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

by Kevin Ryan

  Suddenly, Kell was filled with pride as he watched the Klingons begin firing. He felt that he was fighting beside his honored ancient ancestors, Klingons who fought bravely to protect their homes and families, Klingons who fought a just battle and fought it well.

  These Orions were not as foolish as the others he had seen. Once they realized they were under fire, they accelerated their vehicles, quickly shooting in front of Kell’s position. The Klingon tracked his target and was pleased to see its shield flare and flicker, already showing signs that it would fail soon.

  Gorath’s and the other two weapons platforms appeared on Kell’s far left—the apex of the pincer. They shot forward to meet the four Orion platforms.

  Seeing the other platforms, the Orion pilots did not even slow down. Kell imagined that their first thought was that they had found salvation and were being joined in battle by more of their brothers.

  Even when Gorath and his two warriors opened fire, the Orions continued forward, obviously not yet comprehending their true danger.

  When the two groups of armored vehicles were less than one hundred meters apart, the two Orion pilots on the outside of the formation peeled away. The two in the middle did not, and they stayed their course as Gorath and the others shot toward them, cannons blazing.

  To their credit, each Orion pilot managed to get off a single shot before the Klingons were upon them, but neither shot found a target.

  [170] Finally, at nearly point-blank range, Gorath and his warriors let loose with fierce barrages of energy blasts.

  They did not miss.

  The two Orion platforms in the center exploded in brilliant balls of fire, which Gorath and his Klingons flew through victoriously.

  By now, the pilots of the two outer platforms had decided to rejoin the battle. They had gained altitude to avoid the fire from the ground. Now they were aiming below and shooting at Gorath and his two “wingmen” as they cleared the explosions.

  Instantly alert, Gorath and the two other Klingon pilots banked hard in a violent maneuver that turned them directly into the direction of the fire.

  Seeing the Klingons come speeding toward them and ignore the fire that came their way, the Orions reconsidered and tried to pull away. It was a clumsy maneuver, the kind made by cowardly fools who were used to prey that did not fight back.

  The Klingons, on the other hand, were hunters whose reflexes and instincts had been honed through countless lifetimes. The Klingons chased the Orions, who were now trying openly to flee. Gorath followed one of the vehicles, while the other two Klingons followed the other.

  It was over in a matter of seconds.

  The warriors around them gave a cheer at seeing the last two platforms explode, and Kell smiled his own satisfaction.

  “Do you get the feeling that we are the ones getting in the way?” Benitez said, smiling.

  Before Kell could agree, Parrish’s voice called out. “I [171] show some movement on the ground. And something else in the air ... something big.”

  Kell looked into the distance and saw movement. Ground forces, he saw, perhaps sixty of them.

  Then he saw something in the air above them. It was big, perhaps five or six times the size of the Orion platforms. Still a platform, it had a single pilot near the front and three gunners on each side, each manning a cannon at least the size of the ones on the other platforms.

  It was a familiar strategy. Send in the light attack craft, followed by heavier equipment and ground forces. Kell called on his blood for strength. It was a very effective battle plan, especially if the attacking force had greater numbers.

  And the Orions now outnumbered the Klingon and Starfleet personnel at least three to one.

  “Approaching Federation space,” Commander Koloth said from his weapons station on the bridge.

  “Have you plotted the Federation’s sensor outposts?” Klak asked.

  Karel stood at the new captain’s right, while the other guard, a large Klingon named Ranc, stood on his left. Ranc was the same one who had betrayed and helped murder Captain Kran.

  Karel wondered if Klak had considered the possibility that if Ranc could betray the captain, whom he was honor-bound to protect, he might also betray Klak.

  Suddenly, Karel was certain that Klak had not considered it. In his arrogance, Klak no doubt thought that he commanded some greater loyalty than Kran had. In truth, Karel could see that Ranc was honorless and [172] serving the lesser master named Klak would not make him any less so.

