The Sarpeidon Chronicles Part 2

PART II: Journey to Tomorrow

NOTE: this is a continuation of the "virtual series" begun on LPAIGEMA's aol homepage. To read Part One, go to http://hometown.aol.com/lpaigema/myhomepage/startrek.html

The entire series is also available on www.fanfiction.net under pen name "LoriP." Paste this link into your browser:
http://www.fanfiction.net/profile.php?userid=417236

PART ONE summary: Now captain of his own research vessel, the Copernicus, Spock and his first officer, Commander Michaela Taylor, discover a method of time travel that will allow them to rescue Zarabeth. Just before the ship is scheduled to drydock, Spock returns to the ice age and is reunited with the love of his life. She's pretty glad to see him, too. That night, safe again in the future, they make arrangements to be married aboard the Copernicus--especially when Zarabeth is discovered to be two months pregnant. Spock's plan is to leave Starfleet and enter the diplomatic corps (as seen on ST:TNG) to start a new life with her.

------
Chapter 1


"Our previous governor liked to use this room as his study. I figured you'd feel the same, so I left the furnishings as they were."

The housekeeper's silvery-green eyes gleamed with pride as she pushed open the heavy double doors, revealing a magnificent chamber for Spock's inspection. Antique tapestries culled from a variety of alien worlds adorned the walls, and between them sat deep bookcases stuffed full of antique tomes and scrolls. An enormous desk, its dark wood polished to mirror-like perfection, dominated the ample floor space. Directly above it, a triangular skylight revealed the dark, hazy pink of Danaaus III's humid atmosphere.

"You assumed correctly. I see no reason to interrupt the present arrangements."

"Too much for me to move around, anyway. Governor Jennings spent a lot of time in there, with his records and logbooks. Sometimes he'd look through those rare volumes on the shelves. I suppose he fancied himself a bit of a scholar. At night I'd bring him a drink called whiskey and soda. It was something from Earth, he said."

"That will not be necessary in my case."

"I thought as much. We've only had a few Vulcans live in the colony, but they were all teetotalers. Good thing, too. Those who can't hold their drink are better off not taking any in the first place. At least that's the way I feel about it." With a firm twist of her thick, blue-skinned wrists, she banged both doors shut again. "Besides, even if you were given to drink, you could get your wife to take it in there for you. One less thing for me to do."

Without waiting for an answer, she wheeled her stout body around and led him down another vast hallway and another set of double doors.

"Now this is the smallest bedroom, but it does face the garden. Governor Jennings was a bachelor, so this one suited him fine. He liked to open the windows and take the air at night."

To demonstrate, she pushed open the floor-length windows. A warm, heavy breeze, scented with exotic flora, immediately filled the room. Beyond the open panes, Spock observed a walled-in area, thickly covered with vines, shrubs, and a variety of flowering plants, all sporting the vivid colors of Danaaus III's natural botanical diversity.

"Oh, it's perfectly safe, if that's what you're wondering. The walls are too high for anyone to climb, and even if they did, the vines growing along the sides have four-inch spines. Governor Jennings liked things to be practical, not just beautiful."

"You seem to have found his administration satisfactory on many levels."

Shrugging, she closed and locked the windows. "To tell you the truth, I was surprised when he retired. When a man's that set in his ways, you'd expect him to shy away from change. But I admit I know nothing about politics. What I did like about him was that he was neat and tidy, and there was only one of him. Looking after him was almost like looking after an empty house. That'll change now, I suppose." As they left the room, she turned on him with a sudden scowl. "The Embassy says that there's a baby coming. I'd just like to point out that nothing in my contract requires me to perform those sorts of duties. If you want help with that you'll have to get one of these Danaan girls in from the village. I suppose the Embassy could recommend someone."

Spock paused to clear his throat. "Acknowledged. I'm sure the necessary details will be worked out in due course."

"Let's hope so." The woman sighed as if she could already see the dust piling up in the corners. "And when will the new governor's wife be arriving?"

"She will depart by shuttle in three days. Given the circumstances, I thought it best that I prepare the house before sending for her."

"The governor will please himself, I'm sure, but I'd be worried, letting her travel alone. Then again, I was never one to fly through space myself. Even though I'm not one of these Danaans, I was born here and never left. Feet were made to stay on the ground, I always say."

"Your concern is noted; however, I was able to secure a highly competent and trustworthy escort. I anticipate no problems in that area."

"Well, three days. I suppose I'll have plenty to do before then. A woman notices things about a house that a man wouldn't. And a pregnant woman's bound to be especially critical." She shook her head so that her elongated mound of chrome-colored hair wobbled. "I suppose I'd better get started, or I'll be here all night. Did the governor have any other questions before I go?"

"Actually, there is just one. Exactly how much time do you spend here on an average day, Mrs. Aathis?"

The housekeeper's eyes narrowed cautiously. "My contract states that I'm responsible for keeping the property in order and making sure all the necessary supplies are on hand. I'm not required to serve your meals or organize any personal effects. And I don't intend to stay on into the evenings, if that's what you were about to ask. I think a few hours in the mornings would be sufficient. If you need more help than that, you'll have to contact the Embassy."

"Understood." Spock didn't bother to hide his relief. "I trust that Zarabeth and I will learn to manage without you."



.........................................................................................................

More than six months after the Copernicus had coasted into drydock there, Michaela Taylor returned to Starbase 12, flight bag in hand, and proceeded to the North Shuttle Bay as ordered.

Zarabeth was waiting there as expected, a gold-uniformed base security officer standing at attention behind her seat. Taylor dismissed him with a nod. "I'll take over from here."

"Yes, Captain."

Taylor waited until they were alone before holding out both hands. Eight months pregnant, Zarabeth grabbed them and hauled herself to her feet. "It's good to see you," Taylor said.

"And you. You haven't changed at all-except for the captain's stripes, of course."

"Wish I could say the same about you." Taylor looked down at Zarabeth's hugely distended middle with amazement as the two of them took facing seats. "It shouldn't be long now."

"Three weeks, give or take. That's why Spock went on ahead to get the house ready and to check on the medical facilities there. I'll be glad to get settled, even if I'm not sure exactly what we'll be settling into."

"I have to admit, I never would have imagined him governing a colony. Sometimes it seemed like the crew of the Copernicus was an inconvenience to him. And there were only 75 of us."

"It had something to do with the way diplomatic appointments work. His father thought it might be a good way to prepare. Anyhow, I think he was tired of doing administrative work here, even though he never actually complained. That's not his way, as I'm sure you know."

"Unfortunately, Starfleet has never quite figured out what to do with its deactivated captains. They think a desk job will come as a relief, but for some reason they don't realize how boring it can be for someone who's spent years zipping around the galaxy at warp speed."

"I guess that's something you can look forward to as well."

"Hopefully, I won't be deactivated for a long time to come. I haven't actually been activated, for that matter, until I reach the Wellfleet and assume command."

"You must be even more nervous than I am."

"Count on it. I guarantee that my six months of captain's training has prepared me for about the first ten minutes of an actual command. But I guess I'll do what you did when you first arrived in our century-play along like you know what's happening, and just hope everyone else believes it."

"There was one big difference. I had you - and Spock - to help me understand things. You'll be on your own."

