Mouth set, she acknowledged the change of command. "Yes, sir." sir." There was more she wanted to say, much more, but there was no time. There never seemed to be enough time. There was more she wanted to say, much more, but there was no time. There never seemed to be enough time.
Then he was gone, the lift doors closing behind him.
The Enterprise Enterprise was not the only ship in the vicinity that was suffering convulsions, but in the case of the was not the only ship in the vicinity that was suffering convulsions, but in the case of the Narada Narada they were of the atmospheric rather than emotional variety. Hovering at a lower altitude, even the enormous bulk of the Romulan warship was being buffeted by repeated concussions from below. His expression and attitude one of alarm, her chief science officer conferred with the ship's second-in-command until Ayel broke off the conversation and moved quickly toward the command chair. While less panicked than that of the science officer, his own expression was fully reflective of his cohort's rising concern. they were of the atmospheric rather than emotional variety. Hovering at a lower altitude, even the enormous bulk of the Romulan warship was being buffeted by repeated concussions from below. His expression and attitude one of alarm, her chief science officer conferred with the ship's second-in-command until Ayel broke off the conversation and moved quickly toward the command chair. While less panicked than that of the science officer, his own expression was fully reflective of his cohort's rising concern.
"We must withdraw! The drilling has left us too close. If we remain in this orbit we risk being drawn into the expanding singularity."
Nero nodded absently. While he was thoroughly engrossed in monitoring the destruction of the hated world below, that did not mean he wished to share its fate. Romulus too had its version of the Pyrrhic victory. He had no intention of adding to that particular lore.
The officer in charge of tactical spoke up. "What of the Enterprise Enterprise? Their present orbit is borderline relative to the projected singularity."
"Leave it," Nero replied curtly. He looked to his left. "Retract the drill and fall back. Set course for our next target. Our work here is done." Settling himself in the command chair, he leaned forward to rest his chin against one hand.
"The rest of our work has just begun."
XI
neither man was prepared when the drill platform lurched sharply and unexpectedly upward. Leaning over the side of the disk as they studied the planetary surface, they were completely engrossed in the catastrophe that continued to escalate below them. Knocked sideways, Kirk managed to keep his balance. As he steadied himself, he looked in his companion's direction. There was the briefest instant of eye contact.
Then the helmsman was gone over the side.
"SULU!"
If Kirk had thought about it, he might have acted differently. Instead, he simply reacted. Crew-in danger-death. Without hesitating, he leaped after the rapidly plummeting helmsman.
Sulu's training had been no less thorough than Kirk's. Though extinction was rushing toward him at well over a hundred kilometers an hour, his task as a trained crewman and as a human being was to postpone that apparent inevitability for as long as possible. Spreading his arms and legs wide and keeping parallel to the ground, he did what little he could to slow his plunge as much as possible.
Above him, Kirk was doing exactly the opposite. Legs held together, face forward into the shrieking wind, and hands pressed to his sides, he dropped like a stone. Even as he closed on the helmsman, he knew he would have only one shot at what he was going to try. Streak past Sulu and it was unlikely they would have enough time to try the midair maneuver again.
Left arm out slightly to adjust his angle of descent, head up and chest out to slow as much as possible-wham! It was not a gentle rendezvous, but Sulu did not complain. With his arms locked around the helmsman, Kirk screamed into the other man's face. It was not a gentle rendezvous, but Sulu did not complain. With his arms locked around the helmsman, Kirk screamed into the other man's face.
"I GOTCHA-PULL MY CHUTE!"
Nodding vigorously to show that he had heard and understood, his left arm wrapped around Kirk's waist, Sulu reached down and fumbled until his fingers made contact with the requisite control. A firm touch was all it took to cause Kirk's chute to snap out of its container. Billowing, it expanded above, jerking them to a momentary halt.
Momentary, because an instant later their combined weight coupled with the inertia acquired during their plunge proved too much for the chute to handle. While the fabric remained largely intact, the cords that connected it to Kirk's suit, already stressed from the demand that had been put on them by the space drop, snapped. Direction, velocity, and plunging toward imminent death resumed straightaway.
At least, Sulu thought, Sulu thought, I won't die alone. I won't die alone. Better if Kirk had let him go. Better if Kirk had let him go.
Too busy for philosophical reflection, Kirk was yelling into his suit's pickup. "Enterprise, "Enterprise, we're falling without a chute! Beam us up or we're dead!" we're falling without a chute! Beam us up or we're dead!"
