Kirk’s hands tensed on the arms of his command chair, and the momentary doubt that he might have miscalculated flashed through his mind; then in the next second, the unknown suddenly veered off and shot away in a wide, looping turn.
“That was close,” said Sulu. “Our shields were a few microns away from clashing.”
Eriksen peered at his screen. “The target is coming about. They’re moving to a parallel course.”
Kirk’s lips thinned. “Enough games. What are we dealing with here, Spock?”
“New sensor data coming in, sir,” said the Vulcan. “That . . . uncomfortably close pass enabled me to capture a great deal of information. Some elements of the unknown ship’s inner structure have striking similarities to that of a vessel we have encountered before. The Explorer Beyond.”
“Kaleo’s ship?” Kirk looked back to the main screen. “How is that possible? The Syhaari craft we saw was barely able to maintain warp speed velocity . . .”
“Looks like they’ve had some upgrades,” said Eriksen.
“In two years?” Sulu shook his head. “It took humans decades to develop a warp three engine.”
Eriksen shrugged. “I guess they’re quick studies.”
A chime sounded from M’Ress’s panel. “Incoming signal, Captain. They’re hailing us . . . finally.”
Kirk drew himself up, straightening his mustard-yellow tunic. “Open a channel, Lieutenant.”
Somehow he knew who it was going to be the moment before the image changed from the starscape outside to the interior of the alien ship. A familiar simian face, round and smooth, with dark, laughing eyes that flashed with spirit. Kaleo of the Syhaari looked back at him, and she made a gruff chugging noise that Kirk recalled as her people’s equivalent of laughter. “Our friends aboard Enterprise,” she began. “Greetings.”
He allowed himself to relax—but only a little. “Captain Kaleo. It’s good to see you again. But tell me, was there something wrong with your communications system?”
Kaleo laughed again. “Forgiveness is hoped for, Captain Kirk. I could not resist the opportunity to display my new command to you. Do you approve?”
“It’s an impressive craft,” Kirk allowed. “And a surprising one.”
“I say those words to myself each day. I christened it The Friendship Discovered, in echo of our first meeting. It is an auspicious name.”
“It seems your people have been busy,” said Spock.
“Commander Spock of Vulcan, it is agreeable to speak with you once more.” Kaleo’s buoyant manner seemed to falter for a moment before she answered the question. “Yes, you are correct. We have made some rapid advances in our knowledge of space travel. I admit, I look forward to showing them to you. With the permission of the Gathering’s Learned Assembly, we decided to come out to meet Enterprise and guide you to Syhaar Prime personally.”
Kirk accepted this with a nod. “We welcome the company, Kaleo. Thank you. I’d only ask that next time, you let us know your intentions first.”
Kaleo’s eyes glittered with amusement. “Ah, Kirk. What joy would there be in that?” If she was human, he imagined she would have winked at him.
The screen switched back to the exterior view as the signal cut, and Kirk glanced at his first officer. “What do you make of that?”
Spock considered the question. “From what we know of the Syhaari culture, the act of physical display is an important one in the assertion of social status. It likely stems from a more primitive impulse connected to expressions of territoriality, dominance, submission, or mating ritual . . .”
“She wanted to impress us.”
The first officer nodded. “Consider that in our first encounter, the Syhaari were very much in the inferior position. They no doubt wished to redress that balance to some degree.”
“They may be worried we don’t see them as equals, sir,” offered M’Ress.
Kirk smiled slightly, thinking back to what Envoy Xuur had said in the briefing room. “You could be right, Lieutenant. The Federation stands on the principle of treating everyone as a peer, but sometimes we forget that others don’t think that way.”
“Nevertheless,” Spock went on, “this particular display was inherently risky. A different captain might have reacted poorly, perhaps even perceived the Friendship’s approach as an attack.”
“Good thing we didn’t blink, then,” Kirk replied.
Arex blew out a breath. “I do hope this sort of thing does not occur on a regular basis.”
