Bridge, U.S.S. Enterprise
2273(?)
Spock clasped his hands together before bringing them down onto the computer access panel. His considerable Vulcan strength shattered the controls, causing a few sparks and a short-lived hiss before the computer shut down the damaged interface and terminated computer access thus cutting off the screeching pillar of light that was the alien probe. The pain lasted but a moment, though his composure never changed. That was short lived however.
The tendrils of energy that the probe had emitted, connecting it to the science console, paused once it could no longer access their databanks for information on Earth’s defences, before shooting out from the illuminated device once more. This time the bolts connected with Spock, sending charges of searing pain across his entire nervous system forcing him to double over in pain, barely able to think let alone speak or act.
“Spock!” he heard Kirk yell, his voice sounding oddly distant despite being only a few short meters away.
His teeth clenched so tight he thought they might crack should the torrent of agony continue to grip his body to completely. Despite the pain that seized him, he became aware of movement and managed to look towards it and see Lieutenant Ilia approach.
Mustering all his strength he managed to gesture towards her to stop and croaked out, “No!”
Sulu grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back, away from the probes emissions, a second later and she would’ve been enveloped by them and experiencing what he was. He could not allow that.
The energy intensified. Tears of suffering welled in his eyes as they sought out Kirk, whose expression was one of abject terror as he bore witness to what Spock was enduring.
“Spock,” the Admiral repeated, his voice barely above a whisper was consumed by the racket of the probe though his sensitive pointed ears still heard him.
Before he could muster any last reserves of strength to say something, anything, to his closest friend there was a sudden burst of brilliant white light and Spock was no longer on the bridge of the Enterprise.
* * * * *
Sickbay, U.S.S. Enterprise
Leonard McCoy couldn’t quite believe what he was looking at as he slowly waved the handheld sensor wand over the figure that lay on the examination room bed (despite his protests earlier to Jim, he was glad to have such an advanced new sickbay at his disposal at that moment in time).
“Micro-miniature hydraulics, sensors, and molecule-sized multi-processor chips,” he stated, more for the recording of his exam than for anyone’s benefit. “And take a look at this.”
Across from him, Doctor Chapel operated her own scanner with the same level of grace under pressure he’d come to expect from the best nurse he’d ever worked with, despite how hard their current examination must’ve been for her.
“Osmotic micro-pump, right here. Even the smallest body functions are exactly duplicated. And every exocrine system is here, too…even eye moisture,” she added as she blinked back a tear of her own. She knew as well as he did, the object that lay between them was not Spock.
He glanced back at the scanner table, looking at what lay there. Every detail was just as it had been the last time he’d seen that damnable Vulcan before the alien probe had beamed onto the bridge (aside from the small glowing crystal nestled in his jugular notch), except his eyes lacked any sense of true life to them. During their many heated discussions and debates he may have called Spock an unfeeling Vulcan, perhaps even a robot due to his almost callus dedication to logic above all else, but now that he was actually faced with a robot all he wanted was his old friend back, just as he had always been.
Behind him he heard the doors open and he glanced back to see Jim enter, his face contorted with pain, worry and who knew what other emotions, they wrestled one another so quickly behind Kirk’s tired eyes. Beside him Decker was a strong and stabilising presence.
The ‘Spock-Probe’ looked at the Admiral as well, the vague flickering of recognition passed over his face. “Kirk.”
“Why not Kirk-unit?” Chapel mused, the hurt she had felt at being called Chapel-unit had been as evident as a slap across the face—something she had once done for the real Spock not so long ago.
“Gentlemen,” Decker said quietly before stepping back into the corridor.
McCoy followed but Kirk stood exactly where he was. He rested a hand on his shoulder. “Jim,” he urged softly.
Kirk simply nodded and followed him out. The exam room door locked silently behind him once more.
