Myriad Universes - Infinity's Prism Part 9

"Curious," T'Pring said as she examined her own multicorder.

"What is?" Tharlas asked.

"We confirmed three transports on Enterprise: two disembarking, one boarding. The residual energy levels in this area would seem to indicate more transporter activity in and out than accounted for."

"Somebody else beamed in and out, then," Pike said.

T'Pring reconfirmed her readings before continuing, "The curious part is, as Tharlas stated, all the energy signals indicate the use of a Terran-design transporter system."

Pike's eyes widened slightly. "Which means another ship using a Terran transporter!"

T'Pring looked at Pike directly. "That is the logical conclusion."

"Colonel, Subcommander, come look at this."

Tharlas and T'Pring turned in the direction of Lieutenant Hyaud. "What is it?" the colonel asked as they approached the Bolian woman, with Pike close behind.

Hyaud answered by handing the Andorian her multicorder. His antennae snapped nearly straight up in surprise, then turned to T'Pring. "What do you make of this, Subcommander?" he asked, fixing her with a look that he had until now reserved exclusively for use on the humans.

She took the proffered device, awkwardly trying to operate both it and her own scanner. After a bit of juggling, she let her multicorder hang loose on its strap as she examined the top portion of the other's small screen. She noted what appeared to be highly magnified and rather unremarkable images of hair strands. It took a moment for T'Pring to understand the significance of this find, until her eyes went to the chemical a.n.a.lysis of the hairs.

"What is it?" Pike asked, peering over her shoulder.

"What appear to be strands of Vulcan head hair," T'Pring said carefully, "broken free of their follicles two to eight hours ago."

"T'Pol's?" Pike asked.

T'Pring shook her head. "Their pigmentation and relative strength indicate a younger individual, in the range of eighty to one hundred years."

Tharlas nodded as T'Pring made his case for him. "I am going to need to reinterview Councillor Sarek."

"I understand," T'Pring said, although she knew these hairs were not Sarek's. Nor were they, despite initial appearance, any Vulcan's, but she could not share that information with the Andorian. She handed the Andorian's multicorder back and took hers in hand again. She quickly broke the link she had established between the two devices, and confirmed that she had copied and transmitted all of Tharlas's data to the only people to whom she could entrust it, and all it entailed. Now, she could only hope they could use it to some advantage.

Captain Syvak emerged from his small private office and found himself the object of the rapt attention of every crew member present on the Kuvak bridge. On any of his seven previous commands this would not have been remarkable. But the Kuvak, as a diplomatic vessel in service to the Vulcan government, was exempt from Coalition s.p.a.ce Command's diversity requirements, and was crewed exclusively by natives of that single planet.

This meant Syvak had to be particularly mindful of his reaction to T'Pring's communique, and make certain he was in control of even the most subtle expression of his thoughts and worries as he faced his people.

They did not seem to have the same concerns, though-the curiosity was plain on each one of their faces as they awaited the latest news on the security breach on the planetoid below. "Mind your stations," the captain ordered, causing eyes to quickly shift away. Undisciplined children, Syvak thought to himself as he crossed to the science station and handed the sublieutenant currently on duty a blood-green data card. "Stonn, I require an a.n.a.lysis of these multicorder readings."

The younger man nodded as he took the card, and pulled the data up on his screen. "Portions of this message have been redacted," he declared, turning back to face the captain.

"They were irrelevant," Syvak said firmly, inadvertently allowing a tremor of annoyance to underlie his words. Stonn, no doubt, would have understood any redactions would have been made by Syvak himself, and thus, there was no logical reason for him to blurt out his observation aloud to the rest of the crew. "The data provided is sufficient for your purposes," the captain told him sharply. Stonn hesitated a fraction of a second before turning away and back to his task.

