Errand of Fury Book 1

by Kevin Ryan

  Duras was shaking in his fury, a vein bulging in his forehead. “I am a member of the High Council.”

  “And I know my duty to the empire. I will serve my captain until it is clear that he is no longer fit to command this ship. Then, and only then, will I make a challenge. And when I do, I will owe nothing to anyone.”

  The councillor reached for the d’k tahg at his side.

  Karel smiled at that and flashed a challenge with his eyes. His blood was boiling, and he welcomed the opportunity to teach this sniveling liar something about honor. Duras saw some of that in Karel’s face and stayed the hand at his side.

  “You have made a mistake, a very dangerous mistake,” Duras said. Then he turned and headed out the door.

  Karel was certain that he had made an enemy of the councillor. And he had no doubt that Duras was a very dangerous enemy to have. Yet, if he sat on the High Council, then there truly was great danger to both the empire’s future and its honor.

  A warrior may be known by the enemies he keeps, Kahless had said. Karel found that he was proud to know that Duras was now his enemy.

  Chapter Twenty

  U.S.S. ENTERPRISE

  STARBASE 56

  2267

  KYLE AND SCOTT saw off the last group of the station’s engineers. Only Steele, her aide, and two other technicians were left. Steele handed Scott a final report on the upgrades. “Thank you for your patience and your indulgence, Mister Scott.”

  “Thank you for everything you’ve done for the Enterprise. She’s stronger now, more ready,” the chief engineer said.

  Kyle saw something in Scott’s eyes. Steele must have seen the same thing. She put a gentle hand on his arm. “She is stronger, Mister Scott, because of people like you and people like us.” She gestured to her own staff. “These changes are progress. Think of them as practice for the refits we talked about. You think she’s been refitted for one purpose, for war, but she hasn’t, not really. The Klingons respect strength, and they will have plenty to respect about the Enterprise. The changes are just progress. And progress isn’t good or bad—for us, it’s just inevitable.”

  “Aye,” Scott said. Then the two engineers shook hands. Something passed between them—something Kyle couldn’t see but he could definitely feel in the air. Steele took her position on the transporter pad as Scott took the transporter controls.

  “Good-bye and good luck to you and the crew,” Steele said. Then Scott activated the transporter beam. Steele, Anthony, and the two technicians disappeared a moment later in a burst of energy and light.

  Later, Kyle would think about the way the two engineers had said good-bye, the things they had said and the unspoken things that had passed between them. Then he finally put his finger on it. They hadn’t looked like two engineers talking about a collection of systems, components, and circuits, they had looked like parents talking about a child they were sending off into the world.

  Kirk could hear Spock receiving final status reports at his station. “All stations report that they are ready for departure,” Spock said finally.

  Kirk nodded. It had been just over eight hours. Scott was as good as his word, as usual. A moment later, Scott and McCoy came through the turbolift doors. Scott took his position at the engineering console, and the doctor took his place beside and just behind the command chair.

  “Mister Scott, all systems show ready,” Kirk said.

  “Aye,” the chief engineer said.

  “Mister Sulu, clear all moorings.”

  A few seconds later, Kirk heard the dull metallic clank that told him the Enterprise was disengaging herself from the starbase’s umbilicals and power cables. A few seconds later Spock said, “All moorings are now clear.”

  Uhura said, “We are receiving a hail from the starbase.”

  “Audio only,” Kirk said, wanting to keep his eyes forward.

  Then a voice Kirk recognized came from the comm system. “Captain Kirk, this is Commodore Zier,” the voice said. “I just wanted to wish you luck. The Enterprise will be in all of our thoughts.”

  “Thank you, Commodore. We appreciate that,” Kirk said. Their departure had been so sudden that there had not been time for the usual formalities and the customary departure visit with the station commander. With so little time to prepare, Kirk had been unwilling to leave the ship. Yet Kirk could tell there were no bruised feelings there, only genuine concern.

  “Godspeed,” Zier said.

