Collision Course

by William Shatner

  Zee stayed silent. But her face revealed frustration.

  “All right, then,” Finnegan said. “Mr. Naderi, Ms. Del Mar, scan the vault as Mr. Kirk suggested.”

  Kirk looked at Spock, wondering if he’d have to change his opinion of Academy midshipmen, as well. This Finnegan seemed to be a reasonable guy, giant spring-loaded alien worms notwithstanding.

  The plebes weren’t yet proficient with their tricorders, so Finnegan let Kirk help them with the settings. Both got the same results—the security system in the vault was defective.

  “Is there dilithium in the vault?” Kirk asked Finnegan.

  Finnegan looked concerned by the tricorder results. “The warp core’s cold and not due for calibration till next week,” he said. “So I’d say yes.” He took another look at one of the tricorders, adjusted a few settings, then handed it back to Naderi.

  “For a moment there,” Finnegan said to the group, “with all this funny business going on, I was thinking to myself that maybe a few of my friends were trying to play a small prank on me. Though why, I couldn’t tell you. But now, I think we’ve gone a little too far and it’s time to move this up the line.” He opened Zee’s communicator.

  “You can’t do that!” Zee protested.

  Finnegan narrowed his eyes. “And why is that?”

  Zee sighed as if giving up. “Because it is a prank. Not on you.” She pointed to Kirk and Spock. “On them. Classmates.” She gave a sheepish grin. “Guess I played it too seriously.”

  An uncertain smile played over Finnegan. “Now I like a good joke as much as the next mid, but…” He trailed off as Spock moved to stand before him, head cocked, eyes questioning.

  “Mr. Finnegan,” Spock said, “do I look like an Academy midshipman?”

  That was when Kirk put the final piece of the puzzle in place. “It was you!” he said to Zee.

  Finnegan looked at Kirk, puzzled. But he didn’t stop him from talking.

  “You’re part of Griffyn’s gang,” Kirk said to Zee. “You got him Elissa’s codes to steal the Academy dilithium.” Kirk pointed to the vault. “And you’re here to steal that dilithium, too! How?” he demanded. “What’s the plan?”

  Zee stared at him like someone trapped before a stampede. But before she could defend herself or confess or simply argue that he was mistaken, a blaring alarm rang out, reverberating in the oversize engineering compartment.

  “What’s that?” Naderi asked.

  “It is the alarm code for an escape-pod drill,” Spock said loudly.

  Finnegan frowned. “But we’re in Spacedock.”

  And then, the ship’s computer voice joined the alarm, and to Kirk, everything became clear.

  “This is an emergency evacuation order,” the measured, mechanistic voice calmly intoned. “All personnel must abandon ship at once. This is not a drill. Repeat: This is not a drill.”

  Kirk knew exactly how Zee planned to steal the dilithium.

  He just didn’t know how to stop her. Yet.

  45

  The Random Wave was a small ship by most standards, and could easily fit within the saucer section of Starfleet’s Enterprise. Her flattened warp nacelles lay tight to her single, crescent-shaped hull. The configuration meant that her overlapping warp bubbles could be smaller and thus required less energy, though at the same time it restricted her top speed to slightly more than factor 4.5.

  In short, she was a commercial vessel intended for local voyages: the Alpha Centauri colonies, Vulcan, an occasional vacation run to Risa. To reach the Federation’s frontiers would take her almost a year, and yet, she was the ship Abel Griffyn hired to carry his illegal cargo to the general at the frontlines of the great struggle.

  The Starfleet analysts had not been able to calculate the reason for Griffyn’s decision, nor the connection between the stolen Vulcan artifacts and the disassembled components of Starfleet technology that Griffyn’s operation had amassed. When it came to finding a common pattern underlying that operation’s goals, nothing seemed to fit, which is why Starfleet had made the difficult decision to observe, rather than act.

  Griffyn, however, knew exactly what he was doing. And, unaware of how minutely each of his decisions had been studied and debated by those unused to true criminal behavior, he had taken all but the last few steps he needed to leave Earth.

