currently quartered in these facilities.
By the time the sounds of the young Vulcans indicated passage through the canteen doors, Spock and T’Vrel were equipped and ready for whatever had to be done.
In the false color generated by Spock’s thermal imager, the two Vulcans in the doorway appeared brighter than T’Vrel. The outline of their lean bodies glowed through the simple robes they wore. Both were overheated from running. Certainly not from fear, Spock thought. The two young Vulcans were Surakians, students of T’Vrel’s own s’url.
To both Spock and T’Vrel, Soral made a series of broad, though precise, gestures—combat sign language designed to be intelligible even in the low-resolution reconstructions provided by the thermal imagers.
His information was succinct: Invaders had beamed in at three different locations, three individuals to each team. Thus far, at least four Vulcans had been killed, and the facility’s own transporter room was under enemy control.
Spock’s first conclusion was that the invaders were Cardassian. The concept of a triumvirate was the centerpiece of their dominant culture. However, the Cardassian Union had been brought to the brink of destruction by the Dominion War, and Spock could not see any logical motive for its leaders to expend resources on an operation to manipulate Romulan politics.
But T’Vrel had already jumped beyond Spock’s line of reasoning.
“Cardassian mercenaries,” she said in a low voice, beside Spock.
Spock did not contest her conclusion. There were certainly enough dishonored Cardassian soldiers in the quadrant unable to return home. Their connections to the Obsidian Order would only guarantee a war crimes tribunal which, by Cardassian tradition, would try them only after they had been found guilty. Such soldiers would be eager for employment by whoever could pay the price, and would have no motivation to question their assignments.
Spock considered the small cylindrical device that T’Vrel now held up. It was a Romulan sunpod flare, designed to explode in two distinct phases. The first phase would generate an encrypted electromagnetic pulse that would selectively switch off—for one-half second—the thermal imagers the Vulcans wore. Less than a millisecond later, the second phase of the explosion would produce a broad spectrum of infrared radiation and visible light powerful enough to overwhelm the circuits of the invaders’ thermal imagers.
In the seconds it would take for the enemy imagers to reconfigure themselves, he and T’Vrel and the two younger Vulcans would have a decided advantage. Yet given that Soral and T’Rem were Surakians, schooled in the most ancient Vulcan combat arts, whoever dared enter this room was most unlikely to last more than a heartbeat, even without the deployment of countermeasures.
The only variable that Spock could not adequately incorporate into a logical prediction of the outcome of this attack was the invaders’ use of disintegration weapons. But from the increasing sound of the approaching footfalls, an empirical answer would soon be furnished.
Soral and T’Rem exchanged another set of rapid hand signals with T’Vrel. Then T’Rem leapt lightly onto a bench, from there onto a table, and finally sprang to a position above the entrance door, clinging to the wall like an enormous insect.
Though the details were too fine for Spock to see in his imager, he recalled a wiring conduit that ran along the wall above the doorway. It apparently was all the support T’Rem needed to hold herself in position. Her display of agility and strength was impressive.
Now Soral made a twisting movement and Spock saw the smeared orange outline of the student’s long cotton vest flutter to the floor to the side of the door, still incandescent with his residual body heat. The young Vulcan then slipped behind a food dispenser, flattening his body against the carved rock wall so he would be unseen when the invaders entered.
It appeared Soral had determined that the rapidity of the invaders’ advance through the corridors indicated they were not using sensing devices to map an area before entering. What they lost in precision, they gained in speed. The tactic also meant they gave no energy signals to their enemies that could be used to locate them. Cardassian tactics once again, Spock concluded.
T’Vrel gestured to him, and Spock took his place beside the open equipment locker, a countermeasures case slung over his shoulder, and in his right hand a Romulan disruptor. The weapon had no stun setting, so Spock had switched it from lethal neural disruption to molecular decohesion. If he had to, he would take another’s life to preserve his own. But, he calculated, blasting loose rock from the room’s low ceiling might be enough to repel the invaders without causing unnecessary fatalities.
Then he waited.
He heard more boots running and the hiss of two more weapon discharges, one of them followed by a crashing of rock and metal.
Spock noted the direction of the noise and judged that one of the facility’s geothermal power converters had been destroyed. The invaders clearly wished to prevent any circuit reconfiguration that would divert life-support power to the lighting grid. That also suggested the invaders were counting on the darkness continuing.
The thought reassured Spock. It meant the sunpod flare would likely be an effective, nonlethal weapon. The enemy entering the canteen would be temporarily blinded, and in those few seconds they could be captured. Alive. Learning the invaders’ identity would certainly reveal their motives, and that knowledge in turn would open other logical pathways to victory through negotiation, escape, or combat.
The sounds of footsteps slowed as the unseen enemy approached the canteen door from the corridor.
Spock’s sensitive hearing caught the faint metallic snick of the sunpod flare being armed by T’Vrel.
Then three large humanoid forms of false yellow rushed into the doorway, halted, and swept the room with an ungainly and unidentifiable rifle-like weapon.
Spock had just enough time to note that the invaders did not have the distinctive, cobra-neck silhouette of Cardassians before his imager switched off. A moment later, he felt the heat of the sunpod’s release of blinding light.
Spock bolted for the doorway, fully expecting Soral and T’Rem to have subdued the blinded invaders in the few seconds it would take him to get there. But when his imager switched back on again, less than three steps later, he saw a different outcome.
Soral was trading a flurry of deadly hand strikes with one of the invaders, weaving and ducking to avoid being shot by the attacker’s rifle.
Spock quickly reached a new conclusion: The fact that the enemy was engaged in hand-to-hand combat instead of using disintegrators strongly implied they intended to capture whoever was in this room.
Then T’Rem dropped from the wall above the other two invaders, striking one with her fists and the other with her feet. As both were thrown off balance, stumbling forward, the young Vulcan tucked into a roll as she reached the floor, and leapt in an instant to her feet.
One of the invaders whirled about, awkwardly brandishing his rifle as a staff. But T’Rem simply flipped over it and struck him once again with her feet. The force of her blow sent him flying backward into a bench.
T’Vrel was at the invader’s side at once. Spock didn’t have to see what happened next. The touch of two of the Vulcan healer’s fingers in the appropriate katra point, and the invader would be paralyzed.
Soral and the third invader battled on in silence. Both combatants’ movements were so fast they strobed across Spock’s computer-generated vision.
Ignoring his disruptor, Spock held his hand ready to strike, using his other senses to answer the last question he had about Soral’s attacker: Which species of humanoid was attacking them?
He smelled the sharp hot scent of the emitter node on the invader’s recently used energy weapon. Then sweat, not as pungent as a Klingon’s, not as sour as a human’s, insufficient in character to identify the species.
He listened to the sounds of the attacker’s uniform, creaking as if made from actual animal hide and not military fabric engineered for silence. He heard the attacker’s steady breathing, controlled and focused, through his nostrils, not his open mouth, despite his strenuous exertions.
Spock processed all these impressions in less than a second, but none led him to a logical identification of Soral’s attacker.
But just as he had been a teacher of James T. Kirk, so Spock had been a student of the human captain. Logic was not the only way to approach a challenge.