  “Thank you, sir. Kirk out. Mister Sulu, all ahead. Thruster speed.”

  “Thruster speed, aye,” Sulu said. Then the lieutenant’s fingers danced over the controls and the forward section of the starbase seemed to fall back as the Enterprise moved forward. After a few seconds the last of the dock’s gleaming struts and supports disappeared as the front of the ship hit open space.

  Their mission was dangerous, and there was a high likelihood that the Enterprise would soon be tested—for the first time ever in her history—in a full-scale war of unknown duration. These were dark days for the Federation, which was facing the greatest threat to its existence since Kirk was a freshly minted officer. He had gotten his first taste of battle then and had decided that if he never saw it again, it would be soon enough.

  Yet he had seen it again, every time hoping that it would be the last. Once more unto the breach, he thought. Or into the darkness. The darkness that had swallowed too many of his crew in the last few months. The darkness that had swallowed Sam Fuller and left a grieving father trying to find meaning in a senseless death.

  Too many grieving fathers, too many grieving families.

  “We are clear of the dock,” Spock announced.

  “Ahead, one-quarter impulse,” Kirk said.

  “One-quarter impulse, aye,” Sulu acknowledged.

  The hum and vibration of the ship changed as the impulse engines engaged. “Accelerate to full impulse and prepare for warp speed on my mark,” Kirk said.

  “Accelerating now,” Sulu replied.

  Kirk remembered his excitement as a new cadet shipping out on his first training mission. It was a smaller ship, a less impressive dock, yet Kirk had been barely able to contain his excitement.

  A ghost of that feeling remained in Kirk now. The excitement. The possibilities of what they would find out there. Perhaps they would find an answer, a solution that did not require endless condolence messages to endless parents…

  …and wives…

  …and husbands…

  …and children.

  The Enterprise was stronger than she had ever been. And the crew was ready. Kirk knew that he was ready for whatever was required of him. Ship and crew would give their best, and they had to succeed because, this time, if the darkness came, it might very well swallow everything.

  Fuller did not watch the Enterprise’s departure from Starbase 56. It was the first one in his career that he had missed, he realized. Instead, he had invited Ensign Parmet to the gym for more training.

  Parmet had taken to the new, aggressive fighting style better than Fuller had expected. By all accounts, Parmet was a gentle, almost passive, person. Yet Fuller could tell there was something else at work behind Parmet’s eyes. When he fought, he did it from an inner well of…what? Anger? Pain? Grief? Fuller wasn’t sure and didn’t ask. Parmet was entitled to his secrets. Fuller was certainly keeping enough of his own.

  Parmet had worked hard and mastered some of the more difficult combinations that Fuller had taught him. And he was eager for more, but their workout had been cut short by a voice over the comm that announced, “All security sections to the recreation room.”

  The two men headed straight for the rec room, not even changing out of their workout clothes. They were among the first to arrive, and the room quickly filled with the rest of the security staff, some of whom had clearly worked the night shift and had been gotten out of bed.

  Giotto stood at the front of the room with Parrish and the rest of the security section chiefs. Their faces were serious, and f
or a moment Fuller wondered if the war had already begun. Giotto didn’t keep them waiting.

  “We have just received an updated report from Starfleet Intelligence. The Klingon vessel that is now heading at high warp speed for System 7348 is the D’k Tahg.” There was a quick collective gasp from the room and then silence.

  “For those of you new to the ship, the D’k Tahg was one of the vessels at Starbase 42. I know that many of you lost people close to you on that mission. We lost a lot of good people on that day. However, this mission is to monitor the situation on the planet and try to make sure that the Federation does not have another day like it. I trust that you all know and will do your duty, but I thought that you should know exactly who we will be facing.”

  Giotto paused for a moment and scanned the room, then he added, “See your section chiefs for your new drill and training assignments.”

  Fuller’s heart pounded loudly in his chest and, once again, blood raged in his ears. They wouldn’t just be facing Klingons, they would be facing the same Klingons who had killed Sam.

