Valdyr threw the cloak over his shoulders and fastened the tracers.
"Pull your hood up," she commanded him. "We must hurry."
James T. Kirk picked his way cautiously down a narrow animal trail,
squinting in the darkness. From the look of Qo'nos's ring, it was nearly
midnight. His night vision was
excellent, almost as good as Spock's. (Unfortunately, the same could not
be said for his regular eyesight--and he'd now gone through so many
pairs of spectacles for reading that Bones McCoy claimed to have
exhausted the supply in all the antique shops in San Francisco.) The
rescue party had had to detour around several large, private estates,
which had nearly doubled their hike through the dark forest. Now,
finally, the trees were thinning ahead of them. "How far are we from
Kmarag's compound?" Jim whispered ahead to Spock. "My sense of
direction has been off ever since we made that last detour."
"We are almost--" The Vulcan broke off, and halted.
"Correction. We are here." Kirk pushed his way through the last screen
of undergrowth, McCoy following him. Together, the little party looked
down from a high ridge, seeing the huge, fortresslike house down in the
hollow, surrounded by both high stone walls and modern security fields.
"There seems to be a lot of activity going on," Kirk said, noting the
brilliant security lights and the presence of many armed figures racing
to and fro.
Spock regarded his tricorder intently. "Peter is no longer within the
compound," Spock said.
"Not there? Then where is he? Did they take him off-world?" Kirk
demanded, startled. Had Kamarag decided not to meet at the rendezvous?
Had the Klingon ambassador somehow discovered that Kirk had no intention
of obeying his instructions, and had returned to execute his nephew in
revenge?
"Peter has vanished," Spock said. "He is not in the compound at the
present moment. However," the Vulcan added, fiddling with his tricorder,
taking readings, "that does not necessarily mean that he is now
off-world. The rock formations in this area contain traces of selonite
... the same material that forms the basis for the cloaking device. It
makes readings impossible. If some of that scionitc-impregnated rock is
between us and Peter, that would make it impossible to scan him." Kirk
groaned aloud. "Just what we need!"
"I believe I should continue scanning," Spock said. "I may be able to
pick him up again ... if he is in the area." Leonard McCoy plopped
himself down on the ground with a groan. "Haven't hiked this much since
Y ellowstone," he grumbled, digging into his belt pouch and taking out a
small flask and container of ration pellets.
The three officers silently shared the skimpy provisions as Spock
continued to study the screen of his tricorder. "Fascinating," the
Vulcan murmured, after a few minutes. "I am picking up something ...
confusing. For a moment I thought I had detected Peter, but now the
human readings are blending and merging ... becoming intermixed with
Klingon readings."
"Where? What location?" Kirk demanded, jumping up.
"Due north," Spock said, pointing. "On the other side of the compound."
"Is it possible that it might be Peter, somehow masking his readings?"
McCoy asked, peering at the tricorder's tiny screen.
"I believe it may be," Spock muttered.
"Well, it's the best lead we've got," Kirk said.
"Captain ... these readings are moving toward the spaceport," Spock
said. "Slowly ... at a walking pace." Spock glanced up at his friend.
"I believe, Jim, that your nephew has not waited for rescue. He has,
instead, effected his own escape." Kirk felt a slow grin spread across
his features. "Well, that was damned inconsiderate of him, wasn't it?"
"Now what?" McCoy wondered aloud.
"Guess our next stop will be the spaceport, too," Kirk said, glancing at
his wrist chrono. "See that ground vehicle that just pulled up there,
outside the security gate?" He pointed down into the hollow.
"Yes, Captain," Spock replied.
"Think you could hot-wire that thing?"
"I believe I can, Captain," Spock said.
"Good. Let's make our way down there ... slowly. Keep
low. Take no chances. We've got plenty of time; we're going to hijack
that car in just about ... forty-five minutes." The three officers
cautiously made their way down the little ridge, crawling commando-style
where they was no ground cover. Finally, they huddled crouched in a
thicket about thirty meters from the guard station. The driver and the
guard were standing outside, talking desultorily. The fugitive trio
waited in silence, until, finally, Kirk glanced at his chrono again.
"Ready, Spock?"
"Ready, Captain." Kirk counted seconds in his head, and then, right on
schedule, came the moment he'd been waiting for. A dull boom erupted
from the forest they'd left behind, and a gout of distant yellow and red
flame brightened the night. Half a second later, the ground beneath
their feet shuddered.
"That's it!" Kirk said, grabbing McCoy and propelling him out of their
hiding place. "Go!" Spock was already racing forward. The guard was
still outside his security station, his gaze fixed on the fire in the
foothills. He never saw the Vulcan's dark figure, never realized that
anyone was there--until a hand clamped onto the juncture of neck and
shoulder, and he sagged, limp.
