ORRIEN'S HANDS, cuffed with the binders, extended imploringly toward Spock as the Vulcan reached to hurriedly disconnect the generator from its conduit. "Please, "the Romulan begged. "There is a chance we may not be successful in our escape. Please give me a moment to say good-bye to my people."
"Spock, we don't have time for this," McCoy urged, already standing at the top of the stairs. He glanced down at the creature, marveling at it, and hoped that it wouldn't feel much pain when the end came. Twenty minutes could pass pretty quickly when you weren't paying attention.
Spock stared deeply into the younger Romulan's eyes. Something passed unspoken between them. Spock lifted his hands from the generator. "You have thirty seconds."
"Spock—"
"Thank you." Orrien bent over the mike. "Commander Telris, can you read me?"
The connection came through immediately, though somewhat brokenly now that Elizsen's systems were being depleted. "What is it, Orrien?" Telris sounded harried, as well he might.
Orrien began speaking rapidly in Romulan, his tongue flowing over the cadences of his native speech, so much more melodic than Klingon. It took him less than thirty seconds to say what he needed to say, and he stepped back from the generator, flushed with success, his eyes bright.
"What was all that about?" McCoy asked suspiciously, not liking the jubilant look in the young man's eyes.
Spock raised an eyebrow. "He has just told his commander how to modulate the output of the Elizsen's engines to counteract the creature's effect on his ship," he said calmly.
Orrien kept his gaze steady. "I have no more wish to see my shipmates destroyed than do you! Your ship has a chance. Does not mine also deserve the same?"
Leno sputtered. "If it weren't for you Romulans, we wouldn't be in this mess."
"Ensign," Spock admonished gently. "This avails us nothing. The damage, if there is any, has been done. We have little time to dispute the matter in any case." He quickly disconnected the generator, slid it into its sling, and pushed it across the countertop toward Leno. She slung the carry strap across her shoulders. Her eyes, on Orrien, were murderous.
Spock nodded to Chekov. "If you do not wish to carry our prisoner, Lieutenant, you must at least release his legs." His dark eyes fastened on Orrien's face as the Russian bent to untie the Romulan's bonds. "In truth, do you know the way to the escape pods?"
The Romulan nodded eagerly. "Yes! I've seen the schematics for this station. They are right below this level."
"I wouldn't trust him if I were you," Leno warned. "Why should he tell the truth?"
"Because he wants to live as much as we do," McCoy said. "Or at least I hope he does." He waved an arm. "Let's get moving!"
He was halfway down the stairs with the others behind him, Orrien being carefully watched between Chekov and Leno, when he realized that Spock wasn't with them. McCoy pulled up short, nearly causing Chekov to stumble over him, and wheeled around. The first officer was still seated at the console. "Spock! What the hell do you think you're doing?"
The Vulcan sighed wearily. "Remaining here, Doctor. I no longer have the strength to—" He wavered. His eyes abruptly rolled up in his head, and Spock pitched forward onto the floor.
"Dammit to hell!" McCoy pushed past the others, taking the stairs two at a time, and skidded to a stop on his knees beside the prostrate Vulcan. "Spock!" He rolled him over and checked his pulse through the material of the e-suit. Still alive, though the beat was rapid and a mere thread. He checked the Vulcan's eyes.
"Can't you give him something?" Chekov called.
"I don't have anything left," McCoy explained angrily. "I didn't think we'd be setting up housekeeping here."
"Doctor!" Leno urged. "We have to get moving!"
"Tell me something I don't know, Ensign." Taking a deep breath, McCoy bent and, contorting wildly and convinced he would die from a burst artery, he hefted Spock's body across his shoulders in a fireman's carry. He bobbed his head at the others. "Go on! Get moving! I'm right behind you!" His knees felt as if they would crack wide open as he stood with Spock's full weight. "If I don't pass out first," he muttered to himself and started for the stairs.
Orrien and Chekov were two levels down already and moving fast. Leno was still there.
"What the hell are you waiting for?" he demanded.
