Besides, based on the damage, it was quite possible that some life signs were unreadable. That,Rozhenko thought grimly, is, at least, as good a rationalization as any.
For his part, the chief went over to look at the generators to see if he could coax some life into them. It wasn’t quite his specialty, but Tobias, the chief engineer, had made it clear that everyone was to pitch in on this one. The attack on Khitomer was even worse than the one on Narendra III two years earlier—totally unprovoked, and leaving an estimated four thousand dead. I think I like Romulans better when they are quiet,Rozhenko thought.
He examined one of the consoles, stepping over the bodies of two Klingons, a man and a woman. The man was missing most of his head; the woman was wearing something that looked to Rozhenko like a martial arts gi.A third corpse lay on the ground across the room. All three were obviously the victims of gunfire.
The console was functioning, barely. Rozhenko examined it, and saw that several key components had been destroyed—and several more had been removed altogether. A saboteur, perhaps? Or the work of whoever killed these three?Many of the interfaces were also burned with what the tricorder identified as residue from an energy weapon—specifically a disruptor. That meant Klingon—unlikely, given that it was their base—Breen—unlikely due to Khitomer’s rather distant location from the Breen Confederacy—or Romulan—extremely likely, since the Intrepid’s sensors picked up ships whose configuration matched those of the ships that attacked Narendra III. To Tobias, he said, “Sir, it would seem that the Romulans beamed down ground troops.”
“To finish the job, maybe?” one of the other engineers said with disgust. “Can’t believe that even the Romulans would do this.”
“Unfortunately,” Tobias said with a long sigh, “the evidence is pointing that way. Hell, that’s allwe need.” He looked at Rozhenko. “What about the generator?”
“It is functioning at minimal output. There is no way to repair it without replacement parts, and there is little we have on the Intrepidthat would do the job. I doubt it will function for much longer.”
“How long?”
Rozhenko considered. “Two hours.”
“Enough time for us to search for survivors, then. With luck, some actual Klingons will show up by then, and theycan figure out whether to salvage the base or scrap it.” He looked at the rest of the team. “Scan for life signs. We’re not leaving anyonebehind to die here.”
Adjusting his tricorder to scan solely for Klingon life signs, Rozhenko was surprised to find two indications. “Lieutenant! I am picking up two Klingons, directly below us!”
“You two, stay here,” Tobias said to the rest of the team as he ran toward the exit. “You’re with me, Chief.”
They went into the hallway and searched for some kind of access to anything that might be below them. Setting his tricorder to examine the signs on the doors and translate them, Rozhenko found that one of them said SUB-BASEMENT right over a rectangular seam in the wall that could easily have been a hatch. “Sir, over here.”
Despite their years of training, the two engineers found themselves unable to determine which of the assorted buttons, levers, and switches on the door next to the sign actually would open the hatch—if hatch it truly was, as it had no handhold of any sort.
“This is ridiculous.” Tobias sighed, running a hand through his blond hair. “Let’s see if we can find another way down.”
Instead of responding, Rozhenko decided to test a theory. He placed his hand against the hatch.
It started to roll inward and then down, revealing a small vertical tubular shaft, just wide enough to accommodate one person, with a ladder on the back part.
Tobias regarded Rozhenko. “Chief, remind me, why did I bother spending four years at the Academy?”
Rozhenko smiled for the first time since beaming down to this charnel house. “That, Lieutenant, is one of many questions I ask myself every day. As soon as I have an answer, I promise to let you know.”
Shaking his head, Tobias climbed into the shaft and started down the ladder. Rozhenko followed the officer a moment later.
The ladder emptied into a relatively small room whose nature Rozhenko found himself unable to properly determine, as most of the floor was covered with parts of the ceiling—the latter had broken and fallen in many pieces, large and small, to the floor.
Panic welling in his gut, Rozhenko did a quick structural scan of the room, which verified what his eyes were telling him.
Before he could voice his concerns, Tobias said, “This room’s gonna collapse and take half the building with it in about fifteen minutes.”
“Twelve, according to the tricorder, sir.”
Tobias smirked. “That’swhy I went to the Academy, Chief—I’m not so dependent on gadgets. Trust me, this room’ll hold for three more minutes. Still, I’d rather not risk it. Let’s find our life signs and—”
He was interrupted by the sound of something moving. Rozhenko followed the noise to a small pile of rubble.
Then he noticed the tiny hand sticking out.
It must be a child!Rozhenko thought as he and Tobias ran over and started throwing pieces of debris off the hand, which soon revealed an arm, and then an entire body.
It was indeed a child, who clutched one of those Klingon swords for dear life. He was only a little bigger than Nikolai…
Tobias practically beat his chest, he hit his combadge so hard. “Tobias to Intrepid.”He then removed the combadge and placed it on the boy. “Medical emergency. Lock onto my signal, and beam directly to sickbay!”
“No…” That was the boy, who had somehow found the strength to speak. “Must…protect…Kahlest…”
Then the transporter beam took him to the Intrepid.
“Kahlest is probably the other life sign,” Rozhenko said.
“Let’s find her, then. We’ve only got ten minutes…”
Chapter 34
B’alda’ar Base
“There I was, on a planet full of grishnarcats. The only two of any consequence were a fierce one named Baroner and a Vulcan trader.”
Several of the Klingons listening to Captain Kor tell his tale in the midst of the dark, crowded bar made their disdain for Vulcans quite clear. From his seat at a table halfway across the bar, Dax smiled as his old friend silenced their grumbles. “Do not underestimate Vulcans! They can be a fierce and powerful force when provoked. They lull you into a false sense of security by being so insipidly bland,” the captain said with a grin, “but they have their moments.”
Kor, a mug of chech’tluthin one hand, started pacing in front of the bar. It, as well as the stools, railing, tables, and mugs, were all made of the same solid wood that derived from a tree native to this world. The wood had a complex grain and was as solid as many metals. The wood scent, combined with the alcohol, gave the bar a natural feel that most modern bars could not achieve—especially, Dax noted with a smile, in the Federation, where “antiseptic” was all too often the order of the day.