by Dayton Ward
The ship lurched as more Tholian weapons fire struck the deflector shields, and everyone on the bridge gripped their consoles as the deck heaved. Despite the artificial gravity and inertial damping systems, the effects of the prolonged assault and the need to transfer ever-increasing amounts of power from other areas of the ship to strengthen its defenses were beginning to take their toll. The rescue maneuvers in which the Enterprise and Endeavour had engaged left the starships vulnerable to Tholian attack, but at the time the enemy vessels had seemed obsessed with pummeling Starbase 47. It was apparent now that the aggressors had deduced what the Endeavour was attempting and were changing their tactics.
“More buckling in the starboard shields aft,” Spock reported from the science station. “Engineering is rerouting power from other sections to compensate.”
“Continue firing, Mister Chekov,” Kirk ordered, turning so that he once again was facing forward. He studied the image of the Endeavour as it raced ahead of the Enterprise, circling the space station in an orbit that was so close and dangerous that it had triggered every possible proximity sensor and collision threat alert. Near the edges of the viewscreen, Tholian vessels darted into and out of view, firing their weapons either at the station or at the pair of beleaguered starships. Kirk winced as a burst of energy plowed into the Endeavour’s hull, and his thoughts turned to the crew of the other ship as they labored to effect emergency repairs under such hellish conditions. How much longer could they last? During her last transmission to the Enterprise, Captain Khatami had said they needed only another minute to get their warp drive back online, but that interval had expired.
“Spock?” Kirk prompted. “What’s going on over there?”
The Vulcan, his face bathed in the cool blue light of the science console’s sensor viewer, replied, “The Endeavour’s warp drive is still off-line.”
“What about the station?” Kirk asked. “The Shedai?”
There was a noticeable pause as Spock continued to consult his instruments. “The Shedai life readings appear to be restricted to one area of the station’s central core. It is the same section as the elevated power readings we detected. Something seems to be keeping the Shedai contained there.”
Had Nogura and his people devised some means of combating the Shedai? It was a question Kirk was sure would never be answered to any degree of satisfaction, and dwelling on it now served no useful purpose. “If you’re right, and the station does have a self-destruct, whoever’s still over there is obviously holding off for us to get clear before they trigger it.” Was someone standing by, waiting until the last possible moment before being beamed out by the Endeavour? Were they trapped, unable to be rescued, or had they elected to remain at their post, working to prevent the Shedai from somehow interfering with the self-destruct? If that were the case, then the longer the Enterprise and Endeavour remained here, the more their already untenable position possibly also served to undermine whatever crazy plan had been put into motion aboard the all-but-overwhelmed space station.
Come on, Kirk thought, his apprehension mounting with each passing second. Come on!
His stomach felt as though it might be trying to flip over on itself as the Enterprise was rocked by another Tholian salvo. The deck lifted, the ship’s gravity and damping systems struggling to keep up as Kirk was pushed back into his chair. More alarms sounded around the bridge as various status and alert indicators flashed red. As the Enterprise settled in the wake of the latest assault, Kirk glanced around the various stations, verifying that no one had been injured.
Spock, looking up from his sensor displays, said, “The Tholians appear to be redistributing their attack vessels, diverting a considerable number toward us and the Endeavour.”
“I think they’ve finally got us locked in,” Chekov added, casting a glance over his shoulder. “Shields down to sixty-four percent, sir.”
“Captain,” Spock said, “the station’s primary shield generators are off-line.” As though punctuating his report, the main viewscreen now displayed dozens of new impacts against the starbase’s hull. Unhindered by the station’s deflector shields, each new strike was inflicting far more damage as the enemy weapons chewed through duranium plating and found the less-resistant materials comprising Vanguard’s defenseless interior areas.
