Star Trek: The Original Series - 082 - Federation (28 page)

“What did you expect? It’s a passenger liner!” Kirk shouted.

“One hundred and two crew and passengers!” Kabreigny looked confused. “But they kill their prisoners.” “Who are you talking about?” Kirk demanded. “Tell my people
vhat to do or step down, Admiral!” “I am awaiting orders,” Spock said.

The Companion moaned. u ‘Keptin, warp signature approaching, dead ahead. It is the same configuration as we encountered en route to Babel, sir.” “Admiral! Give me command!” Kirk demanded.

“Shields!” Kabreigny ordered, ignoring Kirk. “Go to Red Alert!” Chekov confirmed shields up. Warning lights flashed and sirens pulsed.

“Liner has raised her shields,” Chekov said. “She’s coming about.” “Unidentified warp vessel closing,” Sulu reported. “Her weapons are preparing to fire.” “Evasive maneuvers!” Kabreigny ordered.

“What?!” Kirk sputtered. “What about Cochrane?” The deck pitched as the inertial dampeners lagged behind the sudden change of course Sulu initiated.

“Wessel firing!” Chekov shouted. “Torpedo impact in ten seconds.” Kabreigny leaned back in the command chair. “Warp seven.

Take us out of here.” The Cochrane generators whined as they surged with power.

“t:’nfcrprise is moving out of range,” Chekov confirmed. “But enemy wessel is pursuing.” Chekov paused, then looked over his sheraider. “Awaiting orders, Admiral.” “We’re going to outrun them, mister,” Kabreigny said stoutly.

“We can’t outrun them,” Kirk countered, his voice rigid with Suppressed rage. “They’ve tied all their power into their warp drive. It’s a suicide configuration for a one-way mission.”

“Enemy wessel closing.” Kabreigny eyed Kirk suspiciously. “You seem to know an awful lot about our adversary, Captain.” “We faced a ship just like it last week.” “How convenient.” “Are you implying that I’m somehow in league with our attackersT’ McCoy stepped up to the other side of the command chair.

“Careful, Captain.” “No,” Kabreigny said. “By all means, Captain Kirk, continue.” “Enemy wessel has fired,” Chekov said. “Impact in eight seconds.” “Come about,” Kabreigny ordered. “Concentrate power in forward shields.” Sulu glanced over his shoulder in alarm. Kirk reached his limit.

“Belay that order! Drop to impulse on my mark! And cut those blasted sirens!” The Red Alert lights remained but the sirens instantly cut out.

Sulu smiled as he turned back to the console. “Aye-aye, sir!” “Captain Kirk, you are relieved of duty!” Kabreigny barked.

“Leave the bridge.” “Impact in four seconds, three… two…” Kirk hammered his fist in empty air. “Mark.f” Sulu slammed his hands over his controls and the ship lurched as it dropped to sublight the instant the enemy’s phaser fire hit.

But the energies of that blast were dissipated, half in warp velocity, half in normal space, as the Enterprise threw off her warp fields. The ship rumbled, shook, but Kirk could tell from the way she absorbed the blow that she had resisted damage.

The admiral hit the intercom switch on the chair arm. “Security to the bridge,” she commanded.

“Admiral, I’d advise you to consider your next move very carefully,” Kirk warned.

“Enemy vessel coming about,” Sulu said.

“Prepare photon torpedoes,” Kirk ordered. He moved in close to Kabreigny. “If we had taken that blast with full power to our forward shields, shield capability would have dropped fifty percent for the next round. The case could be made that you were deliberately trying to sabotage the Enterprise’s defenses.” “That’s ridiculous! I was putting us in position to return point-blank fire.” u ‘Enemy wessel in range.” “Fire one. three, and five,” Kirk said swiftly.

The capacitor hum of the torpedoes’ linear induction launching tubes echoed on the bridge.

“You were the one who gave us away,” Kabreigny accused Kirk. u “bu already know what’s on that liner.” “I’m in the dark, Admiral.” Kirk shielded his eyes as the first of the torpedoes detonated, sending a flare of orange light into the bridge.

