Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
As Acton and Sanders slipped through the compound on Zavras' surface, the former's trepidation only continued to grow, though not because of what they were trying to accomplish, but how easy it been so far. Though the camp was once a bustling military base when the Manta first landed on the planet, now it was almost deserted save the occasional patrol, which Acton and Sanders bypassed with ease despite their physical injuries. Something didn't feel right, but at least Acton took solace in the sight of the upswept wings of the bird of prey that was still landed at the base. He also took solace in the fact that much of the compound was obscured in a fog, likely due to the humidity of a recently passing rainstorm.
After ducking and weaving around abandoned barracks and random cargo containers, the duo reached the edge of the makeshift landing platform where the signature Klingon ship was sitting. Acton, with his single hand that tightly gripped his purloined disruptor, motioned for Sanders to duck behind another crate in order to plan their next move. Unfortunately, when Acton asked if Sanders knew how to operate a Klingon vessel before they slipped out of the detention center, he didn't give a response.
"Now what?" Sanders whispered.
For a moment, Acton regretted not aiming a little higher when he shot him. "We make our way to the bridge and get the hell off this planet."
"What makes you think we can simply waltz onto a bird of prey?" he asked. "Something tells me that they're not about to..."
"Take a look around," Acton interrupted harshly, though he wasn't sure if he entirely believed what he was trying to convince Sanders of. "How many guards have we seen? Three? Face it; whatever J'Dak's been planning is about to go down and this is the best chance for us to leave."
"For all you know, there could be a hundred Klingons on that ship," Sanders pointed out.
"Just so long as they're not between us and the bridge," Acton said as he rose up to continue onward towards the bird of prey, whose main hatch was open and gangplank was extended. Fortunately for him, Sanders didn't require any further encouragement to follow him. Though risky, Acton decided to throw caution to the proverbial wind and sprint towards the rear of the bird of prey. For a moment he worried that his missing eye and lack of depth perception would cause him to trip or accidentally run into the supports of the gangplank. Thankfully, he did not.
He slowed his pace down once he reached the gangplank so as not to much noise as he walked on the metal surface of the floor. Cautiously, he stepped into the ship, his disruptor at the ready. Just based on how the bird of prey was configured when looking at its exterior, Acton believed that the bridge would be directly ahead of them. Upon stepping inside, he could see that the ship wasn't in the best states of repair, with panels left exposed and cables dangling here and there. Considering the age of this basic design of warship, the bird of prey that Acton was intent on stealing could be over a hundred years old. Though some might have valued a vessel of such a lengthy vintage as a classic, the Starfleet officer suddenly worried about the chances of the hull crumbling due to its age.
On the other hand, the bird of prey appeared to be as vacant as the rest of the camp. Both Sanders and Acton passed through the cargo and engineering spaces without hearing or seeing any signs that it was occupied. Even some of the lights in the ship's corridors were powered down. After passing through a length of narrow corridor that led past some type of control area that the Klingonese-illiterate Acton couldn't figure out what was for, they reached a closed door, likely to the bridge.
When the door refused to automatically open, Acton naturally reached for the controls to the side of it, though momentarily forgetting that his right hand was now gone. Groaning to himself, Acton jabbed the larger button on the panel with the severed metallic protrusion jutting out of the remains of his prosthetic arm. It appeared that J'Dak's forces hadn't set up a capable locking mechanism (such as one that read fingerprints), as the door dutifully opened at the barest of touches. Acton quickly raised his disruptor as the doors opened quite loudly revealing the bridge, though the sound of their opening was quickly drowned out by one of the loudest droning noises he had ever heard before in his life.
"What the hell is that?" Sanders asked in a low voice.
"Sounds kind of like...snoring," Acton remarked. The bridge of the bird of prey was of a standard Klingon design, with most of the main stations save a pair situated behind the captain's throne. It was in that throne that Acton immediately spotted the source of all the noise; apparently the lone soldier assigned to guard the ship was taking a nap in the captain's seat. "Wait here."
"What are you...?" Sanders started to protest quietly as Acton walked up behind the slumbering Klingon and firing a quick shot with his disruptor to the back of his head, promptly cutting off the snoring. "Why?"