It was only his experience in commanding officers of a variety of differing species that enabled Syvak to tolerate this young man. Stonn was a mostly competent but mediocre scientist, and unmotivated as an officer, seemingly content to remain a sublieutenant until his term of service expired. He had been a.s.signed to the Kuvak at the request of Councillor Sarek, though it was no secret that this had in fact come at the behest of the councillor's aide. Given her position, T'Pring could have her choice of consorts, and Syvak saw no logic in preferring Stonn over any other potential mate; and yet, for whatever reasons, she did.

Several minutes later, Stonn had compiled and translated T'Pring's multicorder data into a three-dimensional representation of the planetoid, with the Earth ship in orbit above it, and six lines, representing transporter beams, stretched upward from a single point on the planetoid. Three of those lines ran directly to the Enterprise.

Three others did not. Rather, they extended past the Earth ship's starboard warp nacelle, through empty s.p.a.ce, with no obvious end point.

"Curious," Stonn noted. "Were these transports initiated at the ground site?"

"Negative," Syvak answered as he studied the image. "All were initiated by orbital transport systems." The captain pondered the three anomalous beams a moment longer before saying, "Incorporate data from our sensor logs over the last six hours."

Stonn nodded and keyed in a new series of commands, incorporating the new data into his display. Now, the science station showed some sort of faint, ill-defined blur approximately nine hundred meters below the Enterprise's position. All three of the mystery beams intersected this anomaly directly.

Syvak leaned in closer, but could not make anything more of the image than a hazy distortion. "a.n.a.lysis, Sublieutenant?"

"Inconclusive," the younger man said. "It would appear to be a minor ionic disturbance in the magnetosphere. Perhaps a reflection of the Earth ship's warp engine emissions."

"Reflections, however, cannot initiate transporter beams," Syvak pointed out. "Can you refine the image?"

Stonn pressed a new series of b.u.t.tons, and then shook his head. "My efforts are limited by the resolution of our aft sensor array."

Syvak nodded. The bulk of the Sitar-cla.s.s starship's sensors, logically, were located on the forward section of the ship, and primarily directed ahead, with a smaller array mounted at the aft. The primary sensors could be redirected, but would be of limited effectiveness when targeted through or past the ship's ma.s.sive warp coil ring.

"Perhaps we should alert the Earth ship," Stonn added. "They may see this only as a reflection as well, and may not be aware of the potential danger it could pose."

Syvak considered that, and was forced to reject it. Because if this reflection was what he suspected it to be, it would be disastrous for the Earthers to learn this two-thousand-year-old secret in this way. Instead, he turned toward the helm operator. "Lieutenant Sepek, slow our orbital velocity gradually to one-third of current level, and discreetly bring our main sensor array in line with that anomaly." Syvak lowered himself into the seat at the center of the bridge and fixed his concentration on the Enterprise, drawing nearer.

"I can't believe Jim would really do something like this."

Stiles lifted his head and looked up at Lee Kelso, who stood beside him at the end of the navigator's console. "Do what? None of us know what he did. Technically, he hasn't done anything. Innocent until proven guilty, right?"

"Well, we know he took T'Pol off the ship in the middle of the night," Kelso said. "We know now n.o.body knows where she is..." Kelso shook his head, not wanting to even consider the possible conclusions. Now his friend had been relieved of duty, and the captain was helping in the search for T'Pol on the surface, leaving him in command of the Enterprise, in the midst of what was starting to look like a mission gone completely to h.e.l.l.

"Geez, Lee," Stiles said, turning back to his console, "I thought Jim was your friend."

"What?" Kelso replied, baffled by the accusation. "Of course he is."

"Then why does it sound like you're siding with the Vulcans?" Stiles challenged him. "Jim said he brought the old bag back to her people. They say he didn't, but when have you ever heard of a Vulcan who didn't lie?" He shrugged. "Far as I'm concerned, what he did should've been done a hundred years ago."

