Crisis of Consciousness (14 page)

A graphic of the sector displayed. One area was labeled “Maaba S’Ja system” and another was tagged “Former Maabas system.” They were relatively far apart and seemingly unrelated.

“Cross-reference, Starfleet survey reports, all planets in this sector with signs of previous but not
current
civilization, or . . .”—Kirk paused, searching for the right phrase—“or current civilizations that have undergone interstellar war within the last six thousand years.”

“Working
.
”

Slowly the graphic was populated with flashes, red dots appearing first over one system, then another, and another, until there was a wide line of indicators which cut a path across the sector.

A cold shiver danced down Kirk’s spine. He heard Uhura’s intake of breath, and when he glanced at Palamas, she looked ill.

“How many lives,” she asked quietly, “across how many worlds, do you suppose?”

The captain shook his head and slumped down into the seat next to Uhura. He didn’t want to give voice to a number. Too many zeros, too much death.

“The Maabas and the Kenisians were displaced by the same conquerors,” Palamas concluded.

A guess
, Kirk thought.
But an educated one
.

“Why?” Uhura’s question was pertinent, but unanswerable.

“The powerful often crave more power.” The captain shrugged, looked at his coffee cup across the table, and decided against reaching for it.

Despite the sour feeling about what they’d learned, Kirk knew they were on to something. What answers it might give them he wasn’t sure, but the more information they had, the better. “What
did
they want?” the captain asked himself quietly.

“Perhaps the same thing Zhatan wants,” Uhura offered. “Revenge?”

“Zhatan didn’t want revenge against the Maabas,” Palamas said. “Even if it seemed like it at first.”

“That’s it, Lieutenant. That’s
exactly
it,” Kirk said.

“Sir?” Palamas looked to Uhura for a clue but she just shrugged.

“What if,” Kirk began, and his face flushed with the exhilaration that he finally had a grasp of the situation, “
na’hubis
was not developed by the Kenisians. Or maybe it was. Maybe this conquering race learned about it, decided to steal it.” He was all over the place, and so he paused, took in a breath, and slowly released it. “Whatever the case, the Kenisians didn’t care about the planet as much as the
nu’hubis
.”

“Na’hubis
,
”
Uhura corrected, always the linguist.

Kirk nodded. “The
na’hubis
represents horrific power.”

“If you’re looking to destroy an entire space sector,” Palamas said, “what good is it to anyone who wants to live in it?”

“A bargaining chip,” Kirk said, placing his hand out as if an actual item sat on it. “Zhatan said they thought
na’hubis
could be harnessed, if properly controlled.” He closed his hand quickly as if grasping something before it fell.

“The destroyers look for it,” Uhura picked up a stylus from the table and tapped it on her lips absentmindedly, “and when they don’t find it—because the Kenisians have hidden it—they search other worlds in this sector.”

“They took what they wanted, and destroyed what they didn’t,” Palamas whispered sadly. Repulsed by the thought, she shuddered.

“Maybe they considered themselves naturally superior. Maybe they’re different enough they don’t respect life-forms like us.” Kirk paused, setting that thought aside. “Whatever the reason, something changed, because we’ve never heard of them. For whatever reason, they retreated at some point, or returned home.”

“But now,” Uhura said, “the Kenisians have found them.”

“
We
need to find them.” Kirk stood. “And get there before the Kenisians do.”

As Kirk started for the door, the red alert lights began to flash and the bosun’s whistle sounded. “
Bridge to Captain Kirk
.” Sulu’s voice sounded urgent.

The captain spun toward the nearest table comm and mashed the button with his fist. “Kirk, here.”

“Sir, sensors detect incoming attack
.
”

“How many contacts?”

“Hundreds, sir. Hundreds
.
”

TEN

“Platforms three and four in that section are empty, Commander.”

Zhatan nodded. “Thank you, Nidal.”

“There were a few still loaded in platform two, I sent those as well.”

