Star Trek: Sub Rosa
The Hunter
Sabre-class USS Michelangelo, stardate 50096.1
Ensign Daniel Lord woke up and rubbed his eyes to clear the sleep from them. Something had woken him and it was only when the door chime buzzed for the third time did he realise what it was. He slid out of bed and wrapped a dressing gown around his naked frame, noting that he still had another five hours before his shift began. Lord strode over to the door and unlocked it, letting it open. He stepped back in surprise as he saw Captain Amanda Merrick in the doorway. Taking another few backward steps, he allowed his CO to enter his quarters and sat on the bed at her invitation, she remained standing.
‘Is there a problem, Captain?’ Lord asked, feeling exceptionally vulnerable.
‘Yes, there is, but it’s one that neither of us can do anything about. Five days ago, the Klingons attacked Ajilon Prime and destroyed most of the major settlements. A few doctors and nurses managed to reach the hospital bunker before the ground troops landed.’
A knot formed in Lord’s gut as Merrick spoke. He hadn’t known where his wife was, but he was sure he did now. ‘What happened?’
‘The Klingons overran the hospital and only a few people escaped. Once the Klingons left the planet, Starfleet forces were able to return to see to the dead. I’m sorry to have to tell you this, Danny, but Lisa didn’t survive the assault.’
Lord heard that last sentence in his head but he didn’t blink. He made no sounds at all for several moments, but then looked up at Merrick. ‘Request indefinite leave, Captain; I need to take my wife’s body back to Cestus Three.’
‘You’re the best pilot I’ve got, Ensign, I don’t know if I can grant that request.’
Lord’s eyes narrowed and blazed with an inner fire that Merrick had never seen before. ‘Then I tender my resignation, effective immediately.’
‘Request for indefinite leave granted, Ensign. I’ll keep the seat open for you.’
‘Thank you, Captain. If you’ll excuse me, I have some packing to do.’
Merrick nodded and left the young man’s quarters. She doubted she would be seeing him again.
* * * *
Seven years later, Earth, stardate 57210.3
The sun disappeared behind the clouds leaving behind a cool breeze in the town of Dover, on the coast of England. A man sat on a bench watching the waves ebb and flow as he contemplated his next moves. The stop-loss orders had been rescinded more than three years ago and he had once again cut himself off from Starfleet, preferring now to live a solitary life free from duty and worry. There was only one problem with that outlook, and that was his expertise in weapons and tactics—which certain people tended to think meant that he was always available when they needed his help. He’d resisted the temptation to “assist” numerous times over the last three years, but this latest plea hit him where it hurt, his memories. He heard the footsteps of the approaching person and allowed them to sit down without moving away, he’d been expecting the visit. Retired Vice Admiral John “Jack” Hayes was rarely seen outside San Francisco since his former position as head of Starfleet Tactical kept him busy, so former Lieutenant Daniel Lord felt a little privileged, but not enough to make him easily accept the assignment.
‘I know you’ve been thinking about it,’ Hayes said, looking straight ahead. ‘I would have gladly chosen anybody else for this mission, except for the fact that you are the most qualified.’
‘I suppose you can’t tell me the specifics until I accept?’
‘Something like that,’ the older man answered. ‘I have worked in Starfleet for nearly sixty years and I’ve seen a lot of battles, wars, and skirmishes. Many of which could have been avoided if people had been willing to make the hard decisions. Since my retirement, I have been speaking with President Bacco about creating a covert agency dedicated to the prevention of research and testing of advanced weaponry which would destabilise the now fragile peace we have. I need you to be a part of this, not only because of your talents in weapons and tactics, but because of your drive and determination.’
It was a good speech, Lord admitted that to himself, but there was still the spectre of going to the planet where his wife had been killed. ‘Alright, I’m in for this one. What is happening on Ajilon Prime?’
Hayes smiled briefly. ‘We originally believed that the Klingons attacked Ajilon because we were at war and it was an easy target. We were wrong. Apparently the Klingons set up a science facility there and the colonies were too close to it. Even though the Klingon fleet pulled out, the science facility still exists. According to the latest information from Starfleet Intelligence, the facility is conducting research into subspace weaponry, research banned by the second Khitomer Accords.’
‘I suppose President Bacco has asked Chancellor Martok about it and been rebuffed?’
‘The Chancellor apparently knows nothing about the facility but due to his newfound respect for the President, he is willing to allow Starfleet to deal with this issue.’
‘Ajilon Prime is still within Federation territory, so why all the secrecy?’
‘No one is supposed to know this facility even exists, and our agency doesn’t officially exist either. The Chancellor has provided us with two agents from Imperial Intelligence with weapons expertise and a cloaking device which we have already installed on one of our ships.’
‘What about the Treaty of Algeron?’
‘The Romulan Star Empire no longer exists, Lieutenant. Therefore the treaty is null and void.’
‘I would hope that we would continue to honour it.’
‘The treaty has been broken numerous times, this is just one more.’
Lord nodded, conceding the point since he couldn’t provide a reply. ‘What ship has the cloak been installed on?’
Hayes stood up and gestured for Lord to do the same. He tapped his combadge, ‘Two to beam up.’
He sighed, this had obviously been planned in advance and he had been suckered into it. What was done was done, and he would make the best of it, making sure that the Klingons in the science facility paid in blood for every Starfleet officer and Federation citizen who had died seven years ago.
