Part 11 (2/2)

Pike's smile was grim. ”While I'm gone we need to maintain the chain of command.” He nodded toward Spock. ”And you two make a swell team.”

If Kirk was stunned, Spock was almost beyond words.

”Captain. Please. I apologize, but the complexities of human pranks escape me. Especially those that are perpetrated at times plainly devoid of anything resembling humor.”

Pike lost his smile. ”This isn't a prank, Mister Spock. And I'm not the captain-you are.”

”If we knock off-” Kirk stopped himself, started again. ”When ”When we knock off the drill-sir, what happens to you? You'll be stuck on the Romulan s.h.i.+p and they won't be any too happy about what we've done.” we knock off the drill-sir, what happens to you? You'll be stuck on the Romulan s.h.i.+p and they won't be any too happy about what we've done.”

By way of reply Pike offered a wry grin. ”I guess you'll have to come get me.” Focusing especially on Spock he moved out in advance of them to check on the shuttle preparations. ”Careful with the s.h.i.+p while I'm gone-she's new.”

Exactly the kind of comment a soldier in the field would make, Kirk thought admiringly. No wonder everyone in the fleet had wanted to be a.s.signed to the Kirk thought admiringly. No wonder everyone in the fleet had wanted to be a.s.signed to the Enterprise. Enterprise. The opportunity to serve under a captain like Christopher Pike was as much a reason for desiring a transfer as was the newness of the s.h.i.+p. If he ever found himself in command in a similar situation, would he have the b.a.l.l.s to respond like that? The opportunity to serve under a captain like Christopher Pike was as much a reason for desiring a transfer as was the newness of the s.h.i.+p. If he ever found himself in command in a similar situation, would he have the b.a.l.l.s to respond like that?

At the rate he was progressing, he told himself, a command was the last thing he was ever likely to have to worry about. Almost as likely as making an accurate s.p.a.ce drop to a thin metal disk hanging by a thread from the enemy s.h.i.+p. A continent-now that that he knew he could hit successfully. He regarded his fellow drop-mates. It would be hard to imagine better companions for such an undertaking than a s.h.i.+p's chief engineer and her helmsman. Though he had pulled off such jumps in simulations, Kirk decided his best option was to stick as close to Sulu as possible. If anyone could angle an accurate drop, it would be a s.h.i.+p's helmsman. he knew he could hit successfully. He regarded his fellow drop-mates. It would be hard to imagine better companions for such an undertaking than a s.h.i.+p's chief engineer and her helmsman. Though he had pulled off such jumps in simulations, Kirk decided his best option was to stick as close to Sulu as possible. If anyone could angle an accurate drop, it would be a s.h.i.+p's helmsman.

Pike called back to them. ”Suit up, gentlemen. I hope none of you has a particular fear of heights.”

”Yes, sir,” Kirk responded. If any of his companions did suffer from acrophobia, a free-fall s.p.a.ce drop would either cure the affliction or finish off the afflicted.

This time when Spock entered the bridge he was aware that the stares directed his way were backed by a new respect. He had neither the time nor the inclination to revel in his temporary promotion. Such time-wasting vanity was the province of humans, and he had no time to spare. Taking the command chair, he activated the intercom for medical.

”Doctor Puri, this is Acting Captain Spock. Report.”

Shaking slightly, the hand of Leonard McCoy slapped down on a wall panel to acknowledge the call. Around him swirled a sea of blood, confusion, protruding bones, exposed organs, tendons dangling like dark strings, and a dedicated but overwhelmed coterie of medical personnel struggling to put it all back into its proper place despite missing supplies and dysfunctional equipment.

”McCoy here. Doctor Puri's dead. In lieu of orders I've been doing what I can.”

Spock's expression tightened ever so imperceptibly. ”Then you have just inherited his responsibilities as Chief Medical Officer, Doctor McCoy. Prepare all bays for ma.s.s triage.”

”Aye, sir-I've already instigated procedures on all decks to...”

The science officer interrupted him. ”I am not concerned with internal operations, Doctor, as I am confident you by now have them well in hand. We must prepare ourselves for a possible influx of refugees from Vulcan.”

McCoy hesitated before replying. ”Our facilities are stretched to the limit right now, Commander.”

”Get the less seriously wounded back on duty as quickly as possible, Doctor. Try to make some room.”

McCoy ground his teeth. Behind him, the unsedated were moaning and occasionally screaming. ”I'll do the best I can-sir.” Though it was the acting captain's place to terminate the transmission, the doctor was the one who cut it off. There were lives to be saved and bodies to be made whole again and he had no time to debate the logic of what he needed to do. If ”Acting Captain” Spock objected, he could file a formal complaint with Starfleet Medical Operations when they got back to Earth.

The Vulcan had called for ma.s.s triage. McCoy was fine with that. He had every intention of prioritizing.

With the aid of shuttlebay technicians, the three men struggled into the semiflexible dropsuits. Lightweight and fas.h.i.+oned of special composites nearly impervious to heat, the suits would keep them from turning into slender human-shaped cinders as they made the plunge into Vulcan's atmosphere.

At least, Kirk told himself as he waited for a tech to hand him his helmet, that was how it worked in Academy simulations.

