The Rings Of Tautee Page 3

  What awful days they must have been.

  There was a loud groaning sound, as if a billion ghosts had moaned at the same moment; then suddenly the Enterprise was rocked as if something huge had collided with it.

  Kirk went sprawling to the right. He quickly tucked his shoulder and rolled with the fall.

  Ensign York rolled past him and slammed into the wall.

  Kirk rolled once more and then caught himself quickly. He came up on one knee, holding on to the engineering console. “What’s happening?”

  “I am uncertain, Captain,” Spock shouted over the rumbling and moaning as he held on to his science console with one hand while punching in commands with the other.

  Sulu had been knocked from his chair, but had quickly regained it. His fingers were flying over the board in front of him, trying to stabilize the ship.

  Chekov had managed to stay in place and was studying his instruments while holding on.

  The shaking and all the noise subsided and Kirk stood slowly, straightening his shirt and brushing off the dust on his arm. Ensign York shook himself and stood carefully. Uhura picked up her chair, tugged on her skirt, and sat down, replacing the receiver in her ear as she bent over her console.

  “It seems,” Mr. Spock said slowly, “that the Enterprise was hit by an intense subspace disturbance.”

  “The same kind as the ones we picked up before?” Kirk kept a hand on his chair as he made his way to the science console. Two-dimensional oscillations showed up on the science computer screen. They obviously meant something to Spock, but Kirk had not seen them before.

  “The very same, sir,” Spock said, “Only this is a thousand times more intense.

  “Where’s it coming from?” Kirk understood the oscillations on the screen now. They were a representation of the disturbance, moving like ocean waves in space in ever-expanding rings from the Tautee system.

  Spock never took his eyes off the instruments in front of him. “I have yet to discover the origin of the disturbance.” His voice had a troubled sound to it.

  “Well, find it,” Kirk said. He stepped back toward his chair, and tapped the comm button for engineering. “Mister Scott. Any damage?”

  “Nothing to speak of, sir.” Scotty’s voice came back strong.

  “Keep me posted. Kirk out.” He looked up at the screen, at the damage floating in ever-widening rings where planets used to be. Whatever happened here was still happening. There was no doubt at all about that.

  “Sir, I am picking up a very faint radio distress signal,” Uhura said.

  Radio? Ancient technology. “Pinpoint it, Lieutenant,” Kirk said. He leaned against the arm of his chair. A distress signal. To what point? The survey team had said this was a pre-warp culture. Who was the distress signal meant for?

  “Mister Spock, I thought you said there was no chance of survivors.”

  “On the contrary, Captain,” Spock said, “I believe I said that it was unlikely there would be many survivors.”

  “Do you care to explain the distinction?”

  “The term ‘unlikely’ means that there is a chance someone did survive. However, an entire series of circumstances would have had to occur. The chances of those circumstances happening at this opportune time would be—”

  “Unlikely, yes, I know, Mister Spock.” Kirk shook his head and turned back to Uhura. “Can you pinpoint the signal?”

  “The distress signal is coming from a large asteroid in the debris of the fifth planet,” Uhura said.

  “Mister Spock, are you finding any signs of survivors in that area?”

  “I find it impossible to determine at this distance, Captain. But the asteroid is large enough to sustain a significant number of people. I am quite certain we have survivors there.”

  “Quite certain, Mister Spock?” Kirk didn’t want to hope without any reason. “And what is this certainty based on?”

  “The fact that the distress signal just started.” Spock quirked an eyebrow at him. Kirk got the uncanny feeling that Spock was making fun of him.

  Kirk rounded his chair and was about to order Sulu to take the Enterprise to that asteroid when Spock added, “However, I do not believe we should approach the asteroid. The subspace disturbances that appear to have broken these planets apart may possibly be more intense in that region. With that much planetary debris, the ship would not survive.”

  Kirk glanced at Spock, who was again monitoring the oscillations on his screen. “What do you suggest, Mister Spock?”

  “Holding on,” Spock said. “We are about to be hit by another subspace wave.”

  Almost before Kirk could grab his captain’s chair, the ship rocked and shuddered. As the lights flickered, he glanced around. This time, with Spock’s warning, the bridge crew were staying at their stations.

  As the wave passed and the lights came back up, McCoy’s voice came over the intercom. “You want to tell me what in blazes is going on? I have patients bouncing all over down here.”

  Kirk punched the comm button. “We’ll tell you just as soon as we know. For now, just hang on. Kirk out.”

  Mr. Chekov turned around. “Captain, we have company.”

  “On screen, Mister.”

  Kirk let go of the command chair and turned to face the main screen as the view of the destroyed planets disappeared and was replaced by four Klingon cruisers. They floated there as if they owned the space.

  “Red alert,” he ordered.

