Pawns and Symbols

by Majliss Larson

  Kirk turned to Spock who outlined the Federation's proposal. In essence it specified the types and numbers of personnel permitted, limited weapons to sidearms only, delineated boundaries, specified joint patrols, and laid out mechanisms for joint projects and resolution of disagreements. At the conclusion of his presentation, Spock handed the Klingons copies of the protocols.

  Kang acknowledged receipt. "We will consider this and take it up with you later. Now let's take up the matter of this criminal, Cyrano Jones. We demand reparations for damages and insist that this scoundrel be turned over to us for appropriate punishment."

  The response of the Federation delegation was puzzling. Uhura sighed, McCoy spluttered, and even Spock looked faintly sympathetic. Kirk groaned. "Please believe me, Kang," he said fervently, "it would be almost a pleasure to hand that man over to you but he is a Federtion citizen and at the moment he is uh … already serving a Federation sentence for offenses committed here. I'm afraid he is unavailable at the moment. As for reparations, may I remind you that it was sabotage of the quadrotriticale by a Klingon agent that led to some of our difficulties on this planet. I think we are about even on that score. However," he continued, ignoring Kang's baleful glare, "as a gesture of good will, I believe Dr. McCoy is willing to share a recent discovery of his with you. Bones?"

  With an expression that would have done a Vulcan credit, Dr. McCoy proceeded. "Yes, I understand you have had trouble with tribbles aboard certain of your ships as well as on planets and we thought our defensive measures developed as a result of similar problems might augment your genetic research with glommers." He went on to outline the synthesis and use of neoethylene and its effects on tribble metabolism.

  Mara leaned forward at the conclusion of McCoy's speech and responded. "Thank you, Dr. McCoy. That sounds very promising. We will certainly follow up on that line of research. But tell me, I thought you humans loved tribbles?"

  McCoy grimaced. "Taken individually, Ma'am, we do find them rather pleasant, but as our Captain has remarked, too much of anything, even love, is not necessarily a good thing. We prefer our tribbles in controllable doses."

  At Kang's suggestion the discussion moved on to the question of the Tellun star system with its two inhabited planets: Troyius and Elas. Jean did not know much about this system but she gathered that the Enterprise had once been there. From his comments, she gathered that Kirk's sympathies lay primarily with the Troyians and he seemed to feel it would serve some sort of poetic justice if the Klingons and the Elasians got together. There was considerable discourse back and forth concerning resources, trade agreements, travel restrictions, etc., until Lieutenant Uhura suggested that they break for lunch.

  Captain Kirk invited the Klingon delegation to join them but Kang declined and took his group into the small inner room set aside for them. It was comfortably furnished with a couple of sofas, overstuffed chairs, and a well-stocked buffet of both Klingon and human dishes. Kang and Mara seemed familiar with all of them, probably from their time on the Enterprise, but Jean noticed Klen and Klyndur suspiciously avoided the unfamiliar items. The meal was a desultory affair with little conversation.

  Finally, Kang remarked conversationally, "I think we will all go out for a walk before the afternoon session convenes." It was clear from the look on his face that this was not a suggestion. Jean realized that the Klingons assumed the room was wired and that they intended to find a place where they could talk freely.

  "Shall I stay here or go with you?" she inquired.

  Kang glanced at her briefly. "You'll go to the car," he decided.

  As they left the building, Kang directed the Klingon half of the pair posted there to take her to the glide-car. Then the four Klingons set off for a nearby copse of trees. Lieutenant Johnson, the Federation Security guard, accompanied Jean and her escort to the car. A blast of heat greeted them as the door was opened. "Hey, you can't put her in there!" Johnson protested, "It's like an oven."

  "Commander's orders, human. Don't interfere," the Klingon escort growled, gesturing at Jean with his weapon.

  Jean looked at the two Klingons assigned to the car and then at the patrol. "It must be pretty hot for them too, Lieutenant, out here with no shade. Could you arrange for the car to be moved somewhere cooler?"

  He gave her a strange look. "Well, I'll see what I can do. Come on, you." He beckoned to his Klingon partner and they set off. It was terribly hot inside and Jean persuaded the guards to leave the door open. They both lounged beside the car in what shade there was.