Whatever time remained to them could likely be counted in seconds, Kirk decided, and not very many of those. While the Enterprise conceivably could outrun any enemy pursuers if he gave the order to withdraw, he had no intention of leaving Atish Khatami and her crew at the Tholians’ mercy. But beyond providing simple covering fire, there was precious little else he could do if the Tholians had decided to leave no survivors.
“Captain!” Uhura all but shouted, and when Kirk turned toward her he saw that the communications officer’s expression was one of fresh excitement. “The Endeavour’s signaling us. Their warp drive is back online!”
“Then let’s get the hell out of here,” Kirk snapped, once again offering thanks to those deities who chose to smile upon starship engineers. “Sulu!” Even as he spoke the helmsman’s name, he saw that the lieutenant already was taking action. His fingers moved at uncanny speed, manipulating the controls before him as he worked to guide the Enterprise toward safety.
“The Endeavour has broken orbit,” Spock reported from his station. “A few Tholian vessels are altering their attack vectors to pursue, but most appear to be continuing their assault on the station.”
“Watch our backs, Chekov,” Kirk said. “Keep the shields angled aft and concentrate firepower to cover the Endeavour’s withdrawal.” On the viewscreen, the image of the station fell out of the frame as the Enterprise banked away, picking up speed and heading for open space. There still were far too many Tholian warships for his liking, but he saw that Chekov was addressing that issue as well. Concentrating the ship’s firepower forward, the navigator was not aiming for the enemy vessels so much as he was simply trying to scare them out of the starship’s flight path. His tactic, so far as Kirk could see, was having the intended effect.
“Warp eight,” the captain ordered. “Get us to the evacuation convoy.” Glancing toward the science station, he asked, “Spock? The Endeavour?”
Once more consulting his sensor data, the Vulcan nodded. “It has accelerated to warp and is on course for the convoy.” He then added, “Captain, I am detecting a massive power surge from within the station.” When he said nothing else, Kirk looked toward the first officer to see him turning from his console. Spock’s expression offered nothing, though the captain could see in his friend’s eyes what he had not said aloud.
“On screen,” Kirk said, rising from his chair as the main screen shifted from its view of onrushing stars to depict Starbase 47. Dozens of Tholian vessels darted around the station, many of them continuing to fire at it even as they worked to evade Vanguard’s weapons. Stepping around Sulu at the helm, Kirk had time for one final look at the station, silhouetted against the stars, before an enormous ball of white light burst from deep within its core. Instinct pulled his hands to his face to shield his eyes from the assault, but the viewscreen automatically adjusted its resolution to compensate. The blast spread in the space of mere heartbeats, consuming the station and the scores of enemy warships around it. A cloud of ionized gases pushed outward, sending with it whatever debris had not been annihilated by the massive matter/antimatter detonation. Then the blast began to fade, leaving nothing but the bits of twisted wreckage that were the only evidence that the Watchtower-class space station had ever been there at all.
“Oh, my god,” Kirk heard Uhura say, her voice barely a whisper. When he looked over his shoulder, he saw that she had moved from her own station and now was standing at the rail encircling the command well, tears in her eyes as she fixed her gaze on the viewscreen.
“Spock,” Kirk said, keeping his composure and reminding himself that the battle might not yet be over. “Scan the station’s location for Shedai life signs.”
The science officer said nothing for a moment, once more consulting his instruments before answering, “Sensors detecting no indications of the Shedai.”
Not taking his eyes from the main viewscreen as the last vestiges of the explosion continued to disperse, Kirk prompted, “You’re sure?”
“Affirmative,” Spock replied. “No life readings, and no residual energy traces. They are simply gone, likely obliterated in the explosion.”
Chekov said, “Let’s hope so.”
Amen to that, Kirk mused. “Are there any Tholian survivors?”
“Most of the warships were caught up in the blast,” Spock said. “Those few ships which were tracking us and the Endeavour are breaking off their pursuit.” He adjusted one of his controls before adding, “They appear to be on course for the Tholian border at their best possible speed.”
