Star Trek - [Mirror Universe 003]

by Shards

  This is it. Stone could feel it in her gut. Her muscles tensing in anticipation, she closed her eyes, counting down the seconds until the end came.

  "Brace for impact!"

  April watched all four of the Klingon torpedoes rip through the remnants of Indomitable's shields, enveloping the starship's bridge and a significant portion of her primary hull in a hellish maelstrom.

  Pointing toward the viewscreen, he shouted, "Target that ship, full spread!" In response to his orders, a fresh barrage of photon torpedoes chased after the Klingon vessel that had just dealt Indomitable its deathblow. Energies collided as the strikes slammed against the enemy ship's shields, but one torpedo managed to make its way to the cruiser's hull. April nodded in satisfaction as the weapon pierced the heavy metal plating and detonated, the new explosion flinging debris into the void as the ship lumbered away from the new attack.

  "Report!" he ordered, gripping the arms of his command chair and unable to tear his eyes from the scene of the wounded Indomitable on the screen.

  "Indomitable's lost all main power," Simon replied. "Impulse engines are still online, but primary power distribution circuits are fused. The bridge and the majority of decks three through six are gone. I'm also picking up fluctuations in the antimatter-containment system."

  "What about auxiliary control?" April asked. "Was that damaged?"

  Simon shook her head. "Deck eight looks to have been spared the brunt of the attack, but I'm not picking up any attempts to route power there. Engineering probably has their hands full right now."

  Damn it!

  Indomitable was crippled, April knew, probably dead in space, unless its engineering crew could craft a miracle and somehow gain control of the wounded starship via its auxiliary command center. As for Constellation, it, too, had sustained significant damage, though both vessels had to this point held their own during the brief yet vicious battle. Indomitable's timely arrival had helped turn the tide of what he at first had considered a small yet distinct mismatch.

  Irrelevant, he reminded himself. The only thing anyone would remember was that someone had won and someone had lost. April had no intention of being the latter.

  "Commodore," said Lieutenant Copowycz from behind him, and he turned to see the communications officer regarding him with concern and even fear in her eyes. "I'm picking up multiple distress calls from Indomitable, including one from her chief engineer."

  "Put her on audio," April ordered, and seconds later, the bridge's intercom system blared to life with a burst of static that faded, allowing the garbled words of the wounded starship's chief engineer to be heard.

  "...der Collins. Constellation, if you can hear this, we've lost all main energizers, and reserve power is already failing. We're losing antimatter containment, and I may have to jettison the warp nacelles. Captain and first officer are dead. We need to abandon ship!"

  "Commodore," Copowycz said, the expression on her face now one of worry, "I'm also picking up a distress call coming from the moon. They're signaling for any available ship to render assistance."

  "Reinforcements," April said, feeling his jaw clench as he parsed the new information. "How long?"

  Simon shrugged. "Sensors are clear, but based on what we know of Klingon patrol patterns, maybe half an hour. The other ships are pulling back. Assessing damage and waiting for the cavalry, I guess."

  Constellation's maneuvering had brought the moon into view once more, and April snarled as he searched the barren surface for signs of the outpost and top-secret research facility, which were all but invisible from this distance. Somewhere down there, the secret he sought lay in hiding, waiting for him to seize it for the greater glory of the Empire. It seemed so tantalizingly close, yet April knew that under the current circumstances, it might as well be half a galaxy away.

  "Even if they abandon ship," April said, "we won't be able to get them all before Indomitable's warp engines blow."

  "There's no time for an evacuation," said Sarah April from behind him. He turned to where she stood at the back of the bridge, in the turbolift alcove and next to his own personal guard, Lieutenant Pearson, and saw the determination in her eyes. "You can't help them now," she added, "and our priority is the weapon."

  April was nearly beside himself in the face of the outburst, and he noted that even Pearson appeared shocked by what he was hearing. His wife had remained out of the way as the battle unfolded, saying nothing. To hear her speak now, so openly questioning his decisions? If it were anyone else, he would have killed them where they stood.

  I understand my priorities. The statement burned in his mind even as he glared at his wife, hoping his expression conveyed the unspoken message.

  "What about a tractor beam?" Armstrong asked.

  "We'd be defenseless while towing them," April countered. Taking his eyes from Sarah, he looked to the viewscreen and its image of Indomitable, drifting in high orbit above the moon. Given sufficient time, the dying starship would likely fall from its trajectory until it hit the moon's surface.

  The Klingons aren't likely to wait around for that.

  Rising from his seat, April moved to the railing separating him from Simon. "Lorna, can you access their main computer?"

  Pausing to consider the question, Simon nodded. "If its external interface isn't damaged. I'll need its prefix code."

