by Dayton Ward
This is the way it’s going to be? Fine.
“Bring us about,” snapped Khatami. “Return fire as soon as you’ve got a lock. Prepare for evasive, but I want to smack them across the mouth first.” She hated the idea of a fight inside the asteroid field, but the Klingons were not giving her any choice.
Before McCormack could even respond to the order, she and the rest of the bridge crew were forced to hold on as another salvo of torpedoes struck the Endeavour’s shields. The effects were more pronounced this time as the compromised defenses absorbed the second attack, resulting in more deck shifting and additional alarms sounding off around the bridge.
“Another hit to the rear deflectors,” said Klisiewicz. “They’re at forty-two percent.”
Stano, now holding on to the back of McCormack’s seat, said, “We’re coming around.”
“Fire as soon as you have a shot.” Khatami smacked her chair’s intercom control. “Bridge to engineering. What’s with our shields?”
Over the open channel, the Endeavour’s chief engineer, Lieutenant Commander Yataro, replied, “There is an issue with the aft shield generators, Captain. The asteroid field appears to be having a disruptive effect not dissimilar to what is occurring with the ship’s sensors. We are rerouting power to compensate.” Despite the obvious tension enveloping the current situation, the Lirin maintained his normal composed, even detached demeanor. “May I suggest presenting another profile to our adversary?”
“Thanks for the tip, Mister Yataro. Just get those shields squared away. Bridge out.”
Khatami closed the connection just as Neelakanta released a barrage of phaser fire toward the Klingon cruiser. On the main viewscreen, twin beams of bright blue energy lanced across space, striking the enemy vessel’s shields.
“No significant impact,” reported the navigator. As he fired a second time, the warship banked to its left, gliding past the viewscreen’s right edge while releasing another pair of torpedoes. Then the screen itself flickered and static distorted the image in response to the latest impact against the Endeavour’s shields. To his credit, Neelakanta kept pouring it on, tracking the Klingon ship with the phasers even as the other ship moved away.
Klisiewicz said, “They hit the port shields this time. Moderate damage to the Klingon’s defenses.”
“Adjust your course, helm.” To emphasize her point, Stano reached past McCormack and tapped one set of status indicators. “Put our aft shields facing this larger asteroid.” Looking over her shoulder to Khatami, she added, “Trying to buy Yataro some time. We can route power from there forward.”
Khatami nodded. “Do it.” At least now the Endeavour was protecting its compromised rear defenses, but she did not like the idea of staying inside the asteroid field any longer than was absolutely necessary.
“They’re coming around again,” called Klisiewicz. “Looks like they’re setting up for another strafing run.”
“Fire phasers,” ordered Khatami.
Neelakanta’s aim was true and the viewscreen depicted multiple phaser strikes against the Klingon ship’s forward shields. Then Khatami saw at least one hit on the cruiser’s primary hull. The warship’s immediate response was to alter course, banking upward and disappearing out of the screen’s frame.
“Did we get through?” asked the captain.
“Looks like a hit near their forward disruptor bank.” Klisiewicz looked up from his scanner. “They’re not retreating, but they’re giving themselves more maneuvering room than they had before.”
Before Khatami could respond, every light and console around her flickered, and there was a pronounced droning sound indicating an abrupt interruption in power to the bridge. Everyone looked up from their stations, glancing to the overhead or to Khatami or each other with mirroring expressions of confusion and concern. The effect was fleeting, and when it faded it left a litany of new alert and status indicators flashing across the room.
“Did we get hit again?” Khatami asked, already knowing the answer.
It was Klisiewicz who confirmed her suspicions. Hovering over his sensor readouts, the science officer said, “Scans are registering a new energy reading. It’s not like anything I’ve seen before, but it’s having a disruptive effect on the shields as well as other onboard systems.” After a moment, he added, “Captain, I’m picking up similar reactions from the Klingon ship. Whatever this is, it’s affecting them as much as it is us.”
“I think they might be worse off than we are,” replied Stano, and Khatami turned to see her first officer pointing to the main viewscreen. The image there depicted the enemy cruiser appearing to deviate from its intended flight path and now on a course deeper into the asteroid field.
Klisiewicz called out, “All of their primary systems appear to be offline. I’m not picking up any activity in their engines. They’re drifting on momentum alone, and… they’re on a collision course!”
No one else on the bridge said anything, all of them instead watching as the Klingon warship drifted toward one of the larger asteroids.
“Tractor beam?” asked Khatami. She considered the disparity of offering assistance so soon after exchanging hostile fire with the other vessel, but Starfleet training and values demanded she look past the previous action. What was once an adversary now required aid if she was able to provide it.
As if in response to her question, every bridge station and monitor chose that moment to blink or shut down. Some of the screens at different consoles returned, their images indicating their internal systems were resetting, while others remained dormant. Even the lighting diminished, casting the bridge into partial darkness before emergency illumination activated.
“What the hell is going on?” asked Stano.
“Continued disruption to systems across the ship, Commander,” replied Klisiewicz. “Whatever it is, it’s definitely external but not the result of our fight with the Klingons.” Looking up from his instruments, the science officer stared at the screen. “Dear god.”
