Before Destruction!
Page 9
said.
"According to regulations, we are required to have them in
that state of readiness in the event of evacuation. Isn't that
correct, Mr. Grensk?"
Lieutenant Grensk was unaware that the Captain was speaking to
him, until his name was mentioned. He snapped his head up to face
the Captain and replayed the question to himself. "That is
correct, Captain. However,"
"It appears we will have to, in the interest of adhering to
Starfleet regs. concerning the safety of my crew, forego the
Commodore's personal order to use the shuttle craft as
transportation to the planet," Jim said, smiling inwardly but
intoning his voice to express sadness at having to disobey the
Commodore's order.
"But Sir," the lieutenant stressed unemotionally, "the
Commodore specifically,"
"Lieutenant," Spock interrupted. "You of all people would not
insinuate that the Commodore would order a Starfleet Captain to
violate standing Starfleet orders," he stated as if it were a
foregone conclusion, not a question.
"No, Sir," he responded to the First Officer. "Captain, I
would like to offer my services to Mr. Scott to expedite the
preparation of one craft, in time for planetfall."
PAGE 49
"Request denied. That would keep you from the duties assigned
you by the Commodore. Whatever they are." Kirk rested back into
his chair, as if he intended to remain there. "Besides, I don't
want you getting under foot of Mr. Scott's repair detail."
"But Sir, I am fully rated on,"
"That will be all Lieutenant," Jim silenced him abruptly.
"Aye, Sir," responded Grensk. "Permission to leave the
bridge?"
"Granted," said Kirk and all eyes, many quite curious,
followed Grensk's exit.
"Mr. Scott, get your men started and keep an eye out for
anything suspicious."
"Aye, Sir," Scotty said and exited the bridge.
"Uhura, have Security post four guards around the shuttlebay,
with instructions not to allow Lieutenant Grensk admittance," Jim
said, then added, "Tell Security that phasers are not to be issued
to the guards."
"Right away, Sir," she said as she pondered the meaning of his
command.
"Mr. Spock," Kirk said as he lifted himself from the chair, "I
believe we have a date to keep in sickbay. Mr. Checkov, the
con is yours."
"Aye, Keptin," Checkov said eagerly, unable to restrain the
joy from his voice. To him it was a rare and precious thing to sit
in the command chair of the Enterprise. Few would disagree.
The lift doors closed behind the Captain and Spock.
"What do you suppose that is all about?" queried Uhura.
"I don't know," spoke Sulu, "but the plot's thickening."
PAGE 50
*** NINE ***
The Imperial Throneship Thunder dwarfed by far the brave
vessel from Federation space. Blinking running lights were the
only sign that these ships were under power and at the ready to
enter battle on any given moment. The invisible deflector screens
of both ships dropped simultaneously, on cue, as they reached the
pre-arranged transfer point. Like two silent statues, they
remained motionless, dispassionate to the rest of the universe.
The Emperor stood on the dimly lit transporter platform with a
guard on each side and a third directly behind, with his back
towards the Emperor. All but the Klingon monarch had weapons
drawn, as they prepared for the dissimilation of their atoms and
their arrival on enemy's figurative soil.
"rIH ,jol!", the Emperor commanded his transporter chief in
their native tongue.
The transporter field wave caught the four men, transferring
them, body, soul and spirit, into the unknown. In literally 'no-
time' for the Emperor, he found himself squinting in the bright
transporter room of his enemy. Before him stood a tall, lean, blue-
skinned Andorian, who bowed low to him and righted himself once
again.
The Andorian took one step towards the transporter platform.
"Emperor Tromok of the Klingon Realm, my lord bids you greetings
and welc... "
The Emperor dove at the Andorian, knocking him to the floor
and pinning him there. With a speed that belied his massiveness,
he pulled a dagger from his wrist-band and held it to his
opponent's azure throat. "What treachery is this?", Tromok spoke
in a deep and deadly voice, "Where are my guards?". He and the
Andorian were alone in the transporter room.
"They are suspended in transit," the Andorian whispered as the
pressure from the blade on his windpipe, would not allow volume.
"They are well, I swear. My master sent me, unarmed, to escort you
to him."
"He betrays our agreement, and you will pay the price."
"He does not, Sir," the Andorian whispered as boldly as
possible. "He allowed you three escorts on board. You have three
and they are on board... technically," he said as his antennae
began to droop.