“No, Mister Arex,” Kirk told him. “Usually, our days are much more exciting than this.”
Before the Triexian could offer a reply, another chime sounded from M’Ress’s panel. “Data signal from Kaleo’s ship, sir. Detailed course projections and heading data for the approach to the Syhaar home system.”
Kirk nodded. “Pass that across to helm and navigation. Anything else?”
“Yes, Captain. There’s a formal invitation here for you and a party of associates to come aboard The Friendship Discovered for a tour.”
“It seems that Captain Kaleo’s desire to impress us with her new vessel has not been sated,” said Spock.
“And neither has my curiosity,” Kirk countered. “Are you aware of any spacefaring culture that made the leap from breaking the light barrier to a fully functional warp three drive system in so short a time?”
“I admit I am not. Vulcans spent many years developing faster-than-light travel to such a degree. But admittedly, we are of a far more cautious character than the Syhaari appear to be.”
Kirk looked up. “Ensign Zyla, inform Mister Scott I want him to run an analysis of the Friendship’s warp-drive profile. Discreetly, of course. If they’ve made such advances in so short a time, I’m sure Starfleet will want to know how they did it.”
“You think they’ve found a shortcut, sir?” said the Cygnian.
“You never know, Ensign,” said Kirk as he stood up. “Despite what our chief engineer might profess about being the expert on warp engines, these people may have something new to teach us.”
He caught Spock’s eye as he walked toward the turbolift. Something in his first officer’s manner told the captain that the Vulcan was considering a different possibility.
* * *
The familiar sensation of the transporter effect faded with a last, lingering tingle over his flesh, and Spock took his first breath of air aboard the alien ship. In an instant of sense-memory recall and analysis, the Vulcan picked out a riot of odors that were undetectable by his companions. Neither Captain Kirk, Doctor McCoy, nor the envoy from Rhaandar had the olfactory capacity that Spock possessed, and so they could not detect the myriad traces of the Syhaari embedded in the arched, curving walls and the grassy carpet of the floor.
Spock remembered boarding The Explorer Beyond for the first time, his boots crunching on the blackened and dead plants throughout the stricken ship. Here, things were much different. The oxygen-producing grasses were a genetically modified strain of a plant native to Syhaar Prime, ingeniously bred to not only remove carbon dioxide from the ship’s environment but also to provide an ever-present reminder of the crew’s place of origin. Like much of the Syhaari’s approach to technology, it was a merging of many disciplines.
“Remarkable,” said Xuur, a smile splitting her pale face. “Integrated biotechnology.” She glanced around the atrium-like space they had materialized inside. “Where are we?”
“The mid-decks,” offered the captain. “Kaleo’s people lay their vessels out differently from most starfaring species. Instead of layered horizontal decks parallel to the axis of movement, theirs are stacked in a column from stern to bow.”
“Like the floors of a tower? Oh, I see.”
“I surmise it is a holdover from when their early spacecraft used the force of thrust as a means of simulating gravity on board,” Spock added.
“And yet they now possess many of the technologies that we take for granted,” Xuur went on. “Thank you for allowing me to see this firsthand, Captain Kirk.”
Spock wondered about Xuur’s statement. Kirk had allowed precisely nothing. In point of fact, the envoy had appeared almost the moment they had stepped off the bridge and insisted on accompanying them, politely but firmly demanding to know the full details of the “game” that Kaleo had played with the Enterprise and the conversation that followed. She had initially objected to McCoy’s presence, in what Spock considered to be a rather disingenuous manner, citing the lack of a need for a doctor aboard the Syhaari ship and the veiled insult such a presence might suggest. While Spock had his own reservations about what McCoy could add to the landing party, he deferred to the captain’s wishes, and Xuur soon found herself pressed to do the same.
“Here they are,” said the doctor with a nod.
