Star Trek: The Original Series: The Shocks of Adversity (25 page)

The doctor winced at that bit of dark sarcasm from the captain. He hesitated and watched
as Kirk refilled his glass before asking, “And what did he have to say about Ghalif?”

“Oh, he was exceedingly diplomatic and polite as we discussed the precepts of due
process and the rights of the accused. He was even polite as he informed us that,
under Domain law, Ghalif is entitled to absolutely none of it.”

“Well, then, we won’t be turning her over to them . . . right?” McCoy asked, even
though he knew how tenuous their position was.

Kirk sighed. “Fallag agreed to an extradition hearing,” he said, “though it’s fairly
obvious that he’s looking at it as little more than a supervised interrogation, and
that having us surrender her is a foregone conclusion.”

“Jim—”

Spock cut the doctor off. “Mister Fallag was very clear that Ghalif’s surrender was
not negotiable. Even if there was an extradition treaty in effect between the Federation
and the Domain, they would only need to demonstrate probable cause in order to have
her remanded to their custody. Despite her claims of innocence, her presence on the
vessel that
destroyed the transport would satisfy that requirement.”

“We don’t have a treaty with them,” McCoy snapped back at Spock, “nor would we sign
one with a government that didn’t believe in due process, or in decent treatment of
their prisoners.” McCoy turned back to Kirk. “You saw Chekov. I just had four other
patients, all of whom became ‘very clumsy,’ all at the very same time that the
814
cut communications. What do you imagine they’re going to do once they get their hands
on Ghalif?”

Kirk slammed his glass down on the desk. “Doctor, I watched the summary execution
of the rest of her people. I assure you that I have no illusions about what they may
have in store for her.”

After a moment of stunned silence in the office, Kirk slid his glass away and pressed
the heels of both hands against his eyelids. The captain dropped his hands and looked
up again. “I’m sorry, Bones,”

“Don’t worry about it,” McCoy said softly. “I know you have your back against the
wall.” As helpless as he felt, the doctor knew that Jim was experiencing the same
feeling for all of his crew.

As he reached for the bottle to refill his glass, McCoy heard his name, and turned
to see Joe D’Abruzzo standing in the office doorway, back in his red security uniform.
“Excuse me, sirs.”

“Lieutenant,” Kirk said, brightening. “It’s good to see you on your feet and back
to work.”

“Thank you, sir,” he said, returning the captain’s smile.

“How’s that arm doing?” McCoy asked. “That’s not the reason you’re here, I hope.”

“It’s . . . okay,” he said, rotating his left shoulder and betraying only the slightest
hint of discomfort. “I may not be able to throw you so easily anymore, Captain,” he
said, “but all things considered, I’m doing fine.”

“Good to hear,” McCoy said, then asked, “To what do we owe this visit?”

D’Abruzzo answered by stepping to one side, allowing another man to move into the
doorway. “I’m afraid that I imposed upon Joe’s good nature for this favor,” Doctor
Deeshal told the group.

“What in blazes?” McCoy growled as he pushed his chair back and jumped to his feet.
“What do you think you’re doing back on this ship?”

“Yes, I’d like to know that, too,” Kirk added, looking irately from the Goeg to D’Abruzzo.

“Please, Captain, if you would hear me out, before ordering the lieutenant to throw
me off your ship,” Deeshal pleaded. “I’ve uncovered some information that I think
you’ll want to have.” He paused, waiting for Kirk to decide whether he was going to
listen or have him ejected forcibly.

“What sort of information?” Kirk said at last.

“The kind of information,” Deeshal answered, “that I don’t think my government would
ever want to get out.”

*   *   *

Fallag had a most disconcerting tic, in that he tended to flick the tip of his tongue
out after every sentence or so and lick his upper lip. Taken with the Goeg’s morphological
similarity to Terran lions, it created the impression in Kirk’s mind of a very hungry
predator eyeing his prey. He could only imagine how Ghalif felt, as she was escorted
in by Doctor McCoy, being the direct object of his seemingly ravenous attention.

The doctor held her gingerly by the elbow as he led her to the chair set in the center
of the briefing room. The captain knew that she was recovered from her injuries and
that McCoy was playing up his role as caregiver. Kirk wasn’t sure that was such a
wise strategy; most predators had no compunctions about attacking the weak and wounded.

Once the Abesian woman was seated and McCoy had taken a position directly behind her,
Kirk said, “Computer, begin recording.”

