KIRK TRIED to bring his breathing under control. His heart pounded and he felt twitchy as a cat in a kennel. Being shot at always did that to him. Usually afterward, when he had time to think about it, but somehow the reaction always seemed even worse for the delay. Once the fighting was over he had far too much time to reconsider his actions and berate himself for all his bad decisions.
He had plenty of them to think about now. The look of shock on Ensign Lebrun's face when she was hit would haunt him forever. She'd had no time to feel anything before she was hit again; her death had been painless, clean, and sanitary—but she was just as dead.
Kirk would love to blame Harry Mudd for that. Mudd had, after all, delayed their getaway with his greedy side trip to this vault. But he had already paid dearly for his avarice, and in truth the vault had probably saved the rest of their lives. Without it they would have been caught in the crossfire somewhere farther along and not had any place like this to retreat to. Kirk could hear fighting outside even through the massive door. This was no small-scale skirmish; this was an all-out assault on the planetary government. The Prastorians were sweeping through the entire palace.
Besides, if anyone was to blame for her death, it was Kirk. Lebrun had been doing her duty, which was to protect her crewmates—and especially her captain—from harm. If he hadn't brought her here, or if he hadn't come in person to do a job that could probably have been done by communicator if he had insisted on it, she would still be alive.
He knew his reasoning was faulty. Spock had told him so often enough in similar circumstances. If he followed that argument to its logical conclusion, then Admiral Tyers was responsible for ordering them here in the first place, or it was Lebrun's own fault for joining Starfleet before that. But Kirk felt personally responsible even so. Maybe everyone was to blame, including himself. There was certainly plenty of guilt to go around.
Mudd groaned feebly, and Kirk looked down at him. His normally round features looked harsh and angular in the flashlight beam, and his eyes had rolled up in their sockets, giving him a blank white stare that sent shivers down Kirk's spine. All the anger he felt for Mudd fled at the sight of him lying there, helpless and dying, at Kirk's feet.
"Can you do anything for him, Bones?" he asked.
McCoy shook his head sadly. "I'm trying to stabilize him, but he's just too badly hurt. Those damned disruptors don't leave a doctor anything to work with. I'll have to put him on full life support within the next couple of minutes or I'm afraid we'll lose him."
Kirk considered ordering the Enterprise to target the palace's shield generators so they could beam out immediately. It was only a matter of time before they went down anyway. But it would undoubtedly be considered an act of war, and Starfleet would have his head if he tried it. He couldn't take that kind of action just to save one man.
Now every harsh word he had heaped on Mudd was coming back to haunt him. The man hadn't deserved that kind of treatment. He was a fraud and a charlatan and a con artist to beat all con artists, but he was not a scoundrel. He even had an odd sense of honor about him, as long as you realized that he honored wealth and comfort most of all.
And Kirk could hardly fault him for womanizing, now could he?
In another life, Kirk could easily imagine himself and Mudd hoisting a few frothy mugs of Romulan Ale and arm-wrestling for the right to dance first with the prettiest woman at the party. He even knew how it would turn out: Kirk would win, but Mudd would cut in before the song was half over. And they would both go back to drinking and swapping tall tales afterward. Only chance had thrown them together as adversaries.
He knelt down beside Mudd. "It wasn't supposed to happen this way, Harry," he said sadly.
"I'm losing him, Jim," McCoy warned.
Kirk took a deep breath, then pounded his fist into his palm. "No, dammit! I won't let it end like this." He snatched the communicator from his belt, flipped it open, and said, "Kirk to Enterprise. Lock phasers on to the palace shield generator and—"
"Jim!" McCoy shouted.
He looked down to see Mudd shimmering away to nothing.
"Belay that order," Kirk said as Mudd faded away completely. But as seconds passed without beam-out for the rest of them, he said again, "Enterprise, what's the holdup?"
"You said to belay the order, Captain," Uhura replied. "We're still waiting for the shields to go down."
"What? They're still up? Then what happened to Harry?"
"I don't know, sir. What did happen?"
"He disappeared, that's what. I thought you'd beamed him aboard. Bones, could the disruptor charges have had some kind of delayed reaction?"
McCoy shook his head. "I suppose it's possible. I don't know that much about these Nevisian weapons. But it looked more like a transporter effect to me."
"Spock?"
"I concur," said the first officer. "However, if the shields are still functional, there are few places he could have gone. He must still be in the palace."
