Chapter Ten
U.S.S. Enterprise, in combat over Aeternus
Stardate 3956.3
To outward appearances, my friend remained quite calm – almost remarkably expressionless, though I who knew him intimately could see the tightening of his strong jaw and the barely-perceptible nervousness couched in his eyes – as the window in front of us shimmered suddenly and then faded into a recognizable scene: a room similar to the one in which we were now standing, complete with workstations and seats, filled with the same basic (and quite garish) colours as that of the Enterprise.
There was, however, one very noticeable exception, and as the command chair swiveled to afford us a perfect view of its occupant I could not repress a shudder of loathing at the sight of the familiar domed forehead, the hooded eyes – and even that horridly reptilian trademark movement of his long neck. Professor James Moriarty was indeed alive and well (not surprising, for I suspected medical technology in this time thought nothing of performing minor miracles on a daily basis), if looking somewhat incongruous in that grossly bizarre gold uniform.
The tension in my friend's posturing relaxed of a sudden, as if he were more relieved to learn the truth than nervous about the encounter. Holmes only stood, arms folded, and surveyed his old nemesis to his satisfaction. "Well, well," was all he remarked after a tense pause. "Professor. This century appears to agree with you better than the nineteenth did."
The man's oscillating head moved upwards in acknowledgment. "Sherlock Holmes. At the risk of sounding rather cliche'd, I admit I was not expecting to meet you here, sir."
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kirk glance incredulously at his First Officer, obviously expecting the men to be openly antagonistic and hostile; how little they really knew of our time's sense of propriety and fair-play was anyone's guess. But I knew Holmes, and thereby Moriarty, better than most; while they were on opposite sides of the law, theirs had been one of those dancingly brilliant conflicts that, had the lines been drawn a pace or two a different direction, could have put them both on the same side rather than the opposites. Horror of the Professor's depravity, by Holmes's own admission, had long since in the detective's mind been submerged under admiration for his skill, and if I was not much mistaken the feeling, for lack of a better word, was quite mutual. (1)
"I, on the other hand, was expecting an encounter," my friend replied coolly. "Anticipating it, in fact. "
A mirthless smile, more sinister than the darkest scowl in that lined face, punctuated the man's next sentence. "Since I doubt you hurled yourself into that special anomaly that was the Reichenbach Falls, Holmes, I may safely assume you were fetched for the purpose of thwarting my plans of controlling this magnificently advanced universe. Ah, Doctor Watson," he added, his eyes flitting to me for the first time. "I had entertained hopes that Moran would have better employed that air-rifle of his from the top of the Falls, but he always was a sentimental fool when it came to his fellow soldiers. No matter. You are here, gentlemen, and so historyappears to repeat itself."
"Indeed," Holmes observed mildly. "Complete with your organization on the verge of disintegration, and a stand-off between key players in the drama? At the risk of quoting the good Doctor's melodramatic account of our last meeting - there can be but one outcome."
Silently, those hooded eyes fastened upon me first, and then moved slowly around the Bridge to light on every man or woman present. Finally they flicked back to Holmes, in a rapid motion designed to startle and intimidate.
Fortunately, Sherlock Holmes was not so easily cowed. Despite his obvious enjoyment of the verbal fencing, he was well aware of the situation's gravity, and acted accordingly. Our comrades from the future stood silently and permitted him to take the helm of the conversation. "You know, of course, why I am here, Professor?"
"Indeed." Solemnly, the man blinked twice, in carefully measured motions, and assumed a bored air. "Though I wish you more luck in my extermination than you have had to date."
While Holmes had been stalling with our old enemy, I saw Kirk had made a slicing motion across his throat toward the woman seated behind him, and he spoke up suddenly. "It's muted now," he told Holmes, and turned to his crew. "Our orders are to draw him away from the Portal first, before attempting to capture him. It's too dangerous to have him loose, like this, so close to the Guardian. Prepare to jump to warp on my mark, Mr. Sulu."
"Aye, sir. Course plotted and laid in."
"Commander," Kirk spoke up from behind Holmes, once the communication had been restored. "You understand that I have orders to escort you away from the planet Aeternus before we resolve this matter."
Moriarty smiled tolerantly, moving his head to one side. "My dear Captain Kirk, if it is your precious timeline being disrupted that you are so concerned about, then pray let me assure you I am quite content with gaining control of this century, and have no desire to deal with the petty archaisms of my native one." The cool voice filled the small room, nearly freezing my blood at the amused derision it contained. "I have no intention of using that Portal of yours…for any purpose."
The window went blank, resuming its depiction of stars and, below, the purple-grey surface of what I trusted to be the planet we had been on.
