 

                                  CHAPTER 1

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

     Captain's log Stardate 4235.60

     .....After our hostile contact with the unidentified vessel which
     tried to destroy us - and succeeded in damaging irreparably all
     our dilithium crystals,in use and reserve, by an as yet
     unexplained,...

     Kirk glanced at Spock, who was concentrating on analyzing the
     readings that were recorded automatically during the attack

     ..energy field, we are cruising at 0.2 light speed to the nearest
     planet that Mr. Spock has detected up by the long range scanners
     as being plausibly a rich source of dilithium minerals. At present
     we do not know whether the planet has been charted by the
     Federation and we do not know if it is inhabited.

     Jim paused, as he reflected on how often his log entry contained
     those words - if it is inhabited?. The vibrations of the
     Enterprise, leisurely cruising at such a slow speed seemed
     unnatural to him; it just didn't feel right. He noticeably missed
     the hum of the warp engines.

     The noise of the turbo lift doors shook him out of his reverie. He
     would finish his log later, he decided when he saw that it was an
     unusually grim Dr. McCoy that entered the bridge and made his way
     towards him.

     "Well?" Captain Kirk asked

     McCoy shook his head wearily, but remained silent.

     "Bones..!" Jim's voice pleaded

     "I just don't know, Jim." Dr. McCoy looked even more miserable "
     He is stable, but..."

     Chekov, who up to now was sitting quietly at his station, trying
     not to listen to the conversation going on behind him, could
     contain himself no longer. With anguish in his voice he turned
     round and demanded:

     "Dr. McCoy, will he live?"

     At his station, Spock, his face hidden from view by the computer
     hood, winced slightly at the strong raw emotions emanating from
     the normally reserved bridge crew. He tightened his mental block,
     preventing further physical discomfort that he inevitably felt at
     such times. Then, composed again, he too looked inquiringly at the
     doctor.

     McCoy wished he could transport himself light years away. Away
     from these people he cared so much about, away from all the
     responsibilities he carried as Chief Medical Officer aboard a
     starship. "Damn it I am no magician!" he thought to himself, then
     realised that he MUST be one - that was part of his job.

     "Chekov....he is stable, but the energy beam that hit him
     disrupted his cell structure pretty badly, and I don't know how
     much of that can be recovered in time before permanent
     deterioration sets in."

     " Stasis field?" Kirk asked

     "That would delay deterioration, but it would also stop
     regeneration, Jim." McCoy paused, then continued, while looking at
     Spock for confirmation. "If we could get him to Vulcan on time,
     the nerve-cell regeneration field developed by Dr. Corrigan and
     healer Sorel(1), would help him recover."

     Spock inclined his head in agreement.

     Jim swore under his breath; 'On time! - They had no warp drive, at
     this rate Vulcan was over 60 years away!'

     "Keptin, may I wisit Sulu, pleaze?" The strongly accented voice of
     Mr Chekov broke the heavy silence after McCoy's last
     pronouncement.

     Jim looked at Bones, who nodded slightly.

     It was highly unusual for an on-duty bridge personnel to request
     to leave his or her station for personal reasons. But this was an
     unusual situation, and an over-emotional crew member was not going
     to perform up to standard either.' Kirk thought as he got up and
     approached an apprehensive Chekov.

     "Now, Mr. Chekov?" the Captain queried.

     A thoroughly miserable looking Chekov nodded, then quietly added,
     " Yes Sir." He suddenly didn't care whether this would compromise
     his career in Starfleet. Not when his best friend might not live.

     "Very well, Mr. Chekov. Call Mr. Daniels to take over from you.
     Then you are relieved of duty, until further notice."

     Chekov felt a chill running down his spine "..till further
     notice.." So the Captain was not happy with him, oh well, he had
     already made his decision... These unhappy thoughts kept running
     through his mind as he paged his relief- officer. Then, with Dr.
     McCoy, he left the bridge for sick- bay.

     ---

     Jim sat at his desk, a small glass of untouched brandy in his
     hand. He looked up from the golden brown liquid in his glass into
     the deep dark brown eyes of his First Officer sitting opposite
     him.

     "What do we know about this planet, Mr. Spock?."

     "The information available to us is not very accurate, Captain.
     The Federation's first log of this planet is from approximately 50
     years ago. The planet, designated Pl1265, was then in a state of
     protracted destructive war between its many tribal-like groups. It
     was decided then that the peoples of this planet were not ready
     for contact with the Federation ,and the planet has been placed on
     interdict status 6b/sa. Since then, the planet seems to have been
     forgotten by the federation authorities. There have been
     unconfirmed contacts with the inhabitants of this planet by
     various free-traders."

     "Didn't anyone stop these contacts, if an interdict status was in
     force?" Jim interrupted.

     "Negative. When Star Fleet did not intervene in the first
     instance, the number of contacts increased in frequency. It is
     known that even Vulcan merchants have been to Pl1265, which is now
     evidently at peace." Spock paused, raised an eyebrow and
     continued, "No one, however, who has been there seems forthcoming
     about the planet."

     "So we have to break General Order 1, if we go there, Spock."

     "Negative, Captain."

     "What? How so?"

     "The order of no contact has expired 13 months ago, and has not
     been renewed. As I said before, it seems to be a forgotten planet,
     at least by Star Fleet."

     "Well, at least that's one thing in our favour, Spock. Have you
     seen Sulu recently?"

     "Forty five minutes ago. I initiated a mind meld."

     Jim looked surprised at that information.

     "Dr. McCoy wanted to know how aware Mr. Sulu was, Captain."
     elaborated Spock at Jim's surprised look.

     "And...?"

     "He is quite aware, Captain." Spock said softly.

     "You mean, he is fully conscious, but can't communicate?" asked
     Jim with concern in his voice.

     "Yes, he is awake and fully conscious but he cannot hear, see or
     feel anything. Apart from within his brain, all neural
     transmission has ceased. He is undergoing total sensory
     deprivation." At the anguished look on his Captain's face, Spock
     hastened to add, "He does not feel any pain. And I will mind touch
     him every day, Jim, to prevent insanity."

     "Won't that be uncomfortable for you, Spock?

     "Jim, it is not a full mind meld like we have...occasionaly
     ....shared. It is sufficient to touch Sulu telepathically, to ease
     his...alonness." Spock finished and wished that this conversation
     was over. He knew that Jim was distressed by the occurrences over
     the past few days however, and therefore let his personal shield
     slip a little, acknowledging openly his friendship to this special
     human.

     Jim Kirk was aware of Spock's support and appreciated it. He was
     about to take advantage of this rare openness when the terminal
     beeped for attention. At the beep, Spock's demeanour changed and
     his calm efficient First Officer replaced the deep and sensitive
     friend the Vulcan could be to his Captain.

     Jim flicked on the communications on his console. The face of Mr.
     Yehudy Offer, the replacement helmsman appeared before him.

     "Yes Lieutenant Offer, what is it?" Jim tried to keep the
     annoyance from his voice at the illogical disappointment he felt
     at being interrupted and not seeing Sulu at the helm.

     "Captain, you asked to be notified when we come into visual
     contact with the planet."

     "Thank you, Lieutenant Offer, we'll be on the bridge momentarily."
     With a flick of the hand Jim switched communications off.

     "Well, Spock, let's hope we have something to trade with these
     people." He said, raising from the chair, regarded the untouched
     brandy for a moment and, followed by Spock, hastened to the
     bridge.

     ---

     Lieutenant Offer frowned as the communication with his Captain was
     cut off. Although Sulu was his superior, he was also his friend.
     And it felt unfamiliar to be on duty on the bridge during the main
     shift, without Sulu's and Chekov's presence. He glanced
     surreptitiously at the navigator seated beside him, Ensign
     LaPierre. A woman of great beauty, but also of inflexible
     convictions that have often led to heated disagreements between
     the two of them. It was Sulu who would, in his cheerful manner,
     quieten things down between them, before they could get out of
     hand. Now they had to work side by side. He hoped that they both
     were professional enough, to do that without the near hatred that
     LaPierre felt for him surfacing. No, not hatred for him as such,
     but for what he believed, and did not hide. He could not
     understand that LaPierre had managed to get into Starfleet, with
     her inflexible outlook on things, her belief that all other but
     her own ideology was inferior. Her belief that any beings but her
     own were lower on the scale.

     He had asked her once, what she was doing on a Starship, with its
     multi-racial complement, and its ideology of contacting new races.
     He was rendered speechless by her reply: I am here to observe the
     unfortunate inferiors, like you, and where possible to show them
     The Way.

     The bridge doors opened and closed behind him. He felt, rather
     than saw, the presence of the commanding and executive officer on
     the bride.

     "Status report, Mr. Offer."

     "We are 22.07 minutes from attaining orbit, Captain."

     Captain Kirk settled himself in his chair, and regarded the
     approaching planet on the screen. Most planets looked tranquil and
     calm from space, regardless what was happening on their surface,
     but this planet looked different. Spaceships of varying designs,
     colours and sizes were in orbit round the planet, in a rather
     disorderly manner.

     "Mr. Spock?" Jim looked towards the science station.

     "There are 34, ..." Spocks eyebrow rose, he hesitated then turned
     round to face his Captain "point-36 ships in orbit, Captain, and
     two approaching, including the Enterprise."

     Jim looked with consternation at his Science Officer.

     "Point 36 ships!?! Mr. Spock, is that a joke?"

     "Captain, there is no need to be insulting." Spock said levely.
     "Sensor analysis shows that the mass of orbiting debris is
     equivalent to .36 of an average space-ship."

     "You could have said so in the first place." Jim Kirk looked at
     Spock, frowning, until he recognised a humourous twinkle in
     Spock's eye.

     "Captain, I believe I just did."

     "So what happened to the other 0.64 of the ship?"

     "Unknown."

     Jim looked pensive, then shrugged his shoulders and turned to his
     communications officer.

     "Uhura, communications?"

     After a few seconds in which Lt Uhura depressed and flicked a
     large number of switches on her console with a musicians
     precision, she answered; " Incoming, Captain." And before Kirk
     could ask to relay it, she continued, " They are giving us
     co-ordinates for orbit, Captain." She turned to look inquiringly
     at the Captain.

     "Acknowledge and relay to navigation, please."

     "Yes sir."

     "I have them, Lieutenant." acknowledged LaPierre.

     "Sir," Uhura looked startled at her Captain.

     "Yes Uhura, what is it?"

     "The K'S'vaits, that's what they call themselves, have informed us
     that it will cost us 4589 mofeds, or the equivalent thereof per
     planet rotation, for our parking space!" Uhura looked confused as
     she relayed that information.

     "Interesting," commented Spock.

     "Sir, what is a Parking-space, and how can they charge us for
     orbiting their planet?" asked a somewhat irked ensign LaPierre.

     Jim heard a soft chuckle behind him. He turned round to see that
     McCoy had arrived on the bridge and had taken up his usual
     position.

     "Clever people," commented McCoy and continued to explain to the
     ensign what a 'parking space' meant and the ancient use of
     'parking meters, clamps, tickets' and so on.

     "I never knew you were such an historian, Bones," commented Kirk
     somewhat dryly. Then turned to Spock. "There must be something
     worthwhile on that planet if they can charge for orbit and their
     parking lot is so full."

     "Uhura, can you raise someone to communicate with?"

     "Just a moment, Sir....."

     The view of the busy planet changed to show two humanoid but
     radically different beings.

     "Welcome to our humble world. We, K'S'vaits greet you. I am
     K'L'sak and this is my secretary, K'L'trok. What can we trade?"
     K'L'sak ended in a particularly non-grammatical form of Standard.

     "Greetings, I am Captain James T. Kirk of the USS Enterprise, we
     inde...." He was cut short at a strange sound origination from
     K'L'trok.

     "You are of the Federation Police force?" demanded K'L'trok.

     "We are of Starfleet, which is not a police force, although we do
     help in enforcing Federation Law."

     "You are, then, here to stop traders coming to our world?"

     "No, not at all, that resolution is not applicable any longer. We
     are here to trade." Jim said somewhat impatiently.

     "Aah, then greetings once more, what is it that you wish?"

     "We need some dilithium crystals."

     "That will be no problem. Tell us the quantity. Beam down to
     following co-ordinates and we will tell you our price," finished a
     satisfied K'L'trok, abruptly ending the communications.

     "Well...that seemed relatively straight forward," drawled McCoy
     from behind Jim.

     "Hmmm, yes, but...no, never mind," Jim half mused.

     "Captain, the two beings said - we the K'S'vaits - yet they seemed
     of different origins," Spock said as he stepped down to Kirk's
     side.

     "Yes, peculiar, but we do not have time to spend in idle
     speculation. Let's get the crystals and get to Vulcan."

     "Hardly idle, Captain," Spock protested gently as he followed Kirk
     and McCoy to the turbolift.

     "Mr. Sulu you have the...." Jim stopped in mid track. Damn! He
     thought, looked round the bridge and his steady gaze settled on
     Uhura."Lieutenant Uhura, you have the conn." He said and escaped
     into the waiting lift.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------


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From: marketa@kestrel.ludwig.ucl.ac.uk (Marketa Zvelebil)
Subject: Re: IDIC-PLANET - A TOS STORY
Sender: news@ucl.ac.uk (Usenet News System)
Message-ID: <1996Apr1.103527.15209@ucl.ac.uk>
Date: Mon, 1 Apr 1996 10:35:27 GMT
References: <827697800snz@yemeads.demon.co.uk> <HO7IYBAPecWxEwNi@rolyat.demon.co.uk> <1996Apr1.101623.90222@ucl.ac.uk>
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                                 IDIC-PLANET

                        Copyright Marketa J. Zvelebil

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

                                  CHAPTER 2

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

     They materialised into a glass-like, icositetrahedral, dome. The
     clear material allowed a full view of their immediate
     surroundings. McCoy gave a gasp in amazement, while Spock's
     eyebrow climbed up and under his fringe. Their dome was surrounded
     by other similar domes, translucent, but each a different shade or
     colour. In and around the domes were peoples of all different
     colours, sizes, shapes and features.

     "Welcome," the voice of K'L'trok interrupted their observations.

     "K'L'trok, excuse my curiosity, but are all these people from your
     planet?" asked a fascinated McCoy, ignoring Kirk's warning look.

     "You are?" K'L'trok stared at him.

     "Leonard McCoy, Chief Medical Officer of the Enterprise."

     " You and Kirk are humans, yes?" queried their host.

     Jim inclined his head and the K'S'vait looked puzzled.

     "You are not humans?" he said disbelievingly.

     "Captain Kirk and Doctor McCoy are both from Earth, they are
     indeed humans. The forward inclination of the head indicates an
     affirmative state," the Vulcan officer elaborated.

     "Yes, of course, forgive me, I had forgotten." K'L'trok looked
     excited, " Humans, we indeed have Crystals and we now know you
     have what we want." He turned to address McCoy: "Yes, most of the
     people you see around you are K'S'vaits. We relish diversity."

     At this Spock's eyebrow again performed a rapid ascent, while
     K'L'trok now turned his attention to the Vulcan, with what looked
     like a mischievous grin.

     "Come to my chamber, and I shall explain. That will make our
     request also possible."

     He led them through a maze of corridors, passing large numbers of
     various humanoids. They came to a smaller and opaque dome that
     provided total privacy from the outside world. In the dome was a
     round table-like structure around which were arranged a variety of
     chairs taken from many different cultures. Spock instantly
     recognised a typical Vulcan chair, with its high straight back,
     and flat seat, yet decorated with pleasing simple ornaments. When
     K'L'trok indicated that they should be seated, Spock seated
     himself on the Vulcan chair with (he admitted wryly to himself)
     some pleasure. Kirk and McCoy found chairs that resembled those of
     earth-type seats. The K'S'vait sat on a four-legged parabolic
     structure.

     When all were seated, offered and declined refreshment, K'L'trok
     began his explanation.

     "Many years ago our world was divided into numerous states, each
     with their own laws, beliefs and culture. Each state thinking that
     it was most important, and the others somehow inferior to it.
     There was little if any contact between the states. Misconceptions
     about each other thus arose. This state of affairs culminated into
     a global war in which we nearly became extinct. One man, who had
     travelled off-World, before the war started, -oh yes, some of us
     ventured out of our system in visiting ships - spent some time on
     Vulcan." K'L'trok inclined his head towards Spock, who listened
     with interest. "He returned, during the fiercest most destructive
     era of the war years. This man, whom we call Master, started
     teaching the way of peace and most importantly the pleasure in
     diversity. Our world was war-weary and he quickly had a large
     following. War ended and it was decided that the Master would
     become chieftain of all the nations."

     K'L'trok paused, looked at each of his listeners, and then with
     pride shining through his orange eyes continued.

     "The Master postulated a brilliant solution to our problem, one
     that ensured that no more war would be fought in the name of
     difference. He made a Law: that no person was allowed to mate with
     another from the same nation. We, subsequently, built on the
     Master's Law, and now we must increase diversity by mating with
     off-worlders whenever possible," Finished K'L'trok with a
     triumphant sweep of his hand.

     The officers of the Enterprise sat in stunned silence. After a few
     moments Dr. McCoy muttered "This is taking IDIC a bit too far,"
     then cleared his throat and asked:

     "But surely, not all beings can produce viable offspring?"

     "We have the most advanced genetic labs in the whole Universe. We
     can produce offspring from any type of paired peoples," boasted
     K'L'trok, while Spock's eyebrow rose sceptically and he murmured
     softly: "Indeed."

     "How do you get the variety of beings, when you yourself are not
     yet space travellers?" asked Jim, still trying to digest the
     concept.

     The K'S'vait produced a noise resembling a cough, his mouth was
     open, showing light-blue sharp teeth.

     'He is laughing', Jim realised.

     When K'L'trok calmed down somewhat, he blurted out:

     "Oh, Captain, we do not need to go anywhere, we have people coming
     to us. We trade!"

     "Trade?!?!" McCoy asked

     "Yes, gentle-human. We trade our resources for Beings, often for
     those that others refer to as Slaves. We find these Beings are
     happy to stay, mate, and rear their offspring here. But we also
     get ships who bring volunteers who stay, and we reward them, or
     their ships commanders with gifts of their desires." A light
     pause. "That will be the category you fall in my gentle-captain.
     You need dilithium crystals. We need Humans."

     "WHAT?" McCoy spluttered, "We do not deal with lives! This is
     ridi.."

     "Bones!" snapped Jim, enforcing his command with a look.

     "Is there no other way we can pay you?" Kirk asked.

     "No. We will not accept any other form of payment for the
     dilithium, and for your parking space."

     "I was under the impression that you asked for 4589 mofeds, or the
     equivalent thereof and not humans," stated Spock calmly.

     "Well, yes, but do you have mofeds, gentle-Vulcan?" When Spock
     declined to answer, K'L'trok continued with a rueful grin: "Our
     equivalent consists of beings."

     "Beings ain't got price-tags on them!" fumed McCoy before Jim
     could stop him.

     "How do you propose to prevent us from leaving your orbit?"
     queried an annoyed and worried Captain Kirk.

     "We have our ways, Captain, rest assured. No vessel leaves without
     paying their parking fees."

     "Does that account for the large number of vessels in your orbit
     then?" Jim asked soberly, remembering Spocks 0.36 of a vessel. He
     stood up ready to leave.

     Again the K'S'vait laughed.

     "No, it is not necessary, most ships find that there is a
     price-tag as you called it, Doctor, on most beings, and a
     relatively cheap one. We offer a good life. I myself am the
     product of a K'S'vait and Vulcan."

     At this two pair of eyebrows rose, Spock's and Dr. McCoy's.

     "You do not seem to posses any characteristics of a Vulcan, sir,"
     stated Spock.

     K'L'trok merely shrugged, "Obviously Vulcan characteristics must
     be coded for by recessive genes. I do however possess limited
     telepathic abilities."

     McCoy was forced to smile at this statement, knowing that Spock,
     although it was not apparent, was irked.

     "We must go back to our ship, and consider your terms," Jim said
     whipping out his communicator.

     "Two humans will be enough to cover six dilithium crystals and all
     your parking fees," K'L'trok stated with finality in his voice.

     Silently the three Starfleet officers dematerialised from the
     opaque dome, leaving a thoughtful K'L'trok behind and
     rematerialised on the Enterprise a few micro-seconds later.

     "Call a general meeting in 30 minutes of all current bridge
     officers, including Mr. Chekov, Mr. Scott, and the
     xenopsychologist, what's her name?" Jim ordered Spock.

     "Lieutenant Kronika, Sir."

     "Yes, her," and Jim Kirk strode out of the transporter room
     indicating to McCoy that he was to accompany him.

     McCoy started to follow Jim, but then stopped and gave Spock a
     mischievous look.

     "Something wrong, Doctor?" Spock asked, although he suspected that
     it would have been more prudent to remain silent.

     "There does not seem to be anything recessive about those pointed
     ears of yours, Spock."

     "Why, thank you, Doctor," Spock answered levelly.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------



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From: marketa@kestrel.ludwig.ucl.ac.uk (Marketa Zvelebil)
Subject: Re: IDIC-PLANET - A TOS STORY
Sender: news@ucl.ac.uk (Usenet News System)
Message-ID: <1996Apr1.103614.35784@ucl.ac.uk>
Date: Mon, 1 Apr 1996 10:36:14 GMT
References: <827697800snz@yemeads.demon.co.uk> <HO7IYBAPecWxEwNi@rolyat.demon.co.uk> <1996Apr1.101623.90222@ucl.ac.uk>
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                                 IDIC-PLANET

                        Copyright Marketa J. Zvelebil

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

                                  CHAPTER 3

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

     The soft humming and clicking of the life support systems and an
     occasional quiet beep from the overhead diagnostic control was the
     only noise breaking the silence of Sulu's room in sickbay. Spock
     rose from the edge of the bed. He had quickly and efficiently
     passed the current state of ship-affairs on to Sulu, and ordered
     the lieutenant to consider the problems. He knew that this would
     keep the helmsman's mind occupied, thus helping to prevent mental
     imbalance from setting in.

     Only ten minutes left to the briefing, he noted as he left Sulu's
     room. Passing the door to McCoy's office, he saw that the doctor
     was sitting, bent over his desk with his head in his hands. Spock
     paused.

     "Sulu has indicated to me that his medications are making him ill.
     Obviously it is not only my recessive genes that are affected by
     your potions, Doctor," Spock said trying to sound argumentative.

     When McCoy only lifted his head and nodded, Spock became
     concerned. This emotion - desperation - was obviously critical in
     McCoy. He stepped into the doctor's office.

     "Doctor, we have the meeting...soon," he said gently.

     "What's the use Spock, we can't trade people, so now on top of
     everything, we are stuck here, in this God damn hell hole! While I
     can't do anything for Sulu!" McCoy banged his fist against his
     desk. A pile of stacked data- chips quivered and spilt onto the
     floor.

     Spock stooped down to retrieve them.

     "Doctor, there are always alternatives. And you should know that
     the Captain will formulate a plan. As for the parking fee, our
     replicators can produce enough mofeds for a life time of parking."

     McCoy only glowered at him.

     "Yeah, but we still need Dilithium, and even then it may well be
     TOO LATE for Sulu," he growled.

     Spock realised that there was nothing more he could do to
     alleviate McCoy's desperation at not being able to help his
     patient. Therefore, as he put the neatly stacked data- chips back
     on McCoy's desk and started for the door, he said:

     "We will be TOO LATE for the briefing if we do not go now,
     Doctor."

     ---

     Captain Kirk looked round at the people present in the briefing
     room. Spock was seated at his usual place, beside the computer's
     main controls. Next to him a withdrawn Chekov, then McCoy, looking
     totally despondent, Scotty, and two people that normally would not
     be there, Mr. Offer and the beautiful ensign LaPierre who seemed
     to be keeping a hold on her obvious anger. Uhura was minding the
     bridge.

     They were silently digesting Spock's concisely delivered report of
     what had happened planet side.

     "Well, gentlemen, any suggestions?"

     "It's utterly disgusting! This should not be allowed to go on!"
     Ensign LaPierre was outraged.

     "Why? For you everything that is not your personal religion is
     disgusting." Lt. Offer exploded before he remembered where and
     with whom he was. "It seems to me that the very idea of what we
     say we seek, in other words, Infinite Diversity, is on trial here.
     What is so wrong with what these people are doing?" he finished
     with a gesture of exasperation.

     "Mr. Offer, the actual concept is, if strange, not condemned. It
     is rather the trade in living-sentient beings that concerns us,"
     Captain Kirk answered, although to himself he silently admitted
     that the idea of so much forced inter-species breeding unsettled
     him thoroughly.

     "There are a number of issues that have to be analysed, before we
     can accept or reject their definition of Infinite Diversity in
     Infinite Combinations."

     Spock steepled his fingers thoughtfully, and when he noticed that
     there was a marked interest in his statement he continued.

     "First of all, whether increasing Diversity in this artificial
     manner is not in effect contributing to Chaos, and ultimately
     diminishing the appreciation of Infinite Diversity in its Infinite
     Combinations - as these combinations are blurring the line of
     diversity. Surak's formulated IDIC does not necessarily mean
     embracing other cultures to the detriment of one's own. Rather,
     the purpose is to experience intellectual satisfaction in, and
     learn from, The Diversity. It does not imply either, to go and
     create Diversity, although that can be a natural result in some
     instances." He added wryly: "Secondly, and I think you too have
     noticed it, Captain, these people say they have embraced IDIC to
     prevent war originating from the belief that one Way is better
     then another." As Spock said this, his gaze travelled and settled
     on ensign LaPierre. "But the K'S'vaits still have a superiority
     complex towards non-K'S'vaits, discernible by some of K'L'trok's
     statements. And thirdly," he quickly continued before McCoy could
     interrupt with some new comment about recessive genes, "there is
     the manner of obtaining out-world material for creating this
     Diversity."

     "Whether we accept their IDIC concept or not is irrelevant at this
     moment. We must have those dilithium crystals. But we will not
     trade in human or any other beings," stated the Captain in a
     no-nonsense tone.

     "Keptin, permission to go and exchange myself for the crystals."

     "Permission denied. Mr Chekov." Jim had expected something like
     that from Chekov; what he had not, however, was the persistency of
     his navigator.

     "But, Keptin, I must go. Sulu will die. I must.." Chekov rose from
     his seat.

     "Mr. Chekov! You will sit down and be quiet, or I will have you
     confined to your quarters," the Captain's voice sliced through
     Chekov's protests.

     "But, Sir,.. I cannot stand by and do nothing, I volunteer to..."
     Chekov faltered when he met the Captain's furious stare.

     "Mr Chekov, either you will promise me that you will do nothing
     against my direct orders, or I will have you put into the brig! Is
     that understood?" the Captain stressed the last three words.

     "Yes Sir," Chekov reluctantly sat down.

     "Captain, I assume the K'S'vaits only want Humans to produce
     diverse offspring. We could give them human genetic material
     instead of Humans." The calm steady voice of Spock made a welcome
     contrast to Chekovs emotional outburst.

     "Bones..?"

     "It is feasible, Jim. In the 21th century it was done on Earth all
     the time, to enable some parents to have children when otherwise
     they could not," McCoy added.

     "Until, if my memory serves me correctly, Doctor, the production
     via this route led to couples not wanting to have children of
     their own, but those that had genetic material from exceptionally
     gifted individuals only. Especially in what was then referred to
     as the USA, Japan and Western Europe. A high price was paid to
     these individuals to donate their spermatozoids or ova. Unwanted
     children were abandoned and a lucrative market arose in the
     reproductive material until it was scientifically proven that a
     gifted child did not necessarily arose from gifted parentage. And
     to combat the increase of the orphans, the respective governments
     prohibited the use of this technique to all but a few couples
     which had been medically proven incapable of conception."

     "Your memory never fails you, Spock, especially when it comes down
     to reminding us of human failings," hurumphed McCoy.

     Only Jim noticed the fleeting satisfaction in Spock's eyes when
     McCoy rose to the bait. A clear indication that the Doctor was
     becoming less despondent.

     "Any further comments on this proposal?"

     "Aye, we should try and convince them quickly, Sair, we need tha
     dilithium." Scotty sounded worried.

     "I concur, Captain," added Spock soberly.

     "Very well. Dr. McCoy and I will beam down to discuss the matter
     with K'L'trok. Mr Spock, take care of my ship." Jim turned to face
     his rebellious navigator. "Mr. Chekov, you are to report to
     Sickbay and keep an eye on Mr. Sulu, until we return, is that
     clear?"

     "Yes, Keptin"

     "Dismissed." As Jim rose about to leave he caught sight of
     Lieutenant Offer, and made up his mind to include the enigmatic
     helmsman in the landing party. He seemed more openminded then all
     of them. It was also curiosity about the helmsman that made him
     decide to have him come along.

     "Mr. Offer, you will accompany us," he said to the retreating back
     of the young officer.

     "Thank you, sir," Offer answered, pleasantly surprised. He was
     intensely curious about these IDIC-people.

     ---

     In the relatively deserted corridors, one human female, with a set
     goal in her mind, made her way, silently and unobserved, to the
     nearest auxiliary transporter room. It was empty. She had found
     out the code that would unlock the computer and allow her to
     operate the transporter a few months ago. Quickly she keyed in the
     code, worried for a moment that it might have recently been
     changed. But the red-lit "Locked" box flickered and dimmed, as, at
     the same time, the blue box indicating "READY" lit up. She gave a
     quiet sigh of relief, and keyed in the coordinates that she had
     memorised from the communications on the bridge. Quickly she
     pulled the correct set of levers and jumped onto the transporter
     pad. In milliseconds the familiar shimmering enveloped her body as
     she dissolved into her component atoms and energies, only to be
     rematerialised seconds later on the planet. There, the young woman
     went in search of the nearest large gathering of humanoids that
     she could find.

     A lone light marked with the letters TransAux2 flicked on and off,
     on the helm's console. The momentary flicker went unnoticed by the
     helmsman on duty.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Footnotes and explanations

Next chapter.


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From: marketa@kestrel.ludwig.ucl.ac.uk (Marketa Zvelebil)
Subject: Re: IDIC-PLANET - A TOS STORY
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                                 IDIC-PLANET

                        Copyright Marketa J. Zvelebil

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

                                  CHAPTER 4

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

     The Captain, Dr. McCoy and Lieutenant Offer materialised in to
     what seemed to be the waiting dome of K'L'troks office. There they
     were asked by a humanoid woman of unrecognisable origins, to wait
     for K'L'trok who was detained by a trading delegation from the
     artisan-colony of the planet named Havel, after a 20th century
     Earth play-wright who had successfully led a peaceful revolution
     to free his country from the iron grip of dictatorship. These
     Havelians, all descendants from that small Earth- country, relied
     heavily on trade for all their necessary nano-technological
     provisions. It bothered Captain Kirk, who always had held an
     admiration for the actual president Havel, to realise that these
     people were now obviously trading themselves to satisfy their
     basic needs. Suddenly a thought hit him - "But Havelians were pure
     humans. Surely then the K'S'vaits had no need for further Humans!
     Or have the Havelians deviated so far from their original
     ideologies that they would engage in SLAVE- trading!" He would
     have to find out. Jim put his hand on his stomach. The whole
     situation was giving him a large dose of indigestion. An ulcer was
     just waiting to happen.

     Restlessly Jim wondered round the dome, oblivious to McCoys
     pursuing concerned gaze. Jim's own eyes were drawn over to where
     Lieutenant Offer was leaning against the table-like structure. The
     lieutenant seemed totally relaxed. He was observing the multitude
     of beings, visible through the dome walls. A look of wonderment,
     inspired by a child-like curiosity played across his face. A thin
     but satisfied smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. One hand
     played thoughtlessly with the non-regulation kippa pinned on top
     of his curly hair.

     "Mr. Offer, you seem to find this situation interesting and it
     does not seem to bother you at all - I find THAT interesting.
     Especially with respect to the fact that you profess yourself to
     practice your religious belief," Jim said suddenly and indicated
     the kippa. McCoy now strolled over to join them.

     Lieutenant Offer grinned. He unpinned the non-regulation piece of
     clothing and stuffed it irreverently into a pocket.

     "Sorry, Captain," and when Jim started to say that he didn't mind
     people's religious accessories as long as they did not interfere
     with their duty, Lieutenant Offer hastened to explain.

     "Captain, when I came aboard the Enterprise, I never wore the
     Kippa, except during prayer-gatherings. But when I met LaPierre, I
     took to wearing it....just to annoy her," he finished sheepishly.

     "That still doesn't explain to me your near approval of this
     culture."

     "Captain, although I was brought up in MY religion and culture,
     that doesn't mean that I think it is the ONLY way to follow. I was
     taught to rejoice in Diversity as well. We even have a blessing
     which is recited upon encountering diversity; 'Baruch atah adonai
     eloheinu melech haolam. mishane ha'brijot.' Which means; 'Blessed
     are you, the lord our God, King of the Universe, who varies the
     forms of his creatures.' And personally I see tolerance for other
     beings and ideas as immensely important. That is my credo. I would
     not hesitate to mate outside my belief or culture, and respect my
     partner's differences. I would expect she would respect mine. Then
     our children could be taught both ways which I hope would enrich
     them and enlarge their perspective about this Galaxy," finished a
     now somewhat embarrassed Offer.