  "Computer," April said without hesitation, "release the command override codes for the I.S.S. Indomitable to Commander Simon. Voice authorization April, Six Four Zulu Delta." To Simon, he said, "Patch in, and give navigational and maneuvering control to our helm."

  "What are you doing?" Sarah asked. Her tone was hard, almost accusatory, but to her credit, she remained near the turbolift.

  Stepping away from the railing, April tapped the shoulder of the ensign seated at the navigator's station. "Let me have the console, son," he said. The ensign's eyes widened in fear; he no doubt wondered what he had done to incur the commodore's wrath. Seeing the younger man's expression, April shook his head. "Relax, Ensign. I just prefer to do this myself." It took a quick moment to reacquaint himself with the console's layout before he looked to Simon. "Ready?"

  The science officer nodded. "I've accessed their main computer and routed navigation to your station, Commodore."

  Still seated at the helm, Armstrong asked, "Orders, sir?"

  "Lay in an evasive course out of the star group at maximum warp, and stand by for my command," April replied. His fingers moved across the navigation console's rows of multicolored buttons, initiating the command string from his ship to Indomitable. It seemed to take forever for the wounded starship's taxed computer system to respond to his queries, during which he verified the coordinates he wanted. Seconds later, the indicators on which he was waiting finally flashed green.

  Leaning over her hooded viewer, Simon called out, "Indomitable is moving, Commodore. I'm picking up fluctuations in the impulse engines, but its orbital track is leveling off, and it's responding to course corrections."

  His attention focused on his console, April entered a new command. On the viewscreen, Indomitable accelerated, now oriented toward the moon.

  "Track is..." The words seemed to die in Simon's throat, and she looked up from her viewer, her gaze locking with April's. "It's on a direct course for the base."

  "You're destroying it?" Sarah asked. "You can't do that! Your orders were explicit!"

  "We can't leave here with the weapon," April replied, his voice quiet yet firm. "There's no time to locate and retrieve anything of use. We can't allow the Klingons to leave here with it, either. They'll just relocate to some other, more secure location. The only option is to make certain there's nothing for them to take." To emphasize his point, he jabbed another control on the console.

  On the viewscreen, Indomitable's trajectory arced until the starship was aimed downward, its speed increasing as it responded to the commands April had given it.

  "Commodore," said Copowycz, "we're getting new distress calls."
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  "No response, Lieutenant," April replied, his mouth pressed into a thin line. He tried not to think of the hundreds of lives aboard that ship, which he was sacrificing with this bold, unilateral decision. On numerous occasions, he had ordered subordinates to their deaths or had caused such deaths by his own hand, but never before on this scale. He now told himself this action was necessary, not only to stop the Klingons' immediate threat but also to secure the long-term security of the Empire. He wanted to believe that everyone aboard Indomitable would understand and agree with his decision, confident that their sacrifice was a worthy one.

  Not that it matters, really.

  He watched the wounded starship's course pull it ever closer to the moon. Gravity, inertia, and whatever power remained in the vessel's flagging impulse engines had sealed its fate. No one on the bridge said anything as Indomitable dove for the surface, the viewscreen updating its imagery to compensate for the gap growing between the two starships. Structures and other components of the Klingon base now were visible, and April saw the telltale flashes of land-based defensive systems coming online, tracking and firing after what essentially had become an incoming missile.

  "Impact in five seconds," Simon reported. "Three. Two. One."

  A new sun appeared on the surface of the moon as Indomitable plowed into the base at full impulse power, its antimatter-containment system rupturing at the point of impact. The resulting colossal detonation swallowed the starship in the first instant, taking with it the base and a significant portion of the valley in which it had resided. April and everyone else on the bridge flung up their hands to shield their eyes, the viewscreen lagging as it fought to compensate for the sudden, intense brightness change. Within seconds, the flash had faded, leaving behind a rapidly expanding cloud of ash, soil, and debris hundreds of kilometers across.

  "Dear God," April heard Simon say, her voice low and choked.

  Rising from the navigator's station, he turned away from the image of the moon and the dreadful secrets it once had harbored. He caught sight of his wife, still standing at the rear of the bridge, and he was certain he saw incredulity and even shock burning in her eyes. She said nothing, instead turning on her heel and marching into the turbolift. The doors closed behind her, leaving Lieutenant Pearson to regard April with an expression bordering on relief.

  "Set a course for the nearest starbase," April said as he returned to the command chair. "Engage at maximum warp."

  "No sign of Klingon pursuit," Simon reported. "Looks like we're clear."

