The Objects of Power

by Cheryl and David Petterson

From an original draft and conception by Cheryl Petterson and Susan Sizemore

Return to Valjiir Stories

Go to Part Fifteen

Return to Part Thirteen

PART FOURTEEN

Kirk closed his eyes, slumping against the door to his quarters as it closed behind him. What in Tartarus was he going to do? He wasn’t in control of this so-far efficient conspiracy, and he didn’t like the feeling. Damn Spock, damn Marlena... damn Sulu! Who the fuck did that little bastard think he was? Arrogant, haughty, so fucking sure of himself...

He opened his eyes and his gaze fell on the bed. Costain reclined there. He’d almost forgotten he’d sent for her. The anger and frustration seethed in him, and she was the perfect vehicle for releasing it. He’d prove that she belonged to him, despite the machinations of his presumptuous Security Chief.

He approached her, smiling menacingly. Let’s see just how well you’ve learned your lessons, dear, he thought in cold anticipation.

She looked up, the welcome in her eyes becoming wary, but she rose to her knees, allowing the bedclothes to fall from her naked body.

“You sent for me, Captain?” she murmured, her voice soft enticement.

“Yes, I did,” Kirk returned. He tore off his tunic, letting his anger show only in his harsh movements. His face was still smiling. A gasp caught in her throat, and he ignored it. “Have you been waiting long?” he asked. He watched the quiver of rapid breathing in her breasts.

“It doesn’t matter,” she replied, and Kirk frowned. It was an honest answer, not a designed response.

“And if I say it does?” he said.

“Do you want me angry with you for making me wait?” she asked.

“Ah, but there’s the problem, dear,” Kirk told her as he removed the rest of his clothing. “You weren’t waiting for me, were you?”

She looked genuinely confused. “I was,” she answered simply.

He stared directly into her eyes. “Were you,” he said, and it wasn’t a question.

He saw the fear come into them, her knowledge of his anger and her complete ignorance as to its cause, as well as of how to placate him. It made him all the angrier. Sulu was supposed to have trained them, yet Costain still couldn’t give him the sport he wanted. Spock insisted these Federation women were intelligent. So where was the intelligence in this one?

“Jim, I...” she stammered, “I am here.... for you...”

He sat on the bed, close to her, his eyes staying locked on hers. “But that’s just the point, isn’t it?” he snarled pleasantly. “You’re here, but it isn’t for me. You’ll do whatever I want, you’ll take whatever I give you, but it simply isn’t for me.”

She whimpered, swallowing in growing confusion. He grabbed her jaw in one hand, the other pulling her arm up behind her back. “But you’re going to make it for me, little bitch,” he growled. “If it’s the last thing you ever do.”

Panic flared in her eyes as his words penetrated, as if she finally understood what he meant to do. He let go of her jaw, backhanding her sharply. She cried out, but didn’t cower from him.

Something beeped. Kirk ignored it.

“He’s got you trained for that, doesn’t he?” he hissed. “And I don’t have his finesse, his vicious imagination.” His voice hardened. “So I’ll just have to do my best!”

He began hitting her, letting out his rage and his fear. He had been told the decision was his, that he could dispose of these Federation creatures if he thought them too dangerous. It was Sulu’s hold on them that was too dangerous, and Sulu himself, and he’d be damned it he was going to roll over and play dead while the Empire carved him into little pieces. He’d get his ship back, get his crew back, and send the Security Chief and his pretty pets straight to Hades!

His communicator signaled again. Again he ignored it.

Costain didn’t fight him, she didn’t even try to avoid his blows. It fed his rage. There was nothing left to these girls, no spirit, no enjoyment. He might as well try to fuck a life-sized doll. “Is this what Sulu enjoys?” he spat at her, jeering and contemptuous. “You just lay there and take it? That’s not very inventive. Where’s the legendary creativity, his vaulted originality?”

An abrupt change came over her at his words. She sobbed, her body curling in on itself, moaning in abject agony. He caught pleading words, incoherent rasps of “no” and “please”, indecipherable promises, begging entreaties. It started to soothe him, he was breaking the bastard’s training, she was responding to him...