     "Bravo!" the unexpected exclamation came from the entrance to the
     dome. K'L'trok stood there in a dazzling robe created by a
     multitude of shades of radiant colours. He slowly came towards
     them, a self-assured and content look on his face.

     "Is this one of the Humans you bring us, Captain? I like your
     choice - this is a prime candidate." He added inspecting
     Lieutenant Offer from top to bottom.

     "K'L'trok, we need to talk," said Jim Kirk, trying to hold on to
     his temper. Just the thought of considering someone like
     lieutenant Offer as a tradeable commodity, made him see red.

     K'L'trok sighed and shook his head from one shoulder to the other
     and back again several times. "Very well, gentle-captain, please
     come this way," and led them to the same room they had their first
     meeting in.

     ---

     Nobody took any notice of the human female, as she made her way
     towards the group of young K'S'vaits, who were chatting idly.
     These K'S'vaits happened to be a group of students from the
     college of Genotechnical-philosophy and Xenobioecology.

     They had just finished a class on the Master's Law, and were
     debating the advantages and disadvantages of said Law. From some
     of the threads of conversation, that the universal translator
     started to decode, the young woman got the impression that not all
     these K'S'vaits agreed with the Law.

     LaPierre was overjoyed. Obviously it was her destiny that she
     should be able to come here at this time and show these poor
     beings the True and Only Way. The way of Unity, the Reality, The
     way of One.

     As the quality of the translation improved, she tried to engage
     some of the more promising students in conversation, slowly
     introducing ideas inherent in her belief. They seemed to consider
     these ideas, discuss them, even accept them, but then they would
     end the discussion by a fool-proof argument against them. This
     debate between the students and the unsuspecting woman went on
     until it dawned on her that these beings were considering all her
     arguments purely as a form of intellectual exercise. She was so
     engrossed in her discussions that she did not notice one K'S'vait
     observing her with great interest. He now made his way towards
     her.

     "Pardon, but you are a stranger here, are you not?"

     She spun round and faced a tall being with handsome Romulan-like
     facial features.

     "Come with me," he said taking her by the arm.

     She twisted free of his hold: "Why should I?"

     "Because you seem to have similar ideas to mine and my friends.
     Because you are from the Federation ship, currently in orbit round
     this prison. You could help us enormously. But we cannot talk
     here." he finished while propelling her to a ground-vehicle.

     ---

     There were few people on the bridge. Spock was at his science
     station analysing complete spectral scans of the planet rotating
     leisurely below. It was indeed a planet rich in numerous raw
     materials in demand by many space-faring cultures for their
     potentially high energy output, dilithium being only one of them.

     "Sickbay to bridge," Christine Chapel's disembodied voice broke
     the calm of the bridge.

     Spock took a few long strides to the Captain's chair, pressed the
     desired switch: "Spock here."

     "Mr. Spock, we must get Dr. McCoy back. Sulu seems to be
     deteriorating. His vital signs are fluctuating alarmingly." The
     urgency in her voice stressed the exigency of the situation.

     "Acknowledged, Spock out. Uhura contact the Captain and Dr.
     McCoy."

     "Yes Sir."

     Spock waited calmly as Uhura's fingers danced over the comm.
     board. A minute passed, then another.

     "Sir, I can't raise them. There is too much interference from the
     other ships and also from the planet itself to be able to
     penetrate to where they are." Uhura turned apologetically towards
     Spock.

     " I was afraid of that. My recent analysis indicated that the Main
     Dome is made of a high energy single crystal of Urascium. Keep
     trying, Lieutenant."

     Spock did not like the way this situation was developing.
     Logically he should stay on the bridge, while the Captain was
     unavailable and out of contact. Logically he should not submit
     himself, as the senior officer, to a potentially disrupting
     experience such as the mind meld. But Mr. Sulu's chance of living
     may depend on the only contact he had with the outside world:
     Spock. It was extraordinary, in fact, that Mr. Sulu had not
     reached this withdrawal state earlier. Total sensory deprivation
     was known to drive people mad in a very short time, and had been
     used on many worlds as a form of torture. Should he disregard his
     duties and try to help Mr. Sulu? After all, the well-being of the
     crew was also his responsibility. In this it did differ from the
     last time he was faced with this kind of decision, when only his
     blood could save his father's life. The needs of the many outweigh
     the needs of the few. But in this instance there was, at present,
     only the pressing need of Mr. Sulu.

     "Anything, Lieutenant?"

     "No, Sir, I'm trying to cross-circuit and redirect the nano-waves
     with the pico-hertz frequency, to penetrate the anisotropic
     vibrational molecular energies of the dome. That should enable me
     to make contact soon."

     "Very well, Lieutenant. I will be in Sickbay. Notify Mr. Scott of
     the situation."

     "Yes Sir, and...Sir..?"

     "Yes Lieutenant?"

     "Nothing, Sir."

     ---

     Sulu's room was filled with alarms bleeping for attention, and
     flashing lights warning that his condition was rapidly becoming
     worse.

     Christine Chapel was attempting to stabilise her patient with
     injections of digoxinglycoside to stimulate the heart and
     anapertofin to increase brain-wave activity. Chekov hovered
     nervously round Sulu's bed.

     "Condition?" enquired Mr.Spock upon entering.

     "Deteriorating fast. Did you contact Dr. McCoy?" asked an anxious
     Chapel.

     "Lieutenant Uhura is doing that. Nurse, allow me some privacy - I
     shall use the mind meld on Mr. Sulu."

     "Mr. Spock, are you sure? It could be very dangerous in his
     current state."

     "His current state is the very reason for attempting the
     mind-meld. Please, leave us alone, if medically possible." Chapel
     nodded. Chekov looked somewhat reluctant. "Now Mr. Chekov." Spock
     said quietly but with such force of command that the ensign obeyed
     immediately.

     Before Chapel left she had redirected the life support indicator
     alarms and diagnostic computer readings to McCoy's office, where
     she could keep an eye on them. A blessed silence descended on the
     room.

     Spock sat on Sulu's bed and composed himself. Long fingers touched
     Sulu's face, positioning themselves with precision over the
     cranial nerve centres. He entered carefully. Then reached down
     deeper into Sulu's mind. He met no resistance. In fact, he met
     nothing at all. He reached deeper, allowing his own shields to
     slip so that he could search for Sulu's self. At last he felt
     Sulu's tenuous consciousness, weak - about to give up life, to
     depart, to embrace the mysteries of death.

     "SULU! - Open to me, Hikaru. Let me in...closer now." Spock felt
     feeble resistance. Again he reached, deeper and deeper, through
     the enveloping darkness. He touched Sulu's consciousness, took
     hold of it and held it. He let Sulu know that he wasn't alone, he
     debated, argued with the thin-thread that was left of Sulu.
     Telling him that the Captain, Chekov, Uhura needed him. He allowed
     Sulu to breach his own privacy, showing him part of his mind.
     Suddenly Sulu's mind came alive. Unwittingly it violated the
     innermost-self of Spock, intruding unbearably. Spock blocked, but
     his considerable Vulcan discipline allowed him to do it gently. He
     withdrew slowly and carefully from the deep meld, alleviating
     Sulu's feeling of non-existence.

     The readings on the life-support and diagnostic systems had
     stabilised. Chapel gave a deep sigh of relief and allowed herself
     a small smile.

     Dr. McCoy burst into Sickbay just in time to see a grey- faced
     Vulcan staggering, trying to get up from Sulu's bed and managing
     at last to stand.

     "What the hell is going on? What are you up to, Spock?" he
     exploded, concern making him angry.

     "Up to, Doctor?" Spock managed, in a hoarse voice, much to his
     consternation. "I shall leave you now with your patient."

     "You are not going anywhere in your state, Spock, except to lie
     down on the bed next to Sulu's." McCoy barred his way.

     "Doctor, I do not have the time to argue at present," Spock said
     in a stronger voice.

     "Spock.....," McCoy warned dangerously.

     "Thank you for your professional concern, but now I must return to
     the bridge," Spock said dispassionately, then neatly side-stepped
     the doctor and slipped out before the good doctor could gather his
     breath for an appropriate reply.

     "Damn that green-blooded, pointy-eared Vulcan!" he exclaimed
     instead, concern for both Sulu and Spock gnawing at him. He turned
     towards nurse Chapel, who was once again attending to the
     Lieutenant's needs.

     "In the name of Great Galaxies, what happened here, Christine?" he
     snapped.

     ---

     Captain Kirk strode onto the bridge angry. Angry because the
     meeting with K'L'trok was fruitless. Angry because he felt unable
     to do anything about the situation. Angry because he was worried
     about Sulu, about the best helmsman he had ever had, and a loyal
     friend. He recalled the many times that Hikaru's fast responses
     had saved them from becoming energy waves spread out in space. He
     remembered the time that Sulu's preocupation with playing
     tank-games had saved them from attack by 7 Klingon ships, who
     badly wanted to prevent the Enterprise from testing out K't'lk's
     inversion drive(2). Still deep in thought, he called on Mr. Spock
     to report the status of the ship, as the preliminary to a
     discussion about the present problem. When no immediate
     acknowledgement came, he realised that his first officer was
     absent. He was about to turn to Uhura for an explanation, when Mr
     Spock walked onto the bridge, looking decidedly unwell for a
     Vulcan. In his pent up anger, frustration and an added worry upon
     seeing the Vulcan in this state, Jim snapped furiously:

     "What the devil have you been doing off the bridge at a time like
     this!?!"

     Spock flinched inwardly. The full force of his Captain's mixed
     emotions penetrated his weakened mind-shields and physically
     assaulting his senses. He mustered all his energy to reply stiffly
     while making his way back to his station:

     "The logic of the situation dictated a mind-meld with Mr. Sulu, to
     circumvent his death. Sir."

     The anger that had gripped the Captain, upon not finding Spock on
     the bridge, was now replaced immediately by guilt. Venting anger
     and frustration on his most trustworthy officer, just because he
     wasn't there when Jim wanted to talk to him, was bad indeed. He
     should have known that Spock would have had a very good reason to
     abandon his duties on the bridge. Captain Kirk punched his
     communication toggle, contacted sickbay and quietly got the whole
     story out of Chapel and McCoy.

     "Thanks, keep me informed, Bones," he ended.

     He looked towards where Spock, still grey and withdrawn, had
     resumed his analysis of the Planet's ionosphere. Jim rose and
     approached Spock.

     "Are you feeling alright, Mr. Spock?" he asked quietly

     "I am well, Captain."

     'And they say Vulcans never lie,' Jim thought and said:

     "Thank you for what you did for Mr. Sulu."

     "One does not thank logic, Captain."

     "Spock, I am sorry if I offended you, but...," Jim tried to find
     the right words.

     "There is no offence, where none is taken," Spock quoted.

     "Spock!" Jim looked at his friend in consternation. This was Spock
     at his most unapproachable - more Vulcan than Vulcan. And it was
     his fault, Jim thought, self-guilt washing over him.

     Spock felt Kirk's emotions, again, much more acutely than
     normally. He looked at his Captain, and saw the worry in the
     Captain's eyes. His own features softened slightly.

     "Jim, I am fine. I just need to have some time to recover from the
     mind-meld." He said it so quietly that even Jim, standing next to
     him had to strain to hear.

     Jim nodded once, then in a loud voice said:

     "Uhura, notify Doctor McCoy that there will be a meeting in my
     quarters in 15 minutes to discuss the situation. Lieutenant Offer,
     your presence will be required as well. I am going to be in my
     cabin. Spock, please join me."

     ---

     Nobody noticed the absence of ensign LaPierre. A navigator was not
     obliged to stay on the bridge the whole time, while a ship was in
     orbit. The navigator was only required to be on-call.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Footnotes and explanations

Next chapter.


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From: marketa@kestrel.ludwig.ucl.ac.uk (Marketa Zvelebil)
Subject: Re: IDIC-PLANET - A TOS STORY
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                                 IDIC-PLANET

                        Copyright Marketa J. Zvelebil

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

                                  CHAPTER 5

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

     Ensign LaPierre was not afraid. After all, to meet people who
     would listen to her ideas was the reason she had come to this
     planet. Indeed, it was what she had been trained for at home. To
     become an emissary of The Way. To convince as many people as she
     could that this was the only Way. She had been chosen from all the
     children in her school, mainly for her steadfast belief and
     conviction in THE WAY from a very young age. She had as a young
     child, taught herself all the 96 narrative poems that described
     the history of her people finding The Way, and all the
     commandments one had to follow. Hers was a strict belief and
     culture, born out of fear and harsh living conditions. Fear of the
     unknown, of others-from-the-sky that could come and conquer her
     world, as had happened many thousands of years ago.

     At first her planet was teeming with life, and many cultural
     beliefs. Open-minded people, eager to encompass the new. So when
     others from outer space arrived, they were greeted with
     friendliness and warm hospitality. But their hospitality was not
     appreciated. These others were masters at sowing discontent and
     disharmony - they thrived on it. And when the hatred that they
     caused between the endogenous populations was at its peak, they
     attacked from the skies. They destroyed most of the world, most of
     the inhabitants, and then left. There was no reason, they took
     nothing, but left destruction. Her people, those that were left,
     withdrew into themselves, and the only way - The Way - was born.
     When the reasons for the birth of The Way were forgotten, and the
     planet reached out for contact, it was not for company. It was to
     teach. To preach The Way.

     The Way was strict. One obeyed the Elders without question. So
     when she was chosen for special instruction she did not resist.
     She was to become the first of her people to be accepted by
     Starfleet, shortly after her home planet had been admitted to an
     unsuspecting Federation. Although, at that time she was afraid.
     Afraid to leave her home, to go out among strangers, amongst
     unbelievers. But after her long and arduous training, she was
     ready to take on the whole galaxy. She entered Starfleet academy.

     Her first weeks, at the academy, were difficult. The place was
     full of strange "aliens". The only interest most of the other
     students had, was to do their best to get into space as fast as
     possible. So she too, pretended, that that was her sole aim. It
     made it easier for her not to have to socialise and she could hide
     her true intentions. Her natural quick intelligence and the fact
     that she was one of the first from a new Federation planet,
     enabled her to get assigned to a Starship, soon after her Academy
     graduation. She was assigned to the Enterprise.

     At first she was thrilled. At last she would get to travel to the
     outer-reaches of the Galaxy, and make it possible to find a world
     that was ready to be taught her Way. But a starship is not like
     the Academy. There are only 400-odd beings enclosed within the
     ship, with nowhere else to go. A small compact community, often
     facing the unknown and manifold dangers together, depending one
     upon the other for survival. It's as if 430 single units (each
     having its own personality and varied background) became one.
     Interdependent on each other to serve the ship that was their home
     and safe-haven in an effectively hostile environment, space.

     When one of these members failed so utterly to fit in, to be
     trusted, to truly join this somewhat exclusive community, it soon
     became apparent. At first, it was colleagues and the direct
     superior officer who became aware that something was amiss. They
     tried to deal with it, often with surprising sensitivity. When
     this failed, the problem was elevated to the crew-administrator.
     He or she would often confer with the Chief Medical Officer, who
     also had access to personnel records others did not. If needed,
     they would call in the acting religious-care officer (who had a
     very demanding job considering the ships complement of not only
     different religions from one planet, but also beliefs from many
     varied worlds ).

     If still no solution was found and the situation had not improved
     the matter was slowly brought to the attention of the Captain, via
     his First Officer and Medical Officer. So it had been with Ensign
     LaPierre. It was a surprise to all when her intolerance, racism
     and disregard for other sentient beings surfaced. No such
     tendencies had been observed during her training at the Academy.
     None had been observed during her long entrance interview.
     However, she was the first to join from a new Federation planet,
     and often leeway was given to those applicants. Such intolerance
     would not have been acceptable, had it been perceived early
     enough. Now as a trainee navigator, on the Enterprise, her true
     feelings were difficult to hide. Her determined
     self-aggrandization came to light partly due to the presence of
     Lieutenant Offer. He presented a striking opposite in character to
     her, secure in his belief but open to new experiences. A man who
     had grown up in a loving secure family environment. One that
     taught him tradition as well as the ability and courage to
     question, to think for oneself, to see and to grow.

     When he met LaPierre he could not comprehend her. In his hunger
     for philosophical knowledge he had questioned her. Interrogated
     her, till he managed to break down the protective field of
     placating lies, and the truth came out in an angry torrent of
     accusations, followed by a joyous expounding of the so long
     suppressed dogma of her True Belief.

     Looking out at the different humanoids passing her by as they
     drove out of the Dome-city, her eyes flashed in anger as she
     remembered that day, when Offer tricked her into revealing her
     purpose, her aim too soon. To his credit he did not betray her to
     others. He had shrugged it off as a passing folly. From that day
     on, however, periodically he would try and lead her from her
     chosen path by discussions that would often end in heated
     arguments.

     They had left the dome-city, and were moving through unbuilt
     country side. Soon the cultivated fields, growing some
     unrecognisable crop, gave way to steep and barren mountains. The
     majesty of the mountain-range, however, was often broken by
     technological desecration on a grandiose scale. Large mining works
     would unexpectedly loom up. Metal-like monsters, towering over the
     gaping holes that they had torn in the mountain, reducing a once
     proud peak to a simpering hillock dotted with mechanical
     protruberences.

     She watched silently in an unsettled awe, as they made their way
     further into this ravaged landscape. Her guide was silent and she
     too felt no need to break the silence in this oppressive
     environment.

     Suddenly, the road stopped. They had arrived at a particularly
     large and menacing looking mining works.

     "Come, let me introduce you to my friends."

     LaPierre, was some what reluctant to leave the apparent safety of
     the ground vehicle. But she had no choice now that she had come
     too far.

     "I can't stay too long, if I want to get to back aboard the
     Enterprise undetected." she said, partly as a safety net, partly
     because it was true.

     "It won't take long. Come."

     He led her to a low building, made of the same crystal- like
     structure as the large dome in the city. But this was no dome. It
     was a low elongated building with no steps, that seemed to join
     and enter the mountain rising behind it.

     She entered, followed by her guide. She was then led through a
     short corridor, to an entrance that opened into a large low
     ceilinged room. Hushed voices could be discerned. LaPierre was led
     firmly into this room. She went in and stopped dead in her tracks.
     A strangled gasp escaped her lips. She felt nauseous. Her head
     started to spin and for a moment she thought she would lose
     consciousness.

     The room housed over a hundred different beings. But their
     differences were not in anyway similar to what she had observed in
     the city. There the difference seemed more cosmetic and definitely
     not detrimental. The beings in this room were malformed. The
     horrific deformations had made these beings at best
     semi-functional. She noticed people with no legs, no arms, no
     eyes, heads with hands protruding from where other humanoids would
     have a nose. Beings with unrecognisable protuberances that made
     mobility and any dexterity very difficult. Many had also open
     wounds, untreated, neglected and infected.

     "These are the lucky ones." The voice of her guide startled her.
     She wanted to lash out at him for bringing her to this place.
     Instead she said.

     "What are these?"

     "These too are genetic offspring of different races. These too are
     children of diversity. But for these the superior genetic
     engineering has not worked quite as planned. They are the
     unmentionable failures. These children of The Master's Law are
     hidden away, so none know about them and they are used as cheap
     labour."

     "Why did you say the lucky ones?" whispered LaPierre as hundreds
     of eyes stared at her, all other conversation now stopped.

     "Because they are alive. Maybe I should have said un- lucky, for
     who would want a life such as theirs. Those that are found to be
     incapable of any work are killed."

     "Life must always be preserved. The killing must stop." LaPierre
     felt a righteous anger burning through her whole body and invade
     her mind. She did not notice the triumphant smile light up the
     handsome face of her guide.

     All she could think about was how correct her Way must be! How it
     can wipe out abominations such as these. They were beyond her
     help. But the procreation of others like these must be stopped.
     The Way could not be polluted with such as these!

     "What do you want me to do?" She asked turning to her guide, and
     shutting out the sight of the room.

     "I have a holographic message I have prepared. This you must
     broadcast to the whole world from your starship. Only you can do
     this. There are many people who are not happy with the Master's
     Law and when they see these hidden unfortunates ones, they will
     rebel against the practices."

     "What about teaching them my philosophy of The Way?" she asked.

     "When the current government is overthrown, as it must. When the
     Master's Law is torn down, there will be a gap, and you can start
     to teach your Way." He quickly placated her. He knew that her Way
     would never be accepted by the people of this planet, they were
     too free thinking. But he didn't care. He needed her now, her
     access to the starship orbiting this sseikea(3) world! He would
     get his satisfaction, when he would give this world to the Romulan
     Empire. As a proper son of the Empire, he would do his duty. And
     this world rich in the crystal and metal resources, would be his
     to give, with above all the weapon that destoyed the orbiting
     ships so efficiently.

     "Very, well. Give me the chip. And how will I contact you? I don't
     even know your name".

     "I will contact you. You can call me Ra'kholh(4)" he said
     satisfaction seeping into his voice.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Footnotes and explanations

Next chapter.


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From: marketa@kestrel.ludwig.ucl.ac.uk (Marketa Zvelebil)
Subject: Re: IDIC-PLANET - A TOS STORY
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                                 IDIC-PLANET

                        Copyright Marketa J. Zvelebil

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

                                  CHAPTER 6

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

     The untouched glass of cognac still stood on Jim's desk. He felt
     as if it had been days since Spock, sitting opposite him, had
     briefed him on the planet they were now orbiting. Jim Kirk entered
     his cabin, and indicated for Spock to sit. He noted with some
     satisfaction that the Vulcan had relaxed to a certain extent since
     they had left the bridge. He sat down, and touched the hand-cut
     crystal containing the amber liquid. Although he did not feel like
     a drink, he took pleasure in rotating the glass in his hand and
     feeling the work of art that the glass itself represented.

     "Is Sulu stable now, Spock?" he asked at last, somewhat reluctant
     to break the companionable silence that had settled comfortably
     between him and his friend.

     "Psychologically he will be able to cope with his situation for a
     short time."

     "Short time? That's not very precise, Spock."

     "Jim, the emotional part of a human mind is not a precise
     instrument. I cannot predict the unknown," Spock stated mildly
     annoyed.

     Jim regarded his First Officer for a long while. Spock looked
     back, calmly returning the steady gaze.

     "Spock, I'd rather you didn't mind-meld or -touch with Sulu
     anymore."

     "Captain, I too would rather not participate in another mind meld
     with Lieutenant Sulu. I hope that it will not be necessary."

     Before Jim could make up his mind whether to order Spock not to
     mind-meld with Sulu anymore, the door chime sounded.

     "Enter."

     The doors opened silently and McCoy entered, holding one of his
     small medical scanners. He proceeded, without a word, to run the
     scanner over Spock.

     "That is unnecessary, Doctor," snapped Spock.

     "Temper, temper," McCoy taunted.

     Spock looked up bemused. He was surprised at his reaction to
     McCoy's natural and commendable concern. The unusually deep mind
     meld must have affected him more than he realised. He would have
     to take care not to let this influence his efficiency.

     McCoy had finished scanning Spock and also, surreptitiously, Jim.
     He grunted and sat down, worried about the readings he picked up
     from the Captain. Spock was physically in good health.

     "How is Sulu, Bones?" queried Jim.

     "Well, thanks to that crazy mind-meld he is stable. For the
     moment. But I don't give him more than at most four days. After
     that, I will have to put Sulu in stasis otherwise he could go into
     another total withdrawal," McCoy turned a glare at Spock before he
     continued, "And I don't want Spock to risk his life mind-melding
     with him again!"

     "Hardly my life, Doctor," Spock answered, but to himself he added,
     'only my mind'.

     The door chimed again, it was exactly 15 minutes since they had
     left the bridge. Jim Kirk wondered if Lieutenant Offer had been
     waiting outside the door following anxiously the chronometer
     display on his wrist computer.

     "Enter."

     Lieutenant Offer had only been in the Captain's quarters once
     before: When he was recently assigned to the Enterprise and the
     Captain had made a point of speaking to the new recruits
     individually in the privacy of his cabin. He entered the
     Commanding Officer's cabin with some unease but also with great
     curiosity. The Captain indicated he should sit down in a chair
     facing the desk. He didn't really know why he was invited to join
     this meeting, usually reserved only for the two other men,
     Commander Spock and Dr. McCoy.

     As if reading his mind the Captain addressed the young officer:

     "Mr. Offer, you were asked to join this informal meeting, because
     you seem to look at this situation with impartiality. Also during
     our meeting with K'L'trok you showed great restraint, and laudable
     diplomacy."

     Lieutenant Offer felt the colour rising in his cheeks. He was
     quite embarrassed by the Captain's praise.

     "Thank you," he stammered as he took his place at the desk.

     Kirk proceeded to offer everyone the exceptional cognac from the
     Gascogne region on Earth, where it was still distilled in copper
     stills and mellowed in old oak casks. Even Spock, much to
     Lieutenant Offer's surprise accepted a small amount. He had never
     seen the Vulcan drink any form of alcohol before.

     "To business, Gentlemen. I have outlined to Mr. Spock what has
     happened planet-side, but only very briefly. Let's go over it
     again and I would appreciate any suggestions," Kirk looked round
     at each man in turn then continued, "Mr. Offer, why don't you
     summarise our situation."

     Yehudy Offer nearly spilt his drink from surprise at that request.

     "Sir...uh..yes sir," he stammered as he tried to gather his
     thoughts. "Where would you like me to start, sir?"

     "From the time we beamed down."

     "Right. When we beamed down, we were asked to wait, because
     K'L'trok was dealing with some peoples called 'The Havelians'
     which did...," the Captain interrupted the young officer.

     "Sorry to interrupt, Lieutenant, but let me just add something
     here. The Havelians, as you may know, are an artisan colony of
     humans descendent from a small Earth country that used to be
     known, in the 20th century, as the Czech Republic. These Havelians
     practice mainly art and culture. Therefore they are heavily
     dependent on trade for all their technological necessities. I,
     therefore, wondered why the K'S'vaits still needed humans, if
     these colonists trade with them. Then a worse thought came to my
     mind; that the Havelians were trading in other beings. But after
     continued questioning K'L'trok admitted that they value the
     art-forms of the Havelians enough to trade in these. The chairs,
     for example, -even the Vulcan one- are all products of the
     Havel-colony." Jim finished and let the unspoken fact that the
     K'S'vaiths do trade in other things than just beings hang in the
     air.

     "Interesting," murmured Spock quietly.

     "Please continue, Mr. Offer," Jim invited.

     The Lieutenant cleared his throat and continued:

     "Well, at last K'L'trok joined us, and Captain Kirk asked to
     discuss the matter further."

     Again Jim interrupted:

     "He thought that Mr. Offer was a prime candidate for the breeding
     program, and was ready to exchange a few crystals for him." He
     turned to look at Yehudy Offer, "Now you know your price," he
     added with a smile.

     Lieutenant Offer shrugged his shoulders and, at a nod from Jim,
     continued:

     "K'L'trok, consented to further discussions, in which we asked
     whether they would accept genetic material instead of actual
     humans. At first K'L'trok dismissed this out of hand. After some
     persuasion from the Captain he promised that he would put the
     proposal to his committee and that they would consider it, but
     that it may take time. Captain Kirk thought it unwise, at the
     moment, to let the K'S'vaits know that we are pressed for time.
     We, therefore, gave the impression that time for us was not of the
     essence. Any further information that we requested, such as how
     they stop ships from leaving orbit, was only met with smiles and
     evasive answers. He warned us, however, not to seek a
     demonstration. As there was little left to discuss we took our
     leave and returned to the Enterprise," Offer finished and looked
     at his Captain.

     "Thank you, Mr. Offer," Jim turned the still full glass in his
     hand and then held it against the light as if seeking inspiration
     from the golden reflection of light in the amber liquid.

     "Comments, please."

     The cabin lights flickered suddenly and at the same time the
     computer screen on the desk whistled, startling McCoy who was
     about to give his piece of mind about the mess they found
     themselves in.

     "Screen on," Jim said calmly although he felt apprehension
     gripping his insides.

     The screen obeyed, came on, revealing the agitated face of his
     Chief engineer.

     "What's up, Scotty?" Jim asked and braced himself.

     "Captain, ye are not gonna like this... we now have only one
     dilithium crystal left, and that is damaged like the rest of them.
     All the other crystals have totally disintegrated. The only one
     left is na going to last long. We are already running most of the
     ship on auxiliary power. When the last one goes....," Scotty's
     face said it all.

     "How long can we maintain orbit when that happens?" Jim asked

     "Well, saving all kinda power, maybe 72 hours, Captain," Scotty
     added something in Gaelic that Jim rather didn't want translated.

     "73 hours 34 minutes, if we conserve maximum energy," Spock added
     in a matter of fact voice.

     "Scotty, start saving all the power you can now. Kirk out. Screen
     off."

     "Well that doesn't leave us much time or choice," he added looking
     at the blank screen.

     "What do you mean by that, Jim?" Bones looked suspiciously at
     Kirk, "I hope that didn't mean trading one or two of your crew for
     some crystals."

     "No, Bones, it doesn't," Jim stood up, and turned his back to the
     Doctor, " at least not yet."

     "Jim, you can't be serious!" McCoy made as if to go and confront
     James Kirk.

     The Captain turned round, however, and faced his friend, often his
     second conscience.

     "What would you have me do, Bones, destroy my ship and let 430
     people die? Let it plummet to that blasted planet below? To burn
     up? Well, what would you have me do?"

     "Sorry, Jim. I just find the idea so abhorrent," McCoy sat down
     again.

     "I know, Bones," Jim said softly, "so do I. Only those that
     volunteer would stay behind. I'll go myself in order to save this
     ship!" Jim exclaimed.

     "That would be unwise, Captain," Spock said calmly.

     The Captain glowered at his First Officer, but he knew that Spock
     was right. As captain his duty, in this case, was to stay on the
     ship and not volunteer to procreate.

     "Captain, if I may be so bold. If it comes to leaving someone
     behind, I wouldn't mind more opportunity to study this culture."
     Lieutenant Offer spoke up.

     "If it comes to that I will consider your request, Mr. Offer,",
     Jim said sounding and looking tired. He dismissed the young and
     promising helmsman. "You can return to your post now, Lieutenant
     Offer."

     When Lieutenant Offer left, Jim turned to Spock:

     "Mr. Spock, please find out where the K'S'vaits keep their stocks
     of dilithium."

     Spock's eyebrow rose. He said nothing for a moment, then:

     "There are two main storage holds for the dilithuim, Captain, one
     is approximately 34 kilometres due north of the city, in a
     mountainous landscape. The other is further due east of this city,
     near a smaller but densely populated area," he finished without
     any inflection in his voice.

     Jim was not unduly surprised that Spock had the requested
     information at hand - it had happened too often that his First
     Officer had anticipated his requests to really astonish him now.

     "Protected?"

     "Affirmative."

     "How strongly?"

     "Breachable."

     "Theft, Jim?" McCoy's eyes took on a wicked gleam.

     "Just covering all possible venues." Jim replied smoothly, then
     seriously, "But first we must try and convince the K'S'vaits,
     either with rewards or threats. Bones you and....Offer will go
     back and try to talk some sense into these people. Use persuasion,
     inducement, or coercion to convince them that it would be in their
     best interest to have the Federation on their side. Tell them we
     can give them a lot of genetic material, anything but humans."

     "The Federation ain't gona be happy dealing with a planet that
     deals in any kind of sentient life, Jim," McCoy commented.

     "When we get out of here, we can deal with that problem," Jim
     dismissed the objection. McCoy nodded then asked:

     "What are you going to be up to?"

     "Up to, Doctor," Jim said, innocence incarnate, and in good
     imitation of his First Officer, "that depends, on how successful
     you are."

     McCoy gave Jim a hard look but then left saying on his way out:

     "Good luck, Jim."

     ---

     "Well, Spock?"

     "Captain?"

     "Have you considered a career as a thief?"

     "Never, Captain," came the dry answer.

     "Let's hope it doesn't come to that, but I want you and Scotty to
     plan and prepare for a raid on that storage plant nearest to the
     city. If all else fails, we will have to help ourselves."

     "Captain, with all due respect, you seem to have forgotten
     K'L'trok's threat if we attempt to leave orbit."

     "No, Spock, I haven't forgotten, I am working on that. Any ideas
     are welcome."

     "Moreover, Captain, are you planning to go on this raid?" Spock
     asked noncommittally.

     "Affirmative, Mr. Spock, any objections?"

     "Yes, sir. Numerous. First of all, you as Capta....."

     "Spock, you may as well save your breath. If we have to steal
     those crystals, I will go. No arguments will change my mind."

     Spock pursed his lips and a look of stubbornness crept into his
     eyes. He said nothing, however. Stood up, looked at his Captain
     for dismissal, then with a: "Good night, Sir," left his Captain
     sitting at his desk. Captain James Kirk was once again rotating
     his crystal glass, now empty, deep in thought as the doors closed
     after the departing Spock.

