Star Trek: That Which Divides (41 page)

Movement from his left caught his attention and he turned to see the two remaining conscious Romulans looking to take advantage of the current chaotic situation. Sortino, as though anticipating the maneuver, was ready for them. The ambassador did not hesitate, firing her phaser and catching both centurions before they could even take their first steps. Both Romulans collapsed back into the adjacent room, and Kirk looked to where Vathrael was still under guard by Boma, her features clouding with irritation.

“They’re just stunned, Commander,” Kirk said. “You’re free to join them, if you like.”

Scowling at his flippant comment, Vathrael said nothing.

Kirk returned his attention to where Uhura was still
working. “Lieutenant?” he asked, but she ignored him, her long fingers moving across the interface panel and its rows of illuminated controls as though possessed of their own will. One display on the wall above her showed a grouping of characters that was refreshing at an alarming rate, which Kirk interpreted as the countdown timer.

“Somebody say something!” McCoy barked.

Uhura tapped a long, seemingly unending series of keys on the smooth panel, before reaching out with her right hand and slapping her palm against a triangular blue control. There was an audible tone, and the indicator that was the focus of Kirk’s attention froze. Other displays on the workstation halted in place, as well, their representation of text and graphics now static.

“What just happened?” Kirk asked.

Vathrael said, “I presume you were successful.”

“You presume correctly, Commander,” Spock replied, stepping back from the console. “The destruct protocol has been halted.”

“So has my heart,” McCoy added. “While I try to restart it, will somebody tell us what all that was about?”

It was Boma who answered, “It was the diagnostic, wasn’t it?”

Uhura turned from the console, smiling as she nodded. “I was able to forge the necessary credentials to give us access to the environmental control system. Once I was inside, it was easy to cross over to the master control protocols and halt any process currently being executed.” She shrugged. “So, I just canceled the program with the code to tell it that everything was fine and the crisis was over.”

“Absolutely wonderful,” Sortino said, crossing the room to join the group.

Even Vathrael, Kirk noticed, seemed appropriately impressed. “A simple, yet elegant solution.”

“And that’s it?” McCoy asked, not bothering to hide his skepticism.

“Sometimes that’s all you need, Bones,” Kirk replied, grinning. “Computers will listen to any instruction they’re given; you just have to know how to talk to them. Isn’t that right, Lieutenant?”

“Yes, sir,” Uhura replied.

Placing a hand on her shoulder, Kirk said, “Very nicely done, Nyota.”

As though self-conscious at the praise, Uhura cast her gaze to the floor before replying, “Thank you, Captain.”

A now-familiar whine began from behind them, and everyone shifted their gaze to the cube at the center of the room, the illuminated interior of which once more was oscillating in a regular pattern. From its base was emitted the shaft of light aimed at the floor, which coalesced into the shifting, translucent image of Meyeliri. As in the previous transmissions offered by the control cube, the doctor once again was wearing a long-sleeved robe—mauve, this time—that concealed her body from neck to feet. The beam’s intense light highlighted her short-styled silver hair and her piercing blue-green eyes.

“
Greetings, fellow Kalandans
,” she said. “
Our systems indicate that the threat to our outpost has been eliminated, the containment protocol is no longer required, and the storehouse of knowledge we have strived for generations to collect is no longer in danger. Unless and until such time as this repository is called upon to fulfill its primary function, the responsibility for its care and protection falls to you. If we are fortunate, our society will continue to thrive and endure, and we will never have need for
such contingencies. Let us all hope that is always the case. Regardless of what the future may hold, I wish you well.
”

“The Kalandans never did seem to catch a break, did they?” McCoy asked.

Kirk shook his head, considering the sobering message he had just heard. “They anticipated the fall of their civilization, and prepared for it, but they were so worried about external enemies, they never had a chance against the threat from within.”

“I’m sure there’s a lesson or three in there, somewhere,” Sortino offered.

“For another time, Ambassador,” Kirk replied before turning to Vathrael. “Commander, we seem to be at a crossroads here.”

