Star Trek - War Drums Part 4

Chapter Four.

TURROK LAUGHED with youthful exuberance as he sloshed through the cold knee-high water above the dam, chasing creatures that looked like tiny white lobsters. With impressive swiftness he plunged his arm into the water and came up with a squirming crustacean, which he promptly popped into his mouth and chewed with gusto. Worf, sitting on the bank, shook his head and reminded himself that the boy was really eating a fake crawdad generated in much the same way that the food slots generated different delicacies, but it was still disconcerting. Turrok had eaten about a dozen of the slimy creatures and showed no signs of stopping. If the youngster was ever reintroduced to Klingon civilization, thought Worf, he would certainly appreciate ghargh.

The boy stumbled backward and landed in water up to his shoulders, something he had also done about a dozen times. Laughing, he cupped the water in his hands and poured it over his head. Doctor Crusher would be pleased, thought Worf, that Turrok was getting his bath.

The youth fished around under the rocks and came up with another crayfish, which he held out to Worf. "For you!"

"Thank you," answered the adult, "but I ate before coming here."

Turrok looked at the crustacean and decided to save its simulated life. He tossed it back into the water. "Good place," he said, slapping the water like a little kid. "Not want to go home."

That was a new sentiment, and Worf furrowed his enormous brow. Klingon vocabulary had been coming back to Turrok at a rapid rate as they spoke. Worf was no expert on developmental psychology, but he knew that Turrok must have had a substantial vocabulary at the age of three or four, when he had been separated from his family on Kapor'At. He had started out using many terms unfamiliar to Worf, but now he was speaking almost entirely in Klingon. Counselor Troi would be pleased, because they were becoming fast friends. That left only one question-what to do next?

"We can't stay here," Worf answered, trying to think of a more plausible reason than that the place wasn't real. "We must find Balak and the others."

"Why?" asked Turrok, splas.h.i.+ng water on his face.

"Because," said Worf, "you have been killing and stealing from the flat-heads, and that must stop." He used the boy's term for the settlers to make his point clear.

"Why?" the boy asked playfully.

If the boy was going to act like a recalcitrant child, Worf could act like a harried parent. "Because," he answered sternly, "if you don't help me find your tribe, I'll return you to the flat-heads in the village."

"No!" shrieked the boy. "They are evil! They beat me!"

"What have you done to deserve better treatment?" asked Worf coldly. "You must learn to make peace with these people. I live and work with them, and they're the same as us, in most respects."

The boy stood, the water dripping off his scrawny body and his stringy hair. "If I take you to Balak," he said sheepishly, "you will teach me to be like you?"

"Yes," answered Worf, standing. "I will teach you to be Klingon. If you fight, you will fight with honor, not like an animal."

Turrok lowered his head and said glumly, "I can take you to Balak and the tribe, but they may kill you."

"Perhaps," agreed Worf. "But I will die like a Klingon, not an animal slinking in the bushes."

"I will miss this place," said Turrok, glancing around at the park.

"We'll come back here sometime," Worf promised with a smile. He held out his hand and pulled the youth from the pool. Then he handed him the gray tunic and pants. "You'll get along better with humans if you wear clothes."

Turrok laughed. "We only go naked because it frightens them."

Captain Picard sat in his ready room, dreading what he had to do next. He was overdue to make a report to Starfleet about his progress on Selva, such as it was. Information had been extremely sketchy when Admiral Bryant had a.s.signed him the task of going to the planet to "sort out their problem." There were no unimportant Federation colonies, but this one was extremely small and had no strategic value, except that it was located near the disputed frontier of Romulan and Klingon s.p.a.ce. That border was relatively peaceful now and had its own de facto neutral zone, of which the deserted Klingon colonies at Kapor'At were a part. New Reykjavik was the perfect size for a Federation colony in this sector-small and una.s.suming.

Except that this colony was at war and under seige. With an enemy that shouldn't be there and wasn't under the jurisdiction of any power in the universe. Even if the Klingon High Council hadn't disowned them, it was doubtful they could do anything to solve the problem. Only time could stop the bloodshed and heal the wounds on Selva, and time was a commodity the captain of the Enterprise seldom had in abundance.