  It was not Johnson but Tamura who returned shortly with the news that they could move their car to the shade of a solitary tree somewhat closer to the conference hall. She smiled disarmingly at the driver. "Do you mind if I ride over with you? I've never been insisde one of those things."

  The driver, a weatherbeaten veteran of numerous battles and now a member of the outpost contingent, glowered at her. "Not on my life. I can't drive and keep a bead on you, too. You just walk on ahead and show us where to go."

  "Aw, tormin, she's just a slip of a thing and not armed either. What harm can she do?" the other guard protested. "Here, human, jump in back with her. I can cover them both," he assured his comrade. "But no talking to each other," he added severely.

  Keiko smiled demurely as she climbed in beside Jean and Jean allowed herself a brief flash of a smile in return. She knew that given a half-second head start, Keiko could disarm and disable them both if she chose. That, plus her deceptively petite appearance, made her extremely valuable in security work such as this. The Klingon watched them carefully as the car moved to the indicated tree. He eyed the container slung over Tamura's shoulder. "What's that gadget?"

  "Oh, I thought you might like something cold to drink. It really is hot out here, isn't it?" she answered.

  "Hotter than a mad Vulcan," the man acknowledged wiping his forehead. "Whups. Hold it right there, human." He steaded his weapon on Tamura as she made a move to unsling her canteen. "No funny moves. Wait 'til you're out of the car."

  Tamura shrugged and waited. Once parked in the shade, the guards let both women out of the car and Tamura repeated her offer of cold lemonade. The driver would have no part of it, but the other guard, after observing no untoward effects on Czermy or Tamura, consented to try some and grudgingly pronounced it good. "I thought you'd like it," Tamura said, "because our two Klingon guests have developed quite a taste for it." She chatted on amiably for some minutes with the two guards about Aernath and his companion aboard the Enterprise, casually referring to their freedom of movement and interactions with the crew. Thus, obliquely, she let Jean know how things were with Aernath, and Jean absorbed the information avidly. Finally, Tamura glanced back at the conference building. "I guesss I better be getting back. See you later."

  "Friendly little thing, isn't she?" the guard remarked as she made her way across the lawn.

  "Don't let that fool you, Kinsman," the driver responded as he took Jean by the elbow. He touched her lips lightly with a knuckle. "They still have sharp teeth."

  "But that doesn't mean we're going to use them," Jean protested mildly as he bundled her back into the car. That, she thought, had been the whole point of Tamura's little exercise.

  She was roused from a brief nap by the return of the Klingon delegation. She accompanied them to the conference room and once more took up her position standing just behind Kang and Mara. Aernath was back also, and she noticed with some relief that he had now removed his dark glasses. She caught his eye from time to time but mostly concentrated on the exchanges in front of her. They resumed their discussions of the Tellun system. Kang and his party seemed a trifle more relaxed now. Proposals and counterproposals, arguments, and rebuttals flew across the room.

  Finally, Mr. Spock observed, "Captain Kirk, we seem to be at an impasse on several items here. May I suggest each delegation consider these proposals overnight and we take this topic up again tomorrow?"

  "Excellent suggestion, Mr. Spock. Commander,
do you agree?"

  "It's reasonable, Captain. Perhaps we could now take up a preliminary discussion of your Sherman's planet proposal before we adjourn," Kang replied.

  The two delegations quickly agreed in principal to the concept of two scientific settlements and to certain types of personnel. Then the discussion turned to security and weapons. Both sides wanted elaborate verification of the other's arrangements and the Klingons were protesting the proposed restrictions on heavy armaments.

  Jean shifted her position slightly and wondered idly if she could fake a convincing enough faint to persuade Kang to let her sit down. Surely he'd made his point by now and it really was ridiculous when Aernath was sitting there and another chair was available. Klyndur had just finished a particularly impassioned argument on some obscure point. Her mind wandered inward, downward … yes, the link was still there now that they were in proximity again …

  Kirk responded impatiently, "I realize all that, Lieutenant, but under your proposed status you do have considerable latitude."