  “Sir?” Parmet said, looking at him with worry.

  Fuller was grateful for the ensign’s concern. It reminded him where he was. Fuller forced a smile and willed his body and mind to be quiet. He had succeeded, more or less, by the time Parrish arrived.

  Looking at her, Fuller remembered that her squad had been especially hard hit during the siege, losing not only the section chief, Sam, but almost all of the others. He saw something in her face, something he thought he understood.

  Whatever was in her eyes, her voice was steady as she said, “Get into your uniforms and go to the armory for training phasers. Then I want to see all of you on the shuttle deck in fifteen minutes.”

  Fuller didn’t hesitate. He headed for the door with Parmet on his heels. He found he was glad to have something immediate to focus on.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  U.S.S. YORKSHIRE

  DONATU SYSTEM

  2242

  ONCE HE HAD fully materialized on the transporter platform, Fuller felt full gravity for the first time in almost an hour. It felt odd and left him dizzy for a moment. The room was brightly lit and he had to squint after the darkness on board the remains of the Endeavour. Fuller oriented himself quickly and saw a young officer standing in front of him.

  The officer stepped forward and held out his hand. “Mister Fuller, I’m Lieutenant Justman.” Fuller shook the man’s hand, marveling that someone so young was an acting captain. Then he saw something in Justman’s eyes. Maybe he wasn’t old enough chronologically, maybe not by the book, but the man’s eyes told Fuller that Justman was more than old enough for the job—a job he must have gotten because something had happened to the ship’s captain.

  “I know you’ve had a rough time and I wish things were different, but I’m afraid that this fight is not over. Sensors show three Klingon ships headed this way. They will be here in less than an hour,” Justman said.

  “Any Starfleet vessels close enough?” Fuller asked. Justman shook his head. No.

  It seemed impossible. The destruction of two Klingon ships had taken the combined efforts of the Yorkshire and the Endeavour, which had not survived. The thirty-six survivors crammed into the transporter room and spilling out into the corridor deserved rest, a few moments of peace after all they had been through. However, it looked like the Klingons were determined to make sure that didn’t happen.

  To his surprise, Fuller found that made him angry. “What can I do to help?”

  “We’d all like to help,” Fitz said beside him. She was joined by a chorus of others.

  Justman nodded. “Who can brief me about what happened out there?”

  Fitz stepped forward. “Fuller was the one who freed us all from the cargo hold. He was also the one who blasted that Klingon cruiser out of space.” Fitz gave Fuller a look that bordered on awe and said, “He’s a hero. He saved us all.”

  Shaking his head, Fuller said, “Sir, we all fought. I’m no hero.”

  “Then you’ll have to do until one comes along. You’re with me, Mister Fuller,” Justman said. Then he addressed the group. “I won’t lie to you. We’re in trouble, but we’ve given the Klingons few surprises today. I say we deal them a few more.” A lieutenant walked in and then Justman said, “The rest of you check in with the watch officer, then report immediately to the head of whatever department you belonged to on the Endeavour. I also need volunteers for the salvage teams we need to retrieve components we can use from your ship. Wait here, and Chief Engineer Watkins will be along to organize you into parties.”

  As officers stepped forward, Justman turned to Fuller and said, “Come on. I need you in auxiliary control.”

  Auxiliary? Why wasn’t Justman commanding from the bridge? What had happened to the Yorkshire? The lieutenant read the question on his face and said, “The bridge took a direct hit during the battle. We lost the captain and the bridge crew.”

  For a moment, Fuller was too stunned to speak. That meant that Justman and whatever junior officers posted to the auxiliary control room had waged and won the battle after what should have been a crippling blow to the ship.

  Then Fuller made another realization. “It happened when your shields were down to rescue the people the Klingons blew into space.”

  Justman nodded. So the Yorkshire’s captain and bridge crew had given their lives to save Starfleet officers they didn’t know who had been tossed into space by the Klingons. Fuller realized that there had been real heroes here today, but they all shared one thing: they were all dead.

