Well, this was written a number of years ago and only just now to upload it to ff.net As usual, standard disclaimers apply.
Another explosion. Emergency lights dimmed... Then winked off completely. Before anyone had a chance to recover their bearings, another shockwave barreled through the already badly wounded starship. Screams and cries... and orders barked out with determined desperation -- all fought with the roar of undamped flames and hissing showers of sparks. The captain didn't need a status report. He knew there was nothing left. Nothing but death for him and his crew. Gyrating firelight and unsteady console lights gave the bridge a weird illumination. Beneath his jacket, the captain's shirt was wet and sticky with blood from a wound he didn't want to acknowledge. He felt more of the fluid trickling down the side of his face. He didn't feel any pain, but that was because of the natural rush of endorphines. It could run out any time. And so could he. He hated just waiting for death. It wasn't right! He should have been able to prevent this disaster!
"Sir, I think our last transmission got through --!"
Captain Pavel Chekov nodded at the yelled report. So, at least Starfleet might know their fate. Unprovoked attack by unknown assailants who could fire while cloaked...! No power. Shields malfunctioned, weapons systems failed -- suspect sabotage -- (He more than suspected it, he needed no more proof than that these malfunctions had occurred on his ship!) -- The artificial gravity flexed as another phaser barrage struck the helpless starship. The roll unbalanced him, Chekov staggered into his chair.
Desperate for some scheme to rescue his crew and ship, all he could think of was that Captain Kirk would have found a way. And Captain Chekov had not. And so his ship and his crew were going to die.
He saw them die --
Space can seem boundless and lonely between star systems. Nothing but parsec after parsec of apparent emptiness decorated with infinitely distant pinpricks of light. On Excelsior's main viewscreen a dark patch obscured a portion of those far off suns. The dark patch was a nearly powerless starship drifting without will, merely obeying the laws of Newtonian mechanics.
"She looks dead," the Navigator murmured in hushed tones.
"She's not," Captain Sulu's deep voice reminded the officer. They had made contact over an hour ago. Not that that had helped anything. The ambushed starship's communications system was erratic and apparently so was her crew. Sulu glanced back at his own communications officer. "How're they doing Tomyn?"
"They're desperate sir. they -- ah. A Lt. Commander Motz wishes to speak with you."
"On scr--"
"Audio only, sir."
Sulu nodded; waited a beat for Tomyn's signal, "Captain Sulu here, commander. What happened? Where's your captain and first officer?"
"We - we were attacked. good God -- no provocation, no warning -- we don't even know who they are much less why they did this!" Hysteria tinted the male voice.
"Why didn't you defend--?"
"We tried! Lord, how we tried! Everything - everything went haywire! Look we need help. We got a lot of wounded. Our sickbay -- it - it's a shambles. Dr. Reyes is dead..." The voice trembled to silence.
"We are prepared to receive your wounded," Sulu told him. And feeling like a heel added,"I hate to go into this now, but you have to know, we do have to make an investigation."
"I understand sir."
"Good. I'll let you speak with transporter chief Whitefeather."
"Thank you sir." The voice really did sound relieved.
"Rand, you have the conn. Be alert."
"Aye Captain." Janice Rand nodded grimly. she'd seen disasters before. They were none of them to be taken lightly. she wasn't about to let anything like that happen to this ship.
Sulu found the transporter bay almost clogged with Excelsior'smedical personnel and their more portable equipment. He caught his CMO's eye and started over to her. "What are we getting, Deborah?"
"Ninety-two seriously injured Hikaru. Bunch more that claim they can wait. I'm going on what their nurses told me." Chief Medical Officer Deborah Levesque grimaced, her unlined olive features suddenly seeming aged. "Thirteen deaths. One of them was their doctor, Mauricio Reyes. We interned together."
"I'm sorry."
"Later. I don't have time for that now." She gathered her grief and trundled it off to be dealt with at another time. The first of the wounded were being beamed over, all her concern had to be for them.
While his CMO and her staff worked, Sulu waited in the background, standing next to the transporter chief and staying out of the way. Only eight of the ninety-two were conscious but even they were in no condition to be questioned. Nonetheless, Captain Sulu remained to watch the medical team at their work.
The intercom chimed softly, "Bridge to Captain."
"Sulu here."
"Lt. Commander Motz again."
"Pipe it through."
"Aye sir."
