Part 21 (2/2)
”We now know that the Red Matter device is on board the small s.h.i.+p in the main hangar-and as you can see, I have also located Captain Pike.”
Kirk tried to will his vision to clarify the image on the screen, to no avail. ”Is he alive?”
Spock tuned a couple of inputs. The details they supplied were extraneous and immaterial. ”Unknown. This is the cargo bay, and we only have access here to minimal visualizations, not medical information.”
Kirk nodded. ”Let's move.”
As the science officer turned from the Romulan console, he nodded in the direction of the still-unconscious half-dozen crew members. One was covered in green blood.
”They will begin to recover within a short time.”
”Doesn't matter.” Kirk lengthened his stride. ”A short time is all we've got. A short time is all everyone on Earth has got. Either we resolve this fast or it won't matter.” He smiled thinly. ”It's the Matter that matters now.”
This time the vastness of the Narada Narada worked to their advantage. worked to their advantage.
Only once did they encounter members of the crew. Having no reason to believe intruders might be aboard, and with their own transporter intentionally disabled to prevent any enemy from potentially making forcible use of it (there being no reason to suspect any Federation vessel in this time frame capable of transwarp beaming), Kirk and Spock managed to avoid being seen before continuing on their way.
Resting in the huge main hangar alongside Captain Pike's shuttlecraft, the strange Vulcan vessel sat open and unguarded. The two officers nevertheless boarded cautiously, not allowing themselves to relax until they stood in the forward cabin. Searching the interior, Kirk was reminded of what Spock had said only moments earlier about utilizing intuition to fill in the blanks in one's knowledge. Because of his studies at the Academy, the basics of Vulcan flight technology were almost as familiar to Kirk as to the science officer. The panel he was looking for should be...there.
Sure enough, as soon as he hit the intuited place on the most likely console, a friendly voice responded in basic Vulcan. On command it switched to Federation Standard and repeated what it had said.
”Voice print, face, pheromone, body density, and retinal recognition a.n.a.lysis enabled.”
Taking a step back, Kirk gestured to his companion. ”Spock, you'll be piloting the s.h.i.+p alone.”
The science officer had been studying the extensive command layout intently. ”Which may be problematic. While I recognize, as did you, certain essential instrumentation, I have to confess that I am unfamiliar with this particular vessel's design and construction.”
Responding to his voice, the s.h.i.+p immediately sent a scan playing across his features. Other less visible security instruments took note of everything from his height to the color of his eyes to his general respiration. It all took only a couple of seconds.
”Access granted, Amba.s.sador Spock. All s.h.i.+p functions are now at your disposal.”
Kirk's exaggerated exclamation of surprise did nothing to fool the Vulcan.
”Wow, what a coincidence, huh? Weird.”
It took a moment for the science officer to make certain mental connections. Amba.s.sador Amba.s.sador Spock, the s.h.i.+p had called him. ”You'll be piloting the s.h.i.+p alone,” Kirk had insisted. Vulcan intuition was applicable to more than just instrumentation. Spock, the s.h.i.+p had called him. ”You'll be piloting the s.h.i.+p alone,” Kirk had insisted. Vulcan intuition was applicable to more than just instrumentation.
”Computer,” he asked, ”what is your manufacturing origin and date of commission?”
The s.h.i.+p replied without delay. ”Stardate twenty-three eighty-seven, commissioned by the Vulcan Science Academy under special emergency declaration twelve-oh-eight.” ”Stardate twenty-three eighty-seven, commissioned by the Vulcan Science Academy under special emergency declaration twelve-oh-eight.”
Spock digested this, then turned to Kirk. ”It appears you've been keeping rather important information from me.”
Kirk repressed a grin. ”You're just going to have to trust me, Mister Spock. Can you do that?”
”Once again you ask for trust. For a deceiving stowaway who advanced in short order from the would-be instigator of a near-mutiny to becoming acting captain of the same vessel, you certainly ask for a lot of trust.”
Kirk could no longer hold back a smile. ”I'm not the shy type.”
Spock considered this, then nodded thoughtfully. ”While I attempt to engage with this vessel, I presume you are going to try and find Captain Pike.”
Kirk shrugged, as if what Spock had just surmised was the most natural thing in the world. ”He told me to come and get him. Just following orders. Like I always do.”