Acknowledging that with only a sigh, Zhatan steepled her fingers in thought. In
thoughts
.

“Feel no guilt.”

“He was against us.”

“Against us.”

“He would stop us.”

“Kirk would end us if he could.
”

“No, he is a good man.”

“We have not killed him. Just delayed.”

“He may yet survive.”

“When he pursues again it will be too late.”

“He could die.”

“They should die.”

“They shouldn’t.”

“If Kirk is gone, Spock may not help us.”

“He will because it is logical.
”

“He will not if he is aggrieved.”

“
Enterprise
should be destroyed for our safety,”
Tibis counseled.

“No. They are of good character. We touched Kirk’s mind.”

“He would stop us.”

“He is a fool.”

“We should hope for his death.”

“We could have made sure of it.”

“No! That is not our place. He has not sinned against us.”

“Stopping us is sin.”

“He will not stop us.”

“He cannot! We must prevail,”
Tibis said.

“We will.”

“We will prevail.”

“We will.”

Sighing again, Zhatan turned away from Nidal when she saw her first glancing back at her.

“What troubles you, Commander?”

“Nothing,” Zhatan said. “There is simply much to consider.”

Leaving her station, the first came up to the command chair. “Please,” she whispered. “Confide in us as you once did. We see you are torn, and we can help.”

Flicking a look at the bridge crew at their stations, then back to Nidal, the commander shook her head. “We should debate our decisions with you, here, on our bridge?”

“We aren’t asking you for debate,” her first said quietly. “We ask that you use us to help order your thoughts. You are so closed now. You never used to be this circumspect. Not with us.”

That was true. In all the years they’d known one another in their current physical forms, even before their relationship had blossomed, Zhatan had used her first as a sounding board. That was why she’d named her as first. But when Nidal testified alongside Alkinth, and used personal, private conversations against Zhatan at the hearing, things had changed.

Yes, Nidal had apologized. Yes, Zhatan had forgiven her, in word if not in deed. But the pain of that time remained. How could she now confide in one who had betrayed her?

How could the commander also keep from confiding in her first?

“We
are
torn,” Zhatan admitted. “As we’re sure you are also.”

Pleased at the confession, Nidal smiled. “Less so than you, we think, but yes. We can see it both ways. Kirk is a hindrance, and the
Enterprise
is a powerful vessel.”

“We don’t wish him dead. Most of us do not,” the commander said.

“We know that.” Nidal touched the arm of the command chair rather than reaching out for Zhatan’s hand. “You
have
given him a chance at life, and that is something.”

Eyes cast sadly down, the commander shook her head. “And yet those in us who wish him ill are pleased at the prospect he shall not survive.”

“We all bear such a burden,” Nidal reminded her.

“Which of those in your heart,” Zhatan said, looking up, “were conflicted about your past wrongs?”

Sighing, her first turned away. “Always back to that.”

As Nidal returned to her station, Zhatan regretted picking at the scab just as they seemed to have moved past it, if even for just a moment.

We’re sorry
, she thought, but didn’t let the words pass her lips.

“BATTLE STATIONS.
Battle stations. All hands, battle stations
.
”

As quick as the tubolift was, to the captain it wasn’t fast enough. He burst onto the bridge and was at the command chair in four steps. Uhura had been behind him but by the time he turned to look, she was at her station.

“Hail them, Lieutenant. Warn them off.”

“Aye, sir.”

Sulu was already at the helm when Kirk stepped off the lift, and he’d likely been there since calling red alert.

“No reply on any channel, sir,” Uhura told him.

He didn’t think there would be. “Tactical,” Kirk ordered, and the main viewscreen switched to a graphical view of their relative position and the hostiles around them.

Hundreds of hostiles. Incoming.

At the center of the screen was an icon indicating the
Enterprise
. Spread out before them, hundreds of small dots, maneuvering wildly closer.

“Identification?”