"I'll manage. And so will you. I did a little research when Spock told me about your new post. Danaaus is known as one of the easiest places to govern in the entire sector. The native population is famous for its respect for authority and order. They've had the same governor for 25 years, ever since they agreed to become a Federation colony, and the only incident of civil unrest involved where to build the governor's house - your house now. In the end, there was a peaceful compromise. And you'll be happy to know that the climate is extremely mild, almost tropical."

"Believe me, that was the first thing I asked about. If I ever see another snowflake it will be too soon."

"I can imagine. So...tell me the details. How has everything gone for you? Since we all left the Copernicus, I mean."

She could tell that Zarabeth's smile, like her obvious happiness and contentment, was genuine. "Some days are so wonderful I'm still afraid I'll suddenly find out they were all a dream. Other days are difficult, frustrating. But they're all interesting."

"I think I can guess who's responsible for some of the difficult and frustrating ones."

"Well, he did warn me. And we'll need more than a four-hour shuttle ride for me to tell you about my first trip to Vulcan."

"Something tells me you managed to hold your own, even there."

"I suppose I did all right. I'm not betraying any state secrets by telling you that my new father-in-law wasn't exactly thrilled with me. The Sarpeids always were a hot-blooded race, but I think he accepted the situation well enough. And he did arrange a second wedding for us, just to make sure that our son will have all the benefits of Vulcan citizenship, if he ever wants to claim them."

"I heard about that. It must have been quite an event."

"What I remember best was trying to learn enough Vulcan to get through the vows. It wasn't quite as easy as Spock led me to believe. Besides, it was really just a formality. The ceremony on the Copernicus - the one you organized for us - was the one that counted as far as I'm concerned."

Michaela flashed a quiet smile. "We had some fun with that, didn't we? And ordering the captain on a mandatory shore leave afterward was a master touch. It's one of a first officer's most important, and least utilized, prerogatives. Too bad you both had to miss a soil-sampling mission, but hopefully a week at one of the Federation's finest resort planets softened that particular blow."

"It did. Even Spock had to admit that, even if he wouldn't say it out loud. In fact, we came to an agreement on that trip. When we're with other people, he can be as Vulcan as he wants-in fact, I insist on it. At night, when we're alone, I take the lead. So far, we complement each other perfectly. I've come to believe that all men - all people, really - are more alike than different, whatever world they're from."

"You might be right about that. Look, I think our shuttle's finally in."

Just to the right of the waiting area, twin doors slid open to emit two Danaans, both relatively young, one male and one female. Both of them bore the characteristic features of their world, their narrow faces and gently slanted eyes marking them as native-born citizens rather than colonists. They were dressed in the civilian clothing native to their planet, simple woven tunics over dark trousers tucked into flat-heeled, ankle-high boots.

The female approached them first, her companion following at a respectful distance. She slowed a little upon noticing Zarabeth's obvious pregnancy, then quickly recovered herself and addressed them in a formal, dispassionate tone.

"We have completed the necessary preparations to launch the shuttle," she announced without preamble. "I am Janax, the navigator, and this is Naioch, the pilot. We wish to extend Captain Taylor and our new governor's wife every courtesy. If you would please board now and make yourselves comfortable, we will see to the luggage. We will arrive at Danaaus III in little more than three hours."

Taylor regarded them with open skepticism. "We're not using Starfleet pilots?"

Janax's delicate features pulled into a mild scowl. "We are attached to the Danaan embassy. I might remind the captain that we are a Federation colony, not an occupied territory. It is customary for the Danaans to conduct our own transports to and from our planet. Naioch and I are both experienced helmsmen, if that is your concern."

"I haven't been in a shuttlecraft since we were still with the Copernicus," Zarabeth recalled as they settled in at the rear of the craft. For reasons she couldn't quite define, Taylor positioned herself so that she could see the control panel over the Danaans' slender shoulders. "For some reason I never liked them. The walls seem too thin considering what is - or isn't - on the other side."

"Nothing to worry about," Taylor adjusted the headrest on the plushly cushioned seat. "I've traveled on these hundreds of times. Not as comfortable as a starship, but perfectly reliable for short trips like this one." As she settled back, she saw Janax steal a final glance at both passengers, then dart another at Naioch. He nodded a little as Janax laid in their course. "At least as far as structural concerns go," she added.

......

Spock was in the study, carefully adding some of his own antique volumes to former Governor Jennings' shelves when he paused to examine the nearest tapestry. Its woven panels depicted a primitive battle between stick-bearing autochthons and an invading force that carried a modified version of an ancient Terran crossbow, though clearly the piece had not originated on Earth.

Resolving to investigate its provenance later, he pushed the last book into place and glanced through the half-parted window screen on the other side of the shelf. From his present vantage point, he found that he could gaze directly into the walled-in garden that faced the downstairs bedroom.

If he had been in the habit of doubting his eyes, he might well have done so at that moment. Despite the housekeeper's insistence that the garden wall was impenetrable, there among the cascade of thick floral growth stood a Danaan woman, her face turned up toward the house. For the briefest of moments, her eyes met Spock's and she paused - not in fear, but rather with overt curiosity. Not only did she seem utterly unnerved at being spotted, she seemed to be courting his notice in a way he found wholly inexplicable.

Then, while he was still considering how he ought to react, she retreated into the blood-red leaves of the nearest clump of shrubbery.

By the time he reached the spot himself, she had vanished utterly. An examination of the wall revealed no crevice, trap door, or apparent route over the top.

The housekeeper was at the front of the house, gesturing to two Danaans who stood outside, struggling with an enormous trunk that Spock recognized as one they had shipped from their apartment at the Starbase.

"The supply freighter just came in, sir, and beamed down some more of your things. Where would you like this?" she asked.

"Take it to the largest bedroom. My wife will sort it out when she arrives. Aathis, how many transporters are available to the general population of this colony?"

"Transporters? Absolutely none. I can't even think what kind of trouble we'd have if these Danaans started beaming themselves around here at will."

"There are some, surely."

"The only ones I know of are at the Embassy, and those are kept secure at all times. If you wished to use one, that could certainly be arranged, though we have plenty of perfectly reliable ground transportation, to be sure, if the governor wishes to travel someplace."

She was about to launch into a lengthy explanation, so he held up one hand. "It was merely a routine inquiry."

The two Danaan men struggled past them into the hall with the trunk.

"Your wife will be here soon, Governor?" one of the men asked as the other paused to realign his grip,

"I have received word that the shuttlecraft departed as scheduled. Therefore we may expect it in approximately three hours and twenty-seven minutes."

The Danaan listened thoughtfully, then suddenly turned to him with an impudent smirk Spock found most inappropriate and even somehow disquieting.

"That's not very long to wait, then," the Danaan said before moving forward with the trunk.

"Not at all," said his companion.

By the time they turned the corner by the stairs, they were both laughing.

"It's what I've been telling you all along," Aathis groused. "They're like a bunch of petulant children sometimes. You'll soon find out what that's like for yourself."



....

They'd been traveling for an hour, talking in general terms about mutual acquaintances from the Copernicus, some of whom would now serve under Taylor's new command on the Wellfleet. Eventually, Taylor paused to check her wrist chronometer and then the star chart open on her lap.

She scowled. "I don't understand this. We should have passed the Jefferson Nebula by now, but I haven't seen a sign of it. It's not the kind of thing you could miss." Leaning forward, she squinted at Janax's navigational screens and recognized none of the coordinates displayed. "What's going on? Where are we, anyway?"

