Star Trek Prometheus -Fire with Fire

by Christian Humberg

  Thokal shook his head. “I was only away for a few days…” he mumbled. Sighing deeply, he began his task.

  20

  NOVEMBER 10, 2385

  Cestus System

  The Sphere is everything.

  Mossam ak Foral’s dark red hands flew all over the helm controls, adjusting his course here, confirming the course corrections there.

  He didn’t find it difficult to believe this core statement of his culture. Here, far from home and surrounded by strange stars, he understood it better than ever. And this understanding increased his motivation even more.

  “Remaining flight time?” an agitated and impatient voice came from the communications system and seemed to fill ak Foral’s small cockpit. “We’re here, aren’t we? So, where’s the target?”

  He did not object to his companion’s tone, for he shared his passion. He called up the flight status on his console monitor immediately. “Soon,” whispered ak Foral when he saw it. The flames within him flared higher than ever. “On the other side of the planet.” After this short statement, he resumed the agreed radio silence.

  Cestus III was an ocher-colored globe in a black void. The Class-M planet was on the periphery of Federation territory, close to the border of the Gorn Hegemony. The last President of the Federation, Nanietta Bacco, had been born here, and had served as the world’s planetary governor for many years before becoming president. He had been told during their briefing that the most popular sport there was baseball… whatever that was supposed to be.

  Yet all of that was of no interest to ak Foral. It was not that Cestus III was important, but what was located behind it. The closer he drew, the more he was convinced that he was in the right place. Finally, he could do what he had been born for and fulfill his destiny. He looked at the ship’s displays and sensed the other object in the cockpit. This object was a square, three-piece container taking up the entire co-pilot’s seat in the two-seater spacecraft. This gave ak Foral’s mission, and that of his companion in the second attack fighter, which also had a “present” installed, their meaning.

  The Sphere is everything, he thought again, sensing the blood in his veins, and the beating of his heart. Was that elation? The Sphere is everything.

  Ak Foral turned his head so he could look out of the cockpit’s broad, concave porthole. The second attack fighter was only a few dozen meters away from him but as invisible as ak Foral’s own slender spacecraft. Even the target’s sensors wouldn’t detect them. The target would never spot them until it was too late.

  Both attack fighters darted through space toward the planet, before circling it. Ak Foral knew that the long journey would come to an end soon, and new determination rose within him. Again, he looked at the displays of his weapon systems. Everything seemed perfect, and everything had been fully charged.

  Satisfied, he looked up—and for a brief moment he caught his breath. He had previously seen the target location on holorecordings, but they were no comparison to what was before his eyes now. And of course they hadn’t conveyed the emotion that washed over ak Foral as he approached.

  We’re here. This realization was bigger than anything he had ever felt. It filled him completely, and made his inner flames rise. Finally.

  The fleet base in high orbit around Cestus III was a metallic gray kraken in the night of space. It was the central haven for all Starfleet spaceships doing their patrol duty at the borders to the Gorn Hegemony. Tired crews could rest here, and countless engineers worked tirelessly to repair docked ships. The Unified Federation of Planets had built this complex three years ago at no expense spared. For ak Foral one thing was clear: this base was a stepping stone for further advancement into space, so they could cross even more sphere borders. It was a tool of doom.

  Ak Foral looked at his readings. Currently, not all docking berths were taken. He only saw six ships at the station’s docking arms. Its elongated centerpiece housed the base’s administration, as well as recreational facilities and crew quarters.

  He took his hands off the console. For a brief moment he closed his eyes, drew a deep breath and basked in the emotions of the moment. Ak Foral listened to his inner flame, enjoyed its blaze, and also enjoyed the certainty.

  Finally. Finally, everything made sense.

  When he opened his eyes again, he saw the weapons display. Silent alarm signals had started to blink. The left disruptor bank was close to overloading; ak Foral sighed with elation when he increased the values with a push of a button. Then he turned back to the helm. The small Scorpion-class vessel was exactly on course, heading toward the center of the spacedock. The Federation station grew steadily in the viewscreen as he approached.