"I don't like stowaways," Acton said as he shoved the now deceased Klingon out of the chair. "What are you waiting for? Get this turkey started!"
"Which one of us is in command here?" half-muttered Sanders under his breath. He then started to look around the bridge with a look of confusion and bewilderment on his face. "If I were the engineering console, where would I be?"
"You mean you can't tell?" Acton asked.
"I don't read Klingon and I don't have one of your Universal Translation gadgets!" he replied in frustration as he threw up his hands. He glanced around again, but then fixed that gaze at a station along the starboard bulkhead. Sanders quickly ran over to it and closely examined the screens, tracing them with his left index finger. "That looks like an antimatter inducer...that's a plasma injector control...this is it!"
"How long will it take to power up?" the security officer asked.
"A few minutes, assuming I don't push the wrong buttons," Sanders said as he started to go to work. Acton started to hear the bird of prey's reactors start to power up, and if he could hear them, so could the soldiers still at the base.
Acton sprinted off the bridge and headed towards the rear of the ship where the gangplank was. To see if they had attracted any attention, he walked down to the bottom of the plank, right under the main impulse engine that started to glow. For a moment, it appeared that the landing pad was deserted, however two Klingon soldiers ran out of the mist along the perimeter and started to fire their disruptor rifles.
"Oh shit!" he cursed as several of the shots sailed past his head. As he returned fire behind him, he sprinted back up the gangplank and smashed his elbow against the control to close it. He waited for the hatch to close before he started to head back to the bridge, though he could hear more disruptor fire strike the hull.
Upon his return to the bridge, he saw that Sanders was scrambling back and forth between several consoles. Once or twice, he'd stop and run his fingers through his hair, as if he didn't know what button to press. That's reassuring. "Well?"
"Don't rush me!" Sanders barked. "Powering up a warp core ain't like flushin' a toilet, especially when you don't know how to do it."
"We've got company at the door," Acton stated. "And they'll be the least of our problems if there's still any ships in orbit."
"Hold your horses," he said in a low voice. "Okay, I've got thrusters. Time to get the hell out of Dodge."
"Are all the systems online?" asked Acton as he jumped into the captain's throne.
"Not exactly," Sanders said as the entire ship started to rumble. Unfortunately for Acton, one of the systems that was "not exactly" powered up was the viewscreen so he couldn't tell what was going on. "Where the hell are the landing gear?"
"What about the shields?" Acton asked. "Or the cloaking device?"
"One thing at a time, goddammit!" Sanders yelled. "Okay, gear up. Engaging impulse engines."
"Did you..." the Starfleet officer started to say before he felt himself slammed into his seat. The inertia was pinning him in place. "...power up the IDF?"
"I only have two hands, Shaggy," Sanders grunted. After a second, the pressure eased up. "All right, warp core's nearing full-power line-up...uh oh."
"What uh oh?" Acton asked as he sprung out of the captain's chair and headed to the rear stations.
"Hang on, let me figure out how to turn on the screen," Sanders said as he started to press several controls. Acton glanced towards the front of the bridge where the viewscreen flickered on to reveal what had caused all the concern. It was J'Dak's flagship in orbit, now bearing down on them as the bird of prey started to leave Zavras' atmosphere. "Okay, now what?"
"Shields!" Acton barked as the Vor'cha-class attack cruiser started to fire its disruptors. Its first salvo missed, but Acton didn't want to take any chances. "Take evasive action!"
"I'm still trying to get the warp drive online, genius," Sanders said. "You take the helm!"
"Right," he stated as he walked over to the station that Sanders had been using to pilot the ship. Though written in Klingon, the controls did have a recognizable pitch, roll, and yaw interface similar to that aboard Starfleet vessels. With the cruiser continuing to close, likely to tractor beam them, Acton decided to take the bird of prey over J'Dak's ship. However, instead of going "up," the nose of the bird of prey pitched down when Acton pressed the corresponding control. "What the?"
"Oh yeah, the Klingons apparently have backwards pitch controls; sorry about that," explained Sanders. Acton finally righted the bird of prey and started to rapidly pass over the hull of the Vor'cha. "Shields up..."
