STAR TREK: TOS - Errand of Vengeance, Book Two - Killing Blow

by Kevin Ryan

  Kell’s squad gasped in surprise at the news. The Klingon did as well, but for a different reason. He could not believe that the humans knew of the Empire’s plan when so many Klingons did not.

  He noted that chiefs Fuller and Brantley did not react, which told him they already knew.

  “This is highly classified information and I am personally authorizing your new clearance to hear it. Starfleet believes the conflict to be inevitable unless the current political climate changes. Further, Command believes the attack will begin seven months from now. Secrecy is important, because the diplomatic corps is still trying to diffuse the situation,” Kirk said.

  Seven months. So the humans knew things that even I do not, Kell thought. Yet the time frame fit what Kell knew and could guess.

  “We now believe,” Kirk continued, “that the incident [91] in System 1324 was part of a Klingon plot to use Orion agents to test Starfleet response and capabilities. We further believe that the Orions’ mining operation in System 7348 is there to provide dilithium crystals for the Klingon war effort.”

  Kell was stunned and was barely able to keep his face composed. No, his mind screamed. It is impossible.

  All Klingons did not all follow Kahless’s path to honor, but the Klingon people had their principles, just as the humans did. They did their own fighting. They did not hide behind tricks and subterfuge. Yet even as the thought formed in his mind, the Klingon realized that his presence on the Enterprise proved that false.

  The Empire had abandoned many of its principles to give him a human’s face to fight the Federation from within. If that was possible, anything was possible.

  Even as the Klingon searched for ways to refute what Kirk was saying as human deceit, his blood told him that the true deception was much nearer to him.

  The captain spoke for a few minutes longer and Kell managed to retain most of what he said.

  Then Sam Fuller spoke. “I’m afraid that I will not be able to go with you,” he said, which shocked Kell out of his reverie. In its own way, it was as surprising as what Kirk had said.

  “I’m afraid that Dr. McCoy has grounded me for another two weeks. Section Chief Brantley will accompany you on this mission,” he said. The chief did not look pleased, but Kell was forced to admit that he also did not look well. That notion shook him again.

  So much of what he believed had changed since he had come on board the Enterprise. He had learned that [92] humans had honor. And he had learned that there was more dishonor in his own Empire than he had ever seen before.

  Yet he had found some new things to believe in as he saw Kahless’s spirit alive in the unlikely group of humans around him.

  Foreboding rose in his blood and a fear for himself that he had never felt before. Kell sensed that he would lose something more valuable than his life on this mission. He was suddenly certain that he would lose his honor, and that it would happen very soon.

  While a Klingon warrior did not fear the consequences of a just battle, he knew that this battle was far from just. He found that his only satisfaction came from the fact that Sam Fuller would not see what would transpire on the planet.

  A hand reached out and grabbed Karel as he walked along the corridor. His training took over immediately and he barely kept himself from striking Second Officer Klak.

  “I have a duty for you,” Klak said.

  “I am due in my disrupter room,” Karel said.

  “Not anymore. I have assigned your relief officer to this cycle,” the second officer said.

  Karel’s blood called out a warning. His relief officer was more ambitious than he was capable. He would see an additional shift as a further cementing of his position. Karel had no doubt that the officer would be challenging him soon.

  A direct challenge did not concern him. Yet Karel knew that not all challenges were direct. Indirect [93] assaults were the tools of a weaker foe—dishonorable, but all too often effective.

  And Karel had too much to accomplish before he died. He had yet to see his disrupter room blast Earthers to oblivion. He had yet to take his revenge.

  “I need you on the bridge as my personal guard,” Klak said flatly. The second officer invited no dispute and Karel offered none.

  The second officer had given him the truth about his brother’s murder at the hands of the humans. He owed the Klingon something and Karel’s family paid their debts, whether they were due in service or in blood.

  When they arrived on the bridge, Commander Koloth was the only Klingon to note their arrival and shoot him a brief look from his weapons station. Karel looked with interest at the weapons console. It showed the status of both the port and starboard disrupter rooms, as well as surveillance images from each room.

  Knowing he could not take time to indulge his curiosity now, Karel followed Klak to his station. The second officer’s position was just behind the captain’s chair, which was the most forward position on the bridge, or the ship for that matter. That way, the captain was the first to enter battle, or to face danger, or to seize a victory.

  Klak sat in front of his console, which gave him immediate access to all major systems, as well as surveillance for—as far as Karel could tell—all areas of the ship. No wonder that Klak had seen Karel’s fight with M’bac on the day of his promotion to senior weapons officer.

  “Your first time on the bridge?” Klak said, though he already knew the answer. No officer of Karel’s rank would be allowed on the bridge, unless he was a [94] technician or the personal guard to either the captain or the second officer. There was an insinuation in Klak’s question, and though Karel did not immediately understand Klak’s intimation, he did not like the indirect communication.

  In the end, he simply answered the question. “No.”

  “An ambitious warrior could learn much,” Klak said. “And I think you will be particularly interested in the activities today.”

  At that point the doors to the bridge opened and the captain walked in with his two personal guards.