He rematerialised in the small transporter bay of what looked to him like a Defiant- or Sabre-class starship and knew without a doubt that he was back aboard his first official posting.
* * * *
The turbolift doors slid open and Hayes stepped onto the bridge, with Lord following close behind. The retired admiral stepped to the left and the smiling face of Captain Amanda Merrick looked at him, albeit with a few more lines than it had before. She walked up to him and held out her hand.
‘I’m glad you could join us, Lieutenant.’
‘I take it this is your doing?’ Lord asked, grasping her hand.
‘It is,’ she answered. ‘After the Michelangelo was decommissioned, I retired from Starfleet myself until Admiral Hayes contacted me. I agreed with his viewpoint and together we started recruiting a few more people. With you aboard, our crew is complete.’
‘Will you be joining us?’ Lord asked Hayes.
‘No, I’ll be returning to the Palais shortly. You will be rendezvousing with the Klingons en route to the Ajilon system. I will be available at any time, day or night, should I be needed—but let me stress that we should remain as covert as possible at all times. Starfleet Intelligence and Starfleet Tactical are already suspicious because of the number of personnel who have disappeared off their radar, but that was necessary.’
‘We’ll cloak the ship as soon as you leave, Admiral, and set course for Ajilon.’
‘Call me Jack, I’m not in Starfleet any more, and neither are you.’
‘Is that why everyone is in civilian clothes?’
‘Everyone on board is retired or on indefinite leave,’ Merrick replied with a wry grin in Lord’s direction. ‘All your stuff has been beamed to your quarters.’
‘Do I still have to share?’
Merrick shook her head. ‘The Michelangelo has been given a tactical upgrade and greater automation. We don’t have a dedicated security force on board and we have a minimal engineering team. Every person has their own quarters.’
‘Nice to know, but if we’re not a ship of the line, what exactly are we?’
‘The Michelangelo is officially listed as decommissioned, and as such there are only five places in the galaxy where you can be repaired,’ Hayes added. ‘The largest repair base for you is in the Rashanar sector, close to the former Cardassian border. The Ontailians are usually around the Rashanar boneyard making sure that the looters and scavengers after Allied and Dominion hardware stay away, but you should have no trouble evading them.’
‘Why would we need to evade them if they are members of the Federation?’
‘You can read up on the Rashanar files when your security clearance level has been raised, which should be in the next hour or so,’ Hayes answered. ‘Suffice it to say that they might not be members for much longer, though Rashanar will still be ours.’
Lord nodded, sensing the admiral’s reluctance to say any more. ‘Do I have the helm?’
‘You are the conn officer onboard, at least when we’re not on assignments.’
‘I’ll be returning to my little office now,’ Hayes informed Merrick. ‘Good luck, Captain, and I sincerely hope that the intelligence is wrong.’
‘As do I, Jack, as do I,’ Merrick replied as Hayes returned to the turbolift.
‘I never thought I’d be seeing this place again,’ Lord muttered as he sat at the empty helm.
‘I told you I’d keep the seat open for you, Danny,’ she replied. ‘Call me Amanda; we are after all “unofficial.”’
Lord nodded. ‘So when do I get to meet the rest of our team?’
‘In a few minutes, in the meantime, please engage the cloak, set a course for Ajilon and engage at warp seven.’
‘Aye sir,’ Lord replied and entered the necessary commands.
* * * *
Lord had what he was still referring to as the gamma shift and thought about all the adventures he never had by retiring early. The war’s stop-loss order had seen thousands of retired Starfleet personnel recalled to active duty and he had been recalled as well, serving out the war on two ships, both of which had barely survived. Catching up on the last three years was relatively easy since very little had happened on a galactic scale save for the collapse of the Romulan Star Empire, which he already knew about, and the launch of the twelve Luna-class ships spearheading Starfleet’s new exploration endeavours. He was reading up on the Rashanar fiasco when the proximity klaxon sounded. Dropping his padd to the side of his chair, he hit the comm.
‘Captain…Amanda, Klingon bird of prey decloaking dead ahead.’
Merrick was on the bridge in seconds. ‘Cut the alarm, decloak, and hail them.’
Three other former officers emerged on the bridge, rounding out Merrick’s alpha team. Iain Braithwaite, a former Corps of Engineers officer with over twenty years of experience in battle maintenance; Timothy Underwood, the former chief medical officer of the Galaxy and Pompeii; and Phan Trong, a young pilot and martial artist.
‘Hailing frequencies open,’ Trong replied.
‘This is Merrick. You may beam over when you’re ready.’
Two pillars of hazy red light filled the bridge for a moment before fading to reveal two Klingons, one male and one female.
‘I am Agent Darq and this is Agent Lyt,’ the male said in a deep growl and Lord stifled a chuckle.
‘Welcome aboard the Michelangelo. I’ll show you to your quarters. Danny, cloak the ship and resume course for Ajilon Prime.’
‘Aye sir, maximum warp,’ Lord replied, wondering why there were no codenames being used.
‘I know what you’re thinking,’ Trong said. ‘We don’t need codenames because we don’t officially exist. If you check the Federation News broadcasts over the next few days you’ll find that you have been in a fatal accident of some kind.’
‘I see,’ Lord replied. ‘What do you make of our Klingon allies?’
‘Their codenames could do with a little work, or it could just be a cultural misunderstanding,’ Braithwaite added. ‘I’m sure Amanda is handling the negotiations with her usual tact.’