"Then we've got to find him. Uhura, scan the palace for his transporter trace."
"It won't matter, Jim," McCoy said. "He's dead now anyway."
"You don't know that. He was still—"
"No he wasn't. His heart had already stopped and his brain activity was practically gone as well. I couldn't have saved him even if we had got him on board. Wherever he is now, he's dead."
The vault shook, and over a second later a loud rumble came through the walls. Somebody had blown up something big, far enough away that the sound had taken a moment to reach them.
"Shields are down, sir," Uhura said. "Transporting."
And a moment later, the four surviving Enterprise crew members stood on the platform back on board the ship. The yellow-alert klaxon was still sounding.
Kirk drew a deep breath. He would have loved to take a minute to calm down, but unfortunately duty called.
"Bones, get ready for casualties," he told McCoy. "Gorden, report back to security and let them know what we're up against if we're attacked. Spock, back to the bridge. Hold the fort until I get there."
If his first officer had been anyone but Spock, he would have gone directly to the bridge himself, but he knew Spock would be able to handle the situation for the few minutes he needed to take care of his other duty.
He went to the intercom on the wall and said, "Computer, locate Lieutenant Nordell."
"Lieutenant Nordell is in his quarters," the computer answered.
Kirk already knew where that was, since he had just been there a few days ago to discuss wedding plans. He still held his communicator open, so instead of using the intercom again he spoke into that as he hurried out of the transporter room and into the turbolift with Spock. "Uhura, keep scanning for Mudd, and transmit a message to the Grand General offering medical assistance." That much they could do without violating the Prime Directive. At least not too badly.
"Yes, sir," Uhura replied.
As he and Spock rode the turbolift upship, Kirk looked over and noticed the cut in Spock's cheek.
"You're hurt," he said.
"Not badly," Spock replied. He wiped the trickle of green blood away with the back of his hand, then cleaned his hand on his pants leg.
"Have Bones look at it anyway when you get a chance," Kirk told him, knowing that Spock wouldn't do it unless ordered to.
The turbolift stopped at deck four and Kirk stepped out to perform the duty every captain hates most.
Simon Nordell knew what had happened the moment he saw the captain at his door. He had stood up from the table as he called out "Open," but even before Kirk spoke, he felt his legs go weak and he had to sit back down.
Kirk stepped into the small living room and said, "I'm sorry."
Nordell tried to speak, but his throat had suddenly constricted. Finally he managed to croak, "How?"
"Protecting everyone else's lives," Kirk said. "We came under heavy attack and had to cross a corridor under fire. She was hit by a disruptor."
Nordell had to struggle to make sense of the captain's words. This wasn't just some random security officer Kirk was talking about; this was Nordell's wife. How could something like this happen to her, so soon after their wedding? He tried to imagine her getting shot, then wished he hadn't. The image chilled him to the core.
"Did she—?" Did she suffer? Did she have any last words? But he couldn't bring himself to ask.
"She died instantly," Kirk said. "She was…completely vaporized. There was nothing we could do."
They could have stayed out of danger in the first place, Nordell thought. They could have taken someone else. They would have done just that if she hadn't been available.
But she had. If he hadn't practically driven her out of their quarters, she might still be alive. He looked at the empty laliska glass in front of him, the condensation around its base leaving a ring on the table. He picked it up, hefted it in his hand. The captain watched while he decided whether or not to smash it, but the urge passed and he set it back down.
"We fought," he said, not looking up. "We fought all the time. But I loved her."
"I know," said Kirk. "Sometimes it works that way."
"But you never appreciate what you've got until it's gone, do you?"
The captain shook his head. "No, you never do."
Nordell took a deep breath, let it out slowly. Kirk seemed to be waiting for him to speak, but he had nothing to say.
After a minute, the captain said, "Are you going to be all right? Should I call someone to be with you?"
"No, I'll be fine." Nordell wasn't at all sure if that was true, but if it wasn't then he certainly didn't want someone else around to watch him go to pieces.
"I…have to get to the bridge," Kirk said, glancing upward. Nordell realized the yellow-alert siren was still sounding. He had completely blanked it out the moment the captain entered.
"I should be in engineering," he said, standing.
"You don't have to go if you don't want to," Kirk said.
"I want to." If he was at his job, then maybe he could keep his mind off the mess his life had suddenly become.
Kirk nodded, obviously understanding. Nordell got up, steadied himself against the table, then accompanied him out the door, wondering if he would have the courage to come back later tonight.
