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

by Kevin Ryan

  Once again, the Orions outnumbered the defenders. In addition, their armor gave them limited protection from phaser fire and energy beams from the stolen Orion weapons. It was not enough to protect them from a direct hit, but a glancing blow that would kill or at least incapacitate an unprotected Klingon or human would be absorbed by the armor.

  It was simple math. Even if the defenders fought bravely and much better than the Orions, attrition would eventually give the battle to the attackers.

  Seconds in, Kell could see the end of the battle in his mind. That end might be glorious, but it would be final and result in the failure of the mission. And then the mining would continue and an entire planet full of Klingons would be lost.

  [182] Kirk obviously saw the same thing and appeared next to Kell. “Mr. Anderson, we can’t fight them on these terms. We have to get in close, so close that they won’t be able to use their weapons without risking hitting each other. Tell the Klingons we need to move closer, in between them if we can, and use the blades,” the captain said, patting his mek’leth.

  It was dangerous, but Kell knew Kirk was right. They would at least have a chance. Kell shouted the instructions, and the Klingons immediately abandoned their cover and started moving, dodging and feinting, giving their battle cry as they went.

  The landing party had to hurry to keep up. Kell spared a glance at the Klingons on the other side and saw they were following suit. He also caught a quick glimpse of the battle in the air.

  In the instant he looked, he saw one of the Klingon-piloted weapons platforms hurtling down and out of control. He had to look forward before it hit, but the explosion that followed seconds later told him what he needed to know.

  Kell hoped it was not a bad omen for the battle as he ran. He kept Benitez in his peripheral vision and fired as he charged the Orion line.

  He took care with his aim. The Klingons in the lead were already practically on top of the Orions, who were recoiling. Then the enemies were too close together for Kell to fire safely. He noted that me officers around him also held their fire.

  Reaching for his hip, Kell drew the mek’leth. He had not held one in years, since his last targ hunt with his brother. He remembered the hunt; it was just before [183] Karel had taken his post with the Klingon Defense Force.

  With a pang, Kell realized that it was the last targ hunt he would ever have with his brother. Yet, even as that thought filled him, he realized that he and the others had to succeed here today. And not only that, but he must survive to somehow report the Orions’ treachery to Klingon command.

  The Orions had to pay for what they were doing on this world. He had faith in the humans to fight and win against difficult odds. But he knew they would never take the kind of revenge that the Orions deserved for this atrocity.

  The Empire would serve the Orions their revenge, and they would serve it cold.

  Hanging the phaser rifle around his neck with the shoulder strap, Kell raised his mek’leth and entered the killing box with Benitez beside him.

  The field was thick with Orions and Klingons and Starfleet officers. Kell struck at an Orion who was firing his weapon, trying to hit one of the Klingons but succeeding in hitting only one of the other cowardly Orions. It was a glancing blow that spun the Orion around and into the blade of a waiting Klingon.

  Remembering the lesson of his first sight of Gorath in action, Kell swung the blade upward, aiming for the unprotected throat. He willed the blade there and felt it cut through the fabric right under the helmet and right into the Orion underneath it.

  So deep was the cut that Kell had trouble extracting his mek’leth from the dying Orion. He sensed rather than saw someone behind him. Turning his head as he [184] pulled at the blade, Kell saw another Orion raising his rifle to him from less than two meters’ distance.

  In the hands of a master, the mek’leth was a weapon of great power and remarkable precision. In the hands of the merely competent, or even inept, it could still be deadly.

  Benitez was actually better than competent with the blade, which he brought down hard on the Orion’s left hand, which was steadying the barrel of the rifle. Catching the area between the glove and the forearm armor, the heavy blade tore straight through skin, sinew, and bone.

  For a moment, the Orion looked dumbly at the stump before the blade of a Klingon caught him from behind.

  Kell caught Benitez’s eyes for just a moment before they were each caught back up in the battle again.

  The Orions had no stomach for up-close fighting. They also tried too often to use their high-powered weapons at close range. As a result, they hit each other as often as they hit the defenders.

  Kell’s blade found an Orion. Then another.

  As the enemy’s ranks thinned, he spared a glance at the others. The landing party was doing well.

  Kell knew that Starfleet self-defense training included instruction on a number of weapons, including blades and staffs. But some of the crew obviously had had additional experience, or great aptitude.

  Kirk was faring well, as was Section Chief Brantley.

  Kell noted that the others were all still alive.

  Then he saw an Orion swinging his weapon like a club, striking Ensign Sobel on the back of the head. The human went down.

  [185] Then the Orion made his final mistake. Seeing the human incapacitated, the Orion tried to aim his weapon.

  Parrish caught him in the elbow joint with her blade. He immediately dropped his rifle and she was able to swing the blade up and catch him in the underarm.

  However, the blade became stuck between the chest and shoulder armor. And then Kell saw that the Orion was not incapacitated.

  He was reaching for Parrish with his good hand.

  Kell was immediately on the move, watching as the Orion grabbed her wrist and pulled her close. Before he could do whatever he had planned, Kell was there.