     Jim sank down onto his bed. It was well past midnight, ship's
     time, and he had gone 28 hours without sleep. He was tired and
     frustrated that there was so little he could actually do. He did
     not want to revert to theft to obtain those life-saving crystals.
     But even less did he like the idea of asking any of his crew to
     stay behind, although he knew that many would volunteer, and Mr.
     Chekov, and Mr. Offer would head the line. He was bone-tired, a
     few hours of sleep would be welcome, but unpleasant thoughts kept
     him from relaxing. This situation was too messy. And there were
     unexplainable things that worried him about the K'S'vaits, apart
     from their interpretation of the Vulcan IDIC. The Vulcan - that
     brought him to Spock, who had behaved quite uncharacteristically a
     number of times since they got back. And that stubborn look on
     Spock's face as he left. 'What was his First Officer up to?'

     At last his eyelids slid over his tired and smarting eyes. Jim
     fell into a restless sleep. Sleep that would be far too short. The
     near future had other plans than a night's sleep for the Commander
     of the Enterprise.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Footnotes and explanations

Next chapter.


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From: marketa@kestrel.ludwig.ucl.ac.uk (Marketa Zvelebil)
Subject: Re: IDIC-PLANET - A TOS STORY
Sender: news@ucl.ac.uk (Usenet News System)
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Date: Mon, 1 Apr 1996 10:39:17 GMT
References: <827697800snz@yemeads.demon.co.uk> <HO7IYBAPecWxEwNi@rolyat.demon.co.uk> <1996Apr1.101623.90222@ucl.ac.uk>
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                                 IDIC-PLANET

                        Copyright Marketa J. Zvelebil

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

                                  CHAPTER 7

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

     LaPierre had been set down in the same place, within the city, to
     which she had beamed down. She now only hoped that the second part
     of her plan would be successful. She looked at her chronometer.
     The starship should be on night shift. Young Larry was supposed to
     be on duty in the main transporter room. It should not be too
     difficult to convince him to beam her up and not tell anyone about
     it. She smiled to herself. Her good looks did come in handy
     sometime. Then even if the records showed that an unauthorised
     transportation took place, it would be difficult to trace it back
     to her. As she checked her chronometer one last time, she felt a
     cold soft feather- like substance settle on her hand. She withdrew
     her hand in startled shock. 'What was this?' She looked up, all
     around her big flakes of white fluffy crystal-like droplets were
     falling from the sky. The soft crystals, that melted upon contact
     with her skin, were as large as the palm of her hand. She held out
     her hand and looked at the large star-like structure softly
     resting on her palm, reflecting the bright colours of the two
     moons shining brightly in the night sky. Then the star-flake
     vanished and a small trickle of water trickled from her hand onto
     the ground below. "'So this was snow.' She had read about it, but
     never seen it. Reluctant to leave this wondrous display of
     sparkling multicoloured flakes, she whipped out her communicator:

     "LaPierre to transporter room," she held her breath.

     "Larry here, what are you doing on the planet, Aureali?"

     "The Captain sent me down on some business, before your shift.
     Beam me up now, Larry."

     "Oh....okay, energising."

     Within the softly falling, sparkling snow-flakes, another kind of
     sparkling took place. Where once the form of a slim female had
     stood, collecting large snow flakes in her hands, snow flakes now
     reached to the ground and melted instantly.

     ---

     On the bridge, Spock was observing the nightly snow-fall with
     interest. The spectral and crystallographic readings of the
     unusually large and complex flakes were impressive. Even more
     interesting was their low melting-point. Upon contact with the
     ground they would dissolve. In the morning there would be no
     indication that any snow had fallen during the much colder nights.
     Spock leaned back in the command chair, steepling his fingers in
     his preferred gesture. The bridge was quiet. Only Scotty was at
     his station, muttering away in Gaelic. It was also unusually cold
     on the bridge - energy saving measures had come into full effect.
     Their need for undamaged dilithium crystals was becoming critical.
     A ghost of a frown was evident on Spock's face. Even if they
     helped themselves to the K'S'vaits crystals, how could they avoid
     whatever destructive weapons the K'S'vaits proposed to use? He was
     beginning to have a putative theory concerning the weapon. His
     extensive analysis of the planet's spectra and the energies being
     used gave him preliminary data to work from. But he didn't want to
     mention his theory to the Captain yet - not enough evidence. If he
     was right, however, no dilithium crystal would be safe on their
     ship. Not long enough to get them safely out of orbit. He got up,
     crossed to his library-science terminal and immersed himself in
     the vast amount of data that a new orbital scan had provided.

     At the helm, the Transp1 warning light lit up and died down,
     unnoticed. Only the ever vigilant computer stored the fact in its
     nearly infinitely large databanks.

     ---

     LaPierre made her way to the Auxiliary Control room. Although the
     auxiliary bridge was locked at all times, and the lock-code was
     changed every alpha-shift (the main shift) LaPierre, as
     navigator-on-duty, had been given the code. It was still 4
     ship-units till all alpha-shift personnel would be back on full
     duty and a new code would be given out. Because the next 4 units
     were the delta-shift, which corresponded to early morning
     ship's-cycle, and the energy-saving measures were in operation,
     there was very little activity in many parts of the ship; the long
     corridors of the Enterprise were deserted. Occasionally, as
     LaPierre passed some rooms, she would hear the sound of muted
     voices talking, chirping, whistling and otherwise communicating
     with each other. She felt a pang of nostalgia for the sound of her
     own language. All she had spoken since leaving her planet was
     Basic. The language that all personnel, that were physically
     capable of it, had to learn. Those that could not, for lack of
     suitable orifices or vocal organs, were provided with a specially
     adapted permanent sub-cutaneous translator.

     LaPierre reached the yellow-coloured doors of the Auxiliary
     Control room. She looked around her, no-being was in sight.
     Quickly she tapped out the memorised code. For a few tense seconds
     the computer thought about the code, then soundlessly the doors
     slid open and LaPierre quickly went in. The doors closed silently
     shut after her.

     She looked around her. The Auxiliary Control room was a
     scaled-down version of the main bridge, lacking only a few
     non-vital stations. She made her way to the communications unit.
     As with all bridge-personnel, she had basic training in all bridge
     duties, communication being one she excelled in. She sat down, and
     quickly scanned the control board. She would have to override the
     communication console on the main bridge before she could send her
     message. Quickly and efficiently she set to work programming the
     secondary comm-unit. Making sure that when she entered the pre-
     recorded chip, one push on the control button would send its
     message planet-wide. For a fraction of a second, doubt assailed
     her mind, after all she didn't even know what was exactly in the
     message. Then she looked at her chronometer: one unit left before
     alpha-shift and already 20 minutes into the planet's day-cycle,
     time to send the message - or not, and leave quickly before she
     was discovered. Her finger hovered above the crucial button, after
     some seconds, she closed her eyes, held her breath and pressed.

     ---

     On the bridge Spock was checking the energy utilisation of the
     Enterprise. He had noticed some energy fluctuations and unexpected
     localised power surges. After examination of the computer records
     he saw that the transporter had been used repeatedly. Suddenly a
     new power surge, localised in Auxiliary Control, showed up on his
     screen. First the use of an Auxiliary transporter, now someone
     seemed to be using power in the Auxiliary Control room, for
     unauthorised purposes. This situation needed rapid attention.

     "Computer, is someone in Auxiliary Control?"

     "Affirmative," answered the softly mechanical female voice.

     He was about to call security and the Captain, when an all-wide
     subspace announcement light flashed on, followed by an immediate
     audio-visual message. The message was destined for an
     all-frequency broadcast to the planet, but as was usual with such
     a message, it was also broadcast automatically on the main viewing
     screen of the bridge.

     "Captain to the bridge, please." Spock switched the all- ship
     toggle off and pressed the switch that connected him to security.

     "Lieutenant Mep'sto, here," came the disembodied voice of the
     Chief of Security.

     "Spock here. There is an unauthorised broadcast from Auxiliary
     Control. Apprehend the perpetrator, immediately. Spock out."
     Before he finished lifting his finger of the communications
     switch, the lift doors opened and Captain Kirk strode on the
     bridge.

     "Report, Mr. Spock."

     Spock pointed, to the main screen. The rest of the bridge crew
     were mesmerised by the terribly distressing pictures shown on the
     screen and the hypnotic voice that commented calmly on each visual
     representation of the most painfully deformed peoples that any had
     ever seen.

     "This is being broadcast from Auxiliary, directly to the planet,
     Captain." Spock stated soberly.

     "Can we terminate it from here?" Jim asked as he watched the
     Vulcan already busy at the main communications unit.

     "Negative, sir."

     "Mr. Offer, get Lieutenant Uhura up here. Spock, come with me,"
     the Captain said on his way to the turbo lift.

     In the lift Spock quickly told his Captain about the unidentified
     power surges that were recorded also within the transporter rooms.

     "Someone transporting to and back from the planet. But how and
     why?" Jim mused while they made their way to the ship's second
     command centre. As they approached they heard several voices
     talking agitatedly.

     "Report," Jim Kirk snapped, while Spock went to the auxiliary
     communications unit and began to terminate manually, the planet
     wide broadcast.

     "Sir, we found Ensign LaPierre leaving the Auxiliary Control, when
     we were sent down by Mr. Spock to investigate an unauthorised
     broadcast. She denies that she was in the room, Sir."

     Captain Kirk turned his steady gaze at the ensign held firmly by
     one of the security guards.

     "Ensign LaPierre, are you responsible for sending the broadcast?"
     he asked softly.

     LaPierre didn't know how to answer. She didn't know if her lie
     would be accepted, or if she should stand her ground now, let all
     know what higher purpose she was intended to serve. Before she
     could make up her mind, however, the Captain spoke again, very
     gently:

     "Ensign, you must be aware that the computer records will, in the
     end, identify the perpetrator. It would be much better, if you
     indeed did send the message, to tell me now."

     Something snapped in LaPierre at that tone of voice. 'How dare
     that inferior human be condescending to her!' She lifted her head
     proudly and with a look full of arrogant contempt gazed at the
     Captain and the Vulcan who now stood beside him, having
     successfully and efficiently terminated the broadcast. But it
     didn't matter to her anymore, at least three quarters of the
     message got through.

     The ensign reminded Jim of an untamed, young filly he once owned.
     The filly's head would swing wildly, with the mane falling loosely
     round the proud eyes. But he suspected that this filly was beyond
     taming. His eyes bore into hers, willing her to speak.

     LaPierre did, proudly and haughtily:

     "Yes, Captain, I did send the broadcast."

     "Why?" still gently

     "Although I need not explain my actions to you," Jim's face
     hardened at that, "I will. I sent the broadcast to prevent further
     creation of those abominations you saw on the tape, and I saw in
     the flesh. I sent the broadcast to put a stop to this infestation
     of the pure. To put a stop to that disgusting concept of Infinite
     Diversity in Infinite Combinations. There is only The One Way!"
     She ended with another proud swing of her head.

     Jim looked at her silently for a few moments. He felt an
     unreasonable sadness for the young ensign standing so proudly
     before him. Sadness and disquiet that such narrow minded
     perceptions still existed so strongly in someone, especially
     someone so young. Powerful disquiet that such a person managed to
     get as far as the Enterprise, a ship usually reserved for a crew
     of raving xenophiles, a crew that itself rejoiced in every
     possible diversity.

     The ensign started to squirm slightly under the powerful steady
     gaze.

     Jim glanced at Spock. The First Officer's face was totally
     impassive, but in the eyes Jim detected a hint of compassion mixed
     with something he very rarely saw - anger.

     "Ensign, you may have started something much larger than you could
     have imagined," Jim again turned his intense gaze on the young
     woman, his voice hardened but was still tinged with an underlying
     sadness. "You have broken a number of Starfleet and Federation
     rules. The major one, of course - the Prime Directive. I will have
     all the details from you. For now I am obliged to place you under
     arrest. You will be confined in the ship's brig. When we have more
     details and especially time, your case will be brought before a
     board of inquiry of the senior officers. Before that you will be
     made aware of all your legal rights. Is that clear?"

     A not so disdainful nod was all the affirmation the Captain got.

     "Take her to the brig, Lieutenant," Jim turned to the Chief of
     security, "Mr. Spock will question the prisoner, then confine her
     to cell A." Cell A was reserved for the less dangerous prisoners,
     it was large and relatively comfortable. "I will be on the
     bridge." He turned to Spock as LaPierre was led away: "When you
     have finished questioning her, please call me. We need to discuss
     this new complication."

     "Yes, Sir, " Spock was about to leave when the Captain's voice
     stopped him.

     "Spock! Have McCoy and Offer already beamed down to the planet?"

     "Affirmative, Captain," Spock said quietly.

     "Damn!" Jim regarded Spock for a moment, then said:

     "I want to know why she did all this, if she was alone, if there
     are others on board who are involved. She could have conceivably
     beamed down herself, but she must have had help to beam back up.
     Everything, Spock."

     Spock inclined his head and then left to join the little group
     making their way down to the deeper reaches of the starship.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Footnotes and explanations

Next chapter.


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From: marketa@kestrel.ludwig.ucl.ac.uk (Marketa Zvelebil)
Subject: Re: IDIC-PLANET - A TOS STORY
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Message-ID: <1996Apr1.103958.22886@ucl.ac.uk>
Date: Mon, 1 Apr 1996 10:39:58 GMT
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                                 IDIC-PLANET

                        Copyright Marketa J. Zvelebil

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

                                  CHAPTER 8

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

     The sun which warmed and gave light to this planet, appeared
     lazily on the edge of the horizon, bathing the glass-like domed
     structures of Ka'rakram in a golden light. The multi-coloured
     domes reflected the sun's rays, painting a varied array of jagged
     lines crossing each other in the air. Even the inhabitants, used
     to this wondrous display, stopped and enjoyed the glory of the
     multi-coloured spectacle. In the various domes, the multitude of
     beings were getting ready to start a new day.

     It was an organised mess around the table with five youngsters of
     the Klingon/Eredith-K'S'vait mixture boisterously eating their
     first meal of the day. The eldest were getting ready to leave for
     their respective educational facilities. K'Kraith looked with
     maternal pride at her offspring.

     Once a lowly servant of a Klingon Starship commander, she could
     not thank the powers above enough for her good fortune in being
     exchanged for a few rocks. She would do anything Klingonly
     possible to protect her children, husband and this - her new home.

     Srak, her oldest, switched the vid-comm on, and was flicking
     absentmindedly through the many broadcasting channels.

     Various images invaded the centre of their main living place. To
     amuse himself Srak moved the images to the middle of the table.
     The other children started to poke their knives into the life-like
     image of a newscaster. The utensils would shimmer and
     half-disappear into the newscaster's form. Then the otherwise
     perfect image of the humanoid K'S'vait was decorated with
     coruscating ripples that emanated from where ever a particular
     tool was stabbed. The favourite target of the children was the
     K'S'vaits rather handsome face. Squeals and chortles of laughter
     resonated through the room. K'Kraith smiled indulgently and felt
     happiness and pride welling up in her.

     As she was about to turn back to her duties a number of
     heart-stopping screams reverberated round her. Not all the screams
     came from her children.

     She spun round. Where, once the upper part of the K'S'vait
     newscaster had been subjected to the children's "attacks",
     writhing misformed beings were moving in an agonisingly slow way,
     crawling along the floor, which was in this case the table top.
     The differently coloured life-sustaining liquids that oozed out of
     their bodies onto the table looked too real. The images of blood
     overflowed and moulded themselves onto the terrified children.

     "Switch it off!" she screamed at her oldest son, her heart beating
     painfully against her side.

     "Mother, who are they?" asked Srak, trying to hide the shaking in
     his adolescent voice and the trembling of his hands as he guided
     the images off the table and diminished them in size, ultimately
     banishing them to a small corner of the room.

     "I don't know," she answered, her own blood freezing in her veins.
     She started to listen to the calm commentary behind those
     terrifying images: "...behold the results of the genetic
     manipulation that each one of you has been submitted to. The
     debate whether this is right or wrong has been going on for a long
     time. It has escalated recently culminating in the formation of
     The Federation of All Sentients. The FAS have had already major
     successes in leading a large number of people, of YOU, to choose
     freedom. Others have asked for evidence of the charges we have
     made that malformed children, YOUR children, are born, CREATED,
     and used as slave labour. Here IS your evidence! Here are YOUR
     children! There is no more time to waste. SAVE these K'S'vaits.
     Rise up NOW! Choose free Choice! Before it is too..."

     K'Kraith stopped listening and noticed that the children were now
     looking at her rather than at the vid-com. 'This could not be true
     - these had to be lies by those few malcontents she had heard
     about,' She thought and said:

     "These images have been made deliberately to scare us by a few who
     are against our way of life, against all that your father works
     for," and she started to worry about her husband, already at work
     in one of the xeno-gentech labs.

     "But we will not be scared! We are of the Klingon warrior race and
     Klingons are never scared! We will fight against these lies!" she
     continued in a harsh hard voice, one that her children have never
     heard before. They nodded and then, one by one, some in a stronger
     voice than the others, her five sons loudly echoed the one Klingon
     word their mother had taught them early - "Quapla!"

     ---

     K'Fron, chief of police and planetary security, was sitting in his
     favourite chair and enjoying his bowl of hot vraek half listening
     to the early morning news.

     The vid-comm displayed the newscaster as sitting in one of the
     chairs positioned near a large domed window. K'Fron liked to
     pretend that the newscaster was present in his own room and
     reporting to him personally. He watched the seated image reading
     the news that had been censored by his office only a short while
     ago. He didn't need to listen to the news, as he would have read
     the summary of what was to be broadcast. Listening to the news,
     however, gave him a sense of well-being. Knowing that things were
     going his way.

     His gaze was unfocused and he dreamily thought of last night and
     the Orion female he had invited to dinner. Followed by their
     leisurely and long walk in the central park, where under the
     benign light of the two moons circling the planet in close
     formation, they had discussed the finer points of the contract
     that would bond them to each other for the rest of their
     respective lives. One part dealt with the number of offspring and
     K'Fron felt deep satisfaction when he thought of the number they
     had, at last, agreed upon: at least three sons and a minimum of
     six children in total. Not a bad size for a K'S'vait family.

     Suddenly he tensed. The vid-display shimmered and holograms of
     terribly malformed bodies replaced the newscaster on his chair.
     The images were made even more bizarre by the fact that the
     vid-computer tried to mould the images of multiple beings as
     seated on the chair. K'Fron switched the automatic moulding off.
     Now the images invaded his room which had suddenly been
     transformed into a crystal mining and growing factory. K'Fron
     found himself in the middle of the holographic image. All around
     him the images were trying to perform tasks that were well above
     their physical ability. Then the holograph changed, showing
     individual close-ups of the malformed K'S'vaits, making evident
     the suffering, the pain and indignities of those that were
     diseased. Again the holographic vid changed and showed the
     unfortunate-ones dying in sheer agonies, writhing on K'Frons
     gleaming crystal floor. After the initial shock, K'Fron started to
     take in the calm commentary behind the terrifying images. The
     vid-holograms were accompanied by a dispassionate report accusing
     the government of genetic experimentation, of allowing the
     frequent genetic malfunctions to live and of using them as cheap
     labour, as virtual slaves. It accused the lab technicians of
     cold-bloodedly allowing the extremely malformed to die. It gave
     statistics that implied a genetic failure of non-compatible
     couples of 3 in 4. It called the Master's Law a coercion, an
     abomination to all life. It encouraged people to speak out, to
     raise and march on the government buildings, to demand free choice
     of mates and an end of the importation of "alien" beings. This
     message was repeated nearly three times before it was suddenly cut
     off midway. K'Fron had recognised the voice. He had had dealings
     with the owner of that voice before. 'It was that young Romulan
     halfling!' he thought furiously. The half-empty bowl of vraek now
     forgotten, K'Fron left his home quickly to head into the centre of
     the city, where his offices were located. 'It would be a long time
     before he would be able to return home,' were his thoughts as he
     started the ground-car and took off at a brisk speed.

     ----

     K'Tanu sat around the table with his two young children. He smiled
     gently at his beautiful daughter. Her face bore discernible marks
     of the Vulcanoid race. A perfectly formed oval face, large black
     eyes and the elegantly pointed ears that were framed by equally
     black slightly curly hair. She allowed a small smile to part her
     lips. Having also inherited the Vulcan intelligence, she had
     insisted from the tender age of three that she be allowed to
     follow the teachings of Vulcan and Surak. K'Tanu, who believed
     that if IDIC was to be followed, it meant also the interbreeding
     of ideas and not only of "blood", had arranged for Vulcan
     education tapes to be smuggled to him by the few Vulcan traders
     that visited this planet. He had even managed, recently, to
     arrange for an old Vulcan that resided on this planet to be her
     Master in the art of emotional control.

     A single, slightly mischievous, eyebrow was cocked at him as his
     daughter noticed his thoughtful observation of her. Again she
     smiled slightly and with a nod of her head reminded her father of
     his morning duty to feed the second of his children.

     His son, two years younger than his daughter, was patiently
     waiting to be fed. At the age of eight he could not feed himself.
     Blind and disabled from the neck down the child was totally
     dependent upon others for his physical needs. More physically
     structured as a K'S'vait than his sister, his birth posed a
     problem for the slim Vulcan woman that had been his mother.

     Although genetics had been developed on the planet to a high
     degree, other areas of medical care were lacking far behind other
     cultures in the galaxy. K'Tanu was well aware of that and as a
     government official was trying hard to change that. Especially
     since the lack of advanced medical knowledge had cost the life of
     the woman he loved and had been the reason for his only son to
     have his neck broken at birth.

     They had offered to put his son to sleep at birth or to take him
     into care but K'Tanu had refused both. He had too much respect for
     any life to allow his own child to die and he knew that a K'S'vait
     in care was not cared for very well. He never regretted his
     decision. His son had always provided him and his sister with
     cheerful company, for although blind and trapped in an useless
     body he possessed a keen intelligence and great wit.

     "Father, you are preoccupied today," he now stated after having
     patiently waited for his next bite of food for over five minutes.

     "Sorry, Sakim," K'Tanu said and fed him.

     Meanwhile his daughter T'Charu, had put on the Vid-com, expecting
     to hear the daily news. What greeted her, however, upon switching
     on the vid-com was not the news, but Rakholt's message and the
     images of the "unfortunate-ones".

     She listened and watched quietly as distress clouded her lovely
     features. Sakim moved his head, cocked it and listened intently.
     T'Kanu could not believe his ears or eyes. At first rage overtook
     him, denying the possibility of such atrocities in his home-world.
     Then doubts began to gnaw at him uncomfortably. They all watched
     in silence until the broadcast was cut-off in mid image.

     T'Charu switched the vid-comm off and looked at her father
     enquiringly.

     "Is this true, father?" she asked.

     "I don't know, my child," he answered honestly.

     "If it is, then something should be done," stated Sakim in a voice
     filled with emotion.

     "If it is, something will be done, but not by overthrowing the
     government," remarked his father but pondered where he could find
     the truth. He knew one thing, however, there would be trouble
     before the day was over.

     "T'Charu, you will stay in with Sakim today." he said and looked
     at his daughter, when she started to protest he continued: "Listen
     to me, there may be unrest in the city. This is a serious
     situation. I must go to work and find out what is happening, but I
     must be sure you two are safe, otherwise I will worry too much.
     Will you do as I say?"

     T'Charu looked at him, then nodded. He bend down and touched the
     head of both his children, then without another word left the
     relative safety of their dwelling.

     T'Charu, with her hand cradling that of her brother, looked after
     her departing father, uncertain whether she would see him again.

     "Kaidith" she whispered for both of them, 'What is is.'

     ----

     The "Avenger" stood in the middle of his small, but most loyal,
     group of followers. He watched the Vid-recording in silence and
     with internal satisfaction. The inhumane representations did not
     bother him. It had not bothered him to "fashion" some of the
     physical atrocities that were displayed by the unmentionable-ones.
     If one looked closely and carefully one would observe the fear in
     the eyes of many of these people, at least of those that had any
     sort of eyes. One might have expected anger, dejection, but not
     naked fear. However, Rakholt was not worried about that. He knew
     that by the time the shock of seeing these Vids would wear-off
     enough for anyone to notice the fear it would be too late. As it
     was already too late to do anything for those unfortunate beings
     displayed by the vid. They were all dead. It was better that way.
     More dignified. He had to kill them. The suffering displayed on
     the recording was all the more exquisitely horrific by the use of
     the drug he had fed them. Death was an unfortunate side-effect.
     The advantage to him would come when he showed those Federation
     people the dead and blamed the ruling party. Portraying the
     current government as ruthless killers. The Federation would not
     interfere then.

     A tight satisfied smile tugged at the lips of the handsome Romulan
     face. The first step of his scheme was proceeding according to
     plan. He pressed a touch-sensitive patch on the remote
     Vid-controller that he had been holding in his hand. Slid it
     non-chalantly across on to a tabletop at the corner of the room
     and calmly turned to face his closest entourage and friends. Each
     of the fourteen beings in the room bore close resemblance to one
     of the identifiable species in the known galaxy. There were four
     which could have passed for pure Klingons, two Orions, three
     Tellerites, one Gorn and four Mentory. All were first generation
     mix, where the original dominant genes had been allowed to express
     themselves due to the fact that these species were able to have
     viable offspring with the indigenous K'S'vaits without any genetic
     manipulation. The offspring only came to term if the unborn child
     was a male. All female foetuses had, so far, aborted before birth.

     All fourteen members were fanatically against the inter-breading
     being forced upon them, for reasons different yet tragically
     similar. Some had seen their mothers suffer giving birth to babies
     that nature never intended for them to have. Some had seen their
     brothers die due to illnesses that occurred because of blood
     incompatibility so common between some species. But most felt they
     did not belong on this planet. They felt that they belonged to the
     world their fathers or mothers had come from and to which they
     were not allowed to return. They felt betrayed. Angry, alone and
     resentful. This mixture of uncontrolled, unbalanced emotions was
     turned into focused rage and eventual action by the
     ever-resourceful and highly intelligent Rakholt. He surveyed the
     face of each one of them, lingering on those he felt in need of
     more support. They all stood silently and rigidly to attention.
     Raw energy surging through every nerve in their bodies. Muscles
     tense as a the strings on Vulcan Ka'athyra, waiting for the word
     to be given, for action. Waiting to start the next phase of their
     plan. Each of these chosen fourteen was a leader of groups of over
     hundred strong, ready to lead their individual detachments to
     battle and victory.

     ---

     Away from the raising panic in the grand capital city, in one of
     the small crystal producing factories the forgotten-ones were
     having their breakfast in a large communal hall. For a room filled
     with so many people there was a relative silence in the hall. Most
     of the beings were intent on feeding themselves and out of a
     common decency-code that they had developed among the small
     community, they ignored each others' attempts to eat in any way
     that their physicality allowed them.

     In the middle of the room was a large vid-com that was informing
     them of their duties for that particular day, and imparting
     information that would be useful for them such as the time of the
     monthly medical team visit. Most of the information had been
     already repeated five times and most had ceased to listen to the
     monotonous voice of their bored company director whose duty
     included preparing the daily vid-com program. It took a while
     before, one by one, the disinterested forgotten-ones noticed that
     the message and visual had changed - that there in the
     three-dimensional glory of the holographic vid-com they were
     seeing beings such as they. Only these unfortunate ones looked in
     worse health than most of them. They all recognised two things at
     once: The voice of Rakholt, the man who had pledged to save them
     and to stop further disabled K'S'vaits from being born but also
     they immediately saw the unaccustomed emotion of fear in the eyes
     of their fellow-sufferers. Not many of them had been frightened
     before. They had little to loose and as such fear seemed
     superfluous. They were not full citizens of this planet, most
     people did not know they existed at all, but they got food and
     adequate medication to make their physical discomfort bearable.
     They lived waiting to die. But the naked terror in those eyes
     starring at them in condemnation, the untreated wounds, and other
     obvious maltreatment made each one and all shiver inside. For the
     first time in their life they felt threatened. They feared
     betrayal by the one they had entrusted with all their hopes and
     dreams. They feared reprisals of those that had kept them alive so
     far, and they felt an illogical shame in their own existence.

     In absolute silence they stared at the images and listened to the
     voice of their so-called saviour, till the images suddenly
     disappeared and the vid-com itself fell into reproachful silence.

     No one, nothing moved, the stillness was absolute. The past
     revealed, the present changed and the future dangerously
     uncertain.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Footnotes and explanations

Next chapter.


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From: marketa@kestrel.ludwig.ucl.ac.uk (Marketa Zvelebil)
Subject: Re: IDIC-PLANET - A TOS STORY
Sender: news@ucl.ac.uk (Usenet News System)
Message-ID: <1996Apr1.104147.37205@ucl.ac.uk>
Date: Mon, 1 Apr 1996 10:41:47 GMT
References: <827697800snz@yemeads.demon.co.uk> <HO7IYBAPecWxEwNi@rolyat.demon.co.uk> <1996Apr1.101623.90222@ucl.ac.uk>
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                                 IDIC-PLANET

                        Copyright Marketa J. Zvelebil

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

                                  CHAPTER 9

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

     In K'L'trok's office McCoy was having difficulty keeping his
     temper down. Lieutenant Offer was doing most of the talking now,
     after McCoy's last outburst. McCoy was very glad that Lieutenant
     Offer was present. He seemed a born diplomat and looked as calm as
     Spock, any time

     "Please, K'L'trok, your explanations are not conclusive as to why
     the council has rejected Human genetic material." Offer calmly and
     patiently repeated his argument.

     K'L'trok looked somewhat petulantly at the Lieutenant who insisted
     that a full explanation would be forthcoming. He had been advised
     by the council not to alienate the Federation people but to insist
     on a couple of humans for the breeding program. He gave a loud
     sight. "Although we have the best genetic technology in the whole
     galaxy, " he began, looking defensive, " if we only use genetic
     material we do not get the desired results as often as when we let
     nature take its course for most of the process." He hoped that
     would be enough.

     "What are the undesirable results?" asked McCoy, suspicion gnawing
     at him.

     Again K'L'trok gave a sigh, then tried to look properly saddened,
     his customarily bright orange eyes dimmed as he explained:
     "Sometimes, very rarely, the combination of two different species
     gives either un-viable offspring or a disabled child. But this is
     very rare and we are perfecting our techniques continuously."

     'Best genetic engineering in the galaxy! Ha!', McCoy thought to
     himself; aloud he asked: "What happens to the disabled K'S'vaits?
     We have not seen any."

     "There are very few, and those are taken care of outside the city
     in specially adapted environments that suite them best." K'L'trok
     glibly gave the same answer he gave respective parents when they
     enquired about their child.

     McCoy and Offer looked at each other. Both felt unease, both
     thought that K'L'trok was not telling them the whole truth, and
     both knew that they were at an impasse.

     "K'L'trok, you must understand, we do not deal in live beings. Our
     Captain cannot order us to stay here in exchange for dilithuim
     crystals. The Federation would hardly look kindly on that."
     Lieutenant Offer tried again.

     K'L'trok regarded Offer shrewdly, the colour of his eyes rapidly
     alternating between bright orange, yellow and red. McCoy wandered
     what kind of particular gene was responsible for these remarkable
     eyes and whished he could discern the meaning behind the colour
     changes. He pulled his thoughts back from genetics to the present
     situation and heard K'L'trok addressing Offer. "Lieutenant, can
     you tell me honestly, that you would not stay here if your
     gentle-Captain asked you? That you might not even enjoy the
     diversity found here? Don't forget, I heard what you said
     yesterday."

     Lieutenant Offer looked uncomfortable. He knew that he would stay
     if Captain Kirk asked him. He also knew that he would not want to
     spend the rest of his life here or on any one planet for that
     matter. Not even on Earth where all his family were. He needed to
     be in space. He took a long breath and prepared to explain some of
     this to K'L'trok as well as intending to ask him if he would
     accept that he would stay for a certain period of time, when
     K'L'trok's aide rushed in, and without any preliminaries started
     to speak with K'L'trok in an agitated manner. The foreign words
     rushed out in a rapid staccato fashion. K'L'trok may have had
     Vulcan genes, but that definitely did not include controlling
     emotions or even hiding them as his facial expressions changed
     from surprise, through anger to something between anger and fear.
     His remarkable eyes were blazing a fierce dark red.

     'Hmmm...that colour must mean anger, fear or both.' McCoy forgot
     to be worried in his fascination with K'L'troks eyes.

     After a short silence, when his aide had finished speaking,
     K'L'trok turned to the two now somewhat apprehensive Starfleet
     officers.

     "There is some unrest in the city," he said while pushing a
     semi-hidden button on his desk. "You will be taken to a safe
     place, while we deal with it," he continued.

     "We would rather beam back to the ship," McCoy stated as calmly as
     he could.

     Four armed K'S'vaits entered the room, K'L'trok said something to
     them in K'S'vaitan. As two of them came close to McCoy and Offer,
     he said: "I am sorry but that will not be possible, our defence
     systems will not allow that." Although this was a lie, he
     continued: "We also require your communication devices and any
     weapons you may have."

