STAR TREK - TOS - 51 - Enemy Unseen

Enemy Unseen

BY

V.e. MITCHELL

POCKET BOOKS New York London

Toronto Sydney Tokyo Singapore

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters,

places and incidents are either the product of the

author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

Any resemblance to actual events or locales

or persons, living or dead, is entirely

coincidental.

An Original Publication of POCKET

BOOKS

MEME-MA POCKET BOOKS, a division of

Simon and Schuster Inc. 1230 Avenue of the

Americas, New York, NY 10020

Copyright (C 1990 by Paramount

STAR TREK is a Registered Trademark of

[*thorn] Paramount Pictures.

This book is published by Pocket Books, a

division of Simon and Schuster Inc., under

exclusive license from Paramount Pictures.

to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form

whatsoever. For information address Pocket Books,

1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York,

NY 10020

ISBN 0-671-68403-5

First Pocket Books printing October 1990

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

POCKET and colophon are registered

trademarks of Simon and Schuster Inc.

Printed in the U.s.a. to Jon

for believing I could write this-and for reading all its

incarnations more times than he cares to remember

Historian's Note

This adventure takes place shortly after the

events chronicled in Star Trek The Motion

Picture.

Captain's Log, Stardate 8036.2 While

on a routine star charting mission, the

Enterprise has been ordered to report to Starbase

15. When we arrive, we will receive orders for a

short-duration, high-priority mission. We will also

be dropping off First Officer Spock so he can

rendezvous with a transport to Vulcan. He will be

taking a two-week leave to attend the Vulcan

Academy of Science's Invitational Conference on

Extreme-Energy Physics and the Fine-Scale

Structure of the Universe.

Personal Log, Supplemental While I

would not normally envy Mr. Spock a leave on

Vulcan, in this case I suspect he is getting

the better part of the deal. I greatly fear our new

assignment will be a diplomatic one. I also have

grave dots about the temporary First Officer that

Starfleet has promised me. All I have been

told is that this is his final training assignment before

he is assigned as First Officer to the deep-space

exploration vessel USS Challenger, which is to be

commissioned next month.

LIEUTENANT COMMANDER UHURA acknowledged an

incoming call and turned to Kirk. "Captain,

I'm receiving a message from Starbase 15. It's

Admiral Chen." "On screen." Kirk

straightened in his chair. He remembered Chen

from Starfleet Academy, and she

had always been a stickler for appearances. She also

had a reputation for taking pleasure in handing out

unpopular assignments. This time, Kirk was

determined to remain impassive, no matter how

unpleasant the mission. A small-boned woman of

Chinese extraction appeared on the viewscreen.

She began speaking immediately. "Captain Kirk, as

you have no doubt surmised, your ship is being

assigned to transport the Kaldorni delegation

and a Federation negotiating team to the diplomatic

planetoid, La Paz. Detailed information is

being transmitted to you now. Your passengers will be

ready to beam aboard when you arrive. Chen, out." "Still

gives orders like she was on the frontier," the

navigator, Ensign Yeshua ben Josef,

muttered, directing the comment toward his navigation

console as he rechecked the coordinates for the final

approach to Starbase 15. Lieutenant Commander

Sulu glanced away from the helm controls and flashed

ben Josef a wide grin. "It pays. Sometimes you

only have power for two minutes of long-range

transmission. You have to make every word count." Kirk

ignored the exchange. "Mr. ben Josef,

how long till we arrive?" "Fifteen minutes,

sir." Kirk stood. "Mr. Sulu, you have the

conn. Inform me when we arrive. Commander Uhura,

relay Admiral Chen's information to my quarters.

I'd better find out what's so hush-hush before we

get to Starbase 15."

"Jim! Wait!" McCoy was still adjusting the

collar of his dress uniform as he hurried down the

corridor to join the captain. "What's this about a

diplomatic mission, Captain? Tell me it

isn't true." Kirk paused outside the

transporter room. "Sorry about that, Bones.

For the next few days, we're the diplomatic

shuttle service in this quadrant."

