Star Trek - NF - 005 - Martyr

by Peter David

 

  Very quietly, Prime One replied, "I hardly think that you, of all people, are qualified to spout lessons on the danger of domination, oh fallen Lord Cwan."

 

  Si Cwan's face darkened slightly, and he said, "Actually, I beg to differ. I think I am eminently qualified. After all, who knows better of the hazards of dictatorship than a fallen dictator?"

 

  Through the distance of space, the two of them stared at each other for a long moment.

 

 

 

  "Calhoun is no threat to you," Si Cwan said at last.

 

  "Perhaps you are right," Prime One said.

 

  Several members of the bridge crew let out sighs of relief.

 

  "But then again, perhaps you are wrong," continued Prime One. "We cannot take that chance."

 

  Boyajian looked up from his sensors. "Lieutenant, they're going weapons hot!"

 

  "Red alert, sound battle stations," Soleta said, icy calm descending upon her. She was now faced with a worst-case scenario, and she had absolutely no choice but to try and see it through. In a way, it was almost a relief. Now she knew what she had to face. "Prime One," she said as she took one more try at the screen, "I must warn you once more We will defend ourselves if fired upon."

 

  "I would hope so," replied Prime One.

 

  "Calhoun is not aboard this ship!" Si Cwan called above the klaxon of the red alert. "You're accomplishing nothing!"

 

  "The ship is doomed anyway, for we would hardly want the vessel of a martyred captain cruising the spaceways, spreading word of his great deeds," reasoned Prime One. "If you are lying and the captain is on the vessel, then we have accomplished our mission. If not, and he is on the planet surface, then we will either redeem the planet orif it is irredeemable obliterate the populace as well. The infection of Calhoun worship will end, here and now. May Xant light your way to the next life." And the screen blinked out.

 

  "At least he gave us his blessing," McHenry commented.

 

  "Incoming!" called Boyajian. "High energy concentration plasma torpedoes! Locked on and tracking us!"

 

  ") if( !cssCompatible ) document.write("

 

  "Evasive maneuvers!" called Soleta.

 

  And McHenry promptly slammed the Excalibur

 

  into reverse.

 

  At high speed, increasing with every moment, the Excalibur hurtled backward on full reverse thrust, the torpedoes in hot pursuit.

 

  "Thirty thousand kilometers and closing!" called

 

  McHenry.

 

  "Locking on counters!" Boyajian said. "Keep us steady, McHenry! Just need another few seconds!"

 

  "Maintaining course and speed!" "Counter torpedoes locked on! Firing!" Photon torpedoes leaped out from underneath the ship, hitting the plasma torpedoes squarely. The explosion rippled outward, but the Excalibur gracefully

 

  sailed around it. "Redeemer vessel in pursuit," called Boyajian.

 

  "Orders, Lieutenant?"

 

  Soleta hesitated, unsure of exactly how to proceed.

 

  And at that moment, she heard the hissing of the turbolift door and a strong, if struggling voice, say, "I'll take this one, Lieutenant."

 

  Everyone on the bridge turned and reacted with similar astonishment, except for Soleta, who was well-trained enough to mask not only her surprise, but a vague sense of relief.

 

  Shelby was standing in the doorway. She was still clearly injured, and she was laboring to keep herself standing. Skin grafts had been attached to replace the areas where her face and body had been lacerated, but the healing process had only just begun. Nonetheless, Shelby forced her legs to carry her forward. "Commander?" gasped out Lefler. "I heard a red alert. We're in trouble. If you think I'm going to lie around in sickbay, you can forget it." She staggered, gripped the command chair, and eased herself in.

 

 

 

  "Commander, are you sure" asked Soleta.

 

  "No," Shelby told her. "No, I'm not sure. But I'm here, much to the chagrin of Doctor Maxwell, who's still on the verge of apoplexy that I walked out. So ... status report."

 

  "We are under assault by a warship belonging to a race known as the Redeemers. They are heavily armed and shielded, and have a stated intention of destroying us and, after that, Captain Calhoun. Orders, sir?"

 

  Shelby leaned forward. "Prepare to kick 'em to hell, Lieutenant."

 

  And Soleta came as close to smiling as she ever did. "All prepared, Commander."

 

  ") else document.write("

 

  "Evasive maneuvers!" called Soleta.

 

  And McHenry promptly slammed the Excalibur

 

  into reverse.

 

  At high speed, increasing with every moment, the Excalibur hurtled backward on full reverse thrust, the torpedoes in hot pursuit.

 

  "Thirty thousand kilometers and closing!" called

 

  McHenry.

 

  "Locking on counters!" Boyajian said. "Keep us steady, McHenry! Just need another few seconds!"

 

  "Maintaining course and speed!" "Counter torpedoes locked on! Firing!" Photon torpedoes leaped out from underneath the ship, hitting the plasma torpedoes squarely. The explosion rippled outward, but the Excalibur gracefully

 

  sailed around it. "Redeemer vessel in pursuit," called Boyajian.

 

  "Orders, Lieutenant?"

 

  Soleta hesitated, unsure of exactly how to proceed.

