A contest of principles, p.11
A Contest of Principles, page 11
“Not so sure about that,” Colc said, making a face. “You probably ought to leave that kind of sleuthing to me.”
“I disagree.” Spock was growing weary of being asked to take a back seat in the search for McCoy. Whether the United Bracon Front was involved in McCoy’s kidnapping was a question that required a conclusive answer, one way or another, and Spock was not inclined to delegate that vital task to a relative stranger. “As a reporter, you must surely appreciate the value of a primary source over secondhand accounts. I need to make my own inquiries, in person.”
Colc scrutinized Spock through the steam. Perspiration rendered his features as slick as a Ba’ul emerging from its pool.
“In other words, you’re not one hundred percent sure you can trust me.”
“I lack sufficient data to adequately judge your credibility,” Spock admitted. “No offense.”
“Smart man,” Colc said, shrugging. “Here on Braco, everyone has an ulterior motive. You don’t want to take anything—or anyone—for granted.”
“I will keep that in mind,” Spock said. “Can you broker a meeting?”
Colc ran a hand through his damp yellow hair, which was now plastered to his scalp. “Even if I could set something up, how do you expect to slip past Wibb’s troopers? ’Cause I’m pretty sure nobody connected to UBF is going to be willing to walk into the belly of the beast here, no matter how toasty this sauna is.”
“Leave that to me,” Spock said. “Can you arrange it?”
“Maybe,” Colc said, “but it’s going to take a whole lot of persuasion on my part, and I’m expecting the full scoop afterward. Anything you learn, you share with me, deal?”
“Naturally,” Spock said. “As you said, I would not want you to get your facts wrong.”
Worry showed on Colc’s sweaty face.
“You realize I can’t guarantee your safety,” he said. “If V’sta and her crew did grab your friend, they might be inclined to snatch you too… especially if you walk right into their clutches.”
Spock acknowledged the risk. He calculated, however, that his odds of rescuing McCoy were significantly higher by embarking on a deliberate course of action than they would be if he merely waited for Chief Inspector Wibb to complete his investigation. Risk, as Captain Kirk had once sagely observed, came with their mission.
“Your warning is duly noted,” he told Colc. “Rest assured that I intend to take all reasonable precautions.”
“I just hope that’s enough,” the reporter said. “For your sake.”
Ten
Vok
“Well, this complicates matters,” Dare said.
Kirk had been relieved to find her sitting up in a biobed in sickbay, looking better than you might expect for someone who had taken a spear to the back. A diagnostic monitor above the bed charted her vital signs, which appeared to be on the upswing. She was still notably paler than usual and winced when she moved too much or too quickly, but Kirk understood that she was lucky to be alive. According to M’Benga, if the javelin had lodged a few centimeters deeper or in the wrong direction, they would be holding a funeral service, not a bedside briefing.
“That’s putting it mildly,” Kirk agreed.
He and Tanaka had gathered around Dare’s bed to confer with her in the wake of Lom’s startling revelation. A nurse hovered nearby, going about her business. Sickbay felt strangely abandoned with neither McCoy nor Chapel present, but Kirk couldn’t think about that now. The aftermath of the near assassination demanded his attention.
“I’ve been in touch with my contacts planetside,” Tanaka said. “Even without any actual evidence yet, plenty of people are already accusing Gogg or his associates of being behind the attempt on Doctor Ceff’s life, although he’s emphatically denying it. Meanwhile, others are saying the incident is a false-flag operation, cooked up by Ceff to discredit General Gogg, and that’s just one of myriad conspiracy theories.” Tanaka sighed. “On the bright side, Commissioner, you’re being acclaimed as a hero… at least by most people.”
“Glad to hear it,” Dare said wryly, “although taking a spear was not exactly part of my job description.”
“Accept the praise,” Kirk said. “You deserve it.”
“If you say so.” She leaned back against her pillow. “In any event, thanks again for the emergency beam-up. Not that I don’t trust the doctors and nurses down on Vok, but there’s nothing like Federation medicine when your life depends on it.”
