Captive

Chapter 6
Captain Kirk rolled over onto his side. He was exhausted after a very long session in the gym. He'd mistakenly allowed Mr. Spock to remind him how long it had been since his last zero-gravity exercise update. Luckily it was late in the ship's "day", so he had time for a hot shower, and a rest.
The continuing routine scanning and mapping of the sector did not require his presence on the bridge. Sooner or later he would need to finish his log entries for the watch. He had also been putting off reviewing the files from the Casarii mission. Although he knew that his senior officers, and finally, his yeoman had polished the report to perfection, he didn't like sending off things to Starfleet Command that he hadn't actually gone over personally.
It annoyed him that no further progress had been made in tracing the origins of the smugglers and their ship. Dr. McCoy said that his patient still wasn't up to any questioning. She was the real link in all this. There were also so many unanswered questions about other criminal activities in a supposedly quiet sector. On one of the Casarii planets, crew reported seeing Rihannsu artifacts for sale in curio shops. Shopkeepers simply said they were acquired from traders, which was not illegal in itself. Non-Federation traders were free to buy their goods from anyone who would sell. Strictly speaking, a Federation member world shouldn't be doing business with the Rihannsu, directly or indirectly. However, there was no evidence that the Treaty had been violated,
The Enterprise had challenged a few vessels from non-aligned worlds while in the Casarii solar system. Only one carried anything forbidden by the Federation, a shipment of various illegal drugs. The science and medical staff had determined that the substances would have little or no effect on any of the sentient species of the Beta Casarii planets. Kirk felt duty bound to confiscate the consignment anyway, to prevent its resale to anyone who would be harmed. The traders were released, since the Casarii system was outside the Federation Treaty Exploration Zone.
Kirk stretched and yawned. The ship had left Casarii behind several days ago. They'd been charting the surrounding space, and dropping navigation buoys. Mapping was an essential part of exploration, but it didn't give the Captain much to do. He'd given Mr. Spock and Mr. Sulu permission to begin modifications of the navigational instruments, under Chief Engineer Scott's supervision, which should increase the distance a starship could travel from a navbeacon. They were also intended to improve navigational capabilities during plasma storms and similar severe disturbances.
Jim rolled onto his back. Spock would report when the changes were completed. There were no new orders from Starfleet yet. The ship hadn't encountered any vessels out here, hostile or otherwise. There were admin matters that needed his attention, but they weren't urgent. Things were quiet, rare in a commander's life. He had some time to think."I can think here just as well as anywhere else.", he said to himself as he slipped into a light doze.

The First Officer unconsciously traced the intricate pattern of the inlaid conference table. She felt as though she was standing too close to an unshielded plasma stream. The Board meeting was distinctly edgy. The N'lah ih had listened impassively to all the reports, very few of which were encouraging. Now each department was trying to justify itself.
"The Rihannsu claim that the Frel'h violated their space, so they had the right to destroy it under the Agreement. The sensor logs Frel'h transmitted show its last recorded position well outside the boundary." The First Officer didn't expect to escape unscathed, but she hadn't ordered the ship to approach the treaty zone so closely, or half a day early. In response to the N'lah ih's questioning glance she replied "The Rihannsu commander responsible is not one of ours."
"Then little else can be done. They are correct to insist upon their rights. Frel'h has paid for its error. Obtain a replacement." The N'lah levelled her gaze at another. The First Officer's heartrate relaxed slightly. She would survive this day.
Finance now was in the anti-matter stream. "Revenue is down in nearly every division. The largest drop, nearly ten per cent, has been in information traffic." He displayed the slightest signs of uneasiness. His job was only to make certain the Consortium's income was documented, and allocated correctly. It was up to the others to generate that income. "Armaments and livestock are stable. Pharmaceuticals, art and antiquities, and technology transfer are up. Everything else has decreased since the last Board meeting." He had been speaking to the room in general, not daring to look at the N'lah ih. Now he glanced at her. "Reserves are good, outstanding invoices and other debt collection at the usual level. Replacing Frel'h presents no difficulty." He nodded slightly to one of his colleagues.
