by Dayton Ward
Garrovick shrugged. “Korax doesn’t usually tolerate abuse toward the prisoners, probably because he doesn’t get enough replacements to keep his dilithium quota up. He doesn’t have any choice but to keep us reasonably healthy.”
“It could also be that he had orders to see that no harm came to you or any of your crew.”
Garrovick shook his head as he reached out to brush aside a vine drooping across his path. “If that’s so, then the order only came after he took over the camp. It sure didn’t come in time to save Captain Gralev.”
Kirk nodded tightly in agreement. “I know about what happened to her. It was part of the information Koloth provided. He’s the reason we came looking for you.”
At the mention of the Klingon’s name, Garrovick’s expression turned questioning. “Did we sign a treaty with the Klingons or something?”
Shaking his head, Kirk replied, “No, I’m afraid not, though we might finally be close to it.” Kirk relayed the events that had begun at Starbase 49.
“So the Klingons denied even having us in custody all this time,” Garrovick said. “We didn’t want to accept that, but after a while it just sort of seemed inescapable. When you live in a vacuum for years, it’s easy to think everybody’s forgotten about you. Well, I guess I should be thankful that Mom thought I was dead rather than a prisoner. That would have been harder for her to take, I think.” At that thought, he looked at Kirk again.
“Did Koloth have any information on the rest of the crew? They only brought a handful of us here. I’d always assumed that they’d separated us and sent us to different gulags around the Empire. Other than those who were brought here with me, I haven’t heard about anyone else from the Gagarin since the attack.”
Kirk shook his head. “He didn’t have anything else. But now that we know some of you survived, we have reason to confront the Empire about the rest of the crew.”
“Then that’s another reason for us to get the hell out of here.”
Turning at the sound of the new voice, Kirk and Garrovick saw Sydney Elliot walking three paces behind them. Kirk marveled at her stealth, not having heard her approach.
“Captain Kirk, I’d like to introduce Ensign Sydney Elliot, formerly a member of the Gagarin ’s security detachment.”
Elliot disregarded the introduction. “Captain, you know they’ll kill us all rather than let us escape. They can’t afford to have their little secret get out.”
“I don’t think it’s that simple, Ensign,” Kirk replied. “If they’d wanted you dead, they would have killed you years ago. As potential pawns in a larger political game, you’re far more valuable to the Klingons alive.”
An insistent beeping from his tricorder begged for Kirk’s attention.
“Koloth,” he said as he studied the device’s small display, “they’re coming.” As the Klingon walked back to join him, Kirk held up the tricorder for him to see.
“How soon before they overtake us?” Koloth asked.
“Maybe two hours, unless we keep moving. They’re moving pretty fast. I guess we didn’t do a good enough job of taking out their transportation.” Kirk examined the tricorder’s scan results once again. “It looks like only two vehicles following us.” Looking at Garrovick he asked, “How many people will one of those things carry?”
“A dozen or so,” Garrovick replied.
Koloth glanced around at the jungle surrounding them. “The terrain here will eventually force them to follow us on foot, but they will still move faster than us. We will have to stand and fight.”
Frowning, Kirk considered their prospects. He had no doubt that the Klingons would find them. Even though he and Sulu had removed the bracelets with their transponders from the ankles of the prisoners, Korax and his men would have tricorders with them. Using the shuttle’s crash site as a starting point, it wouldn’t take them long to triangulate on the fugitives’ position.
They numbered eight, including the wounded Ra Mhvlovi, while there were at least twenty-four Klingons pursuing them. They would all be armed to the teeth, whereas except for he, Sulu, and Koloth, no one else in the fugitive party would be up for any type of sustained fighting. The phasers he and Sulu had brought and distributed among the prisoners would help, but in the end sheer numbers would work against them.
“There’s no way we’ll beat them in a stand up fight,” Kirk said. “We need to find a place to hole up.” He adjusted the tricorder’s scan controls and turned in a slow circle until he found what he wanted, then pointed into the jungle.
“That way, there’s a small plateau. We can use that as a defensible position.”
Koloth balked at the idea. “Hide and wait for our enemies to come to us? What kind of way is that to fight?”
“We have to hold out long enough for the Gal’tagh to return,” Kirk replied. “We don’t stand a chance out here in the open.” He didn’t want to add that there was no way of knowing if Koloth’s ship had even received the weak distress signal sent out by the damaged shuttle.
“It is honorable to die fighting for a cause you believe in,” Koloth said, his voice hardening.
Kirk didn’t reply immediately, instead taking a few seconds to scan the faces of Sulu and the prisoners who had by now gathered around them. He saw the looks in their faces, combinations of fear, resignation, and resolve. It was as if each of them had come to the conclusion that today would be the last day any of them would spend on this world, one way or another.
Elliot fixed Kirk with a glare of fierce determination. “I’m not going back to that hellhole, Captain. Either I leave this godforsaken planet or I die trying, and I’m taking as many Klingons with me as I can.” She tightened her grip on the phaser in her hand.
