The Latter Fire

by James Swallow

  “She showed courage in the face of events that were clearly outside of her experience,” continued Kirk. “For a first first contact, I’d say she did very well. Working together, our crews were able to bring the Explorer’s systems back on line and solve their surge problem.”

  Xuur studied the image on the screen. “The Syhaari went on their way, and several months later Starfleet received a subspace message from Captain Kaleo’s people, extending an offer to the Federation to formally visit their planet and open diplomatic ties.” She looked up. “Despite the unpleasant circumstances of the initial meeting, this represents the very thing the United Federation of Planets was created for. The prospect of alliance with a new life and new civilizations. We are about to take part in a momentous event.”

  “I am certain I speak for the entire crew,” said Spock, “when I say that the gravity of the situation is not lost on us.”

  “Indeed, Mister Spock?” Xuur glanced at the Vulcan. McCoy didn’t like how she seemed to make every statement some kind of challenge. “We are all citizens of the Federation, and for us a meeting with an alien sentient—even of a form we might have never before encountered—is not unusual. One might even say it is commonplace. But for the Syhaari, the meeting that lies ahead of us will radically alter the structure of their society forever. This will be something for the history books.”

  That point, McCoy had to give her. From what they had learned of Kaleo’s people, while they were innovative and curious about the galaxy at large, the Syhaari had been largely isolated for much of their existence and knew little of what was going on beyond their local stellar neighborhood. There’s a lot we’ve got to tell them, he thought. And not all of it good.

  As if he intuited the doctor’s thoughts, the Andorian spoke again. “Klingon probes have been detected at the far edges of this sector. There is no doubt that should the Empire become aware of the existence of the Syhaari Gathering, they too will send a vessel to investigate.”

  “And so once more, I underline the need for promptness in this endeavor,” said the envoy. “These beings are taking their first steps onto the galactic stage. Each of our races has experienced that and emerged the better for it. We owe the Syhaari the opportunity to do the same.”

  “Starfleet agrees,” said Kirk. “I’m glad we’re all on the same page.”

  McCoy shifted in his chair, sensing that the meeting was coming to an end; but he was wrong.

  Ch’Sellor fixed the captain with a steady glare. “I do not believe we are, Captain Kirk. You spoke before of Starfleet’s General Order One, the Prime Directive. The legal framework that prevents the Federation from interfering with the development of a less mature culture. And yet this ship’s records show that the application of that mandate has often been severely tested during your command.”

  The doctor watched the expression harden on the face of his captain and friend. “It’s not easy to deal in absolutes when you’re on the edge of the unknown.”

  Xuur blinked once, and she began to recite data like a library terminal. “Stardate 3156.2, the incident with the self-aware artificial intelligence known as Landru on planet Beta III. Stardate 3497.2, the Capellan mission. Stardate 3715.3, the encounter with the so-called Feeders of Vaal on Gamma Trianguli VI. Stardate—”

  “That’s a very accurate recollection,” Kirk broke in. “And I stand by every choice I made in those situations, and all the rest.”

  “There are many within the FDC who felt that Captain Matsumoto and the Arcadia would have been the better choice for this delegation,” said ch’Sellor.

  It was Uhura who said what McCoy was thinking. “Kaleo asked for Captain Kirk and the Enterprise because her people respect us. Because they trust the choices he made.”

  Xuur gave an indulgent smile. “It appears your crew hold you in the same esteem as the Syhaari, Captain.”

  Kirk met her gaze. “I’ve always believed that whatever opinion anyone has of me, or my ship . . . is one that has been earned, Envoy.”

  “Just so,” she allowed. “Nevertheless, my colleague raises a valid point. While the Gathering may not be a pre-warp culture, their level of technological and societal development is without doubt less advanced than ours.”

  McCoy couldn’t stay silent any longer and gave a grunt of disapproval. “With all due respect, madam, that’s a matter of perspective. You don’t just measure a culture’s worth on the scale of how many gadgets they can make!”