  Instead of swinging his blade, he thrust it forward into the Orion’s side, using the momentum of his charge to give the blow force. The blade slipped through the fabric, then between ribs, then traveled more than half of its length into the Orion’s body.

  Reflexively, the Orion released Parrish and fell to his knees. Kell knew the alien was dead, even if the lumbering coward did not yet know it himself.

  He checked Parrish for damage and saw she was fine. She flashed him a look and then pulled her mek’leth free from the dying Orion’s armor.

  Then he and Parrish were fighting back-to-back, like Kahless and his great love Lady Lukura, who defeated five hundred warriors in the Great Hall of Qam-Chee.

  As their blades found targets, Kell could see that the battle had turned. Yet the Orions continued to fight, like the one who had attacked Parrish—they were already dead but did not yet know it.

  Kell saw some amazing displays of swordsmanship [186] by the Klingon warriors, and then the Orions were vanquished to the one. Looking across to the other line of defenders, he saw they had already finished their own enemies and were heading to help Kell’s side.

  By the time the first one reached them, however, the battle on the ground was done. The sound of a blast from above told Kell that the battle in the air was still raging.

  He turned to see the two Klingon-piloted vehicles still darting around the lumbering Orion craft. Kell saw that Gorath still lived, as did the female pilot, which told him that the pilot whose craft he heard explode was the other male.

  He also saw that three of the six gunners on the Orion craft were missing and its shield was flashing in and out of existence.

  Another blast from Gorath’s cannon and it disappeared altogether.

  The two Klingon pilots turned around in tight arcs and rushed the Orion craft for what Kell was certain was the final time.

  The end came quicker than even Kell expected as the Klingons fired a single blast each at the Orion craft, which did not explode so much as disintegrate underneath the pilot and surviving three gunners.

  Kell watched them and the
pieces of their cursed weapon fall and judged it a fitting end to their cowardly existences.

  He took a quick inventory of the battlefield. All of the Orions were dead or dying and the losses to the defenders seemed remarkably light. He counted six dead Klingon warriors on their side.

  [187] And Ensign Sobel was still on the ground.

  Captain Kirk and Parrish were standing over the officer and their faces told Kell that Sobel was dead.

  He could see pain on the captain’s face and rage on Parrish’s.

  Kell realized that Kirk had fought like a Klingon to protect a world full of people of Kell’s blood, people who should have been Kirk’s enemy.

  At that moment, Kell knew that he could not kill Captain Kirk and would defend this human with his own life. He looked around at the Klingon warriors around him and saw his duty to the Empire—a duty greater than the cowardly murder of humans.

  He saw a world of noble Klingons who were threatened by a real threat: greedy Orion monsters. He understood the dishonor of the Empire’s lies about humans, about their nature and the danger they posed.

  He had seen too much of their honor and their spirit. Suddenly, Kell was certain that the only way to extinguish that spirit would be to exterminate the humans. Just a few months ago, he would have thought such an atrocity would have been impossible in the Empire, which sought victory and glory but not wanton destruction.

  Months ago he believed that the humans were weak, cowardly, and deceitful. Months ago he believed the Empire needed to strike first to prevent the human plague from overtaking the galaxy. Months ago he believed that the Empire was stronger than the Federation, but that the Klingon Infiltrators had to hide their faces to compensate for the humans’ own underhanded tactics. Kell had believed that when he hid his true face [188] he was merely doing what was necessary to protect the Empire.

  He had believed many lies, but he now saw them for what they were. And he would not be a party to the Federation’s destruction.

  And for now, he had found a battle worthy of whatever was left of his honor.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “CAPTAIN,” Acting Science Officer Parker said. Justman realized that that was the first time any of the crew had called him by that title. It sounded wrong to his ears. The ship had only one captain, Captain Rodriguez.

  He nearly corrected the lieutenant, but checked himself when he saw Lieutenant Parker looking at him with respect and hope. The crew needed to believe they had a capable leader. He would not dispel that illusion and the hope it gave them. He knew the Klingons would take care of that soon enough.

  “I have something on long-range scanners, headed this way,” Lieutenant Parker said.

  “Another Klingon ship?” Justman said.

  There was an old Starfleet joke in which a ship’s captain calls down to engineering and says, “Damage?” [190] The chief engineer replies, “No thanks, Captain, we have plenty.”

  Klingons, he thought to himself. No thanks, we have plenty.

  He approached the science station. “Is it the Klingons, Ms. Parker?” he said as the lieutenant looked into the viewer.

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

  “What is?” Justman said, impatience creeping into his voice.

  “Whatever it is, it’s moving fast—warp six,” she said.

  “Warp six!” he replied. That was impossible.

  “Is it on an intercept course?” he said.

  “Yes, it will be here in twenty-four minutes. And sir, I have traced its point of origin. It took a minute because the speed—”

  “Where is it coming from?” Justman interrupted.

  “Earth, sir,” she said.

  Justman heard the sharp intake of breath from everyone in the control room, including himself.

  He suddenly had an idea of what was intercepting them. It was impossible but he was not about to question good fortune, which seemed to be in extremely short supply today.

