The Brave and the Bold Book Two

by Keith R. A. DeCandido

  “Aye, sir,” the Trill said.

  “When will we arrive?” Klag asked.

  “Six hours, ten minutes at warp nine,” Vralk said.

  Klag looked at his first officer. “Impress upon Commander Kurak the need for warp nine-point-eight. And have the cloaking device standing by.”

  Tereth smiled. “Of course, Captain.”

  As the first officer headed for engineering, Riker said, “You’re gonna beat us there by a couple of hours, Captain. More if your first officer is a good impresser.”

  “She is,” Klag said with a grin.

  “Our chief engineer is something of a wiz himself, so it might be less. We’ll see.”

  “We will,” Klag said, trying not to smile at Riker’s use of the word wIj. Somehow, he didn’t think Riker meant to say that the Enterprise chief engineer was a farm. “But I’m sure our mighty vessel can handle one Starfleet runabout without your aid. We shall see you there.”

  “Indeed,” Picard said. “Enterprise out.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  KIRA NERYS GATHERED EVERY BIT OF WILLPOWER she possessed and instructed her right arm to touch the control on the runabout console before her that would bring the St. Lawrence out of warp and discontinue its journey to the former DMZ.

  Her right arm remained where it was.

  I will not succumb to this.

  Once, two years earlier, Kira had willingly allowed her body to be a vessel for the Prophets in order to aid in the coming about of the Reckoning. But she had spent her life in devotion to the Prophets and was more than happy to give herself over in service to them.

  She was considerably less willing to do so for a ninety-thousand-year-old tyrant.

  It had started on the way back from a committee meeting at the Chamber of Ministers. The Defiant had returned from its mission to Trill, so Kira had left Vaughn in charge while she went through her least favorite chore: chatting with politicians.

  The meeting started an hour late, went on for two hours longer than it should have, and accomplished absolutely nothing of substance. Mentally exhausted and physically restless, Kira boarded the Rio Grande, looking forward to a very long bath.

  So when she found herself changing the runabout’s course toward Klingon space, she was rather surprised.

  That surprise increased when she tried to stop herself, but her body no longer responded to any mental directives. As she got closer to her destination—Narendra III, based on the course she’d laid in—her control lessened. Even such simple functions as blinking and swallowing were out of her purview.

  She remembered the Malkus Artifact that Orta had found six years ago, of course, and had heard that another one was found in the DMZ a few months later, though she had chosen not to dwell on it much in the ensuing years. Thinking of that just reminded her of the Odyssey and its crew, and of sitting helpless in the Orinoco while she watched a Jem’Hadar ship do a suicide run into the Galaxy-class vessel’s deflector dish, annihilating both the ship and its crew.

  Kira hated being helpless.

  With every fiber of her being, she fought Malkus’s influence.

  With every fiber of her being, she failed.

  Yet, she kept trying, even as Malkus had her get into the St. Lawrence—the runabout that had brought Ambassador Spock to Narendra—and take it to the former DMZ to try to locate the missing piece of the third artifact. Kira had no idea why she had been sent in this ship rather than the one she had arrived in—perhaps Malkus couldn’t tell the difference between the two ships, which were, after all, virtually the same.

  The runabout came out of warp in an area of interstellar space. It was here that the Hood and the Voyager had first detected the third Malkus Artifact on the Maquis ship Geronimo, and it seemed as good a place as any to start the search.

  Except Kira didn’t wish to search for the component. She wished to open a hailing frequency, to bring the St. Lawrence to DS9 and then take the Defiant to Narendra III, along with any other ship she could corral, and blow Malkus into his component atoms with the Defiant’ s considerable weaponry.

  She gathered every bit of willpower she possessed and instructed her right arm to touch the control that would open a hailing frequency.

  Her right arm moved toward the comm panel.

  I’ve done it! Kira thought with surprise. She opened a channel.

  Then she tried to talk, but found that she could not.