  “True enough, Doctor McCoy,” said Xuur. “But you can measure how well they might fare against a galactic power with less-than-altruistic intentions. And that imbalance could lead to some ill-considered choices.” She looked back at Kirk. “Captain, a moment ago you spoke about the difficulty in dealing with absolutes in relation to General Order One. I am making the same assertion. The application of the Prime Directive does not simply switch off once a civilization has discovered warp drive. I’m sure, given your experience, that you understand things are more complex than that.”

  “I do.”

  Xuur smiled again and stood up, signaling that she was done. “Then we are, as you said, all on the same page.”

  * * *

  There had only been a brief moment in the Arcadia’s transporter room when Arex and Chekov had crossed paths, but nevertheless it had delighted the Triexian to see his former student again and speak with him. Inwardly, Arex was a little saddened by the fact that Pavel—whom he considered to be an above-average navigator for a human—had chosen to switch disciplines to a different operations specialty, but he respected his young friend’s choice and wished him the best. Waiting in his data queue was a brief welcome letter from the Russian that he would enjoy at his leisure, but no sooner had the lieutenant deposited his meager luggage in his new quarters than he was drawn away by the need to see the bridge of the Enterprise. He had never served on a ship of heavy cruiser tonnage before, having previously been assigned to scouts and destroyers, and Arex was eager to get started.

  After a moment of indecision, he elected to ride the turbolift to the bridge and report for duty, even though technically he had already done that.

  The doors hissed open and he stepped out, taking it all in. Even while the ship was in a relatively neutral mode, the bridge was active. Sentients were at each station, busy with their tasks, and ahead on the main viewer, the elongated streaks of distorted starlight surrounded the Enterprise as she powered through space on course for the Syhaari system.

  Arex almost lost himself in the display before someone coughed gently, and his attention was drawn back to the dark-haired human male sitting in the command chair. “Can I help you, Lieutenant?”

  “Navigator Arex reporting,” he replied. “Would I be correct in assuming you are Lieutenant Hikaru Sulu?”

  Sulu grinned. “Arex! I’m glad to meet you. Pavel speaks very highly of you. When do you start?”

  “Tomorrow,” Arex admitted.

  “Captain Kirk is still below, meeting with the envoy,” Sulu went on. “Is there something I can help you with?”

  At the navigation console, another human officer looked up and gave him an easy smile. “I’m betting the new guy is here to check out his office, am I right?” The lieutenant patted the astrogator panel in front of him.

  “Mister Arex, this is Lieutenant Eriksen,” said Sulu, by way of introduction. “And currently keeping my seat warm over there is Lieutenant Leslie.”

  “Lieutenant,” offered Leslie, keeping his attention on his readouts.

  Sulu pointed out the rest of the bridge crew—a human female named Haines at the science console, a Caitian called M’Ress at communications, and Zyla, a Cygnian in engineering crimson.

  Arex bobbed his head in greetings to them. “Mister Eriksen is correct. I am eager to begin my assignment.”

  “I could generously allow him to work the rest of my shift,” said Eriksen with a
smile. “Consider it a welcome-aboard gift.”

  Arex was actually enthused by that idea, but the look on Sulu’s face shut him down. “Commander Spock wouldn’t approve, Ron. You know that.”

  Eriksen and Leslie shared a chuckle. “Can’t say I didn’t try. Okay, how about this? Arex came all the way up here, least I can do is let him try out the chair.” The human slipped out of his seat, and Arex had to stop himself from leaping into it.

  “Go ahead,” said Sulu. “We’ll call it a familiarization exercise.”

  Arex’s three hands dropped into place on the panel, and he instantly felt a thrill. He had once heard a harpist from his homeworld talk about the anticipation she felt in the moment before beginning to play, and now Arex felt something similar. But his instrument was a powerful starship, his strings the course plots and navigation controls.

