“Let’s go.” Kromm again took point and pressed ahead.
A moment later an alarm sounded through the subterranean tunnels.
* * *
Lenissa zh’Thiin looked up when the piercing sound of a pit siren started wailing. She couldn’t see anything because they had put the sack back over her head, but she heard men shouting and sensed that everyone went into a frenzy. She thought she heard shots being fired in the distance.
“Jenna,” she whispered.
“I hear it,” the engineer whispered. “It sounds like our people are coming to set us free.”
Mokbar growled something in his mother tongue that Lenissa didn’t understand.
“Klingons,” he added in Federation Standard. “Disruptors.”
“He’s right,” the Andorian woman said. “That’s not just phaser fire. I can hear Klingon weapons as well.” She began to hope that they might survive this day after all.
Someone grabbed Lenissa’s legs and untied them, before clasping her arm. “Get up!” one of her captors demanded.
The security chief didn’t make any effort to follow that instruction, but she was hauled to her feet. Finally, the sack was pulled off her head. This time, the Renao wasn’t masked. The combined attack from Starfleet and Klingons must have come as a surprise to this cell of extremists. For the first time, Lenissa could see her tormentor’s face. He seemed surprisingly young, not a year older than she was. Despite his youth, he had a grim aura and in his violet eyes burnt a flame that would have been regarded as a sign of madness in other species.
“Come with me,” the man snapped at her. “If you refuse…” He slapped her antennae which sent a nauseating pain through her skull.
Kirk and Mokbar were also hauled onto their feet next to Lenissa. A few men with outdated-looking guns scurried past them. Two more Renao threw stuff into a crate in the room next door. They’re trying to escape, Lenissa realized. So their defense must be faltering. She had to buy some time… somehow.
The man raised his hand again.
“No!” she shouted. Her shoulders and antennae slumped forward as she feigned capitulation. “I’m coming.”
“Let’s go then.” The man turned to his comrades, issuing orders before they all rushed off.
“They’re taking us to some ships,” Kirk translated what she heard.
Lenissa was surprised. “They have ships down here?”
“Apparently.”
“We need to buy some time.”
“Quiet!” her captor demanded, dragging her with him. Lenissa allowed herself to be hauled forward but a few steps later she stumbled at a ledge and fell. The impact was hard because she couldn’t soften it with her hands but she accepted that, if her ploy would only work.
The Renao cursed as she almost brought him down with her. He managed to steady himself at the last moment. He grabbed Lenissa’s uniform tunic and yanked her to her feet. At the same time he pulled his weapon—an old-fashioned model that shot projectiles—from his belt. Panting, he held the muzzle of the archaic looking killing tool under her nose. “No silly tricks, or you’ll regret it.”
Lenissa glared at him. “Oh really? If you wanted to kill us, we’d be dead by now. So you obviously need us as insurance.”
“Not all of you,” the man replied. He turned around, pointing his gun at Jenna Kirk.
Horrified, the engineer’s eyes widened—as did the eyes of the man clutching her arm. Before one of them had a chance to say anything, the man with the weapon fired a shot at point blank range. The pistol’s report was deafening in the narrow corridor, and Kirk winced. She yelped in horror and stared aghast at her right upper arm, where a blood stain expanded slowly.
“Are you going to do what I say now, or should I shoot her in the stomach as well?” the man asked. “You have no idea how painful these bullets are when they hit your body.”
Kirk had turned pale, and she was grinding her teeth, while swaying back and forth. She was probably just short of fainting.
Hesitantly, Lenissa gave up her resistance. She was ready to die for the ideals and the protection of Starfleet. But it was also her duty to protect the Prometheus crew. Besides, dying in these dimly lit tunnels was pointless. They had to live and continue fighting if they wanted a chance to put a stop to the terrorists’ activities.
“You will pay for that,” she said quietly.
The Renao shook his head. “No, you will pay—for quite a lot, as it happens.”