He reached out, touching her shoulder, ready to begin this new game. Her voice came as a whisper of utter despair. “Sulu, help me...”

Blind fury overwhelmed him. He exploded into renewed, uncontrollable brutality, beating her with savage ferocity. He screamed at her, murderous words, letting her know with each blow that she would deny Sulu or die. The sound of his communicator, still on his sash on the floor, pierced the room and Costain screamed Sulu’s name, then rolled off the bed, cowering to the bulkhead on the other side. His mind registered the shrill, insistent signal as he realized he would have to lunge over the bed, to actually chase the bitch in order to strike her again. He found his anger being redirected at the signaler, knowing that with the situation on Caros, he didn’t dare simply smash the communicator. He reached down for it, his voice harsh and furious. “What?!”

“Captain,” came a soft, urgent voice. “Jim!”

Sulu? The name was forced hoarsely from a suddenly dry throat. “Sulu...”

“Jim, you have to understand, I did what I had to. It was the only way to get your pets’ cooperation, to break Federation women. It’ll wear off in time.” The words came very fast, the tone contrite and almost fearful. “I have a lot of memories about DelMonde, none of which will affect my report, I promise you. Captain, I can’t say these things to Spock, I know you understand that. But I guarantee you, we’ll find a way out of Caros, or take him with us.”

A cool deliciousness began to well up from somewhere inside him. Kirk felt the anger draining, the petty need for revenge being gently coaxed from him with the sweetness of triumph. The peacock was crawling! The little fuck had been scared shitless. This was too good, too perfect. You’re mine, you preening bastard, you’re really mine! I own you! The thought was cruelly joyous and Kirk let it out in his gloating response.

“Acknowledged, Mr. Sulu. Next time, though, I’d suggest you give me fair warning.”

“Yes, sir,” Sulu said crisply, then, more quietly, “Thank you, sir.”

Kirk snapped the communicator closed and began to laugh. It was a long, silky, vicious sound of pure satisfaction. He noticed Costain, still curled in the corner, a desolate fetal ball. It will wear off, will it? he thought. Until it does, let’s see what game I can play with it.

He climbed onto the bed, reaching to pull Costain back up onto it. Her legs were forced apart with unhurried brutality. She moaned softly, her body limp and yielding, and when he touched her, he found her warm and wet and ready for him. He chuckled as he moved over her, penetrating her with leisured harshness. Within minutes, her arms were wrapping around him, her hips pushing up to his, her cries pleading despite the anguish in them. It surprised him, but he took full advantage of it. It was a long rape, a savage one, and Costain responded all through it. But she didn’t once scream or beg him to stop, so it was with mild disappointment that he left her. He called Farrell to take her back to her cabin, well aware and vengefully amused that it would interrupt Spock for the second time that evening.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~|||~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sulu closed his communicator and settled back with a relieved sigh. Kirk was certainly easy to handle, predictable ass that he was. He turned off the screen that had been monitoring the Captain’s quarters, not interested in further scanning. He’d gotten what he wanted, and he didn’t need to see Kirk’s idea of enjoyable sex. When Paget reported back from Rand’s boothing, he gave simple orders, then waited patiently for them to be carried out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~|||~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spock had left. She didn’t know why, it made no sense. He had seemed pleased with her, but he had been angry when he’d gone.

Ruth curled on her bed, trying to calm the confusion that threatened reality. It was ship’s business, she told herself. That’s why you don’t understand. He’s not angry with you, it was something to do with the ship, the Captain.

Wasn’t it?

Or was that real?

“Sulu, please,” she whispered, “I was good, I swear I was. Please, is it real?”

She tried to hear the echo of his voice, the assurance that all would be real until he said it wasn’t. But it didn’t seem to have the power it should, and she found herself beginning to doubt if that had been real. No, Sulu had said it, that had to be real.

Goddess, what would happen to her if she began to doubt Sulu?