  In less than twenty hours, the operation would be over, and he would return to the general, victorious.

  At the same time that Kirk and Spock were watching spring-loaded snakes burst from an engineering console on the Enterprise, Griffyn stood in the empty cargo hold of the Pacific Rome and took one final look at the safest home he had ever had. He felt no regret. His capacity to feel that and most other emotions had long since been beaten from him by the harsh conditions of the life he’d led in the general’s camps. His constant and relentless exposure to life and death, brutal punishment and sublime reward, had taught him to give highest value to survival.

  Satisfied that no trace of his operation remained on the freighter, Griffyn took out his subspace communicator and gave the order for transport. The hold dissolved around him and, a timeless instant later, he stepped off the transporter platform in the crammed cargo hold of the orbiting Random Wave.

  Dala was there to greet him, dressed in working clothes for a change: green overalls and brown boots, with her hair tucked into a cap. It seemed strange to see her without her usual shimmer of bold facial color, but she honored him with her usual insincere smile. It was a shame they wouldn’t be spending more time on this ship. He knew many ways to change that smile.

  Dala held up her own subspace communicator for Griffyn. “Right on schedule,” she reported.

  Even over the communicator’s small speaker, Griffyn could hear she was right. He recognized the blare of a Starfleet evacuation alarm. It had to be coming from one of the acoustical bugs his little admiral had placed on the Enterprise.

  “Has Zee checked in?” Griffyn asked. He walked with Dala toward the low cargo-bay entrance that led to the corridor.

  “Twenty minutes ago,” Dala said. “And get this—Jimmy Kirk and the Vulcan are on board.”

  Griffyn’s eyes lit up as he considered the new possibilities available to him. Since Elissa Corso had been separated from the Academy, she was no longer a candidate for taking the blame for a second dilithium theft. Kirk and Spock, though, could definitely be the new front-runners. Perhaps he wouldn’t have to sacrifice Zee after all.

  He hurried along the narrow corridor, turning sideways to fit through the pressure-seal frames. Dala followed close behind.

  “Has she opened the vault yet?” he asked over his shoulder.

  “Haven’t heard a thing since her last report.”

  Griffyn’s mood changed abruptly. The plan had called for Zee to place her open-link communicator on the dilithium holding frame once she had opened the vault. That should have occurred within forty seconds of the evacuation drill.

  “How long has the alarm been active?” he asked sharply.

  Dala checked the communicator readout. “Almost two minutes.”

  Griffyn slapped his hand against the wall control that called the small ship’s only turbolift. “Something’s gone wrong.”

  Dala tapped the communicator against her chin. “Aww, poor Zee.”

  Griffyn didn’t have time for any of this. He wasn’t about to waste a year of effort because of a last-minute foul-up. “Tell the others we’re breaking orbit. We’re going right now.”

  Dala widened her eyes ingenuously. “You’re not going to try to rescue Zee?”

  “What do you think?” Griffyn growled.

  Dala smiled. “Just what you’re thinking.” She kissed him until the turbolift arrived.

  In the main engineering compartment of the Enterprise, Finnegan ran for the main doors and they slid open before him. Then he turned back as he realized no one was following. “Can’t you hear the alarm?! Abandon ship!” The alarm grew in volume. Finnegan raised h
is voice to be heard. “That’s an order!”

  The two plebes, Naderi and Del Mar, indoctrinated in Starfleet procedure, bolted forward, heading for Finnegan, but Kirk blocked their way—to do what he had to do, he’d need all the help he could get.

  “No!” he shouted. “This isn’t a real emergency!”

  “Then what is it, for bloody sake?” Finnegan shouted back.

  “It’s to cover for a theft!” Kirk knew he was right because Spock nodded in agreement. “We have to stay here to protect the dilithium!”

  “Mr. Finnegan, what do we do?” Del Mar called out.

  All eyes went to Finnegan, including Kirk’s and Spock’s. The plebe’s question was correct. Finnegan was the ranking member of Starfleet. What he decided would determine if Del Mar and Naderi stayed or went.

  “You saw the tricorder readings!” Kirk urged. “The vault’s been tampered with.”

