Star Trek: That Which Divides

by Dayton Ward

  A deep rumbling sound from behind her made Vathrael flinch, and she whirled to look in that direction, pulling her disruptor from its holster and extending her weapon arm toward the source of the sound. The three centurions who had been walking behind her were lunging forward, deeper into the tunnel, as the slice of light denoting the entrance from the surface began to narrow.

  “Get away from there!” she yelled as the gap continued to close, and a moment later it vanished as though it had never existed. In response to the closure, the lighting within the tunnel increased, bringing the passageway’s stone walls, floor, and ceiling into sharp relief. Turning to look down the sloping tunnel, she saw other shafts of light beginning to activate from within the walls. Power relays? Computer interface terminals? There was no way to know, at least not with the information she currently possessed.

  “We’re trapped,” Betria said, holding up his scanner to emphasize his comment. “I am unable to read anything beyond the entrance.”

  Drawing a deep breath, Vathrael forced herself to maintain her composure. Despite the lighting’s soothing effects, she still noted her odd twinge of apprehension as she regarded the enclosed space ahead of her. It was a fear that had stalked her since childhood, and even the fvheisn spent aboard the cramped confines of imperial warships had done little to help her surmount what she knew to be illogical angst.

  Enough, she chided herself, ashamed that she had allowed the infantile sensation to impede her thinking even for a moment. “The door was closed,” she said, “so it can be opened again, either by us or by those who closed it. All we have to do is find the mechanism to do that.” Getting there likely would be difficult, of course, but the alternative was to stand here and do nothing, and Vathrael had never been one for such inaction. Her only concern was the loss of stealth; the Starfleet group had to know she and her people were here. Were they able to somehow monitor the complex’s interior? “Betria, is your scanner able to detect any human life signs?”

  After taking a moment to study the information being collected and displayed by the unit, the centurion shook his head. “Readings are indistinct, Commander, at least at a distance. I believe that some of the minerals in the surrounding rock have properties which interfere with my scans. However, I believe I’ll be able to isolate their location the farther we move into the installation.”

  Vathrael nodded, only somewhat concerned with the report. Her years in command long ago had taught her to enter any potentially dangerous situation with the understanding that anything that might go wrong or present an obstacle was likely to make itself known. Such thinking tended to reduce surprises or the frustration that often came about as a result of being too reliant on a well-considered plan and not allowing for the realities of actual engagement with an enemy.

  “Very well,” she said before turning her attention to the fourth member of her party, Subcommander Atrelis. “It appears you’ll get your chance to study whatever alien technology we find, if for no other reason than so that we might be able to report our discovery to our superiors.”

  The subcommander, a tall, thin soldier with dark hair, a thin, angular face, and thick, severely upswept eyebrows, nodded. “I accept that challenge, Commander,” he said, his lips pressing into a small tight grin.

  “Let’s hope your confidence is not misplaced,” Vathrael replied. Turning from the science officer, she made her way back down the tunnel until she came abreast of Drixus. The centurion, to his credit, stood where he had been since they had first entered the passageway, his weapon aiming down the long, narrow tunnel, on guard for any potential threat. Vathrael reached up to place a hand on his shoulder. “You are unwavering in your duty, Centurion, but whatever we are to face down here, I shall face it first.”

  Drixus nodded. “And I shall face it with you, Commander.”

  Comforted by the centurion’s statement of loyalty, Vathrael stepped past him and began making her way down the tunnel, doing her best not to dwell on the feeling that the stone walls already were beginning to press in around her.

  Reaching an intersection in the underground passage, Kirk, for perhaps the fourth time—he had lost count—brought his communicator to his mouth and called into it, “Kirk to Spock. Are you there?”

  “Spock here, Captain,” the Vulcan replied. Was it Kirk’s imagination, or was there more static clouding the connection now than there had been earlier in the day?