Kelso could think of nothing to say in response to that. He'd always known Stiles had strong opinions about aliens. His family had been ruined years before, when their cargo business went bankrupt in Earth's first big trade war with the Interstellar Coalition, and the grudge had been carried down father to son, generation to generation. But he rarely saw his friend in such a malicious mood as this. Kelso was no alien lover himself, but still, he found it hard to countenance the abduction and mistreatment of an old woman, no matter what her species.

Even if he had thought of a rejoinder, he wouldn't have had the opportunity to express it. "Lieutenant, there's something happening with the Vulcans' ship, the Kuvak," said Ed Leslie at the helm. "Their maneuvering thrusters have increased output by two hundred percent in the past two minutes."

Kelso's brow furrowed. Minimal thruster usage was needed to maintain position in orbit; the sudden jump could only mean they didn't intend to maintain it any longer. Kelso moved back toward the command chair and ordered, "Let's see them. On-screen."

The image of the planetoid below them disappeared and was replaced by a view of the Sitar-cla.s.s Interstellar Coalition vessel. With only the stars as reference points, it appeared to be holding perfectly still, but Kelso knew enough not to trust that perception. "Range?"

"Eleven point eight kilometers, and closing," Leslie answered.

"They're maneuvering toward us?" Kelso asked, seated just on the edge of the captain's chair.

"No," Leslie replied, "they're actually slowing their orbit-we're moving up closer behind them. But they're also a.s.suming a higher orbit, making sure they're keeping at a comfortable distance."

"No such thing," Stiles muttered, barely audible to the rest of the bridge.

"Sir?"

Kelso turned to the new science officer. "Yes, Mister Masada?"

"Sir, you should know the Sitar-cla.s.s has Type III phaser emitters on its ventral hull, set just forward of their warp coil ring. Once they're at a z-axis bearing of 0-9-1-"

"-they'll have a clear shot," Stiles said, finishing the thought.

"They're not going to fire on us at a peace conference!" Kelso said, though he wondered exactly how firmly he believed that.

"If they wanted us to hand Jim over to them, they would," Stiles said. "Threaten to, at least."

"You're being paranoid," Kelso said, even as his heart started racing a little faster.

"Sir, z-axis bearing is 0-8-0 now," Masada reported.

Stiles turned around in his seat to look directly at Kelso, and paranoid or not, his eyes showed genuine worry. "Lee..."

Kelso had often wondered, since first being a.s.signed to the bridge crew, how he might deal with a crisis situation while in command of the ship. He wasn't pleased to realize that seconds were ticking by and he had yet to issue any kind of order. "Yellow Alert, raise shields," he finally said, after what seemed to him like an eternity. He considered raising the captain and informing him of the situation, but the situation was that the Kuvak was slightly shifting its position in orbit, without making any overtly hostile moves. Already, he was wondering if Yellow Alert wasn't an overreaction, and what a panicky fool he'd look like if all this turned out to be was- "Bearing 0-8-7..." Masada reported. "0-8-8..."

And then, without warning, blue light flashed on the viewscreen, in the form of twin energy beams blasting from the Kuvak's weapons array.

As the Vulcan ship drifted closer, the Enterprise misinterpreted their actions and raised its defensive screens.

A part of Syvak's mind admitted that, not having been informed of his intentions, the humans were behaving completely logically in taking this defensive precaution. He quickly dismissed that thought, however, in light of the fact that humans had always been irrationally defensive toward Vulcans and other non-Terrans; a.s.suring them of one's nonhostile intentions would do nothing to change that.

"We have reached position, Captain," Sepek reported from the helm.

Syvak nodded, rose, and returned to the science station beside Stonn. "Any difference in readings?"

"Yes, sir," Stonn replied, his voice rising a bit more than was seemly. From the closer range and with the superior sensors, the faint cloud of ions was resolved into a solid, symmetrical object. "It is a ship," the younger man opined. It appeared generally disk-shaped, with two clearly identifiable warp nacelles held away on opposite sides from the main hull.

