In the main transporter room, Spock readied himself for departure. Utility belts, tricorders, phasers – they needed to take enough gear to try and ensure the success of their mission but not so much that it would slow them down. At least they were able to leave behind food and water. If they were on the Romulan vessel long enough to have to either eat or drink, then they would likely have failed.
When word reached them from the bridge that the Enterprise had successfully emerged from warp and had entered Titan's atmosphere without being detected, Spock couldn't suppress both his pride and his relief. He imagined both came through in his tone.
"Well done, Mister Sulu, Mister Chekov." He nodded slightly as he finished strapping his phaser into its holster; a strange habit he was sure he had picked up from Harriet somehow. "If you think you have a tactical advantage, do not hesitate, even if we are still aboard. If we can't gain possession of the device but you can cripple their ship, then you'll be able to negotiate from a position of strength." He looked Harriet directly in the eye, quietly seeking her understanding. "Our survival is not necessary to the success of this enterprise. Understood?"
He was met only with silence on the com. Just as he was about to repeat himself, there was a firm response that Spock could appreciate.
"Understood Captain. Good Luck."
Normally, he would wonder what luck would have to do with it. But for the first time… he thought he might just understand the sentiment.
Having already equipped Kirk, his former student passed him a special translator. "This goes in place on your uniform, in the chest area. Far enough –
"I am aware of the instrument's optimal location," he replied in a voice he hoped was not indicative of his slight confusion. Why would she assume he did not know this?
"Yes – yes, of course you are." She took a deep breath before stepping back. "Be careful…sir." She stepped clear, turned, and exited the transporter bay.
Still at a slight loss for what he was missing, but knowing he was missing something, he looked over to Harriet. She very helpfully quirked her lips and shook her head.
Later then. For now, it was best to concentrate on the task at hand.
Nero joined the crew in admiring the vision on the view screen: the blue and white matrix of sea and sky that was Earth's most striking feature.
'So much water,' Nero thought in no small bit of wonder. On this planet before them, there was water in abundance where it was so often scarce on other worlds. Other worlds such as Vulcan. But now neither water nor anything else was a problem for Vulcan, or for the feeble remnants of that calculating, deceitful race, so what point was there in including them in his observations?
"It is beautiful, no?" he murmured aloud as he continued to contemplate the glowing image on the monitor.
"Yes, Captain." Having seen to the Narada's safe arrival at its latest destination, the helmsman had momentarily moved from his station to stand near his leader. "It is. I wonder why they decided to call it Earth instead of Water?"
A wonder indeed.
An awkward pause followed, during which the helmsman seemed to consider something.
"Sir, the men and I have discussed this. What we are about to do..." He hesitated. "We can save our home now. Stop this."
The intimations of wistfulness that had crept into Nero's face as he stared down at the planet he was about to eradicate vanished. His features hardened as he turned to face his first officer.
"We can go back," the officer continued. "That's what we want. We have taken our vengeance on Vulcan. We want to go home now."
Did he now? And who did he mean by 'we'?
He fingered his ceremonial staff. "There is no need to threaten me, Ayel. I understand. I understand – but you are wrong." From the wrong end of the staff, four blades snicked outward.
Ayel's eyes grew wide – as he fell backward onto the deck.
Harriet, for her part, had immediately gone to stand at the ready beside a transporter pad. Then proceeded to stare at it skeptically. Was now really the time to experiment with technology?
Come.
It was always slightly creepy to hear that raspy whisper of a voice.
I will not lose you.
'Cause that was any less creepy!'
She huffed and crossed her arms, still staring at the pad. She was already as prepared as she wanted, needed to be: satchel, medical pack, battle pouches, dragon hide armour and boots, wand holster loaded with it.
Come.
Right. It was just a small matter of being DEMATERIALIZED, then REMATERIALIZED, hopefully, correctly. Again, hopefully. Why was no one else bothered by this?
