Star Trek: The Original Series - 161 - Savage Trade

by Tony Daniel

  “Which leaves us with our second Hradrian ship.”

  “Remaining Hradrian vessel has ceased engagement,” Spock said. “She is holding position with impulse power. It seems—” A blue light flashed at Spock’s station and he gazed down intently at his sensor display. “Captain, indeterminate energy build-up on the Hradrian vessel. It has a similar ion signature to that of a transporter.”

  “A transporter? Mister Spock, that device we took from the L’rah’hane ship—didn’t you and Franklin determine that it had a transporter-like phasing effect?”

  “Affirmative, Captain. The energy levels match.”

  “They have a weaponized version of the device,” Kirk said. “Maximum evasive maneuvers, Mister Sulu!”

  “Aye, sir.”

  The ship lurched as Sulu adjusted his controls to seldom-used extreme positions.

  “Hradrian discharge imminent,” Spock said.

  A shimmer seemed to pass across the field of vision on the viewscreen. For a moment, there was nothing there. Absolutely nothing. The debris field in the background was simply gone. As was the view of the battle.

  A flicker of energy drain passed through the ship and every control went dead.

  “Total sensor fail,” Spock said. “We are flying blind, sir.”

  Then, as quickly as it had gone off, power returned.

  “Sensors and controls have returned, but power levels are depleted,” Spock said.

  “Options, Spock?”

  “Evaluating, sir.”

  Kirk activated the intraship to engineering. “Scotty, what’s going on down there?”

  “Never seen anything like it, Captain. It’s as if the entire ship just . . . reset herself. I’m overriding start-up procedures right and left to get her back up and running as soon possible.”

  “Estimate.”

  “Two to three minutes,” Scott said. Kirk heard a warning buzzer go off in the background. “Need to take care of that, sir.”

  “Bridge out.”

  “We may not have two to three minutes before the next Hradrian discharge,” Spock said. “They are initiating another power buildup.”

  “And they missed last time,” Kirk said. “Spock, what is that weapon?”

  “It seems to be a quantum disruption device,” the science officer said. “The data from the aftershock indicates that gluon energy transfer is neutralized in atomic structures. The weapon, in effect, blows matter apart at the atomic seams.”

  “Defense.”

  “It is fortuitous that Doctor Franklin and myself loaded a complete data set into the ship’s computer before our departure. The computer is running analysis of shield frequencies that may block the effect.”

  “How long will it take?”

  “Unknown, sir,” Spock said. “There are literally billions of possible combinations. Measuring the effect again would allow for more rapid calibration.”

  Which means taking another shot that we probably won’t survive.

  Kirk sat back in his chair. “They have us dead to rights,” he said.

  But it’s not over until it’s over.

  “Continue evasive maneuvers, Mister Sulu.”

  “Two more L’rah’hane pirate vessels reported as defeated, sir,” Uhura said.

  “Well, whether he’s Nelson or not, he’s proving himself to be a hell of a fighter,” said Kirk. He turned and gazed into the screen. “Lock all weapons on that ship, Mister Chekov.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “If nothing else, we’re going to give them a sock to the jaw that they’ll remember.”

  “Hradrian weapon at ninety percent power,” Spock said.

  “Fire all weapons, Mister Chekov.”

  “Firing, sir.”

  “Direct hit on the Hradrian vessel,” Spock reported. “Their shields are down.”

  “But we’ve got nothing else to throw at them at the moment,” Kirk said with a shake of his head.

  “Hradrian weapon fully charged,” Spock said. “They are preparing to activate.”

  A streak of light blasted across the viewscreen.

  The ship-to-ship audio crackled to life.

  “Tally ho!”

  The Hradrian vessel fired. Again the erasing shimmer filled the viewscreen. For a moment it illuminated the lines of the N.E.V. Victory as it sped by.

  He’s calculated it perfectly to absorb the blow, Kirk thought.

  Then there was a brief flash of light, and the absolute blackness from before filled the screen.

  The Victory was simply . . . gone.

