Chapter 66- Bring It
Scotty looked skeptically at Hiro. "Are ya bloody sure aboot this?" Hiro just shrugged his shoulders with a polite smile.
"It will work." Jim patiently replied. "Just signal us when you disable the power so we can act quickly. Jump from ship to ship as fast as you can. I don't want to give them time to figure out what we're doing."
"Sir, the enemy shuttle is adrift and appears to be unmanned." Sulu reported.
"Unmanned?" Uhura asked perplexed. "What happened to the pilot?"
"Sylar's down there." Matt reminded her. "You probably don't want to know."
"Right." She agreed returning her attention to her station. He was probably right. "Sir, we have an incoming from Mendak."
"Put it onscreen and stream it to the shuttle. I want everyone to know what's going on." Jim ordered returning to his seat with authority.
"Kirk." Mendak sneered as he loomed large on the screen. "I think this little game has gone on long enough. You have fought admirably, but I am growing tired. This is your last chance. Turn over the gods or I will obliterate you."
"Obliterate?" Jim mocked with a smile. "Wow. That's pretty harsh."
Mendak fought to keep his cool in the face of such a defiant young whelp, but he could now say that Kirk came by his reputation honestly. "You know that weapon that the Klingons were going on about?" He casually asked. "It is more than just an idea. You see, it is very real and I have two of them onboard and aimed at your ship. Admittedly, I haven't tested them yet so I can't say with 100% certainty that they will do as they are designed to. So, call it a phase I test. If they fail, the impact alone will still destroy your ship. And if they succeed," he paused to lean into the camera and smile, "then you will be obliterated."
"Well," Jim replied with disingenuous concern on his face, "that sounds really scary. But as I told you before, you can't have them so I guess you'll just have to bring it." If he would have had an apple right then he would have taken a vicious bite out of it just to irritate him.
After Mendak signed off, Spock slowly turned in his seat and cautiously asked, "Bring it, Captain?"
"Yeah, why not?" He replied jovially. "It isn't like he wouldn't have done it even if we did turn them over, right Spock?"
"That is the highest probable outcome." He conceded.
"Well then, let's just hope those weapons turn out to be duds. Spock, alert the away team that they will have to deal with those weapons if they can. All of our power will be directed to the forward shields and the photon banks. Hopefully we can knock all of their ships down before they can fire their big guns. Ando?" He called into the intercom.
"Hello!" Ando replied.
"Ando, get ready for some sustained power generation. Can you do that?"
"I was told we are 'bringing it' so- yes!" He enthusiastically answered.
"Good man. Hiro, Scotty- you boys ready?"
"Aye, Sir!" Scotty nodded giddy with anticipation. He had never done anything like it before and had never heard of this as a battlefield strategy, but that was partly why he signed on to the Enterprise. It was so exciting!
"Alright. Uhura- listen for Scotty's communicator ping and map it out on the screen. Chekov- as soon as she pins it- fire. Ready? Go!"
Before Scotty knew it, he was in the engine room of a Romulan ship. "Bloody.." He wondered looking around before remembering what they were supposed to do. "Right." He focused on the main control panel for the ship's power and thought back to his days at the Academy when he was working on advanced mechanics and various power configurations. "There ya are ya little bugger." He cooed as he yanked the main routing chip from its socket, plunging the ship into darkness. He fumbled for his communicator and hit the chirp button to alert Uhura. "Let's go!" He urged Hiro and off they went to the next ship.
"Got it!" Uhura yelled as she marked the location of the signal. Chekov noted the coordinates and fired a volley directly at the disabled ship, destroying it. "Another one!" She warned. Before she could mark the latest, another came in. "Damn!" She muttered in amazement. They were clearly taking Jim's order to move quickly very seriously.
From his station, Spock watched as one by one the ships were marked for destruction and even he found himself pondering the improbability of it all. This was a real life Maru and yet again, Jim Kirk had found a loophole that shouldn't exist. It looked as though he were going to beat the system yet again. The staggering statistical odds made his brain hurt.