Lord smirked. ‘So she hasn’t changed then?’
‘She’s become more…diplomatic,’ Underwood joined the conversation. ‘You’ll see what I mean later.’
‘I just want to get to Ajilon and see exactly what the Klingons have been getting up to.’
‘Have you read the SI profile on the base?’
‘I have and it is completely devoid of specifics. Supposedly they’re working on subspace weaponry but there have been no reports of spatial anomalies anywhere near the Ajilon system since they have been working there. That leads me to one of two conclusions.’
‘Which are?’ Trong pressed.
‘One, that they are working on something else entirely and we’re being used as pawns by Chancellor Martok to remove a group of unsavoury Klingons from his plate; or two, that they have a ship at their disposal which is a test-bed for the subspace weapons which they’re building.’
‘I’m hoping for the former,’ Braithwaite replied, ‘but I have the feeling that it will be the latter.’
‘I guess, since I’m the tactician on this ship, I get to be the one to make this ship and crew ready for battle,’ Trong said with a knowing smile.
‘Don’t take this the wrong way,’ Lord said, ‘but aren’t you a little young?’
Trong grinned. ‘I’m not human,’ she replied.
Lord blinked as the realisation dawned. ‘You’re El-Aurian?’
She nodded. ‘I have been using this name for a while now because it suits me. I am in actuality more than four hundred years old.’
‘Were you on the Lakul?’
She nodded again, the expression grim this time. ‘I have followed the lives of my remaining friends as best I can, but I have lost track of a few. We tend to travel a lot.’
‘I know only of two,’ Lord replied. ‘Guinan was the bartender on the Enterprise-D and Doctor Tolian Soran, who was killed on Veridian Three trying to return to the Nexus.’
‘I knew Soran would come to no good, he became violent and intense after the Borg attacks.’
‘Starfleet changed as well,’ Lord replied. ‘And then the Dominion changed us again, sending us deeper into the abyss. Now we’re clawing our way back out and I won’t let anyone set us back, not even a group of rogue Klingons.’
‘What makes you think they are rogue?’ Darq growled, emerging on the bridge with Lyt and Amanda.
‘Because Chancellor Martok is an honourable man would be honest about the Klingons on Ajilon. He would have asked for permission to go to Ajilon if he was sure they were working under his authority. Since they are not, and the planet is in Federation space, it is up to us.’
Lyt laughed a deep belly laugh. ‘This one knows honour, Darq. You are right, human, these Klingons are rogues and we are here to see that they have a chance to redeem themselves.’
‘Before we deny them a place in Sto’Vo’Kor,’ Trong said.
‘Exactly,’ Darq agreed.
* * * *
All the members of the team were on the bridge as the Michelangelo dropped to impulse outside the Ajilon system. None of them said a word as Lord piloted the ship over the asteroid field’s ecliptic orbit and back down toward Ajilon Prime. There was plenty of debris in orbit from both Federation and Klingon ships, but there was nothing else.
‘Phan, can you tell me if there are any Klingons down there?’ Merrick asked.
‘Not without decloaking and using active sensors,’ the El-Aurian replied.
‘I assume that all Federation and Starfleet markings have been removed from the hull,’ Lord said, turning to face his former CO.
‘They have,’ she replied. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘We can decloak and use the sensors as if we’re scanning for salvage. Starfleet ships have often been sold to merchants for such reasons,’ he told them. ‘Cestus III had about six old Oberths and Mirandas working as tugs and such before the war.’
Trong nodded. ‘It’s a good strategy. It will put the Klingons on alert.’
‘They are Klingons, they should always be alert,’ Darq muttered in disdain. ‘We should beam down there and take the base by force.’
‘If they have a subspace weapon and detonate it on the surface, hundreds of people will die. The planet is still populated.’
‘No, it isn’t,’ Merrick replied. ‘Officially it is, but Starfleet Command relocated the remaining colonists during the war since this was a front line.’
‘Perhaps we should act as a salvage team. If the colonists are gone, some equipment and technology will have been left behind. We can pretend to be a salvage crew. So we should take a shuttle and a couple of antigravs,’ Underwood said.
‘Why not use the transporters?’ Braithwaite asked.
‘If this were a reconditioned Starfleet ship, that tech would have been removed, along with a great deal more. We should make the bridge and other areas look reconditioned in case it is boarded at any time, or if we invite anyone aboard.’
‘So we become a salvage crew and make the ship look like a barely operational derelict?’ Merrick asked.
Lord nodded. ‘It makes tactical sense, Amanda. No one is going to bother a salvage team. Since the end of the war they’re all over the place.’
‘So after this mission we head back to Rashanar and have the engineers wreck my ship, wonderful.’
‘If we want to have successful missions, we should keep the ship looking in bad shape so that if and when we do need to fight, we have an element of surprise.’
‘Alright, fine. I’ll authorise that and I’m sure Admiral Hayes will accept it. In the meantime, Iain, prep a suitably battered shuttle that should belong to a different ship. Tim, get two antigravs that don’t work properly and load them into the shuttle. Danny, work with Agent Lyt to get a deck plan of the base. We won’t have long and we’ll probably have to fight.’
‘Are any of you proficient with bladed weapons?’ Darq asked.
The others shook their heads, but Lord nodded. ‘I am familiar with bladed weapons from a number of cultures, and I can use them. I have a number in my quarters.’
