THE ZIRGOSIAN WOMAN'S STEP was firm and her eye was clear. Dorelian was ready to go back to Holox, to start building her life there.
"Remember," Dr. McCoy said as they walked through the corridor toward the transporter room, "nothing but bland food for another couple of weeks at least. Your system's had a pretty rough time, and you mustn't ask it to do too much for you just yet."
"I'll remember," Dorelian said. "Dr. McCoy, I don't know how to thank you for giving my life back to me. Anything I could say would be inadequate. But I want you to know I'll be grateful to you for the rest of my life. I owe you everything, you and the Enterprise."
"You don't owe us a thing, Dorelian. I'm just sorry we didn't get here sooner."
They'd reached the transporter room. Mr. Spock was waiting inside to do the honors himself. "I am pleased to see you in good health once again," he greeted Dorelian. "Your recovery was a matter of concern to all of us."
"Thank you, Mr. Spock," she said. "Thank you for everything. I especially thank you for keeping the Zirgosian race alive."
"You are most welcome. But we deeply regret the loss of so many of your numbers."
"Yes, it's a loss that will take a great deal of time to overcome." She lifted her head and smiled. "But we will overcome it, thanks to the Enterprise. I had hoped to say goodbye to Captain Kirk."
"Captain Kirk is … not on board at present," Spock said.
"A pity." She turned to McCoy. "Doctor, I hope we will meet again—under more pleasant circumstances."
McCoy smiled. "So do I, Dorelian, so do I."
She took her place on the transporter platform. "Please tell Captain Kirk," she said as the transporter machinery began to hum, "that I intend to hold him to his promise." And she was gone.
"I hope to be able to tell him," Spock said to the empty platform. "Even though I do not know what the promise is."
"He promised her he'd stop the Sackers," McCoy said.
"Indeed. What an extraordinary promise to make."
"Isn't it."
The transporter room intercom came to life. "Bridge to Mr. Spock! Bridge to Mr. Spock!"
"Spock here."
An anxious young voice said, "Mr. Spock, the captain's distress signal has stopped!"
"I shall be there immediately. Spock out."
"They're dead," Dr. McCoy gasped.
"Not necessarily, Doctor," Spock said calmly as they both hurried to the turbolift. "It is more likely that the Sackers have merely disengaged the distress beacon in the captain's communicator. Bridge." The lift started up. "If they had wanted to kill him, why would they have beamed him aboard their ship first?"
"How do I know? Nobody knows why Sackers do the things they do—not even you, Spock. But I knew something like this was going to happen! I said don't go! Didn't I say don't go?"
Spock sighed patiently. "Doctor, you always say don't go." The turbolift stopped. "The captain had to make the attempt to contact the Sackers—you know that as well as I." Spock headed straight toward the young man seated at the communications station. "Mr. Wittering, a message to Starfleet Command. Inform them that Sackers have kidnapped Captain Kirk, Lieutenant Uhura, and Ensign Chekov and that we are currently attempting to effect their release. Use channel A."
Wittering looked surprised. "The Sackers can intercept channel A."
"That is the point, Mr. Wittering. The Sackers need to be reminded that when they kidnap a starship captain, they can expect to have the entire fleet to contend with."
"Yes, sir. Channel A."
McCoy grunted. "And exactly how do you plan to 'effect their release'? As long as those three are aboard, you can't fire on the ship."
"First we try the obvious. Then if that does not produce results, we look for the less obvious." He picked up the microphone Uhura had connected to the Sacker translator. "Attention, Sacker ship," he said, watching the unreadable words appear on the screen. "You have taken aboard your ship Captain Kirk and two other officers, making a total of five Enterprise personnel you have made your prisoners. If you do not release all five unharmed within one Holox hour, we will destroy the structure you have erected on the planet surface. I repeat—you have one Holox hour to return all prisoners to the Enterprise." He put down the microphone. "Send that, Mr. Wittering."
McCoy was worried … and frightened. He'd seen Jim Kirk work his way out of hot spots before, countless times; but the captain had never been up against anything like the Sackers before. How do you reason with people who destroy whole star systems for no discernible reason whatsoever? And poison innocent colonists just to keep them from becoming a nuisance? And who seem to have no fear at all for their own safety? And now here was Spock threatening to level the Sacker structure on Holox …
"You know, Spock," McCoy said softly, "that threat didn't work before, when Jim tried it."
Spock pressed his lips together. "I am aware of that, Doctor," he answered quietly. "If you have an alternate course of action to suggest, I should be most happy to hear it."
