Star Trek: The Hand of Kahless (27 page)

Dr. Tagore said, “But…we’ve recrossed the Zone. We’re in Federation space.”

Krenn pointed at the blue marks of ships. “That is a planetary assault squadron,” Krenn said. “It will arrive at our present location in approximately two hours. Its assignment is to destroy the colony on this planet’s surface: twelve million Federation citizens.”

“How do you know that?”

“It was in the Red File,” Krenn said. “Section Two. Which was deleted before the File was turned over.”

“Van Diemen’s war,” Dr. Tagore said softly. “How did he arrange
this?
”

“Our Admirals are not different from yours.”

“No. I suppose not. And it doesn’t matter if Starfleet arrives, does it…the result’s just the same.”

“Starfleet will not arrive, now that our escort has been evaded,” Krenn said. He touched the communicator key on his Chair. “Special Communications, is subspace jammed?”

“On all frequencies, Captain,” Kelly’s voice said.

“You intend,” Dr. Tagore said, “to fight them?”

“I intend to defeat their purpose,” Krenn said, “by whatever means are necessary.”

The Bridge crew turned, almost as one, to face Maktai. Mak stood up slowly from the Security console, pointed his hand past Krenn, at the Strategic display. “The Admirals have conspired to throw away Klingon lives as if they were
kuve,
” he said, in the coldest voice Krenn had ever heard him use. “This is no more than mutiny, and less honorable. Security stands with the Captain.”

The sound that followed was not so much a cheer as collective relief.

Krenn said, “Since there is the possibility that the squadron will attack this ship, I must put you ashore, Emanuel.”

Dr. Tagore said, “I…”

“You are the Ambassador. With you aboard, I may not unlock my weapons.”

“Yes…I know. Will you, however, do a thing for me first? Will you open a subspace channel to Earth, for one hour—time for a message and reply?”

Krenn opened link to Kelly, gave the order. “Ready,” she said. “Your message?”

“What is the Conference’s decision,” he said, “on Referendum 72?”

“Transmitted.”

Krenn said, “What is Referendum 72?”

“To close the Embassy to Klinzhai, and recall the Ambassador.”

“But—” Krenn said. “If they meant to hold such a vote, why wasn’t it done while you were still on Earth?”

“Because there was a Klingon ship in orbit above the Earth,” Dr. Tagore said, “and its guns were under diplomatic seal. They could not pass 72 until you were a long way off.”

“
Kai
the Babel Conference, tower of courage,” Maktai said.

“Strange you should call it that,” Dr. Tagore said.

Krenn said, “Would we have been any better? And we would not have trusted the diplomatic seal.”

“Perhaps you’re both right,” Dr. Tagore said. “There: that may be my last official diplomatic statement.” He went toward the lift. “I’ll be in my cabin…call me when the reply comes.”

Krenn went to him instead, along with Kelly, and Maktai.

Dr. Tagore opened the door, saw the three of them, said, “Oh, my, is it as bad as all that? Please come in, don’t mind the mess.” The Human had been folding clothes, stacking them on the furniture: his library was already folded into its case and sealed, sitting in the middle of the floor.

Kelly said, “The referendum to recall has passed. The final vote was—”

“Don’t tell me that…not yet. I’ll find it out soon enough. Just tell me—was it close?”

“Neither close nor overwhelming.”

Dr. Tagore sighed. “Not even with a bang. Well. Under the circumstances, I don’t suppose I will be allowed to travel to Klinzhai; someone else will have to close the Embassy office.” He said to Maktai, “Tell them to be careful, disposing of the encryption machine; it’s obsolete anyway, and it really does contain a destruction charge.”

Krenn said, “The squadron will arrive in seventy minutes. We have made arrangements to put you ashore…they’ll probably meet you with weapons drawn, but I don’t think they’ll harm you.”

“I’m sure they won’t. I’m the most harmless of men.”

Krenn said, in the Federation language, “Trouble rather the tiger in his lair than the sage amongst his books. For to you Kingdoms and their armies are things mighty and enduring, but to him they are but toys of the moment, to be overturned by the flicking of a finger.”

Dr. Tagore had stopped still, a half-folded shirt draped over his arm. “So now you understand,” he said, very quietly, “what it is the books have to say.”

“It is a Klingon faith as well.”

Dr. Tagore put down the shirt. “Yes…you told me….”

Krenn tensed. He had not intended that speech for Kelly or Mak. Yet he had said it, as if he wanted it heard.

“…that there were no more Thought Admirals.”

Krenn relaxed, nodded. “How soon will you be ready to beam down?”

“Oh, everything important is packed,” the Human said, indicating the library case. “But I’d like to ask the Captain’s permission to remain aboard. Until…whatever happens, is over.”

“And if there is a combat? I will not be able to lower shields, to transport you to safety.” It was only the truth: Antaan’s penetration technique would not work through
Mirror
’s shields. Nor anyone else’s, soon enough.

“Well, I am no longer an ambassador, which eliminates that objection. If there is a combat, I will do my best not to interfere. And not to be killed too early…

“Our destinies are already interlocked, Krenn. It is too late to separate them.”

Krenn nodded slowly. He turned to Kelly. “Have engineering rig a Flag Commander’s Chair on the Bridge.”

She said, “Dr. Tagore may use my station; I can control communications from the Special Room.”

“Which you cannot leave, if it burns?” Krenn said. Then, more calmly, he said, “No. We will all be on the Bridge. Emanuel is right; there are destinies that cannot be separated.”

Mirror
hung still, shadowed by a planetoid, wrapped in electronic silence.

“Hostile squadron two thousand kilometers and closing,” the Helmsman said.

Krenn said, “Subspace is jammed, Communications?”

“On all frequencies, Captain.”

