The Bridge: Act IV
The Klingon culture did not lend itself to a fondness for thorough forensic investigation. If Spock had not taken the opportunity to retrieve the rokeg blood pie and gagh that Motar and Torpoc had argued over earlier in the meal, he was certain that the truth of the murder would be left to blood-soaked sands of the rock garden where Diana and Motar had engaged in combat.
Spock, of course, was no stranger to such honor-bound and ritual combat. Having gone through pon farr himself, he had once engaged in koon-ut-kal-if-fee and fought for a mate, long before his commission aboard the Enterprise or his relationship with Nyota. For a Vulcan, such a torrent of emotion was akin to madness: possession and rage swirled into a need for something completely intangible.
Klingons illogically chose to exist in such an emotional space, and therefore did not scrutinize their surroundings nearly to Spock's satisfaction. Klingons were among the greatest warriors in the galaxy, but not the most adept at subterfuge or investigation. As their focus had been on the combat unfolding before them, he had been given ample time to run several analyses on the two plates of food while Diana fought for her honor, and presumably any attempt at peace.
The results would take time to process and finalize, so he had focused his attention on the battle as Diana took a slice to her arm. Nyota gasped beside him, but had followed it up with a rousing cry of:
"Kick his ass, Diana!"
When Spock caught her eye, he simply quirked his eyebrow in amusement at her.
Bat'leths clashed once more, and Motar roared in pain ahead of them. Spock's attention was pulled back to the duel.
At the same time that Diana noted the change in Motar's technique, so did Spock.
"Tal shaya…" He muttered, recognizing the ancient Vulcan form of martial arts. As Motar continued to fight, clearly on the defensive, Spock's eyebrow quirked even higher.
Nyota recognized the words, but as she was not a tactical expert, he was not surprised when she turned to face him. "Vulcan martial arts? Why would a Klingon utilize Vulcan techniques?"
Spock's brow furrowed as Diana executed a maneuver to switch her grip. "That particular style of martial combat is not exclusive to the Vulcan people. I fear that there is greater subterfuge at work than we initially theorized." Diana's next blow struck across Motar's broad chest. The blow would have barely scratched a Klingon.
When Diana's bat'leth came away tinged with green flecks, unnoticed by the crowd but not by Spock's more scrutinous gaze, he felt the various clues slide into place, as if in a game of kal-toh, where perfect harmonyhad been achieved.
He now understood what had happened to the ambassador, and he had a plausible explanation as to the motive as well.
As Diana recognized Motar's true identity as well, holding her bat'leth to the crowd, Spock was watching the fallen man. A Romulan. A spy. An assassin. Now that he had been discovered, he would…
He would not be taken alive. Spock noticed Motar's hand move towards his mouth too late. He fought to warn her, but his shouts were too late.
Now, as he stood alongside Colonel Worf and Diana, they had lost their opportunity to ask the identity of the Romulan.
Gorkon approached them, Kor right alongside him looking quite irate. Given that he did not possess the same physical intimidation as his fellow ambassadors, his emotional response was more than adequate to command respect regardless.
"A Romulan. I fought with Motar on Phaedus IV. How could he possibly be a Romulan?" Kor's perplexity was understandable, but his anger was misdirected. He was still addressing Diana and not the remaining ambassadors of the Klingon delegation.
"I believe that I can offer an explanation, Commander." Spock said, taking a careful step to place himself between the Klingons and Diana. Without taking his eyes off of Kor, he knelt down on the other side of Motar before pulling his tricorder. "I believe that this Romulan spy is responsible for the death of Commander Torpoc and manufactured this situation so that he could throw suspicion off of himself."
"Impossible!" Kor said, skeptical and incensed. "Why would he do such a thing? Motar has earned his honor in many battles. He and Torpoc were in negotiations before! With the Ferengi! With the Orion Syndicate!"
Diana spoke up next. The Orion Syndicate had been a point of interest for her since their return from Verex III. "The Orion Syndicate that sold Torpoc slaves." She reminded them.
Kor's expression reflected a moment of hesitation.
Spock chose to press that advantage. "Was the Orion Syndicate less affable towards Torpoc upon his last trip to Verex III?"
"We had an… incident the last time Torpoc and Motar went to the Syndicate. They wished for a great deal more in currency for the next trade."
Colonel Worf replied with a growl. "Like the Ferengi."
Nyota had joined them, no longer content to remain on the sidelines. "Since when did the Klingons negotiate with the Ferengi?"
Worf frowned, turning to face her. "We are not. But, we have… attempted to secure an agreement for some of the Ferengi's more advanced technology. The negotiations broke down when they killed one of our merchants."
Spock stood, facing the Colonel to ensure his full cooperation and attention. He recalled a novel that he had read in his early Starfleet Academy days. In the time leading up to Cold War between the Federation and the Klingons, it had been important to understand how spies operated. In such courses, his human professor focused on both the reality of tactics and the "drama" of the spy game. As he had grown, Spock had learned that there was as much value in the theatre as the facts.
