STAR TREK: TOS - Errand of Vengeance, Book Two - Killing Blow
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“I want you to help me avoid Kahless’s fate. I want you on the bridge with me the first duty cycle of each day,” Klak said.
Karel guessed that Klak might ask him this. The new captain was worried about the loyalty of his bridge crew. At least in Koloth’s case, Karel knew that worry was well founded.
To say no would be to make an enemy of Klak, but he was not prepared to give up his command of the disruptor room.
“I will serve you on the bridge,” Karel said, “but I would like to then take the second duty cycle in the disruptor room with the Klingons I trained.”
Klak was surprised by that, and it showed on his face. “You request a second duty cycle?”
“I believe I serve the Empire best in my disruptor room,” Karel said.
“I offer you the bridge. You could learn much, and there is much opportunity there,” Klak said. It was as close as Klak would come to offering Karel the job of bridge weapons officer. To take that position, he would have to challenge and kill Koloth, which would also take care of a serious problem for Klak.
Koloth had asked him if he sought favor over victory. Karel knew he did not. He sought victory and he sought revenge.
“I will serve you on the bridge. For now, I seek no other opportunities. I have much to learn first,” Karel said.
Klak looked at him in frank amazement. He could [143] not believe that a Klingon would put duty above ambition.
“I am pleased to have a Klingon of your principles by my side,” Klak said. “It is very important to the Empire that the ship accomplish its next mission against the Earthers.”
Karel was suddenly very alert and he knew his interest showed on his face. Klak smiled and Karel noted again how unpleasant that smile was.
“The D’k tahg will be traveling into Federation space,” he said.
“To engage the Earthers?” Karel asked.
“Not yet,” Klak said. “We have to pick up cargo that will be vital in our coming war effort against the Federation. We have reports that the cargo may be in danger. Nothing must stop us and any Earthers who stand in our way must be destroyed.”
So that was what Klak was offering Karel, a chance to see the beginning of the Empire’s vengeance against the Earthers from the bridge. In return, he would have to help keep the new captain alive.
“I will see you on the bridge at the beginning of tomorrow’s duty cycle,” Karel said, as he turned to exit Klak’s quarters.
Chapter Thirteen
THERE MUST BE a simple explanation, Kell thought. Coincidence? Parallel development? The galaxy was teeming with races that looked more or less like humans. Why not another group that resembled Klingons?
Then the primitive humanoid, stepped forward, his eyes alert and said, “What is your purpose?”
It was a reasonable question. Not surprising under the circumstances, except that it was delivered in very clear Klingon.
Kirk did not understand, but Benitez stepped forward, and said, “He’s speaking Klingon, sir.”
Kirk was alert, but did not immediately raise his weapon. In fact, he raised a hand to calm Chief Brantley, who was raising his own rifle. Clearly, the captain understood that there was more going on here than there seemed.
[145] The Enterprise had come to this planet suspecting a Klingon connection to the Orions. Yet this Klingon in primitive clothing had just saved their lives.
“You helped us, why?” the Klingon said. Karel tried to place the language. It was Klingon but with archaic usage and accents.
“What did he say, Mr. Benitez?” Kirk asked.
“I can’t tell, sir. I don’t speak Klingon very well. Ensign Anderson speaks it much better than me.”
“Mr. Anderson?” Kirk asked.
Kell did not hesitate. “He asks us our purpose and wants to know why we helped them.”
“Tell him we are here to stop the Orions and the damage they are doing here,” Kirk said.
Kell translated. The Klingon listened carefully and said, “The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” he said.
That was, of course, a Klingon proverb, and hearing it spoken in the archaic tongue gave Kell a chill. Something very strange was going on here.
Then the Klingon looked at him and asked, “Why do you fight the green skins?”
Kell translated for Kirk and then gave the captain’s reply, “Because they work against our people and yours, and we don’t like bullies.”
The Klingon smiled at that, nodded, and said, “They shake the ground.”
The Klingon might have been primitive, but he seemed to have a pretty good grasp of the situation. And he and his brothers had destroyed three Orion weapons platforms.
“Mr. Anderson, ask him if they are Klingons and if they serve the Klingon Empire,” Kirk said.
[146] The Klingon’s response was that, yes, they were Klingons, but he did not recognize the term Empire.
The captain nodded when Kell relayed the response. Ensign Clark stepped forward and said, “Captain, xenoanthropologists have theorized for years that an ancient race seeded some planets with beings taken from other worlds. It explains why we encounter so many humanoid species. Perhaps the Klingons were seeded here somehow.”
At Kirk’s request, Kell asked the Klingon how long his people had been on this world. The Klingon looked at him questioningly and said, “Always. We have always been here.”
In a flash of insight, Kell asked the Klingon if he had ever heard of Kahless. He had not. When Kell relayed this to the captain, Kirk said, “Then they arrived here more than fourteen hundred years ago.”
Kell was surprised that Kirk knew of Kahless, but chalked it up to just one more surprise he had had in the company of humans. What Kirk said made sense. The Klingon’s usage and speech reminded Kell of the Klingon tongue as it was spoken in Kahless’s time, but it seemed even older.
