Constellations (5 page)

During his own Starfleet career, Kirk had already violated the letter of the law on occasion while at the same time struggling to uphold its spirit. Had his actions always been successful? Not at all. Several failures continued to loom in his mind, harsh lessons and hard-won wisdom he hoped would guide him toward making better decisions in the future, while at the same time allowing him to retain the humanity that had driven him to make those early choices—and mistakes—in the first place.

Because of that, he felt for Revati Jendra.

The question now was, where did he—and she—go from here?

“I don't understand,” Kirk said. “Obviously there was no planetwide epidemic.” He waved toward the window opposite Jendra's bed, beyond which was the darkness of early evening. “You didn't wipe out the entire population.”

“Only by luck,” Jendra replied. “When I came back with a new vaccine, I discovered that the contamination had spread, but only marginally.”

“The Grennai's current level of societal development,” Spock said, “including the limited means of travel over great distances, would have done much to offer rudimentary protection against widespread outbreak across the planet.”

“Correct,” Jendra said. “I was able to track the spread of the contagion from village to village, but by then the cases of infection were very widespread and infrequent. I've not seen any indications of a renewed outbreak in months, but I still move from province to province, working as a local healer—a
beloren
—and as part of my routine examinations of the villagers I very carefully administer a preventive vaccine to them in the form of tablets or powders. I tell them it's vitamins or protections against some local malady.” Sighing, she looked down at her hands lying listlessly in her lap. “It's not much, but it's better than doing nothing.”

“And that's what you've been doing here all along?” McCoy asked.

Sitting up straighter in her bed, Jendra replied, “That's right. We got very lucky here, Leonard. Despite that good fortune, several hundred Grennai still died who would be alive if not for our meddling.”

She looked to Kirk. “It was a violation of the Prime Directive, Captain, to say nothing of my oath as a physician. There's a penance to be paid for that, and so here I am. I'll treat these people and care for them as best I can until the day I die. You can't take me away. Not now.”

“For God's sake, Revati,” McCoy said, moving to sit beside her on the bed. “We've been friends for twenty years. Why didn't you tell me? I might've been able to help.”

“If she had, Doctor,” Spock replied, “you would be as culpable in the continued violation of the Prime Directive as Dr. Jendra. Starfleet would almost certainly find you guilty of being an accessory in some manner.”

“Guilty of what?” McCoy snapped. “Helping to correct a mistake Starfleet made in the first place? If I have to be guilty of anything, it might as well be that.”

“Bones,” Kirk started to say, but stopped when his attention was caught by a faint orange glow flickering from somewhere outside the window. An instant later a dull thump reverberated through the room's wooden walls and floorboards, followed by the momentary rattling of the window's panes and a few loose objects scattered on the bureau across from Jendra's bed.

“What the hell was that?” McCoy asked, rising from where he sat next to Jendra.

Having already retrieved his tricorder from beneath the folds of his robe, Spock activated the device, its high-pitched whine echoing within the small room. “There has been an explosion from within a large structure near the village's northern perimeter.”

“The ironworks,” Jendra said, her eyes widening in concern.

From outside the building, Kirk heard a horn blowing, instinct telling him it was an alert signal for the rest of the village. “Spock?”

Still studying his tricorder, the Vulcan replied, “I'm detecting a fire inside the building, Captain, spreading rapidly.”

“We have to go,” Jendra cried as she struggled to rise from the bed. “There may be people hurt.”

“Revati,” McCoy said, holding out a hand to steady her, “you're in no condition to go running down there.”

“They'll need me, damn it!” Jendra shouted, appearing to gather strength as she moved from the bed toward the door. Stopping at the threshold, she turned to regard the three
Enterprise
officers. “And I could use some help, too.”

Despite the rules and regulations, Kirk knew there was only one choice to make.

Komack's going to have my hide.

 

Even before they reached the massive, two-story structure housing the iron smelting factory as well as—according to Jendra—the village's trio of blacksmiths and also the dozen or so kilns used for brick-making, Kirk could see flames licking from inside the structure's highest windows. As he, Spock, McCoy, and Jendra drew closer, the captain noted the large gathering of people near the building's main entrance. He counted eight people lying scattered on the ground, two of them coughing and five unmoving as others hovered over them. The eighth was writhing and screaming, both of his legs scorched black. The unmistakable odor of burnt flesh assailed Kirk's nostrils, and it was a physical effort to keep from retching.

Without saying a word, Jendra moved to the burn victim. Several of the villagers saw her approach and stood aside to allow her passage, and Kirk heard a steady chorus of
“Beloren!”
as she knelt beside her newest patient.

“I'm going to see what I can do,” McCoy said. It wasn't a request for permission, Kirk noted, not that he would have expected anything less from the doctor. Though worried about the potential for their exposure as outsiders here among the Grennai, the captain trusted his friend to use sound judgment even while doing everything in his power to heal those in need.

“Captain,” Spock said in a low voice, and Kirk turned to see the Vulcan surreptitiously consulting the tricorder he held concealed by his robe. “I count six life-forms inside the structure, surrounded by fire. They appear to be trapped.”

Looking around, Kirk took in the scene of Grennai villagers scrambling to maneuver various kinds of crude fire-fighting equipment into position, chief among them a device that he recognized as a form of hand-operated water pump set atop a wagon and drawn by a quartet of sizable, long-haired quadrupedal animals that looked to be a cross between horses and water buffalo. Members of the wagon team were already unloading spools of hose made from either canvas or leather.

There was no way, Kirk decided, that the villagers would be able to get the fire under control in time to save the trapped workers.