On board the Enterprise, Enterprise, his cry resounded over the newly restored communications. Springing to another console, Chekov let his fingers fly over the instrumentation. He had done this sort of thing dozens, hundreds of times previously-in simulations. As he worked frantically he was shouting toward the console communicator. his cry resounded over the newly restored communications. Springing to another console, Chekov let his fingers fly over the instrumentation. He had done this sort of thing dozens, hundreds of times previously-in simulations. As he worked frantically he was shouting toward the console communicator.
"Transporter room, come in! This is Ensign Chekov on the bridge. Emergency command override, transfer full control to the forward console!"
At her station Uhura was also hurriedly requesting, manipulating, and entering information. "Preparing intercept coordinates-stand by for transfer!"
The officer who had assumed the responsibilities of the science station when Spock had departed now looked up anxiously. "The singularity's expanding. We won't reach minimum safe distance if we don't leave leave!"
"SHUT UP!" Uhura and Chekov responded simultaneously. Their reaction was not regulation, but it had the desired effect. Grim-faced, the replacement science officer turned back to his console. Sweat was beginning to stream down his face as he confronted numbers that implacably recognized an escalating sequence of physical events that were no less lethal for their mounting improbability.
At the forward transporter console an increasingly fretful Chekov was desperately manipulating the manual targeting control. It was not quite like doing it during a simulation. For one thing, there was no one to back him up. For another, knowing that real lives were at stake instead of career points was having a deleterious effect on his blood pressure.
"I can't get a target lock on their pattern signatures! They're falling too fast!"
Far below, Kirk noted with interest that they had now dropped farther than the peak of a nearby mountain. He chose this method of estimating their present position because the alternative would have been to look groundward. This he preferred not to do, having decided that when the impact came he would rather it arrive unexpectedly.
"Enterprise, now, now, now!" now, now, now!"
"Boost the waveform on the gain stream!" Uhura was shouting. "I need more signal in order to lock!"
"Trying!" Chekov yelled back. An instant later, "Got 'em-toopik!" His free hand slammed down on a large control disk.
On the other side of the bridge one junior officer frowned at another. "Did he just say 'toothpick'?"
His companion ran a terrestrial language quick-check through his own console, then glanced up. "Russian's his ancestral language. Toopik Toopik-it means 'dead end.'"
His expression one of deep concern, the other officer looked in the tactical officer's direction. "I hope he meant that in a good good way." way."
In the Enterprise' Enterprise's main transporter room, several technicians glanced up apprehensively from the consoles and instruments they were monitoring. The sensitive curved chamber before them still stood empty. According to their readouts, entanglement had been successful. Far below the ship, two falling bodies supposedly had vanished. If that information was accurate, then their exact duplicates ought to be...
It was not a neat rematerialization. Not at all regulation, no. Instead of arriving in upright stances, faces forward, hands behind back, the two bodies slammed into the deck with considerable force.
But not, if the pained grunts that issued from each man were to be believed, lethal force.
Though the tech crew was stunned by the manner of arrival, they were not nearly as stunned as the two officers. Both men slowly peeled themselves off the transporter deck. Holding himself, Sulu blinked in Kirk's direction.
"Th-thanks."
"Uh-huh," his colleague replied weakly. Starting at his head and working his way downward, Kirk checked himself, not overlooking a single bone. By the time his examining fingers had traveled as far as his thighs he was becoming convinced he had somehow made it intact. "I swear we were so close I could smell the dirt."
Sulu was formulating a reply when the transporter room portal parted to admit the ship's science officer. Kirk gaped as the Vulcan strode purposefully past him, turned, and positioned himself for departure.
"Step-or roll-aside. I'm going to the surface." Without waiting to see if the men on the floor were complying, Spock addressed himself to the transporter's chief engineer. "You should already have received coordinates for a specific disaster shelter located near the city of Shi'Kahr. While physical design constraints prevent putting me down inside, get me as close to the entrance as you can."
"I'll do my best, sir." The transporter chief bent to work.
Drawing himself into an upright position as he staggered away from the transporter platform, Kirk could only gape at the self-possessed figure standing in the exact center of one of the modules.
"The surface of what what? You're going down down there? Are you there? Are you nuts nuts?"
As was his wont, the science officer was not prone to acknowledging rhetorical questions. His attention remained focused on the transporter engineer.
"Energize."
In an instant he was gone, leaving in his wake a grim team of transporter techs, an exhausted and seriously woozy helmsman, and one disbelieving junior officer.