The N'lah also looked at this colleague. "How much?"
The head of Procurement had of course been expecting this question for some time. "One-fifty to two hundred million, including crew. That would be from the Qurnatta. Less if we go with something from the Djrass or the Orions, naturally."
"What about commissioning a new ship, instead of from stock?" asked the N'lah. Frel'h had not had the best defence capability in the fleet.
"Two to four times as much. Plus the delay." Procurement shrugged slightly.
"Logistics?"
"We can afford to wait, if you've got something special in mind." came the reply.
"Perhaps I do." She was thinking it might be a good idea to upgrade the fleet. It would be better for business.
The rest of the meeting was marginally less tense than its beginning. Their leader seemed in a pensive mood. That mood was fragile, and disappeared when the loss of an important shipment was discussed. There had been other losses, but the N'lah ih had dismissed them. Every business had minor losses. She was paying her crew enough. They could, and would, rectify things without her intervention. This was different.
"As far as we can trace, the agent left with the shipment as per schedule. The only other reports we have say that his damaged ship was found fifty thousand k's from the assigned location. Drifting towards Federation space. He died without saying anything. One of our other people in the Household tried to get a look at the sensor logs, but no luck. We don't know what happened to the shipment." The Information Officer finished her report.
Security spoke up. "Any chance it went back to Klinzhai?" That would be unfortunate, but not unsalvageable.
"We've had no word sinc e we've been back in communication range." The I.O. replied.
"The Federation?" the N'lah asked. A murmur arose at that.
"No reports from their unshielded subspace channels. The Enterprise has been in the sector, but we've been too far away to monitor their transmissions directly." the I.O. said warily, wondering how much of the blame was going to fall on her.
"They won't know what to do with it, even if they do find it." The First Officer added.
The N'lah ih looked sceptical. The Federation could be troublesome, sometimes. "Find that shipment. I don't like to keep clients waiting." She looked around at the grim faces of the Board. "That will be all for now." She leaned back to think.

"'Cloak and dagger', is it? Hmm...I like it. Yes, definitely cloak and dagger." Captain Cnesen zdi Mol smiled at the First Officer of the Lynx. They were discussing the presence of Commodore Yoorzek on board their vessel. Any Class One scout could be called upon to act as a command or diplomatic courier. It just happened to be their turn. The trouble was that Captain Cnesen didn't know why the Commodore had graced them with his presence. All he knew was that they were headed for a sector near enough to Klingon space to be...entertaining. Nothing else had been explained.
Not that the Commodore's desire to be in the area needed any explanation. He was certainly one of Starfleet's experts on anything tlhIngan. Yoorzek spoke the formal Imperial language fluently, as well as a few regional dialects. A large chunk of whatever cultural information was lodged in Federation data banks, had been contributed by the Commodore. There were even rumours that he'd been inside the Empire, which he neither confirmed nor denied. If anyone had a right to be conveyed to the area, he had.
What was troubling the Captain and the First Officer was that they were ordered to establish communication silence once they neared their destination. Everyone who ventures into deep space learns to live with being out of touch from time to time. Lynx's senior officers just weren't so pleased that it had to be this particular part of deep space. The Commodore had also ordered them to keep the four-seat shuttle they carried ready to launch at anytime. That too wasn't a problem for a well run starship like Lynx. What truly irritated Cnesen was the particular air of secrecy that Yoorzek seemed to have draped around himself. Of course the Captain had operated under sealed orders before. At least then he, and the First Officer (usually), knew what they were doing. Currently their only order from Starfleet was to follow Commodore Yoorzek's orders to the letter. So they were.
The Commodore under discussion entered the briefing room, where Cnesen and First Officer Tsosie were waiting at his request. Cnesen was reminded of his mother's father's favourite saying:"Don't talk about the gzug, it will come to listen." Not that the Captain really believed in the eater of unprotected souls. The analogy just seemed apt at the moment.
