Black Fire Page 4

  "You will remain very still, with your hands in sight and away from your weapons," came the woman's voice from behind the rocks. "Don't turn around. Just stay as you are," the voice continued. Spock could hear three distinct sets of footsteps approach; a hand from behind reached for his phaser. Scott was also relieved of his weapon.

  "Turn around now."

  Both turned to face their captors and stood in mute surprise as three Romulan officers smiled with satisfaction at their prisoners.

  It was the woman who caught Spock's attention. Taller than the average Romulan, she stood straight and confident. Her dark hair was tied back efficiently, giving her chiseled features prominence. While Spock was rarely susceptible to female beauty, Commander Julina's radiance elicited aesthetic appreciation.

  "I should have known the Federation would be involved," she announced angrily.

  Scott started to protest, but she would hear no explanation. "Two Federation captives will be a worthy prize to display when we return. Prisoners are not ordinarily taken by Romulans, but you are an exception." The Romulan commander moved off to confer with her officers.

  The Federation prisoners were taken to the Romulan scout ship which was secreted in a nearby gully and detained in a small storage area. The quarters were cramped and uncomfortable. Scott explored every inch of their prison, but could find no way of escaping. "Looks like we're in for a long ride in close quarters, Mister Spock."

  But Spock was not listening to his companion; he was concentrating on the voices of their Romulan captors and obtaining much illuminating information. Spock leaned against the bulkhead, putting his hands to his throbbing back and trying to stretch. He caught his breath as a burst of sharp pain shot from his back down his right leg.

  "Are ye all right?" Scott asked, becoming increasingly concerned.

  In his usual manner, the first officer denied his discomfort, and when the pain lessened, Spock quietly addressed Scott.

  "It seems that the Romulans also suffered an act of sabotage much like our own on board the Enterprise. Now they believe, since they have found us here, that we are the culprits. They were led here by a map similar to the one I discovered. It seems our adversary did not attack the Federation exclusively. That widens the scope of our problem greatly."

  "We'll have ta tell them we're searchin' for a common enemy."

  "We are in no position to tell them anything at this moment, Mister Scott. I doubt if they would accept our word, even if we do explain what we are doing on this planet. Obviously we were led here, but why, and by whom? The Romulans think we were responsible for the sabotage of one of their installations and that they were led here for some foul purpose. If they take us to Romulus, we will be in a very grave position."

  "Aye, Mister Spock, and we've no way o' gettin' any help."

  Spock lapsed into silence and Scott leaned back helplessly.

  They sat in silence for some time before the sound of an explosion near the ship snapped them both to attention. Another explosion, much closer this time, rocked the Romulan ship violently. Spock could hear the commander shouting orders to her crew as they prepared to defend themselves. The sound of a disrupter from the Romulan ship was cut short as they were jolted with a blast close to the storage section.

  "You are surrounded!" shouted a deep voice from outside the ship. "Surrender. It is hopeless for you to continue to resist."

  Spock could hear the commander in tense conference with her officers.

  "We have no self-destruct mechanism on this ship. We have no alternative. We cannot destroy ourselves and the ship… ."

  Then a deafening explosion ripped the ship's hatch completely off, cutting off the commander's words.

  Scott and Spock, imprisoned and completely helpless, realized that all they could do was await their discovery by the newcomers.

  "Will we be rescued, or prisoners of another bunch?"

  Spock answered with typical rational calm. "We will soon find out."

  Scott helped Spock to his feet as the door to their chamber banged open. The officers exchanged glances, Spock with raised eyebrow and Scott with alarm.

  Facing them were two Klingons.

  "Out!" ordered the now-familiar deep voice. "What is this? Federation representatives? Hiding? Did you think the Klingon Empire could be attacked? Did you think the combined force of the Romulan Empire and the Federation could destroy us? We are not so easily defeated!"

  The Romulan commander protested. "We didn't attack your empire. There is no alliance with the Federation. These men are our prisoners, not our allies."

