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Authors: Sonni Cooper

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Spock awoke late into the morning, with the throbbing in his arm reminding him of the unpleasant events of the previous night. He had no intention of moving from the bed in the infirmary until he had to. He looked over to the next bed and saw Desus smiling at him.

"You've slept long," the Romulan said. "I was concerned."

"You saved my life last night, Desus."

"I know you would have done no less for me, Spock. We are truly brothers in blood now."

"Yes," Spock agreed. "There does seem to be a bond of sorts between us, forged by shared adversity… ."

"You seem disturbed."

"No, not disturbed." Spock lapsed into thought. What he truly was was confused.

The Romulan and he had become friends very quickly, more quickly than he would have believed possible. He had not considered the possibility of new friendships developing during this ordeal at all. Although brought together by a common enemy in Bull, Spock believed that was not the main factor in their friendship. He had never allowed close personal relationships except for his friendship with Kirk. But he realized that he felt entirely comfortable with Desus. Their physiology was much the same; they were, in evolutionary terms, cousins of a sort. He had never felt that he entirely fit in with the mostly human crew on the
Enterprise
, since he favored his father's race in both his physical appearance and in his personal philosophy. With Desus, no explanations or accommodations seemed necessary.

Spock looked over at the Romulan, realizing he had found a balance for his Vulcan side.
Just as Jim Kirk has been for my human half
. He was somehow reassured but also vaguely disturbed.
These are emotions I should not be allowing myself to experience; they could detract from the successful realization of my plans
.

He felt disoriented.
The aftereffects of the drug
, he thought, trying to shake off his light-headedness.

"Dizzy?" Freed's voice broke through the fog.

"Yes. It must be the medication."

Sounding much like McCoy, Freed responded tartly, "If you lie there and behave yourself, the dizziness will pass more quickly." Examining Spock's wound, Freed redressed it and left without another word.

"He is right, you know," Desus said. "I have discovered it's best to cooperate with them."

Spock looked around the room and spotted a receiver. He began to rise when Desus took the initiative.

"Stay there. My wound is less painful." The Romulan left his bed and approached Spock, knowing he wanted to talk privately.

In a low murmur, Spock conferred with his new ally. "I have no intention of staying here much longer, Desus. I have every intention of leaving—and soon."

"Escape? I have given that prospect some thought myself, but I found no way," the Romulan whispered. "And I have looked carefully and have had more time and opportunity than you have had."

"I have an advantage, Desus. I know Starfleet procedures and codes. If I had an opportunity to get access to the computer, there would be no problem."

"What about a ship? They keep none here."

"There is one. The warden's cruiser. He is due to leave for a conference on Starbase 3 tomorrow."

"How do you know that?"

"My rather acute Vulcan auditory sense. I overheard a guard."

"Why are you telling me this?" the Romulan asked suspiciously.

"Because, Desus, there is at least a racial affinity between us, and your assistance would be invaluable. Will you come with me?"

"Of course …" Desus stopped in mid-sentence when he saw Freed, carrying a breakfast tray laden with fresh fruit, come into the ward.

"Try this, Spock," the doctor said cheerfully. "I think you'll find the fruit more to your liking than the usual prison fare."

It was a generous gesture and fully appreciated. Studying the fruit on the tray, Spock picked up a banana and started peeling it. Finishing the banana, he left the remainder of the fruit on the tray untouched.

"Is that all you want?" Freed asked. "Don't you want another piece?"

"You are a younger version of another Starfleet physician, Doctor. I do not require a great deal of nourishment. Do not concern yourself with my diet. I will not starve."

"Let me take a look at that cut." Freed gestured Desus back to his bed. He checked the wound, and satisfied it was healing well, he left them alone again.

"It must be tonight," Spock said, continuing their interrupted conversation.

"So soon?"

"The cruiser is here. We have no idea how long it will be available. The security in the infirmary is light. What better opportunity would we have? What would we gain by delaying? The sooner we go, the less time for suspicion to arise. I do not intend to be the target of sadistic misfits again."