“None,” Jolma said, his voice just this side of panic. “I mean, unknown, sir.”

“Evasive, Sulu?”

“Unsuccessful. They blocked our path—accelerating toward us.”

“How many exactly?” the captain asked.

“Sensors indicate,” Jolma paused to check, “two hundred and seven, sir. Power signatures similar to the Kenisian vessel.”

That was not a surprise. Kirk looked back to the young man at the first officer’s usual station. He considered replacing the ensign with Chekov, but wanted to keep his best navigator in place. Every officer was once a raw bundle of nerves. Jolma’s training would compensate.

“Life-signs?” Kirk asked.

Peering deep into the sensor cowl, Jolma shook his head. “No readings. Could be shielded. Would be cramped, though. Each is spheroid, just over three meters in diameter. Mass is twenty-five thousand, two hundred kilograms.”

A lot of mass in a small package.

“They’re highly energized,” Sulu added, subtly reminding Jolma that the captain didn’t hear the ensign’s first report because he wasn’t on the bridge.

“And very fast,” Chekov said.

“I don’t read weapons.” Jolma turned and looked to Kirk, who shook his head.

“They
are
the weapons, Ensign.”

Silently, Jolma gulped.

The captain didn’t blame him. They were bullets—warp powered instead of gunpowder propelled, but with enough apparent and actual mass to tear the
Enterprise
to shreds. “How shielded are they?”

“Class three, sir.”

Lovely
, Kirk thought. “Time to intercept?”

“Three minutes ten seconds,” Chekov replied.

“Let’s back off, Mister Sulu.” Kirk crooked a thumb aft. “Alter course. Come about to two-one-two, mark seventeen.”

Nimble fingers worked the helm, and Sulu nodded. “Aye, sir.”

Enterprise
turned and sped away, but the hostiles continued in pursuit.

“They have increased speed, sir, and are maintaining course.” A bit of shock tinted Chekov’s voice as he kept his eyes glued to his readout. “Time to intercept, three minutes.”

“What we need,” Jolma said, “is a place to hide. A gas giant, maybe?”

“Not to hide, Mister Jolma, but a gas giant is an excellent idea.” Kirk turned to him with a smile. “Find us one, and if it has some rings we could use them.”

Jolma twisted back to the science station. “One point seven parsecs away.” He turned toward Kirk and grinned. “It’s ringed, sir.”

“Other planets?”

“Seven in all. Two are rocky. None have life-signs.”

“Good.”
That just might do
, Kirk thought. “Mister Chekov, lay in a course.” He thumbed the comm button on the right arm of his chair. “Kirk to engineering.”

“Scott here, sir
.
”

“We’re about to get hot, Mister Scott.”

“Aye, sir. How hot?”

“Jovian hot.”

There was a slight hesitation before Scott offered a disquieted,
“Aye, aye, sir
.
”

“Kirk out.”

“Course laid in, Captain.” Chekov gave an extra push to the last button in the sequence, and his hands hovered at the ready.

“Mister Sulu, take us in. As close and as fast as we can.”

Under the helmsman’s guidance,
Enterprise
thrust itself toward the ringed Jovian planet.

“Hostiles in pursuit,” Chekov said.

On the main viewscreen, the tactical display was awash in dots, twisting this way and that, spiraling madly toward the
Enterprise
as it drove toward the planet.

“Put her just outside the rings.”

“Aye, sir,” Sulu said, but glanced anxiously at Chekov, who seemed equally uncertain.

“Intercept in one minute ten seconds, sir.” Controls at the ready, the navigator prepared to fire both phasers and photon torpedoes.

But the captain knew the weapons weren’t enough. Two hundred and seven intelligent missiles. It was overkill. The
Enterprise
could outrun them, eventually. But they would have to retreat, losing precious time.

The attack was interesting. Zhatan was walking a line between not trying to destroy the
Enterprise
, but not caring if it was destroyed. Perhaps being a multividual was more a disorder than the Kenisians would care to admit. If Zhatan had this kind of weaponry at her disposal, wouldn’t ridding herself of the
Enterprise
be the wiser path?

