The Sarpeidon Chronicles Part 6

Chapter 6

Fan fiction only. No copyright infringement intended.

Thanks in large part to a mixture of compassionate badgering from its acting captain and some innovative tweaks from the engineering staff, the Wellfleet settled into orbit around Gamma Aurelius several hours ahead of schedule. To their relief, no other vessels, hostile or otherwise, were in the vicinity.

"The colony will be in sensor range momentarily, Admiral," Taylor's science officer informed her. "Commencing full scan for any and all humanoid life forms."

"Proceed. Report results as they come in."

"Understood." The young man paused, bent closer to his viewscreen, and scrutinized the printout. "Reading approximately ninety life forms. It's difficult to be certain-there's an unusual amount of magnetic interference disrupting my scans."

Taylor scowled. "If the Romulans have set up camp there, they've no doubt brought some cloaking technology with them. But only ninety? I expected more."

"Perhaps many, if not all, of the original colonists have already left the planet," Adonia suggested. Her gaze never left her own navigational panel. "There may be other vessels like the Kraken-drifting."

"Hail them. Use a non-Starfleet frequency. Let them think we're a commercial vessel, stopping by to offer supplies."

The Wellfleet's communications officer nodded, punched a few keys, then shook her head. "They do not respond, Admiral. Communications are apparently disabled."

"Not exactly surprising. We'll beam down a security team and take a look for ourselves." Taylor turned to Adonia. "Am I correct, Lieutenant, in assuming you would not object to leading the landing party?"

Adonia's face colored as she got up from her station. "Indeed I would not, Admiral."

"Go, then. Take a security team and see if you can aid any remaining colonists. Use of force is permitted as necessary."

"Yes, Admiral." Crossing the bridge, Adonia summoned the turbolift and stepped into it wearing a resolute expression Taylor remembered seeing often on the bridge of another ship long ago. If the current situation hadn't been so grave, she might have given in to a small, wistful smile of her own.

They materialized some distance away from the colony. When the same interference prevented accurate tricorder scans there are well, Adonia motioned for the fifteen members of her team to fan out and approach the outlying structures from behind. Though vegetation was sparse, a few scattered clumps of trees and scrub would provide intermittent cover as they moved forward.

"We will advance in pairs, phasers on stun," she ordered. "Keep communications open at all times. Alert the rest of the team the moment you discover anything of significance." Her charges signaled their understanding and dispersed, with the exception of Ensign Doyle, the six-foot, ruddy-cheeked guard who would accompany her.

"Sure is quiet," he observed when they had drawn close enough to see the roofs of the colony's outermost structures peeking above the ragged treeline.

Adonia had been thinking the same thing: aside from the distant buzz of the native insects and the rustle of leaves in the mild breeze, there really was nothing. Not the clink of a tool, the scrape of a footstep, or the murmur of a single voice.

"The colonists may be imprisoned or disabled in some way. We must proceed with extreme caution."

"Sounds about right to me."

They soon reached the first of the outlying structures, a simple wooden hut that appeared to serve as a kind of storage facility. The double doors were held shut with a primitive iron clasp.

"Let's open it," Adonia said. "Cover me."

Doyle moved into a protective stance while she wrenched open the shed. A moment later, they jumped back as an avalanche of purple spilled out and nearly engulfed them.

"Fruit," Adonia said in wonder, picking up one of the brightly colored, pulpy spheres. A sickly sweet odor wafted from the heap that had buried them up to the ankles. "Bushels of them."

"I guess they were saving them for the winter," Doyle observed, keeping his phaser at the ready.

"Impossible. Gamma Aurelius does not experience winter as Terrans know it. There is no point in storing this produce at all. It's beginning to rot." She wrinkled her nose and flung the fruit to the ground. "Let us move on."

They made their way past three more rough-hewn structures, all of which had been filled with baskets of the same odd harvest, all of it now left to decay. Of either colonists or Romulans they found no sign.

Suddenly Adonia's communicator trilled. "Lieutenant, we've found them! You'd better come quickly."

"Acknowledged. On our way." Adonia noted the coordinates of the officer who had summoned her and took off at a run. She found the rest of her officers gathered at the entrance of a barn-like structure, peering into the shadowed interior. They moved aside so she could see inside, but stopped just short of giving her full access.

"I would advise extreme caution, Lieutenant," a woman said, lightly touching Adonia's sleeve to hold her back. "Something's terribly wrong."

Despite years of Starfleet training and a Vulcan temperament, for a moment Adonia found herself too shocked to speak. During the long voyage to Gamma Aurelius, her mind had jumped ahead to dozens of possible scenarios that might await her there. Most of them were unpleasant and some had been downright grisly. None of them, however, had involved what she saw now: rows and rows of desperately ill Romulan males of varying ages, stretched out across every available centimeter of floor space. Their bloated faces were covered with swollen green blotches, and their bodies trembled and writhed under mounds of coarse blankets.

She noticed, however, that neither Selyk nor Therov lay among them.

Seeing her, one of them struggled to sit up, moaning with the effort.