Her heart rate picked up, she swallowed in a suddenly dry throat. No, don’t panic, it will be all right if you just don’t...

Anger stabbed through her mind, a sharp laser burn of savagery:

Pointy-eared son-of-a-bitch!

Spock, I didn’t think it! she cried silently. I wouldn’t, Sulu, tell him I wouldn’t! She threw herself from the bed, flooded by sudden, foreign anger. Words and thoughts flowed into her, confusing and wounding her. Reality slipped precariously as she denied them. It wasn’t her, wasn’t Ruth who was thinking fear and anger and murder. Blood red cold murder Spock Kirk words thoughts even worse than words coming from them not Sulu stop them stop Kirk he’ll kill Sulu stop him he’ll kill...

Jilla!

She screamed the name and darkness descended, releasing her, cleansing her mind of others’ thoughts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~|||~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Arms came around her, lifting her from the deck. Power flowed from a dark mind, blocking out the others. She was flooded with relief and clung to the body holding her. It was far warmer than Human, but it didn’t matter. The anger was gone from her mind and she threw her arms around Spock’s neck, whispering out her thankfulness.

“You came back,” she murmured, child-like delight.

She didn’t see Spock’s suddenly rising eyebrow, nor the speculation that came into the dark eyes. She snuggled happily to his chest as he carried her to her bed, allowing herself to be filled with eagerness to please him. His voice was soft, deeply erotic.

“This time,” he promised her, “we will not be disturbed.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~|||~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Caros, Uhura thought pleasantly as she relaxed in her quarters. That means Draco and Draco means minerals that can be converted into lovely credits. And credits can buy temporary loyalty. And temporary loyalty can buy...

She allowed herself no more fancy than that. Take care of one thing at a time, she reminded herself. That’s the way to get ahead.

She had only had to work half the watch. That was one of the advantages of being head of her department. She got to make out her own duty schedule. Normally she worked first watch only, but she had made it a policy to be the one working the communications board when new orders were logged. She liked getting her information fresh, without distortion or rumors. Which meant being on the Bridge when the Enterprise left Darius orbit. But she would be damned if she’d work the entire second watch.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sudden, prolonged buzzing of her door chime. She frowned. She hadn’t wanted to be disturbed while she puzzled out what Kirk found so upsetting about a mission to Caros. Still, she got up, answering the summons.

The door slid open and a disheveled figure stumbled into the room. “Janice?” Uhura exclaimed in surprise. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

Wild-eyed, Rand clutched Uhura’s arm for support. “I wouldn’t stay in Sickbay,” she said, her voice on the edge of hysteria. “Not and have Chapel gloat.”

Uhura guided Janice to her bed and sat her down on it, then sat next to her. “Tell me what happened,” she urged gently. Rand was shaking. Uhura put her arm around her.

“Sulu,” Rand panted. “He sent me to the Booth.”

And what’s so unusual about that? Everyone knows the price of being Sulu’s. “I don’t understand,” Uhura replied honestly.

“He sent me, with Jeremy! Uhura, that’s not all of it!”

Getting tired of you, is he? And he kills people he’s tired of, usually. Are you looking for me to save your skin?

“I’ve done everything his way!” Rand cried. “Everything he wants, always, and I’ve done it all wrong! I was playing the game perfectly, but it wasn’t the one he was playing! I’ve lost!”

What good are losers to anyone? Maybe of some use to someone on her way up. “Did Sulu throw you out?” she asked, her voice full of shocked indignation.

Rand shook her head violently. “No, no. Do you think he’s going to let it be that easy? Help me, Uhura! What am I going to do?”

Die, idiot, came the immediate thought. Uhura tempered it. Let’s see, what do I say to her? “Are you sure this isn’t part of the game?” she suggested. “Maybe he’s just really angry with you.” She took her arm away and stood up. “I wouldn’t worry, Janice. Lay down and rest for a while, maybe you’re just not thinking this through clearly. I’ll call Leonard to come and give you a sedative.”