Kirk saw in her tired eyes the unforgiving existence that had been her lot in life during these past years. He didn’t want to imagine the harsh realities that the young security officer and her companions had faced while in captivity. Were he in their position, he knew he would feel the same way.
Turning to look back at Koloth, he said, “My mission is to get these people out of here, Koloth, and that’s precisely what I intend to do, any way I can. If that means we hide and ambush them, then so be it.”
Regarding Kirk for several seconds, Koloth finally nodded, a small smile forming on his lips. “Coming from any other Earther, I would have considered your words to be those of a coward, Kirk. But I know better than that.” He gestured into the jungle with his free hand. “Lead us.”
As he led his ragtag group of followers deeper into the jungle, Kirk’s thoughts turned to the coming battle. There could be no compromise, no quarter given. There were only two possible outcomes.
Either they would succeed, or they would die.
Chapter Thirty-three
KORAX WANTED BLOOD. Specifically, he wanted Koloth’s blood. He hadn’t been sure of the Klingon’s identity when he had first spied him through the canopy of the shuttle. After turning that fleeting image over in his mind during the past few hours, however, Korax was now certain he was pursuing his former commander through the Pao’lan jungle. He would have every cursed petaQ on that shuttle executed in the courtyard while the prisoners they’d tried to rescue watched, but he wanted Koloth for himself. For whatever reason, fate had delivered into Korax’s hands the one most responsible for the ruin his career had become, and he was determined not to waste the opportunity.
“How far?” he growled.
Beside him, Khulr consulted his tricorder. “Less than two qelI’qams, Commander. Eight life signs. Three Klingon, three human, a Vulcan and an Efrosian. They are stationary, near a small rise.” He pointed off into the jungle.
Finding the downed shuttlecraft had been simple, and Korax had not been surprised to find five ankle bracelets lying among the discarded equipment inside the ship. The prison’s central computer wouldn’t be able to help him track the escapees, but he didn’t need the assistance. Without their ship they were forced to move on foot, perhaps while carrying i
njured members of their party. Sooner or later Korax would overtake them.
If he could just get through this cursed jungle.
He scowled as he looked into the undergrowth, which appeared to be even thicker than that which they had just spent the last two hours slugging through. The trees and thickets had grown so dense that Korax had been forced to order the pursuit continued on foot. It was slow going, but he didn’t care. He would claw his way through this hellish jungle for the rest of his days if it meant claiming vengeance on Koloth.
Had things been different, Korax may well have advanced to a position of power and prestige within the Empire. But Koloth, rather than standing by his side and pledging his faith and support, had instead forsaken him, casting him away as he pursued his own goals.
That, and enlightenment.
Koloth had embraced the teachings of Kahless, like so many others who had turned away from aspirations of conquest and the power to be had by subjugating those who were weaker. Instead, they searched for honor and glory, living their lives by a rigid code set forth centuries before and which had until only recently been relegated by many to the realm of myth or even children’s tales. And for what? Those who followed Kahless’ path believed that upon their death, the mighty Klingon warrior who defined their existence would welcome them into the afterlife where they would reap the rewards of their loyalty.
Korax had never believed any of it, but did it explain why Koloth was here? There were those Klingons in the Empire who regarded the taking of captives during battle to be a grievous violation of honor. Was that what had brought Koloth to Pao’la?
Or was it simpler than that? Perhaps Koloth had turned traitor and was now working for the Federation. After all, he had seen a human in the shuttle’s cockpit, sitting next to Koloth.
Somehow, despite the hatred for Koloth that he had developed over the years, Korax couldn’t make himself believe that his former commander was capable of such treason. Though he might take issue with individuals in positions of power, Korax was certain that Koloth’s loyalty to the Empire was absolute. But if the action he’d undertaken was unfavorable in the eyes of those on the High Council, then Korax knew he might have the opportunity to redeem himself. Perhaps he could restore his career while he was still young enough to enjoy it. At the very least he should be able to parlay his transfer from this hellhole.
Of course, to accomplish any of that, he had to catch Koloth first.
His communicator beeped for his attention. Korax grabbed the device from his belt and activated it.
“What is it?”
It was Moqlah, to whom Korax had given the task of restoring order to the prison. “Commander, we have received an incoming message from the warship Zan’zi. They inform us that they will soon enter standard orbit. Her captain demands to speak to you.”
Why would a Klingon ship be here? Was it related to the escape of the prisoners? Koloth would need a vessel to get him off the planet, so was the Zan’zi his means of escape? If that was the case, then why contact him?
Korax decided that he had neither the time nor the desire to deal with this new development.
“Moqlah, inform the Zan’zi ’s captain that you have not been able to locate me, but that you are working to do so. Contact me when the ship makes orbit.” He didn’t even wait for Moqlah’s response before severing the connection and replacing the communicator on his belt.
As he continued to lead the column of Klingons in silence, he considered the ship approaching Pao’la. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that the Zan’zi couldn’t possibly be part of Koloth’s plan to leave the planet with the Starfleet prisoners. However, he could come up with no other reason for the ship’s arrival that made any sense. The only ships that visited the planet did so according to a rigid schedule. Prisoner transfers were coordinated in advance, and supply ships visited at regular intervals. There had never been any deviation from the schedule in all the time that Korax had commanded the prison facility here.
