Hacker Chronicles 2/HACKER2.BIN/530.CHAP#10.TXT

Text File | 1993-03-01 | 22KB | 524 lines

                                 ***    TEN    ***



            The white streak that was Enterprise blazed like a stray bolt
       of lightning through the vacuum of space.  She was on a heading
       that would bring her into a still-disputed area of the galaxy.  The
       Federation claimed it.  The Klingon Empire claimed it, but the
       Organians controlled it and named it the Neutral Zone.  Hence,
       ownership of any tract of space or any planet within that region
       must be acquired by peaceful, productive occupation.  This was in
       accordance with the treaty signed by both claimants.  Violent
       aggression by either party was forbidden, and would, by the self-
       appointed arbitrators / enforcers, be stopped.

            Since the initiation of the treaty, both camps had made
       attempts to stretch the limits of the contract, to no effect.  The
       Treaty was ironclad.  Adherence to it was not an option.  In
       addition, it was agreed that Organia, as a planet and a people, was
       to be left alone... until now.

            James T. Kirk occupied the center seat.  He waited for the
       inevitable.  The weight of the Captaincy was never heavier on his
       shoulders than at this moment.  His orders to approach the planet
       in the solar-system ahead of him was a violation of Treaty.  His
       orders to set his ship for self-destruct was a violation of his
       conscience.  And yet he still waited for the inevitable.

            The meeting Jim had called in sickbay with McCoy and Spock
       was an exercise in futility.  The danger still roamed his ship.  To
       attempt to incapacitate the Grensk android would be difficult even
       if it was not conducive to exploding.  The android had far superior
       strength to that of even a Vulcan.  Every plan that they discussed
       or formulated put all aboard in jeopardy.  To leave Grensk to his
       own devices placed the ship in no less a perilous position, but it
       did give them a timeframe within which to work.  They used to call
       his predicament a 'catch twenty-two, Jim recalled.

            Jim looked at the chronometer in the arm of his chair.  "Mr.
       Sulu, shouldn't we be reaching the system perimeter soon?"

            "Aye, Sir, coming up on it in about eight minutes." Sulu spoke
       calmly.

            "Prepare to power down to impulse, point 9, in about eight
       min..." Jim shut his mouth and grabbed both sides of his chair.  He
       could feel something vibrating subtly for just a moment.  It
       stopped.  He sat still to see if it would happen again.  Then the
       whole ship began to shudder violently.

            Jim hit his comm button.  "Kirk to Engineering, Scotty,
       what's the problem?" he asked urgently.  The shudder became more
       pronounced.  "Mr. Scott!"  No answer.  Spock quickly moved over to
       the engineer's console.

            "Captain," Spock announced, "the port nacelle is beginning to

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       buckle, all readings are peaking in the red."

            "Sulu!" Jim started, but before he could finish his sentence,
       the ship pitched to port, and the Enterprise began to maneuver in
       an irregular, large spiral, her inertia dampeners and starboard
       engine began to whine.

            Holding onto the corner of the console, the helmsman tried to
       reach for the controls, fighting like the rest of the crew against
       the powerful centrifugal force.  Straining, he managed to get a
       finger on the correct button, and pressed the emergency shut-off
       switch.  The starboard engine went silent and Sulu was able to
       engage braking thrusters.

            "All stop, Sulu."  Perspiration beaded on the Captain's
       forehead.

            "Slowing, Sir," spoke Sulu, equally sweaty.

            Uhura turned from her station. "Captain, damage control is
       reporting a fire in engineering, and something about an explosion!"

            Jim punched the communication button again, "Kirk to
       Engineering," static was all he received.  "Engineering, report!"

            "Hanson here," the din of extinguishers, and the crackle of
       electricity obscured his voice.

            "Mr. Hanson, report Engineering's status."

            "We've had an explosion in the Jeffries Tube.  Commander
       Scott is being taken to sickbay on antigravs.  Fire's almost out
       but it looks bad down here."

            "How bad, Mr. Hanson?"

            "We won't be able to make repairs on outboard number one
       without dry-docking.  I believe if we tried to engage it again,
       she'd blow in a matter of seconds, Sir."

            "Is there damage to the nacelle's main reactor?" he asked.

            "As far as I can determine, it's intact.  We did lose the
       Starboard engine's fail-safe though.  The automatic power shutdown
       to the engine was damaged in the feedback explosion."

            "We noticed."  Jim swiveled his chair to the engineering
       station, manned by Spock, who was inspecting the console.  Spock
       nodded to the Captain, in confirmation to what Lieutenant Hanson
       reported.  "Do what you can down there and keep me posted.  We may
       need at least warp 3 in two hours."