Uneasy at what I assumed was a veiled threat of some kind in that statement, though I could not quite put my finger upon what, I watched as Holmes's dark brows knit suddenly. At the same instant I saw realization of the double meaning flash across the formerly expressionless face of Mr. Spock, and as if understanding somehow that something was wrong Kirk whirled his chair towards him.
"What is he –"
"Captain, the Dracone is powering up their phaser banks!" Mr. Sulu warned, fingers dancing across the flat surface in front of him.
"Evasive maneuvers. We can't take another direct hit."
"They are not targeting us, Captain," Mr. Spock said resignedly, turning grave-faced from his station. "Their phasers are locking onto the Time Portal."
A look of horror erupted on the Captain's face, and he punched the armrest of his chair. "Get me ship to planetside, Uhura!"
"Already trying, Captain – something is blocking our transmissions. I can't even hail the science vessel!"
"Sulu, concentrate all phaser fire on their weapons systems," Kirk said tightly. "Full power."
"Phasers ready, Captain."
"Fire."
For a moment, dead silence fell over the scene, and then the ship rocked once more with the impact of what was obviously return fire. Holmes's arm kept me from being tumbled roughly to the floor, but others were not so lucky. As alarms began to sound around us the Bridge erupted with blue-clad figures from the lift (judging from what I had seen, I assumed that was the uniform colour assigned to medical personnel), including the physician we had met earlier.
He took one look at the scene and gave vent to a very fine assortment of oaths as he jumped down to help the young Eastern gentleman back to his feet. The fellow was rubbing his head dazedly, and a few other scattered men and women appeared pretty badly shaken up, but the Captain was already back in his seat and his First Officer back bending over his station.
"Their shields remain relatively unaffected, Captain; down by less than ten percent. He has modified them somehow; no starship, not even the Enterprise, could remain in such unharmed condition after a space battle of this magnitude," Mr. Spock reported grimly. "By that line of reasoning, it is logical to assume he has found a way to easily block our communications."
"He was considered the most brilliant mathematician of our time," Holmes interjected, moving out of the way of a young blonde nurse. "I daresay three years is time enough for him to assimilate new methods and equations to use for his own gain."
"The Dracone's phasers are locking onto the Portal again, Captain," Mr. Sulu grunted, punching a button.
"Hail them," Kirk barked, swiveling his chair toward the large window and clenching one hand on the arm-rest of his chair. "Morbus, there are fifteen of the Federation's most brilliant scientists down there, and the most important historical discovery of our time." Receiving no answer, his other hand clenched. "Don't do this, Commander!"
The screen remained motionless, and no answer was forthcoming. Holmes glanced at me, seemingly unsurprised by Moriarty's ruthlessness, and sighed through his nose. Then the true impact of what the man was about struck me as with a tangible blow – if he succeeded in destroying that gateway, then Holmes and I would be stranded here indefinitely…possibly forever.
The thought turned me sick and cold, ice spreading all the way from my face into my stomach, and I was again surprised to see that Mr. Spock was regarding me curiously. Flushing at the idea that my thoughts had been betrayed upon my features, I hastily schooled my expression into blankness and glared at him defiantly, after which he merely inclined his head and turned back to his Captain.
Kirk glanced up at the two blue-clad figures who somehow had without anyone really noticing moved to support him on either side.
"One thing you should know before you make a decision, Captain," Mr. Spock said calmly.
"What is it?"
"We are reading only fifty-two life signs aboard the Dracone," the man reported quietly. "He has no doubt already disposed of any innocents among his crew."
McCoy flinched at the knowledge of so many deaths. "Then she's no more than a pirate ship now," he added, folding his arms and scowling at the silhouette outside the view-window.
Sulu's chair swirled our direction. "Dracone's phasers locked on the Portal, Captain, and fully armed."
Kirk's head snapped up in split-second decision, and his slouching manner dissipated into sharp tension. "Load photon torpedoes, Mr. Sulu." He glanced up at his two companions, who only looked back at him, and then he spared Holmes and me one reassuring nod.
"Torpedoes loaded and locked, sir."
"Full spread. Blow that ship out of the stars, Mr. Sulu."
(1) This is if we consider VALL to be Canon and not FINA; there are far too many plot holes left wide open and glaring in both FINA and EMPT, and so it's never sat well with me the tidbits we get about Moriarty in them. I firmly believe Watson knew far more than he was telling in either those stories or in VALL, and didn't tell us for various reasons. That's why I'm writing this as if Watson knows Moriarty nearly as well as Holmes, at least indirectly.