Something was wrong here, Korax could feel it. Whatever it was, though, would have to wait until he resolved his current problem. His first priority was recapturing the escaped prisoners and their rescuers, preferably before the Zan’zi made orbit.
His eyes scanned the jungle around him as he moved through the undergrowth. Except for a single soldier walking point, the rest of the twenty guards he had brought from the prison were behind him. The woefully small number was all that would fit into the two ground transports that had survived the devastating attack on the compound. Between that and the widespread power outages, including damage to the energy shroud, which was the only thing protecting the entrance to the prison, Korax could spare very few men to hunt down the fugitives.
The undergrowth was beginning to thin somewhat, and he could detect the gradual incline of the ground beneath his boots. They had to be getting close.
“Khulr,” he said, instinctively lowering his voice as if aware that those he hunted might overhear him. “Where are they?”
Consulting his tricorder again, Khulr pointed in the direction they were already headed. “They still haven’t moved. They must be hiding.”
“Do they know we’re here?” It didn’t seem possible that they could make their approach undetected. Surely Koloth had brought at least a single tricorder with him?
Khulr replied, “They are close together in a ravine at the base of a small hill.” Analyzing the readout on the tricorder again, he added, “Given their position, we can surround them easily.”
Checking the charge on his disruptor, Korax nodded in satisfaction. “Excellent. Inform the others as to how we’ll proceed.” He was already beginning to feel the beat of his heart quickening and the rush of blood in his veins as he anticipated the coming confrontation. He thought of Koloth, doubting that his former commander was unaware he was being pursued.
Good. It made the game so much more enjoyable.
I’m coming for you, Koloth. Do you know who it is that hunts you?
“Follow my lead,” he said to the group as Khulr finished briefing them. “I want them taken alive. Kill any of them and you will die here by my blade.” Pausing until he was confident that his orders were clear, Korax set off toward the ravine, Khulr’s tricorder in his free hand. The sound normally made by the unit was muted, so he had to rely strictly on its directional readout.
He was aware of his breathing growing shallow and rapid. His senses were becoming increasingly alert, and he was able to hear his men as they began to move in their assigned directions. Korax could see the envelopment playing out in his mind’s eye. Koloth and the others were quickly becoming the apex of a semicircle, with Klingons approaching them on three sides. The rise of the plateau on the far side of the evolving formation would prevent easy retreat in that direction. In short, there was nowhere for the fugitives to go that wouldn’t bring them into contact with one or more of his men.
Stepping around a large thicket, Korax got his first look at the ravine, which was actually little more than a depression. Just as Khulr had said, it was small, less than two meters deep. Partially concealed by a line of dense undergrowth, the position did offer favorable concealment. However, the very vegetation that blocked the gully from view also masked his own approach.
He looked around for his men. Spaced at irregular intervals among the trees were patches of black, the Klingons’ uniforms contrasting against the dull browns and pale greens of the jungle. Korax was pleased to note that his soldiers moved with surprising stealth, especially considering the lack of opportunities they had to train for such situations. He waited several more seconds, mentally counting off the time while his men moved into position before starting forward again.
Every nerve tingled as he moved, his disruptor aimed ahead of him. He strained his ears but could hear no signs of movement from the depression. His initial suspicion that this might be a trap begged for his attention, but he ignored it. Koloth was here, somewhere.
Th
e tricorder vibrated in his hand.
Startled by the unexpected sensation, Korax stopped his advance and brought the unit up.
“What is this?” he whispered, barely audible even to his own ears as he watched the tricorder’s previously coherent display deteriorate into a chaotic jumble.
This made no sense! The tricorders supplied to the prison were all shielded against any disruptive influence caused by the overabundance of mineral deposits indigenous to this planet. A quick check of the unit’s power supply showed that it was fully powered.
So what was causing this havoc?
A jamming field.
“No,” he blurted out, but it was the only option that made sense. A jamming field was in operation somewhere nearby, most likely being used to conceal Koloth’s true position. And that meant . . .
Lunging forward, Korax leapt over the parapet of the ditch, disruptor raised to fire but already certain there would be no targets waiting for him.
Except a tricorder.
He didn’t have to look at it lying at the bottom of the ditch to know that it had been programmed to emit signals approximating the life signs of the fugitives.
Koloth had tricked him!
The oath that escaped Korax’s lips was one he had learned as a boy. It was particularly vulgar and had earned him a slap across the mouth when he’d had the incredible lack of good sense to utter it in front of his mother.
But it seemed so appropriate to say now.
And he said it again when the ground exploded near his feet.
Chapter Thirty-four
“FIRE.” As one, the eight runaways unleashed a barrage of firepower at Kirk’s command. Their elevated position at the top of the plateau offered them ideal concealment and protection from which to launch their assault.
“That’s Korax,” Koloth said as he peered down into the gully with his viewfinder. “It’s been a long time, but I’d recognize that face anywhere.” He shook his head in apparent disgust. “And to think that I once called him friend.”