Spock nearly lost his balance and fell as he rematerialized on the surface of his homeworld. It was not he who was unstable but the ground underfoot. While they varied considerably in strength, the quakes that were shaking the surface to pieces were continuous now. Floating atop the planet's upper mantle, the continents were temporarily buffered from the complete destruction that had commenced farther below.
The transporter team had fulfilled its instructions with precision. Directly in front of him the entrance to the shelter beckoned. Running lightly to keep his feet, avoiding chunks of collapsing construction material and stone, he raced toward the opening.
Deep within the sanctuary as their world crumbled around them, six sets of hands rested on the katric katric ark. Vulcan's single most sacred object, it purportedly held the ark. Vulcan's single most sacred object, it purportedly held the katra katra or soul of the ancient known as Surak. Together with its contents, the ark represented all that was good and noble and revered in the humanoid species that called the desert planet home. Linked together by mind-meld as they sought to shut out the chaos rising in intensity around them, the six Elders chanted softly among themselves. Among them was Amanda Grayson's husband. Though she could not by herself join the collective mind-meld, it was important to Sarek that she was present. or soul of the ancient known as Surak. Together with its contents, the ark represented all that was good and noble and revered in the humanoid species that called the desert planet home. Linked together by mind-meld as they sought to shut out the chaos rising in intensity around them, the six Elders chanted softly among themselves. Among them was Amanda Grayson's husband. Though she could not by herself join the collective mind-meld, it was important to Sarek that she was present.
She was more than a little startled when her son burst out of the entryway, glanced around once, and came quickly toward her.
"Mother, the planet is not safe. A singularity has been ignited in the core. There may be only seconds left." Tilting back his head, he allowed himself a last sweeping look at the sanctuary. It would need to be remembered in something other than recordings. It would need to be remembered in the mind of someone who knew it from life-and remembered in the heart. "We must evacuate this shelter immediately. Nothing is going to remain. Nothing."
Looking up at him and meeting his gaze, she nodded. She did not understand him completely, but she trusted him completely. "Go and tell your father and the others."
He knew they would be reluctant to leave. A comparable group of humans charged with similar spiritual duties would have been adamant in their desire to remain, to perish with their relics and their sanctuary. It was possible that the Elders felt similarly, but the decisions of Vulcan Elders are not made on the basis of how they happen to feel. A runaway singularity would destroy their planet. It must not be allowed to destroy their civilization. Removing the ark from its pedestal, they carried it between them as they rushed to abandon the collapsing sanctuary.
They had barely emerged into the open when they were greeted by a sight none could have envisioned in their wildest dreams or worst nightmares. In all directions, as far as any of them could see, mountains and bluffs and ridges and desert were breaking apart and falling inward. Vulcan was folding in upon itself.
Spock knew that paralysis, whether mental or physical, was not a luxury he could afford. Whipping out his communicator he spoke into the open channel.
"Spock to Enterprise. Enterprise. Emergency transport for seven additional in my immediate vicinity together with large object they are carrying- Emergency transport for seven additional in my immediate vicinity together with large object they are carrying-now."
On the bridge of the orbiting starship Chekov strained to simultaneously and accurately lock in a transport room full of strangers along with their cargo. He needed more time. On the other side of the bridge a junior helmsman was staring fixedly at his instrumentation.
"Thirty seconds before we must leave must leave-or we never will."
"Locking signatures," Chekov announced. Chekov announced. "Transport in five, four, three..." "Transport in five, four, three..."
As her world-their world-crumbled around them, Amanda Grayson looked at her son and almost smiled.
"It's okay," she told him quietly, "to be scared."
Behind the assembled Elders the wall of the sanctuary ripped free from the stabilizing pylons that had been driven into solid rock. The latter had become an oxymoron: there no longer was any solid rock on Vulcan. It was all crumbling, contracting, collapsing in upon itself. As the first stages of transport coalesced around them and they began to dematerialize, the ground beneath Amanda Grayson's feet vanished and she began to fall, to drop away. A few meters was all that separated her from the last transporter signature lock-all that separated her from her son.
"MOTHER!"
The eight vanished, their signatures to reappear elsewhere. Seven rematerialized on board the Starship Enterprise. Starship Enterprise. The eighth... The eighth...
The eighth had become one with the compacted body of Vulcan.
In the main transporter bay technicians worked furiously to finalize the progression. Seven shapes began to take form. One of them emerged in an awkward, ungainly position, body bent forward with an arm extended as if reaching for something. Sarek and the other Elders gazed around them and took stock of their new surroundings. Only Spock continued to stare into the distance, searching for something that was not there. A moment ago she had been barely an arm's length away, directly in front of him. Now-she was gone. Forever. There was no Restore Restore control for a human being. control for a human being.
