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

by Michael Jan Friedman

  [211] “You are familiar with our proverbs?” Kang asked the Vulcan.

  “Only some of them,” said Spock. “Specifically, the ones mentioned in a tape to which your crew allowed me access. I believe it is called ‘The Battle Cry of Kahless.’ ”

  The Klingon grunted. “I am familiar with it.”

  “Then you understand my point. No matter the magnitude of the odds against Captain Kirk, one cannot say with certainty that he will fail in his effort. To deprive him of a chance to regain his ship would be ...” The Vulcan hesitated. “I believe the term is dishonorable.”

  Kang’s lips spread into a thin, grudging smile. Clearly, Spock’s words had struck a chord in him. “You are clever,” he told the first officer. “But do you honestly think your captain can be the running man of the proverb? You think he has the courage?”

  Spock answered without hesitation. “I have never encountered a sentient being as courageous or dedicated as Captain Kirk. If bravery is the only quality he requires in order to succeed in the task at hand, you may already consider it done.”

  The Klingon eyed him a moment longer. Then he turned to Kirk. “Your first officer is most accomplished at bending the truth.”

  The captain shook his head. “That’s where you’re wrong, Kang. Commander Spock may be accomplished at a great many things, but bending the truth isn’t one of them.”

  The Klingon mulled what he had heard. “Very well,” he said at last. “I’ll give you your hour, Kirk. See that you make the most of it.”

  [212] “Believe me,” the captain told him, “you won’t be disappointed.”

  At least that was his fervent hope. And if he was even half as courageous as Spock had made him out to be, maybe his gambit would find a way to succeed after all.

  Chapter Seventeen

  THE ENGINE ROOM had been dark for several seconds, its only illumination that of its emergency lighting strips, when Mitchell heard Qadar’s intercom voice cut into the string of curses coming from his guard.

  Hearing his master speak his name, the Klingon stopped swearing and looked up. “This is Chi’ra,” he answered. “What has happened, my lord?”

  “The Federation captain has found a way to cripple us from a distance,” Qadar told him, his tone full of undisguised bitterness. “But we will not sit here and let them beat us without a fight. We will make them sorry they ever tried to stop us.”

  The guard eyed his human captive. “Shall I start by destroying the one you sent me here to watch?”

  The M’tachtar raised his weapon to the level of Mitchell’s face. The navigator refused to flinch.

  “No,” Qadar responded. “Do not destroy him, [214] Chi’ra. Take him to the cargo bay he occupied earlier and let me know when you arrive. Then I will give you further instructions.”

  The guard nodded, still glaring at the human. “As you wish, my lord.” But he didn’t lower his weapon. “Move,” he spat, indicating the exit with a toss of his shaggy head.

  Mitchell did as he was told. But somehow, he didn’t feel all that grateful for having been spared—not when what awaited him would probably be worse than a quick phaser shot.

  Kirk stepped up onto the Klingon transporter pad and watched the rest of his team gather around him.

  “All right,” he said, rechecking the charge on his disrupter pistol. “Listen closely, everyone, because I doubt I’ll have an opportunity to repeat this.”

  It was no more than the truth. The captain had been granted little enough time as it was, and assembling a boarding party had taken several precious minutes of it.

  “Our mission,” he went on, “is to transport over to the Enterprise, locate the M’tachtar, isolate them and put them out of action as quickly as possible. If that means killing them, I can live with it—but it’s a last resort. Everyone got that?”

  “Check,” Alden told him.

  Spock nodded. “Acknowledged.”

  “Aye, sir,” replied Kyle.

  “I’m with you, sir,” said Kelso.

  That left only one member of the team. Phelana finished examining her handheld sensor device, then [215] looked up and regarded Kirk. “Ready to make the jump,” the Andorian responded with a grim smile.

  The others might not have perceived the layers of meaning in her answer, but the captain did. And perceiving them, he couldn’t help smiling back at her.

  Then he turned to the Klingon standing at the freestanding console at the opposite end of the room. “Energize,” he said.

