“Ahh,” Navok nodded. “That would not be good for the Federation, would it, Morrow?”

  “No.”

  Chapter Eight

  As the Torye and Klingon vessels hung motionless in space, Vykul and Klaa faced each other on their respective bridge viewscreens, each seated comfortably in his ship’s command chair. Theena, however, was anything but comfortable as she listened to them haggle. While the Klingon ship wasn’t a battle cruiser, it was larger and considerably better armed and armored than the comparatively primitive Torye vessel. The only advantage her ship had was its stolen subspace disruption weapon, and even Theena couldn’t be completely sure it would work. But that untested weapon was why the Klingons were here.

  The understanding which led to this fateful meeting had been predicated on mutual self-interest. Klaa’s Klingon faction would be gaining access to a weapon system that would enable them to take over an as-yetunrevealed but coveted target- which, in turn, would give them the might they needed to set their misguided empire back on a course to glory and conquest. Vykul and his Torye band approached this partnership believing that they would retain control over their unique weapon, which would establish them as a force to be reckoned with throughout the quadrant. But Theena recalled a human axiom mentioned by Raya, who had learned it from Kirk: The devil is in the details. And the details of this deal were proving troublesome.

  Klaa wanted the weapon transferred to his ship. Vykul explained that it was already integrated into his ship’s systems. Even if it could be removed, they had no guarantee that Klingon systems would be compatible; it could take days to work through the engineering problems- with no assurance of success. But Theena knew Vykul had no intention of giving up control of their weapon, to anyone.

  Vykul pressed the Klingons for a full description and the location of the planned target. Klaa huffily refused to give up that information without getting the weapon in exchange. They were at a classic impasse, and neither seemed willing to bend. But Theena, who prided herself on her observational skills, noted with amusement that the more tense and argumentative Klaa got, the more relaxed Vykul became. As their verbal sparring continued, body language told the tale. Vykul remained slouched in his seat, his relaxed elbows resting on the chair arms, hands folded across his stomach- while Klaa hunched his shoulders, then popped up and strutted in front of his command throne, flexing his muscles like a frustrated gamecock belatedly realizing that his potential mates were flying to other nests.

  “Captain Klaa,” Vykul finally said, “why don’t we take a short break from our talks? Can we come at this from a fresh angle? I think so. Will we be able to get on with the mission in a way that satisfies both our needs? I have no doubts.” He reached for the switch to end the transmission.

  “Wait!” Klaa blurted. “What if some of my crew boarded your ship so they could participate in deployment?”

  “I’ll think on that, Captain,” Vykul said- and then cut the signal. He turned toward his crew, looking rather pleased, murmuring almost to himself, “I handled that quite well.”

  “You did, actually,” Theena agreed. “But it’s obvious we can’t trust these Klingons any more than the ones we’ve encountered before. This partnership was a mistake.”

  “You may be right.”

  “Then let’s end this and go back home. When we tell our people that Klingons were forced to treat us with respect, they’ll understand why we did what we did, and they’ll join us. The Torye will become a mainstream movement and we’ll have the influence to change our government’s foreign policy and bring a new day to all of Mestiko. That’s what we’ve wanted, and we don’t need the Klingons for that.”

  “No, we don’t, really. In fact, we don’t need anyone.”

  “Then we agree.”

  “Mmm… not exactly. Can we intimidate Klingons? So it appears. Do we have to settle for merely becoming yet another mainstream movement? Not when we can rule.”

  “Vykul, what are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about using our assets.” Brimming with enthusiasm, Vykul stood and prowled the bridge as he spoke. “Why share this weapon of ours with anyone? Why not keep it for the Torye? Use it to take over the Zamestaad and replace their weakness with our strength! Our world takes its place as a feared and respected power instead of a charity case. We’ve risen from the ashes, but now it’s time for us to tower over the quadrant.”

  Theena stared at him. “You’re talking about overthrowing our government?!”

