Star Trek: The Original Series: The Shocks of Adversity (14 page)

At first glance, Frank’s comparison between his
discovery and the Gamma 7A organism appeared overstated. As the ensign had said, the
object was twice the size of a
Constitution
-class ship, nowhere near the size of the other creature. And though smaller, it registered
as a complex multicellular construct rather than a single-celled life-form. However,
Frank was absolutely correct in noting the similarities between the biochemical signature
and the genetic data Spock had collected during his probe of the Gamma 7A life-form.

“Fascinating,” Spock said, as he pulled back from the scanner display. “I believe
you are correct; this is a heretofore undiscovered form of spaceborne life.” He stepped
back into the command well and resumed his seat. “It is unfortunate that we will not
have the opportunity to study it fully.” Spock disregarded the semi-articulate protest
Frank voiced to that pronouncement and addressed the Triexian officer at the navigation
station. “At our current trajectories, how long before this life-form is beyond scanner
range?”

Lieutenant Arex keyed the variables into his console. “Just under fourteen minutes,
sir.”

“Couldn’t we ask the
814
to adjust our heading?” Frank proposed. “Fourteen minutes of long-range scans isn’t
much.”

“No, it is not,” Spock agreed. “But deviating from our course to Wezonvu, and delaying
our repairs, would not be in the
Enterprise
’s best
interests.” There was also his supposition that the Domain crew would not be favorably
inclined to such an “inefficient” use of time, and further delaying the duties they
were already putting aside in order to aid the
Enterprise
. “We shall simply have to make the most of our limited opportunity. Focus long-range
sensor arrays two through five on the creature.”

“Aye, sir,” the ensign said. Though disappointment was unmistakable in his vocal inflection,
this did not dampen the excitement of discovery manifested in his demeanor as he carried
out his orders and studied the incoming data. Spock was gratified to note that—as
he looked around the bridge and observed the rest of the crew following the conversation—they
also shared in Mister Frank’s enthusiasm.

Spock switched on the companel on the side of the captain’s chair and said, “Bridge
to sickbay.”

“Sickbay. McCoy here.”

“If you are not otherwise occupied, Doctor,” Spock said, “I would ask you to report
to the bridge.”

“Why? Is there something wrong up there?”
McCoy asked, concerned.

“If there were something wrong,” Spock replied, “I would have required you to come,
occupied or not.”

“Dammit, you pointy-eared—”
McCoy stopped in mid-outburst, then, after a curiously long pause,
said,
“Is it too much to ask for a simple answer to a simple question?”

Spock raised an eyebrow in reaction. Since the dinner aboard the
814
back at Nystrom IV, McCoy had exercised an uncharacteristic degree of restraint during
their exchanges. “There is no emergency, Doctor. We have made a scientific discovery,
and I merely wished to solicit the input of a medical professional.” He then added,
“I will, however, settle for yours.” Closing the channel, he cut off any retort the
doctor may have offered.

As he did so, Spock heard a signal from the communications station behind him. “Mister
Spock,” Lieutenant Palmer, the officer manning that station, said, “we’re being hailed
by the Domain ship.”

That struck Spock as curious. Most of the routine communications between the two ships
were being handled by the liaisons aboard the
814
—currently, Lieutenant Sulu and Ensign Chekov—and the officers at the helm and navigation.
There had proven little need for this more formal ship-to-ship protocol since getting
under way from the Nystrom system. “Open channel, and put it on the main viewscreen,”
Spock said.

Moments later, the image of Second Commander Satrav, standing at the front of his
command center, appeared.
“NCC-1701, code 5-58,”
he said.
“Your long-range scan arrays have gone out of
their alignment,”
he then added gruffly, giving the impression that he was being put upon by having
to explain his communication.

“We are conducting a scientific inquiry into an unusual spaceborne life-form,” Spock
explained to his Domain counterpart. “This is an unparalleled opportunity for us to
gather data on a rare and—”

“Mister Spock,”
Satrav said, cutting him off,
“standard protocol is for all sensor arrays to remain in their standard configuration
at all times, unless needed for a specific purpose.”

