Chapter Two
Spock reached it first. He began hauling branches away from the hull as the others caught up. "Captain. This is from the SS Curie. Spock would have protested that he was incapable of expressing astonishment, but at that moment the emotion was all but tattooed across his face.
"The SS Curie was destroyed six months ago in a suspected encounter with a Klingon battle cruiser. There were no survivors. Klingons take no prisoners." Kirk said, soberly.
"Could some of the crew have escaped?" asked Visnic.
"Even if they did, it's unlikely anyone could have survived a crash landing like this." McCoy observed.
"Let's take a look inside." Kirk said, leading the way. The hull door hung askew and as he tested its stability a snarl greeted him from within and before he knew what was happening he was knocked violently to the ground by a blur of mottled fur and bared, savage teeth and claws. It was over in an instant, Spock reacting with lightening speed with a phaser stun and Visnic hauling the beast off him, then McCoy bending over him, eyes darting everywhere, checking for injuries.
"Thank you, gentleman, I'm unharmed. Bones, really, I'm fine." He reiterated as McCoy opened his mouth to protest.
"At least let me help you up." The medic grumbled, extending an arm, which Kirk grasped, allowing his friend to feel useful. He brushed himself down and turned to look at his assailant, which Spock was already examining with his tricorder. "Definitely some kind of feline species, though the ears are puzzling." He remarked, examining the animal's floppy, rabbit-like ears.
"Really, Mr Spock?" McCoy commented, his voice rich with amusement. Spock's pointed Vulcan ears were often the target of the medic's humour.
"Gentlemen, I suggest we attend to the matter at hand while tiddles there is out cold" Kirk said, as he once again made to enter the shuttle. Nothing else stirred from inside as he proceeded more cautiously this time, past the skewed, mangled door. Enough light flooded through the opening for Kirk to see immediately that the crew of the shuttle had not died on impact though the vessel had clearly crash-landed. He had expected to find bodily remains slumped over the controls, or still strapped into seats, trapped by mangled metal or crushed by fallen debris.
"Evidence of blood, quite a bit of it." McCoy said, moving between the seats. "Poor devils may have escaped the Klingons only to die of their wounds."
"Some would consider death a kinder fate." Visnic said, without emotion. No one contradicted him. For those who had been subjected to the Klingon's mind-sifter, death in the form of suicide was an all-too frequent occurrence. Kirk's eyes flicked momentarily to Spock's face but if the Vulcan were remembering his own experience of that particular instrument of torture on Organia, there was no hint of it in his expression. Nor had Kirk expected to see any.
"Captain, it may be possible to extract some information from the logbook." Spock was bending over the controls. "If Mr Scott could arrange for some equipment to be beamed down I believe I could make the necessary repairs to the console." Kirk nodded. The destruction of the Curie had been a pivotal moment in Federation/Klingon relations; any opportunity to glean more information about its fate would be of huge importance to historians and to Starfleet. "Very well, Mr Spock."
"Well, if Spock's going to be hanging around, I guess I could too; might be able to get some DNA samples from those bloodstains." McCoy said in a workmanlike tone.
"Spock, that 'feeling' you had back there, has it gone?" Kirk asked. Spock did not answer immediately. "Spock?" The Vulcan straightened up and Kirk could tell that he was uncomfortable. "What is it, Spock?" McCoy asked, alert to the Science Officer's uncharacteristic hesitation.
"The 'feeling' as you describe it has gone. However, it was quite real." Kirk and McCoy exchanged glances. Ever since Spock had sensed the death of over three hundred Vulcans aboard the SS Intrepid, his intuition, or ESP, or whatever it was that allowed him to tap into what they could not, had been taken very seriously. Kirk felt suddenly restless.
"Visnic, Ryan, check out the area around the shuttle, see if you can find anything that might help us locate any survivors. And…be careful."
"Could the survivors have sent the distress signal, do you think? McCoy said.
"Possible, doctor." Spock said. "But not from here. These instruments have not been repaired."
"I want some answers." Kirk said, impatiently. "This whole set up feels wrong. The Curie was nowhere near this sector when it disappeared. How did one of its shuttlecraft end up so far from the scene of its destruction?"