  As if they didn’t have enough problems already.

  Chapter Five

  CAPTAIN KELLY BOGLE stood in front of the main viewscreen on the U.S.S. Farragut. He had come out of warp at the edge of the Tautee system to find himself with two separate problems. The strange destruction of fifteen planets, and his sister ship, the U.S.S. Enterprise, surrounded by four Klingon cruisers.

  Bogle knew that Kirk could handle the four Klingon ships—he’d seen Kirk handle bigger problems—but Bogle didn’t like the implications. Four ships to one Federation vessel, a destroyed star system all around them.

  That special Klingon weapon he’d heard about must have been a doozy.

  He turned. His bridge crew was at their professional best, which meant they had been startled by the sudden turn of events just as he was.

  His helmsman, Diego Rodriguez, watched their course as if they were flying through an asteroid belt.

  The communications officer, Julie Gustavus, kept one hand to her ear as she monitored the intership communications.

  Several ensigns read nearby computer screens with great focus, as if their entire careers depended on it.

  While Kelly Bogle could match Jim Kirk drink for drink in any officer’s lounge in the galaxy, while he could play poker with equal skill, and while he could tell tall tales as well as any officer in the fleet, he did one thing differently: he dominated his ship. Bogle didn’t believe in the camaraderie that Kirk used to bind his people. Bogle did it with sheer determination, a quest for perfection, and rigid discipline.

  And it had worked for years.

  He would need all of that discipline right now.

  Bogle sat back and studied the situation for a moment. His main focus had to be the Enterprise. The systemwide disaster had developed over the course of days and possibly weeks. The Enterprise had only been in the sector a few minutes before the Farragut.

  That meant that the Klingons had been there first. They would have to deal with the Klingons first in return.

  “Any sign of hostilities?” Bogle asked.

  Commander Richard Lee glanced up from his science console. A shock of red hair fell over his forehead. Lee’s haircut was always too long, and his uniform always needed just a little extra attention, all items he’d been cited for many times before. But Bogle didn’t dare discipline him too hard. Lee was the best science officer that Bogle had ever worked with. The last thing he wanted to do was chase him away.

  “No hostilities yet, sir,” Lee said. “However, the Enterprise is at full alert
.” Lee glanced back down at his scope, then continued without looking back up. “So are the Klingons. I’d say something is going to happen any minute now.”

  Bogle nodded and turned to Rodriguez. “Move us into position right behind the Enterprise. Let’s let the Klingons know we’re here.”

  “Aye, sir,” he said.

  The rest of the crew continued their monitoring.

  Bogle sat in the captain’s chair, extending his long legs outward. Within a few moments, the Enterprise filled the screen with the four Klingon vessels beyond and above it.

  “Nice work, Ensign,” Bogle said.

  “We’re being hailed by the Enterprise,” Gustavus said.

  “On screen,” Bogle said, leaning back.

  Captain Kirk’s face filled the screen. He looked pale, and his hair was ruffled, as if he’d been running his hands through it. Not at all the smiling, relaxed Jim Kirk that Bogle was used to.

  Was it the Klingons?

  Or the system destruction itself? Bogle really hadn’t had time to absorb the system’s destruction or its meaning yet. He suspected he would have to do that in private.

  Then Kirk grinned, and Bogle saw the friend he had spent many a satisfying shore leave with. “Kelly, nice to have you with us.”

  “Good to be here, Jim,” Bogle said. He’d worked with Jim Kirk a number of times in the past and it had always been successful despite their different command methods. Kirk seemed to have an ability to come out on top. As far as Bogle was concerned, that was a great trait for a teammate to have.

  Someone spoke behind Kirk and his grin faded. “Tell your crew to hang on to something.” His voice was serious and very cold. “Now.”

  Bogle didn’t hesitate or even ask why. He grabbed the arms of his own captain’s chair, and then punched his intercom. “This is the captain. Find yourself something solid and hang on to it. We—”

  The ship moaned and then jolted backward.

  Bogle’s finger flew off the button, effectively ending the communications.

  The ship rattled and moaned like a sick teenager, first to one side and then the other. His officers twisted and leaned, but didn’t lose their places.

  He had only felt something like this once before—in a battle with the Bnez when he was an ensign. The Bnez had rammed his ship.

  Sparks flew from Commander Lee’s panel, but he just fanned the smoke away and continued working.

  Another hard jolt sent an ensign sprawling.

  “Intense subspace wave, sir,” Lee shouted over the rumbling and moaning. “It should be passing right about … now.”

  As Lee spoke, the shaking diminished and stopped. Silence descended over the bridge like a heavy blanket.

  Bogle tapped his comm button and hailed his chief engineer, Projeff Ellis. Ellis could lead a team of engineers through a desert and come out the other side with a pool full of water and a blonde swimming in it. “Pro, what’s the damage?”

