THE JUPITER 2 INCIDENT

by

PROLOGUE:

Commander Kruex was a living example of the old Klingon proverb: Make one mistake and I'll beam you into space and watch your blood boil. For a few more moments, anyway: he was next in the long line that formed at the base of the Imperial Transporter, today's unfortunates scheduled for execution.

On the platform before him, two Klingon guards tore away at the space suit of a small alien form. It was the Tholian merchant nearly everyone in the palace had come to watch die. (It seems the creature sold a dead planet to the Emperor's nephew.) But as Kruex surmised, the crowd came not out of loyalty to the crown. They came for the show. Tholians are crystal beings with a body temperature well over 350 degrees. No, the Tholian's blood will not boil. They've come to watch this one explode.

It's amazing how one mistake, one trifling error in judgment can find so many on the same transporter platform. How the actions of one insignificant Federation starship captain could turn the greatest military mind of all Klingon into space flotsam was beyond Kruex. But so, too, was this line of thinking. He had thought it all, long before, during his interminable wait for termination. His wasn't an error in judgment. He had been tricked. Why should he have assumed the Federation starship that had drifted into Klingon space was experiencing engine trouble? Anyone with the battle experience he possessed could see that the Federation ship was not as helpless as it pretended. That it was actually testing the new Super Weapon the Federation captain had described: the device that reflected all phaser energy fired at it back toward its attacker.

Corbomite he called it. Corbomite. It's a good word. A scientific word. Cor-bo-mite. It could have been the name of a new Federation weapon or a hundred other things just as easily as the device the Emperor had mentioned. And what on Klingon is a brand name of Earthling denture adhesive anyway?

Kruex no longer cared. He emptied his mind of questions long before he had joined this line. As he stepped onto the transporter, occupying the vacant pod to the right of the solemn Tholian merchant, the great battlecruiser commander focused only on violent, savage death. Not of the Tholian. Not even of his own. Deep within the recesses of his bony cranium, Kruex fabricated the death of the man responsible for his downfall. The grisly death of Captain James T. Kirk.

CHAPTER 1

Captain's Personal Log: Stardate 3630.7

The Enterprise has just completed its rendezvous with the Tholian merchant vessel Penurious and has orders to proceed directly to Belledom 10 with "urgent" cargo. Urgent, that's a laugh. The Enterprise is loaded to the catwalks with bootleg Tholian rum, not to mention about a decaton of Denovan Spore mixer . . . which probably packs a meaner punch than the rum.

Starfleet is welcoming Belledom 10 into the Federation. The brass is quite pleased. Belledom is a veritable dilithium gold mine . . . the Belledomese consider the stones worthless.

The Tholian alcohol is not for celebration, but rather a tribute to Belledom Chieftain, Chin Lestun Har. In return, his planet agrees to join the Federation and surrender all mining rights to Starfleet. Lestun Har is quite fond of spirits.

Belledom is in a strategic position, only two parsecs from Alderon Caninin, an asteroid-based space port equipped with excellent refining facilities. More important, the planet is situated within the Organian Treaty Zone and is, what politicians would call, the swing vote. If the Klingons were to sign a pact with the Belledomese before we arrive, the balance of political power in that sector would shift in their favor.

No wonder this cargo is marked urgent. Yet somehow I cannot help but be reminded of Manhattan and the American Indians of Old Earth. Whatever my sentiments, I have no choice but to comply. Starfleet Command has just given the word for warp six.

************

James T. Kirk, captain of the starship Enterprise, stared in amazement as crate after crate was moved from the transporter platform. Each time the dais was cleared, more and more packs of the alien booze shimmered and coalesced in its place. "At this rate I have a hunch the Belledomese will be the happiest members of the Federation," said Kirk smiling, scratching the side of his head.

"Indeed, Captain," replied Mr. Spock. The Vulcan first officer stood near the captain, arms folded across his chest, left eyebrow raised. "Both parties will benefit greatly in this venture."

