0142 hours, 10th February 2258
The Narada
Emergency lighting bathed the Narada's bridge in an ominous red glow. The enormous vessel continued to tilt, its loss of power leaving it at the mercy of Vulcan's gravity.
The deck had become a steeply angled surface, forcing everyone aboard to grab whatever fixtures they could reach. Pike had one hand wrapped around the back of a chair, while Kirk and Commander Spock clung to nearby consoles. Ambassador Spock had moved toward the helm, bracing himself against the station. Ben remained near the edge of another console, his armored fingers gripping its surface tightly enough to leave faint impressions in the metal. The five remaining members of Lieutenant Johnson's security team had likewise found whatever handholds they could.
Nero, however, seemed entirely unconcerned. Still lying on the deck where Kirk had left him, the Romulan laughed.
Ambassador Spock began tapping through the emergency displays of the helm console. "The ship's central power grid is failing."
Pike tightened his grip on the chair. "What about auxiliary power?"
Commander Spock was already working at another console. "Auxiliary power is failing as well." He studied the readings for another moment before looking toward Pike. "It appears that the ship is caught in Vulcan's gravitational field."
A deep rumble travelled through the deck. Then came a series of distant explosions somewhere deeper inside the Narada. The sound reverberated through the enormous vessel, followed by another tremor.
Pike looked toward Commander Spock. "Can we stop it?"
Spock examined the dead and failing systems. "Without power, there is nothing we can do."
Ben's attention shifted toward Nero. The Romulan captain's face was bloodied from Kirk's punches, one eye partially swollen and blood running from his nose and mouth. Yet there was no fear in his expression. If anything, he looked pleased.
Ben released the console and walked toward him. The uneven deck made the journey awkward, but he compensated easily enough. When he reached Nero, he grabbed the front of his coat and hauled him upward.
The faceplate of Ben's helmet retracted.
"What did you do?" Ben demanded. He shook Nero violently. "Talk!"
Nero stared back at him with a vicious grin. "Make me."
Ben's expression hardened. "As you wish." He looked directly into Nero's eyes.
"Legilimens!"
Ben's consciousness plunged into Nero's mind. He did not enter gently. There was no careful probing of memories, no attempt to establish a controlled connection. Currently, he had neither the patience nor the inclination for subtlety.
Memories rushed past him.
Romulus.
The Jellyfish.
Spock.
The singularity.
The Kelvin.
Twenty-five years of hatred.
Nero sensed the intrusion. He tried to resist, tried to shield his memories from Ben. Ben pushed deeper, disregarding the Romulan's changing expression full of discomfort, while searching for the sequence of events that had begun when the boarding party had appeared aboard the Narada.
Then he found it.
Ayel.
Engineering.
The warp core.
The plan.
Ben's eyes widened. He released Nero and hurled him back onto the deck.
"You son of a bitch!"
Nero barely had time to look up before Ben raised a hand and a jet of red magical energy struck him squarely in the chest. The Romulan captain collapsed unconscious against the deck.
Ben turned sideways and raised his hand again. He tried to open a portal. A faint shimmer appeared in the air, flickered, and disappeared. Ben frowned and tried again. The same thing happened.
The enormous energy output of the Narada's warp core—or what remained of it—was making it difficult to establish a stable spatial connection. Ben closed his eyes and concentrated harder, forcing his magic through the interference.
This time, a small aperture appeared. It flickered violently. Ben pushed harder and the portal expanded. Beyond it lay the Narada's Engineering section.
The outer hull of the enormous warp core dominated the majority of the room the portal had opened in. Standing beside a nearby terminal was Ayel, bent over the controls.
The Romulan looked up from the console, his eyes widening at the sight of the expanding portal. Then he saw Ben.
Ayel's hand immediately went to the disruptor pistol resting on the terminal. Ben expected Ayel to fire at him through the portal. Instead, the Narada's first officer swung the weapon toward a large mechanical lever mounted beside the warp-core control terminal.
"No!"
Three green disruptor bolts flashed through the Engineering section. The first struck the machinery beside the lever. The second slammed into the wall. The third was already on its way toward the lever when a brilliant beam of energy erupted from Ben's armored palm and struck Ayel directly in the chest.
The Romulan was lifted off his feet and thrown several metres across Engineering. He struck the deck hard and lay motionless.
Pike stared through the portal at the unconscious Romulan. "Who's that?"
"Nero's first officer," Ben answered, lowering his arm. He glanced briefly toward the unconscious Nero. "When he saw us board the ship and take down his crew members—roughly three times our number—with relative ease, Nero ordered his first officer to go to Engineering. In the event that we successfully captured the bridge, Ayel was supposed to take the warp core offline. Then, while the rest of the crew evacuated the falling ship, he was to overload the core and set it up for a delayed explosion on Vulcan's surface."
Pike's expression hardened. "That bastard."