  The transporter pad spawned spirals of green energy that gradually enveloped them in emerald brilliance. And before Kirk could draw another breath, he found himself in a dark but familiar place.

  Right where he and the others were supposed to wind up, the captain told himself. The eerie, emergency-lit sickbay of the Enterprise.

  After all, it was the last place one of the M’tachtar was likely to be found. Beings that hardy weren’t apt to injure themselves very often. And even if they did, their Klingon machismo wouldn’t have allowed them to make use of the facility.

  All that notwithstanding, Kirk didn’t even whisper until he and his people had checked the place out. Finally, satisfied that their arrival had gone undetected, he led the way out through the sliding doors.

  His handheld sensor told him that there wasn’t anyone in the corridor ahead of them. That meant they could proceed unimpeded to the nearest Jefferies tube, which was only a few dozen meters away.

  When they reached the duranium ladder, the captain climbed it until he could reach the tube’s hatch door and swing it open. Then he crawled inside and the others followed, with Kyle closing the hatch after them.

  [216] The tube was long and cramped, thanks to the conduits and flashing circuitry that covered its inner walls like an alien fungus. Normally, it would also have been loud with the sound of the engines, but now it was almost disturbingly quiet. Kirk made his way through it on elbows and knees, holding his disrupter in one hand and his Klingon sensor in the other.

  A turbolift would have been a lot more comfortable, he mused. But with the ship operating on emergency power, there would be relatively few lifts in service, and they didn’t want to take a chance on running into a M’tachtar before they were ready for him.

  It took several minutes for them to reach the appropriate deck. When they got there, the captain opened their exit hatch and peered out into the corridor. It was illuminated only by the soft, blue glow of emergency lighting, but it appeared to be clear in both directions.

  Slipping out of the tube, he grasped the ladder next to it and descended, then watched the rest of his team do the same. When they had all joined him, he led the way again.

  Kirk had selected the auxiliary control room as their first destination because it seemed likely that one of the M’tachtar would be there—especially during a shipwide malfunction. As it turned out, he had guessed right. At least, that was what his handheld sensor told him as he approached the room’s double set of red orange doors.

  The captain gestured for the others to gather around him and told Phelana what he wanted her to [217] do. Once he was sure she understood, he and the rest of the team withdrew to the cover of the nearest junction.

  As they watched, the Andorian concealed the disruptor and the handheld sensor device she had received from Kang’s Klingons. Then she came close enough to auxiliary control to encourage its doors to open.

  From where he stood, concealed by a bulkhead, Kirk didn’t have a very good angle on what was going on inside the control room. All he could see was Phelana standing at the threshold, looking around.

  Then he heard a deep-throated challenge from within and saw the Andorian whirl as if she had been taken by surprise. Pausing just long enough to make sure her adversary was in pursuit, she bolted down the corridor.

  Phelana had been exceptionally fleet of foot in her Academy days, which was why the captain had picked her for this chore, and it looked to him as if she hadn’t lost a step. But th
e M’tachtar was still faster.

  Fortunately, it wasn’t destined to be a long race. As the Andorian got closer, Kirk and the others raised their weapons. Then Phelana came tearing around the corner, glancing off the bulkhead in front of her in her haste. And half a heartbeat later, her pursuer shot into their sights.

  As the captain had planned, they caught the M’tachtar in a crossfire. Five blazing blue disruptor beams hit him at once, jerking him in one direction and then in another. Battered by the onslaught and given no respite, the Klingon collapsed in a heap.

  At a signal from Kirk, Alden took out a device [218] Kang had given them—a Klingon incapacitor designed to temporarily inhibit certain brain functions. According to Kang’s supply officer, the thing was best applied behind the right ear.

  But just as Alden bent to affix the incapacitor to the fallen M’tachtar, the warrior stirred and took a swipe at the man. Alden straightened in time to keep his head from being torn off, but was still sent flying willy-nilly into the bulkhead.

  The captain tried to take aim at the M’tachtar, but couldn’t. The warrior was moving too quickly in these painfully close quarters, consciously or unconsciously using Kirk’s comrades for cover.

