Before Destruction!
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Jim punched the communication button again, "Kirk to
Engineering," static was all he received. "Engineering, report!"
"Hanson here," the din of extinguishers, and the crackle of
electricity obscured his voice.
"Mr. Hanson, report Engineering's status."
"We've had an explosion in the Jeffries Tube. Commander
Scott is being taken to sickbay on antigravs. Fire's almost out
but it looks bad down here."
"How bad, Mr. Hanson?"
"We won't be able to make repairs on outboard number one
without dry-docking. I believe if we tried to engage it again,
she'd blow in a matter of seconds, Sir."
"Is there damage to the nacelle's main reactor?" he asked.
"As far as I can determine, it's intact. We did lose the
Starboard engine's fail-safe though. The automatic power shutdown
to the engine was damaged in the feedback explosion."
"We noticed." Jim swiveled his chair to the engineering
station, manned by Spock, who was inspecting the console. Spock
nodded to the Captain, in confirmation to what Lieutenant Hanson
reported. "Do what you can down there and keep me posted. We may
need at least warp 3 in two hours."
"Aye, Sir. Hanson out."
"Mr. Spock," Jim rose from his chair. "You have the con.
I'll be in sickbay. Mr. Sulu, resume course for Organia, impulse,
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point 9 warp."
"Aye, Sir. Course locked in. Engaging now."
* * *
Sickbay was lined up with no small number of crewmen suffering
from minor abrasions to motion sickness. Nurses Evans and Downey
distributed medicines and applied antiseptics with the deftness
that earned them the privilege of their tour on the Enterprise.
The doors to sickbay parted and in stepped the gold and black
clad Captain, followed by Dr. M'Benga, who did not seem to be in
good humor.
"Not the best way to wake up, being thrown from my bed,
Captain," spoke the doctor as Jim turned the corner, oblivious to
the comment, lost in his own thoughts.
The beds were mercifully empty, save one, on which Jim saw his
unconscious Chief Engineer, with McCoy attending him.
"How is he, Bones?" Jim concernedly asked.
"I'll know as soon as I get this blasted shirt off him." He
put his medi-scanner down on the tray next to him. "Nurse
Chappell, will you hurry with that molecular separator!" He then
loaded his hypo and injected a pink liquid into his patient.
Jim went to the bedside and beheld the blackened arm of
Commander Montgomery Scott. Though he had several facial
lacerations, and bruises, his arm was by far the most serious. His
uniform had melted and fused itself to his right arm and his hand
looked like a badly toasted marshmallow. He could tell from the
readings on the bed's monitor that his whole body had suffered some
kind of trauma, probably a near-fatal jolt from the overload.
Nurse Christine Chappell returned to McCoy with the requested
instrument. The doctor checked the setting and wasted no time in
putting it to use, after switching on the bed's sterilization
field, a reflex action.
The Captain watched as the uniform fairly unraveled at the
touch of the instrument, losing its molecular cohesiveness. The
dust that was once a sleeve, was ionically drawn to the receptors
at the head and foot of the bed. What it revealed was not pleasant
to look at. Scott's last two fingers were clearly broken, and his
middle finger was completely gone.
"My God, Jim, what was he into?" spoke the doctor, not taking
his eyes off his task. "It looks like he's had his hand up a
thruster."
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"Security to the shuttle bay," came the First Officer's voice
over the main speakers. "Repeat, security to the shuttle bay."
Jim rushed over to the comm box and punched the sender. "Mr.
Spock, what's the trouble?" he asked, already projecting the
answer.
"Uncertain Captain, we received a condition red alert from
shuttle control, however, no one is responding to," his voice broke
off. "One moment Captain." Jim heard Sulu's voice in the
background but could not hear his words. "Captain, the tractor
beam has been disabled. It is most probable that,"
"Sabotage, I know Spock," Jim cut in. "Meet me in shuttle bay
with two phasers. Needle beam setting," he said, swiftly trying to
think ahead of the situation. "Belay that, Mr. Spock. Have Sulu
try to keep the Shuttle Bay doors closed, and meet me in the
transporter room!"
Spock paused in thought, for a split second, then, replied.
"Captain, I believe I understand your line of reasoning, but I fail
to see its effectiveness."
Kirk rolled his eyes up in his lids and sighed.
"In the least, it will avail nothing. But in the worst case
it could," Spock continued.
"Now Spock, that's an order!" Jim said, only slightly
irritated. He was very used to His First Officer's willingness to
offer more information than was often desired.
"Aye, Sir, Spock out."