  Above the course readings, the countdown sprang to life as it had been programmed to begin at this distance. Ak Foral watched the displays and knew that his partner in the second ship saw them as well.

  Ten, nine, eight…

  “Align right disruptor bank,” he told the board computer just as the alarm signals on the left one turned dark red. “Zero in on foremost docking arm.”

  The console confirmed the order.

  Four.

  Ak Foral looked through the viewscreen at the huge repair station that steadily grew.

  Three.

  He reached behind his seat, touching the object on the second seat. The meaning of his life. His blessing.

  Two.

  He closed his eyes, thinking about home… about glowing sphere buildings below the three moons of Onferin. About the vastness of the desert and the salt of the large ocean. About the flapping wings of Kranaals. Gratitude washed over him, a never before felt sense of humility because he could serve his home. What the elders had said was true: The Sphere was everything.

  One.

  “Fire,” whispered Mossam ak Foral blissfully, and the black, cold night turned into a burning day.

  21

  NOVEMBER 11, 2385

  Federation Council, Paris, Earth

  “When will you finally be prepared to admit that we’re at war?”

  The Klingon Ambassador to the Federation, K’mtok, was a giant of a man. With his broad shoulders and his formal robe that he wore over his military armor he was quite an impressive view. He was pacing up and down in front of the Federation Council. He clenched his gloved right hand to a fist, menacingly shaking it toward a screen that was embedded into the wall behind him. They had just watched the latest video of the Purifying Flame, claiming responsibility for the destruction of the base in orbit of Cestus III.

  K’mtok had been the first to raise his voice after they had watched the transmission. Most of the other council members were still far too shocked about the news that the terrorists had struck again after such a short time. But Kellessar zh’Tarash, who was presiding over this special session, stood behind the lectern at the front side of the room, knowing that this calm wouldn’t last long. Once the assembled dignitaries had overcome their horror, their fury would be rekindled. The president didn’t want to contemplate the consequences. I haven’t even been in office for two weeks, she thought angrily. And already more Federation citizens have perished than during the entire term of office of most of my predecessors.

  “The Renao’s actions exceed an act of simple terror,” K’mtok continued with his harsh voice. He bared his well-visible fangs, glaring around. “A starbase, a mining colony, and now the Cestus III station. Thousands of dead, and nine of your starships. How long will you sit by and watch death and destruction before you finally do something?”

  The question wasn’t entirely unreasonable, even if the president didn’t like the fact that K’mtok was the one asking it. The first incident had been a terrible isolated case. The second one had given her antennae the creeps. But the third one demonstrated clearly that this was more than just a spontaneous act of violence from this so-called Purifying Flame. The way things looked, these fanatics wouldn’t just go away. They seemed to be serious about attacking all power blocs in the Alpha Quadrant.
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  “If the Romulans or the Gorn were behind these attacks,” K’mtok snarled, “the Federation would have had long since deployed their forces. And they would be right to do so, because atrocities of this scale amount to nothing less than a declaration of war. But when it comes to the Renao, they’re acting like confused chuSwI’ that can’t find their way to their subterranean burrows. What’s the matter? Are you scared to do what must be done?”

  “And what, do you think, must be done?” asked council member Cort Enaren from Betazed.

  “It’s about time you deployed ships to the Lembatta Cluster!” shouted K’mtok. “And I don’t mean just the Prometheus. Deploy an entire fleet—and put those Renao in their place! Declare a blockade against these Renao Home Spheres. Eliminate their military. Occupy their planet. By Kahless, prevent them from executing a fourth attack that might be even worse than everything we’ve seen so far!” The Klingon ambassador turned to Admiral Akaar, threateningly stabbing in his direction with his index finger. “If you won’t do it, we will.”