Kirk whipped out his communicator and spoke to his Chief Engineer. Having described the situation and ascertained what equipment Spock would need to effect his repairs, he then requested that Scotty have Ensign Chekov check the computer database for archived material relating to the destruction of the SS Curie, adding, "Pay particular attention to recent entries. Kirk out."
Kirk tried not to let his irritation show in his voice. As he watched his CMO and Science Officer set to work when the equipment arrived, he felt like a spare part. Once or twice, he glanced in Spock's direction but the Vulcan was lying on his back under the control console. The first Officer's conviction that he had sensed a presence close by had left Jim with a sense of unease.
Sighing, Kirk moved outside, immediately feeling the planet's unrelenting wind whip through his shirt. Was it his imagination or was it colder than before? He shivered involuntarily. This day was never going to be easy. Inescapably, memories of Sam's inert, contorted body on Deneva, and later Aurelan's agonising death aboard the Enterprise, never far from his thoughts over the past year, were bound to crowd in on him on this first anniversary. McCoy had counselled him after the event, explained the stages in grieving, warned him about the psychological implications of bottling up his feelings, and had watched disbelief and anger spill over into unrestrained grief over several long evenings and many glasses of the good doctor's best bourbon.
And Spock had helped. "I grieve with thee." He had said in that formal Vulcan parlance and Kirk had nodded, understanding that there was a level of meaning beyond the words that his friend could not express outright.
Kirk's communicator beeped abruptly. "Scott here, Captain. Mr Chekov has some results for you."
"Ceptin" the Russian ensign's eager, boyish voice took over. "An interesting piece of information from the archive on the Curie. The captain's log recorded that the ship's shuttle had been hijacked two days before the incident took place. The ship had been carrying a passenger named Mark Hunter, a scientist; he was reported missing and a search of his cabin revealed that he had been harbouring a stowaway."
"A stowaway!" Kirk's surprise was evident. "Do we know their identity?"
"Negative." Chekov answered, sounding eerily like Spock.
""Keep digging. Kirk out."
"Anything, Spock?" Kirk asked. His First Officer was still sprawled on the floor of the Shuttle, his head and shoulders under the console. At Kirk's words, he pulled himself out into a sitting position.
"Negative, Captain. The damage is more extensive than it first appeared– I suspect deliberate sabotage by the crew themselves." Spock's voice was solemn. Kirk related what he had learned from Chekov.
"It is possible that the hijackers could make the distance to Skara from where the Curie was patrolling; they would have had limited warp capability." Observed Spock.
"Was Skara their intended destination? And did these hijackers have anything to do with what happened to the Curie?" Kirk's question hung in the air as his communicator beeped again, and he whipped it out.
"Captain, that ion storm's whipping itself up into a frenzy and it's headed straight for us." Scott's voice, apologetic but urgent. Kirk looked around at his assembled landing party and decided that there was no pressing need for them to remain on the planet's surface when the safety of the Enterprise and her crew was at risk. "Five to beam up, Mr Scott." He instructed his Chief Engineer before Spock had a chance to request permission to remain behind.
McCoy stepped off the transporter platform first, resisting the urge he always felt to check that all of his body parts had been reassembled in some semblance of correctness.
"Captain!" Even as his Chief Engineer spoke, Kirk was aware that something was wrong. He spun around on the transporter platform taking in the members of the landing party one by one but he already knew who was missing.
"Where's Spock? McCoy's voice, slightly panicky. Kirk fought down his own rising panic as he barked out Scotty's name, demanding an answer by his tone.
"I dunno, Captain. He was there and…and then he wasn't." Kirk leapt off the transporter platform and over to the controls. "Explain yourself, Mr Scott." He said restrainedly.
"I mean he was there – I saw him materialise – well partially materialise and then he just disappeared. These storms play merry hell with the transporter mechanisms. I don't know if I dare try again."
"Captain." Kirk turned to Visnic enquiringly. "I was standing next to Mr Spock when we beamed up. I saw him on the transporter platform too – I saw him and then it was like Mr Scott said, he just disappeared.
Kirk resisted the urge to punch the transporter console, "Try again, Scotty." He said, tersely. Scotty made one or two adjustments and attempted a second beam up using Spock's last known coordinates. Kirk and McCoy exchanged brief, worried glances as they waited. There was a musical humming sound as the transporter activated, then nothing.