Ambassador Spock moved through the portal and went directly to the terminal. His fingers moved rapidly across the controls as he examined the warp-core status.
Kirk approached Ben. "Hey..." He gestured toward the fluctuating portal. "What's going on with that?"
Ben grimaced. "It's fine. The enormous amount of residual energy inside the warp core is making it difficult to keep a stable wormhole open this close to it. That's all."
Kirk watched him. "You all right?"
Ben gave him a reassuring smile. "I'm good. It's just taking a little more concentration than usual." He glanced toward the portal. "Although, I don't think I'll be able to open another portal near the warp core once it's up and running again."
Across the portal, Ambassador Spock continued working at the Engineering console. A few seconds later, he straightened.
"I have stopped the warp-core overload," he announced, then looked down at the console again, his expression becoming more serious. "It will, however, take a few minutes to bring the core back online."
His gaze shifted toward Ben. "Mr. Carter, I would appreciate it if you could come over here and assist me."
Ben nodded. "Of course." He stepped through the portal into Engineering.
Ambassador Spock turned toward his younger counterpart still standing on the bridge. "Mr. Spock, as soon as power is restored, steer the ship away from the planet. Even without a warp-core breach, if the Narada crashes onto Vulcan, the resulting disturbance will most likely ignite the Red Matter." His expression hardened. "That must not happen."
Commander Spock gave a firm nod. "Understood."
Ben looked at the portal. It was beginning to fluctuate more violently now. Its edges rippled and distorted, the smoky-blue energy struggling against the enormous power inside the Narada's warp core.
"Guys, it's getting harder to keep the portal open," Ben said. "I think I'd better close it for now." He looked at Ambassador Spock, then turned back toward Pike, Kirk and Commander Spock. "We'll see you all when this is done."
Pike gave him an encouraging nod. "Good luck."
Ben returned the nod and closed the portal. He turned toward Ambassador Spock. "All right, Mr. Spock, what do you need me to do?"
The Narada continued to groan around them. Klaxons blared incessantly throughout the ship. Every so often, a series of words was repeated over the ship's internal communications system. Ben could not understand them, but given the circumstances, he suspected they were broadcasting an evacuation order.
Somewhere in the distance, something exploded with a deafening boom, sending a tremor through the deck beneath their feet. The entire vessel continued to tilt and shudder as Vulcan's gravity steadily pulled it downward.
Spock turned toward the nearby terminal and resumed working at the console. Ben stepped closer, peering over his shoulder. The language displayed across the screen was completely unfamiliar to him, most likely Romulan. Several lines of alien characters flashed repeatedly across the display, accompanied by warning symbols.
"Even if we get the warp core online, we still need to redirect the power," Spock said as he looked at Ben. "That is where you come in. In a few minutes, when the warp core is functioning again, this display..." He pointed toward a section of the screen where three words were flashing against a red background. "...will turn green. When that happens, you will need to flip this switch." He pointed to a switch mounted on the terminal. A transparent safety cover protected it. "This manual override will redistribute the power, allowing the others on the bridge to fly the ship."
Ben looked at the switch, then back at Spock. With a small frown, he nodded. "Okay. I guess I could do that. But where would you be?"
Spock drew a slow breath. "I'm afraid Nero's lieutenant didn't just shut down the energy production in their warp core. He also misaligned the housing chambers for deuterium and antideuterium."
Ben's eyebrows rose. "So we just...realign them, right? That should take care of it?"
"Yes, it should." Spock paused. "Unfortunately, the mechanism for aligning the housing chambers was sabotaged by Ayel before you could stop him."
He gestured toward the nearby mechanism where the three green disruptor bolts had struck a few minutes prior. It was a wreck. The large mechanical lever that had presumably controlled the alignment system had been reduced to a twisted, partially melted mass of metal.
Ben slowly turned back toward Spock. "What exactly are you saying?"
Spock's expression became resolute. "I will have to go inside the warp core and realign the housing chambers manually."
Ben stared at him. "You plan on going in there?" He gestured toward the enormous warp core. "Isn't it filled with tons of deadly radiation?"
Spock nodded. "It is. Unfortunately, there is no other way to restore power. If the ship crashes onto Vulcan, my people and my world will die. I will not allow that to happen."
He turned and began walking toward a small service hatch beside the warp core. The hatch was constructed from transparent aluminium and provided access to the machinery beyond.
Ben followed him. "If you go into that chamber, you will die. You know that, right?"
Spock stopped beside the hatch and started tapping a nearby console. "There is a very high probability of that, yes." The console beeped. The hatch mechanism began to cycle. "However, the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, or in this case, the needs of the one."
The hatch opened.
Ben stared at the opening for a moment. Then he quietly nodded. "...I agree."
Spock turned toward him, looking as though he intended to say something. Ben raised his hand. A flash of magic struck Spock before he could react. The Body-Bind Curse took immediate effect.