On the bridge an agonized Chekov spun around to bellow at the acting helmsman. He had tried, desperately, to bring eight signatures on board. "Transport complete!" "Transport complete!"
He knew he had managed only seven.
It was the report the junior officer had been waiting to hear. Without pausing for confirmation-there was no more time time for confirmation, or anything else-he swept a hand over glowing controls. for confirmation, or anything else-he swept a hand over glowing controls.
"Maximum warp-engaging emergency power!" Engineering would scream in protest at that, he knew. He was not worried. At least they would be able to scream.
As the starship bolted in the general direction of the center of the Milky Way, its rear-facing sensors recorded a disruption that was insignificant on the galactic scale but terrifying in human terms. Soundlessly, crumpling in upon itself like a candy wrapper in a child's hand, Vulcan imploded. Deserts, atmosphere, oceans-all the familiar geological features that combined to give the surface of a world its character-vanished, along with cities and infrastructure and the people who had built them. In their place a brief blaze of intense light lingered on the retinas of those looking on-the last glow of the planet's molten core. Then it, too, was gone. Only a very small black hole remained at the interstellar coordinates where once a high civilization had thrived. Despite having swallowed an entire world, the perpetrator was visible only to those astronomical instruments capable of recording its occultation of a few background stars.
The incredible gravitational strength of the indiscernible monster that was the singularity reached out in all directions. It licked at the fleeing Enterprise, Enterprise, but the range of its all-consuming grasp extended only to a zone from which the starship had already fled. Behind lay the rest of the Vulcan system-and memories of a world that was no more. but the range of its all-consuming grasp extended only to a zone from which the starship had already fled. Behind lay the rest of the Vulcan system-and memories of a world that was no more.
While the other Elders murmured among themselves, father and son embraced. From the expression on their faces, it was impossible to tell what Sarek and Spock were thinking. Impossible to tell, but easy enough to imagine.
Kirk found himself moving toward them. One small part of Academy training dealt with the ways in which a senior officer could personally comfort family members on the loss of a loved one in battle or on general duty. There was nothing in the manuals that he could recall that dealt with how to console survivors on the loss of their entire world. Spock had just lost both. In lieu of precedent, Kirk spoke as he would have if he had been trying to comfort a neighbor back in Iowa.
"Spock-I'm sorry."
The ship's chief science officer did not respond. Perhaps, Kirk thought, he was finding comfort in his own thoughts. Or more likely, in the Vulcan way of responding to tragedy-by retreating into logic. Spock's first comment on being brought back aboard more or less confirmed Kirk's supposition as the science officer removed his recorder and spoke into it.
"Acting captain's log, stardate twenty-two fifty-eight-point forty-three. In the absence of Captain Christopher Pike, and pursuant to the relevant Starfleet regulations, I have assumed command of the Enterprise. Enterprise. We've received no word from Captain Pike since he was taken aboard the atypical Romulan vessel known as the We've received no word from Captain Pike since he was taken aboard the atypical Romulan vessel known as the Narada. Narada. I have therefore classified him as a hostage of the war criminal known as Nero. I have therefore classified him as a hostage of the war criminal known as Nero.
"Based on readings taken as the enemy vessel departed and in consultation with the Enterprise' Enterprise's computational facilities, it is hypothesized that its next destination may be the Sol system-and, presumably, Earth. Further updates will be forthcoming as new information becomes available."
Clicking off the recorder, he stepped down from the transporter platform. He did not look in Kirk's direction as he departed, nor did Kirk try to intercept him.
For one of the very few times in his life, the younger officer could think of nothing to say.
Every sickbay including medical central was full to overflowing. In addition to the Elders a number of other citizens of Vulcan had managed to survive the catastrophe that had eradicated their homeworld. Most had been working in bases on T'Khul, the Vulcan system's third world, and had been beamed aboard the Enterprise Enterprise subsequent to Vulcan's destruction. Bewildered and ignorant of the details that had orphaned them, many were traumatized in ways that humans could not understand. It was left to the Elders to mind-meld where possible and see to their treatment with appropriate medications when mind-to-mind contact proved insufficient. subsequent to Vulcan's destruction. Bewildered and ignorant of the details that had orphaned them, many were traumatized in ways that humans could not understand. It was left to the Elders to mind-meld where possible and see to their treatment with appropriate medications when mind-to-mind contact proved insufficient.