            "Aye, Sir.  Hanson out."

            "Mr. Spock," Jim rose from his chair.  "You have the con.
       I'll be in sickbay.  Mr. Sulu, resume course for Organia, impulse,

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       point 9 warp."

            "Aye, Sir. Course locked in.  Engaging now."



                                 *         *         *



            Sickbay was lined up with no small number of crewmen suffering
       from minor abrasions to motion sickness.  Nurses Evans and Downey
       distributed medicines and applied antiseptics with the deftness
       that earned them the privilege of their tour on the Enterprise.

            The doors to sickbay parted and in stepped the gold and black
       clad Captain, followed by Dr. M'Benga, who did not seem to be in
       good humor.

            "Not the best way to wake up, being thrown from my bed,
       Captain," spoke the doctor as Jim turned the corner, oblivious to
       the comment, lost in his own thoughts.

            The beds were mercifully empty, save one, on which Jim saw his
       unconscious Chief Engineer, with McCoy attending him.

            "How is he, Bones?" Jim concernedly asked.

            "I'll know as soon as I get this blasted shirt off him." He
       put his medi-scanner down on the tray next to him.  "Nurse
       Chappell,  will you hurry with that molecular separator!"  He then
       loaded his hypo and injected a pink liquid into his patient.

            Jim went to the bedside and beheld the blackened arm of
       Commander Montgomery Scott.  Though he had several facial
       lacerations, and bruises, his arm was by far the most serious.  His
       uniform had melted and fused itself to his right arm and his hand
       looked like a badly toasted marshmallow.  He could tell from the
       readings on the bed's monitor that his whole body had suffered some
       kind of trauma, probably a near-fatal jolt from the overload.

            Nurse Christine Chappell returned to McCoy with the requested
       instrument.  The doctor checked the setting and wasted no time in
       putting it to use, after switching on the bed's sterilization
       field, a reflex action.

            The Captain watched as the uniform fairly unraveled at the
       touch of the instrument, losing its molecular cohesiveness.  The
       dust that was once a sleeve, was ionically drawn to the receptors
       at the head and foot of the bed.  What it revealed was not pleasant
       to look at.  Scott's last two fingers were clearly broken, and his
       middle finger was completely gone.

            "My God, Jim, what was he into?" spoke the doctor, not taking
       his eyes off his task.  "It looks like he's had his hand up a
       thruster."

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            "Security to the shuttle bay," came the First Officer's voice
       over the main speakers.  "Repeat, security to the shuttle bay."

            Jim rushed over to the comm box and punched the sender.  "Mr.
       Spock, what's the trouble?" he asked, already projecting the
       answer.

            "Uncertain Captain, we received a condition red alert from
       shuttle control, however, no one is responding to," his voice broke
       off.  "One moment Captain."  Jim heard Sulu's voice in the
       background but could not hear his words.  "Captain, the tractor
       beam has been disabled.  It is most probable that,"

            "Sabotage, I know Spock," Jim cut in. "Meet me in shuttle bay
       with two phasers.  Needle beam setting," he said, swiftly trying to
       think ahead of the situation.  "Belay that, Mr.  Spock.  Have Sulu
       try to keep the Shuttle Bay doors closed, and meet me in the
       transporter room!"

            Spock paused in thought, for a split second, then, replied.
       "Captain, I believe I understand your line of reasoning, but I fail
       to see its effectiveness."

            Kirk rolled his eyes up in his lids and sighed.

            "In the least, it will avail nothing.  But in the worst case
       it could," Spock continued.

            "Now Spock, that's an order!" Jim said, only slightly
       irritated.  He was very used to His First Officer's willingness to
       offer more information than was often desired.

            "Aye, Sir, Spock out."

            Jim punched the sender switch again and the speaker went dead.
       He looked over his shoulder as he made for the exit.  "Take care of
       him Bones, he's the only Chief Engineer I have."  Then he exited
       sickbay.

            Dashing down the crowded corridor, he reached the turbo-lift.
       He heard the familiar voice of the computer, announcing the ship's
       destruction in 2 hours, just as the doors closed behind him.  "Deck
       7," Jim instructed the computer-controlled lift.



                                  *         *         *



            Lieutenant Kyle was listening to the intra-ship
       communications, trying to determine the reason he had been thrown
       to the floor and bounced around the room, a few minutes ago.  He
       leaned over the transporter controls, one hand supporting his chin,
       the other, flattening down the back of his sandy colored hair.  The

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       entry door slid open to admit the Captain.