“Damn,” he hissed through gritted teeth as he retrieved his communicator and flipped it open. “Kirk to
Enterprise!
”

“Enterprise.
Lieutenant Sulu here, sir,
” came his helmsman's prompt reply.

“Sulu, tell me Scotty's got the transporters working.”

“Not yet, sir.”
Kirk heard the regret in the lieutenant's voice.
“They're still not safe for biomatter transport.”

There was nothing to be done about that now. “Have sickbay stand by for possible emergency triage to treat burn victims, and start prepping a shuttlecraft with the appropriate equipment and supplies.”

Closing the communicator, the captain caught sight of McCoy looking over at him from where he knelt beside Jendra. The hint of an understanding and appreciative smile teased the corners of his mouth.

“Shut up,” Kirk said to his friend before turning to Spock. “Where are the trapped people?”

The Vulcan pointed toward his left. “Toward the rear of the structure on the ground floor. Life-signs are weak.”

“Let's go, then,” Kirk said before taking off at a run down the length of the ironworks. Flames billowed from open windows on the second floor, licking at the structure's exterior wood trim. Kirk spied a dark sliver farther along the wall and was buoyed to see that it was a door, standing open and offering unimpeded access to the building.

“Come on, Spock!” Kirk yelled as he plunged through the doorway, the heat from the fire playing across his exposed skin the instant he was inside. Smoke stung his eyes and he reached up to cover his mouth with part of his hood. Inside the building, the only illumination was that offered by the blaze eating at the flammable materials around him. With Spock indicating the correct direction, the captain moved across the floor of the ironworks, dodging between equipment, tools, and burning debris that had fallen from the ceiling, all while trying to ignore the nagging feeling that the entire building was about to fall down around his ears.

“Help!” a voice called out from somewhere to his left, and Kirk turned to see a male Grennai waving in his direction, the man's frantic plea and the emotion behind it channeled through Kirk's universal translator. As he drew closer, the captain saw the panic in the man's eyes. “We're trapped in here! Help us!”

“Don't worry,” Kirk said, hoping to ease the man's fears, “we're going to get you out of here.” He placed his hands on the Grennai's shoulders. “Where are the others?”

“This way!” the man replied, leading Kirk and Spock deeper into the building to where a group of five other Grennai were lying beneath a set of stairs in the rear corner of the room. A quick check revealed that all of the workers were unconscious, having succumbed to either the heat or smoke inhalation.

The fire was close, Kirk knew, working its way across the structure's wooden framework. Smoke thickened the air, making it difficult to see and even harder to breathe. As he pressed a fold of his robe over his mouth, the captain was sure he heard dull groans and creaks of protest as the burning building continued to deteriorate around them.

Something cracked and snapped above and behind Kirk an instant before he felt a hand on his back pushing him forward. Struggling to keep his balance, he turned in time to see Spock narrowly avoiding a large, burning timber as it fell from the ceiling and plummeted to the cobblestone floor. Embers and ash swirled around the massive piece of wood as it came to rest less than a meter from the Vulcan's feet.

“You all right?” Kirk called out.

Spock nodded. “We do not have much time.”

“We must hurry!” the Grennai cried, his voice cracking under the obvious strain.

Nodding in agreement, Kirk replied, “No time to get them all out the way we came.” Reaching inside his robe, he retrieved the compact phaser from his pocket, showing it to Spock while also shielding it from the other man.

Spock exchanged a look of understanding with Kirk before stepping closer to the man. “Sir, a fragment of burning ash has landed on your clothing. Let me help you.” His hand clamped down at the junction of the Grennai's neck and shoulder, and the man's eyes opened wide in surprise as his body fell limp.

“What are the odds I'll ever learn to do that?” Kirk asked as Spock lowered the man's unconscious form to the ground.

“They continue to defy my efforts at computation, Captain.”

Moving closer to the wall, Kirk checked the power setting on his phaser before taking aim and firing the weapon. Harsh blue-white energy lanced from the phaser and struck the wall, washing over the crude earthen bricks and expanding outward in a near-perfect circle. Masonry dissolved beneath the glare of the phaser blast, revealing open ground outside the building. Kirk ceased firing, and smoke immediately began to filter through the newly created hole.

He set to work assisting Spock to move the stricken victims from their place of fleeting shelter to safety outside the structure. Once outside and safely away from the scene, the Starfleet officers could only stand by, administering preliminary first aid to their unconscious charges and watching as the building was slowly yet inexorably claimed by the intensifying blaze.

“Captain,” Spock said after a time, “you do realize that Dr. McCoy will almost certainly find no end of humor and irony in your actions?” There was a subtle yet still wry expression gracing the Vulcan's features.

Kirk offered a stern look to his first officer. “Then we'll have to be sure not to tell him, won't we?”

 

I think I might actually be getting too old for this.

Jendra's entire body—her lungs and sides in particular—ached from the exertion of hiking through the thick forest and uneven terrain in the predawn darkness, and she was appreciative of the moderate pace McCoy had set. Grunting with new effort, she hitched her modest pack a bit higher onto her back, once again feeling its straps digging into her shoulders even through her thick shirt.

“You all right?” McCoy asked, looking over at her with an expression of concern.

She nodded. “I'm fine.” He had offered to carry the pack more than once, but she had refused, insisting instead on carrying what remained of her personal belongings. With the
Enterprise
's engineer having successfully recalibrated the ship's transporters, Captain Kirk had assured her that the bulk of her possessions, including what remained of the Starfleet equipment and supplies she originally had brought with her to NGC 667, would be transferred aboard. All that remained was to get her up to the starship, and she was damned if she was going to have someone else carry the rest of her things—or carry her, for that matter.