He pressed the comm panel on his desk. "Picard to communications," he said. "Please contact Admiral Bryant on Starbase 73. When you have him, patch it to my ready room."

"Aye, sir," answered a pert young ensign. "Initiating subs.p.a.ce relay." After about a minute she reported, "Stand by, Captain, for Admiral Bryant."

A few seconds later the round, friendly face of one of the most respected admirals in Starfleet appeared on Picard's viewscreen. "h.e.l.lo, Jean-Luc," he said, smiling.

"h.e.l.lo, Admiral," the captain replied, returning the smile. "You are looking well."

"I haven't looked well in twenty years"-Bryant chuckled-"but it's nice of you to say so. So how are things on Selva? What was all the commotion about?"

Without embellishment Picard related their horrifying discoveries one by one, from their first briefing with President Oscaras to the murder of the guard only an hour before. Admiral Bryant listened in stunned silence.

"I had no idea," he said finally. "What's the matter with those people? Why didn't they tell us about this months ago?"

Picard shook his head and answered, "They want to be self-sufficient, and they thought they could handle it by themselves. Perhaps, too, they were afraid we'd shut down the colony."

"We still might," replied the admiral. "What's your recommendation?"

"It's dangerous, but if Lieutenant Worf can befriend the captive, he can lead us to the rest of the Klingons. From there we'll try to persuade them all to live in peace. If that fails, we'll have to relocate one or the other of the communities. Either way, we have to find the Klingons."

"That could take time," Bryant concluded. "I'll give you as much as I can."

"Thank you," replied the captain.

"Good luck. Bryant out."

The screen went dark, and Picard slumped back in his chair. At least there was no urgent business demanding their presence elsewhere. He touched the comm panel again and said, "Picard to Worf."

"Worf here," responded the familiar deep voice.

"How are you and our young friend doing?"

"As well as can be expected. He has agreed to lead me to the other Klingons."

"That's good news," replied Picard. "I would like to have a briefing in the observation lounge in one hour."

"May I bring Turrok?" asked Worf. "I'm afraid of leaving him alone or with anyone else."

"Why not?" answered Picard. "The sooner he gets used to us, the better. Lieutenant, who would you choose among the crew to accompany you and Turrok in search of the others?"

There was a pause, and the Klingon responded, "I wouldn't want to take a large party for fear of scaring them. I believe Data and Counselor Troi would be the most useful."

"Thank you," said Picard. "We will discuss this further in one hour."

Jean-Luc Picard, Will Riker, Data, Deanna Troi, Geordi La Forge, and Ensign Ro waited expectantly in the observation lounge as the door slid open and Worf entered with a young Klingon dressed in gray pants and tunic. A communications badge gleamed on his narrow chest. The boy hesitated in the doorway, and Worf had to nudge him to enter, but he finally did so. Everyone except Data smiled warmly, yet they were careful not to make any quick moves that might alarm him. The android was busy studying information on a hand-held computer terminal. Ensign Ro noticed that Worf tried to give the youngster some s.p.a.ce, while standing close enough to grab him in an instant if he resorted to violence.

"Welcome, Turrok," said Picard, motioning to the oval table. "Will you please have a seat?"

Thanks to his increasing command of the Klingon language and the universal translator, the teenager understood what the captain had said. He looked at Worf in surprise.

"We are having a meeting," Worf explained. "Some of it may concern you, and you are free to be seated and listen. As long as you are wearing this badge, you will understand us." He pointed to the gleaming insignia.

Turrok nodded and rushed to an empty chair beside Captain Picard, who seemed pleased to have made a favorable impression on the youth. Turrok stared at the captain with fascination as he spoke.

"Now, let's begin this briefing," said Picard. He smiled at the boy. "Turrok has offered to lead Lieutenant Worf to the rest of the Klingons. It may be a risky mission, but it's a risk we have to take. Worf believes that Commander Data and Counselor Troi will be useful in helping him convince the Klingons to stop their attacks and make peace with the colonists. I agree, although I'm a bit concerned about the danger." The captain looked squarely at Deanna Troi, as did Will Riker.