And it wasn't a moment too soon as the bird of prey took a hit from the attack cruiser's disruptors. Acton brought the ship to port, hoping to stay along the lateral edge of J'Dak's ship, which should have put them out of the firing radius of the ship's heavier weapons. "What about the warp drive?"
"I'm using most of our power to keep the shields going," Sanders said. "And if you want to cloak, we'll need more..."
"Cloak first," Acton suggested, which sounded more like an order. Without the cloaking device, the more powerful attack cruiser would easily overtake and destroy the antiquated stolen ship. He brought it around again to fake making an attack run on the starboard side of the Vor'cha, however J'Dak appeared to be anticipating it since the cruiser was also turning towards them, bringing its heavier disruptors and torpedo launchers to bear. "Uh, scratch that..."
"Make up your damn mind!" Sanders yelled just as the cruiser opened fire again, though again only with disruptors. "We're losing shields!"
"Hit the cloaking device on my order," Acton said. They continued to close on the bridge structure on top of the cruiser, so much so that Acton hoped that J'Dak would think they were on a collision course.
"Oh hell no," Sanders remarked. "You do know that we're going to hit them, right?"
"Wait for it," he said, ignoring the question. "Now!"
"Activating cloak," Sanders reported as Acton threw the helm hard over to avoid slamming into the bridge.
"Can they still see us?" Acton asked. Cloaking devices, especially older ones, weren't entirely foolproof and could be detected by more advanced vessels.
"Let's not stick around to find out," said Sanders. "Warp drive's online. Where to now, Chief?"
"Anywhere but here," he replied as he backed away from the helm. Sanders quickly took over and started to plot a course, albeit rather slowly on the Klingon equipment. Acton found a chair to drop into as his body started to shut down after riding through all the excitement on pure adrenaline. He leaned back, closed his remaining eye, and quickly dozed off.
Captain's Log: Supplemental
Before the Yorktown could join in the search, the starship Andes located the wreck of the Justice, the victim of an apparent ambush. There were no survivors. With recovery efforts and investigations underway already, Admiral Pujols has ordered us back to our patrol route along the Romulan frontier. In a matter of weeks, we'll be on our way back to Earth and perhaps put all of this behind us...
"Phaser overload!" exclaimed Helmsman Hikaru Sulu (or a reasonable holographic facsimile thereof) on the bridge of the old and arguably classic starship Enterprise. Even though it had been awhile since Kincade "played" this particular holodeck simulation, so he should have predicted the occurrence. Then again, if I knew everything that was supposed to happen, then where would be the fun in it? "Control circuit burnout."
"Damn," Kincade muttered under his breath from the captain's chair, the same spot where the legendary James T. Kirk once held court. The late captain had been in this exact situation over a century ago, commanding the Enterprise against a surprise Romulan attack along the Neutral Zone. Out of the corner of his eye, Kincade could see Mr. Spock drop down from his science station to tear open an access panel where the offending circuit was smoldering. He reached inside and patted out the fire with his bare hand. Definitely has more guts than I would in his place.
"It'll take time to correct, sir," Spock, who at this point in history was the Enterprise's first and science officer as opposed to the influential ambassador at large that he was in Kincade's era. Unfortunately, that failure in the ship's phasers was one of the old Constitution-class' Achilles heels, compounded by the fact that the ship had expended its compliment of photon torpedoes over the past several missions. Unfortunately, the Enterprise had been called to investigate the mysterious attacks on the old Earth Starfleet installations along the Neutral Zone before it could put in to a starbase or rendezvous with a tender ship to be re-supplied. All they had to use against the Romulan warship was phasers set to proximity fire, which put a great deal of strain on the system to the point where such an overload was to be expected.
"Captain, are they surrendering?" Sulu asked just as Kincade's attention turned back to the main viewscreen. The sleek yet primitive Romulan warbird that had obliterated several outposts de-cloaked once more and since the captain of the Yorktown knew this simulation too well, he knew that the future Captain Sulu of the Excelsior was dead wrong on this occasion.
"Full astern!" Kincade barked just as the Romulan ship fired off another glowing orange plasma torpedo. "Emergency warp speed!"