"Where do you plan to go?"

"That is the one problem I have not solved. I cannot return to Vulcan or, for that matter, any Federation ally. Possibly you have a suggestion …"

"I think I have a solution. I am with you, Spock. I have been here far too long already. Trust me, and you will have a safe haven."

"I do trust you, Desus. My past allegiances are by necessity forfeit."

3

In the underground living environment of Minos it was hard to tell night from day, but, as on the starship, a night cycle was established artificially. Spock waited for the lights to dim before setting his plan into motion.

Freed's office was dark, and the guards expected nothing. He motioned Desus to be quiet and went to the door to check the guards. There were two, laughing over a shared joke. Putting his hands to the door, he focused his thoughts on the guards' minds on the other side of it. The distance and lack of actual physical contact made it difficult to reach them and he concentrated ever harder. his projected thoughts suggested.
Check the prisoners in the ward
,
Check the prisoners!

Desus watched Spock's every move, and came up close behind the Vulcan.

The Vulcan's fingers gripped the doorjamb so tightly that the Romulan could see a dent in the metal. Again, Spock's mind reached for the guards.
Check the prisoners in the ward
. . . .

The laughing stopped. "Joe, I just got the funniest feeling," one guard said, shaking his buzzing head.

"Me, too. Think they're up to something in there?"

"Let's check them out."

Spock motioned Desus to the other side of the door. The Romulan swiftly took his place, waiting. The guards, with phasers set on heavy stun, opened the door carefully. The first one went through the doorway and looked about, signaling his companion to wait. He took another step into the room; Spock's hand gripped his neck, and he knew nothing more. Desus quickly dispatched the second guard.

Spock hastened into Freed's office, sat down at the computer terminal, and punched into the security system with practiced ease.

"Just as I thought," he told Desus, "customary Starfleet coding." He selected a computer tape from Freed's medical file, inserted it into the computer, and changed its programming. "This will foul up the system for a sufficient time, I think," Spock reported with satisfaction. He activated the tape; the computer beeped and then went dark.

Threading their way down the corridors, the Vulcan and the Romulan narrowly missed bumping into a patrolling guard. When they reached the docking bay, there were two more guards to confront. Desus aimed the phaser he had taken from one of the guards in the infirmary.

"On heavy stun," Spock ordered, seeing that the phaser was set to kill. "I want no blood on my conscience."

"There are essential differences in our philosophy, Spock," Desus commented, changing the phaser setting as he spoke. He adjusted the phaser for wide dispersal and fired, stunning the guards instantly.

"Don't touch the door," Spock warned. "There's a backup alarm." He pushed open a panel and deactivated it. "Now!"

They rushed into the docking bay, surprising the guard at the cruiser's door. Desus fired; the guard went down, and the alarm sounded.

"He hit the alarm button before I could fire," Desus shouted.

"Too late to worry about it," Spock called, entering the ship. "Let's get out of here—fast!"

A phaser blast ripped into the portal, tearing into the sheathing. Spock reeled back. The door closed, Desus put the cruiser on highest thrust, and they sped away, barely squeezing through the alarm-activated docking bay portals into the planet's atmosphere.

"Are you all right?" Desus called.

"Yes," Spock replied, catching his breath. "There will be a pursuit effort immediately. They can follow our ion trail."

"Not if we're immobile," Desus said, veering the ship from its straight course. "This is familiar territory," he explained. "The main shipping routes are concentrated in this sector. Naturally, a pirate …"

Spock completed Desus' statement. "… would know the area well."

"Very well." Desus pointed to a dot on the view-screen. "There is where we're headed. We'll drop to the other side of that small planet and wait. They'll be expecting us to make a complete run for it, not to stop here."

"I suspect you have done this before," Spock commented.

"Many times, and it always works," Desus said confidently. "You have a lot to learn about being devious, Spock."

"I have apparently found a master to teach me."

Putting his hand to Spock's shoulder and smiling wryly, Desus replied, "And I can tell that you and I are going to make a superlative team."