Khatami rose from her chair, moving around Neelakanta’s navigation console in time to watch the Klingon warship drift ever farther from the Endeavour. From this angle it looked as though it was plummeting toward a planet, and it was almost out of sight before she saw the impact on the asteroid’s surface. With no atmosphere, the resulting explosion was over almost before it began. Then the viewscreen was forced to lower its lighting levels as the cruiser’s impact site disappeared in a blinding flash Khatami recognized as resulting from the ship’s warp core detonating. The explosion’s effects faded, leaving only an immense crater scarring the asteroid’s dull face.
“Any signs of escape pods, shuttles, or anything else that might indicate survivors?” she asked, unable to tear her gaze from the screen.
Consulting his sensor readings, Klisiewicz said, “Nothing, Captain.”
Punctuating his report was another round of alerts as different stations around the bridge suffered the effects of whatever odd disruption was wreaking havoc on the Endeavour’s systems. Khatami turned from the viewscreen and eyed her helm officer.
“McCormack, get us out of here. Maybe this will clear up when we’re out of the field.” To Klisiewicz, she said, “What’s causing this?”
The science officer shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s a localized effect, but the sensor readings are so muddled I can’t even tell if it’s a natural phenomenon or something artificial.”
A new alarm sounded around the bridge, followed by the voice of Commander Yataro erupting from the intercom.
“Engineering to bridge. We are suffering a number of system disruptions, including the antimatter containment systems. If we are unable to arrest the problem, the ship is in very real danger of an uncontrolled matter/antimatter collision explosion.”
“In nonengineering jargon,” said Stano, “we’re in big trouble.”
Khatami asked, “What about backup systems? They can’t all be affected?”
The chief engineer replied, “Und
er normal circumstances I would agree with you. Our current circumstances appear to defy normality.”
A new string of alarms sounded on the bridge, this time originating from the engineering console. With nothing else requiring her immediate attention, Stano moved to the station and consulted one of its small status screens. Even from this angle, Khatami saw the string of warning messages, all displayed as bright red text.
“According to internal scans,” said the first officer, “the disruption is affecting the warp engines. Yataro’s right. This is going to get very bad very fast.”
The Endeavour shuddered around her. Across the bridge, everyone on duty looked up from their consoles, casting frowns and expressions of worry as the omnipresent hum of the starship’s warp engines changed pitch as though struggling to maintain operating at their normal reliable efficiency.
“Bridge,” called Commander Yataro over the still open intraship channel. “Antimatter containment systems are continuing to deteriorate. We cannot arrest the condition. I estimate four minutes until total failure.”
Stepping away from the engineering console, Stano eyed Khatami. “Captain,” she began, but said nothing else. Instead, the first officer simply shook her head.
Khatami drew a long, deep breath as though that might be enough to steel her for the next frantic moments she and her crew were about to face.
“Commander,” she said, waving to Stano. “Initiate disaster-buoy prep procedures.” Moving to her command chair, she tapped another control on its arm.
“This is the captain. All hands to evacuation stations. We’re abandoning ship.”
Seven
The image on the conference table’s three-sided viewer faded and the lights in the briefing room came up. Sitting with his hands clasped together as they rested on the table, Kirk exchanged glances with Admiral Nogura, who had said nothing since the meeting began. He remained silent as Kirk regarded the faces of his senior officers. To his right and positioned next to the table’s computer interface, Spock sat with his arms folded across his chest. As always, his composed Vulcan demeanor masked whatever emotional response he may have had to the Endeavour’s log recording. Across from Kirk, Leonard McCoy reclined in his chair and rested his right forearm on the table. He was tapping the table in absentminded fashion with his fingers as his gaze lingered on the now deactivated screens. To the doctor’s right, Montgomery Scott shifted his attention from the viewer to Kirk.
“The Endeavour, gone?” The engineer shook his head. “That can’t be right.”
“Its loss will have marked impacts on Starfleet’s ability to defend Federation security interests,” said Spock. “I suspect this, along with the loss of the Defiant last year, will also complicate Starfleet’s plans to modernize the Enterprise and other remaining Constitution-class starships.”
Frowning, McCoy added, “Losing the crews of those ships has impacts as well, Mister Spock.”
“You are quite correct, Doctor,” replied the Vulcan, “and it was not my intention to imply otherwise. The loss is significant both to Starfleet as well as the families of both crews.”
McCoy appeared mollified by the first officer’s comments, if only for a moment. “Are we certain all hands were lost when the Endeavour was destroyed? This log came from the disaster buoy, which was launched before the ship exploded. Is there any chance any of the crew was able to avoid that after all?”
“According to the sensor readings taken by the buoy after its launch,” replied Spock, “it recorded the overload of the Endeavour’s warp engines. This information was received by Starfleet Command via encrypted subspace message burst.”
“So, you’re sending us to look for survivors?” asked McCoy. His brow furrowed as he considered his own question. “You’re obviously hoping one or more of these covert agents is still alive. Did the buoy record any launching of escape pods or shuttlecraft?”
