Star Trek: That Which Divides (34 page)

“Spock!” Boma shouted. “Watch out!”

The lieutenant’s words were still echoing across the room when Spock heard the hum of some mechanism above and behind him. He dropped to the floor just as a brilliant yellow blast tore into the nearby wall. The pungent smell of scorched metal and other compounds hung in the air, and when he looked up he saw the ragged hole caused by the turret.

“Come on, Spock!” McCoy snapped, gripping the Vulcan’s arm and pulling him farther into the room. Looking to where he thought the energy beam had originated, Spock saw a weapon turret that until this moment had not been present on the wall. He reasoned that it must have resided within a hidden compartment, activating now in response to the use of weapons fire in the room.

Another phaser firing caught his attention, and Spock looked to where Lieutenant Johnson was crouching against the far wall, closer to the door. He was firing at the Romulans, and before Spock could warn him the security officer glanced toward the turret ceiling before lunging to his left. Just managing to avoid the automated drone as it fired at him, Johnson threw himself to the floor and slid into another of the control consoles. Scrambling to his feet, the lieutenant brought up his phaser and again aimed
it at the door, firing even as he dodged to his right and doing his best to avoid the new threat within the room. The Romulan now in the doorway fired his disruptor at Johnson, and for his effort was rewarded by a blast from the automated turret. The salvo struck the centurion and he cried out, pushing himself back through the doorway to relative safety.

“Our weapons!” Spock heard Boma shout. “The system’s designed to react to weapons fire!”

Johnson, reacting to the warning, turned and pointed his phaser at the turret and fired. The blue beam struck the weapon, but the stun setting did nothing to affect the drone before it fired again. Though Johnson dodged to avoid the attack the turret was faster, its beam catching the security officer in the back and sending him crashing to the floor. The whine of another phaser, this one much more powerful, wailed in the room, and Spock turned to see Boma firing at the weapon mount. Erupting in a shower of sparks and debris, the turret came apart and pieces of it crashed to the floor.

Standing next to Boma, Uhura had brandished her own phaser and now was firing multiple strikes toward the door. The shots drove back the Romulan centurion trying to make his way through the entry before one beam struck his shoulder and he fell forward, crumpling to the floor inside the room. Another figure appeared behind him, and Boma dispatched him with speed and accuracy. The centurion’s body fell backward and out of sight.

“Mister Boma, secure the entrance,” Spock said, following McCoy as the doctor crossed the room to where Johnson had fallen.

Boma shouted, “Aye, sir!” Moving forward, he took an
extra moment to collect two disruptor pistols dropped by their Romulan owners before taking up a kneeling stance near the compromised door. “Mister Spock,” he said, and when the first officer looked in his direction, Boma was holding two small, dark objects in his left hand. “Charges, like the one they used on the door. This isn’t the sort of thing Romulan soldiers typically carry, is it?”

“No,” Spock replied. “It’s not.” Were these Romulan reinforcements? How had they gotten into the complex? “Mister Boma, use your tricorder to scan for additional Romulan life signs.”

The lieutenant’s tricorder emitted its characteristic high-pitched whine as Boma conducted a sweep, after which he nodded. “Readings are still fluctuating, Mister Spock, but I’m definitely picking up more Romulans than we had before. Looks to be a half dozen or so.”

“Are you able to ascertain whether the surface entrance has been breached?” Spock asked, returning his attention to watching McCoy work on Johnson.

Boma said, “Not from here, sir. Scans are being scattered beyond three hundred meters or so, but they had to come from somewhere.”

Moving to take up a position on the opposite side of the entryway, Uhura held her phaser ready as she glanced to where McCoy was kneeling next to Johnson. “Is he all right, Doctor?”

McCoy replied, “I don’t know yet,” even as he held his medical tricorder in his left hand while extracting one of his diagnostic scanners from the unit’s accessory compartment. For his part, Johnson, lying on his side, was conscious, though Spock could see that the man was suffering some degree of pain.

“Feels like my back’s on fire, Doc,” he said, gritting his teeth and clenching his eyes shut.