"This has occurred before? A Klingon delegate killed while negotiating with potential allies?"
Gorkon shrugged it off. He was such a calm man compared to his fellow delegates. In Spock's estimation, that meant he was more calculating than he wished to reveal. "Klingons intimidate weaker species. We are superior, and that makes us potential targets for such dishonorable action."
He had not stated overtly, but suggested that the Ferengi had died similarly. And Worf had drawn the unspoken conclusion that the Orion Syndicate had had a similar scenario.
"An old earth philosophy dictates that 'Once is chance, twice is happenstance, and three times is enemy action.' In the dealings with the Syndicate and the Ferengi, was a member of their rival delegation found guilty by…" Spock motioned to the sand around him. "Similar investigative means?"
Kor considered his words carefully before he finally offered, his anger muted now. He seemed to understand Spock's inference and knew that whatever he was about to say would confirm that. "Yes. The two Commanders were killed, and…" Kor paused, glancing down at the body as the realization struck him. "Motar stood up to fight the other delegates in honorable combat when they denied any involvement. Because it is impossible for a Klingon to poison another one. To do so would be a great dishonor to both parties. A Klingon who is killed by poison is dishonored, his soul sent to Grethor until another warrior dedicates a great victory in his name. And the poisoner loses his honor for choosing not to kill with honor or valor."
While Diana had clearly taken Kor's nervousness around her as a sign of hostility, one she had voiced during the banquet, Spock had seen it for what it was: Kor was a Klingon who believed in his old traditions, the old houses. An alliance with the Federation would have been seen as highly controversial and could disrupt the tumultuous relationships between the Great Houses. But, he was not opposed to it. Only cautious.
"Then, in this case, we have established a pattern in Motar's actions." Spock remarked. He held up his tricorder, reading the results as the ambassadors, surprisingly, remained quiet. "I believe I now have a theory as to what has occurred here, but I am afraid it may only render more questions than answers."
Diana finally rose to her feet at the suggestion of a solution to the immediate problem. "Then, let's hear what you have been able to discern, Commander Spock. I, for one, would like to reaffirm that we have come to this negotiation by honest means, and would not dishonor our potential allies by murder."
He could tell her words were for the benefit of the delegation, not the two Federation officers present with her. Nevertheless, he appreciated the sentiment.
"I took samples of both the platter of gagh and the Rokeg blood pie that Commander Torpoc had been eating shortly before his death. He was poisoned with Felodesine, an incredibly potent drug that Starfleet Medical has virtually no research on." Spock motioned to his tricorder to show the results to any of the ambassadors who wished to view it. Kor took him up on the offer, walking over and gripping it with both hands so he could read the results as Spock continued. "Felodesine works similarly to arsenic on humans and other various iron-based species. However, as Klingons possess less oxygen in their bloodstream than humans and do not produce the enzyme pyruvate dehydrogenase, arsenic would not work to bind the enzyme and cause quick death. However, Felodesine does allow for a similar effect, which causes significant hemorrhaging of the blood through any available orifice." Spock took his tricorder back before he turned to Nyota, who had picked up the nearly empty vial in Motar's limp hand. "In copper-based lifeforms, it prevents oxygenation of the blood, much like cyanide. Therefore, it causes nearly instantaneous death for Vulcans and Romulans."
Nyota held up the vial, glancing up at Spock with visible concern. He had not meant to alarm her, but he knew that she would immediately be concerned that he had been exposed.
"As Vulcans are vegetarians," Spock said to both allay Nyota's fears and to continue his explanation, "I would not have eaten gagh and therefore was not at risk for exposure. Nor could I give away Motar's ruse."
"But, how would he poison Torpoc without poisoning anyone else?" Gorkon finally asked. "And why kill him in particular?"
"I do not believe he was the primary target." Spock glanced over at Diana, who was watching him with rapt attention. "I believe the end result, Ambassador, was to have you suffer the same fate as Orion and Ferengi merchants before."
"He poisoned Torpoc to throw suspicion on the Federation, then would challenge me. Only, I am a better combatant than he is." Diana nodded, considering the theory. "He was quite a skilled combatant. I can see how anyone else would fall to him. He had no way of knowing I was… above average."
"But, going back to Governor Gorkon's point," Nyota said, holding up the vial for emphasis. "How did he poison Torpoc without poisoning the rest of us?"
"He created a diversion." Spock simply replied. "During the banquet, he began to argue with Torpoc over who would eat the rest of the gagh. As the serpent worms are also iron-based, he could not risk poisoning the platter too soon, or they would have stopped moving."
"And no one eats dead gagh." Kor remarked, finally stepping away again. There was no anger left in him, it seemed. Only a dark, deep worry. Spock's theory had shaken him to his core. The notion that a Romulan spy had been so close to vital negotiations for so long would certainly not sit well.
