B’Oraq ran over to Klag, running a scanner over him. “You’ll be fine,” she said after a moment. “Just the usual bruises.”
“How encouraging,” Klag muttered. Then louder, but still with a noticeable dearth of enthusiasm, he said, “We will begin again.”
“Captain—”
Before B’Oraq could continue, however, the intercom sounded. “Kornan to Klag.”
“Klag.”
“Sir, we have completed our scan of the binary system. We may have found a planet worthy of our attention.”
The captain was on his feet like a shot. Now the fire was in his eyes. “I’ll be on the bridge momentarily.”
Without a backward glance, he left the holodeck.
To her surprise, Morr stayed behind. “Doctor—” He hesitated.
“What is it, Bekk?”
“Klag is my captain. My task is to protect him, but I cannot—” Again, he hesitated.
B’Oraq sighed. “Speak freely, Bekk.”
“He should not be leading with his right arm. Its reach is shorter now than it was before Marcan V, and it leaves him vulnerable.”
“You could tell him this.”
Morr shot her a look that indicated he thought she was insane. “You could, perhaps, but not I. He is my captain. I must go to his side now, but—” A third hesitation. “He has not gotten better, Doctor. In fact, I believe he is getting worse.”
With that, the captain’s bodyguard left the holodeck.
Interesting that he was willing to risk Klag’s wrath by not accompanying him immediately to the bridge, but not willing to risk the same by criticizing him.
Of course, the two were not equivalent. The former might draw some ire from Klag, and might not; the latter, however, could easily mean Morr’s death. Somehow, B’Oraq doubted that Klag was so foolish, but she could see why Morr would not take the chance. The doctor was in a unique position. She had been able to bully Klag into getting the new arm in the first place, and he had come to trust her judgment over the past few months. A lowly, easily replaceable bekk had no such assurances.
But sooner or later, Klag was going to have to face the hard reality that his skills with the bat’leth would never be what they once were.
Given that regaining his full warrior’s skills was his primary motivation for replacing his right arm in the first place, B’Oraq had the feeling that Klag would not face that reality with much grace.
Sighing, she exited the holodeck, shutting it down, hoping that whatever they found on the bridge was truly a new world for them to conquer. Klag needs something to cheer him up….
CHAPTER SIX
As soon as the turbolift door rumbled open to allow Klag access to the bridge, he said, “Report.”
Kornan, who had been seated at the first officer’s position, rose. “Lieutenant Toq has discovered a sixth planet in the binary system.”
Klag approached the command chair, but stopped short of it, turning his gaze on his second officer. “The long-range scan indicated a five-planet system.”
“Yes, sir, it did,” Toq said. “However, there was one reading that seemed—odd. I recalibrated the sensors, and discovered that there was a sixth planet. Actually, sir, it’s the fourth planet from the sun. For some reason, the area around the world contains some kind of subspace anomaly that interferes with sensors. Preliminary indications are that the planet’s air is breathable. But I cannot be completely sure without a closer look, sir.”
Smiling, Klag moved to his command chair. “Give the order, Commander Kornan,” he said as he sat.
Kornan also smiled. “Yes, sir. Pilot, set course 111 mark 19.”
“Course long since laid in, Commander.” Leskit, too, was smiling.
It’s odd, Klag thought, when Leskit first reported aboard for the shakedown I was concerned about his manner. Now I find that I missed it while he wasn’t here. It is good to have him back.
“Execute at warp six.”
Klag almost questioned Kornan’s ordered speed, then recalled their distance from the star system. To go any faster than that would be to overshoot their destination in less than a second.
As the Gorkon went into warp, the turbolift door opened to Morr, who took up his position at the captain’s office door. Klag admonished himself for not even noticing that Morr was tardy, so eager was he to get to the bridge to learn the details about this world. No doubt, B’Oraq kept him behind to question him about my bat’leth skills.
Rodek then spoke. “Sir, I recommend we engage the cloaking device.”
