Agents of Influence

by Dayton Ward

  We’ll just see about that.

  The defiant thought barely had time to register with him before Kirk was adjusting the settings on his tricorder and attempting to tighten and refine its scanning capabilities. Not nearly so powerful as a space vessel’s onboard sensors, this smaller unit only had so much range while being hampered by the asteroid field’s background interference. Becoming frustrated with the tricorder’s lack of cooperation, he was almost ready to chuck the thing altogether when one of its indicator lights abruptly flashed green.

  “Some kind of device,” he said, glancing toward Binnix. “Each of those two groups has one, in backpacks or satchels. I’m not picking up any sign of explosive material, but their outer casings look to be shielded. They’re not very big, but if they’re bombs, then they don’t have to be.” He held the tricorder so she could see it.

  She replied, “If they are bombs, then just one positioned in the right spot could be enough to cripple one of the Endeavour’s impulse engines. Maybe both, if they have time to place it correctly.”

  “We’re not going to let that happen.” Kirk shook his head. “We can’t. It’s that simple. Kirk to Stano, are you watching the Orions’ deployment?”

  There was a brief pause before Endeavour’s first officer replied, “Yes, Captain.”

  “Bring one person from your section and head for the rear of the ship. Mister Sulu, that goes for you and Lieutenant Uhura too. We’re on our way now. Everyone else, maintain your positions and your fields of fire.”

  “Aye, sir,” Sulu said. “We’ll meet you there.”

  As he prepared to move from his place of concealment, Kirk heard Binnix say, “You know I’m coming with you, right?”

  “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  No sooner did he take his first step away from the protective outcropping than a streak of disruptor fire drove into the other side of the rock. Kirk flinched at the blast’s proximity, his instinctive jump backward sending him momentarily off balance in the asteroid’s lighter gravity.

  “Kirk!” Binnix grabbed his left arm, helping to steady him. “You all right?”

  Before he could answer, something moved to his right, obscuring part of the illumination from the Endeavour’s external lighting. Binnix’s immediate reaction was to pull the stock of her phaser rifle to her shoulder and fire the weapon at an unseen target. She fired again as Kirk raised his own rifle, ready to provide cover fire. He was in time to see two dark figures repelled by the force of Binnix’s weapon strike. Set to heavy stun, the rifle would of course cause no permanent damage. In the distance behind him, Kirk caught sight of two more attackers maneuvering between rocky obstacles and aimed his weapon in their direction. They disappeared from view before he could fire, prompting a grunt of frustration.

  “Come on,” he snapped.

  With Binnix on his heels, Kirk lunged from their defensive position and aimed himself at the Endeavour. Around them, sporadic exchanges of weapons fire streaked through the near gloom that was not totally pushed back by the starship’s lights. The low gravity here made movement easy enough, provided one possessed the training and skill necessary to maneuver in such an environment. Without the sound of energy discharges from the different weapons, it was an almost surreal sensation. Sudden movements and especially abrupt changes in direction carried risks. Still, it had taken little time to reacquaint himself with the process of operating in his EV suit over ground in a tactical setting.

  Then he bounded around a particularly large piece of rock rising up from the canyon floor and found himself face-to-face with seven Orions.

  Well, he thought. Damn.

  Twenty-seven

  They were close.

  They were so close, and yet to Netal the objective still seemed so very distant. Not out of reach; not yet, at least, but any thoughts of his task being easy were vanishing with each passing moment.

  “This way,” Netal said to his companion, Vodat. The words came out more as a barked command than simple guidance. Perhaps that in itself was a testament to how frustrating the situation was becoming. He pushed away the unwelcome, distracting thought and concentrated his attention on the scanner in his left hand. “We are getting closer to their defenses. Be ready to fire.” Shifting his disruptor rifle so its barrel rested across his left forearm, he felt the fingers of his right hand tighten around the weapon’s pistol grip.