"Precisely." Spock said in agreement. "I believe that Diana may have unintentionally played into his hands by providing the distraction of the Rokeg blood pie. While Torpoc was arguing with her, Motar could have slipped the feledosine into the plate just before Torpoc's last few bites. I have checked the blood pie as well, and the poison was not present. Then, he challenged the ambassador to create a sense of tension and that Diana was 'dishonorable' while allowing the poison to work. I believe that this man is one of the Tal Shiar, the Romulan secret police, and as such, they have been working to isolate you from potential allies while they turn to attack you."
Silence fell as Spock allowed the full breadth of the situation to settle with the ambassadors. By now, many of the warriors had shooed off the remainder of the colonists, but Spock could see young Mogh watching intently. His eyes were still on Motar's body, as if he could understand the great game of spycraft just in the dead man's surgically crafted forehead ridges.
Gorkon seemed genuinely displeased, but had nothing to offer but a solemn oath in Klingon.
It was Commander Kor who spoke up. In hindsight, it was logical that he would be the one to take a stand. As a man of honor and great tradition, this was highly unfortunate and distasteful.
"We cannot craft any Peace Accords today. The Khitomer Accords will not be drafted today, nor will they be signed tomorrow." Kor finally spoke, dark and foreboding, but full of gravitas that suggested nothing but respect for them. He was not speaking to Spock, either. He had turned to face Diana. "This…. Romulan petaQ has sullied the Great Houses of Qo'nos. The Houses will be in shambles, and most of all, any peace accords drawn up today will be seen as anything but honorable given the death of one of our own."
"No, please do not give up on peace. It is achievable. We can be allies, you do not have to leave things this way." Diana's emotional state was quite overt. She, at times, could suppress her emotions like any Vulcan, but he knew her to be as emotional and vibrant as Nyota. In this moment, he could feel the pain in her heart as if it were his own.
"But, they must, Ambassador Prince." Kor finally barked, his voice brooking no argument. "If the Romulans have eyes and ears everywhere, then we cannot help the Federation until we help ourselves. I will not see the great Klingon Empire turn on itself. Without honest agreement between the houses, our honor would not match your own." It was clear that even though Spock could sense his distrust, he could also sense… respect for Diana. He was aware that the Federation had come to their negotiations honestly.
"Perhaps we have a foundation, Ambassador." Kor relented.
"And tomorrow, we will build a bridge. When you are ready." Diana said with a sad smile before Kor turned to leave. Gorkon followed him, and soon, even Colonel Worf left them to retrieve his son.
The three of them were alone on the courtyard, blood-soaked sand and a spy beneath them.
"Perhaps it was never possible to succeed, with so many deceptions layered upon one another." Spock offered, not sure who he was attempting to comfort. He reluctantly realized he was trying to comfort himself as much as the others.
Diana sighed, then turned to look at Spock. "Perhaps not. And perhaps, I have been so consumed with seeing time as my enemy that I have forgotten one of the greatest lessons."
"What's that?" Nyota asked beside him.
"Not even Rome was built in a day." Diana replied. After a moment, she took hold of the bat'leth she had left on the ground after the fight and followed after Colonel Worf to return the heirloom.
Spock watched her curiously, ever impressed by her persistence.
When he felt Nyota's arm slip around his, he allowed himself a moment of honest comfort in her touch. Her voice beside him was a soothing caress to the senses. "She's right not to give up. I just hope she figures out the difference between being patient and being reluctant."
"I believe she has already determined that." He could tell that Nyota did not only refer to the negotiations, but rather to Diana's relationship with the captain. If she kept him at arm's' length, it would do neither of them any benefit. She had already heard how he felt on the subject…. Spock glanced down at her. "But, perhaps she only needs to learn what she gains from learning that balance."
Something he refused to acknowledge as instinct or intuition but nevertheless just as persistent told him… Jim would need her. More than perhaps he had ever needed anyone before.
Even if he retained his captaincy. Especially, if he didn't.
The Admirals had been in deliberation for the better part of the day, and it was beginning to test even Jim's battle-worn patience. As the Admirals deciding what to do with him technically meant the hearing was still in session, he couldn't leave the Starfleet Command building, nor could he leave that floor.
So, the best he could do was get his peace and quiet where he could: An empty briefing room with a view that looked towards the Golden Gate Bridge and past the city below him. It had been years since he'd been grounded like this. To think that after three years in deep space, he had thought he needed Earth to remind him of what to do with his life.
Which was why it shocked the hell out of him that he wasn't nearly as concerned about losing the Enterprise as he thought he would have been. Not to misunderstand, Jim was worried as hell that his ship and his crew might be taken from him, but at least he had to hope Spock would keep the command.
But, he was more worried about what that would mean for his friends… for Diana.
If he wasn't a captain on the Enterprise, how could he justify spending time with Diana if she wasn't ready for a relationship?
Maybe I can be her secretary, He thought idly as he finished the glass of water in his hand and watched a few shuttles streak by. I'm sure there's some karmic justice in that…
Jim scoffed to himself, hearing the voice of the old generals from the War Council another life away, only with Starfleet uniforms.