  “Baseline settings are probably a little different from what you’re used to,” said Eriksen good-­naturedly. “But the layout is the same.”

  Arex nodded. “I’ve operated a simulator . . . it does not compare to the real thing, however.”

  “No argument there,” said Leslie. “Once you get a hand—in your case, a few hands—on a Constitution-class starship, everything else feels like a tug.”

  “How fast have you taken her?” Arex asked, wondering at the power humming silently beneath his fingertips.

  Sulu and Eriksen exchanged looks. “That’s a story in itself. I’ll tell it to you when we’re off-duty.”

  Arex nodded absently, as his attention was absorbed by the course monitor. “These figures . . .” He hesitated. It would be rude to amend another officer’s settings, but the instructor in him couldn’t stay silent. “I wonder if I might offer a suggestion?”

  Leslie chuckled. “He’s barely on board, and already he’s questioning your navs, Ron.”

  “I don’t meant to be impolite . . .”

  Eriksen eyed him. “But?”

  Arex took that as tacit approval and tapped in a quick correction on the deviation plotter. “This adjustment would shave a few minutes off our ETA. You see? The binary star system you bypassed here doesn’t require so large a margin of avoidance.”

  Eriksen peered at the panel. “Yeah, new guy is right,” he said, after a moment. “Guess I factored in the higher ratio.”

  “I would not have marked you down for it, Lieutenant.”

  Sulu laughed. “Once an instructor, always an instructor.”

  “Hey,” Eriksen countered, “navigation is as much art as it is science, right? Cut me some slack, Sulu.” He looked away. “So, Arex, what do you know about this sector, apart from gravity gradients?”

  “I took the opportunity to study this zone on the way to the rendezvous,” he explained, hoping once more to show his worth to his new crewmates. “The Syhaari Gathering is on the spinward edge of an area of largely unexplored space, sector designation 544-K. The zone is rife with nebulae remnants, gas clouds, and proto-stellar nurseries. Highly active, in a spatial sense, but considered unlikely to contain developed life-forms.”

  “Which is why the Syhaari were such a surprise,” offered M’Ress, purring the words. “No one thought there would be sentients out here.”

  “Life always finds a way,” said Sulu.

  “The Syhaar home system is englobed within a particularly dense Oort cloud,” Arex went on. “That may also have much to do with why they were able to evolve into a warp-age culture without attracting the attention of any of our survey probes.”

  “Ever taken a ship through something like that?” said Leslie.

  Arex shook his head. “That would be challenging.”

  At his side, Eriksen grinned again. “This is the Starship Enterprise, Lieutenant. Challenging is what we do.”

  Then, without warning, the prism-shaped alert light in the center of the console began to blink red. The relaxed, friendly manner of the Enterprise’s bridge crew immediately melted away and each of them turned wary. Arex sensed Eriksen’s hand on his shoulder, and he swiftly scrambled out of the navigator’s station and let the other lieutenant return to his post. Stepping back, his hands came together and clasped one another. Arex felt suddenly out of place, in the way, as the easy atmosphere of the bridge was replaced with a ready tension.

  “Report,” Sulu ordered.

  “Unknown sensor contact, intermittent but gaining definition,” replied Leslie. “Port quadrant, twenty degrees below the line.”

  “Confirmed,” called Ensign Haines. “I’m reading it too. It’s a ship. Unidentified configuration.”

  “It’s approaching us on an intercept course,” added Eriksen. “Velocity is warp factor three point one, holding constant.”

  There was a moment of silence as Sulu assimilated what the other officers were telling him. “M’Ress, any communications from it?”

  The Caitian shook her head. “Negative, Lieutenant.”

  “There shouldn’t be anything out here but us,” Leslie insisted. “Syhaari ships don’t have the range to make this distance from their homeworld. And every other system for light-years around is uninhabited.” He took a breath. “If it’s a hostile vessel—”

  “We don’t know that yet.” Sulu stamped down on the lieutenant’s speculation before it could take hold. “Let’s not borrow any trouble before we actually have it. Mister Eriksen, how long until we’re in visual range of the unknown?”