As she went to the intercom, she sent silent thanks to Sulu for being so helpful in forging the nails for his own coffin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~|||~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sepak stood impassively in front of the door to Valley’s quarters. The evening’s excitement was apparently over, and the Commander had resumed his interrupted activity: the thorough enjoyment of the talents of the Antari. He frowned. Guard duty in these circumstances could be most trying, especially when one had an eager Science ensign waiting in one’s own quarters. Be content, he sighed to himself. It is precisely your position with the Commander that engenders such eagerness among those in his section. And such devotion to your dear brother assures both fortune and future. He wondered if those eager Science ensigns who so pursued him realized that his influence with Spock - as far as the Science Section of the Enterprise was concerned - was nil. Probably not. How many of them would be eager if they did?

His sharp hearing picked up approaching footsteps, and he snapped to attention. Farrell, with a badly battered Costain. Sepak frowned again. The Commander would definitely not appreciate another intrusion, yet no one else would appreciate the girl lying bleeding in the corridor. She should be taken to Sickbay, such things were McCoy’s province, were they not?

“Your problem, Vulcan,” Farrell grinned, and Sepak controlled the contemptuous anger as the Captain’s bodyguard pushed the Indiian toward him. How fortunate for the man’s health that he was the Captain’s bodyguard. He stared at the girl as Farrell walked away. She was barely standing; in fact, it seemed that she wasn’t standing at all, but being held up by some force she didn’t control. She didn’t look at him, or, indeed, at anything, and her breathing was ragged, but quiet. Sepak had almost reached the decision to displease the ship rather than the Commander, when he saw Paget striding toward him. Paget smiled, shaking his head in annoyance.

“I’ve got orders to take her,” he said, his expression clearly indicating that he thought the whole thing absurd. Sepak allowed himself a small sigh. At least it took care of his dilemma. He nodded, almost shrugged, then caught the question in Paget’s eyes. Yes, Jeremy, I will tell the Commander that Sulu has done him a favor.

Paget smiled again and lifted Costain into his arms. “Goodnight, Sepak.”

Sepak only nodded.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~|||~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After leaving Sulu, Marlena stopped in front of her own cabin long enough to have a few words with Farrell. After that, she returned to duty, having nowhere else to go for the moment. She spent several hours in the chem lab, not paying attention to what she was doing. She was frightened, as worried as she had been in a year. None of it showed on her face, of course. No matter what other problems there were, speculation on the relationship between the Captain and his woman was never anything but trouble.

How to get out of this? There had to be a way. Her own Draco blood was pulling at her, urging her to take rash, suicidal action; yet to do so would doom all she had worked for, and, in the long run, be a far greater betrayal of Draco than the destruction of the miners on Caros. She had often wondered why she had never told Jim or Spock that she was Draco. It would have been a simple enough thing to discover, and perhaps they already had. She was as certain that Sulu knew about that as she was certain that he knew everything. Yet, the inborn caution of the mines had kept her silent, and she could not be disappointed in herself for speaking of honesty and trust while hiding her family loyalties. After all, neither Jim nor Spock were Draco.

Still, would Draco understand a picture larger than the mines? Would they understand that what she was doing was ultimately as much for Draco as for herself? With no Empire, with a federation built on the greatest good for the greatest number, how could the mines help but benefit? And if that meant sacrificing the few - or the one - for the many....

She had made a decision while talking to Sulu. Jim had been calm when he left them, but it was a calm that was far from safe. He was in a very dangerous mood. He needed reassurance, and there was a kind she could give him. Given the chance, tonight she would be the Captain’s woman.

Her communicator signaled, and she flipped it open. Farrell’s voice said, “He’s alone, ma’am.”

“Thank you,” she replied. She closed the communicator, took a few moments to steel herself, then returned to her cabin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~|||~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She entered quietly, but Jim sat up, his hand on the light switch, flooding the dim room with light. She smiled, murmuring, “Just me, Jim,” and he relaxed, then stretched with a contented yawn. Had he really be sleeping? What had happened to calm him that much? She began removing the pins from her hair, then noticed the dull, silver stains on the rumpled sheets. There was her answer. She forced herself not to think about it, concentrating instead on being thankful that he’d had a chance to work off some of his aggression. He might not then hurt her as badly.

