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Authors: Judith Reeves-Stevens

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Kirk's eyes flashed at the word. “Not on my ship they don't. Mr. Chekov, why weren't we prepared for their orbit change?”

“This was not one of their regular changes, Keptin. According to the pattern they were following until now, they should not have changed orbit for another two hours.”

“Did they detect Mr. Scott's activity?”

“No indication of that, sir. The wessel simply changed orbit…at random.”

“And experienced a momentum lag because of our tractor beam attachment,” Kirk said in disgust. “Well, Mr. Wilforth, what's the FCO's procedure on this type of situation?”

Wilforth looked uncomfortable. “Unofficially, we hope they didn't see us.”

“And if they did see us?”

“Then we hope they didn't record an image of us.”

“And if they did record an image?”

Wilforth shrugged. “Between 1955 and 2018 on Earth, there were at least eighteen legitimate, two-dimensional photographs taken of Vulcan probe ships. They were, without exception, dismissed as frauds and hoaxes.” Wilforth shrugged again. “The Talin are as skeptical as humans were back then, Captain. A single image of the
Enterprise,
even in the unlikely event that it is accepted as genuine, is not the same as regular observation of Wraith shuttles. It will not compromise the FCO.”

“Pardon me for being skeptical as well, Mr. Wilforth,” Kirk said, “but a single image of the
Enterprise
would reveal a great deal about the structural engineering required for warp balance. And that's advanced technology.”

Then Kirk felt Richter's hand patting his arm. “Don't worry about it, Captain. Most technology is developed according to a strict, almost evolutionary pattern. If the Talin survive their present political situation, they'll be in contact with us long before they get around to figuring out efficient warp configurations. Most contacted races end up learning that type of thing during exchange programs at Starfleet Academy.”

Kirk was uncomfortable with a mistake being dismissed so lightly, no matter how inadvertently it had been made. He was especially surprised by Richter's calm acceptance of the event. “Mr. Chekov, what's the Talin vessel's status now?”

“Settled in its new orbit, Keptin. All systems back to normal operation.”

“See?” Wilforth said.

Kirk turned back to Scott, already busy replacing the science station's controls with new modules from the bridge storage compartments. “Ready to go after that last warhead, Scotty?”

“I think I might have already got it, sir. When I get the sensors back on line, I'll be able to confirm its status.” Scott took his circuitplaser away from the open control panel for a moment. “Is there something wrong, Captain?”

“A few too many coincidences, Mr. Scott.” Kirk swung back to Wilforth. “That Talin ship approached this moon just as we were arriving. It changed orbit just as our tractor beam was locked on to it. And it's looking for the FCO outpost after only one image of a single Wraith shuttle was recorded.”

Wilforth looked around the bridge but saw that Kirk was speaking only to him. “What…what are you suggesting?”

“I'm not sure,” Kirk said threateningly. “What
am
I suggesting, Spock?”

“That the Talin are in possession of more information than the FCO would have us believe, through means which the FCO has not revealed to us.”

“Thank you, Mr. Spock,” Kirk said.

“This is outrageous,” Wilforth stammered.

“Isn't it,” Kirk answered.

“First of all, Captain Kirk,” Wilforth said, rallying, “both the
Enterprise
and the Talin vessel arrived at this moon for the same reason—because of the escalating tensions on Talin IV. Why is it so hard to accept that you both arrived at the same time while responding to the same conditions? Second, the Talin vessel is searching for a hostile base belonging to the other side—not an alien outpost. Third, since the Talin ship is on a military mission, why is it difficult to believe that it might engage in sudden maneuvers to confuse any hostile vessels that might be in pursuit? I mean, really.”

Kirk pursed his lips. “Spock?”

“Each statement is logical, Captain, though for them all to be true requires a fragile chain of coincidence. Also, there is as yet no explanation for why the outpost's emergency broadcasts to the
Enterprise
were not received. Both Lieutenant Uhura and Communications Manager Cardinali were unable to find any reason for equipment malfunction either here or at the outpost.”

Kirk watched the FCO director carefully.
“Could
there be another reason for the communications failure, Mr. Wilforth? Other than equipment malfunction?”

The director's face turned red with a pattern of roughly hexagonal shapes—a peculiarity of the Centauran circulation system. “Are you…are you daring to imply that the FCO has compromised its mission here?”

“As I said, Mr. Wilforth. There appear to be too many odd occurrences here. Should I explain them away as a ‘fragile chain of coincidence,' or should I look for a single explanation?”

“Which would be…?” Wilforth said, shaking with anger.

“That the Talin know that you are here and they're coming looking for your outpost—not another side in their political conflict, but for an alien base on their moon.”

“Captain Kirk, really,” Carole Mallett interrupted, “that would be impossible. Other than possibly observing the Wraiths, the Talin know nothing about us or our operations here.”

Cardinali joined her. “And our communication intercepts have revealed no indication that the Talin leaders seriously consider the existence of alien life-forms. Captain Kirk, what we're seeing played out on this planet is a classic case of war jitters—lunar mission and all.”

Kirk assessed Cardinali and Mallett carefully. They seemed sincere. But Wilforth was too hard to read. Was he really incensed at what Kirk was implying, or was he terrified that some secret was about to be exposed? Kirk decided it was time to test Richter, who had been uncharacteristically quiet for too long.

“Well, Doctor? Haven't you anything to add to the FCO's defense?”

Richter snorted. “The whole FCO's a naive bunch of
tarfel
-licking
rostonagons.
Should have done away with the whole thing years ago. The Prime Directive's an impossible piece of work so why even bother to try to uphold it?” He shook his head. “But Wilforth's telling you the truth. He's not smart enough to lie about anything like this.”