The corridor had been cleared as soon as Spock-Probe had arrived, security guards posted to keep all non-essential crew out of the section, which meant they were free to speak without anyone overhearing them. McCoy tried to focus on the science of it all, he couldn’t dwell on what had happened to Spock, their time was short and billions of lives depended on them. Decker looked to be on the same page, but the shellshocked Kirk was clearly struggling between his dedication to his friend and to Starfleet.
“What happened to him?” asked Decker.
“That…probe in there is a perfect mechanical replica of Commander Spock,” McCoy stated, digging his fingernails into the palm of his hand.
“Probe?” Kirk asked.
“Its body duplicates him in precise detail. Suppose that beneath its programming, the real Spock’s memory patterns are duplicated with equal precision.”
Decker nodded thoughtfully as he stroked his strong chin. “They had a pattern to follow.”
“They may have followed it too closely,” added McCoy, sounding more hopeful than he felt.
“Spock’s memory, his sense of loyalty, obedience, friendship, might all be there.” Decker looked intensely at Kirk as he continued. “It would appear Commander Spock’s long-standing friendship with you does seem to trigger something in his memories, Admiral.”
Kirk bristled as he glowered at the Executive Officer. “That probe in there, in a different form now, is what killed Spock!”
Decker’s hackles rose at the latest snap from Kirk. Before he could say anything he might regret, McCoy stepped in between the two men and focused on the ship’s captain. “Jim, we're locked in an alien vessel, six hours from Earth orbit, our only contact with our captor is that probe. If we could control it, persuade it, use it in some way—”
The ear-splitting sound or ripping metal filled the corridor. Wincing, he covered his ears and looked at the locked door to see a hand tearing through the duranium panel as though it were a sheet of paper. In seconds, Spock-Probe stepped into the corridor to join them his face impassive and demeanour benign (despite having ripped the door off its proverbial hinges).
He looked directly at Kirk. “I have recorded enough here. You will assist me further.”
Kirk looked from the facsimile of Spock to McCoy, who hoped he offered up an encouraging enough look—this was going to be hard for all of them, though Kirk would blame himself for what had happened and would bear the burden of his own guilt as well.
With the best diplomatic smile he could muster, Kirk gestured down the corridor. “Of course, this way.”
McCoy and Decker watched the pair of them depart. At that moment, he felt utterly drained.
“Doctor, I’m concerned about that being our only source of information. What if the strain is too great for the Admiral?”
Resting a weary hand on the younger man’s shoulder, he gave it a light pat. “The Admiral knows what he has to do, don’t you worry about that. If he won’t do it for Starfleet, he’ll do it for his t’hy’la.”
* * * * *
Voyager VI Platform, V’Ger
The recess within which the battered and scorched remains of the Voyager VI probe sat felt like a tomb. James Kirk’s morbid thought no doubt spurred on as he looked across at the alien probe that wore the face of his friend.
Uhura’s voice over his wristcom brought him back to the moment. “Transmitting.”
Decker studied his tricorder as the signal was transmitted, whilst Lieutenant Ilia (none the worse for wear from her unauthorised spacewalk and encounter with consciousness that had evolved within the machine) stood beside the old NASA probe and rested a hand gently on its cool metal surface.
The XO’s device chirped. “Five-zero-four. Three-two-nine. Three-one-seven. Five-one-zero. And the final sequence, zero-zero-one. That should trigger Voyager’s transmitter.”
They all paused, looking around for a moment, each of them expecting there to be some change, something to indicate that V’Ger’s centuries long mission was at an end. But there was no change in the oddly still metallic plateau. Not the slightest change in the oppressively sterile air.
Ilia looked at her own tricorder. “Voyager is not transmitting its data, Admiral.”
The Spock-Probe turned to look directly at him. Those familiar yet foreign eyes bore into him once again, as though trying to see something that was just at the edge of his peripheral vision. “The Creator must join with V’Ger.”
He tapped his communicator once again. “Uhura! Repeat the final sequence.”
“The Creator must join with V’Ger.”
Ilia ran her scanner over the old satellite. “Voyager is not transmitting because it did not receive the final sequence, sir.”
