STAR TREK: TOS #87 - My Brother's Keeper, Book Three - Enterprise

by Michael Jan Friedman

  “Then,” said the Klingon leader, “the emperor got wind of Qadar’s plan. He had to have been intrigued by it, as it would have removed Starfleet and the Federation from the path of Klingon conquest. However, he couldn’t allow it to be carried out.”

  The captain understood. “Because Qadar’s effort might have placed the emperor in a bad light.”

  “A bad light indeed,” Kang agreed. “If the M’tachtar emerged victorious, what would that have said about the emperor and his supporters on the council? The people of the empire might have turned away from them and embraced Qadar’s group instead. And if the M’tachtar had died in their quest, they might have been revered as heroes—and again, the emperor and the council would have suffered in comparison.”

  “What did the emperor do?” asked Spock, who had been as silent as the void until that moment.

  Kang grunted. “Something he never thought he would even consider. To begin with, he gave Qadar the impression that he was giving in to his arguments—and dispatched the M’tachtar to an unpopulated planet in Federation space, where they would remain until they received further orders. Then he contacted Starfleet Command and sent a warning concerning the M’tachtar’s arrival—effectively setting a trap for Qadar and his warriors.”

  A trap, Kirk reflected. For his own people. It left a bad taste in his mouth and he wasn’t even a Klingon.

  [185] “The emperor fully expected your Starfleet to destroy the M’tachtar,” Kang noted, rapping the briefing room table with his knuckles. “After all, that was what any Klingon would have done. He was taken aback when the return message asked him in what manner he wanted the M’tachtar returned to him.”

  The captain had never met the emperor, but he could imagine the Klingon’s reaction. Not a happy one, he thought, considering Grannoch believed his problem had been solved already.

  “The emperor sent a second transmission,” Kang said, “advising your Starfleet of the danger presented by Qadar and his people. He recommended that the M’tachtar be executed at the earliest opportunity. The return message wasn’t long in coming, apparently. Citing some Federation code of honor, it said your people wouldn’t kill the M’tachtar under any circumstances.”

  Tupogh laughed again, even louder than before. “Honor? Among humans?” he growled derisively.

  Kirk looked at him. “You find that difficult to imagine?”

  “No,” said the Klingon. “I find it impossible.”

  “A discussion for another time,” Kang told them, displaying little patience for the digression this time.

  “How was the matter of the M’tachtar finally resolved?” asked Spock, in an obvious attempt to bring the conference back on track.

  Kang seemed to approve of the question. “As I said, your people refused to kill the M’tachtar. They also refused to send the M’tachtar back, claiming to be concerned that we Klingons would kill them.”

  [186] “Which a spineless p’takh like Grannoch would no doubt have done,” Tupogh observed slyly.

  “Without hesitation,” Kang agreed. “But to his mind, what your Starfleet eventually proposed was the next best thing—to catch the M’tachtar unaware and destroy their vessel, giving them barely enough time to beam down to the planet’s surface. Then energy barriers would be set up to contain them—along with a handful of surveillance devices, so you might be warned when Qadar and his people made attempts to escape.”

  “That wasn’t the only reason for the surveillance equipment,” Phelana pointed out, her antennae extended forward. “We also wanted to make sure the M’tachtar were all right. That they were in good health.”

  Kang frowned across the table at her. “So the Federation has always maintained.”

  The captain regarded the Andorian. “Let me get this straight,” he said. “Qadar’s people were thought to be too dangerous to set free, so you exiled them to an unoccupied planet?”

  The Klingon nodded. “A harsh planet, I might add. Where they would be forced to fight for their survival.”

  “It was that,” Phelana explained, “or try to move them to an easier environment. And considering what we knew of them—”

  “Moving them didn’t seem wise,” the captain finished for her. “I understand what you’re saying.”

  What’s more, he found he approved of it. As tough as the M’tachtar were, it was hard to imagine a life-supporting environment that could have been too [187] harsh for them. And Qadar had proposed to destroy Starfleet Command.

