Chapter 7

When Kirk had been at the outpost almost a month, Leon spotted the approach of a Klingon ship, and woke Kirk out of a sound sleep. He was dressed in 30 seconds flat, and checking the readings in two minutes.

*Spock, it's time.*

*Enterprise is 2.9 days away.*

*Understood.*

"Leon, wake Burt and DJ. Have Burt check the lifepods. I need DJ to man communications."

"Yes, sir."

"Don, make sure those defense shields stay up. If the Klingons open fire, hit the distress beacon and take to the lifepods. Enterprise is three days away, so you should be picked up before you run out of oxygen. If they don't fire on you, stay put. Do not talk to them. And above all, do not fire on them for any reason. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir. Jim, do you have to go?"

"Yes, Don, I do. I'm going to handle this without bloodshed if I can. I'm counting on you, Don. Remember those you're responsible for."

"I'll never forget you, Jim. Thanks for everything!"

DJ rushed in, a little rumpled but ready for action.

"DJ, send to Enterprise: Klingon battleship sighted. Request immediate assistance. Then get me an open channel to the Klingons."

"Yes, sir." After a pause, "Done, sir. Channel open, audio only."

Kirk straightened his back anyway, and switched to Klingonese.

"What took you so long?"

"With whom am I speaking?"

"This is Kirk. And you are?"

"Commander Konti. Four weeks ago, you asked if I wished to start a war. Now however, you seem to have misplaced your precious starship."

Konti was not a name Kirk recognized, which was both good and bad. This Klingon might not have a personal grudge against him. However, neither was he one of the few reasonable Klingons Kirk knew.

"Look. We both know what you're here for. Let's make this easy. You can have me under one condition: You leave this outpost and her crew strictly alone. Opening fire on this outpost would constitute an act of war, and there would be immediate reprisal from the Federation. However, under the circumstances, I suspect the kidnapping of this officer might well be overlooked. Do you agree to my condition?"

"You are said to be a man of many tricks."

"There's no trick to this. Is your transporter working?"

"You'll have to let down your shields to let us use the transporter. Not to mention our shields. You expect me to trust you?"

"Here's what I have in mind. I leave here in a lifepod designed to penetrate our shields. You pick up the lifepod in a tractor beam, draw it inside your defense perimeter, and beam me aboard. Leave the lifepod though, because it will have a self-destruct timer running. If you warp out of here as soon as you have me, it shouldn't pose any problem. Does the plan have flaws?"

"You seem to have thought of everything. What's to keep me from firing on you and your lifepod?"

"Absolutely nothing. I'm assuming you'd rather have the physical proof than just a report of my death, with no body to prove it."

"An astute point. Very well, I agree to your condition. When may we expect you?"

"Within minutes. The self-destruct will be set to detonate five minutes after launch. Is that sufficient time for your people to complete the transfer?"

"Depends on how fast you're going. Lifepods tend to be fragile when encountering the force of a tractor beam."

"We'll make it ten minutes then."

"Much more reasonable."

"See you soon. Kirk out."

DJ broke the connection, turned and stared at Kirk.

"I understand enough Klingon to know what you just agreed to. You can't be serious! Klingons can't be trusted! Surely you know that!"

"Calm down, DJ. I know exactly what I'm doing. Listen to me, all of you. My survival is not in question here. Only the means and timing of death. I have been expecting this day ever since I got here. It has been my pleasure and privilege to know you these past weeks. There is one thing I need from you. Whether he blows me up or takes me captive, you will do nothing to retaliate. Is that understood?"

He fixed each of them with a steely glare, and got wordless nods in response.

"Good. Don, you're in charge. Leon, Burt, help me with this lifepod."

xxxx

Without another word, Spock rose and made his way quickly to the Bridge, with McCoy following. The call from 67 came in just after they arrived. Sulu had the conn.

"As you were, Mr. Sulu. I am merely checking my station for the night."

"Commander!" It was the lieutenant manning communications. "A message coming through from Outpost 67! Audio only."

"On speakers," barked Sulu.

"-battlecruiser. Repeat, we have sighted a Klingon battlecruiser. Request immediate assistance. Please acknowledge."