"Now answer me this and choose your words with care, or you
shall surely die. Why has 'your lord' practiced this deceit?"
"He thought it prudent to keep," he took a shallow breath,
PAGE 51
"to keep our guards separate to," another breath, "ensure that no
hostile action might," The Emperor lessened the pressure to
allow the Andorian to finish his speech before passing out. "might
erupt between your guards and ours. He wanted control of the
situation to be between you and him. 'At the top', so to speak."
The Emperor understandably did not believe that this was the
whole truth, an element of it perhaps, but he knew there was more.
The stakes were too high for him to back out now. In the least, he
would lose his life. At most he would lose his honor, an
experience he never wanted to face again.
The Emperor lifted himself off the Andorian and with his free
hand, grabbed the man by the back of his shaggy white hair, pulling
him to his feet. He forced him against the wall and replaced the
dagger to its sheath hidden in his wristband.
"You will instruct your Master to let me speak to my ship.
They will detect that I am alone and attack at any moment."
"The transporter has been modified to allow your guard's life
signs to emanate from within the system. Your ship has not lost
contact with them. They merely cannot get a direct fix on them,"
the Andorian said, still heaving air in and out of his lungs.
Tromok checked his rage that was building up within him... for
the moment. He was in a trap with every exit leading to
destruction. All but one. The one he was being maneuvered into by
his enemy. 'It is said,' he thought to himself, 'that sometimes
the only way out is through. Very well. I am still the predator
here. The trap will be my own!' He felt the mechanism inside his
glove, giving him the confidence of one who is prepared for the
worst.
"Very well, lead me to your master," spoke the Emperor of
Klinzhai.
>
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The Emperor released him and let him step away to catch his
breath until he was able to comply. The Andorian calmly turned and
proceeded to the exit. Tromok followed, keeping no further than a
meter between himself and his escort.
They made their way down the hall to a turbo-shaft, then up
two decks and out to another hall, looking identical to the first.
There were no other crewmen to be seen by the Klingon Monarch. No
muffled voices, no other sounds than that of the ship itself and
the footsteps the two made. He strained his ears to hear the
rustle of clothing or the quiet breathing of an assassin possibly
behind any door. He could detect nothing, but tensed himself
against the unexpected anyway.
The Andorain stopped short of a double door entrance marked
'Conference Room One' and stepped aside to allow the Emperor to
pass. He bowed low again and extended his blue hand, indicating to
PAGE 52
the Klingon that he may now enter.
It would be a sign of weakness to force the Andorian to enter
first but at the moment of Tromok's hesitation, the double doors
parted. They revealed a long table with a massive chair at the far
end. The figure seated in the chair rose to reveal his own
impressive stature. His short light brown hair with streaks of
grey, his posture and stance, his purple robe and even his eyes
spoke of nobility and power embodied within.
"Mocdar Jek Tromok, Emperor of all the realm of Klinzhai,
welcome to my humble ship," he said with grace and a formal bow of
his own.
The Emperor stepped through the door which closed behind him.
"And who is it that bids me welcome?" Tromok rumbled.
"The man who offers a galaxy," he said and placed both hands
on his hips. "I also offer you my hospitality. Please be seated."
The Emperor remained standing. "Klingons do not sit with the
enemy. Their Emperor makes no exception." He too placed his hands
on his hips, facing his foe. His cape fanned out over his
shoulders and spilled down to the ground. "Unless I am convinced
otherwise, I will stand," his deep voice challenged.
"Very well," the host smiled as if he regarded the Emperor as
merely charming. "Might his Highness consider a truce until our
positions are established?"
The monarch considered this for a moment, knowing some
semblance of progress must be made. "Agreed," he stated and eased
himself into the chair designed for a smaller boned human. He
pressed a button in his gloved hand and felt a tiny comforting
click.
"I assume that you have already decided on an offer for my
weapon? Possibly several counteroffers, if the first is
unacceptable to me?" the Host spoke, as he sat back in his own
chair, draping his right leg over the cushioned arm. He looked
thoroughly comfortable and nonchalant.
"Before we bargain," the Emperor looked steadfastly into his
host's hazel eyes, "I would know your name," he demanded.
A smile that could charm a roaring volcano spread across the
enemy's handsome face, "Of course you would," he said most amiably.