"Captain Sulu?" The voice was unsteady.
"Commander, we have received your wounded. I'd like to offer to send over damage control teams to assist your recovery."
"Yes. We could use the help."
"I take it you've assumed command."
"I'm the only one left. The Captain... I guess he's dead--"
The lump appeared in in Sulu's throat. His jaws clenched tightly around the emotion. When Pavel hadn't been among the wounded he'd tried not to think of it, but there was no avoiding it now. But... "You guess?"
"Sir, we - we haven't found his body yet. Commanders Levy and Savati are among the wounded. That leaves me."
"I see. We need to talk, commander. I'll be beaming over with the first DC party."
"Aye sir. Thank you."
Sulu kept the com engaged. "Tomyn, assemble the repair teams." The bay was emptying as the medics and the last of their patients relocated to sickbay. this was bad, no doubt about it. It had been a while since he'd seen such gruesome devastation. He mentally cringed at what he imagined the starship Mir herself must look like. Damn, Pavel, how could you let this happen? He recalled how elated his friend had been to receive the command. The Mir was by no means as large or as grand a ship as the Excelsior, but she was special. Full of the latest in AI, fast, strong, and requiring less than two-thirds the crew of similar ships. God, not M5 all over again. A sickening dread swelled from the pit of his stomach. No, he rebuked his own illogical supposition. Of course not; nothing like that. Mir's AI was not capable of independent action or thought.
Ambush. Sabotage. According to the last messages received, that's what Chekov had concluded. But who was behind it? No one had claimed responsibility; the Admiralty hadn't a clue...
As promised, Hikaru Sulu transported to the smaller ship with the first team. Despite his experiences with other disasters, he was taken aback by the devastation that greeted his arrival. The bitter stench of seared equipment, furnishings, and even bulkheads, permeated the air. smoke still drifted from ducts and dead, twisted arrangements of useless equipment, the emergency lighting seemed unusually dim and eerie. Voices drifted with the smoke, angry and frustrated that this should have happened to them. Still they worked valiantly to salvage their ship.
Sulu caught at a passing engineering tech whose white e-suit was covered with soot and grime and blood. "Where can I find Commander Motz?"
"I --"
"Right here." A silhouette that just missed being imposing moved toward Sulu.
"Thank you," Sulu dismissed the tech who nodded and scurried off to whatever business had led him this way in the first place. Sulu waited patiently until he could make out the Commander's grim features. "Commander Motz."
"Yes, Captain Sulu. That's me... You said... we have to talk." Motz sighed. "I know what you want. You want to know what happened. Lord! So do I!"
"Is there anyplace less busy...?" Sulu's small gesture encompassed the whole buzzing room.
"Yes... The arboretum." His voice was soft, almost reticent as he invited, "This way, sir."
Sulu kept pace with him following his lead by saying nothing as they hiked through cluttered hallways. The arboretum was... well, disaster was not nearly a strong enough word to describe the dull grey heaps of ash and rubble. The only indication that this place had housed any plants at all was the singed stump of a once brilliantly orange-red Ka!Tani tree. Hearing a small, distressed sound from Motz, he turned. Tears were running down the man's face.
"My sister was a botanist. She... made this place special..."
"She-?"
"She was one of the thirteen killed."
"I'm sorry." That explained a lot. That the man was still functioning impressed Sulu. He must be -- have been -- one of Chekov's best officers.
"Thanks." Motz sighed. "How do you want to begin?" He went to a stone bench that had suffered nothing more damaging than a chip broken off one corner. Absently, his hand brushed at the ashen coating.
"You were attacked. Tell me about that."
Motz shrugged. "We were headed to the research station at Temulku, you know, the archeological site maintained by the Vulcan Science Academy. Way out at nowhere. Uh... There wasn't any warning. This phaser shot came out of nowhere. Right on target! Captain ordered shields up; they kept hitting us! No evasive maneuver worked! We couldn't see them!" His hands clenched into fists.
"Did you fire any of your weapons?" Sulu asked as gently as he could.
"Yes. We tried. Two photon torpedoes exploded just as they left their bays. Phasers -- just sat there. I couldn't get them to fire! Shields dropped -- they should have held! I heard the helmsman report her controls were down. Captain sent a message. He thought there'd been sabotage. They kept at us. And then, just when I thought we were sure to buy it, they stopped." He stared helplessly at Captain Sulu. "Just like that! They stopped. For all I know they're still out there. Waiting for you..."