  "A good attempt, Commander. But we will not be duped. An obvious ploy to catch us unaware." The Klingon motioned for all to leave the ship. "We will have a great deal of time to get the truth from you when we return to my ship."

  "Mister Spock," Scott whispered. "Tell them we're not involved in any attack upon anyone. They'll believe you."

  Overhearing Scott, the Klingon turned to Spock, eyes narrowing. "So you are the famous Commander Spock from the Enterprise. Your reputation precedes you. You are a particularly rich prize."

  Spock spoke calmly. "If my reputation precedes me, then you must know of my integrity. On my Vulcan honor, the Federation had nothing to do with the attacks on either of your empires. We, in fact, were attacked much as you were. I would assume you also have a map much like the one I carry."

  Spock reached into his utility belt; the Klingons raised their disrupters.

  "I assure you, I have no weapon. I am retrieving a piece of paper which will help us settle our differences. I believe the commander," Spock indicated the Romulan woman standing beside him, "also has a map which led her here. It would be most interesting to compare all of the maps. I believe we have a common foe. Why we were led here and for what purpose still remains a mystery. But that we were definitely enticed here by a very clever adversary seems certain."

  The Klingon took the map from Spock and the Romulan commander produced another one. The Klingon compared his map, passing all three to Spock and the Romulan.

  "You might be correct, Vulcan. We might very well have been tricked into coming here. I don't like this. Who …?"

  "That is still to be determined," Spock answered. "But, since it appears we have a common enemy, it would be in our best interest, under the circumstances, to put aside our differences."

  The Klingons grumbled at the suggestion. The Romulans, more inclined to logic, accepted the situation more easily.

  "A truce, then," the Klingon commander barked.

  "Agreed," Spock answered quickly.

  They held a conference in the clearing beside the Klingon ship. Both the Klingon and Romulan contingents had come to this planet in small scout ships, in the same class as the one Spock and Scott had appropriated. Neither ship was equipped with a transporter or sophisticated sensors. It seemed the other groups had no more felt the venture worthy of a serious well-equipped probe than the Federation had.

  The three Romulans, the trio of Klingons, and the Vulcan and Terran, who represented the Federation, sat around a table erected on the desert floor. Spock's logic and ability to maintain dispassionate objectivity made him the natural choice as leader.

  "It would be much easier to work together if we formally introduce ourselves. If we think of one another as individuals with a common problem, we may more effectively transcend our past differences."

  Scott was impressed by Spock's understanding of the psychological and sociological aspects of an alliance of such long-term adversaries. The Vulcan was not known for his sensitivity to the intricacies of interpersonal relationships.

  "I am Commander Spock, first officer of the U.S.S. Enterprise, from the planet Vulcan. My companion is Lieutenant Commander Scott, chief engineer, a Terran."

  To Spock's right, the Romulan commander took her turn. "Commander Julina of the Romulan flagship Bird of Prey; my planet of origin Relus, in the system of Romulus."

  Her officers followed. "Sub-commander Placus, Bi
rd of Prey, from Romulus." "Delus, weapons officer, Bird of Prey, from Romulus."

  The Klingon commander introduced himself in a characteristic snarl. "Commander Klee, the Klingon vessel, Force." He introduced his crew. "To my right, my first officer, Lieutenant Commander Melek. My other officer, Lieutenant Kasus. All originate from the planet Klingon. Now that we have identified ourselves, I suggest we try to find out what we are doing here."

  "May I propose a possibility?" Spock asked. All nodded assent.

  "I suggest we are dealing with an adversary who is testing our strength and possibly our ingenuity. What is alarming is that we were all attacked. I cannot imagine a force large or strong enough to handle all of our three combined military strengths simultaneously—unless they had intended to let us think their acts of sabotage were perpetrated by our known enemies to set us at each other's throats."

  "If we hadn't met here, the Klingon Empire might very well have blamed the Federation," Klee agreed.