Darq smiled, showing his pointed teeth stained with who-knew-what. ‘Excellent, I look forward to fighting alongside you.’
‘Qapla!’
‘Danny, the deck plan please. I don’t want to remain here any longer than necessary.’
‘Yes ma’am,’ Lord replied with a grin.
‘Dismissed,’ Merrick called out and they all scattered.
Lord showed Darq to the observation room behind the bridge and called up a holographic display. Darq set a Klingon padd down on the table and a three-dimensional image of the science base appeared. According to the specs there were only four levels, all built underground with a hidden ramp leading to the complex. Each section of each level of the complex appeared to have forcefield generators and there were clearly defined areas for the Klingons to work in. The living spaces were on the uppermost level and a recreation ground on the second with science labs on the third and fourth.
‘What’s this?’ Lord asked, pointing to a central chamber.
Darq glanced at him with eyes that told volumes of information; and none of it good. ‘That is their power supply.’
‘Which is?’
‘A warp core,’ was the simple reply.
Lord sighed. ‘Does that mean there is a low-level warp bubble around the complex?’
‘Yes, are you not detecting it?’
‘No!’ Lord growled and hit his combadge. ‘Lord to Merrick.’
‘Is there a problem?’
‘The science complex has a warp core for power. They must have a dampening field around it.’
‘Damn! It looks like we’re going to need something a little more tactical than salvage.’
‘I don’t think so,’ Lord replied looking at the specs in front of him. ‘We should be able to get into the complex through a hidden corridor, most likely an escape route for the scientists.’
‘Do Klingons escape?’
‘If they need to protect their data, they will do whatever is necessary,’ Darq added.
‘Alright, bring me your plan in one hour. The shuttle should be suitably battered by then.’
‘Yes ma’am.’
* * * *
The battered shuttle emerged from the cloaking envelope like a victim escaping their abuser, and considering the look of the shuttle, it was apt. Amanda Merrick had elected to stay aboard the Michelangelo with Braithwaite and Underwood while Trong and the two Klingon agents joined Lord for the insertion. Lord was piloting while the other former Starfleet officers checked their weapons; he’d checked his before reaching the shuttlebay. As the shuttle descended into the upper atmosphere, the proximity sensors emitted a warning, a Klingon bird of prey was decloaking off the Michelangelo’s port bow.
‘I’m taking us on a steeper trajectory.’
‘The Klingons won’t attack us, will they?’ Trong asked.
‘They will attack the ship,’ Darq replied. ‘Federation vessels do not have cloaking devices so the Klingons will be protective over their ill-gotten gains.’
‘We have nothing to worry about, Amanda can be very diplomatic,’ Lord said with a slight grin.
‘Diplomacy will not save you,’ Lyt added.
‘Amanda’s diplomatic arsenal consists of phasers and photon torpedoes.’
Darq burst into a raucous laugh. ‘That is Klingon diplomacy.’
‘Perhaps,’ Trong replied a little cautiously.
‘Coming through the cloud cover,’ Lord returned their attention to the matter at hand.
The shuttle banked as it approached the cave system which had served as the Federation hospital seven years ago, and which also served as the main entrance to the Klingon science complex. Lord deactivated the port and ventral stabilisers and the shuttle landed with a hard bump a hundred metres from the cave entrance.
‘I take it there was a reason for that?’ Lyt asked with a scowl.
‘I wanted to make it look like this is a piece of junk just in case anyone was watching.’
‘You could have warned us.’
‘When you stumble out of the shuttle, it has to look convincing,’ Lord replied. ‘Grab the antigravs and follow me.’
‘You’ve never been here!’
‘I have an eidetic memory. I’ve seen the layout of the cave system and the complex and memorised it completely.’
‘Fine, let’s go,’ Trong said and stumbled out the open hatch of the type-nine shuttle.
Darq and Lyt, both dressed in what passed for clothing suitable for hired muscle, each manoeuvred an antigrav sled while Lord took point. Trong waited until they were all clear and then closed the hatch, taking up the rear guard. Lord swaggered into the cave, shining a civilian torch into the gloom, looking for anything left behind.
‘There’s nothing here,’ Trong said.
‘The Klingons must have taken what the Federation left behind,’ Lord replied derisively.
‘Why the hell are we wasting our time on this backward rock? There’s no one here.’
‘Patience,’ Lord cursed. ‘You’re young; you have to learn that there is always something hidden.’
‘Did the Federation intend to come back?’ Trong asked, playing the role of the inexperienced and eager salvager to the hilt.
‘They did come back, but they abandoned this planet again soon after,’ Lord said. ‘I want to know why.’
The quartet walked deeper into the cave system, the torch making less and less impact on the growing gloom. Darq and Lyt kept up their roles, each thinking that the humans were not as inexperienced in matters of stealth as they appeared at first glance. Trong kept up the rear and Lord held the torch in front of him, moving it left and right as if searching. All of a sudden he stopped.
‘What is it?’ Trong asked.
Lord lowered his voice to a whisper. ‘The tricorder is picking up a holographic signature ahead of us.’
‘No wonder the Starfleet officers didn’t notice it,’ she replied at an equal volume and then raised her voice to normal. ‘There’s nothing here.’
Lord took out his Starfleet-issue phaser and fired at the holographic stone. ‘Nothing, huh? Someone is hiding something,’ he retorted as the hologram faded, leaving behind a familiar door.