  “I have all of the sensor outposts on my screen,” Koloth said.

  “Feed coordinates of the closest one to the helm,” Klak said.

  “Done,” Koloth replied.

  “Helm, take us as close as you can to the senor array,” Klak said.

  All of the Klingons on the bridge gasped in surprise, except for Karel, who knew this was coming.

  “You do not want me to avoid the drones?” the helmsman asked.

  “Follow my order!” Klak shouted. “I will not be questioned by cowards who fear the Federation weaklings.”

  The helmsmen manipulated his controls and said, “It is done.”

  Karel could see Klak sit back, a satisfied expression on his face. Karel shook his head at Klak’s tactics. The commander had expressed the same thought, when he received his own orders, and Karel thought he had seen fear in the Klingon’s eyes then.

  Now he was berating an officer for expressing what the entire bridge crew was thinking. And instead of telling his subordinates the purpose of their mission, Klak was humiliating one and sowing doubt in minds of the others.

  Kell’s blood burned at the thought of serving and protecting such a Klingon.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “NOW, HELM,” Justman said, and he felt the Yorkshire shudder under his feet as it shot toward the Klingon cruiser.

  He confirmed that the phasers were charged and the photon torpedoes armed. With luck they would execute the maneuver and fire weapons before the Klingons could respond.

  He fired one torpedo, then another, before he saw that though they were certainly due some luck, the Klingons would not be granting any just yet.

  His warning light told him that the Klingon cruiser had a weapons lock on the Yorkshire. Justman ignored it and targeted the phasers.

  He saw the torpedoes hit the Klingon cruiser’s shields directly and fired the phasers an instant before he felt the impact of the Klingon torpedo on the Yorkshire. [174] Ignoring the alarms on his weapons console, Justman fired and fired again.

  He watched on his forward tactical display as the Klingon cruiser grew to fill it. Just before it looked like the vessels would collide, he saw open space and knew they were past the cruiser.

  The wise thing to do would be to retreat, assess damage, and plan the next phase of the battle, but Justman rejected the conventional wisdom. He was an inexperienced commander, commanding a heavily damaged ship run by a group of brave but green lieutenants. And he was fighting an aggressive foe who had no doubt years of experience in combat situations.

  Justman sensed that if he did not end the battle quickly, the longer it drew out the greater the chance that one of the Klingon ships’ many advantages would tip the battle in their favor.

  Ignoring the damage reports and alerts on his own console, Justman called out, “Helm, turn us around and bring us in close again.”

  As Justman again felt the pull of high-speed impulse maneuvers, his hands raced across his console. He tried to make sense out of the sensor data the science officer was feeding him on the status of the Klingon ship.

  The Endeavor and the Yorkshire had hit them hard, but the Klingon’s shields were holding up well—better than the Yorkshire’s own, a look at the monitor told him.

  The ship wouldn’t take many more torpedo hits. When the Yorkshire was properly oriented for another run on the Klingon cruiser, he let loose a volley of four torpedoes and detonated them about midway between the two ships.

  The blast and the radiatio
n would render the Klingon [175] vessel’s targeting systems ineffective. Unfortunately, it would do the same for the Yorkshire’s systems. The difference was that Justman knew it was coming and was prepared to fire the phasers manually.

  Fractions of a second later, the Yorkshire was once again nearly on top of the cruiser. Justman fired phasers, targeting by eye. He didn’t try to get fancy and look for weaknesses in the shields. Instead, he aimed for the largest target he could find: the rear, engineering section of the ship.

  He got off four blasts before the Yorkshire overshot the cruiser. He thought all of them were hits but couldn’t be sure and he dared not take an instant to check the sensor data.

  Instead he was shouting out an order and checking his torpedo status. “Helm, maintain course and speed, but turn us to face them,” he shouted.

  The helmsman replied with an “Aye,” and Justman could imagine the Yorkshire shooting away from the Klingon ship, but turning as it did to face its enemy.

