ENT - 012 - Kobayashi Maru

SIXTEEN

Friday, July 18, 2155 EnterpriseNX-01, near the Draylax system

T HE AFTER-BATTLE REPAIRS, which mostly centered on Columbias rather extensive but thankfully nonfatal damage, had made for a long day that had challenged the combined engineering teams of both Enterpriseand Columbia. And now, despite the lateness of the hour, Jonathan Archer found that he couldnt sleep. Lying on the bed in his night-dimmed quarters, he felt a desperate need, almost a physical hunger, to talk to someone about his current problem with the Klingons.

At least someone other than Porthos, whom he noted was still watching him in the semidarkness, his large black eyes alert as he lay on the pillow in the corner he used for sleeping. Though he knew he was anthropomorphizing, Archer couldnt help but read the beagles vaguely quizzical expression as one of canine concern about the current pensive state of his human.

Still recumbent, Archer reached across the bed to the small com panel mounted on the wall nearest to the bed. He hesitated as his fingers made contact with the button.

Archer paused for a moment. While he certainly had the authority to interrupt his senior officers off-duty activities when circumstances warranted, even in the dead of ships night, he didnt consider his personal feelings of isolation and loneliness to be sufficient cause. And despite the unprecedented emotional closeness he and his first officer had come to share over the past few months, he hadnt forgotten the ingrained tendency of Vulcans toward a certain standoffishness. He also knew how emotionally stressed TPol had been lately, perhaps as much by Trips feigned death as by the need to keep the truth behind it concealed from all but a small handful of her crewmates and friends. Considering all shed been through since shed first set foot aboard Enterprise,she deserved to be allowed to continue doing whatever she needed to do in order to keep body and katratogether.

He resigned himself to dealing on his own with the Klingon problem.

He sat up with a sigh, and Porthos regarded him with an expectant look and a wagging tail for a moment before launching himself into Archers lap. Scratching the dogs head behind the right ear, he said, “Porthos, how do you feel about trading jobs with me?

Porthos tipped his head and whined, and his swiftly wagging tail abruptly dropped out of warp.

Archer chuckled. “Sorry. Youre way too smart to fall for that. Get some sleep. Oneof us should.

He patted Porthos near the rump, and the dog jumped back down and returned to his sleeping corner while Archer finally gave up on the idea of slumber entirely. Sometime during the few minutes it took Archer to doff his bathrobe and don his standard blue duty uniform, the beagle had closed his eyes and drifted off into what looked like a bottomlessly deep slumber.

Archer looked on wistfully as the sleeping animals paws jerked three times, probably in response to the appearance of a sprawling dream-pasture, a wish granted by some merciful canine Morpheus. Until he got to the bottom of this mess with the Klingons, he seriously doubted hed be able to follow Porthoss wise example.

Moving quietly, he crossed the small room to his desk and took a seat in front of the computer terminal there. He entered his personal com access code manually, along with a particular subspace frequency, and then drummed his fingers on the desk for several seconds while the screens ship status updates vanished.

Archer ceased his drumming when a blood-red Klingon trefoil emblem appeared, standing out starkly against a background as black as space itself. A moment later, the alien sigil was replaced by the scowling visage of a middle-aged male Klingon dressed in a warriors battle armor. For an absurd moment, Archer wondered whether everybody on QonoS dressed like that, right down to the receptionists in the lobby who answered the incoming com transmissions and whoever came in at night to mop the floors and empty out the wastepaper baskets.

“NuqneH, Terangan? the frowning warrior said as Enterprises linguistic translation matrix took a beat to calibrate before beginning its continuous real-time translation stream. “What do you want, Terran?

Noting that the man on the other end of the comlink had a conspicuously smooth, humanlike forehead, Archer knew he would have to proceed with no small amount of caution. After all, any Klingon who bore a permanent reminder of that particular crisis was bound to have a chip on his shoulder when it came to dealing with humans.

But he also understood Klingons well enough to know that they preferred plain talk to beating around the bush.

“I am Captain Jonathan Archer of the Starship Enterprise. I must speak with Fleet Admiral Krell immediately regarding the Draylax situation.

