by Star Trek
The slightly scaly alien Ensign at the weapons console turned
sluggishly toward the Commander and announced, "Defense fields
activated; station recorder is on; all 'feet' on yellow alert."
The ensign was a Frillian from the planet Narn. His face
looked more reptilian than anything else, and his ever-open green
eyes were large, with long vertical pupil slits in his iris. His
uniform was cut to suit his unique physiognomy. He had eight
appendages in all, and a short stub of a tail. Frillians, not
having hands to speak of, use their long digited feet to operate
all equipment; One set of four to grasp and manipulate, the other
set of four to walk with. Mr. Spitt did, however, know the
difference between 'Hands', a ship's company and 'Hands',the things
that make it easier to pick your nose, but it pleased him to
constantly punctuate the physiological differences between their
species.
"That's gettin ta be old, Mr. Spitt. Why doncha try to be a
wee less humorous and a bit more purple."
Frillians were red in complexion when asleep and a bright
lavender, when fully awake. This would normally make it easy for
one Frillian to be able to tell if another Frillian was enjoying a
conversation or dozing through it, if it wasn't for the fact that
their race is color-blind, and do talk a great deal in their sleep.
Lieutenant Tomy pressed a series of buttons which allowed her
to bring up a visual of the incoming ship on the main viewscreen.
She snapped a fingernail pressing the last button. That did not
bother her though, for she had already bitten most of the others off
over the past six hours.
"Is that the best ya kin do. I kin hardly tell the ship from
the stars," said the Commander, squinting his blue eyes.
"Viewer is at maximum, Sir," she said as she tried to pull the
fingernail out from under the viewscreen resolution button.
"Any change in speed or course?"
"No, Sir. But they seem to be trying to skirt our position."
She succeeded in removing the nail and tossed it nonchalantly over
PAGE 11
her shoulder. It landed in the Commander's coffee and sank to the
bottom, but O'Hara's attention was elsewhere.
"Don't eat that! It's my friend!" shouted the crimson
Frillian.
"Wake up, Mr. Spitt!" The Commander glared at the weapons
officer. He swore to himself never to let the ensign work a triple
shift again. Most of their small crew had been in and out of
sickbay the two days past, with a curious form of 'intestinal
disfunction of unknown origins'. Unknown to the crew, that is,
but the outpost's doctor pulled Commander O'Hara aside and warned
him that if he ever found any trace of laxatives in the food
processors again, he would have to 'file a detailed report to
Starfleet, that would be incriminating to someone on this outpost
of command rank.'
"Mr. Spitt!" said the Commander.
The Frillian cocked his head, "Aye Sir, it does seem to be
foaming at the mouths," still bearing dark red scales.
"Mr. Tomy, send an advisory to Starfleet and our support ship.
Tight-beam, you know the drill," spoke the Commander, still narrowly
viewing the Frillian. "Place us on red alert while yer at it."
"Aye Sir," she said as the Commander moved next to Mr. Spitt
at the weapons console and readied it. The inbound ship was just
far enough away to keep the targeting computer from getting a
positive lock. But since the Commander was not going to blast the
ship with the first volley, only fire a warning shot, he allowed
the computer to continue the sequence with the inaccuracy variance,
and fire.
"Torpedo away," O'Hara said calmly, as this was a very
routine procedure. At least twice a week they would get a stray
ship with communications problems, or once and a while a contraband
smuggler, never anything worth worrying about. Everyone knew the
Neutral Zone Laws and the consequences of crossover. Klingons do
not fire warning shots, and their patrol is two-fold the
Federation's.
"Sir, scans show the vessel is going sub-light,"
Lieutenant Tomy said. "Their scanners must have picked up our
warning volley. I'll tell them to prepare to be boarded."
"Do that, lassie. How far is our support ship?"
"I have the Schwarzkopf's ETA at seven minutes," she said
confidently.
"Bring us back down to yellow then, and get another officer up
here to replace Spitt, will ya?"
The ruby lights around the station signalling red alert
stopped flashing and were replaced by amber... for about a second
PAGE 12
and a half... Then the red came on again.
"Sir, we are being fired on!" she said with an understandable
bit of excitement.
"Shields up," the Commander said, maintaining his calm, "and
don't worry, me darlin'. The Schwarzkopf is on its way. And
remember our scanners are the best in the Federation and we
couldn't achieve a weapons lock at this distance. I doubt they're
likely ta come close enough ta hit the planet behind us."
