Crisis of Consciousness

by Dave Galanter

  “Sir, I think these ships are powerful, but an amalgam of a lot of different technologies.”

  That makes sense, Kirk thought. “The Kenisians weren’t allowing the Sahntiek their own technology. Maybe this was their answer.”

  “We’re being scanned,” the ensign reported.

  A conquering race would be comforted by what they found. Enterprise had been battered. While she was on the mend, sensors would probably reveal her degraded state.

  Uhura half turned toward the command chair, left hand holding her earpiece. “Captain, we’re being hailed.”

  Finally, they’re breaking their silence, Kirk thought. “Put them on.”

  On the viewscreen, the image of the vessels was replaced by a single, craggy visage. This wasn’t an alien Starfleet had encountered before. Sharp features cut a thick brow but a weak jaw, all edged in a fuzz of short hair. If the Klingons ever designed a stuffed toy, it might look like this.

  “For what reason do you transgress our space?”

  “I’m Captain James T. Kirk, commanding the Federation Starship Enterprise. We mean no transgression, but seek the leaders of the Sahntiek on a matter of urgent concern.”

  The alien on the screen turned to someone out of frame and guffawed. Heartily. “The Sahntiek?” He laughed so hard it became a cough that collapsed in a harsh chuckle as he slowly regained his composure.

  Kirk glanced at Scott, who shrugged. Neither knew what was so funny.

  “Debarr, he wants to talk to the Sahntiek,” the alien commander said to his offscreen comrade, and both laughed.

  Annoyed, and knowing that time was short, the captain said, “I take it you’re not the Sahntiek.”

  Choking over his own mirth-filled throat, the alien calmed himself down. “Ah-hahaha, no, we are most certainly not. I am Admiral Rueft Martish of the Grepund Confederacy. The Sahntiek left this system of their own accord.”

  Kirk had never heard of the Grepund Confederacy. “When was that?”

  Martish turned again to Debarr. “When did we arrive in this system?” He laughed some more, and then, without hearing an answer, addressed Kirk again. “Ah, I remember now. They pleaded with us not to force them from their homes, but they had no fleet. Some wonderful cargo vessels which we graciously allowed them to use to remove themselves from our new system.”

  “After our third attack,” someone added from the Grepund bridge. Probably Debarr.

  Kirk nodded. “I see.” This was a dead end. They were wasting their time, and by now Spock should have made the Kenisians ready for the Enterprise to intercept them. It was time to leave.

  “What is your matter of urgent importance, Federation Starship Enterprise Captain James T. Kirk? Do you wish to challenge us and avenge your friends, the Sahntiek?” There seemed to be another roll of laughter ready to erupt, but Martish held himself back.

  “No,” Kirk said drily. “Thank you. We’ll leave.”

  Another guffaw, and Martish shook his head. “I don’t think so. Not yet, anyway.” He gestured and Enterprise’s deflectors flashed.

  “Tractor beam,” Scott said. “Right through our shields.”

  Strong beam. How the captain reacted was very important. That the Grepund were easily amused didn’t mean they should be taken lightly.

  Standing, Kirk tapped on the back of Sulu’s chair. “All stop,” he whispered. There was no sense taxing the engines or the structural integrity fields. Loudly, but without anger or fear, the captain faced the viewscreen. “We are not friends of the Sahntiek, nor are we enemies of yours. And that is to your benefit.”

  “Is it?” Martish said, a cruel smile twisting his lips. “We like to decide for ourselves what benefits us.”

  “Release my ship,” Kirk said.

  “But I like your ship,” the Grepund admiral said. “You have an interesting engine design. We want to study it.”

  “Something can be arranged.” Kirk smiled this time, and not in a friendly way. “We have many examples we could show you.”

  Martish sneered at that threat. “Debarr?”

  “Captain,” Uhura said, “long-range communications are being jammed.”

  Kirk nodded. The Grepund didn’t want to risk having to contend with a larger force. They didn’t know how many Federation ships were in the area.

  “Thank you, Lieutenant.” The captain nodded. “They just don’t want us calling for reinforcements. They also don’t understand what happens if we’re not heard from. I don’t blame them.”