            "Captain!" spoke Kyle, snapping immediately to attention.

            "At ease, Mr. Kyle."  Jim walked over to the controls, and
       rubbed his hands together.  "Is everything in its usual working
       order?" Jim asked, assuming it was, since no mention of it was on
       the damage report.

            "Yes, Sir, I just finished the level 1 diag's a minute ago.
       No damage was detected."  He spoke with his usual English accent.

            "When was it last tuned?"

            "Just this morning, Sir.  At the end of last shift.  Saw em do
       it myself as I was coming on duty."

            "Very good, Lieutenant," he said, setting the board for
       manual location-sensor lock and overriding the safety features.  The
       door slid open again, this time admitting the expected Mr.  Spock,
       who quickly moved to the controls beside Jim.

            The overhead speaker came to life, "Sulu to transporter room.
       Mr.  Kyle, is Captain Kirk there yet?"

            Kyle looked at the captain, who indicated that he himself
       would respond.  "I'm here Sulu, what is it?"

            "Captain, Security reports that all guards and personnel
       stationed in the shuttle bay, have been phaser-stunned.  And, Sir,
       Gallileo 2 is attempting to debark."

            "Are the bay doors still closed?"

            "My console says they are, but Security says,"  Sulu, being
       in contact with both the Captain and Security, had to speak to one
       party, while listening to the other.  "Security reports the doors
       are opening!"  The ship beneath them rumbled and vibrated as if she
       had run aground.  "Captain, we have explosive decompression in the
       shuttle bay!"

            "Is everyone out of there?" asked the Captain with urgency.

            There was a pause of dead air space, then, "Security has them
       all in the airlock, Sir.  No casualties to report other than that
       of the men being stunned," reported Sulu, then added, "Shuttle
       craft is launching now."

             "Thank you, Mr. Sulu.  Pursue shuttle craft and find out
       if the tractor beam can be repaired soon and get those bay doors
       closed," Jim said, reverting to a calmer tone for Sulu's sake, only
       a little relieved at what he heard.  "Kirk out." Jim turned to
       Spock, "Our Mr. Grensk has been busy."

            "It would seem," Spock commented with a nod. "Captain, if I
       may."  Jim sighed and indicated to Spock that 'he may'.  "I do not

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       see the logic in using the transporter to stop Lieutenant Grensk,
       considering the way the transporters react when in contact with the
       explosive.  It seems equally futile to have ourselves transported
       to the shuttle.  Grensk's mechanical strength would be more than
       sufficient to stop us." Jim knew Spock's line of reasoning was 'off
       track' with the Captain's intentions, but out of respect for his
       'Number One', he heard him out.  "Logic suggests that we use our
       weapons against the shuttle either to disable or destroy it, before
       it is able to near the planet Organia.  This would put ourselves at
       grave risk, but will prevent the destruction of a planet."

            "Spock," Jim placed his hand on his friend's shoulder, "trust
       me.  I have a plan, and while we execute it, I'll show you why a
       humble Starship Captain can beat his logical Vulcan First Officer
       consistently at chess."  Jim moved aside.  "Man the console," he
       said to Spock.  Then looked to the Lieutenant standing away from
       his post.  "Mr. Kyle?"

            "Yes, Sir?" he felt entirely left out of the conversation and
       was not just a little surprised by it.

            "What you are going to see is classified, dangerous and
       possibly a court-martial offense.  So unless it goes before a board
       of inquiry, mum's the word."

            "Mum, Sir?", he asked, genuinely confused.

            "Not a word," Kirk placed his index finger to his lips.

            "Aye, Sir."

            "Spock, are you able to scan the shuttle?" Jim asked.

            "There was some interference, but I now have a positive sensor
       lock on the craft itself," he said while adjusting controls.  "You
       mentioned Chess, Captain?"

            Jim restrained the look of amusement that he was inclined to
       facially display at the Vulcan's obvious curiosity.  A quality that
       Jim enjoyed seeing in his friend.  "Sometimes, the passion for
       winning, or the threat of losing, can be a 'well' of inspiration,
       Mr. Spock.  Such is the urgency of this situation. Lock
       geographic sensors onto the explosive in Grensk's chest."  He
       observed Spock's operation of the equipment, confident that his
       precision was equal to the task.

            "Nothing personal, Spock, but logic can even hinder the
       process that motivates, that drives us to decisions that must be
       made.  Deep concern about the cost of failure is another driving
       factor."