She looked up when the nearest com device announced they had successfully arrived, then sought out Spock's whereabouts. She was really starting to reconsider this whole transporter usage thing…
When he locked eyes with her and said their survival wasn't necessary for the completion of the mission, she calmed herself, nodded her head sharply at him, and stepped onto the pad. Now was not the time for shenanigans.
I will not lose you.
'Reassuring. Truly.' She chewed on a lip as she considered her options for opening moves, only just catching the tail end of Spock's interaction with his former student.
'Ouch.' In spite of the situation, she felt…something for the woman. But not enough to properly explain why she merely waved away the translator device. She didn't need to deal with the added complication of more technology possibly interacting poorly with her magic.
Besides, Allspeak.
"Okey-dokey then. If there's any common sense to their ship design and if it relates in any practical way to what we know of smaller Romulan vessels, then I'll be puttin' ye right in the cargo bay," Scotty told them. "Big enough open space to ensure ye dinnae materialize inside one of the crew. There shouldna be a soul in sight."
Harriet nodded along with Kirk. Spock, exuding more confidence then he likely felt, simply gave the command:
"Energize, Mister Scott."
Prepare.
A wand dropped out of a loaded holster into a waiting hand.
Three bodies materialized in the center of the Narada's not so empty, rambling, multi-compartmented cargo bay. The near dozen crew present reacted with surprise as what was clearly two Starfleet officers and something other began to fire at them with a deadly combination of speed and skill.
Being general crew on a mining vessel, they were not properly prepared to face the Vulcan that became nothing more than a blur of movement or the other that was nothing more than living, moving shadow. Something primal told them to stay away from this other, to avoid it if they valued breathing.
The presence of the human seemed almost inconsequential.
Thus, the closest crew members focused their attacks on the Vulcan. They surged forward, swings wild, their attempts to grab easily evaded. They swarmed him, attempting to use their numbers to their advantage, but attacking the Vulcan was like grappling with a shadow. And where the shadow wasn't dancing, a phaser was aiming, curtesy of the human.
Ultimately, however, the one carrying the phaser seemed to be more concerned with neutralizing the crew members who ran to sound the alarm, only just catching them before they ever had the chance to touch the controls. When the one armed worker present went to fire at the human from behind a column, the other noticed him, and before he could even properly raise his weapon to fire, its hand twitched and he fell, red clouding his vision before it failed.
It was over before any truly had the time to be thankful the other hadn't chosen to properly participate.
It took a moment for Kirk to realize there were no more attackers when he turned his attention back to his more immediate surroundings. Around him, there were only bodies lying unmoving and unconscious on the ground surrounding Spock.
Then the woman known as Harriet passed him, twirling an oddly knotted stick of all things in her left hand.
… where was her phaser? Hadn't she used a phaser? Someone else had used a phaser and it clearly hadn't been Spock… Unless, the Vulcan was just that good. Which, possible, but not the point.
"Can you gather the whereabouts of the device?" she asked the acting captain, taking up a guard stance to Spock's right as one of the bodies began to struggle back to consciousness.
In response, Spock knelt and placed his hands on the alien's temples and closed his eyes. After a grueling minute of waiting, Kirk grew rather anxious. His experience with the older Spock, Spock Prime as he'd labelled him, was enough to inform his guess of what Spock was attempting. Would it be that simple? Or would they have to resort to more basic interrogation techniques?
"Do you know where it is? The black hole device?" he finally asked. They didn't have time to –
"And Captain Pike," came the response.
As Spock moved off to find an input device, likely to check their own location and chart a path to their objective, Kirk spared another glance for Harriet.
Something was definitely off with the woman. He could clearly see another body lying unconscious not far from him, one that he hadn't engaged. Yet, even as he looked her over again, he saw no phaser. Nor did he find any evidence she had helped in any other way.
Had it been a wayward shot by one of the crew?
