Kobayashi Maru ste-12

by Andy Mangels

  “I tried getting into Starfleet once, Stiles said, leaning against a bulkhead near one of the battered coffeemakers, from which he had just poured himself a full cup. “Couldnt quite pass the physical, though. His tone sounded vaguely resentful of the fact, though he offered no further explanation.

  “Im sorry, Mayweather said, his elbows resting on a dull stainless steel table as he sipped at a cup of coffee that tasted as though it once might have been used to cool old-style plutonium fuel rods. He felt stupid that he hadnt been able to come up with anything better to say.

  “Im from a Starfleet family, though, Stiles continued, apparently unfazed by Mayweathers well-intentioned gaffe. “I have a niece whos just earned her lieutenants commission, a grand-nephew whos a freshly minted ensign, and a couple of cousins who made it as far as lieutenant commander. At least one of ems bound to make captain sooner or later.

  “You must be very proud, Mayweather said, pushing the nasty-tasting coffee to one side, taking care not to spill any lest it eat through the table, the deck, and the Marus ventral hull.

  Stiles chuckled mirthlessly, then looked around as though to make sure he wouldnt be overheard by any of his shipmates. “Im just glad I can take pride in somethingwhile Im serving aboard this tub.

  While Stiles was speaking, a small group of men and women brushed past Mayweathers table on their way to the freighters self-service galley area. Most of them looked somewhat weather-beaten, though they all seemed strong and fit, fairly radiating both confidence and competence. As Mayweather quietly watched them going about their mealsthey all seemed to be doing their best to avoid any contact with the Starfleet intruders who had temporarily disrupted their ships routinehe reflected that these people represented the true cutting edge of the permanent expansion of humanitys presence throughout the galaxy. This crew reminded him of the stories his late father had told him of the hardy professional survivors whose livelihoods had required them to drive incredibly heavy multiaxle trucks over the treacherous ice roads of the remote Alaskan wilderness. Like those survivors, these people were the strong backbone of the human species ongoing effort to make a permanent mark on the eternal stars themselves.

  Pioneers, as it were, on a wagon train to the stars.

  “So youre bound for Gamma Hydra next, he said, turning back toward Stiles in the hopes of directing the conversation toward a happier topic than career regrets.

  Stiles nodded. “If we ever get this inspection business out of the way so we can finish our repairs.

  Mayweather tried to defuse the thinly veiled complaint with more small talk. “You know, my familys in the interstellar hauling trade, too, working with the Earth Cargo Service. I was born on a freighter, in fact.

  Stiles chuckled around a sip of his own coffee. “Ah. A Boomer, huh?

  “Better believe it, Mayweather said, grinning. “The family is still doing business in the ship I was born in. That boat has to be at least as old as this one. In fact, family legend has it that the inside of her warp casing was autographed by Zefram Cochrane himself.

  “Get outta town, the other man said in an almost bantering tone.

  Mayweather grinned. “Thats Moms story, and shes sticking to it. Anyway, the family freighter has a few stops in the Gamma Hydra sector planned for the near future.

  “Really? Whats the ships name? Stiles asked, sounding genuinely interested.

  “The Horizon.

  Stiless eyebrows rose in surprise. “Its a small galaxy, Ensign. The Horizons scheduled to make a cargo pickup from us when we get to Gamma Hydra.

  Mayweather didnt try to conceal his delight in hearing that. His grin broadening involuntarily, he said, “Do you think I could trouble you to deliver some personal mail to Rianna and Paul Mayweather, care of the E.C.S. Horizon?

  Stiles shrugged. “I dont see why not. Assuming we can get there in time to make the rendezvous, that is. He rapped his knuckles against the bulkhead, and the sound made hollow echoes throughout the somewhat squalid crew lounge. The earlier curtain of glumness abruptly descended once again over the first mates demeanor.

  Once again at a loss for a satisfactory reply, Mayweather felt relieved when Captain Archer, Captain Vance, Lieutenant Burch, and Jacqueline Searles chose that moment to step into the room, followed by Lieutenant Reed and the two MACOs.

