by David Mack
His meaning was implicit: The Voh’tahk’s sensors could not penetrate the Homghor’s shields. They had no way of knowing what was transpiring aboard their escort ship. Kang stroked his goatee. “Is the Homghor on an attack vector?”
“Negative.” Mahzh switched to a tactical analysis screen. “They should have the Starfleet ship on their sensors, but they are not moving to engage.”
Something was wrong on the bird-of-prey; Kang was certain of it. But was it something that would sort itself out given time? Or was it a catastrophe in the making? He had a hunch he knew the answer—but if he was wrong, loyal soldiers of the Empire might die at his hands.
Unfortunately, if he was right, those loyal soldiers were dead already.
• • •
No one had laid a hand on Durak, but he was pinned to the deck as if he had been run through and staked down by half a dozen spears through his torso. Excruciating sharp jabs twisted in his gut, and he heard his ribs crack under his skin as they surrendered to the constant, overwhelming pressure from a vise he couldn’t see. He wanted to roar out his pain and fury, but he couldn’t draw enough breath to make a sound.
Nimur and her cadre had surrounded him. Their sea-green faces gazed down at him as he squirmed at their feet, helpless before their telekinetic assault. To the Klingon’s jaded eye they looked like scrawny children who would flee in tears from the least aggression, and here he was, humbled by them, writhing in agony and utterly helpless.
His pulse thudded in his ears, and the pressure in his temples made him delirious. He was sure that at any moment his heart would burst, or his lungs would collapse, or the novpu’ would tire of killing him by degrees, and he could finally give up his hold on his broken flesh and begin his journey to Sto-Vo-Kor. Death in battle would be a fitting end to his life’s pursuits, he decided; it would let him face his ancestors without shame. His only regret would be that he had failed to slay any of these filthy Ha’DIbaHpu’ in the bargain.
The pressure abated. Nimur made a lifting motion with her hand, as if she were a puppeteer pulling invisible strings that controlled Durak’s body. His limp and abused form levitated off the deck and hovered before the woman-child with eyes of fire. “We have shown you only a small taste of the horrors we can inflict upon you, Captain. How do we use this ship to make you and your kind leave us alone?”
Durak struggled to draw a breath. As soon as he had filled his lungs with air, he used it all to spit a mouthful of blood into Nimur’s face. He grinned and laughed, and then he coughed hard enough to send fresh blades of pain through his flailed chest. He couldn’t help but be her prisoner, but he was determined not to become her pawn.
She wiped his spittle from her cheeks and forehead, then smeared her hand dry across the front of his uniform. “I admire your spirit. You do not grovel like your kinsmen on the planet.”
Before he could ask what she meant, the fingers on his left hand bent sharply backward at each knuckle, one by one. By the time his thumb splintered in two easy snaps, Durak was howling loudly enough to shake the Homghor’s bulkheads. His reddened vision cleared after seconds that felt like a lifetime, and he looked down at the mangled atrocity of his hand. It felt unreal, as if he were looking at something far removed from himself; he was going numb.
Not numb, he corrected himself. Into shock. Stay in the moment. Take the pain. He tried to follow his own advice, but it was too much to overcome. He couldn’t breathe.
Nimur made a circular gesture with her index finger, and Durak’s body slowly spun around to face the main viewscreen. A tactical schematic had been superimposed over the image of the planet. Automatic threat-detection software built into the ship’s sensor apparatus was tracking the Starfleet ship, which was coming into range, and standard-issue IFF—identify friend or foe—systems had flagged the Voh’tahk as an allied Klingon vessel.
The Tomol female’s breath caressed his ear as she asked in a whisper, “What is that?”
Durak was determined to remain silent, no matter how many of his bones she crushed. Then he felt a sickening pressure in his groin, coupled with a half-twist of his loD’HIch, and his courage failed. “Our ship can sense when others are near. The one circled in red is our ally. The one marked by a white triangle is an enemy.”
“Can your ship destroy its enemies?”
“If properly commanded.”