"More precisely, Captain, the Enterprise is

one-half of the quadrant's diplomatic shuttle

service." Spock, carrying a small duffel bag

at his side, arrived from the opposite direction.

"The Diplomatic Service's cruiser, Juan

Martinez, is the other half." "And just how do you know

so much about this?" McCoy said, bouncing on his toes.

"You're not even going to be on the ship for the next

two weeks." "That is correct, Doctor.

However, I still read the briefing tapes. I

consider it my duty to keep informed on the ship's

assignments."

"And just what is our assignment?" McCoy

gave Kirk a look that said "Let's see just how

good he is." Hiding a grin, Kirk turned away

from them and entered the transporter room.

"The Enterprise has been assigned

to transport a delegation from the United Worlds of the

Kaldorni Systems to La Paz for negotiations

with their counterparts from the Beystohn Amalgamated

League of Planets. While en route, a

Federation negotiating team will work with the Kaldorni

to establish the protocols for the actual

negotiations." Spock followed Kirk and

McCoy through the door without missing a beat. "Both

the Kaldorni and the Beystohnai have appealed to the

Federation to prevent a war between them over the rights

to settle the planet Yagra IV."

"Never heard of it," McCoy muttered, glaring

over his shoulder at the transporter room door as

it whisked shut behind him. He was already sorry he'd

started the discussion. From Kirk's amused

expression, McCoy suspected the captain was

enjoying his discomfort.

Spock ignored McCoy's

interruption. "Yagra IV is a high-gravity,

tropical world located in the Epsilon Carinae

system. It is approximately halfway between the

Kaldorni and the Beystohn home planets. Neither

group considers Yagra to be an ideal planet.

Its gravity is much higher than the Kaldorni

homeworld, while the climate is uncomfortably

hot and humid for the

people accustomed to the subarctic climate of

Beystohn. However, Yagra IV is one of the

few planets available for colonization that is within

reach of the spaceflight technologies of the

Kaldorni and the Beystohn League." "Was all

that in the briefing tape?" Kirk asked in

surprise. "I did some supplemental research,

Captain. The information is flagged for your attention."

"Thank you, Mr. Spock. I'll check it as

soon as I can."

"Captain, I have a request to make. In my

spare time, I have been working on the prototype of a

program that is intended to provide logical

advice for those who need it. It is based on an

experimental artificial intelligence system that

promises to revolutionize the way our computer

systems operate. Though the system is far

from complete, it would greatly facilitate the next

set of revisions if someone other than myself tested the

program." "Just what this ship needs." McCoy

rolled his eyes toward the ceilinand. "A

programmed Vulcan-in-a-box. -

"The program is not designed for this ship,"

Spock countered. "The ideal use for such a system

would be to advise personnel on small scout

vessels that do not carry the broad range of

specialists found on the Enterprise. And I

hardly think that the description Vulcan-in-a-box

is appropriate, Doctor. To date, I have

worked on the program for only 17.34 hours. That

is hardly enough time to provide it with the data links

to support a knowledge base equivalent to that possessed

by a very young human. I merely wished to ask the

captain if he would test the program's operation so

that I can make the modifications necessary to optimize

performance."

"Thank you, Spock. I will see what I can

do." Kirk turned to the Transporter Chief.

"Status report, Mr. Rand."

"Starbase reports our passengers are ready

to transport, 4

on your command," Transporter Chief

Janice Rand replied. "Mr. Spock can beam

down when he's ready."

Spock crossed the room and stepped onto the

transporter pad. "With your permission, Captain

Kirk."

"Enjoy your conference, Mr. Spock." Kirk

nodded to Rand. "Energize. And then start bringing

ourguests-aboard."

The familiar whine of the transporter filled the

room. Spock dissolved into shimmering energy and

disappeared. Rand reset the controls and beamed up the

first contingent from the base. Five people materialized.

A tall, heavyset man in his late fifties that

Kirk recognized stepped off the transporter

pad first. Joachim Montoya was dressed

entirely in black, except for the silver Federation

insignia on the left side of his tunic. His dark

eyes and his black hair shot with silver at the

temples emphasized his somber outfit. His gaze

flicked around the room before settling on Kirk.