“Happy to oblige,” Kirk said. He wished McCoy were on hand to add his own two cents.
“So what are we going to do about that recording Lom turned over?” Tanaka asked, getting back to the business at hand. “Any chance we can keep it—and him—under wraps until after the election?”
Dare shook her head, then grimaced as though the movement pained her.
“Withhold incriminating evidence about a major candidate? Not a good idea. We’d be compromising our neutrality in a big way, and possibly calling the result of the election into question if and when the truth got out.”
Kirk agreed. “We can’t appear to be part of a cover-up, not where an attempted assassination is concerned.”
“I suppose,” Tanaka said, “although accusing the General is going to be seen by some as the Federation interfering on Ceff’s behalf.” He lowered his voice so as not to be overheard. “Granted, her winning the election wouldn’t be such a bad thing in the long run.”
“There’s no way around it,” Dare said. “We have crucial evidence and need to turn it over to the civilian authorities on Vok, although we should give both campaigns a heads-up before the recording is made public, just so neither faction feels blindsided.” She looked at Kirk. “How many people know about the recording so far?”
Kirk had anticipated her query. “I’m keeping the information on a need-to-know basis for now, and you can count on my crew to be discreet when it comes to any confidential details of our investigation, but we can’t keep Lom locked up on the Enterprise indefinitely or compel him to keep his mouth shut. The authorities are already demanding that he be extradited back to the surface. I’m pushing things holding him in our brig as is.”
Starfleet had no jurisdiction here. Even though both he and Dare had been injured, Lom was a citizen of Vok and the attack had taken place on his planet. This was a matter of Vokite justice.
“Lom’s testimony is damning enough,” Dare observed, “but that recording speaks for itself.”
“Does it?” Kirk asked. “I’m not entirely ready to take it at face value just yet. I want my people to subject that recording to a full forensic analysis, just to make certain that it hasn’t been faked or doctored somehow.”
“You think that’s possible?” Dare asked.
Kirk recalled nearly being court-martialed over a faked video replay in the Enterprise’s memory banks. “Anything is possible. We can’t afford to jump to conclusions with a planet’s future in the balance.”
“I can assist your people in examining the footage,” Tanaka said.
Kirk appreciated the offer. With Spock away, he could use all the extra brain power he could get. “Thank you, Mister Tanaka.”
“In the meantime, however,” Dare said, “we can’t count on that recording being invalidated. We need to get ahead of this if it’s not already too late. Can Lieutenant Uhura patch me into Vok’s communications network? I need to set up meetings with both Gogg and Ceff.”
She sat up and reached for the bedside computer terminal, only to suddenly grow faint. Her eyelids drooped and her head rolled unsteadily atop her neck as she sagged back against her pillow. The diagnostic monitor charted a precipitous drop in her pulse and blood pressure, signaling Nurse Alongi to scurry over to check on her patient. Kirk looked on anxiously, but he was reassured to see that the nurse didn’t appear too alarmed. Dare just needed a moment or two to regain her strength.
“Whoa,” she said weakly, the blood beginning to return to her face. “If you don’t mind, Captain, could you kindly ask your helmsman to stop spinning the ship around?”
“Only if you don’t insist on pushing yourself too hard too fast,” Kirk said. “You nearly died. You’re allowed time to recuperate.”
“But the election,” she protested. “I need to speak with both sides, preferably in person.”
“Belay that,” Kirk said. “You need to rest. Leave the candidates to me.”
Eleven
Ozalor
“You did what?” the sovereign demanded. “Do my ears deceive me?”
His Excellency, Salokonos, Yovode of Ozalor, was holding audience in his private chambers, his throne room having been deemed too public a venue for so delicate a matter. Nevertheless, he presided over the scene from a most impressive silk-lined chair that rested upon a raised platform overlooking the inner sanctum. His was the only chair in the room, so that the others were required to stand in his presence. At that moment, those in attendance consisted of Vumri, Rayob, Jemo, and McCoy, the last of whom scratched irritably at the fake beard glued to his face. Palace guards were posted along the perimeter of the chamber to discourage any bad behavior. A routine weapons scan had already turned up Rayob’s concealed phaser, which he’d surrendered without protest. Sound-absorbing baffles on the walls and ceiling protected the privacy of whatever discussions transpired within the chamber.
