Star Trek - TOS - 79 - Invasion 1 - First Strike
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the murder of a Starfleet serviceman and a guest of the
Federation. Counsel will be provided if you require it."
Kellen made a small conciliatory bow. "I know. I shall
face those charges boldly. I accept your offer of counsel,
as it will go in my favor to have Federation lawyers
speaking to a Federation court."
"Very wise, and probably true, General. There are
considerable mitigating circumstances. Be forewarned
that I take the death of my crewman very seriously and I
intend to testify against you. However, I'll also testify
that you stopped the assault on Capella Four and by
doing that probably forestailed many other deaths. It'll
be an interesting few months for us both, I think."
"I am ready. I confess that I do not understand what
makes you humans fight. You did destroy them after all,
but even though I told you what these people were, it
took you a very long time to decide to act."
"On the contrary," Kirk pointed out, "I decided not to
act rashly. That too is a decision. You were right about
who they were, but you were wrong about what they
were. No one is inherently evil. That comes only from
the choices we make and the actions we take."
"Perhaps." Kellen's small eyes twinkled. "I wish you
people would fight against us. What a grand war we
could have!"
Kirk leered at him, now somewhat amused in spite of
everything. He felt an unbidden grin pull' at his cheeks.
"Maybe someday, General."
287
Diane Carey
"Sir!" Staaltenburg called. "it's open."
Kirk glanced around the vast, high-halled flight deck.
"McCoy! Over here."
He waited for the doctor to join them, then nodded to
Staaltenburg. "Go ahead, Lieutenant."
Together, Staaltenburg and the two other crewmen
hauled open a very thick hatch on the black pod. There
was no light inside, but only a slight gush of atmosphere
as the pod equalized.
"Get a light," Staaltenburg ordered, 'and one of the
crewmen passed him a handheld utility light.
The crewmen, the general, the doctor, and the commodore
pressed into a half-circle and huddled up before the
open hatch.
"Well, I'll be damned," McCoy spouted.
The light cast a bright blue-white glow inside the pod.
There, with tiny faces in many shapes, their bodies
stuffed with memories, lay carefully stacked what must
have been over a thousand linen poppets.
Kirk looked at McCoy.
"Rag dolls?" Staaltenburg blurted. "They bothered to
save a bunch of rag dolls?"
They stood back from the hatch, contemplating what
they saw there.
"You want me to have these disposed of, sir?" the
lieutenant offered, clearly aggravated that he'd gone to
the trouble of capturing and towing in a pod that turned
out to be stuffed with stuffed dolls.
Kirk gazed into the bubble of tiny sojourners and
remembered a moment, a conversation, that might have
flowered into something very good, had the past not
thrown out its tripwire.
"No, Lieutenant. I want these carefully catalogued,
then permanently stored in airtight containers. It's a
trust I owe to a friend."
Staaltenburg frowned, then shrugged. "As you wish,
sir."
The lieutenant and his men moved off to follow their
assignment, and McCoy was watching Kirk. He was the
288
FIRST STRIKE
only one who understood the strange order, and Kirk
found comfort in that.
"Very nice, Captain," the doctor offered. "I don't
know what else we can do."
"If that door ever opens again," Kirk said, "we may
need a peace offering. And their families will want to...
have those."
McCoy nodded. "Zennor would be glad to know you
picked them up, Jim. In spite of everything, I believe
that."
"Captain," Staaltenburg called from the bulkhead,
and motioned at the comm unit. "Mr. Spock, sir."
McCoy followed as Kirk headed over to the port side,
both of them a little too aware of that pod back there.
"Kirk here."
"Spock, sir, "the baritone voice came through. "I have
translated the telemetry. The message was launched at
nearly warp twenty-five. I had believed such speed impossible,
but they have somehow overcome that. I remind you
there is still no way to know whether or not the message
went through the fissure or will travel on its own to the
other side of the galaxy."
"Go ahead, Mr. Spock. I think I'm beyond surprises."
"I hope so, sir. The message is from Zennor himself It
states, 'The Battle of Garamanus is lost. We have not
survived, but this is our rightful place. Try again.""