  Using the scanner to guide him, along with Vodat and the rest of his team, over the canyon’s broken terrain, Netal saw they were approaching a point where the ground cover would no longer protect them. Before him was the massive hull of the crashed starship, many times larger than the Vekal Piltari while looking far more fragile. Its impulse engine ports faced outward from the resting place the ship had found in this corner of the canyon. From this distance, he now could see the heads and even upper torsos of a few of the Endeavour’s crew. Most took refuge behind rock formations or in holes undoubtedly cut by their weapons into the canyon floor. Others were scrambling from one position to another. Fighters from both groups were visible, maneuvering in and around the various natural impediments provided by the asteroid. Punctuating all of this action were irregular exchanges of weapons fire as each side sought an advantage over the other. At such proximity, one did not need a scan of the area to determine an enemy’s location. This was battle at its most primitive, with two opposing forces facing off on largely open ground.

  “Some of the Starfleet people are shifting their positions,” he told Vodat. “They may be realizing our intentions, or at least they suspect as much.”

  “Netal,” said Avron over the assault team’s communications frequency. “More Starfleet personnel are coming out of the ship They may suspect what we are attempting.”

  She indicated where to look and Netal noted more than a dozen figures, each clad in the distinctive silver Starfleet excursion suits, emerging from an airlock set into the side of the Endeavour’s enormous, saucer-shaped hull. Others, he saw, were appearing from access points along the hull’s upper portion. Most carried phaser rifles, moving quickly in the reduced gravity. Already outnumbered, at least so far as he was able to determine with his scanner, the fight now was shifting even further in favor of the Starfleet crew.

  It was now, he knew, or never.

  “Will you be ready to deploy your device?” he asked.

  Avron replied, “Yes. We are almost in position.”

  In fairness, it was not a logical leap to make. Surely the starship’s captain knew—absent extreme circumstances—its crew would likely outnumber any group attempting to make an unauthorized boarding. Orion vessels did not carry a complement of a size at all sufficient for such a bold action, hence this secondary plan put into motion by D’zinn. As for the tactic itself, damaging or disabling the crashed vessel’s primary power source was the most effective means of mitigating its greater numbers. The crew’s priorities would shift to survival, their attention drawn to immediate needs, and leave them vulnerable to exploitation. If Netal and his people were successful, it would place them in a powerful position over the Endeavour’s captain. This had been enough to convince D’zinn to go forward with the plan. Netal could only hope the Vekal Piltari commander’s faith in his proposal was well founded.

  “Avron,” he said, “be ready to move. Everyone else, increase your rate of fire. We need to continue distracting as many of their people as we can, for as long as possible.”

  After receiving acknowledgments from other group leaders, he tapped Vodat on the shoulder before gesturing for his team to follow him. A quick look across the expanse of open terrain separating him from the starship showed more weapons fire as his people heeded his instructions. The reactions from the Starfleet personnel were what he expected, but whereas their shots continued to originate from largely static positions, the reports from his group’s weapons appeared more chaotic. His people were firing on the move, probing and hunting for openings in the defensive perimeter that could be exploited.


  It did not take long for Netal to find his own opportunity. A small yet still discernible gap had appeared in the defensive line, possibly a consequence of only two or perhaps four of the Endeavour crew moving from their positions to redeploy elsewhere. He spied at least two figures maneuvering toward the ship, where the massive impulse engine ports remained visible. Two others moved in a similar direction as though intending to meet up with their colleagues.

  “Netal,” said Avron over the comm link. “Now is our time.”

  Raising his disruptor rifle, Netal replied, “Agreed. Advance on the target.”

  He stepped from behind the rock cropping, shifting the bulky pack across his back again and allowing his weapon’s muzzle to lead the way as he pressed forward. Without really aiming, he fired as he lunged first left, then back to his right, using the lower gravity to his advantage while bounding from rock formation to jagged outcropping. Lacking sound to warn him of incoming fire or the possible approach of Endeavour personnel, he had no choice but to divide his attention between the ground at his feet and possible threats from ahead of him or to either side.