  … lieutenant … status … latitude …

  Jean blinked, suddenly very dizzy. "Oh!" she exclaimed. Two things happened simultaneously. The silent node suddenly synapsed into life, and the link surged—first as if to break off—then quickly expanding to block and control. She remembered! It all came back: the mission, the briefing, the training, the code words. Dimly she saw the startled faces of Kang and Mara turn toward her. Across the room, Kirk looked at her with sudden puzzlement while Spock sat immobile with a look of intense concentration on his face. Kang rose from his chair, his face dark with alarm and suspicion. Jean struggled to communicate while that relentless mind bore down on hers. "Spock, let go of me! Get out of my mind, you … sir." Belatedly she realized one did not address a superior officer that way even in this kind of privacy.

  The pressure shifted and she realized that part of it was not Spock but the physical stranglehold Kang had on her. She also realized he was holding her own dagger aimed at her belly, Suddenly she knew it had not been an oversight. He had known she had it; in fact, had calculated on human sympathy operating toward her to allow him a ready weapon at hand should he need it. She had let him neatly maneuver her into a trap again.

  Everyone was on their feet now except Spock and Uhura. Kirk bent over Spock, and Jean heard the whisper in her head. "Unfortunately, Captain, you inadvertently used the trigger mnemonic. She has recovered her memory entirely. I'm holding a mind-block on her now until she recovers her equilibrium but coming at this moment it has created a difficult situation."

  Damn Vulcan understatement! Jean thought furiously as the dagger bit deeply into her skin. Her anger was as much at herself as at the mental control Spock had imposed on her. If she could just have controlled her surprise …

  "More treachery, Kirk?" Kang hissed above her head. "What sort of tricks are you and that Vulcan up to? What are you trying to do with this woman?" Jean wondered how much she had said out loud. She sagged against Kang seeking relief from the double pressure on her throat and belly.

  Spock! she pleaded internally, We've got to tell him the truth. Everything. It's our only chance. Please, ask the Captain to let me tell him.

  Kirk held up his hands. "I assure you, Kang, this was not planned and it's no trick. It was an accident. Please, everyone sit down. Just give me a minute and I'll explain everything." Kang and his two lieutenants remained standing. Everyone else sat down. Once again Jean heard Spock's whispered explanation to Kirk and Kirk's response. "What do you recommend, Spock?"

  "I'm not sanguine about her chances, Captain, but I do agree it has the best chance of success of the options available to us."

  Jean saw Kirk look speculatively at her and at Kang for a moment. "All right, Spock. Kang, if you will release Czerny we will let her speak for herself. I think she can explain it as well as anyone."

  The link closed down again to a glimmer. For a long moment it seemed as if Kang would not release her; then slowly that double pressure also yielded. She turned to face him. Shit! she thought as she looked up at his face. Not a shred of anything but suspicion and mistrust. Months of patient work—reasoning, yielding, arguing—wiped out in a few minutes. Was there any way any of it could be recovered? She took a deep breath.

  "Ever since the injury in my lab here there's been a blank spot in my memory. Things I knew I ought to remember but couldn't. For some reason, just now, it all came back to me. You're not going to like what you hear and you probably won't want to believe me but I swear it's the truth. Just a little over a year ago, I volunteered for a mission into Klingon territory; Starfleet Intelligence had learned of the blight. Obviously this was a situation to be exploited." Kang's face grew darker still but she persisted. "Then they learned that a raid on Sherman's planet was also likely in the offing. Except we thought it would be Koloth, not you. Clearly, with this information a number of options were open to Starfleet."

  "Obviously," Kang said acridly.

  "They chose the plan I volunteered for. When the raid came, I was supposed to 'defect' and work on fighting the blight—no, really work on it," she averred to Kang's disbelieving look, "on Peneli. I was supposed to link up with Mara's movement there and look for an opportunity to influence Maelen and possibly you, through Maelen and Mara, to consider negotiation and cooperation with the Federation."