Spock froze where he stood, every muscle locking in place. His body began to topple forward. Ben caught him before he could hit the deck.
"Just as you would agree that since I'm the one wearing any actual armour here, it makes more sense for me to go in there."
He carefully carried Spock back toward the terminal and lowered him into the chair. He fastened the safety restraints around the Vulcan, securing him firmly in place. Spock's eyes followed him, filled with unmistakable urgency. Ben gave him a reassuring look.
"I didn't put much juice in the spell, so you should regain bodily functions soon. Once I have realigned the housings, redirect power back to the ship."
Ben stepped away from the terminal. "Good luck, Mr. Spock."
Ben walked toward the open hatch. He stopped at the entrance, took a deep breath, and muttered to himself, "And good luck to me."
Stepping inside, he tapped the control panel beside the hatch, and the transparent aluminium door slid shut behind him. A few metres ahead was another hatch, this one constructed from thick metal and heavily reinforced, clearly designed to protect the rest of the ship from whatever lay beyond it.
Ben glanced at the nearby control panel. He couldn't make heads or tails of the Romulan writing displayed across it. And there wasn't much point in trying to decipher it now.
"Let's see..." Ben raised a hand. "Alohomora."
The unlocking charm took far more effort than usual. Magic seemed sluggish in the presence of the warp core's tremendous energy. The spell fought against the interference for a few seconds before, finally, the locking mechanism released with a metallic clunk.
The hatch opened. Ben crossed through and immediately turned back.
"Colloportus."
The door sealed behind him. Ahead lay a narrow Jefferies tube.
Ben lowered himself onto his hands and knees and began crawling. Doing so while wearing full armour was difficult enough under normal circumstances. Inside the Narada's cramped passageway, with the ship continuously shaking beneath him, it was far worse.
At least the armour provided some protection. It had been fabricated primarily from Vibranium and Mithril, materials that were much more resilient than anything Ben was likely to find in most Starfleet equipment. Whether that protection would be enough against the radiation inside the warp core was another matter entirely.
Ben pushed the thought aside. He wasn't trying to be a hero, no matter how much it might look that way. He was simply being pragmatic.
In a way, this entire situation was his fault. Ben had always believed in the old adage—Struggle breeds Strength. If someone wanted to rise above the masses, they had to be willing to do what others wouldn't in order to achieve what others couldn't. That was what made heroes so rare—and so necessary.
And that was precisely why Ben had never tried to steal the show whenever he could help it.
During his time in Arda, he hadn't tried to take on Smaug by himself. He hadn't attempted to destroy Azog's army single-handedly. He had given the dwarves, elves, and hobbits of Arda the opportunity to become the heroes they would need to be to defend their world after he was gone.
The same principle had guided him here. He had tried to give the crew of the Enterprise the opportunity to become the heroes they would need to be when the other threats arrived. Khan. The Klingon War. The Romulan War. And everything else that would eventually come their way.
Except this time, his noble intentions had backfired. And now, six billion lives were at risk.
If Ambassador Spock had entered the warp core, he would almost certainly have given his life to fix a mistake Ben had helped create.
He couldn't let that happen. That's why he had to be the one to do this.
Besides, there was another reason. Kirk had entered the Enterprise's warp core under similar circumstances in a future Ben had once witnessed. He had absorbed a lethal dose of radiation and survived long enough for McCoy to save him using a serum synthesized from Khan's augmented blood cells.
Ben didn't know exactly how extensive Khan's augmentations were, but he was willing to bet they weren't better than his own. If Khan's enhanced cellular regeneration and recovery could allow Kirk to survive exposure to the radiation of a warp core, Ben was hoping that his own magically enhanced body—and his armour—could do the same.
It wasn't much of a plan. But it was the best one he had.
Ben crawled onward. After a while, he reached the end of the passageway. He pulled himself through an opening and emerged into the warp core chamber.
The chamber was enormous. Circular and vertically oriented, it rose far above him, its curved walls wrapping continuously around the central machinery. Heavy metallic plating covered almost every surface, interspersed with heat-dissipation panels, exposed conduits, mechanical housings, inspection ports, and countless illuminated indicators.
The entire chamber was bathed in a deep-blue glow. Thin white-blue light strips ran horizontally and diagonally across the walls, while numerous small clusters of red indicators were embedded within circular housings.
At the centre of the chamber stood the reactor assembly. Several large rounded metallic modules surrounded its central structure, each covered with access plates, inspection covers, sensors, and indicator lights. The spherical modules converged around what appeared to be a set of central vertical reactor columns.
Massive black flexible conduits emerged from the spherical reactor housings and disappeared into the walls and surrounding machinery. Some were extraordinarily thick—almost the width of a human torso. Smaller metallic pipes and dense bundles of cables ran alongside them.