“One thousand kilometers and closing.”

“Tactical.”

The display showed three D-4 cruisers in echelon; they filled the screen.

“Five hundred kilometers and closing.”

“Weapons?” Krenn said.

“Preheats completed, Captain. All circuits show blue lights.”

“Take pre-locks, then. But wait for it. Communications, on my command drop our sensor jamming, and open RF link to the squadron.”

“Affirm.”

“Range to squadron approaching zero.”

The three ships passed over the one, barely twice a cruiser’s length away. The tactical display seemed to show every weld and bolt and panel. In a moment they were past, impulse drives glowing. Triangles bracketed them on the display. “Prelocks,” the Gunner said.

“Communications…action.”

The main display showed a cruiser’s Bridge, the face of a Klingon Captain. The view sparked slightly, radio-frequency communication rather than subspace.

“What ship is that?” the Captain said. He was young, and familiar to Krenn. “This is Kian, of
Fury,
commanding a special attack squadron. If you are a privateer, you may join us—”

“This is Krenn, Captain of
Mirror.
Pleased to know of your advancement, Captain Kian.”

Dr. Tagore looked puzzled. Maktai went over to the Human, spoke softly into his ear. Dr. Tagore nodded, sadly.

“Captain Krenn? I…was not told you were in this sector. Are you not commanding the…diplomatic mission?”

“I was. But no longer.”

“Then you may join us,” Kian said, excited. “There will be high glory—”

“No,” Krenn said, “you are mistaken.” He turned to
Mirror
’s Weapons officer, spoke a phrase of Battle Language.

Disruptors flared from
Mirror,
punching through thin rear shields on all three of the cruisers at once.

“This is mutiny!” Kian shouted, his teeth showing to their roots.

“Kelly, countermeasures,” Krenn said, and the display picture broke up. “Helm.” Krenn sketched course plans, and
Mirror
responded, rolling sidewise, keeping forward shields to the squadron.

“Incoming fire,” Antaan said from the Science console, “three-eight, three-five, three-three—” He was almost as cool as Akhil, Krenn thought. The tactical display reappeared in time to flare blue, and
Mirror
shook with damage.

“One impact, two misses,” said the Engineer.

“Damage report.”

“Acting.”

Mirror
fired again, slashing across the starboard wing of the center cruiser. The scar glowed yellow, then white as the fuel plant began to burn: but the warp nacelle did not separate. Klingon cruisers were larger, stronger, than Rom Warbirds.

More shots came past.
Mirror
was hit again. “Engineer, that report?”

“Crew’s quarters hit. Engineering, some damage.”

“Special assemblies?”

“No damage there.”

“Keep me informed. Weapons, repeat that last shot, target portside.”

Blue light cut into the cruiser’s other wing. “Maktai.”

“Captain?”

“I call for Security Option Two. Set for automatic destruct if we lose the Bridge.”

Maktai pushed buttons, took out his key and inserted it in the board, touched another set of controls. “Option set. Security password entered.”

“Kelly?”

“Executive’s password entered.”

Krenn worked his armrest console. “Captain’s password entered. Option in force.” There was a sound of weapon-shield harmonics, and curves bent on the Engineer’s displays.

The Engineer stood. “I’d better get aft. If we lose any more intercooler capacity, I’ll have to switch out a main, or we’ll melt.”

“Do it,” Krenn said, and turned to the Helmsman.
“Zan
Klimor, I want
this.”
His finger traced across the board. “Gunner, precision fire.”

Mirror
rolled again, sideslipped vertically past the lead D-4.
“Action.”

Light lanced from each ship to the other.
Mirror
trembled. On the other ship’s forward pod, the Bridge deck exploded in a crown of fire. “Hit to our flight deck,” Specialist Antaan said. “We were decompressed already: no explosion.”

Dr. Tagore said clearly, “And if that ship had been set to destruct as we are?”

“Then we would all go to the Black Fleet together,” Krenn said, not annoyed. Humans met Death too late in their lives. In many senses. “Is this not an acceptable outcome?
Zan
Kepool, pressors on the
khex,
before their second Bridge can assume control.”

“Acting, Captain,” the Navigator said.

The damaged ship began to drift, slowly on pressor thrust toward the other two. They continued to fire past it, then through it.

“Kai kassai, klingoni,”
Krenn said. “Gunner, two projections on the far cruiser. Your discretion.”

The other Captain broke high, to avoid drifting hulk.
Mirror
’s disruptors found its ventral surface: there was light, and violent out-gassing, and the wound released cargo modules into space, some of them glowing with incident heat. Then the modules began exploding.

“That’s bombardment ordnance, Captain,” the Gunner said. There was an eruption inside the holed ship, and she shook from wingtip to wingtip.

Maktai said, “You were right. They didn’t intend to capture the colony.”

“What great glory that would have been, raining bombs,” Krenn said, finally angry. “What a prize. I told Kian he was wrong.”

“Captain,” Antaan said, “
Fury
’s shields are dropping.”

“Is he surrendering?” Dr. Tagore said.

Krenn turned. “This one would not.
Boost
—”

The center ship, Kian’s torn-winged cruiser, fired all its disruptors at once, six blue lightnings at
Mirror
. The display darkened with light-overload.

Fire arced around
Mirror
’s bridge, and every light went out. Someone cursed, in
klingonaase;
Krenn could not tell who. But it was a male voice.

The consoles lit again, then the dim red emergency lighting. Krenn felt lancing pain in his left leg, looked down: one of the repeater screens in the Chair near his boot had shattered, fragments ripping his trouser leg and the skin beneath. He looked around: there were small cuts and burns, no one seemed seriously hurt. Kelly was injured slightly as well, but that was all right; now they could mend her.