Kirk looked at him, incredulous. "Spock, you of all people . . . you must be joking. Can't you see that this is nothing more than a cheap trick to obtain the mining rights on Belledom 10. We'll keep the natives drunk and no one will be the wiser."

Spock almost grinned. "Captain, you know as well as I, I never joke. On the contrary, the Tholian rum acts as a form of spiritual catalyst to the Belledomese." He paused, reflecting. "I had the good fortune to read Professor Anja's treatise, Facts and Farce of Holy Water, an absolutely fascinating essay on the--"

"Spock," Jim interrupted. "Are you trying to tell me that the Belledomese receive some sort of psychic uplifting . . . some kind of spiritual benefit from the Tholian drug? Is that what you're trying to tell me, Mr. Spock?" Jim smiled wryly at his Vulcan friend.

"Precisely, Captain. I am familiar with the plight of the American Indian on your Earth, but I assure you this is not the case here." Jim Kirk frowned to himself, wondering if he shouldn't keep a tighter lid on his personal log. Spock continued. "The Tholian rum is a great gift to the Belledomese, you could say medicinal in nature."

Kirk stood with his hands on his hips, facing his first officer. "And," replied Jim, leading Spock's gaze with a sidelong nod of his head, "I suppose those Venusian beer nuts are in reality Belledomese birth control pills."

Spock rubbed a hand under his chin, furrowed his brow. "Fascinating."

"Yellow alert. Condition yellow." Uhura's voice splashed over the intercom. "Captain Kirk to the bridge. All crew to duty stations. Yellow alert."

Kirk reached for the communicator switch on the transporter panel, pushing aside the engineer stationed there with one outstretched arm. "Mr. Sulu, what's going on up there?"

"I'm not quite sure, Captain," answered the helmsman. "The Tholian ship transported the last of her cargo. I watched her warp out myself not two minutes ago. Now sensors seem to be picking up some sort of vessel."

"Any specifications?"

"No, sir. The ship is too far out for complete scanner readings. All I can tell you now is that it is small and appears to be saucer shaped. And, Captain . . . it seems to be traveling very erratically . . . as if he's drunk or something."

"Well thank you for your color commentary, Mr. Sulu; I'll be right there. Kirk out." Jim punched the switch with his open palm and turned to Spock. "Perhaps the Tholians are on a bit of a spiritual pilgrimage themselves." Jim's eyes twinkled.

"Highly unlikely, Captain," replied the Vulcan, stone- faced. "The Tholians are very--"

The exasperated look on the captain's face gave Spock the cue for silence.

The turbolift doors opened onto the bridge. Sulu stood from the command chair and took his place on the left side of the navigational helm. Kirk and Spock stepped through the doors and walked briskly to their respective stations. The captain eyed the screen the entire time.

"Status report, Mr. Sulu."

"It's a small, interplanetary vessel, approximately 12.74 meters across, saucer shaped, traveling at .997 the speed of light. Its flight path is erratic but it seems to be heading out of the galaxy." Sulu turned toward the captain. "There's not an advanced civilization for parsecs. Beats me how it got all the way out here, Captain."

"Slow down to warp factor one, Mr. Sulu." Captain Kirk turned to the sound of the turbolift doors opening. He nodded quickly, smiling a greeting to Scotty and Dr. McCoy as they entered the bridge, then turned back to his helmsman. "We want to reach them, not scare the wits out of them."

Scott and McCoy moved to the center of the bridge, both staring at the teetering antics of the disk-shaped object upon the screen.

"Well ul be ah pipah in a brass band," exclaimed Scotty.

"Propulsion is standard fusion power," Spock stated while peering through his view finder, "operating a primitive network of reaction control thrusters. Primary hull composition: stainless steel and aluminum honeycombed structures surrounded by an inner and outer skin of pure titanium." He paused, manipulated a few buttons all the while gazing into his computer screen. "I am now getting life form readings." His head snapped up abruptly. "Captain, this is not an alien vessel. There are terran life forms aboard."