* * *
Kromm leaped behind a metal crate to take cover. Where he had stood a moment before, a blinding energy bolt cut through the tunnel’s cold air. The Klingon lifted his disruptor rifle and fired back. One Renao was hit. Screaming, he whirled around before collapsing with a gaping, smoldering hole in his chest.
Kromm growled, satisfied. This mission finally began to take a turn to his liking.
His people’s shots hissed through the tunnel next to him. Across the corridor stood Starfleet officers, firing short, precise bursts of fire. The Tellarite Gral was hit on the hip. His personal shield flickered yellow and disintegrated. The fight had been going on for several minutes, and the protective energy fields had increasing difficulties handling the ballistic projectiles that the Renao fired from their outdated weapons. Another shot hit Gral in the arm, and he dropped his weapon.
“Retreat,” Roaas ordered the Tellarite. “You can’t do much here.”
“Negative, Commander,” answered Gral. He bent down, picking up his rifle with his left hand. “I still have a second arm.”
In front of them another defender fell to the ground. The rest of the Renao took to their heels.
“Charge!” Kromm shouted and ran. The others followed suit.
Suddenly, the tunnel exploded.
* * *
A thunderclap echoed through the tunnels. Lenissa felt a strong draft in her back. Dust fell from the ceiling.
Her kidnapper grinned ominously.
“That should keep your friends busy—if they’re not dead already. Fools! Did they really think we weren’t prepared for an attack?”
Lenissa spat a curse in her mother tongue at him, as she had run out of ideas. She prayed to Uzaveh, the Infinite and Eternal, that none of her friends had been caught in the explosion. The notion that Roaas, Carson, or Geron had died trying to rescue her was unbearable.
The three Renao kept running, dragging Lenissa, Mokbar, and the injured Kirk with them. They rounded a corner into a vast cave with a high ceiling. Lenissa’s eyes widened when she spotted almost two dozen small space ships scattered around the cave. Most of them were small transports for freight and passengers, but in one corner were three large, sleek ships with prominent weapons systems.
A frenzy of activity surrounded the vessels. The Renao loaded freight containers and barrels with dangerous goods symbols. This is larger than I thought, Lenissa thought. She wondered whether they had been taken to the secret headquarters of the Purifying Flame.
The back of the cave was open, looking out onto a craggy mountain landscape. The young Andorian woman was confused for a moment. Such a big opening in the rock would have been a much better starting point for an attack from the combined Starfleet and Klingon task force. Why did her companions fight their way through the narrow tunnels? But then she spotted a slight flicker in the air before the panoramic view. A holographic field. These terrorists never ceased to amaze her. They attacked with Scorpions—but they fired projectile weapons. They hid in caves—yet they concealed the entrances behind sophisticated holotechnology.
Their guide ushered her toward one of the shuttles. “Get in there. We’re leaving Onferin.”
“Where are you taking us?” Kirk enquired, panting. Her uniform sleeve was drenched in blood but she bravely stayed on her feet.
The man glanced at her derisively. “You’ll find out, won’t you? Get in!”
“No!” With a strong yank, Lenissa managed to break free from the Renao and started running. She had no ide
a where she should run to, but she knew that she could not climb aboard that spacecraft. If the Renao escaped with them aboard that ship, she, Kirk, and Mokbar were as good as dead.
The man shouted something after her that she didn’t understand. Two Renao, a man and woman, hauling a container into the cargo hold dropped it and ran toward Lenissa, trying to intercept her. The security chief bent forward, ramming her shoulder into the woman, flinging her aside. She avoided the man who attempted to grab her with a quick sidestep before kicking him between the legs, hoping that he was as delicate in that spot as most humanoid males were. He was.
She heard the report of a shot behind her—not the humming of a stun beam but a shot from the projectile weapons.
Lenissa ducked her head and kept running across the cave in the vague hope that she would buy some time for their rescuers to reach them. A bullet ricocheted off the outer hull of a shuttle. Another one hit the ground in front of her feet. She wanted to take cover behind a stack of crates when she felt a burning sensation on her thigh. A hot streak of pain jolted through her and she lost her footing. Lenissa screamed and staggered. She wanted to limp on but the leg gave way underneath her. Panting she collapsed on the ground.