Jim punched the sender switch again and the speaker went dead.
He looked over his shoulder as he made for the exit. "Take care of
him Bones, he's the only Chief Engineer I have." Then he exited
sickbay.
Dashing down the crowded corridor, he reached the turbo-lift.
He heard the familiar voice of the computer, announcing the ship's
destruction in 2 hours, just as the doors closed behind him. "Deck
7," Jim instructed the computer-controlled lift.
* * *
Lieutenant Kyle was listening to the intra-ship
communications, trying to determine the reason he had been thrown
to the floor and bounced around the room, a few minutes ago. He
leaned over the transporter controls, one hand supporting his chin,
the other, flattening down the back of his sandy colored hair. The
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entry door slid open to admit the Captain.
"Captain!" spoke Kyle, snapping immediately to attention.
"At ease, Mr. Kyle." Jim walked over to the controls, and
rubbed his hands together. "Is everything in its usual working
order?" Jim asked, assuming it was, since no mention of it was on
the damage report.
"Yes, Sir, I just finished the level 1 diag's a minute ago.
No damage was detected." He spoke with his usual English accent.
"When was it last tuned?"
"Just this morning, Sir. At the end of last shift. Saw em do
it myself as I was coming on duty."
"Very good, Lieutenant," he said, setting the board for
manual location-sensor lock and overriding the safety features. The
door slid open again, this time admitting the expected Mr. Spock,
who quickly moved to the controls beside Jim.
The overhead speaker came to life, "Sulu to transporter room.
Mr. Kyle, is Captain Kirk there yet?"
Kyle looked at the captain, who indicated that he himself
would respond. "I'm here Sulu, what is it?"
"Captain, Security reports that all guards and personnel
stationed in t
he shuttle bay, have been phaser-stunned. And, Sir,
Gallileo 2 is attempting to debark."
"Are the bay doors still closed?"
"My console says they are, but Security says," Sulu, being
in contact with both the Captain and Security, had to speak to one
party, while listening to the other. "Security reports the doors
are opening!" The ship beneath them rumbled and vibrated as if she
had run aground. "Captain, we have explosive decompression in the
shuttle bay!"
"Is everyone out of there?" asked the Captain with urgency.
There was a pause of dead air space, then, "Security has them
all in the airlock, Sir. No casualties to report other than that
of the men being stunned," reported Sulu, then added, "Shuttle
craft is launching now."
"Thank you, Mr. Sulu. Pursue shuttle craft and find out
if the tractor beam can be repaired soon and get those bay doors
closed," Jim said, reverting to a calmer tone for Sulu's sake, only
a little relieved at what he heard. "Kirk out." Jim turned to
Spock, "Our Mr. Grensk has been busy."
"It would seem," Spock commented with a nod. "Captain, if I
may." Jim sighed and indicated to Spock that 'he may'. "I do not
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see the logic in using the transporter to stop Lieutenant Grensk,
considering the way the transporters react when in contact with the
explosive. It seems equally futile to have ourselves transported
to the shuttle. Grensk's mechanical strength would be more than
sufficient to stop us." Jim knew Spock's line of reasoning was 'off
track' with the Captain's intentions, but out of respect for his
'Number One', he heard him out. "Logic suggests that we use our
weapons against the shuttle either to disable or destroy it, before
it is able to near the planet Organia. This would put ourselves at
grave risk, but will prevent the destruction of a planet."
"Spock," Jim placed his hand on his friend's shoulder, "trust
me. I have a plan, and while we execute it, I'll show you why a
humble Starship Captain can beat his logical Vulcan First Officer
consistently at chess." Jim moved aside. "Man the console," he
said to Spock. Then looked to the Lieutenant standing away from
his post. "Mr. Kyle?"
"Yes, Sir?" he felt entirely left out of the conversation and
was not just a little surprised by it.
"What you are going to see is classified, dangerous and
possibly a court-martial offense. So unless it goes before a board
of inquiry, mum's the word."
"Mum, Sir?", he asked, genuinely confused.
"Not a word," Kirk placed his index finger to his lips.
"Aye, Sir."
"Spock, are you able to scan the shuttle?" Jim asked.
"There was some interference, but I now have a positive sensor
lock on the craft itself," he said while adjusting controls. "You
mentioned Chess, Captain?"
Jim restrained the look of amusement that he was inclined to
facially display at the Vulcan's obvious curiosity. A quality that
Jim enjoyed seeing in his friend. "Sometimes, the passion for
winning, or the threat of losing, can be a 'well' of inspiration,
Mr. Spock. Such is the urgency of this situation. Lock
geographic sensors onto the explosive in Grensk's chest." He
observed Spock's operation of the equipment, confident that his
precision was equal to the task.