McCoy was silent; he had no such suggestion. But now he was really frightened. The dependable Mr. Spock, the ever-resourceful Mr. Spock, the Mr. Spock who had all the answers—Mr. Spock didn't know what to do.
"I chust ate," Chekov complained. "Right before ve left the Enterprise."
"Eat again," Captain Kirk ordered. "The Sackers may go days between meals, for all we know."
They'd barely had time to shower and change out of their sweaty uniforms when a robed Sacker somewhat shorter than the others they'd seen had come in. The Sacker had brought them something to eat and informed them they had twenty minutes to finish. When Kirk asked why the hurry, the Sacker had said their plans had changed and they were even then beginning to beam up all their personnel from Holox. Kirk guessed they must have heard from Spock.
The food was some sort of stew or thick soup and didn't taste half bad. When they'd taken their helmets off to eat it, they found that the air, while still faintly redolent of Sacker, was at least breathable now. The Sacker commander had kept her word and restored the temperature-control function to their console, so now they were all physically comfortable at least.
"The first thing we have to do," Kirk said between bites, "is find out what they're holding back from us."
Uhura looked up from her dish. "You didn't believe what the commander told us?"
Kirk shook his head. "There's something fishy there. According to her, all the command personnel were killed in the same bridge accident. That means every single Sacker on this ship with command status was on the bridge at the same time. Do you believe that?"
"No," said Uhura, realizing the unlikelihood. "The entire chain of command? That is fishy."
"So the accident wasn't confined to the bridge, or something else is going on. Maybe a mutiny? We're going to have to talk to these so-called people as much as we can, see what we can find out."
Chekov finished the last of his stew and said, "At least now ve know vhy they forced the Gelchenites to poison the colonists instead of blasting the settlement to bits."
Kirk had missed that. "Why?"
"Did that red commander not say they vere veak in the use of weapons? They did not fire upon the colonists because they vere not sure they could hit them."
"Chekov, you're a genius!" Kirk exclaimed. "Of course! They don't know how to launch an attack!"
"I am a chenius," Chekov told Uhura modestly.
"That poisoner we caught—ev Symwid," Kirk went on. "He told me the Sackers teased him and the other two Gelchenites by firing all around their ship before destroying it. But they weren't teasing—they were missing, and not on purpose. That was the best they could do. Hah. Now we've got something to go on! I'll have to find out from Babe just how much they do know."
"Did you hef to call her thet?" Chekov asked Uhura. "Babe is a cute sort of name, and that red monster is not vhat I vould call cute."
"Sorry. I had no idea she'd adopt the word as her name."
"Vhy did she? Is wery strange."
Kirk said, "The Enterprise's record banks say they all do that—they accept names given to them by others outside their race. Even the name Sackers is just a label somebody pinned on them. They never tell anybody their real names, if they have any."
Chekov looked incredulous. "You can call them any name you like and they accept it? I cannot believe thet!"
"Here's your chance to find out," Kirk said as the door opened. "Try it."
The Sacker who'd brought them their food came in for the antigrav table they'd been eating from. The three from the Enterprise hastily donned their helmets. When the Sacker reached out a hand for the table, the robe fell away to show an arm encased in a sac filled with pale red fluid streaked with white.
Chekov stood up and bowed gallantly. "Thet vas wery good, Pinky. Ve thenk you."
The Sacker stopped. She turned slowly to face Chekov. "Pinky? Is that a name?"
"Yes, thet is a name."
The Sacker's head waggled back and forth. "Pinky."
"You do not like it? Then tell us your real name."
"Oh, no, I like it. Pinky is my name." Chekov threw up his arms and walked away from this incomprehensible state of affairs.
"Tell me," Uhura said, "are you a girl Pinky or a boy Pinky? Your computer voice is a bit androgynous."
"I am completely girl Pinky."
Chekov whirled around. "Vhat does your mother call you?"
Pinky hesitated, as if unsure of something. "Everyone will call me Pinky now."
"Give up, Chekov," Uhura smiled.
"Pinky," Kirk said, "we couldn't help noticing your coloring. Are you by any chance the commander's daughter?"
The Sacker suddenly started jiggling up and down in an alarming manner. The others didn't know whether to be afraid or to send for a Sacker doctor.
"Did I offend you?" Kirk asked worriedly. "Forgive me—I meant no insult. Is it forbidden to inquire about family relationships?"
The jiggling increased to near-violent proportions. "Kepten," Chekov said wonderingly, "I think she is laughing!"
