“What servant of Gre’thorhas Fek’lhrunleashed upon us now?” he asked aloud, but the night swallowed his question whole.
27
“Report!”
On the bridge of the imperial cruiser Zin’za,Captain Kutal snarled the order, shouting to be heard over the dull drone of the alert klaxon. Gripping the armrests of his chair with his massive hands, he felt the deck still heaving beneath his heavy boots as his helmsman fought to bring the ship back under some semblance of control.
Over his right shoulder, sparks erupted from the communications console, sending the officer manning that station stumbling backward with his arms thrown up to protect his face. Acrid smoke tinged the already warm air, and the taste of burned insulation and wiring coated his tongue. All around him, consoles blinked and flickered in concert with the compromised overhead lighting, telling Kutal that the ship’s main power systems were suffering in the wake of the massive, unexpected attack on his vessel.
“It is a planet-based weapons system!” was the shouted report from his tactical officer, Lieutenant Tonar. “The attack was launched from four of the locations where we detected the unexplained power readings.”
Of course. Kutal cursed his lack of foresight as he studied the green-brown ball that was the lush world of Palgrenax, rotating before him on the bridge’s main viewscreen. Tonar had first detected power sources coming online from sixteen separate locations on the planet’s largest continent—each of them situated far beneath the surface—less than a kilaanbefore. Each of the locations appeared to be receiving its power via geothermal vents carved from the bowels of the planet and channeled to what Tonar had identified as massive generation and distribution venues. The technology was unlike anything on record, and estimates of the equipment’s age placed it as being older than most explored civilizations in this quadrant of the explored galaxy.
And yet, it works,Kutal mused. It was not lost on him that at least seven of the locations corresponded to sites that Dr. Terath determined featured examples of the ancient structures and technology which had so drawn her interest.
“The energy discharged from those locations combined into one beam for a single strike,” Tonar continued. “If our shields had been down, we might be crippled now.”
And those other twelve power readings might be weapons stations, as well.
“Move the ship to a higher orbit,” Kutal ordered his helmsman. “Route power from nonessential systems to the shields.” He knew he did not have to elaborate as he spoke the words. The Zin’za’s chief engineer would take the directive at face value, channeling energy from every shipboard system save weapons—including life-support—to strengthen the vessel’s defenses. Of Tonar, he asked, “What about those other sites? Are they a danger?”
His large hands playing over the tactical console that seemed too small to accommodate his oversized, muscled physique, Tonar consulted an array of status monitors. “I do not believe so, Captain. They are not showing power readings on the same scale as the locations which combined to attack us. However, the original four sites appear to be cycling through their earlier power levels and internal temperatures are rising.” Turning to Kutal, he added, “They may be preparing to fire again.”
Kutal shook his head in mounting anger. “What has Morqla released from the depths of that cursed rock?”
The governor’s harried, fragmented report had offered little in the way of useful information. At first confronted by the brazen, if ultimately futile, series of raids and disruptions set into motion by segments of the planet’s native inhabitants, Morqla and his garrison apparently had been forced to direct their efforts and focus to a new, more powerful threat, with numbers of his warriors facing off against mysterious humanoid figures that seemed more like wraiths or apparitions than physical beings. More surprising to Kutal even than this outlandish account were the claims that Morqla’s troops were being bested by a mere handful of these creatures, with the unknown assailants taking on and killing dozens of Klingon soldiers.
The very notion is as obscene as it is absurd. Kutal felt his jaw clench and his jagged teeth grind in frustration as the thought coalesced, knowing even as it did so that his brusque dismissal of the notion was incorrect. Morqla, despite his many flaws, was not given to flights of fancy or irrationality. His report, coupled with the happenings beneath the planet’s surface and the attack on the Zin’za,told Kutal everything he needed to know about just how serious the situation was in danger of becoming.
“Damage reports are coming in now, Captain,” said Lieutenant Kreq, his communications officer, who had taken the initiative to transfer the functions of his regular station to one of the smaller, backup consoles at the back of the bridge. “There is a coolant leak in weapons control, and engineering reports that antimatter containment has been weakened. He may have to take the warp engines offline.”
Kutal growled in dissatisfaction, shaking his head in disgust as he considered the idiot currently serving as the Zin’za’s chief engineer. “Tell him if he does that, I’ll personally see to it that he’s ground up and fed to the jeghpu’wI’on the planet.” Had the fool never seen combat? To even suggest that the ship deliberately be deprived of its primary power systems at such a time was ignorance at best, and treasonous at worst.
He made a note to execute the engineer at the earliest possible opportunity. For now, there were other matters to consider.
“So, it seems this planet has more to offer than even the High Command first realized,” Kutal said to no one in particular as the annoying, wailing alarm finally was silenced. Illumination on the bridge was now a deep red in keeping with the ship’s heightened alert level, and a quick glance to the tactical station along the left bulkhead told him that the Zin’za’s deflector shields were still up, though their strength had been weakened by the unexpected attack from the planet’s surface.
Naturally, he should have suspected something untoward the moment Tonar reported weapons fire coming from the settlement where Governor Morqla had elected to establish headquarters for his planetary occupation. The activation of the power source—located beneath the same village where Dr. Terath had been concentrating her research since her arrival—seemed to be an additional warning he should have heeded.
Hindsight is a crutch for politicians,he reminded himself, and warriors unable to adapt to the flow of battle.
Turning to his tactical officer, Kutal said, “Target those locations and stand by weapons.” His brow furrowing, he added, “Was one of the sites beneath Morqla’s headquarters?”
The tactical officer shook his head, the gesture causing his long, wild hair to twist about his broad shoulders. “No, Captain.”
“A pity,” Kutal replied. He possessed little respect for the governor, Terath, or any of her ilk. It might have been nice to eliminate two problems with a single strike. “What caused those power generations? Was it Terath?”
“Unknown,” Tonar replied. “I’m not able to establish contact with the research team or Governor Morqla.”