She was very conscious of his eyes on her as she slipped gracefully out of her uniform. It had been a while since she’d undressed in front of him, and she knew he’d be suspicious, but she was counting on his desire for her to overwhelm it. She turned, facing him, and asked quietly, “Should I put anything on, Jim?”

He stared at her, smiling, his eyes gleaming, yet warm and almost gentle. “You’re worried about me, aren’t you, Marlena?” he said.

She let the genuine concern come out and crossed the room to him. “Yes, Jim. I’m worried. You’ve been trying so hard, and I’m worried you think I haven’t noticed. I’m worried that you’re tired of trying.” She searched his face, swallowing, trying to keep from shaking. “We have to find a solution to Caros, we, all of us. We need your knowledge of strategies, of tactics. You’re the best captain in Fleet and we all know it.” She took a deep breath. “Jim, please, don’t desert us now.”

Jim pushed her gently away, still smiling. “And you’re willing to go to bed with me to insure my cooperation, is that it?”

Now came the hard part. She had to convince him that wasn’t true. She allowed quick tears to fill her eyes. “I can’t blame you for thinking it,” she said, then lowered her gaze. “All I wanted to do was to tell you that I’m here, that I’ll always be here when you need me. And if I can convince you of that only by sleeping with you, then that’s all that matters. As long as you know, as long as you’re sure of me... I’m your woman, James Kirk, and nothing will change that unless you want it to.”

Jim’s hand came up, stroking the side of her face. “Marlena,” he whispered, “it hasn’t been ‘all that matters’ for a very long time.”

There was an edge to his voice, an edge she knew very well, and she glanced up at him. The gleam in his eyes was amused. He was playing games. Which meant he felt confident, and in control. Something had reassured him before she’d arrived. Why hadn’t she realized that? Why had she assumed his contentment was merely from making Costain bleed? Fool, now you have to go through with it, don’t you? And he knows it. But if you don’t finish the game, he may start thinking about why you felt the need to play at all, and we can’t risk that, can we? She forced herself to smile sorrowfully.

“Yes, it has, Jim. You simply haven’t seen it,” she whispered. His mouth came down on hers in a fierce kiss, and she fought the bitterness of being trapped yet again in his games, and returned it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~|||~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time Jim left for duty the next morning, Marlena had dealt with her resentment and anger. It had been as she remembered it; casually brutal, deliberately humiliating. How had she cared so little for herself as to play for it? And how did Jim stand knowing it was all a mockery, a sham? Because he wants the game, not the person, she answered herself coldly. Even after all this time, it’s the game. She knew it was more than the simple fact that he had played master to Costain, who had eaten it up because she was mastered. Jim had boasted that Sulu had crawled. “First Sulu, then you, dear. It is nice to be so important.” But why had Sulu done it? He wouldn’t’ve been concerned about Jim’s insecurities, would he? Had he been worried for Costain? Was she to be Rand’s replacement? He didn’t like anyone using his women that badly except himself. It wasn’t even worth considering how he’d known of Jim’s treatment of the Indiian. He knew everything.

Which left Spock. Jim would want him to crawl more than Sulu. And Spock wouldn’t. Marlena realized she had to talk to Spock before he had any contact with Jim.

She got up from the bed and threw on a robe, crossing quickly to the door. She spoke to the guard on duty, telling him to inform Commander Spock that he was wanted in the Captain’s quarters. She debated staying in bed, then shook off the self-indulgence and got dressed.

She was pulling her hair into its usual fall when Ensign Kramer announced, “Commander Spock, ma’am.” She turned as the door opened to admit the Vulcan, closing again behind him. He seemed calm, but a bit impatient.

“I trust this is important,” he said mildly.

“It’s about Jim, and I think it’s very important.”