Mendak sat agape as one by one his support ships inexplicably lost power and were summarily destroyed by the Enterprise as if they had somehow orchestrated it. He couldn't begin to explain what caused the widespread outage, the Enterprise was not emitting any kind of beam or sending out EMP bursts- and even if they wanted to they didn't have the power. One ship was an anomaly, but the count was steadily rising and in a matter of 30 seconds he had lost 6 ships with no explanation and no time for a distress signal to be sent from the ships under attack to offer a clue.
"2 more ships down, Sir." His second in command alerted sounding slightly panicked.
Mendak sat back in his seat in a fury. He had been patient, he had offered the young Captain a way out. A small bargain that was beyond reasonable and his opponent had spit in his face. The only reason for Kirk to fight so hard only served to confirm his suspicions: Starfleet was onto the powers of the humans and wanted to use them for their own purposes. Having seen firsthand what the possibilities of such knowledge would mean, he knew he had no other option. If he couldn't have them, he would do all he could to deny Starfleet the power.
"Fire the weapons." He calmly ordered.
"But Sir, we…"
"Do it!" He roared.
"Bridge to engineering- load and fire the weapons on the order of the Captain."
Mendak slowly smiled as he watched the two gleaming white missiles leave his ship and cross the darkness to deliver death and destruction to his enemy. "Record this." He commanded. "This is scientific data."
His second warily glanced at him over his shoulder. "Aye, Sir."
In the shuttle, Nathan and Sylar looked at one another mystified and slightly amused. "Bring it?" Sylar smirked.
Nathan smiled and shook his head. "I guess we're bringin' it."
"I wonder what the weapons are he was talking about." Sylar mused pondering the transmission he and Nathan had overheard.
"Probably those." Nathan calmly stated nodding to two fuzzy objects in the far distance.
"How do you know?" He asked perplexed. His internal lie detector didn't go off, so he knew it wasn't a joke.
"The warning light." He answered gesturing to a blinking light on his panel. "Says incoming ordinance."
"Makes sense." Sylar conceded somewhat embarrassed at the bleeding obvious. "It was our job to take it out, right? Let's go."
"What do you plan on doing?" Nathan asked curiously as he guided the craft toward the objects despite the warning alarm's shrieking.
"I have no idea what they are doing to destroy those ships, but it seems to me the one that the bombs came from is the leader. To kill a snake…"
"You cut off the head." He finished solemnly.
"Exactly." He confirmed in a low voice. "Get me close."
Nathan sidled up as close as he could in the path of the bomb on the Sylar's assurance that he could handle it. And handle it he did using his telekinesis to stop the forward progression of the bombs toward the ship. They were moving at more velocity than he expected, but with great concentration he held firm. He tilted his head slightly and slowly rotated his hand to turn the missiles back in the direction they had come, only to be interrupted by Spock's voice, "Sylar, cease your current projection. Hiro and Mr. Scott are aboard the ship you intend to destroy."
"Jesus! Why?" Nathan howled.
"Sylar, are you able to hold the weapons in the current position for approximately 10 seconds longer?" Spock asked dispassionately.
Nathan glanced at his partner when he didn't answer right away and noted the intense look in his dark eyes and the blood that ran from his nose. "Hang in there, man." He encouraged. "Just a few more seconds."
Sylar barely heard him. The amount of force needed to hold missiles that weighed tons fueled by thrusters was certainly more than an armored police truck and perhaps this was the limit Dr. McCoy was looking for in his tests. "5…4…3…2…1" Spock counted. "They are safely aboard. You may fire at will." Sylar sighed and slumped unconscious in his seat as the weapons returned to their point of origin and exploded in a magnificent cloud of angry red and bright yellows speckled with black flecks of debris from the ship that once was.
Nathan watched breathless and turned excitedly to his partner to congratulate him, but it was plain he didn't get to see the results of his efforts. "Well done," he quietly commended turning the craft back to the dock, "let's get you home."
On the deck, Hiro watched the explosion of the last ship with a wondrous smile and yelled "Yatta!" with his fists raised. Scotty threw all of his stolen power chips in the air, laughing like a mad man while the rest of the crew cheered. They had faced the enemy with valor and came out victorious despite the overwhelming odds. Matt gave Noah a slap on the back which normally would have earned him a broken arm, but these were special circumstances and he let it slide as he readjusted his glasses.