"You," he rasped, extending a shaky finger toward her. "You are in command?"

Adonia cleared her throat. "Yes," she said.

"Then I direct my entreaty directly to you. We surrender ourselves to the Federation. I ask only that we be given whatever medical attention you can offer to prisoners, however rudimentary. I request this act of mercy on behalf of my men. As you can see, they are suffering."

"I promise you that we will provide any and all treatments at our disposal. However, we must first know the nature of your illness."

The Romulan winced as if to fight off a spasm of agony. "I'm afraid I can offer no enlightenment on that subject," he said at last. "Some virus native to this world, perhaps, or some physiological incompatibility between our metabolisms and the environment. It seems to have had no effect on the Terrans who settled here first." Briefly, he bared his teeth. Adonia couldn't tell whether he was offering her a sneer or a smile. "You might wish to be vigilant of your own health, Lieutenant-you are Vulcan, I assume."

"I am only one-quarter Vulcan, so let us hope I will be spared your affliction. At the moment, I am more interested in these Terrans you spoke of. Where are they now?"

This time, there could be no question that his expression was one of utter disdain. "I would have thought it obvious, Lieutenant, that merely focusing my attention on you now is taxing my remaining strength to its limits. What has transpired beyond these walls for the past week or more, I could not say."

"Clearly, someone has been caring for them," the female security officer noted. "Otherwise, given the shape they're in, most of them would be dead by now."

"Most of us would prefer to be dead," the Romulan snapped. "As usual, the Terrans' misguided sympathy has disgraced us all. Their species never learns from their mistakes."

Adonia shook her head and motioned to the two officers nearest her. "Notify the ship that we will need a bio-containment field, then arrange to beam the patients directly to sickbay. The rest of us will search the outlying buildings for any remaining colonists."

"At least your brother wasn't among the sick ones," Doyle said hopefully as they crossed the encampment and headed toward the next cluster of buildings. They had to step over still more purple fruit, which lay scattered over the ground.

"That is small comfort at best." Adonia's jaw was rigid. "He may not have survived the illness or the invasion. It would have been very much like him to do something improvident."

Doyle looked sympathetic. "Whatever's happened, we'll find out soon enough."

Suddenly, they heard a scraping sound coming from one of the coarse shelters to their right. Instinctively, they dropped into a defensive posture, training their phasers on the wooden door as it slowly creaked open.

Adonia stared, incredulous, as Jarrod and Leila suddenly emerged from the cabin. Each of them carried a stack of towels and an earthen jug of water.

If anything, her brother looked even more astounded than she was. "Adonia! I don't believe it!"

"We thought you required assistance," she said, lowering her phaser and raising an eyebrow instead. "Apparently we were mistaken. You are looking remarkably well, unlike the occupants of the structure we just visited."

He and Leila exchanged a glance. "Yes, they are having a rougher time of it than we are. Still, we're doing what we can to look after them. We haven't lost one yet."

All around the compound, windows and doors began to open, the colonists emerging to greet their rescuers with cheers and handshakes. Quickly Adonia relayed this positive development to the Wellfleet, then looked from Jarrod to Leila with growing curiosity. "You were not concerned that you were risking your own health to tend to the Romulans? Even they have no idea what has befallen them."

"We know because we engineered their illness. Or, rather, Leila did-I just assisted her. It's all because of those juicy Aurelian plums you see lying around everywhere. They're a special strain, a little treat Leila developed just for the Romulans. All it took was a few genetic tweaks to an existing prototype, and we had an entire grove full of perfect little time bombs. The Romulans find them utterly addictive; at the same time, they contain an acid that reacts with copper-based blood. The result is severe gastrointestinal distress and the gradual onset of anemia. Within a week, most of them were too weak to do anything more than curse at us."

"My friend Elias did try to relay a message that we had regained control of the colony," Leila said. "Unfortunately, we couldn't repair the communications unit. Selyk destroyed it personally, and he did a very thorough job."

Adonia frowned at the mention of Selyk. "I must tell you frankly that your safety was not Starfleet's only concern in this instance. The Wellfleet has been charged with the recovery of Therov and Selyk, along with any escaped prisoners who may be traveling with them. May I inquire-"

Jarrod pointed into the distance. "Selyk is in the last cabin on the right, not much better off than his friends in the barn. We thought it best to keep him isolated. He's a bastard when he's ill-almost as bad as when he isn't."

"Elias is with him right now," Leila said. "We try to keep someone with him at all times."

Quickly Adonia dispatched two security guards in the direction her brother had indicated. Her voice caught a bit when she made the next inevitable inquiry. "...And Therov?"

"Well...finding him is going to be a bit trickier. At first, we were hoping that the fruit would have the same effect on his body chemistry, but we were wrong. He had a few stomach pains, but he recovered much more rapidly than the others. One night, he sneaked off into the woods, and we haven't seen him since. It's possible he got off the planet, since the last of his mercenaries disappeared around the same time. We figure they had a few small crafts hidden in the woods all along."

