Black Fire (7 page)

IIob was a relatively reasonable being. Once he understood just how much Scott's knowledge of engineering surpassed his own, he gave the engineer a free hand, studying his procedures and absorbing them quickly. IIsa had indicated how advanced the Federation's technology was. It was IIob's responsibility to incorporate the new knowledge into the Tomariian systems; he expected to have a more advanced launch technique soon. His contributions to the upcoming maneuvers would be vital.

Wearing the skins he was given, and with the thick beard and longer hair he was growing, Scott looked like a Celtic warrior of old. In the morning's military practice, he carried IIob's banner at the head of the march, appearing as primitive as his hairy companions.

While he taught IIob a few technological tricks, IIob in turn had told him almost all he needed to know about Tomariian technology. It was information crucial in formulating an escape plan. His apparent cooperation allowed Scott to move freely and study the Tomariian weaknesses. He hadn't seen Spock, nor had he heard anything of the others who had been captured with him. With no other option, he was biding his time, awaiting the opportunity to communicate his discoveries to one of the others.

The Klingons fared very well since the Tomariian warrior society was not unlike their own. Yet they, too, were studying the weaknesses of their enemy with the intention to escape. With typical pragmatism, Commander Klee was contemplating, with vengeful anticipation, the possibilities of a Klingon takeover in this virgin territory.

Placus and Delus, the Romulan captives, took more of an intellectual approach to their confinement. They surprised their captors with their physical strength and endurance. The Romulans were capable of ferocity equal to the Klingons'—if adequately provoked. Julina was a born warrior; trained in the Romulan tradition, she was an expert in rapid strategic decision-making, the use of complex weaponry, and hand-to-hand combat. She outdid IIsa the training sessions each morning, particularly in those exercises which required agility and speed. IIsa watched the Romulan commander with great interest, and some jealousy.

Spock's prowess with the primitive weapons was almost equal to IIsa's; had he been in top physical condition, he would have astounded his captors with his abilities. As it was, he held his own by forcing himself to perform each task while masking his growing disability. But from what IIsa had learned on the
Enterprise
, Spock should have been performing even better. She decided to confront him with her disappointment in his training-session performance. In the cavernous room which served for her audiences, IIsa questioned her prisoner.

"Spock, you are not performing well enough in the preparations for battle. I find your prowess is not equal to what I expected. Is there some difficulty?"

"Begum," he addressed her respectfully, "it must be the lack of food. There is insufficient plant life to sustain me."

"Then you must eat the meat we provide for you."

"I cannot eat animal flesh."

"You mean you
will not
, Spock. You choose not to cooperate. I will not have you weakened further because of some Vulcan ideal. It is wasteful and would spoil my plan. Must I force the food into you?"

Spock placed his hands behind his back and took a determined stance. "That would be an unfortunate choice on your part, Begum. I would be forced to resist, which could cause me injury. I know you do not wish me injured. I do not entirely understand why you have taken me and the other prisoners, but I can see it is definitely to your advantage that we remain strong and healthy. I am correct, am I not?"

"Yes, Spock," IIsa conceded. "I do need you at your full strength. I have sent for the food you require. In turn, you must promise to try to perform better."

"I will do my best, Begum." Spock replied docilely, aware that he would have a much more difficult time masking his physical deterioration from IIsa in the future.

The nights were nearly unbearable. Both Spock and Julina suffered intensely from the cold. They were quartered together as IIsa's captives. For Spock, the lack of privacy was just one more annoyance; for Julina, accustomed to bivouacking with her men, it was a satisfactory arrangement. They slept on a pile of furs on the stone floor, which barely provided enough warmth. It was the practical Romulan commander who finally arrived at a partial solution to remedy the discomfort.

"Spock, we are both freezing. If we sleep together and share our body warmth, we'd both benefit."

"I prefer to sleep alone" was the stiff response.

"Consider the arrangement as a practical necessity. It is a logical solution to the problem."