  “Close the surface entrance to the complex. Romulan intruders are following us, and we can’t let them get in here.” He had tried and failed to close the entrance and reactivate its electronic shroud before he and Sortino were forced to flee deeper into the subterranean complex. The only hope now was that Spock could carry out that task from the control room. Kirk had no desire to try and fight the Romulans, outnumbered at least two and perhaps even three or four to one. A deep rumble echoed from somewhere back the way they had come, and Kirk sighed in momentary relief, realizing that Spock was acting on his instructions.

  “Nothing says at least a few of them didn’t get inside before it closed,” Sortino said, a bit out of breath from the extended dash from the surface. “We need to keep moving, and get to the control room.”

  Kirk paused, catching his breath as he replayed the events on the surface. How long had it been since he and the ambassador had sprinted for the opening of the Kalandan complex, dodging disruptor fire as the Romulans transported to the plateau from an unknown origin point and gave chase? No more than three minutes, he decided, which likely meant only one thing.

  “If they’re already in here,” he said. “They’ll be trying to follow us.” With his phaser, he gestured back the way they had come. “There are other tunnels and side passages. Most of them lead to chambers with no other exits, but we haven’t had a chance to check them all. We have to go back and stop them from getting too far down here, before they find something they might be able to use against us.” Indeed, the more he pondered that line of thought, the angrier he grew with himself for not considering the possibility earlier, when he and Sortino could have taken more direct preventive action against their Romulan pursuers.

  As though resigning herself to the situation, Sortino blew out her breath and tucked one of the phasers she had taken from the Galileo into her waistband. Holding up the second weapon, she appeared to check its power setting before returning her gaze to Kirk. “All right, then,” she said. “Let’s get this over with.”

  Despite the seriousness of the situation, Kirk grinned. “You’re beginning to sound a lot like Doctor McCoy, Ambassador.”

  “If we’re going to keep getting into firefights with Romulans,” Sortino said, “you should probably start calling me Dana.”

  Shrugging, Kirk said, “Only if you call me Jim.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Leading the way back up the tunnel, Kirk wished he had thought to retrieve a tricorder from the Galileo before escaping back to the complex. That in turn made him wonder about the status of the two shuttlecraft outside, and whether the Romulans might take the time to ransack the vehicles in search of any valuable equipment or information they thought either ship might possess.

  I doubt it, he decided. All the fun is down here.

  Arriving at a T-junction in the passageway, Kirk paused, holding up his free hand and signaling for Sortino to remain silent. He inched his way forward, pressing his back against the stone wall and holding his phaser near his chest. Was it his imagination, or had a fleeting shadow played across the wall on the opposite side of the junction? Something that sounded like cloth or leather against rock was just audible over the low drone of the overhead lighting. Kirk held his breath, straining to listen for other telltale signs of someone in the tunnel, but there was nothing. Still, instinct told him that he and Sortino were not alone here, and when he looked at her he saw that her features, obscured by shadow, were clouded with a suspicion he was sure matched his own.

  Here goes nothing.

  Kirk dropped to o
ne knee as he leaned into the junction, bringing up his phaser and firing without even bothering to aim the weapon. The vivid blue streak of energy lit up the corridor, throwing into sharp relief the rock walls as well as the female Romulan officer standing no less than twenty meters away. She ducked to her right as the phaser beam struck the wall behind her, and Kirk noted four other shadow-laden figures lunging for cover in the passageway as he pulled himself back to safety. No sooner was he out of the way than a pair of disruptor bolts screamed past them, their shrill whines all but deafening in the tunnel as they drilled into the wall at the back of the junction. Kirk pushed Sortino in the direction of the passage leading deeper into the complex.

  “Go!” he spat, back-stepping as he held his phaser out in front of him. Shadows undulated from the other tunnel, growing larger and more distinct. Kirk took aim at the lighting fixture illuminating the corridor junction and fired. The effect was immediate, destroying the lamp and evoking cries of shock from at least two of the Romulans.

  Sortino yelled, “Come on!”