Who is this man, Ambassador?
He's my secretary?
A secretary who knows advanced Federation ship tactics?
He's a…. Very good secretary.
The thought kept him so amused, Jim missed hearing anyone else walk into the briefing room until the footsteps were nearly to him. He'd expected Bones, there to offer some moral support.
Instead, a white hand held a drink out in front of him, something amber-colored and most likely not regulation.
"Here. For your edge." Jaylah simply said as he turned to look at her and the outstretched drink.
She had to know that for a Starfleet captain to be caught drinking on-duty wouldn't help his case, but at the slight smile on her face… Jim didn't care.
Of all the people to come see him right now, the woman whose rescue had been at the center of his hearing had arrived with a glass of - Jim took a sip - scotch in tow. With a grateful smile, he drained the glass before moving over to the briefing table to set it down.
"I appreciate the gesture, but you didn't have to come." He finally said, turning to face her.
Jaylah was somewhat of an enigma to him. He'd seen her strength countless times on Altamid, but she kept her vulnerabilities well in check. Aside from the brief moments where he saw the fear that Edison's cruelty had instilled in her, Jaylah was as solid as a rock. She was brilliant, charismatic and he knew she'd be an asset to any ship lucky enough to have her. He'd read her dossier before formally putting in for the commission at Kent's insistence. She had already put holotechnology research decades ahead of where it had been. As his chief navigator, he would have a switch hitter on the bridge to help support Scotty, much like Chekov had been.
Provided he was still on the bridge tomorrow.
"We are all worried about you, James T." Jaylah finally said as her way of explanation. "But, I am the reason you are in trouble." She shifted from one foot to the other, then picked at a piece of lint on her gold uniform.
He watched her for a long moment, quietly amused by her. She was worried about him, maybe even felt a little guilty, but she had no reason to be.
Reaching out, Jim rested a hand on her shoulder to pull her attention away from the lint and back to him. "Hey. You didn't do anything wrong, and I don't regret for a second getting you out of there. I promised we'd look out for you, and I meant it. You're part of my crew. Even if you weren't, Diana was right to suggest we take out the outpost from the inside." He had a feeling there was a greater plan in the works at Starfleet, but he didn't feel comfortable voicing that to anyone yet… not even Diana.
"Then why don't your admirals see that? Why do they question everything and try to make this your fault?" Jaylah blurted out, motioning to the closed doors down the hall.
Jim laughed a bit, crossing his arms over his chest and shaking his head. He'd asked himself the same questions for hours now. "If I knew that, I'd be an admiral. But, I may not even be a captain when this is over."
"Then they are fools." She simply said, allowing no room for argument.
Jim cast another glance her way. He reminded her of one of the cats his mom had had when he was a kid. One minute, she was placid and relaxed, and the next she was ready to pounce on whatever rodent happened across her path. She was setting up for the pounce, it seemed.
"Look, I came to Starfleet because of you and Montgomery Scotty. You said it was a good place to be, to be better. To learn how to help people. And if they take your ship because you help people, then…" Jaylah took a deep breath, faltering for a moment. "Then… I go where you go, James T. You and Montgomery Scotty, you are… my crew."
He knew what that word meant to her. He'd heard Scotty's impassioned speech to her, but he'd never heard Jaylah use it quite so… sincerely.
A true smile graced his features at the admission from her. He didn't know what he'd done to deserve her affection, but he was beyond grateful. "Thank you, Jaylah." He leaned forward a bit, lowering his voice to give the air that he was being conspiratorial. "And you're kind of like a little sister, so I appreciate the pep talk."
Jaylah scoffed, taking a step back. "I am not little!"
Jim chuckled, but any attempt at an explanation was cut off by someone else entering the briefing room.
Bones looked every bit the storm cloud as he stepped in, brow furrowed and clearly worried. "Jim. They're looking for you."
Whiskey or no, Jim was instantly sobered by the honest concern in his best friend's voice. Times like this, he really wished for Spock's steadying presence. Then again, the last time Jim had lost his command had been because SPock had ratted him out, so… maybe he was better off with Diana.
"Time to face the music." Jim simply remarked, sending Bones a tight smile before he walked past both his ensign and chief medical officer. For now, at least, they were still his crew.
He'd faced inquiries and hearings before, and he'd never had anyone else to rely on except himself and his crew. This time, he found himself wishing he could see Diana's smile, that look in her eye when she was about to take the room by storm. He knew she would have had words of wisdom that would have flowed from her lips like wine from a bottle.
He had a feeling that vintage was working better on the Klingons than it would for Jim right now.
"Jim, if this doesn't go well - " Bones began as he sidled up beside him.
He cut him off with a quick clap on his shoulder. "Don't, Bones. It'll be fine. No matter what, I'll land on my feet." It was part bravado and part false optimism so that he could keep the ever-worrying doctor from doing so. Jim squeezed his shoulder one last time as they reached the door, then pulled away so he could firmly slip his hat back on his head.