  “Ambassador K’mtok!” Zh’Tarash straightened behind her lectern. “Less of your threatening gestures.” Her antennae bent forward belligerently. “The Lembatta Cluster may be an independent region in space but it’s still located within Federation borders. We will not allow a Klingon invasion force to cross into our space in order to wage a war against a nation that hasn’t even been proven guilty yet.”

  “And how long will it take for this evidence to become available?” the Klingon argued heatedly. “How many of my and your people need to die, before you’re convinced that the Renao are guilty? The High Council demands action from the Federation! Preferably right now, before more Klingon worlds go up in flames!”

  “The crews of the Prometheus and the Bortas are doing everything in their power to shed light on the reasons behind these attacks, and to hunt down and arrest the culprits,” said the president. “We are expecting a detailed report soon.”

  “That’s not enough,” seethed K’mtok. “You can collect evidence and question witnesses when there’s been one murder. Being faced with thousands of murders demands military action, a sign of strength. The Renao need to know that crimes against the Federation and the Klingon Empire will be punished with an iron fist. To quote an ancient Earth idiom, you must fight fire with fire!”

  “There’s another aphorism, as well,” mumbled Admiral Markus Rohde, sitting near zh’Tarash in the first row. “Fighting fire with fire will leave nothing but ashes.”

  The Klingon ambassador ignored him.

  Altoun Djinian, the human council member from Cestus III, spoke up. “With all due respect, Zha President, I have to agree with the ambassador. The destruction of our base was a devastating tragedy. According to the latest information, almost twenty thousand people were killed in the attack—not just station personnel, but also civilians on the planet, hit by debris. The U.S.S. Solaris crashed into a resort. Fortunately, it was the off season, but the location has been completely annihilated and seven hundred people died. That must not happen again under any circumstances!”

  “Not to mention the fact that our security situation in that region doesn’t improve at all,” the porcine-faced delegate Kyll of Tellar grumbled. “So far, we lost nine patrol ships in the vicinity of the Gorn. The Federation’s outer flank has been exposed.”

  Zh’Tarash quizzically looked at Starfleet’s commander. “Admiral Akaar, how quickly can you deploy ships to the borders of the Lembatta Cluster? Although I don’t even want to contemplate the invasion of any planets, it’s essential that this part of space is closely monitored.”

  The tall Capellan rose from his chair near the lectern. “Zha President, I’m mustering as many ships as I can possibly afford to. As you know our resources are precariously limited. The U.S.S. Bougainville and Iron Horse are the ships closest to that region. The Bougainville has already been recalled from its cartography mission, and has been diverted to Cestus III. The Iron Horse will patrol around the Cluster. Additionally, I have ordered the U.S.S. Capitoline to head over there as assistance for the Iron Horse. Any other ships will take at least five or six days to get there.”

  K’mtok looked at Akaar with a suggestive grin. “If you need assistance, the High Council has deployed six ships to Korinar. They will arrive in three days.”

  “For now, we’d like your forces to remain on standby at the border, Ambassador,” Akaar said. “We’ll inform you if we need the assistance of the Klingon Defense Force.”

  “Be wary, Admiral,” the ambassador said. “If anything else happens, if these extremists attack just one more Klingon world, we will hold the Federation personally responsible for not carrying out their security duties. And then, you should let us take matters into our own hands, or the Renao will be the least of the Federation’s problems. That, I promise.”

  K’mtok’s words had the desired effect. There was uproar in the Federation Council’s assembly hall. Each council member voiced their opinions how to react to this crisis in general and the Klingon’s threatening behavior in particular. Kellessar zh’Tarash sighed inwardly. Her antennae lowered slightly.

  Some days she wished she hadn’t gone into politics at all.

  Lembatta Prime

  “Leave the talking to me from now on.” While Ambassador Rozhenko said those words to Captain Kromm under his breath, Adams had excellent hearing, and Spock, who walked by his side, had the legendary ears of a Vulcan. Both men exchanged a quick glance behind the Klingons’ backs, and Adams noticed the smallest hint of an amused glint in his companion’s eyes.