"And why woulden there be?" explained, rather than asked, Mr. Scott. He gestured toward the screen with a nod of his head. "That's un Earth ship."

Jim shifted to the front edge of his chair, turning to face his chief engineer. "What are you saying, Scotty?"

"Um sayin' that that ship out there was launched from Earth. But, Captain, it was launched in the late twentieth century."

"Spock?" Jim Kirk pivoted in his chair, hoping his science officer had more information concerning the mysterious craft.

"Mr. Scott is correct." Spock pulled a file from the ship's computer, tapping it lightly against the tips of his fingers. "Early in your Earth year 1997, the old American National Interstellar Exploration Agency, more commonly referred to in its acronym form, NIEA, launched its first manned, deep-space vessel out of the Earth's orbit. The craft, which was of the A3 117 Alpha Gemini and Jupiter series, was dubbed the Jupiter 1, for it was the first Earth vessel ever to land on the Jupiter moon, Titan. Due to the success of that prototype, a larger, modified version of the A3 117 was launched later that same year."

"Aye," interjected Scotty, "the Jupiter 2."

"Correct," added Spock. "It was to carry the first Earth family to the stars. Its destination: Alpha Centauri."

Jim stood from the command chair and began to pace. "Jupiter 2 . . . Jupiter 2," he thought aloud, tapping his forefinger against his lips. "I've read some . . . thing

. . . about . . . ," Kirk wrenched the words out slowly as he searched his memory for the information he was certain would answer some important questions. As his eyes gazed about the bridge, they met the stare of Dr. McCoy. "A doctor," exclaimed the captain, pulling his finger from his lips to point at Dr. McCoy. Bones looked taken aback.

"Of course, it was back in my Academy days--standard reading." He looked around at no one in particular as if still unsure of his memory. "It was believed that the Alpha Control medical doctor responsible for examining the crew--" The captain stopped and snapped his fingers. "Smith . . . Dr. Zachary Smith." He spoke more confidently. "It was believed that Dr. Smith sabotaged the Jupiter mission then fled the country. He was never seen nor heard from again." Kirk folded his arms and turned to his right, addressing Scotty and Bones. "He went down in history as the biggest American traitor since Benedict Arnold."

Spock strode to the center of the bridge. "Precisely, Captain." Jim shifted, allowing him to enter their circle. The Vulcan continued. "And just as with your revolutionary villain, not one American-born male was given the proper name Zachary for nearly two hundred years."

"Maybe I'm reading the wrong books," chimed in McCoy, "but I thought the Jupiter 2 was destroyed."

"Presumed destroyed, Doctor," retorted Spock. "Records indicate that the preprogrammed guidance system aboard the Jupiter 2 malfunctioned shortly after liftoff. Since no vessel at that time was equipped with warp drive, occupants were preserved in cryogenic sleep until their ship reached its destination. There was no one awake on the Jupiter 2 to correct the malfunction so the ship drifted off course. It was last tracked entering the main asteroid belt between Mars and Jupiter."

"Then if this is in fact the Jupiter 2--"

"It is, Captain," interrupted Spock.

"And it was last seen entering an asteroid field while her crew was in a state of cryogenic sleep," Kirk pointed, open palmed, at the image on the screen. "How in the blazes did it survive to get all the way out here?"

Spock moved closer to the three officers, his back turned away from the screen. He spoke softly. "Since the ship did not have effective shielding against the destructive force of the asteroid field, and since this is indeed the Jupiter 2, we must deduce that the vessel had somehow successfully navigated its way out of the belt."

"Well that's logical, Spock," joked McCoy, "but it's also as obvious as your Vulcan ears."

"As I was about to say, Captain," Spock dismissed the doctor's remark with a brief pause. "There are two possibilities for such navigation. One, the rather crude, although sufficient for the task, robot aboard the Jupiter could have been programmed to wake the crew should such an emergency arise."