Chapter VII
Corsair

1

With the ease obtained from long experience, Desus dodged the pursuing Starfleet vessels and brought the warden's cruiser to a hidden planet in a remote sector.

Welcome to Corsair, Spock," the pirate beamed.

"I find the similarity of this star system to another disquieting, Desus. It also had a planet located between a red giant and a white dwarf. This planet of yours seems to be in a more favorable orbit than the one I am referring to, but the similarities far outweigh the differences. Are you aware of the planet Tomarii?"

"Yes, inhabitants of that planet have intruded upon our ventures occasionally."

They set do on a well-maintained landing pad. Shielding his eyes, Spock looked up to the huge red sun.
The Tomariians again
, Spock thought.
I may be able to accomplish more than I thought
.

Given the freedom of the planet with Desus' endorsement, Spock set about exploring his new environment. Each pirate compound remained essentially an armed independent unit. His arrival was noticed, but most of the inhabitants of the pirates' lair avoided contact with him at first—trust was not easily won on Corsair.

Life on the planet was very pleasant. Its climate was moderate, but Corsair's fortunate position relative to its sun was not its only grace.

The Romulan community to which Desus introduced him made him feel at home. The inhabitants were so much like him, it was disconcerting after his long experience as the only Vulcan in an all-Terran crew. Spock felt completely healed for the first time since the explosion on the
Enterprise
.

His frequent solitary walks provided him with opportunities to study the pirates' mode of operation. He observed and stored the information in his tremendous memory. Arriving home from his afternoon walk shortly after his arrival, Spock found a note on the table in his quarters. In a careless scrawl the invitation read: Come, join me at dinner. Sunset. Captain Astro.

Taking the note, Spock found Desus. "Who is Captain Astro?"

"My rival on Corsair. He is a very nasty fellow, a true renegade. Why do you ask?"

"I found this note in my quarters."

Desus read it and handed it back to Spock, frowning.

"It's best not to get involved with him, Spock. Treachery is his primary mode of dealing with others. He'd as soon kill you as befriend you. He does nothing without cause; he will probably try to use you against me."

"I will not allow that, Desus. But you have piqued my curiosity about the man. I will accept his invitation."

The crimson glow in the sky had deepened, ushering in the long Corsair evening, when Spock, garbed in borrowed navy-blue suit and boots, prepared to leave for Astro's residence.

The Romulan's eyes were unreadable as he watched Spock's silhouette pass through the compound gate heading for Astro's encampment.

The small, very fair man who greeted him at the banquet table was wearing one of the most outlandish outfits Spock had ever seen. His red metallic jacket topped a pair of bright silver pants, reflecting the sun's last purple glow. A flowing cape of the same fabric flapped in the breeze, throwing glints of light from his costume's metallic surface. He made a rather showy bow to Spock, smiling broadly.

"Captain Astro, at your pleasure."

The pirate gestured around him. "My house is most impressive, is it not?"

"Very much so," Spock answered as he looked about. The collection of treasure scattered carelessly in opulent display was staggering. Spock had thought of the Tomariians as indiscriminate collectors, but the pirate Astro surpassed them by far. There wasn't a space visible which wasn't covered by a profusion of objects; the house was a monument to effusive and untutored taste.

"You see what riches you can obtain from taking up our profession," Astro said proudly, "I am by far the wealthiest man in the galaxy."

"You might very well be," Spock agreed.

Spock found the variety of people at Astro's table fascinating. Astro, seemingly of Terran strain, had surrounded himself with the riffraff of a dozen planets. Sitting to Spock's right was Gurt, a giant of a woman from Vega who shoveled whatever came her way into her mouth with noisy gusto. A rather worse—for—wear Andorian with one sadly drooping antenna clasped his blue hands over a wine glass of Tribidian crystal and looked smugly down the table at the Vulcan. A Histite slithered his moist tentacle around Spock, hissing what he could only assume to be cordial niceties. Astro, obviously enjoying his party, raised his glass in a toast.

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