  “You don’t? That’s a relief,” Martish said. The admiral wasn’t buying what Kirk was trying to sell.

  Fair enough. Kirk turned his back to the screen and made a slashing motion for Uhura to cut the communication.

  “Mister Scott.” The captain went to the rail by the engineering station. “How strong is that tractor beam?”

  “Less than ours. But you heard Jolma. They’re not interested in towing, they’re interested in tearin’. And with our damage, it might not be that hard to do.”

  Kirk wondered, Why rip apart the Enterprise? He didn’t doubt that the Grepund used the strategy to instill fear for strategic purposes.

  “Admiral Martish is hailing, sir.”

  With a smile, Kirk told Uhura, “I’m busy.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “THEY CONTINUE to refuse,” Debarr said.

  “I can see that,” Martish grumbled. “You’re certain of your scans? No armor at all?”

  “Did I question your support when I was admiral?” Debarr spat. “Trust me to my tasks.” Martish should never have been allowed his turn in command. Who’d ever heard of such a ridiculous arrangement? A leader should be determined by skill, not by riches or votes.

  “You had me scrubbing plasma conduits,” the admiral barked as he took a swig from his flask. “Who could foul that up?”

  “Somehow you managed it,” Debarr mumbled. Becoming Admiral Drunkard’s lieutenant wasn’t the most humiliating part. Because the buffoon had stumbled upon the defenseless Sahntiek, he’d gotten the majority of the planetary rights. It would be difficult for Debarr to regain command under this arrangement. He couldn’t complain. A similar find had allowed him to take control of their group. Of course, he was better at it.

  “Scan them again,” Martish ordered. “Make sure it’s worth our effort.”

  Debarr shrugged and poked halfheartedly at the console. “What I need is their control components. I tire of this hybrid mess. We replace so many parts with dissimilar technology that I am not even sure if anything of the original is left.”

  “We don’t want them for replacement parts,” Martish snorted. “We want parts someone else will pay for.” He grinned. “Or their Federation will pay to get back.”

  “Sure.” The lieutenant was noncommittal. He needed parts more than the small share of a profit they might or might not be able to obtain.

  As he ran the scan, Debarr wondered if Martish saw himself commanding their small fleet from the bridge of Kirk’s ship. Probably. That would be a sight. He would never fit in that command chair.

  “There would be very few ships able to match us, if we had that vessel,” the admiral snickered. “Especially that slimy big-eared lout who cheated us out of half our last bounty.”

  “You made the deal with him,” the lieutenant reminded Martish. “He just held you to it.”

  “Don’t defend him, Debarr,” the admiral ordered. “Give me what I asked.”

  Reviewing the data that filled his screen, he did as Martish asked. “Same scan as before, Rueft. Mass of fourteen edars. Overall length, seven parps. Highly energized shielding array, deflector type, but no armor, as I said. Conventional phased particle weapon banks, six forward torpedo tubes and one aft torpedo launcher. Matter/antimatter dilithium warp engine configuration.” He turned back and asked, “Do you still want it?”

  The admiral took another drink and wiped his mouth with a dingy sleeve. “Oh, very much so.”

  “I DOUBT he wants to t
ear this ship apart,” Kirk said, moving around the rail and up toward Scott. “He wants it intact.”

  “Who are they?” Jolma asked.

  “They look like scavengers or pirates,” Sulu offered. “Find a system you like? Take it if you can. See a ship you want? Take that too.”

  The captain agreed. “The Sahntiek couldn’t stop them—they’d been kept hamstrung by the Kenisians for centuries. Easy prey.” Kirk wagged a finger at his helmsman. “Pirates.” He pivoted toward the science station. “Jolma?”

  “Sir?”

  “Scan for life-signs. How many people are aboard those ships?”

  The ensign stood and leaned over the sensor cowl. “Scanning. Twenty-three on the first ship, sir. Twenty-seven on the second, and twenty-five on the third.”

  “Seventy-five?” Scott scoffed. “Across three ships? They’d have to be heavily automated.”

  “You know what pirates don’t like?” Kirk rubbed his fingers with his thumb. “Sharing their booty.”