"Here!" She thrust the generator at him by way of reply and, before McCoy could think to protest, eased Spock off the doctor's shoulders and onto her own.
"Leno—"
"Look, Doctor, we don't have time for an argument. I'm younger than you and I'm trained to do this kind of thing. I can run with someone in a full body carry. Can you say the same thing?"
"Not unless I have several drinks in me, Ensign, and feel like embellishing my life's story," McCoy admitted. He hefted the generator. "Lead on."
He was astounded by how quickly she could take the stairs with Spock's lean body draped across her shoulders like a weird version of a mink stole. He clattered along behind her, gained the floor at her heels, and crossed engineering at a run. McCoy spared one final, brief glance at the creature they'd discovered. It vibrated, colors rushing outward like the rings from a stone tossed into a pool of water. The humming it made had risen to a chiming sound, like what McCoy had always thought the stars should sound like.
There was no time to marvel. Following Leno, they raced for a lower-level door being held open by Chekov and dashed through into the outside corridor.
It was little more than a narrow stairwell, leading them upward. Orrien hurried ahead of them, running awkwardly with his bound hands behind him. Chekov ran hot on his heels should the Romulan try anything nasty. Behind them came Leno, her face flushed with exertion, Spock bouncing across her shoulders, and McCoy tagged along last, heart drumming in his ears.
"Up here!" the Romulan cried and held open another door. "The escape pods are at the top of these stairs!" He dashed through and they followed him down and around a corner.
Chekov skidded to a stop, his wail of dismay heralding news McCoy was certain he didn't want to hear. The security chief pounded his fist against the transparent wall separating them from the escape pod bay and didn't seem to care when it set his arm to bleeding again.
"What's the matter?" McCoy asked, panting. He wiped sweat out of his eyes and turned. "Oh, hell …"
The podbay doors were wide open to the universe, flooding the bay with vacuum. The pods were there, but inaccessible so long as those doors were open.
"Try the generator!" Leno gasped, shifting Spock's weight more evenly across her broad shoulders.
"We don't have time!"
"We don't have time not to try, Doctor!" Chekov rasped. He thrust the Romulan weapon into McCoy's hand and all but tore the generator off the doctor's shoulder, hurling the sling aside and pulling free the connecting wires, his eyes searching feverishly for a conduit. His hands were shaking so badly that McCoy wondered if he'd even be able to make the connections.
He couldn't watch. He turned his back and stared at the vastness of space beyond the open bay doors. The Enterprise was out there, somewhere, and the Elizsen. Who would successfully power up first? Would it be the Enterprise and would Jim bring them home in the nick of time? Or would it be the Romulan ship, homing in to destroy Kirk's beloved vessel at all costs?
* * *
Kirk knew his unceasing pacing wasn't doing any good to his ribs, but he couldn't sit still, not with so much hanging in the balance. "Power, Mr. Sulu?"
"No access to impulse power as yet, Captain, but systems are on the rise."
Too slowly, much too slowly. The Romulan helmsman had said detonation was encoded for twenty minutes. That was down to fifteen now, but would the creature's presence change that? Lessen it? Extend it? Kirk just didn't know and couldn't guess.
On the viewscreen, Valgard was being drawn in by the same tractor beam pulses with which they'd hoped to bring the Enterprise closer to Reltah. Even the little bit more power afforded the starship by Mr. Scott's work in Engineering allowed them to do that much, for all the good it would do. If they didn't get impulse power in less than fifteen minutes, the only consolation to Jaffe and Corey would be that they got to die among friends instead of alone in a shuttlecraft.
"Can you scan Elizsen, Sulu? Are they powering up?"
"Trying, Captain." The helmsman bent over his controls. "Hard to get a clear reading, sir. She's moving, but much too slowly to clear the blast range."
"But she's moving," he mused. "How did they manage that?"
"They don't have a shuttlecraft to worry about," Sulu reminded him. "Or people on the station. Not that they care about, anyway."