"Nothing personal, Spock, but logic can even hinder the
process that motivates, that drives us to decisions that must be
made. Deep concern about the cost of failure is another driving
factor."
"Secondary lock confirmed," he said, glancing up to Jim with
an inquisitive look. "Passion hardly seems a formidable strategy
in a mathematically logical game such as Chess. The end result
would seem to be chaos, rather than 'Check Mate'," he stated
matter-of-factly, in defense of his Vulcan heritage and their
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standing philosophy.
"Sulu, to Captain Kirk. Sir, more bad news. All sub-space
broadcasting equipment has been damaged beyond repair and estimates
on tractor beam repair is 5 hours."
Jim pressed the communications switch and responded, "Mr.
Sulu, I'm not surprised. Continue Impulse pursuit. Kirk out."
Then to Spock, "Locate the upper perimeter of the explosive, plus
10 centimeters." Spock raised an eyebrow, hinting of his
understanding at what the Captain had planned.
"You are correct in your comment comparing it to 'chaos' Mr.
Spock, as that can often be the result. But it is the balance
between the two: emotion used reasonably. We also have faith that
the unproven or the untried, can be accomplished, though we have no
evidence of it until it is tried. This 'faith' is the greatest
evidence I know of, that separates us from the animals, Spock, for
unlike them, we can believe in something that our 5 senses or
previous experience cannot corroborate or conclusively prove."
"Upper boundary from the Lieutenant's chest cavity, located
and confirmed," spoke Spock, still continuing the difficult
operation, while pondering his captain's insight.
"Lock transporter beam terminator to those coordinates."
"Transporter beam locked."
Jim took a deep breath. "Mr. Spock, energize!"
With controls in hand, Spock slowly moved the matter gain
levers forward. Pad 'A' started to shimmer and the outline of
something began to form. Then the base of the platform exploded
with a loud 'crack'.
"Cross circuit to 'B', Mr. Spock," spoke Mr. Kyle, as he
shielded his eyes from the blast.
Spock's hands worked to bypass the channel with a simplistic
ease that moved Lt. Kyle to envy. No stress could be seen in him,
every movement exactingly correct. Pad 'B' began to glow, in the
now, smoky room. "I am reducing termination boundary by 5
centimeters," he said above the hum of the machinery.
This time the shimmering on the pad began to solidify, and the
disembodied head of Lieutenant Grensk, began to take shape, less
than 2 meters above the platform. As more mass was added, the head
slowly descended to the deck and came to rest, eyes open and mouth
forming words without voice.
"Check-and-mate, Mr. Spock," said the Captain, as he went to
the platform and stooped to pick up the remains of the android.
Lt. Kyle stood speechless at what he had just witnessed. He
appeared to be an unwitting accomplice to murder. Jim looked over
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his shoulder at the lieutenant and realized it might be wise to
explain. Just a little.
"It's OK, Mr. Kyle, that is an android, not a human. I don't
think this qualifies as murder."
"A-aye, Sir," he said, blinking his eyes and fighting his
initial shock.
"The shuttle is starting to drift off course, Captain," Spock
said, looking at the equipment. "I am curious, sir, as to how you
came to suspect the Grensk android from the beginning?"
"As you did, you mean?" James said, sharing the credit. "It
seemed odd to me, simply the way he
looked at me. They say that
the eyes are the windows to the soul. Perhaps it was his lack of
soul, that was the tip-off." He looked at Spock and could tell
that the Vulcan was not buying it. In the past, they both had been
deceived by androids who had as much soul as Grensk. "Alright,
maybe when they removed the parts of his internal workings in his
chest to make room for the explosive, they damaged the circuit that
allowed him to blink his eyes normally. In the conference room, I
noticed that he seemed to be a bit sluggish in the 'eye batting'
department."
"That could explain it," Spock conceded. "With your
permission, it seems appropriate for one of us to retrieve the
shuttle and Lieutenant Grensk's body. I volunteer."
"Agreed, Mr. Spock. I'll have a security team with antigravs,
meet you upon your return. Be careful," he stressed the last.
"Mr. Kyle, you may return to your post and energize when
ready," stated Spock as he made for the platform.
"Aye, Sir." The Lieutenant reset the console and quickly but
carefully set them for the First Officer's destination.
"Captain?" Spock stated rather than questioned.