  As soon as the readout told him they were properly oriented he let loose with a volley of torpedoes. One. Then another. Then another. Then another, as he watched the Klingon cruiser on his screen recede.

  He waited for the reload indicator and fired two more.

  Only then did he spare a glance at his readouts. As he suspected, the Klingon ship had not been able to fire a shot at them. And they were making no move to pursue.

  “Ms. Parker, status of the Klingon ship?” he called out.

  There was an edge in her voice as she said. “Sir, their shields are down ... I’m showing massive overloads, energy spiking off the charts ...”

  [176] Justman glanced at the main viewer in time to see the Klingon cruiser explode in a brilliant flash on the screen.

  He had to close his eyes for a moment because the flare was so bright. When he opened them again the flare of the explosion seemed to linger; then it extinguished itself, disappearing as quickly as it had appeared.

  Then the subspace shock wave hit—not as powerful this time, since the distance from the exploding cruiser was greater this time.

  The Yorkshire was rocked for a moment; then the moment passed and there were a few seconds of silence as the auxiliary-control crew digested what they had just witnessed.

  Then the chatter from the communications station broke the silence as damage reports came from all over the ship.

  “Sir,” the communications officer said. “We’re being hailed by the planet ... and from the ... Endeavor.”

  “Tell Donatu V to wait. Put the Endeavor on,” Justman said.

  “I only have audio, sir,” the lieutenant at communications said.

  Then a male voice said, “Yorkshire, this is the Endeavor.” The channel was remarkably clear and the voice surprisingly calm, as if it were a routine message.

  “This is the Yorkshire. Lieutenant Commander Robert H. Justman, acting commander, here,” he said.

  “This is Ensign Michael Fuller,” the voice said. “It’s good to hear your voice. We were able to monitor some of the battle from here. Is it over?”

  “The two Klingon cruisers are neutralized, thanks to [177] your efforts over there. Those phasers came at just the right time. Is Captain Shannon with you?” Justman said.

  There was a pause on the other side, then, “No, Captain Shannon didn’t make it, but we have him to thank for the phasers.”

  “Understood. I’m sorry about your losses. How many of you are there? And are there any Klingons on board?”

  “The Klingons have been ... neutralized. There are just five of us,” he said.

  “Stay together, we will pick you up shortly. I look forward to shaking your hand, Mr. Fuller.”

  “And I yours, sir. Fuller out.”

  “Helm, bring us alongside the Endeavor. Mr. Heller, tell the transporter room to stand by,” Justman said.

  Then for the first time since he arrived at auxiliary control, Lieutenant Commander Justman sat. He let himself fall into the chair next to his weapons console.

  He felt the beginnings of grief well up in his throat and forced it back down. He had no time for that indulgence and he doubted that he would be able to function when it hit him with its full force.

  “Sir, I am getting another hail,” the communications officer said.

  Justman almost told him to tell the party on Donatu V to wait when Lieutenant Heller finished with. “It’s from a Klingon cruiser.”

  Immediately alert, Justman was on his feet without realizing that he had stood up. He turned to the science station. “Sensors, Ms. Parker?”

  “It is one of three Klingon ships, sir,” Parker said.

  “How much time do we have?” Justman said.

  “A little less than one hour, sir,” she replied. Then [178] she checked her viewer and looked up. “Sir, it’s going to be at least three hours until the Starfleet vessels get here.”

  Justman went back to his console. Shields were at thirty percent. In an hour, engineering might be able to get them back to fifty or even sixty percent. Weapons were functioning but that was thin comfort.

  He tied his tactical display into the science station’s sensors. Three heavily armed, fully functional Klingon battle cruisers were on their way.

  Justman realized that the Battle of Donatu V was far from over.

  He checked the chronometer on his console. Actually, not that far. The Klingons would arrive in fifty-seven minutes.

