"I WISH TO SPEAK to the commander of your cohort," the Dohlman of Elas said for the third time, her eyes narrowing on the screen. Under the lilting Elasian accent, Uhura recognized the snap of irritation in her voice.
Captain Kirk's voice held almost the same tone when he replied. "I am the commander of this cohort. Your Glory." The last two words sounded as if he had to force them out between his teeth. Uhura suspected Kirk had as much trouble as she did believing that this coltish youngster really was the supreme ruler of Elas.
"How can that be, underling?" The young girl lifted a hand to point accusingly at him. "I can see two females in the same room as you. I will speak to the one who is a Dohlman."
Kirk looked down at his quiet female navigator, Lieutenant Bhutto, then back over his shoulder at Uhura. He sighed. "In our society, Your Glory, our Dohlmen do not—"
"Takcas, I am insulted by the unauthorized words of this insect," the Dohlman declared to someone offscreen. "Cut the contact."
"—speak to other Dohlmen to whom they have not been properly introduced," Kirk finished smoothly.
A small hand made an imperious gesture, and the static that had begun to cloud the screen cleared again. From beneath snake-thick black curls, almond-shaped eyes regarded Kirk suspiciously. "Introduced?"
"By their chief underlings." Kirk ignored the muffled sound that burst from McCoy. "If you will not speak to me, put your own chief underling on the screen and I will introduce our Dohlman through him."
A curt nod answered him, and the view shifted to a red-haired Elasian male in a leather-belted tunic that exposed heavily muscled arms. "I am Takcas."
Kirk met his grim stare with one just as unflinching. "Takcas, I am Kirk. Behind me, you see Dohlman Uhura, who did you such great honor by hailing you in person when you refused our previous request for contact."
Takcas grunted, not looking very impressed. "And you, Kirk, were honored by the reply of our Dohlman who is the Dohlman, the glorious Israi, twelfth of the line of Kesmeth."
"There." Israi's strongly angled face appeared on the screen again, mouth tight with impatience. "We are introduced now, Kirk-insect. Let me speak to your Dohlman."
Bhutto cast an anxious glance back over her shoulder, and Kirk gave her a reassuring shake of his head. "Dohlman Uhura," he said, turning toward her and deliberately away from the communicator pickup. "Are you willing to speak to Her Glory, the Dohlman Israi?" Unseen by the Elasians, the captain's lips formed the words "Monitor channel to science station."
"Yes, Captain," Uhura said, answering both question and command at once. Her fingers ran across her board, linking her monitor to the speaker pickup at Spock's console. Kirk nodded and moved out of communicator view.
"Dohlman Uhura." Israi sounded a little less certain of herself now that she was confronting another woman, and one older than herself, as well. Uhura wondered how long the girl had actually been the Dohlman of Elas. "Why did you contact me?"
Kirk's whisper buzzed in her ear through her communications monitor. "Ask her why they're here."
Uhura judged it best to be a little less blunt than that. "As part of our—I mean my—duty to Starfleet, Dohlman Israi, my ship must check all settlements on uninhabited planets. Would you be kind enough to inform me of the reasons for your presence here?"
The girl lifted her chin, giving it an even more arrogant sweep against her black hair. "We are mining," she announced proudly. "Dilithium, in great quantity."
Uhura heard stifled gasps from around the bridge. When Kirk spoke in her ear this time, his voice was more grim. "Ask her what right she has to mine on this planet."
"Dohlman Israi, this planet does not appear on our ship charts as part of Elasian space. By whose permission do you mine here?"
"No one's permission!" Israi's almond eyes glittered with sudden anger. "This system was charted by Elasian ships in the days of my ancestors. It is ours by right of first landing, as set out in Federation law!"
The youthful indignation in Israi's voice sounded genuine. Uhura slid Kirk a swift glance, and saw him looking thoughtful.
"Ask her if we can examine the charts she refers to," his voice murmured from her monitor.
Uhura conveyed the request, and saw Israi glance questioningly at someone offscreen. A male voice spoke, too softly for the universal translator to catch, and Uhura almost smiled. It seemed she was not the only one being prompted in this conversation.
"The charts are here, with us," said Israi at last. "You may examine them as you please, but we will not surrender them to you. You will come to me. After all, you are only a Dohlman. I am the Dohlman."
The last words were spoken with a uniquely Elasian combination of imperious command and disdain. Through her monitor, Uhura heard Kirk's teeth click with frustration. Then he muttered, "Agree to visit, Uhura. Tell them to expect a shuttle in an hour, with you and three guards on board. And a geologist guide, in case you have to navigate the terrain."
Uhura took a deep breath. "I agree to your request, Dohlman Israi. You can expect me and four—uh—underlings in one hour."
Israi raised her angled brows, looking scornful. "You have a cohort of only four? You are not such a great Dohlman, then."
This time, Uhura didn't wait for Kirk to prompt her reply. "I have a cohort of nearly a thousand," she said, summoning up a voice of equal scorn. "But since my ship can easily destroy your outpost from orbit, I don't need to be put to the trouble of bringing them all."
Kirk's soft whistle in her ear told her he approved of the retort. Israi's mouth never quivered, but the slight crease between her brows told Uhura that her point had been taken. "Come when you please," the Dohlman said, and gestured dismissively at the screen. With a splatter of static, the contact cut off.
"Whew." Uhura set down her monitor and swung around to face the captain. "I would never have guessed that being a Dohlman was such hard work."
"You took to it like a true tyrant," McCoy assured her with a grin. "By the end, you even had me convinced you owned the Enterprise."
