Star Trek: The Original Series - 082 - Federation (16 page)

“I am Starfleet Command on this ship, Captain. And we are in communication. The Enterprise isn’t a private yacht for your own amusement—for u u u games with tongue depressors.” Kirk made one of the hardest command decisions he had made in months: he kept his mouth shut.

“Warp factor eight, Captain. Unless you’ve let standards on board the Enterprise drop so low you don’t think she can maintain it.” “Is that an order, Admiral?” The ship could manage warp eight for brief periods of time, but it strained all systems, as well as the ship’s structure.

“You’re damned right it is.” “Then we’ll go to warp factor eight at my chief engineer’s discretion. And I shall also log my objection to the unnecessary risk to which your order has exposed this ship and crew.” Unexpectedly, Kabreigny almost grinned. She was clearly an officer who thrived on confrontation. “Noted, Captain. I will look forward to any board of inquiry you care to call.” Then, before Kirk could try to get the last word, Kabreigny turned her back on him and left the transporter room.

Kirk stared at the doors as they slid shut behind her. McCoy came to stand by his side.

“How’s your back, Captain?” He obviously thought there was more to Kirk’s foul mood than the provocation of the admiral’s curt manner.

But Kirk ignored the question, just as he ignored the constant low-level pain around the knife wound. He thought McCoy was on the right track, but from the wrong side. “There’s something more to Admiral Kabreigny’s presence on this ship than that missing liner. isn’t there?” Kirk said.

McCov didn’t reply until Spock had dismissed the transporter technician and the three senior officers were alone.

“The message from Nancy Hedford can’t be going down too xvell at Command, either,” the doctor said.

But Kirk shook his head. “No, even more than that. Her whole confrontational manner… I know she’s got a reputation for being abrasive, single-minded, determined to get her way no matter what the cost…”

“They let people like that into Starfleet?” McCoy interrupted with an innocent expression.

Kirk narrowed his eyes at the doctor’s idea of a joke. He preferred Sarek’s dry wit, instead. He turned to his science oflScer.

“Mr. Spock, those… friends of yours who informed you about the explosion at Starfleet Archives, do you think they might be able to shed some light on the admiral?” “In what sense, Captain?” Kirk frowned thoughtfully. “Any special projects she might be involved in, special interests… anything that might explain what appears to be her overreaction to that liner’s disappearance and the message from the commissioner.” McCoy put his hand on Kirk’s arm in a cautioning gesture. “Is it an overreaction?” he asked.

Kirk was certain. “On the surface, the worst thing I could be guilty of is failing to report a navigational hazard and conspiring with my ship’s surgeon to hide the true cause of death for an important passenger. From Command’s point of view, those are serious charges. But not as serious as the admiral is making them out to be.” “You don’t suppose she knows anything about Cochrane, do you?” McCoy asked.

Kirk shrugged. “What if she does? As Spock said, he’s little more than a historical curiosity. His desire for privacy is so he can avoid the onslaught of historians he’d be subjected to.” Then Kirk caught sight of Spock’s expression, as if he were about to speak.

“You don’t agree?” “Could it be possible that Cochrane has another reason for keeping his whereabouts secret?” McCoy rolled his eyes. “Like what? An ex-wife waiting for… what did they call it back then… ‘alimony,’ Mr.

Spock?” Kirk agreed with McCoy’s assessment. “As far as anyone else knows, he’s been dead for one hundred and fifty years.” “As I recall,” Spock continued, “history does not record much detail about the nature of his disappearance.” Kirk didn’t like his idea being sidetracked. “He was eighty-seven years old, Spock. He told us himself he was going to die and he wanted to die in space. That sounds like a man who had made a deliberate decision to break off with the details of living. I doubt he had any unfinished business.” Spock studied Kirk and McCoy for a few moments, then appeared to make his own decision. “Nonetheless, I shall investigate both avenues: Admiral Kabreigny’s interest in these matters,
md the nature of Zefram Cochrane’s latter years, prior to his disappearance.” “At warp eight, you’ve got less than seventy-two hours,” Kirk said. “Which reminds me, I should be hearing from Mr. Scott right about—” The intercom signaled and Chief Engineer Scott’s agitated voice said. “Captain Kirk to Engineering.” Kirk went back to the wall panel, hit the Send switch. “Go ahead, Scotty.” “Captain, Admiral Kabreigny was just here—in the engine room. sir. And she says we’re t’ make warp eight all the way t’ Ganmla Canaris.” “Is the Enwrprise up to it, Mr. Scott?” “Ave. Captain. Warp eight and a wee bit more if you’ll be needing it.” “Then what’s the problem?” Kirk asked.