Down in sickbay, Peter, Claire, and McCoy looked to the ceiling as they listened to Chekov publicly announce the end of the battle. "We did it." She mumbled, almost as if everything she had experienced was a twisted dream. But as she looked around at the casualties and blood smeared bay, she knew otherwise. It was very real and there were many people that didn't live to see the end of it despite her best efforts. Mohinder was still attaching tags to the dead he could identify and stacking them in a makeshift morgue. It was something he quietly did with solemn respect as the only service he felt he could provide. No one seemed to notice him but Claire, but it warmed her heart to watch him touch each person on the forehead and hum "Aum Nama Sivaya" before going to the next. She didn't exactly know what it meant, but she guessed it was a final blessing or death ritual. She never imagined Mohinder as a spiritual person, but the extra attention he paid to each victim surely would pay good karma later. He didn't know them and most probably didn't share his beliefs, but wherever they went after death he was there to wish them well and that was all that mattered.
Although they knew he had to be happy, McCoy returned to his duties with the same grim face as though they had just announced the day's lunch menu. For him it was far from over, but at least it meant the end of the torrent of wounded. He was starting to run out of space and was thinking of staging some of the less serious cases in the mess hall. Peter noted the announcement with a smile and returned his attention to his patient to heal a wound with the dermal regenerator.
Down in the engine rooms, a sweaty and tired Ando danced with joy with the other engineers. At that moment it didn't matter that he wasn't one of them- he had fought alongside them and it was largely thanks to his efforts that they were able to defend themselves in the first place. Giving recognition where recognition was due, he had the honor of the first drink of homemade brew that suddenly appeared out of every hatch and crevice in the department. He tried to keep a straight face, but it was very strong and he smiled and received many pats on the back and handshakes for at least attempting to drink what could probably peel paint off a wall.
On Romulus, the mood was somber. What started as such a promising day had somehow devolved into a nightmare. For Koval, the loss was both professional and personal. He sat in the dark, stony silent hall of the Senate chamber gazing passively at the seat his only son once occupied not more than a day before, triumphant. Now the hall was empty, just like his soul. To mourn the loss of his son- a hero to his people- may not have stung so much as did the word that he believed his father to be a traitor and had plans to overthrow him did. At first he refused to believe it, coming from Klingon channels as it did- but the treason was confirmed by those who had spoken to him since he had left for the savage world in chase of final glory.
What was to be a celebration was now a funeral. No matter his son's true reason for going into Klingon territory, the public would never know it. They would be told he died fighting the Klingons even if it was only a half truth; the Federation was not as valuable an enemy as their traditional sworn foe. They also would not know of the magical humans he spoke of. There was no need to cast a pale light on the national icon he would become. His people needed it and his father needed it.
He did have to explain why he agreed to trade the Vulcan Spock back to the Federation with nothing in return, and truth be told he wasn't even sure of why he did it. To admit an error was out of the question. That left only two choices: tell the populace that the Vulcan had been executed, or commit suicide and die honorably. He knew the probability of pulling off such a widespread conspiracy was quite low as the mob would demand to see his green blood soaked corpse on display. He sat back in his chair and thought of his poor wife. To bear so much pain was unfair, but it was to be expected of her. She would lose a son and her husband in the same day. Hopefully she would not think badly of him even though those closest to him would know the reason why he did it. They may be polite and tell her that he just couldn't take the loss of his son and heir.
How things had become so twisted in such little time, he had no idea. He had been in politics his entire life as was his father and his father before him. He knew the ins and outs of lies and espionage, yet this was beyond his comprehension. He wondered if the magic humans were indeed something special and had something to do with it. The more he thought about it, he began to chuckle. Of course. If there were two special godlike humans, there may have been more hidden behind the scenes influencing his every move. He may have even sat across from some of them at the negotiation table unknowingly. He was warned that they had almost infinite power and many capabilities. He had been playing with fire all along and never smelled the smoke. A smile slowly spread across his weary, wrinkled, tattooed face. "Well played." He commended before lifting a phaser to his head and pulling the trigger.
The hall once again fell silent except for the soft splattering of blood as it flowed off the edge of the table and dripped onto the stone floor.