"The captain is correct; we are no longer on the course originally planned," Janax replied calmly. "We are quite far off, in fact."

"Why?"

Naioch glanced at Janax, who gave him an almost imperceptible nod. "It is necessary that we divert from our previously plotted route in order to provoke certain...communications with Federation authorities."

"What does that mean?"

Janax turned around to look at both passengers. Her left hand leveled a phaser at them. "It is our plan to negotiate with Starfleet for your release."

"Are you saying that we've been taken hostage?"

"If that is the way you prefer to express it. Or you may simply consider yourselves our guests on a slightly extended voyage."

Chapter 2

Taylor didn't bother to conceal her outrage. She started forward, then drew back as Janax's phaser followed her to her feet. "What you're doing is insane. Starfleet's monitors will show that we've veered far off our approved course. They'll send a ship after us - after you."

Janax nodded, unconcerned. "The shuttle will indeed have disappeared from their monitors. That is deliberate. We have managed to obtain - at great expense to those who support our cause - a contraband cloaking device suitable for small-vessel use. Approximately twenty minutes after launch, we deployed it. Starbase controllers are no doubt attempting to interpret the irregularity even now. However, that is not our concern. When the time is right, we shall inform them of what we have done."

"Your cause? Exactly what does that mean? What are you using us to negotiate for? I think we have a right to know that much."

"We have told you all we think it prudent for you to know. Until we contact Starfleet command, we prefer to say nothing more. Now I suggest you take a seat and try to remain cooperative. The process will certainly go easier if you do."

Without taking her eyes off the phaser, Taylor retreated. "And what about Zarabeth's baby? Have you no compassion at all?"

"We confess that was not part of our plan." Janax winced. "We were misinformed as to the precise medical state of the governor's wife. However, we subsequently decided that her condition may actually improve our bargaining position. A starship captain is no small prize, but the governor's unborn child could be construed as an even more valuable one. We presume that the sympathy factor will also work in our favor."

"I don't even want to speculate on the kind of punishment that awaits you once you've been caught - and you will be, rest assured."

"That is immaterial at the moment. Our primary concern is to present our case and allow your superiors to meet our demands. Once they do, you will be released. And now I wish to have no further discussion about the matter."

Keeping the phaser trained on them, Janax half-turned to consult with Naioch privately. Every now and then, he glanced up at the two women and then looked away again. His jaw was clenched so tightly that the muscles in his lean neck pulsed slightly.

Taylor shook her head angrily. "This is my fault," she whispered. "I should have noticed something wasn't right. I'm so sorry, Zarabeth."

"There was no way you could have known." Zarabeth's fingers were white as she gripped the chair arm and leaned forward. "Are you armed?"

"It's not Starfleet policy to carry weapons on a base, and I guarantee you they searched my bag when they brought it on board. I don't suppose you had the foresight to hide a phaser rifle under that shirt you're wearing."

"I wish I'd thought of it." A long silence, heavy with abject misery on one side and barely suppressed fear on the other, stretched between them. "So what do we do now? Just wait?"

"Our best hope is to avoid panicking them. I get the feeling that these two are rank amateurs at this kind of thing."

"What makes you think that?" Zarabeth asked.

Taylor hesitated. "Well...they just don't seem very comfortable with what they're doing. It's more of an impression, really. I can't be any more specific than that."

To her relief, Zarabeth nodded without pressing for more details.

At the control panel, Naioch was keying the subspace radio. An urgent voice was crackling through the grid.

"Put it through," Janax said. "Audio only."

"This is Starfleet Sector Control. Our sensors have lost track of your craft. Please transmit your coordinates so that we may recalibrate."

"We will do no such thing," Janax replied. She spoke quickly, excitedly. "Our deviation from our plotted course was intentional. Please inform your base commander that we are holding Captain Taylor and the wife of Spock until our demands are met. You may further inform him that our terms are simple. On Danaaus there is a man, Voral, who has been unjustly sentenced to life in the Federation prison there. We demand his immediate release in exchange for the two Federation women. This shuttle has enough fuel to maintain life support and impulse power for approximately seventeen hours. If our terms are not met by then, we will shut down the engine core and detonate the craft in space. Our own deaths are of no consequence to anyone but us. However, it is your choice if your two Federation citizens die with us. We will contact you again in thirty minutes. See that you have the proper authorities available."

At her signal, Naioch cut off the transmission.


. . . . .

"To tell you the truth, I was afraid something like this might happen." Lucas Hawkes, the Embassy's security chief had arrived at Spock's home accompanied by two muscular security men, but he had entered the study alone. Now he paced in front of the enormous desk, his gaunt face tight with anger. "These Danaans may look peaceful, but they can be savages under the skin. Governor Jennings might have seemed strict to an outsider, but no one can deny that he kept them in line. No offense, but they probably think you won't be able to maintain his standards, so they've decided to test you."

"In regards to Governor Jennings, I understand that Starfleet is attempting to locate him now, but their attempts have been unsuccessful. Have you any idea where he might have gone?"

"None. I respected the man, but we never considered ourselves friends. I know that he kept his own craft, and that he planned to make use of it as soon as he retired. My guess is that he made good on that promise to himself, and he's off somewhere enjoying his free time. He'd have no way of knowing what's happened."

"That is one possible explanation."

"Are you suggesting that these ruffians have kidnapped him, too?" Hawkes' scowl deepened. "I've seen no evidence of that - but I suppose you're right to consider it until we know otherwise. I'll ask around, see if I can find out anything. And if I might make one other suggestion?"

"Of course."

"I think our first order of business should be making sure the hostages really are alive. It would be just like these cowards to shoot first and make demands later." Suddenly his face softened. "I'm sorry, sir. I realize that one of them is your wife. Besides, the fact that they're both women might work to their advantage. They might seem less of a threat. Hell, that might have been part of the plan all along."

"No apology is required. Fortunately, my wife is not easily intimidated, and Captain Taylor is both resourceful and cautious. It seems probable that they have managed to remain alive. In any case Starfleet will certainly demand visual proof of their condition before proceeding."

"You're taking this well, sir, and I admire that. Me, I'd be outraged. In fact, I am outraged. I thought we'd solved this Voral problem eight years ago."

"Explain."

"He's the worst of them, sir: an anarchist, an agitator, and a would-be murderer who's done everything in his power to hold this community back from the real progress the Federation has offered. When Governor Jennings first came to this colony twenty-five years ago, they lived in a stagnant cultural swamp. Luckily, their leader-Voral's father-saw the benefit of allowing the colony to be established here. He yielded his authority readily. The Danaans were perfectly content to accept that until Voral began his campaign of terror. It was just a matter of time before someone got hurt, and finally they did, right here on the grounds of this house. I won't waste your time with the details, but that incident gave me enough evidence to rid this colony of that scourge once and for all. I personally brought about his arrest and saw to it that he was put where he belongs - and where I can keep an eye on him - for life."

Fingers steepled, Spock considered this information. "It appears that the most rational course of action would be for me to apprise myself of the specifics of Voral's case. I will access his records while you continue the search for Governor Jennings."

"With all due respect, I don't think that would be the best use of our very limited time. I have a better idea. Let me round up some of Voral's allies who are still moving around freely. I know who they are, for the most part, and I can find the names of the rest soon enough. Then we can force these ragtag pirates to renegotiate for their own people. Put them on the defensive."