     "Are we being held captive?" asked McCoy angrily unaware that his
     own eyes were changing hue to a darker blue.

     "Of course not, but the situation demands that you cooperate."

     "We have no weapons and we will not give you our communicators. We
     have to notify the Captain," said McCoy firmly.

     "We will notify your Captain of the situation. I am sorry you will
     not cooperate willingly." K'L'trok said and gestured to the two
     K'S'vait guards. They then moved in, and grabbed the communicators
     from McCoy and Lieutenant Offer. When Lieutenant Offer attempted
     to resist, he was roughly pinned down by the other two guards.
     Then with no further words exchanged between K'L'trok and them,
     they were led out of the domed office into a waiting lift by the
     guards. The lift took them downward, and soon they found
     themselves being led to what could not be mistaken for anything
     else but a prison cell. Nothing but bare walls, made of solid
     crystalline rock, jutting out round the room so that it was
     possible to sit. McCoy and Offer were pushed, none too gently,
     into the round cell and with a flick of one of his hands the guard
     turned on a dangerously pulsating field that cut them effectively
     off from the outside world.

     "I feel like in the Tower of London," murmured McCoy who had once
     visited that old and famous bastion, "I hope that axe is REAL
     sharp!"

     The Starfleet officers were unaware of the mayhem that had erupted
     within the city high above them. Rakholt's groups were preparing
     for attack on the main administrative dome and the weapons'
     installations. Ordinary people in the streets were begining to
     argue and clash, as disatisfaction and differing opinions,
     suppressed for so long, were unleashed. The planetary security
     forces were trying to restore order and protect the vital
     installations. Not since the end of the "Great Wars", had there
     been so much open violence on the planet. Recently there had been
     small local unrests but the police had been able to deal with
     these quickly and efficiently - the execution rate had also
     increased recently. This outburst of all the suppressed anger,
     fear, hatred, and disatisfaction was totally unexpected, however,
     for a police-force that was used to having everyone fully under
     their control. A police force where each officer had the power of
     detention, prosecution and execution. In the frenzied release of
     this suppressed anger all fear for the world's security forces
     seemed to vanish into thin air. The violence was spilling in to
     the houses from the streets all to rapidly. Nobody was safe from
     the insanity that gripped the vast number of different individuals
     with their personal ideas, forced so long to only believe in the
     one - the Master's Law.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Footnotes and explanations

Next chapter.


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From: marketa@kestrel.ludwig.ucl.ac.uk (Marketa Zvelebil)
Subject: Re: IDIC-PLANET - A TOS STORY
Sender: news@ucl.ac.uk (Usenet News System)
Message-ID: <1996Apr1.104229.37295@ucl.ac.uk>
Date: Mon, 1 Apr 1996 10:42:29 GMT
References: <827697800snz@yemeads.demon.co.uk> <HO7IYBAPecWxEwNi@rolyat.demon.co.uk> <1996Apr1.101623.90222@ucl.ac.uk>
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                                 IDIC-PLANET

                        Copyright Marketa J. Zvelebil

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

                                 CHAPTER 10

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

     In the main office of the large governmental dome were gathered
     the council which included K'L'trok and security chief K'Fron. The
     room was under heavy guard. A heated discussion was in process.
     Various council members accusing others for the development of
     this unsavoury situation. However, in the end K'Fron and his
     security force got the most blame.

     While the barrage of accusations was raining on his head, K'Fron
     had an idle thought that the council should not alienate his
     security force at a time like this. After all he could take
     control. He was in charge of all forces planet wide. Then he could
     show this clown council how to really run this planet. He shook
     his head to clear such thoughts of treason from his mind.

     Suddenly the president of the council and thus the presiding ruler
     of the united world banged the table and proclaimed in a loud
     voice.

     "Enough!"

     He turned his pure K'S'vaith face towards K'Fron.

     "Securion K'Fron, how are your forces dealing with this unrest?"

     K'Fron sprung to attention when he was addressed by the president.
     The president being one of the select few who had only K'S'vaith
     blood flowing through him was over two meters tall, with a voice
     that matched his imposing size. Only pure K'S'vaits were ever
     elected for the presidency and the only pure K'S'vaits left on the
     planet were all, ironically, original descendants of the Master.

     "My lord. My forces are deployed all over the city with isotropic
     phasers persuading everyone to go to their dwellings. They are
     also guarding all important installations. A number of groups
     have, as a precautionary measure, been sent to smaller urban
     cities where the disturbance has not yet started," answered K'Fron
     hating his submissivness to this pure-bred.

     "Good. I expect this uprising to be over by the day's end," his
     deep voice, made all the more imposing by the slight echo created
     by the microscopic vibrations of the crystalline wall,
     reverberated round the room.

     The slightly furred head of the president then turned towards
     K'L'trok. He pierced the interplanetary-trade officer with his
     gaze.

     "You have not been very successful in obtaining any humans yet,"
     he stated.

     When K'L'trok only managed to shake his head in agreement, the
     voice continued.

     "The Federation ship sent that message. The Federation ship is
     responsible. It will, therefore, have to compensate for this in
     addition to payment of the crystals. Make that clear to them. We
     hold this Federation fully responsible," he ended and settled back
     into the seat specially made for his physique.

     "Yes, my Lord," answered K'L'trok.

     When he was dismissed with a regal wave of the president's hand he
     hurried to his own office wondering how to approach this new
     situation, wondering also if he would live long enough to see
     another day.

     ---

     When Captain Kirk entered his bridge, Lieutenant Uhura was already
     at her station, correcting the over-ride from Auxiliary control.

     Kirk settled into the centre seat and swivelled round to face
     Uhura.

     "Lieuten....."

     "Captain."

     They addressed each other at the same time.

     Jim smiled and indicated that Uhura precede him.

     "Thank you, Captain. I only want to report that all systems are
     back to normal," she said trying for a smile of her own, but
     failing miserably, the worry about Sulu, McCoy and Offer clearly
     written on her face.

     "Good. Can you contact someone down on the planet for me, Uhura?
     And get McCoy as well."

     "Yes, sir." Uhura swivelled back to her station.

     "Captain to engineering. Mr. Scott, report, please"

     A few moments of silence went by, then the Scottish brogue of his
     chief engineer came through.

     "Still holdin' out, Captain. Just."

     "Do we have weapons capability?" asked Kirk

     "Aye, but that's goin' to put an awful lot of stress on the wee
     crystal we have left, Sir"

     "Thank you, Scotty, do your best."

     Kirk hit another toggle and got Christine Chapel answering his
     call to sickbay. The pain in his stomach became worse when the
     voice of Chapel reminded him that Dr. McCoy was somewhere
     planet-side, and he had not yet heard from him.

     "How is Sulu?" he asked.

     "Still stable, Captain."

     "Is Mr. Chekov with him?"

     "Yes, sir."

     "Have him report to the bridge immediately. Kirk out." Jim turned
     to look at Uhura again.

     "Uhura?"

     "Nothing yet, Captain." Uhura sounded apologetic, "Neither Dr.
     McCoy nor Lieutenant Offer are responding to their communicators.
     However, both communicators are functioning. No one is responding
     to our hails on the planetary frequency we used earlier."

     "Keep trying, Lieutenant."

     Jim faced the view of the planet with its multitude of orbiting
     ships. 'Should he lock on the communicators and beam them up?
     Would McCoy and Offer be with the communicators, however? Should
     he go down and take some crystals? Time was running out! They had
     to obtain dilithium or the Enterprise would soon start plummeting
     towards the planet and 430 of his people would burn up. How was
     LaPierre involved? How badly had she disrupted the negotiations
     between them and K'L'trok? Were McCoy and Offer still safe? How
     stable was the government on that planet? Could things get any
     worse?' These thoughts kept running through his mind in unceasing
     circles while he wished for his luck to change and for Spock to
     return to the bridge.

     The bridge doors opened, and Jim looked up expectantly, hoping
     that one of his wishes was coming true.

     Chekov entered the bridge at a near run.

     "Reporting for duty, sir."

     "Good, I want you to man the weapons station and navigation for
     now, ensign."

     "Yes, sir." Chekov was glad that he had something to do again. The
     silent vigil he had kept at Sulu's side was wearing him down. He
     slid behind his empty navigation station and started going through
     all the necessary checks of the ballistics and navigation systems.
     The helm was occupied by Ensign Natasha Taravitch, a trainee. They
     were running out of seasoned and highly trained helms-people, he
     reflected. He leaned over and whispered something in Russian to
     his neighbour. She laughed nervously.

     "Belay that chatter, ensigns" ordered the Captain curtly, while
     tapping his finger on the nav-com.

     Chekov cringed, and Taravitch nearly jumped out of her seat.
     Normally the Captain didn't mind quiet conversation between the
     bridge crew. 'Things must really be bad,' Chekov concluded and put
     his full attention into his work. Uhura looked up suddenly.

     "Captain, we are being hailed."

     "On screen then, Uhura, and notify Mr. Spock."

     ---

     In the deep bowls of the Enterprise, Spock was performing a task
     he found distasteful. Interrogating another sentient being. Trying
     to discover the truth when he continually met with evasions at
     best and outright lies at worst. He was also surprised to find
     that he had a headache. He could not remember ever having a worse
     one in his life. Now his temples were pounding in rhythm with his
     heartbeat, and sharp pangs of pain cut across his forehead. If
     this was what the Captain felt every time he complained of a
     headache (and Spock knew Kirk only mentioned the worst ones) Spock
     understood why he went to see McCoy; it was decidedly an
     unpleasant sensation. He then called upon his Vulcan training and
     banished both the thoughts and the pain to the back of his mind,
     to enable him to concentrate fully upon his task.

     He looked at the ensign sitting at the opposite end of a table.
     She looked defiant yet apprehensive. Spock had already been aware
     of her views and the effect it had had on the other crew members.
     She did not have many if any friends among the ships community.
     Her constant assertion that her Believe was the only correct
     philosophy and that all sentient beings had to accept her believe
     of The Way had driven away even crew members that usually managed
     to befriend the most difficult beings. Indeed, no one wanted to
     share duty with her apart from lieutenant Offer, who, Spock knew,
     would try and debate the issue with LaPierre. He knew that the
     Captain was already considering an application for reassessment of
     her suitability in Starfleet when the current situation arose.

     "Please continue, ensign. You beamed down to the planet surface,
     alone, and was approached by a local man. Proceed, please."

     "He forced me to accompany him, and showed me the horrible results
     of your IDIC," she stressed the word 'your' and nearly spat the
     word 'IDIC', her eyes momentary ablaze in anger.

     "And then...," Spock asked, refusing to be baited.

     "Then I had to cooperate. In all conscience. The Way must to be
     spread throughout the universe. And if that means helping the
     local population to defy authority then that's what I had to do."

     "Tell me more about this man who approached you."

     There was a stubborn silence

     "He gave you the tape?"

     A slight nod.

     "His name?"

     Silence.

     "How did you get back on the ship?"

     "Larry Dee beamed me up."

     "Willingly?"

     "Yes."

     "Did he know what you were planning?"

     "Yes."

     Spock's eyebrow rose as he felt the lie hanging in the air.

     "Mr. Dee was aware that you were going to send the tape?" he
     rephrased his question.

     LaPierre had heard that you could not lie to Vulcans. 'Was the
     fact that Spock had asked the same question twice a sign that he
     knew that she was lying?' She disliked Larry, but maybe it was
     unwise to lie at this stage just to get him into trouble; on the
     other hand she had nothing to lose.

     "Yes," she could not help herself.

     "You are not telling the truth, ensign," Spock said gravely.

     "So what are you going to do about it?" she said impudently.

     "I am not going to do anything about it, ensign. But you are not
     helping yourself. Your situation is grave as it is, but
     understandable. Your prevailing attitude is inexcusable. This
     interview is being recorded. Your non-cooperation will not help
     you at your forthcoming hearing," Spock answered her impertinence
     with total imperturbability, although he could sense acutely the
     ensign's dislike of him.

     He wondered how to continue this unproductive interview. There was
     no way he could force any information out of the recalcitrant
     ensign. Thankfully, all known techniques of forcing the truth from
     a prisoner, either by drugs, or the use of the neural neutralizer
     were banned by the Federation. These techniques were only used in
     medical emergencies and rarely at that. The thought of using the
     Vulcan mind-meld on a non-willing participant never even entered
     his mind.

     Spock regarded the ensign, and was about to restart his
     interrogation, when Uhura's voice cut through his thoughts.

     "Mr. Spock to the Bridge, please."

     Spock stood up, went to the wall comm-unit and acknowledged the
     call.

     "This interview is over for now, ensign. Perhaps you should
     reflect upon your statements. If you wish to add or change
     anything I will be available to you. I will send Mr. Karlos to
     guide you through the legalities of your hearing and your legal
     rights."

     Then Spock motioned one of the guards to lead ensign LaPierre to
     her new quarters. The other he ordered to find Lieutenant Dee and
     to detain him until further notice.

     ---

     When Spock arrived on the bridge, he saw his Captain arguing,
     though diplomatically, with the K'S'vait K'L'trok.

     K'L'trok had a worried, nervous manner about him.

     The Captain, Spock noted, was furious but managing to mask it.

     "K'L'trok, the Federation does not deal in hostages. Does not
     trade in humans. And... does not take kindly to threats," Jim said
     as calmly as he could while Spock made his way down to stand
     beside him. Jim acknowledged him with a quick look.

     "Captain, but you did start this unrest." K'L'trok's voice had a
     frightened edge to it.

     "I acknowledge that one of my crew sent a tape given to her by one
     of your citizens. She did not know what was on the tape."

     "Can you prove that?" K'L'trok nearly shouted.

     Jim looked again at Spock, who shook his head ever so slightly.
     "We can, and we will. Meanwhile if anything happens to my officers
     you will be held responsible by the Federation:" Jim's fists
     tightened.

     "We have nothi..." The communication was suddenly cut off and the
     screen went blank.

     "Uhura, what happened?" Jim looked at his communications officer.

     "That was cut off from the planet, Sir," Uhura said somewhat
     mystified.

     Jim Kirk looked at Spock again.

     "Well...?"

     "The statement that we can prove LaPierre obtained the tape from a
     K'S'vait and from whom was rather premature, Captain."

     "You mean she didn't tell you who gave it to her."

     "She was, indeed, rather uncooperative."

     "Did she implicate any one else on board my ship?" Jim's voice
     hardened.

     "Affirmative. She has implicated lieutenant Larry Dee, but she was
     not telling the whole truth. However, I have had him detained."

     "Maybe he can tell us something," Jim felt like grinding his
     teeth. He was getting nowhere and he was not getting any answers.

     "Have you found anything more about their weapons' system, Spock?"
     asked Jim not really expecting a positive answer.

     "Affirmative, Captain," said Spock while clasping his hands behind
     his back.

     "And..."

     "From the incomplete data gathered I theorize that they have a
     system capable of disrupting any specific crystalline structure by
     changing the crystal lattice. They generate an energy beam that
     can break the very gluons that are, so to speak, the strong forces
     that hold matter together. Jim, that requires an incredible amount
     of very precisely focused energy, measured in electron volts it
     would amount to..." Spock would have liked to continue but Jim
     interrupted him gently:

     "Give me the details later, Spock. Is this the same thing which
     the ship that attacked us used?"

     Spock looked uncomfortable at having to extrapolate further, with
     so little data.

     "Captain, there is insufficient data to answer that question. The
     probability that we would encounter two different weapons that
     could cause such similar damage is ...very low," he said somewhat
     reluctantly, wishing he could have time to go into the details.

     "Later, Spock." Jim felt the discomfort of his science officer at
     having to give incomplete answers.

     "But this is interesting and makes our situation also more
     serious. However, can we destroy the weapons with our phasers once
     we have dilithium?"

     "No Captain, the weapons are situated within a similar single
     Urascium crystal structure as the one we met K'L'trok in. These
     buildings are impenetrable by conventional,weapons."

     The Captain was quiet for a few moments, then he asked even more
     hopefully: "Can we come up with anything to counter it?"

     "Affirmative, Captain." Spock waited for a beat.

     Just as Kirk was about to urge him on he continued:

     "Mr. Scott and I have already discussed the necessary changes to
     our shields. I have taken the liberty of telling him to proceed
     with the specific changes. These readjustments will prevent the
     penetration of the beam by diffusing the energy within the
     shields. However, the reinforced shields will provide protection
     for only a very limited period and will use a large amount of our
     own energy." Spock again fell silent, then continued thoughtfully:
     "The K'S'vaits have only two weapon installations on the whole
     planet. These are situated so that each synchronous orbiting ship
     is within range of at least one of the systems at any one time.
     The weapons cover a large surface to area ratio but they are not
     designed for deep-space range. This also explains why all ships
     are allocated specific parking orbits upon their arrival. If we
     could disable one weapon, it would give us a half-orbital period
     in which to leave this orbit safely after new crystals have been
     implemented."

     "And I suppose you have the exact location of these
     installations?" Jim asked somewhat surprised.

     "Of course, Captain," Spock replied serenely.

     A companionable silence fell between the two officers.

     "Spock."

     "Captain?"

     "We need dilithium."

     "Indeed."

     "We will have to... help ourselves."

     "Indeed."

     Jim looked at Spock. But did not see any sign of humour in his
     eyes. "Is that all you have to say - Indeed?"

     Spock was tempted to answer in the manner indicated, but
     refrained. "Negative, Captain. I am intrigued as to who you will
     send to help ourselves."

     "The landing party will consist of myself, Scotty and four
     security guards. You will have the conn, Mr. Spock." Kirk said in
     a voice that normally would book no argument from any one. He felt
     Spock stiffen and knew that he would not get off without
     opposition from his first officer. Suddenly Uhura interrupted the
     silent battle of the wills.

     "Captain, we are being hailed from the planet again. It is someone
     who calls himself Rakholt and wishes to speak to the commander of
     this ship."

     "Acknowledge and wait," ordered Kirk.

     Spock looked at Jim, with a You belong here on the Bridge look and
     a I ought to go but remained silent. He cocked his head to one
     side, raised one eyebrow slightly and waited for Kirk to speak.
     The Captain gave him a scouring look, but then relented and smiled
     ever so slightly.

     "You win, Spock. You go. But don't do anything dangerous, I
     repeat, anything dangerous, like trying to disable any weapon
     systems. Just get the crystals and get back here. Understood?"

     "Affirmative, Captain," answered Spock looking decidedly
     uncomfortable for a Vulcan.

     Jim continued to stare at him severely before reluctantly
     dismissing him. He then made his way to the centre seat and
     indicated to Uhura to open communications.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Footnotes and explanations

Next chapter.


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From: marketa@kestrel.ludwig.ucl.ac.uk (Marketa Zvelebil)
Subject: Re: IDIC-PLANET - A TOS STORY
Sender: news@ucl.ac.uk (Usenet News System)
Message-ID: <1996Apr1.104321.63283@ucl.ac.uk>
Date: Mon, 1 Apr 1996 10:43:21 GMT
References: <827697800snz@yemeads.demon.co.uk> <HO7IYBAPecWxEwNi@rolyat.demon.co.uk> <1996Apr1.101623.90222@ucl.ac.uk>
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                                 IDIC-PLANET

                        Copyright Marketa J. Zvelebil

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

                                 CHAPTER 11

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

     Lieutenant Offer paced the cell like a wild Sadachbian amarrain in
     a small cage. Dr. McCoy followed his movements for a little while,
     before suggesting to the young lieutenant that he sat down.

     "Doctor, we have got to get out of here!" exclaimed Offer
     restlessly.

     "And how do you propose to do that exactly?" asked McCoy still
     observing the pacing Offer. "The walls are made of the same strong
     single-crystal structure the main building is. We are deep
     underground and if you get an inclination to walk through that
     field I'll have to pump you full of cordrazine just to get your
     heart beating again. So sit down!"

     Reluctantly Offer obeyed and slumped down onto the cold crystal
     seat.

     "That's better. I was getting mighty dizzy there. Now, let's
     think," McCoy drawled in his best southern accent. "We can't count
     on the Captain coming to our rescue, not with the ship disabled as
     it is. I want to get back to my patient, so as you rightly pointed
     out, lieutenant, we have to get out. The question is how do we
     trick that guard outside to, switch that deadly field off?" As Dr.
     McCoy was talking he rummaged in his medical emergency kit that
     had not been removed by their captors. Lieutenant Offer was now
     the one who regarded McCoy.

     "Hmm...Aha! Here we may have the key to the door, so to speak, and
     the solution to the guard," he quietly exclaimed, while laying
     three hypos on the bench next to him, after changing the settings
     on each one of them. "Of course, I'll have to be pretty good at
     juggling with these and not get them confused," he went on, half
     to himself.

     Offer gazed at the hypos with a mixture of hope and distrust. He
     got the unpleasant feeling that he was about to play a role in
     this escape that he would not enjoy very much. He hated hypos,
     even though they were supposed to be painless. Well, they were
     not.

     "Come here, lieutenant," McCoy said.

     "Why?" asked Offer suspiciously.

     McCoy now looked up from studying his arrangement of hypos and
     noticed the lieutenant's reticence.

     "Because I am going to give you something that will make it look
     as if you have gone utterly mad." He saw the panic on the other
     man's face. "Now, don't you worry, son. You won't be aware of
     anything and as soon as the guard is anaesthetised, I'll give you
     the antidote." McCoy did not mention the somewhat unpleasant side
     effects of this drug when given in excess: the very same side
     effects that would make lieutenant Offer indeed look like a
     dangerous raving lunatic. Uncomfortable, but relatively harmless,
     and rapidly reversible with the antidote he had already prepared.

     He looked at the lieutenant, who had stubbornly stayed where he
     was. McCoy put his best "country doctor" face on, crooked his
     finger and with a beckoning motion gestured Offer to come and sit
     next to him. "Do I have to chase you round the cell? That might
     look a bit suspicious to the guard. Believe me it is the only
     chance we have of getting out," he coaxed him. "Unless you've got
     a better idea...hmm...?"

     Offer gave a deep sigh and muttered something about the suffering
     inflicted upon the lower ranks by the senior officers, but moved
     to sit next to McCoy.

     "Now just relax, this won't hurt a bit." said McCoy with practised
     ease and quickly pushed one of the three hypos against Offer's
     shoulder. There was a long hiss, while the lieutenant grimaced.

     "Now what?" Offer asked massaging his shoulder.

     "Just relax and wait a bit." McCoy cleaned the hypo and stuck it
     back into his kit. Then he looked at Offer, whose pupils were
     beginning to dilate, his breathing was becoming rapid and there
     was frothing at the mouth. McCoy felt sorry for what he had to
     inflict upon the young lieutenant, but he got ready for the next
     phase of his plan. Suddenly Offer got up and started shouting like
     mad for water. His howls intensified in volume. McCoy's heart
     constricted, knowing the discomfort the lieutenant was feeling.
     But it was having the desired effect. The startled K'S'vait guard
     looked into the cell.

     "He needs water! Quickly! He is suffering from Hyperaquapsycosis
     and will die if he does not get water!" McCoy shouted at the
     guard, the Latin name of a fabricated disease rolling easily of
     his tongue. For a while the guard was indecisive, but another
     ear-splitting yell from Offer, who was now rolling on the floor,
     at last impressed the guard.

     "Stand away!" he ordered McCoy. He took a jug of what looked like
     water from a nearby table. McCoy moved into position, hypo hidden
     but ready. The guard hesitated, but the groaning intermingled with
     shouts and cries were starting to worry the K'S'vait guard
     considerably, who was under strict orders to keep the valuable
     hostages alive and well. Normally, there would have been at least
     another guard on duty with him, but the unrest on the streets
     meant that he was alone. Lieutenant Offer let out another
     ear-splitting scream and the guard was at the controls, shutting
     off the energy field. The moment he stepped through, McCoy jumped
     at the guard and stuck the hissing instrument against the taller
     man's neck with all his might. A look of utter surprise crossed
     the face of the guard before he swayed and fell heavily to the
     ground. 'That was quick, have I given him too much?' thought McCoy
     as he rushed to Offer with his third hypo. He took hold of the
     panicked lieutenant and injected him with the antidote. Offer
     relaxed immediately and fell into McCoy's waiting arms. His
     breathing calmed down. McCoy wiped the face of the lieutenant
     clean with an antiseptic wipe and waited. A few moments later
     Offer opened his eyes and looked with surprise at the face bending
     over him.

     "How do you feel?"

     "Uh...OK...I think... bit disorientated. What happened?"

     McCoy pointed to the guard on the floor and the open entrance. "It
     worked," he said and continued: "If you are up to it we better
     leave."

     Offer got up shakily. "Let's go." and walked to the exit on wobbly
     feet. 'What had McCoy given him?' he wondered as he tugged at his
     sweat-drenched uniform.

     They made their way carefully to the lift. There were no other
     guards visible. Only row upon row of cells, all empty. The lift
     was still at their floor, the open doors inviting them in.

     "Where do we ask it to go?" inquired Offer .

     "Let's try and hit the top button," McCoy suggested.

     "Right."

     Lieutenant Offer lightly touched the top most finger-pad. The lift
     door closed with a fast snap and the lift itself proceeded to
     shoot upwards at such a speed that McCoy though he would be pushed
     though the floor of the lift.

     At last it stopped, and the doors flew open. Gingerly the two men
     stepped out. "I do believe I am a few centimeters shorter after
     that ride," murmured McCoy.

     They found themselves in a little translucent dome that sat on top
     of the main building. The view from this place was stunning. For
     the first time they could see the full beauty of the domed citadel
     spread before them. All the transparent domed structures were
     connected with colourful glass-like domed walk-ways located some
     way from the ground. It gave an impression of a city of glass
     floating in space, reflecting the sunshine in a splendid display
     of coloured rays.

     "It is beautiful!" gasped Offer.

     "It is. But look at the streets, that is not very beautiful," said
     McCoy grimly and pointed below, where the violence that had began
     earlier was still spreading. Suddenly lieutenant Offer gasped.
     McCoy turned round and followed Offer's gaze. There, in a small
     fully transparent dome, sat a large K'S'vait. McCoy cautiously
     approached the dome. In the dome, within a barely perceptible
     stasis-field, was a fully clothed preserved body. The dome was
     adorned with a glittering plaque with text engraved on it in a
     number of languages. One was Basic.

     "Here sits the Master, watching our every move," McCoy read aloud.
     "Charming," he then commented dryly.

     "There is no way out of here," said Offer, who had been examining
     the room. "Only the lift."

     "Well, let's try one floor down."

     When McCoy and Offer returned to the lift, however, they found the
     door firmly shut and the lift gone. "Damn!" exclaimed the doctor,
     angry with himself for allowing this to happen. Quite unexpectedly
     the lift returned and the door opened to deposit a Romulan looking
     humanoid accompanied by four very Klingon-like men. "Welcome, Dr.
     McCoy and Lieutenant Offer," the Romulan said pleasantly and
     extended his hand in a formal greeting. "Allow me to introduce
     myself - I am called Rakholt, and for the time being I am in
     command of this area," he smiled a thin tight smile. "Please do be
     my guests."

     "Guests or hostages?" asked McCoy directly.

     "We are freedom fighters, doctor, we do not take hostages,"
     Rakholt said trying to sound shocked at the very idea and quickly
     continued: "You are a medical man, I would very much appreciate if
     you would accompany my men to one of the factories that are
     inhabited by the 'Unfortunate-ones' and gave them some relief from
     their suffering."

     "Unfortunate-ones?" McCoy, who had not seen the transmission,
     inquired.

     "The ones who are malformed at birth and are used as cheap labour
     in the crystal mines and factories. They are in dire need of
     medical help and protection," explained Rrakholt when he realized
     that both McCoy and Offer were among the few who had missed seeing
     his vid-recording.

     A silence descended upon the small gathering. McCoy found it
     always hard to refuse a request for medical help. He had suspected
     that the genetically diseased K'S'vaits, which K'L'trok
     unwillingly mentioned, would not be well cared for. But he did not
     trust the Romulan. He saw that lieutenant Offer would have liked
     to decline Rakholt's request. "Can we have our communicators back,
     if we go?" he asked at last.

     "Communicators? But of course." Rakholt turned to one of his men
     and said something very quickly in K'S'vathese. "Kiron will get
     them for you. If you would be so kind as to accompany Ktah, Klas,
     and Kratin now." He indicated each of the remaining men with his
     hand.

     McCoy and Offer exchanged glances. They really didn't have much
     choice. The Klingon-like K'S'vaits were well armed and there was
     no other way out of the little dome.

     "We would be delighted," remarked McCoy sarcastically.

     ----

     On the Bridge of the Enterprise Kirk waited impatiently for the
     screen to clear for communications with the being that called
     himself Rakholt. The Captain had been informed by Uhura of the
     meaning of Rakholt in the Rihansu language. He had strong
     suspicions that this was the man behind the tape that his
     navigator had sent planet-wide. He had ordered security to bring
     LaPierre to the Bridge and hoped that she would arrive before
     transmission began. He wanted to observe her closely when this
     Rakholt came in view. The lift doors hissed open and LaPiere,
     flanked by two security guards, was brought to the Bridge at the
     same time the screen cleared and a handsome Romulan face appeared.
     Jim couldn't have hoped for better timing and an even better
     reaction from LaPierre.

     "Rakholt!" she gasped before she could stop herself.

     The Romulan seemed not to have heard.

     "I am Captain James T. Kirk of the Federation starship Enterprise.
     You wanted to speak to me?" Jim started the conversation.

     "My name is Rakholt, and I am the ruler pro-temp of this planet."

     "If you are the 'Ruler' of the planet, then can you return my two
     missing officers?" Kirk opted for the direct approach.

     "Your officers are safe and well. Your doctor has volunteered to
     help the sick and the wounded. He has requested me to ask you for
     more medical personnel."

     "Such request must come directly from my Chief Medical officer."

     "He is very busy and communications are not fully restored,
     however, I will inform him of your answer," Rakholt looked
     sideways of the screen for a moment, then continued: "I gather you
     have need of dilithium crystals. I will have some delivered to you
     along with your officers. I would then appreciate if you could
     leave with all speed and notify your Federation of the atrocities
     that have been committed by the last ruling party. I would also
     appreciate if this planet was returned to an interdict status so
     that we may have time to normalise the situation here." Rakholt
     finished, prepared to wait for an answer. The next phase of his
     plan depended on what this starship, orbiting the planet, would
     do.

     The Captain was very surprised to hear what Rakholt proposed and
     requested. It all seemed so sensible and legitimate. He didn't
     trust it. Furthermore, the situation was now complicated since
     Spock and his team had beamed down to the planet a few minutes
     ago. "Is there any way I can have proof of your sincerity?" he
     hedged.

     Rakholt actually smiled.

     "Captain Kirk, will it not be proof enough that I return to you
     your officers and make you a gift of dilithium?" His look hardened
     before continuing: "There is also the fact, Captain, that this
     planet is not part of the Federation, and as such you have no
     legal authority here. You have no right to interfere with
     intra-planetery matters."

     'Damn that Romulan!' Jim thought half admiringly and said: "You
     are of course correct in stating that, upon the return of my two
     officers, I have no further business with the intra-planetary
     situation, unless I am asked. However, the planet is in Federation
     space, and as such I have a duty to protect the Federation ships
     currently in orbit. I also have a duty to the Federation citizens
     living on the planet, especially those that have been detained
     unwillingly. And lastly, but by far not least, I have a duty to
     protect the Federation space this planet finds itself in from any
     outside intervention, like, shall we say, from the Romulan Empire
     or even the Klingons," he stressed "Romulan Empire".

     "We appreciate your safeguarding our planet," said Rakholt trying
     not to grind his teeth in frustration. "I will await your answer,
     Captain, once you have had time to speak to your officers.
     Good-bye for now," he ended and cut off the transmission.

     "Uhura, try and contact Mr. Spock. Chekov, I want a full visual
     scan and analysis of what's happening on that planet," the Captain
     turned round to face ensign LaPierre, who was still on the Bridge.

     "This was the man who gave you the tape?" he snapped out at her.

     "Yes," whispered the bemused ensign. She had realised during the
     transmission that she and her Way were not included in Rakholt's
     plans. Her glorious conversion of a planet was not to be.

     "Did lieutenant Larry Dee know that you were going to transmit the
     tape?" asked Kirk in a hard voice, taking advantage of the
     ensign's confusion. She shook her head. "Very well. Take her down
     to the brig and release Mr. Dee. Tell him that he is, however, for
     the time being confined to quarters," Kirk ordered the guards and
     returned his attention to Uhura.

     "I cannot raise Mr. Spock or his landing party, sir," she said and
     then continued: "Dr. McCoy's and lieutenant Offer's communicators
     have ceased to function, Captain."

     Jim's hands curled into tight fists. He hated this feelinig of
     helplessnes that any Captain had at a time like this. Now he could
     only wait. He had no control. "Captain, I am also intercepting a
     transmission from Rakholt to an unidentified vessel, but it is in
     pure Rihansu, uncoded." Uhura's announcement sparked a warning in
     him that more danger was imminent

     "Record it and have it translated, Uhura."

     "Yes, sir."