Montoya extended his hand to the captain. "You must be

Captain Kirk," he said, smiling. "I've

heard a great deal about you. It's a great honor and

privilege to finally meet you."

"Thank you, Commissioner." Kirk's

response was guarded. The heartiness of

Montoya's greeting set his nerves on edge.

"The Enterprise and I are honored to be at your

service."

Montoya's smile never wavered. "Thank you,

Captain. May I present the rest of my party?"

He gestured toward two men and a woman who wore

Federation insignia. "My aides, Kristiann

Norris, Devlin Vreblin, and Paul

Zayle." As Montoya said their names, each nodded

to the captain. Norris was a slight woman of

average height, with medium brown hair, hazel

eyes, and plain features. Vreblin was short and

wiry, with a scar across his cheek and upper lip that

twisted his mouth into a permanent sneer. His dark

hair and eyes appeared to match his dour

expression, and Kirk hoped he would never quarrel

with the man. Zayle was tall, blond, and endowed with enough

good looks to make up for the shortcomings of his

coworkers. Kirk decided Zayle's

qualifications were more in his muscles than in his

brains, but conceded those credentials were impressive.

"And my wife of three months, Cecilia

Simons." Simons, obviously accustomed

to making grand entrances, glided forward and

dropped her traveling cloak. It billowed to the

floor and spread into a puddle of plum and

crimson. Zayle scowled as he retrieved the

discarded garment. Simons was tall and slender, with

cascades of midnight-black hair that tumbled off

her shoulders. Her scarlet dress flickered as she

moved, and her feral sapphire eyes positively

glowed. She flowed across the room and extended her

arms to Kirk.

"But, Yonnie," she purred, "there's no need

to introduce me to Captain Kirk. Jimmy and I

are old friends."

Kirk stiffened as he recognized her.

Cecilia Simons? he thought. Is that what she's

calling herself these days? "It's been a long time . .

. Cecilia." But not nearly long enough, he added

savagely to himself. "I wasn't expecting to see

you."

"But I was expecting to see you." Her voice

throbbed with passion. "I couldn't wait when Yonnie

told me the ship we were traveling on was commanded by my

old friend."

I11 just bet. Kirk bit his tongue to keep from

saying the words aloud. He wondered what she wanted

that was worth such an act. To keep from thinking

about that now, he turned to Montoya. "Commissioner,

I'll have a yeoman show you to your quarters."

Montoya nodded. "Thank you very much, Captain.

My aides and I will wait for the Kaldorni, but my

wife wishes to get settled as soon as she can."

"Of course." Kirk issued the order and as they 6

waited for two crewmen to load the party's

luggage on an antigrav pad, he was aware of

Simons studying him. The calculating expression

on her face increased his apprehension.

As soon as Simons left, Rand transported

the first of the Kaldorni. Four bronze-skinned men

wearing full leather battle armor materialized.

Their lacquered and burnished brass chest plates and

arm pieces gleamed brightly. They carried a

vicious-looking knife in each hand. Kirk sized

up their tall, muscular frames, and thanked his

lucky stars they were from a low-gravity planet. In

a fight, the difference in gravity adaptations would

tip the battle against the Kaldorni.

"Would you mind explaining, Mr. Commissioner?"

Kirk pointed toward the Kaldorni and their drawn

knives. The sight of so much weaponry did nothing

to improve his feelings toward the mission.

"An honor guard, Captain. No

high-ranking Kaldorni travels anywhere without a

suitable escort." Montoya flashed Kirk

another of his wide smiles. "The knives are

purely for ornamental purposes."

Kirk scowled inwardly. The knives looked

extremely functional to him. He wondered what

other details had been omitted from the information Chen

had given him on the Kaldorni. "I hope you're

right," he grumbled under his breath.

The four Kaldorni came down the steps and lined

up facing the transporter pads. "Energize," one

ordered in a deep, strongly accented voice.

Kirk nodded to Rand.