"They didn't communicate --?"
Motz gave a derisive snort. "I'd say they used their weapons as their mouthpiece."
"They gave no reason for their attack."
"None, sir."
"And their weapons?"
"Conventional. You know, it's really galling. We should have been able to take them. Even if they were cloaked. We've done it before."
"Yes. The Romulan attack on Borauch. I heard about that."
"I think the Captain was right. We were sabotaged."
"Have you found his body yet?"
"No not yet." He looked, if possible, even more grim and a little apologetic, "I can't worry about it though. The living need my concern first."
"Indeed." Sulu wanted to hate himself for agreeing. But the man's priorities were exactly the ones Chekov would have wanted. "I'll let you get back to that in a minute. First I'd like to have the ship's logs."
"I figured you would. Won't help much. The computer stopped recording around the time the shields went down."
Hikaru Sulu stifled a growl. He'd watched the whole incident replayed, unaware of his fingers digging into the arms of his chair. He hated it. He hated seeing Pavel fail so horribly to save his crew and ship. The worst thing about it was that he should have succeeded! Sulu almost wished he had been there. But even his piloting skills would not have helped. The ship behaved contrarily, responding with uncharacteristic malevolence. The moment the shields had dropped he knew Chekov's conclusion was a valid one; the only one possible. Nothing else but sabotage could account for this catastrophe. The logs ended there. He had only hearsay to fill in the rest.
"Oh Pavel," he mourned, and without wanting to, saw his friend as he'd first met him; an intense, driven kid just out of the Academy who hid his shyness and insecurity behind a façade of reckless bravado. Dammit! I'll get them! Pavel, I swear I will! Hikaru shocked himself when his fist slammed down on his desktop. Thankfully he was alone in his quarters where none could observe his outburst.
He saw them die. Through an unwavering and blinding illumination, he saw his ship being ripped apart. he heard their screams. He saw them die. God! He should have been there with them! It was his obligation to die with them if he couldn't save them! Cowards! he railed at his hidden abductors. They'd beamed him off the bridge just before the end... Murderers! Show yourselves!
No one and nothing answered him. Nor were any questions put to him.
Not that he'd have answered them.
An explosion's shockwave rattled the ship...
Why am I here? What do you want? Where is here?! Hell. He almost laughed. he didn't believe in hell. But surely this would do; this frigid, static explosion of brilliance sucking the heat from his body, this assault of his mind with reiterations of the hundreds of deaths he had not prevented. So cold; so bright; his eyes burned from the avalanche of sub-zero novae. He squeezed them shut but it made no difference. It was still painfully bright and the images remained. He felt nothing of whatever bonds held him floating within the core of this heatless sun. The only sensation that proved he was not dead and the butt of some horrible cosmic joke was a constant constricting ache in his upper arms and shoulders resulting from the awkward way they had been pulled back and up behind him. He thought he might be able to alleviate the pain a little.
They were screaming...
He tried to twist his fingers around whatever rope or chain suspended him. His palms slid over cold, razor sharp blades. He gasped and recoiled. The same burning ice slashed down his side; across the backs of his legs -- He jerked away and more of them slid into him. They were everywhere and he couldn't see --! Stop moving! His body jerked and trembled as he forced himself to stiffened stillness. He let his body fall into whatever position had been designed for him.
The ship exploded in vacuum's silence, hurtling its remains outwards. Cold fiery death took his crew again.
What was the purpose of this imprisonment and torture? There had to be a purpose -- didn't there? Of course, of course. 'I won't cooperate' -- he didn't have the strength to whisper, much less shout out such defiance. He didn't even know what or who he was defying.
An explosion ripped through...
James T. Kirk still commanded from the center seat of the starship Enterprise. But they rarely saw the kind of action they had once done too many years ago. He was a Fleet Captain. The half-hearted gesture of respect for an aging officer whom politics could neither disown nor promote. sometimes the position was more bureaucracy than substance and then he wouldn't have minded giving it back. But the power was real. He was the captain of the Enterprise. Even if it sometimes seemed like he spent more time in Starfleet meetings than engaged in Starfleet exploration.