"And second, Mr. Spock?" asked Jim, smiling, egging his friend on, yet interested in what his science officer had to say.

"The only other possible solution was that someone aboard that ship was not in cryogenic sleep."

"Spock, are you suggesting . . . a stowaway?" Both men stared at the enigmatic saucer.

"Mr. Spock," added Uhura. "Isn't it possible that the ship could have made it out of the asteroid belt accidentally?"

The Vulcan turned toward Uhura, seemingly annoyed at the eavesdropping communications officer. "Lieutenant Uhura, the odds of successfully navigating an inadequately shielded craft through an asteroid field is approximately 753,098,957 to 1. I am sure you can appreciate the dramatic increase in the odds were the ship to be unmanned." Firmly chastised, Uhura sulked over her boards.

"The captain of that ship must have been an excellent pilot," replied McCoy.

"Yes," echoed Jim almost dreamlike. "I'd like to have met him."

Spock pivoted toward the captain, speaking once again in hushed tones. "There is one other thing." He lowered the hand held under his chin and folded his arms. "Biosensors picked up readings on seven human life forms in suspended animation." He paused. "And, Captain . . . one alien entity, simian in nature, with slight superficial and chemical alterations."

"Well," said McCoy, "It's safe to say they left those cryogenic contraptions at one point. They must have landed on some kind of planet."

"Precisely, Doctor." Spock moved closer, facing Kirk and McCoy. Scotty peered over the doctor's shoulder. "There is no doubt that the crew was at one time out of the cryogenic chambers. The brain patterns we have monitored indicate insufficient intelligence for the simian creature to have entered and activated a chamber by itself, yet it is suspended in one of the tubes. Also, there are seven human beings aboard when there should only be six. The Robinsons were five in number: Professor John Robinson, his wife Maureen, children Judith, Penny and William. Also aboard was the ship's co-pilot . . . a Major Donald West."

"For heaven's sake, Spock," interrupted McCoy. "That's a family out there." Bones pointed to the screen. "A human family. They've been out there for over 200 years. Of course there's going to be more people on board. They're human. They don't have to fly back to Vulcan every seven years to get sex."

Spock continued, unperturbed. "Your analysis of the situation, Doctor, although somewhat emotional, is essentially correct. I have already taken that possibility into consideration. In fact, there is no reason for us to believe that the original crew of the Jupiter 2 still exists. Depending on how long the original Robinson family stayed in their cryogenic state, what we now have here could be the great great grandchildren of William and Penny Robinson, and whatever individuals the Robinsons and Major West had

procreated.

"Oh Spock," ridiculed McCoy, "you make it all sound so romantic."

"That's enough, Doctor," the captain snapped. He pointed to the Jupiter with short stabbing motions. "I want to know exactly who is in that vessel."

Dr. McCoy was troubled. His remark shouldn't have upset the captain like that. Was Jim actually nervous? Yes, there was tension in his voice. Even now, as the captain ordered Uhura to open a channel to the Jupiter 2, Dr. McCoy could sense it. For the first time in his life, Bones got the distinct feeling that Jim Kirk was being more cautious than he. Something was wrong.

"Hailing frequency open, Captain," announced Uhura. But before Kirk could give greetings and his bit about being on a peaceful mission, a voice from the other end spilled onto the bridge. It was singing.

"Swing low, sweet char-i-o-ot. Comin' for to carry me ho-oomme. Swing low, sweet . . . I am not a bubble-headed booby . . . hut two three four. Hut two three four . . . You're in the army now . . . WEEEEeeee! I love you Will Robinson . . ."

Spock cocked his head curiously then stalked back toward his station. Jim signaled to Uhura as he backed into his chair.

"This is Captain James T. Kirk of the Starship Enterprise, to whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?"

The voice returned. "Danger. Danger. Alien vessel approaching. Danger. Danger."