  Nor was it difficult for him to see why Starfleet would keep the M’tachtar situation a secret. First off, anyone who beamed down to the planet would be in danger. Secondly, any contact with the outside could have resulted in the M’tachtar’s escape—as Kirk had seen firsthand.

  But there was a third reason, as well. Starfleet couldn’t have been very proud of maintaining a prison—no matter how necessary or humane that prison might be.

  The captain turned to Phelana again. “The Republic had a part in closing the trap on the M’tachtar ... didn’t it?”

  The Andorian returned his gaze with her shiny, black eyes. “By the time Bannock arrived, the M’tachtar had already been attacked and forced to the planet’s surface. The Republic’s role was to set up the forcefields and the surveillance equipment that surrounded them, while other personnel stood guard over the operation.”

  Kirk nodded, absorbing the information. “And the time when I was serving on the Constitution under Captain Augenthaler? When Mangione and the others commandeered the ship?”

  “One of Starfleet’s occasional visits to the planet,” Phelana explained.

  “Attended by a Klingon vessel, as always,” Kang noted from across the table.

  The Andorian nodded. “For the sake of protocol,” she said, “a Klingon ship was allowed to slip through Federation defenses and attend each visit—[188] scheduled or otherwise. In the instance you’re speaking of, a vessel full of renegade Klingons had gone through the neutral zone in an attempt to free the M’tachtar. The Constitution came close to engaging the renegades.”

  “But in the end,” Kang pointed out, “it was the Klingon ship jevSuS that engaged them. I know, because I was a junior officer on that vessel. Then, as now, you were fortunate there were warriors in the vicinity to clean up your Federation mess.”

  “As I understand it,” said Phelana, “the Constitution was ordered to withdraw at the request of the Klingons—so the renegades could be handled as an internal matter. There was a mention of ... honor at stake.”

  Kang’s mouth pulled up ever so slightly at the corners. “Of course,” he said, declining to address the Andorian’s comment, “the problem we have now is much more serious than that of the renegades. For the last fourteen years, the M’tachtar have been gnashing their teeth and longing for the day they can avenge themselves on the ones who betrayed them—starting with the Klingon emperor and his council.”

  “And,” Tupogh added, “thanks to the ineptitude of the Federation, that day has come.”

  Kelso reddened. “If the Klingons had taken care of the M’tachtar on their own fourteen years ago, none of this would have happened.”

  Tupogh’s eyes narrowed. “If you of the Federation had killed them in battle, as you should have—”

  “Enough!” snarled Kang, his voice filling the [189] briefing room like thunder. “Bickering will get us nowhere.”

  Kirk put a hand on Kelso’s arm. “He’s right, Lieutenant. Let’s stick to the facts here, shall we?”

  Kelso nodded, though it was clear he was still simmering. “Of course, sir. The facts.”

  “I wonder,” said Spock, “how difficult will it be for Qadar and his people to get to the emperor?”

  “I can’t imagine it’d be too easy,” Alden opined. “Especially now that Grannoch has been warned.”

  Tupogh made a sound of derision. “Once he gets into Klingon space, there will be nothing easier. Grannoch cannot hide from the M’tachtar. It would be unseemly. If there
is a challenge to be faced, he must face it head on—regardless of who brings it or why.”

  Kang nodded. “Which is why we must stop Qadar’s vessel before it reaches Klingon space—or the empire is liable to have a mad dog on the throne before very long.”

  “Indeed,” Tupogh remarked soberly. “And wouldn’t that bode well for our survival as an empire.”

  It wouldn’t bode well for the Federation either, the captain reflected. If Qadar was successful in destroying his ruustai-cousin and seizing control of the High Council, his next step would likely be to finish the job he started—the conquest of Starfleet.

  “If we’re to help you stop Qadar’s vessel,” said Kirk, “we need to know more about Qadar and his people—what they can and can’t do.”

  Kang shrugged. “The M’tachtar are just like [190] regular Klingons,” he explained, “but their abilities are amplified. Their strength is greater, their speed is greater, and their eagerness for battle is greater.”