“I am Captain Qapegh, Fleet Admiral Krells adjutant,the Klingon said with a pronounced sneer. “You have already been privileged to speak with the admiral very recently. Why should I permit you to do so again so soon after the previous occasion?

Although Archer never broke eye contact with the Klingon on the monitor, his hands moved busily across his desktop keyboard as he composed a covert text message just out of the line of sight.

Cant afford to let myself look like a timid beggar,Archer told himself as he fixed the other man with his hardest, most withering stare.

“I called before to seek an explanation for the Klingon Empires hostilities against Draylax, he said, discreetly hitting the “transmit key as he spoke. “Admiral Krell has yet to provide a satisfactory one.

Though Qapegh bared his sharpened teeth aggressively, he appeared impressed by Archers audacity nevertheless. “You risk much, human.

“Its all part of the service, Sparky.

The Klingon suddenly broke off from Archers stare, apparently not out of intimidation, but rather because something outside the Klingon com systems field of view had just demanded his attention.

“You havetarg- backed a text transmission onto the subspace channel you used to reach this office,Qapegh said, his face adorned in undisguised surprise as he looked back in Archers direction.

“Uh-huh, Archer said, nodding.

“It is coded,Qapegh said in truculent tones.

“Thats right. For the admirals eyes only. And I expect hes going to be pretty damned unhappy with anybody who delays his seeing it. Needless to say, its fairly time-sensitive stuff. Admiral Krell can contact me on the secure frequency specified in the message header to receive the encryption key.

Archer closed off the channel before the goggle-eyed Klingon could finish drawing breath to make a reply that was doubtless now being delivered at a full-throated shout before a blank screen. After all, the last thing he needed was to have some pissed-off Klingon waking up his dog in the middle of the night.

That certainly felt good,Archer thought as he leaned back in his chair and waited patiently for the inevitable return call. He listened to the gentle susurration of Porthoss snoring in his otherwise dark and silent cabin.

He was a little surprised that it had taken six whole minutes for the incoming call indicator on his com-panel to light up. Suppressing a grin, he transmitted the encryption code in response to the text message that scrolled up his screen, and then allowed nearly another whole minute to pass. The incoming light came on again, and he sat up straight and assayed his best parade-ground military bearing just before toggling the “accept key.

“Thank you for contacting me so soon after our last conversation, Admiral, he said to the older, gray-bearded Klingon whose glowering face and almost human-smooth forehead now filled his viewer like a looming mountainside. “You do me honor.

“Do not play games with me, Archer,Krell said. “You know as well as I do that my decision to respond to your summons has little to do with honor, either yours or mine.

Archer suppressed a smile, as well as any further comment regarding matters of honor. Krell was obviously making a veiled reference to Archers encrypted text message, which had intimated that Krell might want to cooperate, lest the admirals covert cooperation with a human espionage bureau during the QuVat affair the previous year become generally known throughout the Klingon Empire.

“Your honor remains safe with me, Admiral Krell, Archer said carefully. “As well as other matters that are best never spoken about again.

“I can see that aRomuluSngan might envy your skill in the dark art of blackmail, Archer,Krell said with a grunt. “You spoke to my aide of the Draylax incident. Why can you not leave the matter alone?

“Because Im still having trouble making sense of it, Admiral, Archer said. “Perhaps if you were to help me shed a little more light on what reallyhappened here at Draylaxand whyI might be able to see my way clear to talking about it a whole lot less from now on.

Krells eyes narrowed as he stroked his grizzled chin in apparent contemplation. With another grunt, he said, “Your threats aside, youhave proved trustworthy with confidences thus far, Captain. Perhaps I can afford to trust you somewhat further. Particularly if doing so makes you less of a pain in theoyoS. And makes you go away as well.

Archer smiled, though he was even less sure about the meaning of oyoSthan the translator evidently was. “Nothing would make me happier, Admiral. You, too, I expect.