  "The Romulan Empire would also have blamed the Federation," Julina added.

  "But," Spock interrupted, "we did meet, on this planet, where we were all led. I do not think …"

  From behind the hills surrounding the new allies, a voice boomed from some sort of amplifier.

  "Drop your weapons to the ground! You will all remain perfectly still. Do not attempt to escape. We have no desire to kill you."

  A Klingon, Lt. Kasus, reached for his disrupter and spun quickly around, shooting as he turned. A phaserlike blast hit him squarely as he fired and he disappeared in a flash of light and color.

  "It is useless to resist. Follow my orders exactly!"

  The Federation representatives had been previously disarmed by the Romulans, so both Spock and Scott stood by helplessly while the Romulans and Klingons threw their weapons onto the desert floor with angry resignation.

  "Now, place your hands behind your backs," ordered the disembodied voice from behind the hill. Spock suddenly found his hands bound behind him with a force he was unable to resist. He saw no visible restraints on the others when they, too, appeared to have their hands held behind them with an invisible bond.

  "If this is a sample of their technology and power, I may have underestimated our enemy," Spock observed.

  "Aye," Scott agreed. "We're in a sorry predicament now!"

  From all sides, small, stocky men approached their captives. Spock raised an eyebrow of interest when he got a clear look at his captors. They were fair skinned and covered by a thick coat of very fair hair which became heavier around their faces, giving the appearance of a full beard. They were wearing animal skins, draped in primitive fashion over one shoulder and over their hips. They were armed with clubs and spears.

  "I see why the depilatory was necessary," Spock commented.

  The aliens' leader cuffed Spock. "Quiet!" he barked, treating the Vulcan like an inferior form of life. Spock remained still: no need to aggravate an already grave situation.

  The prisoners were lined up in single file and marched over the surrounding hills. As soon as they reached the top of a slope and began their descent, they were able to see what the hills had obscured: a large chemical fuel rocket on a launching pad, ready for lift-off. Spock's eyebrow raised again when he saw the primitive propulsion system.

  Scott was tantalized by this apparition from the past. "Look at that!" he exclaimed. "A working sample of early spaceflight. Better than a museum exhibit!" He was quieted by the jab of a spear in his back.

  They were led to an elevator which took them up the gantry and inside the ship, where they were put into a chamber in the lower section. The door was closed, and the prisoners found themselves in a dark, cylindrical, smooth-walled cell. They also discovered their hands were now free of the invisible restraints. In the dimness of the chamber, the Klingon contingent—now reduced to two—sat in sullen silence. Spock entered into conversation with Commander Julina and her two officers, while Scott concentrated on the sounds of the ship, absorbed in the opportunity to study primitive propulsion methods firsthand.

  The launch was bumpy but effective, and the flight seemed very smooth. The ship, once launched, seemed to function on different principles of physics: artificial gravity was established. The engineer was intrigued.

  After a time each prisoner sank into his own thoughts. Their quarters were cold and uncomfortable. Spock's inner clock ticked away, giving him more of a sense of time elapsed than the others, but after a while even he lost track in the absence of instruments, due to the tight security of their prison. Food was supplied at regular intervals, always meat, which Spock refused. He was existing on water and air.

  Scott grew increasingly concerned. He couldn't see Spock clearly in the gloom, but he knew his friend was suffering. Yet, typically, Spock denied any problem. "Vulcans can go on indefinitely without sustenance, if necessary," he claimed.

  After what seemed an interminable journey, the ship plummeted out of space into the atmosphere of its home planet. It landed with a jolt, throwing the prisoners to the floor. When most had recovered their balance, Spock was still prone and Scott and Julina went to help him.

  "I will be all right in a moment. Please, I need no assistance."

  He forced himself to stand, straightening up very slowly, trying not to reveal his deteriorating condition. The door to the cell was finally opened. The haggard prisoners gratefully left the confines of the chamber, and they were taken out of the ship.