Spock straightened from over his sensors. "Captain, as I suspected, the speech patterns we are now hearing are not human . . . they are synthetic. You are talking to a machine."

The captain eyed him curiously. "What does it mean?"

"The voice is emanating from different parts of the ship." Kirk looked confused. "In other words, Captain," finished Spock, "the speaker is on the go as you would say. I believe it may be the ship's environmental robot."

A barely perceptible shift in light patterns presented itself upon Spock's science station--only noticeable to the Vulcan's keen eyes. He flipped the appropriate switches and gazed once again into his view finder. He had no sooner looked down when his head snapped back up and toward the captain.

"Captain. The cryogenic tubes aboard the Jupiter 2 are deactivating. Without medical supervision . . ."

"I understand." Kirk stood up and strode toward the turbolift. "Spock. Bones. To the transporter." He spun around as he waited for the lift doors to open. "Mr. Scott, give me someone who knows ancient Earth ships."

"That ud be me, Captain," answered Scott.

"All right Scotty, you've just bought yourself a ticket."

The lift doors opened and the three men filed in behind the captain. Jim Kirk grasped the turbolift control firmly. "Mr. Sulu, you've got the conn."

The doors shut with a whoosh and the lift began its quick journey through the infrastructure of the Enterprise. Inside, Engineer Scott could still not believe his good fortune.

"I cannah believe mah good fortune. Uhn Earth ship from the twentieth century. The Jupiter 2 no less. Can ya believe what ya seein', Captain?"

Jim choked on the stale blast of scotch whiskey and smiled politely. Spock wrinkled his nose. "Engineer Scott, I fail to understand why you do not believe that this ship is the Jupiter 2 when there is no data to support the contrary."

"Is not that I don't believe it, Mr. Spock. Thut's the Jupiter 2 or I'm a Denebian slime duvil." Scotty held his hands behind his back and rocked on his heels. He tilted his head and smiled through his teeth. "I'm just sayin' that it's hard tah believe . . . if ya get my meanin'."

Spock frowned. "No, I do not get your meaning. Believability has neither hard nor easy qualities attributed to it. One either believes or disbelieves. To say you believe but find the believing difficult connotes doubt, which is a contradiction."

"What Scotty is trying to say, Spock, is that the whole thing is just too incredible to be believed. Think of the odds we overcame to accidentally locate a 200-year-old Earth ship just months before it would have left this galaxy for good."

Spock folded his arms as if just completing a checkmate move. "Doctor McCoy, since incredible is merely a synonym for unbelievable, all you are saying is that the incident is too unbelievable to be believable. Now who is stating the obvious?"

The turbolift doors opened onto a long corridor just outside the transporter room. Jim flew out first, the argument followed close behind.

"You're just plain stubborn, Spock," McCoy chortled. "You can't admit losing an argument."

Spock clung to his point. "It is meaningless to say one believes in that which is unbelievable."

As they approached the transporter room, Captain Kirk decided to break his self-made silence. "Mr. Spock, I believe you are incredibly stubborn."

The doors slid open. Jim stepped aside, gesturing inside the room with a broad sweep of his arm. "Gentlemen." As Spock passed through the doors, he opened his mouth as if to say something, turned toward the captain, paused, then proceeded the rest of the way into the transporter room. Dr. McCoy grinned like a schoolboy.

They took their places on the platform, prepared to be transported. Suddenly, Kirk jerked his hand up to stop the engineer from energizing the beam. He looked around.

"Where's Scotty?"

"I'm right here, Captain," replied Mr. Scott, entering the room. He approached the transporter toting a phaser rifle and a bottle of Tholian rum.

"Mr. Scott," exclaimed Kirk, "just what do you think you're doing with that?"

"What, this lil' thing?" Scot used the alien bottle to point at the rifle in his other hand. "Just a little extra protection is all."

Jim stood with his hands on his hips. "I was referring to that bottle of rum."

"Ach, just ah wee token uv esteem. I thought ya might like tah present it to the commandah."