The incident involving the Mir had captured his attention. It was so damned odd an attack! An attack that cut off just short of total annihilation; by an invisible and unknown enemy that did not make any claims. It was far easier to deduce who it was not. Not the Klingons, they still needed Federation assistance too much. Not the Romulans, the region of space in question was far distant from any that interested them. The Orions? No, they didn't -- couldn't -- have that kind of technology! Dismissing all the Federation's known enemies left a conclusion no one wanted to deal with; someone unknown. Good God! Kirk had groaned to himself as he listened to the report on his monitor, yet another power player!
Without needing to be asked, Captain Sulu had been sending him complete reports on the incident and his investigation of it. Sulu was a good friend and a more than competent captain. So Kirk had been content to stay out of the younger man's way. But things had suddenly changed. And not just because Sulu might have reached an impasse. Starfleet still hesitated on the decision of whether or not the still missing captain of the Mir had been negligent. By everything Sulu had found, they'd have to decide he was not. That meant they'd have to consider Chekov's suspicions of sabotage to be valid. And perpetrated on behalf of an unknown and extremely dangerous enemy.
That Sulu had been forced to admit that there was probably nothing more to be learned at the site was not, however, what had the Enterprise rushing through space at warp 8. It was the mysterious challenge that had found its way into Kirk's computer mailbox that precipitated this dash. The message was untraceable; a feat requiring as complete an understanding of Starfleet communications security as few people were capable of having. Or a link that would be dangerous to allow to remain unchecked. The message had been coded but Kirk had no difficulty decoding it. It was but a single image and a set of coordinates. It was the image that made his decision; Pavel Chekov, barely recognizable as a fixture in a nightmarish setting only a demented mind would devise, held suspended among a haphazard weave of glowing beams of pale fluorescence by some invisible force. The coordinates were the location of a black hole located a mere 87 parsecs from the site of the Mir's altercation.
Kirk glanced at his chronometer. Very shortly the Enterprise would be arriving at the coordinates where he and Sulu had decided to rendezvous. He grabbed his duffel and strode out into the corridor. He'd taken less than a half dozen steps when he heard a stern voice call out his name. He turned and saw his security chief, Lt. Commander N*Ruth rounding the bend. She looked, if it were possible, even more severe than usual. He smiled anyway. "N*Ruth, good afternoon."
"Sir. I should like to express my doubts regarding the action you and Captain Sulu propose to take." She was not one who was ever less than forthright on any matter.
"I'm not an admiral any more; I'm allowed to take a few risks," he said it with one of his famous half smiles.
"Sir, you're not --" She cut herself off.
"Yes? Not a young man any more? that's what you want to say." He started walking again. Well, he wasn't. But that wasn't going to stop him. It hadn't yet.
She had fallen in step with him. "Even the young need not be foolish."
"So you think I'm being foolish."
"I think you will need some security, sir."
"Are you volunteering?"
"Yes."
He didn't answer immediately. That didn't faze her. She kept pace with him, patient for his decision. He halted again and turned as if to bore through her with his hazel gaze. "Commander, there is a bit more to this than you are aware of. I was the recipient of a message that gave me these coordinates. I've been invited, you haven't."
"But you think it will be dangerous, else why sign out a phaser rifle as well as a standard phaser?"
"It isn't a friendly invitation."
"It is a trap. You are still feared by many of the Federation's enemies." She was not a young and inexperienced woman; she had no qualms about speaking her mind to her captain. She tried, however, to be scrupulously tactful.
"It is most certainly a trap. But I don't have any choice. The bait is a Starfleet officer."
"Sir?"
"It would seem the Mir was attacked in order to kidnap her captain. He, in turn, is the bait they've chosen to lure me into the picture."
"Rumor has it the Mir never saw her attackers. That implies the impossible -- that the enemy has the capability to beam while cloaked."
Kirk shook his head, "Nothing so dramatic, Commander. There was a period when the Mir did not have any sensor capabilities, they would not have been able to detect their attacker even if he'd decloaked."
"And not to have noticed any transporter effect?" He'd started walking again and she had to jog a bit to catch up.
"Not so easy to explain," he conceded. "Butt hey were panicked, and the technology for soft beaming has been discussed..." The turbolift doors opened a moment after his arrival before them.
"So this is personal for you," she slipped in after him. "Nonetheless, I must insist. You will need security."
"Now who's being foolish? I don't doubt that someone wants to kill me." He gave the waiting lift a destination.
"Do you wish to die?"
"Of course not."