“I’m afraid not, sire,” Rayob replied. “I take full responsibility.”
The truth had finally come to light. Unwilling to flat-out lie to his ruler, Rayob had confessed to spiriting McCoy away from Braco in hopes of curing the Heir to the throne. Lossu Vumri, who had instigated this audience, looked on smugly, not even bothering to conceal her satisfaction at seeing her rival in hot water. For himself, McCoy was relieved that, if nothing else, he no longer needed to worry about who knew what or to debate whom to tell about his abduction. Perhaps now something could be done about his involuntary stay on the planet. On Ozalor, he gathered, the Yovode was the final court of appeal.
And right now Salokonos wasn’t happy.
“What were you thinking, Rayob? Kidnapping a Starfleet officer, and without even asking my permission?”
Salokonos was a stocky, barrel-chested monarch with a dense brown beard that would make a Klingon envious. Bushy eyebrows resembled those of his daughter, who was presently recuperating back in her chambers, presumably under the watchful eye of the ever-attentive Bilis. Like her, he wore a gleaming quartz wristband, but in his case, there were several rings stacked one atop another, of chalcedony, jasper, carnelian, agate, and onyx, so that practically his entire forearm was girded by the bands, which McCoy surmised to have some ceremonial significance. Beyond that, the Yovode’s attire was surprisingly plain and practical, albeit of evident quality and condition. An off-white linen tunic and trousers, along with a sturdy pair of boots, covered his regal corpus. Apparently, he preferred comfort to finery outside the public eye. Considerably darker was his expression, which could best be described as glowering. He scowled at the errant majordomo, who, to his credit, did not wilt before his sovereign’s displeasure.
“Forgive me, Your Excellency, but I sought to protect you from any possible culpability in this matter. Plausible deniability.”
Salokonos was not appeased.
“That’s all very well and good, but I still have a kidnapped Federation citizen on my hands, and a Starfleet medical officer, no less. Now, what am I to do with him?”
McCoy raised his hand. “If I may, Your Excellency, I’m not inclined to press charges or create an interstellar incident here. Just let me contact my ship, maybe give me a lift back to Braco, and I’m willing to let the whole kidnapping thing slide. No harm, no foul, as we used to say back on Earth.”
“No harm?” Rayob protested. “What of your patient? You would abandon the Yiyova so readily?”
His words pricked McCoy’s conscience. “Look, I never said I was going to forget her case altogether. Let me examine her scans back on the Enterprise, review the relevant medical literature, and so on; if I come up with any fresh insights or suggestions, I’ll be sure to transmit them to you.” Other options occurred to him as well. “And I’m hardly the only doctor in the Federation. If you like, we can certainly arrange for additional physicians and specialists to visit Ozalor on your princess’s behalf, without any need for ambushes or abductions.”
Who knows? McCoy thought. Perhaps Avomora’s agonies, as grueling as they were, could open up a new era of improved relations between Ozalor and the Federation. It would be comforting if some good came from her ordeal.
“Keep your alien doctors and nostrums to yourself,” Vumri said, her lip curling in contempt. “The Yiyova doesn’t need strangers experimenting on her. Our ways are best for her. My gifts alone can ease her affliction.”
McCoy’s hackles rose. That sounded more like ego than empathy to him. “What’s the matter? Worried about competition?”
“Hardly,” she scoffed before appealing directly to her ruler. “Please, Your Excellency, pay no attention to an ignorant foreigner who knows nothing of our ways or your daughter, and who never wanted to tend to Avomora in the first place. Send him back where he belongs, far from here.”
McCoy started to object, then realized that Vumri was actually lobbying to return him to the Enterprise. Did he really want to contradict her?
Whose side am I on?
