Chapter 26: First Contact Part 2

Jim, Dawn and Spock materialized. They stood on an enormous open plain. A group of strange beings stood a few paces away.

One with deep scarlet fur moved. Its muscles slid smoothly beneath its short fur. It was taller than Jim, Dawn or Spock.

"It will be edifying to discover in what base this species does arithmetic," Spock murmured. The tricorder blipped and blinked.

Dawn and Jim stepped toward the scarlet being.

It stretched out its hands, palms up, empty.

Dawn and Jim matched its gesture. It held their gaze.

"The biology resembles no system with which we are familiar," Spock said. "The possibility of our infecting them with microorganisms, or vice versa, is ten to the minus nineteen."

"To put it bluntly," Dawn said with a glance at Spock who nodded. "It should be next to impossible for them to infect us or we them."

The being sang a few notes. Jim glanced at Dawn who held a universal translator, it ran the sounds through its programming and produced what it believed to be a translation. Like the translating functions of the Enterprise's computer, it produced gibberish.

Dawn looked at Jim who nodded. She looked at the scarlet individual. "I am Dawn," she said. "Our translator is having trouble understanding your speech."

The being replied. The translator emitted a strangled whistle. The being's ears flicked back, forward, back.

Jim stepped toward the being; his hand outstretched.

"Don't take another step," Dawn said as she felt that Spock was about to stop Jim from moving. She noticed him looking at her as she glanced at Spock. "Forcefield?"

"Yes," Spock answered.

"They are protecting themselves just as we are protecting ourselves," Dawn said as she looked back at Jim.

"Precisely, commander. But the problem of infection is nonexistent. The air is breathable. The partial pressure of oxygen is slightly higher than in earth's atmosphere, and considerably higher than in Vulcan's. The temperature is well within the comfort zone for human beings."

"What about Vulcans?" Jim asked.

"For Vulcans, comfort does not enter the equation. The suits are unnecessary." Spock took off the helmet of his suit, Dawn and Jim followed suit.

Jim pressed into the alien field till it stopped him. The beings watched gravely. Jim waited.

The force faded.

The scarlet being stepped forward. The two species touched for the first time.

"Welcome to the United Federation of Planets," Jim said.

"Thank you for welcoming us to your ship," Dawn added.

The scarlet being had eyes of amber gold. Each being had fur of a different color, eyes of a different color.

In the controlled environment of a starship, clothing existed for custom's sake, for decoration, for modesty. None of these beings wore clothing, though several wore bangles on fingers or toes. The beings had nothing, in human terms, about which to be modest; nothing immediately recognizable as generative organs or secondary sexual characteristics.

Dawn and Jim kept talking in order to elicit more information for the translator to work on. Each word they spoke, every gesture they made, brought a new chorus of song. In response, the translator continued to make futile and meaningless sputters.

"Commander, if I may suggest—?"

"Disable it's output?" Dawn asked. "Way ahead of you." She flipped a switch or two and the translator stopped trying to translate. Instead she had the translator devote its power to collection and analysis.

Spock scanned with his tricorder. He observed the behavior of the new beings. He could detect no single one of them that took the lead. Instead, they gave every impression of discussing at every turn what to do next. He also observed his surroundings. The environment exceeded by far the strangeness of any other he had ever encountered. In one direction, gentle dunes led to foothills, foothills to mountains, mountains to higher and higher peaks till distance obscured them. In another direction, tall stone spikes jolted from broken ground to form an eerie landscape.

Across 180 degrees, the world stretched on without end. But in the other half of the circle of view, the world did end. The craft's enclosing wall leaped upward, vanishing into the distant heights of the sky's geometric pattern of light. The fabric that made up the wall consisted of great pearly globes of many sizes, packed densely together.

Overhead, a delicate glowing webwork cast an even light that surrounded every object with a faint circular shadow.

Dawn watched the beings herself; she had been searching for empathic avenues of communication. No matter what she and Jim were hitting walls. "We can't get the same answer twice. Even when we choose the simplest object, we get a different reply from each of the beings, and sometimes we get different replies from the same being if we point to the same thing twice," she said. "I'm pretty good at singing. But without a context I can't string anything together and make it sound intelligible."

"I believe you are correct, commander," Spock said. "Many groups of beings possess different dialects of the same language. In addition, this ship may hold different ethnic groups with different languages."

"But if that were true, wouldn't they send representatives who all spoke the same language, so they'd have at least a chance of communicating with us?" Jim asked.

"That might be logical," Spock said. "Under certain conditions, and from our point of view. But these beings do not have our point of view. They may operate under a different system of logic entirely. They may not be prepared to meet other sentient beings."

"But that's the whole point of star travel!" Kirk exclaimed. "Discovering new places, new people—"

"Again, captain—it is a major point for us. Their reasons may be entirely different."