"And they had less ground to make up, sir," Estano added from the weapons console, where he could do absolutely nothing but stare at controls that wouldn't respond. He looked like he'd like to take a potshot at the Elizsen and, had they the power, Kirk might have let him. "But we have Mr. Scott and over four hundred Human crew. That ought to make some difference."
Kirk liked the younger man's enthusiasm. "Very true, Mr. Estano. Thank you for reminding me." The captain pulled at his lip. The pain in his side had dulled to a numbing ache. Evidently, he'd convinced it that he wasn't going to pay attention to it, so it had decided to go to sleep. Good. "Any sign of life pods from the station?"
"No, sir," Sulu responded heavily. He didn't need to tell Kirk that there was a good chance they wouldn't see any. Even if the landing party got to them on time, there was no guarantee they could jettison them, let alone get clear of the station before she blew. And without transporter capabilities, there was no way the Enterprise could aid in their escape.
"Any contact with the away team, Uhura?"
"Nothing, sir," she said tensely, a fine line sketched between her arched brows. "But it isn't likely we will, if they're trying to make their escape."
Kirk nodded brusquely. She was right, of course.
"Transporter room to bridge."
Kirk's heart skipped a beat. Was something finally going to go right after all? He crossed the bridge in two strides and hit the communications button on his chair. "Kirk here, Rand. What is it? Have you found them?"
Her voice had its usual clipped, precise tones, but she sounded shaken, nevertheless. "The signal is weak due to our low power, Captain, but I believe I've located the landing party's coordinates. But I can't beam them back, sir!" He had never heard her sound so desperate.
"You can't—" Kirk sank into his chair, unable to stand against this final blow. "Why not?"
"Interference from the buildup of detonation aboard the space station is playing havoc with the signal," she explained bleakly. "I can't get a clear fix, so I don't dare attempt transport."
Kirk grasped at straws. "Is there any way to boost the signal?"
"Negative, Captain. Even if we were up to full power, we'd still need a clear signal from the source. If I can't get a fix, I can't bring them home." She sounded so defeated.
Kirk knew how she felt. He did not want to state the obvious, but he needed to hear it. "Rand—" He swallowed hard. "There's no way we can transport the away team back to the ship?"
"I'm afraid not, sir, not short of stopping the detonation."
And there's no way to do that. Rage poured through Kirk in a heady rush that nearly set his ears to ringing. "Scotty!" he barked.
"Aye, sir!" came the chief engineer's immediate response.
"Any estimate on how soon we'll have impulse power?"
"It's building, Captain," came the Scotsman's response. "I put it at fifteen minutes."
Kirk glanced at the clock. Ten minutes until detonation. There was only one thing left to do. "Mr. Sulu, is Valgard back aboard the ship?"
"They've just brought her in, Captain. Jaffe and Corey are suffering from the effects of exposure and are being taken to sickbay."
Kirk was sorrier than he could say that it wouldn't be worth the effort. "Put Elizsen on the screens, please." The view changed to that of the Romulan vessel, slowly pulling away (away, damn them!) from the Enterprise. Kirk took a deep breath, decided. "Mr. Sulu, divert all power to the tractor beam."
The helmsman turned in his chair and gifted his captain with a singularly confused expression. "Sir?"
"You heard me, Mr. Sulu," Kirk said calmly. He could not remember ever having felt so calm in his entire career. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the screen. "Direct the tractor beam on Elizsen." His mouth pursed, and he stared with hard eyes at the Romulan vessel.
Pleasure lit the Asian's dark eyes. "Aye, sir!" His head bobbed in a quick nod and his fingers danced across his board. "Power being diverted to tractor beam, Captain. Training on Elizsen … now!"
Watching, Kirk couldn't tell for certain if the bird of prey slowed in its flight, but it certainly looked that way. That suspicion was confirmed seconds later when Uhura turned toward him, a vindictive smile on her face. "Captain, Commander Telris would like to have a word with you."
"Visual only, Uhura."
The image of the Elizsen vanished, to be replaced by a silent interior view of her bridge. Telris looked as though he was about to have a seizure. His arms thrust in all directions, replete with rude gestures, and his face darkened as though he might go apoplectic any moment. He was screaming at the top of his lungs, or that's what Kirk supposed he was doing, anyway.