Without much aplomb, Jim was led back into the Admiralty Board's meeting room and back to the risen area where he'd testified hours before. He was careful to stand at attention, but he spent a brief moment scanning the faces in the room again. No one looked to be giving him any indication of how they had voted, one way or the other.
Which meant the only one who could give him the answer was the Fleet Admiral.
The gavel struck with an echo through the room. Jim kept his eyes on the Fleet Admiral even as the Bolian stood, her eyes watching Jim with a level of piercing scrutiny he'd started to grow accustomed to in the hearings.
"James Tiberius Kirk, you have been accused of unauthorized use of a Federation vessel for the purposes of espionage and trespass; the reckless endangerment of a Federation ambassador; disobeying a direct order from Commodore Paris; and, dereliction of duty to your five-year deep space mission with the U.S.S. Enterprise." The Fleet Admiral rattled off the charges with ease. He wasn't sure if she was trying to get him to squirm under the pressure, but it would take a lot more than that. Besides, the decision had been made. No use churning on it now.
"Our decision was not an easy one," She continued. "Your conduct regarding this incident, while done for admirable reasons, was in direct opposition to the orders you received. You did not have authority to speak for the Federation in this event, yet your own records show that you empowered Ambassador Prince to speak on Starfleet's behalf.
"You ask the Admiralty Board to see past your prior actions on your record and to instead look to your principles and your motivations. But, a Starfleet captain does not operate in a silo. His or her actions create ripples throughout the galaxy, throughout every facet of both Federation politics and galaxy safety." Jim bit the inside of his cheek to keep from objecting. He had a feeling he wouldn't like what he was about to hear.
"The fact is, unlike your actions on Nibiru, you were not reckless. You were calculated. You obtained information from Commodore Paris in order to plan a mission to a hostile territory with only a Federation Ambassador and purposely kept your crew in the dark as to your intentions. Such behavior indicates that you still do not respect for your chain of command…" The other shoe was about to drop. Jim could feel it.
"Only if the chain of command does not respect your crew." The Fleet Admiral's tone shifted. She lost her severe edge, and it began to slowly feel less like a lecture as she continued. "Your actions display a sense of compassion and responsibility to your crew, both past, present and future, that cannot be ignored. Given your actions leading up to, then after the rescue, it is clear that you acted out of concern that a crewmember was in mortal danger. In doing so, you also rescued thousands of displaced people from various Federation allies and membership worlds alike.
"After much careful deliberation, the Admiralty Board has decided to issue a formal reprimand to Ambassador Prince for asking a Starfleet captain to break protocol, but we ultimately feel that your reasoning was sound given the circumstances. Such an action as this cannot happen again, Captain Kirk." The Fleet Admiral paused as the verdict sank in.
Jim was visibly relieved. He exhaled, unaware he'd begun to hold his breath, then shook his head for a moment in disbelief before he regained his composure. "Thank you, Admirals. Thank you all - "
"Please understand that this was not a popular decision. The board was nearly split down the middle. Consider yourself on notice, and any adverse reactions that this incident have on galactic politics will only make things more difficult for your crew when you are beyond Starfleet's home base. You have no chances left. Another unauthorized deviation such as this one, and we will be forced to act." The Fleet Admiral drove the gavel back down two times, then relented. "This hearing is adjourned."
Jim could feel the tension leave his body as if he'd just been doused in cold water. He took another deep breath, pulling his hat off and tucking it under his arm as he ran a hand through his hair, trying to relax and drink in the fact that he was still captain.
When he glanced back up at the admirals, he caught sight of Admirals Kent and Cale exchanging a few words before the woman turned to leave. She seemed smug for some reason.
Jim crossed the length of the room to catch Conner's eye, then reached a hand out to shake. "Sir, I just want to thank you for your support and guidance - "
"Save it." Conner said, turning to face him. That feeling that Jim had somehow lost an ally came back in full force as the admiral stared him down.
"I'm just saying, I know it would have been difficult to convince the other admirals to keep me enlisted - "
"Son, I didn't vote to keep you on your ship." Conner said abruptly. "I didn't save your career. Cale did."
Jim narrowly avoided looking like the rug had been pulled out from under him. "Excuse me?" He took a second to think it over. "I did what you asked - "
"You don't have friends here, Jim." Conner said softly. There was something… off in his tone. It didn't feel genuine, but he couldn't understand why. Conner glanced over Jim's shoulder, but if he was watching someone, he couldn't see who. "Think very hard before you pull another stunt like this. It might cost your career."
As Admiral Kent abruptly walked past him, Jim turned to watch him, stunned.
Something was very amiss within Starfleet.
Night had fallen on Khitomer. With it, the hopes for peace were put to rest for the day.
After returning Worf's bat'leth and saying her goodbyes, Diana found herself wandering the main grounds of the Khitomer outpost, quite deflated. To be the bridge to a greater understanding between all men, Amazons had to train and study, to know instinct and subtle notes in someone's voice.