  “Overthrow… such a harsh word. Isn’t it time for a new generation with new ideas and new power? It’s our time. Will the old guard simply stand aside? Nobody gives up power willingly. It’s time for our revolution.”

  “I can’t allow it,” Theena said with a stern shake of her head.

  “I was afraid you would say that.” Vykul slipped his sidearm from its holster and pointed it directly at her.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Confining you to quarters.” Vykul turned to the young woman who had brought Theena to the bridge. “Terli, take her and lock her in her cabin.”

  Without question, Terli drew her own weapon and gestured toward the hatch. Theena took three steps, then hesitated. “Vykul, what are you going to do about the Klingons?”

  “I’m going to use our leverage. Would you like to watch, and maybe learn?”

  “No, I don’t think so.” Theena turned and left the bridge, with Terli behind her.

  Come on, Theena… use that big brain of yours! Confined to her cabin, Theena ricocheted between pondering how she got into this mess and trying to think of a way out. She paced, she swore, she argued out loud with herself, and she lost track of time. Then the lights flickered, the ship shook momentarily, and she assumed that Vykul had engaged the subspace weapon and turned it on the Klingons. On one hand, she was furious with Vykul and his disciples. But on the other hand, she desperately wanted to know how her weapon was working- and she got her chance a few minutes later, when the lights dimmed and stayed that way, and the shuddering resumed, with increased intensity. As the deck-plates quivered under her feet, the cabin door opened and she saw Terli standing there, looking scared. “Vykul needs you- now!”

  They rushed up to the bridge to find Vykul and two technicians huddled around the separate console dedicated to the subspace weapon. Theena allowed herself a fast, curiosity-satisfying look at the viewscreen- though the disruption field itself consisted of an energy stream invisible to the eye, ionized atoms caught in its path created a glowing, translucent torrent washing over the Klingon ship. Vykul and the flummoxed technicians stepped aside, and Theena slid behind the controls. It took her only a moment to determine that the weapon had indeed rendered the Klingon ship helpless, but matrix instability was accelerating at an alarming rate.

  “We have to shut it down, now,” she said, expecting an argument from Vykul.

  Instead, he simply replied, “Okay. Shut it down.”

  Caught off-guard by his lack of resistance, Theena gave him a quizzical glance, wondering just what had gone on while she’d been locked in her quarters. Then she initiated the programmed disengagement sequence, monitoring closely, ready for manual override at the first hint of anomaly or malfunction. Happily, there was none. Once the field generator was off, the ship stopped shaking, and only then did Theena notice the cold sweat under her arms. She called up a summary report of the deployment period.

  “Well?” said Vykul, looking over her shoulder.

  She was so pleased at this first operational test that, for the moment, she forgot how angry she was at Vykul. “It worked. And even that destabilization was within predicted parameters. I need to take a closer look at the specific data, and then I can make some adjustments.”

  Vykul patted her on the shoulder. “I had faith in you, Theena. Since it worked, how long will it take their power systems to recover?”

  “At least an hour for minimal power restoration. Warp core recovery could take hours longer. Or, their circuits could be so fried they’ll never get warp drive restarted.”

  “Good, good. That buys us plenty of time to put some distance between here and there.”

  “Between here and where?”

  “Fiota, you’ve got the coordinates. Set our course, and go to warp speed.”

  With a nod, Fiota followed orders. A moment later, they were in motion, wheeling away from the disabled Klingon ship, and then jumping to light speed.

  Theena’s eyes narrowed at Vykul. “What coordinates?” She swiveled her seat around as Vykul settled back into the command chair.

  “The location of what was supposed to be our shared target.”

  “Klaa just gave you the coordinates?”

  “Well, not right away. Did we dance for a while? Sure. I had to make him believe we were willing to take our weapon and go home. Showing him all the data from your simulations again, that helped a great deal. Reminding him what this thing could do… it was almost cruel, the way he drooled over it.”

  “How did you get the coordinates without giving him what he wanted?”