“There is a specific purpose now,” Spock said. Behind him, he heard the turbolift
doors open, and determined, without turning away from the Goeg on the viewer, that
it was Doctor McCoy who had arrived. “Starfleet protocols place a high priority on
scientific inquiry, and surely your vessel’s own navigational sensors are more than
sufficient for—”

“NCC-1701, execute code 5-59,”
Satrav ordered just before abruptly cutting the communication link.

“So what’s code 5-59,” McCoy asked from where he stood at the rail just in front of
the turbolift, “and why are we executing it?”

“It is the order to bring the sensor arrays into alignment,” Spock answered. “And
we are not.”

“No, sir?” Frank asked, turning in his seat with a look of concern.

“No, Ensign,” Spock affirmed. “The Domain Defense Corps’s operational standards are
for their
own ships; they do not apply to the
Enterprise
. Continue scans of the life-form.”

“Life-form?” McCoy queried. “I assume that’s what you called me up here to look at?”

“That is correct. Mister Frank, would you display your data again for Doctor McCoy?”

Frank keyed the command into the computer and slid aside for McCoy, who peered into
the hooded viewer. “Hell, it looks like a giant jellyfish!” he said.

“Just the quality of insight I was hoping for from you, Doctor,” Spock commented drily.

McCoy straightened up and spun around, some biting retort or another on his lips.
But, rather than the expected eruption of emotional outrage, what the doctor said
was, “How sure are you about the accuracy of these readings?”

“We’re in the process of gathering what additional data we can in the available time
frame,” Spock answered, considering the doctor’s use of restraint with interest, “but
I have no cause to believe these readings are anything but accurate.”

“Well, then, we have a pretty amazing find here,” McCoy said, showing the same excitement
Frank had earlier. “But what do you mean by ‘available time frame’?”

“The subject will be beyond sensor range in approximately twelve minutes,” Spock explained.
“And given the nature of our current joint venture . . .”

“. . . we can’t change course to go after it,” McCoy completed the statement, and
sighed. “Damn, it’s a hell of a missed opportunity.”

Before Spock could agree with McCoy’s sentiment, they were interrupted by Ensign Frank,
reporting, “Sir! We just lost signals from sensor arrays two, three, four, and five.”

Spock stepped up from the command well again and leaned over Frank’s shoulder to check
on those systems. Running a quick diagnostic, he discovered that the data feeds from
those four arrays were being disrupted by a forced feedback loop.

“Those wouldn’t be the same arrays our Goeg friend was so adamant about you realigning,
would they?” McCoy asked.

“In fact, they would be.” Spock moved back to the command chair and activated the
companel again. “
Enterprise
to Sulu. Situation report, please.”

“Sulu here. Situation nominal, Mister Spock. Why?”

“It appears that the Domain ship is interfering with our sensor systems.”

“What?”
Sulu reacted in shock.
“I saw the exchange between you and Satrav, but once he realized you weren’t going
to reset the sensors, he just gave the order to have that data filtered out from their
navigation computers.”

“I assume that was not the precise order he issued.”

“Well, no, what he said was ‘code 5-61.’ If I had realized . . .”

“You are not to blame,” Spock told him. That particular code, from Spock’s understanding,
should only have applied to the
814
’s own sensors. “Is Captain Kirk still aboard?”

“He and Commander Laspas were headed back to the
Enterprise.
That was about ten minutes ago,”
Sulu said, just as the turbolift opened again, revealing both the ship commanding
officers, who were laughing at some shared private amusement.

“Thank you, Mister Sulu. Spock out.” Spock closed the channel and moved around the
command chair to intercept the pair as they stepped onto the bridge. “Captain, Commander
Laspas. We appear to have a conflict between the two ships.”

“A conflict?” Kirk was the first to ask. “What is it?”

“We had redirected four of our long-range sensor arrays for use in a scientific study.
Second Commander Satrav protested this, and has now caused them to be disabled.”

“What?” Laspas tapped his ear-mounted communication device. “
814
, code 8-0!” After a brief pause for the connection to be made, he said, “Second Commander,
I am on the
Enterprise
bridge. First Officer Spock claims you had their sensor systems disabled. . . . Clarify.”

