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Spock flipped his communicator open. “Mister Scott, we are still here. Were we successful?”

“Just a second, Mister Spock,” came the voice of M’Benga. “I’m afraid Mister Scott… One moment.”

While Spock waited, he consulted his tricorder. The tower was blocking exterior scanning.

“Scott here, Commander. The whole thing is shut down.” The engineer’s exuberance was impossible to miss over the comm channel. “The projector is deactivating. All the sensor and shield interference is gone, and so are the distortions in this system.”

“That is welcome news,” Spock said, suppressing the relief he realized he was feeling.

“There is one strange thing, though.”

“Please elaborate.”

“The satellites in the northern hemisphere are gone. I canna find any trace of them. It’s as though they’ve been scooped up by some powerful force.”

Spock was about to reply when his communicator indicated an incoming transmission. “Stand by, Mister Scott.” He switched frequencies, calculating the odds that it was Captain Kirk. “Spock here.”

“Spock! Music to my ears.” It was the captain, and he sounded almost as animated as Scott, which Spock took to be a good sign. “Status.”

“We have successfully eliminated a subspace distortion projector.”

“Succinct. I look forward to your detailed report.” There was a pause. “D’you think that you could come and pick us up? Giotto, Chekov, and I are on a Farrezzi transport ship we captured, and there are some slavers we need help with.”

“The shuttles are damaged, but spaceworthy. We will leave as soon as possible,” Spock said.

“Try contacting the Enterprise again. With the field down, you shouldn’t have any trouble getting through to Sulu. Tell him we need them here.”

“Aye, sir. We will contact you when we are in position to board the Farrezzi ship.”

“Good work, Mister Spock. Kirk out.”

Four Hours Later

Stardate 4758.5 (1302 hours)

“You took your time, Mister Spock,” Kirk said as he stepped onto the Hofstadter. The shuttle looked a little the worse for wear.

Spock looked up briefly from the shuttlecraft’s controls and raised an eyebrow. The Hofstadter was sitting in the loading bay of the captive transport ship. The shuttle had dropped Giotto, Kologwe, and Tra on the other transport to round up the slavers and wake the sleepers. Neither ship was in any condition to land now, but Scotty and Seven Deers were confident that they could fix the vessels.

“Captain,” Doctor M’Benga called from the stern of the shuttle. Kirk saw he was standing in front of a cryopod.

Yüksel. The exobotanist was floating in water, wires and tubes running from the rim of the large pod into his skin. His expression was frozen in agony as he bobbed up and down gently—a disconcerting sight.

Kirk turned M’Benga. “Doctor?”

M’Benga wore a somber expression. “The cryopod is designed to sustain a Farrezzi. It’s slowly killing him.”

“Can we get him out of there?” Kirk asked.

“I don’t want to risk it without the facilities of the Enterprise’s sickbay.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Kirk said. Would the ship arrive in time? “Mister Spock?”

“I have the Enterprise on standby, Captain,” Spock reported. “The spatial distortions are closing now that the projector has been disabled.”

“Good work, Mister Spock.” Kirk crossed to the navigator’s seat and sat down. “Kirk to Enterprise.”

“Enterprise here. Captain, this is Lieutenant Kelowitz.”

“Lieutenant Kelowitz,” said Kirk, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice, “what are you doing in command?” Rogelio Kelowitz was in tactical.

Kelowitz sounded haggard. “Sir, I’m relieving Mister Sulu. The bridge is damaged.”

Spock had estimated that the distortions were sizable, but—“Will you make it to Mu Arigulon?” Kirk asked.

“Aye, sir,” Kelowitz said, “Probably another three hours of repair work, and then we’ll be two days out. Is it safe to proceed?”

“The spatial distortions have cleared almost entirely, Lieutenant,” Spock replied. “Passage will be completely normal.”

Kirk contented himself with, “We’ll see you then, Mister Kelowitz.”

“Aye, sir. We’ll keep you updated on our progress.