The transporter whined and six Kaldorni

males, dressed in heavy, floor-length cloaks,

materialized. Beneath their cloaks, the diplomats

wore richly decorated robes made of brightly

colored fabrics. The guards clanged their

knives together above their heads, then knelt before the

Kaldorni ambassador. Their weapons sliced

forward in swift arcs and came to rest, crossed, at

the ambassador's feet.

The ambassador was short and heavy, with a round 7

face and full, sensuous lips. His gray eyes

seemed pale and colorless against his dark

skin. With his slightest movement, the ambassador's

ornate jewelry jangled. He gave Kirk the

impression of being someone who relished life

extravagantly.

Kirk spoke first. "I'm Captain James

T. Kirk. Welcome aboard the Enterprise. his

The Kaldorni ambassador nodded curtly and

one of his aides moved to his side.

"Ambassador n'Gelen 1'Stror Klee

accepts your welcome for himself and those who attend

him. I am the ambassador's mouthpiece,

k'Vlay t'Stror, and will speak his thoughts to you."

"The Kaldorni consider it improper for a person

of high rank to speak directly to a person of lower

rank," Montoya explained to Kirk.

"By definition, nonKaldorni are of inferior

rank until their actions prove otherwise."

Kirk scowled and nodded an acknowledgment. Had

Chen sent him anything of importance about these people? A

group of status-conscious diplomats was the last thing

he needed-or wanted-aboard the Enterprise! "The

ambassador requests that all nonessential

personnel please leave the room," t'Stror said.

"He wishes to bring his wives aboard now, and it is

not proper for an outworlder to look upon them."

As if searching for extra people, Kirk looked around

the transporter room. Satisfied that a troop of

Klingons had not beamed in while he was watching the

Kaldorni, Kirk replied, "The only people I

see are senior Federation representatives here

to welcome you. We're hardly "nonessential

personnel."" "It is not proper for an outworlder

to look upon the ambassador's wives," t'Stror

repeated. "You will all leave this room now."

Kirk swallowed a retort. Spinning on his

heel, he led McCoy and the Federation diplomats

from the room.

"This mission is starting to sound like trouble," 8

McCoy said as the door closed behind them. Kirk

gave the doctor a sharp look; McCoy's comment

echoed his own doubts.

"Would you explain this business of armed bodyguards

and not speaking to persons of "inferior rank'?"

Kirk made no attempt to hide his anger from

Montoya.

"It's just their way of doing things, Captain."

Montoya smiled. "Their culture is deeply

rooted in the militaristic traditions of their past.

The Kaldorni are extremely proud of preserving

their customs as they reorganize their

society to conform with the demands of the future. In this,

they are much like the Japanese in the seventeenth

century, if you remember your Earth history. I

think you'll really like them, once you get used to how

they do things."

Kirk's frown was skeptical. "And I have two

weeks to "get used to them," as you put it?"

"I'm certain it won't take that long,

Captain."

A work party appeared with an antigrav pad just as

the door opened. The six Kaldorni women were

bundled in dark cloaks and heavy veils; their

only visible features were their uniformly wide,

pale gray eyes. "Escort the ambassador and

his party to their quarters," Kirk ordered. A

dark-haired woman separated from the work party,

acknowledged the order, and started down the corridor

with the Kaldorni delegation. Kirk turned back

to Montoya. "If you're ready now, I'll have

someone show you to your quarters." He signaled for

another crewman.

"We would be most grateful, Captain."

"Then if you'll excuse me, Commissioner, I have

some business on the bridge."

"Of course, Captain."

By the time he reached the bridge, Kirk had

relaxed considerably, although he was still irritated at

the inadequate background material he had received.

He headed for the communications station. "Uhura, get

me Admiral Chen. I want to speak with her

immediately. I'll be in my quarters."

"Aye, aye, Captain." Uhura's reply

bounced off Kirk's retreating back. As he

entered his cabin, the intercom whistled. He palmed the

switch. "Kirk here." "I have Admiral Chen,

sir."

"Put her on." As Chen's face appeared, her

proud, stubborn bearing reminded Kirk of her

steely determination and indomitable will. Somehow, he

doubted that he would like her answers to his questions.