Syvak was about to ask if the image resolution could be refined any further. Before he could, though, the image cleared of its own accord. The ship became fully visible, as did the markings on the hull-the same image that flew above those who marched against Surak at Mount Seleya...

"Weapons!" Syvak shouted, forgetting all his training. "Quickly, bring all weapons to bear on that ship! Now!"

The Vulcan shot missed by only meters. Kelso sprung out of his chair and shouted, "Return fire!"

A violent volley of high-power phaser beams lanced out from Enterprise's dorsal emitters, pounding the shields around the Vulcan ship. They shimmered visibly around the vessel, and then flared out of existence. Seconds later, a single photon torpedo homed in on the target, striking the primary hull dead-center. The giant ring encircling the Vulcan ship seemed to fill with fire as the warp plasma inside the coils glowed with the brilliant energy of an unregulated matter/antimatter reaction. In a matter of milliseconds, those energies filled the ship's entire volume, then burst through the exterior hull, leaving nothing of the Kuvak but an expanding cloud of radiation and shrapnel.

"Holy s.h.i.t..." Kelso's mouth hung open as he watched the fire in s.p.a.ce quickly burn itself out. His brain threatened to snap shut at the enormity of what had just happened, but he was in command, and he knew he didn't have that luxury. "Stiles, I didn't order photon torpedoes!"

"That was no photon torpedo, sir," the navigation officer answered in a tone of bewilderment, then turned to face him. "And we didn't fire it."

"Then who-?" Kelso began to ask, and then stopped as something new appeared on the forward viewscreen. Though it did not in fact fully appear, but presented itself as an opaque specter of a curved metal-gray ship's bow, rising up from the bottom of the screen, somehow wavering just on the edge of existence. As more of the object came into view, the head and outstretched wings of a great bird of prey were revealed painted on its ventral hull. "What is that?" Kelso asked.

"I don't know," Stiles said, "but I'm pretty sure that's who fired the last shot at the Kuvak."

The image of ship wavered and faded almost completely into transparency as it accelerated past the Enterprise, heading out of orbit and into s.p.a.ce.

"Lieutenant Kelso!"

Kelso spun toward the new communications officer, who winced as she pulled a small wireless receiver from her ear. Kelso noticed that practically every light on the console behind her was either lit up or blinking madly. "We're being hailed by Babel Central and half the ships in orbit," Penda reported, "demanding to know what's happened. We're also getting demands-"

"Sir!" Leslie interrupted. "Five-six Coalition cruisers are closing on us, weapons running hot!"

"-for our immediate surrender," Penda finished.

As Tharlas's forensics team reached the end of their directory of tests, the Andorian colonel returned to where T'Pring stood watching. "Subcommander," he said, his antennae pointing accusingly at her, "you had attested earlier that no members of the Vulcan diplomatic contingent were absent from the amba.s.sadorial suite during the period in question. Do you wish to amend that statement?"

"No," T'Pring said, holding herself up straight. "It is an accurate statement."

"In spite of this new evidence?"

"The evidence is circ.u.mstantial," she said, even though the Romulan hair they'd found in fact exonerated Sarek. She would have preferred not to have allowed the cloud of suspicion to remain over the councillor-Sarek had been a generous benefactor to her for many years, and she owed him much. But as much as it pained her to be so circ.u.mspect, she could not reveal all the facts to these individuals, not just now. "While it appears to suggest the presence of another Vulcan-"

T'Pring suddenly stopped talking, interrupted by the death screams of one hundred and forty-seven Vulcan minds. They cried out inside her head as their ship burned around them, loosed katras trying to touch another mind-any mind-except for a single one looking specifically for her...

"Stonn!"

Before Tharlas could ask what that meant, the shrill blaring of a klaxon filled every corner of the utilities room. The colonel, his antennae pressed flat to his scalp, pulled a communicator from a holster on his hip and shouted above the din, "Tharlas to Central! What's going on?!"