With no greeting or preliminary small talk, Yoorzek began. "We are nearing the coordinates I ordered. This ship will remain here until I return. If threatened in any way, you will, of course, defend yourselves. Under no other circumstances is Lynx to communicate with anyone. It is unlikely that you will encounter other vessels in this sector."
"That is an understatement." thought Cnesen. Although the ship was nearer to the Klingon Empire than the officers thought prudent, their specific location seemed very much an abandoned back door. Long range sensors showed few stars, none with planets. A little dust, the odd small asteroid, and not much else. A parsec or two distant, the sector hadn't even been explored, at any rate, not by the Federation.
"The shuttle will be launched in one hour, Standard. I assume that the secure cargo bay has been prepared."
Tsosie nodded. "Just awaiting your voice lock to be activated, sir." He wondered yet again what secret shipment the Commodore was going to retrieve and store aboard Lynx. No doubt some Klingon artifact obtained in a completely illegal manner, the possession of which would start an interstellar war. Facetiously, he then decided it was a lifetime supply of jnga, reputedly more vile than Romulan ale. Either way, their ship was being used to haul freight. "Hmph."
"You may expect my return within three days. I will be out of sensor range for most of the time. Do not attempt to contact the shuttle until it is within range again. Is that understood?"
"Yes, sir." Captain Cnesen replied. "Is he reading from some third rate holo script?" "Will there be anything else, Commodore?" he continued aloud.
"No. Dismissed." He left the briefing room without any further comment.
Cnesen and Tsosie just looked at each other, and after a suitable pause, burst out laughing. They shook their heads in shared amusement, and proceeded to the Bridge.
Yoorzek stopped at his quarters to pick up a few items, then headed for the hangar deck. He smiled tightly to himself, which would have surprised the senior officers. Everything was going so very smoothly.This should turn out to be a very profitable trip.
The shuttle technician was just finishing the routine preflight check when Yoorzek arrived. "Everything's ready for you, sir. Fully provisioned, and additional anti-gravs for cargo. Departure at your pleasure."
The Commodore inclined his head fractionally in acknowledgement. The Rigellian technician inclined an eyestalk equally minutely. She'd be glad to see the posterior of that one. If he had an accident, she might not regret the loss of the shuttle that could result.
Yoorzek entered the shuttle and closed the hatch. He deposited his carrysak by the control panel, and began the departure sequence. When all systems were ready, he signalled for the hangar doors to be opened, and took the shuttle out.
"Shuttle away, sir." The Rigellian courteously notified the Captain, even though it would register on the sensors.
"Good hunting" thought the Captain.
As soon as the shuttle cleared the proper distance, Yorzek engaged the warp drive. He wanted to be out of sensor range as soon as possible. He knew that Cnesen assumed that this journey would end somewhere near the Klingon borders. In the mean time, he began unpacking the things he'd brought aboard. It only took a little work to install the shielded communication array that was not Starfleet standard issue.
When he was satisfied that Lynx couldn't eavesdrop on him, the Commodore opened a special channel.

"We're being hailed by a Starfleet vessel, Commander." The Communications Officer reported. " On a properly coded channel."
"On sensors yet?" He knew the flagship would see them first.
"Just coming into the long range sphere." There was a pause as the Science Officer checked more displays. "There is another vessel entering at extreme range...also displaying a Starfleet ID beacon, USS Enterprise."
"Can they see each other, or communicate?" the Commander asked, puzzled.
"Not yet, Commander. The distances are too great. Of course, neither can they detect us at this time. However the Enterprise will intersect our present course before the other vessel is in transporter range."
The Cormarian informed the N'lah ih of the situation. One of the two ships must be the expected client. Presumably it was the one that had contacted them by coded subspace channels. What was the other one doing here? Had the flagship fallen into a trap?
The First Officer supressed a surge of panic. Of all the convoluted twists of fate! Destruction of the Federation ship was unwise. Someone knew where it was, and would come looking. Neither could they be allowed to observe either the flagship or the other Starfleet vessel, much less any meeting.
