Night of the Eagle

Chapter Two:

A shuttlecraft faced the Enterprise's huge bay doors when Kirk entered the shuttle deck. Spock and McCoy turned as he came over to them, footsteps echoing hollowly in the cavernous space. A lazy grin played around his mouth, "Ready to go, Mr. Spock?"

"Indeed, Captain. The alterations needed to extend the shuttle's range are complete, thanks to Mr. Scott."

McCoy shook his head. "Still seems a crazy way to spend your vacation to me, Spock. We'll be doing a routine check on Hiemal in a month or so. Can't this trip of yours wait until then?"

"As I have already explained several times before, Doctor, your ideas of a vacation differ from my own. I find it most illogical to waste valuable time in the leisure pursuits so dear to the human heart. The research team on Hiemal has made some startling discoveries. Is it so incredible that I should wish to extend my own knowledge on the subject?"

"Any human, who would pass up R & R on Starbase 13, and after months of having our leave postponed, has to be crazy… but in your case, I'm more than willing to make an exception."

"Why thank you, Doctor McCoy I am pleased that you can see the distinction. Perhaps we have something in common, after all."

"In a pig's eye! Jim, I'll see you up on the bridge."

Kirk grinned as he watched an indignant McCoy stalk away, then sobered. "You're certain that this is what you want to do, Spock? There is still time to change your mind."

"No, I think not, Captain. I told Doctor McCoy the truth. The results of the experiments on Hiemal are indeed fascinating and may prove of inestimable value."

Kirk nodded, only half-convinced. "I hear the team is an all-Vulcan one. Any of them known to you personally?"

Spock paused, startled by the unexpected question. His voice was at its Vulcan coolest when he answered. "The leader of the team, Sirak…is a … relative. My father's cousin…"

"I see," Kirk murmured, aware that Spock was keeping something back but unwilling to probe into his private affairs. If Spock wanted him to know, he'd get around to telling him eventually. "Has Uhura managed to make contact with the base yet?"

"Negative, sir." Spock's expression remained impassive. "However, the climate is extremely unpredictable, and storms have been known to disrupt transmissions in the past."

"Very logical." Kirk's voice held a slight but definite edge, the merest hint of dissatisfaction.

"You disagree, Captain?"

"Unlike you, Mr. Spock, I am completely human. I tend to rely on the promptings of my subconscious."

Spock inclined his head, one eyebrow beginning to rise, and Kirk laughed unenthusiastically, "I know, but I have a feeling about this. It's probably nothing, but there have been several reports of recent Klingon activity in that particular quadrant."

"They do have mining concessions there," Spock pointed out tranquilly. "However, their interests in Hiemal should be minimal. Apart from the team, and the wildlife – which is various, the planet is quite barren, I believe. There are few trace elements, hardly any minerals of value and a minimal amount of base metals…"

Kirk's grin widened as he held up his hand, "All right, Mr. Spock, I get the message. On the other hand, I don't want you taking any chances. If there is trouble, you have my standing order to get the hell out of it – and on the double."

"I shall endeavor to keep that in mind, Captain."

"I'm sure you will, Spock." Kirk's tone remained noticeably dry. He turned to inspect a red light that had begun to flash above them. "That's my signal to depart. Have a good journey, Mr. Spock. We shouldn't be too far behind you if the repairs are completed in time."

"I hope you enjoy your own leave, Captain." Spock's expression continued straight-faced but Kirk thought he could just detect slight warmth beneath the Vulcan exterior. "Base 17 is most – stimulating, or so I have been given to understand."

"You could say that." Kirk's grin turned lascivious. With a wave of his hand, he left Spock in the capable charge of the flight deck crew. As soon as the air lock closed behind him, an order rang out and the heavy doors began to swing open. The shuttlecraft taxied efficiently toward them and soared out into the emptiness beyond.

O0O

The journey took several hours. Hiemal was the second in a system of eight planets circling a spectral Class K5 star. As Spock brought the shuttle in, the planet grew larger on his forward scanners – a world lost in the swirling cloud formations that could only mean another storm wreaked havoc on the surface. Spock hesitated, considering what that could do, and without further deliberation decided to complete another revolution. Settling back in his seat, he opened a channel to the surface.

"Columbus to Hiemal Main Base. Do you read me? Over." There was no reply and considering the storm that lashed the ground below he hadn't really expected one. However, it was only logical to try every alternative. Spock scanned the console, noting fuel consumption: fifteen pounds psi – enough for one complete orbit. Again he reached out and pushed down the switch on the communications panel.

"Spock to Main Base. Spock calling Hiemal research team."

Then it came, bursting through the static: a voice reaching across the blankness of space, "Hiemal Research Base One calling…craft. Your message was garbled; please identify again."

Spock let out his breath in an explosive sigh as his fingers reached quickly for the communications console. "This is the shuttlecraft Columbus, piloted by First Officer Spock of the U.S.S. Enterprise. My situation is critical. I need landing coordinates. Can you supply? Over."

There was a long silence, then another voice came through the static, "…ceived and understood, Columbus. Storm rapidly approaching – must hurry…"

The voice faded, "…tions very poor. That understood?"

"Affirmative, Base One. I am coming down."

Spock transferred the automatic pilot to manual control and began to guide the small craft down towards the hidden world below. Then he was enveloped in a solid blanket of white, the snow wiping out land and sky until his sense of direction was so confused by the drift that Spock had no clear idea of his own whereabouts, let alone that of the base.

"Commander Spock to Base One. I am unable to locate your position. Please transmit the homing signal."

There was no answer. It appeared that he must rely on his own wits and the now relatively useless instruments of the shuttlecraft. He took the craft down, skimming across the endless waste of snow and ice. A curtain of hail spattered across the forward window. Spock stared at the blinding whiteness, frowning in concentration, searching for any and every landmark that might aid him to land safely.

His attention was suddenly attracted by a flashing light on the panel, a warning that radiation from the short end of the spectrum had abruptly increased and was growing stronger. More lights flashed as the radiation count abruptly passed the tolerance level and entered the lethal zone.

A gigantic pit suddenly dropped away, a hole filled with glassy, crystalline slag that was sending his sensors wild. In the centre of the annihilated region was a curdled horror of rock and metal, with blackened areas pointing away from the destruction like mute, accusing fingers. Spock knew then that the research base on Hiemal had ceased to exist days, perhaps even weeks, before his own arrival.

And he was well aware of his own danger even before the gray interceptor climbed to meet him. Whoever they were – and he had few illusions of the interceptor's identity – they knew that his own situation was critical; he'd told them so himself. The shuttle was unarmed, his options limited. Flight was the only answer, however ignominious that appeared. While he still had fuel there was always a chance that something could intervene to improve his own prospects.

Hauling the nose of the shuttle around in a tight circle, Spock headed directly for the oncoming storm. Coolly, and with a skill he had almost forgotten, he began to zigzag wildly, dodging the actinic blue spears lashing at him in the growing murk heading for the higher ground where it might be possible to lose the shadow dogging his every move.

The craft jerked and shuddered, and for a moment, the beat of the engines failed. They picked up again, but slowly, sluggishly. He banked sharply as two parallel lines of blue light speared through the whirling snow, but a sickening jolt behind him and the sudden loss of response told Spock he'd been hit again, and much more seriously this time.

Spinning madly end over end, the shuttlecraft plummeted sown, blackening rapidly as it plunged out of control toward the ground. Pressure exploded against Spock's senses and he flung up his arms to shield his face and head as the craft slammed into the snow, plowing through the packed ice like a child's spinning toy until it came to a stop, the power nacelles crushed beyond use or recognition.

TBC