Kaleo and two other Syhaari ambled across the grass toward them. The alien captain was just as Spock remembered her, tall and gangly on first sight, but with a whipcord strength that seemed common to all her species. Her long arms trailed below her knees, and much of her furred body was concealed beneath a formfitting shipsuit with cutoff sleeves and shorts. The outfit was festooned with pockets and clasps to which were attached various items of equipment. Rank and status were designated by a lengthy plait of hair interwoven with metal wire, carved bone icons, and small pieces of jewelry. Spock’s studies were incomplete in this area, but he had learned enough to know that the items entwined in any given Syhaari’s plait designated such things as place of birth, parentage, clan affiliation, primary skill set, and more.
Kaleo gave a low grunt that was immediately rendered into Federation Standard by a universal translator module she wore on her belt. It had been a parting gift after first contact with her people. “Happiness fills me to see you again, James Kirk, Leonard McCoy, Spock.”
“And under much better circumstances,” agreed the captain, accepting a brief embrace from the Friendship’s commander. He gestured to the envoy. “Allow me to present Veygaan Xuur, an emissary of the United Federation of Planets.”
Xuur described an elegant curtsey. “Greetings to you, Captain Kaleo.”
“Welcome aboard my ship,” she replied. “Kirk, you recall my first mate, Zond?” The Syhaari captain waved toward the largest of the group, a big male whose flesh was coal black, but with fur age-streaked by gray. Zond gave a noncommittal snort in reply.
“These are the humans and the Vulcan, but what species is that one?” said the smaller of Kaleo’s companions, a female whose fur had a burnt-orange hue. She pointed at the envoy.
“Manners,” Kaleo admonished, then chuckled. “Hoyga here is one of our engineering specialists. She lacks delicacy.”
“No offense is taken,” Xuur said smoothly. “I am from a planet called Rhaandar, one of many member worlds of the Federation.”
“What is that device you wear?” Hoyga pointed at the silver band ringing Xuur’s head.
“It is merely a decorative object,” said the envoy, flashing a brief, practiced smile. “A token worn by Rhaandarites of my gender while in the company of other beings.”
“Oh.” Hoyga did not seem satisfied with the reply, and Spock thought she was about to say more, but then Zond parted his large hands.
“Shall we proceed?” he asked.
“Of course!” Kaleo bounced gently on the balls of her broad, bare feet. Like all Syhaari, she went without any form of boots or shoes. Spock had surmised that the touch of flesh against the grassy deck was somehow comforting to them, but also part of the manner in which they maintained an intuitive connection to their vessels. He made a mental note to ask Lieutenant Commander Scott if he had an opinion on such behavior.
In the middle of the atrium, a wide, glassy tube grew out of the deck and rose away into the ceiling. Nestled inside it was a floating oval capsule—the Syhaari equivalent of a turbolift, Spock guessed. Zond pointed a wand-like device at the capsule’s door, and it opened with an answering tone, low and organic like the sound of wood knocking on wood. Hoyga entered without ceremony, and the rest of the group followed the sullen alien engineer.
Once inside, Zond manipulated the control wand again, and the elevator car began to descend. “These travel channels run the length of the Friendship,” said the first mate.
Kirk was nodding as the lift moved through a darkened between-deck section and then out into light again. The next area was similar to the atrium, an open-plan compartment with low walls dividing it into what might have been living quarters or recreation areas. “You must have a far larger crew here than you did aboard the Explorer.”
“Many more,” agreed Kaleo. “This is one of our largest classes of starcraft, home to some two hundred of my people.” She pointed with a long arm. “Look there. Our mess hall.”
Envoy Xuur craned her neck to look, studying the large, communal dining space. “Your crew mix freely? Or are there particular social strata aboard the ship?”
Kaleo shook her head. “Feeding is an important practice for all Syhaari, emissary. We regard the daily taking of food and drink as a special event, to be enjoyed and participated in by the group. In the past, before we developed the technology to leave our world, feast gatherings between tribal clusters were vital to our society. It was there that trade took place, ideas were exchanged, and so on. We maintain the traditions, even out here in the void.”