  “Did I make a concession? In a manner of speaking. I promised to allow three of his crew aboard our ship as part of the weapon deployment.”

  “Which you never intended to do.”

  “He had his crewmembers all ready to transport over. That’s when I asked for the target coordinates, as a show of good faith.”

  Theena shook her head at Vykul’s apparent audacity. “What made you think they’d fall for that?”

  “Because they needed us more than we needed them. Just as he was about to engage his transporter, we engaged the weapon. Now we’ll go and take their target.”

  “Do we even know what it is?”

  Vykul chuckled. “I have no idea. But was it important enough for them to let their guard down? Yes. Will it be worth our while? I think so.”

  Theena turned away from him, toward the viewscreen where the stars streaked by. In case her expression betrayed even the slightest hint of admiration for his ability to swindle the Klingons, she didn’t want him to see it. She was still smarting over his imperious treatment of her, and had serious disagreements with him about the wisdom of his intended path. But, for the moment, that conflict was tempered by her satisfaction with the weapon’s performance- and by her curiosity about their impending target.

  What had Klaa been so eager to seize that he’d allowed Vykul to make a total fool out of him? There would be time to debate strategy later- and she intended to, since overthrowing Raya’s government was never in her plans. For now, though, while she vowed not to let Vykul get the best of her again, maybe he was right about one thing.

  Maybe it was time to think big.

  Chapter Nine

  The automated distress signal was a complication General Navok could easily have done without. The transmission was so weak, it was barely readable when his bird-of-prey picked it up less than an hour from their destination- the battle base he planned to show to Spock and Morrow.

  The signal originated from a Klingon vessel without authorization to be where it was. And its location put it directly between Navok’s ship and the battle base, so he could hardly ignore it. Was it commanded by a fellow dissident? If so, had they been attacked by a ship loyal to the mad targ s running the High Council? That would be unfortunate, since it might mean the mutinous conspiracy had been exposed. But if the damaged ship carried a crew still loyal to the High Council, then Navok could not allow himself to be caught with Federation representatives aboard his ship. Either way, the ramifications could be unpleasant. He would have to play the encounter with deliberate caution.

  As they approached the damaged ship, Navok hid Morrow and Spock in his cabin. Scans of the other ship showed minimal power output, with life support barely operational. When its commander appeared on Navok’s viewscreen, the signal quality was oddly degraded by local interference despite their close proximity.

  “General Navok, I am Captain Klaa.”

  “What happened to your ship, Captain?”

  “We were attacked.”

  “By what? I see no battle damage.”

  “It was an unknown weapon, capable of neutralizing a warp reactor without warning. And there are no known countermeasures.”

  “Who wielded this super-weapon?”

  Klaa hesitated for a heartbeat, and Navok knew he was being lied to. “An unknown invader, General. But they pose a grave threat to the empire.”

  “So it would seem. How many casualties do you have?”

  “None, sir.”

  Navok’s eyebrows arched in surprise. “None? They overwhelmed a shipful of warriors with a weapon that made you helpless, yet they didn’t destroy your ship and harmed not a whisker on your pretty head? Can you explain this?” As Klaa squirmed under questioning, Navok couldn’t help but enjoy it, just a little bit.

  “No, sir, I cannot. But consider this- had they left nothing but debris, there’d be no one to report what happened to us. If it’s their goal to strike fear in Klingon hearts, our destruction would not suit their needs.”

  “And did they strike fear in your Klingon heart, Klaa?”

  “No!” Klaa snarled with a jolt of rage. “They will pay with their blood!”

  “Yes, blood… always blood,” said Navok distractedly. “Your ship’s status.”

  Klaa shook his head. “Our warp drive is inoperable. My engineer says it cannot be repaired in space.”

  “Well, I don’t have time to tow you to a maintenance facility. Prepare to abandon ship.”

  “General- no! We want to hunt these invaders and punish their arrogance!”