"I'm sorry, Captain." Scott's tone echoed the alarm Kirk felt as his eyes fixed on the empty platform, "Wherever Mr Spock is, the transporter can't lock onto him and even if it could, there's no guarantee it would beam him back here in one piece."
A sweep of the area that the landing party had covered during its time on the planet, revealed no trace of Spock. Kirk frowned, contemplating his options. The ion storm had whipped itself up to force six and was approaching fast; they could not risk using the transporter again at such close proximity.
The best chance of evading the storm was to warp out of orbit and outrun it. Meaning days before they could return. What would days mean for Spock? McCoy had already given him the run down of what might befall the Vulcan on the planet's surface – if indeed that was where Spock was – everything from death from exposure to death at the claws of the giant, rabbit-eared wildcat. And that, the good doctor emphasised, was assuming he had made it back to the planet's surface without injury. Not that Kirk needed reminding that Spock could be in danger. The thought had not left his mind since he stepped off the transporter following the Vulcan's failure to materialise.
Exhaustive checks of the transporter system had confirmed what Scotty had suspected from the outset – that whatever had been responsible for Spock's disappearance was connected with the storm; there was no other evidence of malfunction. Despite the heightened risk of transporter disruption from the storm, Kirk's instinct was to beam back down and instigate a search for his First Officer. But where to start? And he had the safety of over four hundred other lives to consider.
There was a logical viewpoint. The planet was not hostile to life. If anyone could survive down there, Spock could and that was the key factor in Kirk's final decision. He steeled himself for the inevitable onslaught of emotional censure from his ship's surgeon. The expected tirade ended with the plea, "Jim. Spock is your friend. You can't just abandon him down there. At least let me go down with a search party."
"You know the risks of using the transporter this close to an ionic front, Bones. Are you in a hurry to revisit the ISS Enterprise, or something worse?"
The reminder of the harrowing hours spent aboard the Enterprise's evil counterpart in the mirror universe they had been thrust into when transporting during an ion storm had been enough to silence McCoy for the moment but he was far from assuaged. As he had turned away, Kirk had called him back, "Bones, I need you on my side. You know what Spock means to me. You also know that I have the lives of every man and woman aboard this ship to consider. " If he had expected words of reassurance from his CMO, none were forthcoming.
"You do what your duty tells you, Captain." Was McCoy's brusque reply. Kirk sighed. Bones needed to vent his frustration; apologies would follow later when he had calmed down
And now even more pressing matters were at hand. Uhuru was picking up signals from the far side of the planet that could be indicative of nothing other than a Klingon battlecruiser. Kirk's bad day had just taken a turn for the worse.
He missed Spock's presence on the bridge. The Vulcan's quiet support, his suggestions that often second-guessed Kirk's own, or his cool logic that counterbalanced Kirk's gut reactions; all unnoticed when he was there, their lack keenly felt in his absence.
"His deflector shields are inactive, Captain!" Chekov informed him from the science station. Kirk stared at the viewscreen where the battlecruiser loomed large and threatening, its predatory design psychologically unsettling. What was its business here?
"Captain. We are being hailed by the Klingon vessel." Uhura's voice.
"Put it on visual, Lieutenant." Kirk ordered, leaning forward in his chair. A buzz of static preceded the communication. Kirk wondered if he was the only one to feel a chill as the image of the Klingon Captain swam into view on the screen.
"Captain Kirk of the USS Enterprise. Your fame precedes you." Mocking, of course.
"I regret that yours – doesn't." Kirk replied, "To whom am I speaking?" The Klingon Commander bristled perceptibly, then smiled, or snarled, who could tell the difference? "My name is Commander K'Sath of the ISS Vr'tsak"
"Commander K'Sath, your vessel is in Federation space. Your continued presence here constitutes an act of war. Please state your purpose." In these instances, Kirk thought, it was best to be direct. K'Sath's aggressive posture and look were no surprise.
"My apologies, Captain. Our navigation system has been compromised by the build up of ionic radiation in this area of space. It is for this reason that we have strayed into Federation space."
"You lie. We've been pursuing you for days. I repeat, what is your purpose in being here?" Kirk was aware that he too, had adopted an aggressive pose, leaning forward in his chair, eyes narrowed.
