by Dayton Ward
They had been overwhelmed.
The chase was over.
Despite everything, they had lost.
Chapter Thirty-six
KORAX TRIED TO FEIGN disinterest as the group of fugitives was brought before him, but he failed miserably. He attempted to appear more enthralled by the breathtaking vista offered by the plateau of the Pao’lan jungle surrounding him, but it was impossible. The sight of Koloth standing before him as his prisoner was simply too much for him to remain composed. That he had captured a traitorous, renegade officer of such stature would be more than enough to secure his own return to a life of some merit and dignity. That the traitor was also his former commander and the one Korax viewed as the arbiter of his downfall was an unexpected bonus he fully intended to exploit.
Strolling down the line of captives, Korax came to a stop before Garrovick. The human was favoring his right arm and Korax could tell by his gaunt face that he was in extreme pain. Korax would have the doctor treat the injury upon their return to the prison. Despite all the trouble Garrovick and the other Starfleet officers had caused during their captivity, he was still under Council directives to see to their safekeeping.
Of course, one of the reasons they had been so much trouble in the past would no longer plague them in the future.
Korax turned to face Elliot, who stood next to Garrovick. “One of my guards tells me you killed Khulr.”
Elliot nodded, and Korax noted an edge of fear creeping into her otherwise stone-faced expression. “Yes.”
After several seconds Korax simply shrugged. “So be it. He was more of an annoyance than he was worth, frankly. Thank you for disposing of him.”
Ignoring the looks of shock on her face as well as those of her companions, Korax resumed his review of the captives, directing his attention to the trio who had attempted to free the prisoners.
“Hello, Koloth,” he said as he stepped before his former commander, making no effort to suppress the satisfied smile on his face. “It has been a long time.”
Koloth’s own expression was one of smugness. “How rewarding this must be for you, Korax. I imagine this is the highlight of your otherwise mediocre career.”
Bristling at the remark, Korax drew his disruptor without thinking and pointed it at Koloth, the muzzle of the weapon mere centimeters from the Klingon’s face.
“I have you to thank for my career, and I’ve waited a long time to convey my gratitude.”
Koloth acted as if the disruptor didn’t even exist, his expression revealing nothing. As Korax looked down the length of his disruptor, years of hatred channeled itself down his arm and into the weapon, which began to shake visibly.
Realizing the involuntary motion made him look weak before his adversary, Korax lowered the weapon and deliberately turned away, moving instead to study Koloth’s two companions. Both of them appeared to be human.
“The life signs we detected earlier indicated three Klingons moving with the prisoners. Ingenious of you to fake those readings.”
Directing his gaze back to his former commander, he said, “Have you relaxed your standards, Koloth? I didn’t think someone of your status would lower himself to associate with Earthers.”
Koloth didn’t even bother to turn his head, but instead merely shrugged. “One does what is necessary to accomplish one’s goals.”
Korax looked into the face of the first human, who looked to be middle-aged. He was certain he had encountered this man before as a gnawing feeling of recognition begged for his attention. The human’s face had filled out somewhat and the jawline and chin had softened, but there was no mistaking the features of the man who now stood before him.
“Kirk.” Korax drew the name out in a long, slow breath. How many years had passed since he had last laid eyes on this insufferable Earther? How long had Kirk been considered a vile enemy of the Empire? And now the notorious Federation captain stood here, at his mercy.
“I never thought we’d cross paths again, Kirk,” Korax said. “And I never would have thought you foolish enough to travel so deeply into Klingon territory. From what I’ve heard, there’s quite a substantial price on your head. Not only will I return to some semblance of dignity and status, but I’ll be able to do so with a modest bit of wealth.” He turned his attention to the other human. “No doubt you are a member of Kirk’s crew,” he said before returning to Kirk himself.
“I had heard that you finally put that decrepit worm-infested dung-bucket of a starship out of its misery. Tell me, did your masters give you another ship to lord over? Is it populated with a crew of spineless lapdogs like the Enterprise was?”
Kirk glared at Korax, his voice low as he replied. “After all these years, I finally understand why my engineer saw fit to punch you in the mouth.” Even before Korax could react to the remark, Kirk pressed on. “I have another starship, yes, and I command a crew whose loyalty and proficiency is unmatched by anyone in the fleet.” Leaning closer to Korax, he added, “Yours or ours. But what would you know about leading such people? Instead you’ve elected to serve your Empire here, a position of some importance no doubt, given your apparently unique qualifications to command it.”
It was one thing to exchange verbal barbs with Koloth, but with this insolent human? Korax had killed enemies for far less. He wanted to kill Kirk as well, right here and now.
However, restraint won out again as he remembered the rewards that would come from delivering Kirk in irons to the High Council. Korax looked forward to dragging Kirk into the Council chamber by a chain fixed around the human’s neck.
Korax’s communicator chirped, demanding attention. He grabbed the offending device from his belt and activated it.
“What is it?”
“This is Moqlah, Commander. The Zan’zi has entered standard orbit and its captain is demanding to speak with you.”