     ---

     Rakholt switched off the transmission with the Enterprise. He was
     unsatisfied and angry. He knew that the human captain suspected
     something. But maybe not all was lost. If Kirk needed dilithium
     crystals, perhaps his ship was disabled enough not to pose a major
     threat. And if his forces were successful with obtaining the
     weapon installations he could always, if necessary, get rid of the
     Federation starship. Well, he would have to notify the Romulan
     commander of that. He had dismissed all his guards and was alone
     in what used to be K'L'trok's office. This was the moment he had
     waited for all those long years. The moment that his father had
     hoped for. Slowly and methodically he manually entered in the
     transmission code for the Rihansu ship, Kklaha, that his father
     had made him memorize from an early age. It was the ship commanded
     by his uncle and the only family member that had not cursed his
     father's name when misfortune had befallen him and he was branded
     a traitor. Now the moment for revenge and glory to both him and
     his uncle had come. He would be accepted as Rihansu by the Empire
     and allowed to return to his rightfull home; Ch'Rihan. He waited
     patiently for the communications with Kklaha. He knew that the
     Kklaha patrolled the Neutral zone and he knew that his uncle was
     waiting for this call - his father had promised him that.

     Forty six light years away a Romulan commander received an
     unexpected but intriguing call from someone who claimed to be his
     lost brother's son. Some one offering him a whole planet rich in
     crystal deposits. Some one who also promised him a Federation
     Starship for easy conquest. Not any starship but that belonging to
     the most wanted Federation Captain by the Romulan empire. Was this
     a trick? Whichever, it was worth investigating with caution.
     "Navigator set course for the planet Kavayak, in the alpha-Shaula
     system. Warp 5." The Romulan commander sat back in his seat and
     imagined the pleasure it would be to meet Kirk under the
     circumstances described by Rakholt, a person claiming to be his
     brother's son.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Footnotes and explanations

Next chapter.


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From: marketa@kestrel.ludwig.ucl.ac.uk (Marketa Zvelebil)
Subject: Re: IDIC-PLANET - A TOS STORY
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                                 IDIC-PLANET

                        Copyright Marketa J. Zvelebil

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

                                 CHAPTER 12

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

     Six shimmering figures materialised on the surface of the planet
     Kavayak.

     As the world returned after the transporter's sparkling ceased,
     Spock saw in the distance the reinforced building which, according
     to his readings, housed one of the menacing weapons. Spock had
     calculated their transporter co-ordinates such that they
     materialised within the defensive energy field but far enough from
     the building so as not to be observed. He motioned for the others
     to crouch down as he himself did, approaching Mr. Scott.

     "Readings, Mr. Scott?"

     Scotty adjusted a number of controls on the specially adapted
     tricorder and scanned the area ahead of them before answering.

     "These /-units indicate a high concentration of the anti-gluon
     energy localised deep underground that construction. The ordnance
     computers seem to be in the centre of the building, Mr. Spock."

     Spock nodded and added looking at his own tricorder.

     "There is also a large concentration of beings who are armed with
     small phaser weapons. The phasers are in use."

     "Aye. Do you think that it's the rebels fightin' with the planet's
     leadership?"

     "It would be in agreement with the situation as we know it. We
     will take advantage of the consequent confusion," Spock said and
     with a wave of his hand indicated that the security squad should
     follow him.

     "Is this where the crystals are kept?" queried ensign Chatham with
     a bewildered look on his face. An uncomfortable silence ensued.
     Only Scott knew that Spock had disobeyed the Captains order, and
     by agreeing with Spock he himself was in infringement thereof. By
     keeping the security personnel in ignorance Spock and Scotty had
     taken full responsibility.

     "Ensign, you will follow my orders without further questions. Is
     that clear?" Spock said coldly.

     The ensign wanted to say more but the look his direct superior
     gave him silenced any further protests.

     They made their way slowly and carefully closer to the building.
     They could hear shouts, yells and an occasional scream that
     followed the sound of a phaser. When they approached more closely,
     the fighting became all too conspicuous. Uniformed guards were
     trying to keep at bay the frenzied attacks from a large number of
     enraged K'S'vaits. It seemed as though the guards were losing.

     Spock attracted Scott's attention. "There," he whispered, although
     he could have probably shouted and not have been heard above the
     dim of the battle. He pointed to a semi-hidden side-entrance,
     guarded by only two guards.

     "Aye."

     Spock took two security men and crept up to the guards, whose
     attention was occupied by the encroaching battle. When Spock and
     the two security people were about two hundred meters from the
     entrance, they stood up and quickly fired their phasers, stunning
     the unsuspecting guards. Spock stood still for a few seconds,
     waiting to see if their attack had been observed. Then he
     indicated for Scotty and the other two to join him. They arrived,
     unhindered, at the door. Locked. Scotty reset his phaser and was
     about to fire when Spock held him back.

     "The entrance may be fitted with an alarm," he said and set his
     tricorder to search for possible alarm circuits. A few moments
     later he shook his head and Scotty, using his phaser set on a
     narrow high-energy beam, cut a neat round hole in the door.

     "They have poor security , Spock," he commented appalled.

     "It is as we surmised, Mr. Scott, and in our favour," Spock agreed
     dryly and continued while dragging the stunned K'S'vait guards
     inside. "Logically, in a rigid society, such as the K'S'vaits seem
     to have, they never expect an attack from within their world and
     any attacks from without are dealt with the fascinating
     crystal-disruption technique."

     "It was a good idea after all to disable tha weapon first, while
     the fightin' is still goin' on. And then goin' after tha
     crystals," Scotty added half to himself.

     "Which way, Mr. Scott?" Spock asked Scotty who was studying the
     specially adapted tricorder.

     "Straight down this corridor."

     They followed Mr. Scott who heeded the tricorder readings.
     Initially they went along a straight corridor that first dipped
     down and then proceeded to climb steeply. There were a few
     side-doors, which the Enterprise team passed by silently. There
     were no windows. The lighting in the corridor was dim. The only
     light came from sparsely spread light-globes. Suddenly the
     corridor veered sharply to the left. Spock tried to prevent
     Scotty, who was engrossed in his tricorder readings, from
     heedlessly turning into the bend. Before he could seize Mr.
     Scott's arm, however, Scotty had turned. Instantly a phaser beam
     hit Mr.Scott, who fell to the ground, the tricorder clattering
     loudly as it bounced on the crystal floor, coming to a stop at
     Spock's feet. Mr Spock picked up the tricorder and handed it back
     to ensign Kaku from security. He then carefully peered round the
     corner. To his surprise there was no one in sight. After a quick
     scan, he noticed two electronic devices mounted in the corners
     alongside a reinforced door. Spock crept along the floor until he
     reached Mr. Scott. He pulled Scotty back round the corner to
     relative safety. The engineer was starting to come round. Spock
     had a medical scanner, which he had appropriated from sick bay, in
     his hand and moved it over Scott's body. It seemed that the phaser
     beam had not hit any vital body parts. But it had made contact
     with Scott's left arm. There was an ugly deep burn in his left
     biceps. Scotty groaned and tried to sit up.

     "Keep still, Mr. Scott," Spock said pushing him back down.

     "Wha' happened?"

     "You were hit by an automatic phaser-beam. Fortunately, it was set
     for the generally taller K'S'vait population," Spock told him
     while he sprayed an antiseptic and antibiotic sealer onto the
     wound. "Otherwise the Captain might be minus his Chief engineer.
     Now try and sit," he said and helped Scotty up.

     "It smarts a wee bit, but I'll be fine."

     "You should return to the ship, Mr Scott."

     "Och, nay! You need me to disable that wee beastie. And anyway, I
     canna beam from within this contraption, can I now?" Scotty
     protested. He wanted to see that weapon-control far too much to
     allow a little phaser burn to prevent him.

     "Very well, Mr. Scott." Spock capitulated, understanding Scott's
     curiosity all too well. He helped him to stand.

     "Sir, shall I blast those phasers out?" asked lieutenant T''la'ct,
     a large Wantabian whose name was pronounced as T followed by two
     throaty clicks, "la" - click - "t". Most other species called him
     "Teelaat or sometimes "Toolate".

     "Negative, Mr. T'la'ct (except Vulcans!). We do not want to set
     off any alarms."

     "Then how are we going to approach the door?"

     "We will have to slide along the floor, as I did to retrieve Mr.
     Scott." Spock answered firmly, then without wasting any further
     time on debates he lowered himself and cautiously made his way
     round the bend.

     The others waited, with abated breath, for the sound of a phaser.
     Silence. Slowly they all rounded the corner and followed Mr. Spock
     who was already by the door, studying this new obstacle with his
     tricorder. Scotty sat next to him, warily regarding the scanning
     automatic phasers above him. Spock put a finger to his lips
     warning him to be silent.

     "The door is made of simple aluminium-radanium alloy. It will pose
     no problems for our phasers. But I read four life-forms within,"
     Spock said quietly.

     "That's a wee problem, but not unexpected," whispered Mr. Scott.

     "No, not unexpected," agreed Spock.

     He indicated for Lieutenant T''la'ct to come closer.

     "The Loceryl-gas canister, please," he requested.

     Lieutenant T''la'ct extracted a tiny capsule-like canister from
     his side-bag and gingerly presented it to the waiting Spock. Then,
     with a surgeon's precision, Spock made a tiny hole in the door
     near the floor with his phaser, while the rest of the team stood
     by with their phasers drawn, ready for action should the
     K'S"vaiths notice anything and make an appearance. Within a minute
     a hole only half a centimeter in size appeared in the door. Spock
     dropped the Loceryl-gas canister through the hole. As the canister
     hit the ground, it exploded with a small "Plop" and released an
     odourless gas. Spock sealed the tiny hole with a piece of medical
     tape.

     "Well, Mr. Scott, now we will find out how good the doctor is at
     weapons design ," commented Spock as he leaned against the door,
     to wait patiently for the required time for the gas to take
     effect. He had calculated that for the size of that room it would
     be approximately 10.35 earth minutes. Mr. Scott managed a wicked
     grin, when he remembered the discussion which ensued after Captain
     Kirk had asked the good doctor to design a small sleeping-bomb.
     Dr. McCoy had answered that he was a doctor not "a damned
     weapons-engineer". He had argued that ethically he could not
     contribute to such designs. He said that he would not be another
     doctor Guillot. Scotty also recalled Mr.Spock's imperturbable
     answer: "Dr. McCoy, the Captain is not precisely asking you to
     design the guillotine. As for your arguments based on ethical
     grounds, is it not better to put a few beings to sleep than to
     have an ensuing battle where far more may be harmed or even
     killed?" Eventually McCoy had capitulated and along with Scott
     they had designed this canister-capsule.

     He was pulled out of his reverie by a light tap on his good
     shoulder. Spock indicated to him to have a look through the tiny
     hole. Scott obliged. He saw that all four K'S'vaits were sprawled
     on the floor, fast asleep.

     "We go in," he said, half questioning, half stating.

     "Affirmative, Mr. Scott, move back,"

     Spock first blasted the two overhead automatic weapons. As they
     glowed and disappeared, an alarm sounded within the other room.
     Spock and Scotty looked at each other.

     "Lieutenant, please," said Spock and indicated,for lieutenant
     T''la'ct to blast the door open. A few moments passed while the
     door, under the barrage of two phasers set on full, glowed first
     dark red, subsequently changing from white to blue, then it
     suddenly disappeared. The sides where the door stood, once
     protecting the chamber containing the weapon-controls, were still
     glowing hot. Carefully Spock stepped through followed by Scotty
     and the security detail. In the middle of the room stood an
     impressive computer console. Its large screen displayed
     graphically each orbiting ship that was a target for the weapons.
     Ships that were just coming in or going out of range were
     blinking. Scotty looked aghast at the tiny but recognisable image
     of the Enterprise, while Spock removed the protective covering of
     the computer system.

     "Fascinating," commented Spock.

     Scotty convinced himself that the guards were tying up the
     unconscious K'S'vaits and then joined Spock underneath the
     console.

     "Can we sabotage it, Mr Spock?" he queried.

     "It is quite simple, Mr Scott. Just change this wafer to that
     memory board, then remove this circuit pathway, demodulating the
     power..."

     Scotty ceased to listen and watched as Spock quickly changed the
     minuscule components of the precision mechanism. He knew that the
     K'S'vaits would have trouble locating all these changes and then
     repairing the extensive but microscopic damage that Spock was
     inflicting upon the unfortunate computer. In considereble pain he
     hoisted himself up but his pain was diverted by examining the
     actual ballistics system. He scanned everything he could into the
     tricorder, concentrating on the production of the anti-gluon
     energy. At last Spock withdrew from the computer's recesses and
     came to stand next to Scott.

     "I have finished. Have you satisfied your curiosity, Mr. Scott?"
     enquired Spock.

     "Aye. As much as I can at such a short notice," sighed Scott.

     "Then I propose that we leave here and you beam back aboard the
     Enterprise. Beam lieutenant T''la'ct, ensign Kaku and myself to
     the coordinates of the small crystal factory we found. Then notify
     the Captain of our alternative plan and the results thereof,"
     Spock said gravely while leaving the room.

     "Mr Spock, I'd rather accompany you...," Scott trailed off when
     Spock shook his head.

     "Mr. Scott, your courage is admirable, however, you are wounded. I
     also need your expertise in beaming me from this set of
     co-ordinates to the other set without first beaming me to the
     ship."

     "Very well, I'll go and face the Captain. And the subsequent
     firing squad," sighed a downhearted Scott.

     "Mr. Scott, you exaggerate," Spock stated seriously.

     "I am nat too sure about that, Mr. Spock."

     "If anyone will face the so-called firing squad, I will be the
     one. You followed my orders, Mr. Scott."

     "Aye, but willingly and would do tha same again," Scotty said and
     grinned. He knew that Kirk would be thoroughly annoyed but he
     believed that the Captain would not court martial either him or
     Spock. At least he hoped that the Captain would not go as far as a
     court martial. Then again...

     They arrived outside the building, cautiously leaving the
     entrance. The battle was still in process, but it seemed that
     there were less rebel K'S'vaits and more of the security troops.
     The Enterprise crew were not noticed.

     Scotty switched his communicator on; as he did so it beeped at him
     incessantly. He looked at Spock, who gave a small nod with his
     head. Upon flicking the communicator open, Uhura's voice came
     clearly across.

     "Enterprise to landing party, come in please."

     "Scott here."

     "Where is Mr. Spock?" came the peremptory voice of the Captain.

     Spock shook his head at Scott.

     "Mr. Spock is about to obtain the crystals, sir." Scotty answered
     truthfully, knowing how Spock hated equivocating.

     "What's taking so long, and why were you incommunicado?" the
     Captain's voice sounded exasperated, and Spock felt unusually
     uneasy.

     "Sir, if I beam back aboard, I can explain everything. Mr. Spock
     has everything under control," said Scotty sounding a little
     worried, imagining his decommission to an ensign at best.

     "Very well, Mr. Scott. Report to the bridge as soon as possible.
     That explanation better be good. Captain out."

     "Thank you Mr. Scott," said Spock, sotto voce.

     "Good luck, sir," Scotty said and called the Enterprise
     transporter room to beam him and two of the security guards
     aboard.

     Soon after they disappeared Spock, T''la'ct, and Kaku shimmered
     out of existence only to be rematerialised elsewhere on the
     planet. An elsewhere, where desolation penetrated to the core of
     the three new arrivals. Mr. Spock felt a cold forlorn aura
     surround him.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Footnotes and explanations

Next chapter.


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Subject: Re: IDIC-PLANET - A TOS STORY
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                                 IDIC-PLANET

                        Copyright Marketa J. Zvelebil

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

                                 CHAPTER 13

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

     "Red alert, red alert, this is no drill, all hands to battle
     stations," the automated alarm blared throughout the ship just as
     Scotty finished the re-materialisation of Spock and his party.

     'Oh my god!' Scotty thought as he realised that had the red alert
     sounded a few moments earlier Spock and the security men would be
     scattered across the universe as the ships shields came on. He
     left and hurried to the Bridge. Upon arriving he heard Chekov
     announcing:

     "Proximity alarms have been activated, Keptin. A Romulan warbird
     dropping out of warp, and assuming orbit."

     Kirk turned round when Scott entered.

     "What happened to your arm, Scotty?" Jim asked, concerned, but in
     a loud voice to override the alarms, seeing the burned sleeve and
     the taped-up arm.

     "It's a long story, sir."

     "Then shorten it, Mr. Scott," Jim ordered as he turned his
     attention back to the screen and Chekov's readings.

     When Scotty hesitated he turned his head slightly and snapped:

     "Well?"

     "Well, sir, Mr. Spock and I thought that it would be a good idea
     to disable the weapon and then..." Scott started.

     "You what?!?!" Kirk looked at Scott unbelievingly.

     "We, uhm..."

     "Keptin, the warbird has attained orbit."

     "Captain, the Romulan commander is hailing us," added Uhura.

     "On screen, on my command," Kirk said, still glowering at Scott.

     "We will have the whole story out later, Mr. Scott," he promised,
     the threat of reprimand implied in the tone of his voice, then
     continued, more gently:

     "If you are up to it can you make sure that we have weapons if
     needed."

     "Aye, sir," Scott said, relieved that the wrath of the Captain had
     been averted for a while. For a moment he nearly felt thankful to
     the Romulans. He then remembered how his Enterprise would suffer
     if she had to use any energy for the weapons with her one cracked
     dilithium crystal and hurried to engineering, all else forgotten.

     "Stand down to yellow alert," Kirk ordered and a blissful silence
     descended on the Bridge.

     Jim braced himself for the verbal tap-dance he would have to
     perform to save his ship. 'So Spock had disabled one of the
     K'S'vait weapons,' he thought. He didn't know whether to be angry
     at Spock for disobeying an order, pleased that Spock had
     succeeded, worried that Spock wasn't back yet, or furious that
     they, therefore, had no crystals as yet. As he composed himself he
     decided that he would be all those when, if (he corrected himself)
     Spock got back. 'If they were still all alive.'

     He turned to Uhura and nodded.

     The screen shimmered and the view changed from the
     menacing-looking Romulan ship to an equally menacing face of an
     older Romulan commander.

     "Captain Kirk, I presume," the cold voice of the commander sounded
     on the bridge.

     No translator, Kirk realised.

     "And whom do I have the pleasure of addressing," Jim said equally
     politely and coldly.

     "I am commander tr'Aihan of the Rihansu Imperial force. I have
     arrived here to answer a distress call."

     "Indeed, and may I ask from whom?"

     "From the inhabitants of the planet that you are currently
     orbiting and which you call Kavayak, Captain."

     "Was the distress call, perchance, from a man calling himself
     Rakholt, Commander?" Kirk tried to goad the Romulan. He had read
     the translated message that his Communications officer had
     intercepted. Thus he was well aware what the Romulan Commander
     wanted: The planet and the current Captain of the Enterprise;
     himself.

     "The name is immaterial, Captain. However, I am planning to
     provide the assistance requested. The planet is not aligned to the
     Federation, therefore you cannot object."

     "The planet may not be a member of the Federation, but it is in
     Federation space, and so are you and your ship, Commander. That in
     itself could be construed as a distinctly provocative action."
     Kirk's voice got even colder and harder.

     "Captain, we are only answering a distress call. Surely that is
     not an unfriendly act," the commander said in an unconvincingly
     soothing manner.

     "Very well. But we will keep a sharp eye on you and your
     movements. Any violent actions will be dealt with immediately,
     Kirk out," answered Kirk with cool composure. He was glad that the
     Romulan, or any one else for that matter, could not see his hands
     sweating. He did not want to try and fight with the so crippled
     Enterprise, and bereft of his best helmsman and science officer,
     who also happened to be the best first officer in the fleet.

     "Chekov, report any changes in their weapon status and any
     movement between that ship and the surface," he swivelled round.

     "Lieutenant Uhura, monitor and report any important
     communications. You also have the conn. I'll be in my quarters.
     Notify me if there is any change whatsoever."

     "Yes, sir," was the crisp reply.

     Before leaving his chair, Jim called engineering.

     "Scott here."

     "Mr. Scott, I want to see you in my quarters. Now," Kirk said and
     cut of the communication.

     ---

     tr'Aihan leaned back in his command chair and took a slow deep
     breath. So far so good. He had managed to place his ship in orbit
     round this planet without incidents that could lead to a
     Rihansu-Federation war. He would have to be very careful. The
     Romulan Empire could not afford a war at this time. He also wanted
     to bring back home a living Captain Kirk. 'A very much alive Kirk
     to stand trial along with that Vulcan-human crossbreed.'
     tr'Aihan's eyebrows descended in a thoughtful frown. He went back
     over the conversation with Kirk in his mind. Word for word,
     looking for all the hidden meanings. And there were a number, he
     realized. He also believed, now, that Rakholt had spoken the
     truth, for the Federation Captain, had been also very careful not
     to escalate further hostilities. 'So maybe his ship is disabled in
     some manner', thought tr'Aihan with a degree of anticipation,
     'patience!' he ordered himself. The honour would be his soon. His
     family name would be restored and he would not have to patrol the
     Neutral zone as a punishment for being a brother to a Dishonoured
     one. How his brother had ended up on Kavayak he did not know.
     However, that too would become clear when he talked to his
     brothers son.

     ---

     As Kirk arrived at his cabin he found Scotty already waiting by
     his door. He noticed that Mr. Scott was very pale and trying to
     inconspicuously support his wounded arm.

     "Come in, Mr. Scott."

     Kirk indicated for Scotty to precede him. As Jim sat down, Scott
     stayed standing rigidly to attention.

     "Oh, do sit down!" Kirk said irritated.

     Scotty sat on the edge of a chair facing the Captain.

     "Well, Mr. Scott, please explain your and Mr. Spock's actions. But
     briefly, as I may be called to the bridge at any time," Kirk said
     calmly but curtly.

     Succinctly Mr. Scott outlined their plan, their reasons and what
     had happened on the planet's surface.

     "We take full responsibility for our actions, Sir. I would like to
     add that I agreed with Mr. Spock's plan and accompanied him
     willingly. However, the security guards knew nothing of this,"
     Scotty ended and waited for the end of his career as Chief
     engineer.

     James Kirk was angry. He was angry that Spock had defied his
     orders, although he admitted to himself that he would have
     probably done the same. He was also angry that Spock had not at
     least tried to discuss the plan with him. But again he had to
     admit that there had not been the opportunity for such a
     discussion. While these thoughts were occupying his mind Kirk kept
     staring at Mr. Scott with a rigid expression.

     "You have willingly agreed to disobey my orders to Spock. Mr.
     Scott, are you aware that that is a court martial offence?"
     queried Kirk in an ice-cold tone of voice.

     "Yes, sir."

     'Not "Aye",' Kirk thought somewhat amused.

     "And you would do the same again?" he continued inexorably.

     Scott looked uncomfortable. "Yes, Sir," he whispered.

     "I see," Kirk said with finality. A forbidding silence occupied
     the room. Scotty had seen the Captain angry many times before, but
     never such cold calculated anger. He really began to fear that
     this time he and Spock had stretched the Captain's tolerance too
     far. Sweat broke out on his forehead and he felt faint from more
     than just the wound on his arm.

     Jim shook his head in exasperation. "Report to Sickbay, Mr.
     Scott," he ordered.

     "Sir?"

     "You heard me. Off to Sickbay with you! Have that arm treated."

     "What about the engin...," Scott tried tentatively.

     "Mr. Scott, are you disobeying my orders again?" Jim asked
     quietly, the threat unspoken.

     "No, Sir, " Scott capitulated hastily.

     "Then report to sickbay. NOW. That's a direct order!" Kirk saw the
     mixed emotions of relief at being let off and worry for the
     well-being of the ship cloud his Chief engineer's face.

     "When and IF you are allowed to leave the doctor's ministrations,"
     Kirk's stomach constricted at the thought that he knew nothing of
     McCoy's whereabouts, "you may return to engineering. Dismissed."

     "Aye, Sir," Scott said relieved.

     Just as he was about to go through the door Kirk's voice stopped
     him.

     "Mr. Scott, never disobey my orders in such a manner again," he
     said very seriously.

     "Yes, Sir," Scotty said quietly and escaped. He wondered if Spock
     would get off as lightly as he did.

     ---

     The landscape that lay before the three officers of the Enterprise
     was bleak, desolate and savagely ravaged by unnatural causes.

     'Here's neither bush nor shrub, to bear off any weather at all,'
     the quote from Shakespeare's Tempest came unbidden to Spock's
     mind.

     They stood atop a small hillock. Black scree crunched under their
     feet. Not one blade of grass, let alone a plant or tree adorned
     the ground. Not even any low scrub. There was absolutely no growth
     anywhere. No sound of birds or insects broke the oppressive
     atmosphere, apart from a dull mechanical thudding noise emanating
     from a hollowed mountain-side a few meters in front of them.

     Frequent gusts of strong wind, however, masked even the thudding
     sound. The loose black scree lifted in the wind and swirled round
     their feet. Half of the mountain which they were facing was hidden
     by a low dark cloud. The lower half had a gaping black-hole that
     served as an entrance into the silent darkness. Metal tracks
     twisted their way into the blackness.

     Spock felt an unaccustomed sensation of heaviness settle upon him.
     It seemed as if, everywhere, desperate voices were trying to reach
     him, to claim him for their own purposes. He tightened his mental
     shields with considerable and disquieting difficulty, glanced at
     the lieutenant and ensign standing behind him. Both looked alert
     and concerned but calmly composed.

     Without any words spoken between them, Spock led his team, as
     silently as possible, down towards the ominous entrance to the
     mine.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Footnotes and explanations

Next chapter.


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Subject: Re: IDIC-PLANET - A TOS STORY
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                                 IDIC-PLANET

                        Copyright Marketa J. Zvelebil

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

                                 CHAPTER 14

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

     The streets of Ka'rakam were filled with the sounds of fighting as
     T'Charu tried to get near the building where her father worked.
     She had stayed at home as he had requested, but the fighting had
     spilled from the streets into the homes.

     Her home had been invaded by an angry mob of people, who knew that
     her father worked as a health-official. They had started by
     breaking everything they could.

     Then they found her brother. Logic would have dictated that
     enraged as they were at the atrocities they had seen on the
     vid-com, they would have left her brother alone. But instead they
     got even angrier, for reasons T'Charu could not fathom. They had
     beaten and kicked her defenseless young brother, who had not
     uttered a single word during the whole ordeal. Then when five
     young Klingonese K'S'vaits had stormed into her house and fought
     off the original invaders, she had managed to drag her beaten
     brother to a hiding place they had found years ago, in the garden.
     There, in the relative quiet of the beautiful surroundings,
     listening to the sound of the fountain, her brother had died in
     her arms, saying only one single word. She now repeated that word
     over and over again, softly, to herself: "Surak."

     She ducked in and out of various entrances, avoiding the violence
     around her. The fighting that she saw sickened her. These people
     had been living with each other for a long time and now they were
     fighting, killing each other. Illogical. She did not comprehend
     and she wanted to understand.

     Then she saw two of the Klingonese K'S'vait boys that had been in
     her house. They were bleeding and shouting a word which she did
     not understand.

     She slipped into an entrance and ran through a deserted domed
     corridor, out one exit, into another corridor and arrived at her
     destination. The back entrance to the government building was
     unlocked. Quickly she made her way, using the dilapidated old
     stairway instead of the lift to her father's office. The door to
     the office was open, and she was reluctant to enter, knowing what
     she would find. But T'Charu had to know. She entered cautiously
     and stopped almost immediately. Her father was slumped across his
     desk, an ornate knife handle just visible behind his head. For a
     long while T'Charu stared at the scene in front of her, memorising
     every detail. She felt anger and hate welling up in her, and hated
     herself for that.

     "Surak. Surak," she repeated now more loudly and desperately.

     Suddenly she heard footsteps. Quickly she hid behind the door and
     peered out onto the corridor. She saw two men, she recognised as
     humans from her xenobiology classes and three Klingon-K'S'vait
     first generation mixtures. She had heard that there was a
     Federation starship orbiting the planet, full of humans. It had
     been the gossip round her school only yesterday. 'These men must
     be from the Starship,' she reasoned. 'If they weren't...'
     Impulsively, she stepped out in front of the advancing men.

     "Help me, please," she said in fluent Basic to the two humans.

     McCoy and Offer stopped in their tracks. They stared at the young
     girl. She was obviously terrified yet had managed to control it.
     Their K'S'vait escort looked unhappy at the interruption but did
     not interfere.

     "How can we help you?" asked McCoy gently.

     The child asked: "You are from the Federation starship?"

     "Yes."

     "My family have been killed. I am Vulcan. I am therefore a member
     of the Federation. You must help me. Take me with you," she said
     in some desperation.

     "There is truth in what she sais," said lieutenant Offer softly to
     McCoy, his heart nearly breaking at the sight of the small,
     frightened yet so controlled child.

     "Of course I speak the truth," she said gazing up at Offer,
     somewhat indignant.

     "You forgot the Vulcan ears, lieutenant," McCoy said with a gentle
     grin. Then he looked at the young girl again.

     "What is your name?"

     "I am called T'Charu."

     "Very well, T'Charu, you can come with us, although for the moment
     we are not going back to the starship," McCoy looked up at their
     escort who had silently and contemptuously regarded the whole
     exchange. "Do you mind if we call the Enterprise and ask them to
     beam the child aboard?" McCoy asked overpolitely.

     "You can try," answered one of the Klingonese K'S'vait mockingly.

     McCoy took out his communicator which had been returned to him and
     flipped it open. The expected bleep of an activated communicator
     was noticeably absent. McCoy repeated his action with the same
     result. He saw that Offer was also unsuccessful in contacting the
     ship with his own communicator.

     "What have you done to our communicators?" he snapped at the three
     escorts.

     "Why nothing," one of them snorted

     "Then why isn't it working?"

     "Must be inferior Federation material," another said scornfully.

     McCoy saw that this conversation would not get any results. He
     turned back to T'Charu, who in her own way reminded him so much of
     Spock.

     "Well, you can see, T'Charu, that we are not currently masters of
     our destiny. Do you still wish to come with us?"

     "Yes, I do," she answered with vehemence.

     "Then be it so," McCoy said and offered his hand. Somewhat to his
     surprise she did not pull back at the physical contact. 'Not fully
     Vulcan,' he thought as they resumed their journey into the
     unknown.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Footnotes and explanations

Next chapter.


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                                 IDIC-PLANET

                        Copyright Marketa J. Zvelebil

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

                                 CHAPTER 15

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

     Spock and his team descended quickly but quietly, the constant
     wind masking any noise they made. The dark entrance loomed larger
     and larger as they approached. It dwarfed the three men. The peak
     of the mountain now completely enveloped within a grey cloud. Even
     the top of the entrance began to disappear in the thick cold and
     damp mist.

     Cautiously the men entered into the darkness. Anguished voices,
     full of wretched bewilderment and suffering, were invading Spock's
     mind. He tried to block them out, but as the intensity of the
     voices increased as they went further into the dimly illuminated
     tunnel, he was only partially successful.

     Slowly they made their way through the unevenly surfaced,
     convoluted stone corridors. Abruptly, the corridor opened out.
     They were standing at the entrance of a large, well-lit cave. The
     onslaught of the pained voices became so strong that Spock
     stumbled. Ensign Kaku rushed to help Spock but tripped and fell.
     He started to rise when he noticed the corpse curled up in agony
     at his side. He could not help himself and screamed. The scream
     echoed round the stone walls of the cavern. Before the echo could
     subside, the sound of a phaser intermingled with another surprised
     shout from Kaku. His form glowed briefly in a blue light before he
     dissolved into nothingness. Spock pulled lieutenant T''la'ct
     quickly down to the floor beside him. As their eyes adjusted to
     the brightness of the cave, they saw three Klingon-like men who
     were looking carefully round them. Spock and T''la'ct were hidden
     from view by a part of the wall jutting out. In front of them they
     saw the body that Kaku had tripped over. It had obviously died in
     torment, a look of incomprehension written all over its face.

     There were more bodies strewn around the cave. In one corner
     additional bodies were neatly laid out in rows. At the opposite
     end of the stacked corpses Spock recognized Doctor McCoy and
     lieutenant Offer, who had obviously been helping the K'S'vaits
     still left alive. Now they were staring at the Klingon-K'S'vaits.

     The incessant invasion of the distressed cries had become so
     strong that Spock could no longer ignore them. He let them fill
     his mind, and realized that they were the death-cries of many
     K'S'vaits who had been mercilessly slaughtered. They had been
     killed by someone they had trusted. He felt the anguish of
     betrayal and heard the call for revenge in the energy that is left
     after the body dies. Now that he had identified the source of the
     persistent thought-invasion, he was puzzled that the voices of the
     dead had penetrated his mind with such facility, but was able to
     banish any further breach of his mental shields. As he returned
     from the meditative state he had been in, he was aware that the
     lieutenant was calling him softly.

     "Yes, Lieutenant?"

     "Look, sir."

     Spock looked to where T''la'ct was pointing.