"Keep up that impression," Kirk advised her. "It may be the only thing that keeps her talking to you." He bounded down to his command chair, all energy now that he had a goal in sight. "Spock, contact the Johnston Observatory and arrange to have one of their geologists transported over to guide the landing party. Sulu, I want you to pilot the shuttle—with all the eruptions in progress down there, the atmosphere's going to be tricky. Chekov, you're in charge of security." Both men nodded quick agreement, and Uhura stifled a smile. Astute as he was in the ways of command, Captain Kirk was not above taking advantage of her friends' protectiveness to insure the success of a mission. "Uhura, I want you to transcribe those charts. Take a tricorder down with you to authenticate their age. Let me know the results as soon as possible."
"You mean you're not going down with her, Jim?" McCoy's blue eyes gleamed with mischief. "Remember, you told Dohlman Israi you were Uhura's chief underling."
"Which is exactly why she ordered me to guard her ship while she's gone," Kirk retorted. "Right, Dohlman Uhura?"
Uhura smiled wryly. "Right, Captain."
"Bones, I really don't see why this is necessary."
McCoy made a grumpy noise of disgust, and it occurred to Kirk that he also didn't know why he ever bothered arguing with McCoy. It wasn't as if the doctor ever changed his mind because of anything Kirk said, and God knew it wasn't because Kirk enjoyed seeing how long a disagreement could last, the way Spock did. Maybe somewhere deep inside, Kirk liked having an officer who treated him in an irreverent, disrespectful manner, so that he never forgot that he got out of bed one foot at a time, just like everyone else in the galaxy.
"Jim, if you don't get back on that examining table, I'm gonna suture your butt to it."
Then again, maybe Kirk was just too stubborn to give in to any opponent, even when it was an old friend.
"Dammit, Bones, I'm waiting to hear from the landing party about whether or not they could meet with the Dohlman." But he did sit down—in a chair, with one elbow up on the examining table and his fingers drumming against the end. "I don't need to waste time while you dig up some old inoculation for no good reason."
McCoy recrossed the sickbay, hypospray in one hand, data chip in the other. "It's not an inoculation, it's an antidote. Just like you'd get for a rattlesnake bite—you have to take it after the venom's in your system, not before you get bit."
Kirk thought the doctor's choice of analogy unnecessarily negative, but as usual, McCoy didn't seem to notice his captain's annoyance. He gestured with the hypospray.
"Trust me, if I could prevent the effects of a Dohlman's tears, I would have inoculated Sulu, Chekov, and Murphy before you even sent them planetside. As it is, they've got the antidote in their medikit in case they aren't smart enough to keep away from her when she cries." McCoy squinted at the data chip, then tossed it aside. "Take off your jacket."
Sighing, Kirk rocked forward to plant both feet on the floor as he unlatched the shoulder strap and stripped open the jacket's front. "It's been five years …"
"And I don't recall anybody saying the biochemical influence of a Dohlman's tears wears off. You've probably got a load of Elasian hormones still cluttering up your blood."
"I'm fine."
McCoy caught the captain's wrist in wiry fingers and shoved back the white tunic sleeve. "Don't tell me how to do my job, Captain, and I won't lock you away from this Dohlman until we leave."
Kirk frowned a little against the hypospray's sting. "The thought would never occur to me." He sat back in his chair, frowning at the doctor while he tugged his sleeve back into place. "I don't suppose I'm now free to go."
"Not yet." McCoy dismantled the hypospray with easy familiarity, barely glancing at the components as he tossed them into their respective cleaning trays. "You've got to keep me company for at least another twenty minutes, so I can be sure you don't throw some kind of funny reaction."
Kirk heard the outer door whisk open behind him, and allowed himself at least a small grin of satisfaction at the startled glower McCoy shot over the captain's shoulder. "I had a feeling you'd say that. What have you got for me, Spock?"
"Captain, Doctor." Spock's greeting was brisk and to the point, as always.
"No visitors," McCoy began, and Kirk waggled a finger at him.
"If I'm going to sit here for twenty minutes assimilating your Dohlman antidote, Bones, I'm going to get some work done."
Spock laced his hands behind his back, nodding gravely. "I infer Dr. McCoy succeeded in convincing you to take the treatment, then."
Kirk pursed his lips sourly. "I didn't get much choice."
"May I say that I think this was a wise decision, regardless of the circumstances?"
"You may," Kirk said, hoping his irritated expression didn't look too much like McCoy's.
"And thank you." The doctor probably couldn't have sounded more pleased.
"Spock, the Elasians." Kirk stood, retrieving his jacket from the examining table beside him. His arm ached from the shot, which didn't improve his mood. "Let's hear the rest of that background report. Any clues in it about where they got their warp technology?"
"None, Captain." Spock settled himself for what Kirk suspected could be a lengthy discussion. He wondered if it would bother the Vulcan to know that he had body language. "Traffic in the Tellun system has increased since the cessation of violence between Elas and Troyius. Starfleet has records of numerous peaceable visitations by the Klingons to Elas over the past five years, as well as much Orion trading activity between both planets within the Tellun system."
"The Klingons to Elas?" Kirk paused in shouldering into his jacket. The image conjured up by that information was distressing enough without further detail. Still, Kirk had to ask. "What could the Elasians have that the Klingons would want?"
Spock raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "Besides similar cultural ethics and a strong warrior's code?"
"The Elasians married off their warlord to the Troyian king," McCoy reminded Kirk, finally abandoning his cleanup procedures to join the other two. "Maybe the Klingons think getting in good with the Elasians will give them a way to reach all that dilithium on Troyius."
"At this point, that seems unlikely, Doctor."
Kirk frowned at his first officer. "Explain."
"Seventeen months ago, Dohlman Elaan was killed in combat defending the Troyian dilithium deposits from raiders."