In the Romulan Tal Shiar, Diana had met her match. And in this skirmish, she had gained an inch, not the mile she had hoped for.
"You look down, Diana. Perhaps now you understand why it pains me so to see you in such futile struggles with mere mortals." Ares had appeared in the darkness, leaning casually against one of the rustic Klingon walls. His attire was Federation ambassadorial like Diana's, but it was clearly a ruse.
She inhaled deeply, forcing herself to keep her anger in check before she turned to face him completely. "You could have stopped all of this." She said simply, disgust plain in her voice. "At any moment leading up to the banquet, you would have known the intent. You would have felt the thrum of war in Motar's veins. But, instead, you let this happen."
Ares simply shrugged, tugging at his sleeves as if adjusting cufflinks that hadn't been there for centuries. "Well, my dear, I am a god of war. That thrum is what I live for." He glanced up at her, tilting his head as if considering the situation. He was so callous, so calm… it made her ill. "But, I am being honest when I tell you that I had nothing to do with it, nor did I know what Motar was planning. I do not wish to be discovered by the Klingons, else I will lose the power that keeps me here. But, as I mentioned: mutual assured destruction only feeds the god of war until there is no one left. The Romulans, the Klingons, the Ferengi, the Federation… they all have weapons that could obliterate one another easily. Neither of us win if the Tal Shiar keep stirring the pot."
"Then, make them stop." She reiterated, stepping closer. A hand rested at her hip, as if to pull her lasso.
It didn't faze him. "No. I need the Klingons to want war, Diana."
"And I need them to be at peace with the Federation." She insisted.
Ares simply shrugged, sighing dramatically. "Then, I believe we're at an impasse. The fact is, Diana, you cannot kill me because you know someone will resurrect me. Our father, our sister, they may need someone to beg them back to life, but not me. War is primal. War always exists."
Diana shook her head, frustrated and tired. "One day, Ares…" She finally breathed, looking back up at him. "One day, you will have no one to worship you. I will not rest until there is finally peace in this galaxy. The Federation has committed to this, and I will help them achieve that goal. It may take millennia, but one day, you will find that you are no more than an immortal, angry old man."
He chuckled, a sound that she would never grow used to. It was akin to hearing evil itself laugh in her face. They had been allies once, but only in the face of greater enemies. It had never been because of their principles. "One day, perhaps, and then I will congratulate you for winning the last great battle. Until then, I propose a truce."
She glanced up at him, an eyebrow raised. "A truce? How could I ever think you would honor it?"
"Because it's in both our interests, and of all the battles I wish to fight, this is not one of them." He seemed… genuine. That was even more disconcerting. "I don't think you realize how powerful you are now. You have believers. You've never needed them, and now… they've made you even stronger." There was a dark tinge, a note of envy to his voice, but Ares still seemed calm and cool. Even that mustache he'd never gotten rid of made him seem composed. "I've no desire to deal with your burgeoning cult. So, I will stay with the Klingons, and I will keep their affairs to myself. In return, I will…" His nostrils flared as he spoke something obviously distasteful to him. "Work them towards trusting the Federation. Your part is to stay away from me. If I choose to let the Klingons rip each other apart, you don't get a say. After all, they want to die in battle. I'm giving them an option that is… less galactically destructive."
Diana wanted to turn him down. It would have been easy to dig her heels in, to demand that he surrender.
But, ultimately, he was an unending creature and so was she. This would be an eternal conflict, punctuated by ceasefires whenever she killed him. But, nothing ever changed quickly. She had seen this with the Klingons. In order to achieve any lasting change, she would have to come across the aisle with him as well.
"Very well." She breathed. "But, you do not need worshippers, Ares. If you could one day realize that mortals are not a power source, but the beings you should aspire to love - "
Ares groaned, rolling his eyes. "Let's not make this more awkward, my dear."
"Maybe you cannot change, but this is a start. I will accept your terms." Diana pulled her hand away from the lasso, showing him that she would trust him in this. "But, if you ever come for the Federation, I will end you with great prejudice. That includes your lackeys, your wife - "
Ares's eyes widened and his expression reflected nothing short of disgust. "What, Circe? Diana, I have no idea what she's up to, but rest assured, I'm not supporting it. If you see her, I will not come to her rescue."
She was taken aback. "I thought you two shared a child, that you would protect her for Lyta's sake - "
"We shared a child." Ares growled, the tone more dark and lethal than anything she had ever seen from him before. "But, Lyta was on Earth when the Augments…" The way he trailed off suggested they both knew exactly what had occurred.
Diana's anger and confusion slipped away as genuine sorrow took its place. "Ares, I am so sorry…"
"Don't." He simply answered. His tone shifted to one more cold. "It's better this way. War doesn't need to care about its victims." With that, he pushed off of the wall and stood straight. "Good luck, Diana, in all your future endeavors. With any luck, our paths will not cross again."
And then he was gone.
Diana stared at the spot where he had been for a long moment before she finally walked closer, reaching out to touch the wall, still warm from his body. Even hiding, the god of war was filled with fire and fury. And darkness…
"So… you let him go?"