The torpedo sped towards them rapidly, closing the gap between
the inbound craft and the outpost. True to the Commander's words,
it was far from its target. Then it detonated. The brilliance
rivaled, then overcame, that of their local sun and still grew in
intensity.
Before Delta Gamma 13's crew could know what was transpiring,
they, like much of the planet behind them, were gone.
PAGE 13
*** THREE ***
The dark grey Klingon ship came about and joined the two D-7
cruisers, taking the point of their wing-formation. They headed
for the ship coming out of the Federation Neutral Zone into Klingon
space. No questions would be asked, no favors granted. The ship
was to be destroyed.
Kang sat in his command chair, no stranger to battle. Dark
joy beat in his breast, as he awaited the confrontation before him.
He was the hunter in search of his prey. His Klingon blood surged
through him, heightening his senses, honing his awareness. He was
lightning waiting to be unleashed.
"Helmsman, increase speed to warp 8!" commanded Kang.
"Increasing speed, Sir!" said the helmsman boldly, not
revealing his nervousness at the order. He felt his ship subtly
vibrate, as her velocity progressed and broke warp factor 8.
The Klingonese ship's new engines were designed to exceed warp
9, but her hull structure had yet to be modified to withstand the
incredible force of the forward thrust at that level.
"Warp 8 achieved!" reported the helmsman.
"Full power to the weapons," Kang ordered.
His ship, the Fury, was the prototype of the D-8 Predator
class battle cruisers. Slightly less armaments adorned her than
the D-7's trailing her but she was swifter and more maneuverable.
A formidable and lethal weapon in the hands of one with the
experience of 'Kang: The Destructor'.
"Commander Kang, I am receiving many Starfleet transmissions
> concerning a large explosion caused by an unidentified Starship.
The sub-space transmissions are garbled and something is hindering
reception, but the last report stated that the Starship headed into
the neutral zone at approximately the same point we picked up the
intruder ahead of us." Gor, the communications officer turned to
look directly at his commander. "Sir, the explosion was described
as 'force S.N. point 1', one tenth that of a Stellar Nova."
"A Starfleet trick?" Kang queried.
"I do not believe so, Sir. They are using the Federation
Emergency channel, non-coded. Though they are clever, we have
never known them to broadcast disinformation on the Federation
Emergency channel," Gor stated.
"Could it be one of ours, Sir?" the navigator asked.
"That is probably what the Federation believes but until we
PAGE 14
have found a path around the Organians, we have no way of engaging
in open hostilities." Kang leaned forward in his chair. "It is
more than likely that this is a result of some miscreant rebel
insurrection, spilling out of their hands and into our laps." He
cursed the Federation under his breath. "This should be an easy
kill; nevertheless, you do not approach a Vorshadragon from the
front. The ship's weaponry is an unknown. It may prove prudent to
attack from all sides." He paused in thought, then, "Mr. Gor,
raise the Terror and Dorgok, ship to ships."
The communications officer quickly opened a comm channel to
the flanking ships.
"Done, Sir. Commanders Volte and Pakor on speakers," spoke
Gor.
"This is Kang. Prepare to execute battle maneuver Tychon 7-k.
Split at my command." He rested confidently back into his chair.
"Mark!" he commanded.
All three battle cruisers turned as if joined together by some
invisible cable, then suddenly broke formation, each making a wide
arc to intersect the intruder's projected position. Like three
graceful hawks they flew, awaiting the sight of prey to make the
kill. Farther apart, then out of each other's sight. Knowing when
next they meet, they will share victory and taste blood.
Kang observed the stars, their patterns, their various colors
and degrees of luminescence. They were a majestic back-drop, he
thought, for the battle that was ahead. He rubbed his moustache
with his forefinger and thumb and watched the light of the heavens
before him... Watching and waiting.
Kang was about average size for a Klingon. Although he was a
strong man, he had always relied on his cunning in battle, whether
it be in hand to hand combat or ship against ship. The dark eyes,
under his bushy eyebrows, scanned the view ahead waiting for the
moment that his enemy would come into view. He was a warlord in
the truest sense, a worthy adversary for any opponent. But he did
have a heart. A heart that he kept hid from most men and a
tenderness that he would only share with his wife. He could be the
truest of friends to those whom he deemed worthy of his friendship,
but one would be hard pressed to find an enemy more fierce.