Kirk nodded. “I guess they’re satisfied that the Shedai are gone.” It certainly appeared as though Admiral Nogura and his people had accomplished at least one of their primary objectives: containing the Shedai threat. There was every reason for Kirk to believe that the top secret project also had borne other fruit, perhaps in ways he would never know or understand, but at what cost? Lives, ships, entire worlds had been lost; relations with interstellar neighbors and adversaries were damaged if not destroyed.
In the final analysis, would the secrets gleaned by Operation Vanguard prove to be worth their staggering price? It was a question for others to answer, Kirk knew.
But I doubt it.
ELEVEN
Stardate 5829.7
Starbase 12
Neither Kirk nor Nogura said anything for several long moments, and Kirk could tell from the admiral’s expression that the older man had not simply been listening to his report on the final moments of Starbase 47. Pressing his slight frame into the oversized chair, Nogura seemed to be staring at a point in space as he held his teacup between both hands, and Kirk decided he must be recalling the harrowing events as he had experienced them for himself.
“Admiral?” Kirk prompted after a time. “Are you all right?”
Clearing his throat, Nogura nodded before straightening his posture. “Yes. I’m sorry, Kirk. I guess I’m still a bit shaken up by the whole thing.” He blew out his breath, setting his cup back down on its saucer before resting his forearms on the desk. “I’ve been at this a long time, and I’ve even had a starship shot out from under me, but losing an entire space station? That’s a new one.”
“I can only imagine what Starfleet Command had to say about that,” Kirk replied, shifting in his chair. How long had the two of them been sitting here, locked together in this room? At this point, it was the single longest conversation he had shared with Nogura since first meeting the man back on Vanguard. Indeed, he could recall no discussion of comparable length with any flag officer. Such individuals rarely had the time for indulgences of this sort.
Nogura grunted. “It won’t be the most flattering entry in my service record, but it should be the most interesting . . . for a while, at least.” Rising from his chair, he picked up the cup and saucer and made his way to the food slot.
“So,” Kirk said, vacating his own seat and moving to join the admiral, “what happens now?”
“Damned if I know,” Nogura replied. The admiral inserted a data card into the food slot and tapped several buttons on the control pad. “My current orders are to reassign everyone with direct connection to the project back to Starfleet Headquarters on Earth. I’m guessing they, along with all the data and materials we’ve collected, will be debriefed and examined in excruciating detail.
“As for the rest of it, they’ll probably stuff it into a big box and bury it somewhere, and maybe me along with it. The whole thing’s toxic right now.” The slot’s door slid upward and Nogura took a tentative sip of steaming tea, then offered Kirk a wayward glance. “If I’d read you completely into the project, you and anyone else you brought into the loop would be on a transport heading for Earth right now. You’re welcome.”
Kirk was unable to suppress a smile as Nogura returned to his desk. Leaning against the wall, the captain crossed his arms. “They can’t keep the whole thing a secret forever, sir. The Shedai were a known threat, one believed to be too strong and powerful for us to defend against. How does Starfleet plan to explain their defeat? At least, in such a way that it convinces people the Shedai won’t be back?”
Sighing, Nogura replied, “So far as we’re aware, no one outside the project has any appreciable knowledge of the Shedai beyond what’s already been released, either through Starfleet channels or news reports published by . . . other parties.”
“You mean Pennington.” Kirk frowned as he considered the journalist. Timothy Pennington, through circumstance, fate, or luck, had found himself on the front lines of Starfleet’s unofficial “war” with the Shedai almost from the beginning. He had been among the survivors transported from Starbase 47 just prior to its destruction. “I’m surprised that he hasn’t been corralled by Starfleet or Federation authorities as a possible security threat, even if only temporarily.” Of course, detaining the reporter for any reason, but particularly if he had committed no actual crime, would bring about a host of new problems, which some might argue paled in comparison to the potential harm Pennington might cause if he decided to write and release even more detailed accounts of Starfleet’s final battle with the Shedai.