“We saw your . . . botanical space up above,” said McCoy. “Is that where you get your food?”
Zond made an airy gesture with his hands. “The fresh is always the best,” he admitted, “but since the famines, all Syhaari have learned to live with fabricated meals. Our food synthesis machines are among the most advanced technologies our people have created.” He paused. “The threat of starvation was a powerful motivator.”
“Can you speak more of these famines?” asked Xuur. “And also, these tribal clusters you mentioned? It was my understanding that Syhaar Prime is governed by a single body. Is that incorrect?”
“Now we are so,” Kaleo explained. “Before we sought unity to improve our lot, the clusters would compete against one another, sometimes forming temporary alliances. But the famines changed that . . .” She took a solemn breath. “There was a terrible blight that swept our world decades ago. Old divisions were put aside in order for us to survive as a species. We called it the Greater Gathering, and since that time, we have drawn together to forge a united government. A chorus of representatives from every cluster.” The alien captain’s lips pursed. “Not always a fully united one, if I speak with honesty. Overt conflict may be long forgotten, but there are always disagreements . . .” She paused, and Spock had the sense that Kaleo was uncomfortable with her admission. “You must think us very provincial.”
“Not even a little.” Doctor McCoy smiled. “You ought to come sit in on a session at the Federation Council. You’ll see the same thing there, beings from dozens of different worlds, all arguing until they’re blue in the face. Or purple, or green, or whatever, for that matter. A more disunited United Federation you won’t see . . . but it’s all part of the democratic process.”
“It is only a difference of scale,” Spock added. “Your government representatives speak for tribes, ours for worlds.”
Zond made the deep-throated laughing sound. “You say that so casually, Vulcan. Until we met your ship, we did not even know there were other worlds and other beings.”
“You never suspected such a possibility?” asked Kirk.
Kaleo showed something like a smile as the lift passed through the next deck and into the dark again. “Some of us did. And for the most part, we were thought of as romantics. Or fools.”
“No one is making light of it now,” muttered Hoyga, almost to herself.
The next sections of the ship were great industria
l spaces filled with machinery and tall, heavy structures that seemed at first sight to be cast out of steel. Bright, orange-red light flickered through gaps in the towerlike constructs and Spock shifted his perception slightly, allowing him to place what he was seeing into a more familiar context. “This is your engineering compartment,” he said.
“Correct, Mister Spock.” Kaleo pointed out four great conduits emerging from a large central module, explaining how each of them extended out past the walls of the Friendship’s fuselage, through its winglike superstructures to the active warp drive nacelles beyond. The Syhaari craft’s power systems had a thickset, overengineered look to them that made the Vulcan wonder about their energy efficiency. Certainly, aboard the Enterprise he had been able to observe the power flux signature generated by the alien vessel’s systems.
“That’s a warp core down there?” asked McCoy. “Doesn’t look like one of Scotty’s machines.”
“Safety is our primary concern,” Hoyga said firmly. “As a healer, you should see the merit of that.”
“A logical design philosophy,” offered Spock. “Given your previous negative experiences with warp drive systems. Your design favors heavy layers of inert shielding around your matter-antimatter collider. While it increases the mass of this vessel, it will protect the crew from any potential delta radiation leakage.”
Mentioning the lethal energy brought an uneasy silence into the lift car as they continued their descent. McCoy shot Spock a disparaging look, doubtless attempting to admonish him for reminding the Syhaari of the accident aboard The Explorer Beyond.
“It’s impressive,” said Kirk, breaking the change in mood. “Can we get a closer look?”
Hoyga opened her mouth to protest, but Kaleo was already using her control wand to bring the elevator to a halt. “Of course! Follow me.”
The glass hatch rolled open, and the two captains exited together, moving down a suspended walkway over the thrumming heart of the alien starship. Flickering light the color of naked flames spilled out from narrow observation grilles in the radiation armor, but there was little to give any clue to the actual configuration of the Syhaari drive system.
The Latter Fire Page 3