‘What the hell are they hiding in here?’ Trong muttered as she scanned the door. ‘It’s made of a duranium alloy. We should be able to burn through it.’
‘Pah,’ Darq muttered. ‘We don’t need to. They will open the doors to kill us if they are warriors.’
‘And if they’re not?’
‘Then we blow the doors open and kill them like Romulan scum,’ Lyt answered.
They waited for several moments, sure that an alarm had been raised inside. Nothing happened.
‘I saw we blow it,’ Trong said and removed an explosive device from one of the antigravs. ‘Phasers would take too long.’
Lord smiled and stepped back.
Less than a minute later Trong nodded and they sprinted down the cavern.
The explosion was far more powerful than Lord expected and the cave rumbled beneath his feet. He heard a tumbling in the distance and knew that some rocks had been dislodged and fallen somewhere.
‘Okay, let’s go,’ he said and returned to what was left of the doorway.
‘Oops,’ Trong said with a grin.
‘You were only supposed to blow the bloody doors off,’ Lord cursed.
* * * *
‘Vor’cha-class vessel decloaking ahead,’ Braithwaite said from tactical.
‘Relax, Iain, they saw the shuttle leave but they don’t know we’re here,’ Merrick replied. ‘Prepare to raise the shields and charge weapons.’
The engineer looked a little worried. ‘We’re being hailed.’
‘Ignore them.’
‘This is Commander Kruge of the HuQoQ. You are violating sovereign Klingon territory. Withdraw or you will be destroyed.’
Merrick ground her teeth. ‘Sovereign territory, huh?’
‘This is your final warning, Starfleet petaQ.’
‘Amanda!’ Underwood screeched. ‘The HuQoQ is turning toward the surface!’
‘That tears it,’ the former Starfleet captain muttered. ‘Drop the cloak, raise shields and prepare to fire.’
‘Finally,’ Braithwaite replied.
‘Today is a good day to die,’ Kruge yelled and cut the channel.
‘They’re firing,’ Underwood yelled as the photon torpedo slammed into them.
‘Shields holding.’
‘Open a channel.’
‘Channel open.’
‘This is Amanda Merrick of the salvage vessel Michelangelo. Why have you fired on us?’
‘Salvage vessel?’ Kruge replied with a guffaw. ‘With a cloak?’
‘We stole it from the Romulans, easy pickings.’
Kruge glared at her across the screen. ‘You may have bested the Romulans, but you are no match for a Klingon warrior.’
‘Are you a warrior, then?’ Merrick asked.
Kruge growled and cut the channel again.
‘Return fire, all weapons.’
Three photon torpedoes and a continuous barrage of phaser fire, all concentrated on the nacelles and neck of the massive Klingon vessel, collapsed the shields. It was a weak point in the vessel’s defence systems that the Dominion had discovered. Many of the newer Vor’cha-class ships had been strengthened, but this was clearly an older model.
‘Again, before they cloak,’ she barked.
Braithwaite fired just as the HuQoQ cloaked. He was just in time. The Klingon vessel exploded from the neck, tearing the vessel to pieces before the vacuum took care of the rest.
‘They died in battle,’ Merrick said.
‘Was that the only vessel assigned to the outpost?’ Underwood asked. ‘It seems a little light.’
‘Cloak the ship; let’s just hope there’s no one else around.’
‘Cloak engaged.’
‘Contact Lord, I want to know what is happening down there.’
‘There’s a lot of static on the channel,’ Braithwaite said. ‘I’m working to clear it.’
‘Merrick to Lord, what’s happening down there?’
‘We’ve blown…doors…the complex,’ Lord said through the static. ‘Klingons…attacking…’
She turned to her engineering expert. ‘Can’t you do better than that?’
Braithwaite sighed, used to overbearing commanders. ‘Try it now,’ he said, tweaking the settings on his panel.
‘I can barely hear you, Danny.’
‘The Klingons are attacking us with their Bat’leths but they’re not really proficient,’ the younger man responded.
‘Keep me posted, we’ve dealt with the ship in orbit. I don’t want to hang around here any longer than necessary.’
‘We’re dispatching them as fast as we can, Amanda,’ was Lord’s acerbic reply.
She smirked, ‘Merrick out.’
* * * *
The bat’leth swung in a narrow arc preventing anyone with range to avoid it, and the Klingon facing it went down with his body almost cut in half. Daniel Lord ignored the sprays of blood from the Klingons around him and revelled in the joy of dispatching as many of the filthy animals as he could. He had only been married a short while when the devious warrior-animals had slaughtered his wife while she was trying to escape from something she knew nothing about. Lord had nurtured his hatred of the Klingons since that day seven years earlier and although the Federation had become their allies again, he didn’t he’d ever be able to trust one again.
Merrick’s unwelcome intrusion had forced him to concentrate on what he was doing and his thirst for blood had been sated once he realised what he was actually doing. The Klingons, to him a mortal enemy, were still sentient beings and he had no right to judge them. They were probably following the orders of a dead Chancellor and either knew nor cared what had happened since. It was that single realisation that made him hesitate as another Klingon came toward him. Lord didn’t move fast enough and the mek’leth sliced through his arm like a hot knife through butter. The bat’leth was impossible to use to fight with one hand but he used it as a sword and buried it in the Klingon’s chest before collapsing to the ground with a grunt.