  However, even opening the channel was a small victory. It would serve as an additional beacon to her location, and maybe—just maybe—someone would notice. Of course, given what this region of space was like these days, that “someone” could be anyone from a clappedout Cardassian military ship limping on its last antimatter pods to Yridian privateers to Ferengi merchants to civilian supply ships. But getting in touch with anyone was a bonus at this point. Someone needed to be informed about what Malkus had done on Narendra.

  Then a sensor alarm went off. She looked up to see a Klingon vessel decloaking.

  No! They’ve found me! Malkus had apparently sent one of the Klingon ships in orbit around Narendra to tail her under cloak, and stop her if she threw off Malkus’s control.

  That doesn’t make sense. Why not send them in the first place?

  Look at them. That’s one of those new Chancellor-class ships. That would draw a lot more attention than a little runabout. Malkus probably kept it around in case of emergencies.

  Stop talking to yourself and do something!

  Kira raised the shields and armed the phasers. She did that, not Malkus. Another victory. She also recognized the ship: the I.K.S. Gorkon, commanded by Captain Klag. She directed her hail to them—but she was still unable to make her voice work.

  Well, the hell with it—it’s not like I have anything to say to them anyhow.

  She fired phasers.

  Then the ship hailed her. “Attention runabout. This is the I.K.S. Gorkon. If you do not lower your shields immediately, we will fire upon you.”

  Gee, Klag, thanks for the warning.

  Wait a minute. Why would they give a warning? That doesn’t make sense.

  She tried to lower the shields, but this time she couldn’t. Malkus was attempting to reassert his control.

  You’ve spent enough time in my head. Get out!

  Then the Gorkon fired on her.

  She had no idea if it was her will or Malkus’s that made her take evasive action, and ultimately it didn’t matter. The one goal she and Malkus shared was a desire to keep her body intact.

  However, her maneuver came too late. The blast didn’t penetrate the shields, but reduced them to a mere ten percent.

  She continued the evasive maneuvers, laying down covering fire.

  Covering fire, right. I’m about as overmatched here as our old Bajoran sub-impulse raiders were against Cardassian warships.

  Then again, we beat them eventually.

  After several decades.

  I have got to stop talking to myself.

  The Gorkon fired again, though this time with a beam at a much lower power level. It was just enough to wipe out the runabout’s shields.

  They want me alive.

  Why do they want me alive?

  She got up and went back to the aft compartment to get a phaser.

  As she did, her mouth almost fell open from the shock. “How did I—?”

  Then she grinned. She had control of her movements and her voice. She could still feel Malkus’s presence in her mind, but it was not as strong. Maybe he’s got limits. Maybe I’m out of his range. Or maybe I’m just better than him.

  “Whatever,” she said aloud, reveling in her ability to do so once again. “There’s no way I’m letting him take me back.”

  The next step was expected. She felt a transporter beam start to envelop her. It was neither the raw pins-and-needles sensation of Deep Space 9’s Cardassian transporter nor the gentle vibration of a Federation transporter. In fact, it didn’t feel like much of anything.

&n
bsp; A moment later, she was standing in a darkened room full of Klingons, all pointing weapons at her. She counted five aiming at her, with another one behind the transporter console. She didn’t recognize any of them, but the one time the Gorkon had been to DS9, Kira had met only the ship’s captain.

  Kira pointed her own phaser at the tall one who moved toward her as she materialized. “You’re not taking me back to Narendra.”

  This seemed to confuse the Klingon, whose hair was waist length and in a series of intricately tied braids. “You have been to Narendra recently?” The Klingon had a surprisingly pleasant voice.

  This did confuse Kira. “You didn’t follow me from there?”

  “I’ve never even been there, Colonel. Now lower your weapon, or I will order my people to open fire on you. Disruptors do have a setting that leaves the victim alive, but it is not nearly as—bloodless as your Federation’s ‘stun’ setting. I do not recommend it.”

  Kira hesitated. It could be a trick, she thought. But then, what possible reason would this Klingon have to trick her?

  She lowered her weapon. “How did you find me?” she asked, noting that, though the lead Klingon did likewise, the other four did not.