  “Then,” said Spock, “their weaknesses must also be greater.”

  Kang’s dark eyes narrowed. “Weaknesses are for other races,” he replied confidently. “Klingons have none.”

  Unperturbed, the first officer met the Klingon’s glare. “Every species has a weakness,” he insisted. “It is simply a matter of finding it.”

  Kang leaned forward over the briefing room table. When he spoke, his voice was low and dangerous. “I repeat, Vulcan—Klingons do not have weaknesses.”

  “Mr. Spock—” Phelana began, no doubt concerned that her colleague was going too far.

  But Kirk put his hand on her arm, stopping her. He sensed that the Vulcan was up to something, though he didn’t see what it was yet.

  In the meantime, Spock went on. “As I understand it,” he said, “the Klingons have engaged in war with several other spacegoing species. And in most every instance, they have been beaten.”

  The captain could see Kang react. The Klingon’s lips drew back like those of a Terran wolf.

  “For instance,” said the Vulcan, “approximately fifty years ago, your people encountered the Abbutan. An armed conflict ensued in which you were beaten back from three separate Abbutan colonies.” The muscles writhed in Kang’s temples. Clearly, he was less than pleased with Spock’s recital.

  But the first officer didn’t show any signs of stopping. “Three years later,” he noted, “the Empire [191] clashed with the Renns’ala. Once again, there were hostilities, which culminated in the decisive Renns’alan victory at Romenthis Three.”

  Kang’s nostrils flared and his complexion darkened. “I have listened to enough,” he rumbled.

  Spock seemed not to have heard him. “Then there was the Battle of Donatu Five, in which—”

  The Klingon shot to his feet, wide-eyed with fury at the Vulcan’s insolence, and bellowed, “I said it was enough!”

  And with that, he brought his fist down like a hammer on the end of the hexagonal conference table. The table splintered under the impact, sending tiny fragments of wood flying through the air.

  For the next few moments, there was silence. Kang looked down at his hand, which he had bloodied in hitting the table. Then he looked at Spock.

  What’s more, thought Kirk, he seemed to understand what the Vulcan had been up to—and perhaps even respect him for it. By then, of course, the captain understood as well.

  “I think,” he observed in front of all parties present, “we’ve identified the Klingons’ weakness.”

  Kang regarded him for a long time, then sneered—but only halfheartedly. “At least in theory,” he replied.

  But Spock had made his point, Kirk reflected. If anger was a weakness in a normal Klingon, it might be an even greater weakness in the M’tachtar. No one said it out loud—but then, no one had to.

  “I have set aside quarters for you and your officers,” Kang informed the captain in a tone used to being obeyed. “Tupogh will take you there now. I [192] will send for you when I again require your counsel.”

  Kirk frowned. “I trust we won’t be kept waiting long,” he said.

  Kang frowned more deeply. “That remains to be seen.”

  Then he got up and led the way out of the room, and Tupogh followed directly behind him. But the other Klingon, who hadn’t spoken a word, remained there until Kirk and his people had filed out. Then he came after them, his hand on his weapon and a look of vigilance on his face.

  After all, thought the captain, they were still the enemy in many respects, and Kang didn’t want them straying from the path he set out for them. It was a reasonable precaution.

  In fact, if his position and Kang’s were reversed, Kirk would undoubtedly have done the same thing.

  Chapter Fifteen

  KANG SAT in the dark, elevated center seat of his vessel, stared at the stars streaming by on his hexagon-shaped viewscreen, and pondered what the one called Spock had taught him.

  Klingons didn’t normally consider their anger a point of vulnerability. If anything, they saw it as a tool to be honed and used in combat.

  But the Vulcan had shown him that his wrath could be used against him. And though the notion made Kang uncomfortable, it also made him stronger—for the victor was often the one who knew himself the best.

  Abruptly, Kang’s sensor officer swiveled in his chair and turned to him. “Commander,” he said, “I have established the coordinates of the Federation vessel on long-range scan.”