  Then the “nothingness” effect ceased, and the nebula’s inner glow returned to the viewscreen.

  “Computer analysis complete. Shield frequencies calibrated,” Spock said. “We should be able to weather another discharge from the device with minimal effects.”

  “He gave us our second shot,” Kirk said. “Mister Chekov, lock phasers on the Hradrian ship power generation and propulsion units. I want to disable her, not destroy her.”

  “Phasers locked. Their shields are still down.”

  “Fire phasers.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  The familiar squeal of the energy discharge filled the bridge.

  “Direct hit,” Spock said. “The Hradrian vessel is incapacitated. She is now operating on minimal auxiliary power.” Then, after a pause, “Captain, feedbacks are building in the Hradrian vessel. They are attempting to self-destruct.”

  “Shields to full,” Kirk said. “Back us out of here, Sulu.”

  “Aye, sir. Full reverse.”

  The Hradrian vessel exploded like a breaking melon. Debris flew in all directions. One piece zoomed past the Enterprise, but it was a near miss by several kilometers.

  “Status report,” Kirk said.

  “Situation nominal, Captain,” said Spock. “No damage from the explosion; however, the incapacitated pirate ships in the region were destroyed by the shrapnel effect of the blast.”

  “Fortunes of war,” Kirk said. “How are our allies doing?”

  “One New Excalbia Navy vessel destroyed by L’rah’hane disruptors, one missing, the Agamemnon. Albemarle and Boreas have disabled the remaining functional L’rah’hane vessel.”

  Any fatigue Kirk felt from the battle immediately left him. “Mister Sulu, take us toward that depot,” he said. “Let’s end this.”

  * * *

  “Amazing,” said Scott and Watt nearly simultaneously.

  The landing party exited the shuttlecraft—there was not enough power for the transporter—on the enormous Hradrian depot structure with phasers drawn and ready for action, only to find no one there.

  There were no L’rah’hane pirates in sight. There was no one at all in sight.

  They had docked in an atmospherically shielded bay that proved to be a loading area outside a vast storage complex. The “roof” was a double-layered atmospheric seal keeping the environment inside the structure at Class-M standards. It stretched on for what seemed kilometers, and upward for hundreds of meters.

  The deck underfoot was metallic with enough crossing wires and raised ducts to cause them all to watch their steps. Otherwise, walking felt normal. Obviously, there were gravitational generators in place somewhere set to one g.

  “Spock?”

  “At first glance, one would presume the Hradrian depot serves as a warehouse for various items the L’rah’hane pirates have acquired during their raids.” Spock turned in a semicircle with his tricorder. “These are storage bins. There are weapons, precious metals, jewels, and a wide range of electronic and computational devices that would take many weeks to classify and catalog.”

  “What Mister Spock means to say is that we have found buried pirate treasure,” McCoy put in.

  “Essentially correct,” Spock said. “It would be a shame to destroy this structure, Captain.”

  “Then we won’t,” Kirk said. “We need to find what we’re really after. Do we have a vector on those life-signs we were picking up?”
<
br />   Spock checked his tricorder. “Bearing two four three point eight.” The Vulcan pointed in the direction.

  A four-man security team had accompanied them. The readings of vast amounts of advanced technological machinery had prompted Kirk to bring Scott. Doctor McCoy was along to attend to the medical needs of any prisoner they might come across. Spock and Chekov rounded out the Enterprise landing party.

  As they were on their way to the hangar deck, Washington-Yarnek and Watt had confronted them in a corridor. Washington-Yarnek stated their case for the Excalbians to join the landing party.

  “We are still missing two of our number—Henry Ford and Sacajawea. We presumed they were killed and spaced by the L’rah’hane. But if they are being held as slaves, it is our duty to search along with you, Captain. Also, Mister Watt might prove useful as an adjunct to Commander Scott if those sensor readings have turned up the technological hoard you and I believe is there.”

  Kirk held Washington’s gaze for a moment.