The science officer seemed ready to say something else, but every considered comment took time, and time was the one commodity of which they were running short. With a last nod he settled himself into the command seat and resumed his detailed examination of the strange instrumentation. This console should activate the engines, that one communications, the one next to it was new to him but he felt he could puzzle it out, the next...
He could have departed sooner, but he had to wait until Kirk had enough time to exit the hangar-or at least until his fellow officer had moved beyond the nearest blast airlock door. When he felt that sufficient time had pa.s.sed, he began moving his hands over the gleaming, futuristic cabin controls. A few of the elements that sprang to life were unfamiliar to him. But not those that controlled the impulse engine.
Detecting a rising hum where there should have been only silence, a contingent of crew conversed briefly among themselves before advancing in the direction of the captured Vulcan craft. Unlike their now semiconscious comrades lying in the cargo bay, this group was armed. As they approached the now internally illuminated vessel, they cautiously drew their sidearms. While it was impossible for any enemy to have boarded the Narada, Narada, there was no reason to take chances. Perhaps the captain was running a drill, in which case their need to respond appropriately was self-evident. Or possibly a distraught comrade had finally given in to an overwhelming desire to try and return home, even if only by himself. there was no reason to take chances. Perhaps the captain was running a drill, in which case their need to respond appropriately was self-evident. Or possibly a distraught comrade had finally given in to an overwhelming desire to try and return home, even if only by himself.
Soon the leader of the squad was near enough to the Vulcan s.h.i.+p to see that someone was indeed sitting in the forward cabin-someone far too sallow to pa.s.s muster as even the most pallid Romulan. Shouts and sidearms arose simultaneously as the Vulcan craft lifted from the deck. Someone pulled their comm unit and started to shout the alarm.
At the same time, and in lieu of wasting precious moments hunting for the appropriate Romulan command to cease and desist, Spock let loose with the s.h.i.+p's weapons. They opened an exit just as effectively as any hangar command, though with considerably more noise and accompanying destruction. The unfortunate members of the patrolling contingent followed the phaser-shattered airlock doors out into open s.p.a.ce.
Blown apart, large sections of the hangar doors were flung outward. They were followed closely by the now fully activated Vulcan craft. Growing more and more familiar with the s.h.i.+p's instrumentation with every pa.s.sing moment, Spock swooped in and out among the Narada' Narada's superstructure, firing at close range from within the protective diameter of her defensive s.h.i.+elds.
A human would have rocked the fore cabin with jubilant shouts while inflicting such devastation on an enemy. Spock went about the business of disabling the Romulan vessel with surgical silence and precision.
On the Narada' Narada's bridge, chaos and confusion had without warning taken the place of the previous air of satisfaction. As the s.h.i.+p shook around him, the fl.u.s.tered helmsman reported one const.i.tuent failure after another.
”Primary core damage! Warp engines are off-line! Multiple decks report loss of life support. Automatic shutdowns continue to multiply and engage!”
Nero had bolted erect in the command chair to gape at his officers.
”How!?”
A response came from tactical. ”Someone has detonated weapons in the main hangar! And”-the disbelief was plain in his voice-”we appear to be under attack!”
”How can we be under attack?” Furious and confused, Nero felt suddenly disoriented. ”Our s.h.i.+elds are up and there are no Federation stars.h.i.+ps within pa.r.s.ecs!”
The tactical officer stared at his readouts, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.
”Apparently we are being fired on by a small craft that has somehow materialized inside inside our s.h.i.+elds. Yet no such vessel was detected approaching. It just...appeared.” He looked blankly at his captain. our s.h.i.+elds. Yet no such vessel was detected approaching. It just...appeared.” He looked blankly at his captain.
”Nothing just 'appears'!” Nero roared. ”Identify the attacker and prepare to engage.” He s.h.i.+fted his attention to engineering and science. ”Restore full power! Engage auxiliary systems!”
Impossible, he told himself as the he told himself as the Narada Narada continued to tremble and quake. They were under attack from the impossible. continued to tremble and quake. They were under attack from the impossible.
Which iteration rendered the damage that was being inflicted on his s.h.i.+p no less real for the unlikelihood with which he was investing it.
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