  Then there was no more cover.

  A stretch of open ground lay before him and the crashed ship. It took Netal a moment to realize that he had somehow breached the defensive line. This was confirmed when movement to his right made him turn in that direction in time to see a pair of silver-suited figures scrambling to shift their weapons toward him. Vodat, following behind him, was faster and her aim sure as she leveled her disruptor rifle on the new threats. Two pairs of rapid-fire disruptor bolts crossed the intervening space, striking their targets with surprising precision. Both Starfleet defenders were pushed against the rocks behind them before they slumped to the ground.

  “We must keep moving,” Netal said, gesturing for Vodat and the other five members of his team to follow him. “Now that we have breached their lines, they will rally their forces with even greater ferocity.”

  Two more targets presented themselves as he led the way forward, this time emerging from a ditch or depression behind a low stone formation. The transparent faceplates of their helmets reflected the Endeavour’s lights, drawing attention to themselves as if they had activated a homing beacon. Netal gave them no chance, firing his weapon and catching both Starfleet officers before they could bring their phaser rifles to bear. Once they fell, there appeared to be no one else in the immediate vicinity. His approach to the vessel had brought them to its aft starboard quarter, not far from the impulse engines. He was close enough to see that only one of the two engines was active, and that at an obviously reduced level. Were they damaged or simply preserving resources? Also visible were members of Endeavour’s crew redeploying to defend that area.

  “Almost there, Vodat,” he said.

  The younger man replied, “Others are having success, as well.”

  Glancing to his left and right, Netal saw the other members of his assault force engaging Endeavour personnel at close quarters. From what he could discern, the engagements appeared somewhat balanced, with each side claiming small victories either in advancing on the target or defending against that action. A quick study of his scanner told him his people had broken through the line at several points. Avron’s group in particular looked to be making good progress toward their target, though he noted additional icons representing Starfleet personnel converging on their location. The symbols depicting Vekal Piltari’s crew members also were maneuvering in response to these developments. Other Endeavour crew members maintained their positions, sticking to whatever scheme their commander had put into motion to protect the ship. They were being augmented by still more people emerging from three different airlocks around the hull. Left unchecked, their number would quickly grow to dwarf his team.

  “The airlocks,” Netal said into the open comm frequency. “Fire on the airlocks. Try to keep them from getting more people outside.”

  Kneeling as he unlimbered the pack from his back, he watched his instructions heeded in seconds with new salvos of disruptor fire concentrating on the three portals. The effects were just as immediate. Anyone still inside the airlocks backtracked to the safety of the ship’s interior. Those who had made it to the surface scrambled for cover. The suppressive fire supplied by his assault force was having the intended effect, keeping most of the Starfleet people at bay.

  With practiced ease and with Vodat helping him, Netal extracted an oversized rectangular container from the pack. Opening it revealed the compact, multibarreled launcher and accompanying portable control console. Not a weapon in the conventional sense, each of the device’s six barrels carried a portable magnetic field inhibitor. Of Andorian design, the inhibitors were intended for use by covert operatives charged with such distasteful activities as sabotaging ships, ground vehicles, and other electronics in such a manner as to make the disruption appear accidental. D’zinn and the Vekal Piltari crew had acquired several of the devices thanks to a mutually beneficial black-market transaction with a Tellarite arms dealer. With the targeting scanner and activation controls built into the remote control, deploying the package of inhibitors was a simple matter. Activating the portable console, which featured controls that were accessible even through his excursion suit’s padded gloves, Netal needed only seconds to home in on his desired placement: the Endeavour’s starboard impulse engine. If everything was going to plan, the starship’s port engine would be the target of Avron’s team.

  “Deploying now,” he said, pressing the appropriate control. That simple act was answered as six projectiles ejected from the launcher, each of the inhibitors powered by its own limited-range flight system. Following the course Netal had given them, they arced up and away from him and toward the Endeavour. It took only moments for the devices to cross the gap before affixing themselves at irregular intervals along the outer frame of the starship’s starboard impulse engine.