The Betazoid smiled. "I'm sure I'll be safe with Data and Worf. If there's any danger, we can beam up to the Enterprise."

"I'd like to go down to the planet with them," Geordi declared. "Ensign Ro and I have been running some simulations based on the data we've been collecting, and they've got a bad situation about a thousand kilometers offsh.o.r.e. If those tectonic plates s.h.i.+ft any more, there's going to be some interesting seismic activity. And soon."

"I concur," said Data. "I have been studying their findings, and the planet is less stable than the colonists have reported."

"You can bring that up with President Oscaras in a few minutes," replied Picard. "He's waiting in my ready room. I'm sorry, Geordi, but I would prefer to keep you on board to run a level-three diagnostic while we have some extra time in orbit. If Ensign Ro has been working with you on this, perhaps we should station her in the settlement to monitor the situation from there. If they need any more equipment, we'll furnish it. How does that sit with you, Ensign?"

Ensign Ro straightened in her chair and replied, "Except for the fact that I sense hostility from them every time I'm down there, I welcome the opportunity to continue our observation." She didn't mention that Guinan had predicted this would happen.

Picard smiled sympathetically and added, "I'm sure you realize, Ensign, that your presence serves more than one purpose. Plus, I know from experience that you can handle yourself in a hostile situation, like the one you faced when you joined this crew."

Ro nodded, accepting the compliment. "Thank you, Captain."

With finality Picard slapped his hands on the table. "Then it's settled-Worf, Data, and Troi will go with Turrok to make contact with the Klingons. And Ro will be stationed at New Reykjavik." He turned to his bearded first officer. "Number One, will you please fetch President Oscaras from my ready room?"

"Yes, sir," answered Riker, rising from his seat and striding out the door.

They waited, Ro smiling when she saw Turrok mimicking Worf by sitting as stiffly and quietly in his chair as possible. Worf gave him a slight smile of approval. But two Klingons-no matter how well behaved-were not exactly what Raul Oscaras wanted to see when he was ushered into the observation lounge.

"What's the meaning of this?" he snarled, pointing at the young Klingon.

Turrok bared his teeth and nearly bolted out of his seat, but Picard laid a comforting hand on the youth's shoulder. "You are welcome here," he said in Klingon. Then he glared at Oscaras and warned him, "You will behave yourself at least as well as this boy if you want our help."

Still glowering, the big human took a seat at the table. He sat stone-faced as Geordi explained to him what they had discovered about seismic activity offsh.o.r.e.

"That's a thousand kilometers away," Oscaras countered. "We know Selva isn't perfect, but neither is Earth or any other planet. Believe me, we made an exhaustive survey before selecting the location of our colony." He glanced at Turrok. "Maybe it wasn't exhaustive enough in some respects, but we thought all the life-form readings were indigenous animals. I don't see how an earthquake a thousand kilometers away is going to do us any harm."

"Be that as it may," said Picard, "we are stationing Ensign Ro in your settlement to continue to monitor the seismic activity." He went on to explain that Worf, Data, and Troi would undertake the dangerous mission of finding and befriending the other Klingons.

Oscaras looked incredulous. "If you want to send your crew out to die, that's your business," he muttered. "We've got a complete seismic lab, and we know exactly what's going on out there in the ocean. But more importantly, do you realize that not one single member of this away team is human?"

Now it was Picard's turn to look incredulous. "No," he answered, "I didn't. I thought I was sending down the four most valuable and capable crew members I could find. And if you have any complaints about their performance, I'll listen to them, but that's the last time I want to hear you complain about their origins. Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly," said Oscaras, rising to his feet. "I'd better go back and prepare my people for this. Daybreak is in a few hours. I presume you'll be starting then?"

"Prepare them well," growled Worf.

Oscaras made a perfunctory bow, adding, "I can find my own way to the transporter room. Until morning." He strode out the door.

Like everyone else, Ro sat in stunned silence for a moment until young Turrok summed up her impressions perfectly with a loud raspberry sound.