He had to concede she was right.

It didn't take Julina long to notice her companion's discomfort when she made even the slightest move beside him in the night. She also noticed his difficulty in rising in the morning. Finally, after a particularly grueling day, when Spock lay down beside her in the dark, Julina could hear his uneven breathing as he fought to control the pain. She drew close to him for warmth; he winced when she touched him.

The darkness and the intimacy of their sleeping arrangements made Julina breach the unspoken agreement between them to keep their rapport on the level of a pragmatic alliance. Julina was aware of Spock's emotional restraint concerning her; she understood and accepted it. She had made no advances toward Spock, but that did not reflect any lack of desire on her part to do so. Her concern now was more immediate—Spock was in pain. She spoke with the darkness as an ally, hiding her deep concern.

"Spock, I must speak with you."

He was silent, struggling to cover his discomfort.

"I know you are in pain. I have been aware of it for some time. It is time you told me what is wrong. I want to help you."

"I prefer not to discuss my physical condition. I am quite all right."

"You might be able to hide your problem from IIsa, but not from me. The slightest move on my part causes you severe discomfort. I can tell it's getting worse. Please, permit me to share your burden. I might be able to ease your condition."

"There is no way you can help me," Spock said wearily.

"I'm sure you are aware of Romulan abilities, Spock; we are of the same genetic strain. We have a limited ability to link with the mind."

"Yes, I am aware of Romulan telepathic abilities. You are not the first Romulan I have met, Julina. My experience with another Romulan commander was quite … illuminating."

For an instant, a flash of jealousy struck Julina. Her competitive nature took precedence over her normal calm stoicism. "You have known another Romulan woman?"

Spock didn't answer; he remained silent in the darkness.

Julina controlled her jealous outburst. "It doesn't matter, Spock. We are here now, and you need help. Permit me to relieve you of some of your pain. Tell me why you suffer so."

Her persistence could not be ignored. Spock realized he would have no peace until he told her what she wanted to know. He spoke quietly.

"I told IIsa a half-truth. The explosion on board the
Enterprise
was devastating. I carry a sliver of metal near my spine which could not be removed immediately. It is causing me great pain. I am able to control it, marginally. I am beginning to lose feeling in my right leg. I can hardly keep from limping now. Soon I will be unable to hide the weakness. You cannot keep the metal from moving, or the physical deterioration from taking place. I was warned of this possibility, but I chose to ignore it."

Julina turned toward Spock, placing her hands lightly on his temple. She pressed the area much as a Vulcan would, sharing his pain for a brief moment before she pulled away, unable to tolerate any more.

"Spock, I hadn't realized how intensely you were suffering. I am afraid I can only partially help you."

He held her hands to prevent another meld, but she freed them, again placing her probing fingers on his head, drawing some of his pain into herself.

3

The solar cycle was nearly over. The red sun that dominated the Tomariian day faded even more and the planet became unbearably cold. It was time for the war campaigns to begin.

The prisoners had been trained and now preparations were being made for battle. The rockets were ready for firing; their on-ground support crews were ready to retreat to warmer, underground chambers throughout the long cycle of Tomariian cold. The purpose of the warfare and where it would occur were still mysteries to the prisoners, who, with their Tomariian captors, boarded the ships to leave the planet. Spock and Julina were placed in the lead ship with IIsa. The others went with their Tomariian custodians into the other ships, ready for takeoff.

Spock's curiosity could not be suppressed; he was too reliant on information to formulate some strategy to deal with the situation, to be kept completely uninformed for much longer. He chafed to be on the bridge where the Begum was directing her forces. Forced to sit in the confines of a small compartment in the bowels of the ship, the Vulcan reflected on the fats he did possess, sharing his observations with Julina.