A warning suddenly flashed across Ben's HUD.
WARNING: DANGEROUS LEVELS OF IONISING RADIATION DETECTED.
Ben dismissed the warning with a thought. Almost immediately, a radiation gauge appeared in the corner of his HUD, divided into green, yellow, and red zones. The indicator was already well beyond the safe green region.
Ben realised that he didn't have time to admire the scenery. He needed to reach the housing chambers as quickly as possible. He tried to activate the flight systems in his armour.
Nothing happened.
He tried again. The suit rose perhaps two inches from the deck before immediately dropping back down.
"Come on..."
He tried once more. Nothing.
Ben sighed. He tried to cast a flight spell instead. That fared even worse.
The immense concentration of exotic energy surrounding the warp core made it almost impossible to form the spell properly. His magic seemed to scatter before it could take shape.
Ben stared at the reactor. He would have to do this the Muggle way. He looked around for a service ladder or a walkway.
Nothing.
Ben sighed again. Left with no other option, he began climbing.
He grabbed hold of the nearest pipe and hauled himself upward. From there, he reached for a structural support, then another pipe, then a metallic housing farther above.
The deeper he went into the reactor assembly, the denser the machinery became. Thick black conduits surrounded him. Smaller metallic pipes crossed his path in every direction. Cables and mechanical components filled almost every available space.
At times, the machinery surrounded him so tightly that he had to reach around and between individual components simply to find somewhere to place his hands.
Thank God for his enhanced strength and durability. Without them, the climb would have been absolutely hellish.
But even his enhanced body had limits. The radiation was beginning to take its toll. Ben's breathing became increasingly laboured. Heat built beneath his armour. Sweat dampened his face. His body began to feel heavier.
His movements became slower, more sluggish. His hands didn't feel quite as steady as before. His coordination began to deteriorate, and a strange sense of disorientation crept into his mind.
Ben glanced at the radiation indicator in the corner of his HUD. The gauge had moved firmly into the red zone, warning him that exposure levels were now dangerously high. Inside the armour, the temperature was slowly rising as its environmental systems struggled to compensate for the intense heat. More concerningly, some of the magical protective enchantments woven into the armour had begun to degrade under the sustained radiation.
Ben shook his head. He couldn't stop. Six billion lives depended on him. Men, women and children. An entire world. He couldn't afford to fail. Not here, not now. He had to see this through.
Ben gritted his teeth and kept climbing. Eventually, he reached the section he needed.
The reactor's central cylindrical mechanism consisted of two enormous mechanical assemblies—one suspended from above and another rising from below. The two assemblies were supposed to meet in perfect alignment. At present, the lower column was misaligned by approximately twenty degrees.
At the tips of the two columns, reactor energy flickered in brilliant blue-white pulses. The two points seemed to reach toward one another, repeatedly flashing as though attempting to establish a connection but unable to align.
Ben stared at the lower housing. He knew what he had to do. He moved toward it, placed both hands against the massive mechanism and pushed.
Normally, this would have been a piece of cake. At this moment, however, his limbs felt like jelly. The radiation had drained him badly.
Ben took another laboured breath. He tightened his grip. His muscles strained. He pushed with everything he had left.
"YAAAARRRGGGHHHH!"
The column slid into alignment. A brilliant surge of blue-white energy erupted between the tips of the two housing columns.
The sudden discharge threw Ben backward. He was launched away from the reactor assembly and crashed heavily onto the deck below.
For a few seconds, Ben simply lay there. He had done it. The reactor was working. He watched it through the haze clouding his vision.
He rolled onto his side and tried to stand. His legs refused to cooperate.
"Come on..."
Ben pushed himself upright. The chamber spun and he nearly collapsed again. He forced himself toward the opening in the wall and began crawling. Eventually, he reached it and pulled himself inside.
The Jefferies tube seemed much longer on the way back. Every movement hurt. Every breath was an effort. His body protested against every attempt to move forward.
But he couldn't stop. Not yet.
Reaching the inner hatch, Ben raised a trembling hand.
"Alohomora."
The lock released. He pulled himself through the opening and immediately sealed the hatch behind him.
He crawled forward on his hands and knees. The outer hatch was only a few metres away. Beyond the transparent aluminium, Ben could see two figures. Ambassador Spock was standing there, and beside him was Kirk.
Spock appeared to be physically restraining the younger man. Kirk was pounding against the hatch. His mouth was moving. He was shouting something. Ben couldn't hear him through the thick barrier, but the expression on Kirk's face told him enough.
Ben smiled at the clear concern written across the young man's face. Kirk was fast becoming a friend.
Ben reached the hatch and tried to stand. His legs gave way. The last of his strength finally deserted him.
He collapsed onto the deck with a faint smile still on his face. As consciousness slipped away, there was only one thought in his mind.
Mission accomplished.