  He seems genuine enough in making his request, Kirk thought. But then, he’s been created to seem as genuine as possible.

  But it might be helpful if they did find the missing Excalbians.

  “All right,” Kirk said. “We’ll take a shuttlecraft. There’s a landing bay near our target area, I believe.”

  “There is, indeed, Captain,” Spock said.

  Washington-Yarnek and Watt were also added to the landing party. They’d been offered handheld phasers for protection, but Washington-Yarnek refused his, saying, “I will have my primed and ready musket pistol. I am afraid that, in the heat of an exchange, I might point a phaser the wrong way, perhaps back at myself or, worst of all, fumble for the firing button until it is too late.”

  “Point taken,” Kirk answered.

  Kirk had arrayed the security team around the two Excalbians for their protection.

  The life-signs Spock was zeroing in on—via the tricorder—grew stronger. The science officer led them down one alley of pirated items stored on shelves. There were at least ten levels to each of the shelving units, and they did not all match. It was a motley arrangement all around. Kirk began to wonder if there was any reason to the placement of the hoard.

  Weapons sat next to disemboweled viewscreens, which were next over from an assortment of machine parts and under computer components. At the end of each aisle, there was a brief perpendicular space, just big enough for one or two people to move through, then another shelving unit stretched onward until, without tricorder aid, even the most seasoned direction finder would probably be hopelessly lost. If there was order here, Kirk couldn’t see it.

  They located the prisoners on one of those shelves, two up from the floor. They were wrapped in a web-like substance that looked wet, but was actually shiny and hard to the touch.

  They look as if they’d been wrapped for shipment by a giant spider.

  “Alive?” Kirk asked.

  McCoy ran his medical tricorder over the head of one of them. “Barely,” he said. “Jim, these people are in some kind of suspended animation.”

  “They were being prepped for shipping, Captain,” said Chekov. “Look down the aisle, sir.”

  A mechanical cart, that was four meters by two, was approaching them. There was no driver. On its rear was a crane-like appendage. Stacked in a carrying bed in the middle were several pieces of what looked like broken equipment. A maintenance drone?

  “Phasers ready,” Kirk said, and they all turned to face the approaching vehicle.

  It approached them at the speed of a walk, then slowed down abruptly, as if it had just noticed them.

  “This is Orange territory,” said a voice from a small grilled opening in the front of the vehicle. “Your presence is unauthorized.”

  “We are . . . inspectors,” Kirk said. “We hope to make a deal. We are examining the merchandise for our employers.”

  The vehicle/drone took a moment to digest this.

  “A thousand pardons, kind master,” it finally said. “Masters and slaves under direct orders from buyers must not be interfered with when conducting due diligence verification of goods. Please do not disintegrate this unit.”

  “We have no intention of doing so,” Kirk said. “Can you answer a few questions?”

  “This unit is programmed for information exchange only on a limited, utilitarian basis.”

  Kirk nodded. “Where is everybody?”

  “This unit does not understand the inspector’s question.”

  “The crews, the L’rah’hane and others. Your masters. Where are they?”

  “Understood,” said the vehicle. “There are no masters on Haversack.”

  “What is Haversack?”

  “Here is Haversack. All that is here. The surrounding structure. The ground below.”

  “Why are there no masters?”

  “Absolute neutrality is to be maintained between all companies paying the guild price to make use of Haversack. All merchandise must be delivered, warehoused, and retrieved by robotic means.” The vehicle sounded as if it were quoting from a book of regulations.

  “I see,” Kirk said “Answer a question: Why are these biological units here? Why were they not already sold and shipped?”

  “Records indicate that Unit T754D-559-914 and Unit T754D-559-915 arrived via fast-boat transport as pre-shipment samples for prospective buyers of wholesale lots.”

  “Samples?”

  “For prospective buyers.”

  “But the wholesale lots never arrived?”

  “No record of arrival. Escrow period expired. Auction suspended. Bidding disallowed.”

  “What is going to happen to these units?”