A torrent of tightly contained, tornadic plasma roared from the mouth of the drill platform with directed precision. As on Vulcan, the drill could have been aimed at any point on the Earth's surface. The most practical place for deployment, and the one that would have produced the quickest result, would have been the Mariana Trench in the Pacific Ocean. There, the plasma would have hissed its way through kilometers of water in mere seconds to strike the planetary crust at one of its thinnest points.
But Nero was not in a hurry.
Providentially, the rest of Starfleet was infinitely far away engaging in pointless maneuvers in the Laurentian sector. Even if the Enterprise or that other wayward vessel had managed to limp off to intercept them, they would be too late. Earth's multiple automated defensive stations had been electronically disabled, thanks to the codes extracted from the admirably stubborn, but eventually responsive, prisoner Pike.
The captured captain had resisted the interrogation manfully, but he was only composed of flesh and blood. He was not even aware that he had surrendered the information necessary to allow the Narada to safely assume its unassailable geosynchronous position above the west coast of North America.
'A valiant representative of his species,' Nero mused, 'however futile his efforts at resistance.'
He had already decided that his brave prisoner would live. Pike would comprise one of several interesting exhibits to be returned to the triumphant Romulus of this time frame.
"Magnification," he commanded.
The science officer complied, and the view on the forward viewscreen increased exponentially.
The view showed the plasma stream boring into the rock beneath an extensive saltwater bay. What could be discerned of the surrounding terrain was exceptionally beautiful. It was no wonder, he thought, that Starfleet had chosen this particular coastal location for the site of Starfleet Headquarters and its noisome Academy.
Reports from the drill's sensors indicated that the city itself sat atop a major but now stabilized earthquake fault. It was ironic then that it should be the site for the insertion of the red matter that would initiate the reaction that would destroy the planet.
Ironic, but also fitting.
He was pleased.
Harriet thought their whole arrival rather anti-climatic, given Death's warning. Perhaps he had been warning her for another reason? Clearly there was more to come but as she watched Spock's fingers work the alien input device speedily, she couldn't help feeling a bit hopeful about their chances.
Nonetheless, she refocused her mind on their surroundings, keeping vigilant to Spock's right as he continued to work.
"How the hell are you doing this?" came Kirk's voice. Why was he watching Spock and not helping her pull security? Not that she needed the help; she'd already seen to it that the six Romulans Spock had taken out by hand would not be waking up anytime soon. Not to mention the others she'd taken care of…
"I am familiar with the technology of several other space-going species besides that of Romulus. While the design of this instrumentation is different, it is not so radically advanced that I cannot fill in the divergences with intuition. One plus one equals two no matter where one happens to be in the known cosmos, and the means for generating such a result are not beyond inference to one who is familiar with the basics."
Wait, was Spocky nervous? Why was he nervous? She turned to stare at the pair of images that had appeared within the projection screen – one showed a small starship of unique design, the other a truly disheartening sight: Pike lying on a platform suspended above a pool of liquid in the depths of a dark chamber.
'Oh.'
"We now know that the red matter device is on board the small ship in the main hangar – and as you can see, I have also located Captain Pike."
"Is he alive?" Kirk asked weakly.
Spock tuned a couple of inputs but even Harriet could tell the additional details supplied were immaterial.
"Unknown. This is the cargo bay, and we only have access here to minimal visualizations, not medical information."
Kirk nodded. "Let's move."
"Wait," Harriet called, thinking quickly. Wasn't Nero's plan to drop red matter through the drill somehow into the Earth? Had they already taken that measure of red matter from the device? "Where is the drill operations center? The exact location will be helpful." After a considering look, Spock nodded and began to work the interface once more.
For Kirk's sake, she explained what she and Spock had silently come to an agreement on. "We'll split up. The two of you go for the device and the ship, that's the priority. I'll go after the drill. Scotty can beam me off after I'm done."