  Finnegan hesitated, then stepped away from the doors and they closed. “Right you are, then. Tell me what you know.”

  Though Kirk could tell the upperclassman wasn’t happy with his decision, he’d made the right one.

  But before Kirk could explain, Zee launched herself at Finnegan from behind, and with three quick blows to his side, his neck, and his head, she dropped him to the deck before he even realized he was under attack.

  Now flushed, breathless, she faced Kirk, Spock, and the two plebes.

  Kirk felt sure she’d acted from desperation, because she had no options. “You can’t fight us all,” he said loudly as he motioned to the others to fan out and surround her.

  But Zee held out her communicator as if it was a weapon. Warily, she began to edge toward the dilithium vault. “I don’t have to fight you,” she shouted. “I just have to tag the dilithium and I will be out of here.”

  A new electronic chime joined the evacuation alarm.

  “What’s that one?!” Naderi exclaimed, addressing no one in particular.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Kirk saw Spock reach into his shirt, pull out his Vulcan medallion. The chime got louder when the medallion was free. Kirk understood.

  “Stretch, that transmitter—is it working like a tracking module?”

  Spock snapped open the medallion and Kirk saw a small, glowing display inside. “Yes,” Spock confirmed. “But not for long.”

  Kirk kept his attention on Zee, moving between her and the vault. “Why not? The power cell’s running down?”

  “No,” Spock answered, his voice clear and loud. “This tone means Griffyn’s ship has left Earth orbit. Once he leaves the system, he will be out of range.”

  “No…,” Zee cried.

  Kirk and Spock both stared at her.

  “He doesn’t have the rest of the dilithium!” she shouted. “He wouldn’t leave without that! He wouldn’t leave me to take the blame!”

  Kirk understood exactly what had happened. Zee cared for Griffyn. But Griffyn had only used Zee.

  “Zee, listen.” Kirk tried to be kind even though he still had to yell over the alarm. “You didn’t get him the dilithium, so that’s why he’s cut you loose. You were just another one of his gang, no one special.”

  Zee, overcome, stared at the communicator in her hand, then suddenly threw it to the deck where it cracked into pieces.

  The alarm cut out. The computer voice announced, “Evacuation complete.”

  Del Mar was already kneeling by Finnegan, taking his pulse with two fingers on his neck. She didn’t look worried, and Kirk took that as a good sign. “So…Ms. Bayloff,” Del Mar said, “what do we do now?”

  Kirk groaned as the implications of her question struck him. Zee was still the ranking member of Starfleet. The plebes had to look to her. She could even order them to take Spock and him into custody.

  But Kirk wasn’t about to give control of this situation to anyone else, not when there was still a chance to salvage it.

  “Zee,” he said urgently, “look at what we’ve got here.” He gestured to include all of engineering. “A starship. Let’s go catch him!”

  Zee looked at him in open disbelief. “You think you can run this thing?”

  Kirk glanced at Spock. “I’ve read some operations manuals. How about you?”

  Spock swallowed. “Three,” he said.

  That was good enough for Kirk. He turned back to Zee. “We can at least try.”

  Zee stared at him in indecision until the other plebe prompted her again. “We need orders, Miss,” Naderi said.

  Kirk considered Zee’s shrug as her indication of defeat. He was right. She was out of options. Wild elation rose in him.

  Zee pointed at Kirk. “Do what he says.”

  The plebes had their orders and looked to Kirk expectantly.

  For his part, Kirk fought down his excitement and tried to look composed. He glanced at Spock. “You think you can find the bridge?”

  46

  The silver turbolift doors swept open and without a moment’s hesitation, Kirk rushed out.

  The bridge of the Enterprise was pristine, each surface newly refinished. The lenses of the optical controls at the science station gleamed like jewels. The gray safety rail that ringed the upper deck shone like a sculptor’s polished stone. The white duty chairs were spotless; the small hooded viewers on their flexible necks were perfectly aligned at helm and navigation; and the almost square main viewscreen displayed a close-up of a Spacedock brace with brilliant clarity.