  “Not without a warp core, you won’t. I’ll drop you and your crew off at the nearest fleet base and you can take it up with the commandant.”

  It was obvious Klaa wanted to argue, but thought better of it and followed orders- which only fortified Navok’s suspicions that Klaa was hiding some major secrets. When Klaa and his crew of fourteen materialized on the cargo-transporter platform, they found themselves facing the general, his security squad, and an intimidating array of disruptor rifles. Klaa took a bold step ahead of his officers, then reconsidered when three disruptors aimed at his chest.

  “General, what is the meaning of this?”

  “The meaning?” Navok glared. “What were you doing here in the first place, Captain? Your ship had no authorization to be in this sector.”

  “We… we were on a classified mission.” Despite the defiant jut of his chin, Klaa’s eyes betrayed a flash of panic.

  “I am a senior general, Klaa. I have access to all classified orders, and you are on no covert mission.”

  “We are on a classified assignment, General,” Klaa insisted, without much assurance. “If you allow me to return to my ship, I can prove it.”

  Navok turned to the massive officer at his side. “There are too many for the brig. Strip them of all weapons and communicators, and confine them here in the cargo bay. If they cause any trouble at all, kill them.” Then he marched out.

  Spock and Morrow heard the whirring of the lock keeping them in Navok’s cabin, and the door opened. Navok entered and quickly updated them on the situation. “I’m afraid you’ll have to accept my word on the existence and capabilities of our battle base. The longer our little tour of Klingon space, the more likely you will be discovered. And that suits neither my needs nor yours.”

  Morrow agreed. “It does seem to be getting a little too crowded for comfort in these parts. Spock?”

  “Since we cannot know if Klaa’s distress call was picked up by other Klingon vessels, we cannot calculate the odds of encountering further interference. Therefore, expedited withdrawal does seem logical.”

  Spock, Morrow, and Navok returned to the bridge- where they were greeted with the next piece of bad news. In apparent response to Klaa’s signal, a Klingon battle cruiser had already detected their presence and was closing fast, leaving no time for cloaking or escape.

  Navok cursed, and pounded his fist into the bulkhead, leaving a noticeable dent. Then he strode to his female weapons officer. “Vijak, target Klaa’s ship with disruptors. Destroy both engines.”

  Vijak’s long fingers danced across her console. “Targets locked.”

  “Fire.”

  Spock and Morrow watched on the viewscreen as Navok’s disruptors blew a gaping hole in one nacelle of Klaa’s vessel and sheered off the other entirely. Then Navok turned toward the male officer at the communications station. “Mox, open a channel to the approaching battle cruiser- audio only.”

  “Channel open, sir.”

  Navok stepped up to the command throne and eased back into his seat. “This is General Navok. You have no authorization to be in this sector. Identify yourself and your mission.”

  There was a moment of silence, and then Spock heard a familiar rumbling voice from the speakers. “This is Kang. We are responding to a distress signal from your coordinates. Report your status, General.”

  “We also responded to the same distress call,” Navok said. “We found the damaged bird-of-prey under attack by an unidentified intruder. Our intervention forced the intruder to retreat. As you can see, the ship commanded by Captain Klaa was severely damaged. We sustained only minor damage to our communications system.”

  “And the status of Klaa’s crew,” Kang said.

  “Multiple casualties, several dead or dying.”

  “Yet you did not pursue the intruder.”

  “They fled at high speed. We will analyze all sensor logs of the encounter and make a full report to the High Council. Your assistance is not needed, Kang. Return to your assigned patrol.”

  At that moment, it appeared to Spock that Navok had successfully bluffed his way out of their current entanglement. Then, after a deliberate pause, they heard Kang’s voice again. “Our sensors detect little evidence of weapon use consistent with a firefight between three ships.”

  “The enemy used a weapon we’ve never encountered before. That’s why it is so urgent that we report to the High Council at the earliest possible time. Your interrogation is delaying that, Kang.”

 

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