     The three Klingon-K'S'vaits were now standing near McCoy and
     lieutenant Offer. McCoy was gesticulating fiercely and his voice
     had an angry touch to it. Unfortunately, due to the acoustics of
     the cave, the actual words were distorted by the time they reached
     Spock and T''la'ct. One of the K'S'vaits laughed. The sound of
     laughter among the lifeless bodies was incongruous. The echo of
     the laughter took a long time to die away. It was followed by
     absolute silence. A small but clear voice broke the profound
     silence with words that startled Spock.

     "It is totally illogical."

     He shifted his position and tried to identify the speaker of the
     last sentence. Next to Offer, seated cross-legged on the floor,
     was a young Vulcan-looking girl. The Klingon-K'S'vait who had
     laughed raised slowly his phaser and pointed it at the child,
     saying something that Spock could not discern. Spock ordered
     T''la'ct to stay put till he gave a signal. Then, silently as a
     cat, Spock crept in the shadows round the cave towards McCoy and
     the K'S'vaits. While the K'S'vait holding the phaser was deciding
     whether to kill the annoying child, a shadowy figure raised itself
     from the darkness. the K'S'vait felt his neck go numb, as an
     electric-like shock travelled up and down his spine and then lost
     consciousness.

     "Spock!" thought McCoy, pleased, but remained silent as the
     K'S'vait slid to the floor. At the same time lieutenant Offer hit
     the other K'S'vait with as much force he could muster.
     Concurrently, T''la'ct fired his phaser, and the third K'S'vait
     dropped heavily to the floor. Offer was still fighting with his
     K'S'vaitese opponent. Spock applied the Vulcan nerve-pinch once
     more and gently lowered the unconscious man next to his companion.

     "Spock!" McCoy now said in relief.

     "Doctor," acknowledged Spock, "this is indeed an opportune
     meeting."

     "You mean we are lucky!" grinned McCoy.

     "Perhaps the random factors were in your favour, Doctor," Spock
     conceded. Then he looked inquiringly at the Vulcan child who was
     staring at the third Vulcan she had ever known in her short life.

     "That is a stray we picked up. Half-Vulcan. She has asked for
     asylum from the Federation. Her name is T'Charu." said McCoy with
     some relish as he noticed the slight surprise and considerable
     interest alight in Spock's eyes.

     T'Charu stood up, greeted Spock with the proper Vulcan salute and
     said in slightly accented Vulcan: "Mehe nakkhet ur-seveh."(5)

     Spock's eyebrow ascended slightly as he gravely returned the
     greeting. Then he turned towards Offer and T''la'ct.

     "According to my tricorder-readings the dilithium crystals are
     kept in a chamber to the left of this cavern. Please go and get
     six, preferably trihedrally-cleaved crystals."

     "Yes, Sir, " they both answered and left.

     Spock turned towards McCoy: "Report."

     Briefly, McCoy outlined what had happened to them since leaving
     the ship. He then proceeded to describe, in a rather shaken voice,
     what had occurred since they arrived at the crystal-mine: "We
     arrived here expecting K'S'vaits in need of medical help. But
     there are only five left alive, Spock," he said, his voice filled
     with sorrow and anger, "The rest...well you can see for yourself.
     They did not die pleasantly."

     Spock did not tell McCoy what he had learned from the telepathic
     contact with the lingering essence of those who had lived and died
     there.

     McCoy continued: "I tried to help the five survivors, while Offer
     and our K'S'vathese escort started gathering the dead over there,"
     he waved his hand distractedly. "At first, the K'S'vaits told us
     that it was the planet's government that killed these poor souls
     as punishment for appearing on some kind of Vid-film that the
     Romulan, Rakholt, had made. But then one of the surviving wounded
     K'S'vaits told Offer that the blasted Romulan himself had them all
     killed. These Klingon-K'S'vaits heard him and wanted to kill him.
     That was when the argument started and we were told that we would
     also be killed and the government blamed. After that you appeared
     as the devil himself." McCoy ended in a tired voice. Spock raised
     an eyebrow at the reference to the devil but said nothing. He went
     to the five surviving K'S'vaits.

     McCoy followed him saying quietly: "They will not survive long.
     Only one speaks any Basic." and led Spock to him. Spock saw a
     wretchedly malformed and fatally wounded being lying on a narrow
     cot. He saw that McCoy had made him as comfortable as was
     possible. He sat down on the floor next to the cot.

     "Can you tell me what happened?" he asked.

     Very slowly and with considerable difficulty the wounded K'S'vait
     told him everything. Starting with how they were really treated by
     the ruling K'S'vaits, to the promises made by Rakholt, and
     ultimately how the were betrayed by him. While he told his story,
     Offer and T''la'ct had returned with the six dilithium crystals.
     Now they were also listening, aghast, to the tragic tale. After he
     finished his account the K'S'vait closed his eyes in exhaustion
     and pain. Spock would have preferred to alleviate the K'S'vait
     pain with a mind-touch, but he doubted the weakened state of his
     own ability to shield. McCoy pressed a hypo to the K'S'vait's arm.

     "He will sleep now," said McCoy soberly.

     Spock got up from the floor. He was aware that T'Charu had been
     watching him without cessation.

     "We must beam back to the ship. Dr. McCoy, can we safely transport
     the wounded outside?"

     After checking on each of the five K'S'vait survivors McCoy turned
     to Spock, shaking his head in frustrated disbelieve.

     "Not necessary, Spock," said McCoy quietly, while putting all his
     medical tools back into his medi-kit. "They are dead."

     "I do not understand the logic of this!" said T'Charu abruptly, in
     a pained voice.

     Spock went to her and knelt beside her. "There is none. T'Charu,
     the universe and its inhabitants do not follow a logical path.
     Neither did Vulcans for a long time, and chaos and destruction was
     rife on Vulcan. That is why we chose to follow logic and master
     our emotions. But most beings live their lives neither fully
     controlling nor being fully controlled by their emotions. What you
     have seen today is when people are uncontrollably possessed by
     their emotions, and that is never logical," he said gently.

     "I wish to master my emotions," stated T'Charu.

     "That is a long process, T'Charu. Part of the process is accepting
     the concept of: What is, is. and: the truth of the situation.
     Therefore, try and accept what you have seen, and we will meditate
     on it when time allows."

     "You mean Kaidith and C'Thia?" asked T'Charu .

     "Yes. Come," answered Spock and got up. T'Charu hesitated, then
     being only half-Vulcan and brought up on a planet where touching
     was an important part of life, tried to take Spock's hand. Spock
     recoiled as if a high-voltage electric shock had been passed
     through him. T'Charu, unaware of her strong telepathic ability,
     had, when touching Spock, unwittingly and suddenly transferred all
     her emotional turmoil to him. T'Charu sprung back like a
     frightened gazelle. Concerned she looked up at Spock. 'Would this
     real Vulcan turn away from her now?' The only other Vulcan she
     knew was her mother, but she had died when T'Charu was two. Her
     Vulcan teacher was an old man who had to some extent abandoned the
     way of Surak. But this tall quiet man seemed to follow Surak's
     philosophy and be able to control his emotions. She did not want
     to antagonize him.

     "I am sorry," she said in a small voice eyes downcast.

     "T'Charu, have you ever been tested for your telepathic ability?"
     asked Spock , his usual calm self again.

     "No, sir," still unwilling to look up.

     "Well, T'Charu, when you touched me, you unexpectedly invaded my
     thoughts. That is unacceptable among Vulcans and many other
     telepathic races." Spock saw from the corner of his eye that McCoy
     was getting upset at his severe words addressed to the child. But
     she was half-Vulcan wanting to be Vulcan: it was necessary.

     "I am sorry," she repeated meeting his level gaze with her own.

     "Do not be. It is important to learn from our mistakes. You may,
     now, if you wish, hold my hand." Spock prepared himself mentally
     and held out his long slim hand. Tentatively T'Charu put her small
     thin hand in his. He gripped it tightly. The older Vulcan, well
     able to master his emotions, led the younger Vulcan who was still
     at the beginning of her path of learning.

     The subdued and exhausted Starfleet officers left the oppressive
     crystal mine filled with anguish and pain to find that night had
     fallen. The two moons of Kavayak were barely visible through the
     fog. The wind had died down and thick silence enveloped them. 'No
     snowfall here,' Spock thought idly as he flipped open his
     communicator with his free hand. It chirped twice:

     "Spock to Enterprise, come in please."

     "Spock!" the Captain's voice cut through the oppressive silence,
     "where the devil have you been?"

     'Second reference to the devil,' thought Spock wryly but said
     formally: "Dr. McCoy, Lieutenants Offer and T''la'ct, a young
     guest and I are requesting beam up, sir. "

     There was a short but profound silence from the other end. Both
     McCoy and Spock could almost feel Jim's relief that they were
     alive and well, and also his frustration at having had to wait on
     the ship without any action or knowledge of their whereabout. Both
     were unaware that a Romulan warbird had arrived during their
     absence.

     "It's about time," they heard Jim say softly, then more severely:
     "We have to lower our shields to beam you aboard, stand by."

     Spock and McCoy looked at each other, Spock's eyebrow did a rapid
     ascent.

     "They must be very low on energy if they have been using the
     shields," he said to McCoy.

     "How much time will we have left?" asked McCoy with concern.

     "At best 4 hours, 28 and a half minutes, at worst 1 hour 15
     minutes." Spock calculated the energy utilization function of the
     Enterprise shields with respect to her other energy requirements
     and the residual energy as easely as adding two and two. McCoy
     hurrumphed and glowered at him.

     T'Charu, her hand still clasped in Spock's, observed the exchange
     between McCoy and Spock with great interest.

     The communicator beeped again.

     Kirk's voice came through: "Ready for beam-up. Mr. Spock and Dr.
     McCoy report to my cabin immediately upon return. Along with the
     ... guest."

     "Jim, I need to check up on Sulu first," McCoy shouted down
     Spock's communicator before he could sign off.

     "Very well, Bones. Please, see me as soon as you can. Spock,
     immediately!"

     "Yes, sir," Spock managed to say as the desolate planet started to
     shimmer and they dissolved into their atomic particles and waves.
     Just before the real world disappeared for the few seconds it
     would take for the transporter to dematerialize and rematerialize
     them, Spock heard an astonished gasp originating from T'Charu.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Footnotes and explanations

Next chapter.


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From: marketa@kestrel.ludwig.ucl.ac.uk (Marketa Zvelebil)
Subject: Re: IDIC-PLANET - A TOS STORY
Sender: news@ucl.ac.uk (Usenet News System)
Message-ID: <1996Apr1.104732.45814@ucl.ac.uk>
Date: Mon, 1 Apr 1996 10:47:32 GMT
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                                 IDIC-PLANET

                        Copyright Marketa J. Zvelebil

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

                                 CHAPTER 16

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

     When Kirk cut off the communications with Spock he belatedly
     realized that Spock had not mentioned ensign Kaku. He had,
     therefore, to assume that the ensign had been killed or lost in
     action. Jim hated losing any of his crew, but in some way
     especially those that had joined the Enterprise only recently,
     like ensign Kaku. Only two months out and already dead. He would
     have to wait and get the report from Spock.

     When Uhura had notified him that Spock was hailing the Enterprise
     he had just reached the relative sanctuary of his cabin. He had
     just finished another gruelling battle of words and wills with the
     Romulan Commander tr'Aihan. The commander had not been able to
     communicate with Rakholt since their first contact and was
     preparing to send down a landing party. When Chekov's constant
     monitoring of the Romulan ship had indicated that a large
     transporter activation was about to occur, Kirk had immediately
     requested Ship to Ship communication with tr'Aihan. After the swap
     of threats, lies and deceptions Jim was told that tr'Aihan was
     preparing to send down a small number of Romulan aid-workers.
     Which Jim translated as a large number of Romulan soldiers. He had
     managed to convince tr'Aihan that it would be in his best interest
     to wait for the outcome of the conflict between the rebels and the
     ruling party, and not waste the lives of his brave aid-workers
     unnecessarily. In between the verbal arguments the Romulan ship
     had charged and subsequently deactivated her phaser and photon
     torpedoes. Kirk had to answer in like fashion, and the drain on
     the ship's nearly exhausted energy supply was driving him crazy
     not to mention Scotty. As the Captain, he could not shown his very
     real concern to his crew. Now he slumped in his chair, as drained
     of energy as the Enterprise.

     He wondered in what fashion to reprimand Spock, as he must, for
     his infringement. And he wondered who this guest was that Spock
     had mentioned. He also fervently hoped that Spock had managed to
     obtain some crystals. Jim stood up and paced through his cabin;
     'Too small to comfortably move around in,' he thought for the
     hundredth time.

     The chime to his cabin announced the arrival of Spock.

     "Enter," he said and the doors slid open to reveal not one but two
     Vulcans silhouetted in the doorway.

     Silently Spock and a young Vulcan girl entered the Captain's
     cabin.

     The first thing that Jim could not help but notice was how unwell
     Spock looked. Jim stared at Spock speculatively for a long moment.
     Spock matched the expression look for look. A series of thoughts
     and feelings were communicated between them in that moment.

     Jim thought: 'Down to business,' and asked:

     "Did you obtain the crystals?"

     "Yes, sir. They are in Mr. Scott's capable hands."

     "Then introduce me, please, to our guest."

     Briefly Spock outlined what he had learned from McCoy and T'Charu.
     "T'Charu is formally asking you for asylum on the Enterprise. She
     intends to apply for Vulcan citizenship when we arrive there,"
     Spock ended.

     "Alone?" Jim looked at the child who had not yet spoken a single
     word.

     T'Charu was studying him intently, but he could read no expression
     on her face.

     T'Charu felt disorientated. First her experiences down on Kavayak,
     then her first encounter with the transporter, followed by her
     walk through the gigantic starship to stand now before the man who
     would decide her imminent future. And she could discern some doubt
     in his voice with that one word: 'Alone?' She felt fear creeping
     into her mind with the thought that the Captain may return her to
     Kavayak. She wanted so much to go to Vulcan. To leave all that had
     happened behind. She suppressed the fear and continued to regard
     the Captain with quiet calm.

     "I intend to ask my parents to accept her as a legal ward."

     "Very well, Spock. You will keep me informed as to the progress on
     that matter, then." Jim turned his steady gaze on T'Charu.

     "Welcome aboard the starship Enterprise. You are officially
     granted asylum on this ship by me as the Federation
     representative. We will do everything possible to help you," he
     said gravely.

     "Thank you, Captain Kirk," answered T'Charu equally gravely,
     although she felt all the fear drain away and heavy tiredness
     settle over her.

     Jim looked back at Spock and addressed him: "Now, I would like a
     private word with you, please."

     Spock nodded and led T'Charu to the door. As the doors opened Jim
     saw that lieutenant Offer was waiting outside. Offer now took the
     child and led her away. Spock returned to face his Captain saying:
     "Captain, I am at your disposal."

     "That's a change," said Jim sarcastically, walking away from
     Spock.

     Spock remained standing quietly.

     Jim turned to face Spock eyes blazing.

     "Just what the hell did you think you were doing?" he asked with
     barely controlled anger.

     Again Spock felt all the Captain's emotions. 'I can no longer
     shield properly!' he realized while also discerning, threaded
     through the fury directed at him, the enormous worry that his
     Captain had felt. He composed himself and managed to say with
     absolute equanimity:

     "I was gathering dilithium crystals and I thought it wise to
     disable at least one weapon-system while on Kavayak, sir."

     "Against my direct orders, Spock?" snapped Kirk.

     "I am sorry to have disregarded your orders, Captain. At the time
     it seemed the logical thing to do."

     "My first officer going against my orders. What next, Spock?"
     asked Jim rhetorically. "Mutiny?".

     "I sincerely trust that that will never be necessary, Captain."

     "I could have you court martialed and decommissioned to a cleaning
     drone!" exclaimed Kirk, and banged his hand in frustration on his
     desk.

     "I concur, Captain, that you can have me court martialed and
     decommissioned. Perhaps you should, even though I have
     successfully completed both your mission and my unauthorised
     mission, while also finding the doctor and lieutenant Offer.
     However, I cannot be decommissioned to a cleaning drone. The drone
     is a machine. I, however, am not," Spock said in a most sober
     tone.

     A ghost of a smile stretched the Captain's lips. But no smile
     reached his eyes.

     "Spock, I cannot allow my most senior officers to disregard my
     orders. It is bad for discipline."

     "I agree, Captain."

     "Then you also agree that I must severely reprimand you?"

     "Indeed, Captain, I would expect nothing less."

     "Fine. Consider yourself severely reprimanded. And don't ever do
     that again, Spock, or I'll throw you out through the garbage-dump
     into empty space, understood?"

     "Yes, Captain. Through the garbage-dump into empty space. I will
     remember, sir."

     "Good. Now give me a full report, " ordered Jim, not the least bit
     amused. Nevertheless he prepared his chessboard for a game. 'Would
     this be the last game he ever played?' he thought and reprimanded
     himself for such defeatist notions.

     Spock, in his weakened state picked up Jim's thoughts as if the
     Captain had spoken them aloud.

     "We have been in worse situations, Captain."

     "Not much worse. But now that we have dilithium, things are
     definitely looking up. And as I remember you once said: 'There are
     always alternatives.'" Jim smiled and indicated for Spock to sit
     at the opposite side of the chessboard.

     "Now report, please," he said as he made his opening move.

     'A very bold move,' Spock noted, 'leaving the queen open to
     attack.' Spock thought about his counter-move while reporting what
     had happened on Kavayak.

     Four moves later, Spock had finished his rather disturbing report.
     Jim shuddered as he imagined the mine filled with poisoned corpses
     of the K'S'vaits. He felt sorrow at the sensless way ensign Kaku
     had died. His hand hovered holding a pawn above a level-two white
     square, when his thoughts and the game were interrupted by the
     penetrating ships-alarm signal.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Footnotes and explanations

Next chapter.


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From: marketa@kestrel.ludwig.ucl.ac.uk (Marketa Zvelebil)
Subject: Re: IDIC-PLANET - A TOS STORY
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                                 IDIC-PLANET

                        Copyright Marketa J. Zvelebil

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

                                 CHAPTER 17

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

     "RED ALERT RED ALERT THIS IS NOT A .."

     "What the..." Kirk snapped the communications on. "Report!"

     The calm face of Lieutenant Uhura, sitting centre seat, addressed
     the Captain:
     "Chekov has monitored the targeting of weapons on us from Kavayak,
     Captain. We seem to be under attack."

     "On my way." Jim let the communication screen go blank.

     "Well, Spock, the 'fun' has started."

     "Captain, we will be out of range of the functioning weapon in 11
     minutes and 24 seconds." Spock informed his commanding officer as
     they made their way to the bridge.

     All around them the crew of the Enterprise were hurrying, in an
     orderly manner, to their respective stations. Stations that had to
     be manned during yet another red alert.

     "Eleven and a half minutes before we enter the orbit controlled by
     the weapon you managed to disable, Spock?"

     Spock nodded: "Ten minutes and 54 seconds" as they reached the
     bridge.

     "Uhura try and get whoever is in control on the planet."

     Uhura did not answer as she quickly vacated the Captain's chair
     and slid behind her familiar communications board. Kirk looked
     around the Bridge. Scotty was busy at his station.

     "Mr. Scott, do we have full power capacity?" asked Kirk hoping for
     some good news.

     "We have 80% of power back, Captain, includin' full shields but
     limited weapons. The Enterprise is capable of full impulse and a
     wee bit of warp."

     "Wee bit?"

     "Well, she can give warp 5."

     "That will do." said Kirk and looked at the navigation
     station.'Damn! He missed Sulu!'
     "Status, Mr. Chekov."

     "Their weapon is locked on to us and power building up. Now at
     54%, Keptin."

     "Spock, can we escape this weapon, before it's at full power?"

     "Negative, Captain. Fifty five percent is enough to disrupt all
     our dilithium crystals."

     "Captain, I have K'L'trok. Coming on screen now." Uhura touched a
     toggle and the screen filled with the now familiar face of the
     K'S'vait.

     "K'L'trok, why have you targeted our ship?" Kirk did not beat
     about the bush.

     "Just a small precautionary measure, Captain. As you see we have
     your uprising under control." K'L'trok looked pleased with
     himself.

     "Not my upr..." Jim started to protest when he was interrupted by
     the self-assured K'S'vait:

     "You, Captain, have a number of charges to answer to: Firstly the
     transmission of the inflammatory tape. We have also received news
     that a certain mine has been broken into by your officers and not
     only have they stolen our dilithium but massacred all the poor
     defenceless people working there."

     The relief that K'L'trok did not mention a weapons installation,
     and the slight unease, that Jim felt at the mention of the
     dilithium evaporated with the absurd charge of mass-murder, to be
     replaced by real anger. "You are wrong on a number of accounts,
     K'L'trok, and we have evidence to prove it." he said trying to
     stay calm. He knew he had to play for time. All their lives
     depended on keeping the K'S'vaits from firing too soon with the
     fully functional weapon.

     "We cannot believe any evidence you have - it could have been
     manufactured - like that transmission of the Romulan half-breed."

     Spock raised his eyebrow at the use of that particular term. He
     had made his way down to stand next to the Captain's chair. "Two
     minutes, 23 seconds. 89% charged." He said under his breath.

     "K'L'trok continued: "We will give you an example of our power, if
     you do not pay reparation for your serious crimes against this
     planet. The price for your safe departure, the dilithium and the
     life that you have taken will be 12 humans, six male and sex
     female specimens. We think that that is a very fair price. You
     will give me an affirmative answer now."

     The captain glanced at Spock. A few seconds passed in tense
     silence, then Spock gave a nearly imperceptible shake of his head.

     "K'L'trok, please let us..."

     "NOW, Captain!" K'L'trok suddenly shouted.

     K'Fron, who had been waiting at the weapons control centre, ready
     to fire, tensed. This ship would be a pleasure to destroy. The
     destruction would be recorded and replayed on his screen via the
     recording satellites orbiting the planet. He took pleasure in the
     sweet anticipation of good things to come.

     On the bridge of the Enterprise Kirk had had enough. "Out of the
     question. We do not deal in beings, human or otherwise. We will
     speak to you, later, about charges against your government by your
     population, Federation- origen and otherwise."

     "Your later will not come. Salutations, Captain." K'L'trok stated
     as his eyes changed colour to a deep deep red. Kirk saw him
     gesture at someone off-screen.

     K'Fron did not hesitate. He touched with an almost loving caress,
     a dark-blue pulsating pad. On the ballistic-display surface the
     weapons countdown started: "10,9,8,..." The countdown was audible
     on the Enterprise bridge, as the translator changed the mechanical
     computer-voiced K'S'vait numbers to Federation equivalents.

     Kirk held his breath. The atmosphere was tense. Chekov and Uhura
     exchanged a glance.

     "Captain..." Spock began calmly but softly , "we still need forty
     tw..."

     The ship shuddered. A high pitched sound ran through the
     Enterprise, seemingly shaking the very fabric of her structure
     apart. Reality wavered. Kirk held tight onto his command chair. He
     felt Spock trying to keep his balance next to him. Chekov was on
     the floor, curled up in a foetal position. He wanted to curl up
     himself. Too many sensations hammered at his brain. Suddenly, he
     was the ship, being dismembered atom by atom. Now he was Spock,
     the crystal-clear thought processes being twisted into a muddy
     barbed coil. He was the fear, confusion and hope of all his crew
     drowning in hopeless knowledge of the End. He was Sulu, empty yet
     still so full. He was McCoy fighting for all life with death
     looming above, dark and infinitely insistent. "Spock..." he
     whispered beseechingly.

     ---

     "Three, four, two, one. All systems ready...firing." The
     computer's sybthetic voice announced, in the little crystalline
     dome where K'Fron and now also K'L'trok watched the monitor in
     anticipation, like small children waiting for their favourite
     vid-com program.

     The curve on the display peaked. A continuous ascent of energy,
     provided first by a single weapon. As the still, at least
     partially, intact starship entered the other half of the orbit,
     the second weapon took over the deadly battering of the ship. The
     display showedthe disruptive isotropic-beam exiting the weapons
     and streaking through the planet's atmosphere to space and the
     orbiting helpless starship.

     K'Fron watched as, on the screen, the structure that was the
     Enterprise shimmered, changed into a cloudy wave-like shape and
     disapeared.

     "She has been eliminated." announced K'Fron. "Pity about the human
     merchandise, though."

     K'Fron looked at K'L'trok when he did not answer his barb about
     K'L'trok's failure to obtain human stock. K'L'trok was now looking
     towards the communications screen. K'Fron looked at that display
     as well and froze.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------


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From: marketa@kestrel.ludwig.ucl.ac.uk (Marketa Zvelebil)
Subject: Re: IDIC-PLANET - A TOS STORY
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                                 IDIC-PLANET

                        Copyright Marketa J. Zvelebil

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

                                 CHAPTER 18

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

     Sudden calm and reality returned to the Enterprise. Kirk was Kirk
     and everything seemed normal. The ship was still intact.

     "Spock?"

     In that one word were at least three questions. Spock answered
     them in his preferred order.

     "We were within the reach of the functional weapon for 10 seconds,
     before entering the zone covered by the disabled weapon. The
     changes that we had implemented to our shielding have prevented
     our immediate destruction, but probably caused the
     somewhat...interesting sensory effects." He surmised that the
     first two answers would also answer the final question that the
     Captain's "Spock?" had implied.

     Jim allowed the small smile that had began to form at Spock's
     report (and Spock's avoidance of answering the Captain's concern
     for Spock's well being) to reach a full relieved smile as the
     reports coming in from Scotty and Uhura confirmed that the
     Enterprise was undamaged and that his crew had not sustained any
     serious injuries. He was suddenly aware that they still had open
     communications with the planet and indicated for Uhura to close
     them immediately.

     "Captain we have full power to all systems." Scotty announced not
     bothering to hide the satisfaction and relief in his voice.

     "Good. Mr. Chekov, lay in an orbit ten kilometres higher than our
     current one. That should put us well out of reach of any other
     nasty surprises from the K'S'vaitans. Mr. Offer, please implement
     the change as soon as Mr. Chekov has finished."

     "Yes, sir." came the double reply.

     "Spock, the likelihood that similarities to the attack that
     brought us here in the first place are coincidental are..."

     "Approximately 1544589.3032 to one, Captain."

     Jim could not help but suspect that Spock made those numbers up
     sometimes - his way of saying 'improbable'. "Astronomical, indeed.
     Then we must act upon this opportunity. We cannot afford to fail
     in preventing any further weapons-technology from leaving this
     planet ."

     "To fail in the disposing of those chances/ which he was lord of,"
     Spock said suddenly.

     Kirk looked at his science officer with a bit of concern. "What?"

     "Shakespeare, Captain." Spock did not elaborate.

     "Aah!" Captain James Kirk leaned back in his seat and contemplated
     his next move. How to proceed, and quickly. He wanted to leave for
     Vulcan as soon as he possibly could, but first he had to secure
     this quadrant of space. A nearly imperceptible sigh escaped his
     lips. Spock was back at his station looking for the same answers
     as his commanding officer.

     ---

     "Sickbay to bridge," the irate and somewhat strained voice of Dr.
     Leonard McCoy demanded the Captain's immediate attention.

     Jim Kirk had no illusions about what had irritated the good doctor
     and the complaint about to be voiced. Nevertheless, he punched the
     pad that would connect him to sickbay. "Kirk here..." he said
     pleasantly as 'Here it comes...' flashed though his mind.

     "Are you quite through shaking this ship about, not to mention
     turning us all inside out?"

     "Oh, yes. Quite, Bones," he answered placatingly, a smile tugging
     at his lips.

     "Right. Then Jim can you set course to Vulcan full, speed ahead?"

     At this request the soft chatter on the bridge ceased. Chekov
     tensed. Both Lieutenants Offer and Uhura looked at the Captain.
     Spock winced slightly as if in pain.

     "Not just yet, Bones", said Jim gently, "Sulu...?"

     "I've had to place him in stasis, Jim. He began to withdraw again
     and his vital signs were dangerously low after that last attack,"
     McCoy's voice sounded very tired. "And I won't allow another of
     Spock's unauthorised medical interventions." he continued with an
     added touch of querulousness.

     Spock said nothing. He had to agree with the doctor. Something was
     not quite right with his ability to control his telepathic
     capabilities since his last mind-meld with the lieutenant. He
     doubted that in his current state he could be of any assistance to
     the helmsman.

     Jim looked at Spock, expecting some reply and was surprised when
     none came.

     "Very well, Doctor. I will try and expedite things here. Now that
     we have all our power back why don't you contact healer Sorel or
     Corrigan and notify them of their new patient?"

     "Yes, well it may be helpful, but what Sulu really needs is the
     regeneration treatment and fast, Jim. There's nothing more I can
     do for him here."

     "I know, and I am doing my best. But there are certain things that
     have to be finished here."

     "Can't we take Sulu to Vulcan and then come back?" asked McCoy
     although he knew the answer to that.

     "No, Bones. We're going to make certain that no more ships are
     caught in the K'S'vait's trap, with the consequent marketing of
     lives."

     There was an audible grunt of assent at the other end of the
     transmission.

     "And," Jim continued, "there is the weapon-technology. It seems
     that that too has been used in trading and that must definitely be
     stopped. Spock's comparative analysis of the latest attack from
     Kavayak and the one that caused our initial damage shows far too
     many similarities to be accidental."

     "Well, sort it out then. ASAP! McCoy out."

     "Yes, Sir" Kirk said under his breath.'Sort it out indeed!'

     He needed some time to think and would have liked to leave the
     bridge for the quietness of his cabin. But he already had his
     rest, and Spock had not had one moment off duty since coming back
     from the planet. It was time for Kirk to put his foot down and
     send Spock off. He took one deep breath, got up, tugged his shirt
     straight and stepped up to the science station. Spock glanced up
     partially as the Captain approached. The blue light from the
     viewer shining on his face, accentuating the austerity of his
     features.

     "Captain, we can further improve shielding against this kind of
     weapon, but, currently, not enough to withstand long periods of
     attack. It is not the intensity of the beam that is important but
     the length of time a substance is exposed. The length of exposure
     to the beam is directly proportional to the oscillation produced
     within the matter which consequently disrupts it. Crystalline
     matter is more susceptible by its very nature of being in an
     ordered state. That is why, in the initial attack, only our
     dilithuim crystal were severely damaged and the Enterprise did not
     disintegrate. I surmise, that the K'S'vaits do not sell their
     whole knowledge, just parts of it."

     "But even this partial knowledge can be very destructive and
     dangerous."

     "Indeed."

     "Why was Sulu so badly affected, then?"

     "If you will recall, Captain, Mr. Sulu was in the process of
     examining the navigation board. It contains small but highly
     ordered monoclonal crystals. If Mr. Sulu was in contact with one
     of those crystals the energy of a toned-down beam would be
     sufficient to affect him as well."

     "As it did..."

     "Yes, Captain, as it did."

     "Spock?"

     "Captain?"

     "I would like you to go off active duty for the next few hours."

     Kirk was already preparing the counter-argument to Spock's
     protest, when Spock said calmly.

     "Very well, Captain. I shall be in my quarters." He indicated for
     his acting science officer to take over and made his way to the
     lift leaving the Captain non plussed.

     The lift doors shut behind Spock. He felt relief at leaving the
     bridge. Although they had escaped the attack, the atmosphere on
     the bridge was charged with emotion. Both joy at overcoming one
     danger, and worry about Sulu. Normally he would not even be aware
     of the atmosphere (unless he purposely wanted to), but for the
     last few days he could not keep the emotions of the others from
     invading his peace of mind. 'What had happened since his mind-meld
     with Sulu?' He had been in such deep mind-melds before with no
     lasting aftereffects.' So why now? ' The lift came to a smooth
     halt at deck 5. He would contact his parents, meditate for an hour
     and a half and then talk to T'Charu again he decided as he entered
     his Vulcan-warm cabin.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Footnotes and explanations

Next chapter.


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From: marketa@kestrel.ludwig.ucl.ac.uk (Marketa Zvelebil)
Subject: Re: IDIC-PLANET - A TOS STORY
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                                 IDIC-PLANET

                        Copyright Marketa J. Zvelebil

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

                                 CHAPTER 19

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

     Rakholt had narrowly escaped the advancing Special Security forces
     that had been deployed to re-capture the governmental dome.

     Since he had learned of the escape of the Federation men from the
     mine, the situation for him had gone from bad to worse. His
     attempt at capturing and taking control of the weapons
     installations had failed catastrophically. All his people had been
     either killed in action or captured and then immediately executed.
     The military had wasted no time in showing the executions over the
     world vidcom network. Two of his other battalions, upon seeing
     this transmission, and having had only limited success in their
     own missions, had disbanded and fled. Only his ever-faithful
     officers had the courage to come and report to him. Then they
     performed The Ritual that all had previously agreed upon, in case
     of failure. They took their small, mainly ornamental dagger and
     cut first their left wrist to the bone, then their right ankle and
     finally plunged the sharp hooked point into their throat.

     Three out of the four Klingon officers who were in charge of the
     Federation men had been captured by the government army. Only
     Kiron had managed to escape and to report the events to his
     commander, before completing The Ritual.

