“This is Commander Roil of the Praetor’s Vengeance to unknown vessel. You have entered Imperial space. You will drop from warp and prepare for boarding, or you will be destroyed.”
Kirk felt Joseph’s hand seek his, hold it tight. Kirk smiled at his son. “Nothing to worry about. That’s just how they say hello. Remember how we’ve talked about how the same words have different meanings to different people?”
“Like Klingons being rude?” Joseph said.
Kirk gave his son’s hand a squeeze. “The Klingons think we’re rude when we don’t get to the point as quickly and as bluntly as possible.” Then Kirk spoke to his bridge crew. “Jean-Luc, take us out of warp and drop all but navigational shields.”
The Calypso lurched and the stars on one of the other forward screens slowed, then stopped.
“Do they really not know who we are?” McCoy complained. “Or are they being obnoxious on purpose?”
“Standard Romulan military protocol,” Picard explained. “It doesn’t matter that they’ve been told a hundred times who we are and why we’re coming. Because we’re a civilian ship, until they’ve officially challenged us and we’ve acquiesced, we’re the enemy, and they maintain the right to blast us out of…” Picard abruptly stopped speaking, glanced back over his shoulder at Joseph. “Uh, the right to treat us harshly. Nothing to worry about, though.”
Kirk silently thanked Picard for his valiant attempt to avoid talking death and destruction around Joseph, but from the way Joseph gripped his hand, Picard’s efforts were too little, too late.
“Everything’s going to be fine,” Kirk whispered to his son. Then the forward screen with the map of the Neutral Zone flashed once to present a visual image of Commander Roil.
The Romulan was much younger than Kirk would have expected for his rank, likely a sign of the turmoil the Imperial Fleet was experiencing in the aftermath of the coup, so that only inexperienced officers untainted by the politics of a naval career remained eligible—and alive—for promotion. Picard had told Kirk that virtually the entire military diplomatic team Riker had opened talks with six months ago had been replaced. Some officers had apparently “retired” to farms on Romulus. Others, like Commander Donatra, who had helped save Picard’s Enterprise from Shinzon’s last, desperate attack, had simply disappeared from the diplomatic lists and the participants’ memories. No news of her whereabouts, or even continued existence, was available. For all the upheaval Romulan society had undergone in the past half-year, Romulan intrigue, it seemed, was alive and well.
“Identify yourself,” Roil commanded from the screen.
Kirk’s response to the Romulan’s threatening manner came from a lifetime of facing down belligerents. There was no fear, no hesitation, no indication that Kirk thought Roil was anything other than a speck of space dust to be pushed out of the way without thought.
“I’m James Kirk. This is my private vessel, the Calypso. If you do not already have that information, which has been provided to your Fleet command through several sources, and which is being broadcast by my navigational beacon, then may I assume that your communications systems are in disrepair and you require my assistance?”
Kirk saw the Romulan actually flinch at his insulting reply, a sign of his inexperience. But he quickly recovered, a sign of his expert training.
“The Imperial Fleet is well aware of the ship and crew the Federation claims is to visit our space. We are also well aware of the spies and enemies who would seek to capitalize on the empire’s generous permission for that ship and crew to continue their journey in Romulan space. You will now drop all shields and allow your vessel to be scanned.”
Everyone on the lower deck of the bridge looked back at Kirk, except for Picard.
“Lower shields,” Kirk said.
It was time to find out how well Starfleet had managed to disguise the presence of the Calypso’s distributed phaser system, overpowered warp engine, and other hidden armaments.
“We’re being scanned,” La Forge announced.
“Aye,” Scotty confirmed. “Nothin’ special. Single sweep…och, they’re boosting power on the engine room. Comin’ back for another scan.”
Kirk betrayed nothing, knowing that even though the sound from his bridge was not being transmitted, his image was. A powerful warp engine on a small private ship could be easily explained. The ship’s sophisticated weapons could not.
“Sweep is complete,” La Forge said.
On a forward screen, Commander Roil looked over to the side, obviously listening to a report from his own bridge crew, whose voices were also blocked from transmission. Then he settled back in his chair, and Kirk could sense that the Romulan was controlling his reaction to what the sensor sweep had discovered as much as Kirk had controlled his own.
“Your warp engine seems outsized for such a small vessel,” Roil said.
“Life is short,” Kirk replied, making it seem as if he were annoyed by this interruption. “I prefer to spend as little of it as possible traveling between destinations.”
Roil considered that statement for several long moments, then seemed to reach a decision. “Understandable.” Another one of his bridge crew, unseen except for a single arm, handed Roil a small green padd that appeared to be badly scuffed. He read it, then spoke again. “Mister Kirk, you and your vessel will remain at these coordinates until your escort arrives to take you the rest of the way.”
Kirk didn’t have to feign annoyance as he responded. “Our charts are up to date. I don’t need an escort to Romulus.”
Roil stared across space, from his bridge’s visual sensors to Kirk’s screen, as if he didn’t care what Kirk needed. “No,” the Romulan enigmatically agreed. “You don’t need an escort to Romulus. And none will be provided.” He held up a hand, about to give an order. “Fair warning. If you leave these coordinates, you will be destroyed.” He brought his hand down, and the communication ended, his image instantly replaced by the schematic of the Neutral Zone boundary, showing the Praetor’s Vengeance withdrawing at warp speed.
“Does anyone know what he was talking about?” McCoy muttered. “We’re supposed to wait for an escort they’re not providing?”
“There are still three more Romulan ships approaching,” Picard reminded everyone on the bridge. According to the schematic, the warbirds were only a few minutes away from rendezvous, well within subspace range. “We could be witnessing the results of fractured lines of communication within the Fleet. But I believe it’s more likely that we’re being subjected to some type of test.”
Kirk had been thinking the same, but had one key objection. “Jean-Luc, the way we’re being treated doesn’t play like typical Romulan tactics. At least, not the kind I’m familiar with. It’s almost…” Kirk shrugged, tried to think of a species this pattern of delay and obfuscation might fit. “I don’t know…Tholian?”
“This Commander Roil’s attitude is certainly unusual,” Picard agreed. “But then, these are unusual times for the empire.” He turned in his chair to look back at Kirk. “However, this is your mission, and your call.”
Kirk grinned. “I’m supposed to ignore the advice of a captain of the Enterprise?”
“I haven’t given any advice,” Picard said.
“I know how to read between the lines, Jean-Luc. We’ll hold this position. But raise navigational shields.”
Picard nodded and with a faint hum of circuitry, the navigational forcefields were reestablished, offering the ship protection from random dust and the occasional molecule of interstellar hydrogen, but not from weaponry.
Kirk felt a tug on his shirt, looked down at his son. “Are we in trouble again?” Joseph asked in a quiet voice.
Kirk shook his head, and hoped Joseph could sense his lack of concern over their present situation. “The Romulans have special rules for visiting their space, and we don’t know all of them. So we’re just going to wait until we find out more about what rules we have to follow.”
Joseph accepted that, nodded sagely. “And then you’ll figure out how to change them,” the youngster said.
Kirk heard the echoes of someone else’s words coming through his son, reminding him of the time Joseph had spent several weeks with the learning programs in the holosuites on Deep Space 9. The dabo girls working