The voice was young and laced with nervous excitement. Sulu wished the voice had been Kirk's. He sighed.

"Send acknowledgment. Spock, how long will it take us to get there?"

"At Warp Six, just under three days."

"Make it Warp Eight."

"Mr. Sulu, even at Warp Eight, whatever is about to happen at 67 will have happened by the time we could get there. And Mr. Scott would object to what that speed for two days would do to his engines."

"All right," Sulu turned to the communications officer. "Lieutenant, tell them it'll be three days before the cavalry arrives. Helm, set course for 67, Warp Six."

Spock prepared to leave. "I shall be in my quarters."

"Understood, Spock. I'll inform Captain Young of the situation. And I'll let you know if we hear anything."

"Thank you, Mr. Sulu."

Spock refrained from telling Sulu that he would undoubtedly know long before Sulu did what Jim's situation was. McCoy trailed him off the Bridge, for once, silent and pensive. At Spock's door however, he was not about to leave Spock alone.

"Spock, you have no idea what's going to happen. I should drag you to Sickbay, but at the very least, I'm not leaving you alone. And that's final!"

"Perhaps Jim will not be killed."

"You don't believe that!"

Spock did not reply, but made no further protest at McCoy's presence.

xxxx

Konti stared at the image of the outpost on his screen. He did not believe Kirk would hand himself over on a silver platter. There had to be a trick. But his orders were clear: Kirk alive, without starting a war. So he would go along with Kirk's stated plan, and watch for the trap. The lifepod came into view and he began barking orders.

xxxx

Don, Burt, and the others were also watching the lifepod. Silence reigned at the outpost. Don wondered how soon the Klingons would open fire, on Kirk and then on them. Burt marveled that Kirk had remained cheerful right up to the end. Leon's only thought was how much the lifepod resembled a coffin. DJ wondered what one thought about in the last moments before death.

Kirk was arguing options with Spock. *It'd be safest for you to leave now. There's an even chance he'll just blow me up.*

*You don't think he will, because it's not what you would do.*

*What do I know about the Klingon mind? Maybe he's not a risk-taker.*

*But we are. I'll stay. Besides I haven't yet done for you that which the Lord wanted me here to do.*

*They've got an expert running the tractor beam. That was very smooth. And it looks like they're going to take me aboard. Spock, there's one thing that worries me about this. I can handle whatever they throw at me in the pain department. But I don't have any defense against drugs, or their latest version of the mindsifter.*

*I believe that is what the Lord would have me help you with.*

*I'm listening.*

*Mental surgery should be possible even at this great distance. However, I am by no means certain, and there would be no second chance. Once I withdraw, I cannot reestablish the link. Moreover it is delicate surgery and cannot be rushed.*

*You mean without causing damage. Spock, we don't have time for delicacy. They've got just two minutes left on the timer. I'm close enough to see the rivet heads. Transport will be any second. So wipe the whole thing if you have to, but do it now!*

But Spock didn't.

Kirk felt transport begin. Usually the transition took less time than a breath. This seemed to take much longer. Kirk had experienced transporter malfunctions before, but he suspected they were doing this on purpose. Kirk was amused rather than frightened.

Kirk materialized on the transporter pad of the Klingon battleship with six disruptors aimed at his chest.

"Such a charming welcome!"

"Don't move! And don't talk!" barked the Klingon who appeared to be in charge.

As Kirk stood there, he felt a slight shudder as the lifepod detonated. Shortly thereafter, the unmistakable sound and feel of warp drive.

Thank you, Lord! Kirk thought. They didn't fire on the outpost. At least we're not going to start a war today.

Shortly thereafter, Konti appeared in the transporter room. Kirk drew himself erect, looked directly into Konti's eyes, and spoke in Klingon.

"I claim the right to be Commander Konti's own personal prisoner."

Konti looked startled, but no more so than Kirk was, for he hadn't intended to say any such thing, and wasn't sure what it implied.

*Spock?*

*I don't know. Perhaps the Lord put the words in your mouth.*

Konti took a step closer.

"You appear to be fluent in our language, but do you really understand what you have just said?"

"If you tell me, then we'll both know."