 

  And at that moment, she heard the hissing of the turbolift door and a strong, if struggling voice, say, "I'll take this one, Lieutenant."

 

  Everyone on the bridge turned and reacted with similar astonishment, except for Soleta, who was well-trained enough to mask not only her surprise, but a vague sense of relief.

 

  Shelby was standing in the doorway. She was still clearly injured, and she was laboring to keep herself standing. Skin grafts had been attached to replace the areas where her face and body had been lacerated, but the healing process had only just begun. Nonetheless, Shelby forced her legs to carry her forward. "Commander?" gasped out Lefler. "I heard a red alert. We're in trouble. If you think I'm going to lie around in sickbay, you can forget it." She staggered, gripped the command chair, and eased herself in.

 

 

 

  "Commander, are you sure" asked Soleta.

 

  "No," Shelby told her. "No, I'm not sure. But I'm here, much to the chagrin of Doctor Maxwell, who's still on the verge of apoplexy that I walked out. So ... status report."

 

  "We are under assault by a warship belonging to a race known as the Redeemers. They are heavily armed and shielded, and have a stated intention of destroying us and, after that, Captain Calhoun. Orders, sir?"

 

  Shelby leaned forward. "Prepare to kick 'em to hell, Lieutenant."

 

  And Soleta came as close to smiling as she ever did. "All prepared, Commander."

 

  ") if( !cssCompatible ) document.write(" XVIII.

 

  WITH A SNARL, Burgoyne ri
pped a chunk out of Ensign Janos.

 

  Janos roared in fury as his thick white fur quickly became blood-stained around his ribs. Burgoyne sank hir canines squarely into Janos's upper shoulder and, bracing hir feet against his upper chest, did everything s/he could to rip Janos's arm out of its socket.

 

  Furious, Janos grabbed Burgoyne by the back of hir uniform and pulled hir off him, losing some more fur in the process. He hurled Burgoyne across the rocky terrain, and Burgoyne slammed into an outcropping, momentarily stunned. Without hesitation, Janos lowered his head and charged, driving his horn straight at Burgoyne's chest. Burgoyne had been momentarily stunned, and hir vision cleared just in time to see the horn bearing down straight at hir. Just before Janos made contact, Burgoyne took a quick step forward and leaped high, somersaulting through the air and over Janos's head. Janos, unable to halt his charge in

 

 

 

 

 

  time, crashed into the rocky wall, chipping off some of the rock and some fur off his head as well.

 

  Janos spun, baring his fangs and howling his fury at Burgoyne. He charged after hir, the ground shaking under him. Burgoyne, had s/he been in hir right mind, would have run. Instead s/he maintained her ground to meet the charge. It was nothing short of suicidal, for the fangs of the enraged ensign were poisoned, and the slightest scratch from those frightening weapons would kill anyone even a Hermat chief engineer.

 

  Janos lunged, sweeping his right claw through the air. Burgoyne ducked under it, not even moving hir feet. S/he snarled derisively, and the move further enraged Janos. He swung a left, another right, just trying to get a grip on Burgoyne, but the Hermat was too quick. S/he maneuvered as if Janos were moving in slow motion. Quickly becoming fed up, Janos charged forward with his entire body. Burgoyne darted between his legs, taking a moment to sweep with hir talons across the upper portion of Janos's thigh. The ensign went down, howling, clutching at his leg. He didn't know how lucky he was. Burgoyne had been moving quickly, and if s/he hadn't had to hurry hir thrust and had, in fact, hit where s/he was aiming, Janos's scream would have been considerably higher-pitched.

 

  Burgoyne started to scramble to hir feet, and suddenly Janos hurled himself backward. He did so blindly, but he had a general sense of where Burgoyne was, and the move caught hir by surprise. All four hundred and fifty pounds of ensign landed squarely on top of hir, knocking the wind out of hir and pinning hir.

 

  Janos tried to reach around, find a part of hir that he could grab, get to his mouth, and chomp down on. The moment he accomplished that, the battle would effectively be over.

 

 

 

  ") else document.write(" XVIII.

 

  WITH A SNARL, Burgoyne ripped a chunk out of Ensign Janos.

 

  Janos roared in fury as his thick white fur quickly became blood-stained around his ribs. Burgoyne sank hir canines squarely into Janos's upper shoulder and, bracing hir feet against his upper chest, did everything s/he could to rip Janos's arm out of its socket.

 

  Furious, Janos grabbed Burgoyne by the back of hir uniform and pulled hir off him, losing some more fur in the process. He hurled Burgoyne across the rocky terrain, and Burgoyne slammed into an outcropping, momentarily stunned. Without hesitation, Janos lowered his head and charged, driving his horn straight at Burgoyne's chest. Burgoyne had been momentarily stunned, and hir vision cleared just in time to see the horn bearing down straight at hir. Just before Janos made contact, Burgoyne took a quick step forward and leaped high, somersaulting through the air and over Janos's head. Janos, unable to halt his charge in

 

 

 

 

 

  time, crashed into the rocky wall, chipping off some of the rock and some fur off his head as well.

