Mutiny on the Enterprise Page 3

  "As you were," Kirk said as he swung into the wardroom. His senior officers had risen from the table to stand at attention. Only the three diplomats remained seated. He took his seat at the head of the table, switched on the recording computer and nodded to Ambassador Zarv.

  "Good," the pig-faced man said in a harsh, grating voice. "You decide to come, after all."

  "I was delayed by ship's affairs, Ambassador. You requested this briefing session. Please get on with it."

  "Briefing session?" Zarv cried. "This is nothing of the sort. This is a demand for more speed! We must reach Ammdon without further shilly-shallying about."

  "What the ambassador is saying, Captain," spoke up Donald Lorritson, "is that the reduction in speed is not acceptable at this time."

  "Not acceptable, Mr. Lorritson? To whom?"

  "To Federation leaders, Kirk!" bellowed Zarv. He rose and pounded pudgy hands against the table.

  Kirk looked up and down the officers sitting at the table and saw varying degrees of disgust, amusement and horror at the outburst. Uhura managed to look the most shocked that anyone would speak to her captain in such a tone. Sulu's expression mingled amusement and disdain. McCoy was about ready to boil over. Something about Zarv irritated the doctor considerably. Even Spock twitched slightly. Kirk would have to ask about the Vulcan's apparent discomfort at the outburst.

  "The Enterprise has not been in dry dock for repairs, Ambassador," he said slowly. "As a result, equipment malfunctions more than it would under optimal conditions."

  "You can't warp into the Ammdon system looking like you're falling apart!"

  "Why not? My orders are to deliver you and your party, nothing more." But Kirk knew there was something more. He remembered Admiral McKenna's comment to that effect.

  "Captain," said Lorritson, clearing his throat. "A strong presence is required for this mission. A strong one by the Enterprise, if you catch my drift."

  "Mr. Lorritson, I do not. The admiral knew this ship was not up to fighting trim when she dispatched us. Are you implying we are required to carry out military action once in the Ammdon system?"

  "No, nothing of the sort, nothing of the sort!" the man protested. "Rather, let us say that the appearance of strength is more important than firepower."

  "You," said Spock, "are using the Enterprise as a lever in your bargaining with Jurnamoria. If we appear to enter on Ammdon's behalf, you feel Jurnamoria will give in to your demands."

  "Crudely put, but adequate enough in this context."

  "That means Spock hit it right on the nose," mumbled McCoy. "They're using us as a clay pigeon in a shooting gallery."

  "Kirk, we need speed. Two weeks to get to Ammdon is out of the question. It must be days. This is a starship. Push it to warp factor eight. Do it now. I order it!"

  "Ambassador Zarv, you are not captain of this ship. And if you were, you'd realize how suicidal that course of action would be. My engineering officer is not present at this meeting because he is busy at work repairing damage already caused by cruising at a speed we consider hardly more than a snail's pace. Mr. Scott is, bar none, the best engineer in Starfleet; he has said our engines will not maintain warp three, much less warp factor eight."

  "Fire him. Put this…this Vulcan in. He knows how to make the engines work." Zarv pointed a stubby finger at Spock. The only response was a slightly elevated eyebrow and the beginning of a dyspeptic expression on Spock's sallow face.

  "While our officers are capable of performing in different positions, I prefer to leave the specialists alone. Scott is a specialist, as is Spock. They are doing quite well where they are."

  Zarv sputtered and stood up so quickly his seat toppled to the deck. He stormed from the wardroom without a backward look. Lorritson and Mek Jokkor glanced at one another. The plant man followed his superior, leaving Lorritson behind.

  "Zarv is not the easiest being in the galaxy to get along with, Captain," explained Lorritson. "But try to understand the scope of this mission."

  "I intended this to be a briefing. Would you do us the honor, Mr. Lorritson?"

  The man took a deep breath, then let it out. He rose, brushed nonexistent lint off his purple Altairan linen jacket, squared his shoulders and settled into an orator's stance.

  Kirk watched in fascination as Lorritson turned from a harried underling into someone dynamic, powerful, dominant.