Kirk's communicator signaled. "Kirk here."

"A Klingon ship is approaching the alien spacecraft," came Buffy's voice from his communicator.

"Civilian or military?"

"It's an armed cruiser of a design the computer doesn't recognize," Buffy said. "The owner claims it's been decommissioned."

Kirk glanced at Spock and Dawn.

"Within the realm of possibility, captain, if it is obsolete. But in that case, computer should recognize it."

"How close is it?" Kirk asked Buffy.

"About a million kilometers. Well out of range of its weapons, or ours."

"Warn it off, Buffy. Tell it ... misunderstandings might occur if it remains' in Federation space."

"The problem is the Phalanx is currently in dispute. There are sections both we and the Klingons claim," Buffy said.

"That is true, Captain Kirk," Spock said. "Since nothing of value exists within the disputed region, neither government has pressed its claim. But neither government has seen fit to withdraw, either."

Kirk blew out his breath. "All right. Buffy, suggest that they might be encroaching. See what reaction you get. Use tact. If they come within weapons range, raise shields. Tell Mr. Kyle to beam us up on my signal."

"Yes, sir."

Kirk folded his communicator and indicated with hand signals and pantomime that he, Dawn and Spock had to leave, but would return. The beings whistled occasionally and sang high fluting notes.

The scarlet being raised its hands. Spock's tricorder detected odd electromagnetic emanations and erupted into a cacophony of powerful signals. Spock had never seen anything like it. But, then, he reflected, he had never seen anything like this world within a ship before, either.

"Jim," Buffy said, "we're getting a visual transmission—are you sending it?" She described it: an echo of the schematic the Enterprise earlier had transmitted to the strange starship. The tiny stick figures traveled from the starship on a glittery beam, then disappeared inside the Enterprise.

"Thanks, Buffy." Jim touched his chest, pointed out of the worldship, then pointed at the ground. "That's right. We have to go for a while. But we'll be back. We'll be back."

The being folded its hands. The chaotic readings faded from Spock's tricorder. Then the being spread its arms, hands open, palms up.

Dawn and Jim replied with the same gesture. The human and the new being gazed at each other. The scarlet being flicked its tongue over the structure above its lips. Spock noted still another strange set of readings from the tricorder. The worldship inhabitants had no equipment—no visible, mechanical equipment—for making visible transmissions.

Sensors found no recognizable alien electronic technology within range.

Kirk flipped open his communicator. "Kirk to Enterprise. Beam us up, Mr. Kyle."

One moment they were standing in front of the aliens the next they were on the transporter platform of the Enterprise.

"We've got to find a better way to communicate with them," Jim said on the way back to the bridge. "If we put the translator's data into ship's computer, what are the chances of getting any results?"

"I couldn't tell you," Dawn said. "It might work, but on the other hand it could cause problems."

Upon their arrival on the bridge, Buffy stood so that Jim could sit.

"What happened out there?" McCoy demanded.

"It's incredible, Bones. Lieutenant Uhura ... intraship channel, please."

"Channel open, sir."

Jim hesitated. How do you announce meeting an entirely unknown sentient species? he wondered. Especially one that has a technology higher than your own? "Kirk to all personnel. The gravity field of a spacecraft has drawn the Enterprise from its course, but the ship has incurred no structural damage. We have established peaceful contact with the spacecraft's inhabitants, a previously unknown sentient species."

Jim looked at Buffy. "What about the Klingon ship?"

"He won't change course," Buffy replied.

"Oh, really. Let's take a look at it."

Spock raised one eyebrow at the image that formed on the viewscreen. This was no elderly, battered hulk, no irreparable, decommissioned military craft, but the most advanced technology of the Empire, so new that Spock had never seen a cruiser like it. "Captain, it is very nearly beyond the range of possibility that this ship belongs to a civilian."

"I see what you mean, Commander Spock. Lieutenant Uhura, I'll speak to the owner," Jim said.

The owner's image appeared on the screen. Even when the chances are one to one million, or one to one billion, that one chance does exist. For though the ship was a military one, the owner was a civilian.

Unlike any member of the Klingon military, this citizen of the Empire dressed in flamboyant garments of bright flowing fabric and silver-filigreed leather. Her coppery hair fanned over her shoulders, loose and wild beneath her headband, and she had highlighted her brow ridges with glittery gold makeup. She carried unique weapons: an old-fashioned and overpowered blaster on one hip, an edged weapon on the other.

Buffy blinked. She recognized the edged weapon. She had only seen one twice. Once a hundred years before and the other two hundred years before. The name of the weapon had been told to her by Worf, the first person to show it to her. "A d'k tahg," she whispered to Jim. "I've only seen one twice in the time since Dawn became Millennial."

"I am Captain James T. Kirk," Jim said to the Klingon. "Your ship has strayed into Federation space. Starfleet is charged with maintaining those boundaries."