The machine positioned to his right came to life and said,
“Recording.”

Kirk then struck the bell set on the table before him and said, “This hearing, for
the purpose of considering the extradition of Ghalif, is hereby
commenced. Present are Fallag on behalf of the government of the Goeg Domain, and
Doctor Leonard McCoy, as defendant’s advocate.” Fallag considered Kirk’s formalities
with amusement, languidly running the tip of his tongue across his teeth. “You may
begin your questioning, Mister Fallag,” Kirk said, suppressing the impulse to punch
him.

The Goeg envoy stood up from his seat beside Kirk and casually paced around to the
front of the briefing room table, keeping his dark-eyed glare steady on the detainee.
“Tell us, Ghalif, when did you first join the Taarpi?”

“Objection,” McCoy said. “You haven’t asked her if she is a member of the Taarpi yet.”

Fallag stared at McCoy, and then back at Kirk, who pointed out, “He’s right; you didn’t.”

The Goeg shook his head slowly, then turned back to Ghalif. “Are you a member of the
Taarpi?”

“I am,” she answered, proudly.

“And now that we have established that,” Fallag said, “when did you first join the
Taarpi?”

“Nine years ago.”

“And in those nine years,” Fallag demanded, pushing in closer to her, “how many deaths
have you been responsible for?”

If Ghalif was at all frightened or shaken, she showed no sign of it. “I’ve never counted.”

“Let’s start with the first one, then. When was that?” Fallag asked.

“Objection,” McCoy interrupted. “This is turning into a fishing expedition.”

“A what?” Fallag asked him.

“What he means,” Kirk said, “is that you’re not making any specific allegations.”

The envoy’s previous amusement with Federation legal niceties appeared to be coming
to an end. All the same, he turned back to Ghalif and continued, “Then let’s start
with your most recent atrocity. Tell us about how you destroyed Civil Transport Class
I/
043
.”

McCoy quickly retorted, “It hasn’t been established how the transport was destroyed.”

“You need to say ‘objection,’ Doctor,” Kirk reminded him.

“I figured it was assumed,” McCoy said with a shrug.

Fallag stalked over to the table, his patience finally at its end. “Captain Kirk,
you told me that this hearing of yours was to establish the facts of this woman’s
actions, not the obfuscation of those facts.”

“You’re correct,” Kirk told Fallag. “It is time we got to some facts here.” He then
turned to the Abesian at the center of everyone’s attention and said, “Tell us about
the other two people we recovered with you from the escape pod.”

Ghalif shifted her eyes away from her questioner. “They’re dead; what does it matter?”

“We’re trying to establish facts,” Kirk said. “It’s
my understanding that there are no Urpires in the Taarpi. Why were they on your ship,
and in your escape pod with you?”

“If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me,” Ghalif said.

Kirk looked sideways at Fallag, knowing that he would certainly mistrust anything
she had to say, but hoping he might still be open to other evidence. “When we reached
the wreckage of the transport and scanned it for survivors, only one of the one hundred
twenty-eight bodies found was Urpire, even though there were three Urpires listed
on the passenger manifest.”

Fallag spun around, an almost comical look of shock on his face. “What?”

Kirk nodded, and slid the data slate he had in front of him to the other man. Fallag
quickly reviewed the list displayed, and then snapped his head back toward Ghalif.
“So you kidnapped them, and destroyed the transport to cover your tracks.”

McCoy rolled his eyes. “Of course, because something like that draws so little attention.”

“Why Urpires, though?” Kirk asked, the question directed as much to Fallag as to Ghalif.
“The Urpires are neutral; the Taarpi have no dispute with them. Why them? Who were
they?”

“Captain . . .” Ghalif began, betraying her apprehension for the first time. She knew
exactly who they were, and she didn’t want that information to
come out here. Kirk thought he understood why, but it would do no good to let that
knowledge die with her.

“Who were they?” Fallag demanded, momentarily forgetting the prisoner.

“According to the passenger list, they were just ordinary citizens of the Goeg Domain,”
Kirk said. Taking the slate from Fallag’s hand, he then called up a new file. “But
after checking a little further, it turned out that all three of the Urpires were
traveling under assumed names. Genetic identifications were run on the two we recovered
from the lifepod, and they showed that both were in fact officials with the Urpires’
planetary government.”