The N'lah ih was thinking along the same lines. Unlike the Commander, she already knew which ship contained her client. She considered the options carefully, then issued a single order.
"Distract the Enterprise."

Captain Kirk roused from his half-sleep with a guilty start. "So much for deep thought" he yawned to himself wryly. He reached behind his head to touch the commlink pad.
"Kirk to bridge."
"Bridge. Lasu here." came the disembodied reply.
Kirk winced slightly. He'd been "thinking" for longer than he intended, and beta watch had already commenced. "Mr. Lasu, is either Mr. Spock or Mr. Sulu still there?," knowing the likely answer.
"Spock here, Captain."
"How are the navboard alterations coming, Mr. Spock?" The Captain was also interested in anything that would enhance the performance of the Enterprise.
"We should be ready for testing in two point three hours, sir. The main logic solids have been programmed with the new coordinate algorithms. The transtator coupling crystals are being realigned, and will be installed shortly. As soon as Mr. Scott completes the adjustments to the navigational sensor array, testing will begin."
"Thank you, Mr. Spock. Carry on. Kirk out." He shifted one arm from behind his head, and laid it across his stomach, imagining the scene on the Bridge. Spock at the science station checking the programming line by line, Sulu at the gutted navconsole "supervising" one or more Engineering specialists, Chekov or his beta watch counterpart handling navigation functions slaved to the secondary console, and Mr. Scott cajoling that last sliver of excellence to be had out of the ship's "eyes".
Jim smiled. The ship was in good hands. Things were quiet. Almost too quiet. "What am I saying?" he grumbled to himself. He was trying to decide whether he wanted to "think" or eat when the commlink whistled at him. Lazily he reached up behind his head once more. "Kirk here."
"Jim, had dinner yet?" came the slightly drawled reply.
"No, Bones. Is that an invitation? And are you paying this time?"
"Call it professional concern, no, and come to my office. I've got something that might interest you. McCoy out."
Kirk stretched, sat up and stretched again. He had a quick wash and brush-up, wondering what the doctor was planning to spring on him this time. "Bones must have won some Sidaran chocolate from Ensign Vur again." The Captain looked forward to a leisurely dinner with his Chief Surgeon, possibly followed by some intensely decadent chocolate. Life was good.
"Sulu, I'll get this done a lot faster if you stop asking me when I'm going to be finished." Roan Deel, the Engineering technician was amused and annoyed. She'd already explained to the overanxious helmsman that realigning a crystal lattice took a finite, measureable amount of time. The work required absolute precision. She was verifying the structure of the crystal she'd just removed from the realignment chamber. When the indicator showed it to be perfect, she handed the crystal in its iridium mounting frame to Sulu. She felt she was making a huge concession by letting him re-install it, and didn't hesitate to let him know so.
Hikaru just smiled, and said "thank you". These Engineering types were all alike. In actuality they were good friends, most of the time. He busied himself ostentatiously with the placement and reconnection of the crystal, the second of the three they were upgrading.
Chekov looked on, smiling to himself. He'd been trying to get the two of them together for quite a while. Unfortunate duty rosters had kept Sulu and Deel on different watches for the past several weeks. A discreet word in the Chief Engineer's ear, (amplified by a bottle of excellent Centauran whiskey) had done the trick. When Mr. Spock had discussed the planned alterations with Mr. Scott, Scotty "just happened to have someone" he could spare.
Scotty surveyed the scene with a paternal air. Not just for the hopefully budding romace, either. Every square millimetre of the Ennterprise was on of his "wee bairns". The navigational sensors had been tweaked, prodded, and beguiled into giving better than their previous best. He was waiting for the final crystal to be replaced so testing could begin. Since the ship was running sub-light at the moment, he'd asked one of his staff to run routine integrity checks on the dilithium crystals in the warp core. The navigation tests would eventually require the warp drive, but initial tests would be conducted at impulse speeds.
