Star Trek V: The Final Frontier (17 page)

The siren howled; the bridge pulsed with red light. Klaa felt his heart beat faster. “Engage cloaking device,” he said, and congratulated himself silently on his ability to keep the excitement from his tone.

Okrona
would cloak, steal unobserved into firing range, and with one or two well-placed hits, destroy the
Enterprise
and all aboard her, and James Kirk would never know who had killed him.

In a way, it was a pity. But Klaa’s ultimate dream was now within his grasp, and he would not jeopardize it by announcing
Okrona’s
arrival.

There was nothing anyone could do now to stop him.

Scott, who had been huddled over Spock’s viewer, finally raised his head and peered grimly at Chekov. “Mr. Chekov, I’ve lost the Bird of Prey. She must have cloaked.”

Chekov nodded; he understood what such a tactic meant. The Klingons would remain invisible until they appeared without warning and fired on the
Enterprise.

The best Chekov could do was to second-guess them . . . but the risk of doing so was too great.

“Raise shields,” he ordered reluctantly. With shields in place the ship was protected from attack . . . but the
Galileo,
wherever she was, would be unable to dock while those shields were up.

Scott began to protest. “But the shuttle—”

“Do
it,” Chekov said.

Scott sighed and programmed the command into the computer, then squinted at the brightly colored graphic that winked onto his terminal screen. It showed
Enterprise,
surrounded by a glowing force field and thus off-limits to both Klingon phaser blasts . . .

And those aboard
Galileo V.

G
ALILEO
MADE HER WAY HOMEWARD.
Sulu and Uhura piloted her under the supervision of armed guards, while Kirk sat between Spock and McCoy and stared glumly down the rifle barrel pointed at his face. Across the aisle, Sybok conferred earnestly with the diplomats. The leader sat backwards in his passenger’s chair so as to address Caithlin, Korrd, and Talbot, all of whom sat in the row behind him. Sybok spoke in tones too soft for Kirk to make out; Jim suspected they were discussing the takeover of the
Enterprise.
Perhaps Spock, with his keen hearing, could pick up what they were saying.

Jim glanced over at the Vulcan sitting next to him. Spock appeared to have mentally detached himself from his surroundings; he sat, mute and stone-faced,
his eyes focused straight ahead at nothing. Jim got the impression that he was ashamed of whatever connection he had to the leader of the Galactic Army of Light.

As for himself, Jim had experienced an undeniable revelation: He was reacting exactly as he would have had someone tried to steal the old
Enterprise.
Spaceworthy or not, the new
Enterprise
was
his
ship and he’d be damned before he let a lunatic Vulcan and his fanatical army of zealots have her.

“Hey,” Jim said suddenly in a loud, irritable voice. He addressed Sybok and his group. “What do you intend to do with my ship?”

Sybok paused to frown over at him, then nodded at Talbot, who rose from his seat and walked over to Kirk. Sybok went back to speaking in the same hushed, unintelligible drone.

As Talbot made his way over, McCoy whispered in Jim’s left ear, “They sure don’t appear to have been tortured, do they?”

“Drugs?” Jim asked softly, conscious of the rifle aimed at him, but the guard did not seem to mind if he conversed with the doctor.

“This long-lasting? Haven’t seen any hypos yet.” McCoy lifted his shoulders in a skeptical shrug.

Talbot arrived and smiled amiably at them. As the doctor had pointed out, the man appeared perfectly normal, not at all like someone who had undergone the agony of a mind-sifter; Jim had seen a few of those victims, and there had been nothing left of them but physical shells. Talbot, however, appeared quite cheerful—perhaps
too
cheerful, considering the circumstances. There was a joyous animation in his
features that had been entirely lacking in his Starfleet file holo.

“Captain Kirk,” Talbot intoned, with such dignity and warmth that Kirk could understand why the diplomatic service had chosen him. “What can I do for you—besides setting you free, that is?”

Talbot’s charm did not dampen any of the anger Jim felt. “I want to know what the hell you intend to do with my ship!”

The diplomat chuckled politely. “Hell has very little to do with it, actually. Very little, indeed.” At Jim’s furious glare, he hastened to add, “Once we’ve taken control of the
Enterprise,
we’ll bring up the rest of our followers.”