"I fail to see how that would protect the occupants of the shuttle."

"I can see that it's risky, but it might buy us enough time for Starfleet to crack the cloaking device. Once we pinpoint their coordinates, we can disable them somehow, retake the shuttle by force."

Spock folded his hands. "I am not in favor of such a move. "

"Listen, it's no secret around the Embassy that you're only here temporarily, so you can train as an Ambassador here. But take it from someone who knows these people: in this case you need to think less like a diplomat and more like a starship captain. These people are not interested in arbitration. They're out for blood, and I think we should be prepared to spill theirs first if it comes to that."

"Very well; I have noted your position on the matter and will take it into account." Spock rose with an obvious air of dismissal. "I will contact you again as needed. In the meantime, you have your assignment."

Hawkes didn't bother to keep the frustration, or a touch of sarcasm, from his voice. "I understand, sir. I'll be in touch."

Alone again, Spock paced the study in thought, his gaze drifting idly over the tapestries again. When he came to the window, he paused for a long moment. Finally, he summoned the housekeeper.

"Mrs. Aathis, this morning I saw a woman in the garden. She was young, a Danaan. Have you any idea who she might have been?"

His inquiry met with a look of incredulity that seemed to border on outright suspicion. "Impossible. There is no outside entry to the garden room, and no one has entered the house without authorization - certainly no strange women. I don't mean any disrespect, sir, but considering everything that's happened this morning, perhaps the governor is imagining things."

"I am not given to hallucinations, stress-induced or otherwise. It is my belief that the intruder was beamed inside the walled area, then quickly removed by the same means. I wish to ascertain her identity, not the fact of her existence."

"I'm very sorry, but I don't see how I can help with that. The description could apply to almost anyone from the village."

"It is possible that Governor Jennings would know. Starfleet has been unable to reach him since he left the colony a week ago. Perhaps you have some idea of his whereabouts, or at least his general destination?"

"No. He never confided in me, and as I'm sure you've noticed by now, it isn't my way to pry. All I know is that after he retired, he wanted to get as far from here as quickly as he could. He'd been preparing that old glider of his for years. He tended to it almost like it was his chi - well, something he treasured, anyhow."

"Very well. You may go."

She was lying, he decided, or at the very least willfully deluding herself.

When he looked back out at the garden, he saw no further sign of the woman. But, he noted, the shadows had changed.

Inevitably, almost imperceptibly, time had started to run out.

. . . . .

"Something is blocking our transmissions." Janax hissed a few curse words in her native tongue while the subspace radio sputtered and crackled.

Pushing his way in front of her, Naioch seized the controls and twisted them impatiently. "Try again," he urged.

From the back of the craft, Taylor and Zarabeth watched in nervous silence.

"I know what Starfleet's doing," Taylor whispered. "It's a strategy I learned in my tactical training courses. Base command is stalling for time, trying to make them anxious and eager to talk. I don't think it's a good idea in this case. Like I said before, we're dealing with amateurs."

"I can't believe we could come this far, only to lose it all like this." Zarabeth shook her head bitterly.

"We haven't lost anything yet - except maybe some travel time and our peace of mind. But those are both temporary situations. We'll think of something."

"I can't imagine what. You're outnumbered, and I'm in no condition to run very far. Not that we have any place to go."

"Let's just try to stay calm, and observe what we can. There's always a way out. We'll find it."

"We've made contact," Janax announced. "The Federation wants proof that the two of you are alive and unharmed. They will hail us again in twenty minutes, when we will provide what they have asked for. Nothing more."

"I still want to know exactly why you're doing this," Taylor demanded. "Why is this Voral's freedom more important than all our lives?"

"We have already told you all we intend to. The specifics are not your concern."

"I think they are. After all, I'm a starship captain. Starfleet may ask me to participate in the negotiations, and I'll need as much information as I can get to do that effectively."

The two Danaans looked at each other. "This is true, Janax," Naioch said cautiously. "We might need their cooperation later."

"I doubt Starfleet will even consider dealing with you unless I can participate," Taylor pressed. Despite their attempts at verbal bravado, she noticed that they were literally beginning to squirm in their seats. "So come on. Tell us everything about Voral."

Their captors conferred for a few minutes, their heads bent together. Finally, Janax looked up at them, though the phaser still rested, muzzle pointed outward, on the arm of her chair.

"Very well - we believe there can be no shame in speaking the truth. Voral is a man who has been wrongly imprisoned. He is completely innocent of all he has been accused of. Yes, he spoke his mind, and yes, he still opposes the Federation's goal of exploiting our planet. However, he acted only within his rights as a free citizen of Danaaus. He was punished for his beliefs, not his acts, which is in direct conflict with everything the Federation claims to stand for."

"And this supposedly harmless man has followers who are prepared to kidnap and kill on his behalf?"

"We are more than simply his followers. I am his wife, though our marriage could not be recognized by the Federation. We had to speak our vows in secret, or I would likely be arrested, too. Naioch is Voral's half-brother. Again, he is allowed to reveal this connection to no one. It is the only way for us to remain safe."

"Why does Voral oppose Federation rule in your colony?"

"Twenty-five years ago, Voral's father led the Danaans. That ended with the establishment of a Federation governor. Though some were unhappy with the change even then, the majority seemed to favor this change over our traditional ways. Voral was a very young man then, little more than a boy, really. He was willing to go along with it, as was his father. As the years went by, and he saw how his people were being mistreated, he felt he could no longer keep still. It is his wish that the Danaans become self-governing again. Unlike Governor Jennings, he seeks no power for himself, but for those who have been disenfranchised."

"But what other purpose would a change like that serve? The colony is prospering. It has been for years."

"Of course it is, by Federation standards. From our perspective things are less clear. Even since he arrived on our world, your governor has taken exactly what he wanted from us: our goods, our money, even our women. He even designed a special bedroom facing the garden so his chosen favorite could come to him, unseen, in the night. He assumed no one would believe her story once daylight came. He was wrong about that. Voral believed her. So do we."

"I can assure you, that particular practice will not continue," Zarabeth said dryly.

"Perhaps you are right, but in a sense, Governor Jennings' dalliances were the least of his crimes. Our colony was stripped of its culture, its resources, its dignity."

"That's nonsense," Taylor retorted. "Your colony has been visited and inspected numerous times. No one has ever reported any wrongdoing."

"Your Federation inspectors see what they want to see. A thriving colony delighted with its leadership. Who would ever suspect that they kept silent out of fear? Who would know what to look for unless it was suggested? And anyone with the ability to make such a suggestion was kept quiet, sometimes forever. The colony's prison is filled with those who dared to speak their minds. And life there is a torment for my husband. He is allowed no visitors and can receive only one letter per month, to which he is not permitted to reply. Luckily we have spies to tell me that he is managing as best he can. Otherwise, I myself would have gone mad with worry long ago."

Her voice had begun to shake. Naioch rested his hand on her arm. "Janax, enough. Do not reveal too many of our secrets. They may pretend to understand, but it might only be a trick."

"It seems to me you're not giving the Federation much of a chance. After all, however bad he was, Jennings is gone. What makes you think Spock and Zarabeth would have treated you the same way?"

"The point is that we don't want a governor at all," Naioch retorted. "We wish to rule ourselves again, as we were meant to. Now that's enough. Prepare yourselves to be seen on the monitor. Starfleet wants proof you're alive. When I give the signal, we will transmit your image onscreen for thirty seconds. Do not attempt to say anything or I will terminate the transmission. Remember, Captain, you are in no position to make demands."