Trong reached him a moment later with the medkit. ‘You look like hell,’ she said with a smile.
‘Thanks,’ he replied through gritted teeth. ‘Give me a painkiller, staunch the blood and let me get the rest of these…Klingons to the afterlife.’
Trong stared at him for a moment and he inwardly cursed. As an El-Aurian she would have picked up on his hesitation and word choice and would no doubt bring it up later. It was something he did not look forward to. ‘I can staunch the blood flow and bandage the stump but I’d rather not give you a painkiller. We need your knowledge of subspace weapons to tell us what we’re dealing with here.’
‘How are we doing with the Klingons?’
She gave him another stare. ‘They’re dead, all of them, including our escorts,’ she added, pointing to where Agents Darq and Lyt lay.
Lord hauled himself up off the ground without help and steadied himself against the cavern wall. ‘Now that we don’t have any more Klingons to worry about, we should be able to find out what they were working on and stop them.’
‘They’ve already been stopped,’ Trong said. ‘And we’re not going anywhere until I know what’s going on with you?’
‘Nothing is going on with me, let’s deal with whatever weapons they’re cooking up and get the hell off this god-forsaken rock.’
‘This rock used to be a Federation colony,’ Trong said. ‘What has you so worked up about being here?’
‘Haven’t you read my file? Didn’t Amanda tell you what happened here seven years ago?’
‘No and no.’
Lord knew that she wouldn’t release him until he told her, so he did, adding whatever he had learned in the intervening years. ‘I will never forgive the Klingons, even if the Chancellor himself apologised for their actions.’
‘From what you’ve told me, it seems like these Klingons aren’t—weren’t—acting under Martok’s leadership, but under Gowron. You know as well as I do that he was not completely honourable in everything he did. What you are doing is tarring all Klingons with the same brush. They are not all warriors and not dishonourable. What did you think of Agents Darq and Lyt?’
‘Honestly?’ he replied sheepishly. ‘I didn’t care about them. For me they were a means to an end.’
‘Getting here, getting rid of the Klingons and stopping them building their subspace weapons? Is that the only reason you joined the team?’
Lord nodded, not meeting her gaze.
‘And what about when this mission is over? What were you planning to do?’
‘I hadn’t thought that far ahead, to be honest. I still haven’t.’
‘We’re going to talk more about this later and I’m not going to tell Amanda. I know that she would be extremely disappointed in you for thinking and behaving like this, and might even reconsider your being a member of this team.’
Lord thought about her comment and then nodded. ‘Alright, we’ll talk later. But right now I want to find out exactly what the Klingons were working on.’
‘Then let’s go, this cavern leads directly to the laboratories doesn’t it?’
‘Yes, but it is a good kilometre away, we should get moving,’ Lord replied and tapped his combadge. ‘Amanda, the Klingons are down and we’ve lost Agents Darq and Lyt. Phan and I are now proceeding to the main complex, Lord out.’
* * * *
After a brisk ten minute walk the two operatives had reached the end of the cavern. The bare walls gave way to plascrete flooring and bulkhead-covered rock. There was one long corridor that bisected the circular complex and one of the rooms on this level would be the main science lab where the Klingons would have done their work. Lord’s shoulder was aching from the pain of losing his arm, which he’d left somewhere in the blood and gore of the destroyed entryway, and he was beginning to feel lightheaded even with the medication which Phan had given him. She was taking point, phaser pointed ahead while he carried a tricorder in his remaining hand.
‘Are you picking up anything?’ she asked.
‘Not at the moment, the lab might be shielded. Do you think there are any Klingons left behind?’
She turned to look at him and he held up his arm in self defence. ‘I don’t want to lose this arm from a surprise attack.’
‘Alright, no there are no more Klingons that I can detect with any of my senses. Still nothing on which lab?’ she asked as they continued to walk down the central corridor.
‘Wait!’
‘What?’
‘I’m getting readings from every room but one, three doors down on the left.’
They both ran to the door and Phan entered first at a crouch in case a Klingon was wielding a bat’leth. The room was empty and Lord entered. It was completely empty except for another doorway at the end.
‘Sealed with some kind of magnetic lock.’
‘Can we override?’
Lord considered his options. He was not an engineer by trade, he was a pilot, but having run his own ship for a few years, he knew his way around an engine room. ‘We could. Reconfigure my tricorder to emit a magnetic pulse in opposition to the polarity sealing the door.’
‘In other words, switch polarity.’
Lord smiled. ‘Whatever.’
Trong did as she was asked and door slid aside. She handed the tricorder back to Lord who whistled as he thumbed through the screens of data.
‘Anything interesting?’
‘Plenty, and all of it bad.’
‘What were they working on?’
He stepped further into the room and a forcefield went up, separating the two of them. ‘A subspace transphasic torpedo.’
‘Which does what?’
‘Imagine an improperly-calibrated warp bubble collapsing around an inhabited planet.’
‘Huh?’
‘This torpedo is designed to reached the core of a planet while phased and then erupt in subspace, taking the planet with it.’
Trong blanched, her Oriental features fading to a ghostly white. ‘That’s barbaric.’
‘I disagree,’ said a voice that could have belonged to a holonovel villain.
Trong turned. ‘Who are you?’
‘My name is Guy West, I am the man who paid the Klingons to set up this little outpost.’