Based on his experience as a starship captain in battle against the Romulans, he knew the weakness of the plasma torpedo lied in its limited range. In the 24th Century, the plasma torpedo was primarily used as a strike weapon against installations and planetary targets; modern starships could easily outmaneuver and outrun such slow shots with little trouble. However, though the first Federation starship Enterprise was unequaled in fame and recognition, she still didn't hold a candle to modern vessels like the Sovereign-class Yorktown in terms of combat capability. The plasma torpedo continued to grow ominously on the screen even as the warbird that fired it disappeared once more.
"Come on, come on," Kincade urged, though his voice was drowned out by the warp drive. He had first been exposed to these holosimulations of the exploits of the old Enterprise by his father, who for one of the younger Kincade's birthdays scheduled a few hours in a public holodeck to partake in some one hundred of the more famous missions of James T. Kirk. Though some of them were far more contentious and death-defying, Kincade always found himself drifting back to this particular mission whenever he had the time to revisit it. So pivotal was this encounter that Starfleet Academy adapted variations of this scenario for its simulator missions given to prospective command cadets. When the thinly-disguised recreation was held for Cadet Kincade, he saw right through it and excelled at it.
"Full power, sir," Sulu said, obeying a prewritten script in the program. Though the holodeck computer allowed for many deviations from established history, there were certain events and lines that couldn't be circumvented, such as the speeches by Dr. Leonard McCoy and the Romulan commander. "You and I are of a kind...In a different reality, I could've called you friend." Was that why Kincade was so drawn to this program at a time like this? He had initially come to the holodeck to blow off some steam after learning of the loss of the Justice and since Michelle didn't seem to want to have an extravagant dinner at this late hour. Though the breaking of another dinner date was one thing, his mind was now preoccupied with exactly why he had punched up this particular scenario when he entered the bare holodeck an hour ago. "It's still overtaking us."
"Captain, shall I update the ship's log buoy?" asked a crewman in a red shirt who walked up to Kincade carrying some kind of antique (by his standards) recorder.
"Fine," Kincade said, noting the pessimism in the hologram's voice.
"Sir, shall I..." interrupted another person, this time a female, though Kincade waived off her inquiry with a gesture of his hand. Though the nuances and attention to detail were eye-catching, Kincade had to focus on the problem at hand.
"If we can get one phaser working, sir; one shot would detonate it," Sulu commented.
"Maybe," remarked Kincade, though he never had the opportunity to test that theory out in real life. However, even as his simulated starship was about to be struck by the plasma torpedo, Kincade reflected upon the poignant line by the still-anonymous Romulan commander who launched the attack against the Neutral Zone outposts. In hindsight, his remarks could have easily come from Thraketh or Relek; if not for the Federation's decision to try to talk the ambassador out of his planned coup against Tal'Aura, they might have remained friends after all of this. Is this why I'm so drawn to this simulation again? Displaced guilt?
"Estimate it'll overtake us in two minutes, sir," reported Lieutenant Stiles, ship's navigator, a position that was obsolete on modern starships. The somewhat bigoted officer (whose distrust of Romulans, Vulcans, and Mr. Spock varied with how the "player" chose to address it during the simulation) came from the famous Stiles family, known for over two hundred years of Starfleet service, like the Paris' and Hawthornes. His anger wouldn't be exclusive; once word that the Romulans were an off-shoot of the Vulcans became general knowledge in the Federation, a lot of people who recalled the Earth-Romulan War would express deep mistrust of one of the founding members of the Federation.
"Mr. Spock, can you get the phasers back online?" Kincade asked. He could almost kick himself for falling into the Romulan's trap in spite of how well he knew this particular scenario. As James T. Kirk once thought a hundred years ago, Kincade hoped to set up an ambush against the warbird as it passed through the tail of the Icarus IV comet under cloak. Instead, the cunning Romulan doubled back on him, forcing Kincade to lay down blind phaser fire in the vain hope of striking the warbird. Had he photon or quantum torpedoes at his disposal, he might have succeeded.
"Impossible, Captain," Spock answered with emphasis, almost boldly betraying his human heritage. Though the holodeck program followed history, depending on the difficulty setting, it was still possible for the player to lose. Unlike one of Kincade's other favorite programs which involved an automated planet-killing machine, the adversary here could adapt to Kincade's tactics. If he had been keeping score all these years, he wouldn't be surprised to find out that he had probably lost as many times as he had won.