"Once spoken, the words are irrevocable. However, under the circumstances, I will give you one opportunity to change your mind. Listen carefully. You are giving up any rights you might have as a Federation prisoner. There would be no possibility of exchange, no trial, no formal execution. You would not be treated with the honor that is your due as a formidable foe.

"Instead you would become my personal property, to do with as I please. One who becomes a slave in this fashion is considered the lowest of the low. He is despised for choosing the life of a slave over an honorable death. Your life would not necessarily be any longer, and quite likely no less unpleasant. You are said to be an honorable man of great courage. I cannot imagine why you would choose to be my slave."

"What advantage or disadvantage would there be for you personally?"

"I will do my duty as a Klingon officer." Konti narrowed his eyes piercingly.

"Of course. But that's not what I asked you."

"They cannot require me to kill you, nor can they object if I choose to do so."

That wasn't what Kirk wanted to know either. He decided on a more direct approach.

"Will the possession of me as a slave enhance your position or personal honor, and if so, would that more than outweigh the difficulties associated with owning an enemy of the State?"

Konti just stared at him for a moment. "You care what this would mean for me personally?! Why?"

"I hope to have opportunity in the coming days to explain. For now, it is sufficient that I do care."

"It is true there are many who would be jealous and angry, but I have sufficient means to protect my property. And you have guessed correctly. One who owns Captain Kirk would have significant political prestige, at least for a time."

"Thank you. I appreciate your honesty and generosity. Nevertheless, I will let the words stand. I choose to be your slave."

There was an undercurrent of anger and disgust throughout the room, but Konti was merely puzzled. He was quite certain Kirk's decision had nothing whatever to do with preserving his own life. But he could see no way in which Kirk could turn the situation to his advantage, or that of the Federation. So, what was Kirk's trap, and more importantly, had he just fallen into it?

"Very well, so be it."

Kirk saw Konti turn to his aide and request something from his quarters, but he didn't quite catch what it was.

"You are no longer entitled to wear the Federation uniform. Take it off, slowly and carefully. Boots and undergarments, everything. Place your apparel on the transporter pad to your left."

Kirk calmly followed instructions, noting that he could not shed Federation thinking as easily as clothes.

*Spock?*

*I need several hours during which you do not have to function.*

*We may have only minutes. What if we're headed from here straight to the mindsifter?*

*If so, I will take it all before they can get it, I promise you.*

*Thank you.*

"Now take three steps forward. Stop right there."

Konti turned to the transporter technician.

"Wide angle dispersion. Energize."

And Kirk's uniform was no more. But Kirk wasn't given time to regret it. Konti's next command was addressed to the medic on his right.

"Scan him, and don't miss anything."

The Klingon doctor snorted, and with McCoy-like disregard for the disruptors, approached Kirk.

"Hands on your head. Spread your feet."

The doctor performed a thorough scan and pronounced him clean.

"No transmitters or other mechanical devices of any kind. Nothing there that shouldn't be."

At this point, the aide returned with an oblong case. Konti opened it and stared at the contents pensively for a moment. Then he flipped a switch, turned a dial, and extricated a metal rod about fifteen inches long with something attached to one end. Konti turned to face Kirk with the rod in his hand.

"Come here."

Kirk started walking with his hands still on his head.

"That's close enough. Kneel. Feet flat. Ankles together; knees spread. Farther. Put your hands on your ankles; fingers towards each other. Now sit on your hands."

Kirk was impressed. It was a position from which he could not possibly defend himself, much less launch an attack.

"You will assume this position whenever I give the command to kneel. The procedure I am about to perform will be repeated weekly for the first month, monthly the first year, quarterly the first five years, and yearly thereafter. It is designed to produce a wound that will never heal, that will be a constant reminder to you that you belong to me. The specific shape of the wound also identifies to others that you are mine. It is therefore essential that you not move during the procedure. Children are rendered unconscious for the duration. Prisoners such as yourself are simply held."

The aide moved to a position behind Kirk.

"Restraint is unnecessary," Kirk stated flatly.