‘And what are you doing here now?’
‘To see if they managed to get my little weapon working. I would advise against trying to stop it, Mister Lord, it will probably kill you.’
‘A small price to pay,’ he replied, realising that the Klingons were little more than hired mercenaries and scientists and not worthy of his hate. West however, was worthy of considerably more. ‘Is Ajilon going to be your first test? Wipe out the scene of the crime?’
‘Yes and no,’ West answered. ‘I have several hidden bases like this throughout Federation, Klingon and Romulan space. It comes in handy in my line of work.’
‘You’re an arms dealer, but instead of buying and selling, you create your own?’
‘Not quite,’ he said in the tone of a teacher speaking with a dense child.
‘You were almost there, Phan. He works on commission. Someone asks him for a weapon and he designs and builds it for them, for a price.’
‘At least the Borg have a goal,’ she said and launched herself at him.
He effortlessly avoided her, gliding out of the way and sending her sprawling at the same time. ‘I’m sorry but I really cannot let you live,’ he added and pressed a button on a device which materialised in his hands.
One of the torpedo casings vanished before their eyes.
‘You don’t have a choice in the matter,’ Lord replied and, dropping his tricorder to the floor, he tapped his combadge twice.
Nothing happened.
* * * *
West laughed. ‘Do not mistake me for a bad holonovel villain, Mister Lord. I think I will take your young friend here as an insurance policy to prevent your pathetic little team from following me,’ he said and both he and Trong vanished in a beam of light, quickly followed by the remaining subspace torpedoes.
‘Danny, what’s happening down there?’ Merrick asked.
‘Beam me up, now. A subspace weapon is about to go off.’
He materialised on the bridge and dived toward the helm. ‘I’m plotting a course away from here,’ he said to no one in particular and pushed the ship to warp eight.
‘Mind telling me what is happening?’
‘An arms dealer named Guy West strolled in, kidnapped Phan and the torpedoes and set one off on Ajilon.’
‘What does it do?’
‘It essentially pulls the planet’s core into subspace, setting off a nova-intensity explosion in both subspace and normal space. This region will likely be impossible to travel to for decades, perhaps centuries.’
‘And there’s no way you can—’ she broke off as the ship took a tumble.
‘Our warp bubble collapsed. The explosion is propagating through subspace.’
‘Meaning?’ Underwood asked as he pulled himself upright.
‘It means that the explosion was far more powerful than I expected and it could destabilise a much larger area of space,’ Lord shot back. He looked at Merrick. ‘Can someone check the sensors to see if any other ship nearby was thrown from warp?’
‘We’re receiving a distress call,’ Braithwaite called from the tactical station. ‘About half a light year away.’
‘Set a course to intercept,’ Merrick ordered. ‘If that is this West character then we should be able to catch him.’
‘What do we do about turning him over to the authorities if we don’t officially exist?’
‘That is Admiral Hayes’ headache. I want to catch this bastard.’
‘He mentioned having a number of secret bases like that one throughout Federation, Klingon and Romulan space. I think we should leak that information to Praetor Tal’Aura and Chancellor Martok,’ Lord suggested.
‘Why?’
‘To piss him off.’
Merrick smiled. ‘You don’t like him do you?’
‘I don’t like anyone that kills for the sake of it or has the morality of dust mote.’
Merrick nodded and motioned to her ready room.
Once inside she sat down let him sit. ‘What does that say about you? I heard what was going on down there after the Klingon attack.’
‘I don’t know what to say to that.’
‘Let’s find this arms dealer and then we’ll talk.’
‘Sure, I think we should call Hayes about this. He might have something on West that we can use,’ Lord replied.
Merrick nodded and entered a sequence of commands into the console on her desk.
‘You have news to report?’ Hayes asked.
Lord filled him in on the events at Ajilon, the arrival of West and the subsequent subspace explosion. Merrick added the chase to find what could be his vessel.
‘I was hoping you would be able to stop it. I’ll inform President Bacco, this could upset any kind of peace talks she has with the Klingons, and possibly the Romulans as well.’
‘What do we do with him when we have him in our custody?’ Merrick asked.
‘Drop him at the Rashanar base and I’ll have him transported to Earth.’
‘He’s slimy, Jack. Make sure he’s got nothing on him, use a microcellular scanner if you have to,’ she replied.
‘You have to catch him first.’
‘Bridge to Amanda, we’re approaching the ship,’ Underwood called.
‘I’ll call again soon, Jack,’ Merrick replied and closed the channel. ‘Let’s go get this son of a bitch.’
Lord volunteered to beam onto the ship, and Merrick sent Underwood with him in case Trong was injured. Braithwaite would be manning the controls to bring them all back. Both men had their phasers out as they materialised on the bridge of an old civilian freighter which had obviously been heavily customised.
‘My tricorder isn’t picking up any lifesigns,’ Underwood said.
‘She could be in a shielded location.’
‘She could be dead, Mr Lord.’
‘I’m not entertaining that possibility because then I’ll want to kill West instead of capturing him.’
Underwood said nothing at that, instead focusing more intently on the tricorder. ‘I’ve got her, ten metres to starboard.’
‘That would be an escape pod on this thing,’ Lord muttered. ‘You get Phan back to the ship, I’m going to find out what is on this ship and why West left it behind.’
An alarm klaxon suddenly sounded and Merrick yelled into the comm. ‘I’m beaming you back now, we’re getting out of here.’