  When he turned to run after her, he saw that the ambassador had taken up station at another bend in the passage, bracing herself against the wall as she aimed her phaser back the way they had come. “We’ve got to get to the others!”

  Voices from beyond the intersection were growing louder with each passing moment as Kirk directed Sortino deeper into the tunnel. How far from the surface had they come? How much closer were they to the control room? Reaching for the small of his back, he grabbed his communicator and flipped it open as he continued his jog down the passageway.

  “Kirk to Spock!”

  This time, the Vulcan’s response was immediate even though the quality of the signal was still lacking. “Spock here, Captain. Are you all right?”

  “We’re coming your way, Spock,” Kirk replied, “and we’re being chased by Romulans, so be ready for us.”

  “Acknowledged, Captain,” replied the first officer. “You should also be aware that we are detecting the activation of several dormant systems within the Kalandan computer network.” There was a pause before he added, “We are not yet able to ascertain their exact purpose, but indications are that they are connected to the system’s security protocols. Logic suggests there may be something taking place in response to the Romulan intruders, as well as weapons fire within the complex.”

  “Blast your logic, Spock!” shouted McCoy’s voice from somewhere in the background. Then, as though the doctor had moved closer to Spock, he added, “He’s trying to say watch your back, Jim! You may have honked off something out there. Get the hell back here!”

  “We’re working on it, Doctor,” Kirk snapped, images and memories from the other Kalandan outpost rushing forth in response to Spock’s new information. He pushed all of that aside. There would be time to deal with it later.

  Maybe.

  Three more turns in the corridor, and Kirk was just realizing that he now recognized where he was when a figure stepped into the tunnel ahead of them. Kirk’s first instinct to raise his phaser and fire was quelled as he identified Spock. Lieutenant Ross Johnson and Ensign Nick Minecci, two security personnel who had accompanied the science officer from the Enterprise, emerged into the passage as Kirk and Sortino came abreast of them.

  “They’re right behin—” was all Kirk had time to say before a fresh volley of disruptor file exploded in the tunnel. Ducking into a crouch as something punched the rock wall behind him, Kirk gritted his teeth at the sting of stone shrapnel pelting his back. He put his hand between Sortino’s shoulder blades and shoved the ambassador through the open portal leading to the control room at the same time that he felt a hand on his arm. In his peripheral vision he saw Spock standing to his left, the Vulcan’s attention focused somewhere up the passageway.

  “Get everybody in here and shut the door!” Kirk shouted, taking up a defensive position just inside the threshold and aiming his phaser up the corridor. He waited as a shadow played across the rock face at the rear of a turn in the tunnel, which was followed by a figure lurching around the corner. The Romulan soldier, his round gold helmet obscuring most of his features, halted his advance as he saw the reception waiting for him. It was all he could do before Kirk adjusted the aim on his phaser and fired. The weapon’s blue beam caught the Romulan in the chest, and the centurion collapsed to the floor of the tunnel.

  “Johnson! Minecci!” Kirk said, keeping his gaze directed ahead of him and waiting for the next intruder to show himself. “Get inside!” The security officers were moving past him and into the control room when the next Romulan appeared in the tunnel. Perhaps having learned from the mistakes of his companion, the soldier did not step into the line of fire, but instead hugged the corridor wall as he aimed his disruptor pistol toward Kirk. When the Romulan fired, Kirk ducked just long enough to avoid the attack before leaning once more into the passage and seeking a target with his phaser. Behind him, he heard the sound of something exploding, and he glanced back to see one of the consoles erupting in a shower of sparks and fire. The entire bank of monitors and interface panels went dark, after which a low, rumbling klaxon began wailing throughout the room and the corridor.

  A sharp hum accompanied a vibration in the door frame he was gripping for support. Something made him look up, and it took him an extra instant to realize that the heavy, reinforced metal hatch was sliding down toward him.

  Move!