A few seconds later her tormentor had reached her. He bent down to her, hitting her in the face with a fist. “You…” Another hit. “… are…” Another hit. “… driving me…” A fourth hit. “…crazy.”
Lenissa lost consciousness.
* * *
Coughing, Kromm got to his feet. Dust hung in the air in the corridor and small pieces of rock covered the ground. His arms and legs were stinging where tiny stone fragments had hit him. He shook off the pain like a targ did unwanted parasites from its fur.
Kromm glanced around. Two members of his task force had been hit hard. One of the warriors—Klarn—was still alive, but his leg had been crushed by a large rock. It was uncertain how long he would last without treatment. One of the Starfleet members lay motionless on the ground—the Tellarite Gral whose personal shield had failed shortly before the blast. His crushed skull didn’t leave any doubts as to whether he was still alive or not. All others had been lucky. They’d been thrown to the ground by the blast but their shields seemed to have prevented serious injuries. Groaning, they scrambled to their feet.
The captain bent down to pick up the disruptor that he had dropped. “Bocar,” he addressed one of his people. “Take care of Klarn. Get him outside and make sure he’s beamed to the shuttle. Then catch up to us.”
“Yes, Captain,” Bocar confirmed, shouldering the injured man.
Kromm took a few steps forward and found the tunnel blocked. Cursing, he turned around. “We need to find another way.”
“There is no other way,” Lieutenant Paxon replied. “The first branch was behind the Renao’s defense line—and that is buried beneath stone.”
“Well, we’ll shoot a path through it.” Kromm pointed his disruptor at the rocks that were blocking their path.
“Sir, don’t forget the tekasite,” Moore warned.
Kromm laughed. “The tunnel has just been blown up. If that didn’t ignite the tekasite, our shots won’t pose much danger, I’d say.”
Commander Roaas nodded. “I agree with the captain. In this part of the tunnel there doesn’t seem to be any tekasite ore. But you should check again, just to be on the safe side, Paxon.”
The deputy security chief pulled his tricorder out again, sweeping the wall. “You’re right, sir. The wall is clean.”
“In that case, fire,” Kromm ordered. “Maximum energy.”
Three disruptor blasts and four phaser beams hit the rubble that had fallen from the ceiling, vaporizing it instantly. Several boulders dropped down but they spread out and didn’t pose insurmountable obstacles. Kromm ran ahead, the others followed him.
The tunnel forked. Roaas sent Paxon along with Moore and Cenia in the right passageway. The Caitian stayed with Kromm and his remaining two soldiers. As quickly as possible they advanced into the secret hideout of the extremists. They didn’t meet any more resistance. The Renao seemed to have taken advantage of the minutes after blowing up the corridor and escaped. The strike team passed hastily abandoned sleeping places and an arsenal that hadn’t been completely cleared out. Finally, they came across the body of a Klingon, lying in a small room they had to pass through.
Bekk Morketh knelt beside the dead man. “It’s Grakk, Captain. He has been beaten to death—like a wild Ha’DIbaH.”
Kromm’s face distorted with rage.
“They’re going to pay for that!” It took him quite some effort not to intone the death howl.
In the distance they heard a faint hissing noise that multiplied quickly.
“Those are engines,” Kromm said. “The cowards are attempting to escape.” He ran, abandoning all regard for safety. The fanatics mustn’t get away. He wanted to drive a knife into their bodies and taste their blood.
They rounded several corners before reaching a subterranean cave that had been cut into the mountain.
“No!” cried Kromm when he saw the last two of an unknown number of escaping ships take off and disappear through a wide exit. He yanked his disruptor up, firing at them to no avail. Quickly the two transporter ships vanished. Little spots on the red sky showed that even more ships were on their way to orbit.
Roaas stood beside Kromm and touched his combadge.
“Roaas to shuttle Charles Coryell. Come in.”
“We hear you, sir,” a faint voice said through the interference.