Kirk stepped over to join her, looking at the results of her analysis. Even then he could feel the ever-present eyes of the alien probe on him, he tried to shake it off and focus on their mission.
“Jim, we’re down to ten minutes,” intoned McCoy.
On one side of Voyager VI he discovered a small panel with smoke escaping from its once pristine seams. In one quick movement, he grabbed onto the panel, yanked it off and let it drop onto the ground, feeling a brief sizzle of heat on his fingers. He peered inside and quickly took note that he was looking at the transceiver array, which crackled and smouldered an acrid black smoke.
“Enterprise stand by. The antenna leads are melted away.”
Beside him Ilia nodded. “Yes Admiral, just now. By V’Ger itself.”
Decker moved closer to them. “But why?”
“To prevent reception.”
“Of course!” the youthful XO exclaimed.
Realisation dawned in Kirk’s mind. He turned to look at the alien probe and held its gaze. “To bring the Creator here, to finish transmitting the code in person…to touch the Creator.”
“To capture God?” McCoy scoffed. “V’Ger’s going to be in for one helluva disappointment.”
“I don’t believe so,” said Ilia, her voice ringing with melodic excitement. “Admiral, V’Ger must evolve. Its knowledge has reached the limits of this universe and it must evolve. What it requires of its God, Doctor McCoy is the answer to its question, ‘is there nothing more?’”
The three men all scrutinised the young Deltan. Though he had only known her for a few short days, even he could see that change she had gone through after her mind touched that of the machine, seemingly somehow now sounding older and wiser beyond her years.
“What more is there than the universe, Lieutenant?” asked McCoy.
Without thinking, Kirk found himself replying. “Other dimensions, higher levels of being.”
“The existence of which has never been conclusively proved, therefore V’Ger is incapable of believing in them.”
“What V’Ger needs in order to evolve is a human quality. Our ability to leap beyond logic,” he concluded, staring at the face of the probe where he witnessed the slightest hint of his eyebrow rise. In that moment he beheld his friend, the man who was closer to him than any other. It was also in that moment that he knew what he needed to do, to escape that desk he had been flying for over two years, to seek out the adventure and thirst for exploration that had led him to reclaim the Enterprise. He needed to take a leap of faith and put his trust once more in Spock’s hands.
“And joining with its Creator might accomplish that!”
“You mean that this machine wants to physically join with a human? Is that possible?”
“Let’s find out!” exclaimed Kirk and before anyone could stop him, he plunged his hand inside the circuitry compartment and began to reroute the burnt-out elements.
“Jim!” McCoy began and took a step forward.
Spock stepped between them and in the blink of an eye a forcefield rippled into existence around the Voyager VI probe, cutting it, Kirk and Spock off from McCoy, Decker and Ilia giving him the few moments he needed to complete his task.
“I’m gonna key the sequence through the ground-test computer.”
“Jim! You don’t know what that will do to you!”
He paused for a second and smiled at him. “Yes, I do, Bones.”
“Admiral,” Decker began, a forlorn look on his handsome face.
“The Enterprise is all yours, Will, you take good care of her and she’ll always get you home.” He held his breath for a second as he held the last circuit panel he needed to replace and took a moment to look at Spock, who had moved to stand beside him, then at the trio of spectators. “Get going, all of you, that’s my final order.”
Ilia scrambled up the slopped side of the crater with the elegance and grace of a panther, Decker started following her but paused to grip hold of McCoy’s arm and pull him back up to the causeway. He gave the doctor a nod and felt a wide grin spread across his face, the sort of smile he hadn’t experienced since before he’d accepted his promotion, back when he had been Captain of the Enterprise. McCoy relented and allowed himself to be led away.
Kirk turned back to the old Earth probe and connected the final circuit. He felt Spock’s hand on his shoulder as a sudden surge of energy moved from the panel, up his arm, through his chest and then throughout his body. It was warm and comforting.
It was his chance to once again boldly go where no man had gone before.