"Then you will need security."
Such persistence did not strike him as being particularly logical. But although N*Ruth was Vulcanoid, hailing form a a world that had long ago been colonized during Vulcan's Second Expansion, there were pointed differences between her people's and Spock's. some of these were the result of physical adaptations, others were psychological and philosophical. N*Ruth was never quite what people expected. "There are no guarantees, Commander. You know that."
"I'm in security, remember? We never get guarantees." As the lift slowed to a halt and opened its doors, she flashed him a grin disarming his concern.
He wasn't going to win this one unless he made it a direct order. And in reality, he knew she'd be an asset to the team. "All right. You're invited."
Not twenty minutes later she found herself sitting in an aisle seat in one of Excelsior's shuttlecraft, craning her neck to get a good look at the forward portal's view of the ominously silent ship or station or whatever it was that was waiting for them. Its appearance was one of the most alien she'd ever seen; an asymmetrical wedge with a bulb at one end. As far as she could tell, a totally illogical design.
Up front the two captains were more intent on their consoles than on the view. Sulu was piloting, Kirk minding tactical. Clearly neither expected this to be an uneventful ride. So far they'd been wrong. This surprised N*Ruth as much as it must have surprised them. But the shuttle was already almost on top of the --
"Sulu! It's powering up phasers!" Kirk's warning slashed through her reverie.
In answer the pilot arched his craft upwards and over onto its side. Of course she didn't feel anything. N*Ruth knew what was happening only because she saw the image of the object flip onto its side and slide out of view. then it was back, at some random angle and closer. But only for a moment. She realized Captain Sulu was dodging the phaser barrage. From where she sat there was no way to discern how close their attacker came to hitting them. At least not until and unless they actually scored a hit. An event Captain Sulu was obviously working hard to prevent from happening. The smaller images on the console screens shifted and ducked, spun and gyrated with disconcerting randomness. rarely a silent flash of light told her that a phaser blast had just missed the tiny craft. After a short while she noticed one thing that was not random. Sulu was slowly bringing them closer and closer to the giant vessel or station. Sooner rather than later they'd have to give up their attack on the small Federation ship. Unless they were suicidal. The shuttlecraft would reach a distance such that should it explode, the destruction of the larger vehicle was also assured. Would they be so fanatical?
Ten minutes later she had an answer. "Enemy weapons are powering down." Kirk's announcement filled her with relief. Fanatics they were not then. Did that mean they could be reasoned with after all?
Sulu was not as optimistic as N*Ruth. He continued to give the shuttle an erratic guidance. Finally they were so close she felt certain the seams of the alien craft should have been monstrously obvious. the only way any weapon could blast them now was if the shuttle was parked in front of the weapon itself! Captain Sulu chose an emergency hatch instead.
It opened as if welcoming their visit. "I don't like this," Sulu muttered, his voice nearly a deep growl.
Kirk's answering grimace was not reassuring. their hosts' sudden friendliness had not made him any more comfortable about this escapade either.
Gritting his teeth, Hikaru Sulu gently nudged the shuttle inside. Out of the corner of his eye he saw on one of the console viewscreens the aft image of the hatch closing behind them. 'Clang' his imagination generated a sound to accompany the unnerving disappearance of space and stars. "Well, we're in. Landing... and powering down the engines." He heard N*Ruth in the rear begin assembling their gear. She certainly didn't waste time brooding about the unknown. Beside him Kirk was still busy with ship's sensors. It was not a good idea to go barreling out into what was certainly enemy territory without some foreknowledge.
"Standard atmosphere," Kirk reported as collectedly as any Vulcan. "One gee gravity; temperature just outside the shuttle is 8.92 degrees Celsius --"
"Field jackets really will come in handy for a change," the pilot interjected wryly.
"-- and rising slowly."
"Considerate of our hosts. I wonder where they are."
Kirk shook his head. "Life signs indeterminate."
"Pavel's here."
"That's what the message implied."
"Hell. Let's go find him. They'll --" he gestured vaguely beyond their shuttle's bulkheads, "talk to us when they're ready." Sulu surged up from his chair.
"Hikaru," Kirk's hand fell on the other man's arm effectively detaining him.
Sulu shook it off, "Yeah, I know. it's a trap. But we already expected that."
Kirk nodded once. "All right." He turned to the rear of the compartment. "N*Ruth--"
"Excuse me sir, but I'm coming with you."