Where a suitable planetary surface was available and shuttle or transporter was not, s.p.a.ce drop was designed to provide a final opportunity to escape a fatally crippled s.h.i.+p. It was strictly a last-gasp maneuver, akin to jumping off a sinking watercraft with nothing more than an antique life preserver. Everything they would need to survive the drop was integrated into the suits. A gleeful Olson took responsibility for the powerful charges that would be used to destroy the drill housing once they landed on it.

Kirk found the engineer's excitement incomprehensible. He himself could be jaunty on occasion, but not when embarking on an outing where there was a very good chance they were all going to die. He did not voice his concerns, however.

He couldn't help but wonder: if they were successful, would he be allowed to continue to serve on the Enterprise Enterprise?

Survive first, he told himself. he told himself. Worry about commendations later. Worry about commendations later.

The techs worked fast. Final checkout was hasty but thorough. Coolant control-on. Intersuit communications activated-check. Chute deployment and adjustment systems-they would find out real soon. Carrying their helmets, they hurried to board the waiting shuttle.

As they took their seats, Kirk could see that Olson was grinning as if he was going on a ski trip.

”This is great!” the engineer declared ecstatically. ”Isn't this great?”

”Yes-great.” Sulu did not smile as he leaned back into the padding of his launch seat. His expression was in complete denial of his words.

”I am pumped,” Olson continued, ”to kick some Romulan a.s.s a.s.s!”

Kirk did manage a smile. It was just as well the engineer, chief or not, was unable to see what he was thinking. Turning away from the engineer, Kirk turned to his other companion.

”So-what kind of advanced combat training do you have?”

”Fencing,” Sulu informed him proudly.

Kirk nodded slowly to himself. ”Uh-huh, right-fencing. That's-great.”

Up in the c.o.c.kpit and away from his pa.s.sengers, Pike was running through departure procedures. He had delayed as long as he felt able. In fact, he was more than a little surprised that this Nero had not already contacted the Enterprise Enterprise or fired a warning shot. or fired a warning shot.

He must want to interview me really badly, Pike thought to himself. With luck, the conversation would not be entirely one-sided. He stole a glance at a small monitor. It showed the three dropsuited men seated in the shuttle's pa.s.senger compartment. His men. He wanted-he Pike thought to himself. With luck, the conversation would not be entirely one-sided. He stole a glance at a small monitor. It showed the three dropsuited men seated in the shuttle's pa.s.senger compartment. His men. He wanted-he needed needed-them to succeed. But that wasn't all.

He also wanted them to come back.

”Hold on. Preparing for departure.” His hands worked the instruments. It had been a long time since he had flown a shuttle. Usually one was provided for him, together with an escort and a pilot. As the small craft rose from the deck and atmosphere was exhausted from the bay, Pike was pleased at how quickly the necessary command and maneuvering instructions came back to him. Being a stars.h.i.+p captain was all very well and good, but you never really got to ”fly” a s.h.i.+p. The helmsman did that, and the science officer, and the s.h.i.+p's computer and advanced instrumentation.

The shuttlebay doors opened in front of him. He leaned on the appropriate instruments and the little vessel darted obediently forward. It was good to be in control of flight again.

Even if the circ.u.mstances that had provided the opportunity were less than promising.

Trying to be as un.o.btrusive as possible in the course he had chosen, Pike sent the shuttle speeding toward the enormous alien vessel in as wide an arc as he dared. Minutes ticked away without any response or comment from the Narada. Narada. If he was not challenged he would be able to strike the bottom of an arc above the optimum drop point. The men undertaking the incredibly tricky mission would have one chance and one only to hit the drop precisely. Once clear of the shuttle their commitment would be irrevocable. If he was not challenged he would be able to strike the bottom of an arc above the optimum drop point. The men undertaking the incredibly tricky mission would have one chance and one only to hit the drop precisely. Once clear of the shuttle their commitment would be irrevocable.

Ahead he could see multiple metallic threads twining into one. An enormous spiny cable descended from the belly of the alien craft toward the yellow-brown world below. Far below he could just make out the white-hot whirlwind of plasma being emitted by the drill platform. The captain had set out on as inconspicuous a parabolic course as possible and thus far the Romulans had not reacted negatively. Would the arc he had plotted be deep enough? He made minute adjustments to course and speed, trying to slow as much as possible without attracting undue attention. Delicately he trimmed att.i.tude to rotate the shuttle so that its fuselage would be aligned between the Narada Narada and the preselected drop angle. and the preselected drop angle.

Within the aft bay a Klaxon sounded. Helmets were donned and twisted into place, each man checking his neighbor's seal. As soon as they were locked each suit automatically pressurized. Internal instrumentation would preserve proper atmosphere, humidity, and pressure as long as suit integrity remained intact. If any one of those critical life-support components failed, Kirk knew, it probably wouldn't matter because the suit's occupant would be dead before he realized it.

As they rose from their seats, they checked each other's joints for leaks or unsecured gear. In front of them a port revealed the panorama outside. Beyond lay star field and, below, the surface of Vulcan. Kirk found himself wis.h.i.+ng for the brilliant blue and white gleam of Earth. He could see at a glance how such a stark landscape could give rise to a personality as cold as that of the s.h.i.+p's overbearing science officer. A moment later there was no more time for sightseeing.

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