  One would never have known that the M’tachtar had absorbed a half dozen disrupter blasts. He was still as strong as a rampaging bull and twice as fast. Kelso charged him to try to subdue him, but was hurled away with savage force. Then Kyle attempted the same thing, but with no more success.

  Kirk took his shot too, trying to tackle the M’tachtar around the middle and at least slow him down a little. But as soon as he latched on, his opponent drove him to the deck with a two-handed blow.

  Dazed by the impact, the captain tried to roll out of harm’s way—even as the M’tachtar drew back his heavily booted foot for a kick at Kirk’s ribs. But before the Klingon could land his blow, another gold and black figure came hurtling at him, slamming him into the bulkhead behind him.

  The captain looked up and saw that it was Spock.

  The first officer was grappling with the M’tachtar, fighting for leverage. Unfortunately, even his Vulcan [219] strength proved to be no match for the Klingon’s muscle.

  With an almost bestial cry of triumph, the M’tachtar flung Spock away. However, the first officer had given the others the opening they needed.

  As soon as Spock was clear, Kirk nailed the Klingon with a dark blue disrupter beam, pinning him to the wall at least for a moment. Then Kyle, Kelso and Phelana added their own barrage, and Alden joined in as well.

  The M’tachtar tried with all his strength to break free of the punishment they were inflicting on him, but it was no use. Even his prodigious strength was no match for a prolonged and concentrated dose of directed energy.

  His head lolled to the side and he went limp, apparently unconscious. But even then, the captain continued to fire his disrupter until he was certain of the outcome. Only then did he discontinue his beam and signal his officers to do the same.

  As soon as their disrupter blasts died, the M’tachtar fell to the deck. And though Kirk and the others waited patiently, he didn’t move again. The captain signaled to Alden, and this time the communications officer affixed the incapacitor without any trouble.

  Kirk kneaded his shoulder where the Klingon had clocked him and breathed a heartfelt sigh of relief. One down and fourteen to go, he told himself. But they had taken too long to bring down a single target. If they expended this much time with all the M’tachtar, Kang would destroy the Enterprise before they were halfway done.

  [220] The captain looked at the others. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go.”

  Mitchell felt himself shoved into the cargo bay, joining Scotty and Sulu and the others. They looked relieved to see him again.

  “Are ye all right, lad?” asked Scotty.

  “What about Corbet and Swift?” asked Sulu.

  The navigator frowned and shook his head. “Don’t ask,” he said.

  The M’tachtar who had brought Mitchell back to the cargo bay didn’t bother to reactivate the force-field. He just tapped an intercom grid set into the wall. “This is Chi’ra,” he said. “I have arrived at the cargo bay, my lord.”

  “Good,” said Qadar, his voice malevolent even when watered down by the intercom. “Is our friend Mitchell listening?”

  The guard glanced at him. “He is, lord.”

  “Excellent. Now tell him we need to reverse what has happened to the Enterprise—and that if he refuses to tell us how, you will kill one of his comrades every thirty seconds.”

  “No!” cried the navigator, taking an involuntary step toward Chi’ra.

  He heard savage laughter over the intercom. “Perhaps I was wrong, human,” said Qadar. “It seems you are not quite a Klingon after all.”

  Mitchell’s heart was pumping with fear—but for the others, not for himself. “Listen to me, Qadar. I don’t know what’s happened to this ship or how to deal with it. You’ve got to believe that.”

  It was another lie, of course. He had his suspicions [221] about what was going on, but he wasn’t about to share them with the M’tachtar.

  Unfortunately, Qadar wasn’t buying what the navigator was selling. He didn’t even bother to answer Mitchell’s protest. All he said was “Follow my orders, Chi’ra.”

  The guard’s mouth twisted into a cruel grin. “Gladly, lord.”

  “Let me know when you have achieved some results,” said the leader of the M’tachtar. “Qadar out.”

  The one called Chi’ra eyed Mitchell. Then he planted his hand against the human’s chest and sent him flying backward past his comrades. Before Mitchell could do anything to help himself, he felt something hard and unyielding slam into the back of his skull.