"I will not explain myself to you, Human." The Klingon Commander's anger showed in his face for a second before the viewscreen went blank.
"Ceptin, enemy deflector shields have been activated." Kirk leapt from his seat, "Sulu, deflectors up!" he ordered, "Lock photon torpedoes! Sound red alert!" The orders came a split second too late. Kirk was thrown to the floor as the Enterprise took a hit from the Klingon ship. Kirk jumped to his feet spitting blood and orders. "Lock onto target. Fire photon torpedoes!"
Seconds later, the Bridge was plunged into darkness and its occupants thrown from their seats as the ship listed violently to the side. This time Kirk's head collided with the rail and he suffered a moment's insensibility. As the lights flickered back on, his first, sluggish thought was one of disbelief. No known weapon was capable of breaking through the shields to inflict that much damage. Then, he remembered the ionic front; it had been accelerating and must have caught them up.
"Anybody hurt?" he yelled above the din of the red alert siren and the waves of aftershock from the storm's blast, but if anyone answered, their words were drowned out as a second wave rocked the ship, this time buffeting it forcefully from side to side. The lights winked and went out a second time.
Kirk crawled to his command chair and felt for the arm. Finding the button, he punched it on, "Scotty! We need back up power on the bridge."
"Doing my best, Captain. The Chief Engineer's voice was steady. "We've caught the edge of the storm. At least we're not right in the thick o' it yet, but it's draining our power just to hold position. Can we lower our shields, Captain? That Klingon ship's likely in the same state as us."
"Negative." Kirk answered. "They stay in place until I know the status of that battlecruiser."
"Ceptin! Klingon wessel has lowered its shields." Kirk's first thought was that it was some kind of ruse, but what Klingon commander would leave himself vulnerable in the midst of an altercation? The battlecruiser must have taken more punishment from the storm than the Enterprise.
"Scotty, do we have enough power to launch a photon torpedo?" There was a moment's silence, before the Chief Engineer replied, "Aye, Captain. Just enough." Kirk sat back waiting; the battlecruiser was vulnerable – damaged – why else would its Commander lower its shields?
Chekov looked at Kirk expectantly, waiting for the instruction to attack, but Kirk did not give it. The storm raged around them and on the viewscreen they saw the Klingon ship blasted by a lightening flash of ionic energy.
"Sir, their hull has been ripped apart!" Sulu cried. There was a shocked silence. The knowledge that their enemy had just been rendered useless did nothing to dispel the tension on the bridge. As if to remind them of the continuing danger, another shuddering wave engulfed the Enterprise and once again the power fluctuation caused the lights to dim. Kirk sat tight waiting for full power to be restored. "Speak to me, Scotty," he said calmly.
"Ceptain, there is a craft leaving the Klingon wessel; it is on course for the planet."
"They'll never make it in this storm!" Sulu cried, his voice echoing the disbelief felt by everyone on the bridge. Kirk stared at the viewscreen. Conditions aboard the battlecruiser must be critical – it was beyond salvage. What was going through the Klingon Commander's head?
"He's going to self-destruct!" It must have been the blow to his head still slowing his mental processes. No Klingon commander would surrender to the Federation, or allow his ship to be boarded. Kirk slammed his fist on the intercom, "Scotty. Can you give me maximum warp. "
"Captain, our energy reserves are already depleted and this storm's playing merry hell with the antimatter in the warp core. Not to mention the dangers of attempting maximum warp in an ion storm."
"Thank you Mr Scott. I am aware of the dangers. I am also aware of the danger of being in close proximity to an exploding Klingon battlecruiser in the middle of an ion storm."
Scotty's reply was inaudible, perhaps deliberately so, but he gave Kirk what he needed. "Sulu. Get us out of here!"
There was a blinding flash on the viewscreen and the whole ship shuddered as it strove to obtain maximum warp. There was nothing for it but to sit tight and ride it out. The floor came up to meet Kirk again despite his best efforts to maintain his position and this time he felt the pain of ribs cracking from the impact. Whether from his injury or from the effects of the storm, everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. Sulu sprawled on the floor next him, neither of them able to pull themselves to their feet. Chekov had been thrust against the rail and was hanging on with both hands. Uhura's seat was empty and Kirk strained to turn to see where she had been flung. There was no point in shouting words of command or reassurance; nothing would be heard above the din.