Adonia nodded. "Our long-range sensors are scanning for any unregistered vessels in the area. If they are still within range, we should be able to take them into custody. We will also initiate a full-scale search of the less inhabited areas of the planet."

"You can expect to run into some difficulties there. Romulan High Command has disavowed any connection with them for obvious reasons, but I'd be surprised if they sent them into the Neutral Zone empty-handed."

"In fact, we did encounter some difficulty with our scanners. That would tend to support your conjecture." Excusing herself, she stepped away for a brief exchange with the Wellfleet. "The ship is preparing a secure area to receive the afflicted Romulans," she reported when she came back. "I should go and assist my team in preparing them for transport."

"Why don't I go on ahead?" Leila offered. "I've been tending them all this time, after all-I know more about their condition than anyone. Besides, I'm sure you two have plenty to catch up on."

"We'll be there in a minute," Jarrod promised as she walked away.

"I trust you still find your association with Miss Kalomi rewarding?" Adonia asked when they were alone.

"Never mind that." Her brother waved the question away. "I heard about the trouble at the Embassy. What's happening with Father?"

"The way it looks now, he will most likely be convicted." Adonia sighed. "Much as it pains me to admit it, I doubt there is anything we can do."

"I've had some disturbing reports from your jailers, Ambassador." Hands clasped behind his back, Naj Ahkafr stood in the middle of Spock's cell and surveyed the sparse furnishings. "They fear you're going mad. Apparently you talk to your chess set at the most inopportune times."

Spock looked up from his desk. The chess set in question sat to his right, the pieces arranged as if he had been playing a game against himself. "I can assure you that my mental faculties are unimpaired. It was my understanding that as long as I committed no infractions while in custody, I could occupy myself as I chose."

"Yes, yes, you've been a model prisoner. Vulcans always are." The prosecutor unclasped his hands and shook his head impatiently. "I haven't come here to reprimand you."

"Why have you come, then? Surely T'Rhan should be present as well."

"I didn't want to disturb her. She's hard at work, preparing her summation to the Arbiter. It's sure to be a wasted effort, but at least she'll have the satisfaction of knowing that she did everything she could for you. It's the only consolation one can derive after representing a client who is so obviously guilty."

"Then you have come to offer me a plea bargain."

"In a way. It's my job to make sure you are convicted, Ambassador. I think we both agree that my chances are good to excellent."

"I am in no position to disagree."

"I'm glad you realize that. You've lost everything here-your reputation, your home, and any hope of a pardon. Starfleet looks askance on traitors, however sterling their previous record might be. If anything, they'll want to make an example of you. I plan to enable them to do precisely that."

"Understandable." Spock steepled his fingers. "Your zeal on behalf of the Federation is a matter of record...as is the fact that you have suffered great personal loss because of the Romulans."

"Yes, most everyone knows that, especially since T'Rhan made a production of it. It's an aspect of my past I dwell on no more than I must, but there is no denying that the Federation pulled me and my family almost literally from the ashes of our former world. They fed us, clothed us, educated us, gave me not only a means of supporting myself but a lifelong career. The Federation is long on mercy; some might say their helping hands are spread too wide. It wasn't easy to abandon my world, ruined though it might have been, and become a man without a planet. Still, I had a choice: myself and my family or my people. It's a decision few are ever called on to make, but I did."

"I see."

Ahkafr paced a bit, then stopped. "So, speaking of difficult decisions...What would you do to be free of this predicament you find yourself in?"

"You have already stated that any such hope on my part would be futile. Therefore, I can think of no adequate response to that question."

"That's quite true-providing we both play by the usual tedious rules. You've probably never bent one in your life, have you? "

Spock raised a chess piece and turned it slowly over in his fingers. "In general, I prefer a traditional approach to most matters."

"Well, then-perhaps I'll simply leave you to imagine what it might be like to take a different path, especially when there is only one that can lead you back to the light."

Ahkafr tapped on the wall com to summon the guard.

She paused to take a deep breath before walking through the front door of his apartment.

"Are you troubled by regret?" Sumarr asked as he stepped in behind her.

Lidia swallowed. "No."

"That is an overstatement. You are apprehensive about your parents' reaction."

"Of course I am. It shames me to know that I am making things even more difficult for my mother."

"Given all that has transpired in your household, I suppose that is inevitable to some degree. However, now is not the time for self-recrimination. You are a grown woman who must make her own decisions. And so you have."

"I know. You're right."

Sumarr's eyes became unusually bright for a moment. "I trust that Selyk's former room will prove a suitable arrangement. All his things have been removed; he never kept many possessions to begin with."

Turning, Lidia touched his face. "You still miss him terribly."

"I suppose I always will. But you have shown me that life can take some unexpected turns. For that I am more grateful than you know."

"I do know."

He covered her hand with his own. "You are trembling."

"Does that surprise you?" She laughed uneasily. "Never mind. I'll be all right. Will you give me some time?"

"Of course."

He released her, and she moved quickly past him. Soon she disappeared into what had once been Selyk's room.