“Very well, Captain,Krell said, nodding. “But I shall add only this to what I have told you already: The three battle cruisers that attacked Draylax were commanded by rogue captains. Men who were operatingwithout the legitimate authorization of either the High Council or the Klingon Defense Force. They were killed during the commission of their treachery. Their Houses, as well as the Houses of the craven subordinates who followed their un-lawful orders, have since been dispossessed and discommended for their lack of honor and discipline.

Archer had no pretensions to serious expertise about Klingon culture. Nevertheless, he felt more than justified in assuming that virtually everyone in the Empire who might know anything about the Draylax affair was no longer available for questioning. At least,he thought, not without an extremely sensitive Ouija board. One thats tuned in toSto-Vo-Top, or whatever the hell the Klingons call their version of the hereafter.

“Forgive me for making this observation, Admiral, Archer said aloud. “But that sounds awfully convenient.

Krell leaned forward and displayed a pair of curved and wickedly sharpened incisors. “That is as may be, Captain Archer. But it is also my final word on the subject. Admiral Krell out.

And with that, Krells image vanished, replaced for an instant by the Klingon trefoil emblem, which yielded to the ships status screen a heartbeat or so later as the subspace channel closed.

He sat alone in the darkness, staring into the empty blue glow of the screen. “Naghs,he muttered, thinking that mastering the Klingon spoken language might not be as difficult as hed once thought.

Still lying in the corner, Porthos came out of his apparent slumber, raised his head slightly, and released a low growl that might have done a Klingon captain proud. Archer chose to take it as a noise of solidarity rather than a reprimand for his rude use of Klingon vocabulary.

“I agree completely, Porthos. I cant buy what Krells trying to sell, either.

He knew that the Klingon Defense Force ran on discipline just as much as Starfleet and the MACOs did. Perhaps even more so.

Three trained Klingon captains wouldnt just suddenly go rogue for no apparent reason,he thought. Krell still knows a hell of a lot more about this than he wants anyone else to find out. And hes prepared to sweep it all under the rug to make sure that nobody does.

Once again, Archer felt an all but overwhelming need to talk to someone he could trust. Somebody with fewer than four legs.

He toggled open the intercom switch on his desk. “Archer to TPol.

No answer. His second try wasnt any more successful. Despite the lateness of the hour, and his knowledge of TPols habit of retreating behind a veil of Vulcan meditation, a small worm of suspicion began to turn in his guts. He rose and crossed to the hatchway, letting himself out into E decks main corridor, and onto the tubolift to B deck, determined to prove that suspicion unfounded.

After a brisk trot nearly a quarter of the way along the hallways gentle curvature, he came to a stop before the door to TPols quarters and buzzed the keypad to announce his presence.

Still no answer. The suspicion in his belly was quickly congealing into an awful certainty as he entered his override code into the controls. The hatch hissed obediently open, and he slowly stepped into the darkened chamber beyond.

It only took a few moments to determine that TPol wasnt in her quarters. The pattern of TPols recent behaviorparticularly her recent insistence that Trip was in urgent need of rescue, and her even more recent withdrawal behind the impenetrable veil of “Vulcan meditationsuddenly began to make sense.

He sincerely hoped the conclusion to which he had just jumped was wrong. Crossing to a desk illuminated only by the wan light of a neutral monitor screen and the distant stars beyond the viewport, Archer toggled open another com channel.

“Archer to Launch Bay One.

“Launch Bay One,came a young crewmans crisp, almost instantaneous reply. If he sounded surprised to be hearing directly from Archer, particularly at such a late hour, it didnt show. “Ensign Nguyen here, sir. What can I do for you?

“I need a status report on Shuttlepod One and Shuttlepod Two, Ensign.

“Shuttlepod One is fueled and ready to go,Nguyen said.

“And Shuttlepod Two?

“I can give you a detailed status report on her just as soon as she returns toEnterprise.

Goddammit!Archer thought, kicking himself, hard. Why didnt I see this coming?

Struggling to keep any trace of anger out of his voice, he said, “When did Commander TPol depart, Ensign?

“Let me check the log, sir.A pause. “Yesterday evening at eleven-hundred hours, nine minutes.

“Thank you, Ensign. Archer out.