"Ten seconds to impact," said Sulu, but even then, the plasma torpedo appeared to thin, as if it were a fire that was starting to burn out. "Captain! Dissipating, sir!"
"It must have a range limit!" Stiles concluded excitedly, though it wouldn't dissipate fast enough to prevent the Enterprise from taking damage.
"Five...four...three..." Sulu counted down. "Two...one...impact!"
Though the holodeck safeties were on, Kincade and the entire bridge crew were tossed about when the weakened plasma torpedo struck the Enterprise. Kincade and Kirk's yeoman were thrown against the red railing that surrounded the inner section of the main bridge. Lights flashed and flickered, and while it could have been far worse (and the Yorktown had taken worse blows in her day), Kincade was still mad at himself for forgetting to watch for the Romulan commander's maneuver. Had he had been that lax given with foreknowledge about the outcome of a battle with the Yorktown, he could have easily lost the ship. There's a cloud to every silver lining.
"Phasers operational, Captain," announced Spock as he sealed the access trunk and returned to his station. The Vulcan leaned towards the sensor scope on his station to take more exact readings. "Intruder bearing...one-eleven mark fourteen."
"Of course he is," Kincade muttered to himself. That course was what a Romulan commander would take back towards Romulus. Once again, Kincade's holographic adversary appeared to think he had defeated his pursuer and behaved accordingly.
"He may think we're destroyed, Captain," Spock added, confirming Kincade's supposition. The old model of Romulan cloaking device partially worked both ways; while it obscured a warbird from enemy sensors, it also clouded the Romulan ship's sensors. Such a weakness was exploitable. Shame they fixed that flaw.
"He might not," Kincade conceded, thinking to himself for a moment. Part of the fun of this program was trying to come up with new ways of beating the Romulan commander, to alter the outcome in history in a way better than what Kirk thought of. The trouble was that it wasn't as easy as that. "He may be baiting us again..."
"Medical report, Captain," interrupted ship's surgeon Dr. Leonard McCoy, who must have slipped onto the bridge when Kincade wasn't paying attention. I need to get my head back in the game. "Damage caused a radiation leak on two decks, both under control. Casualties are minimal, but there are some serious burns."
"Thanks, Bones," Kincade said absently, trying to come up with some way to thwart the Romulan commander before it was too late.
"We'll enter the Neutral Zone in one minute, sir," reported Stiles. It occurred to Kincade that in a matter of months, the Romulan Neutral Zone might become a relic of the past like the old Enterprise.
"Do we violate the treaty, Captain?" asked McCoy. It occurred to Kincade just then that Kirk's "Bones" behaved very much like Kincade's "Bones," acting as a sort of moral compass in a time of crisis.
"They did, Doctor," Spock countered, displaying the now-famous friendly rivalry between the half-Vulcan officer and the "simple country doctor."
"Once inside, they can claim we did," McCoy argued. "A setup. They want war, we furnish the provocation."
"We're still on our side, Captain," added Spock, though the doctor had brought up a good point, added to the hindsight that benefited Kincade. Historically, the Romulans never committed the first strike, at least at full power. They tested, they provoked; it was how they sparked the original Earth-Romulan War and how they had approached every other encounter since. They wanted to gauge their opponents ability to respond before showing their real hand. I wonder if this is what Thraketh was trying to figure out with his offer, to see what our intentions were and how'd react to another coup.
"That we are, Mr. Spock," he said. However, as many times as he tried over the years, he couldn't stop the Romulan ship before it crossed the Neutral Zone. It was a challenge he had repeatedly tried to overcome over the years. "Ahead maximum warp. Stand by on phasers."
"Sir, at this distance?" Stiles asked skeptically.
"They can't shoot while cloaked and they're slower than dogshit with that ion drive of theirs," Kincade replied. According to Starfleet Intelligence, the Romulans did not utilize advanced power systems, such as matter/antimatter reactors or the more modern quantum singularity cores, until after the Romulans briefly allied with the Klingon Empire. "We still have them on sensors, don't we?"
"A phaser hit at this distance would be the wildest stroke of luck!" protested the navigator. Never liked him, anyway.