The driver turned toward his fallen comrade, then launched himself at
Spock's dimly seen shape with a loud war cry. Kirk darted up behind him,
chopped him hard on the neck, then kicked his feet out from under him.
When the Klingon, dazed but still game, tried to get up, the captain
stunned him with his phaser.
The captain caught his breath, then turned toward the car.
"Want me to drive?" he asked, heading for the open door.
"With all due respect ... no, "Spock said, firmly, heading him off. "I
have analyzed the controls with my tricorder, and I would prefer to
drive. Your efforts at chauffeuring during our sojourn on Iotia are
still vivid in my memory." Kirk chuckled as the three would-be rescuers
piled into the ground vehicle. It was a matter of moments to activate
the engine and turn the car. Kirk crouched beside Spock and felt
adrenaline course through his body. He glanced back at McCoy, who was
gripping the edge of the backseat with both hands, holding on as Spock
sent their stolen transportation barreling down the road.
"Jim, how the hell did you know that would happen?" the doctor demanded,
pointing in the direction of the explosion.
"That was the Kepler, "Kirk said. "You told me to give us plenty of time
to get away ... and it came in handy as a diversion." With a sharp cry,
the doctor grabbed the seat again and held on for dear life as the car
slewed around a sharp curve.
"Dammit, Spock, watch it! You're a Starfleet officer, not a chauffeur!"
"Spock, how long till we reach the spaceport?"
"ETA is ... fifteen point seven minutes, Captain," Spock said, intent
on driving. He sent the vehicle skidding in
to another tight turn,
frowning slightly in the lights of the controls. "This road,
unfortunately, winds about rather than going directly through the woods.
I apologize for the ... instability ... of the ride." Kirk grinned,
feeling the car surge forward. "Just as long as it gets us there before
Peter gets off-world, Spock. That way we'll only have to steal one
ship."
"I shall endeavor to avoid that eventuality," Spock promised gravely,
and increased speed until the groundcar seemed ready to take flight.
Peter and Valdyr had alternately walked and jogged for over an hour
before they reached the edge of the forest, which ran almost up against
the spaceport. The two paused for a moment, staring down at Tengchah
Jav's perimeter security gate--the first of several hurdles they had to
surmount in their quest to get off Qo'nos.
Valdyr glanced over her shoulder, then fished in her pocket, as they
approached the gate. "This gate is programmed to admit any valid
identification," she told him.
He gazed at the security device that would scan the number of people
approaching and only admit those with the proper ID. "That's great,"
Peter remarked, watching her take out a small ID disk. "I don't have
one."
"Yes, you do," she said. "I took Darj's." Handing him a disk, she fed
hers into the scanner. "Before I killed him, I'd wondered how I would
get you past this point."
Peter followed suit, and the gate swung open. Quickly, the two headed
for the nonmilitary side of the port. If they were in luck, they would
find a small, private vessel that was unsupervised while its crew was on
shore leave. "Maybe we can find a trader or a smuggler's ship," Peter
told Valdyr,
"with a Federation registry. Federation vessels have stan-darized
controls. I know I can pilot one of those. What other checkpoints do we
have to cross?" he asked in a low voice, as they hurried along, watching
keenly for any sign of Karg or his troops.
"There is an inside gate that leads to the civilian landing fields, but
it is not always guarded," she whispered. "If there is a guard ..." She
patted her crossbow.
Peter swallowed hard. "Valdyr, there's got to be another way. If there's
a guard ... distract him somehow--act helpless, or something."
She spun, glaring at him.
"Just for a second.t" he argued. "While he's helping you, I'll come up
behind him and knock him cold."
"Are you sure you can?" she asked pointedly. "You'll only get one
chance. Perhaps you should act helpless!"
"Let's not argue technique, okay?"
She nodded, if reluctantly. "Once we're inside that gate, we'll have to
choose a ship. Of course, they are all locked ... "
"I should be able to break the codes," Peter assured her.
"I learned the basics for breaking computer codes back when I was in my
teens, and most freighters--especially the older models--don't have the
most up-to-date security systems."
"That would bern" Valdyr began; then she glanced back over her shoulder
again, only to halt in her tracks. "Lights! A ground vehicle!" she
whispered, shoving the human toward a stack of vacuum-proof packing
crates. "Hide!"
Peter leaped for cover and Valdyr joined him. They crouched, rigidly
still, scarcely daring to breathe. After a
moment, he peered around the nearest container, making sure he was in
shadow. He watched the vehicle as it skidded to a stop. "Someone's in a
big hurry," he whispered, with a sinking feeling in his midsection.