Pinky eventually settled down a little. "Her daughter! Babe will not be permitted to donate life for years yet. She is my orthocousin." With that she took the antigrav table and left, still jiggling.
"Orthocousin?" said Chekov.
"She calls her Babe?" said Uhura.
Captain Kirk sighed. "We've got our work cut out for us," he said.
"Still no reply?" Dr. McCoy asked the communications officer.
"No, sir. Nothing yet."
Spock said, "I am sure Mr. Wittering will tell us the moment he receives a communication, Doctor. It is not necessary to query him every thirty seconds."
"Dammit, Spock, we have to do something!"
"I gave the Sackers one hour in which to respond, approximately forty-five of our minutes. They still have twenty-five minutes, thirty-seven seconds left."
"They're not going to answer, you know that!"
"I presume they will not, but I wish to give the Sackers every opportunity to avoid an exchange of hostilities. You must have noted, Doctor, that in a head-to-head confrontation between our two ships, the Enterprise would assuredly come out second best. We are outgunned, presumably outmanned, and definitely outshielded. All other alternatives must be tried before we embark upon what most assuredly would turn out to be a suicide mission."
McCoy knew Spock was right; he just didn't want to admit it. Spock for his part understood the doctor's anxiety—and even shared it to an extent, although he was careful not to show it. The bridge personnel were jittery enough as it was; they needed an acting commander who was steady and in control … or who appeared to be. Spock was struggling with the question of whether to fire on the Sacker blister dome on Holox or not. It was the next logical step to take, but Spock knew that in taking it he could well be signing Chief Engineer Montgomery Scott's death warrant.
No. He couldn't risk Scott's life when there was a way to better the odds. A ground attack on the dome might be just as efficacious as firing from orbit, and it would be safer for Scott and the security man with him, if they were still alive. That, Spock thought wryly, is a rather large 'if'. But until he had evidence to the contrary, he must proceed on the assumption that the two men were not dead.
Time was passing. McCoy was right; the Sackers were not going to answer.
Spock pressed a button in the arm panel of the command chair. "Security—full detail to the transporter room. Mortars and grenades. We shall attempt to penetrate the Sacker dome on Holox."
McCoy's face lit up. "Now you're cooking!"
"I am glad you think so, Dr. McCoy, as you are coming with us. Please pick up your medical kit and report to the transporter room."
"On my way."
"Mr. Sulu, you have the conn. Maintain monitoring of the Sacker ship and notify me immediately of any change in status."
"Yes, sir."
Spock quickly joined McCoy in the turbolift, wondering if he hadn't already left it too late.
Captain Kirk, Uhura, and Chekov crowded around the console screen in their quarters on the Sacker ship. Selected parts of the ship's schematics were being fed through to them, so Kirk would have a chance to familiarize himself with the layout before taking command. Notations were in two languages, English and one other that the three from the Enterprise assumed must be Zirgosian. Nobody knew the Sackers' language except the Sackers—and now Uhura, a little bit.
They read in silence for a while, and then Chekov gulped and said, "It is big!"
"Think of it as a bigger but not necessarily better Enterprise," Kirk said. "Remember, the Zirgosians weren't finished with it yet when the Sackers took over. That means there are still bugs in here somewhere that haven't been worked out. What we have to do is find them."
"And do what, Captain?" Uhura asked. "Correct them or exploit them?"
"Exploit them. Our primary objective is to get that baryon reverter aboard the Enterprise. If we do it the way Red wants us to—sorry, I mean Babe—then we'll have no control over what happens after the heat advance is stopped. Assuming the reverter works at all, that is. As long as the Sackers have possession of it, they're going to be a threat to the entire galaxy. But if we can beam the thing over to Spock … I wonder how big it is."
"Is there anything in here about it?" Chekov asked.
"Let me see." Uhura tapped a few keys. "No. They're not going to let us look at it."
"Let's go back to the engines," Kirk said. He studied the screen silently for a few minutes and then said "These are some engines. What can they do? How does the radiation-damping work? And what's this device here? Damn, I have a thousand questions and no one to ask! Uhura, how do I use this console to speak to Babe?"
"Press here, talk there."
Kirk pressed and talked. "Kirk to bridge." Immediately the image of the red commanding officer appeared on the screen—without either the concealing cloak or the translator mask. Kirk felt himself flinch, but he didn't look away.
She put on her translator mask. "Commander Babe speaking," she said. "You have a problem, Captain?"
"I need to talk to an engineer. There are parts of the engine plans that are not self-explanatory. Can you send someone to answer questions?"