  “Unclaimed sample merchandise shall remain in place for sixty-five auction watches and then shall be discarded.”

  “I see,” Kirk said. “That won’t happen here. We’re going to take these two samples with us as testing and verification for the wholesale lot we’re bidding on.”

  “Acknowledged,” the vehicle replied. “Please present credentials for removal of items.”

  Kirk turned to Spock. “I thought this was going too well,” he said.

  “What if we don’t have any credentials?”

  “Those removing merchandise without authorization are subject to immediate termination.”

  Spock pointed upward. Kirk looked up to see round blisters that looked very much like sensors or weapons clusters. “It seems we are being watched and are covered from all angles,” Spock said. “Given L’rah’hane armament, I would judge them to be disruptors.”

  Kirk nodded. He turned back to the warehouse vehicle. “Give us a moment to locate our credentials.”

  “By your command, kind master.”

  Chekov, standing to the side working intently with his tricorder, motioned the captain over. “What is it, Ensign?” Kirk said.

  “The programming on this vehicle is silicon-based and not difficult to access. I believe I have hacked into the logic and memory processors.”

  “Can you provide us with fake identification?”

  “I will try, Captain.” Chekov’s fingers flew across the dials on the tricorder, making adjustments, then he smiled. “Show it your outstretched hand, sir.”

  “You sure?”

  “Ninety-nine percent certain.”

  “All right,” Kirk said. He rolled his eyes upward, pointing out the weapons emplacements to Chekov. “Our lives depend on it.”

  Chekov’s smile immediately became a worried look.

  Have to go for it. Can’t leave those poor souls to get spaced.

  Kirk turned to the vehicle/drone and extended his hand, palm up. “Here are our credentials.”

  A blue light played across Kirk’s palm. There was a momentary pause. The captain moved his other hand to the phaser at his side. Things might get ugly very quickly.

  “Credentials accepted,” said the vehicle.

  Kirk glanced over to see a very relieved Chekov.

  “How may
this technical unit be of service?” said the vehicle/drone.

  Spock leaned over and spoke next to Kirk’s ear. “We could use its help to transport these cocoons back to the shuttlecraft.”

  “We certainly could,” Kirk answered. He turned to McCoy. “Any reason they shouldn’t be transported?”

  McCoy checked his tricorder again. “Should be fine,” he said. “Their metabolism is greatly slowed, but they seem in perfect physical shape thanks to their Excalbian regenerative power. We should be able to revive them fairly quickly once I get them to sickbay.” McCoy shook his head. “I could use some help cutting them free of this packing material.” McCoy nodded toward the vehicle. “Maybe that overgrown forklift knows the best way to do it.”

  Kirk turned back to the warehouse vehicle. “All right, technical unit,” he said. “Load them up and follow me.”

  * * *

  As they stood on the Enterprise bridge gazing at Haversack, the pirate depot, Kirk glanced over to Spock and noticed him staring at the image with something akin to Vulcan frustration. “Captain, this pirate base is a vast treasure house of technology from many unexplored sectors. It would be a fascinating project if I were to remain behind with a security team and catalog it. Even if the pirates return, they do not seem to ever set foot on the depot surface by common agreement. We should in all probability be safe from harm.”

  “I need you here,” Kirk said. “Representative Valek wants us in the Gibraltar system. I’m sure Starfleet will want to send a team back.”

  “Understood, Captain,” Spock replied. “Back to Zeta Gibraltar?”

  “Yes,” Kirk answered with a sigh.

  “Hangar deck to bridge.”

  The captain thumbed the intraship. “Kirk here.”

  “All the Excalbians have been transferred from damaged vessels, sir,” a technician reported. “Deck is sealed and secure.”

  “Very good,” Kirk said. “Bridge out.” He turned toward the viewscreen. “So ends the Excalbian navy,” he mumbled to himself. The garish glow and ship-choking dust of the nebula didn’t seem quite so menacing now. In fact, there was a mist-like beauty to it. “Helm, take us out of here and back to Zeta Gibraltar.”