"My name is well established throughout the known universe."
"Enough!" the Emperor stood to his feet, toppling his chair
behind him. With lightning speed he produced a small disrupter
that was hidden in the small of his back. He aimed it at his
opponent's midsection. "I will kill you without your name!" he
bellowed.
The smile never left the host's face, though he did raise an
PAGE 53
eyebrow at the Emperor's speed and shortness of temper. "It is my
race's custom, granted an out of date one, to allow a last word to
be spoken by the one who is about to be... 'deceased'."
"I have no constraints to such a custom."
"This 'is' my ship," the enemy simply offered.
"So be it. I am not without honor, however, if I detect the
slightest flinch, you will be indistinguishable from the dust of
your vaporized chair."
"Understood."
"Speak then, this 'last word'," the Emperor commanded.
"Your disrupter is... empty."
The Emperor depressed the firing button. Nothing happened.
"I ordered the Andorian who escorted you, to lock on to all
close proximity power sources, which might be used in a weapon, and
transport them to me." With his left hand he produced two small
power cells of differing size from his breast pocket and set them
on the table before him. "I know that this first energy pack is
the one you assumed to be powering your disrupter. I am, however,
at a loss as to what 'this' power cell was used for," he said,
indicating the smaller of the two."
The Emperor felt an intense pang in his stomach, realizing the
sonic synthesizer hidden in his glove, was as useless as the weapon
that was still pointed at his host.
"No matter," said the Host, obviously in complete control of
the situation. To stress the fact, he casually drew a weapon of
his own, not aiming it but merely letting his guest understand that
there may be a limit to his hospitality. "Please sit now, and you
may yet find the answers to your many questions."
"I will sit." He dropped his weapon to the floor and slowly
righted his chair, "but I am weary of the games you play." He was
in a mild state of shock at being so easily outwitted by the man.
"You demanded my presence. Very well, I am here. All I need now is
to know your price." He sat and faced his host, concealing his
fury and his shame.
"I have a price... and it is high, but I will not yet name it.
And though I will not compromise, I am still curious as to what you
intended to offer me."
"I offer you first, your life. Make no mistake, that will be
the first thing you will lose if I do not return to my ship.
Whatever else it costs us."
"No doubt, but continue," he said. His patience seemed to
have no end, but the Emperor was not deceived. He knew a fellow
PAGE 54
warrior, and was feeling nothing but danger from the man across
from him.
"I offer you second, a planet to rule under me. You will
preside over all affairs that you deem worthy, and you may
establish any laws of your choice, as long as you remain loyal to
the Klingon Empire. Which is the third part to my offer. In so
swearing your loyalty, an oath not to be taken lightly, I will
provide two fully armed battle cruisers for your personal
protection. You may use them as planetary defense against any
intruder who is not also loyal to me."
"That is, indeed, a grand offer," said the host with a nod of
his head. "If I were, per chance, a less ambitious man, I would
consider accepting it." He stroked his grey temple with his middle
finger. "It is good but it is not my price."
The Emperor's face shone red and his jaw muscles flexed
visibly through his cheeks as he clenched his teeth. He knew his
own patience was required, but to expect a Klingon, and not just
much. "What is your price?" he asked between his teeth, debating
if he actually wanted to know. If nothing else, he would agree to
all concessions, make and receive payment, and then obliterate this
pompous 'targ', if he had to destroy a planet from beneath his feet
to do it.
"I, lord Tromok, am a ruler without an empire of my own.
They say 'a king, less his kingdom rules an imbecile.'" His
countenance grew suddenly cold as he forced himself to remember
his past and likewise prepare for the revelation that he would
now bestow upon the Klingon Emperor. "I had recently launched a
campaign against the Federation, the very first stage mind you,
only to have it thwarted by a man I would rather have fought beside
than against." His own anger began to emerge as he spoke of his
past. "I am hardly finished with Starfleet, but there is an old
Klingon proverb that seems to be quite appropriate: 'If you cannot
lead your own camp... lead your enemy's'." He stopped for a moment
to see if his meaning was comprehended.
The Emperor barely heard the words spoken to him. "If you
have mentioned your demand, I have not heard it," he said darkly.
"My price is the Klingon Empire!"
"Then you do rule an imbecile," the Emperor spat hotly. "I am