  "Just waiting for the weak spot," Kang snarled bitterly, "the soft underbelly, then—"

  "Kang! Listen to me!" Her eyes pleaded along with her voice. "What you feared was true. Starfleet did know about the blight but what they chose to do with that knowledge was to send help." She grimaced ruefully. "The only problem was, when I woke up on your ship I didn't remember I was supposed to cooperate." Her voice softened. "All we wanted in return was your willingness to do just what you've been doing here today. Nothing more."

  Kang stood stolidly saying nothing, radiating hostility and suspicion like a cornered animal.

  Finally Jean broke eye contact with him for a moment and glanced at the dagger which now lay on the table just under his fingertips. She hesitated a moment, then sighed as she slowly picked up the dagger. "I guess, after all, it is what you would call another one of 'Kirk's devious plots'. You can do what you like with me … but, dammit Kang …" she lifted her chin as she held out her palm to him, the dagger balanced on it point towards her "… Match me!"

  For an interminable moment he looked at her, his face an unreadable enigma. Then very slowly, he reached out and rotated the blade ninety degrees on her palm. "Take this and go sit down. The stakes are high but I'm still in the game." With a decisive movement he turned and sat down. "Well, Captain Kirk, now that we've cleared up that little mystery, if you're willing to guarantee that your first officer won't indulge in any more of those surprise maneuvers, I think we can proceed."

  It was hard to say which side of the room was most astonished at his response. Kang seemed to enjoy their discomfiture equally. He really was a gambler, Jean decided as she sat down weak-kneed with relief. The higher the stakes and the greater the challenge the more he enjoyed the game as long as the risk and stakes were matched on the other side.

  That evening when Kang beamed aboard his ship, he took Jean and Mara directly to his quarters. "Wait in your room," he ordered Mara. "I'll talk to you later." Then he turned to Jean who was standing quietly in the middle of his room. "Well," he demanded grimly, "do you take me as a man of my word?"

  To that, Jean decided, there was no safe reply so she said nothing.

  "I asked you a question."

  "To which there is no satisfactory reply," she answered.

  "Let me be the judge of that." He seized her hair and wrenched her head back painfully. "Answer me. Do you take me to be a man of my word?"

  "Ouch … Dammit … Yes! … when it suits your sense of honor!"

  He released her and struck her with a glancing backhand blow that sent her flying onto the bed. She lay where she fell. Kang began to pace agitatedly to and fro acr
oss the room muttering to himself. Then he paused and looked at the crumpled figure on the bed, head down, loose ebony hair falling over her face. "Don't cower. It's unbecoming," he told her curtly.

  "I'm not cowering, you damn fool. I'm trying to keep from fighting back," Jean answered, her voice thick with anger. With the restoration of her memory had come full awareness of those skills and reflexes which had puzzled her so on Peneli. She had not sought that particular set of tools but Kirk had refused to let her go into the Empire without them, and Keiko had been painstakingly thorough in her instruction. Now she struggled for control.

  Planting a knee on the bed, he seized her with a despairing laugh and shook her limp, unresisting form. "Fight? No, that would be too simple and straightforward, wouldn't it? You wouldn't make it so easy for me. I'll answer my own question. Yes, I'll keep my word. But you are right. There is a question for which there is no satisfactory answer. How do I keep my word? Kill you or set you free? You have cloaked my defeat in victory. Oh, I will take that mantle. I must. But it will become the rack on which I will be drawn and skewered at your pleasure. From the seeds of my success will grow the destruction of the Empire. Against this it cannot stand." He let go of her and knelt above her staring morosely into space.

  Jean looked at him completely baffled. Gingerly she ventured, "Kang, I don't understand …"

  His face was contorted from his agony. "Empty. The one thing Kirk took from me that I most want not in is power to return."

  Touched by his obvious torment, Jean reached out a tentative hand to brush his cheek. "The Federation doesn't hold hostages. Captain Kirk can and will give your son back to you—very soon I expect."

  The bitter fierceness of the look he turned on her made her flinch. "Like he returned Mara?" he demanded.

  Suddenly Jean understood. She smiled as she placed her hands on his hips and gave a gentle shove. "Kang, you are a damn fool. Of course Captain Kirk couldn't return Mara to you. He never had her to return." Then she probed shrewdly. "You haven't asked Mara to tender Vow since she came back aboard have you?"