  Not long after that, he feared, the battle would be over for good.

  “Put the Klingons on the screen,” Justman heard himself say.

  A moment later a Klingon face dominated the auxiliary-control main viewer. “Federation ship, abandon the Donatu system or be destroyed,” the Klingon said.

  “You are in violation of Federation space. Return to Klingon space immediately or face dire consequences,” Justman said. It was an empty threat, he knew, but it felt good to make it:

  The Klingon on screen laughed. “We have monitored your battle from here. You are alone, with your only support hours away. Stay and you will pay for your crimes against the Klingon Empire. Run and we will catch you and then you will pay. Either way, Earther, you all die—today.”

  [179] Justman’s peripheral vision told him the entire auxiliary control crew was looking at him—looking to him.

  They were looking to him for strength, the way he had looked to Captain Rodriguez. The difference was that the captain was a great man. At the moment, Justman felt like a thin shadow, but the crew looked at him with respect just the same.

  He said a quick prayer to Captain Rodriguez wherever he was asking for strength, and when his mouth opened he was surprised to hear that his voice was calm, steady.

  “Klingon commander,” Justman said. “This ship does not run from any threat. If you have any doubt about that check your scanners. You will find the Klingon fleet short two battle cruisers. Continue on your current course at your own peril.”

  Then he turned to the communications officer and said, “Mr. Heller, close channel.”

  When the scene on the viewer changed back to space, it showed the primary hull of the Endeavor.

  “Is the transporter room ready, Mr. Heller?” he said.

  “Yes, sir,” the lieutenant said.

  “Then beam the survivors on board,” Justman said.

  Kell watched as Gorath and his two fellow Klingon pilots did not hesitate. They immediately accelerated toward the large Orion platform, even as the Orions fired their first shots at the smaller vehicles.

  As he watched the Klingons race across the sky, he saw Gorath take center position and the other two Klingons each take a flank. Kell immediately saw why.

  The Orion platform had a weakness that Gorath must have seen immediately. Each of the guns was mounted [180] on the side. The platform had no forward gun. It was well designed for causing maximum damage to ground forces. But it was not meant for air combat. The gunners on the side would be able to shoot effectively only at targets that were cons
iderate enough to fly alongside it.

  Obviously, the primitive Klingons did not intend to be considerate.

  Gorath and the others kept their formation tight and barreled straight for the platform. The pilot reacted slowly to the new development and did not think to turn his craft until it was too late to do any good.

  Gorath and the others fired their cannons from close range, and each Klingon made at least three solid hits on the larger ship’s shields before overshooting it. The shields glowed red when they were hit, telling Kell that the larger ship had a much more powerful shield than the smaller platforms.

  With the Orion platform turned, the gunners on one side were able to shoot at the craft from behind as they sped away. However, the Klingons were executing aggressive evasive maneuvers that Kell suspected pushed the design limits of the Orion vehicles.

  The Orion gunners didn’t even come close.

  By now the Orion ground forces were closing in and Kell had to turn his attention back to the battle at hand. He had to trust that Gorath and his brothers would take care of the Orion battle platform. Otherwise, the Klingons on the ground and the landing party would not survive—even if they managed to somehow survive the Orions now approaching them.

  Karel counted about sixty.

  [181] “Do you think the Orions even know what the term ‘fair fight’ means?” Benitez said.

  “Apparently not,” Kell said.

  The Orions stopped near the entrance of the village. Two of them in the lead conferred for a few seconds, and the teams split into two forces of about thirty. Each of the two teams took one side of the village and moved forward slowly.

  The Orions obviously had sensors. Kell saw that they would not be running through the center of the village and the center of the pincer, where they would be in the crossfire.

  Instead, the Orions sought cover of their own and opened fire on the defensive forces on either side. The primitive Klingons returned the fire, as did Kell and the rest of the landing party, but he immediately saw the problem when the first Klingon fell to Orion fire.