  As a cadet I never thought it possible that Vulcans might have a sense of humor, he mused. But in time you learn that nothing is set in stone within the universe. Even a species that is renowned for not having emotions and for following logic consists of individuals. And each one of them needs to find their own balance of reason and emotion.

  Spock apparently leaned toward a philosophy of balance in his advanced age—rationality that didn’t completely ignore the heart. The young Klingon captain on the other hand let his emotions run away with him, that much Adams had already determined. Kromm was a man harboring a lot of rage and a thirst for action. Why, Adams didn’t know. He assumed that this was due to misplaced pride. Klingons had the tendency to overrate their personal pride, which rarely ended well for them, or their environment.

  All things considered, Adams wasn’t surprised that the more moderate Rozhenko reprimanded Kromm, while they all followed a lackey through the Renao embassy’s corridors. He was taking them to Himad ak Genos. Upon their arrival, Kromm had snubbed their welcoming committee harshly. The diplomat was obviously concerned that the conflict might escalate if they gave Kromm free rein.

  The Klingon captain’s answer consisted of a reluctant growl. “Just tell these red-skins that this is not a courtesy call. If they don’t acquiesce, the Bortas will teach them some humility.”

  “I’m sure that won’t be necessary,” the son of Worf replied quietly and impatiently.

  Behind the four men, Lenissa zh’Thiin and the gray-haired Klingon security chief Rooth followed. They were both escorts and advisors. Adams had already noticed that the veteran Rooth was much calmer than his captain. He seemed almost relaxed while he surveyed his environment.

  Zh’Thiin, on the other hand, was like a coiled spring. The neatly curved antennae on her head swung back and forth. They seemed to be sweeping their environment for possible dangers.

  Ambassador ak Genos was expecting them in his conference room just like last time. His deputy Seresh ak Momad was also present. After a brief welcome, which consisted of a grim growl in Kromm’s case, Spock and Rozhenko came straight to the point.

  “The attack on Starbase 91 was extremely well prepared,” said Spock. “The aggressors had a cloaked spacecraft at their disposal and access to dangerous substances. This was not a spontaneous act of angry young men and women. Behind this attack is a dangerously well-organized movement that plans far
in advance. We need to find this movement and prevent further attacks. To that end, we require your assistance.”

  “I already told you during our last meeting that you are looking in the wrong place. The Renao nation has nothing to do with this act of terrorism.”

  “Acts of terrorism,” Kromm growled quietly. “Let’s not forget Tika IV.”

  “Correct,” Spock conceded. “The so-called Purifying Flame has claimed responsibility for two attacks already. Apparently, this group’s members are Renao. We are aware of the fact that the entire Renao nation is not guilty of these crimes. However, the current evidence suggests that an underground movement exists in your Home Spheres that you are probably unaware of.”

  “That’s impossible,” said ak Genos. “And even if that was true, they wouldn’t have access to ships with cloaking devices. Such a technology is unknown in our world—and we haven’t had any commercial relations with outworlders for decades.”

  “Forgive me for saying this, but you can’t know that for certain,” Rozhenko said. “Your word alone that your Home Spheres don’t pose an immediate danger to the galactic peace is not sufficient. We require assurance.”

  The Klingons’ presence seemed to unsettle ak Genos. That didn’t surprise Adams, all things considered. Even the calm Rooth had an undertone of threat. They were doing the old Earth game of “good cop, bad cop,” and the Renao ambassador obviously had no idea how far the “bad cops” were prepared to go.

  “What do you want from me?” ak Genos asked.

  “We want you to clear the Prometheus and the Bortas to enter your Home Spheres.” Adams, being the senior officer of this operation, took over. “We require freedom of movement for the away teams who need to land on planets within the cluster in order to investigate. We will gladly cooperate with the administrative and security forces on your worlds but we will object to any kind of obstruction as far as our work is concerned.”