Star Trek - Sarek

by A. C. Crispin

  shields immediately. Understood?"

  "Aye, sir," Spock agreed.

  "Enterprise," a gasping voice called over the intercom,

  "batteries have ruptured and are draining. We have less than ten

  minutes' air

  "The garbled message was drowned in static.

  "Lieutenant Uhura," Peter instructed, removing his vest, "beam a message

  to the Maru. Remind them of standard Federation evacuation drills. They

  should already have all personnel in spacesuits or encased in protective

  fields in accordance with abandon-ship procedures. We can't afford to

  rush in there."

  turned at the sound of the bridge doors and saw Dr. McCoy entering,

  dragging two heavy lirpas behind him.

  a baffled expression, the doctor handed them over to the young captain.

  "Commander Uhura," Peter continued, "open a hailing frequency in the

  direction of those cloaked coordinates. Prepare to transmit a message on

  wide beam."

  smiled at the bridge crew, knowing they must think he'd gone crazy.

  Maybe he was crazy, because he was starting to enjoy himself. This whole

  situation was a real challenge, and he already knew he'd kept his ship

  from being blown to smithereens far longer than most candidates made it.

  Of course, it was all for nothing if he couldn't pull off the rescue of

  at least the personnel aboard Kobayashi Maru.

  looked over at Communications inquiringly.

  "Sir, hailing frequencies are open." She looked over at Spock and

  shrugged.

  "This is Captain Peter Kirk hailing the commander of the fleet

  surrounding the injured ship Kobayashi Maru. We are aware of the trap

  you have set and, frankly, Commander, I find your clumsy ploy insulting.

  In response to this slight, I now have something to say to you

  T'kevaidors a skelitus dunt'ryala aikriian paselitan ... Toriatal." He

  heard Spock take a sharp breath that was almost a gasp. "Commander"

  --Peter dropped back into Standard English--"I issue this challenge

  under the ancient law of Toriatal. By rights, you must respond to my

  declaration." Silence. Total, dead silence.

  Peter waited, sweating. It no longer mattered that it was just a

  simulation. He was as charged up as if he really were facing an

  invisible enemy. Clutching the two lirpas, he listened to the blood

  rushing in his ears.

  The simulation program, he thought as he waited. It's trying to figure

  out how to respond to my challenge.

  Suddenly, Uhura's mouth dropped open. "Captain," she said breathlessly,

  "we're being hailed ... by the Romulan commander!"

  "On-screen, Lieutenant," he said, as he lifted one of the lirpas and

  held it in a defensive position. The screen shifted,

  changing, showing the interior of a Romulan cruiser, and an image of a

  Romulan commander standing there.

  "Who are you to issue the ancient challenge?" the holo-commander

  demanded. "You are merely human. I am not obligated to respond to an

  outworlder who dares to issue the Toriatal."

  "You are obligated," Peter insisted, trying to remain cool.

  His shirt was sticking to him as he held the heavy lirpa at the ready,

  with the other leaning against the command chair beside him. "The law is

  clear. "Whoever issues the Toriatal challenge has the right to be

  answered. No leader may ignore a pi'operly given challenge." I have

  issued it in the tradition of your oldest laws. What do you say? Do you

  accept the challenge? Or are you afraid to fight a human?"

  Again the long pause. Finally, the holo-commander said, hollowly, "I

  accept the challenge."

  "The choice of weapons is mine," Peter announced, "and I have chosen

  lirpas."

  "Captain," Spock said clearly, "several of the Romulan vessels are

  bringing their weapons on-line."

  "Will you disobey your own law, Romulan, and allow your ships to fire

  upon us, even after I have issued the challenge?" Peter demanded. "If

  you do, you dishonor your own heritage! The Toriatal mandates a state of

  truce while it is in effect!"

  The holo-commander was still for nearly a minute; then the image turned

  its head and spoke to someone not in visual range.

  Peter saw Spock's eyebrow climb. "Weapons ... are being taken off-line,

  sir."

  "Mr. Spock, I order you to beam me over to those coordinates," Peter

  instructed his science officer. "While I am engaging the Romulan

  commander, you and Mr. Scott will beam over every survivor from the

  Kobayashi Maru. As soon as you have them all, order full astern speed,

  and retreat back into the nebula. The Romulans will not be willing to

  follow you in there. From there, you can make your escape."

  Before Spock could offer his own protest, McCoy blurted,

  "Are you crazy? He's gonna slice you into ribbons with that thing, and

  while he's doin' it, his other ships are gonna play target practice with

  us!"

  "No, they won't," Peter told McCoy. "While the commander and I are in

  combat, his troops must, by law, hold their fire, as must we. But

  there's nothing in the law that says you can't quietly transport those

  people off the Maru and get the hell out of here."