  “At current rate of closure, two minutes.”

  Arex drifted to the rail that ringed the lower level of the bridge, close to the science station. He saw the same data that Haines was now reading, the sensor feeds trying to form a cogent view of the alien vessel.

  “Power output for the target is high,” said the ensign. “Lieutenant Sulu, I’m having difficulty getting through the energy bleed. Their deflectors are up, but I can’t tell if they’re running with weapons hot.”

  “If they mean to attack . . .” The words slipped out of Arex’s mouth before he realized it.

  Sulu gave a grave nod. “We can’t take the risk. Leslie, raise shields and go to yellow alert. M’Ress, inform Captain Kirk we may have a situation here.”

  Eriksen glanced back at the Triexian and smiled without humor. “Told ya.”

  Two

  Kirk listened carefully to Lieutenant Sulu’s report without speaking, assimilating the data and running though possible scenarios as the helmsman brought him up to speed.

  “Curious,” noted Spock as Ensign Haines handed off the science station to the first officer. “The initial scans of the unknown craft indicate a vessel exhibiting a much higher power curve than its mass and speed would suggest.”

  “It’s running hot,” said Arex.

  The captain noted the new navigator’s presence on the bridge, but didn’t comment on it. Instead he took his place in the command chair as Sulu relieved Leslie at the helm. “It’s not Starfleet. It doesn’t match any known civilian designs. What about . . .” Kirk stopped himself before he said the word Klingons. “What about aggressor ships?”

  “Analysis inconclusive, Captain.”

  “Theorize, Spock.”

  The Vulcan paused, marshalling his thoughts. “It is possible that this craft belongs to a race we are familiar with, but if so it would be a radical departure from known design philosophies.”

  “I have a visual,” said Eriksen.

  Kirk leaned forward. “Let’s see it, mister.”

  The main viewer displayed a heat-distorted blob that lacked definition, suggesting something that was curved like a manta ray, with an X-shaped silhouette the imager couldn’t quite keep hold of.

  “Possibly a quadrilateral warp envelope,” Spock noted. “That might explain the power profile.”

  “Unknown is entering weapons range,” reported Sulu.

  “Still no contact, Captain,” added M’Ress
. “Shall I attempt to hail them?”

  “Do it,” Kirk ordered, but his gut told him they would get no reply. A moment later the Caitian confirmed it.

  “They’re slick . . .” At the engineering panel, Ensign Zyla let out a low whistle of approval. “For a warp three ship, I mean . . .”

  “Feed your data down to Mister Scott,” said Kirk. “I want his input on this. Sulu, alter our heading, put some room between us and our new friend.”

  “Aye, Captain.” Sulu worked his panel, and Kirk heard the corresponding shift in the pitch of the Enterprise’s engines as the vessel veered away. Within a few seconds, the alien craft had altered course and returned to its intercept heading. “They don’t seem to be interested in that, sir.”

  M’Ress cleared her throat. “Sir, I have Envoy Xuur on the intraship. She is asking for an explanation about the change in alert status.”

  “She’ll have to wait,” said Kirk, his eyes locked on the indistinct alien vessel.

  “I think they want to see who is going to blink first,” said Eriksen, in a low voice. “They’re playing Chicken.”

  Spock raised an eyebrow. “I fail to see the connection between this encounter and a species of Earth poultry.”

  “It’s a dare,” Kirk explained. “That, or a suicide run.”

  “So”—Sulu shot the captain a look—“do we blink, sir?”

  Kirk shook his head. “Let’s play this out. But fortify our forward shields, just in case.”

  “Intercept point in ten seconds,” said Eriksen. “Nine. Eight. Seven.”

  Spock turned back to his viewer and trained the full capacity of the starship’s sensors on the alien vessel as it came at them, and no one spoke as the navigator counted down the last few instants.