  "The Romulan Empire borders on the systems of Ammdon and Jurnamoria. They have been making minor incursions into Federation space for many months. Nothing serious, not until the Scarborough incident. This convinced the Federation leaders that the Romulans had finally decided to make their bid for several planets here and here and here." Lorritson turned on the computer's holo display showing the Orion Arm. The planets he pointed out began to flash for emphasis.

  "This gives them a wedge through our occupied area. We stand to lose much in the way of mineral deposits, not to mention—immediately—a dozen inhabited planets."

  "The plan appears logical," Spock said. "The Romulans gain valuable area with minor risk to them. This region is too distant for the Federation to patrol adequately."

  "Correct, Mr. Spock," agreed Lorritson. "The Federation cannot do it, but Ammdon and Jurnamoria together can. While the two planets are more primitive than most in the Federation, they have the advantage of being strategically located."

  "With Federation aid, they can deter the Romulans. Is that it?" asked McCoy. "You get peace between Ammdon and Jurnamoria; then the Federation supplies both with weapons of war."

  "Something like that, Doctor. While we never like to see war, this particular one might prove disastrous for the Federation for many decades to come. You can begin to understand some of the frustration Ambassador Zarv now feels at our delay."

  Kirk studied the hologram and let his soldier's mind work on the details. He saw nothing amiss with what Lorritson had outlined. If the Romulan Empire succeeded in establishing a beachhead in the Orion Arm where the diplomat said, fighting would be long and bloody. Better to prevent the small war between two planets than allow the greater one between entire civilizations.

  "I see Zarv's reason for impatience, but I made no idle comment about the Enterprise's condition. We can run at warp one without difficulty. Warp two poses problems. Warp three is out of the question until we orbit a planet with sufficient shielding and equipment to perform a major overhaul."

  "Is there no way at all to squeeze just a little more speed from your starship, Captain?" This was the closest Lorritson had come to pleading.

  "I'm afraid not. The laws of physics are inviolable. We shall get you to Ammdon as soon as possible. I'm sure it won't be fast enough for any of our tastes." Kirk made a wry face when he heard Zarv's bellowing out in the corridor.

  "Do your best, Captain. The ambassador, Mek Jokkor and I must put the final touches on our presentation."

  Lorritson folded a few papers in front of him and quickly left.

  Spock indicated the desire to speak. Kirk motioned for him to begin.

  "The diplomats have used the ship's computer for extensive games-theory plays to examine all possible outcomes. While I had no intention of spying, my certification of the computer required certain tests which divulged information."

  "So you were spying, Spock. Go on. Give us the juice. What did you find?" McCoy leaned forward, eager for the gossip.

  "I resent your implications, Doctor." Spock stared straight ahead as he reported, "If Mek Jokkor's projections about food levels are accurate—and I have no way of checking the basic assumptions—the diplomatic team will succeed in their mission. In spite of personal friction I've witnessed with crew members, they are admirably suited for this delicate mission."

  "Thank you, Mr. Spock." Kirk looked around the table. "If there are no other comments, this briefing is adjourned." He didn't like the lackluster way his officers left the room, almost as if they'd been handed their death sentences.

  "Captain Kirk, may I have a word with you
? In private?"

  Kirk turned to see Lorelei whirl around the corner of the corridor, a puff of mist floating on the wind. As her chocolate eyes met his, he felt his heartbeat quicken. Something about the way she looked at him affected him like a first love, a forbidden romance, a stolen kiss.

  "Certainly. What is it you need? Has the crew been treating you well?"

  "Very well, Captain—James." The way she said his name sounded like a lover's whisper. Kirk shook himself to break the image forming in his mind. It was pleasurable but only a fantasy.

  "My quarters are nearby. Please join me for a drink."

  "I do not like your alcohol, but your coffee stimulates me."

  Once in his quarters, Kirk sat behind his desk, feeling like a defender in a fortress. For once he was glad the massive wooden surface separated him from the pretty woman. He watched Lorelei over the rim of his glass, trying to decide if she was really pretty or not. She had even features, translucent skin with a faint nut tinge to it, soft brunette hair and those wide-set brown eyes that pulled him in every time he looked at her.