"Very well, Captain, an engineer will be sent to you." Her image faded from the screen.
"Whew," Uhura breathed heavily. "I guess it's not so bad as long as you don't have to smell them."
"You think so?" asked a white-faced Chekov.
"Let's see what they use in place of a deflector dish," Kirk said. Uhura called up the data. "Hm, an enclosed unit. Very compact. I wonder if the Enterprise could use something like that."
But the Enterprise's navigator wasn't impressed. "I am supposed to get navigational readings from thet?" Chekov protested. "Vhat is the feed route?"
Uhura tapped the keys—and all the data disappeared from the screen. Something unreadable appeared. Uhura said, "It probably means 'Access denied.'"
"Try the weapons system," Kirk said.
Here again they were given limited access, but Kirk was able to determine that the Sacker ship boasted no new superweapon. Of course, with the Zirgosian invention for opening doors between universes they didn't need one. Nevertheless, the Sacker armament still outweighed that of the Enterprise three to one; a battle between the two ships was to be avoided at all costs.
They were interrupted by the sound of the door opening, followed by an indignant voice loudly protesting, "Here now! I'm goin', I'm goin'! Nae need to be proddin' me with those things!" And a helmeted Chief Engineer Montgomery Scott was propelled unceremoniously into the room.
"Scotty!" Kirk yelled, happily abandoning decorum in his joy at seeing his old friend alive.
"Captain! Uhura! Chekov!" There was much pounding of backs and squeezing of shoulders. Scotty picked Uhura up and gave her a hug that took her breath away. "I'm glad to see ye, lass!" Then his expression changed to one of dismay and he held her off at arm's length. "Nae, I am not glad to see ye! What are y'doin' here? Captain, why did ye leave the Enterprise?"
"Ostensibly to meet with the Sackers, but the meeting was just a ploy to kidnap us. Scotty, how long have you been on this ship?"
"Just since yesterday. They kept me in that hothouse down on Holox until then." He took off his helmet. "Captain, do y'remember Hrolfson, the security man who was with me? They killed him. An' only because he dinna know anythin' about the operation of the Enterprise! That's all the excuse they needed."
Kirk looked sick. "That makes two. They killed Ching, too. Franklin survived."
"Franklin's alive? Ah! Thank heaven for that!"
"Scotty," Uhura said, "how did they kill him?"
"They incinerated him. Burned him alive. I watched 'em do it."
Uhura covered her eyes with her hand and turned away. She crossed the room and sat down at the table.
"Captain," Scotty said, "I'm sorry to have to tell ye, but these beasties know everythin' about the Enterprise that I know. They used a memory probe on us, Hrolfson and me."
"Can't be helped, Scotty. Don't worry about it. What have you been doing since they beamed you aboard?"
"Checkin' the engines. Their chief engineer was killed in some sort of accident."
Kirk and Chekov exchanged a quick look. "Their enchineer too?" the latter said. "Also their navigator, their communications officer—and their kepten."
Scotty's eyes grew wide. "What's this?"
"It's true," Kirk said. "That's the reason we're all here. They want us to run their bloody ship for them."
For once in his life, Scotty was speechless.
"Vhat is going on here?" Chekov asked the room at large.
"Isn't this interesting," Kirk mused. "I ask them to send me someone to answer questions about the engines, and they send me a man who's never been inside this ship until a day ago. Scotty—you are their expert on their own engines?"
"I think I must be, Captain. Mr. Green is only a trainee an'—"
"Who?"
"Ah, that's me Sacker, the one who's been stickin' to me like glue. I call him Mr. Green. Anyhoo, he's only in trainin' but he knows more than any of the rest o' them. They don't have one real engineer on this ship. Not countin' me, o' course. But Captain, I have a lot to tell ye."
"Let's sit."
They joined Uhura at the table. "Mr. Green must be younger than he looks," Scotty said, "even though he looks as if he's been dead a coupla hundred years. But he talks too much. D'ye know what they were doin' down on Holox? They were growin' baby Sackers!"
This was news. "Cloning?" Kirk asked. "In vitro?"
"In vitro. There were these huge vats of bubbly stuff kept at ultrahigh temperatures. Mr. Green says the entire Sacker race lives in clans o' one thousand individuals, but I couldna get him to tell me how many clans are scattered throughout the galaxy. An' Captain, they're totally nomadic. Somethin' happened to their home system some time back and they've been wanderin' ever since. Aboard ship is the only home the younger Sackers have ever known."