Her captain knew when not to argue with her. he smiled congenially. "Of course you are."
Her point established, the security chief passed out their field jackets, phasers, communicators, and other such equipment they had decided was necessary. They exited and while Sulu saw to the ship's security N*Ruth and Kirk studied tricorder readings. The presence of life besides their own was certain. Whose it was, was not. However it did seem this life was confined to one site only in this eerie place.
Finally satisfied no unauthorized entry could be forced, Sulu joined them asking, "Ready?"
"I don't have to remind you both to be careful, right?" Kirk hesitated again.
"No sir, you do not." N*Ruth replied in all seriousness.
"We're wasting time," Sulu insisted.
N*Ruth pointed to a door seamed in the far wall. "That appears to be the only access inside."
That simplified things. They hurried towards the door -- but just about three meters from it Kirk lurched to a halt and flung out an arm. "Hold it!"
"What?!" Both Sulu and N*Ruth barely managed not to plow into him as they pulled up short to a stop. "Tricorder readings --"
"It's too easy," Kirk said over the security chief's objection.
Sulu's eyes snapped back to the waiting door. "Yeah..." he turned thoughtful, his eyes narrowed into suspicious slits. "Got an idea. Wait--" he was already sprinting back to the shuttle. N*Ruth glanced at Kirk who was still eyeing the distance ahead. A few moments later Sulu returned and tossed something -- a small tool -- forward. N*Ruth almost jumped as a simple laser shot out from somewhere above the door catching the flying object in mid air. The tool's trajectory changed only slightly. When it clattered to the floor smoke wafted from a singed hole in its middle. "Not very sophisticated, but effective," Sulu acknowledged begrudgingly.
"Not very imaginative," N*Ruth added disdainfully. "It's the same trick they tried outside." She pulled out her phaser and fired, hitting the motion sensor built into the door just about eye level. Too late Kirk grabbed her arm to try to stop her.
A cross hatch of invisible laser beams erupted at this trigger, hissing strangely and etching burn marks into the floor where they hit.
Sulu frowned. That wasn't the lasers hissing -- "Gas!" He pointed to tiny vents unobtrusively built into the wall near the door. A faint haze of grey spewed out from them making the laser beams visible as it drifted through the rays. As a single unit the Federation officers backed away --
The beams shut off.
The door slid open. Another invitation? The gas was still pouring in, its slightly sweet scent beginning to stick to the backs of their throats. N*Ruth was a blur as she changed direction, flinging herself forward --
The door slammed shut just as she flew through. The lattice grille of laser beams returned.
"Damn." Kirk said to Sulu's shocked expression. He opened his mouth to say more but a fit of coughing preempted further comments.
Sulu was coughing too, his throat constricting around cloying particles of gas coming at them from all parts of the bay. He heard Kirk gasping and choking. He couldn't see the other man, or anything else. He eyes were closed and tearing; molasses was filling his ears, throat, and mouth. A giant hand was closing around him... He found his phaser almost by instinct. He aimed -- Dammit! The door -- where was the door? he forced recalcitrant eyes to open to a stinging squint. Angles were all wrong; he didn't realize he'd fallen to his knees. The door, he reminded himself through the drowning wash of gas. his arms were lead but he gripped the phaser with two-handed determination and aimed toward the dark panel that had to house the door's controlling mechanism. He focused on that alone. Fire! The fist closed around him. He...
...came to lying on a cold hard floor, gulping huge portions of sweet cold air. His memory refused to confirm or deny the impression that he'd disabled the mechanism that locked them in the poisoned bay. someone moaned; then swore. Kirk, he identified the voice relieved they'd both survived. he forced his eyes open as he pushed himself up on his elbows. A broad corridor moved out before him. We-we did get out??? He couldn't find any clue in his memory that hinted at that. There was the fog and the door and his phaser, and nothing else.
As soft footfalls came up behind him he rolled to his feet, phaser in hand. Purely an instinctive action.
"I am relieved to see you seem not to be suffering any ill effects due to the gas," Kirk's security chief greeted not in the least perturbed by his aggressive stance.
"Ah. Well, some small amount of confusion perhaps," Sulu replied as he returned his weapon to his belt. He turned to assist Kirk but the older man had already climbed to his feet.
"Lt. Commander, that was very foolish," Kirk scolded N*Ruth.