"These Tomariians remain an enigma. Their architecture and other material culture is as bleak as any I have ever encountered. IIsa's household, however, contains some objects of astonishing beauty. That gold cup she is so proud of is so finely wrought that it has the intricacy of a spider's web, and the plate on the wall is cast with a delicacy of workmanship beyond anything I have ever seen in the craft. A sculpture which she has half-obscured in a corner has lines so carefully balanced they would overwhelm even a Vulcan's sense of aesthetics.

"There are other things which do not fit in with the Tomariian utilitarian existence. These artifacts seem to be from different planets, with different concepts of design and material, collected in what seems to be a random sampling. And not all of what has been accumulated is of value. Some is absolutely worthless. The Tomariians seem to make no distinction between the truly artistic masterpiece and the tourist items sold on pleasure planets."

"It makes no sense to me at all, Spock. I have never confronted any race or culture like this in all of my space experience."

"Neither have I," Spock said, continuing his analysis. "The animal skins Tomariians choose to wear are primitive—I can think of no better word to describe them. Their jewelry, except for that which is obviously a device, such as IIsa's ring, varies in quality as much as the other artifacts I have examined. I am convinced they are the spoils of war, a collection of samples taken from many different worlds by the Tomariians."

"I tend to agree with you. But if what you say is true, they have a much greater sphere of influence than I would have imagined."

"Yes, and in this context, the inconsistencies in technology are explained," he commented. "The Tomariians use the technology they acquire from their conquered enemies, taking what they find useful. They discard things they regard as superfluous, so their technology, like their collection of artifacts, is piecemeal. They are not innovators, simply Scavengers, developing only enough of their own technology to have started them in their ventures of conquest. How broad their influence is remains to be determined. But from what I can deduce, it is impressively extensive."

The Tomariians were on a new mission now, though whether one of conquest or otherwise, the Vulcan did not know. He thought back to their preparations: They had taken a sportsman's pleasure in the prospective war, wagering on the results. Spock was sure they had wagered on their prisoners' performances as well. As he thought the entire Tomariian rationale became clear.

"I now understand what our role must be. We are a test sample. Our performance in battle will be an indication of our respective forces' potential strength."

"So that is why we were attacked," Julina said. "It was not an overt act designed to start a confrontation. It was a successful breach of the Empire's security, proof of a weakness in our defenses. It was a test to draw victims into the Tomariian web and we took the bait. The attacks on the Federation and the Klingon Empire were the same."

"Now the final test is about to take place. It will be a trial of survival, testing our tenacity, ingenuity, and prowess under battle conditions, Julina. It is imperative to prove to the Tomariians our determination to protect our peoples. Ironic," Spock pondered wryly, "that I represent the Federation in this test. A citizen of the one planet most dedicated to nonviolence."

He looked over to Julina, who'd been unusually quiet during the journey. She had hoped to take advantage of the coming battle to reunite her party and escape, but that opportunity would never present itself. The others' ships were deployed elsewhere; evidently, the forces would not join for a single battle. Three attack groups were sent forth, each to a different planet, each with a different mission.

Last-minute preparations were in progress; a final session was called. "We are assigned a noble task," IIsa proclaimed to the gathered forces. "Our duty calls for stopping the insurrection of Tomariian forces on this planet. It is the ultimate of missions. Tomariian fighting Tomariian, a battle between forces who equally enjoy the skills and risks of battle." Spock could see the Tomariians literally lick their lips in anticipation.

With battle strategy being planned, Spock and Julina had been brought to the briefing room and given their instructions. Spock was handed a long spear on which a flag was attached. He noticed that the Tomariians carried spears and knives, but as a backup, in holsters around their waists, they also wore phaserlike weapons. Obviously, they carried advanced weapons should their more traditional ones prove inadequate. Evidently, the Tomariians were not bound by integrity; they were quite capable of stacking the deck, if necessary.

"Is this my only weapon?" Spock inquired of the officer in charge.

"Afraid?" the burly Tomariian commander asked, sneering at what he interpreted as fear on Spock's part.

Spock raised an eyebrow of consternation, while testing the sharpness of the point with the edge of his finger. He felt no need to respond.