"And so they started making contact with Federation worlds," Kirk mused, "looking for a place to settle? And found they made every race they met sick at their stomachs. Go on."
"They're very strict about keepin' the clan number at exactly one thousand. When one o' them dies, they just put down on the nearest planet an' grow a new one. But Captain, I saw half a dozen vats down there! An' they were big ones—lots o' baby Sackers floatin' around inside."
"They're replacing all of their command personnel," Uhura told him. "Whatever that accident was, it took out everybody capable of running the ship."
"Ah. I see."
"Why do they have to go to a planet to incubate?" Kirk asked. "Why not do it on board?"
"The ship is certainly big enough to hold a nursery," Chekov remarked.
"Well, Mr. Green says infant Sackers canna survive in space," Scotty explained. "Sacker bodies have these wee white things crawlin' around inside—"
"We've seen them," Kirk said shortly.
"They're part o' the Sacker nervous system, an' they stay immobile for the first week or two o' life. Once these white things start movin' around, the Sackers beam the babies aboard an' they all go on to wherever they're goin' next."
Kirk nodded, thinking. "You know what this means? The accident that killed off their command personnel must have happened after they destroyed the Zirgosian system. Babe couldn't have directed an operation like that, not if she needs our help to run the ship."
"Babe? And who might Babe be?"
"The Sacker commander," Chekov grinned. "Uhura named her."
"Inadvertently," Uhura said.
"Uhura!" Scotty said in a tone of reprimand. "Callin' another woman 'Babe'!"
"She's not exactly another woman, Scotty," Uhura protested dryly. "Besides, I was being sarcastic."
"We probably have a bunch of people here trying to work outside their own fields," Kirk commented. "Geologists trying to be navigators, that sort of thing. This is good. They won't know when we're lying to them."
Just then the door opened and Pinky came in, carrying another air mattress and blanket. "The Scott is to stay here also," she said and was gone before they could get their helmets on.
When they'd finished gagging, Scotty said, "What was that?"
"Thet vas Pinky," Chekov explained. "She is our Sacker."
"All right, listen up," Kirk ordered, taking deep breaths. "Here's the plan. Scotty, I want you to look for ways to sabotage the engines a little bit. Don't put them out of commission. Just make them sluggish in responding, or cause them to vibrate excessively—anything you can think of to buy a little time without incapacitating the ship. Can you do that?"
"Aye, Captain, can do. I'll work on the bleeder valves. That'll make the ship buck like a bad-tempered horse when we go into warp."
"Good! That's exactly what I want. Uhura, you are to try to find out as much as you can about this accident that killed off the command personnel. Get as many specifics as you can. They aren't telling us the whole story. Get the Sackers to talk, see what you can piece together."
"Yes, sir. Will I be instructing trainees?"
"It sounds like it from what Babe told us. Chekov—you've got the hardest job of all. I want you to find out where on the ship they're keeping the baryon reverter. As navigator you'll be within your rights to ask to inspect whatever unit they're using instead of a deflector dish—take advantage of it, look around. I know you won't have free run of the ship, but do the best you can."
"Yes, sir. If there is vun place on the ship none of us is allowed to go, thet is probably vhere the rewerter is being kept."
"Good point. Do you all understand what you have to do? Are there any questions?"
"One," Uhura asked. "What do you plan to be doing while we're doing all of this?"
"Who, me?" Kirk grinned. "Why, I plan to work on Babe, of course."
* * *
Mr. Spock checked his tricorder. No doubt about it; the heat the Sacker dome emitted was decreasing appreciably. "You are right, Doctor. The dome is cooling down."
"Thought so," McCoy said. "I was sweating when we first got here."
They were crouched behind a jumble of sandstone in the Holox desert. The security force Spock had ordered down had been able to advance to within a hundred meters of the dome without being challenged. There was no sound from the dome, no sign of activity.
"Don't they post guards?" McCoy asked, uneasy at being that close to Sackers.
"Possibly they depend upon sensors to warn them," Spock answered. "They may already be aware of our presence."
"Then why haven't they done anything?"
"I do not know, Doctor."
Spock's communicator sounded. "Berengaria here. We've circled the dome, Mr. Spock. We can't find an entrance."
"Then we shall make one, Lieutenant. Remain where you are and leave your communicator open. I shall join you." He turned to McCoy. "Wait here. Do not approach the dome unless I call for you."
"Count on it," McCoy shuddered.