* * * * *
END
2273(?)
Spock clasped his hands together before bringing them down onto the computer access panel. His considerable Vulcan strength shattered the controls, causing a few sparks and a short-lived hiss before the computer shut down the damaged interface and terminated computer access thus cutting off the screeching pillar of light that was the alien probe. The pain lasted but a moment, though his composure never changed. That was short lived however.
The tendrils of energy that the probe had emitted, connecting it to the science console, paused once it could no longer access their databanks for information on Earth’s defences, before shooting out from the illuminated device once more. This time the bolts connected with Spock, sending charges of searing pain across his entire nervous system forcing him to double over in pain, barely able to think let alone speak or act.
“Spock!” he heard Kirk yell, his voice sounding oddly distant despite being only a few short meters away.
His teeth clenched so tight he thought they might crack should the torrent of agony continue to grip his body to completely. Despite the pain that seized him, he became aware of movement and managed to look towards it and see Lieutenant Ilia approach.
Mustering all his strength he managed to gesture towards her to stop and croaked out, “No!”
Sulu grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back, away from the probes emissions, a second later and she would’ve been enveloped by them and experiencing what he was. He could not allow that.
The energy intensified. Tears of suffering welled in his eyes as they sought out Kirk, whose expression was one of abject terror as he bore witness to what Spock was enduring.
“Spock,” the Admiral repeated, his voice barely above a whisper was consumed by the racket of the probe though his sensitive pointed ears still heard him.
Before he could muster any last reserves of strength to say something, anything, to his closest friend there was a sudden burst of brilliant white light and Spock was no longer on the bridge of the Enterprise.
* * * * *
Sickbay, U.S.S. Enterprise
Leonard McCoy couldn’t quite believe what he was looking at as he slowly waved the handheld sensor wand over the figure that lay on the examination room bed (despite his protests earlier to Jim, he was glad to have such an advanced new sickbay at his disposal at that moment in time).
“Micro-miniature hydraulics, sensors, and molecule-sized multi-processor chips,” he stated, more for the recording of his exam than for anyone’s benefit. “And take a look at this.”
Across from him, Doctor Chapel operated her own scanner with the same level of grace under pressure he’d come to expect from the best nurse he’d ever worked with, despite how hard their current examination must’ve been for her.
“Osmotic micro-pump, right here. Even the smallest body functions are exactly duplicated. And every exocrine system is here, too…even eye moisture,” she added as she blinked back a tear of her own. She knew as well as he did, the object that lay between them was not Spock.
He glanced back at the scanner table, looking at what lay there. Every detail was just as it had been the last time he’d seen that damnable Vulcan before the alien probe had beamed onto the bridge (aside from the small glowing crystal nestled in his jugular notch), except his eyes lacked any sense of true life to them. During their many heated discussions and debates he may have called Spock an unfeeling Vulcan, perhaps even a robot due to his almost callus dedication to logic above all else, but now that he was actually faced with a robot all he wanted was his old friend back, just as he had always been.
Behind him he heard the doors open and he glanced back to see Jim enter, his face contorted with pain, worry and who knew what other emotions, they wrestled one another so quickly behind Kirk’s tired eyes. Beside him Decker was a strong and stabilising presence.
The ‘Spock-Probe’ looked at the Admiral as well, the vague flickering of recognition passed over his face. “Kirk.”
“Why not Kirk-unit?” Chapel mused, the hurt she had felt at being called Chapel-unit had been as evident as a slap across the face—something she had once done for the real Spock not so long ago.
“Gentlemen,” Decker said quietly before stepping back into the corridor.
McCoy followed but Kirk stood exactly where he was. He rested a hand on his shoulder. “Jim,” he urged softly.
Kirk simply nodded and followed him out. The exam room door locked silently behind him once more.