  "Captain, I cannot allow you to do this," Spock said, quietly. "Even if

  you were to defeat the Romulan commander, it is unlikely they will

  return you to us. This is suicide."

  Peter paused. "It's a no-win situation, Mr. Spock, I'll give you that.

  But only for me. The Enterprise and the Kobayashi Maru will be safe. And

  as the captain, my job is to insure the safety of the ship." He picked

  up the second lirpa and keyed the intercom. "Mr. Scott, stand by with

  those cargo transporters.

  Transporter Chief?."

  A mechanical-sounding voice said, "Transporter room, aye."

  "Beam me directly from the bridge to the bridge of the Romulan vessel,"

  Peter said, and, checking Chekov's readouts, gave the coordinates.

  "Energize!" What's going to happen now? he wondered. Would they actually

  beam him someplace? Would he really have to fight someone?

  Suddenly, a voice outside the bridge doors called out,

  "Wait a minute, wait a minute! Open these doors! Lights on!" The bridge

  doors slid open and Commandant Kyle Anderson stormed in. "What the hell

  is going on here?

  Cadet, where did you come up with these 'anomalies' and energy readings

  you're talking about? This is totally irregular."

  Peter had to blink to reorient himself out of the simulation and back to

  real life. His blood pressure was up, and he was really ready for a good

  fight. "Here, sir," Peter said, putting down his lirpa and walking over

  to Chekov's console.

  "The anomalies are hard to spot, but the energy signature gives you

  something to look for "

  "That's impossible!" the commandant protested, not even looking at the

  readout. "No one can spot a cloaked vessel["

  Spock suddenly cleared his throat. "With all due respect, Commandant, I

  am afraid that Cadet Kirk is correct. While he was aboard the

  Enterprise, I acquainted him with some research that Mr. Scott and I

  have been conducting. Our discoveries are still in the develo
pmental

  stage, but, during our escape from Qo'nos, Cadet Kirk had occasion to

  monitor electromagnetic signatures on Klingon vessels."

  "I see," the commandant said, as Spock showed him the anomalies. "All

  right. I can see where that gave you an advantage in this scenario, but

  what's all this nonsense about ancient Romulan challenges? Those ships

  would've blown you out of space while you were waving that thing"--he

  pointed to the lirpa--"in their faces."

  Again, Spock came to his rescue. "With all due respect, sir, that's not

  the case. That challenge dates from Pre-Reformation times on Vulcan, and

  is respected by the Romulans. Cadet Kirk issued it correctly,

  Commandant.

  Even his pronunciation in Old High Vulcan was nearly perfect."

  "Hmmm," the commandant said, "and they'd have to cease hostilities while

  he fought the commander?" Spock nodded.

  Anderson's features suddenly broke out in a wide grin.

  "Well ... damn! Looks like you've spent too much time in space, Cadet

  Kirk. This test is designed for inexperienced trainees!" He shook his

  head. "Believe me, we'll fix those readings for the next poor fool who

  has to face this scenario!

  But for now ... it looks like you're the second Kirk to beat the no-win

  scenario. And you didn't have to reprogram the computer to do it!" He

  extended his hand to the cadet, who took it, shaking it heartily.

  "But sir," Chekov protested, "the Romulans would have surely killed

  him!"

  "But he would've saved his ship and the people from the Kobayashi Maru,

  and all without firing a shot!" another voice added from the bridge

  doors.

  Peter looked up to see his uncle standing there, smiling at him.

  "A captain must be willing to sacrifice himself for his ship," Kirk

  reminded everyone. "That's his job. Congratulations, Peter. That was one

  hell of a test."

  Peter nodded at everyone as they filed out. It was several minutes

  before Peter and his uncle had privacy. The captain held out his hand

  and, when his nephew took it, clapped him on the shoulder, grinning

  proudly. "I knew you could do it," he exclaimed.

  "I was inspired by recent events," Peter said, dryly.

  "Obviously--but that doesn't take away from the fact that you kept your

  head, and figured it all out. You're going to make a great captain

  someday."

  The younger man shook his head. "With all due respect, Uncle Jim ... I'm

  quitting Command track today. I'm requesting reassignment to the

  Starfleet diplomatic corps.

  Ambassador Sarek is giving me a recommendation. Recent events have made

  me realize that that's what I really want to do with my life."

  Kirk regarded his nephew intently for nearly a minute, then nodded.

  "It's your choice, Peter, and I respect you for makin g a difficult

  decision." Humor glinted in the hazel eyes. "You weren't influenced in

  your decision by the notion of attending long diplomatic conferences

  with the Klingons, were you?"

  Peter grinned. "Let's just say that I'll be taking a lot more classes in

  Klingon language and culture," he admitted.