Spock began to move cautiously, following Berengaria's communicator signal around the perimeter until he found her and several other members of the team kneeling in a natural depression in the ground. Berengaria had already ordered a photon grenade mortar into place, and the man handling it was taking point-blank aim at the dome.
"Any time you're ready," Berengaria greeted Spock.
"At your discretion, Lieutenant."
"Fire."
It took two shots, but a gaping hole appeared in the dome at ground level, the edges curling back as they burned. Spock pressed the stun select button on his phaser and started toward the dome, but a word from Berengaria made him fall back and let her team go in first. They slipped quickly around the still smoking edges of the hole to avoid being backlighted; Spock did the same and hunched down, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dim interior. A decidedly unpleasant odor assaulted his olfactory senses, causing a twinge of nausea. The fetidness was uncommonly offensive.
"Stinks in here," Berengaria said.
The fresh air pouring in through the hole they'd forced in the side of the dome gradually made the smell bearable. The security team spread out, cautiously searching for the dome's inhabitants. Spock stuck to the wall, thinking that was where any lingering Sacker might be hiding. But he circled the entire interior without finding anyone.
"Nobody's home, Mr. Spock," Berengaria called out.
Even though the Sackers had gone, the dome was still uncomfortably warm for most of the Enterprise crew. They found evidence of equipment no longer there—probably generators and similar machinery. A transparent, cell-like cube stood opposite the entry they'd made, its purpose unclear. But what caught their attention was a series of enormous plastiform vats, six in all, with their pipes, tubes, and wires now unconnected to any machine or instrument that might have provided a clue to their use. The vats were empty.
"Now what do you suppose these are?" Berengaria asked, knocking on the side of one of them. "Storage bins?"
Spock was studying the control panel on the side, trying to decipher the purpose of the dials without knowing the language used for the notations. "I do not think so," he answered Berengaria. "They are more likely to be giant pressure cookers."
"Pressure cookers!"
Spock opened his communicator. "Spock to McCoy."
"McCoy here. What's happening, Spock?"
"The Sackers have departed, Doctor. Please come into the dome. You will find an entrance on the side opposite to where you are now."
Spock thought he knew what the vats had been used for. A hunch, Jim Kirk would call it. But while Spock trusted Kirk's hunches, he was leery of his own. He had them too seldom to have reached any conclusion as to their reliability.
He walked around the vat, inspecting the various gauges. Then he moved to the next one, and a quick look told him it was identical to the first. He abandoned the vats to look at the strange cell that seemed to have no connection with anything else. He located a door and opened it. The temperature inside was lower than that of the rest of the dome, which meant it had undoubtedly been even lower still before the Sackers removed all their equipment and the two temperatures began to equalize. Spock placed a hand against one of the walls. Decidedly cool.
What did the Sackers keep in here that required a lower temperature than the rest of the dome? Could it possibly have been a human being? Spock's heart beat a little faster at the thought that Mr. Scott might be alive after all.
"Yucch. What a smell!" Dr. McCoy had arrived.
Spock stepped out of the cell. "Doctor, I would like you to take a look at—"
"What about Scotty?" McCoy interrupted.
"I think he is alive and on board the Sacker ship." He explained about the cell and what he thought it had been used for.
"He's alive!" McCoy accepted it as fact. But then his face clouded. "Dammit, Spock, if we'd just come a little earlier—"
"We might all have been killed," Spock interrupted in his turn, "including Mr. Scott. Please inspect these vats, Doctor. Tell me if you know what they were used for."
McCoy glanced at the nearest one and said, "Why, they're incubation vats." He walked around the vat, peering at the control panel and the various gauges the same way Spock had done. "Yep, that's what they are, all right. So Sacker females don't gestate—they reproduce externally. These incubators were filled with some sort of chemical nutrient and the fetuses were grown right here."
Spock nodded, and filed the information away under Hunches, Confirmed. "Quite possibly the Sacker reproductive cycle adheres to a rigid time schedule, forcing them to stop everything else while they attend to their newborn. But it does seem odd that they would have started their assault on our universe so soon before such reproduction was due. No, there must undoubtedly be some other reason behind this. Why such an urgent need to reproduce more Sackers?"
"They're growing an army," McCoy growled.
Spock's communicator beeped. "Spock here."
It was Sulu. "Mr. Spock, the Sacker ship is leaving orbit!"
"Have us beamed aboard immediately, Mr. Sulu." He summoned Berengaria and her team.
They beamed up to the Enterprise and hurried to their posts. A shared sense of urgency kept them from speaking; the moment they'd both wished for and dreaded was at hand. The Sackers were at last making their move.