"Keep the tractor beam steady on, Mr. Sulu," Kirk ordered, and let the corner of his mouth rise in a slight smile that almost drove Telris to the breaking point, if looks were any indication.
"She's not going to get away, sir," the helmsman vowed darkly.
Kirk considered the viewscreen. Neither were they.
McCoy found himself watching Orrien and not liking what he saw. The Romulan didn't appear particularly upset about the escape pod situation, certainly not as upset as he had every right to feel …
… if he really cared.
"You knew about this, didn't you?" McCoy asked quietly.
The Romulan turned toward him, features a blank, jaw swollen from Leno's attack. "What?"
"You knew about the podbay being open. You knew we couldn't reach the pods to escape. You sent us down here on a wild-goose chase."
Leno looked up from where she was watching Chekov furiously at work, Spock still slung like a sack of potatoes over her shoulders. "What's the matter, Doctor?"
McCoy nodded toward Orrien and his lip curled in disgust. "I think he knew about this. I think he knew that the pods were inaccessible."
Leno watched the Romulan, a speculative expression on her face. Chekov spoke without looking up. "How could he have known?"
"He was in a ship outside the station, wasn't he?" Leno challenged, following McCoy's line of reasoning. "He could have seen it from there."
Orrien spread his hands as wide as they would go in the binders, palms up in supplication. "I knew nothing! I have no more desire to die than do you! I—" He cut off when Chekov shoved the generator aside.
"Govno!" The Russian spat, shaking his head. "It's no good, any of it! The creature must have finally gotten a taste for the generator, because I can't get any power out of it at all." He looked back over his shoulder at the podbay and the open vista of space beyond. "We're not going out this way."
"There have to be other bays," Leno argued. "Probably on this level. If we just make a circuit—"
"That's providing we have the time," McCoy reminded her. "Detonation was encoded for twenty minutes." He glanced for the time. "We have ten minutes left."
"Then that's ten minutes we have left to try to stay alive!" Chekov vowed hotly. "Come on! Leno had a good idea. We'll circle around this level and—"
Orrien interrupted him. "There aren't any more bays on this level. I told you, I've seen the schematics. The next one is one level up, but a quarter around the station."
Chekov's eyes bore into his. "Can we make it in ten minutes?"
The Romulan's gaze was level, meeting the Russian's eyes unflinchingly. "We can make it in five if we run."
"Then let's go."
"I can't believe you're going to trust him again!" Leno was incredulous.
"What choice do we have, Ensign?" Chekov asked bitterly. He turned and held out his arms. "Let me take Mr. Spock."
She took a step backward. "Not on your life, Chief.
I've already gotten acclimated to the weight. It'll throw you off your stride."
"Leno—"
"For God's sake, you two, we don't have time to argue about it!" McCoy chastened them. "We'll discuss this in committee when we get back aboard the ship. Now, will you come on!" He turned, gave Orrien a shove, and followed in the Romulan's wake. The security guards fell in at the doctor's heels.
A stitch of red-hot fire had worked its way up under McCoy's rib cage, flaring with every breath he took as he pounded along after Orrien. The run certainly felt a whole lot longer than five minutes, but McCoy knew that wasn't the case when he checked the time. Behind him, he heard Chekov's and Leno's ragged breathing. The woman must be exhausted from hauling Spock around, but she wouldn't admit it and wouldn't give up.
"This way!" Orrien urged from several yards ahead. "It's not much farther!" He skidded into a doorway. "In here!"
"Thank God," McCoy panted. But was it worth it? Would five minutes grant them enough time? He followed Orrien and stumbled to a stop just inside the door, catching himself on the jamb, his lung heaving white heat. He stared around him. "What the hell is this?"
It wasn't a podbay, or a shuttlebay, or anything remotely resembling any type of escape from the station. Orrien had led them into a small lounge fronted with wide windows affording a view of the galaxy and the two ships, which McCoy might have appreciated at another time, but not today. He turned and stared at the Romulan just as Leno and Chekov raced into the room and stopped dead.