Some might argue that, but Kirk did not consider himself among that group.
“Pennington won’t be an issue,” Nogura said. “To this point, we’ve had what you might call an ‘understanding’ about the whole thing. I doubt he’ll be happy with how things play out, but I don’t expect he’ll make too much fuss.” When Kirk started to respond, the admiral held up his hand. “I’ll handle Tim Pennington, Captain. So far as the public at large will know, the Shedai attacked Starbase 47, and the Tholians came to our aid. Destroying the station was the only way of defeating the Shedai.” He paused, as though pondering the veracity of what he had just said. “Just enough truth in there to make it plausible.”
Kirk frowned. “And the Tholians are on board with this?”
“For now, at any rate,” Nogura replied. “Oh, they’re upset, all right. According to the last report I received, Tholian ambassadors were ripping into the Federation Council and the Diplomatic Corps. After all, this whole thing was our fault, but it’s not as though we were the best of friends before all this started. On the other hand, they’d rather downplay their history with the Shedai. They seem to think it’s not good for your reputation as an interstellar aggressor if it’s known your ancestors were once slaves.” He shook his head. “Tactically speaking, they’re hurting. They lost a significant portion of their fleet during the battle. It’ll take them some time to replace those assets, to say nothing of the casualties they suffered. Still, I don’t think they’ll be coming for revenge or anything like that. I imagine they’ll retreat back behind their borders and we’ll leave each other alone, at least for a while. We’re already fairly sure they’ll never forget what happened; I seriously doubt they’ll ever forgive us, either.”
For a moment, Kirk imagined the tenor of conversations between the diplomats representing both governments. If what Nogura said was true, the Tholian Assembly might well prove to be a thorn in the side of the Federation for years to come. Would there ever be a time when the two interstellar powers might be allies rather than adversaries? Of that, Kirk was less than hopeful.
“So what happens now?” he asked.
Rising from his seat, Nogura stepped around his desk. “We do what we always do, Kirk: we tend to our duty. I imagine Starfleet will find something for me somewhere. The Endeavour and the Sagittarius will be back in the game soon enough, supporting the legitimate exploration and colonization efforts in the Taurus Reach. That should be more than enough to occupy their attention for a long while. As for you, the Enterprise’s repairs will be finished in a couple of days, after which you’ll resume your re
gular assignments. I’d like to think that’d keep you out of trouble, but I know better.”
Kirk forced himself not to laugh. “I’ll try to behave, sir.” Sensing that the meeting was reaching its conclusion, he stood and held out his hand. “It was an honor serving with you, sir. I only wish it could’ve been under better circumstances.”
“Agreed,” the admiral replied, taking Kirk’s proffered hand and shaking it. “My compliments to your ship and your crew, Captain. They did a hell of a thing. Without them, and you, Operation Vanguard might well have ended on an even worse note than it did. Now, your orders are to forget all about it.”
Offering a knowing, humorless smile, Kirk asked, “Forget about what, Admiral?”
• • •
Stardate 5830.4
U.S.S. Enterprise
On the main viewscreen, the image of sloping metal bulkheads gave way to open space as the ship maneuvered out of Starbase 12’s docking bay. Beyond the confines of the mammoth space station, the stars beckoned to Kirk.
Across the bridge, Lieutenant Sulu turned to look at him from the helm console. “We’re free of the dock, Captain, and clear to navigate.”
From where he stood leaning against the curved red railing separating him from the science station, Kirk did not take his eyes from the viewscreen as he acknowledged the report. “Excellent,” he said, crossing his arms. “Proceed on course; ahead warp factor three.”
“Warp three, aye,” Sulu said, entering the necessary instructions to the helm.
Looking to his left, Kirk turned his attention to Lieutenant Uhura. “Notify the dock master of our departure heading and relay one final thanks to Commodore DeRoché for his hospitality.”