"Why are you suddenly interested in the drill?" Was that suspicion or pure curiosity? She couldn't tell.
And honestly didn't care.
"It was the red matter that destroyed Vulcan, not the drill itself. If they've already taken some measure of it from the ship to the drill, we need to make sure it remains contained and unused."
"It should be relatively simple to deactivate the drill while you are searching." Spock's subtle reminder that deactivating the drill was also a priority should have been expected.
She looked at him skeptically.
Instead of commenting further, he nodded in the direction of the still unconscious crew members. "They will begin to recover within a short time."
Kirk let out a short "Doesn't matter" just as she informed Spock they wouldn't. Both men looked at her questioningly. She merely raised an eyebrow and repeated herself.
"Now, where to?" She pressed Spock. "Allons-y and all that."
"The command center is here." He turned and gave her what should have been an inscrutable look. But she knew that look: it was the look of someone who was about to go off into battle and didn't know if they would see you again.
She walked over to him with only the slightest bit of hurry in her steps, then, without a sound, rested her forehead on his chest and wrapped her arms around his torso. After a moment she raised her head to look at him.
"I will not say goodbye," she said quietly. Stepping away ever so slightly, she brought her fingers up in a Vulcan salute. "'Til we meet again."
He copied the gesture, bringing his hand dangerously close to touching hers.
Kirk coughed. While she was sure they were both more inclined to stay where they were, Spock broke eye contact with Hari and strode off in the direction of the hangar holding the device.
Kirk gave her an awkward smile, then hurried after him.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then, with an understanding she wanted the most direct route to her objective, she pulled out her wand.
"Point me drill command center."
The vastness of the Narada worked to their advantage. Having no reason to believe intruders might be aboard, and with their own transporter intentionally disabled to prevent any enemy from potentially making forcible use of it, they managed to avoid being seen before continuing on their way.
When they reached the main hangar, they stopped. There, resting alongside Captain Pike's shuttlecraft, sat the strange Vulcan vessel, open and unguarded. Which, to Spock, was all the more reason the two of them were justified in boarding the vessel cautiously, not allowing themselves to relax until they stood in the forward cabin.
He immediately intuited where the command station was located and began to analyze it.
He only vaguely registered Kirk's movement toward a panel that verbally confirmed what he already suspected:
"Voice print, face, pheromone, body density, and retinal recognition analysis enabled."
After a command to switch to Federation Standard by Kirk, the computer repeated itself.
"Spock, looks like you'll be piloting the ship alone."
"Which may be problematic." Responding to his voice, the ship immediately sent a scan playing across his features. "While I recognize certain essential instrumentation, I have to confess that I am unfamiliar with this particular vessel's design and construction." Other, less visible security instruments took note of everything from his height to the color of his eyes to his general respiration within the span of his admission.
"Access granted, Ambassador Spock. All ship functions are now at your disposal."
Kirk took a step toward the console. "You'll be able to fly this thing, right?"
"Something tells me I already have." As he processed this, he turned to stare back at Kirk. "While I attempt to engage with this vessel, I presume you are going to try and find Captain Pike."
Kirk shrugged, as if what he had just surmised was the most natural thing in the world. "He told me to come and get him. Just following orders. Like I always do."
Spock did not know how to respond to that. Instead, he continued with the vague emotion that had 'struck him' as he said… goodbye to Harriet.
"Jim," and here he almost hesitated, his use of Kirk's first name enough to convey his unease, "the statistical likelihood that our plan will succeed is less than four point three percent."
"It'll work."
This time, he did hesitate. "In the event that I do not return, tell Harriet …"
"Spock, it'll work," Kirk insisted before he could finish.
He stared at Kirk for a moment, collected himself, then turned and sat down in the Captain's chair. It moved forward into position without his command.
"Startup sequence initiated."
Prompt: Mistaken Identity; "My Love Will Never Die" by Claire Wyndham [fill for The Resurrection Lily]