TPol had no doubt wanted him to believe that shed been in meditation continuously since around that time, Archer reflected. Now he understood clearly the realreason she hadnt been on the bridge when Enterprisehad received Columbias report about the Klingon attack on Draylax. So much for that renowned Vulcan inability to lie, he thought. That little whopper has got to be the most useful lie the Vulcans ever got us to swallow.

And as a partial consequence of that lie, TPol was now off on a foolish quest in hostile territory.

All alone.

He keyed the com again. “Archer to Reed. He paused to await a response, but none came. Though he hated to bother a man afflicted with the sort of nasty gastrointestinal trouble that had sidelined Malcolmespecially at such a late hourhe pressed on. “Malcolm, I need to talk to you. Even if we have to chat through the bathroom door.

Still nothing.

Oh, no, he thought, shaking his head as he struggled to tamp down a rising tide of anger. Well, at least she hasnt charged off to oblivion alone.

It occurred to him that at least one of them would have left him a note before doing something so damned stupid. Taking a seat before TPols monitor, he started searching the com logs.

The desktop terminal brightened a few moments later, then suddenly displayed the serious-miened faces of Enterprises exec and weapons officer. They were standing awkwardly side-by-side in a cramped, dimly illuminated cabin that Archer immediately recognized as the interior of his missing shuttlepod. Both were out of uniform, clad instead in dark, nondescript clothing devoid of any visible insignia linking them to Starfleet, Earth, or the Coalition.

“Captain Archer, by the time you view this recording, Lieutenant Reed and I will probably be deep inside Romulan territory,TPol began without preamble. “Please accept my apologies for the ratherunorthodox actions we have taken. However, our mission is one of the utmost importance. And not merely for the safety of the man we both know as Lazarus.

Lazarus, Archer repeated silently, recalling the code name Trip had used when he had delivered his last-minute warning about the attack on Coridan.

“I must also protect the vital work that Lazarus is performing inside the Romulan sphere of influence,TPol continued. “Should we fail, the repercussions will be incalculably larger than the life of any one person.

“Or evenour lives, I suppose,Malcolm said.

Something written millennia ago by the Vulcan philosopher Surak, a long-dead man whose living spirit had nonetheless once briefly shared the space inside his skull, sprang unbidden into Archers head, soothing his roiling emotions: The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.

Reed added, “I know I once promised you that I was finished with this kind of subterfuge, Captain, and that my first loyalty was to you and toEnterprise I understand the consequences of my actions. But I wouldnt be doing this if I thought we had a better alternative.

As he listened, Archer felt a renewed surge of anger begin to sweep away the calming memory of once having been in close proximity to Suraks peaceful, orderly mind. How could the two of them leaveEnterprise at a time like this?he thought. Regardless of TPols vehement certainty that Trip was in mortal danger, her actions were a far cry from what hed come to expect from his logical first officer. Reed, yes. Trip, certainly. But not TPol.

“If it is at all possible,TPols image said, “we will return toEnterprise at our earliest opportunity, to take responsibility for our unauthorized actions. And to face whatever disciplinary consequences await us.

She raised her right hand in a familiar split-fingered gesture. “Live long, and prosper.

The message abruptly ended.

Slumping backward into TPols chair, Archer sighed into the semidarkness that surrounded him. Whatever qualms he had about what his subordinates had just done, he knew there could be no changing any of it now. The die was cast. Railing against what was done would do absolutely no good.

“Godspeed, he whispered to the blank screen.

Even before hed heard the recording, the main reason behind TPol and Malcolms clandestine stunt had been glaringly obvious to him.

Trip.

And because this entire business revolved around a man believed dead by all but a handful of people, there was only one person currently aboard Enterprisewith whom Archer could speak freely about what TPol and Malcolm were trying to do.

His frustration welled up again, and he slammed his fist down on another com button, striking the console nearly hard enough to shatter it. He found the pain that shot through his hand strangely calming.

“Archer to Phlox, he said, addressing the one crew member who would be awake regardless of the lateness of the hour. “Doctor, I have a hugeproblem on my hands.