Spock nodded and sat down. She took a seat across from him, and had to take a deep breath before starting. “He’s playing his power games again. He’s played with Sulu, and with me.”

Spock’s merely attentive gaze turned hard. Marlena caught the clenching of his fist, and his answer was a disturbingly cold, “Indeed.”

She closed her eyes and bowed her head, hoping it would be enough to convey the depth of her regret. She went on, her voice soft. “He’s going to want to complete the set.” She glanced up again.

Spock’s eyes were still cold, but his tone had only a small trace of recrimination. “We’ve stopped playing, Marlena.”

“I know,” she conceded, “but the situation is critical. To save our skins, he has to win, at least for now. I’ve already let him. So has Sulu. Sulu let him know that his Chief of Security, at least, fears him...”

“Sulu does not fear anyone or, I think, anything,” Spock broke in.

Marlena considered that for a moment, then continued. “Then he’s playing his own game, and that has to stop, too.” She met his eyes. “Spock, Jim is very, very insecure. If we don’t do something it will break everything apart. We’ve been playing games with him, we’ve been using him and it’s been very stupid.”

Spock’s voice was stubbornly adamant. “He has caused us no great difficulty...”

“But he’s not helping us out of this either!” Marlena insisted. “Spock, we need him, and we’d better start acting like we do!”

The soft reply matched Spock’s eyes; wintry, bitterly angry, and chillingly accusatory. “One night with him was all it took, Marlena?”

She turned away for an instant, controlling the impatience, annoyed and vexed at his grim, obstinate disquiet. “No!” she told him emphatically. “It’s nothing like that. We need him. I didn’t say I did.” She saw him blink, and knew she was finally getting through to him. “Spock, neither Rigel nor Draco is going to deal with a Vulcan.” The cold began to settle in again, and she went on quickly. “No one is going to follow a Vulcan. Vulcans are feared and respected, but it’s Terrans who have the power. Sulu left Terra disowned by his family, and he’s warrior class to begin with. I’m a woman. Jim’s the one who will be listened to, the one to make the deals. We have to stop controlling him, stop throwing him crumbs for his ego and make him a willing part of this. He needs something more than power to believe in, he needs to believe in himself, that what he is doing is right.”

“We have tried that before...” Spock began.

“Maybe it’s time to try again.”

There was a short pause before Spock sighed and said, “There are more urgent matters on my mind. As long as Kirk goes along...”

“Those urgent matters are why this is so important,” Marlena asserted. She got up from her chair, kneeling down beside his. If they had been somewhere other than the Captain’s quarters, she would have taken his hand, touched his face. “Give a little, Spock. For now, be what he needs. Make it easier for me, please. Until Caros is finished, let him win. Afterwards, these games won’t be necessary, one way or another.”

Spock wasn’t looking at her and his voice was distracted, toneless. “I will consider it,” he said. She sighed, got to her feet, and his fingers brushed her arm as he, too, stood. “I will, Marlena,” he repeated, more softly. He turned, heading for the door.

“There’s something else,” Marlena said. He turned back expectantly. “I said Sulu let him win. It was over Costain. Jim wasn’t gentle with her. We can both understand his rationale. He still needs to feel that he owns them, and right now, he doesn’t care if that means killing them to prove it. We told him that the decision was his. Even with Sulu groveling, he might still kill one or both of them just to show Sulu he can, that he doesn’t need him or them. We need them, he needs them, but we have to make sure he sees it that way.”

Spock sighed, closing his eyes. For a second, although he stood as straight as ever, he seemed to slump. Then he opened his eyes and looked directly into hers. “Marlena, at this moment, Caros is my problem. It would be logical to make Jim yours. Costain and Valley are Sulu’s. Consult him if you are concerned for them.”

He abruptly left the room. After a moment’s pause, Marlena followed, heading for the chem lab and the day’s tour of duty.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~|||~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kirk was already in the command chair when Spock arrived on the Bridge. They spoke to each other formally. Spock did not miss the satisfied, amused gleam in Kirk’s eyes, but he refused to let the Captain’s manner provoke him.