“There’s something else you gentlemen need to know,” said Kirk. “The log you just watched along with the rest of the sensor data recorded by the buoy was transmitted with the expectation it would be intercepted and possibly decoded by the Klingons or someone else.”
Scott replied, “Aye, that’s to be expected, sir, especially given where the Endeavour was when all of this happened, and if anyone knew why she was there.”
For the first time since entering the room to take his seat next to Kirk, and after having sat as still and silent as a statue, Nogura moved. Shifting in his chair, the admiral leaned forward, laying his hands atop the conference table.
“We’re unable to confirm if anyone within the Klingon Empire was aware of the Endeavour’s retrieval mission. Further, we don’t know for certain whether the agents’ presence on Qo’noS was detected prior to their rather hasty departure. Given the nature of the message sent by Morgan Binnix, she believed she and her companions were about to be exposed. We certainly can’t rule out their vessel being tracked to the border, particularly when considering how quickly Captain Khatami and her crew found themselves under fire. There’s always the possibility that it was just a chance encounter by a vessel patrolling their side of the border, but the Klingon captain’s willingness to cross into nonaligned territory suggests they at least suspected something untoward might be afoot.” Nogura paused, then nodded to Kirk.
“Captain Khatami fully expected the Endeavour’s movements to be tracked by those parties,” said Kirk, “including someone following up to verify whether the ship was actually destroyed as its log indicates. This makes the mission Admiral Nogura’s given us that much more important, and to say time’s of the essence would be a criminal understatement.”
His expression and body language wavering not one iota, Spock said, “The Endeavour was not, in fact, destroyed.”
Instead of being surprised, Kirk could only offer a small, wry grin. He had expected his first officer to see through the intricacies of the little mystery handed to him by Nogura. Indeed, Spock had figured it out in record time even for his incomparable deductive reasoning skills.
For his part, Nogura seemed unfazed by the Vulcan’s blunt statement. “You are correct, Commander. The Endeavour’s log buoy contained an additional, highly encrypted message from Captain Khatami, which only I was able to decode using retinal identification after it was received by Starfleet Command. According to the good captain, the entire crew, along with the agents they retrieved, is alive. The crew was able to separate the ship’s primary hull from the engineering section and maneuver to a safe distance before the warp engines failed. They used the resulting explosion as cover to maneuver the saucer section deeper into the Ivratis asteroid field. Their present position is unknown.”
“Into the field?” asked Scott. “That’s a mighty bold proposition with just the saucer section to provide power to deflector shields and maneuvering thrusters. What about the impulse engines?”
Nogura replied, “The damage the ship suffered during its skirmish with the Klingon cruiser made it difficult if not impossible for it to exit the area in order to effect any sort of rendezvous, so Captain Khatami opted to use the asteroid field as cover while awaiting rescue. We’ve received no further reports, but the message sent to me contains a cipher for what I believe is a means to extract additional information from the Endeavour’s disaster buoy, which has not yet been retrieved.”
“What about the crew?” asked McCoy, who was now leaning forward in his chair. “Do we know how they’re doing?”
Shaking his head, Nogura said, “We only know that all hands were successfully evacuated to the saucer section before it separated from the rest of the ship. There was no information about casualties sustained during their fight with the Klingon cruiser, but I can’t imagine Captain Khatami not mentioning it if they had any critical injuries. So, while we appear to have that going for us, it doesn’t mean this isn’t a time-sensitive operation.”
“Given the circumstances of the agents’ departure from Qo’noS,” said Spock, “it is logical to presume som
e among the upper echelons of Klingon leadership at least suspect they were infiltrated. However, I would think it was a matter they would want kept confidential to the greatest extent possible.”
“That’s my thinking too,” replied Nogura. “And I’m hoping that translates to them restraining themselves so far as what they do to investigate what may have happened. It would be most embarrassing for it to become public knowledge that Starfleet operatives were embedded within their government and military leadership for such an extended period.”
Kirk added, “If these agents are captured and broken during what would surely be a protracted and very painful interrogation process, the entire operation could be exposed. It would give the Empire the reason it needs to declare war against the Federation.”
Uncrossing his arms, Spock clasped his hands before his chest. “I am familiar with certain Klingon interrogation techniques. I was able to withstand the worst of their effects thanks to my Vulcan physiology and mental discipline. It is logical to assume a similar approach would be employed against subjects of such perceived value as these agents. Given that these agents are human, I do not believe they, even if they are able to draw upon whatever training they have received to endure interrogation and even torture, would fare well against the full onslaught of such a procedure.”
“So that’s something we’ll want to avoid,” said McCoy, making no effort to hide his displeasure at the thought of being subjected to such treatment.
Scott asked, “What about the ship? The buoy’s message included something about the asteroid field’s disruptive effect on the Endeavour’s deflector shields and other systems. I know they couldn’t determine with any certainty whether it was a natural phenomenon or something else, but I have to say I’m leaning toward it being ‘something else.’ The only thing I’m going on is the science officer’s report that the effect did not start until they’d already been in the asteroid field for some time.”