“Enemy wessel breaking off attack.” “Pursue!” Kirk said. “Maximum warp! Don’t give it time to come about. Ready phasers!” Sulu’s voice was filled with tension. “Closing on enemy… it’s changing course again… it’s running, Captain! Warp factor seven.. , seven point five…” Kirk jammed his finger against the chair intercom. “Kirk to Engineering—Scotty, give me everything you’ve got, just for a minute.” The engineer didn’t waste time replying. Kirk felt the Enter-
,’i,~c lurch again. Her engines whined. “Range?” Kirk asked.p>

“Twenty thousand kilometers,” Sulu answered. “They’re climbing to warp eight. Sir… we’re at eight point three!” Kirk grinned. That was almost four percent greater than the ship’s fastest possible speed. He had no idea how Scott was managing it. Kirk could almost feel the wind in his hair, hear the tlap of the sails, smell the smoke from the cannons as the seas raged all around him. “Thatta boy, Scotty…” he whispered.

The enemy ship began to grow on the screen. It could outrun the E~z~er/,’
,s~i Kirk knew, but it would take a few moments to accelerate to faster than warp eight point three. And Kirk wasn’t going to give it those moments.p>

“In range, sir!”

“Fire phasers! All banks!” Twin strands of glowing blue energy erupted through space, converging toward the glowing orange light of the enemy.

The orange light blossomed into a shimmering white flower.

“Direct hit!” Chekov exclaimed, fist in the air.

A second explosion silently filled the screen, more violent than the first. Kirk held his hand to his eyes before the screen compensated for the increased level of optical radiation.

“That was her antimatter containment field,” Sulu said. “Reading only fine debris, sir. The target is completely destroyed.” “Resume heading back to the liner,” Kirk said. “Warp factor seven.” He hit the intercom again. “Scotty, you’re a miracle worker.” “Aye,” the chief engineer replied with exhaustion over the speaker, “that’s what I keep telling ye.” Then Kirk released the Send button and stepped back from the chair. “Now that my ship is safe, Admiral, where were we?” “You and Dr. McCoy were leaving the bridge.” The turbolift opened and two security officers sprang out, phasers drawn.

“At ease,” Kirk told them. He stepped in close to the admiral and dropped his voice. “There’s no need to make this harder than it already is. Remember, everything we say, everything we do on this bridge, goes directly into the flight recorder. Command’s not going to have any trouble seeing that I stepped in to save the ship when you endangered her.” McCoy joined them, also whispering. “The captain’s done everything regulations require to accommodate you, Admiral.

But if he should decide that you should be relieved of command, as chief medical officer I will support him.” Kabreigny’s face twisted in anger. She stared at McCoy in outrage. “Do you know what you’re saying, Doctor?” But McCoy didn’t escalate the confrontation. His reply was kind. “It’s not what you think, Admiral. But what I am saying is that your expertise is in other areas than the command chair of a starship. And that at your age your health might not be up to the challenge of command under fire.” Kabreigny’s lips thinned.

I saved the ship,” Kirk said. “Now let me save Cochrane.” Kabreigny drew in a ragged breath and Kirk could see her struggle to remain calm. “How can I know that’s what you intend to do?” she asked.

McCoy brought up a medical scanner and waved it by the admiral.

“I don’t understand,” Kirk said. “Why wouldn’t I want to save Cochrane’?” “You could be involved in this whole business,” Kabreigny said. u ‘Keptin, we are coming up on the liner.” McCoy checked the reading on his scanner. “Admiral, if you do not relinquish command now, I will have you relieved for medical reasons. Your heart’s beating like a blasted trip-hammer.” “Involved in what?” Kirk asked.

“The conspiracy,” Kabreigny said. Her voice was raspy. Her dark face was becoming ashen.

The Enterprise creaked as sparkles of light flared across her viewscreen.

“The liner is firing her navigational phasers at us,” Sulu reported. “No damage to shields.” “What conspiracy?” Kirk demanded.

Kabreigny stared him in the eyes. “You’re either telling the truth, or you’re even better than Starfleet thinks you are.” She stood up. “Captain Kirk, I am ordering you to bring Zefram Cochrane safely aboard this ship. I now turn over command of the Ezterprise to you.” Head held impressively high, she stepped down from the chair.

In seconds, McCoy had pressed a hypospray to her arm, telling her it would lower her heart rate.

Kirk took the chair. It was like coming home. The liner’s navigational phasers struck again and he felt like laughing as the E~z[o’pri.se effortlessly rode out their attack. Nothing could stop him now, nothing could stop them.
‘Mr. Chekov,” Kirk announced.

‘.’Standing by, Keptin.” There was almost joy in Chekov’s \ OlCe.

Kirk leaned back in his chair as if his ship embraced him. “Take us in to five hundred meters. I want pinpoint hits on the liner’s navigational phaser emitters. Low power. No damage to the interior.” Chekov liked the sound of that. No ship should be able to fire at the Enterprise and expect to get away with it.