  Burch wasted no time handing Stiles a small padd, which the first mate studied with a steadily lengthening face.

  “Heres a copy of my report, Mister Stiles, Burch said as he pushed a pair of old-style reading glasses onto the thatch of graying blond hair at the top of his head. “As Ive already explained to Captain Vance, this vessel is going to need some serious repairs before shes back up to UESPA code. Burch shook his head. “Dont ask me whats been holding your life-support system together.

  “Clean living and noble intentions, for the most part, Vance said, looking vaguely dyspeptic. “The repairs will be expensive ones, no doubt.

  “No doubt, Burch said. “Youve either just flown this ship through the flames of hell and back, or else youve been deferring your major maintenance problems and ignoring component-replacement issues for years.

  Vance responded with a noncommittal smile. “Lets just say that the vicissitudes of interstellar trade have lately placed some severe limitations on my ability to keep this vessel in factory condition. And all the uncertainty and confusion surrounding the formation of the new Coalition hasnt helped matters any.

  Archers brow furrowed. “Uncertainty and confusion, Captain? Its funny how law and order can make everything look uncertain and confusing. Particularly when youve gotten used to making a living in the absenceof law and order, that is.

  Vances smile grew ironic. “A pity you werent here to explain the newly lawful and orderly status quo to the Orions and the Nausicaans. Particularly the last few times they decided to deprive me of my cargo.

  Vances earlier reference to the pleasure worlds he favored when his vessel was at liberty sprang abruptly into Mayweathers mind. Having lived in space all his life, he understood better than most that the interstellar hauling trade favored neither the lazy nor the libertine, though he also knew that brains counted for at least as much as hard work did. And he could see that this self-styled pirate was certainly not lacking in brains. Maybe if he spent more time working and less time partying,he thought, hed be able to afford to keep his ship from falling apart around his ears.

  “We can tow you back to one of the drydock facilities at Altair VI in just a few hours, Captain, Burch said.

  “And Im to pay for their services with what,Lieutenant? Vance said, sounding angry now that his embarrassing state of financial disarray had at last been laid totally bare. “My credit with the Altair VI port authority is, shall we say, less than sterling at the moment. My cargo is already spoken for, so I cant simply trade it away. Besides, the fine, upstanding citizens of Darro-Miller will want hard currency, and I wont be flush again until after the Marus current voyage concludes.

  “In the state shes in right now, Captain, the Marus voyage is alreadyover, Burch said. “Im sorry.

  Though Vance looked deflated, his tendency toward bravado hadnt deserted him entirely. Addressing Archer, he said, “You wouldnt be interested in floating us a temporary loan, would you?

  Except for the faint clatter of metal forks against lightweight aerogel plates, a sudden hush blanketed the room. The crewmen and technicians who were eating at the tables along the opposite wall made a show of ignoring the tableau, though they had to have heard every word. Stiles looked like he wanted nothing more than simply to crawl away somewhere and die with whatever slender shreds of dignity remained to him. Mayweather felt intense embarrassment for the first mate, as well as for his captain.

  Archer was the first to disturb the extended silence. “Im afraid I cant lend you any money, Captain Vance.

  Vance now looked utterly defeated. “Then please dont neglect to scuttle us before you get under way for your next assignment, he said very quietly.


  “But since the regs require me to render aid to all vessels in distress, Archer continued, “Ill lend you something more valuable than money: my chief engineer and his staff.

  “Sir? Burch said, obviously as surprised as Mayweather was. Reed, Vance, Stiles, and Searles all looked poleaxed as well, and even the two usually impassive MACOs exchanged quiet sidelong glances.

  “How much time do you need to get the Kobayashi Maruback under way? Archer asked the engineer.

  Burch answered without hesitation. “Forty-eight hours, max.

  “Then get busy, Lieutenant. Give TPol a list of whatever personnel and matériel you think youre going to need.

  “Yes, sir, Burch said, grinning as he contemplated the no doubt unusual challenges that awaited him. Mayweather hoped for his sake that his repair-time estimates would prove as reliable as those his predecessor used to make. After all, as good as Burch had so far proved himself to be, he wasnt Commander Tucker.