  Kang felt a surge of anticipation—an awakening [194] of his peculiarly Klingon lust for battle. Keeping it tamped down lest he be disappointed, he stood up and crossed the bridge to join the sensor officer at his control console. Peering over the other man’s shoulder, he gazed at the green, orange, and blue graphic on the screen.

  There was a long blue oval evident in the center of the graphic—the symbol for a Federation ship. As the sensor officer had noted, they had established a fix on the Enterprise. And from all appearances, they were closing the gap with each passing second.

  “Their heading?” asked Kang.

  “Without question, the homeworld,” said the sensor officer. “Just as you speculated, Commander.”

  Kang grunted and eyed the graphic again. Then he glanced at his helmsman. “Accelerate to warp seven,” he said.

  The helmsman regarded him with obvious concern. “At warp seven, we may damage the engines.”

  “Then damage them,” Kang snarled, not at all pleased that the wisdom of his command had been questioned. “But first, bring me in range of the Enterprise. Is that understood?”

  The helmsman nodded. “It is understood, Commander.”

  Kang nodded. “Good. I would not want to have to eject you through a torpedo tube due to a simple misunderstanding.”

  The other man’s lip curled at the rebuke, but he turned back to his control panel and carried out [195] Kang’s orders. Clearly, he wasn’t ready to challenge his superior’s authority.

  But he would be someday, Kang mused, having been hardened by experience. And when the helmsman posed his challenge, the son of K’naiah would be ready for him.

  Kirk surveyed the quarters Kang had “set aside” for him—a space barely big enough to be a closet on the Enterprise, with lurid red lighting and two hard, blockish looking bunks.

  Not unreasonably, Kang had assumed the captain would want to room with his first officer. As a result, Kirk found himself watching Spock examine the room for surveillance devices.

  “They’re there,” the captain assured him, having already resigned himself to the fact. “Even if you can’t find them, they’re there.”

  The Vulcan turned to him. “In fact, I have found them. All three of them,” he said.

  “How do you know there aren’t more?” Kirk asked him.

  Spock shrugged. “Because if there were, I would have found those as well.”

  The captain smiled. “You’re that confident?”

  His first officer nodded, his countenance utterly devoid of hubris. “I am,
” he replied.

  Kirk decided it was pointless to pursue that avenue of inquiry any further. Instead, he opened another one.

  “Tell me,” said the captain. “What made you decide to provoke Kang back in that briefing room?”

  [196] Spock looked at him, as dispassionate as ever. “A great many chemical reactions require the application of heat, sir. It was only logical to apply heat to Kang as well.”

  Kirk shook his head in wonder. It was logical, all right—but he didn’t know anyone else who would have looked at the problem quite that way.

  “You know,” he responded, “I don’t believe I’ve been giving you enough credit, Commander.”

  The Vulcan didn’t speak for a moment. Then he said, “I believe that only you would know if that was so, sir.”

  The captain felt the sting of the remark. It was as close as Spock was likely to come to saying “I told you so.”

  He made a mental note to rely more on Mr. Spock’s advice—assuming, of course, that he ever got his ship and the other half of his crew back.

  As soon as the turbolift doors whispered open, Mitchell was catapulted onto the bridge by one of his captors. Then he looked back to see Corbet and Swift, a couple of science officers, shoved out after him.

  Noticing their arrival, Qadar got up from his seat and loomed in front of them, his massive hands on his hips. The navigator had seen friendlier expressions on a Vicarian razorback.

  With a glance at the viewscreen, Mitchell understood why. A rear-view perspective showed him a Klingon battle cruiser in pursuit. The same battle cruiser, no doubt, that they had seen orbiting the prison world.

  [197] A mixed blessing, the navigator thought. As much as he wanted to stop the M’tachtar, he didn’t want to get blown out of space in the process.

  “We are having some difficulty wringing maximum speed out of your engines,” Qadar told them, his voice seething with frustration.