Sulu interrupted with a terse announcement. “Approaching
Enterprise,
Captain.” He switched on the shuttle’s main viewer; the starship filled the small screen.

Kirk opened his mouth to respond, but Sybok responded faster. “Tell them,” the Vulcan said, “that we wish to land.”

Uhura looked askance at the captain; when Kirk nodded, she swiveled in her chair to face the control panel.
“Enterprise,
this is
Galileo Five.
Request permission to begin landing procedure.”

Kirk turned back to Talbot. “You’ll bring up the rest of your followers. And then . . . ?”

“Sybok will fill you in on the details. Later. After he deals with your . . . attitude.” Talbot’s smile took on a faintly ominous tinge.

“Look,” Jim said, his volume rising with his frustration, “Our transporter’s out, and the Klingons are out there. Why don’t you ask General Korrd what
their reaction is likely to be? We’ll be lucky to get back to the ship ourselves. With a Klingon vessel in the area, my people will—”

He broke off as Chekov’s voice filtered over the shuttle’s radio.
“Galileo,
this is
Enterprise.
Condition red alert. Bird of Prey approaching. She is cloaked. Raising shields. Recommend
Galileo
find safe harbor until situation secure. Acknowledge.”

Awaiting instruction, Uhura and Sulu both turned from the control panel and fastened their attention on Kirk. He was about to reply—until his guard nudged him with the rifle barrel. Sybok looked up from his conference with Caithlin and Korrd.

“No reply,” Sybok said with maddening calm. “Remain on course.”

Kirk forced himself not to explode angrily—to do so meant he risked having his head blown off with stone pellets, an unattractive prospect. He took a slow breath, then said, with the same degree of serenity as the Vulcan leader, “Sybok, listen to me. For this craft to enter the landing bay,
Enterprise
must lower shields and activate the tractor beam. To bring us aboard and then raise the shields again will take—” He hesitated, groping for an approximate figure.

For the first time since leaving Nimbus, Spock spoke up. “Exactly fifteen-point-five seconds.” He did not look at either Jim or Sybok.

Kirk nodded vigorously. “An eternity, during which time we’ll be vulnerable to a Klingon attack.” In desperation, he addressed the Klingon diplomat. “General Korrd, tell him.”

Korrd shifted his girth in his chair to face Kirk and Sybok, After a moment’s consideration, he said, in a
deep bass voice, “Kirk speaks the truth. If my people are cloaked, they intend to strike.” He began to say more, stopped himself, then decided to continue. “One more thing you should know, Sybok. My people have a quarrel with Kirk. There is a bounty on his head. I have no doubt they intend to destroy the
Enterprise,
and they will certainly destroy this shuttle if they discover he is aboard. Your plan is in grave jeopardy.”

Still unruffled, Sybok spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “What can we do? We are in destiny’s hands now. We cannot turn back.”

Kirk sat forward in his chair, causing the soldier who guarded him to tighten his grip on the rifle. “Then let me do something,” Jim urged.

Sybok regarded him suspiciously. With deliberate movements, he rose and walked over to where Spock sat next to Kirk. The first officer did not acknowledge his acquaintance’s presence with so much as a glance.

“What say you, Spock?” Sybok asked. It was evident that Spock was the only one whose counsel Sybok valued.

Spock drew a breath and finally met his adversary’s gaze. Kirk thought he saw rebuke in Spock’s eyes.

“You must allow us to act,” Spock said. “The alternative is to see your ’plan’ fail.” He looked away again.

But Sybok appeared satisfied. “Very well.” He nodded at Kirk. “Do what you must, but no more. Trickery will be punished.”

Sybok handed Kirk his communicator. Jim flipped the grid open; he was not quite sure what he was going to say until he actually said it.

“Enterprise,
this is Kirk aboard
Galileo.
We understand the situation, but are unable to return to the planet. Stand by to execute”—he faltered, then pulled a name out of the air—“Emergency Landing Plan B.”

Confused silence over the airwaves. Then Chekov said,
“Galileo,
we did not copy that last message. Can you repeat?”

Kirk thought grimly,
Translation: We know you ’re in trouble, but what the hell is Emergency Landing Plan B?

“Execute Emergency Landing Plan B,” he repeated, then added, as inspiration struck him, “That’s
B
as in ’barricade.’”
Come on, Chekov, read my mind.

“Aye, sir,” Chekov replied uncertainly. “Executing.”

