“Captain’s Log. Stardate 7413.4. Commander’s Sonak’s death deprived us of a valuable officer and a good man. But I’ve always believed that everything happens for a reason. It’s fortunate for this ship that said reason was made clear so quickly. The unexpected but welcome arrival of Mr. Spock provided us with valuable time to complete repairs to the warp engines before using them to intercept the Intruder. We’re now at warp seven and will make contact with our target while still more than a day’s time from Earth.”
As he felt the power of the
Enterprise’s warp engines pulsating through the deckplates beneath his feet, Captain Decker finally allowed himself to relax. Sonak’s death in the transporter accident would haunt him for a long time. The exact reason for the accident wasn’t known. But Scotty suspected that the faulty backup module had sent an erroneous green light to the transporter and allowed it to engage before being prompted by an operator. Because the system wasn’t properly assembled while it was in use, it attempted to rematerialize Commander Sonak with his internal organs outside of his body. The transporter’s built-in safety features should have prevented the error, but the disassembly of the system’s components had likely prevent the correct computer protocol from engaging when the transporter began to beam the Vulcan aboard. Subsequent crew members used the transporter to board the ship before its launch, so both Decker and Scott knew it was now functioning normally. But that would be of little comfort to Sonak’s family and friends. Vulcan or no, they would mourn his loss. As would his captain when the time was right.
Decker turned in the command chair to regard Sonak’s replacement. Whatever quirk of fate that took him also paved the way for his replacement. The
Enterprise’s new science officer was the same as her old one: Commander Spock sat at his post and looked as though he’d never been away. The science station was the aft-most bridge console, its location different compared to the ship’s previous incarnation. Prior to the vessel’s refit, the science station was located on the bridge’s starboard side, directly to the right of the communication’s station. The communication’s console was itself now to Decker’s left on the ship’s port side. Lieutenant Commander Uhura sat there. Hikaru Sulu was the ship’s pilot and sat at Will’s front-left. His navigator counterpart for this mission was not Pavel Chekov- the tactical officer who filled in at science before Spock’s sudden appearance- but Marcella DiFalco, who was at the captain’s front-right. Christine Chapel stood just over Decker’s right shoulder. When the physician learned of Mr. Spock’s boarding, she made a beeline for the bridge, eager to greet an old friend- and former love-interest, as rumor had it. Decker thought he’d never be able to serve on the same ship as someone he’d loved. He didn’t pretend to understand how Chapel could be okay with it. Then again, it’s not as though she’d known about Spock’s arrival ahead of time.
Spock notified only Admiral Kirk of his coming. The admiral was more than happy to reactivate his commission and issue orders that he be listed as Decker’s science officer, orders Decker was more than happy to follow. Spock’s help wouldn’t guarantee success. Decker nonetheless couldn’t help but feel the chances of his crew’s returning from their mission in one piece had doubled just by the Vulcan’s presence. Two years studying the
kolinahr may have made Spock more stiff than Kirk described him, but he was still one of the Federation’s most accomplished scientists. His intelligence and experience- and his admitted connection with the approaching entity- could only benefit the
Enterprise and her crew. Leaning forward, Decker addressed his Vulcan crewmate. “Revised estimate of cloud visual contact, Mr. Spock?”
Spock regarded Decker with a cold but nonthreatening look. “Short-range sensor scans estimate visual contact with the Intruder in three-point-seven minutes, Captain.”
“Any idea what we’re in for when we intercept?”
“Unknown, Captain. I know only the impressions I’ve sensed since becoming aware of the Intruder while on Vulcan.”
“What sort of impressions, Spock?”
“A consciousness of significant power. Thought patterns of an exactingly perfect order, like nothing I’ve encountered before.”
Decker considered his words. “I can’t say I understand exactly what you’re describing, Commander,” he said. “But I would appreciate your sharing any thought patterns you’re sensing once we’re in range of the Intruder. This mission hinges on our finding common ground with an entity that’s nothing like us. Impressions aren’t much, but if they’re all we have to gone on…” Decker didn’t finish his thought.
Spock nodded. “I will do as you ask, Captain.” He turned back to his console, their brief discussion at an end.