Kornan turned to face the tactical officer. “Why?”
“The planet was hidden. It may be so for a reason.”
Then Kornan turned to Klag. The captain considered the gunner’s words, and knew that they were sensible ones. He gave Kornan a nod.
“Engage cloak,” the first officer said, and the bridge lights dimmed a moment later.
“Now entering star system,” Leskit said.
“Go to impulse power and take up position five hundred thousand qelIqam s from the planet.”
“As the commander commands,” Leskit drawled, operating his console.
Toq’s voice then sounded from the operations console behind Klag. “Sir, there is a possible problem. In order to get accurate readings from the planet, I need to do an intensive scan. Such a scan might give away our position—even while we are cloaked.”
Nodding, Klag added, “Which would defeat the entire purpose of being cloaked.” He thought a moment, then turned to the pilot. “Lieutenant, enter random course changes. Move us around in as patternless a manner as possible. Coordinate your movements with Toq so he can still make his scans.”
“Sir,” Kornan said, “the scan will take longer, in that case.”
Klag stood up; he also turned to face his first officer, handily covering his inevitable move to the right as he did so. “We’ve waited nine weeks, Commander. I believe a delay of another hour or two will not be fatal.” He strode toward his office. “Keep me apprised of your progress.”
He hoped for a race of worthy foes, one that had hidden their planet behind these subspace anomalies to protect some great secret, one that he could find and exploit for the Empire.
Perhaps even a foe I can defeat by hand. He had been pleased with his progress in the bat’leth drills. With each session he felt more confident. He desperately wanted to test his mettle against a real foe, not a hologram or a warrior who was sworn to protect him. Morr had taken it easy on him—it was inevitable. Klag was, after all, the captain, and even if he ordered Morr to go full-out, he doubted that so loyal a warrior as Morr had proven to be would be able to do so.
No, I need an enemy. A true enemy.
He entered his office. Gazing over the mass of padds on his desk, he decided to finally read the detailed report on his brother’s discovery and planned conquering of Brenlek. For the first time since Kornan had brought him the report, he felt he could read it without retching.
Kornan sat at his position, watching the viewscreen as it showed a stable starfield, which then shifted as the Gorkon changed position.
From the science station to Kornan’s left—just behind Leskit—Toq said, “Commander, I have a preliminary report.”
Getting up from his chair, Kornan walked over to the console. Several displays showed various bits of sensor data. Kornan found that he could comprehend only about half of it. It related to subspace, that much was certain, but…
“What am I looking at, Lieutenant?”
“I am still not sure, sir, but I am fairly certain that this is not a natural phenomenon. It seems as if some force has thinned the boundaries between subspace and normal space.”
“Kurak to bridge.”
“Kornan.”
“Commander, how much longer is this foolishness going to continue? We’re lumbering around space like a drunken lout, our sensor capacity is at maximum, and we’re cloaked. These systems were not designed to work simultaneously in this manner
.”
Turning to Toq, Kornan repeated the engineer’s question. “How much longer?”
“I will need at least two more hours, Commander.”
“That is not acceptable.”
Peering down at the sensor readings, Kornan thought a moment. “We can get more accurate readings if we are closer.” It wasn’t a question.
“Of course, sir. But—”
At Toq’s hestitation, Kornan angrily prompted, “Yes?”
“Sir, as I said, I am still not sure what these subspace anomalies are. They are difficult to detect, but if we get any closer, we risk interacting with them, and I cannot predict what their effect on the Gorkon will be.”
“We are warriors, Lieutenant. Risk is our business.” He strode to his station. “Engineering, we will endeavor to cut our investigating time.” As he sat, he looked at Leskit. “Pilot, bring us to within two hundred thousand qelIqam s of the planet.”
“Yes sir.” Leskit made the course change. “Am I to assume that once that is accomplished, we are to resume lumbering around space like drunken louts?”