“Show us how.”
He coughed out another mouthful of blood. “It would take too long. My men trained for years to run this ship, and they were born warriors. I can’t teach you what they knew.” The congestion in his chest worsened. Each hacking cough grew wetter and rougher. He felt fluids pooling in his lungs. It would be only a matter of time before he drowned in his own blood.
One of the male novpu’ whispered something to Nimur. She listened until he finished, and then she turned a skeptical stare toward Durak. “You could pilot this ship alone.”
“Not for long.” He lifted his forearm to block his next coughing jag and spluttered a spray of blood across his sleeve. “Without my engineers, the ship will break down, and I won’t be able to fix her. Without my crew, I’d—” He stopped himself from revealing the functions of the ship’s autopilot, but not before he had teased its secret. He cursed his loose, foolish tongue.
Nimur turned him around again to face her. “Without them, you would what?”
“Die.”
“You’ll die anyway, Captain. The only question is how soon, and in how much pain. I know that’s not what you were going to say. Tell me how to control this ship with no crew.”
He lifted his chin and forced out a rasping growl of defiance.
His right foot spun backward. The wet crack of his ankle breaking in half a dozen places was drowned out by his primal roar of outraged pain.
The alien witch smirked at him. “There’s no point in lying to me, Captain. I can see the colors of your mind change when you speak. I’ve learned the hues of truth and deception.” She lowered her voice to a whisper that was hot against his face. “I will ask you again, and for your own sake, I urge you to tell me the truth. How do I control this ship without a crew?”
“You don’t. You go down in flames, shrieking like the be’yIntagh you are.”
Durak’s left arm jerked down and separated from his shoulder socket with a crunch and a pop. Then the pressure in his groin went from uncomfortable to horrific. Half of what he had hoped might be spared was crushed beyond recovery. Waves of nausea pushed through him, and he vomited all he had eaten in the last half day onto the deck between himself and Nimur.
His last ounce of strength was spent. His will to resist had collapsed.
Nimur lifted his drooping head and looked into his half-open eyes with her orbs of flame. “I am not without mercy. Give me what I want, and I will consider letting you go back to your people alive, and with all your broken pieces still attached. But if you defy me again, I will take you apart, one tiny piece at a time, and make you dine on your own flesh. Now, Captain”—she pinned him against the forward bulkhead—“show me how to control this ship!”
• • •
The landing party’s news was even worse than Terrell had feared. “You’re sure it was a transporter effect? Is it possible they just broke off pursuit?”
Theriault’s reply left little room for doubt. “Hesh is positive, sir. It showed all the telltale signs of a Klingon transporter effect. And to be honest, I don’t think there’s anything else on this planet that would have made them stop chasing us except for that.”
“All right. Check in when you reach the rendezvous point. We’ll pick you up as soon as we’re clear. Sagittarius out.” He signaled Chief Razka to close the channel, then just as quickly added, “Hail the Voh’tahk again. Tell Captain Kang it’s urgent.”
The Saurian slow-blinked, a behavior Terrell had come to recognize as the reptilian’s equivalent to a long-sufferin
g sigh. “Aye, sir. Hailing the Voh’tahk. Again.”
“Taryl, where’s Kang’s ship now?”
The Orion woman updated the sensor readout. “Holding position above the rings.”
“And the bird-of-prey?”
“Dead ahead below the rings, sir. She circled the planet on an intercept course.”
Terrell beckoned Sorak away from the aft console to stand at his side. “We were scrambling the cruiser, so the bird-of-prey must have beamed up the Tomol from the surface.”
The Vulcan gave a slight nod. “Yes, sir. That stands to reason.”
Several worst-case scenarios were unfolding in Terrell’s imagination. “If they’re all developing powers like Nimur’s, we can’t risk them leaving the planet.”
“I would be forced to agree, sir. Extreme measures might be called for.”
“How long until the Endeavour gets here?”
Sorak knew the answer without checking the chronometer. “Eight minutes, ten seconds.”