Leno pulled up too short, and Spock slid from her shoulders into an untidy heap on the floor. "What the hell is this?"
"My question exactly, Ensign," McCoy growled. He rounded on Orrien. "What's the meaning of this?"
The Romulan laughed with malicious delight. "You Federation sheep are so easy to dupe! You didn't honestly think I'd let you escape from here, did you?"
"What are you talking about?" Chekov asked tensely.
"I promised my commander that I would do what needs doing. Did you really think that meant helping you escape?" He laughed, delighted. "You did!" He grinned openly at Leno. "You were right, little warrior woman. The other podbay is down below, just around the corner from where we were. Too bad you didn't have a schematic of the station to study."
Leno stepped over Spock and slowly advanced toward Orrien, fists coiled and ready to strike. The Romulan backed away from her and around toward the door. His eyes were watchful, but his delight at the upset was evident. "Only Federation worms would be so dishonorable as to strike a bound man."
Chekov moved in the other direction, sliding in behind the Romulan before he realized it. "No, Ensign," Chekov admonished Leno calmly, "this one's mine." He stepped into the punch, catching Orrien off-guard, and sent him flying against the wall where he sprawled, unconscious. "That's for the arm," the Russian muttered and sucked his bruised knuckles.
McCoy turned away from the fracas and stared out at the stars, at the distant images of the Enterprise and the bird of prey. This would be his last view of home, of friends. He lifted Spock onto a couch and sat down beside him, motioning for the others to join them. "We all may as well get comfortable." He watched the Enterprise, his eyes flicking back and forth between the ship and his clock.
"How much time do we have, Doctor?" Leno asked quietly, perched on the edge of one cushion.
"Two minutes, Christina."
"Oh." She chewed her lip. "What are we going to do?"
"That's the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question." And McCoy closed his eyes.
"Captain!" Mr. Scott's joyous voice interrupted Kirk's somewhat vindictive perusal of the Romulan vessel, startling the Enterprise's captain out of his reverie. "We have impulse power!"
Kirk could not have been more startled if God himself had appeared on the bridge to make the announcement. "Time, Sulu!" he barked, as the bridge lights came up to full.
"Two minutes, Captain!"
Not enough time, not damn near enough time … "Rand!"
"Here, Captain!" her voice responded immediately.
"Any change in the signal output from the station?"
"None, sir."
That aced it, then. His friends would die. But if they were going to be forced to forfeit their lives, the Romulans would know the cost. "Status on Elizsen."
"Sensors indicate she's still power-low, sir," Estano responded from his station. He grinned. "I guess all us Humans made the difference."
"I guess so," Kirk agreed. "Mr. Sulu, reverse tractor beam. I want to push Elizsen out of here."
"Sir?"
"You heard me. Uhura, get me Captain Telris."
"Yes, sir." She nodded. "Go ahead."
"On-screen." The viewscreen flared as Kirk stood and tugged his jacket into place, and stepped forward.
The bridge of the Elizsen looked like hell. Emergency lights were low and muddy-looking, the air smoky from burned circuitry. Telris wheeled around and glared at the screen. "Kirk! I demand you release my vessel at once!"
"Or you'll do what, Telris?" Kirk challenged. "You're in no position to make any threats." He folded his arms across his chest. "We're reversing the tractor beam and giving you a shove now." He nodded at Sulu to begin the process. "I want you out of blast range and out of here, preferably back over your own border."
"Or you'll do what?" Telris mimicked. "You have no power."
Kirk smiled lazily, one eye on the clock. "Move us out, Mr. Sulu," he ordered quietly before responding to Telris's jibe. "Don't we? Mr. Estano, give the good captain a warning shot over his bow, please."
"Gladly, Captain."
On the screen, Telris flinched as the Elizsen was narrowly missed by the phaser blast. "How do you have power?" he demanded.
"That's for us to know, Telris. And that was your only warning. You're going back home if I have to cart your carcass past the Neutral Zone by myself."
"So why not let us die?" Telris hissed.