Will swung his chair around to face the main viewer, the familiar pattern of high warp represented on the large screen. Looking slightly to his left, he addressed his helmsman. “Mr. Sulu, prepare to adjust our heading once we’ve reached our projected IP with the Intruder. Once we’re in visual range, we’ll follow in a parallel course and match its speed.” Leaning back, he tapped a button on the arm console to his right. “Captain Decker to all decks: assume general quarters. Red alert!”
The bridge instantly darkened as the normal lighting scheme was replaced by the red of alert status. Will was vaguely aware of several crew members racing on and off the turbolifts as the bridge adjusted to the state of maximum readiness. The bulk of his attention was riveted once again to the main viewer and the now-rapidly approaching cloud. The enormous mass glowed an intimidating dark blue against the black-and-white starscape that surrounded it. The sight was made all the more unsettling by the realization that as the Enterprise continued its approach, the starscape was being pushed aside to make room for the growing cloud, an expansion not halted in the least by the ship’s deceleration and assumption of Decker’s requested parallel heading. Suddenly aware of the command center’s lack of lighting, Decker called toward the engineering station. “Standard light, engineer.” To Sulu, he added, “Full magnification, Commander.” Sulu complied.
The remaining stars were swallowed up by the cloud. Decker’s eyes widened in surprise. He hadn’t expected it to be
that big. His eyes snapped to Uhura. “Friendship messages, Uhura.”
“Transmitting friendship messages on all frequencies. No response.” Uhura was working furiously at her console, her face a mask of determination.
Chekov’s voice followed. “Captain,” he said. “All divisions confirm: status red.”
Spock’s voice was next. “Captain, we are being scanned.”
Decker paused. He’d been about to order a return scan of the cloud. But something at the edge of awareness warned him that doing so was a mistake. He didn’t know what that
something was. But he was going to listen to it. He turned to Spock’s station, his voice low but clear. “Do not return scan, Mr. Spock. We don’t know how our actions might be interpreted.”
“Captain,” Chekov called, “I recommend going to battle stations.” Decker met the Russian’s stare. “We won’t take any provocative action, Mr. Chekov. But a defensive posture of screens and shields might be appropriate.” Chekov carried out the orders.
Decker again looked to Spock, whose face was uncharacteristically blank. “I sense puzzlement,” the Vulcan started. “We have been contacted. Why have we not responded?” Decker’s eyes darted to Uhura. She shook her head. He looked back to Spock and inquired about the cloud’s makeup: an unprecedented twelfth-power energy field. Will started to turn back toward the viewer when Spock again caught his attention. “Captain,” the science officer was saying, his voice betraying a certainty he may not have realized he felt, “I suspect there’s an object at the heart of that cloud.”
Will rose from his chair, circling behind it and wandering toward the navigator station where Chief DiFalco worked. Placing a hand on the back of her chair, he leaned toward her right ear, his voice firm but patient. “Chief, plot us a conic-section flight path to the cloud center. We’ll stay parallel to whatever’s inside it.”
Sulu turned from his console. “We’re going in, sir?” His voice betrayed his surprise.
Decker shrugged. “Under different circumstances, I might have opted for a more cautious approach. But we don’t know anything about this cloud, and it’s less than a day from its destination. Maybe I’m taking an unwarranted gamble, but given the choice between risking the ship and risking the safety of Earth, there really isn’t much of a choice there.”
“Aye, sir.” Sulu turned back to his console.
It was at that moment that the bridge’s alert klaxon began wailing to signal a new threat to the ship. On the viewscreen, the cloud seemed to light up in a way that reminded Decker of a Midwest summer evening’s storm. But the lightning was gone just as quickly as it began, replaced by an enormous sphere of energy. And the sphere was getting bigger. Around him, his crew was shouting. Uhura was repeating may-day hails to Starfleet command. Spock spun a narrative about the sphere representing an unknown form plasma energy propelled by an equally mysterious guidance system. Chekov was issuing instructions via com-link about shunting auxiliary power to the main deflector dish. Under different circumstances, Decker would have been proud of his crew’s ability to work together after so short a time. Today however, he sank back into the captain’s chair, his next orders carrying with them the full authority of his command. “Full power to shields and force-fields. All decks brace for impact!”