Laspas listened for several seconds, during which
an expression of pronounced annoyance spread over his face. “And how often in your
long career, Satrav, have you traversed this particular spaceway? . . . And in all
those excursions, how many times have you ever encountered any navigational hazards
or other spatial anomalies? Whatever risk there might be in allowing the
Enterprise
to use their own scanners for their own purposes would be negligible, wouldn’t it?”
Laspas paused to listen again, then raised his hand to his communicator and pressed
what Spock assumed was a mute button. “Mister Spock, what is the status of your scanners
now?”

Spock in turn looked to Ensign Frank, who checked and reported, “All affected arrays
now operating normally.”

Laspas nodded and pressed the same button again. “Code zero, Second Commander. Out.”
He touched another button on his earpiece, and then turned to the captain. “I apologize,
James. The standardized protocols don’t really apply in this current situation and . . .
well, the Corps, by its nature, doesn’t lend itself to easy adjustment to unique circumstances,
I’m afraid.”

“Not to worry; it was a simple enough matter to resolve,” the captain told him, and
turned expectantly to Spock.

The Vulcan did not mention how much valuable and fleeting time had been lost, or how
much potential data. “Yes, simple enough,” he replied.

Kirk nodded, pleased that the matter was closed. “Well, if there’s nothing else, Mister
Spock?”

“Nothing that should require your immediate attention, sir,” he said.

“Very well. You have the bridge.” He turned back to Laspas and gestured to the turbolift.
“Are you ready for another go at three-dimensional chess?”

“Lead the way, James,” the Goeg commander answered, and they both left the bridge.

“Is something wrong, Spock?”

Spock turned from the turbolift doors to face McCoy. “Why do you ask?”

McCoy fixed him with an intent, blue-eyed stare. “Because we’ve served together long
enough that I can tell, even behind that cold stoic mask, that something isn’t sitting
right with you.”

“Is that so, Doctor?” Spock asked, and turned away, calling up the long-range sensor
readings at the auxiliary science station.

“Yes, that is so,” McCoy said, standing as close as he could without making actual
physical contact. “And I know there’s something stuck in your craw, because you still
haven’t told me that there isn’t anything wrong. You’re worried about something more
than the Domain ship futzing with our sensors, aren’t you?”

“I would be negligent in my responsibilities as first officer if I did not concern
myself about such
matters,” Spock replied, still not looking at the doctor.

“Have you talked to Jim about these concerns?” McCoy asked.

The spaceborne life-form was at the very edge of their sensors’ range now, and more
and more warp space noise was appearing in the data. Spock began to formulate a program
to extrapolate whatever additional information they could to fill in the gaps. As
he worked, he told McCoy, “There has been little opportunity for me to talk to the
captain outside of Commander Laspas’s company.”

McCoy’s eyes widened as he considered the first officer, and his lips twisted into
a mocking grin. “Why, Spock, you’re not
jealous
, are you?”

Spock finally turned his full attention to the doctor. “I see you have decided to
resume your typical use of insult. Would you care to explain what twists of illogical
reasoning led to that pronouncement?”

McCoy’s smile dropped. “Spock, you don’t honestly believe Jim’s judgment is being
impaired because of the friendship he and Laspas have struck up, do you?”

“If I did, I would have acted on that belief,” Spock said.

“Then what’s the problem?” McCoy asked. “From what I saw just now, it seems that friendship
resolved a conflict before it got out of hand.”

Spock considered that perspective, and then
allowed, “My concerns may, perhaps, be unfounded. Thank you, Doctor.”

“You’re welcome,” McCoy said. “And . . . I’m sorry for that wisecrack about you being
jealous.”

“An apology is unnecessary,” Spock said wearily. “You are, after all, an illogical
human.”

McCoy stared silently at Spock, blinked, and then answered, “Well, then, I retract
my apology, you green-blooded hobgoblin.”

Spock nodded and turned to head back to his place in the command chair, but still
caught a glimpse of McCoy’s wide, amused smile out of the corner of his vision.