"Why?" Kirk feigned surprise at the question. "Why, because I want you to be my emissary back to the proconsul."
"Your emissary?" Telris asked guardedly. "In what regard?"
Kirk's voice grew only slightly harder than his expression. "Send her a warning from me and from the Federation. Tell her that we are not sleeping—that we are watching. That we are always watching. Tell her your freedom was bought by the lives of my dearest friends. That's rare coinage, Telris, and I will exact a full due if our paths ever cross again."
The Romulan commander started to speak, then evidently thought better of it. "Power!" he snapped at his helmsman.
"Minimal rise, Commander, but not enough to escape blast range in time."
Telris seemed to be having trouble swallowing. "I'll deliver your message, Kirk. Beware the reply."
Kirk met the challenge. "I'll be waiting." At his nod, Uhura cut the connection. As the Enterprise accelerated, pushing the Elizsen ahead of her out of blast range and toward the Romulan border, Kirk turned to watch the final seconds count down on his friends' lives.
Five, four … McCoy kept his silent count. Three, two, one …
And then, nothing.
Time ran out. There was no explosion, but suddenly everything was full of light.
McCoy saw the patterns against his eyelids and opened them, astonished to find himself still alive. Chekov and Leno blinked at each other and stood to stare out the windows, their mouths gaping in astonishment.
"Doctor!" Leno called, and glanced at him quickly over her shoulder, loathe to give up the view. "Do you see it?"
He stood, amazed, and approached the windows. He couldn't see the Enterprise and wondered fleetingly where she might be, even as his eyes were caught by the view outside. Around the station flowed a riot of color, as though they'd all been caught inside some child's paintbox.
"Did the self-destruct fail?" Leno asked wonderingly.
"I don't know," McCoy mused, eyes rapt. He leaned forward to peer more closely at the patterns of light, and suddenly grinned. "Holy cow—"
"What is it, Doctor?" Chekov asked.
"Take a closer look out there and tell me if you see what I see."
They both leaned forward, and McCoy knew by their expression that they did.
Once, on vacation, the doctor had witnessed phosphorescent algae on the ocean. It had been a singularly gorgeous sight, and that was what this most reminded him of. Scintillas of light flashed in all directions, strobing from red to green to blue to other colors for which he couldn't supply a ready name.
"Is that … " Leno shook her head wonderingly. "Is that the creature?"
"Or what used to be the creature," Chekov amended. "Did we kill it, sir?"
"I don't think so, Lieutenant. I've been midwife to a lot of births, and I know babies when I see them."
Their faces brightened with delight. "You mean it was pregnant?" Chekov exclaimed.
McCoy shook his head. "Maybe, but I think it's asexual reproduction brought on by the intense consumption of energy from the detonation. We're damned fortunate that critter knows how to gorge itself."
"I'll say," Leno agreed, her wide eyes following the swirl of colors with all the avidity of a child at Christmas. "Maybe that's what it was looking for all along."
There was a sound deep in the bowels of the station, the sound of something kicking in, and suddenly the room was flooded with light as the station began to power up. For a moment, it was all disorientation, then McCoy suddenly heard a familiar voice. "… come in, please. Reltah, this is the Enterprise. Do you read us? Come in, please. Reltah …"
McCoy unhooked his communicator and flipped it open. "We read you loud and clear, Enterprise," he drawled charmingly.
"BONES!"
He thought he'd never heard Kirk sound so happy. "Why, hello, Captain. Fancy talking to you again. When I didn't see the ship, I thought you'd hightailed it for parts unknown."
Kirk was laughing with relief. "You old—What is all that out there?"
"It's a long story, Captain."
"I imagine it is. Is everyone all right?"
"Well, the Romulan's taking a snooze right now, courtesy of Lieutenant Chekov. Chekov and Leno and I are okay, but Spock needs sickbay right away. Do you have transporter capabilities?"
"We will in a few moments. Everything's coming back on-line. You just say the word, Doctor."
McCoy closed his eyes wearily. "I'm saying the word, Captain. It's time to come home."