The Romulan nodded. “I know you may not believe what I said to you earlier, Captain, but I do regret the loss of your security officer. As for everything else that has transpired here today, you were correct when you observed that we were merely following our orders, but that does not lessen the effect of a needless death.”

“I appreciate that, Commander,” Kirk said, his instincts telling him that her remarks were genuine, rather than a ruse. Before he could say anything else, he was interrupted by a new beeping from the console behind Spock and Uhura. Frowning, and more than a bit worried about what other surprises or booby traps might still be waiting to be triggered, Kirk asked, “What’s that?”

Uhura replied, “Sensors, sir. We’ve accessed what looks to be the entire network. This equipment’s able to scan beyond the barrier.”

“Is it still closed?” McCoy asked. “Can we contact the ship?”

Once again working next to Uhura, Spock replied, “I am able to detect the presence of the
Enterprise
, but we are still endeavoring to access the communications subsystem.” He paused, his fingers moving across the console before he added, “Captain, the
Enterprise
is not alone.”

Dividing his attention between the main viewscreen and the chronometer set into the astrogator panel situated between Sulu and Arex, Scott watched time slipping away as the image of the Dolysian freighter grew larger with every passing second.

“We’re within transporter range,” said Sulu from the helm.

Scott felt the ache in his back and shoulders, a consequence of his hunched posture while sitting in the captain’s chair. “Extend our shields, Mister Sulu. Lieutenant M’Ress, notify the transporter room to stand by.” He looked to Chekov at the science station. “You’ve verified the life signs?”

“Five, sir,” the ensign replied. “Just like the first freighter.”

Wishing he had remembered to read whichever briefing report might have informed him of the standard crew complement of Dolysian cargo freighters, Scott instead elected to thank whoever was responsible for seeing to it that he could beam everyone to the
Enterprise
at one time.

“Shields extended,” Sulu said, and Scott saw him glance at the chronometer. “The Romulans should be in weapons range in under a minute.”

Despite the escalating tension he could feel permeating the bridge, Scott still found a moment to shake his head in
mild amusement. “Mister Sulu, what have I told you about your irritating habit of keeping time?”

Sulu, picking up on the joke, looked over his shoulder. “I believe you called it an annoying fascination for timepieces, sir.”

“Aye, so I did,” Scott replied before looking to M’Ress. “Tell the transporter room to beam those Dolysians aboard.”

The Caitian communications officer acknowledged the order, and Scott heard her talking to the crewman on duty in the transporter room, though his attention once more was focused on the chronometer before him. The seconds were continuing to evaporate before his very eyes, but were they now dwindling even faster?

“Transporter room reports all five Dolysians are safely aboard,” M’Ress said.

Sulu added, “Their ship’s navigation system is continuing on automatic for its destination at the second moon. It’s programmed to meet up with its companion freighter and assume a standard orbit once it gets there.”

“That’ll do,” Scott said, rubbing his chin as he leaned back in the captain’s chair. Once this situation was resolved—and assuming it was concluded in something resembling a peaceful manner—the crews of both freighters would be returned to their ships so that they might carry on with their tasks.

The Red Alert indicator flashed on the helm console, and Sulu called out, “Romulan vessels are now within weapons range. They’re still maneuvering into attack positions.”

“Reset shields to normal configuration,” Scott ordered, “and move us away from the freighter. I want some breathing room. Is that escape course plotted?”

Nodding, Arex replied, “Course plotted and laid in, sir. Ready to execute at your command.”

Though he did not want to leave the system so long as other options presented themselves, Scott knew that if the situation devolved into a shooting fight, the
Enterprise
would be vulnerable. With that in mind, he had ordered a contingency plan to take the ship away from immediate danger should circumstances warrant such action. He vowed it would be an option of last resort, as he had no intention of abandoning Captain Kirk and the landing party.

“Tactical plot on main viewer,” Scott said.