He sat at his station, surveying the Bridge. All was at norm. Sulu had the Helm. Spock stared at the red-shirted back for a long moment before turning to his own board. It took only seconds to make sure that the Security Chief had disconnected the Science Station from the Security Board. The library computer was free for Spock to use without his requests being fed to the automatic surveillance logs.

An answer that would avoid two unpleasant alternatives. There had to be one. The Empire crushed rebels, mercy was unknown. Draco was notorious for the lengths they went to in order to revenge themselves on those who injured their clan, and Spock knew it was not simply a rumor used by the Empire to keep the mines from inconvenient raids. Therefore, they could not make an enemy of Draco. Captain O’Niall of the Artemis was Draco, and she would then be forced to do everything in her power to bring about their destruction. Which the Empire could then use to rid themselves of the embarrassment of a female captain. It followed that Captain O’Niall would be as anxious to find a solution to this as they were.

Yet they could not simply ignore Imperial orders. They had neither the resources nor the connections to become fugitives for long.

There must be a way to leave us all alive, with our conspiracy intact and prospering, Spock thought fiercely. We prevailed with Halkan. But Halkan had been a simple matter compared to this. All it took then was the realization that, alive or dead, the Halkan people were no interference to mining operations. They had been confined to farming camps, well away from the mines, hardly prospering, but alive and consuming only what they themselves farmed. The Empire had thought this solution unnecessarily complicated, but since Imperial resources were not being used to maintain the Halkan population, they were content. The mines were profitable beyond Imperial expectation; so much so that the Enterprise’s own take was barely noticed.

But Draco cannot simply be ignored, nor herded away, Spock reminded himself. Draco was a potential threat to the Empire, and he suspected the Empire was beginning to take notice of this potential. Draco was an ally the Enterprise needed if the mines on Halkan were to be taken from Imperial control. They could not allow Imperial orders to set them against one another. Yet how to circumvent them without retaliation, and do so in a way that would, at once, save Draco, satisfy Imperial concerns on Caros, and convert Kirk? He needed to buy them more time. They were not yet strong enough to overtly defy the Empire, not even with the Intrepid, the reluctant compliance of Indi and Antares, and, if they were to openly declare themselves rebels, the certain aid of Draco. It was possible they could seek refuge among the Pirates, if the need arose. But running would not accomplish their goal, and Fleet would ruthlessly hunt down any renegades who had their starships. There was little safety in the galaxy for traitors to the Empire. And Kirk’s crew would surely mutiny before following an order to run.

There is no way out.

There must be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~|||~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kirk was relaxed, and as he sat almost sprawling in the con, he didn’t care who knew it. He no longer had a problem. Caros had forced a choice on him: to abandon the foolish hope Marlena dangled before him, or to commit everything he was to it. And die. No way. I’ll destroy it first, and if you two fools won’t go along, I’ll make sure you’re silenced. He chuckled inaudibly, glancing at Spock. There was no outward sign, but he knew the Vulcan’s mind was consumed with trying to find a solution. I’ve already got one, but you don’t think I’ll use it, do you? You think I’ve forgotten dear Illyana. If I destroy Caros, she’ll come after me with all her Draco fanaticism. He laughed again. Let her. I can match her firepower and outmatch her tactics. Relying on a woman, any woman, to keep me in line isn’t very profitable. O’Niall can’t do it on the battlefield, and Moreau can’t do it in the bedroom. Marlena is mine, Vulcan. I let her have a measure of control. Or at least I did. But that’s done with now. I suggest you get used to it. Marlena has, and so has your ace. His gaze shifted to Sulu. You really thought you had me there, didn’t you? But the peacock’s fallen in line, too, and you have no cards left. All on the table, now, Spock. It’s time to put up or shut up. He glanced again at the Science Station. One way or another, Caros will finish this charade.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~|||~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Go to Part Fifteen

Return to Part Thirteen

Return to Valjiir Stories