 

  Janos spun, baring his fangs and howling his fury at Burgoyne. He charged after hir, the ground shaking under him. Burgoyne, had s/he been in hir right mind, would have run. Instead s/he maintained her ground to meet the charge. It was nothing short of suicidal, for the fangs of the enraged ensign were poisoned, and the slightest scratch from those frightening weapons would kill anyone even a Hermat chief engineer.

 

  Janos lunged, sweeping his right claw through the air. Burgoyne ducked under it, not even moving hir feet. S/he snarled derisively, and the move further enraged Janos. He swung a left, another right, just trying to get a grip on Burgoyne, but the Hermat was too quick. S/he maneuvered as if Janos were moving in slow motion. Quickly becoming fed up, Janos charged forward with his entire body. Burgoyne darted between his legs, taking a moment to sweep with hir talons across the upper portion of Janos's thigh. The ensign went down, howling, clutching at his leg. He didn't know how lucky he was. Burgoyne had been moving quickly, and if s/he hadn't had to hurry hir thrust and had, in fact, hit where s/he was aiming, Janos's scream would have been considerably higher-pitched.

 

  Burgoyne started to scramble to hir feet, and suddenly Janos hurled himself backward. He did so blindly, but he had a general sense of where Burgoyne was, and the move caught hir by surprise. All four hundred and fifty pounds of ensign landed squarely on top of hir, knocking the wind out of hir and pinning hir.

 

  Janos tried to reach around, find a part of hir that he could grab, get to his mouth, and chomp down on. The moment he accomplished that, the battle would effectively be over.

 

 

 

  ") if( !cssCompatible ) document.write("

 

  Moving quickly, fired by desperation, Burgoyne swung hir talons around and raked the side of Janos's face. Janos let out a yelp and Burgoyne quickly squirmed out from under the massive fury body, pulling hir legs clear and rolling frantically away.

 

  They faced each other, both crouched, their respective teeth bared, and they circled warily. Burgoyne's talons were poised, ready to strike again, and Janos was maneuvering around to try and find a suitable terrain so that he could charge again with his horn.

 

  And then something sounded within Burgoyne's mind. A voice . . . of someone who wasn't there.

 

  In sickbay, Selar's eyes snapped open. She moaned, trying to sit up.

 

  Maxwell saw it out of the corner of his eye and immediately summoned medtechs over. Selar was babbling incoherently, and Maxwell tried to make out what she was saying. Something about Burgoyne, something about monsters, and she spoke as if someone were standing right there next to her whom only she could see.

 

  "Sedate her!" called Maxwell.

 

  "No!" Selar said with what sounded startlingly like a growl. "No! Leave me alone! S/he needs me!"

 

  Burgoyne felt her. Felt her in hir mind, in hir heart. Felt her connection to hir.

 

  For just a moment, Burgoyne's mind cleared. The Excalibur evaporated, the assailants vanished, the laughing stopped . . .

 

  And there was Ensign Janos, charging toward hir with an undiluted roar of fury.

 

  "Oh, hell!" Burgoyne cried out, and s/he back-pedaled rapidly as Janos came at hir. Realizing that Janos was going to catch up if s/he continued to run

 

 

 

  backward, Burgoyne whirled and dashed at breakneck speed, arms pumping furiously. Dead ahead of hir was a solid wall of rock. Right behind hir was the infuriated mugato. Burgoyne picked up speed, ran as fast as s/he possibly could. Janos was right behind hir, propelling himself forward even faster with the aid of his knuckles.

 
;

  And the second that Burgoyne reached the rock wall, s/he ran right up the wall, hurling hirself up and over. As s/he cleared the top of Janos's head, s/he grabbed the horn. The mugato reached around, trying to get at hir, as Burgoyne landed, allowed hir momentum to carry her, and twisted forward and down with all hir strength. Janos was hauled back and over in a flip, slammed down to the ground.

 

  For just a moment, Janos was immobilized. With the blood lust upon hir, Burgoyne would have taken the opportunity to try and tear out Janos's jugular vein. But hir head was clear, and Burgoyne's hand stretched out, clamping onto the mugato's shoulder. Hir long fingers moved in perfect imitation of the way that Soleta had dropped hir with the nerve pinch.

 

  Janos let out a startled yelp. His body trembled for a moment, and then pitched forward. Burgoyne stepped back, still cautious, in case Janos was pulling some sort of trick. But s/he quickly realized that that wasn't the case; Janos wasn't budging.

 

  S/he felt heat beginning to build beneath hir feet, as if some sort of massive machinery was functioning beneath the ground. For a moment s/he considered picking up Janos and trying to lug him along, but quickly dismissed the notion as unworkable.

 

  "Good thing you were here to watch my back," s/he said, before allowing him to slump to the ground. Then s/he felt it again that same sensation that

 

 

 

  ") else document.write("

 

  Moving quickly, fired by desperation, Burgoyne swung hir talons around and raked the side of Janos's face. Janos let out a yelp and Burgoyne quickly squirmed out from under the massive fury body, pulling hir legs clear and rolling frantically away.