"Naioch is right." Janax had recovered herself. "It's time."

. . . . .

By the time Spock reached his office at the Embassy, escorted by four guards, Hawkes was already with the newly arrived, and surprisingly youthful, Starfleet envoy.

"We have news, sir," the younger man jumped to his feet. "Your wife and Captain Taylor are alive. Visual contact has just been confirmed."

"Request that we speak with them."

"I don't think we can do that. However, they do appear to be unharmed and reasonably mentally sound."

"If I may restate my position," Hawkes began, but Spock cut him off.

"That is unnecessary. However, I do have an inquiry to make of you. You may explain why the majority of Voral's judicial records are no longer in the database. I have been unable to gain access to certain documents I deem pertinent."

"There's a very simple explanation for that. Governor Jennings was in the habit of archiving his records every three years. Voral's case went to trial almost a decade ago. There was no need to keep those files with the current ones."

"In that case, I wish to know where I might find them."

"And I still say that's an unwise use of our time, but you don't have to take just my word for it. You might want to hear what the Lieutenant Commander, here, has to say before you go sifting through a guilty man's trial transcripts."

"Very well." Spock turned to the envoy, who cleared his throat apprehensively. "What have you to add to this discussion?"

"Well...only this. As you are aware from your days in Starfleet, it is not Federation policy to interfere in colonial disputes, or to...or to bargain with militants. Therefore, as deeply as we sympathize with your difficulties, Governor, we regret that we cannot enter directly into any such negotiations. We can offer assistance with mediation, of course, and we are prepared to deliver an ultimatum that the shuttle pilots surrender control of the vessel to Captain Taylor immediately. Beyond that...I'm afraid you're on your own."

The three men stood motionless for a long moment, each of them watching the other two intently. Finally, Spock nodded.

"You may inform Starfleet that I understand and accept their position, and that it remains my intention to bring this matter to a satisfactory conclusion. Chief Hawkes, see that all files relating to the prisoner in question are brought to me at once. And when you have accomplished that, please continue your search for Governor Jennings. In the meantime, I shall request a personal communication with the shuttle. You are both excused."

Grunting, Hawkes started for the door. Just before he stepped into the hall, the envoy following hastily, he paused. "Actually, I hope they do patch you through, Governor. Any man deserves the chance to say goodbye to his wife. It's a memory you'll have to live with for a very long time."

"The files, please," Spock repeated, stone-faced. "Quickly."

. . . . .

"Do you think we'll hear something soon?" Zarabeth asked warily. "Someone must have talked to Spock by now."

"I'm sure they have, and he's doing what he can."

"I know it's going to take a few more hours, at least. But I wish they'd give us some kind of progress report."

Sighing, Taylor propped her head in both hands. "Zarabeth," she said after a while, "please don't think I'm saying this because I want to upset you. Believe me, that's the last thing I want, but on the other hand I think I ought to be honest."

Zarabeth frowned. "Go on."

"It's just that this little deal Janax and Naioch have planned won't go as smoothly as they think. You see, Starfleet has a policy not to negotiate with terrorists. Otherwise, every Federation colony in the entire sector would go through this same situation a hundred times a year. That's why I said before that I thought they were amateurs. Anyone with even a minimal understanding of Federation politics would know that."

Taylor felt her own heart sink as she watched Zarabeth's face go two shades paler in the space of ten seconds or less.

"It's almost funny - only a year ago, I begged every night for death to come and claim me. When I started feeling ill all the time, I thought maybe I would finally get what I longed for." Zarabeth's arms circled her swollen middle as if that simple act could protect the child. "Then it all turned into something entirely different. What I thought was the onset of death was really the opposite. Now, more than anything, I want to live."

"You will. What you just told me is proof that no outcome is ever guaranteed, however hopeless things look. I gave my word that I would deliver you safely to Danaaus III, and I intend to fulfill that obligation. In fact, I think I have an idea. Will you trust me? Here, just follow my lead." She waited a few moments, then jumped to her feet. "Janax," she called, "we have a problem over here. I think the baby is coming."

Janax spun around at the helm, her expression a mixture of astonishment and mistrust. "Nonsense. It's a trick."

"Oh? See for yourself, then. It's all the stress you've put the poor woman under. No one in her condition can take that for very long. If you knew anything at all about humanoid physiology, you'd know that it can very easily cause premature labor."

Naioch was out of his seat now, craning his head toward the rear of the shuttle as if he feared that Zarabeth's condition was somehow contagious. "It's true, Janax. The Governor's wife does not look well at all."

Janax got to her feet, as well. Just for a moment, the phaser seemed to tremble in her hand. "Captain Taylor, we are aware that you spent many years as a Starfleet science officer. You can take care of this."

"You must be mad! I trained as a stellar geologist, not a medic. I know basic first aid, but that's about all."

"Then that will have to do."

"Can't you at least see for yourself? Or are you afraid to admit just how much harm your actions have caused?"

Her delicate features twisted in a scowl, Janax pushed past Naioch, who stood transfixed - and, as far as Taylor could discern, unarmed.

In less than a second, she'd gauged the distance between her and Janax, raised both hands to her sides, then lunged for the phaser. The moment she did, Janax stepped back and fired. With a shriek of pain, Taylor went down hard, her right sleeve trailing smoke. The frightening odor of smoldering flesh filled the tightly enclosed space.

Moaning, Taylor dragged herself back to Zarabeth, who clung to her in terror.

"It's all right," she managed to gasp. "I'm not mortally wounded - just burned."

Janax moved to stand directly over the two of them, drawing the phaser up to her chest with the muzzle pointed upward. "I am sorry I had to do that, Captain, but Naioch and I did warn you. I will fetch the emergency medical kit."

Opening a panel to her left, she removed a small container and tossed it to the floor beside Zarabeth.

"She's letting you patch me up just in time to blow us all to hell," Taylor hissed, clutching her burned arm in agony. "How considerate. Zarabeth, I'm sorry. I thought I could do it. I just wasn't fast enough. Here, let me help with the bandage."

While they fumbled with the medical supplies, the subspace radio began to crackle again. Janax donned the headset to listen privately to the message. Her wary gaze remained focused on her captives. Eventually she returned to the rear of the craft and examined Taylor's bloodstained bandage.

"Your husband wishes to speak with you in an hour," she informed Zarabeth coolly. "I am inclined to agree, but only if there are no further outbursts. I trust that both of you understand that."

They huddled together, saying nothing, until Janax snorted and moved away.

"That's strange," Taylor mused, grimacing with the effort it took to keep her voice low and steady. "They wouldn't let us speak to anyone before. Either they're weakening, or there's been some development back home that we don't know about."

With some effort, she turned over so she could look at Zarabeth. Instantly she saw that something was horribly wrong.

"Michaela...I didn't want to say anything before, but I wasn't just pretending about the baby. I've been in terrible pain for about an hour now. I think he really is coming."

Given all that had happened within the past four hours, Taylor could think of only one appropriate response. She cursed long, hard, and colorfully.

. . . . .


to be continued

Chapter 3

"Zarabeth, this is no place to have a baby. You have to try and hang on."

"It wouldn't have been my first choice, either. As for hanging on...that's easier said than done."