The corridor had been cleared as soon as Spock-Probe had arrived, security guards posted to keep all non-essential crew out of the section, which meant they were free to speak without anyone overhearing them. McCoy tried to focus on the science of it all, he couldn’t dwell on what had happened to Spock, their time was short and billions of lives depended on them. Decker looked to be on the same page, but the shellshocked Kirk was clearly struggling between his dedication to his friend and to Starfleet.
“What happened to him?” asked Decker.
“That…probe in there is a perfect mechanical replica of Commander Spock,” McCoy stated, digging his fingernails into the palm of his hand.
“Probe?” Kirk asked.
“Its body duplicates him in precise detail. Suppose that beneath its programming, the real Spock’s memory patterns are duplicated with equal precision.”
Decker nodded thoughtfully as he stroked his strong chin. “They had a pattern to follow.”
“They may have followed it too closely,” added McCoy, sounding more hopeful than he felt.
“Spock’s memory, his sense of loyalty, obedience, friendship, might all be there.” Decker looked intensely at Kirk as he continued. “It would appear Commander Spock’s long-standing friendship with you does seem to trigger something in his memories, Admiral.”
Kirk bristled as he glowered at the Executive Officer. “That probe in there, in a different form now, is what killed Spock!”
Decker’s hackles rose at the latest snap from Kirk. Before he could say anything he might regret, McCoy stepped in between the two men and focused on the ship’s captain. “Jim, we're locked in an alien vessel, six hours from Earth orbit, our only contact with our captor is that probe. If we could control it, persuade it, use it in some way—”
The ear-splitting sound or ripping metal filled the corridor. Wincing, he covered his ears and looked at the locked door to see a hand tearing through the duranium panel as though it were a sheet of paper. In seconds, Spock-Probe stepped into the corridor to join them his face impassive and demeanour benign (despite having ripped the door off its proverbial hinges).
He looked directly at Kirk. “I have recorded enough here. You will assist me further.”
Kirk looked from the facsimile of Spock to McCoy, who hoped he offered up an encouraging enough look—this was going to be hard for all of them, though Kirk would blame himself for what had happened and would bear the burden of his own guilt as well.
With the best diplomatic smile he could muster, Kirk gestured down the corridor. “Of course, this way.”
McCoy and Decker watched the pair of them depart. At that moment, he felt utterly drained.
“Doctor, I’m concerned about that being our only source of information. What if the strain is too great for the Admiral?”
Resting a weary hand on the younger man’s shoulder, he gave it a light pat. “The Admiral knows what he has to do, don’t you worry about that. If he won’t do it for Starfleet, he’ll do it for his t’hy’la.”
* * * * *
Voyager VI Platform, V’Ger
The recess within which the battered and scorched remains of the Voyager VI probe sat felt like a tomb. James Kirk’s morbid thought no doubt spurred on as he looked across at the alien probe that wore the face of his friend.
Uhura’s voice over his wristcom brought him back to the moment. “Transmitting.”
Decker studied his tricorder as the signal was transmitted, whilst Lieutenant Ilia (none the worse for wear from her unauthorised spacewalk and encounter with consciousness that had evolved within the machine) stood beside the old NASA probe and rested a hand gently on its cool metal surface.
The XO’s device chirped. “Five-zero-four. Three-two-nine. Three-one-seven. Five-one-zero. And the final sequence, zero-zero-one. That should trigger Voyager’s transmitter.”
They all paused, looking around for a moment, each of them expecting there to be some change, something to indicate that V’Ger’s centuries long mission was at an end. But there was no change in the oddly still metallic plateau. Not the slightest change in the oppressively sterile air.
Ilia looked at her own tricorder. “Voyager is not transmitting its data, Admiral.”
The Spock-Probe turned to look directly at him. Those familiar yet foreign eyes bore into him once again, as though trying to see something that was just at the edge of his peripheral vision. “The Creator must join with V’Ger.”
He tapped his communicator once again. “Uhura! Repeat the final sequence.”
“The Creator must join with V’Ger.”
Ilia ran her scanner over the old satellite. “Voyager is not transmitting because it did not receive the final sequence, sir.”