Kornan glowered at the older man. “Yes.”
Leskit had been Kornan’s friend and comrade for many years, but just at the moment, Kornan was unclear as to why he had grown so close to the old toDSaH. First to presume to interfere with my pursuit of Kurak, then to display such effrontery on the bridge…
Once they were in position, Toq said, “Resuming scan.”
Ten minutes later, a collision alarm sounded and the lights brightened, indicating that they were no longer cloaked.
“Cloaking device offline!” Rodek cried.
At the same time, Leskit said, “Helm unsteady—I’m losing attitude control.”
“What is happening?” Kornan asked.
“We’re drifting,” Leskit said. “Attempting to regain helm control.”
Klag then entered from his office. “Report!”
Toq finally reported something useful. “We have drifted into a subspace eddy. There are more of them this close to the planet.”
“This close?” Klag turned to face Kornan. “How much closer are we?”
Kornan gritted his teeth. “Engineering was expressing concern with the time we would need to sustain maximum sensors, the cloak, and the random maneuverings, so we moved closer to the planet to expedite Lieutenant Toq’s work.”
“I’ve regained control,” Leskit said. “Taking us out of the eddy.”
Turning to Rodek, Kornan barked, “Damage report!”
“Cloak still offline. Structural integrity field went offline for point-three seconds, causing some minor hull damage, which is being repaired. All other systems normal, sir.”
“Time to repair the cloak?”
“Unknown, sir. Nature of the damage still being assessed.”
Rodek gave his report concisely and expertly. Kornan appreciated that. Then he turned to see that his captain was glowering at him. Kornan appreciated that as well. “Captain, the eddies are difficult to detect, and Lieutenant Toq has not been able to map them.”
“Which makes one wonder why you risked getting this close to them, Commander, especially since our defenses are now reduced.”
Kornan said nothing. The first officer needed to have the trust of his captain, and he needed not to be weak in front of the crew. If he consulted the captain for such a minor course correction, he would be seen as useless. On the other hand, when there were risks to the ship involved, the captain should be consulted. And Kornan’s time on the Gorkon to date had given him little opportunity to determine which kind of captain Klag was.
“Sir,” Toq said before Klag could go on, “I do not believe that the lack of a cloak will be much of an issue. Since we moved closer, I have been able to get full sensor readings of seventy percent of the planet. The air is breathable, and there is sentient life—I am detecting several artificial structures and a system of roads. But I am detecting no artificial electromagnetic emissions. Indeed, even natural EM levels are astonishingly low.”
Klag’s face broke into a huge grin. “Really?”
Kornan tried to remain straight-faced, but even he could not prevent himself from smiling a bit. A preindustrial society would make for fine conquest.
It also meant that the need for stealth had passed. Kornan hoped that would be a mitigating factor in Klag’s mind.
“Sir, there is something else,” Toq said. “It’s only preliminary, but the geological indications are that this world is rich in kellinite.”
Everyone on the bridge shot a look at Toq then. The mineral, which was used in shipbuilding, was fairly rare, and two of the Empire’s best sources had been destroyed by the Breen during the war. Indeed, the kellinite shortage had made it difficult to replenish the ships lost in battle, and had slowed the postwar rebuilding of the fleet to a crawl.
“This is a great discovery, if it is true, Lieutenant,” Klag said slowly.
“Yes, sir,” Toq said with what Kornan thought was an unnecessarily proud smile, given that it was only a geological indication so far.
“In fact, this has the potential to be a far greater discovery than Brenlek.”
“Quite possibly, sir, yes.”
“What a pity for poor Dorrek.”
Kornan frowned. He remembered Toq mentioning at dinner one night that there was bad blood between Klag and his younger brother.
“Of course,” Klag assured Toq, “I am primarily interested in the good of the Empire.”
“Naturally, sir.”
“The fact that it makes my arrogant petaQ of a brother look bad by comparison is merely a fortuitous side effect.”
