Алан Дин Фостер - The Unsettling Stars

This time Kirk didn’t hesitate. “Uhura, hail the leading Dre’kalak vessel.”

She complied. To those on the bridge, it seemed to take forever before the image of the alien commander reappeared on the main viewer. Kirk framed his communiqué carefully even as he wondered if the inadequate translation algorithms Uhura was employing would convey his mood and intent correctly and with sufficient force.

“Podleader Ul-tond! It is not the policy of the United Federation of Planets to interfere in disputes between nonallied species.”

“We of the Circle are glad to hear that,” the Dre’kalak replied.

“However,” Kirk continued as Spock winced ever so slightly, “it is the policy of the Federation to step in when its assistance is requested by those in clearly identifiable distress. The fact that your people are apparently the source of that distress creates what I must politely refer to as an awkward set of circumstances.”

“I understand, though I do not sympathize with your rea soning, Captain Kirk.” No doubt the Dre’kalak commander’s viscous upper body allowed for a considerable range of expression, but if so, Kirk remained ignorant of what the alien movement signified. “I restate the position of the Circle: This not your fight. Remain neutral, and all will be well.” The transmission cut off again.

Kirk turned. “Spock? Opinion?” The attention of everyone on the bridge shifted in the direction of the science officer.

For one of the few times in their admittedly brief time together, Spock appeared to hesitate. Though not for long.

“You have stated the formal Federation position clearly and concisely, Captain, to which stance I have nothing to add.”

“Spock…,” an anxious McCoy began.

“However,” the science officer continued, drawing a hint of a smile from his commanding officer, “as a member of a refugee race, I find that I am sufficiently conflicted to the point where I cannot say what I might do if our present positions were reversed.”

Don’t you wish, Kirk said, but only to himself. “Mister Sulu, Mister Chekov, stay sharp and be ready for anything. We want these Dre’kalak to see and understand that we’re making preparations for more than just talk.”

“Aye, Captain.” Sulu’s hands darted over his instrumentation as the Enterprise crew completed the shift to battle stations.

“Show of force without showing any force,” said Chekov. “Little is risked with the possibility of much being gained. A knight’s move.”

“Forward or sideways?” Sulu commented. “A hundred years before the establishment of the Shogunate, there was a battle three hundred clicks south of Edo that—”

“Please, no samurai stories now, Hikaru. Or I’ll have to tell you how my great-great-great-great-grandfather Boris ended up as a model for one of the crowd in Repin’s Reply of the Zaporozhian Cossacks. ”

“Not that again.” Sulu’s attention was immediately diverted by other, more immediate concerns. “Captain, one of the Dre’kalak vessels is disengaging from the attack and heading for the Enterprise .”

“A hostile gesture.” McCoy’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Jim, we could open fire. Clearly you’d be in the right.”

This time Kirk didn’t look back at his friend. “Bones, don’t you have work to do in sickbay? If we’re going into a fight, there are liable to be casualties.”

“Yes, you’re right, Jim.” Whirling, McCoy exited the bridge.

After tracking the doctor’s departure, Uhura’s attention shifted to Spock seated ready and ramrod straight at his station. She peered harder. Was that a hint of satisfaction on his face—or just a shift in the light? Her own instrumentation commanded her attention and she turned back to her console.

“The Dre’kalak are hailing us, Captain.”

“Mister Sulu, Mister Chekov, be ready. Put them on, Lieutenant—after our detectable power-up they may still want to talk.”

“They don’t strike me as a particularly conversational species,” Sulu muttered. At the captain’s command, the Enterprise was ready to unleash destruction. The helmsman was tense but not nervous. Alongside him, the same resolve could be seen writ plain on Chekov’s face.

The ship’s shakedown cruise had morphed—they were being tested once again.

The alien’s tone was as bellicose as before. But this time, there was something previously unheard underlying Ul-tond’s anger. Kirk couldn’t put his finger on it and Uhura’s translation program offered no hint.

“You appear to have prepared your ship for battle.” The podleader framed his observation as a threat.

Kirk’s expression remained neutral as he replied, “I compliment you on the sensitivity of your sensors.”

“You are unaware of the complexity of circumstances you have encountered,” Ul-tond continued. “Yet you are prepared to fight on behalf of those of whom you know nothing. You are ignorant of the danger posed by Perenoreans!”

Spock could not contain himself. Or more likely, chose not to. Time and additional knowledge had brought a shift in his hitherto cautious thinking. “What danger does a single off-course and low-on-fuel ship full of colonists, including reproductive females and young offspring, pose to the Dre’kalak? Or for that matter, to anyone else?”

Plainly more comfortable with combat than conversation, Ul-tond struggled to formulate a reply. As he did so, a thin line of glistening white fluid dribbled from the lowest corner of his wide mouth. A consistent physiological phenomenon, Spock wondered, or the Dre’kalak equivalent of a human sputtering?

“You do not understand! Perenoreans are dangerous species, fatally dangerous! Not knowing them, you cannot envision threat that they represent! Is beyond your imagining!”

Kirk allowed himself a small comfortable smile. “Try me.”

“Are the Perenoreans an inherently hostile species?” Spock inquired of the Dre’kalak commander.

“No, but…”

Having already interrupted his captain, the science officer barreled forward. “Are they a people that has demonstrated a proclivity for war? For attacking others without provocation?”

“No.” Ul-tond was beside himself. Almost literally, Kirk thought as he observed the alien commander’s highly fluid physical contortions. “The danger they present is— You do not understand!”

“Can you enlighten us, then?” Kirk’s calm tone was backed by an inviting grin. “Why don’t we all stand down? Get together somewhere that’s mutually agreeable. If the Dre’kalak have some long-standing grievance against the Perenoreans, we offer our services as mediators. We might be able to resolve the differences between you without any further hostilities.”

Having made his offer, Kirk glanced toward the science station. Why not? Spock did not smile back, of course, but by way of response he did appear to nod ever so slightly.

As carefully and courteously as Kirk had framed the suggestion, it was just as swiftly rejected.

“You still do not understand, Captain Kirk of the Federation! You cannot negotiate with Perenoreans. You cannot talk to them. Just talking with them can destroy you. You cannot ‘resolve differences between’ with only words. They must be obliterated!”

“Agreeable species, aren’t they?” Chekov’s expression was grim. Sulu did not respond. He suspected what was coming next.

And he was right.

The Dre’kalak commander’s ship opened fire with every weapon in its arsenal. Waves of energy accompanied by ominous projectiles were dispatched simultaneously on an intercept course toward the Enterprise .