  So much sacrifice. So much courage. So many examples of people doing the impossible. And unless they produced a miracle, the three Klingon battle cruisers that were on their way would allow the Klingons to win the fight.

  They reached auxiliary control and stepped inside. Because the Yorkshire was an Icarus-class ship like the Endeavour, they were nearly identical, and if not for the strange faces at the auxiliary control stations, Fuller might have thought he was on board his ship.

  Justman introduced him to the officers there, and Fuller realized that none of them were much older than he was and no one in the room had a rank higher than lieutenant. And yet these young people had already done the impossible.

  Justman took status reports and issued orders. Then Fuller briefed him on what had happened on board his ship. The lieutenant listened and said, “Mister Heller, get Lieutenant Palumbo from security down here.” Turning to Fuller, he said, “I’ll need you to brief him on the Klingon boarding party tactics.”

  Fuller nodded. “Sir, I recommend that we avoid having the Klingons board us at all costs.”

  Justman looked at him for a moment and said, “Noted.”

  By the time Fuller had briefed the acting security chief, there was less than thirty minutes before the Klingons arrived. By then, the first salvage team had returned from the Endeavour.

  “I have something on long-range sensors, headed this way,” Acting Science Officer Parker said.

  “Another Klingon ship?” Justman asked. Parker seemed confused by her readings, and Justman approached her. “Is it the Klingons, Ensign?”

  “I don’t know…I don’t think so. In fact, this is impossible,” she said.

  “What is it?” Justman asked.

  “Whatever it is, it’s moving fast—warp six-point-five.”

  That was impossible, Fuller thought. But the science officer confirmed that it was true and that the ship was on an intercept course and that its origin was Earth. A moment later, there was a face on the viewscreen that Fuller immediately recognized.

  “This is Admiral William M. Jefferies in command of the starship U.S.S. Constitution, designation NX-1700. The people back at Command thought you could use some help out here.”

  A cheer went up behind him, and Fuller felt himself smiling. He knew about the Constitution, of course, the first vessel in a new starship class. It was supposed to be able to carry a crew of over two hundred, with
a very long range, faster engines, and labs to rival any at a starbase. The Constitution and her sister ships were the future of the fleet, but she was not due to launch for at least a year.

  A few minutes later, the Constitution appeared on the viewscreen. Fuller had seen pictures of the design, but it was much more impressive in person. It was more graceful than the Icarus-class ships, which had the same basic design but were stockier.

  “Five minutes until arrival of the Constitution, nine until the three Klingon ships are in weapons range,” Parker said.

  “Recall all salvage parties now,” Justman said to the acting communications officer. “I want everyone back on board.”

  A moment later, the admiral’s face was back on the viewscreen. “Mister Justman, what is your status?”

  “We have full power to the weapons, eighty-five percent shields. Sir, is the Constitution ready to fight?” Justman asked.

  “We don’t have any weapons on board at the moment, but we have new shields that it would take more than three Klingon ships to breach. And this ship has a few surprises in her. Our security station is establishing a link to your tactical command now.”

  “I have it,” the young man at the weapons station said.

  “Do you think we can warn the Klingons off?” Jefferies asked.

  “I don’t know, sir. When they attacked the Endeavour, they had a two-to-one advantage. I don’t know what they will do when faced with our current situation,” Justman said.

  Jefferies nodded. “If it comes to a fight, I’ll be depending on your weapons. Keep the Yorkshire moving and use us for cover.” Then Jefferies gave an order to his communications officer and said, “The Klingon ships are not responding to our hails. I’m afraid this is not over yet, gentlemen. Jefferies out.”

  “Parker, give me full magnification,” Justman said.

  A moment later, Fuller saw three small silhouettes that he recognized. The Klingon battle cruisers were coming at them in attack formation, and Fuller was suddenly sure there would be no discussion. In minutes, the Klingons would start a fight and within the hour it would all be over.