  It was the first time Karel had seen the captain this close. The Klingon walked with great confidence and took his chair without giving Karel a glance. The captain’s guards, however, did notice him and looked him over carefully, before taking standing positions on either side of the captain’s chair.

  Karel knew that the captain and the second officer were the only ones allowed personal guards on the bridge. They were also the only ones who needed guards, given the fact that they were the only ones likely to be challenged at their duty stations by their subordinates.

  The guards allowed the captain and second officer to concentrate on their work, without constant threat of violent challenge to their authority by ambitious warriors.

  The captain had some gray in his beard and hair, an open challenge to the truism that said “There are no old warriors.” Though Karel had not seen him up close before, he knew the captain’s record well.

  Captain Kran was the veteran of many successful campaigns. In his almost twenty year career as captain he had tasted many victories, protecting the Empire [95] against incursion and expanding its borders through conquest.

  “Report,” the captain said.

  “We are approaching Federation space now,” Klak said from his station.

  Karel was suddenly alert. Since he was not a bridge officer, he was usually not privileged to know the ship’s destination. Suddenly, his blood was alive with the nearness of the Earthers and of his revenge.

  “Yes, your vengeance is near,” Klak said. “And soon I will give you an opportunity to take it.”

  The second officer took a moment to appraise him. “I have seen you fight,” he said. “Will you fight for me when the time comes? Will you fight for the right to take your vengeance?”

  “Yes,” Karel said.

  “Tactical,” the captain shouted.

  Suddenly, two Klingon heavy cruisers appeared on the screen and Karel felt a wave of disappointment. It was only a drill, battle exercises. They were, howeve
r, very close to the Earthers. Perhaps that meant the D’k tahg would be going into battle for real shortly.

  “Out of range,” Klak said.

  “Charge weapons,” Captain Kran shouted.

  Karel’s mind went immediately to his disrupter room. His Klingons would perform well, even if the relief officer did not.

  “Ready torpedoes,” Kran said.

  “Torpedoes?” Klak said. “Disrupter banks are standing by.”

  “Torpedoes,” Kran repeated, scowling.

  “Torpedoes, ready,” Commander Koloth said.

  [96] “Target each ship,” Kran said. “Helm, prepare to use a warp burst to put us on top of them.”

  Karel wondered what the captain was planning. The range was too great for either torpedoes or disrupters.

  “Fire torpedoes!” the captain shouted.

  “Torpedoes away,” Koloth said. “Detonating,” he said a moment later, when the torpedoes exploded short of their targets.

  “Helm, now,” the captain said, and the D’k tagh flashed into warp, the stars on the main viewer flaring for an instant.

  Afterward the D’k tagh returned to normal space, practically in top of the other Klingon vessels.

  “Disrupters, now!” Captain Kran shouted.

  Suddenly, Karel saw the brilliance of the maneuver. The early detonation of the torpedoes had temporarily overloaded the other ships’ scanners. The captain had used the time to warp into position to fire the disrupters at nearly point-blank range.

  The maneuver was new and very effective.

  “Disrupters now,” the captain called.

  “Disrupters firing,” Koloth replied almost before the captain had finished the command.

  Karel saw the flash of green power and felt the energy of full disrupter fire vibrate through the deck.

  But something was wrong. The port disrupter had not fired. The flash had appeared only on the starboard side. It was impossible.

  Koloth’s hands were quickly working his controls as he shouted into his console for a report from the relief officer.

  “First target neutralized,” Klak said.

  [97] Then the ship was rocked by fire. The second cruiser had opened fire, now with the same advantage of close range.

  The captain was on his feet.

  “Report,” he shouted.

  “Shields compromised. We have been neutralized. Simulation is ended,” Klak announced.

  “Damage,” the captain called out.

  Karel knew that drills were not full-power, but nor were they for display only as he knew human battle maneuvers were.

  “Engineers have begun to repair shield damage,” Klak said. Then the second officer manipulated his controls for a moment. “I will send another team to the port disrupter room.”

  Koloth stood. “The fault is mine, Captain. Permission to see the disrupter room for myself,” he said.

  The captain nodded, then let out a growl of displeasure.

  Karel watched Koloth leave the bridge. Though Koloth had taken responsibility, Karel knew that the failure could not have been his fault. He also knew that the failure should have been impossible.

  Then Klak rose to his feet next to Karel.

  “We have done poorly,” the second officer said. “There is no excuse for this failure of leadership.”

  The captain looked at Klak, frank surprise on his face, then understanding.

  Suddenly, the bridge was completely quiet, as the Klingons there recognized the challenge for what it was.

  Karel was instantly alert. As Klak’s personal guard, the challenge was now his as well.

  The response was immediate; one of the captain’s [98] guards drew his blade, holding the d’k tahg in front of him as he charged. Karel reacted without thinking. He placed himself in front of Klak and deflected the knife with one hand as he struck a powerful blow with the other, hitting the Klingon square in the throat.

  Then he turned, leaned in with his hip, and used the guard’s momentum to hurl the Klingon to the deck. On the ground, the Klingon fought for breath, holding his damaged throat.

  Karel immediately realized that the Klingon was no longer a threat. Nevertheless, he reached down and picked up his blade, which had fallen.