289
The
Invasion
Continues
,BOOK TWO
The Soldiers of Fear
The message from Starfleet had been curt. Assemble
the senior officers. Prepare for a Security One message
at 0900. Picard hadn't heard a Security One message
since the Borg were headed for Earth. The highest
level code. Extreme emergency. Override all other protocols. Abandon all previous orders.
Something serious had happened.
He leaned over the replicator. He had only a
moment until the senior officers arrived.
"Earl Grey, hot," he said, and the empty space on
the replicator shimmered before a clear glass mug
filled with steaming tea appeared. He gripped the mug
by its warm body, slipping his thumb through the
handle, and took a sip, allowing the liquid to calm
him.
He had no clue what this might be about and that
worried him. He always kept abreast of activity in the
quadrant. He knew the subtlest changes in the political
breeze. The Romulans had been quiet of late; the
Cardassians had been cooperating with Bajor. No
new ships had been sighted in any sector, and no
small rebel groups were taking their rebellions into
space. Maybe it was the Klingons?
He should have had an inkling.
His door hissed open and Beverly Crusher came in.
Geordi La Forge was beside her. Data followed. The
doctor and Geordi looked worried. Data had his usual
look of expectant curiosity.
The door hadn't even had a chance to close before
Deanna Troi came in. She was in uniform, a habit she
had started just recently. Worf saw her and left his
post on the bridge, following her to his position in the
meeting room.
Only Commander Riker was missing and he was
needed. Picard waited anxiously.
It was 0859.
Then the door hissed a final time and Will Riker
entered. His workout clothes were sweat streaked, his
hair damp. Over his shoulder he had draped a towel,
which he instantly took off and wadded in a ball in his
hand.
"Sorry, sir," he said, "but from your voice, I fi
gured
I wouldn't have time to change."
"You were right, Will," Picard said. "We're about
to get a message from Starfleet Command. They
requested that all senior officers be in attendance--"
The viewer on the captain's desk snapped on with
the Federation's symbol, indicating a scrambled communique.
"Message sent to Picard, Captain, U.S.S. Enterprise
V," said the generic female computer voice.
"Please confirm identity and status."
Picard placed a hand on the screen on his desk.
"Picard, Jean-Luc, Captain, U.S.S. Enterprise. Security
Code 1-B58A."
The computer beeped.
Picard's palms were damp. He grabbed his cup of
tea, but the tea was growing cold. Still, he drank the
rest, barely tasting the tea's bouquet.
When the security protocol ended, the Federation
symbol disappeared from the screen, replaced by the
battle-scarred face of Admiral Kirschbaum. His features
had tightened in that emotionless yet urgent
expression the oldest--and best--commanders had
in times of emergency.
"Jean-Luc. We have no time for discussion. A
sensor array at the Furies Point has been destroyed.
Five ships of unknown origin are there now, along
with what seems to be a small black hole. Two of the
.ships attacked the Brundage Station and we're awaitng
word on the outcome. I'm ordering all available
ships to the area at top speed."
The Furies Point. Pcard needed no more explanation
than that. From the serious expressions all
around him, he could tell that his staff understood as
well.
Picard's handtightened on the empty glass mug. He
set it down before he shattered it with his ri "We'r
on our way, Admiral."
g p'
e
"Good." The admiral's mouth tightened. "I hope I
don't have to explain--"
"I understand the urgency, Admiral."
"If those ships are what we believe them to be,
we're at war, Jean-Luc."
How quickly it had happened. One moment he was
on the bridge, preparing for the day's duties. The
next, this.
"I will act accordingly, Admiral."
The admiral nodded. "You don't have much time,
Jean-Luc. I will contact you in one hour with transmissions
from the attack on the Brundage outpost. It
will give you and you r officers some idea of what you
are facing."
"Thank you, Admiral," Picard said.
"Godspeed, Jean-Luc."
"And to you," Picard said, but by the time the
words were out, the admiral's image had winked
away.
Picard felt as if someone had punched him in the
stomach.
The Furies.
The rest of the staff looked as stunned as he felt.
Except for Data. When Picard met his gaze, Data
said quietly, "It will take us two point three-eight
hours at warp nine to reach Brundage Station."
"Then lay in a course, Mr. Data, and engage. We
don't have time to waste."
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THE SOLDIERS OF FEAR
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