It didn’t sound like long, but Terrell knew that a lot could happen in far less time than that. “As of now, our top priority changes from hindering the cruiser to containing the bird-of-prey. Helm, set a pursuit course. Taryl, let me know as soon as we’re in weapons range.”
Razka reacted to a change on the communications panel. “Sir, I have Captain Kang.”
“On-screen.” Terrell stood from his command chair as the image on the main viewscreen switched to show the imposing, swarthy visage of the Klingon starship commander.
Kang’s words were laced with condescension and disgust. “What do you want?”
“I have reason to suspect your escort has beamed up some very dangerous passengers.”
“They are trained to deal with such threats. Your concern is unnecessary.”
Terrell took half a step forward. “Actually, Captain, I think it’s more than warranted.”
“And why do you think that?”
“My scout team reports that the natives undergo some kind of transformation, one that—”
“You have a scout team on the surface?”
Terrell bristled at being interrupted. “Yes. As I was saying—”
“The Klingon Empire has claimed this world as a protectorate.”
“If so, you forgot to tell anyone else, which is the same as not doing it at all.” The captain took a breath to calm himself, lest he aggravate the already tense situation. “Regardless, we’ve observed an alarming change that occurs in members of the native population when—”
“We are aware of this biological phenomenon. What of it?”
Could the Klingon be this obtuse? Or was he just being an obstructionist because it amused him? Terrell wondered if there was any way to make Kang see reason. “Captain, my team tells me your bird-of-prey beamed up nearly a dozen of those transformed aliens.”
Kang’s eyes widened at that news. “Did you say nearly a dozen?”
“Yes, Captain. And correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t the complement on a bird-of-prey approximately two dozen officers and crew? Do you think your escort’s crew is up to this fight?”
The Klingon simmered but refused to concede rhetorical defeat. “We have the situation in hand, Captain. You’re to treat this as an internal Klingon matter and stand down.”
Taryl interrupted the commanders’ conversation. “Sir? The bird-of-prey is increasing speed to full impulse and changing course.”
“Prepare for evasive maneuvers and—”
“Sir, they aren’t attacking—they appear to be breaking orbit.”
Terrell threw an accusatory look at Kang. “Is that part of your grand strategy, Captain?” Kang turned away from the conversation to snap orders under his breath to his officers. Rather than wait for the Klingon’s reply, Terrell decided it was time to act. “Helm, pursuit course, full impulse. We need to corral that ship back to the planet and force them down, right now. Taryl, target their shield generators, then their engines.”
Sorak sidled up to Terrell. “Captain, if we break away from the rings, we’ll be—”
“I’m aware of the risks. But we can’t let the Changed escape with a starship.”
“Understood, sir.” The old Vulcan stepped away to assist Taryl.
On-screen, Kang’s anger took a turn for the volcanic. “Captain! Cease your pursuit!”
“Can’t do that, Captain. I think you know as well as I do that you’ve lost control of one of your ships. Since you won’t rein it in, you leave me no choice but to do it myself.”
The Klingon’s mien took on a diabolical cast as he stepped forward, making his face fill the entire screen. “This is your last warning! If you fire on a Klingon ship, I will destroy you!”
“You’re welcome to try. Sagittarius out.” A slashing motion of Terrell’s thumb cued Razka to close the channel. Terrell returned to his command chair and sat down. “Here we go.”
Moments later the hull rumbled from the first salvo of disruptor blasts fired by the Voh’tahk. Taryl clutched the sensor console and answered with forced calm, “Shields holding.”
“That was a warning shot,” Terrell said. “The next one won’t be. Lock phasers.”
Taryl keyed in the command and tensed for battle. “Locked.”
Terrell had committed his crew to a sacrifice play, and he knew there would be no turning back. He could only hope they would still be standing in seven minutes when help arrived. Until then, he would do what had to be done.
“Ensign: Fire at will.”
21
“Keep trying to raise the Homghor,” Kang snapped at Kyris.