  Returning to the command chair, the captain nodded to his engineer. “Tractor beam, Mister Scott. They’ve got hold of us? Let’s hold on to them.”

  Enterprise reached out and grabbed the lead Grepund ship. A warble shuddered through the warp engines.

  “Aye,” Scott said. “Power fluctuations. We’re both going to have trouble maintaining a lock.”

  “That’s the idea.” Kirk wouldn’t take a hail from Martish now even if it came with flowers.

  Whatever the reaction on the admiral’s bridge, there was probably a lot less laughter.

  “The other ships are peeling away, sir,” Jolma reported. “Weapons still hot.”

  Inching forward, the captain knew what he did next was going to cause damage to his own ship. It couldn’t be avoided. If the Kenisian ship arrived, and the Grepund somehow managed to end up scavenging the na’hubis, that would be a new level of disaster. “Sulu, starboard, one-quarter impulse.”

  “One-quarter, aye.” The helmsman tapped lightly at the controls, and Enterprise pulled their captor with them.

  The ship creaked around them. Stresses were building, but it would be the same for Martish’s vessel.

  “Let’s dance,” Kirk said, with the smallest of smirks. “Sulu, increase speed to one-half. Alter course on the Z-radius at plus-five degrees. Scotty, pull us closer to one another.”

  As Enterprise twisted, the Grepund ship was dragged along. The rolling target would be difficult for her sister ships to fire upon, especially as they drew closer to one another. At least not without hitting one of their own.

  “Stress points are building, Captain,” Scott called out. His wrist still splinted, the engineer ran his board one-handed, but expertly. “We’re going to twist something off ourselves or them.”

  Kirk hoped they had the same concern on the pirate ship. “Right now, I’m betting we’re taxing their automation. It can’t hold on forever.”

  “Aye, sir,” Scott said. “But we’ve got a tiger by the tail. If either side lets go, we’re likely to ram each other.”

  Good point. The captain rubbed his chin and wondered if they could reverse course fast enough to avoid a crash. “What about adding some torque to the tractor beam?”

  “Hmm.” The engineer considered it a moment. “Aye, it might work at that.” He glanced up at the overhead as another shudder groaned across the bridge. “If they break their beam, ours will twist them out of the way.”

  “Do it,” Kirk ordered. It didn’t hurt that the added rotation would put more stress on the Grepund ship. Unfortunately, it was putting more on Enterprise as well.

  “Why don’t the other ships do something?” Jolma asked.

  The captain glanced up at him. “Piracy, Ensign. If we defeat Martish, they’ll clean up the pieces and their share goes from one-third to one-half.”

  It appeared that the Grepund ship remained stationary, but the viewscreen showed the starscape twisted around it. Occasionally one of the other pirate vessels would spin into and out of view.

  “Captain, they’re hailing again. Urgently requesting contact,” Uhura said, a bemused tone coloring her voice.

  “On screen, Lieutenant.”

  Martish appeared. His bridge looked hazier than before. Somewhere, Kirk thought, several consoles had probably overloaded and spread smoke. It looked like their fans had pulled most of it out, but a lot remained.

  “What do you want, Kirk?”

  The captain placed a hand on his chest. “What do I want? I wanted to leave.”

  “Release your tractor,” Martish demanded, his voice coarse from the smoke.

  “You first.”

  “We must shut down our beams simultaneously or we’ll collide,” the admiral explained.

  “Yes. I’m aware of the physics,” Kirk said coolly.

  “Then will you?”

  The captain leaned back in his chair as nonchalantly as possible, given the audible strain on his ship. “Are you going to stand down and leave us to go on our way?”

  “What is so urgent?” Martish demanded. “What did you think you’d find here?”

  As churlish as the so-called admiral was, he wasn’t an idiot. Whether he’d heard of Starfleet or not, he knew an official ship from a large government when he saw one. The Enterprise wasn’t just salvage Martish wanted. Now he was curious.

  That the captain didn’t need.

  “I thought I’d find the Sahntiek. I didn’t. I’d rather not have to deal with you, but if I must . . .” The captain leaned forward, clenching his jaw. “That’s your mistake to make.”

  For whatever reason, Martish broke off communications. Maybe Kirk’s attempt at intimidation had worked.