"Yes sir," she did not disagree. "But I was able to get the door open and fixed that way until I could drag the two of you out." She topped her unimpassioned explanation with an incongruously stunning grin.
It didn't quite diffuse Kirk's chagrin. "I suppose you have a point but don't go making a habit of such recklessness."
"Especially around here!" Sulu added vehemently as he eyed the walls and ceiling with open suspicion.
"Aye sirs." She didn't seem in the least contrite however.
"So what have you been up to while we were... ah... indisposed?" Kirk let the incident slide. "Are you still picking up indications of life?"
"They remain. Nor have they changed position. I am not convinced they are human however."
"What?!"
"The readings are inconclusive, Captain Sulu," she responded calmly to that officer's shocked expletive. "There is some interference whose source I cannot determine but it renders tricorder scans less than optimally accurate." She paused and chewed her lip thoughtfully before continuing. "We know this is a trap. It is very possible Captain Chekov is no longer alive. Sirs, all that is necessary, from the point of view of our host is that you believe Captain Chekov may be alive..." She trailed off realizing from their faces they did indeed have that belief.
"Which way are the life signs you are reading?" Sulu asked sharply.
"That way." She pointed down the corridor. "About 800 meters. The center of the bulb. There is a lift in a side corridor near here."
"Personally, I'm not particularly sanguine about riding in anything that has the slightest chance of crashing." Sulu vetoed the idea.
"Nor am I," Kirk agreed. "It'll take longer, but walking is undoubtedly safer than riding." They all started off in the direction the security chief had indicated. "N*Ruth--"
"Sir?"
"Thanks for getting us out of there."
"My pleasure sir."
Eight hundred meters along a straight, narrow corridor. A surprisingly uneventful eight hundred meters. Now that they had reached its end Sulu was certain something had to happen at any moment.
Ahead the corridor split into two curved branches. A shutter like door embedded in the wall directly before them twisted open invitingly. Beyond, a thick blackness enticed them with hidden secrets. The three Federation officers hesitated.
"N*Ruth?" Kirk asked volumes in the single worded query.
"Life signs directly ahead..." she paused to make some new adjustment to her tricorder. "Human. If there is a trap it isn't one that registers."
"N*Ruth, you wait here. Hikaru --"
Sulu had his phaser out and with a nod started forward. He crossed the threshold almost as cautiously as he should have. As if in response to his presence a dim cone of light abruptly fell from the ceiling a few meters ahead. It took a single panicky moment for his eyes to adjust. "Pavel!" He cried recognizing the crumpled figure heaped in the center of the spotlight. He rushed forward unmindful of Kirk's warning in the background. A deep rumbling began resonating. That halted him as sharply as a security barrier.
"Welcome, James Kirk," a distorted voice greeted. "You have forty-five minutes remaining."
Kirk had followed just behind Sulu. "What?! Who is this?!" He scanned the room desperate for some clue --
"Sirs! There is a power surge! I-I believe the engines on this thing have been powered up!" N*Ruth's fealty to logic did not preclude her displaying her surprise at this development.
"Engines!" Sulu hissed jerking his head around to look at his companions. "They're going to send this thing into the black hole!" he cried with impossible certainty. "We have to get out of here!" He ran to the form still sprawled in the dim light cone. Of course it was Chekov. Pale, unconscious, but still breathing though weakly. His bedraggled uniform was stained dark with drying blood. Swearing softly Sulu started to reposition his friend in order to heft him over a shoulder.
"No!" N*Ruth's shriek made him freeze. "Don't move! There is a pressure sensitive device -- If you move off that plate we will be blown up!"
Sulu resettled Chekov on the floor. It was obvious then, a faint dark seam that enclosed them in a large circle. His heart sank as he recognized his own unforgivable carelessness. In the background he heard Kirk's voice ask tightly, "Can we disarm it? Where are the controls? The trigger?"
N*Ruth's voice came back with forced calm. "The trigger is beneath the floor. The controls... I think... they must be -- there!"
Both Sulu and Kirk strained to see where 'there' was. The cone of light did not extend outward far enough for them to see anything. Kirk got out and activated one of the small hand held lamps N*Ruth had included as possibly necessary equipment. Holding the lamp and a tricorder before him, he slowly advanced toward the indicated site. Sulu turned his attention back to Chekov. "N*Ruth, I need the first aid kit."