  The two fell into step and went out into the corridor, through the

  gleaming lobby of the Starfleet Academy.

  "You're writing to her?" the captain asked.

  "Yes ... and I got a reply last week. She's in school already and likes

  it. Sheg. taking a course in advanced Standard English!"

  "By the time you two meet again, any language barrier should be a thing

  of the past," Kirk said, as they crossed the broad plaza that lay at the

  foot of Starfleet's gleaming towers.

  "By the time we meet again, let's hope a lot of barriers will

  be a thing of the past," Peter said. "We'll both be working toward that,

  Uncle Jim." James Tiberius Kirk smiled at his brother's son. "It isn't

  often that personal interest and duty coincide." Peter nodded. "But when

  it does ... it's great."

  "I wish both of you the best of luck, Peter, I mean that." The younger

  Kirk smiled. "I know you do. And that means a lot to me, Uncle Jim."

  "And I want you to know something else," Jim admitted.

  "I also think you would've been a hell of a starship captain." Peter

  beamed. He knew that, in his uncle's eyes, this was the finest

  compliment he could give anyone. "Thanks, Uncle Jim. But I'd never hold

  a candle to you." The senior Kirk grinned and slapped his nephew on the

  back. The captain of the Enterprise quickened his pace.

  "Come on ... everyone's waiting for us." Then, suddenly, the hazel eyes

  twinkled. "Ambassador Kirk, do you think?

  Someday?" Peter shrugged. "You never know ..."

  "Ambassador Kirk ..." the captain muttered, trying it on for size. "The

  more I say it, the better it sounds ... "

  Spock stood in the huge, skylighted conference chamber on the world

  called Khitomer. The new peace conference boasted dozens of beings from

  many worlds ... but not one Freelan. The absence of the cloaked and

  masked delegates had been noted and commented upon, but only the member

  worlds of the Federation Security Council knew the truth.

  In the weeks since the Enterprise had brought the captive Vulcans out of

  the Neutral Zone, the tensions in the galaxy had eased considerably. The

  ringleaders of the KEHL, including Lisa Tennant, had been arrested and

  charged with breaking into the computer system at the Vulcan consulate,

  and for assaulting and abducting Peter Kirk. With its most dedicated

  members out of action, the group was gradually returning to its status

  as a harmless fringe organization.

  Azetbur's dramatic rescue operation against the Klingon renegades had

  restored the Federation's faith i the new chancellor, and this new peace

  conference was a result.

  Scientists from many worlds had been asked to join with governmental

  delegates to advise the Federation on how best to help the Klingon

  homeworld solve its many problems.

  Today's sessions had been devoted to discussion of how the effects of

  Praxis's explosion on Qo'nos might be overcome. Tomorrow the agenda

  included the possibility of economic aid.

  The Vulcan was attending the conference as one of Starfleet's

  representatives. He'd enjoyed the day's session; searching for

  scientific solutions to the problems facing Qo'nos was a stimulating

  challenge. Now, as the delegates milled around, talking in groups after

  the formal meetings had broken up, Spock searched the room for his

  father. He had not seen Sarek since his arrival yesterday.

  "A good session today, don't you think, Captain Spock?" came a voice

  from behind him. Turning, Spock saw the new Romulan delegate, Pardek,

  standing beside him. The Vulcan had been somewhat surprised when the

  Empire had sent a delegate to replace Nanclus, in light of recent events

  with Freelan, but, then, the Romulans had always excelled at talking

  peace while plotting war.

  "I agree," he said. Pardek was a little older than the Vulcan, with

  rather heavy features and thick brow ridges.

  He was stocky and compactly built, with the air of one who has known

  military service
. Not unusual in a Romulan.

  "It is an honor to meet you, Captain," Pardek said. "Your name has been

  ... prominent ... in the Empire for a long time, now." Spock raised an

  eyebrow, amused at the word choice.

  "Indeed?" he asked dryly.

  "You and your father both are well known to my government," Pardek said,

  and the Vulcan knew he hadn't missed the irony. "Especially in the light

  of recent events." Spock had to conceal surprise that the Romulan was

  being even this direct. "Recent events," Spock repeated, "have.

  certainly been ... stimulating."

  "Undeniably," Pardek agreed. "By the way ... what has become of that

  radical organization that was causing Earth so much trouble in the

  recent past? That group of xeno-phobes.

  I have scanned nothing about it in the media reports for days."

  Spock slanted the Romulan an ironic glance, but Pardek remained

  unruffled. "The Keep Earth Human League has been singularly quiet

  lately," the Starfleet officer replied.

  "The membership seems to be ... dissolving. Odd, isn't it?"

  "Isn't it?" Pardek agreed, blandly. "I was thinking, Captain Spock. A

  discussion of ... recent events might prove interesting between us. An