Mr. Spock finished his meticulous review of the programming of the logic solids. He turned to face the helm station. Automatically, he glanced at the main viewscreen. Deel had taken the third crystal from the realignment chamber, while Sulu was still fussing with the second. Chekov turned away from his boards to see if he could "help" Sulu seat the beautiful crystal to the helmsman's satisfaction.
No one knew just exactly what happened, because it happened too quickly. No proximity alarms, no red alert klaxon, no warning from any sensors. The main lighting failed. Auxiliary emergency lights flickered, as though their photons were unsure of what to do. Lieutenant Erhiennu at the comunication station tried to rip the transdator out of her ear before it exploded. The others were doubled over or clawing at eyes, ears, or other sensory organs, in varying degrees of pain.
Similar frantic attempts at self-preservation were occurring all over the ship. Ship's systems wavered, causing temperature, gravity, and inertial fluctuations. The crew were flung, bounced, or dropped in varying directions. The strange surge reached every part of the Enterprise. No area was left unaffected, no crewmember unscathed.
In Engineering, the technician examining the main dilithium crystal housing died instantly, as the translucent prisms grasped, aligned, and re-emitted the energy flooding through and around them. Others nearby were burned by the overspill.
On the Bridge, Chekov was paralysed in his seat at the navigation console. He saw Deel and Sulu engulfed in a haze of light, whose colour his mind refused to identify. Their bodies were rigidly clamped in postures of silent agony. He tried desperately to reach them, to do something, until his overburdened brain gave up and shut down.
Mr. Spock, too, was immobilised. He attempted to summon Vulcan mental disciplines that might help him to stem the torment and darkness that was overwhelming him. He was unable to turn his eyes from the image on the forward viewscreen before he lost consciousness. A last particle of logic insisted that no ship that large should have been so undetectible.

"Helm, resume previous heading. Sensor readings?" the Commander of the flagship looked towards the Science Officer. The Cormarian hadn't been quite prepared for the display the new weapon provided. The interplay of colours, most of which he couldn't name, as the beam radiation washed over and through the Enterprise's skinfield was extraordinary. Unfortunately, he also hadn't been prepared for the fact that the automatic firing link overrode the cloaking systems at the moment of discharge.
"Their main shields have come on. Only twenty percent of nominal. Life support on auxiliary, warp core unpowered. Substantial numbers of life signs. Does the Commander wish an accurate accounting of casualities?" the Science Officer replied.
The Commander made a negative gesture. One distraction, as ordered. The numbers were unimportant. "How long were we visible?"
More outputs were examined. "No more than six microseconds. Full concealment restored." The Science Officer was reviewing its files on Federation sensor technology. It needed to know whether the lapse in undetectibility was long enough for the starship to have "seen" them. Although full responsibility (ie blame) would rest with the Commander, it knew that it, and the head of Ordnance, would hardly escape entirely. They'd recommended purchase of the weapon, after supposedly exhaustive study of the specs. If it was unlikely that Enterprise had detected the flagship, their lives might be spared. Unfortunately the information on the monitor was not encouraging. The lapse conceivably could have been picked up by some of the starship's sensors, if they were being carefully monitored. The Science Officer was fervently invoking some of the Greater Deities, in the hope that the devastation and confusion that that sugik weapon should have caused would make any analysis impossible.
The Commander sat thinking for a few moments. Except for the very brief flicker at the moment of the new weapon's discharge, the flagship had been "invisible" to Enterprise. It was extremely unlikely that the Federation ship was able to track them now, immediately after the attack. Their energy systems were in disarray, crew dead or seriously injured. There was no sign of pursuit. There was no one the undoubtedly incapacitated starship could summon for help, this far from Federation space. He could complete the interrupted rendezvous with the waiting client. He too fervently called upon an Other for assistance, and equally fervently hoped it would not be necessary. The command seat suddenly seemed too small, yet again. The Cormarian wondered if the N'lah ih would take that into consideration, when obtaining a replacement, should she decide his existence was no longer required.
chapter 7