The Klingon stepped forward and extended his hand. Kirk mirrored the gesture, and then the two men were grasping forearms. The Klingon said, “Gorath.”
Kirk did not need a translation, “James T. Kirk,” he said.
“We should not stay here. More green skins will come soon. They are fools but dangerous. You should come with us and we will see what we can accomplish together.”
Kirk agreed, and one of the other primitive Klingons [147] jumped onto the remaining weapons platform to pilot it. Gorath led the way and Kirk followed.
Even after all he had seen, Kell had trouble believing that he was seeing Kirk walk in the company of a Klingon. The Federation was looking at war with the Empire, yet the fact that the primitive people they had come to protect had turned out to be of Klingon blood made no difference to the captain—or to the others for that matter.
Kell knew that if the situation were reversed and a Klingon force encountered a planet full of primitive humans within the Empire, the outcome would be quite different and very unpleasant for the humans.
This changed things for Kell, he knew. His mission to kill Captain Kirk would have to wait. Before he did that, he would first have to ensure that the captain succeeded in his mission to rid the planet of Orions.
More than one hundred thousand beings of Kell’s own blood depended on Kirk, who was now walking alongside the primitive Klingon leader.
Humans, Kell thought, shaking his head.
But he found himself wondering what would develop out of the collaboration between these two men.
Lieutenant Commander Justman leaned over the auxiliary communications console, frantically looking for some evidence that what he had just seen had not been real.
“They must have jettisoned, but I can’t find them on the scanners,” the lieutenant at the science station said, an edge of panic in her voice.
That explanation made sense. The bridge design was modular so that bridges could be upgraded and [148] replaced. The designers had also built them to act as lifeboats that could be jettisoned in an emergency.
If scanners didn’t show anything, Justman would use
his eyes. He worked the controls on the Endeavor’s viewer, looking for any sign of the jettisoned bridge. It wouldn’t survive long in open space, particularly if the Klingons saw it first.
Then Justman saw something that stopped him cold. He held the image of the Yorkshire’s damaged primary hull and magnified. Then he magnified again.
The hole left where the bridge should be looked like a gaping wound. And this wound was to the ship’s core, both its brain and its heart.
Justman adjusted the angle again and he saw it clearly. Part of the helm/navigation console stood on the small piece of deck that was still there.
The bridge hadn’t jettisoned. It could not be recovered.
It had been pulverized and blown into space. But that was impossible because it meant the captain, First Officer Okuda, and the rest of the bridge crew were ... gone.
And that couldn’t be, because there were two Klingon cruisers just a few kilometers away and the captain had to get them out of this. Captain Rodriguez had to do what he always did. He had to win. The ship was depending on him. The people on Donatu V were depending on him.
The captain was too important to be ...
He’s gone, Justman thought. They are all gone.
It was unthinkable. It was impossible. But Justman knew it was also true and that the rest of the crew would follow them into oblivion unless the young officers in auxiliary control got hold of the situation. Even if they did, the Yorkshire might not survive.
[149] Justman rejected that possibility. Captain Rodriguez would be furious if we allowed that, he thought.
“The transporter room can’t get a fix on any of the bridge crew,” the lieutenant at the science station said, his voice rising.
“The bridge is gone, they are all gone,” Justman said, to the science officer and the room at large.
He saw the shock and dismay on the faces of the officers around him.
“We have to get control or we will lose the ship and Donatu V,” he said, trying to muster some of the confidence he had heard just minutes ago in Captain Rodriguez’s voice.
In his own mind he heard the roar of fear and the rising edge of panic, yet he forced them out of his voice.
“We still have a job to do and we have no choice but to succeed. We owe it to the captain,” he said, again trying to give his voice a firmness and determination that he did not feel.
Fortunately, the officers around him apparently could not tell the difference, and he saw the rising tide of fear dissipate in the room. He needed to get them moving and quickly.
He turned to the communications officer, “Mr. Heller, tie all command lines and circuits into this room. Inform the rest of the ship that the bridge has been ... damaged and we are routing command protocols here. Then find out who the ranking officer is and get them down here.”
He turned to the engineering station, “Mr. Evans, you will have to coordinate damage control from here. Concentrate efforts on shields and weapons.”
[150] Then he turned to the young woman at the science station. “Ms. Parker, run continuous scans on the Endeavor and the Klingon battle cruisers. I want updates on the Endeavor’s survivors and I want to know what the Klingons are doing every second.”
“Sir,” Acting Communications Officer Heller said, “the Klingons are hailing us.”
“Where’s the ranking officer? Someone has to tell them that they are in command,” Justman barked.
“Sir, you are the ranking officer,” Heller said.
It was another impossibility. He could not be the ranking officer when there was the captain ... or lieutenant commander ...
Then Justman realized that all the people he looked to in tense or dangerous situations were dead.
“Is it the lead ship hailing?” Justman said.
“Yes,” came the communications officer’s reply.
“Status of the Klingon vessel?” he asked.