Sighing in frustration, Korax shook his head in disgust. His instincts told him that the Zan’zi ’s arrival had to be connected somehow to the Starfleet prisoners, and once again he felt the situation being pulled from his grasp. He had to get this affair under control before dealing with any outsiders if he was to maximize his own potential benefit.
Before he could answer Moqlah, Korax heard a familiar hum from behind him, and he turned to see seven columns of transporter energy appear and take on the forms of Klingons. As they materialized, Korax could see that each of them was heavily armed, with six of the Klingons carrying disruptor rifles.
The seventh one was obviously their leader, even if Korax hadn’t recognized the uniform markings of a warship commander. Heavy leather gleamed in the sunlight, as did the top of the new arrival’s head, which the Klingon kept completely devoid of hair. That along with a trimmed goatee helped accentuate the already prominent ridges on his wide forehead. A single scar ran down the right side of his face from his temple to his lips, turning his expression into a perpetual sneer.
“I am Jardak, captain of the Imperial cruiser Zan’zi. Am I to understand that you are the administrator for the prison facility on this planet?”
Korax schooled himself not to react to the unsubtle air of disdain that had permeated the word “administrator.” Jardak obviously felt that such a position was unworthy of anything resembling respect.
“That is correct. I am Korax. What do you want?”
Jardak snapped his fingers and the six Klingons who had accompanied him began to fan out, taking up positions that allowed them to cover the prisoners as well as those soldiers of Korax’s who were in the immediate area. Jardak himself examined the five bedraggled members of the Gagarin ’s crew.
“Are these all who remain of the Federation ship?”
Korax nodded. “Of the group originally brought here, yes. What concern are they of yours?”
“They were taken during battle and then treated like common criminals,” Jardak said. “That in itself violates centuries of tradition with respect to combat. That they were then left here to rot while those responsible for
the decision lied about their actions is a heinous offense against the honor of the Empire.” His eyes scanned the five remaining Gagarin survivors once more. “The High Council believes that continuing this deception is an impediment to the ongoing negotiations with the Federation. They wish the matter closed, once and for all.”
Kirk felt a knot form in his stomach as Jardak spoke.
If the High Council was trying to rid themselves of the problem surrounding the Gagarin prisoners, it had to be because they were trying to deflect attention from themselves. Their best option would be to wipe away all evidence of the hostages’ existence.
And that, of course, would include anyone captured during an attempt to free the prisoners.
He glanced at Koloth and thought he saw similar thoughts reflected in the Klingon’s eyes. The suspicion was confirmed when Koloth spoke.
“The dishonor exists whether or not the Council chooses to acknowledge it. Doing away with the source of the problem does not free them of their responsibility.”
Jardak turned his attention to Koloth and as the two Klingons faced off, Kirk watched the silent communication they exchanged. Here were two warriors who had sworn their loyalty to the Empire and, by definition, to those who occupied the seats of power. Perhaps, from time to time, their loyalty forced them to stand silently and absorb the fallout of policies and directives they felt diminished what they had pledged to defend. Kirk could see that Jardak agreed with Koloth, but how far did his loyalty go?
“You are correct,” Jardak said. “There are those on the Council who would simply bury the issue and forget about it, just as there are those who disagree with that position. Fortunately for you, it is a member of that latter group that has brought me here today.”
It took an extra second for the remark to register with Kirk, but then clarity returned and provided him with the answer.
“Gorkon?”
Jardak nodded. “Gorkon.”
“That’s impossible,” Korax exclaimed. “Gorkon is a junior Council member. He cannot override Chancellor Kesh.”
Calmly, Jardak turned his attention back to the camp commander. “According to the communiqué I received this morning, Kesh has stepped down after having apparently fallen victim to a sudden illness. I also gathered that certain other Council members were inclined to vacate their seats. Junior officials are filling those positions, and Gorkon himself has assumed the temporary role of Chancellor. He feels it is long past time for honor to be restored to the Empire, and such drastic changes must begin in the highest halls of power if the initiative is to succeed.”
Kirk couldn’t believe it. Gorkon and his allies had succeeded in engineering a coup, removing their adversaries from office, and using their vision of what the Klingon Empire should be to propel themselves into power. If what Koloth had told him was right, with views such as those held by Gorkon gaining popularity within the Empire, then Gorkon had the support of the common people behind him. In time they would far outnumber those who held dissenting opinions.
Change was in the air, but how long would it take to take real effect? How long would the Federation and other parties have to wait before they saw any tangible effects from the events occurring on this day?
“And what about the prisoners?” Koloth asked, giving voice to Kirk’s next thought. “How will honor serve them?”
“They will be returned to the Federation with the apologies of Gorkon and the High Council. All information regarding the Gagarin will also be surrendered. No longer will the Empire deny its role in this despicable affair.”
Kirk couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Could it really be that simple?
“And that’s it?” he asked. “After all this time, they just get sent home and the Klingons lose face with us? You can’t tell me this won’t have repercussions throughout the Empire, to say nothing of how the Federation Council will react.”
