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“It’s powering up!” Duffy cried, yelling to be heard above the sudden rumbling that filled the control room.

Gomez raced back to the chair and began searching for a control panel. “There’s nothing here!” she yelled.

The ship lurched violently. All of them lost their balance and fell heavily to the metal deck. The vessel heaved and bucked, then appeared to move forward.

There was no screen, no way to see what was happening outside this womblike single room. How had the pilot been able to navigate?

“Gold to away team. I’m getting everyone the hell out of there.”

“What’s happening?” demanded La Forge.

“That ship just woke up, and it’s trampling all over downtown. Prepare to beam aboard.”

They all appeared on the bridge. Duffy materialized directly in front of a furious Corsi. She towered over him, her face red with anger, and hissed, “Look!”

She pointed angrily at the screen. Duffy stared. His captain hadn’t exaggerated. The ship filled the screen. Earlier, they had wondered what function the four protrusions on the otherwise sleek ship might have performed. Now, they saw those strange spikes, seemingly so awkward, in action. They served the vessel as legs, moving clumsily but effectively across the wreckage that had once been a thriving, peaceful city. Thank God there had been time for an evacuation, or by now thousands would probably be dead.

“It looks like it’s . . . walking,” said Bart with faint disgust.

“It is,” said Gold grimly. “And I think there’s an Intarian ordinance against unleashed ships walking around downtown. Try to make contact one more time, Ina, then, McAllan, it’s your turn.”

Ina Mar shook her head. “No response, sir. I don’t think it even heard us.”

Gold sighed. “I hate having to do this. God knows what we’ll lose. McAllan, target weapons systems and fire at will.”

“Sir, I’m unable to detect any weapons systems at all,” replied McAllan in his deep, rich voice, taut now with tension.

“Let me see that,” snapped Corsi, shoving McAllan out of the way. Her fingers flew over the console, her body tense and focused on the task at hand. Nobody could concentrate like “Core-Breach.” Finally, she looked up, confusion and irritation on her face.

“McAllan’s right. It’s impossible to distinguish weapons from propulsion or from anything else.”

“Maybe it’s unarmed,” suggested Abramowitz. “Maybe the people who built it are nonviolent. It could have crashed accidentally.”

“You saw what they did to that pilot,” said Faulwell with unusual vehemence. “That sure wasn’t nonviolent.”

Duffy quickly took his seat again. Gold leaned forward, resting his head on one hand. He rubbed a finger along his chin as he considered the options. “Let’s find out. Corsi, fire a warning shot.”

On the screen, their phaser blast appeared angry and red. The ship stopped dead in its tracks. Looking unsettlingly like a dog sitting and begging, its stern section dropped suddenly and it lifted its upper two “arms.” Blue-black balls of energy exploded forth and screamed out of the atmosphere, striking the da Vinci . The ship shuddered with the impact.

“Shields down thirty-three percent,” said Ina.

“It’s got weapons,” La Forge commented.

“And it’s not very nonviolent,” said Gold. “We’ve got to disable it. Corsi, it’s all yours.”

Corsi’s lips thinned. Inwardly, Duffy cringed. He liked to avoid Corsi whenever possible, because it seemed to him that whatever he said or did was exactly the wrong thing. She was utterly intent upon the task at hand, and her blue eyes were like ice now. He was very glad he was not the object of such intense concentration.

Corsi fired. And fired again. And again. Red phaser energy shot through space. Despite her fear for those she was charged to protect and her natural passion, she knew what her captain wanted. For some reason, they had been unable to locate the weapons systems—indeed, any specific system—on the vessel. Now that it had fired on them, however, their targets were clear: the two major appendages.