Kirk turned back to Sybok, whose expression was distrustful. Jim offered an explanation. “In order to lower and raise shields as quickly as possible, we’re going to forgo the tractor beam and fly in manually.”

He felt the doctor tense beside him. “
Man
ually?” McCoy gasped, horrified.

Sybok noted the reaction and addressed himself to Sulu. “Commander, how often have you done this?”

Sulu turned from the controls to face the Vulcan. “Actually,” he answered, with a smoothness Jim silently applauded, “it’s my first attempt.” He returned to his controls—but not before Kirk caught his eye. Sulu was smugly enjoying Sybok’s discomfort, as well as feeling a little nervous about the idea himself.

Sybok stared wide-eyed at Jim, who shrugged. “He’s good, really,” Jim said. Like Sulu, he took some grim pleasure in the fact that Sybok did not appear
reassured. Jim raised his communicator again. “Scot-ty. On my mark . . . open bay doors.”

All aboard the shuttlecraft watched as, on the screen, the massive hangar doors began to part.

Aboard
Okrona,
Klaa and his bridge crew listened to the exchange between the tiny shuttlecraft and the
Enterprise.
Klaa was strapped into his gunner’s rig, ready for the instant the starship dropped its shields to bring
Galileo
aboard.

“Kirk!” Klaa threw back his head and howled in triumph. “He’s aboard the shuttlecraft! Tarag, alter attack course.”

Tarag complied as quickly as he was able. The
Okrona
swung itself around to fire at the
Enterprise’s
underbelly, where the bay doors were parting in preparation for
Galileo
5’s arrival.

Klaa peered into his targeting scope. The gods were being kind, almost too kind. He could blast James Kirk out of existence this very second, but Klaa realized if he was patient, he could have more than just Kirk—he could have the
Enterprise,
as well. A single undeflected blast right into open hangar doors would rend the ship in two, or at least cripple her beyond all repair.

Klaa’s trigger finger twitched slightly on the phaser control. “Stand by to decloak for firing,” he told his helmsman, then held his breath and waited for the tiny craft to swim into his target crosshairs.

Kirk raised his communicator to his lips. “Kirk to Scotty—lower shields!”

Scott’s reluctant tone came over the grid. “Lowering shields, sir...”

Kirk drew in a breath.

“Captain!” Uhura cried. The Klingon vessel loomed threateningly on the screen. “Bird of Prey, bearing one-zero-five-mark-two!”

“Go, Sulu!” Kirk ordered.

Sulu fired the aft thrusters; the shuttle roared to life. As if propelled by a gigantic slingshot,
Galileo
sailed toward the opening bay doors of the
Enterprise.
Pressed against his seat by the sudden acceleration, Jim stared at the sight on the screen. The hangar doors were parting slowly, wider at the bottom than at the top—but not wide enough, it seemed, to permit the shuttle passage. A glance at Sulu’s ashen face was confirmation enough.

Galileo
was going to pulp herself on the hangar doors.

“My God.” McCoy turned pale and tightened his restraints.

“Brace yourselves!” Sulu shouted. “I’m going to bring her in low!”

Galileo
shuddered and began to labor, vibrating as if she might break apart. Even with restraints, Jim was crushed against McCoy; Spock, in turn, was thrown against the captain. Jim struggled in vain to watch what was happening on the viewer, but the screen was a chaotic blur of images.

An explosion rocked the shuttle, followed by the horrible grinding screech of metal scraping against metal. For a moment, Jim thought the craft had caught on the doors and was being torn in half—but the cabin remained intact. They had actually made it
into the bay, and the noise was that of the pontoons being sheared off. Jim braced himself for the final collision against the hangar’s retaining wall. . . or the Klingon phaser blast that was sure to follow them in.

Klaa gaped in surprise as
Galileo,
in a shocking burst of speed, moved out of his sights and into the safety of the hangar bay. He uttered a curse that shed doubt on the fidelity of Kirk’s mother and positioned his weapons directly on the now-closing hangar doors. Klaa still had a chance to blow both Kirk and the
Enterprise
straight to hell. “Bear on
Enterprise!”
he thundered at Vixis.

She answered immediately; she was an excellent strategist and had anticipated Klaa’s order.
“Enterprise
targeted.”

“Firing!” Klaa squeezed the trigger.