Waving the scanner over the injured security officer’s back, McCoy said, “There’s some cellular disruption.” He glanced at Spock, “Not all that different from that trick of Losira’s on the other Kalandan planet.”

“Perhaps a precursor to that weapon?” Spock asked.

“I don’t know,” the doctor snapped, “and right now, I don’t really care, but at least now I know how to treat it.” He deactivated the scanner before reaching for the medical kit on his left hip and extracting a hypospray. Fitting the device with a capsule of medication from the kit, McCoy leaned forward and pressed it to Johnson’s right arm. Spock heard the hypospray’s pneumatic hiss as the medicine was administered, and seconds later Johnson’s body relaxed as the drug took effect, the look of discomfort already fading from his features.

“Thanks, Doc,” Johnson said, his words soft and slurred, doubtless from the effects of whatever medicine McCoy had given him. “For a minute, I was starting to worry that my luck might finally be running out.”

Though he had often found himself uncertain as to what he might offer to an injured subordinate if circumstances like this presented themselves, Spock said, “If I’m not mistaken, Lieutenant, you have managed to endure numerous dangerous situations while serving as a member of the
Enterprise
crew. I expect that even while suffering Doctor McCoy’s ministrations, your record will remain unblemished once this mission is concluded.”

McCoy, in the midst of reaching for Johnson—presumably to inspect the injured man’s back—stopped in mid-motion before turning to regard Spock with an expression
the Vulcan recognized as surprise. “Who are you, and what’ve you done with Spock? Aren’t you forgetting something, like this whole place getting ready to blow up and us with it?”

“I have forgotten nothing, Doctor.” Rising to his feet, Spock moved to where Boma still guarded the door. “A most timely intervention on your part, Lieutenant.”

Offering a small smile, Boma said, “Seemed like the logical thing to do, sir. I thought you of all people would appreciate that.”

“Indeed,” Spock replied.

Across from Boma, Uhura said, “I was able to read part of the programming code, sir. The security system’s designed to escalate its responses based on the threats it identifies. First it targets other weapons, based on usage. If Mister Boma hadn’t taken out that turret when he did, it eventually would’ve neutralized all of our phasers at once, and probably us with them.”

“The same would’ve been true with the Romulans,” Boma added, “but I figured it was better not to chance waiting to see what the computer would do.” Frowning, he added, “What I don’t understand is why it targets the weapons rather than the people carrying them.”

“It could be that the system was designed to remove threats to sensitive equipment and other inhabitants without causing undue harm to persons,” Spock said.

“Maybe,” Boma replied. “Still seems kind of odd, though.”

Still hovering over Johnson, McCoy said, “The alternative could be Losira or one of her sisters and her little love touches, you know.”

Spock cast glances toward the scorched remnants of
several consoles at different points around the room. “Mister Boma, did the Romulans cause sufficient damage as to render the equipment in this room unusable?”

Shrugging, the lieutenant answered, “I’m not sure, but they did hit several stations we were using. We need to take a closer look.”

At Spock’s request Uhura moved to one of the consoles that was still functioning, though several of its control panels and displays were inactive. After a moment, she shook her head. “I don’t know if I can work with the equipment in this condition, Mister Spock.”

Not surprised at that report, Spock reached for his communicator and activated it. “Spock to Captain Kirk.” In response to his summons, he received nothing but static.

“Where are they?” McCoy asked as he helped Johnson to a sitting position.

“Based on his last status report,” Spock said, “I presume the captain is still attempting to access the third operations chamber, or at least deny the Romulans from doing the same.” So affected had communications been at that point that the captain had barely been able to report his encounter with Romulans near the second control room. Spock knew that the quality of signal would only grow worse the deeper Kirk and his team ventured into the Kalandan complex. The larger problem, he knew, was that it would take precious time for the captain and his party to reach that area of the facility, and that was without the added impediment of any Romulans who might be in pursuit.

“Gather your essential equipment,” he said. “We are moving to the next operations room.”

Still kneeling next to Johnson, McCoy asked, “What are you doing, Spock?”