“If only it were that simple,” Salokonos said. “Despite the doctor’s assurances, neither Starfleet nor the Federation can be expected to overlook the forcible abduction of one of their own, particularly in light of the painful history between our peoples. And the fact that the ambush took place on Braco of all planets complicates matters considerably; the last thing we need is for Ozalor to be accused of infringing on Braco’s sovereignty at the very time that Vok grows more aggressive in asserting its claims to the Birth World.”
McCoy recalled that Braco was a hot issue in the election on Vok.
“So?” Vumri said. “What do we care what foreign powers think of our actions? The Federation is no friend of Ozalor, as proven by their affinity with our ancestral enemies on Vok. We have no diplomatic relations with the Federation, so our relations with them cannot be harmed by this incident, and as for Braco… who are Vok or Starfleet to dictate what we can or cannot do on the world that spawned our race? Braco is our native soil. We have as much right to it as the greedy Vokites!”
“That goes without saying,” Salokonos said, “but there’s a difference between asserting our rights and inviting trouble. We may keep our distance from the Federation, but I have no desire to provoke them either.”
“Your prudence does you credit, sire,” Vumri argued, “but the Federation already set themselves against Ozalor when they sided with Vok. Why worry about offending those who have no love for us to begin with? We are already at odds.”
“Whoa there,” McCoy said. “Just because the Federation enjoys peaceful relations with Vok doesn’t mean that we’ve taken sides with them against your people. We pursue peace with every advanced world we encounter, not all of whom like each other very much.”
He realized that he was hurting his own chances of getting back to the Enterprise by challenging Vumri on this point, but he couldn’t keep silent while Vumri painted the Federation as an inveterate foe of Ozalor to the planet’s supreme ruler. He felt compelled to defend the Federation’s neutrality, even against his own interests.
“The friend of our enemy is not our friend,” Vumri insisted, “and does not belong on our world. Send him back where he came from.”
“And give the Federation an excuse to take action against us?” Salokonos asked. “Or another reason to side with Vok when it comes to dominion over Braco?” He stroked his beard thoughtfully. “These are treacherous waters. We must be careful how we navigate them.”
“I just told you,” McCoy said. “You don’t have to worry about Starfleet retaliating against you, at least as long as you don’t make a habit of kidnapping our people. This doesn’t have to spark a crisis. We can move past this.”
“So you say,” Salokonos said, sounding doubtful, “but I wonder if you can truly speak for your superiors… or for our adversaries on Vok. Even if the Federation chooses to look the other way, the Vokites are sure to use this incident against us, portraying us as villains and aggressors who cannot be trusted on Braco or any other world.”
McCoy didn’t have a ready rebuttal. Kidnapping a foreign national on somebody else’s planet wasn’t exactly a good look for anyone and was bound to get some people’s noses out of joint. He couldn’t guarantee that it wouldn’t be used against Ozalor, diplomatically or politically.
“Maybe this doesn’t have to become a big controversy,” he suggested. “Perhaps we can still handle things quietly.”
If it wasn’t already too late for that. For all he knew, the ambush on Braco was headline news by now. Unless Kirk and Commissioner Dare were keeping the whole thing hushed up for the duration.
“There is another issue to consider, Your Excellency,” Rayob said, joining the debate. “We cannot risk knowledge of the Yiyova’s affliction spreading beyond the palace walls. If the people were to know of her condition, if other worlds become aware that the Heir is unwell, then the very future and stability of the monarchy is cast into doubt.” He spoke softly but firmly. “Regrettably, the good doctor knows too much to be allowed to return to the Federation.”
“And whose fault is that?” McCoy snapped. “And give me some credit for respecting my patient’s confidentiality. I’m not going to go blabbing about her medical condition all over the quadrant.”
“Perhaps not, Doctor,” Salokonos said, “but how do you expect to explain your abduction to your superiors if and when you return to them? You are not to blame for learning of my daughter’s malady, we understand that, but the majordomo is not mistaken; we cannot risk Avomora’s condition becoming known to Starfleet and the rest of the quadrant. To do so endangers the dynasty, and thereby the security of our planet.”