Kirk stepped over to join her, looking at the results of her analysis. Even then he could feel the ever-present eyes of the alien probe on him, he tried to shake it off and focus on their mission.
“Jim, we’re down to ten minutes,” intoned McCoy.
On one side of Voyager VI he discovered a small panel with smoke escaping from its once pristine seams. In one quick movement, he grabbed onto the panel, yanked it off and let it drop onto the ground, feeling a brief sizzle of heat on his fingers. He peered inside and quickly took note that he was looking at the transceiver array, which crackled and smouldered an acrid black smoke.
“Enterprise stand by. The antenna leads are melted away.”
Beside him Ilia nodded. “Yes Admiral, just now. By V’Ger itself.”
Decker moved closer to them. “But why?”
“To prevent reception.”
“Of course!” the youthful XO exclaimed.
Realisation dawned in Kirk’s mind. He turned to look at the alien probe and held its gaze. “To bring the Creator here, to finish transmitting the code in person…to touch the Creator.”
“To capture God?” McCoy scoffed. “V’Ger’s going to be in for one helluva disappointment.”
“I don’t believe so,” said Ilia, her voice ringing with melodic excitement. “Admiral, V’Ger must evolve. Its knowledge has reached the limits of this universe and it must evolve. What it requires of its God, Doctor McCoy is the answer to its question, ‘is there nothing more?’”
The three men all scrutinised the young Deltan. Though he had only known her for a few short days, even he could see that change she had gone through after her mind touched that of the machine, seemingly somehow now sounding older and wiser beyond her years.
“What more is there than the universe, Lieutenant?” asked McCoy.
Without thinking, Kirk found himself replying. “Other dimensions, higher levels of being.”
“The existence of which has never been conclusively proved, therefore V’Ger is incapable of believing in them.”
“What V’Ger needs in order to evolve is a human quality. Our ability to leap beyond logic,” he concluded, staring at the face of the probe where he witnessed the slightest hint of his eyebrow rise. In that moment he beheld his friend, the man who was closer to him than any other. It was also in that moment that he knew what he needed to do, to escape that desk he had been flying for over two years, to seek out the adventure and thirst for exploration that had led him to reclaim the Enterprise. He needed to take a leap of faith and put his trust once more in Spock’s hands.
“And joining with its Creator might accomplish that!”
“You mean that this machine wants to physically join with a human? Is that possible?”
“Let’s find out!” exclaimed Kirk and before anyone could stop him, he plunged his hand inside the circuitry compartment and began to reroute the burnt-out elements.
“Jim!” McCoy began and took a step forward.
Spock stepped between them and in the blink of an eye a forcefield rippled into existence around the Voyager VI probe, cutting it, Kirk and Spock off from McCoy, Decker and Ilia giving him the few moments he needed to complete his task.
“I’m gonna key the sequence through the ground-test computer.”
“Jim! You don’t know what that will do to you!”
He paused for a second and smiled at him. “Yes, I do, Bones.”
“Admiral,” Decker began, a forlorn look on his handsome face.
“The Enterprise is all yours, Will, you take good care of her and she’ll always get you home.” He held his breath for a second as he held the last circuit panel he needed to replace and took a moment to look at Spock, who had moved to stand beside him, then at the trio of spectators. “Get going, all of you, that’s my final order.”
Ilia scrambled up the slopped side of the crater with the elegance and grace of a panther, Decker started following her but paused to grip hold of McCoy’s arm and pull him back up to the causeway. He gave the doctor a nod and felt a wide grin spread across his face, the sort of smile he hadn’t experienced since before he’d accepted his promotion, back when he had been Captain of the Enterprise. McCoy relented and allowed himself to be led away.
Kirk turned back to the old Earth probe and connected the final circuit. He felt Spock’s hand on his shoulder as a sudden surge of energy moved from the panel, up his arm, through his chest and then throughout his body. It was warm and comforting.
It was his chance to once again boldly go where no man had gone before.
* * * * *
END