Taylor grimaced. "Sorry, I've never tried this myself. Maybe I'm better off with a toasted extensor."

Janax returned, her expression grim. "Your disheveled states make it look as though we have abused you. I expect you to make it clear that this is not the case."

"Of course. You've been a wonderful hostess," Taylor retorted bitterly. "I can feel your caring all the way down to my fingertips."

"You had best mind your manners, Captain, or you may soon experience other sensations you will not enjoy. As for you, wife of Spock, you will speak to your husband in ten minutes. When you do, I expect you to plead with him to arrange your release. I have decided that nothing short of an extreme emotional appeal will move our cause forward."

"You obviously know Spock pretty well," Taylor mumbled under her breath.

For the first time since their ordeal had begun, Zarabeth's eyes flashed with anger. "Even if I thought that might work, I have no intention of doing anything of the kind."

Janax gave an incredulous laugh. "No? Even if it means that you, Captain Taylor, and your infant will die here with us?"

"Especially then. Once - a long time ago - I was given a chance to beg for my life. I refused then, and I will not change my mind now. You're perfectly capable of presenting your own arguments, just as you presented them to us. I can, and will, ask that Spock listen to you, but beyond that he'll have to decide for himself."

"You are a very stubborn, and a very foolish, woman after all. I strongly suggest you reconsider."

Abruptly, she pivoted and stalked back to her seat. Michaela waited until she was out of earshot before she spoke again.

"I think I know what's happened, and it's what we predicted. Starfleet has refused to deal with them, and they've been ordered to surrender the craft. This is a last-ditch effort to undo what they've started. It's all spun out of control."

"I meant what I said, you know. If we are going to die, I won't spend my last hours cowering."

"Neither will I. But they know that once they kill us, they'll have no bargaining power at all. I think our best course is to put on just enough pressure to keep them off balance. The last thing we want to be is predictable."

"Funny - you told me the same thing the night before my wedding. And you were right, by the way."

"Then let's hope my instincts are on target this time, too."

Janax returned and motioned them toward the helm. "It's time for the transmission. You may take our seats while you confer with the governor, but do not attempt to touch the controls or I will terminate the conversation."

The viewscreen flickered to life precisely on schedule. Spock appeared, seated, surrounded by the neutral grey walls of his office at the Embassy. Except for the fresh lines on his forehead, and the slightly hollow look in his eyes, he appeared perfectly composed and in control.

"Zarabeth - I am gratified to see you. I trust that you are in no acute distress?"

"Nothing I can't handle." Her voice caught; with an obvious effort, she managed to keep her tone light. "Looks like I'm going to be even more delayed than we expected. I guess that will give you some extra time to get the house cleaned up and ready."

"There is no need," he said quietly. "Everything is in place, awaiting your arrival. I trust that will be soon."

"I hope so, too. Spock, Michaela's been hurt. She's going to need better medical attention than we can provide here."

"It was my own fault," Taylor cut in, holding her arm out of the screen's range. "More of a misunderstanding than anything else, but Zarabeth is right about my needing a doctor. Have you made any progress on getting us out of here?"

"It remains my intention to reach an agreement that will satisfy all factions concerned. If that proves impossible, I am obligated to inform you that Starfleet is prepared to employ other means. Your abductors should know that they will be punished if they persist in being unreasonable."

"Just as I told you," Taylor growled at Janax. "You weaken your own position every minute we remain here."

"That's enough." Pushing Taylor aside, Janax took her place at the screen. "Governor, are you prepared to release my husband, Voral? If so, you may have these women back at once. It should not be a difficult decision."

"On the contrary. Voral was convicted of attempted murder undertaken in the commission of terrorist acts. It is not a charge I can easily overlook."

"He did nothing of the kind. It's true that he opposed the building of your house - he found its ostentation vulgar and insulting. Governor Jennings chose that site because he enjoyed the garden, something that had belonged to all our people before he came along. What did he care if it had special religious and cultural significance to us for centuries? He wanted it for himself, and that was that."

"If that is true, there were, and are, avenues for resolving such disputes. Instead, you chose lethal means to disrupt the proceedings. As a result, three Danaan workmen were nearly killed."

"And I have already told you, my husband had nothing to do with that. It's true that those capsules of neuro-gas were deliberately placed where the workmen would strike them with their shovels, but think about it. Would Governor Jennings have left the site unattended and unguarded, knowing that the project had already caused controversy? No, he planted those capsules himself, or he got Lucas Hawkes to do it. He was willing to sacrifice as many of his Danaan servants as it took to rid himself of his most dangerous enemy. I am sure it was a bitter blow to him when the victims survived, but all the same, the incident accomplished his purpose. Voral respects life in a way Governor Jennings and his minions never could."

"I find your expression of such sentiments somewhat ironic, considering your present circumstances."

"Normally we would never resort to the behavior you have seen today. However, we have been pushed too far. Naioch and I realize that we will probably forfeit our own lives in our attempt to be heard. All the same, we see it as a sacrifice made for the greater good of our civilization. As such, we can accept our own ends as a necessary contribution."

"What she's saying does make some sense, Captain," Taylor interjected. "She could easily have killed me with the phaser, but she only used it defensively."

Spock looked at Janax. "Have you any corroboration for your version of events?"

"I have plenty. For example, why did our former governor simply disappear instead of waiting to greet his successor? If you were to locate his craft, I suspect you would find it laden with valuable artifacts and other ill-gotten gains pilfered from our treasury. Then there is the matter of the downstairs bedroom. He knew that garden held special significance for our people long before it became his. And then he chose to profane it further by using it for trysts with his mistress. If you sincerely wish to locate evidence, Governor, you should be able to find it in abundance." Her eyes narrowed. "But I will also tell you this: any show of force against us, or against our followers on Danaaus, and I will take actions I do not wish to. Desperation may make me cruel."

"I would request that you remain patient. Hasty actions directed at delicate matters tend to serve no one's best interests."

"I hope you will heed your own words, Governor. Or this may be the last time you see either of these women again."

"Understood. I will consider all you have said. Spock out."

Moments after the screen went dark, Zarabeth slumped forward in her seat with a gasp of agony. Naioch and Taylor rushed forward to prop her up.

"There should be a pull-out cot on the port side," Michaela told Naioch, struggling not to let any weight drop on her bandaged arm. "You should have told Spock about the baby."

"No," Zarabeth muttered through clenched teeth. "He needs to concentrate on what he's doing. Besides...if something does go wrong, I can't leave him with that kind of guilt. I've got to get through this myself."

"When you do, you will understand what I have endured for eight long years," Janax said with an angry laugh. "In all that time, I have never set eyes on or spoken directly with my own husband. It is my lot to face every day alone."

"Don't try to exploit me." Pale with fury, Zarabeth slowly turned and looked Janax full in the face. "You might be surprised by what I understand."

---

It took seven pairs of hands to open the inner gates of the prison, a hulking stone structure that predated Danaaus' Federation-era automation.

Hawkes noticed Spock's look of distaste as guards slammed the heavy doors shut behind them. "We don't have to worry about any systems failures this way. It provides an added security measure."

"In that case, you may wait here until I return."

He started forward into the long, dingy corridor, but Hawkes veered into his path. "Governor, going in there might be the worst mistake of your life. They've already forced the hostages to defend them, a trick you - and excuse my honesty - seem to have fallen for. I'm asking you again to wait until Starfleet can pinpoint the transmission signals. Their cloaking device is bound to be primitive, and shuttlecraft itself has neither shields nor weapons. We could disable them before they harm the hostages."