Steamy clouds of breath shot into the air as five bodies materialized in the gray village of New Reykjavik. If possible, thought Ensign Ro, dawn was even colder than night. Luckily, they were prepared-everyone except Data was bundled in a thick down jacket. Turrok seemed inordinately fond of his as he played with the zipper. Worf took a few cautious steps; this was his first visit to the planet's surface, and he looked as if he expected to be stoned. Data scanned the immediate vicinity with his tricorder while Ro a.s.sessed the empty public square and the forbidding walls that surrounded the village.

She took her pack off her back. "This is as far as I'm going," she told Deanna. "Would you like to trade a.s.signments?"

"Not particularly," remarked the Betazoid.

Oscaras and a handful of colonists emerged from the communal dining hall and strode toward them. Seeing the humans, Turrok moved so close to Worf that he was almost inside his pocket. The humans stopped several meters from the party of two Klingons, two female humanoids, and an android.

"Good morning," said Oscaras, sounding very businesslike. "Have you had breakfast, or do you want to get started?"

"We have eaten," replied Worf.

Oscaras cupped his hand to his mouth and shouted to the guard in the turret by the gate, "Is the gate clear?"

"All clear!" cried the guard.

"Well, good luck," said Oscaras. "They should be in a good mood after having killed one of us last night."

Data ignored that remark and responded, "Our communicators are programmed to contact the Enterprise. They could be adjusted, but it might be convenient to have a communicator that could contact you directly."

"Good idea," answered Oscaras, taking a hand-held communicator from his pocket and giving it to the android. "If you find them and run into trouble, give us a call. Although I think you're being foolish, I really don't want to lose any of you."

"Do you have any other advice for us?" asked Deanna Troi.

"Yes," said the president. "If you run out of food, everything on these trees is edible. If the water tastes alkaline, don't drink it. Shake out your clothes and boots, because there is a type of mantis that is very poisonous. And the chucks will attack if they feel threatened. Of course, I'm sure your guide knows all of this."

"Don't let them get your phasers," cautioned a tall blond man standing behind Oscaras.

Turrok was already edging toward the gate and trying to pull Worf with him. Deanna and Data began to follow them.

"We will keep you informed," Data called back.

There were no joyous waves or tearful sendoffs for Worf, Data, Troi, and Turrok. The guard in the tower by the gate threw a switch that opened the heavy metal door. With a feeling of dread Ro watched her companions depart, then turned to find herself alone with the colonists. She waited patiently until they saw fit to acknowledge her.

"Ensign Ro," said Oscaras, "normally, unattached women sleep in the dormitory, but a married couple has been gracious enough to let you have their quarters for your stay. We thought you might want your privacy."

Translated, thought Ro, n.o.body wanted to share a room with her. "I'll store my belongings there," she said, "but I'm eager to see the laboratory and seismic equipment."

Oscaras indicated a stern, dark-haired woman who was part of his entourage. "Doctor Drayton is the head of our science department, and you'll be working under her."

"The lab doesn't open until eight o'clock," said Drayton.

"That's very careless," responded Ro. "Considering the extent of the seismic activity, you should have someone monitoring it at all times." She turned to Oscaras. "Give the married couple back their quarters. I'll sleep in the lab. Where is it?"

"Now just a minute," protested Drayton, "I'm in charge of that lab, and I give the orders."

Ro fixed her with a deadpan gaze and replied, "You can be in charge, and you can give all the orders you want-but my orders are to monitor seismic activity on this planet. You can a.s.sist me or not, but I won't let you hinder me. Where are the scanners? In that building over there?"

Shouldering her pack, the Bajoran strode off toward the second of the two largest buildings in the compound. Doctor Drayton moved to stop her, but Oscaras grasped the woman's arm. Ro could hear the end of their conversation: "Let her go," said the president. "We need their cooperation, and if this is the price we have to pay, so be it. But Calvert, I want her observed both inside and outside the lab. I want to know who she talks to and what they talk about."

"Yes, sir," answered another man. "It won't be hard to keep track of her."