  “The captain can explain that.” He touched the communicator on his wrist. “Lokor to bridge. We have the Bajoran.”

  “Bring her to the wardroom,” came a deep male voice that Kira recognized as Klag’s.

  Lokor nodded to the quartet of warriors, who finally lowered their weapons. Then he turned to Kira. “Come with me.”

  Klag sat in the wardroom and listened to Kira Nerys’s tale. With him were Tereth and Toq and, on the viewscreen, Picard, Riker, and Data. Upon learning that Kira had come from Narendra III, Klag had immediately had Vralk set a course for that planet. Once the St. Lawrence was taken on board and placed in the Gorkon’ s shuttlebay, they proceeded at warp nine-point-eight, with instructions to Commander Kurak to attempt a greater speed.

  The Enterprise was, of course, alerted, and they too had changed course. Indeed, they had only been twenty minutes away when Klag had contacted them. “Told you our chief engineer was a wiz,” Riker had said with one of his human grins.

  “One last thing,” Kira said after telling her story. “Malkus couldn’t control the entire planet, and the ships in orbit, so he had a large chunk of the population imprison themselves somewhere. Once Captain DeSoto started putting the artifacts together, Malkus gave the prisoners the disease that the first artifact gave off. If we don’t get back to Narendra soon, those prisoners will die.”

  There was a pause. Finally, Picard said, “You did well, Colonel.”

  “Thank you, Captain, but it wasn’t easy. If you don’t mind my asking, how’d you find me?”

  “The St. Lawrence was listed as officially missing,” Tereth said. “You were sighted by a Starfleet ship that couldn’t stop to investigate. When we arrived we found a Bajoran in a runabout last known to have a Klingon, two humans, and a Vulcan/human hybrid.”

  Riker smiled. “Needless to say, that set an alarm bell or two off.”

  “I can—” Kira hesitated, then shook her head. “Dammit. I think Malkus is starting to reassert himself.”

  Toq said, “The only tales of Malkus using this artifact involve him controlling people on a world where he was present. His range may not extend this far.”

  “Bajor is farther from Narendra III than the region where Colonel Kira was found,” Data said.

  “Yeah, but I wasn’t fighting him tooth and claw on Bajor,” Kira said grimly. “He caught me off guard. I may have just worn him down.”

  “Earth is even farther away, yet Captain DeSoto was sufficiently enthralled to steal the artifacts,” Data added, sounding nonplussed. Klag had heard that the android was emotionless, so this almost petulant tone was something of a surprise.

  Tereth bared her teeth. “While I am sure he is a fine leader, Captain DeSoto is not a warrior.”

  Klag nodded. Unlike Klag, Tereth had never met Kira, but they both knew her reputation.

  “And for all we know,” Picard said, “DeSoto is fighting control just as hard.” Klag smiled at Picard’s attempt to come to the defense of his friend. “Such speculation, however, is irrelevant for the moment. Colonel, how many ships are defending Narendra III?”

  “I’m not sure. At least three were in orbit when I took the St. Lawrence out, but there could have been more. And there was a civilian ship. I wasn’t exactly in a position to do a full scan. But all those ships were under Malkus’s control.”

  “Understood. Captain, I suggest we rendezvous at the Narendra system’s Oort cloud. We can survey the system from there, then plan our next move.”

  Tereth cast a disdainful glance at the viewer. “There is only one next move, Picard—to attack this Malkus and destroy him, so we can rescue those he has enslaved and cure those he has infected.”

  “Yes, but Picard is right,” Klag said. “We need to reconnoiter before charging in.”

  “Of course,” Tereth said, conceding the point.

  “Have you made any progress regarding the sensor readings, Captain?” Klag asked.

  “No.” Picard spoke with a certain amount of annoyance.

  “Nor have we, though Lieutenant Toq has, at least, eliminated several possibilities. We will send you what we have done so far.”

  “We will do likewise.”

  “Good.” Klag stood up. “We are due to arrive at Narendra in seven hours. We shall speak again then. Gorkon out.”