  Against the subdued gray tones of the bulkheads and deck, and the pure black of the surrounding consoles, the myriad status displays of the ship seemed alive with intense and shifting colors.

  Kirk absorbed all of this in just a heartbeat, and the sensation of it, the sight and sound and even the crisp smell of it, burned into his mind as a permanent, unalterable memory.

  But even in that moment, there was no time to savor it.

  Kirk ran to the helm station, started to sit.

  Spock stopped him. “I can operate the maneuvering thrusters.” Spock pointed to the center of the bridge. “This is your mission, that is your place.”

  Kirk stared at the command chair, made no move toward it.

  “Even if we succeed in bringing the ship’s systems online,” Spock said, “Spacedock Control will not let us leave unless we can provide a sufficient explanation.”

  Kirk raised his empty hands. “I don’t have one.” So close, he thought, intensely frustrated, disappointed. Without that explanation there was nothing to do except wait for security to come back on board and then spend the next two years in New Zealand trying to get someone to believe him.

  Then Midshipman Del Mar said, “We were scheduled for a training cruise tomorrow.” She and Naderi were gently positioning Finnegan’s unconscious form on the upper deck by the engineering station.

  “That’s perfect!” Kirk said. He worked out a new plan in a second. “We’ll go a day early.” He turned to Spock. “Can you call up the cruise details on the computer?”

  Spock entered some basic codes at the helm station. “Already programmed,” he said, sounding surprised.

  Kirk looked past the command chair at the communications station. “Who knows how to run comm?”

  Zee took the position. “I guess that’s me,” she said.

  Kirk went to her, put an encouraging hand on her shoulder. “Let them know you’re a mid on a training cruise. The evac drill is over, and now we’re ready to go on our cruise a day ahead of schedule.”

  Zee found the controls for programmed hailing frequencies. “I’ll give it a try.”

  Kirk felt adrenaline begin to flood him. He spoke faster, moved more quickly. “Naderi, Del Mar—who can handle engineering? We’ll need propulsion.”

  Naderi stepped carefully over Finnegan. “I know the station, but I’d never be able to control thrust in such a small volume.”

  “Don’t worry about Spacedock,” Kirk said. “If they buy our story, they’ll use tractor beams to get us out of here. Once we’re in open spac
e, can you give the helm what it needs?”

  Naderi nodded, still somewhat less than confident.

  Kirk pointed to Del Mar. “Tell me you can navigate.”

  She snapped to attention. “Sort of.”

  “Close enough,” Kirk said.

  She took her position beside Spock.

  Kirk looked back at Zee. “What’s the word?”

  Zee appeared shocked. “Uh, they gave us clearance to go on the cruise.”

  “Really?” Kirk asked.

  Spock turned in his chair. “I would suggest we not allow them the time to reconsider.”

  “Good point,” Kirk said. He looked at the comm controls on the arm of the command chair. “Is it this white one?” he asked Zee.

  She pressed a control on her console. “Go,” she said.

  Kirk thought back to his cruise on the Mariner Princess. The captain had allowed him on the bridge for departure from the United Earth Transportation Hub. How different could it be?

  Kirk pressed the white button. “Spacedock Control, this is the Enterprise, ready to depart.”

  Kirk looked around the bridge, saw that everyone else was looking at him. Then a voice came over the bridge speakers.

  “Enterprise, this is Spacedock Control. You are cleared for departure. Stand by for umbilical detach.”

  From far distant places in the vast ship came the sounds of airlocks being sealed and the thump of umbilical tunnels and restraining clamps releasing.

  “Umbilical detach confirm. Sit back, Enterprise, and enjoy the ride.”

  Kirk directed everyone’s attention to the viewscreen. The Spacedock frame grew smaller as the ship’s optical sensor backed up from it.

  “I don’t believe it,” Kirk said.

  Spock turned back to him again. “Tell me about it.”

  The viewscreen in Mallory’s office showed an image of the Enterprise slowly pivoting in the berthing area.

  Mallory thought about what Kirk must be feeling and tried not to smile. His guest wasn’t as amused as he was.