  “Sir, we’re being hailed. It’s a Starfleet signal, but I don’t recognize—”

  “On screen,” Justman called out.

  The starfield and planet on the viewscreen were replaced by the face of a man in a Starfleet uniform, an admiral’s uniform. “This is Admiral William M. Jefferies in command of [191] the starship U.S.S. Constitution, designation NX-1701. The people back at Command thought you could use some help out here.”

  Justman could not keep the smile from his face and heard a cheer break out behind him.

  “This is Lieutenant Commander Robert H. Justman, acting commander of the U.S.S. Yorkshire. It’s an honor ... sir.”

  Justman had never met Admiral Jefferies before, but he knew the man’s reputation, though “legend” would be a better word.

  Lately, Jefferies had become known as the father of the starship program to create the next generation of spacecraft. Like everyone else in the fleet, Justman had known that the Constitution was the prototype, but it was supposed to be almost a year from launch.

  The Constitution was said to have high-speed warp engines, a crew capacity of over four hundred, and the ability to go years between stops. Some called the starships merely improved spaceships, but Justman knew that was like calling a photon torpedo an improved firecracker.

  “We have received your log transmissions. You and your crew have done some amazing work out there. The honor is mine,” Jefferies said.

  Just a few minutes later, Justman saw what would remain the most beautiful sight of his life when he watched the Constitution appear on the viewscreen. Though the basic design—primary and secondary hulls with dual nacelles—was familiar, it had a graceful strength and a long-legged beauty that made Justman forget to breathe for a moment.

  [192] It was a ship of dreams, he remembered thinking, and it had come to save them.

  Twenty-five years later, Admiral Robert H. Justman stared out his window. He decided he was doing altogether too much of that lately. From that window, he knew that others could see a dramatic and beautiful view of the San Francisco Bay and the Golden Gate Bridge.

  When Justman looked out the window, however, he saw the past, a past that he now felt slipping away. He did not doubt that he might live to see the Federation’s last days.

  Even when things had been at their darkest at the battle of Donatu V, the worst prospect he and his ship had faced was the loss of their lives and control of the planet below them—terrible, to be sure, but not the end of everything.

  ... because the end of everything was impossible. The Federation was too strong, not just in military might, but in its principles. Cooperation made it strong. Respect for other peoples and other worlds made it strong.

  Infinite diversity in its limitless combinations made it strong. Certainly, nothing could destroy that strength. It was truly impossible.

  But a career that spanned more than three decades had taught Justman that nothing was impossible.

  And in retrospect his belief that the Federation would stand forever seemed painfully naïve. The fact was that it was a newborn in political terms.

  At less than a century old, it had endured only a fraction of the time that the Roman Empire had survived, much less than Great Britain, or even the United States of America.

  Had he and others doomed the Federation because of [193] their foolish belief that it was invulnerable? Had that belief turned to arrogance that made them believe that because an idea was right, it was automatically powerful? That some truths were so obvious that they would somehow protect themselves?

  The Starfleet readiness report told him that he might well fail in his duty to protect those ideas, those truths.

  In the past, he had thought he had failed only to be later rescued by others, or by circumstance.

  The U.S.S. Constitution had reached Donatu V before the three Klingon battle cruisers. Together, the Yorkshire and the incredible starship had held the Klingon until more Starfleet vessels could arrive.

>   And by then, more Klingon ships had arrived.

  The battle was long and there were many sacrifices, too many. The Constitution was one of them. It went from being the prototype, a ship of dreams, to a badly damaged hulk and as a result would not be the first starship to be officially launched.

  Yet they had survived, if not prevailed. At the time, Justman had thought the peace they had made was better than an outright victory. It had allowed the Klingons to keep their dignity and the Starfleet force to save many lives.

  But somehow it had brought them to this, to the edge of destruction—the destruction of everything. All because he had not understood his enemy.

  He understood the Klingons better now. As a result, he did not have to wonder what the Federation worlds would suffer during an extended war and what they would suffer in defeat. He knew.

  And that knowledge pursued him in his nightmares, [194] like the face of a nameless Starfleet officer he had seen floating in space twenty-five years ago.

  The battle was not over. In fact, it had yet to begin in earnest.

  And there was a lesson he had learned from Captain Rodriguez, and Captain Shannon, and Admiral Jefferies, and countless officers in the service since. That lesson was that the struggle was not over until the last option found, the last ounce of reserve used, the last sacrifice made.

  Justman had been surprised too many times in his career to rule out another surprise. He had seen too many opportunities created by better men than he to think that there were no solutions out there.

  Until one of those solutions came, he would do his job and his duty to the best of his ability. And when they did come, he vowed to be ready.

  “Admiral,” his yeoman’s voice sounded on the intercom.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “They need you in the situation room,” she said.

  “I am on my way. Have Lieutenant West meet me there,” Justman said.

  A moment later, he left his office and the Golden Gate Bridge behind him.

  Lieutenant West reached Admiral Justman in the corridor. The admiral nodded to him and motioned him to follow.