  Kira stood up as the viewer went blank. “Captain, I think it might be best if I was sedated in your medical ward.”

  “You anticipate Malkus reasserting his control?” Tereth asked.

  “He might. And if he does, he’ll know everything I know. That’s too much of a security risk, if we’re going to catch him off guard.”

  Klag considered. “A wise move. My physician is, of course, not available,” he said with a wry smile, “but I’m sure her nurse can handle so simple a task as administering a sedative.” Klag opened the door to the wardroom and said to one of the guards posted outside, “Take the colonel to the medical ward and have Nurse Gaj attend to her.”

  The guard nodded and Kira headed toward the door.

  As she reached the threshold, Tereth said, “Colonel?”

  Kira turned around.

  “Should we live through this, I would be honored if you would share a drink with us. There is a song you might wish to hear.”

  Kira frowned. “Really?”

  “We do not often immortalize our defeats, but—after the war, a song was written called ‘The Battle for Deep Space 9.’ It was about Gowron’s failed attempt to take your station four years ago. The third verse is primarily about you and the way you slew ten warriors in your operations center while mortally wounded.”

  Kira gave her an odd look. “Actually it was only five, and the reason it wasn’t more was because the fifth one stabbed me, but—” She broke into a smile. “Thank you, Commander. I look forward to hearing it.”

  Toq also stood up. “With your permission, Captain, I will transmit data to the Enterprise and see if theirs is of any use.”

  Klag dismissed him with a nod. Once he departed, Klag was left alone with Tereth. She had a look on her face that Klag had learned to recognize over the past few months. He was also quite sure that Tereth herself didn’t realize that Klag could read her so easily. “You are concerned?”

  Tereth looked up suddenly in surprise. Klag hid a smile.

  “Picard is known for many things,” she said after a moment’s hesitation. “Warfare is not among them. In single engagements, he has performed well, but—I am not sure how useful an ally he will truly be if we have to go into battle against multiple Defense Force ships.”

  “I think,” Klag said, “the person who twice drove back Borg invasions of the Alpha Quadrant and liberated Betazed from Dominion control is someone I am proud to have by my side.”

  “He turned back
the Borg because he used their assimilation of him against them—that is not an advantage he will have today. He liberated Betazed with the aid of four other vessels, including that warship of theirs, the Defiant.” Before Klag could respond to that, Tereth held up a hand. “I’m not saying he is not a worthy ally, Captain, but I do think that you should take the lead.”

  Klag stared at his first officer for several seconds. He wondered if she was attempting to curry favor with him or if she truly believed what she said. Or, perhaps, both. She had been a superlative first officer—though anyone would have been an improvement on Drex—but she also had far more ambition than Klag was always entirely comfortable with.

  “Perhaps you are right,” he finally said. “But Picard has been commanding starships since before either of us was born. I would no more presume to lead him into battle than I would Chancellor Martok. However,” he added, standing up from his chair, “I will not defer to him, either. This mission has been a cooperative effort from the beginning. If we learned nothing else from the war, Commander, it is that a united front is strongest.”

  Tereth smiled. “Which applies to arms as well as battles, it would seem.”

  Frowning, Klag asked, “What do you mean?”

  “You just rose from the chair without stumbling, Captain. Congratulations.”

  Klag turned around and stared at the chair. He hadn’t even thought about it. He was too busy focusing on what he was saying to Tereth….

  He threw his head back and laughed. Then he turned to his second-in-command. “May it be the first victory of many this day.”

  The second time B’Oraq awoke from unconsciousness in Klag’s shuttle was much worse than the first. For one thing, where McCoy had apparently gently laid her on the QongDaq, whoever their latest attacker was had simply tossed her unceremoniously onto the deck of the fore compartment. For another, this time the headache extended to her feet.

  Once again, she awoke to Ambassador Worf’s face, and once again he asked, “Are you all right, Doctor?”

  “No. My head feels like a targ’ s running loose in it. What happened?”