"If you attempt this without restraint and do not succeed, then the brand is doubled, not just once, but every time thereafter. If you succeed, I will add a small scar with my knife. Also you must attempt it each time until you fail. With each success, you get a new knife wound also. So be very sure you want to do this - the price is high."

"An ingenious system: wearing the level of courage and endurance for all to read. I choose the top - no restraints."

As Konti approached with the branding iron, Kirk gazed into his eyes. Konti was startled and disturbed by what he saw there. He expected a stoic, unreadable stare. Instead Kirk's eyes held a strange brightness, openly unconcerned about the proceedings. Konti hesitated, but saw no look of triumph in Kirk's eyes. Rather, as he hesitated, Kirk gave him a look of compassion and encouragement. This made Konti angry, to which Kirk responded with tolerant amusement.

Konti shook himself mentally and concentrated on the task at hand. As the brand touched his forehead, Kirk's only response was to begin blinking his eyes more rapidly as the tear ducts kicked in. As he held the brand in place and smelled the burned flesh, Konti was again drawn to Kirk's eyes. He did not understand what he saw there, but it both attracted and repelled him. Spellbound, he held the brand in place twice as long as necessary. Kirk never wavered. Finally the aide shifted his feet and Konti snapped out of it.

Returning the branding iron to its case, Konti drew his knife and returned to Kirk. Examining the brand carefully, he could find no flaw. Kirk had not so much as twitched.

"You have earned this."

Konti carefully made a small cut at the top of the brand, turning the knife in the wound so that it would heal with a visible scar. Konti stepped back, cleaned and sheathed his knife, avoiding Kirk's eyes.

"We will do this again in seven days. Meanwhile your task is to tell all you know about Starfleet and the Federation. Since you will understandably be reluctant to do so, I am assigning my aide, Subcenturion Khlat, and the good Doctor Koh, to assist you in the task. You will survive it. Their orders are clear. You may wish you hadn't. On the other hand, if you decide to be reasonable, it need not be nearly as unpleasant. Good day, 'Captain' Kirk, and welcome aboard."

Konti gave Kirk a departing look of mockery.

Khlat shoved Kirk onto his face and installed heavy wrist and ankle manacles. Then he hauled Kirk to his feet, and Dr. Koh approached with a familiar-looking device.

"This apparatus effectively prohibits all visual and auditory sensory input."

Translation: blind and deaf, thought Kirk. Is this guy a cross between Spock and McCoy?

Spock laughed. *An interesting combination.*

"It does more than that, however. It delivers a pain stimulus of random frequency, duration, intensity, type, and location. Its purpose is to reduce your resistance to other measures. You will wear this device at all times for the indefinite future. Should you decide to talk, simply begin talking. Everything you say will be recorded. The device contains a speaker in case we want to ask specific questions. Oh, and do not try to remove it. You can't."

Khlat spoke up behind him.

"Likewise, you will wear this collar. It cannot be removed."

He cinched a leather strap tightly around Kirk's neck as he talked. When he finished securing it, there was enough slack so that Kirk could breathe, just barely.

"Its first purpose is to attach a leash. However, I prefer to drive you, rather than pull you along behind me. So, the whip on your right shoulder means turn right; left shoulder, turn left. To stop, I pull on the leash. The whip applied anywhere on the backside means go. Got all that?"

"Yes."

"I think we better practice."

He marched Kirk all over the transporter room with liberal application of the whip, once aiming him straight at a disruptor, just to see if he would go. Kirk would, and did. All the way up to having the end of the disruptor buried in his belly. Fortunately, Khlat had not picked a nervous or trigger-happy crewman. Dr. Koh cleared his throat, and Khlat returned Kirk to his original location.

"My methods are more sophisticated, but they do not satisfy the bloodlust. So you may play with Khlat for a while. After a few days acquaintance with my little toy here, you should be sufficiently pliable to benefit from the application of other techniques."

"Charming."

"Where did you learn idiomatic tlhingan Hol?" The mild tone indicated mere curiosity.

But Kirk assumed it was also a probe for information. "From an expert."

Koh put the device on Kirk's head, shutting out sight and sound. Kirk was grateful this wasn't a brand-new experience. He felt Koh step away. Khlat applied the whip and they left the transporter room.