The hidden message in this attack was that Kenisians were aware they were being pursued. Zhatan could have been privy to their coded communication with Spock, or she might have assumed the
Enterprise
was following. Worse yet, this could be Kenisian space and their surveillance equipment recognized the
Enterprise
as an invader and alerted Zhatan automatically.

Chekov nervously called out, “Twenty-three seconds to contact with first of hostiles.”

“Push her, Mister Sulu.” Kirk could see the tension in his helmsman’s shoulders.

Sulu leaned over his console as if he could physically push the ship along. “Aye, aye, sir.”

The thrust of the engines could be felt through the deck plates.

Kirk considered transferring power to the aft shields, but the fore shields were needed as they plunged toward the gas giant.

“Captain?” Jolma’s voice was an overexcited squeak. “Hostiles are increasing speed. Using the planet’s pull to accelerate.”

Kirk could see on the tactical display that hundreds of dots were plummeting toward his ship as she dove toward the planet.

“Fifteen seconds.”

“Alter course on my mark, Sulu. Ninety degrees port.” The captain leaned forward in the command chair, his eyes locked on the tactical display and the indicator that showed the first of the missiles bearing down on them.

“Impact imminent,” Chekov reported.

“Ten seconds,” Sulu said.

“Mark, Sulu!” Kirk gripped onto the arms of his chair and held tight. “Full-power turn.”

Enterprise
whined, bulkheads and inertial dampers creaking under the strain.

The first three spheres flew past, unable to break away from the pull of the planet. They were struck by the larger pieces in the ring. Crushed and crumpled, they fell into the gas giant’s atmosphere.

On the tactical display, Kirk watched as the rest of the missiles turned with them, still in close pursuit.

And then one took the lead.

“Aft torpedoes, full spread,” Kirk ordered over the howling engines. “Fire!”

Red orbs of power launched behind
Enterprise
and crashed into the nearest missile.

A white-hot bubble of explosive energy crackled forward.

Kirk was pitched from the command chair and groaned as he rammed a knee into the lip of the console between Chekov and Sulu.

Lights flickered and dimmed, with only sparks illuminating the billows of smoke that poured from overloading circuits. Loose cabling crackled above, and Kirk blinked as particles of insulation rained down as a support strut clattered to the deck to his left.

Emergency lights clicked on as the crew found footing and stumbled back to their stations.

Then another explosion rocked the ship and inertial dampers shut down, hurling the crew in every direction.

Darkness blotted all and refused to wane.

“SOMETHING IS WRONG,
Commander Spock.” The ambassador was again pretending they were discussing the Maabas computer console, but what actually concerned Pippenge was that Spock had sent three new coded messages to the
Enterprise
without response.

Spock couldn’t be sure what had gone wrong. “
They are unable to respond, or they are not receiving the messages
,” he told Pippenge covertly via his implant.

When the ambassador saw the message, he pursed his lips in way of acknowledgment.

“There are several possibilities,”
Spock continued.
“But one theory does not have more evidence to support it over others
.
”
He didn’t care to get into the specifics of the countless potentialities. The
Enterprise
could have sustained damage to the communications equipment or it could be out of range. They could have encountered external forces that made communication silence necessary or unavoidable. More grimly, the ship could have been destroyed.

Turning back, Spock knew, would not have been an option, not for James Kirk. If it were at all possible, the captain would still be in pursuit.

However, it may not have been possible. Spock would need to strategize for that contingency.

To stop the Kenisian plan, Spock would now have to be more proactive rather than playing along with the Kenisians’ desire to limit the
na’hubis
weapon. In fact, the Vulcan thought, he might need to perfect it.

Spock sent to Pippenge,
“It is time to succeed at the task which you
’ve been delaying. I will need full access to the Maabas archive
.
”