"Sometimes you have to roll the hard six, Lieutenant," the captain countered. "Lock phasers, prepare to fire on my command."
"Phasers show ready, sir," said Stiles.
"Fire," Kincade ordered. Blue bursts of phaser fire streaked out towards the black space where the Romulan ship was supposed to be. On proximity fire, the bursts "detonated" after reaching a certain range, much like an ancient naval depth charge. Unfortunately, all the shots missed. Dammit. Perhaps if the Romulan hadn't outwitted Kincade near the Icarus comet, he might have been able to stop the Romulans before they crossed into the Neutral Zone.
"Twenty seconds to Neutral Zone," reported Stiles. The nameless Romulan ship captain had him once more.
"Uhura, contact Starfleet Command," Kincade ordered to the ship's communication's officer. "Tell them that it's in my opinion that there's no choice but to pursue the invading Romulan ship back across the Neutral Zone. Mr. Sulu, steady as she goes."
"Interesting choice, Jack," remarked a familiar voice that was obviously foreign to this program. Kincade whipped his head around and saw Wallace standing in front of the bridge turbolift. Since the captain never heard him enter the holodeck, Kincade assumed that Wallace entered in another part of the simulation and rode the holographic turbolift up to the equally holographic bridge. "Never figure you'd violate the Neutral Zone, at least not anymore."
"Computer, freeze program," Kincade ordered, which stopped the entire bridge crew in their tracks, though for some reason the background noises continued to sound. Turning away from Wallace, the captain then asked, "How'd you get in here?"
"When you told security to restrict my movements, you didn't say anything about public places," Wallace replied. "Plus, you seem to have the odd habit that I once did, where we never bother to lock the holodeck doors. Why is that, do you think?"
"I frankly don't care," the captain said under his breath.
"Maybe," his old mentor started to say as he walked down the steps into the central area of the bridge to the right of the captain's chair, opposite of where the frozen hologram of Spock was standing, "maybe it's because our lives in this job are so lonely. We hardly have any time to socialize with the crew, so we always leave the backdoor open in case anyone drops by."
"Is that what this is?" Kincade asked bitterly. "Dropping by?"
"I wanted to offer my condolences on Mr. Acton's death," Wallace explained. "If memory serves, I was the one who recommended him to you after hearing about that thwarted bombing plot at our occupation headquarters on Chin'toka III by the Jem'Hadar."
"He was a good man," the captain noted bitterly. No, that's why I'm in here; to escape all this.
"I've been made aware that you and he didn't part on the best of terms," added Wallace, "that your decision at Zavras last year alienated him and that maybe right now you're feeling a little guilty."
"What's it to you?" Kincade asked harshly, though he probably shouldn't have been surprised that Wallace knew what had happened back then.
"I know why you put on that gold uniform and come in here so often," he answered, referring to the holographic costume of James T. Kirk's old uniform projected on top of Kincade's. "You've tried to live your life by Kirk's example, right? You've always done what you've thought was right and ethical, regardless of orders and rules. But when are you going to learn that it doesn't always work out like that? Kirk did as he pleased and his crew stuck by him for nearly thirty years. You can't rationally expect that same kind of loyalty, not when you're taking the same kind of risks and making the same kind of tough decisions you had. You're going to make people angry and while it's only a coincidence that Acton's now dead, you can't blame yourself for..."
"For what?" the captain interrupted as he stood up from Kirk's chair. "You're one to talk about making tough decisions that alienate people."
"You want to know the truth, Jack?" Wallace barked. "If I had to make the same choice I had to four years ago, I would...I'm just not sure I'd get you involve. I regret doing that to you and your crew and I regret what I said to you before you arrested me. I was hoping that we could eventually..."
"Forget it," Kincade said as he marched towards the turbolift. "We'll be rendezvousing with the Marathon again in an hour, so I suggest you start packing."
"Jack, wait..." Wallace started to protest even as Kincade entered the holographic turbolift (which seemed odd, since one would have thought that with the program frozen, the doors to the turbolift wouldn't have worked). Kincade grabbed onto the throttle that manually operated the 'lift car and tore it right out of the wall with one strong tug.
Who the hell does he think he is coming on my ship and into my holodeck program to try that crap? Apologies aren't going to cut it...