  They found themselves on a bleak and desolate world, whose red sun barely provided enough warmth for survival. Most of the landscape was barren rock, covered with a dusting of frost. The bitter cold seemed to knife through the prisoners' uniforms, designed for the artificial environment of a ship. They were marched into a stone building, separated according to race, and then placed in cells. For the first time since they had begun their search for the saboteur, Scott and Spock were separated as Spock was placed in a cell with the Romulans, whom he closely resembled.

  Food and water were provided. Again, Spock refused the animal flesh offered to him. His jailer took note of his refusal.

  "You do not eat. It is required that you retain your strength." He pushed the food at Spock, who turned away. With a wrenching force, Spock felt his hands bound behind him by the invisible force. He was roughly pushed out of the cell, through a corridor, and into a small room in which sat a female of the species.

  The woman had considerably less hair than the others. She nodded her head toward the door and two guards stationed themselves outside.

  "Well, Mister Spock, the guards say you have refused to eat. Is that true?"

  "Yes" was all Spock said.

  "You have been offered meat. It is true, then: you are an eater of plants exclusively?"

  Again Spock answered, "Yes."

  "This is a harsh world, Spock. Our climate does not permit the growth of edible plants. You will have to subsist on meat until we can bring in vegetable food for you. We have very little in the way of any other food so you will eat what we provide!"

  Spock remained silent.

  "I was told of your Vulcan stubbornness. It seems the ship's rumors were correct… ."

  It was then Spock realized that she must be the mysterious yeoman on the bridge. She was short, stocky, almost square, as Sulu had described her. Her face was broad, and seemed even fuller with the growth of hair beginning to sprout abundantly about it. "Yeoman Isabel Tomari," he said aloud.

  "Partially correct, Spock. A name I derived when I took my place aboard the Enterprise. A combination of my true name, IIsa, and that of this planet, Tomarii. You are very observant to recognize me with my hair partially regrown. Now, back to our problem. You will eat, even if we have to force you. We need you at your full strength."

  "For what purpose?" Spock shifted his weight from his numbing right leg, trying to conceal his increasing discomfort. She didn't answer his question and called a guard into the room.

  "Where have you placed him?"

  "Wi
th the others of his kind, Begum IIsa."

  "He is not like the others. I have a special interest in him. Put him in a cell by himself."

  This time he was led to and placed inside a small cell alone. Again, his hands were released as the door closed with a loud clank. It was bitterly cold. The Vulcan was finding it difficult to maintain his tolerance to the frigid temperatures, and the lack of nourishment was beginning to take its toll as well. He concentrated on stabilizing his physical condition, blocking the discomfort as much as possible, and on analyzing the information he had observed about his captors to this point.

  Sometime later, Spock could hear guards approaching his cell; he forced himself to his feet. The heavy door opened and he was ushered into the corridor. The invisible force snapped his hands together, this time in front of him. One by one, the cell doors were opened and the prisoners brought forth. The Klingons were tense and sullen, not adjusting to their capture or imprisonment with ease. But, much like Spock, the Romulans were more analytical about their predicament.

  Scott came out of his cell and headed directly for Spock before being detained by one of the guards. The engineer looked at his companion with genuine concern. He could see that Spock's condition was not good; his pallor alone was alarming to one familiar with the Vulcan.

  They were lined up in a large room adjoining the cell block. The walls were covered with moisture, making the room dank and clammy; it was close to freezing temperature. The Tomariians were entirely comfortable in the cold; the prisoners were suffering greatly.

  IIsa entered the room, followed by a large group of high-ranking Tomariians. Placing herself directly in front of Spock, IIsa was first to speak.

  "This one, the Vulcan, is of great interest. His race is known for great physical strength and logic. I am told they are peaceful. We will see. I will have him as my standard-bearer. The Romulan woman will serve me as well. The others are for you to select. The battles will commence in one solar cycle."