  Now it was just the captain and his remaining guard facing Klak and Karel. It was a fair battle, yet Karel’s blood screamed out a warning. There was something going on here that was not as simple as a challenge.

  For the moment, there was no time to consider such subtleties. For now he had to concentrate on keeping himself alive.

  The captain had his blade out, as did his guard. Karel held his own firmly and saw out of his peripheral vision that Klak was also ready.

  Whatever happened would happen quickly now, while everyone’s blood was hot.

  The captain’s guard was first to act. He looked at Klak for a moment, and then, instead of rushing forward to do battle, he turned to face the captain.

  Captain Kran was caught by surprise for perhaps the first time in his career. It was also for the last time, Karel realized.

  The large powerful guard brought down a fist on the captain’s hand—the one that held the blade.

  [99] As the blade fell to the ground, Klak rushed forward. The captain’s guard grabbed him around the arm with one strong hand. Kran had just a moment to meet his guard’s eyes before Klak reached him and the second officer’s blade plunged into the captain’s chest.

  Captain Kran turned to face Klak, who merely sneered into his captain’s face as he drove the d’k tahg in deeper, twisting it once the hilt touched the captain’s uniform.

  Captain Kran grunted once, and then his eyes closed and his service to the Empire was ended.

  For a long moment, the bridge was completely quiet. The silence was broken by the sound of Klak’s blade pulling free of Captain Kran’s body.

  The second officer—no, the captain, Karel reminded himself—stood and surveyed the bridge, challenging the other officers there with his eyes. Wiping the blade on Kran’s uniform, he sat in the command chair.

  He gave Karel a look telling him to take his position. The guard who had betrayed his charge was already standing at attention beside the new captain.

  Karel did not hesitate. He walked over to Captain Kran’s body and knelt down. He pried open the captain’s eyes, lifted his head, and howled to let the next world know that a Klingon warrior was coming. He held the wail and then heard other voices from the bridge join his—though not, he noted, Klak’s.

  When that task was done, he took a position beside Klak. But he did so uneasily, with his blood calling out his shame.

  What he had been part of today had not been an open challenge where true warriors used strength and cunning to determine leadership. Instead, he had been part [100] of the worst kind of betrayal, where a warrior’s trusted protector helped to murder him.

  But there was even more to Klak’s treachery than this, he realized. It was not an accident that Klak had chosen him as a personal guard today, just as it was not an accident that the port disruptor failed and started the cycle of events that led to a great warrior lying dead on the deck and a treacherous plotter sitting in his chair.

  For now, Karel could do nothing to redeem the blow his honor had suffered, so he simply did his duty and stood guard over Captain Klak.

  Chapter Nine

  “SUBLIGHT SPEED, Mr. Sulu,” Kirk said.

  “Sublight, aye,” Sulu said, and Kirk felt the vibration of the ship dropping out of warp speed. The captain noted that the vibration had been less strong than it ever had been in the past. Scotty must have upgraded inertial-dampening systems during his last round of repairs to the damage done by the Orions. He made a note to review the repair reports and commend the chief engineer.

  “Do they see us, Mr. Spock?” Kirk asked.

  “Negative, we are invisible to their satellite sensors as long as we keep at least one point five astronomical units away and remain in line with the system’s st
ar,” Spock said.

  Kirk nodded, studying the screen. The Orions had built their mining operation in a hurry, leaving gaps in [102] their early-warning system. That left them vulnerable to the kind of surprise that Kirk was planning for them.

  The ship and crew had endured too many surprises at the Orions’ hands in the last two weeks. And while Kirk and crew had dealt out some surprises of their own, the captain was determined not to allow the Orions to catch up on that score.

  “Did I mention that I don’t like this?” Dr. McCoy said from his position behind Kirk’s command chair.

  “As a matter of fact, Doctor, you have talked about almost nothing else,” Kirk said.

  “Well, it hasn’t seemed to do any good, Captain,” McCoy said.

  “On the contrary, Doctor, I have listened to every word you’ve said,” Kirk replied.

  “Before you decided to ignore me,” McCoy countered.

  The captain allowed himself a smile.

  “At the very least, let me come with you,” the doctor said.

  “Unnecessary, Doctor. I do not plan on needing your services,” Kirk said.

  “You are leading a team into a fortified and heavily armed Orion complex. How do you intend to avoid needing my services, Captain?”

  Kirk stood and gave the doctor another smile. “I intend to be careful.”

  He turned to his first officer. “Mr. Spock you have the bridge.”

  Kirk entered the turbolift and caught a glimpse at McCoy before the doors closed. The doctor was not pleased, but Kirk had refused to budge.

  He had sent twenty-one people down to the second [103] planet of System 1324. Only nine had come back, and of those nine, Ensign McFadden later died of his injuries. In addition, the Enterprise had taken heavy damage. Only through luck and a series of Mr. Spock’s and Scotty’s miracles was it fully operational again.

  This time, Kirk was not going to send anyone into danger in his place. And he was not going to risk the ship until he had found out exactly what it would be facing.

  The mission still had dangers and he was still sending seven crew members into the unknown, but it was the right decision—he could feel it.