Diana turned towards the voice. Nyota walked out from one of the smaller alleyways, her expression a mixture of guilt and concern. She had clearly not meant to eavesdrop, but had heard them nonetheless.
Diana smiled softly, then nodded in response. What else could be said?
Nyota took a moment to consider her, then came closer. "Diana, sometimes, you confuse me. You want so much for us, but then you let your brother, the literal god of war, leave here with no consequences for his actions. You could have killed him if you wanted to, or we could have taken him into Starfleet custody."
Diana chuckled, more amused by the suggestion than she probably should have been. "Sister, what makes you think that Starfleet has the technology to restrain Apollo, Ares, or any of the other Olympians? Apollo transported us through the Enterprise's shields and used his powers as a god of light to destroy a warbird." She could tell that her words had unsettled the other woman, and worried her bottom lip as she tried to think of the best way to explain. She spotted a bench and motioned for her to join her there.
Once they had taken a seat, Diana reached up and pulled her diadem off of her head. She turned it so she could see the crest, her thumbs tracing the starburst that had once been Antiope's. It had been so long since she had seen her aunt. Less time since she had seen her mother, but she could remember her mother's words.
She did not know how to explain everything she was feeling to Nyota, but she felt she deserved the explanation. Of all the people on the Enterprise, she had helped Diana resume her role as an Amazon the most. "This once belonged to the greatest warrior my people had ever known." She began, holding the diadem out reverently for Nyota to take in her hands. When she accepted it, Diana allowed her a moment to examine the artifact before continuing. "My aunt Antiope, the greatest general of the Amazons. She died to protect me. She was the first. When my mother gave this to me, she told me to be sure I was worthy of it. In my days since, whenever I wear this, whenever I don the armor that you all recognize as Wonder Woman… it is Antiope I seek to honor. In a way…" Diana shrugged. "I suppose you could see it as belief. Just as soldiers cry to Ares for war, I pray to Antiope to guide my aim, to steady my hand. And I pray to my mother that I may never need to resort to violence at all."
"I'm sure they're proud of you," Nyota finally breathed, sparing a glance up at her.
Diana smiled a little, slightly skeptical. "Perhaps. I'd like to think so, but I also know that they envisioned I would never be what Ares wanted of me."
"And what's that?"
She sighed. "A god." Diana had told them her heritage, but it was one thing to hear it. It was another to explain how gods felt, behaved. "A god like Ares," She clarified. "The Amazons were borne from the sea, a gift from Aphrodite who came from the edges of the sea herself. Sent to temper man's fire, they were demi-goddesses. I came from the union of such a demi-goddess and the king of the gods himself. But, I never knew my heritage. I never knew that worship was the most potent drug an Olympian could sate themselves with." She sighed. "And that is why I cannot kill Ares. Gods can subsist on belief. If even one person remembers their name, recalls their stories… it can be enough."
Nyota slowly handed back the diadem. A moment ago, she had seemed wistful and in awe. Now, she was sharp and critical. She was curious about Diana's statement. "Enough to… bring them back? Is that what Ares was talking about?"
She nodded. "For many decades after I slew Ares in the first World War, I thought he would be gone forever, along with the remaining Olympians. But, in my travels, I befriended an archaeologist: Dr. Barbara Ann Minerva. The two of us were…" She trailed off for a moment, reminded of her part in Barbara Ann's life. "Close." She had kept her at arms' length…. Urzkartaga had taken advantage of that. She took a deep breath, straightening and steeling herself for a tale she had not even shared with Jim. "She found a temple to the god Morpheus outside of the ancient location for Karya, just miles from Mount Olympus. This was in the 1970s, and everyone was embroiled in a Cold War I wanted no part of, so I jumped at the opportunity to see the wonders of this temple."
She could still see the temple, columns miraculously still held up in a site covered by centuries of dirt and rock.
"We did not know that there would be magic in this place. When I arrived, I thought my family dead: including Morpheus. What I did not - could not - know was that the gods do not die. Not as you or even as Spock." Diana turned to face Uhura as she slipped the diadem back onto her head. "Gods sleep. Even if we are burnt beyond recognition, we restore and renew. And in walking into the temple of the god of dreams, I inadvertently freed my family from the shackles of that sleep. By sensing another timeless being, Morpheus awoke from his long slumber and with it, he allowed Hades passage to the land of the living again. And before myself and Barbara Ann, each of the other gods was restored. But, like spirits in the night, they vanished as soon as the magic had freed them. I had no idea many of them were alive until they sought me out as Wonder Woman. They sensed an opportunity for new worshippers, should I fight in their names."
Uhura cocked her head, disbelieving. "How could that be possible? The laws of thermodynamics state that entropy will always occur in an isolated system. By nature, the body is an isolated system."