The last clear spaces on Wilforth's face filled in bright red. “Alonzo! How could—”

“When you're my age, Zalan, it's easy. The last thing you feel like doing is wasting time with social niceties. Now shut up.” Richter tapped his cane against the back of Chekov's chair. “So can you get that ship back up on the screen or what?”

Chekov looked to Kirk for confirmation, got it, and the Talin vessel reappeared on the screen. This time it was a view from the front.

“Are you looking for something in particular, Dr. Richter?” Kirk asked. For the moment he was satisfied that if anything improper was going on within the FCO outpost, its director, at least, was unaware of it. Richter, though, was another matter. His assessment of the Prime Directive as not being worth upholding was disturbing. Clearly, his loyalties were not firmly entrenched with Starfleet.

“Here's another mystery for you,” Richter said, then coughed loudly. Sulu sat forward uncomfortably, apparently in the man's line of fire. “Take a good look at that ship, Carole. See how it's different from the others they've sent here?”

Mallett studied the screen carefully. “It's assembled from standard components, Dr. Richter. The only difference I see is that it has two lunar-landing supply spheres instead of the usual one. I presume that means the warheads are in the second sphere.”

“Aye,” Scott said, back at work on the repaired science controls. “That's exactly where they are.”

“I don't mean the engineering,” Richter snapped. “Look at it! Look at it! Where are its colors? Where are its markings?”

Cardinali shrugged. “Why does it need them? It's clearly a ship from the Brown nation. The Greens use a completely different cylindrical module design.”

“Pah! If it's on a war mission, it should have the Browns' battle colors on its side,” Richter insisted. “It should have a registration code on the main sphere, too. But it's blank. The whole
nyeem
thing.”

“It's carrying six fusion warheads,” Kirk said. “Trust me. It's on a war mission. Scotty, how's the second warhead coming?”

“It's disarmed, Captain, I got it the first time.” He leaned back to stretch his back after hunching over the scope. “How d'ye manage that all day, Mr. Spock?”

“I have never done it for an entire day,” Spock answered. “Dr. Richter, if the Talin lunar mission was rushed because of the so-called war jitters on the planet, it would be logical to assume that certain nonessential elements were left out of the mission's preparations, including the painting on of decorative nomenclature and colors.”

Richter scratched at his cheek. “Colors are very important to these creatures, Mr. Spock. But I'll accept what you say as a theory. For the moment. Though I think you might be wrong.”

“Do you have another explanation?” Kirk asked.

Richter shook his head. “Colors are so important to them that it's hard to imagine anything urgent enough to make them embark on a military mission without those colors.”

“Are you suggesting that their mission is other than military?” Spock asked.

“As the captain said, Mr. Spock, they're carrying fusion warheads. That's not your typical first contact methodology in this part of the galaxy.” The old scientist began to cough again.

Kirk checked the chronometer mounted between Chekov and Sulu. The
Enterprise
would be coming out of the farside protection of the moon in a few minutes. “Mr. Scott, can you guarantee that those warheads no longer threaten the FCO outpost?”

“Aye, sir. They'll hit like a ton of bricks, but only a ton of bricks. The outpost's structure could withstand all six of them impacting at once. No fear of detonation, though the fissionables will require some cleaning up. Plutonium it is, not too pure, but nothing a good environmental suit can't keep out.”

“Good work, Scotty,” Kirk said. “Mr. Sulu, take us to Talin IV, sensor satellite insertion orbit.”

For the next few minutes, the bridge was the focus of intense activity. Scott left for the hangar bay with Cardinali and Mallett to prepare for satellite deployment. Chekov took up his position at the defense subsystems monitor to bring the
Enterprise'
s antidetection countermeasures on line. Ensign Fisher took over navigation. Three sensor technicians tested the repairs to Spock's science console. Spock set up Wilforth and Richter at the engineering subsystems monitor where they could follow the satellite deployment, and Uhura established a fully automatic communications scanning network to track all Talin military channels for any reference to a sighting of an unidentified space vehicle. Kirk sat quietly in the midst of the hurried preparations, the calm at the eye of the storm.

When Talin's surface filled the entire screen, Spock came to stand at Kirk's side. “All systems and personnel are ready, sir.”

Kirk nodded. He knew. On the
Enterprise,
the systems and personnel were always ready. Any errors or mistakes belonged only to one person.

Spock dropped his voice, not quite to a whisper, but to something which only Kirk could hear. “If I may, you seem preoccupied.”

Kirk glanced at his science officer. He hadn't spoken as a member of the crew. “Just reviewing my options.”

“You expect complications?”

“Spock, we had complications dealing with a primitive spaceship that had only two crew members. And now we're facing an entire planet. Complications isn't the word for what I'm expecting.”

“You have prepared for every foreseeable eventuality,” Spock said.

“It's the unforeseeable ones I'm worried about.”

“It is not logical to worry about that which you cannot know. Rather, you should have faith in your ability to respond to the unexpected, as you have demonstrated so ably in the past.”

Kirk knew that Spock was making a touching attempt to give a pep talk to his captain, but as usual, the science officer was far too serious in his delivery of it. “Faith, Spock? Doesn't that smack of…emotions?”

Spock's face became completely blank, a reaction which Kirk had long since recognized as the half-human, half-Vulcan's response to minor embarrassment.

“Perhaps I have used a colloquialism where it was not necessary. I was simply trying to suggest that you have strong reason to have confidence in your skills as you have used them in the past.” Spock glanced away for a moment. “I was speaking as a friend, not as a semanticist.”

BOOK: Worlds in Collision
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