The communications officer wisely avoided eye contact with Kang and kept her focus on her console and displays. “Still no response, Captain.”
A cat-and-mouse game played out on the viewscreen. The bird-of-prey veered away from the planet, as if it meant to leave orbit; the Sagittarius emerged from the debris rings and pursued the Homghor, which responded with evasive maneuvers. That was proof enough for Kang that Captain Durak and his crew were no longer in control of their ship. “Helm! After them! All ahead full. Mahzh, charge all weapons. Target both vessels and fire at will.”
The weapons officer turned his lanky frame toward Kang. “Captain?”
“You heard me. Destroy them both.” His repetition of the unusual order prompted wary looks from his senior officers. He was not in the habit of explaining himself or justifying his orders to his subordinates, but given their predicament, he made an exception. “Durak is a blowhard, but he would never run from a battle. The Homghor has been captured, probably by those novpu’ it beamed up. We can’t let them escape with an Imperial starship.”
Mara moved quickly to his side. “Are you sure that’s the only option? We could send over a boarding party to retake the ship.”
He scowled at the image of the fleeing vessel. “Mahzh said it himself—their shields are up. Until they drop, we can’t beam over, and we can’t take remote control of their computer.”
Mahzh remained unsettled. “Captain, what if the Homghor’s crew is still alive?”
“If they are, they’re either prisoners or traitors. Either way, death is their reward.”
Doubts plagued the weapons officer. “But if we knock out its shields, we can access its computer. I could run a command override and trigger the ship’s intruder countermeasures.”
“And if these novpu’ are immune to nerve gas? Then what?”
His debate with Mahzh seemed to kindle a spark of hope in Mara. She rested her hand on Kang’s arm, a gesture more in keeping with her role as his wife than as his first officer. “We could vent the Homghor’s atmosphere into space. I don’t care how powerful these creatures are—the last time we checked, they still needed to breathe something.”
“We don’t have time to pull our punches, Mara. The Federation ba
ttle cruiser is only minutes away. I want this dealt with before they arrive.” He noted with satisfaction that Ortok had carried out his orders and accelerated into a pursuit course. The Voh’tahk was only moments from optimal firing range on both the Sagittarius and the Homghor. Now all Kang needed was for the rest of his officers to perform their jobs as well as the helmsman had done.
Mahzh sat down and scanned the Voh’tahk’s two targets. “The Sagittarius is opening fire on the Homghor,” he reported. “The bird-of-prey is continuing evasive maneuvers.”
Kang watched Mara, whose keen eyes observed the battle between the two smaller ships. Had she witnessed the same telltale clue he had just noticed? “What do you see?”
“Those aren’t the maneuvers of a skilled helmsman.” Her gaze narrowed. “That’s the work of the autopilot system.” Her mood darkened. “You’re right. They’ve lost their ship.”
Being right about the fate of the Homghor gave Kang no pleasure. “The novpu’ robbed Durak and his crew of honor. We will give it back to them.” He smiled as he watched the scout ship pepper the Homghor’s shields with another volley of phaser fire. “Best of all, the Starfleeters will take the blame. As long as we keep their battle cruiser in check, we might yet coax a victory from this wretched day. Mahzh! Do you have a targeting lock yet?”
“Negative. Both ships are moving too quickly for a hard lock.”
Kang took a few seconds to study the smaller vessels’ flight pattern. Both ships were pushing their impulse engines into overdrive, accelerating them to more than half the speed of light. He could only imagine the strain being inflicted on their inertial-dampening systems. He called up a tactical profile on his command monitor and relayed it to Mahzh’s station. “Set the torpedoes for spread pattern Qib’HoH and use the disruptors to limit their maneuvering options.”
“Yes, Captain.” Mahzh armed the Voh’tahk’s disruptors and torpedoes. Moments later, the first salvo launched from the nose of the battle cruiser, followed moments later by several sweeping blasts from its twin disruptor cannons. Searing flashes of light erupted on the main viewscreen as Mahzh declared, “No direct hits. Minor damage to both ships.”