"Admiral, may I request additional information

on our present assignment?" "What would you like

to know, Captain?"

"The information you sent us completely lacks

pertinent sociological and cultural data on the

Kaldorni. We need more information if we are

to avoid seriously offending these people."

Chen's mouth twitched as if she were suppressing a

scowl. "Commissioner Montoya is perfectly

capable of supplying all the information you

require. However, to make the mission run more

smoothly, we have prepared a supplemental briefing

tape for you. It is being sent over with your Acting

First Officer, and should arrive shortly."

"Thank you, Admiral. By the way, who will be my

First Officer while Spock is on leave?"

Kirk hoped his question sounded casual. So far, his

attempts to find out whom he was getting had met with

no success, and he was beginning to feel extremely

frustrated.

Chen acted as if she had not heard the question.

"Captain, I cannot overemphasize the importance

of your mission. We believe someone is trying

to sabotage the negotiations between the Kaldorni and the

Beystohn League. Also, there may be a spy in the

ambassador's party. You must prevent anything from

disrupting these negotiations. The stability of this

quadrant depends on it."

"Admiral, may I point out that the Enterprise

is an exploratory vessel. We are not

properly equipped for this kind of diplomatic

assignment." "Objection noted." Chen started

to say more, then signaled to Kirk to wait. She

spoke at length with someone off screen. "Make that

confirmed, Captain," she said, turning

back to Kirk. "Base Security has just found a

body. It's Kaldorni, but we don't know yet

if we will be able to identify the individual. So

it's verified-there is a spy aboard your ship

masquerading as a member of Ambassador

Klee's party."

"I see, Admiral." Kirk gritted his

teeth. This mission was sliding down the disposal chute

in a big hurry. "I also want to talk to you about

Commissioner Montoya's wife. On an

assignment this sensitive, I do not feel my

officers should be distracted by having uninvolved

civilian passengers aboard. I request that

Ms. Simons be beamed back to base before we

break orbit."

Chen shook her head. "That's out of the question.

Commissioner Montoya insisted on having her

accompany him. In addition, she has a daughter

serving on the Enterprise. A lieutenant named

Whitehorse. You wouldn't want to deprive your

crewwoman of her mother's company, would you?" "I'm

sure she'd never forgive me." Kirk thought the

sarcasm in his voice was unmistakable, but Chen did

not react.

"If that's all, have a good day,

Captain. Chen out."

"Kirk out." He palmed the screen off and

slumped in his chair with a huge sigh of frustration.

"Lovely. Just lovely," he grumbled to himself.

Two weeks of being a shuttle jockey for an

ambassador who refused to speak to him; the

delicate chore of finding a spy and murderer among

said ambassador's staff; and, to top it off, no

escape from Cecilia Simons. McCoy's

prediction of trouble was starting to sound like a forecast for

radiation from a supernova. Kirk flipped on the

intercom; it was time to put out the blast warnings.

"Uhura, inform Geologist Whitehorse that her

mother is on board."

"Yes, sir. And, Captain, the transporter

room reports that the Acting First Officer has just

beamed aboard."

"Very well, Uhura. Have him report to my

quarters at once."

"Aye, aye, sir."

Within minutes, the door buzzer sounded. Kirk

looked up from the reports Spock had flagged for

him. "Come."

The door opened, revealing a short,

wiry man with a shock of bright red hair. The

newcomer paused in the doorway, his green eyes

twinkling like a mischievous leprechaun.

"Patrick!" Kirk bounded to his feet and

rushed to greet his old friend and classmate. Commander

Patrick Eugene Brady, his face split by an

ear-to-ear grin, swept Kirk into a bearhug.

"Patrick, how did you manage it?" Kirk

asked when he had recovered from the surprise. The

last Kirk had heard, Brady had been serving on

a small exploration vessel at the edge of

Federation space. The grapevine had said the

assignment was at least partly punitive-that

Brady's flair for practical jokes, second

at the Academy only to the legendary Finnegan,

had been the reason for his exile. The rumor went

on to say that Brady's scientific genius was all

STAR TREK - TOS - 51 - Enemy Unseen

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