"I believe we have already discussed that possibility. At the time, I determined that it presented an unnecessary risk to everyone aboard. Therefore I shall continue with my present course."

"Can't you see that giving this rabble-rouser even a minute of your time is as good as caving in completely?" Hawkes' face was rigid with disdain. "Your need to play diplomat is seriously weakening our bargaining position. If you want to sacrifice your own wife and child, that's your concern. But I have to draw the line at letting you undo twenty-five years of Federation progress on this planet."

Without breaking eye contact, Spock gestured for the seven prison guards to close in around him. Hawkes looked a little startled when they shifted into a tight half-circle that left him staring at not one but eight resolute expressions.

Privately, Spock was almost as relieved as his security chief was surprised by the guards' choice of loyalties. His voice, however, betrayed none of his previous misgivings.

"Chief Hawkes, I suggest you step out of my way before I have you forcibly removed."

Hawkes' fury swept through the stone chamber like a sudden blast of cold air. Then, indignantly, he moved aside. The second set of doors heaved open, admitting Spock into the inner sanctum of the prison alone.

Presently, a fresh contingent of guards escorted him to the end of a second, seemingly endless, stone passageway. There, in a small room containing only two chairs, a table, and a single armed sentry, Voral himself waited in total silence. His arms and ankles had been chained to his seat.

The most feared criminal in the Danaan prison was far from what Spock had expected. Instead of the rough edges and steely eyes of a felon, Voral had the delicate build of the poets and wandering minstrels depicted on the tapestries in the governor's study. Years of confinement had flecked his fine blond hair with grey and worn the luster from his eyes, though, and when he spoke, his voice sounded gravelly from disuse.

"This is the first time I've ever seen this room," he said, watching intently as Spock took the seat across the table from him. "I am not allowed visitors, you know. Yet today I am entertaining the most distinguished one in the colony. Forgive me if my manners have decayed along with the rest of me."

"That is of no concern to me, since my purpose is not sociable."

"I never suspected it was. So why did you want to see me, Governor? I have heard about the hostages - though I was left here to rot, I am not entirely lacking in outside sources - but I fail to see what I can, or should, do to help free them."

"Then let us discuss a different matter first. I have spent several hours obtaining and reviewing a complete record of your progress through this colony's judicial system. It appears to me that there were several anomalies, not to mention actual legal breaches, in your apprehension and subsequent trial."

"That's no secret - it never has been. Eben Jennings and Lucas Hawkes framed me, and plenty of people know or at least strongly suspect the truth. But no one with any say in the matter has cared until now."

"Unfortunately, that has also become obvious to me. What I am most interested in is some form of proof, either confirming your guilt or your innocence, that will enable me to put this case to rest."

"Proof? Well, you might try asking his mistress - the one he had visit him in the garden room at dawn every morning. Then again, perhaps he took her with him when he fled the planet with his stash of ill-gotten wealth."

"He did not. I believe that the woman you speak of appeared in the garden only a few hours ago."

"Really?" Voral whistled. "That does surprise me. Either he didn't tell her when he was going, or she disobeyed him for the first time in many years. Then again, it's always possible he bequeathed her to you. Sort of passing the torch, as it were." He shook his head. "Anyway, what difference does any of this make? I know you won't release me. I'm too dangerous to the stability of your colony. The Federation would have preferred that I die in this place, and they have provided all the necessary conditions. The one thing they never counted on was the individual's will to survive, no matter how hideous, or hopeless, one's prospects are."

"Indeed, that is a phenomenon with which I am personally acquainted. Perhaps you should consider the situation from another perspective. It is clear that you desire independence for your people. Yet surely it must be obvious to you that this society is not yet ready to manage its own affairs. After twenty-five years of disenfranchisement, it will take more than your ambition to prevent significant civil conflict, or even an all-out catastrophe."

"Of course I realize that, and I'd be very sorry to see that happen. But shouldn't we Danaans be allowed to make our own mistakes? Hasn't that always been Federation policy?"

"In most cases, yes. Our present circumstances are somewhat different. One cannot simply undo Federation rule overnight, as you seem to believe. Besides, your claim to authority is by no means universally accepted among the indigenous population."

"You may be expressing things more politely than your predecessor did, but your argument is one I've heard a thousand time before. I remain in this hell because my very existence reminds the Federation just how fragile a hold it keeps on everything it enjoys here. Our resources, our pleasant climate, even our convenient position with respect to your interstellar command posts - all these are benefits your superiors will not be eager to give up."

"It seems to me, Voral, that a man of your obvious acumen would be more open to compromise than you are presently willing to admit."

Voral snorted with laughter. "Compromise? I didn't think the Federation's representatives ever learned that word."

"Perhaps Governor Jennings did not. Nevertheless, I believe you will find my vocabulary somewhat less limited."

---

Zarabeth lay on the pulled-out seat at the back of the craft, her face bathed in sweat, shuddering as the contractions tore through her with increasing violence. She clutched at Michaela's good hand as Taylor desperately tried to distract her from the pain.

"I was just thinking back to when you first came on board the Copernicus - do you remember how I took you from sickbay to your cabin and brought clothes for you? That was my idea, you know. The Captain seemed totally embarrassed when I mentioned it. I don't think it ever occurred to him that you'd need...well, some supplies once you got to the future."

"He hasn't changed much when it comes to things like that. It's all right – I can figure out a lot on my own."

"You were a full-time duty for me, at least for the first week or so. I had to explain things most of us take for granted: the replicators, ice cream, twenty-second century rock music...."

Zarabeth managed a tortured smile. "Spock has never quite forgiven you for that one. And I have to admit that I did like the food too much. Good thing I had the perfect excuse to eat as much of it as I wanted. But I'm sorry if I was a burden on you."

"No, no. That's not what I'm trying to say. I wanted to help you. Not just because of everything you'd been through, but because I genuinely enjoyed making you happy."

"Well, I haven't forgotten it, believe me. Maybe in some ways it's fitting that you're here, now, instead of Spock. This might be a bit too intense for him."

Taylor swallowed hard. "I told you before: I've been entrusted with your safety. That means I'm prepared to give my life for you. And if I have to...I will."

The grip on Taylor's hand increased to an almost bone-crushing intensity. "Michaela...it's time. I need your help...now."

"But I can hardly move my arm - I can't do it alone. Janax, come here. You'll have to assist us." She gave Zarabeth's fingers a reassuring squeeze, then moved to the side as Janax hurried over. "I hope you were right about people being more alike than different," she whispered. "Our survival - and probably your son's - is going to depend on it."

---

Spock had gathered his aides in the Embassy conference room. Notably absent was Security Chief Hawkes. He addressed Starfleet's fidgety young envoy first.

"Lieutenant Commander, you will arrange for another communication with the shuttle in one hour's time. I think they will agree."

"I'll try, sir."

"It is essential that you do better than that. Now go and make the necessary preparations. Incidentally, I intend to take full responsibility for the transmission's content myself. I will not seek, or require, Starfleet's approval."

"Very well."

Spock waited until he had left the room before continuing. "Now the next order of business. Early this morning, I observed a Danaan woman in my garden. I would like all of you to inquire discreetly among all Embassy employees, particularly those who guard the transporter room, who has been using it to gain access to the governor's house. Please ascertain her identity and bring the information to me immediately."