  Nobody is at the moment,Mayweather thought with a profound sense of sadness.

  After directing Lieutenant Reed and the MACOs to remain aboard to keep an eye on things, Archer moved toward the lounges raised hatchway. “Lets head back to Enterprise,Travis. I want to get this job expedited so we can get back to chasing realpirates just as soon as humanly possible.

  “Can never get enough of that,Captain, Mayweather said, grinning as he followed Archer into the corridor that led back to the section of the Kobayashi Maruto which Shuttlepod One was docked. As they walked, he contemplated still more endless hours of patrolling, watching, and waiting. And the interval that would precede the resumption of those monotonous tasks.

  Forty-eight hours. Two days.

  Plenty of time to dash off a few handwritten letters home before the Maruresumed her voyage toward Gamma Hydra, and a rendezvous with the Horizon.

  SEVEN

  Day Thirty, Month of KriBrax Dartha City, Romulus

  T HE LIGHTS SUDDENLY WENT OUT, throwing the entire lab into stygian darkness. Trip knew that the facility had its own emergency backup power systemswhich should have kicked in on their own the minute the main power circuits were interruptedso he was immediately suspicious. His pupils struggled to cope with the nights abrupt intrusion.

  Though he was still effectively blinded, his artificially pointed ears nevertheless identified the nearby sound of metal clicking against metal.

  A disruptor pistols safety catch.

  “Ehrehin, get down! Trip shouted.

  In the same breath, he tackled the elderly scientist, hoping that the more-than-human strength inherent to Vulcans and their genetic offshoots would keep the old man from suffering a bad fracture when he hit the floor.

  Breaking a hip is still a lot better than taking a disruptor blast,he thought as both mens bodies slammed against the unyielding tile floor behind one of the labs massive bookcases. The transitory brilliance of an energy blast singed the hairs on Trips neck in the split second before hed moved out of the immediate line of fire.

  That wasway too close,he thought amid the acrid stench of ozone and fear. He struggled to catch his breath and get his bearings.

  “Cunaehr! The old man could barely wheeze Trips Romulan cover name, his lungs just having been forcibly and suddenly emptied. But at least he had eluded the assassins disruptor beam.

  For the moment, at least.

  “Stay down, Doctor, Trip whispered. “And keep quiet. He hauled himself up onto his elbows, cautiously surveying what little he could see of the labs work area in an attempt to pinpoint the would-be killers location.

  Then he heard the gentle rustle of something moving beyond the sturdy desk behind which he and the old man had taken refuge. The sound seemed to have come from somewhere near the labs rear exit. Another muffled noise came from the opposite side of the room. Though his heart raced like a reactor core about to go critical, Trip tried to remain absolutely still.

  Shit. At least two of em are in here with us.

  “Are you armed, Cunaehr? Ehrehin said quietly, a fearful quaver in his voice.

  “Dont talk anymore, Trip whispered back, ignoring the question. Though he didnt, in fact, have an effective weapon within handy reach, he didnt want to admit it out loud. Keeping the bad guys guessing about things like that was always the best policy in this sort of situation.

  “Stay here, Trip whispered directly into Ehrehins ear. Despite the darkness, he was close enough to Ehrehin to see that the old man was beside himself, owl-eyed with commingled fear and outrage.

  Trip heard another noise coming from the front of the lab, the direction from which the disruptor bolt had originated. Someones feet moved slowly and stealthily forward. No one was visible as yet behind the farrago of tables, desks, bookcases, and computer terminals scattered about the room, so the shooter had to be crouching, keeping his profile low.

  Taking his cue from the intruders, Trip slowlyand quietlycombat-crawled toward the source of the intermittent sound before him. A moment later, another disruptor blast cleaved the air above him, at perhaps chest level.

  Trip grinned as he imagined a pairhe hoped it was only a pairof assassins, hunkered down on the floor much as he was, at opposite sides of the lab. They dont know exactly where to shoot just yet. And they have to fire high to protect each other.He wondered whether the assassins tactics implied that they lacked night-vision equipment, or were merely displaying an overabundance of caution.