“If we are to secure control of this facility,” Spock said as he slung his tricorder over his shoulder, “we must regain access to the internal network. As this room is no longer serviceable, our only option is to relocate. That is also very likely our best option for regaining contact with Captain Kirk.”

McCoy gestured to Johnson. “He’s in no condition to travel.”

“I’m okay, sir,” the security officer said, though Spock noted how weak he sounded. “Just give me something to get me back on my feet.”

“Why did I know you were going to say that?” the doctor asked, muttering something else even Spock could not hear as he once more pulled the hypospray from his medical kit. Looking up as he readied the injection, he asked, “Jim said he sealed that control room—destroyed its control panel or some such damned thing. How are you planning to get in there?”

Spock turned back to Boma as the lieutenant was placing the pair of shaped charges into his utility satchel. “If I’m unable to bypass the door’s access controls, then I believe the Romulans will provide us with everything we’ll need.”

The only complication, Spock knew, was getting to that room ahead of the Romulans.

“Commander?”

Vathrael almost fired her disruptor at the figure who stepped into view at the far end of the corridor, but raised the weapon at the last instant upon recognizing the new arrival as her first officer.

“Sirad,” she said, allowing more than a hint of relief to creep into her voice. After the brief, trouble-laden communications she had shared with him upon his forced entry into the complex and the difficulties he had reported facing after his first encounter with the Starfleet group, it was good to see that he had weathered that incident well enough.

“I lost two centurions during our skirmish,” the subcommander reported. “So far as I’m able to determine, they’ve been incapacitated, though not killed. Despite this, it’s reasonable to assume that the humans know our numbers are now greater than theirs.”

Standing behind Vathrael along with Drixus and the other centurions in her party, Subcommander Atrelis said, “I don’t know that simply outnumbering our opponents is an advantage, given their obvious greater knowledge of this complex’s technology.”

Sirad replied, “Agreed, which is why I decided to confront the humans directly. I thought that a prisoner might prove useful to our understanding of the equipment.”

Based on what Vathrael had observed as well as what Sirad had reported, it seemed that the humans’ command of the alien mechanisms within this complex was even greater than could be justified by the brief period of time they had been here. Was it possible that Starfleet had encountered other examples of the technology contained within this underground installation? If that was the case, then information pertaining to such a discovery likely was sealed away under stringent security, as was Starfleet’s habit when it came to such important findings. While covert Romulan agents had proven efficient at stealing even the most protected secrets from within the halls of Federation and Starfleet power, it stood to reason that some things escaped even their calculated scrutiny. Of course, it also was possible that the very information she might find useful here and now was in fact known to her superiors, who in turn may have chosen to withhold that knowledge for their own enigmatic reasons.

Your paranoia will serve you well, should you ever decide to seek election to government office
, Vathrael mused.

“While I agree with your initiative,” she said as she regarded her first officer, “we must proceed with some caution.” She had already seen the consequences of haste, and of not giving careful consideration to all the facets of the current situation. Further mistakes could not be tolerated if they were to have any success at seizing control of this facility. “I have even given some consideration to abandoning this effort and returning to the ship. Fleet Command must be made aware of what is here, even if we are unable to secure it for the praetor.”

Sirad greeted her comments with a fleeting scowl, though his effort to conceal his momentary lapse in bearing
was commendable. “Commander, I don’t understand; the praetor must be made aware of the full potential this technology carries. We cannot ascertain that if we leave it in the hands of the humans. If what you’ve told me is true and a Starfleet captain is here, unable to contact his ship, would taking him prisoner not provide us with an advantage?”

“I suspect that the Starfleet captain’s ship is not simply waiting to hear from him,” Vathrael countered. “They will be looking for any means to contact him. We have a very narrow window of opportunity here; it must not be wasted. Where are the humans now?”

Consulting his scanner, Atrelis answered, “The readings continue to be imprecise, but I believe they are still separated into two groups. One is moving in the direction of the control chamber we investigated earlier. The other is moving through the complex on an adjacent level.”