The turbolift ride to the bridge seemed to take forever, but Kirk knew no amount of time would erase the image of Nordell's face when he learned of his wife's death. He knew, as Nordell did, that only action would keep him from dwelling on it.
There was plenty of that waiting for him on the bridge. Kirk took in the situation at a glance. Chekov had returned to the navigator's station while they were on the planet, and Scotty was manning the engineering station. Uhura and Spock were also at their posts, and everyone looked tense.
"Captain," Sulu said as soon as Kirk stepped out of the turbolift. "We've just tracked a starship leaving the atmosphere."
"Harry's ship?" Kirk asked.
"I'm not sure. It doesn't have a registry beacon, and it doesn't correspond to any known starship type."
Kirk rounded the railing separating the upper workstations from his command chair and looked over Sulu's shoulder at the situation monitor. The ship was a tiny wedge of silver against the blue-green planet. "Put it on screen," he said.
On the main viewer the ship was bigger, but no more recognizable. But then Kirk hadn't expected the androids to build a Starfleet ship. "Any life-form readings?" he asked Spock.
"None, Captain," Spock replied.
"Keep tracking it. Uhura, have you reached the Grand General yet?"
"Yes, sir," she replied. "He rejects our offer of assistance. He says… he says we've done enough damage already."
"Maybe he's right," Kirk said, settling into his command chair. "What's the situation on the planet?"
"Still fighting, sir," Sulu said. "There's still an awful lot of transporter activity going on between Distrel and Prastor, too."
"Both ways?" Kirk asked.
"Yes, sir. But so far very little fighting has broken out on Prastor."
"At least none that we can detect at this range," Scotty amended. "I'm workin' on increasing the sensor range, but I think we'd be able to see disruptor fire if it was goin' on over there like it is here."
"That's odd. I wonder why people are beaming over there if not to strike back."
"We cannot be sure the beams are carrying passengers," Spock pointed out.
Sulu checked his monitors again and said, "The starship is headed for Prastor as well."
Something wasn't right here. Lots of transporter activity, but no fighting, and a starship suddenly launched on autopilot.
"It's a bomb!" Kirk announced. "Spock, scan that ship for explosives. Or maybe just a triggering device for whatever they're beaming over."
Spock went to work, but a moment later announced, "They're out of range, Captain."
"Chekov, lay in a course to follow them. Sulu, warp factor two." That was plenty fast within a solar system; in fact if they kept it up for long they would overshoot and find themselves in interstellar space.
The Enterprise leaped out of orbit, but the ship on the viewscreen continued to dwindle. "They've gone into warp as well," Sulu said.
"Warp three," Kirk said. At that speed they would catch the ship in seconds—and flash past Prastor only seconds after that.
But the other ship accelerated to warp three as well, then dropped back to normal space the moment it reached the planet.
The Enterprise dropped into orbit only a few thousand kilometers behind. "Scanning," Spock said.
"Somebody's beaming down," Scotty announced at the same time.
There was no intercepting the beam. If that was a bomb…
"Red alert," Kirk said. "Sulu, get ready to take us out of here. Chekov, target that ship and blow it out of space if it moves another inch closer to the planet. Spock, what beamed down?"
"Materializing now, Captain. Scanning…" He paused, narrowed his eyebrows, and said, "It's an android."
"The Stella android?" Kirk asked.
"It appears to be."
"Uh-oh," Kirk said. Thinking aloud, he said, "She's supposed to monitor Harry, and judging by her performance in the cellars she's programmed to protect him as well. But she couldn't find him when the battle broke out because we had left her behind with the Grand General. You don't suppose she's going to try to stop the whole war, do you?"
"How could she do that?" Chekov asked.
"I don't know, but I think we'd better stop her from trying. Spock, send those coordinates to transporter room one." Kirk punched the intercom call button on his armrest and said, "Transporter room, lock on to that android and beam her aboard. Inside a confinement field."
"We are unable to do that," Spock announced. "She has entered a shielded area."
"Dammit!" Kirk said. These two planets had more shields than a Roman legion. But he couldn't let the android run amok down there; if it thought Harry was in danger there was no telling what it would do. "All right, then, we'll do this the hard way. Sulu, Chekov, and Scotty, you come with me. Spock, you have the conn."
He rose from his command chair and headed once more for the turbolift, wondering who he would lose this time.