“Members of the Urpire Curia?” Fallag gaped. “Traveling secretly on a civilian transport?”
Kirk held the slate out to him, and he immediately snatched it away and studied the
file. The captain hoped the revelation would distract him from asking how Starfleet
had tapped into the Domain’s genetic identification database. Doctor Deeshal had shown
extraordinary bravery bringing his findings to them, and he wanted to provide him
cover.

With the thought of keeping Fallag off balance, Kirk pressed on. “There was one other
thing we discovered. We compared our findings at the transport site against the passenger
and crew manifests. It seems there was one additional Abesian passenger who also was
traveling under a false
identification, and was unaccounted for among the wreckage.”

Fallag looked from Kirk to Ghalif, then back to Kirk again, genuinely confused. Ghalif—probably
as much of an alias as the one she had used to book passage on the transport— appeared
to be annoyed with Kirk for both discovering and then revealing all he had. “The Curia
secretly reached out to the Taarpi several weeks ago and asked for a meeting,” she
began. “The Urpires are not blind to the injustices the Goeg Domain has perpetrated
against their subject worlds. They’re beginning to realize that they can’t just stand
idly by and allow Goeg despotism to—”

“This hearing is over,” Fallag announced, tossing the data slate onto the table. “I’m
not going to stand here and listen to the lunatic conspiracy theories of a murderous
criminal.”

“Oh,” McCoy said, sounding disappointed, “but we didn’t even get to the extra Goeg
body yet.”

In spite of himself, Fallag took the bait. “What?”

“There was one more Goeg body in the wreckage than was listed on the manifest,” Kirk
confirmed, tapping a finger on the slate. “There’s no way of knowing who he or she
was, of course . . .”

“His name was Neefrem,” Ghalif volunteered, as Kirk had hoped she might. “He was from
Corps Intelligence. He tracked me onto that transport, sabotaged the ship trying to
stop our meeting, and—”

Fallag lunged across the briefing room, putting his muzzle within centimeters of the
Abesian’s face before either Kirk or McCoy could stop him. “You will be quiet now,”
he growled deep in his throat, then pulled away before McCoy could physically force
him to do so. “This woman will be remanded to my custody as soon as we reach Wezonvu,”
he pronounced. Fallag marched out of the room, where one of the
Enterprise
security guards waited to escort him back to his ship in the shuttlebay.

“Now I know what you meant about him,” McCoy told Kirk, before getting down on one
knee beside the Abesian. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, fine,” Ghalif said, then looked to Kirk. “I don’t know what you thought you
were going to accomplish. I could have told you he would never believe any of it.”

“I hoped he would,” Kirk admitted, moving out from behind the table toward her. “But
I couldn’t turn you over to them while keeping what I knew to myself. I’m sorry that
it doesn’t seem to have changed anything.”

“Don’t blame yourself,” Ghalif told him. “Once a Goeg makes up his mind, a herd of
wild
gaat
s won’t make him change it.”

“Now what?” McCoy asked Kirk.

It was Ghalif who answered. “Now, I wait until we reach Wezonvu, and I’ll go with
Fallag.”

McCoy shook his head vehemently. “No. We can
protect you,” he said, and looked to Kirk to back up that promise. The captain said
nothing, unwilling to admit how few options he had.

“Who will protect you and your crippled ship if you do? No, even if you could face
off against the whole Goeg Domain, I couldn’t hide here on your ship like a coward.
To do so would be an insult to everyone who has fought and sacrificed for the cause,”
Ghalif said.

Kirk could think of nothing to say to her. “Bones, do you want to escort her back
to sickbay?”

McCoy looked to be on the verge of snapping off an impertinent answer, but instead
bit his tongue, took his patient by the arm, and led her out of the room. Once they
were gone, Kirk dropped into the chair Ghalif had just abandoned and sat there for
several minutes more, alone with his thoughts and his guilt.

Once the conjoined vessels dropped out of warp on the outskirts of the Wezonvu system,
the engineering crew began the process of making the
Enterprise
an independent ship again. In the ship’s labyrinthine lower levels, teams were working
hard at the disassociation of the two drive systems, dismantling plasma transfer conduits
and control systems. As Scott walked his inspection circuit, checking up on the progress
being made, he reflected that what had been built in a cooperative effort by mixed
teams a fortnight ago was being torn apart by Starfleet crew alone. Outside the ship,
Chief N’Mi’s crew took sole responsibility for physically detaching the two vessels
from each other. As glad as he would be once the
Enterprise
was its own ship again, Scott couldn’t help but feel a small twinge of regret for
the way things were ending.