"Code Four!" the voice on the other connection shouted back, giving the call sign for a threat in planetary orbit. "The Enterprise has just fired on the I.C.V. Kuvak!"

"No..." Captain Pike whispered, his face a picture of disbelief and horror.

Almost as if in response, the voice on the speaker continued, "No...it's been destroyed! The Earthers destroyed the Kuvak!"

Pike turned to T'Pring, as if to plead his innocence, but he had no other words. T'Pring had to push back hard against a surge of fury toward the human, calling on all her logic to remind herself that he could not be responsible for Stonn's death. Stonn's commitment to s.p.a.ce Command would have been over in just three more years, and then they would have been together. Except now they would not...

She secured her emotions back behind the suppressing barriers of her mind, to be dealt with at the appropriate time, and refocused on the situation at hand. Pike had turned away from her and shifted his gaze to the other members of Tharlas's investigative team. He found no more sympathy from any of the non-Vulcans gathered than he had from her. "There has to be a mistake," he said, as much to himself as to any of the individuals now glowering at him, betraying emotions that ranged from mistrust to murderous rage. Pike reached for his communicator in his right hip pocket...

...and collapsed in mid-motion, as a phaser beam struck him between the shoulder blades. "Human filth!" Pike's Zaranite a.s.sailant shouted through her fluorine breather. A Betazoid technician quickly restrained her, as T'Pring dropped to her knees to check on the stunned human.

He had apparently bitten his tongue when he hit the floor, and his strangely miscolored blood flowed freely from his mouth. A large reddening welt just below his hairline suggested additional traumatic cranial injuries. His breathing was shallow, and his pulse was nearly nonexistent, though for all she knew, sixty beats per minute could be a perfectly normal heart rate for his species. He was, however, unconscious-very deeply so, she determined with a quick brush of her fingertips across his temple.

Around her, Tharlas and his people were shouting at each other, emotion building on emotion like layers of lava and ash building a volcano. Amid this cacophony, she heard the electronic chirp of Pike's communicator. She reached over his body, pulled it from his pocket, and lifted the hinged grille cover. "Enterprise to Captain Pike!" a female voice called. "Come in, Captain Pike!"

What T'Pring did next would certainly be deemed illogical by Sarek and the rest of her superiors. However, in the brief time she had spent with Christopher Pike, she had determined that ensuring his continued existence was in fact a most logical objective. "Enterprise, your captain has been injured," T'Pring said into the transceiver. "Beam both him and myself aboard." She hesitated imperceptibly before adding, "Code V'Shar, kef-yet keh-kuh steh-kuh."

The ceiling above Kirk's bunk was far from the most interesting feature of his quarters, but that's where he fixed his attention for the bulk of his time in confinement. He felt exhausted-he'd gotten little if any sleep since his encounter at the reception, what with all that followed-but his mind was unwilling to shut down, going over and over the events of the last twelve hours.

d.a.m.ned Vulcans, he thought over and over. First they took his wife and his son from him, and now they'd ended his career. He'd probably end up spending the rest of his life in Leavenworth because of some pointy-eared con man...

Stop that, he told himself, angered by how pitiful those thoughts sounded inside his head. Jim Kirk had never thought of himself as a victim of fate. He'd never believed there was such a thing as a no-win scenario, but rather, that there were always choices he could make. Loath as he was to admit it, he couldn't place all the blame on the Vulcans. He'd made his choices, as the captain said, based on his prejudices. And he would be made to pay for his choices.

Kirk was jarred out of his contemplative state by the blaring of the Red Alert siren. He bolted out of his bed and instinctively started for the door before stopping and reminding himself how he came to be in his quarters to begin with. He stood there in the middle of the room for a moment, feeling ridiculous, useless. He moved to his desk and hit an embedded power control b.u.t.ton. "Computer."

The machine chattered to life and replied: "Working."

"Computer, what's happening?"