“No problem, sir. It’s just that…” Scott obviously couldn’t bring himself to admit the reason for his call.

“I understand, Scotty,” Kirk said. “Your orders are confirmed.” Scott quickly replied, “I wasn’t looking for confirmation, Captain.” “I know” Kirk said with a smile. “No Starfleet officer would need to check the orders of an admiral.” “Absolutely not, sir.” “But off the record, Mr. Scott, there’s good reason to push the engines to warp eight,” Kirk zid. “The admiral is not taking them for granted.” The relief in Scott’s voice was unmistakable. “OFF the record, thank ye. sir. Scott out.” “Off’ the record,” McCoy added, “I’d say the admiral is not endearing herself to too many of the crew.”

“Off the record,” Spock said, “I shall endeavor to find out why.” “And on the record,” Kirk said, “I don’t believe there is good reason to strain this ship. So for the Enterprise’s sake, and the admiral’s, Mr. Spock, I hope you do come up with something.” “I would prefer not to,” Spock said. To Kirk’s unvoiced question, he added, “As things stand now, the only logical explanation for the admiral’s behavior would be most distressing.” But he would not elaborate further, and left Kirk and McCoy in the transporter room, alone to wonder what Spock knew, and when they would learn it.

U.S.S. ENTERPRISE NCC-1701-D STANDARD ORBIT LEGARA IV Stardate 43920.6 Earth Standard: May 2366

Picard touched the communicator at his chest and called for Engineering. Lieutenant Commander Geordi La Forge responded immediately.

‘Mr. La Forge, I want your opinion of the artifact being displayed on the main viewscreen.” “Calling it up now, Captain.” The chief engineer’s disembodied voice was the single one heard in the silence of the bridge. The only other sound was the pervasive background whisper of the Enterprise’s many systems.

Everyone else had recognized the provenance of the artifact the Ferengi had displayed and which now filled the entire viewscreen, but Picard knew his crew remained silent in order not to interfere ith their captain’s negotiations with DaiMon Pol.

La Forge whistled. “I know what it looks like, Captain. Part of a Borg ship. Any idea what scale we’re dealing with?” Picard spoke to the empty air. “DaiMon Pol—” As quickly as that the Ferengi was back on the main screen.

“You have our attention,” Picard admitted. “Can you provide any details as to the size, location, and operational status of the object you have shown us?”

The Ferengi settled back in his own version of a captain’s chair.

Unfortunately, it was designed for the larger frame of a Romulan and gave the impression of a child in a grown-up’s seat. Picard could imagine the Ferengi’s feet swinging back and forth above the deck.

“Because I like you, Pee-card, I will give you some information, even though this generous offer on my part cannot profit me in any way.” The grin had returned. The DaiMon obviously felt he had regained control of the negotiations. “The object’s mass is forty-five point three five kilotonnes. And it has no operational status, though it does have a functioning power supply. The location, alas, is something I, as a poor though honest trader, must keep to myself. At least, for now.” The Ferengi’s grin broadened for a moment, then became an insincere frown. “But, if you are not interested, you are not interested. Such is the woeful lot of a trader. However, if there is anything else I might be able to provide for you or your crew… Romulan ale, Deltan holochips… anything at all, please do not hesitate to call upon me. I shall remain in orbit of Legara IV for, let us say, one standard hour.” DaiMon Pol’s image winked out, replaced by a forward view of the Warbird. It was crisp and steady. Whatever had earlier been wrong with its cloaking device had apparently been rectified.

Picard turned to face his crew. “Lieutenant Worfi Send a priority message to Admiral J.P. Hanson, Starbase 324. Inform the admiral that a Ferengi trader has offered us the opportunity to ‘purchase’ what appears to be a sizable and inactive section of a Borg vessel. Transmit the visual image DaiMon Pol showed us.” Picard tugged on the bottom of his tunic. “Senior officers, to the observation lounge.” He had an hour. It was time to plan strategy.

In the observation lounge, Legara IV moved slowly past the windows and the image of the Borg artifact was displayed on the main wall viewer. But everyone’s attention was on the captain.