     Rakholt needed now to get to his uncle's starship. There was still
     time to destroy the Star Fleet vessel and then take Kavayak by
     force. The general unrest was still in progress, keeping most of
     the security forces too busy on the planet to be bothered about
     what was going on in the skies above. If he could convince the
     Commander of the Rihansu battle-cruiser to destroy the government
     building containing the weapons control computer then the planet
     would be an easy conquest.

     Rakholt blended into the multitude of angry crowds and headed for
     his safe-place in an old, long deserted, genetic lab. It was, in
     fact, the very same lab in which he had been 'created'. Before
     escaping the advancing security forces, he had managed to obtain a
     portable transmitter. Unobtrusively he slipped from the street
     into the old and cracked crystal dome. The once proud sign
     announcing. "Procreation Centre" was chipped and hung so crookedly
     that it partially obstructed the old entrance. Rakholt slipped
     silently past the sign and quickly went into a room at the end of
     the corridor, passing, en route, the once pristine labs. Now these
     rooms contained dusty and dirty equipment, loosely hanging plastic
     tubing and a few outdated, discarded incubation cribs.

     In his safe-room there were only the bare essentials; a chair, a
     desk and a cot. He set the transmitter on the desk. After a number
     of failed attempts, Rakholt at last managed to get through to the
     Rihansu ship, and convince the communications officer to allow him
     to speak to the Commander.

     After clarifying the situation on Kavayak and his further plans,
     Rakholt waited for tr'Aihan's answer. It was some time in coming.
     The silence seemed to stretch into an eternity and consequently
     stretched Rakholt's nerves to breaking point. At last tr'Aihan's
     voice crackled through the small transmitter.

     "You have failed." then silence again.

     "But tr'Strek I have..."

     "Do not call me that! You have not proven to me to have the honour
     to be called 'a Son of my Brother'. You are not even full
     Rihansu!" There was such disgust in the last pronouncement that
     Rakholt recoiled involuntarily.

     "Nevertheless, my brother, your father, obviously believed that I
     should consider you as my kin and come to your aid. Therefore,
     mnhei'sahe(6) dictates that it will be so. Prepare for beam-up to
     Kklaha. Then, from here we will deal with this planet as I see
     fit. You will at all times follow my orders. Is that clear?"

     Rakholt bristled at the haughty and arrogant tone, but according
     to mnhei'sahe he had to show respect and obey his father's brother
     - and at the moment it seemed expedient he do so - for the time
     being anyway.

     "Yes, Rekkhai(7)."

     "Good."

     A few moments later he felt a totally new sensation as his body
     dissolved into its component parts and almost immediately
     rematerialised on a starship orbiting the planet several thousand
     kilometres above its surface.

     It seemed strange to Rakholt to be among so many other Rihansu.
     Only Rihansu. No others. Almost instantly, however, he saw that
     there were indeed subtle differences between these Rihansu and
     himself. Their ears were slightly more pointed, the facial
     structure was generally more angular and most were taller then he.
     Suddenly Rakholt felt inadequate, and he wanted even more to prove
     himself to be a true Rihansu.

     They arrived on the bridge of the ship. It seemed crowded and
     cramped, but a quiet efficiency was prevalent. tr'Aihan sat in the
     command seat at the centre of the bridge. As they entered he
     slowly swivelled the seat to face the newcomer. tr'Aihan regarded
     Rakholt, flanked by the two guards who had accompanied him from
     the transporter-room, for a long moment. Rakholt felt uneasy
     underneath that steady gaze. He felt stripped down to his very
     soul. He also noted the strong resemblance to his father. And the
     commander was aware that, even if not fully Rihansu, this young
     man was definitely the son of his late brother.

     The story that Rakholt told him of his brother's escape from
     Ch'Rihan to finally end on Kavayak did not ring true. He suspected
     that his brother was more likely to have been exiled to this
     planet by the Imperial court when he did not choose honourable
     death. But then his brother had been innocent of the charges
     brought against him and hoped, unreasonably, to prove his
     innocence. That was why he, tr'Aihan, never publicly denounced his
     brother and was now patrolling these outreaches of the Neutral
     Zone.

     Now the offspring of his brother stood before him. 'No, not
     offspring - a genetic mutant', he reminded himself. Nevertheless,
     a part of his brother. He beckoned for Rakholt to approach. As
     Rakholt came closer he addressed the Commander.

     "If we want to do anything, we have to act with speed before the
     K'S'vaits can use their weapons."

     tr'Aihan snorted disdainfully. "We monitored their feeble attempt
     to use this so-called weapon on the Enterprise," and he indicated
     for Rakholt to look at the main screen.

     There, in an orbit higher than theirs and the other smaller ships
     dotted round the planet, was the Enterprise. Relative to the other
     ships, her size dominated the space near Kavayak. Rakholt gasped.
     He had never imagined that a starship could be so large and, he
     had to admit, so beautiful.

     "Is Kklaha as big as that? Can you destroy it?" he asked.

     It was not the right question to ask he saw as soon as the words
     had left his lips. tr'Aihan's expression hardened. "Size is not an
     issue! In any battleship it is the Commander, crew, weapons,
     manoeuvrability and speed that count. You have a lot to learn," he
     said not hiding his contempt. He swivelled round again, turning
     his back on the young Rakholt who was incensed with this
     contemptuous treatment. tr'Aihan was either unaware of the younger
     man's mounting anger or chose to ignore it, and continued in an
     ostentatious tone: "But do not under-estimate the commander of
     that Federation ship, nor for that matter his Vulcan first
     officer. Both are wanted by the Empire to stand trial and
     subsequent punishment for the many wrongs they have perpetrated
     against Ch'Rihan. As such they are wanted alive!" He turned to
     face Rakholt again and asked: "You said that they are in dire need
     of dilithuim crystals?"

     "Yes."

     "Hmmm...yet they broke their last orbit to assume a new one..."

     He turned to face his communications officer.

     "tr'Eihal, get me someone in charge on that planet and shield the
     communications from the Enterprise".

     "Yes Khre'riov (8)."

     "Why don't you blow up the weapons control systems?" enquired
     Rakholt in a worried tone.

     Patiently tr'Aihan explained: "That would bring the Enterprise
     running, and I am not ready for her yet. Those weapons did not
     seem to cause any damage. Probably they have been inactivated
     during all that mayhem you described. Threats and subsequent
     action will be more effective in this case."

     "Khre'riov ,I have someone from the planet."

     "Engage communication view."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Footnotes and explanations

Next chapter.


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Subject: Re: IDIC-PLANET - A TOS STORY
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                                 IDIC-PLANET

                        Copyright Marketa J. Zvelebil

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

                                 CHAPTER 20

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

     K'L'trok looked in absolute shock and incredulity at K'Fron, who
     himself did not understand what had just occurred. All the data
     displayed on the control computer, to which only he and a few
     select others had access, indicated that fully charged
     disrupter-beams had been emitted and had contacted their target.
     Subsequent readings showed the total destruction of the target
     verified by it's disappearance from the satellite-controlled
     panel. Yet, there was the Federation commander's face smiling at
     them from the communications-screen. 'How could that be?
     Unless...that communication had been a recording. That must be
     it!' he concluded.

     "It must be an earlier recording," he stated facing K'L'trok.

     For a moment K'L'trok's hopes raised as he considered this
     possibility, then he examined the communication control panel and
     shook his head from side to side. "No, the transmission was real.
     Look! It's ended now. Your weapons have failed!"

     "That is not possible!" hissed K'Fron as he got up and went to
     communications. He pushed K'L'trok aside none too gently. "I will
     contact the installations and prove to you that the weapons have
     fired. Maybe the Star Fleet ship has extra shielding."

     Swiftly he entered the code in for Installation A. It did not take
     long to verify that indead the weapon had fired, but only at 80%
     intensity, as the emitter had not been fully charged prior to the
     order to fire had been recieved from the command-center.

     K'Fron gave an "I told you so" look to K'L'trok as he keyed in the
     code for the second installation It took some time before this
     call was answered, and it was a panicked voice that replied.
     Before K'Fron could ask his questions the disembodied voice told
     him the unpleasent news.

     "Sir, Our security has been breached while we were fighting of the
     'Rakholtians' and now the ballistics computer is not working
     properly. When it received the order to fire nothing happened. Not
     exactly nothing, but the beam was not emitted."

     "So what did happen?" K'Fron asked impatiently.

     "Uhm...well..a message appeared."

     "What message and in what language?"

     "In K'S'vaithese."

     "And the message" K'Fron's anger increased by the second.

     "The message?"

     "Yes, the message!"

     "It says - 'Universal law: All actions have equal and opposite
     reactions. Including violent ones - leading to chaos.'"

     "What?"

     "That is the message, Sir."

     "Have you found out yet where the damage is?"

     There was a prolonged silence interspersed with some muted
     whispering.

     "We are checking, Sir. There seems to be nothing obviously wrong
     or out of place. None of the diagnostic programs show anything
     wrong. We are running them again. Sir, it's like nothing we have
     seen before! The computer acts as if it were alive."

     "What about the back-up system?"

     There was a pained sigh and: "It is similarly affected, Sir."

     K'Fron felt his blood boiling. 'How could anyone penetrate their
     safe-guards, let alone destroy his beloved weapons?' The security
     and strength of the whole planet was compromised. Someone would
     pay dearly for this, before he would be made accountable as he
     knew would happen. Failure by the security chief was not
     tolerated.

     He was aware that K'L'trok was watching him, and not with
     sympathy. There was no love lost between them and K'L'trok knew
     that K'Fron would at the very least lose his position for this
     failure.

     "We have to apprise the council immediately of this dangerous
     situation. One weapon totally ineffective and the Federation ship
     out of range of the other. And even then it seems to be able to
     withstand an attack." K'L'trok announced.

     K'Fron was about to reply scathingly when the communications board
     beeped and the voice of K'L'trok's secretary, now back in his own
     office - although it was in total disarray, demanded their
     attention.

     "Yes, what is it?" K'L'trok snapped.

     "The Romulan commander demands to speak to someone in charge. I am
     informed by Council-Chairman that you will deal with him. I am
     also to inform you and Officer K'Fron that the council will
     convene in 15 b'teits in safe-room two."

     "Very well, we will be there. Put the Romulan on."

     K'L'trok was not pleased with this added complication. Although,
     K'Fron's failure to destroy the Federation ship and his failure to
     guard the weapon in the first place would be the main focus of the
     president and council, his own incapability to obtain humans would
     not go unnoticed. He had to handle this new situation more
     carefully.

     His sombre thoughts were interrupted by the Romulan Commander's
     gratingly harsh demand, reverberating off the crystalline walls.

     "We demand your immediate surrender to the Rihansu Imperial Force.
     You have and are committing acts of aggression against the
     Rihansu, which is an act of war." he said while pointing at
     Rakholt. "If you do not wish to be destroyed surrender now."

     K'Fron jumped up and started to demand the return of Rakholt when
     K'L'trok bid him to silence. K'Fron obliged grudgingly. This was
     after all, at least initially, K'L'trok's business. They had to be
     careful when dealing with the Romulans. 'But why was this Romulan
     so openly hostile?'

     "I cannot surrender Kavayak - that is simply not in my power.
     Allow me to call a council meeting." K'L'trok asked politely,
     although he knew that, this ship at least, they could destroy
     easily. 'Was the commander not aware of this?' Surely Rakholt
     would have informed him of that. Or was the Romulan somehow
     responsible for the destruction of one weapon? But his ship was
     now within the area covered by the functioning weapon.' K'L'trok
     did not understand. He never considered that the Rihansu commander
     might have monitored their attempt to destroy the Enterprise.
     Ordinarily, the disrupter beams were not detected by conventional
     scanning systems. This made the weapon seem even more powerful as
     the element of total surprise added to the intemidation of their
     enemies. But K'Fron, chief of security, realised that somehow the
     Romulans must have witnessed their earlier failure and therefore
     believed that Kavayak was unprotected.

     "You are granted two Rihansu time units, which I am told are
     equivalent to 3.5 of your time measurements called b'fads. If we
     do not receive confirmation of your surrender by that time - I
     will destroy your city. And...," tr'Aihan paused for effect, " do
     not expect any help from Star Fleet for the Captain of the
     Enterprise has covertly approved our benevolent intervention. They
     may be bound by their laws not to intervene with any internal
     affairs, but they are understandably annoyed at your attempt to
     obliterate them ...and so...' " tr'Aihan smiled, all innocence and
     gestured in an apologetic manner, "...it is up to me to punish you
     for acts of violence and aggression against Rihansu, Klingon and
     even Federation persons." he ended in a voice as cold as space.

     K'L'trok knew very little of Federation laws, but from what he had
     heard from other ships he was aware that Star Fleet did, in actual
     fact, intervene in internal affairs, even if it was by not taking
     any action. After all, wasn't placing a planet on interdict status
     intervention in itself? However, he was in no doubt that Captain
     Kirk wished them ill after their attack. However, he tried to look
     grateful and scared as he promised the commander an answer in less
     then the imposed time limit.

     After the communication ended, both K'S'vaits hurried through the
     extensively damaged dome to meet with the council. As they passed
     open spaces they could discern the occasional shouts of continuing
     pockets of unrest, often followed by the high-pitched sound of a
     hand-held disrupter. 'Things were under control.' thought K'Fron
     as he heard another whine characteristic of the military
     disrupter.

     ---

     "You have failed badly, K'Fron." the president spoke but
     surprisingly there was no anger in his voice. K'Fron looked at him
     in astonishment. "But you will remain, at least for now, Chief of
     security. Do not let us down again."

     "I won't, my Lord." K'Fron said in great relief and vowed silently
     to always be loyal to this president The President was aware that
     now K'Fron was in his debt for ever. He could have had him
     executed. Instead he had granted him absolution. K'Fron would be
     useful later. He then turned his concentration on K'L'trok.

     "This Romulan commander cannot be aware of our agreement with the
     Empire. As K'Trek has outlined earlier, not every one in the
     Imperial force has knowledge about our special relationship with
     the Imperial council."

     K'Trek, chief of extra-planetary information, added: "Very few on
     Ch'Rihan actually know about our trade/development agreement. Thus
     it is not surprising that a lowly commander would be uninformed."

     "Can we safely destroy this threat?" asked the President.

     "K'Fron is of the opinion that the Rihansu are under the
     impression that we cannot harm them?" K'Trek looked inquiringly at
     K'Fron who turned his head in assent, then continued: " It would,
     perhaps be more wise to show them what we can do. Although a
     number of ships have fled, there is currently an Orion-pirate ship
     still in orbit. If we destroy that, we will have demonstrated our
     force to both the Federation ship and the Rihansu. The Federation
     commander should not be too upset at the destruction of a pirate
     ship. If he is, we can always justify it with statements such as
     the Orions caused us harm before and had to be stopped. Anyway
     what can Star Fleet do to us? Put us on interdict status again? It
     didn't work before?" K'Trek sat back satisfied.

     "Very well. K'Fron, let K'L'trok communicate our intent to that
     Romulan commander and then promptly clean our space of that Orion
     pirate. K'L'trok, let the commander know how benevolent we are to
     allow him to leave and to give him Rakholt as a sign of good
     will."

     "Yes, my Lord." both K'Fron and K'L'trok said.

     "What about the Star Fleet vessel?" asked K'Fron. He was worried
     about this ship and its Captain.

     "They will probably leave as soon as the Romulan leaves. There is
     nothing to worry about!" the President dismissed the issue with a
     wave of his hand. "This session is closed. Go! Get rid of the
     Romulans."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Footnotes and explanations

Next chapter.


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Subject: Re: IDIC-PLANET - A TOS STORY
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                                 IDIC-PLANET

                        Copyright Marketa J. Zvelebil

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

                                 CHAPTER 21

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

     Spock got up from his lkz'fru(9) and prepared to make K'kali, the
     special Vulcan drink that was both refreshing and soothing. His
     door-chime sounded.

     "Come in T'Charu."

     He had called her earlier and asked her to come to his cabin.

     When she entered he offered her the drink. They drank for a while
     in companionable silence, then discussed her past and future.
     Spock told her about Vulcan; its history, culture and some of the
     behaviour that she would be expected, at her age, to abide by.

     Spock got up to pour them more K'kali.

     "T'Kahr(10), may I ask a question?"

     "If you call me T'Kahr, then it is my role to answer any questions
     you may have." he said seriously.

     "Can you not teach me the mental techniques that every Vulcan
     child my age already knows?"

     Spock continued with the elaborate preparation of the K'kali.
     Under normal circumstance he could teach, as could any Vulcan
     adult, the rudimentary mental controls. At the moment he felt an
     unusually strong aversion to enter into any mental contact, and
     mental contact would be necessary to teach even the most
     elementary technique.

     As he refilled T'Charu's glass, he saw that she was waiting
     patiently for an answer. She had already learned, from her few
     conversations with Spock, that an answer to what seemed to her a
     simple question could occasionally be long in coming. But an
     answer she would always receive.

     "You will soon be on Vulcan, where a qualified master is being
     arranged for you. It is best that you come with a fresh mind."
     Spock answered at last and continued: "Now, may I ask you a
     question, T'Charu?"

     "Yes of course," surprised.

     "What was your mother's full Vulcan name?"

     "Her name was T'Peal-krhst'nk'krakroy'ththaya." she answered the
     true-Vulcan name rolling off her tongue with ease.

     Spock went into deep thought for a moment, then: "You are family,
     T'Charu."

     "What?" She gasped, all Vulcan calm and decorum forgotten.

     Not quite a smile graced Spock's lips. He knew the pain that
     T'Charu was suffering from the violent loss of all the family she
     had ever known. Even if Doctor McCoy had not informed him of this
     after his examination of T'Charu, Spock was acutely aware of her
     very real anguish. It had been passed to him in that one brief
     unexpected contact of their minds on Kavayak.

     "Yes. T'Peal was the daughter of the sister of my father's uncle's
     son. She went missing 13 years ago during her research on the
     T'Pau along with five other Vulcan scientists."

     "Mother told me that their ship had been attacked. She and one
     other survived. They were found by a trader who was on his way to
     Kavayak and took both mother and Stark with him. During the voyage
     Stark died from his injuries, but mother arrived and was left on
     Kavayak. She accepted her situation and married father, although
     initially she had tried to get a message to Vulcan to let her
     family know. However, no one was prepared to send a message that
     would implicate them in breaking a Star Fleet directive." T'Charu
     looked at Spock. "If I have family, will I still be with your
     parents?" she asked.

     "Do you wish it so?"

     "Yes."

     "My parents are your family. It is for the best if you stay with
     them rather than any of the other family members. Your mother's
     parents are both dead and her brother is off-world, too young and
     unmarried."

     T'Charu digested this, then: "So you are my...?"

     "In Vulcan I am th'alkar."

     When T'Charu said that she was unfamiliar with the term Spock
     searched for the equivalent expression in Federation basic but
     found none that was suitable. No single locution existed in that
     tongue that would describe both the genealogical distance and the
     closeness in Vulcan families which was implied by the one single
     Vulcan word.

     He steepled his fingers in his characteristic gesture and said:
     "Consider me as your 'older-uncle/brother', as my parents will
     become legal parents from 'grandparents/Aunt-Uncle'."

     T'Charu's felt a bit dizzy at this explanation.

     "What do I call you?" she said at last.

     "You may call me either Spock, th'atlkar Spock, or just th'alkar
     if you wish."

     "Every one calls you Spock or Mr. Spock. I will call you
     th'atth'alkar -my th'alkar."

     Spock nearly smiled. T'Charu did not seem to realize that the
     possessive pronoun was already implied by the original Vulcan
     word. T'Charu had just duplicated it - 'my-my
     older-uncle/brother'. Spock was tempted not to correct her as he
     found that he, illogically, appreciated that expression.

     "Th'atth'alkar is unnecessary, th'akum."

     "Unnecessary? Th'akum?" The dark eyes demanded answers.

     Patiently Spock explained the possessive pronoun inherent in such
     words describing family. "Th'akum means something like younger
     niece/sister," he ended.

     "I understand, th'alkar."

     "Good. Have you finished your K'kali?"

     Yes, th'alkar," carefully handing the beautiful Vulcan glass back
     to Spock.

     "Very well. I must return to the bridge." Spock said as he folded
     his black meditation-robe away. "You may stay here if you wish."

     "May I use your screen to read the writings you have recommended?"

     "You may. I must go now."

     "See you later, th'alkar," T'Charu inclined her head politely, as
     she had been taught at home.

     Spock's eyebrow ascended at that particular human expression mixed
     with the more formal Vulcan term. 'It will be good when T'Charu
     left the Enterprise for a Vulcan environment,' he thought as he
     made his way to the bridge. 'Though I shall miss her.' he realised
     wryly, with some surprise at the feeling of affection that had
     developed so rapidly for this strange young child.

     ---

     Uhura hurried down the corridor after being ordered to stand down
     from active duty for the next two hours. "The calm before the
     storm." the Captain had said and insisted that all crew members
     who had been on duty well over their normal shift take at least
     two hours rest. "But Sulu..." Uhura had dared to voice her
     objections at the loss of time in which something could be done.
     Kirk had put his hand on her shoulder and guided her towards the
     lift saying: "Uhura, you yourself have relayed to me that
     Kavayak's council will not talk to me before 0.98 hours
     ships-time. I cannot go charging in, even after they tried to
     shoot us out of existence, to take over the planet, or blow them
     all up, can I? I will reason with them first." He had not
     specified what 'reasoning' he had in mind and Uhura dared not ask.
     At least some of the trader-ships had left, taking courage from
     the fact that the Enterprise managed to leave orbit undamaged. The
     Captain had tried to provide protection to each ship leaving
     orbit.

     She entered the hairdresser, and was greeted with great enthusiasm
     by the Taikan barber. The Taikani excelled in this profession,
     partly due to having four arms, and an artistic flair very suited
     to creating galaxy-renowned hairstyles.

     SaTali led her to a suitable chair while trying to persuade had to
     try the new extra-gentle method for perming hair: "Selective
     partial transportation, change of template and back again - curly,
     straight, wavy anything you want..." he tempted her.

     "Not today, SaTali. Another time maybe. Just a wash, a cut and a
     relaxing thermal scalp massage, " Uhura's mouth nearly watered
     with the anticipation of that particular treat. She always relaxed
     totally with the thermal massage.

     Deftly SaTali cut her dark hair into her usual style. Then he
     washed her hair, manually, massaging the scalp tenderly. That was
     what made him so special - no automated hair washes; SaTali cut
     and washed personally. When he finished he led her to the massage
     unit.

     She settled in fully prepared to relax and let all the stress of
     the last few days flow away. After a few minutes Uhura realized
     that this time she would not enjoy the massage as usual. Worry
     about how they were going to impose a ban on the selling of
     Kavayak's weapon-technology and the buying of sentient beings
     occupied her mind. She felt it was her duty to come up with
     something that may add to a satisfactory solution. Then they could
     leave for Vulcan and help Sulu. 'Would they be able to help Sulu
     on Vulcan? ' The last time the method was tried on a Star Fleet
     officer, there had been sabotage and the officer had died as a
     result(1). But that was unlikely to happen again. Since then the
     techniques had been used on other humans. But could the
     regeneration techniques work after Sulu had been stasis for so
     long? Uhura shook herself mentally. McCoy would never allow Hikaru
     to die. He always came up with miraculous cures when needed. He
     had saved them already so many times, when everyone was affected
     by the many unknown diseases that unexplored space and planets
     could plague them with. He also managed to put back together, so
     many who had been terribly wounded in an accident or attack, both
     by using his considerable skills and knowledge, and with the
     stubbornness that came of a lifetime spent fighting his biggest
     enemy, death. 'Leonard will not allow death to win...' Uhura
     thought as her eyelids closed and she drifted into a light sleep.

     "Lieutenant Uhura to the bridge, please. To the bridge
     immediately."

     The Captain's voice sliced through her half-asleep state of mind.
     She came to with a start. The massage unit had long been removed.
     She looked at her wrist chrono-comp. "Oh, no!" she gasped, she was
     already twenty minutes late. Uhura jumped up and with a "pay you
     later" to SaTali rushed to the bridge.

     ---

     When he had sent off all personnel in need of rest, James Kirk
     settled into his seat to think. The bridge was unusually quiet.
     The replacement crew, not used to working alone with the Captain
     in command, were too tense to indulge in idle chatter. Kirk's
     thoughts were occupied with the problem of Kavayak and the Romulan
     battle cruiser. He had just finished talking to Scotty about the
     possibility of using 'persuasion' to enforce his arguments with
     the K'S'vaits if necessary. Scotty had suggested that they could
     target one of the badly damaged buildings near the governmental
     dome. He thought that with some small changes to the phaser beams
     he could vaporize out of existence only non-biological matter.
     "Just a wee calculation, and we can discern beasties from stones -
     it'll be done, Captain, ha' no fear."

     The Captain hoped that Scotty would finish his 'wee' calculation
     and 'wee' adjustments in time.

     A sudden light tap on his shoulder brought him out of his
     ruminations.

     "Shouldn't you be resting?" McCoy was standing in his usual spot,
     behind and slightly left of the conn.

     "I am, Bones. Or I was."

     "Hrmph!" 'Since when does a Captain rest on the bridge,' he
     thought.

     "And you, Doctor, have you taken time off to recover from your
     gallivanting all over Kavayak?"

     "I have patients to look after."

     "And I have a ship to took after. Anyway you have capable staff
     who can do some of your work, you know."

     "And you don't?" McCoy said pointedly.

     "Spock needed the rest more than I, Bones," Jim said quietly, "I'm
     worried about him."

     "Well, he does seem a bit greener than usual..."

     "Bones!?!" Kirk swivelled the chair slightly to face the doctor.
     'What's that supposed to mean?' written all over his face.

     McCoy shrugged and smiled. "I have noticed his somewhat erratic
     behaviour, but don't you worry, Jim, I am keeping a scanner on
     Spock. And...." he continued, putting on his best professional
     expression," I am also keeping an eye on you, Jimmy-boy. After we
     are on our way to lovely Vulcan, I want you down in Sickbay for
     some tests. Pronto. That is a medical order, Captain."

     "Okay, okay..." Kirk raised his hands in a 'giving-up' gesture. He
     Paused and his face took on a mock 'concerned' expression. "Did I
     just hear you say 'lovely Vulcan'? Maybe you should undergo a
     medical yourself, Bones." He jabbed a finger at McCoy's chest.

     "Lovely Vulcan, Jim. Beautiful Vulcan. I just spoke to Daniel
     Corrigan. Daniel assures me that their much improved
     regen-treatment will have Sulu up and about within three weeks.
     The best news is that unlike the earlier treatment no mind-meld is
     necessary to bring the patient back, as the brain is encouraged to
     go on working. They induce periods of mental rest and activity.
     The patient thinks he is normally active - it's like a vivid
     dream. But when the patient is released from treatment he can't
     remember anything about it. Daniel said that this method was
     fool-proof on non-telepathic beings. With Vulcans the mind-meld is
     still used." McCoy explained in a voice filled with hope while
     rocking to and fro on the balls of his feet.

     "That is great news indeed." Kirk smiled. "Have you told Chekov?"

     "Yep - I stopped at his cabin on my way here, but he wasn't there.
     I found him in Sulu's quarters tending to Hikaru's botanical
     jungle. He had such a glum face too. When I told him he cheered up
     somewhat, but then mumbled something about 'not counting the
     chickens before the eggs were hatched', and informed me that it
     was an old Russian proverb best not forgotten."

     "We'll all be pleased to have Sulu back," Jim said as the lift
     doors opened and Spock, Chekov and Offer stepped out.

     When they were about to take up their stations, Kirk stopped them
     saying: "I propose we speak to Kavayak's council from the briefing
     room not the bridge. Chekov, you have the conn. Mr. Offer, Spock,
     Bones come with me. Uhura page Mr. Scott and ask him to join us,
     if he's finished with the adjustments."

     Spock's eyebrow rose. 'Adjustments?' he tought.

     "Yes Captain," said a voice that was not Uhura's. Jim looked
     round. Uhura was not on the bridge yet. Her replacement was
     calling Scotty.

     'First can't get them off the bridge then can't get them back,'
     Kirk thought irately as he paged Uhura himself.

     The Captain was about to turn from the main viewer towards the
     lift, when a bright flash illuminated their main screen, followed
     by a total darkness where once a ship had occupied a small
     fraction of space.

     "That was the Orion cruiser, sir." gasped Uhura who moments ago
     had relieved her replacement, apologetic for being so late.

     "Uhura, place a call to that council, now! Mr. Chekov I want you
     to precision-target the phasers on these coordinates," ordered
     Kirk giving him a computer-disk. "Uhura, join us in the briefing
     room." Kirk said striding off the bridge angrily.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Footnotes and explanations

Next chapter.


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From: marketa@kestrel.ludwig.ucl.ac.uk (Marketa Zvelebil)
Subject: Re: IDIC-PLANET - A TOS STORY
Sender: news@ucl.ac.uk (Usenet News System)
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Date: Mon, 1 Apr 1996 10:52:27 GMT
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                                 IDIC-PLANET

                        Copyright Marketa J. Zvelebil

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

                                 CHAPTER 22

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

     tr'Aihan was not satisfied. These K'S' vaits were not going to
     give in easily. Did they not realize that a starship like his
     could cause considerable damage? Under any other circumstances he
     would give them a small demonstration, but there was the
     Enterprise to consider. Rakholt had admitted that the Star Fleet
     people could have obtained crystals while being held in one of the
     mines. As tr'Aihan looked at the Enterprise, serenely keeping
     orbit, her running lights blazing. He suspected that indeed the
     they had helped themselves to dilithium. As he would have done in
     a similar situation. The Enterprise did not behave like a ship
     trying to conserve her last vestiges of energy.

     He looked back at the face of the K'S'vait who had just announced
     that if he did not start leaving orbit immediately he would get a
     first-hand demonstration of what could happen to his ship.

     "Focus your viewers on to the Orion ship orbiting close to you,"
     the K'S'vait was saying, eyes changing colour again.

     'Creatures whose eyes keep changing colour all the time are not to
     be trusted,' thought tr'Aihan with disgust. He felt Rakholt
     fidgeting nervously behind his command chair. tr'Aihan glanced at
     the screen which now showed the Orion ship, peacefully keeping
     their orbit close company. Too close for tr'Aihan's liking. It was
     a relatively large starship. One of the OR-5A/B class tr'Aihan
     recognised. A ship that was used equally well both as a transport
     of mainly live cargo and in battle situations. His science officer
     had informed him earlier, after a scan of all the ships in the
     vicinity, that its cargo-hold was full of humanoid beings.
     tr'Aihan had shuddered at the thought of the dishonour in being
     sold like some flock of hlai(11).

     As he glanced at the ship trying to construct an appropriate
     answer to the K'S'vait's threats, the Orion ship was suddenly
     bathed in iridescent radiation, then disappeared, seemingly
     without as much as causing a ripple in the surrounding space.
     However the energy released from all the disintegrated matter,
     both alive and dead, expanded in all directions with frightening
     intensity. The Kklaha, so close to the destroyed ship, was caught
     in the full force of the onslaught.

     Space rippled all around them. On the ship itself all electronic
     devices went berserk causing computer overload and damage to some
     of the precision instruments. The smell of burning reached
     tr'Aihan. One of his officers was nursing a burned hand, smoke
     coming out of the ballistics-control board.

     "Khre'Riov, we have no control of our weapons." he managed to say
     in a steady voice, as deeply green blood oozed from his wounded
     hands.

     "Report to healer tr'Kel and get t'Lai to replace you," snapped
     tr'Aihan. His officer obeyed immediately.

     A sound like something between a cough and a hiccup came from the
     communications channel. tr'Aihan looked at the K'S'vait who seemed
     to be laughing. The commander's blood boiled.

     "How dare you attack a ship of the Imperial force?" he demanded
     furiously.

     "We did not attack you at all," K'L'trok smiled. "We merely
     cleaned up our space of some rubbish. You just happened to be too
     close. Now, I suggest that you leave...before we decid to do more
     extensive cleansing."

     "The Empire will not tolerate this, we..."

     "Before you make any more threats I suggest that you contact
     senator Hiran and ask him about documents 65D/G regarding trade
     and development of planets with the Praetor's most favoured
     status. Look under your equivalent letter 'K'." said K'L'trok with
     a sinister look. "But to demonstrate to you that we do not 'carry
     acts of aggression' against Romulan citizens, you are free to
     leave. With the Romulan Rakholt. Salutations." K'L'trok ended the
     communication.

     K'L'trok turned towards the screens that tracked all orbiting
     ships via the hundreds of satellites. "Now we wait," he said to
     K'Fron, settling somewhat uneasily into a seat.

     ---

     There was a deadly silence on the bridge of the Kklaha. Even the
     occasional spluttering of an overloaded control board had ceased.
     Everyone waited to see what the Commander would do. No one who had
     ever had the audacity to speak to him in such a tone, and damage
     his ship, had lived for long.

     Suddenly the communications demanded attention. "Khre'riov, it is
     the Enterprise. They are enquiring if we need assistance."
     tr'Eihal informed his commander tentatively.