  Pretty, no, he decided. Comely, perhaps. Attractive. Definitely attractive.

  "Captain, I have listened to your crew, talked with some of them. I am worried about the safety of the ship."

  "The ship? You mean the accident in the engine room? Put it out of your mind. It was unfortunate, but the technician is recovering nicely. Our medical facilities are excellent."

  "I do not mean the injury, although that is serious. I refer to the danger you place the Enterprise in by journeying to the Ammdon system."

  "What do you know of that?"

  "The ship's computer records are most complete, and I am not without some native reasoning ability."

  He frowned at the small woman. "I'm sorry we can't take you back to Hyla immediately, but our mission is a peaceful one. We go to prevent war in the Ammdon system, not cause one, as you implied."

  "Your presence will initiate the war. The rulers of Ammdon will use your presence to launch a preemptive strike against Jurnamoria."

  "For someone who didn't even know the Federation existed until we rescued you, you've got a lot of notions about how things work."

  "I know the nature of reasoning beings. We are all violent, Captain. Violence has allowed us to survive our primitive beginnings. But no longer do we need to kill one another. Other, more peaceful challenges exist for us. You cannot enter the Ammdon system without endangering the welfare of your Enterprise."

  Kirk felt his hands begin to shake slightly. He carefully placed his glass on the desk in front of him.

  "I must trust my superiors and their assignment of Zarv and the others to this peace talk. They are capable."

  "Ammdon uses you."

  "Explain." Kirk had meant to snap out the word, a command. He found himself hesitating, almost not wanting to hear Lorelei's explanation, because he knew it would go against all he believed.

  "Ammdon and the Federation have a mutual defense treaty. The Federation and Jurnamoria do not. In any war, Ammdon expects Federation backing."

  "How do you know of this treaty?"

  "It is recorded in your computer."

  He swallowed hard as he punched up the information. The digest of the treaty confirmed what Lorelei had said.

  "If you enter the system, this will give Ammdon the opportunity to attack. You will start the war, not prevent it."

  Kirk felt himself adrift in a sea of conflicting emotions. Lorelei spoke persuasively, logically. Yet Zarv and Lorritson and Mek Jokkor were trained professionals. They did not want war; they wanted only peace. They'd do nothing to jeopardize the Federation's position in the Orion Arm. The constant threat of the Romulans was too real.

  "I—" he began.

  "James," Lorelei said, her voice low, a vibrancy about it that reached into his soul and tugged. "You endanger your ship, your crew and the lives of people on two planets. Do not carry through with your orders. Return to Starbase One."

  "Lorelei, I can't," he managed to say. She lowered her head, nodded, then left his quarters. He felt as if he'd just accidentally set his cat on fire.

  The burden of command weighed heavily on James T. Kirk as he sat in his quarters, staring at a blank wall and mulling over what both Lorritson and Lorelei had said.

  War? Or peace? Both were within his power to cause or avoid. One wrong decision—one right decision. Whom was he to believe?

  Chapter Three

  Captain's Log, Supplemental

  The Speaker of Hyla, Lorelei, troubles me strangely. I find myself increasingly convinced by her arguments to abort the peace mission to Ammdon and Jurnamoria and return to Starbase One. The condition of the Enterprise continues to deteriorate. Equipment malfunctions are the least of our problems. My greatest concern is the crew upset and growing disaffection. It is almost as if the crew is on the brink of disobedience, but that is absurd. Such a thing cannot happen on this ship. It will not.

  "Explain more fully, Mr. Spock." James Kirk watched as his science officer lifted one thin eyebrow, giving him a slightly perplexed—or offended—aspect.

  "My report was clear enough, Captain. Dr. McCoy and Mek Jokkor disrupted the wardroom with their argument. The crew observing this imbroglio became most agitated and many failed to report to their duty stations afterward."

  Kirk frowned. None of this made the least sense to him, but it would. Soon. He'd get to the bottom of this if it was the last thing he did.

  "Mek Jokkor cannot speak. How did McCoy manage to have an argument with a plant creature lacking vocal cords?"

  Spock peered down his nose at his superior. "The computer console is quite capable of accepting an alien's input and translating it into voice readout even Dr. McCoy can understand."