  All that remained was to activate them.

  “Netal!”

  The warning from Vodat was sharp and high pitched, causing Netal to look up in time to see a lone figure in a Starfleet excursion suit and carrying a phaser rifle, staring directly at him.

  * * *

  For what seemed like an eternity, Kirk stood all but frozen in place, staring at the seven Orions who appeared equally startled to see him. His mind screamed a simple statement.

  This is not a good day.

  All but one of the pirates carried short, ugly disruptor rifles. The remaining Orion was kneeling beside some kind of packing container, next to which sat an odd, squat device perhaps a meter tall. Its most prominent feature was the set of six tubes packed in a tight circle. He had no idea what it was, only that it looked decidedly unfriendly.

  “Captain.” The voice of Lieutenant Sulu echoed in Kirk’s helmet. “Whatever they launched at the Endeavour came from somewhere near your position.”

  “So I’m learning, Mister Sulu.”

  The kneeling Orion locked eyes with Kirk, who in that one brief moment understood that his adversary was quickly realizing his plan—whatever it might be—had reached critical mass. Perhaps he was beginning to comprehend his own fate was no longer in his own hands; the situation was spiraling so far out of control there was no longer any hope of escape. Regardless, there was a mission to complete, and no choice left to him but to finish what he had started.

  The Orion’s right hand moved for the strange construct. In that moment Kirk saw the control panel. Realization dawned at the same instant his phaser rifle raised as though of its own volition. He felt his finger tightening on the weapon’s firing stud. Everything to this point had happened in the space of mere heartbeats.

  He was still too slow.

  Kirk did not deliver his first phaser volley in time to stop the Orion from pressing some control on the compact panel. He was only vaguely aware of something flashing in the distance behind him even as the phaser beam struck the Orion’s chest. The pirate’s hand was still on the controls when his body seized
in response to the stun beam before he slumped forward and collapsed to the ground. This was enough to shake his companions from their hesitation and they reacted by bringing their disruptors to bear. Backpedaling in search of cover, Kirk continued firing his rifle. Several of his shots missed while others found targets, sending those Orions falling to the canyon floor. He flinched as a streak of red energy passed a bit too close in front of his helmet’s faceplate. Intense light overloaded his vision and he instinctively dropped to one knee, firing his weapon blind.

  By then, Kirk had company. He felt a hand on his shoulder just as his vision began to clear, and he was able to make out blue streaks of phaser energy lancing past him to strike the few remaining Orions. Each staggered, falling to the ground. The entire group was down in seconds, leaving him alone.

  Almost alone.

  “You okay?” Morgan Binnix said, and he again felt her hand on his shoulder.

  Kirk grunted, pushing himself to his feet. “I’ve been better.” Blinking away the last of his compromised sight, he raised his phaser rifle and checked the immediate vicinity. He pivoted from right to left, his weapon’s muzzle guiding the way as he searched for threats.

  “I think we’ve managed to stop them, sir,” reported Sulu after Kirk requested status reports from those officers he had designated as section leaders, tasked with overseeing a specific area of the Endeavour’s defensive perimeter.

  “We’re doing a head count now,” added Ensign Kerry Zane, a member of the starship’s security detail. His deep voice boomed through Kirk’s helmet speakers. “We lost four when the phaser cannons blew, but no other fatalities. We’ve got between forty-five and fifty Orions accounted for. We’re doing another sweep to be sure, but what are we supposed to do with them all?”

  Kirk grimaced. “That’s a good question.” He continued his survey of the area, now seeing members of the Endeavour crew moving about and collecting unconscious Orions wherever they lay upon the canyon’s barren terrain. Most were being moved to a point perhaps twenty meters away from the crashed ship. As the wreck itself moved into his field of vision, he noted several figures in silver Starfleet environment suits clambering on or near the ship’s hull and in particular the massive impulse engines.