     "Tell them we are undamaged and require no assistance. Inform them
     also that we have what we came for and are preparing to leave
     orbit. And that, by the way, the Orion ship was full of humanoid
     cargo," he smiled thinly as he imagined the reaction that
     particular reminder (he was sure that the Enterprise had done
     their own scan) would cause the Captain. tr'Aihan had overcome the
     shock of the latter part of what the K'S'vait had told him. He
     knew very well what the Praetor's 'most favoured' status meant to
     a planet. He was angry that the list of these planets was secret
     and not available to every starship commander in the imperial
     force. Good commanders had lost their commands because they were
     ignorant of the Praetor's favoured planets.

     He felt dismay intermingled with relief from his officers, when he
     announced that they were going to leave orbit. No glory for them
     this time. At least there would be other occasions when they would
     have honour and success. His crew were good noble Rihansu who had
     chosen to serve with him because of Mnhei'Sahe. Not one of his
     officers were assigned to him. All had chosen to come to his ship
     because of loyalty to his House and Name.

     'Name?! Rakholt, the cause of all this mess. ' tr' Aihan turned
     his attention to Rakholt, who had not said a word or made a single
     movement since the attack. He saw that Rakholt was bleeding from a
     cut above his eye. 'Green blood, at least!' He discerned shock,
     disappointment and despair in the young man's eye, but also quiet
     acceptance of what ever was to befall him now.

     "Rakholt," he said, his expression impenetrable. The young man
     stiffened to attention. "You wish to become Rihansu?" asked
     tr'Aihan taking pity on this youngster - although he could not say
     why.

     "Yes, Khre'Riov," was the quiet but determined answer.

     "You know the meaning of Mnhei-Sahe?"

     "Yes, Khre'Riov."

     "And what would Mnhei-Sahe require of you now?"

     "That I take responsibility for all that happened, as it was at my
     bidding and promises that you came here. To atone, I will take my
     life. Join my followers and take The Ritual."

     'What Ritual?' thought tr'Aihan intrigued but decided that now was
     not the time to ask. "You will indeed atone. To me. But I do not
     wish that you take you life."

     "Khre'Riov?" there was a glint of hope mixed with apprehension in
     his eyes.

     "No. You will become a member of this ship's crew. You will start
     at the lowest level. I expect you to learn quickly. If you prove
     your worth you may be promoted. Do you take that responsibility
     and honour?" tr'Aihan's gaze was unwavering.

     "Yes, Khre'Riov." Rakholt looked down, to hide his relief.

     "You do understand that it will not be easy. You are not to regard
     yourself as related to me. You will not be accepted as a Rihansu
     by many for a long time. Do you still wish to follow this path?"

     Rakholt's eyes met the Commander's again. Although there was a
     flicker of emotion across his face when tr'Aihan denied him the
     family connection, he resolutely answered in the affirmative. He
     would yet show his worthiness to the brother of his father.

     "Good. Then you will accompany t'Leah who will take you to you
     first task and superior officer." tr'Aihan waved both Rakholt and
     the security guards off the bridge.

     "We are ready to leave orbit, Khre'Riov."

     "Very well. Set course to Ch'Rihan. We have business there."
     tr'Aihan said, intent on not only getting his ship repaired but
     also examining the 'most-favoured' status list.

     ---

     Neither, K'L'trok or K'Fron had the pleasure of witnessing the
     Romulan departure. The screens showing this were unattended. The
     departure was only logged into the computer. Both K'S'vaits were
     called away to an emergency meeting almost immediately after the
     disintegrated Orion ship had disappeared from the screen, it's
     orbital path logged as unoccupied. The Captain of the Enterprise
     was threatening them - and this time they had no weapons only
     words.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Footnotes and explanations

Next chapter.


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From: marketa@kestrel.ludwig.ucl.ac.uk (Marketa Zvelebil)
Subject: Re: IDIC-PLANET - A TOS STORY
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                                 IDIC-PLANET

                        Copyright Marketa J. Zvelebil

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

                                 CHAPTER 23

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

     The atmosphere in the briefing room was tense and angry. McCoy
     barely kept his outrage in check when he heard that not only a
     ship's complement of Orions had been destroyed, but an entire
     cargo hold of other beings as well. All those people slaughtered
     for no reason what so ever. 'If Jim was is going to target some of
     those dammed K'S'vaits then I'll push the buttion!' he thought
     angrily until he realized what he was actually considering.
     Appalled, he calmed himself. 'Why do so-called intelligent beings
     keep killing each other?' and for a few seconds he envied the
     Vulcans.

     Captain Kirk and Mr. Scott exchanged a glance. Scotty nodded and
     formed an old fashioned 'OK' sign with his fingers. Kirk
     acknowledged with a slight nod. The mini-screens in front each one
     of them filled with a view of a domed room with a large
     rectangular table. On each side of the table sat four K'S'vaits,
     all vastly different in their physical forms. At the head of the
     table sat the largest K'S'vait that Kirk had seen. It was an
     imposing figure. 'That must be the President.' Flashed through
     Kirk's mind.

     Spock leaned over to him and explained, sotto voce, that the
     President was always of pure K'S'vait blood. 'So this is what
     those people looked like before all this enforced so-called IDIC
     came into being. Impressive and ironical,' thought Jim.

     "You want to speak to us, Captain? And you threaten us. Why?" The
     imposingly deep voice of the president underlined the computerized
     translation.

     Kirk sat up straight and said: "You have just destroyed a ship in
     orbit around you planet, killing over four hundred beings aboard.
     It was in Federation space, and not a threat to you . Why?" The
     Captain opened and did not allow any time for an answer before
     continuing: "You have attacked us, which is unacceptable. You deal
     in living intelligent beings, many of whom are Federation citizens
     who have been captured and enslaved. That too is unacceptable, and
     must be stopped. You sell very dangerous technology within the
     Federation to both Federation members and non-aligned worlds. That
     too must stop." Kirk said in a duranium-hard voice, looking
     directly at the President.

     There was a moment of silence. One of the other K'S'vaits started
     to say something but was interrupted by the President.

     "Let us take your grievances one by one," he said in a patronising
     voice.

     James Kirk tried to keep calm. He saw Scotty's complexion turn a
     darker shade of red. McCoy was near boiling point. Uhura was busy
     with keeping all the communication-channels and translations
     working smoothly, but even she had an angry frown on her face.
     Only Spock and, surprisingly, Lieutenant Offer, looked calm. That
     was not unexpected from Spock, but that the only expression on
     Offer's face was interest intrigued Kirk.

     The President's voice continued. "We had to destroy the Orion ship
     to protect our planet. We mourn the loss of life."

     Unfortunately Kirk could not dispute the fact that an Orion ship
     might be a threat to a planet.

     "Their weapons were not charged - how were they a threat to you?"
     asked Spock calmly.

     "The living cargo you refer to were, in fact, captured K'S'vaits.
     If we had allowed The Pirates to leave unpunished they would have
     returned. This was a preventative strike as much as a punitive
     measure. You as a military man, Captain, must understand that."

     "So you just kill your own people - if it's convenient." snapped
     McCoy.

     "Bones..." Jim warned, although he agreed with the doctor's
     sympathies.

     The President did not deign to reply to the outburst. He ignored
     it and continued to answer Kirk's next accusation, taking it for
     granted that they were satisfied with the explanation for the
     destruction of the Orion vessel. "As for attacking you...we
     apologise. That was a mistake on behalf of my former," and he
     stressed the word former, " extra-Kavayakian commerce officer. He
     will be punished for such an act of aggression."

     Almost immediately K'L'trok was hoisted from his seat and led away
     by two large security guards.

     'These people are totally illogical,' thought Jim, 'One moment
     they condone aggression, the next they punish someone for
     it...they will be hard to reason with.', he shook his head in
     disbelief.

     "Now let us address your misconception that we deal in living
     intelligent beings. We offer a choice to people to come and live
     on our planet. We invite them to come and practise the Vulcan
     concept of Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations at its
     fullest realization. The only beings we trade for are slaves,
     prisoners and war-captives. Beings who otherwise have no or much
     worse life than we can offer them here. We safe these people." The
     President stressed the last sentence and paused as if ovecome.
     Kirk wondered if the President actually believed all that. If so
     things were looking grimmer that before. The President continued
     in a less emotional fashion. " All newcomers are made aware of the
     rare dangers that can occur within our hospitals when producing
     offspring with other species. But all choose to take the risk and
     to add to the concept of IDIC. Your Vulcan officer should
     understand that and agree with it." The President invited Spock to
     comment.

     All through the President's speech Spock's eyebrow had been
     ascending as high as Vulcanly possible. Now he lowered it and
     steepled his finger in front of him, lightly tapping the tips of
     his index fingers against his chin.

     "First of all, the concept of Infinite Diversity in Infinite
     Combinations, although a central part of Surak's philosophy, is
     not a uniquely Vulcan creation. For example on earth in their 20th
     century, the scientist Albert Einstein stated that: 'The life of
     peaceful nations with reciprocal respect for one another and
     toleration of each other's differences was civilised and just.'
     The operative words, in this apt description of IDIC are Respect
     and Toleration of differences. Neither the destruction, nor
     artificial and forced creation, of differences is implied. Your
     way - the forced interbreeding, is not IDIC but against IDIC, and
     it is, in fact, tyrannical." Spock paused but was not yet finished
     and continued before anyone could speak. "On Ecobeta, their great
     philosopher, Davdks, stated some four thousand years ago that,
     'The pursuit of knowledge in toleration for those unlike us must
     be one of our highest ideals.' The celebration of Infinite
     Diversity in Infinite Combinations means just that. It does not
     indicate the Creation of Diversity. Neither does it imply the
     assimilation of different cultures. It simply means learning from
     one another and thus increasing knowledge and understanding. The
     awareness of C'thia, translating roughly as 'truth-reality' or if
     one prefers, logic, is the result, not the creation of chaos and
     tyranny." Spock ended in a almost perceptibly louder voice and a
     glint of angry impatience in his eyes. For him, a highly emotional
     state.

     Only Kirk and McCoy noticed, however. Both looked at him in
     surprise and some concern. The rest of the Enterprise people
     listened in fascination at his unusually lengthy explanation.
     Offer looked satisfied, since Spock quoted one of his favourite
     humans, Einstein, in relation to IDIC. When Kirk turned back to
     the K'S'vaits he saw that Spock's logical and, for him emotional,
     appeal had had no effect. Their expressions, if he read them
     correctly, looked extremely bored and their eyes were filled with
     incomprehension.

     The President spoke again: "As I said, the Vulcan agrees."

     There was an audible irate sigh originating from Spock himself.
     All looked at him in astonishment. Spock tried to hide his own
     surprise at this slip and loss of control.

     The President continued, unaware of anything untoward. "As to what
     we sell and to whom we sell it, that is our own business." He
     ended, implying that the whole matter was closed to any further
     discussion.

     Kirk returned his gaze to the council chamber. He leaned forward
     slightly as he spoke:. "As to what you sell and to whom being none
     of my business, that is true only in so far as it does not leave
     your planet. Any inter-planetary commerce is and must be regulated
     by the FCIPCF: Federation Council of Inter-Planetary Commerce and
     Finance. This is to safe guard worlds against extortion and
     illegal dealings in dangerous substances, under which your weapons
     technology is classifiable." He was actually surprised that the
     K'S'vaits had not tried to deny the trade in their weapons. "The
     matter of interbreeding too, ultimately, is your own business, but
     the buying of extra-planetary life is mine and it must stop. That
     also applies to luring ships into orbit and then targeting them
     with your weapons." Kirk said adamantly, his expression hardening
     further.

     "Just how do you propose to stop us, Captain?" a new K'S'vait
     voice said. "Place us on another interdict status?" it mocked.

     "That will, indeed, be one of my recommendations to Star Fleet.
     But this time I will recommend a total no-contact order due to the
     danger to approaching ships. Such an order will be controlled and
     the transgression thereof will not be tolerated. You will be cut
     off economically as well as culturally," he paused to let that
     sink in, then continued: "Nor will we tolerate other incursions
     into this Federation space by non-Federation aligned species,
     including Romulans." Again a short pause. "Unless, ofcourse, you
     agree to some changes and allow a party of Star Fleet officers
     from this ship to oversee that these changes proceed accordingly."
     Kirk did not allow his features to relax in the slightest.

     "We do not believe you can stop ships coming to us or stop them
     trading with us. You do not have such power." It was that same
     scornful voice again, a K'S'vait unknown to Kirk.

     The Captain looked at the President hoping that he would say
     something that could lead them towards an agreement. But the
     President sat in his chair, his large body and face totally
     immobile, his eyes half-closed. Kirk wondered whether he was
     listening at all.

     'So it comes to the show of force,' the Captain thought sadly. "To
     show you we mean business, I suggest you look out of your
     east-facing wall," he said and indicated for Uhura to cut off the
     audio channels but to keep the visual ones. He saw that the
     K'S'vait did indeed gather to look out of the east-facing part of
     the dome. He wondered why. They'd seemed so confident and
     contemptous. 'Why bother?' The President, merely turned his head
     in that direction.

     "Jim, what are you up to?" asked McCoy, concerned.

     Kirk ignored him. Instead he contacted the bridge after once more
     receiving an affirmative signal from Mr. Scott.

     "Mr. Chekov, are the phasers locked on to those coordinates and
     ready?"

     "Yes, Keptin."

     "Good, fire on my order."

     "Jim, you can't," McCoy objected loudly.

     "Captain, the prime directive...,"Spock tried calmly.

     Uhura just sat silently, aghast. Offer didn't know what to think.

     "Gentlemen!" Kirk sliced through any further protests. He verified
     that the K'S'vaits attention was still directed at the right place
     and said calmly: "Now, Mr. Chekov."

     Chekov felt sweat drops form on his forehead when the Captain had
     asked if all was ready. It was very rare that the Enterprise used
     phasers against a planet. Now, with a rapidly beating heart, he
     touched the appropriate pad on his control board. He felt the
     slight increase in usually gentle vibration of the Enterprise as
     she released her deadly powers. The visible red light given off by
     the phaser-beam carved a straight path towards the planet's
     atmosphere where it disappeared from view.

     "Uhura, audio on, please." The Captain's face was stone.

     As the audio communications were re-established they heard gasps
     of amazement and fear: "It's all gone!" "But the people are still
     there and alive!" "It's so precise. Look...none the other
     buildings has been touched!"

     On the main-view screen, Jim had shown the people in the briefing
     room what was happening. Where once a crew of K'S'vaits were
     trying to remove an almost totally demolished building and clean
     up the site, only an entirely empty space was left along with a
     bewildered clean-up crew. There job was suddenly done for them by
     some unseen and seemingly omnipotent power. Not one bit of
     crystal, stone, beam or other matter was left in the space where
     all the rubble had still been a mere second ago. The buildings
     that were attached to either side of the destroyed dome were
     intact, pristine.

     Kirk felt intense relief that it had worked. He gave Scotty a
     quick mischievous grin.

     'Clean and precise, fascinating,' Spock thought.

     "Well, I'll be dammed," said McCoy grinning, "you son of a ..."

     Kirk gave him a warning look.

     Suddenly the voice of the President brought their attention back
     to the matter at hand. "Enough! Captain we see you speak wisely.
     We do not wish to be cut off from cultural and economic contacts
     with other worlds. What are your proposals?"

     Jim smiled inwardly, 'Nothing like a few fireworks to get
     someone's attention,' he thought. Outwardly he assumed his 'centre
     seat' expression. "You will refrain from dealing in any sentient
     life and stop the enforced inter-breeding generally. You will help
     those that are malformed due to their genetic and physiological
     incompatibility. All inter-worlds commercial arrangements must go
     through the FCIPCP. I suggest that you apply, in due course, for
     Federation membership if you think you can abide by Federation
     rules. Membership would however, provide you with many positive
     things. I will send down a party to monitor these changes. They
     will keep Star Fleet informed at all times. The party will include
     a medical officer to oversee provision of aid to the afore
     mentioned unfortunate ones. I want your personal assurance that my
     officers will be safe and unhindered in their observations. Will
     you abide by this restrictions?"

     "Yes, we will," the President agreed.

     Kirk noticed some surprise among the other K'S'vaits. 'Could he
     trust this man? Did he have a choice?' he wondered wryly.

     "We will be back to obtain a full report from our landing party,"
     he stressed.

     "You have absolutely nothing to fear. All will be as you have
     said."

     "Very well..." Jim still wanted some more assurance but the
     President spoke again: "We will now close communications with you,
     to start implementing your directives. When your landing party is
     ready to beam down, inform K'Trek, who will meet them and arrange
     for their well-being and anything they will need to carry out
     their duties. Salutations, Captain." The screens went blank.

     "Can we trust them, Jim?" McCoy asked.

     "I don't know, Bones, but we have to take that risk, at least for
     now."

     "It is the only logical way we can proceed, Doctor," Spock added.

     "Lieutenant Offer." Kirk tirned toward the young officer.

     "Yes, Captain?"

     "I would like you to lead that landing party."

     "Thank you, sir. I would love to get the chance to study these
     people more."

     "Good. I am including two security guards into your landing party
     apart from the medical officer, who will be assigned by Dr. McCoy.
     The other two are up to you."

     "Yes, Sir." Offer very nearly saluted, in his pride and gratitude.

     "And we will be back for you soon." Kirk promised.

     ---

     In the K'S'vait meeting-dome the President was being bombarded
     with questions from all sides.

     "ENOUGH!" he bellowed. Some of the other K'S'vaits put their hands
     over their ears. "We have agreed to the Captain's demands simply
     to get that ship out of here. When they leave we can contact our
     allies on Ch'Rihan and proceed from there." He ended, stood and
     walked in a brisk but flowing manner out of the room.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Footnotes and explanations

Next chapter.


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From: marketa@kestrel.ludwig.ucl.ac.uk (Marketa Zvelebil)
Subject: Re: IDIC-PLANET - A TOS STORY
Sender: news@ucl.ac.uk (Usenet News System)
Message-ID: <1996Apr1.105511.24245@ucl.ac.uk>
Date: Mon, 1 Apr 1996 10:55:11 GMT
References: <827697800snz@yemeads.demon.co.uk> <HO7IYBAPecWxEwNi@rolyat.demon.co.uk> <1996Apr1.101623.90222@ucl.ac.uk>
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                                 IDIC-PLANET

                        Copyright Marketa J. Zvelebil

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

                                 CHAPTER 24

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

     The landing party, led by Offer, had arrived safely on the planet.
     Offer had reported that the K'S'vaits with whom they dealt were
     very co-operative, and that they had settled in. All seemed to be
     under control. It was time to leave orbit and head for Vulcan, yet
     Jim felt uneasy at leaving.

     He looked round the bridge and noted McCoy hovering impatiently.
     'It is time to go or McCoy will have a nervous breakdown,' Jim
     grinned inwardly.

     "Mr. Chekov, lay in an orbit to Vulcan."

     "Already laid in, Sir."

     "Very well. Ensign Taravitch take us out gently. Once we are free
     of the gravity well goto warp two. Then slowly increase to warp
     seven." James Kirk was not certain about the proficiency of the
     new ensign and was going to make sure that they left without any
     further mishaps. The ensign cringed in embarrassment as the
     Captain detailed the specific steps for a standard
     orbit-departure.

     "At last!" sighed McCoy when they were clear of Kavayak and
     cruising in other-space at a steady warp-seven. "Now, Jim. That
     trip to sickbay..."

     "Not now, Bones," he put up his hand to halt McCoy's protests, "we
     still have one, rather unpleasant, duty to perform."

     "Which is?" asked McCoy with suspicion.

     Spock, who had joined them, said: "Ensign LaPierre?"

     "Yes, Spock. We will convene a hearing in half an hour. Arrange
     for LaPierre to be there, Spock."

     "Yes, Captain, and although she did not ask I have arranged for
     Mr. Hedgworth to be present at the hearing. If there is a court
     martial, then he would be best suited to act as her defence."

     "Very good, Spock. I am afraid it will have to come to a court
     martial."

     "Indeed."

     "Lieutenant Uhura, you have the conn. Can you also call Mr.Scott
     and pry him from his engines and ask him to join us in briefing
     room three, in his dress uniform."

     Jim heard a pained groan from Bones behind him. "Yes, gentlemen,
     dress uniform. These things are recorded and must be done
     properly.

     ---

     "This hearing is in session." Captain Kirk said gravely after he
     struck the antique ship-bell in fron of him three times. Ensign
     LaPierre sat alone facing the table at which were seated the
     Captain and his three most senior officers, all resplendent in
     their dress uniforms, but looking very sombre.

     She felt nervous flutters in her stomach. 'What had she let
     herself in for?' she wondered. Would she spend long years in a
     re-education colony? She hoped not. The thought of being confined
     with so many 'inferior' beings increased her discomfort.

     "Ensign LaPierre, you have been briefed as to the charges brought
     against you?" the Captain asked.

     "Yes, Sir." she answered as calmly as possible. Her legal advisor
     had listed them, item by item. They made an impressively long
     list, starting with leaving the ship without permission to
     breaking the prime directive and including the aiding and abetting
     the incitment of civil unrest.

     "Good. Would you like to tell the hearing anything in your
     defence?"

     She shook her head. They couldn't possibly understand.

     "Captain, may I?" asked Lieutenant Hedgworth.

     Kirk gave a short nod.

     "The ensign is young and comes from a planet where the Elders have
     full control of the society . She has been indoctrinated from
     early childhood to believe that only one way of life is correct.
     Even as a child she had been chosen and trained to infiltrate Star
     Fleet with the sole purpose of spreading The Way. She knew nothing
     else and followed the only path she could. I propose that Star
     Fleet is, in a samll way, partly to blame for what has occurred.
     The entrance interview and psychological examinations should have
     picked up on her xenophobia."

     "Thank you Mr. Hedgworth. We shall take that into consideration
     when writing our report." Kirk said and thought that Spock had
     chosen LaPierre's defense counsel well.

     "Gentleman, do you wish to ask the defendant any queastions, or
     make additional comments?' Kirk asked his officers. They looked at
     LaPierre, then at each other, Spock shook his head slightly as he
     replied:

     "Negative, Captain."

     "Ms. LaPierre, it is our opinion that you be detained pending
     court martial, probably on Earth. Mr. Hedgworth will accompany
     you."

     LaPeirre looked scared, yet even now she held her head high and
     gave the Captain a challenging look.

     "Under the authority invested in me by Star Fleet I adjourn this
     hearing till the court martial, where our reports and Mr.
     Hedgworth will accompany the accused. This hearing is closed." He
     said.

     LaPierre and Hedgeworth rose. Kirk rang the bell three times,
     slowly. The panel remained silent.

     As LaPierre was being led away McCoy turned to Kirk.

     "Jim, what's going to happen to her?"

     "Well... she has done a lot of wrong, Bones. But she did them
     under extenuating circumstances. With Mr. Hedgworth as her defence
     lawyer and our reports she should get off very lightly. At most, a
     year in a Rehab. centre, then probably returned to her home
     planet. We will recommend however, stricter entrance examinations
     before admittance to the Academy, and an interview with a senior
     officer of the ship the cadet is initially assigned to, especially
     if the new candidate is from a world that has only recently been
     admitted to the Federation. Mr. Hedgworth is right, Star Fleet
     must take some blame for what has happened on Kavayak."

     "Good, I would hate to see her waste her life in a rehabilitation
     center, " McCoy said.

     "So would I, Bones. I actually like her," admitted Kirk with a
     self-deprecatory smile.

     "Illogical," Spock commented.

     "Let's get out of these and back to normal business," Jim tugged
     at the collar of his dress uniform. The Doctor smiled at this
     unconscious reflection of his usual gesture.

     "Yep, and you," McCoy pointed a finger at Jim, " down to sickbay."

     "Okay, Bones, " Kirk chuckled, "Mind the store for a while longer,
     Spock?"

     "Acknowledged," Spock said and headed to the bridge via his cabin
     to change.

     ---

     "Well, Jim, you are one lucky man," McCoy smiled.

     "Lucky?" Kirk tried hard to find the connection between luck and
     his present state of being flat on his back on a diagnostic bed.
     He sat up and put on his uniform-top.

     "Yes, you are on the verge of developing a beauty of a peptic
     ulcer."

     'That's luck?' Kirk thought

     "With the new treatment we have we can get rid of both the pain
     and the pre-ulcer in a day, or two at most."

     "What is the treatment?" asked Kirk eyeing McCoy suspiciously.

     McCoy laughed. He remembered the time that he had confined the
     Captain to prolonged bed-rest to cure a previous ulcer. The truth
     of the matter was, that at the time he also had to cure an all
     consuming exhaustion and the ulcer just proved a good excuse.

     "Just a couple a hypos and you can be on your way back to the
     bridge in five minutes," he assured the Captain, who clearly had
     also remembered that episode.

     With a mixture of resignation and relief, Jim offered up an arm.
     McCoy was careful not to look too mischievous as he duly
     administered the drugs. "Had you worried there for a minute,
     didn't I?" he smirked to himself.

     ---

     The bridge was full of mildly excited discussion about the now
     popularly named "IDIC" planet. Captain Kirk let the chatter
     continue - it was a safe way to release any residual tension.

     "I cannot think with all this noise on the bridge," Spock snapped
     suddenly.

     The ensuing silence was more deafening than the chatter that
     preceded it.

     'Now why doesn't that have the same effect when I say it?' was
     Kirk's first thought. Then he realised what had just happened and
     turned, as did everyone else, to stare at Spock. Remembering their
     manners, they quickly all managed to be extremely occupied with
     their duties. Captain Kirk modified his gaze, which was still
     locked on Spock's now very expressive face.

     Spock stood still, with annoyance still on his face, which turned
     instantly to shock followed by an extremely imperturbable mask. He
     turned stiffly back to his science console. In his turn Captain
     Kirk also swivelled the conn back to face the main screen. 'Just
     what was that all about?' he pondered.

     The only other time Kirk remembered such strange behaviour from
     Spock, was during his Ponn-farr. 'Oh no!' he thought to himself,
     'Not again.' the cuts made by the fearsome lirpa fresh in his
     mind. He also realised suddenly, that this was not the first time
     since they had left the "IDIC" planet that Spock had nearly lost
     his Vulcan equanimity. Kirk got up and walked to the lift saying:

     "Mr. Spock, come with me please."

     "Captain?"

     "Please," the Captain repeated his tone suggesting it wasn't
     really a request. He indicated the open lift doors.

     Bemused, Spock acquiesced and joined the Captain in the lift.

     "Sickbay," Kirk said, then turned to face his First Officer.

     "Spock, it's all right. We'll arrive on Vulcan within 49 hours."

     "49 hours, 13 minutes. I am well aware of that fact, Captain."
     Spock did not meet the Captain's eyes. He maintained his usual
     elegantly correct stance. Something shifted in the shoulders
     though.

     Kirk looked at his friend with concern. Surely he wasn't going to
     deny it all again. Then to the utter astonishment of both, Spock
     laughed quietly.

     "Spock! Spock?" Had the Vulcan gone utterly space-happy?

     "Laughing is not prohibited by Vulcans, Captain, if the situation
     warrants it." Spock put the lift on manual and stopped it before
     it could reach its destination.

     "Spock?" Reassured slightly, but still baffled.

     "You have, prematurely, arrived at an erroneous conclusion, Jim."
     Spock returned the Captain's scrutiny, with the full force of his
     own. There was a warmth in it that most had never seen, and Kirk
     only rarely.

     "Oh?" not convinced.

     "I am not entering Pon farr." He leaned back against the lift
     bulkhead, crossing his arms in front of him.

     Kirk looked relieved but puzzled. Spock continued, still smiling
     slightly.

     "However, I believe my essential mind-meld with Lieutenant Sulu
     has affected me more then I first..." Spock stopped as he sensed
     Kirk's intense new concern for him. He realised suddenly what the
     problem really was. "It seems, Captain, that my normal unconscious
     ability to shield myself from the emotions of others has
     diminished significantly."

     By composing his facial expression, Kirk tried to suppress his
     feelings in order to protect his friend.

     "Captain....Jim. You do not have the training to successfully
     control your emotions fully. It is unnecessary in any case," he
     said not quite hiding his smile. "However, while you and Dr. McCoy
     are staying with my parents, I trust you will not be disappointed
     if I do not join you for the entire time.

     Kirk's face fell slightly in disappointment. "Of course not, Mr.
     Spock. What do you have in mind, if one might ask?"

     "One might," Spock sighed. "I mean no offence but...a period of
     solitude and contemplation is what is urgently required."

     Captain Kirk realised just how difficult and wearing this must be
     on his friend. " Would you like to be relieved of duty until we
     arrive?" he asked, certain of the answer.

     "Unnecessary, Captain."

     "Well, Spock, I hope you'll be able to recharge your batteries
     when we get to Vulcan."

     "Batteries, Captain?" Spock could not resist replying.

     Kirk grinned and released the auto stop. The lift resumed the
     downward journey. Upon reaching its destination, the doors opened
     to:

     "Damn it! Who's the idiot that's been holding up
     this....Uhhh..Captain...Mr.Spock...Sirs...I don't really need this
     lift anyway...." Uhura stammered, red faced.

     Kirk hid a smile and said, inviting poor Uhura into the lift:
     "It's nice to see you too, Lieutenant. Are you on your way to the
     bridge? Do join us."

     Uhura sidled in, not daring to look at either officer. During the
     return journey, the atmosphere in the lift was interesting to say
     the least.

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                                  Epilogue

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     Sulu stretched and sighed. This must truly be the most spectacular
     shore leave he'd ever had or ever will have. First, that amazing
     hike through the rainforest. He wanted to take a cutting of
     everything. Only the consciousness of his mass allowence
     restrained him.

     Then the three day white water jaunt. The bruises were fading
     nicely, thank you. Now...he was lying on the most beautiful pink
     sanded beach he'd ever seen, with a gorgeous female at his side. A
     cloudless sky, superbly coloured sea...he didn't really think he'd
     died and gone to Heaven. Heaven probably didn't have all the
     'mod.cons'. He reached for his drink.

     "Come for a swim," his companion touched his arm. The events of
     the night before replayed in Sulu's mind. Oh yes!

     "Mmm...not yet. Start without me," he murmured, smiling at her. He
     really was just too comfortable to get up. She rose, and trickled
     a handful of warm, soft sand onto Hikaru's middle. Laughing, she
     ran to the water's edge, expecting him to follow, in their usual
     game.

     He closed his eyes and streched again. 'In a minute,' he thought.
     How different this was from the nightmares he'd been having aboard
     the Enterprise. They were all nearly the same: It was cold...space
     cold. Utterly dark, as though light had never existed. He was
     falling endlessly. He was inconcievably alone.

     ---

     Sulu woke up with a start. Everything round him was unfamiliar,
     the sounds and the smell. This was not the Sickbay of the
     Enterprise. Where was he? He felt panic set in.

     "Hey! He is awake!" the cheerful voice of Chekov stopped the rise
     of panic.

     "Oh...Hikaru, we missed you," Uhura was there, taking his hand
     into hers and squeezing it, while Chekov was slapping him on his
     shoulder. He looked from the one to the other. Uhura had tears in
     her eyes. Chekov was grinning like a Argelian crocodile.

     "What happened?" he croaked in a weak voice as fragments of
     memories swam through his mind.

     "The Captain and Spock will come and tell you everything. We
     mustn't stay too long or the doctors here will string us up in the
     desert." Uhura smiled.

     "At least tell me, where am I?" pleaded Sulu.

     "On Vulcan, at the Academy hospital." Chekov said laughing softly
     at Sulu's surprise. Just then a nurse came bringing medicine for
     her patient. She allowed both Uhura and Chekov to stay as long as
     they promised not to tire the patient. Soon they were joined by
     the Captain, and McCoy. Spock was on a special retreat, Sulu was
     informed, as they told him exactly what happened.

     Three weeks later Uhura rushed into Sulu's room at the
     convalescent's hostel (for out-worlders) where Sulu was being
     pampered back to absolute health.

     "Sulu, hurry up - we're leaving. New Star Fleet orders to pick up
     Offer. You can finish you 'vacation' back in the Sickbay of the
     Enterprise."

     Sulu hurriedly got his things together, with the help of Uhura,
     and hoped that any further convalescing would be done back at his
     helm.

     Lieutenant Offer sat dejected and angry in a small cabin of the
     Vulcan trade ship. He was, as far as he knew, the sole survivor of
     his landing party. 'What had gone wrong? Why?' These questions
     occupied his mind as he prepared a report for Star Fleet and his
     Captain.

                         End of Book 1 in this saga.

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Footnotes and explanations
                                  Footnotes

(1) Vulcan Academy Murders - Jean Lorrah.
(2) The Wounded Sky - Diane Duane.
(3)Means a scavenger and is used as an insult (The Romulan Way - Duane &
Morwood.).
(4) Means Avanger. (The Romulan Way - Duane & Morwood)
(5) Spock's World - Diane Duane. (Live long and prosper)
(6) Means 'Thu Ruling Passion: all to do with honour. 