  He felt hands on him, pulling him to his feet and dragging him into the control room faster than he could have done on his own. Looking up, he saw Spock leaning over him, his stoic features betraying just the slightest hint of concern. The door finished closing, followed by the sound of metal locking into position with a loud, imposing snap. Though he had to strain to hear them, he still picked up the sounds of disruptor bolts striking the other side of the door.

  Spock, talking loud enough to be heard over the alarm, said, “It would appear the Romulans are discovering for themselves the quality of Kalandan construction techniques.”

  “You okay, Jim?” McCoy shouted, moving forward and extending a hand to Kirk.

  Nodding as he allowed the doctor to pull him to his feet, Kirk tried to ignore the klaxon as he eyed his first officer. “You could’ve warned me before you did that, Spock.”

  The Vulcan replied, “This was not our doing, Captain.” Turning, he indicated where Uhura and Boma stood before the banks of Kalandan control consoles, several more of which were active and appeared to be operating at a more furious pace than when he was last in the room. As they watched, Boma ran his hand across one of the panels, and the annoying siren ceased.

  “Thank you, Lieutenant,” Kirk said, relieved to be free of the irritating sound as he turned back to Spock. “You were saying?”

  “As I indicated,” the Vulcan replied, “new systems have come on line. We are still working to ascertain their functions, but I believe at least some of them are dedicated to overseeing the complex’s internal security protocols.”

  “And what might those be?” Sortino asked.

  His expression never wavering, Spock said, “I cannot yet answer that question, Ambassador, but I would expect that the protection of key systems and other areas of the installation would be a high priority.”

  “Which would include intruder control?” Kirk asked.

  Spock nodded. “That is a logical assumption.”

  “So,” McCoy said, “what you’re saying is, if the Romulans don’t kill us, this place might do it all by itself?”

  Turning to regard the doctor, Spock replied, “Colloquially expressed, yet essentially correct.”

  McCoy rolled his eyes. “I think I’m going to have that engraved on my tombstone.”

  Holding up his hand to put a stop to the banter, Kirk said, “Spock, can you do anything from here to override those systems, and maybe give us more control?”

  Spock nodded before moving toward the nearest row of consoles. “We are endeavoring to do just that, Captain.”
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  “Wait,” Sortino said, and when Kirk looked at her he saw that she was frowning. “Does anybody hear anything?”

  When Kirk realized what she meant, he said, “The Romulans. They’ve stopped firing.”

  “I doubt they’re just giving up,” McCoy said.

  Now standing at one of the control consoles, Spock turned and called out. “They did not, Doctor. They were forced to retreat.” He waited until Kirk and the others moved to stand next to him before he pointed to one of the console’s display monitors. Kirk realized the image was that of the corridor outside the control room.

  “A surveillance feed?” Sortino asked.

  Spock replied, “Yes, Ambassador. It activated as part of the security subprocesses.” He touched one of the circular clusters of colored lights on the flat black panel, and the image shifted to show the Romulans outside the room, firing at the door. “This is from a few moments ago.” As they watched, new beams of energy rained down from a point beyond the image’s borders, striking one of the Romulans. As he fell, his companions retreated out of the frame, somehow managing to avoid being struck by any of the beams.

  “What the hell are those?” Sortino asked. “They weren’t there before.”

  Spock answered. “No, Ambassador. They appear to be concealed weapons turrets—part of the complex’s intruder control system, which is now quite active. From what I am able to determine, there are similar weapons deployed throughout the facility. We can only assume that the system will view us as a threat, as well.”

  “That can’t be good,” Kirk said, allowing a bit of sarcasm to lace his words as he watched the display’s restored live feed. On the screen, two of the Romulans had returned, crouching as they pulled their fellow centurion out of sight around the bend in the corridor. “Is he dead, or just stunned?”

  Boma replied, “Can’t say for sure, Captain. According to this readout, the weapons can be set to incapacitate or kill, depending on the situation.” He paused, clearing his throat before adding, “I’d rather not be the one to test the thing’s limits.”