  April nodded, taking some measure of comfort in knowing that his ship still possessed superior propulsion systems, one of the few advantages the imperial Starfleet still held over most of its enemies.

  There's no one to follow us where we're going, but what waits for me once we get there?

  Despite failing to acquire the weapon the Klingons had labored to create, April also had denied them their opportunity to use it against the Empire. He knew his actions to be tactically sound, but would the Admiralty, or even Empress Sato herself, view such facts in a similar light? Or would their lust for power blind them to all but the immediate consequences of what he had done?

  Such answers would not be long in coming. Of that, April was certain.

  His eyes gritty with fatigue, the knot in his lower back nagging him for sitting in one place too long, April studied the mission report displayed on his desktop viewer. It read well enough, he decided, but would it convince his superiors?

  In a rare breach of protocol, April had sought Lorna Simon's counsel, despite her not holding the required security clearance for reading any reports sent to the Admiralty or Empress Sato. Still, she possessed the objectivity he needed in order to craft a report that would stand up to the scrutiny for which this one was destined. With her assistance, he had honed his argument to one he hoped would justify the destruction of the Klingon facility along with the loss of Indomitable and her crew, as well as every detail relating to the Penemu weapon. Still, one question lingered.

  Had Thorpe written such a report, would I have seen through it?

  He heard the door to his quarters open. He smiled without looking up, immediately recognizing the scent of his wife's preferred perfume. "I'm almost done," he said, straightening in his chair. "Want to read it?"

  Sarah's hand touched his neck, her nails gently raking the exposed skin, and he felt her chin rest on his shoulder. "Eventually." There was no mistaking the intent behind the single word. Her other hand moved to caress his chest, beneath the fold of his tunic. Smiling again, he reached up to place his hand over hers.

  Then he felt cool metal against the back of his neck, an instant before every nerve ending in his body exploded.

  Each heartbeat and breath was agony. His muscles jerked, beyond his conscious control, and April crumpled out of his seat to the deck. It took several tortured seconds before he could even attempt to regain control of his breathing, his body still protesting the memory of the onslaught it had endured. Even sitting up proved impossible, and it took all of his energy simply to refocus his attention enough to see Sarah towering over him, her phaser aimed at his chest.

  "I've finished a report as well," she said, returning the agonizer to her belt and extracting a green data card from the top of her left boot. "I think my perspective on your recent decisions will prove most interesting to Her Majesty."

  "Your...perspective," April repeated, each word a knife in his lungs as he felt motor control returning to his body.

  Smiling, she moved to sit in his chair, keeping her phaser trained on him. "You may be able to justify your actions to a room of doddering old admirals light-years away from here, and convincing the Empress is certainly no great triumph. But to someone who's stood by your side for as long as I have, you might appear weak, maybe softening in your advancing age, but still capable of undermining the advancement of the Empire."

  Despite the lingering pain, April almost laughed at his wife's unleashed ambition, one of the qualities that had drawn him to her all those years ago. Of course, he could not ignore the irony, in that his own conflicted conscience had enabled her to take such bold action. The question now was: What would Sarah April do with the opportunity she had seized?

  These ill winds, they bode no good. The errant thought-a quote from something he had read long ago-mocked him as he fought to regain control of his body.

  "What do you want?" he asked, forcing the words past his lips.

  "To re-create the Penemu weapon, of course," Sarah replied. "You upset my original plans for that, but I can afford to be patient. Between Donatu and Strelluf, we gathered enough basic information to start over. It'll take time, but it will give me plenty of opportunities for research, particularly when we're ready to test the weapon's effects on living beings. Lorna Simon would make an excellent specimen, don't you think?"

  April's eyes widened at the name of his closest friend. "I'll kill you first." Even as he spoke the words, the fingers of his right hand twitched, already seeking the comforting grip of his phaser yet knowing he would never reach the weapon.

  "Doubtful," Sarah said, holding up the data card. "A copy of this is in trusted hands. They'll stop at nothing to avenge my death, and don't think you'll suffer alone, my dear. Family, friends...even trusted confidants." Leaning closer, she added, "She'll beg for death."

  His body still aching, April felt his throat constrict as he envisioned Sarah moving her final game pieces into position. Closing his eyes, he gritted his teeth and tried to sit up, but a gesture from her phaser hand was enough to stop him.

  "Of course," she said, "none of that has to happen. Pledge loyalty to me, and you can keep your reputation and your life relatively intact. Cross me, and anyone who's ever called you friend or lover will suffer for your treachery."

  "Why not just kill me?" he asked, still struggling for breath. "Assassinations have been carried out for less. Get rid of me, and earn yourself a commendation for being a loyal officer at the same time. E
mpress Sato would be proud."