He watched as the men and women seated around the table exchanged uncomfortable glances. Finally the Secretary of Renewable Energy spoke in a tentative voice.

"I don't think an extended inquiry is necessary, sir. Most everyone here knows that Governor Jennings had...ah, a companion. And you're right about the transporter room staff. They had standing orders to beam her over every morning, or whenever else the governor wished it."

"I see. Inform her - and the transporter room - that I wish to see her at once. She may have information that will enable us both to locate Governor Jennings' craft and resolve the Voral matter in time to save the Federation hostages."

"Yes, sir." They rose in unison and began to file from the room.


---

The baby arrived even more quickly than anyone had anticipated. The disabled Michaela guided the proceedings as best she could, while a hyperventilating Janax actually drew him out for his first taste of open air. The whole time, Naioch leaned over the back of the seat Taylor had vacated. The phaser hung forgotten by his side, and his mouth hung open in wonder.

"Could you turn your back, please?" Taylor snapped up at him. "The governor's wife would like some privacy."

Janax, looking a little queasy, glanced up at him and shrugged. Together, they withdrew and resumed their seats at the helm. They continued to watch as Taylor and Zarabeth tended to the squalling infant.

"He looks like Spock, all right," Michaela joked, brushing her fingers along the tiny, delicately upturned ears. "I guess that resolves a lot of bets among the Copernicus crew. In fact, I just made thirty credits myself, if I can ever find Lt. Arlyss again."

"He's also the last Sarpeid that will ever be born. We've agreed to call him Jarrod, after my father. I'd hoped to preserve not only my own line, but an entire world, through him. Now I don't even know if that can happen."

"Well, I still think we have a pretty good chance." Cradling her throbbing arm, Taylor swung around to address Janax and Naioch. "Let's be honest with each other. You won't ignite this shuttle with the baby inside. I saw your face when you delivered him. You aren't the heartless pirates you pretend to be. Call this game off and let us go home. Now."

Janax's troubled gaze shifted from her to the baby, then to Naioch, and back again. She sighed bitterly. "You are right. We can no more kill you, or ourselves, than we could end the life of this innocent child. It is not who we are, or what we believe in. It never was."

"Janax, no," Naioch's hands, along with his voice, quivered with fear. Janax grabbed the phaser away from him before he had time to protest. "She's trying to confuse you!"

"It's over, Naioch. We cannot go through with our original plan. All that remains is for us to seek mercy from the Federation's authorities. Perhaps, if we turn ourselves in peacefully, our sentences will be less harsh than that given to Voral. If it is any consolation, I will take the brunt of the responsibility. You were merely my follower - one whom I have wronged grievously. I am sorry."

Naioch fell silent, visibly grieving, just as the radio began to trill. Scowling, he leaned over to engage it.

"Janax, they're hailing us," he informed her sadly. "It's the Governor."

"Captain Taylor will respond to his signal." Janax held out her hand. The one that held the phaser remained at her side. "Captain, if you please?"

Taylor took the helm and keyed in the transmission. When Spock appeared on the screen, he looked genuinely surprised to see her there.

"Captain Taylor, please report."

"Well, I guess this is a strange place to offer congratulations, sir, but you have a son. He and Zarabeth are in the back, resting, but you can take my word that they're both doing fine."

Fleetingly, she saw Spock's face cloud with something that might have passed for emotion. She waited respectfully, though, for the expected formal nod.

"Your exemplary service during this crisis will not go unremarked, Captain. I shall request that Starfleet issue a commendation for your bravery."

"I think Zarabeth should get one, too. After all, she did most of the work. I only helped - as best I could." She patted her injured arm. "And believe it or not, you can also thank Janax. It would have been a lot more difficult without her help."

"Please have her come forward." He waited until Janax moved into the screen's range. "Janax, I am prepared to negotiate with you. You will now listen to and consider my terms."

"But, Governor - " Janax began, but Spock held up a hand to silence her.

"In examining your demands, I find that your position has some merit. However, given the means you have chosen to express your dissatisfaction, and the current social conditions here on Danaaus, it would be highly impractical for me to relinquish the colony's government to Voral at this juncture."

"I understand," Janax replied glumly.

"Perhaps you do not, Janax," came a new voice. Suddenly Voral himself appeared on the screen, wearing the clothes of a free man rather than the uniform of the Federation prison. "I have been released - conditionally."

At first, Janax was too astonished to speak. "Voral - can it really be you? Is this some trick?"

"It is not. But please, listen to the Governor's conditions and then make your decision. I am sure whatever choice you make will be the correct one."

Janax glanced at Taylor and swallowed. Her fingers twitched around the phaser she still held in her lap. "Very well. Proceed."

"Upon your return, you will be placed in temporary custody, but I am prepared to dismiss all charges if you surrender the shuttle to Captain Taylor peacefully," Spock explained. "As for the future of this colony, about which you have expressed such concern, it is my intention to gradually restructure its governing body so that the Danaan people can work toward independence at a natural pace. By the time I complete my term in office, a fully democratic process should be in place. Voral may assume leadership if he is voted in; otherwise a Danaan electorate will determine an alternate candidate."

"The Governor has offered pardons to us and our followers as long as we agree to negotiate all future disputes in council," Voral added. "Janax, you may do as you see fit, but I recommend that you accept this offer. After all, your primary purpose has already been accomplished. You demanded my release, and I have been released. The Federation has also issued a warrant for Governor Jennings, if his craft can ever be located. It is time we started a new life - and we should allow them to do the same."

Janax swiveled her chair and looked up at Naioch. This time, he nodded.

"Very well," she said, returning her attention to the screen. "We accept the terms. Captain Taylor, we surrender full control of this craft to you. In addition, we place ourselves at your mercy." She held out the phaser to Michaela, who accepted it with her good hand. "I give you my word that Naioch and I will return to Danaaus as your prisoners."

"I give my word, too. You will be delivered as passengers, not captives. Besides, I'm going to need a little help landing this thing, unless my arm completely heals within the next hour or so." She frowned. "I'm not going to be able to meet the Wellfleet as scheduled, am I? Zarabeth and I both need to visit your medical center, and I certainly don't want to start my first command with my arm in a sling."

"Why don't you make arrangements for her to recuperate at our house?" Zarabeth interrupted. They looked around and saw that she had, with a great effort, managed to pull herself close enough to the helm to see the screen - and for Spock to see the baby. "Perhaps she can stay in this garden room we've heard so much about...since I don't intend for you to spend any time there at all."

"Agreed," he said, failing to conceal the smile that - very briefly - flashed across his mouth at the sight of his child. "But Zarabeth, I regret to inform you that I have had to dismiss not only my Security Chief, but our housekeeper as well. I shall begin the search for a new one as soon as you are able to assist me. In the meantime, we shall have to manage on our own."

"We'll figure something out. The important thing is that Jarrod and I will be with you soon."

"I shall be waiting. Spock out."

"I see what you mean about his being a Vulcan in public," Michaela said as she plotted a return course at the helm.

"It’s all right. You and I can go to the hospital when we get back, but I don't plan to stay there very long. And Spock and I can discuss the rest when I get home."

My Favorite Trek Links

Sarpeidon Chronicle Part 1 (includes links to all other chapters)
Fanfiction.net
...