Sulu pressed the appropriate controls on his console, and a moment later the image on the viewscreen shifted from the Dolysian freighter to the computer’s cold, lifeless rendering of the
Enterprise
’s current situation. At the center of a white grid was a blue icon representing the starship, with three green avatars depicting the Romulan vessels. A smaller red marker indicated the Dolysian freighter, near the screen’s lower left corner and moving beyond the image’s boundary. The schematic shifted, morphing the grid into a three-dimensional cube with the
Enterprise
at its heart, and the three enemy warships moving toward it from different directions and angles, forming a multi-axis attack formation.

Chekov said, “They’re moving to surround us. We still have some maneuvering room, but not for long.”

“Mister Sulu, maneuver us closer to the energy field,” Scott ordered.

Surprised by the command, Sulu looked over his shoulder. “Sir?”

“Use the field as partial cover as we maneuver,” the engineer replied, understanding the lieutenant’s confusion.
“They have to know what the rift did to their other ship. Maybe they’ll be hesitant to get too close. If nothing else, it might be able to keep them from flanking us.” Scott knew it was a long shot, but at this point such gambles seemed appropriate.

“Mister Scott,” M’Ress called out. “We’re being hailed. It’s Commander Grathus.”

“Of course it is,” the engineer muttered under his breath, unable to suppress a small smile. “Put him on-screen.”

The image on the viewer changed to that of the Romulan commander, once again seated at whatever alcove or hole in the bulkhead that served as his communications station.

“
So
,” Grathus said without any introduction, “
you have deemed it necessary to take the civilians under your protection
.”

Rising from the captain’s chair, Scott replied, “As I told you earlier, Commander, the Dolysians have entered into a cooperative partnership with the Federation. As such, we are duty-bound to protect them from external threats. I’m also required to remind you that your presence here is in violation of the treaty between our governments. I suspect that my superiors will be contacting yours in due course.”

Grathus leaned across his desk, to the point that his face all but filled the viewscreen. “
We do not recognize the validity of your ‘partnership’ with these people, and even if it does exist, it does not absolve them of guilt for the destruction of a vessel of the Romulan Empire. If you choose to stand as their advocate, then it is you who will be held accountable for their actions
.”

“Commander, we’ve been over this,” Scott snapped. “The Dolysian people had no knowledge of the technology
buried beneath the surface of the planetoid. It’s been there since well before they even achieved space flight. Why are you continuing to perpetrate an obvious falsehood?”

“
It is not a falsehood, human
,” Grathus replied. “
Romulans simply do not believe in the notion of ignorance as an excuse from responsibility. The Dolysians claimed that planet and all the riches it affords their society. Therefore, they are culpable for any offenses it commits.
”

Sensing the futility of arguing with the Romulan, Scott could only shake his head. Had he misread Grathus? During their earlier conversation, the commander had seemed pragmatic, if determined, with respect to finding an explanation for the loss of the other scout ship. Though he had not responded to Scott’s earlier assertions that he wanted to avoid triggering an interstellar incident, his mannerisms had suggested as much. Was it possible that the Romulan was just that effective at presenting a demeanor that caused others to underestimate or misjudge his motives? Could it be a simple matter of bruised ego, and the perceived need to assert dominance? Grathus commanded a small armada; did he need to demonstrate his strength, perhaps to subordinates who might see an opportunity for advancement if an ineffective leader were removed from their path?

“I’m certain my government will see things differently, Commander,” Scott said, making one last attempt at fostering civil discourse. “And I can’t believe yours won’t feel the same way, so what is it you’re hoping to accomplish here, other than possibly starting a war?”

The scowl that had been clouding Grathus’s expression softened, and he almost smiled. “
You claim some insight into the minds and attitudes of my people, human. After all
this time with us as your enemy, you have learned nothing.
” His face vanished, replaced by the tactical schematic.

Sulu released an annoyed grunt. “Well, that was enlightening.”

“Mister Scott!” Chekov called out, his voice nearly a shout. “The Romulan ships are accelerating to full impulse power, maneuvering to envelop us.”