  "So not only McCoy but all the crew in the wardroom heard Mek Jokkor's outburst. Punch it up on the computer. I want a replay." Spock silently obeyed. Kirk locked his fingers behind his back and rocked to and fro as he worked over the problems in his mind. The friction between his staff and that of Ambassador Zarv had been limited to minor squabbles prior to this. He'd have to take McCoy to task for upsetting the delicate balance of protocol that had been established.

  ". . . you are wrong, animal human," came the computer-simulated voice of the alien. "This mission is vital to the Federation's security. A peaceful Ammdon-Jurnamoria system yields stability, both in human terms and against the aggressive Romulans."

  "Our presence will cause the war, I tell you," came McCoy's aggrieved voice. "Ammdon will use the Enterprise as a tool of war, not of peace. They're going to make damn fools of us over this dispute; they're making fools of the entire Federation."

  "But—" Kirk started, then bit off his sentence.

  "Yes, Captain?" Spock looked at him squarely.

  "Nothing. It's just that I have heard similar sentiments recently. McCoy does not appear to be alone in his thinking. Or perhaps I'm wrong. Maybe the wheel has been reinvented."

  "I do not understand."

  "Nothing, Spock. Continue with the recording." Kirk only half-listened to the argument carried on via computer between his ship's doctor and the ambassador's aide and agricultural expert. The words changed slightly with McCoy interpreting them, but, on the whole, the arguments carried precisely the same content as those he'd heard so recently from Lorelei.

  Lorelei.

  Kirk sighed, thinking of the woman, her allure, the way he had felt when he had rejected her pleas to turn back to Starbase One. Cold fingers clamped about his heart, then squeezed slowly until Kirk felt as if he'd start to gasp. He didn't know if this physical reaction to the woman bothered him as much as his mounting anger at McCoy, at Mek Jokkor, at Zarv, at all the others.

  "What's wrong with the Enterprise?" he demanded, slamming a fist down against the communications console. Uhura looked up, startled. Sulu and Chekov both peered over their shoulders from their posts. Others on the bridge cast sidelong glances at their captain before returning to their
duties.

  "Captain, the ship is in need of specific repairs, but other than that, nothing is wrong with it."

  "Dammit, Spock, don't be so literal. I mean the crew. Why is McCoy arguing with Mek Jokkor? He has no place to. Where'd he get the idea that the Federation is being used by Ammdon?"

  "It seems a plausible maneuver on the part of a developing world. Our interests range farther than theirs, and they see the chance for specific gain while we pursue a more general position."

  "In other words, you're agreeing with Lor—" Kirk stopped, swallowed, then continued. "You're agreeing with McCoy that Ammdon is playing us for the fool, that the Enterprise will be dragged into this war on their side against Jurnamoria."

  "It is conceivable, but one must take into account the experience and superior knowledge of the negotiating team sent by the Federation Council. Zarv's record, for all his personal truculence, is impeccable. He is no one's fool—or tool."

  "Neither is Lorritson. Or, I suspect, Mek Jokkor."

  "Quite correct, Captain."

  This soothed some of the emotional storm raging within, but anger remained. "McCoy. Has he spoken with Lorelei recently? Within the past hour or two?"

  "Unknown, Captain. Why not ask the doctor?" Spock's focus shifted to a point behind his commander. Kirk turned to see McCoy striding onto the bridge, a grim expression set on his craggy face.

  "Jim, I want to protest about that refugee from a succotash."

  "Mek Jokkor?"

  "Yeah, the plant fellow. He insulted me. Made me angry. I don't like that."

  "I'm sure you don't." Kirk started to say he'd listened to the transcript of the argument, then decided to take a different tack. If the doctor knew he'd been spied upon, he'd become totally unreasonable and nothing would be resolved. For whatever reason, Kirk sensed that this entire matter reached far beyond simple disagreement between medical doctor and diplomatic aide.

  "He wanted to continue on this snipe hunt, and I think we ought to turn around and go home. The crew needs rest. The ship is falling apart. As a medical opinion, absolutely official, mind you, it is my recommendation to return to base."