‘Wait!’ They ran to the escape pod and launched it with all three of them inside. ‘Now!’
‘Energising.’
Just before they were beamed back to the Michelangelo, Lord caught sight of a Romulan warbird decloaking. Phan would be dead if they hadn’t spotted that ship. He didn’t care now about anything else. West was going to die, regulations or not.
* * * *
Lord was back at the helm almost as if he had been beamed into that position, awaiting Merrick’s orders.
‘There’s no way we can go toe-to-toe with a warbird,’ she mused.
‘It’s not here for us, it’s here to pick up West,’ Lord replied.
‘Is he going to let us live?’
‘I hope so; I want to give him the opportunity to regret it.’
Merrick sighed. ‘Get us out of here, maximum warp.’
‘On it,’ he replied and the Michelangelo jumped to warp.
‘They’re pursuing,’ Braithwaite said. ‘Intercept in fifty seconds.’
‘Any ideas?’ Merrick asked. ‘You’re the engineer.’
‘Whatever I do will postpone the inevitable for only a few minutes, I doubt we’ll survive.’
On the viewscreen, the Romulan warbird grew closer with each passing second. Lord was concentrating on preparing for evasive manoeuvres when he had an idea. ‘I had my tricorder set to record everything. There might be a copy of the signal he sent to the weapon to arm it. If we can use that, we can set the device to home in on the warbird’s singularity drive.’
‘Will that work?’ Merrick asked.
‘Our odds just increased exponentially,’ the former engineer replied with a wide grin as he started searching through the computer.
‘Intercept in twenty seconds,’ Merrick called out. ‘Do you have the signal?’
‘Yes, preparing to send it on your mark.’
‘Drop to impulse, raise shields and charge phasers.’
As Braithwaite complied, Merrick set a plan B into motion that would put an end to West. None of the other members of the crew knew about it, and it could only be authorised by her, or another duly-appointed commanding officer. It would leave the ship a sitting duck, but the threat would have been neutralised.
‘Amanda,’ Lord said, ‘We’re not going to be very popular back home if this works.’
‘We’ll be dead if it doesn’t and either way, I’m not particularly bothered.’
‘Intercept in eight seconds,’ Braithwaite added, his hand hovering over the send key.
‘Will they have to drop their shields for the signal to get through?’
‘No, it should reach them just fine with their shields up, like a communications signal.’
‘Okay, let’s see how lucky we are.’
‘They’re hailing us.’
‘On screen.’
‘Captain Amanda Merrick, good to finally meet you,’ Guy West said jovially.
Merrick stared. ‘And you are?’
‘Guy West, though I’m sure your crewmen told you everything they knew. How is the young woman?’
‘Fine thanks,’ Lord said, standing. ‘Why don’t you drop your shields so we can throw a couple of torpedoes at you, do the galaxy a favour.’
West’s smile faded like an eclipse. ‘That’s no way to treat a fellow explorer.’
Merrick turned to Braithwaite. ‘Now.’
West turned to his side as a member of the unseen crew spoke to him. ‘What have you done?’ he asked in a panicked voice before closing the channel.
‘Guess it worked,’ Merrick said. ‘Danny, get us out of here.’
‘My pleasure.’
The Sabre-class ship jumped away just as an almost unseen small scout ship fled the massive warbird. The subspace torpedo detonated and the warbird collapsed in on itself.
‘By the holy cows of India!’ Braithwaite cursed.
Merrick spun round. ‘Tell me he didn’t escape?’
‘A small scout left at the same time we did. It could have been him.’
‘We’ll get him next time. Danny, set a course for Rashanar. Ian, get me Admiral Hayes on subspace. I’m not looking forward to this.’
‘Sickbay to bridge, Phan is going to be ok. But she would like to know when she can – and I quote – “give that Tenebian slime monkey his dues.”’
‘As soon as we find his sorry ass,’ Lord muttered just loud enough for the comm system to pick up.
‘I’ll relay the message,’ Underwood said, closing the channel.
‘Danny, this isn’t going to turn into a vendetta like the Klingons is it?’
‘Nothing so mundane,’ Lord replied, not caring who heard what he was about to say. ‘The Klingons did what they were paid to do like the hired scientists or thugs they were, but they died in honourable combat. West is a different kettle of fish altogether. He has no morals and plays everyone against everyone else to make profit. At least the Ferengi follow their Rules of Acquisition for the most part. I intend to find West and providing that I don’t kill him with my bare hands I want to see him face justice for every single death that he has caused, directly or indirectly.’
‘Why?’ Braithwaite asked.
‘Because he nearly killed Phan. I don’t want to lose anyone else I care about.’
‘Hayes is on for you, Captain.’
Merrick told the former admiral everything and waited for the inevitable chewing out.
‘President Bacco is smoothing things over with the Praetor and Chancellor. Get yourself to Rashanar and I’ll get back to you when this mess has been sorted out. Amanda, this is not how I wanted the mission to go.’
‘I know, sir. I’m not making any excuses.’
Hayes smiled. ‘Have some time off, all of you. I expect a full report from each of you. And while Starfleet might allow some latitude in goes in them, I do not. I want your full report, feelings, hunches, and the usual. Don’t make me regret putting this team together. Hayes out.’
‘That could have been worse.’
‘Yes, it could, and I have a feeling that it might well do next time we talk.’