Kirk knew the Council would demand a full accounting of all incidents between the Empire and the Federation where Starfleet personnel were listed as missing in action. He doubted the Klingons would be prepared or willing to come forward with such damaging information until their own internal problems were settled. Though the aftermath of this affair might bring the opposing sides closer together, the peace process that both parties had been crafting would suffer, at least in the short term.
Jardak regarded the Enterprise captain for several seconds before replying. “If Klingons see that their leaders are willing to suffer personal embarrassment for the good of our people, it will strengthen their belief in the necessity of honor above all else. Only then will the Empire attain the true greatness that Kahless envisioned for us.”
As he reached for the communicator on his belt, he added, “There is much work to be done if we are to obtain that goal. It begins here, today.” Activating the communicator, Jardak barked a short series of words in his native language.
Kirk could only understand part of it. “Fire on . . .”
Fire on what?
“The prison,” Sulu said, grasping the rest of Jardak’s order. “He just ordered his ship to destroy it.”
Chapter Thirty-seven
“THERE!” It was Garrovick who saw it first, pointing toward the horizon. Kirk turned in time to see thin slivers of crimson energy rain down from the sky toward the lone mountain in the distance, the top of which still lay shrouded by clouds. The true target of the energy beams lay at the base of that mountain. He couldn’t tear his eyes from the scene as plumes of thick dark smoke rose from the distant trees, lifting into the sky and further concealing the mountain from view.
According to the surveillance data they had gathered while observing the prison, Kirk knew that over a thousand inmates had been housed at the facility, to say nothing of the garrison charged with overseeing them. Had Jardak really ordered their deaths so casually?
“Oh my god,” Sulu breathed.
Garrovick and his companions were equally stunned. Sydney Elliot stepped from the line of prisoners, her expression one of total horror as the barrage of fire continued to assault its target.
“They just destroyed it?” She saw the expression on Korax’s face, knowing that the camp commander was as unprepared for what had just happened as she was.
Leveling a withering glare at Jardak, she said, “What about your soldiers? They just get wiped out? Do their lives mean nothing?”
“Syd,” Garrovick said, reaching out to grab his friend’s arm and draw her away from Jardak and Korax. “This isn’t the time.”
Wrenching her arm from his grasp, Elliot whirled on Garrovick. “What about Moqlah, Stephen?” An image of the Klingon flashed in her mind, and she remembered how he had protected them and how Garrovick had saved the guard’s life during the Romulan’s escape attempt in the mine. A red cloud of anger just as quickly enveloped the mental picture of the Klingon who had risked so much to treat them with some measure of dignity. “Did he deserve to be eradicated like some virus?”
Jardak watched the confrontation with amusement for some moments before speaking again. “He and the other soldiers died for a greater purpose. As for the prisoners themselves, with very few exceptions they were flotsam, worthless and expendable.”
“I’m sure my men appreciated being cast down with the criminals they guarded,” Korax said, making a valiant effort to reign in the shock at what he had just seen.
Seemingly unimpressed with Korax’s reaction, Jardak replied, “A Klingon warrior’s duty to the Empire includes dying in its defense.”
“Does that include dying at the convenience of its leaders?” Kirk asked. “Do those in power hold so little regard for those who pledge their lives to the Empire? And what about your orders from the Council? What about your duty?”
Bristling at the questions, Jardak leaned in closer to Kirk. “My loyalty to the Empire is not for you to judge, human. Chancellor Gorkon’s orders are to have the Starfleet prisoners returned to the Federation, and I intend to do just that. However,
the original orders given by Kesh to destroy all evidence of the prison facility were never rescinded.” With a dismissive shrug he added, “ Perhaps the newly appointed Council members will learn to be more precise with their directives in the future.”
Sulu blanched at the casualness of Jardak’s remark. “Was it really necessary to destroy it after we had rescued our people? What does it accomplish to sacrifice so many innocent lives?”
“The prison was a symbol of shame and as much a disgrace to the Empire as the actions that brought your companions here.”
“That’s not a reason for murder,” Kirk countered, his jaw tightening in barely controlled anger. “It’s a waste, no matter the reasons you’ve given.”
Jardak flicked at a piece of dirt on the sleeve of his uniform, seemingly unimpressed with the entire conversation. “Remember, human, that we Klingons do not coddle our criminals as you do in the Federation. We punish them, treating them like the undeserving dogs they are. If a handful of them should perish, we do not mourn their loss.”
He indicated to one of his men with a wave of his hand. “Prepare everyone for transport to the Zan’zi. Place Commander Korax and his men in detention.”
Korax, who had been staring at the growing pyre of smoke in the distance, spun to face Jardak.
“This is how it ends? I have been loyal to the Empire my entire life, though a single mistake made in my youth condemned my career to mediocrity. Even here, on this all but forgotten trash heap of a planet, I continued to serve to the best of my ability, making my mining quotas and guarding the Chancellor’s terrible secret. And this is my reward?”
“You’re a fool, Korax.”
Koloth’s simple statement drew surprised looks not only from Korax, but from everyone else as well.
“Simply serving the Empire is not enough,” he continued. “Your life is what it is because you chose to do what was accepted, not what was right.”