“At this distance from Starbase 324, we will not hear back from Admiral Hanson before DaiMon Pol’s time limit is up,” Picard said. “Which is a shame, because the admiral is leading the effort to prepare the Fleet for the inevitable arrival of the Borg.”

“I think we can assume that the admiral will want that artifact, whatever the price,” Riker added thoughtfully.

“Oh, I agree, Number One. But don’t let DaiMon Pol hear those words, ‘at any price,’ because that’s exactly what he’ll charge.” “Not necessarily,” Riker replied. Picard and the other officers at the conference table waited expectantly. La Forge had arrived from Engineering, Dr. Crusher from sickbay, and Worf from his tactical console. Counselor Troi was still in her Parrises Squares uniform. but her face had returned to its usual, less florid color.

Data sat beside her.

“Please. Continue,” Picard said.

Riker did. “I agree with your assessment of DaiMon Pol’s chances of conducting business with the Romulans. That ship is obviously stolen and the Ferengi are having a hard time operating her. There’s no doubt that the Romulans have had their own run-ins with the Borg, and would dearly love to get hold of that Borg artifact. But they’d dearly love to get hold of DaiMon Pol as well, so we might well be his only customer.” “Which will put us in a powerful negotiating position,” Troi concluded.

“However,” Data added, “if there is even the slightest possibility of DaiMon Pol selling the artifact to the Romulans, I suggest we do all that we can to prevent their acquisition of it. If the Federation obtains the artifact and learns from it a suitable defense against the Borg, then the Federation will share that information with the Romulans and, indeed, with all the nonaligned systems. If the Romulans do the same, their past record indicates that they will not be as forthcoming.” Worf looked troubled. “Why should the Ferengi want to sell the artifact’: Why not examine it themselves, come up with defensive strategies. and sell those instead?” Data responded. “The sum of known Ferengi science and technology is basically an elaborate collection of devices and knowledge which they have acquired from other cultures. They have no strong research and development capability of their OWn.”

“So,” Riker continued, “it’s to their advantage to sell it to us because we stand a better chance of unlocking the Borg’s secrets before anyone else.” He smiled at the captain. “Our position is looking better all the time.” But La Forge raised an objection. “There is another possibility, Commander. What if the Ferengi have already examined the artifact and found out it’s just junk? Instead of throwing it away, they’re trying to cheat us.” “Or,” Dr. Crusher added, giving Picard a skeptical look from beneath her vibrant red hair, “the Ferengi are attempting to sell the same artifact to a number of different buyers at the same time.” Troi looked surprised. “I wouldn’t have thought of that.” “You’re not as devious as the doctor,” Riker said with a grin.

“But the Ferengi are,” Picard stated. Then he saw his officers’ amused expressions. “Um, sorry, Dr. Crusher. Not quite what I meant.” “In anv case,” Troi suggested, trying not to smile, “I recommend we’ask DaiMon Pol to let us see the artifact for ourselves.

To be certain no one else has made off with it.” “And,” La Forge added, “to be sure it’s something more worthwhile than a twisted hunk of old Borg plumbing.” Picard looked around the table. Each of his senior officers had stated his or her view, and he sorted them now to determine the best course of action. He had found that that was generally the one course which did the least to limit future options.

“Very well,” Picard concluded. “We shall ask DaiMon Pol to take us to the location of the artifact so we can examine it prior to making our offer.” “And if he refuses?” Riker asked.

Troi answered. “Then I would tell him that we interpret his refusal as an indication that the artifact is no longer in his possession, or is a fraud, or contains nothing of value. If it is any of those things, the DaiMon will continue to refuse, and we will have lost nothing. If it is a legitimate Borg artifact of scientific interest and the DaiMon does take us to it, then we will have cost him time. And the longer he remains in that stolen ship, the more anxious he will be to sell.” “I agree,” Picard said. “And since we’re not due at Betazed for at least two more weeks, we have some time to pursue this negotiation.” The captain folded his hands on the table before him. “So… now that we know what we’re going to do, all we need is a negotiating stance to get us the best possible deal. Any suggestions?” he asked.

As he expected, everyone spoke at once.

‘-Impossible!” DaiMon Pol exclaimed. “If we tell you where the item is. you will steal it!” Riker leaned close to Picard and whispered, “What he means is. in our position, the Ferengi would steal it.” The DaiMon obviously overheard Riker’s comment and appeared shocked. “It would not be stealing, hew-man. It would simply be exploiting a negotiating advantage. There is no crime in that.” Picard remained seated in his chair at the center of the bridge.