The first thing he noticed when the noise stopped, the ship steadied and he was able, with Sulu's help, to pull himself upright, was that the stars looked different. Giving Sulu a few moments to reorient himself, Kirk waited, knowing that the helmsman was already on it. "How far?" He asked, unable to contain his impatience. Sulu swivelled round in his chair and his answer was not what Kirk needed to hear. Scott beat him to the intercom, "Captain, our warp function is seriously compromised. I can give you warp one at best."
"Well," Kirk sighed, at least they were not reduced to impulse power only.
There was another shred of good news. "If we can make it to Starbase Ten we can repair our damage in a matter of days." Tempered by more bad, "But at warp one, it's going to take us the best part of a week. Kirk ordered Sulu to set a course for Starbase Ten before heading for the turbolift. Only after the doors whooshed shut behind him did he give vent to his frustration, punching a fist hard into the wall, almost welcoming the pain as a release.
Captain's Log Stardate 3726.9. It is three days since the ion storm inflicted crippling damage on the Enterprise. Our use of maximum warp in the middle of the storm to escape the impact of the enemy vessel's self-destructive explosion, has thrown us light years off course and my First Officer remains stranded on Skara, his condition, unknown. We are on course for Starbase Ten to effect repairs, using minimum warp, and are still two days away from that destination. It is my intention to return to Skara when the Enterprise is back to full capacity, to search for Commander Spock. In the meantime I have been conducting research into the Curie incident in which a Federation ship was destroyed in a hostile Klingon encounter. Could it be that survivors of the Curie disaster made it to Skara, and, if so, is it reasonable to assume that they may be living there still and that the distress signal picked up by the Enterprise was sent by them?
Jim completed his entry and rested his head on the console on the desk before him. For a few seconds he drifted off into sleep and was interrupted, ironically by the very man who had been urging him to take some rest for the better part of two days.
Leonard McCoy cursed under his breath as he entered Jim's cabin and saw the Captain raise his head sleepily, from the console. "Your bunk would be more comfortable." He said, noting Kirk's furrowed brow, the evidence of fatigue around his eyes. He raised a hand defensively as Kirk made to deflect his concern, "Save it, Jim. I'm not going to waste my breath telling you what you already know."
"Then why are you here?" Kirk asked, his tone less challenging than weary. "To tell me again to stop blaming myself for abandoning Spock on Skara?"
"I refer you to my previous answer." McCoy said. Kirk winced.
"Put that thing away." Kirk snapped as McCoy advanced on him, mediscanner in hand. "I've got cracked ribs. There's nothing you can do except give me painkillers and I've got plenty left."
"Because you haven't used any of them." McCoy noted, reproachfully.
"I need a clear head." Was Kirk's only reply."
"For what, Jim? We're still at least two days distant from Starbase Ten. There's nothing you can do until the Enterprise is back to operating at full capacity. Why not take the chance to get yourself back on form? You've got Chekov working overtime on retrieving information on the Curie incident. If he unearths anything important, you'll be the first to know."
Kirk sighed. McCoy was right. He crossed to his bunk and stretched out, covering his eyes with his arm.
"I knew you'd see sense, eventually." McCoy said, the relief in his voice palpable. As he turned to leave, Jim called him back.
"What if he's hurt, Bones?" He asked, quietly.
"You're asking me, that?" McCoy answered, "The thought has scarcely left my mind since he disappeared. My kit is already packed and I've left nothing to chance."
"That's if he's even on Skara. He disappeared as a result of a transporter malfunction in the middle of an ion storm. He could be anywhere." Kirk's voice conveyed a sense of despondency that he would not have revealed to any other man aboard ship.
"If he were here, he would say that it's not logical to speculate without the full facts. All we can do is hope." McCoy answered.
"Hope is a human emotion, Doctor; Spock wouldn't approve of that either." Kirk's only reply was the sound of the doors whooshing shut as the medic left the captain's quarters.
Many thanks to those who have reviewed. There's a lot of plot to this tale so I hope readers will stick with it. Reviews would be great! Aurelan.