"And now for the big question," Jim asked smiling towards Bones and Spock. "How on Earth did you get one of those Tholian crates open? They're sealed in Thermomite."

Scotty used the alien bottle to once again point to the phaser rifle in his left hand.

"I used this."

Kirk, Spock and McCoy all chided at once, reminding Scotty of the hazards of phaser fire on Tholian rum.

"You could have blown up my ship."

"An infinitely unnecessary risk."

"Do you realize the destructive force that would be unleashed were the volatile chemicals of that rum to be hit with a direct phaser shot?"

Scotty was indignant. "I wuz very careful, Captain." He cradled the bottle close to his bosom. "I wouldn't spill one drop of these precious beauties."

The trio on the platform nodded in silent agreement. Scotty took his place upon the dais.

"Energize," ordered captain Kirk.

The four figures shimmered as the transporter was activated. The Tholian rum that ran out of the open bottle over Scott's mouth stopped, twinkled with the light of a thousand stars, regrouped aboard the Jupiter 2 and completed its journey to the engineer's lips.

"Aachh!" Scotty sprayed the contents of his mouth onto the floor. "What are them Tholian duvils tryin' tah do, poison us?" He looked at the bottle with disgust, then placed it on the rim of a glass-domed, spherical console in the center of the ship. He walked back to the others, turning his head toward the abandoned rum as if expecting an attack from behind. Bones held a tricorder to the suspect alcohol spit out by Mr. Scott.

"Why, this isn't rum at all Jim . . . it's . . . it's--"

"Out with it Bones," said the captain.

McCoy gazed up from his readings. "It's Tholian urine, Jim."

Scotty went into a rage, flailing his arms, cursing the Tholians with every foul word Kirk had ever heard--and a few he hadn't. Every attempt to calm the enraged engineer failed. Just as they thought they succeeded, Scotty would begin again, shaking his clenched fist to the ceiling of the ship. Kirk had no choice but to ask Spock to perform the Vulcan mind meld. He did not want his chief engineer incapacitated with vengeance.

The message was a simple one. Spock knelt down in front of Scotty, splaying his fingers from the bridge of the engineer's nose to his temple. Scott stilled immediately.

"Your name is Montgomery Scott, chief engineer aboard the starship Enterprise. You have never, nor will you ever, drink alien urine from a bottle marked Tholian rum."

Kirk and McCoy surveyed what appeared to be the bridge of the archaic vessel. The area was spherical, conforming to the shape of the outer hull. At the bow--if a circular ship can have a bow--was a rectangular, plexiglas viewport circumscribing a rather chintzy-looking set of panels. Bulky knobs, switches, buttons and lights, most of which were dormant, seemed to Kirk to be thrown randomly in front of two flight chairs without any consideration for the pilots' comfort, or for that matter, the efficient running of the vessel. To the right of these panels, on the wall, hung what appeared to be a distant relative to the fire extinguishers aboard the Enterprise. To the right of that: a door that led to a decompression chamber, and then, presumably, to the outside.

McCoy walked to the back of the bridge where six transparent tubes stood side by side against the wall. In them stood seven sleeping humans and one small, chimpanzee-type creature. The tubes were open.

"Jim. Quick," McCoy hollered.

"What is it, Bones." Jim closed the distance between them. Scotty, back to his old self, was helped up by Spock, and the two followed Kirk to the cryogenic gas chamber McCoy was inspecting. The doctor held his medical tricorder to a small, middle-aged man standing in the tube.

"This one's waking up."

Captain Kirk restrained from biting his lip. He wiped the sweat from his palms before anyone noticed it was there.

"Mr. Scott, where's that phaser rifle?"

"Begging the captain's pardon, sir," Spock began, "I see no necessity for such--"

"We saw no necessity the last time we discovered a sleeper ship," snapped Kirk, "and we let loose an army of crazed supermen that tried to take over my ship!"