"Aye sir," the security officer called back. That was one of the items she'd been carrying. She moved quickly to the edge of the circle nearest Sulu careful not to cross over the seam and add her weight to that already atop the trap. While he rummaged through its contents her gaze was drawn to the unnaturally pale, unconscious human. He did not seem to her to be breathing but he must have been for Captain Sulu to be so intent on caring for him.
"Commander, is there a surgical laser in that medical kit?" The query came from Kirk who had come to a blank wall.
"Sir?"
"A surgical laser! A phaser's beam is too broad," he explained tersely. She understood at once. He meant to cut into the wall! She spun the kit around to better see inside... Yes, clasped to the inside of the top were three of those instruments. She grabbed one and ran it over to her Captain.
"Surely these aren't powerful enough to cut through a wall," she voiced her doubt as he changed its settings.
Kirk offered a grim smile as he finished. "You'd be surprised at the strength of some of the settings. Medics have had to operate on people other than humans and Vulcans."
She watched him operate on the wall...
"Time , Commander," Kirk demanded without looking up from his work. It was slow going, this cutting through the wall. And then there'd be disarming the device --
"Twenty minutes left sir." N*Ruth listened to the delicate sizzle of the laser burning through whatever substance had been used to construct the wall. Some thin, unfamiliar metal. Her Vulcanoid auditory sense also let her keep track of the soft rustle of Captain Sulu's movements. She also heard his breathless whisper, "Oh god!" She jerked her head around. He looked back at her with an expression of one who senses impending doom. "Sir...?"
"We're moving!" Sulu almost had to shout to get the words out. He'd felt a whisper of a shudder pass through him and knew immediately what it meant. "Get out!" he yelled at Kirk and N*Ruth.
"No!" Kirk yelled back. He kept working but now he felt a tremor run the length of his arms... N*Ruth stayed silently at his side.
When the laser clattered to the floor N*Ruth instinctively bent to pick it up. But Kirk had let it drop and he was now studying the maze of unfamiliar workings. "The sensor..." he muttered, "We've got to make it think the weight is still there..." The security officer did not make a sound. This was not a good time to distract him.
In the center of the room Sulu repacked the medical kit. He'd done what he could, but what his friend really needed was available only in sickbay. The closest sickbay was... hopefully out of harm's way.
"Khalodno," a faint whisper complained.
"Pavel!" Sulu looked down. Chewkov's eyes were still closed, his breathing weak. But he was shivering even with Sulu's field jacket wrapped around him. Sulu cradled his friend in his arms, "Hush, it's all right..." Then he heard phaser fire --
"It's locked!" Kirk announced triumphantly. "Let's get out of here!"
N*Ruth commandeered the job of carrying Captain Chekov, lifting him up as though he weighed no more than a child. Sulu grabbed the medical kit and fell in behind Kirk. He tried not to be surprised when they didn't blow up.
They ran down the hall, back the way they'd come. Sulu had lost track of time but he didn't think they had much left. Almost halfway there Kirk, in the lead, slammed into an invisible barrier. There was a crackling sound like the discharge of static electricity and he was flung backwards into N*Ruth. Sulu had just enough time to swerve and skid to a halt. he bent to help them disentangle themselves. No one stated the obvious.
"There's got to be another way --" Sulu grabbed the tricorder and fiddled with its controls. "Back that way --" he gestured toward the bulb and started running. Almost immediately charging full tilt into another barrier! He felt someone tug at him to help him up. Kirk's concerned hazel eyes studied his dark ones.
"I'm sorry Hikaru," the older man said mournfully. He turned to N*Ruth who stared at him unbelievingly. "I didn't --"
"I chose to accompany you sir," the woman insisted but her voice wavered a little. She knelt to lower Chekov to the floor.
Three communicators beeped.
Sulu was the first to answer. "Sulu here! Can you beam us out?" He didn't care who it was at the other end!
"Sir, you are moving!" the voice said nervously.
"Captain," a different voice took over, "we are working on that."
"Spock!" Kirk gasped, startled to hear the voice he'd last heard on Vulcan seemingly eons ago. "What are you--?"
"There isn't much time. Kindly --" a burst of static drowned out the rest.
"Spock? Spock!"
There was only static.
And then the welcome tingle of the transporter effect --
"Welcome home!" The transporter chief greeted the newly formed figures.
Part Two