THE FEELING OF warmth and well-being that had followed Kirk for the few days he'd spent on Boaco Six had completely vanished by the time he stepped onto the bridge. The search to find the people who had beamed down for shore leave had been chaotic; they were scattered throughout the city of Boa. Two had been at a music festival, unable to hear the signal of their communicators. Kirk wanted them all beamed up fast, before the new hostility toward Starfleet among the Boacans got them into difficulty. One reported that he had already been threatened, goaded toward a fistfight.
Then had come the search for the members of the landing party; all were still in the bungalow except for McCoy and Rizzuto. They were spending the evening further pursuing their research. Kirk gathered his men and had them beam up directly—they could be debriefed at some later, calmer moment. Right now, he wanted facts.
"Scotty, what's been going on up here? Why wasn't I informed?"
Mr. Scott, with humility, sprang up out of the captain's chair, glad to relinquish it to Kirk. "I canna really say, Captain. Our sensors picked up readings of violence in space near this system's other populated planet. But I dinna think we should break orbit and investigate. I would have signaled you, but we were on the far side of the planet, blocked by the smallest moon when it happened. We'd only just come into communication range when you signaled for beam-up."
"Very good, Mr. Scott."
Lieutenant Uhura swiveled around on her chair. "Excuse me, Captain, but I intercepted a message in code from someone named Irina. She claimed that a ship from Boaco Eight had been destroyed … by a Federation ship!"
"So they've been telling me, Lieutenant. And I want to get to the bottom of this. Mr. Chekov, plot a course, at sub-light speed, to the scene of the attack. Tamara Angel thought this Irina's ship was done for—if we can save it, it will be proof of our goodwill."
"Course plotted and laid in, sir."
Kirk's palms flexed on the arms of his chair. All the lushness of that tropical world had not seemed truly natural to Kirk. This was his natural habitat. Now he was home. "All right, we'll be there in a few minutes. In the meantime, I want suggestions, possible explanations. Obviously, the Federation would not be out to attack a ship from either of these two planets. Well then, who would? Spock?"
The Vulcan had arrived on the bridge immediately after his captain and silently moved to his science panel. He cleared his throat. "Several possibilities present themselves, Captain. It could have been a Klingon ship disguised as one of Starfleet's. The Klingons would hope to aggravate the tension between the Boacan worlds, obviously, since they hope to spur the sixth planet on to go to war with its neighbor. The Romulans and the Orions also have a stake in the sale of weapons, and therefore in encouraging hostilities within this system. Indeed, for anyone who wants these worlds to go to war, and who wants Boaco Six to permanently distrust the Federation of Planets, such a terrorist act would be an excellent tactical maneuver."
Kirk nodded. "Well, we'll find out who it was. As soon as we see to this crippled ship."
The turbolift doors whooshed open and Leonard McCoy stepped out, already blustering before they had closed behind him. "Jim, you didn't have time to tell me in the transporter room. Well, maybe you can tell me now. What's going on? Why have y'all suddenly decided to pack up and come back on board? Do you know what I was observing out there? The inoculation programs that they've set up. Having children give each other shots and medicine, to increase their understanding and to minimize their fear. And then you take a notion that we just up and leave …"
"Stand by, Bones. There may be wounded on the ship we're approaching. We may need you."
Spock walked over to McCoy and spoke to him quietly. "Sometimes, Doctor, your exuberance is less than beneficial. Understandably, you were reluctant to leave your fieldwork, and beam back aboard. But obviously the captain was facing an emergency, and valuable minutes were lost—"
"I came when I could, Spock," McCoy snapped. "I had my hand inside of somebody's gut, and I came when I could."
Kirk knew that there were times when the friendly bickering between the two took on a serious edge. Spock could not fully understand the doctor's uneasy relationship with Starfleet procedure and judged him harshly sometimes, though he respected his skills. And Spock's perfectionism and nit-picking only exasperated McCoy. As usual, the captain gently intervened.
"Tell me, Bones, have the Boacan patients who were on board all been beamed down? That's the important thing."
McCoy nodded. "Yes, yes, they're all back home. Some of them shouldn't be, weren't ready to be moved …"
"The Boacans made a special point of demanding it," Kirk said.
Helmsman Sulu slid his controls to slow the speed of the Enterprise. "Debris of the eighth planet's ship and the crippled sixth planet's ship appearing on the main screen, Captain."
It was a grim sight. The mangled scraps of one ship hung in space beside the blackened and battered hull of the second. The fact that Irina's ship seemed to be vaguely Romulan in its design did not lessen the grimness of its plight.
Spock spoke, bending over his panel. "It appears we are too late, Captain. No life readings from Irina's ship. It has apparently been flooded with poisonous gas, and the life-support systems, including temperature control, have been malfunctioning for over an hour."
Kirk pursed his lips.
Captain's Log, Supplemental:
It seems that we will have no survivors to present to the Council of Youngers of Boaco Six to regain their trust. Obviously, the one avenue open to us is to ascertain who is responsible for this attack and bring them to justice. I am still confident that it cannot be the Federation of Planets.
Lieutenant Uhura's hand moved to her earpiece to adjust the frequency of the signals she was receiving.
"Captain, it's Admiral Komack of Starfleet Command. Shall I put him on the main screen?"
"Yes, Lieutenant."
The dour, tired image of the admiral loomed above the bridge, wavering and crackling. Due to ion storms in this quadrant, communication with Starfleet was problematic, not always possible.
"Admiral."
Komack nodded shortly. "Kirk, you will abandon your current diplomatic mission to Boaco Six. If possible, you will resume it at a later juncture. But another issue of more immediate concern has arisen, and yours is the only starship in the area. There has been a small rebellion in a neighboring system, and a class five Starfleet vessel has been stolen by … marauders. It is armed and dangerous. An ore freighter has already been attacked, and we fear it may do more damage."
Though he had never really doubted it, Kirk felt relieved to see confirmed his faith that Starfleet Command had no knowledge of the attack on the two Boacan vessels. He opened his mouth to add to the admiral's information. "Admiral …"
"You've dealt with the problem of the system where the rebellion took place before, Kirk. So your experience may be of some use to you. The disturbance took place on Juram Five."
Kirk felt stunned. Old ghosts filled his mind. Juram Five. Juram … Five?