Spock moved closer to Kirk, understanding, but not feeling the captain's fear. He raised his brow and lowered his voice. "Jim. This ship was launched in the year 1997. At that time, Alex Charon, son of Dr. Adam Charon, was but a thirteen year old boy attending Harvard University. And Kahn was wetting diapers in India."

"Genetically superior diapers," added Jim, somewhat relieved. Spock missed the joke.

"What I am getting at, Captain, is that the `supermen,' as they were called, did not come into power until the year 2019, when Rupert Hentzau was named Emperor of a reunited Germany. So you see, Captain, in the era that this ship was launched, there would have been no need to exile any genetically altered beings in a sleeper ship . . . as was the case with Kahn."

At that, the gray-haired man in the tube opened his eyes, took one look at Spock and his Vulcan ears, let out a blood curdling scream and collapsed to the floor.

Kirk wrapped an arm around his torso, rubbed his chin with the other hand. "I suppose you're right, Spock."

McCoy knelt over the figure slouched at the bottom of the tube. "He was just frightened out of his nut by your green blooded first officer, Jim. He'll be all right."

Just then, a large, metal contraption rolled in from another chamber, propelled by bulky treadmill feet. It had long, retractable, cylindrical limbs with metal claws attached, which were extended far out in front of its body, flailing wildly up and down. The elliptical bubble attached to its "head" blinked with tiny lights and bobbed up and down in a crazy rhythm--a somewhat off-beat syncopation with its reeling arms. A white panel on the face of the robot flashed wildly with each word it spoke: "Warning! Danger! Danger! Alien intruder! Danger! Professor Robinson. Will. Doctor Smith. Danger! Danger!"

White bolts of electrical energy flashed from the tips of the robot's claws as it advanced on Dr. McCoy. "What in heaven's name . . ." Bones stepped back cautiously as the mechanical monster approached. He bumped into a body, turned around to see Scotty smiling--almost laughing--which made the doctor just that much more annoyed.

Jim stepped between his chief surgeon and the oncoming menace, arms raised in front of him, palms facing outward. "We mean you and your crew no harm. We're on a peaceful--"

The robot knocked the captain to the floor with one precise blow of its retractable arm. Spock reached for his phaser. Scotty slipped around the doctor and dived toward the robot, barely escaping being roasted by a bolt of lightning that shot from its claw, scorching the floor half a meter in front of McCoy.

The robot turned on Spock before he could shoot. It aimed its claws at the Vulcan. Then, the lights on its front panel and bubble went out. The bubble retracted close to its head. The upper torso bent forward; its limbs hung low and useless in front. Its last word was slow and lowered in pitch: "Dddaaaaannnnnggeeeerrrr." Then nothing.

Scotty beamed at the side of the incapacitated robot, displaying a small black cartridge in the tips of his fingers.

"My compliments, Mr. Scott, for your ingenuity." Spock lowered his phaser and attached it to his belt. Kirk pushed himself up from the floor, wiped the trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth with the backside of his hand. "Good work, Scotty. How'd you do it?"

"Captain, I've bin puttin' these things together ever since I wuz ah wee lad. In fact, I just gave a kit to mah nephew last month, but thut one wuz a little more sophisticated than this one here." He bent at the waist, began plugging then unplugging the cartridge in the side of the robot. As he talked, the robot sequentially turned on and off--straightening, then leaning forward--arms retracting, then spilling loosely out of their sockets. "Ya see, Captain. It's kinda like a battery or a phaser pack, except this one works on electrical current."

Kirk smiled, winced as he straightened his bruised back, then smiled out of embarrassment. "I think it would be wise if you hold on to that thing until we get a few things straightened out."

"Aye, Captain."

"Bones. How's he doing?"

McCoy was leaning over the stretched out body of the man who had fainted. He pulled him out of the tube and laid him flat on his back. "He should be coming out of it any second now, Jim. I just gave him a shot of Masiform-D. There, he's coming to now."