"My lord, the vessel ahead has shields up and her torpedoes
are armed. Scans indicate that their warheads are equipped with an
unusually unstable material that our computers cannot yet
identify." Her eyes expressed her concern to the commander. "I
recommend caution, my lord," said Mara, science officer and wife to
Kang.
Before Kang could respond, Gor broke in. "Sir, we are being
hailed by the intruder." He placed his hand to his ear.
"Commander, the intruder wishes to discuss terms of surrender," he
said.
PAGE 15
"We are Klingons!" he reminded his Comm. officer harshly.
"We take no prisoners."
"But," Gor stammered.
"Enough!" Kang ordered. Then to his helmsman, "Prepare to
fire!"
Kang could see the two other vessels of Klingon origin coming
into view behind and to port of the intruder. Just as the faintest
smile of satisfaction crossed Kang's face, the trespassing ship
fired directly at the D-7 far to its rear.
The Dorgok tried evasive maneuvers but the torpedo never
needed to make contact and in an instant the Dorgok ceased to be.
The resulting explosion was spectacular, albeit much smaller than
the one fired on the Federation outpost. Nevertheless the
concussive force rocked and shook both engaging cruisers and the
intruder's vessel as well.
On the Fury, alert claxons sounded and combustion sirens
wailed. In the darkness of the temporarily blacked out bridge,
smoke spewed from the overhead sensor array, sparks giving off the
only light. The emergency lights flickered on, casting a red haze
in the smoky command room. Backup power lit up the bridge systems
bringing control back to the ship.
"Never have I seen such a weapon," the helmsman spoke in awe.
"Sir," Gor spoke as he clambered to his feet. "It is they
who want 'us' to surrender."
Kang glared at the communications officer with murder in his
eyes. Gor averted his own. His commander had killed with less
rage than this, but it was an anger born of frustration at the
situation rather than toward the individual. Kang now knew that
their military posture was that of the helpless. He also knew that
for a Klingon there was no surrender. They were warriors, bred for
conquest, not capitulation. 'This must not be,' he thought to
himself.
Kang assessed the field of battle. He assessed his ship and
crew. Only forty seconds had passed since the force wave had hit
them. If they must die they will at least wound their enemy. He
noted that it would take several seconds to penetrate the shields
of the Starship and destroy it. He also noted that in the first of
those seconds they and the Terror could easily be taken out. Then
a thought came to him and he regained his composure.
"This weapon they have would bring power to the Empire.
Enough power to destroy Organia and all who would stand in our
way." He looked at each of the faces of his crew in turn and
finally rested his eyes on his wife. Mara was the only one who
could read the doubt on his face, but just looking at her gave him
strength.
PAGE 16
Kang turned to Gor, "We will play the diplomat until we either
have the weapon or an opening, and then I swear, by the strength of
the One God, we will crush the invader and scatter his ashes
through the universe!" His fist crashed into the arm of his chair.
"Open communications to our enemy!" Kang ordered.
Gor rushed to his post, thankful for his life and heartened by
the words of his commander. "Channel open, my lord!" Then "Audio
only," he added.
"This is Kang, Commander of the Imperial Cruiser Fury. With
whom am I speaking?" He awaited the reply. After a few moments it
came.
"This is the Captain of the Starship with no name," the bridge
speakers boomed. "Obey my command and you may yet live to
serve
your Emperor. Defy me on any count and your death will be
immediate." There was a pause, long enough for the words to hit
home. "You will contact the Imperial Throne World. Make clear to
them what you have seen and let them know that it is only a
fraction of the power I hold."
The voice spoke eloquently, almost elegantly, but forcefully.
Assured that the words which were spoken were weighed heavily by the
Klingon and confident that nothing in the Empire could be called
his 'rival', the voice continued. "Make it known to the ruling
council that you and your sister ship are to escort me to a
rendezvous with your Emperor, where we will discuss the future of
the known universe."
Kang heard a gasp from his wife. She was not the only one on
the bridge who feared for the Empire. To lead this angel of
destruction to the Throne World was Galactic suicide; no, genocide.
"I come in peace," the voice said. "However, do not invite my
wrath upon yourself, for as you have witnessed, my vengeance is
irrevocable. No harm will come to anyone if my will is honored."
The voice over the speaker ceased.
Kang began to reply, barely able to control his anger. Before
his lips could move in response, his communications officer
announced, "Channel is closed, my lord."
Rage hit Kang. Flames of anger began burning in his mind, yet
he maintained command of himself. More than anything he wanted to