“Uhura, opening hailing frequencies. Tell the City of Utopia Planitia to prepare to receive a boarding party.” But as Uhura transmitted her message and the Enterprise moved in, Sulu said, “Captain, I am picking up venting of interior atmosphere. Someone has opened an airlock on the liner.” “Onscreen,” Kirk said.

The side of the liner sprang up into full magnification. Kirk instantly saw what had happened. The writhing form of a human drifted away from an open airlock. “Spock! They’ve thrown someone out through an airlock. Get a fix and beam him in!” “Animals,” McCoy gasped.

Spock’s reply over the speakers was calm, but not encouraging.

“Whoever has been ejected from the ship is within the navigational shields. The transporter cannot save him.” The figure floating at the side of the liner ceased its struggles.

Kirk knew there were only seconds remaining to save a life.

“Chekov! Target the liner’s shield generators! Fire at will!” “Aye-aye, sir.” Chekov’s fingers flew over his controls. But then he paused. “Keptin—I am picking up multiple life-sign readings around the liner’s shield generators.” Kirk couldn’t take his eyes off the drifting figure. Someone’s life had been sacrificed to make a point. And now more hostages were assembled by the shield generators to make another.

Uhura broke the silence of the bridge. “Captain Kirk, the liner is responding.” “Onscreen.” As quickly as that the face of the enemy appeared on the main screen.

And the enemy was Klingon.

ROMULAN VESSEL TEARS OF/IIGERDIV DEEP SPACE Stardate 43921.5 Earth Standard: May 2366

The Romulan ship smelled damp.

That was Picard’s first impression of the Warbird as the transporter effect faded around him and he gazed into the vessel’s cavernous hangar deck in person for the first time. Damp, and hot, and with an unsettling blend of spices and alien sweat.

He found it invigorating.

Commander Tarl stood before him, impressive in her battle uniform. She was taller than he by almost half a meter, and in person she looked strained. But then, Picard considered, how vould he appear if he had stolen the Enterprise in order to deliver stolen property to the Romulans? The Romulan commander had taken a dimcult path. Picard felt obligated to honor her.

“Request permission to come aboard,” Picard asked formally.

Tarl narrowed her eyes at him. “You are aboard. This way.” Sle turned her back to him and began to walk toward the scaffolding t~enty meters away. All in all, Picard decided his reception lacked a certain grace. He breathed deeply, committing the scent of the vessel to his memory, realizing that in Sarek’s memories the scent was already there and known.

Picard smiled as he approached his away team. He felt like an explorer, and the exotic expanse of stars seen through the open hangar doors, obscured only by the slight flickering of the forcefield retaining the ship’s atmosphere, enhanced that feeling for him.

The artifact, though partially hidden behind the green scaffolding and in the glaring halos of the encircling lights, was just as impressive as the stars. It was at least five meters tall, ten meters long, and who knew how many meters deep. The angular arrangements of conduits and pipes along its one flat side were certainly reminiscent of the Borg approach to engineering, and when Picard looked more closely, he saw that the exposed surfaces were pitted with small impact craters, most no larger than a finger-tip.

“Is this part of the Borg vessel exterior?” Picard asked.

“Judging from the scarring,” Riker said, “the consensus is yes.” Picard smiled at his number one. “I appreciate the chance to come aboard and see this firsthand, Will, but it’s so obviously of Borg manufacture, I’m surprised you found it necessary for me to be here.” Riker responded with a matching smile, though Picard could see it was patently false, assumedly only for the benefit of Tarl and the two stern Romulans who accompanied her. “It’s the interior we think you should see, Captain. There are some… unusual Borg components there.” “I do not see the reason for this delay,” Tarl said impatiently.

“The artifact is yours. I need a ship for my crew.” “Commander, please, a few minutes more,” Riker said. “We have strict protocols we must follow. I’m sure your command structure is no different from our admiralty.” Tarl frowned. “Deliver me from subpraetors with their computer screens and regulations,” she muttered.

Riker nodded and sighed in agreement. “They’re everywhere.” Tarl gestured for them to continue. “A few minutes then.” As Picard moved around the side of the artifact and saw it extended another ten meters, he gave Riker a puzzled glance.

“The protocols we must follow in a matter like this are very straightforward, Will. It’s all at the captain’s discretion.”

“We needed an excuse to bring you over,” Riker said in a suddenly lowered voice. “Data, where are you?” Picard was startled by the android’s head suddenly poking out from among some tightly woven conduits on the surface of the artifact. He was already inside it.