  As he inched forward toward the edge of a storage cabinet, Trips hand brushed against a padd that hed evidently knocked to the floor when hed tackled Ehrehin. He picked it up and felt its reassuring heft. It was solid, square, and not too badly balanced. Taking care to remain silent, Trip rose to a crouch, clutching the little device nearly hard enough to shatter it.

  More motion, this time coming from the right side in his peripheral vision. Without thinking, he turned and hurled the padd with every ounce of strength he could muster. Moving from a crouch to a full run, he wasted no time chasing the object hed thrown, shouting as he executed a flying tackle on the source of the movement.

  He landed hard and found himself lying directly atop a supine humanoid bodyone that was very much alive and struggling. As he tried to grab and restrain his assailants wrists, he realized his adversary was female.

  And as strong as the proverbial ox.

  The Romulan woman sat up abruptly in spite of his strenuous attempt to pin her shoulders to the floor, and forced him relentlessly sideways and onto his back. Hot liquid dripped from her face onto his. He realized it was most likely blood; the missile hed thrown must have split her lip open, or perhaps clipped her in some other part of the head or face. Just nowhere near hard enough,he thought as she kept pushing him steadily backward and downward in spite of his best efforts to push in the opposite direction.

  The rooms scant illumination gleamed at the threshold of visibility against the disruptor pistol she still clutched in her right handand whose barrel he saw she was trying to point directly at his head. His arms trembled with exertion as he tried to push back against her and keep the weapon away, succeeding only in slowing its inexorable progress toward him. He remembered his bureau colleague, a deep cover field agent named Tinh Hoc Phuong, whod been killed elsewhere in Romulan space by a blast from a nearly identical weapon. He forced that horrific recollection aside with an absurd transient thought about TPol, and how much fun an encounter like this might be in an entirely different context. If, that is, he ever got to see her again.

  Trip felt as though he were in an arm-wrestling contest with a piece of farm machinery. His biceps, triceps, and forearms quivered as fatigue toxins began to accumulate in his tissues. He knew he was getting tired out. And that she wasnt. Though he probably outweighed her by more than a few kilos, she nevertheless seemed to be at least marginally stronger than he was, no matter how much effort he expended. And in terms of endurance she appeared to have him flat-out beaten. He was uncomfortably aware that even the most marginal advantage in a cont
est like this could end it quickly and decisively in favor of the least exhausted opponent.

  Unless he changed the rules of the game, and damned quickly.

  A number of small, hard objects clattered to the labs floor, presumably after having fallen from some pocket in the womans dark, formfitting garment. Taking full advantage of the momentary distraction, Trip suddenly stopped resisting her efforts to push him backward. Her disruptor hand swung directly toward Trips face, overshooting it before she could press the trigger even as both combatants abruptly crashed to the floor.

  He exploited her surprised state further by delivering a savage head butt. She dropped her weapon, though he couldnt immediately see where it had fallen. He breathed a silent “thank you to Adigeon Primes avian plastic surgeons for the durable cranial implants theyd installed in his forehead when theyd altered his appearance to enable him to pass as a Romulan.

  The woman shook her head, dazed, but nevertheless tried to get her feet back under her. Rising to a crouch, Trip responded with a rabbit punch and a hard right cross in rapid succession, both of which landed squarely upon the Romulan womans face.

  She fell back to the floor hard, apparently unconscious.

  Trip knelt to feel about on the floor for the womans fallen disruptor, but found only a handful of data chips, apparently the objects she had dropped just before losing her weapon.

  These two didnt come here just to kill Ehrehin,he thought, realization dawning on him. They wanted to steal Ehrehins files after getting rid of us.

  But there was no time at the moment to consider their assailants motivations, or on whose behalf they might be acting. He groped about the dark floor for a few agonizingly long moments until he found the assassins pistol, which he immediately snatched up and brought before him in a two-handed combat grip.

  The other one isnt on top of me already,Trip thought. Which has to mean that hedoesnt have night-sight gear, same as his partner.