  When the bridge shook around them, the captain knew it hadn’t.

  “They’re trying to knock out our tractor emitter,” Jolma said.

  “Shields are holding,” Scott reported. “Reinforcing.”

  “He’s not as clever as I thought,” Kirk told the engineer. “Prepare to shut down tractor beam.” He turned to the helm. “Set course two-one-one mark eight and stand by.”

  “Course set,” Chekov said.

  “On my mark.” The captain ordered, “Drop tractor and full impulse, now.”

  Bulkheads trembling, Enterprise groaned and her engines whined. The Grepund ship sped past them closely, crackling its shields against hers.

  “Martish’s ship is having attitude problems.” Sulu peered into his tactical viewer. “They’re spinning out of control.”

  “Alter course again,” Kirk ordered. “Keep out of their tractor range.”

  As the Enterprise maneuvered, the captain knew he had to keep them from being grabbed again. She couldn’t take the strain. He also couldn’t warp away to the Kenisian ship and bring the Grepund into that situation.

  Kirk had to deal with Martish quickly and with finality. He spun toward the science station. “We need to disable those ships.”

  “Aye, sir.” Jolma took that as his cue to review the sensor data on the Grepund vessels. “The lead ship—the admiral’s—is the most heavily armored. The other two have more limited protection.”

  Kirk swiveled back toward the helm. “Those are our targets. Let’s thin the herd.”

  “Aye, aye, sir,” Sulu and Chekov said in unison.

  As Enterprise bore down on the first of the two weaker Grepund ships, the captain’s shoulders tightened with anticipation. “Increase power to the forward shields.”

  “Aye, sir.” Scott jabbed at his console and motioned to the crewman at the secondary engineering station to continue the transfer.

  Kirk tightly gripped the arms of the command chair. “Fire.”

  Enterprise sent blue bars of energy crashing against the pirate’s massive hull.

  In return, the enemy ship’s disruptors crashed into the Enterprise’s port nacelle. The impact reverberated across the ship.

  From the corner of his eye, Kirk saw Jolma straighten from his scanner. The captain turned and moved to
ward the rail between the command well and the science station. “Ensign?”

  “His friend is coming around for a pass. Bearing three-zero-four mark twenty.”

  Chekov snapped a few of his controls. “Confirmed, sir. I have them.”

  “Torpedoes, full spread.”

  Hot globes of energy spat forward, slamming into both Grepund vessels, covering them in chemical flame.

  Both ships were staggered for a moment, but gathered themselves and sped toward Enterprise. “Evasive,” Kirk ordered.

  Sulu and Chekov raced through a series of maneuvers, twisting the ship on one axis, then another.

  In unison, the two enemy ships fired a volley of torpedoes. Three glancing blows shot past them. One made contact, sizzling against the shields.

  “ ‘Evasive’ means to evade, gentlemen,” the captain said, returning to the center seat.

  “They’re trying to box us in, sir,” Sulu said, exasperated. Despite their size, the Grepund ships were more maneuverable than they seemed.

  Another rumble through the deck plates—they’d been struck again by the enemy’s disruptors.

  If the pirate ships were heavily automated, it meant their engines weren’t well tended. That would be where they were most vulnerable. “Target the nearest one’s engines,” Kirk ordered. “Full phasers.”

  “Target locked,” Sulu said.

  “Fire!”

  Enterprise sliced toward port, ripping phasers into the enemy’s port side. First it broke through their shields, then into the nacelle.

  A massive explosion rumbled outward, surging into the shields.

  Kirk gripped the arm of his command chair. “Brace!”

  A bubble of energy rammed into them. Sparks cascaded from an overhead panel. Uhura reached under her console for an extinguisher to put out the fire.

  “Shields down sixty percent,” Scotty called.

  The captain held himself in the command chair as the bridge continued to rumble around them. He hadn’t expected the Grepund ship to explode. The resulting shockwave was impossible to avoid.

  “Helm’s sluggish,” Sulu said.

  Jolma’s voice was surprisingly calm. “One Grepund ship destroyed. Martish’s ship is coming about. The other one is pulling back, looks like it’s limping home.”