  The bulkhead, he thought dully, finding himself slumped at the base of it. Spitting blood, the back of his head throbbing with pain, he tried to get to his feet.

  “Leave him alone,” said Sulu, moving toward his friend as if to defend him from the M’tachtar.

  “No,” the navigator groaned. “I’m all right.”

  Come on, he told himself, using the bulkhead for support. Don’t let this sorry excuse for a sentient see you squirm. Show him you can take whatever he dishes out.

  But despite his warning, Mitchell found Sulu kneeling at his side, trying to help him up. “Come on,” said the helmsman. “I’ve got you.”

  Suddenly, the navigator saw the point of the Klingon’s phaser appear in front of Sulu’s face. Mitchell looked up into the guard’s eyes, which had widened with fury in the shadow of his brow ridge.

  “You heard the master,” he snarled, glaring at the [222] helmsman but addressing the navigator. “You have ten seconds to tell me what to do ... or you will watch this one die in agony.”

  Mitchell swallowed. He didn’t doubt the Klingon meant it—or that he would stop with Sulu. But at the same time, he didn’t want to undo whatever his friend Jim was trying to accomplish.

  Just as he thought that, he saw something out of the corner of his eye—a movement in the vicinity of the entrance to the cargo bay. However, he didn’t turn his head to get a better look at it. If it was what he suspected it was, what he hoped it was, he didn’t dare to do anything but continue staring at the M’tachtar looming over him.

  “Ten,” said their bony-headed tormentor, his voice growing thick with anger. “Nine. Eight ...”

  The navigator’s teeth ground together. Whatever you’re doing, he told the captain silently, do it quickly. Otherwise, I’m a goner—because I’m not going to let this bastard blow Sulu away.

  “Seven,” the M’tachtar hissed, his lips pulling back to reveal long, sharp canines, his eyes bulging with bloodthirsty anticipation. “Five,” he spat. “Four. Three ...”

  Mitchell tensed, the fingers of his right hand coiling into a fist. Hurry, Jim, he urged in the privacy of his mind. For godsakes ...

  “Three,” said the guard. “Two ...”

  The navigator pulled his
hand back, ready to drive it forward into his enemy’s chin. But before he could do that, he saw a dark blue beam skewer the Klingon between the shoulder blades.

  Crying out in pain, the M’tachtar clutched at his [223] back and staggered away from Mitchell and his comrades, but he didn’t fall. Instead, he looked around frantically for the source of the attack.

  That’s when a second beam smashed into his ribs, doubling him over sideways and forcing him to drop his weapon. Still, he remained on his feet somehow. It took a third assault and a fourth to finally topple the guard and send him crashing to the deck.

  But even then, the disrupter barrage didn’t stop. The beams smashed into the M’tachtar’s inert body, buffeting him for another several seconds before they finally relented.

  As the navigator scrambled to secure the Klingon’s weapon, he saw someone come out into view. It was his pal Jim, looking more deadly serious than he had looked in years.

  The captain regarded the body of the unconscious Klingon warily, then signaled to someone out in the corridor. A moment later, Spock appeared too. Then he was joined by Phelana, Kyle, Alden and Kelso.

  “Cutting it a little close?” the navigator asked, posing a question that his friend had posed often enough to him back at the Academy.

  Kirk brushed the sweat from his face with his sleeve and smiled wearily. “I prefer to think of it as split-second timing,” he replied, using Mitchell’s stock answer to the question.

  “Corbet and Swift are dead,” the navigator reported.

  The captain winced. But he said, “They’re probably not the only ones.”

  “Have any of the rest of you been injured?” Spock inquired of Mitchell and his fellow captives.

  [224] Sulu grunted. “We’ve all been injured, Commander. But we’re not in need of any immediate attention.”

  “Good,” said Kirk. “Because we’re going to need your help.” Without any further preamble, he brought Mitchell and the others up to speed.

  “Then you’re on a deadline,” the navigator concluded. “If you don’t work quickly, Kang will blow up the Enterprise.”