“Call the Prometheus. The followers of the Purifying Flame have escaped with their hostages. They’re fleeing into orbit. They must be stopped at all costs before they can go into warp!”
“Understood, Commander.”
Frustrated, Kromm kicked an abandoned barrel. He had been cheated out of his honorable victory. Now it was down to Adams and L’emka to stop their enemies and to save the surviving hostages. He glared at the sky.
“Show us what you’ve got, Captain.”
36
NOVEMBER 15, 2385
U.S.S. Prometheus, Onferin
“Red alert!” Adams ordered when he received the away team’s warning. Since Roaas and the others had set off to rescue zh’Thiin, Kirk, and the two Klingons, he had been fidgeting in his command chair on the Prometheus bridge, waiting for their report.
Now he had received a report—and he needed to act.
“Battle stations!”
Sarita Carson rose from her place at ops immediately and hurried toward the turbolift. She needed to get to the battle bridge of the lower hull section.
Lieutenant Shantherin th’Talias and the officers from the beta shift would gather on the bridge of the upper section. There was no need to staff all three sections of the Prometheus, as the tactical computer was capable of controlling the sections when they separated for multivector attacks. But Adams preferred to have his personnel in control. As sophisticated as computers might be, they were not capable of making the decisions that sometimes needed to be made during a battle.
The turbolift door hissed open again, and Ensign Robert Vogel entered the bridge to take over at ops. Next to him at conn, Jassat ak Namur sat up straight. He had been called back when the rescue operation for the hostages had begun. Adams wished his executive officers—Roaas, zh’Thiin or Paxon—were by his side right now. But all of them were down on Onferin. He had to make do with the men and women who were still aboard. And they’re all extremely well trained Starfleet officers, he reminded himself. That’s why they’re here, assigned to this ship.
“Battle bridges are ready,” Winter announced from the communications station.
“Understood,” Adams replied without turning around. His eyes were fixed on the bridge’s main screen. “Ensign Vogel, how many escaping ships are we dealing with?”
The stocky man’s fingers danced on the console surface. “I’m reading eleven small spacecraft; seven are transport shuttles of various types, th
ree are attack fighters according to their energy signatures. The shuttles are escaping on different vectors. The attack fighters are approaching us and the Bortas.”
“Find out which of the ships our people are being held on.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Captain, the Bortas is hailing us,” Winter interrupted.
“Open frequency, audio only.”
“This is Commander L’emka,” the Bortas’s first officer said. “We will deal with the attack fighters, Captain. You go and catch those shuttles with our officers.”
Strictly speaking, Adams should have given these orders but he felt that now wasn’t the right time to argue over petty details. “Understood.” On the main screen he watched the Vor’cha-class cruiser pass his ship as the Klingons threw themselves into the fight with ardor.
Adams turned back to ops. “Mr. Vogel, report.”
“I’m sorry, Captain. The radiation from the primary star is interfering with our sensors. I can read life forms aboard the shuttles but I can’t distinguish whether they are Renao, human, or Andorian.”
Adams uttered a curse. He wished he hadn’t ordered Lieutenant Tabor not to modify the sensors after Captain Kromm had pointed them in the direction of the hostages. Adams had assumed that it would no longer be necessary to weaken the general sensor performance in order to increase the focus. “Looks like we’re doing it the hard way,” he mumbled. “Ship by ship.” He gazed at Lieutenant Chell at the technical station. “Lieutenant, do your utmost to compensate for the radiation’s interferences.”
The Bolian nodded dutifully. “Aye, sir.”
The turbolift door opened and Ambassador Spock entered the bridge. “Captain, if I can be of any assistance… I have significant experience with precarious situations.”
Adams sized him up. On the one hand he was grateful that the famous Starfleet officer offered his services; on the other hand, he had reservations. The half-Vulcan had been a civilian for the better part of a century now.
Spock raised an eyebrow. “If you are concerned that I am not capable of handling the Prometheus’s systems, I can dispel your concerns. I have had ample opportunities during these past days to familiarize myself with the ship’s controls.”
Star Trek Prometheus -Fire with Fire Page 29