“Yes, sir.”
Klag nodded. “Excellent. The next priority is to map those subspace eddies.”
Blinking, Kornan said, “Sir, should we not—”
“What we should do, Commander,” and Klag spoke in a low, menacing voice, “is not risk stumbling into something that can take our cloak offline and deactivate our structural integrity field, even if for only point-three seconds. We cannot claim this world—this world that may combine easy conquest with riches for the Empire—until we have scanned one hundred percent of it rather than seventy, we cannot do that until we achieve orbit around it, and we cannot do that until we know we can do so without being destroyed. Once you have determined that we can orbit this world without risk to my ship, we will go in.”
“Yes, sir.” Kornan hoped he didn’t sound as meek as he felt.
To the ensign at the communications station, Klag said, “Have Lieutenant Lokor report to my office. We will be needing troops soon enough, I think. Inform me when you are ready to move the ship into orbit, Commander,” he added to Kornan as he went back to his office.
As soon as the door closed behind the captain, Leskit said, “Odd—I thought that risk was our business.”
Several people laughed at that, including Toq, but they were all silent once Kornan gave them each looks of anger.
He saved the last such look for Leskit. There will be a reckoning, “old friend,” of that you can be sure.
Kurak shifted uncomfortably in her chair. She had no great desire to be here in the wardroom. She hated having to leave inferiors in charge of engineering during her shift. It was bad enough that she had no control of the place for half the day, but she had learned to live with that over the years. To compound it, however, with being called away for idiotic discourses in the wardroom or the mess hall or the captain’s office simply irked her more.
Also present in the room were Toq, Leskit, Kornan, and Rodek. Rodek was the only one she found remotely tolerable—she had served with him once before, on the Lallek—and that was only because he mostly left her alone and was less obnoxiously Defense Force than the others. Toq, on the other hand, was the textbook example of the eager young petaQ that the military encouraged and she despised with every fiber of her being—he reminded her far too much of most of her family.
As for the other two, they were conspirin
g to drive her mad, both personally and professionally. In the case of the latter, Leskit’s crazed maneuvering had put half her staff into paroxysms, and Kornan’s attempt to improve things by moving them closer to those subspace eddies only made the problem worse.
Now they were going to get even closer to this planet. The meeting was to determine how best to do this.
“I believe we can navigate the eddies with this course,” Toq said. He called up a display on the screen. It showed the planet they had found in green, a lattice-work of subspace eddies around the world in red, and a path for the Gorkon to take in yellow. The yellow path required maneuverings that made what Leskit was doing earlier look positively ordinary.
“That should not be difficult,” Leskit said with a confidence that Kurak might have found attractive under other circumstances.
She snapped, “This isn’t a bird-of-prey, Leskit. We’re a quarter of a qelIqam long.”
Leskit just shrugged. “If we go slowly enough, it can be done more easily. The eddies don’t move, do they?”
Toq hesitated. “They have shown no signs of doing so yet.”
“Then we can take our time.” Leskit grinned. “It’s something we’ve gotten good at these past weeks.”
“The eddies are too close together once you’re within fifty thousand qelIqam s,” Kurak said, refusing to be mollified. “If you stray into one of them, we may lose the structural integrity field for even longer. And with that kind of maneuvering, the hull will be strained past its limits.”
“We’ll need to divert more power to the field,” Rodek said. “Once the cloaking device is repaired, we can take power from there. It’s useless as a tactical tool now in any case.”
“And wasteful,” Toq added. “There doesn’t appear to be anything on that planet that can detect us, cloaked or uncloaked.”
Kurak stood, slamming her fist on the wardroom table. “What is wasteful is using this ship to thread this needle when it isn’t necessary. It is obviously fit for conquest. We should call in the fleet, with their smaller ships, let them maneuver that labyrinth, and allow us to continue on our mission.”
I.K.S. Gorkon Book One: A Good Day to Die Page 8