"It is one of Kamarag's vehicles," Valdyr said, with despair in her
voice. "They have tracked us, somehow."
Without discussing it, the two fugitives both took out their disrupters
and prepared for battle. They watched anxiously as the vehicle's doors
opened, and three black-clad shapes emerged. Two were tall and lean, the
other shorter and stocky. They moved furtively, and one kept glancing at
some device in his hand--probably a scanner or tricorder. Peter groaned
inwardly. Valdyr took his hand, gripping it so hard she made the bones
grind.
Then his eyes narrowed as he stared at the three shapes.
The stockier man was obviously in charge ... both of the others turned
to report to him as they searched. There was something about the way
that one moved. Something familiar ... They wore no traditional
Klingon garb that he had ever seen. And none of these figures looked big
enough to be any of Karg's men. The shapes of their heads in the shadows
seemed ...
"We must kill them with the first shot," Valdyr murmured softly in his
ear, "or we will never escape."
He nodded distractedly, even as the three searching figures drew closer
to their hiding place. "Wait," he whispered,
"let them get closer first. We can't afford to miss."
She aimed her weapon, even as he did. But then he lowered the disrupter.
He was too busy staring at the tallest of the three figures. There were
too many things all wrong about this. The tall searcher suddenly moved
through a beam of light, and his face was illuminated. Peter saw a flash
of a familiar arching eyebrow, and the unmistakable curve of a pointed
ear.
Valdyr took deadly aim at the stocky male who was now almost on top of
them. Peter lurched, grabbed her firing hand, and called, "Valdyr, no!"
She turned to him, her face twisted in confusion. The three stealthy
figures turned in unison toward the sound.
Peter surged to his feet, distantly hearing the Klingon woman's shoc ked
growl. She clutched at him, attempting to pull him down, but he yanked
free and bolted away, trying to get clear of the crates. "Uncle Jim!" he
called softly. "It's me! Peter!"
"Peter?" Kirk halted on the pavement, staring wildly around until he
spotted his nephew. "Peter?
The young Kirk launched himself at his relative, and Jim seized his
nephew in a bear hug, nearly lifting the taller man off the ground. They
pounded each other's backs until they wheezed, grinning wildly.
"Gentlemen, I hate to intrude." Spock's cool tones cut across their
emotional give-and-take. "However, if we are to effect our escape, we
must not lose any time."
"I'm with Spock on that, Jim," Leonard McCoy agreed, glancing furtively
around. "We can't afford to get caught now."
"Right," Kirk said, stepping back and regarding Peter fondly. Then the
cadet watched his uncle's expression change to surprise, then alarm.
Peter turned to see Valdyr cautiously emerging from behind the stacks of
crates. She was still clutching the disrupter. All three men wheeled in
her direction, even as Jim Kirk's hand dropped to his phaser.
"No, Jim! Wait! She's with me! That is ..." He paused, collected his
wits as all three men glanced between him and the Klingon woman. He
walked over to the crates and took Valdyr by the arm. He murmured to
her, "Time to holster the weapon." Then, leading her somewhat
reluctantly to the small group, he introduced her. "Captain James T.
Kirk, Dr. Leonard McCoy, Captain Spock ... this is
Valdyr. I wouldn't
be here without her. She helped me escape.
She's ... on our side." Peter trailed off, his face growing hot. The
captain stared at his nephew, as if wanting to be sure he meant what he
said.
"So," Valdyr said, eyeing the senior Kirk up and down,
"this is the famous legend?"
The captain looked slightly abashed. "Well ... I am out of uniform ...
"
"I presume she provided you with the Klingon robe," Spock asked,
reaching over to pull an object from it, "and the tracer?"
Peter nodded.
The Vulcan examined the device. "Yes. Here is the cause of those
confusing tricorder readings. It very nearly kept us from locating you."
"It kept Kamarag's men from finding us, as well," Peter explained while
Valdyr glowered.
"I can well imagine," Spock agreed dryly. "It is fortunate that
Federation technology is more advanced than ..."
McCoy elbowed Spock, and the Vulcan abruptly fell silent. The doctor
stepped smoothly into the breach, all his Southern courtliness in
evidence. "Well, if you've been helpin' Peter out, miss, we're all
mighty grateful. Aren't we, Jim?"
Kirk paused for a second, then finally said quietly, "Of course we are.
Thank you for helping Peter. For ..." He glanced quizzically at his
nephew." ... everything ... "
Star Trek - Sarek Page 38