Star Trek_ A Choice of Catastrophes - Michael Schuster [109]
“We can’t use the computer to control them, too dangerous.”
“I suppose we couldn’t toss them out of the shuttlebay?”
“Doctor McCoy, you’re brilliant. A shuttlecraft. It’s a reasonably big mass of duotronic circuitry. And then there’s the matter/antimatter engines.”
“Wouldn’t an explosion that close to the ship be devastating?” asked McCoy.
Sulu shook his head. “Not if we angle the deflectors right. We absorb the blast’s kinetic energy, and then shut everything down before we hit a distortion. The momentum should carry us through the distort-zone.”
Kirk pointed his phaser at the Farrezzi’s head and coldly said, “I can kill you with a single shot. Drop your weapon.”
The slaver hesitated, and in that moment, Giotto threw his phaser at the alien’s eyestalks. As it recoiled, Kirk leapt and grabbed the gun out of its tentacles, aiming it at the Farrezzi.
“Is that all of them?” Kirk breathed a sigh of relief.
“That’s all.”
Kirk called Horr and Neff in, asking Neff to take custody of the last slaver. The captain looked up and saw that the overhead was a transparent cupola. Impressive. The ship was still in orbit above Farrezz on autopilot. Neff marched the slaver off at gunpoint while Horr went to get Chekov and the rest of the sleepers.
Another time, Kirk would have wanted to take his time and explore the command center. As he stood there, he realized his face hurt. He touched it gingerly. There were sharp metal spikes embedded in it. When he pulled one out, it felt like half his cheek came with it. He was not surprised to see it covered in blood.
“Sir,” said Giotto, wearing a worried expression, “are you hurt badly?”
Kirk shook his head. Bad idea. “You know head wounds. Make you bleed like hell.”
“Make you look like hell, too, sir.”
The captain laughed, then immediately winced. “Damn you, Sal, that hurts.”
“Sorry, sir.”
“We need to find Yüksel. You round up the slavers.”
“I hope there’s a brig on this ship,” said Giotto, looking at the unconscious Farrezzi around them.
“I was thinking,” said Kirk, “that we could put them to sleep. Those empty hibernation capsules are waiting to be used.”
Giotto grinned. “Aye, sir. I’ll get some of the freed Farrezzi to help me.”
As Giotto left the room, Kirk looked up and caught sight of something through the transparent cupola.
The second transport.
They had no way of keeping that ship from making off with their cargo.
Not yet.
The two shuttles successfully avoided the ship in orbit—or ships, as it turned out—and took out the weather satellite. Scotty discovered that it had been activated when they removed the other satellite from orbit, evidently in a misguided effort to “compensate” for the missing satellite. There were no other Farrezzi fighters, which Scotty took as a good sign. Spock had tried to raise the captain, but his communicator wasn’t picking up anything.
“I still think you should sleep,” said M’Benga, “now that the immediate crisis is over.”
“I’m needed,” said Scotty, “for when we get to the distortion projector.” He was unable to move, but his mind was still working. “And Mister Spock agrees.”
“It’s against my medical judg—”
“Doctor,” Spock said, “we have arrived at our destination. Mister Scott, you will monitor the situation and provide us with any insight you might have. Doctor M’Benga, you will observe Mister Scott and administer a pain suppressant should it become necessary. Understood?”
Chagrined, the doctor said, “Yes, sir.”
“The device at the center of the reactor network is directly below us,” Spock said, “but it is built into the side of a mountain. There is no adjacent landing area. There is still a strong wind. The shuttles will have to hover above the structure, while the landing party will rappel down.”
“Ensign Seven Deers, Ensign Saloniemi, and Crewman Tra, do you copy?”
“Aye, sir,” came the reply from the Columbus.
Spock made his way aft. “Mister Scott, I have configured a tricorder to let you observe the energy levels. If you discover a danger to the shuttles, take them to a safe distance.” He