The sphere hit the
Enterprise on the forward most section of the primary hull. A jolt traveled through the bridge that sent several officers tumbling out of their chairs. Will was glad he remembered to use his chair-arms to keep himself in place. He felt his body lurch forward and to the side. On the viewer, blue and green bolts of electricity arched across the display screen. The overhead lights flickered. Decker tapped a button on his chair’s right arm. “Engineering, what’s the status of our force-fields?”
Scotty’s reply didn’t comfort him.
“The system’s overloading, Captain.” What followed was even worse.
Energy discharges were spewing forth from computer consoles all over the bridge. Decker leaped forward to yank DiFalco back from her console before one of the discharges struck her midsection. Sulu was out of his chair and gazing warily at the plasma energy that snaked around the helm’s manual control lever. But all three were more fortunate than Chekov, whose sudden shriek of agony was more than enough to draw their attention away from helm and navigation and toward the tactical alcove. Chekov was slumped over in his seat, his right arm showing evidence of severe burns. The familiar scent of ozone mixed with burned flesh filled the bridge. Decker was about to call for sickbay’s assistance when he heard Dr. Chapel’s voice behind him. “Medical team to the bridge on the double!” she shouted. The captain looked back at the viewer just in time to see the last discharges from the Intruder dissipate. Once they were gone, it seem almost as though they’d never been there at all. Decker again stabbed his chair-arm.
“Damage report, Mr. Scott.”
“Our shields cannot handle another attack.” Decker thought he heard shouting in engineering, as well. Whatever was happening down there, Chapel and her staff would have their work cut out for them. If the ship lasted long enough. Decker steepled his hands as he leaned forward in the center seat. His elbows rested on its arms. His eyes caught sight of Chekov being led away by the doctor and her assistants. His ears heard Spock’s voice behind him.
“Captain,” Spock began, “The cloud has made attempts to contact us. Its technology is so advanced that its message lasts only a millisecond. Our last communique was too primitive to be understood. I’m now programming our computer to transmit at their frequency and rate of speed. Perhaps this attempt will be more fruitful.” Will didn’t argue with the man’s logic. He couldn’t. So he merely nodded his head before turning back to the screen. He was just in time to see the birth of another plasma weapon, conceived of the same lightning storm as its predecessor. But the
Enterprise was no longer a shelter, its defenses battered and bruised by the previous sphere’s onslaught. Knowing it was futile, he tapped his control arm.
Scotty’s voice.
“Scott here, sir.”
“Can we give you any more power to work with, Mr. Scott?”
“Negative, Captain. Even at full emergency, we’d only have about ten seconds before our shield generators burned out completely.”
And then we’d be finished, Decker thought. He whipped his chair to Spock. Rising, he shouted over the again-active alert klaxon. “Is your transmission ready, Commander?” When Spock didn’t reply, he looked to DiFalco. “How much time, Chief?”
“Fifteen seconds.”
He looked at Spock again. “Mr. Spock?”
“Ten seconds.”
Decker leaned forward, his hands resting on the outer support rail that surrounded the command module. “Spock? Where’s that transmission?”
Spock snapped from his reverie and pushed a button on his console. Uhura’s affirmative statement indicated a successful transmission. But would the Intruder recognize it for what it was? The answer came moments later. The enlarging plasma globe disappeared. Its accompanying lightning storm was gone, too. Decker turned back to Spock. “I’d say they got our message, Commander.”
“Most logical, Captain.”
“Opinion on our next move?”
Spock didn’t hesitate. “I recommend we proceed, Captain.”
Decker looked to Sulu. “Your thoughts, Hikaru?”
Sulu did hesitate but his response was the same. “I think you’re right, sir. We don’t know what that cloud’s capable of, but we also don’t know why it’s here. We’re running out of time. I think we have to take a look inside.”
Decker nodded, his mind made up. “Then we stick with the plan. Chief DiFalco, maintain course. We’ll stay parallel to anything inside. Steady as she goes, Mr. Sulu.” And
Enterprise disappeared into the unknown.