The science officer took a moment and then said, “Their shields are almost gone down and warp engines are ... experiencing power fluctuations.”
Justman’s hands flew over his own console and he saw that the Yorkshire’s weapons were at full power and shields were at better than sixty percent and climbing.
The ship was nearly fully functional, if you discounted the fact that it had lost its heart, soul, and mind moments ago.
Justman took a moment to study the viewscreen, which now showed the lead Klingon cruiser standing behind the Endeavor. Clearly, the Klingon commander wanted to make it harder for the Yorkshire to fire and [151] also wanted to use its own proximity to the ship as a threat.
Justman decided he was done being threatened.
“Put the Klingon on the main viewer,” he said.
A moment later, the Klingon commander Maarcs’s face appeared onscreen.
“This is Lieutenant Commander Robert H. Justman, acting commander of the United Space Ship Yorkshire.”
The Klingon smiled an unpleasant smile. “You can still see your captain, you know, but you will have to carefully calibrate your sensors. He is in very small pieces.”
That hurt, but Justman would be dammed if he let the Klingon see it.
“How is your warp reactor?” Justman said. “It is unfortunate that when you finally retreat you will have to do it at sublight speeds.”
Justman saw that he had scored a direct psychological hit. The Klingon roared in anger. The lieutenant commander decided to press his advantage, perhaps the only one he would see today. “Is that why you cower behind the Endeavor? Are you trying to postpone your humiliation?” Justman said.
Watching the Klingon’s eyes bulge and the veins in his neck throb, he wondered if it was possible for Klingons to literally burst with rage.
“Surrender now,” Justman said.
“You insolent Earther fool!” the Klingon said when he was finally able to speak. “I will destroy this worthless hulk in front of me, then I will take your ship. I offered your captain a quick death, but you and your crew will now die slowly.”
The Klingon obviously broke the connection, [152] because the face was replaced by the view of the Endeavor and the Klingon cruisers.
For a moment, Justman could feel the eyes of the auxiliary-control crew on him. They were looking to him, hoping he had a plan, a plan beyond taunting the Klingon commander into a rage.
He was sorry that he would disappoint them.
Chapter Fourteen
“YOU ARE FROM space as well?” Gorath asked.
Kell translated. He could see that Kirk and the others were as surprised as he was, both by Gorath’s understanding of space travel and his casual acceptance of it.
“Yes, we are,” Kirk replied.
Gorath had brought the landing party to his small village a few kilometers away from the place where they had fought the Orions. They were sitting on wooden stools in the center of the village. Kirk and Gorath were facing each other, with Kell sitting next to the captain to translate. Whatever his title, Gorath was clearly the leader of this community.
Chief Brantley and the others were nearby, as were a small group of Gorath’s men. Kell guessed they were the same Klingons who had accompanied the Klingon [154] on the hunt for the Orion vehicle, which, Kell noted, had disappeared into the village somewhere.
The village reminded Kell of images and re-creations he had seen of ancient Klingon life. It had simple but well-constructed wooden structures. They had obviously been built with hand tools, but were more refined than simple log structures.
The smaller buildings were dwellings, he guessed. Larger buildings must have served some community purpose. Kell noted that the Klingons were working with metal tools, so they had learned to find and manipulate iron and other ores.
The overall impression the village gave was one of order. It was also peaceful. Children played, craftsmen worked, and hunters brought in prey. Their lives continued with confidence, despite the fact that the shadow of destruction at the hands of the Orions loomed over them.
“We belong to a Federation of worlds in the larger galaxy that has banded together for mutual enrichment and protection,” Kirk explained.
“Are there many dangerous people like the green skins?’ Gorath asked.
“We have found most peoples to be open to friendship, but, yes, there are dangerous races as well,” Kirk said. The captain thought for a moment and continued. “We believed the Orions were working for another race who seek to harm us. We thought the Orions were taking [155] crystals from the earth to help power ships and weapons.”
Gorath nodded. “Then we truly have a common enemy,” he said.
“True,” Kirk said. “We believed this enemy the Orions served to be of your blood, but that seems unlikely now.”
It was true. The Empire would not be behind this destructive mining on a planet full of Klingons. But the question remained, Who was behind it? He wondered what Benitez would make of the situation. No doubt his roommate would have a theory.
“These people of our blood, these fellow Klingons who travel the stars, how did they get there?” Gorath asked.
Kirk asked Kell to explain the theory that an ancient powerful race seeded the Klingons who now lived on this world.
Gorath listened carefully and with interest. “How do you know for certain that we are the seed? Perhaps we are the source and these Klingons who travel space are our seed?”
Like Kell, the captain was surprised by the idea, but could not completely discount it. “We do not know for certain,” he said.
Parrish approached with her tricorder out.
“Report,” Kirk asked.
“Sir, to do a proper geological survey, we would need the ship’s sensors and some more equipment on the ground,” she said.
“Best guess, Ensign,” Kirk said.
“I think this planet and these people are in big trouble, Captain,” she said.
As if to punctuate her words, the ground began to [156] shake. It was not as powerful as the earthquake they had felt when they arrived, but it was enough to make the point.