            "Secondary lock confirmed," he said, glancing up to Jim with
       an inquisitive look.  "Passion hardly seems a formidable strategy
       in a mathematically logical game such as Chess.  The end result
       would seem to be chaos, rather than 'Check Mate'," he stated
       matter-of-factly, in defense of his Vulcan heritage and their

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       standing philosophy.

            "Sulu, to Captain Kirk. Sir, more bad news. All sub-space
       broadcasting equipment has been damaged beyond repair and estimates
       on tractor beam repair is 5 hours."

            Jim pressed the communications switch and responded, "Mr.
       Sulu, I'm not surprised.  Continue Impulse pursuit.  Kirk out."
       Then to Spock, "Locate the upper perimeter of the explosive, plus
       10 centimeters."  Spock raised an eyebrow, hinting of his
       understanding at what the Captain had planned.

            "You are correct in your comment comparing it to 'chaos' Mr.
       Spock, as that can often be the result.  But it is the balance
       between the two: emotion used reasonably.  We also have faith that
       the unproven or the untried, can be accomplished, though we have no
       evidence of it until it is tried.  This 'faith' is the greatest
       evidence I know of, that separates us from the animals, Spock, for
       unlike them, we can believe in something that our 5 senses or
       previous experience cannot corroborate or conclusively prove."

            "Upper boundary from the Lieutenant's chest cavity, located
       and confirmed," spoke Spock, still continuing the difficult
       operation, while pondering his captain's insight.

            "Lock transporter beam terminator to those coordinates."

            "Transporter beam locked."

            Jim took a deep breath.  "Mr. Spock, energize!"

            With controls in hand, Spock slowly moved the matter gain
       levers forward.  Pad 'A' started to shimmer and the outline of
       something began to form.  Then the base of the platform exploded
       with a loud 'crack'.

            "Cross circuit to 'B', Mr. Spock," spoke Mr. Kyle, as he
       shielded his eyes from the blast.

            Spock's hands worked to bypass the channel with a simplistic
       ease that moved Lt. Kyle to envy.  No stress could be seen in him,
       every movement exactingly correct.  Pad 'B' began to glow, in the
       now, smoky room.  "I am reducing termination boundary by 5
       centimeters," he said above the hum of the machinery.

            This time the shimmering on the pad began to solidify, and the
       disembodied head of Lieutenant Grensk, began to take shape, less
       than 2 meters above the platform.  As more mass was added, the head
       slowly descended to the deck and came to rest, eyes open and mouth
       forming words without voice.

            "Check-and-mate, Mr. Spock," said the Captain, as he went to
       the platform and stooped to pick up the remains of the android.

            Lt. Kyle stood speechless at what he had just witnessed.  He
       appeared to be an unwitting accomplice to murder.  Jim looked over

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       his shoulder at the lieutenant and realized it might be wise to
       explain.  Just a little.

            "It's OK, Mr. Kyle, that is an android, not a human.  I don't
       think this qualifies as murder."

            "A-aye, Sir," he said, blinking his eyes and fighting his
       initial shock.

            "The shuttle is starting to drift off course, Captain," Spock
       said, looking at the equipment.  "I am curious, sir, as to how you
       came to suspect the Grensk android from the beginning?"

            "As you did, you mean?" James said, sharing the credit.  "It
       seemed odd to me, simply the way he looked at me.  They say that
       the eyes are the windows to the soul.  Perhaps it was his lack of
       soul, that was the tip-off."  He looked at Spock and could tell
       that the Vulcan was not buying it.  In the past, they both had been
       deceived by androids who had as much soul as Grensk.  "Alright,
       maybe when they removed the parts of his internal workings in his
       chest to make room for the explosive, they damaged the circuit that
       allowed him to blink his eyes normally.  In the conference room, I
       noticed that he seemed to be a bit sluggish in the 'eye batting'
       department."

            "That could explain it," Spock conceded.  "With your
       permission, it seems appropriate for one of us to retrieve the
       shuttle and Lieutenant Grensk's body.   I volunteer."

            "Agreed, Mr. Spock. I'll have a security team with antigravs,
       meet you upon your return.  Be careful," he stressed the last.

            "Mr. Kyle, you may return to your post and energize when
       ready," stated Spock as he made for the platform.

            "Aye, Sir."  The Lieutenant reset the console and quickly but
       carefully set them for the First Officer's destination.

            "Captain?" Spock stated rather than questioned.

            "Yes, Spock?" Jim stepped back from the transporter, cradling
       the heavy android head in his arms.

            "I will consider your 'chess' strategy."

            "Ready to transport Mr. Spock," came Kyle.

            "Energize," Spock said with his arms behind his back in a
       formal stance, and with that he began to shimmer and disappear.








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