"I am Koronin, owner of Quundar. The Empire might disagree with you about the boundaries." She glanced to one side and snapped her fingers. "Starfleet!"

A monkey-sized pink primate dressed in miniature Starfleet uniform leaped into her arms. She twitched the leash attached to its collar, forcing its head up. It yelped and whimpered.

"You see," Koronin said, "how fond I am of Starfleet."

"I think you'd find the Enterprise a stronger opponent than a helpless pet," James Kirk said.

Dawn glanced at Jim as she felt the tense anger he was currently feeling.

Analyzing Koronin's dress, her physical form, her accent, Spock identified her as a member of the Rumaiy group, a political and ethnic minority of the Klingon home world. The highest class of Rumaiy often veiled themselves in public, and indeed Koronin carried a veil. But she wore it unfastened, draping from her headdress like a scarf, an announcement to all who could understand it that she rejected the customs of her people.

"Don't underestimate me, Federation captain," Koronin said. "Or my ship. You'd be making a serious mistake. Were I representing the government, I would invite you to depart our space, and I would enforce the invitation? But I represent myself. I have no interest in scarring my ship's pretty new paint in a battle."

"No one is suggesting battles," Kirk said.

"Excellent. Then neither of us will trouble the other. We may each explore the interesting construct before us. It is certainly large enough to permit two landing parties. What is your earth phrase?" Koronin said. "You are from earth, I believe, captain? A human being?" She chucked her primate pet roughly beneath the chin. "Ah, yes, I wish you 'happy hunting.'" She laughed.

Jim rose in protest as Koronin's transmission faded. "Damn! If she goes down there, armed, looking for who knows what ... anything could happen."

"Anything could happen when we go down there, captain," Spock said. "We know little more about the worldship people than she does."

"How did she get that ship?" Buffy asked. "The Empire certainly didn't give it to her—could she be undercover?"

"No undercover operative would advertise her position by flying a state-of-the-art military vessel," Spock said.

"Unless that's what they want us to think," Jim said.

"We cannot guess the labyrinthine plots of the most secret minds of the Klingon oligarchy," Spock said. "That way lies madness. We must wait, and observe, until we possess more information."

"Captain Kirk ..."

"Yes, Mr. Sulu?"

"Just a possibility, sir ... Maybe the same thing happened to Quundar as happened to the Enterprise—dragged off course, warp drive blown ... Maybe Koronin couldn't get out of Federation space if she wanted to. Maybe she's vamping till she can fix her ship."

"Vamping?"

Sulu blushed. "Sorry, sir—it's a word the people in Ame's company use to mean stalling till they're ready to start."

Buffy and Dawn glanced at each and laughed as Jim glanced at them. "Sorry, I don't know about the rest of Ame's company," Buffy said. "But Ame along with Dawn and I know the true origin of the word… Vampire."

"I see." Captain Kirk leaned back in his chair.

Spock created an interface between his tricorder and the ship's computer and began to analyze the data he had collected. The new people possessed unusual abilities. "Fascinating," he murmured.

"What is it, Spock?" Dawn said from the station next to his. She had created an interface between the computer and the translator to analyze the translator data.

"The scarlet being transmitted the images we see on our screen. It created the radio-frequency energy from its own body."

"Similar to what I do," Dawn said.

"Correct," Spock said.

"You've read our files," Buffy said as she walked over to Spock. "Do you believe that these beings could be somehow like Dawn."

"I can not deny the possibility," Spock answered. "But I can not say with certainty that is the case either."

"Mr. Spock," Jim said, "how soon can you prepare to return to the worldship? I want to explore it—I want to see what its outer structure is made of, and—"

Spock interrupted. "Captain, you have made dangerous assumptions."

"I have to agree with Spock," Buffy said. "This is not a planterary civilization we are going to be seeing behind a blind, that is unaware of our presence. They are a space faring race capable of some semblance of being warp capable."

"Commander Summers is correct," Spock said. "The beings may or may not now employ mechanical and electronic technology similar to ours, but they are certainly not preindustrial. They built the worldship. We cannot pick up our sampling devices and intrude upon their civilization. We have not been invited."

"We have, though, in a manner of speaking," Jim said.

"One time," Buffy said. "They haven't extended the invitation beyond that."

Kirk gazed at Buffy and Spock thoughtfully. "You two feel strongly about this, don't you?"

"Certainly not, captain," Spock said. "But I wish to point out that while we can study a pre-warp culture in any way—ethical or not, considerate or not—we choose, simply because the culture has no defense against us, we cannot presume to treat this culture in a cavalier fashion. On the evidence of their spacecraft, we may safely conclude that their technology is in advance of ours. I suggest that we mind our manners."

"What Spock said," Buffy agreed.