"But, we don't operate under the same rules as mortals. And I don't even know how to explain it scientifically, but I do know that what I am saying is true." Diana said with a chuckle. "Do you know the story of Prometheus, the Titan who brought fire to mankind and was punished by Zeus for doing so?"
Uhura furrowed her brow. "I remember that part of the story, but the details are fuzzy…"
Diana shifted in her seat, recalling the story as if she were a child, listening to her mother tell the tale. "Prometheus was chained to a rock in the Caucasus mountains for daring to give mankind a gift that made them less reliant on the gods. Every day, eagles would come and peck out his organs, eating his liver. Every day, he would die in agony and the eagles would leave. But, overnight, he would heal completely and the eagles would start again in the morning."
"But, that's a story," Uhura said, amused but disbelieving.
Diana grinned at her. "Any more than the story that I brought back the Greek Gods? Any more than you meeting Apollo on the bridge of the Enterprise? I know this tale to be true. I met Prometheus before I was trapped on Themyscira. He should have languished on that rock forever, but shortly after I arrived to Man's World, he and I met a man named John D. Rockefeller." Nyota's eyes widened at the familiar name, and Diana could tell she was growing less skeptical by the moment. "He was so taken by the notion of Prometheus the Firebringer that without knowing who his companions were, he built a monument to the titan. Prometheus had not felt such power in millenia. There is incredible power in belief."
"So, Ares and Apollo get addicted to it. They need it to survive?" Nyota questioned, reasoning through the information she had.
And there was the crux of the matter. Diana sighed. "Sadly, they don't. If only they could realize that. I never had belief, nor worship the way they did, and I never aged. They see mortals as a resource to cultivate and harvest. I see all humanity, all mortals, as equals. Just because you live shorter lifespans doesn't make you any less worthy of my love."
Diana stopped, sitting up abruptly. The words had flowed from her lips so quickly, she nearly missed how effortless they were. It had struck her. Everything she had tried to stop Ares from doing, and she was at risk of becoming just like him. If she claimed to see mortals as equals… how could she keep them at arm's' length? Had that helped Barbara Ann? Bruce? Would it ever help Jim?
"I am a fool." Diana simply breathed, resigned.
Nyota's eyes widened, probably wondering what Diana was thinking. But, it didn't take more than a glance exchanged between them for the other woman to understand the nonverbal communication at hand. She laughed a bit and shook her head. "You're not a fool. You're just scared of losing someone, I get that."
Diana bristled slightly at the notion. It felt different, less valorous, when it came from someone else. But, it wasn't new information, and it had been necessary to hear.
"You know, before I saw you with Ares, I actually came to talk to you about Jim." Nyota had seemingly taken an opportunity where she saw one.
Considering how easily Diana could get wrapped up in her own thoughts, she was thankful for it. But, it also meant she needed to apologize while she had the chance. "You know that my reservations about Jim do not extend to you or Spock. I am happy for the both of you, and I - "
"It's okay, Diana." Nyota said, reaching out to take the other woman's hand tightly. "I had a lecture planned, but I don't think you need it. I think you just figured it out. I don't want you to lose out on what Jim can offer you because you're scared to lose him. So, I just want you to mull something over while we head back to the Enterprise." In moments such as these, Diana found herself missing Lois the most. It had never occurred to her that perhaps…. Spock and Uhura were meant to pick up where Kal and Lois had once left off. She had a feeling Kal would greatly enjoy the Enterprise, once they were able to return to the planet. "I know what you stand to lose if you push Jim away. But, have you thought about what you think you'd gain from that? Because, from where I'm sitting, I don't see what you'd actually gain from cutting yourself off. And if you can't see it, either, then… " She shrugged. "Sometimes you take the good with the bad."
Diana nodded, glancing down at Nyota's hand. Gently, she covered the other woman's hand with her own, unable to voice how grateful she was for their friendship. "Thank you, sister. Your words have not gone unheard."
"I just want you both to be happy, and if you make each other happy, don't throw that away." Nyota squeezed her hand again, then pulled it free. With her other hand, she pulled a datapadd from her bag, holding it out to her. "This came for you while you were with Worf. Looks like he had you on his mind, too."
Diana took the datapadd, brow furrowed for a moment in confusion as Nyota stood to leave. When she looked up to ask her to stay, Nyota simply shook her head and motioned to the datapadd.
"We'll see you when you get back to the shuttle. Take your time." Nyota made her way back down the alleyway and vanished.
Turning her attention back to the datapadd once more, Diana felt a cold weight settle in her stomach. Had he sent her a message that he had been demoted? Or perhaps the Federation now demanded answers from her as well. She would gladly give them, although she imagined they wouldn't like her perspective.
Taking a deep breath, she activated the data padd. A brief text message, all that could be sent to such a long-range outpost like Khitomer, appeared on the screen.
I hope your luck is as good as mine. My ship misses you.
So does her captain.
-Jim
He was still captain and seemingly unfazed by the entire affair. Laughter bubbled up from Diana's chest as she realized that no matter what happened, Jim had somehow become even more of an eternal optimist than she was.
Typical.