  “None, sir.” The chiefs voice came back strong. “Just a few bruises and some wounded pride.”

  “Thanks,” Bogle said. He turned to Gustavus. She still clutched her console, her knuckles white with the strain. “Hail the Enterprise for me.”

  “There’s no need, sir,” she said. “They’re still on-screen.”

  Kirk’s hair looked even more tousled, and his cheeks were red, as if he’d been exerting himself. Bogle suspected he didn’t look much better.

  “That was some welcome,” Bogle said.

  “Thanks,” Kirk said, smiling. “Expect it every five-point-four minutes. This is a charming section of space.”

  “I’m gathering that,” Bogle said. He glanced at Lee, who nodded. Apparently his science officer’s assessment of the sector was the same as Kirk’s.

  Behind Kirk, Bogle heard a woman say, “Captain, we are being hailed by the Klingons.”

  Kirk nodded to Bogle. “I’ll patch this through to you. It should be interesting.”

  Bogle laughed. “Thanks.” The screen went blank.

  Everything with Kirk was always interesting. Never by the book, but always interesting.

  Chapter Six

  “PUT THE KLINGONS on screen,” Kirk said after Captain Bogle’s face disappeared. “And patch this through to the Farragut.”

  “Aye, sir,” Uhura said.

  Kirk rose so that he would face the Klingons head-on. He spread his feet slightly, his hands on his hips. He would let Bogle, an old friend, see the shock Kirk felt at the destruction of the entire section, but he would let the Klingons only see his anger.

  His very deep anger.

  But he did have to handle this well. There were possible survivors to think of.

  The rescue would be delicate at best.

  Impossible at worst.

  After a moment, Klingon Supreme Commander KerDaq appeared on the screen. He wore the standard Klingon military uniform, with two insignias near his right shoulder Kirk had never seen before. The lines and ridges in KerDaq’s face were more pronounced than those of most Klingons Kirk had met. He and KerDaq had crossed each other’s path only once before, without problems, at a Federation/Klingon conference. For a Klingon, KerDaq was reasonable. If he belonged to any other species, he would be considered truculent.

  Unfortunately, KerDaq was as good as Klingons got.

  “Captain Kirk,” KerDaq said, his speech slow and slightly accented. It was also tinged with sarcasm. “I should have known you’d be involved with this.”

  “A pleasure, as always, Commander,” Kirk said, not letting himself be baited. He knew Klingons. They always came on strong and didn’t respect weakness of any kind.

  “Save your pleasantries,” KerDaq said. “I do not discuss small things with people who would destroy an entire star system.”

  For a moment Kirk didn’t totally register what KerDaq had just said. Then it sunk in. KerDaq was blaming the Federation for this destruction. Kirk couldn’t let that stand.

  “If you believe that the Federation had something to do with the destruction of this system,” Kirk said, “you are wrong. Check your own records. We just arrived.”

  “A ploy,” KerDaq said.

  “Is it?” Kirk asked. “Or is this all a ploy on your part to cover your use of that secret weapon we’ve heard so much about?”

  KerDaq looked stunned for a moment; then his face colored. Before he could say anything, Mr. Spock said, “Another wave, Captain. Five seconds.”

  “I would suggest,” Kirk said to KerDaq, “that you hang on to something solid.”

  The subspace wave struck the Enterprise as Kirk sat down in his command chair and held on. The thin padding bounced against his already bruised back. He’d been on an old roller coaster back near San Francisco on Earth. This felt a lot like it, only with grinding and tearing sounds. For just a moment the lights dimmed, then they came back up strong.

  “Hold it together, Scotty,” Kirk said too softly for anyone to hear.

  On the screen Kirk saw KerDaq stumble as the wave hit, then grab on to one of the huge support pillars running through the Klingon bridge. He held on there, sneering at Kirk until the wave had passed, then let go.

  “Kirk,” he said, moving a step closer to the camera so that his face filled the screen. “If you and your Federation destroyed this system, you will pay. I will be watching.”

  With that the screen went blank.

  Kirk tilted his head slightly, a bit bemused that he had ever thought KerDaq reasonable. Then he turned to Spock. “I don’t think that went very well.”

  “Obviously,” Spock said.

  “The Klingons have moved a short distance away,” Chekov said. “They are holding positions.”

  The screen once again showed the destruction throughout the Tautee system. The rings were expanding slowly, the rocks and asteroids spreading in an ever-lengthening band that would eventually encircle the sun.

  Kirk clenched a fist. It was time to get on with what they were here for. The Klingons could watch
all they wanted, as long as they stayed out of the way.

  “Mister Spock,” Kirk said. “I need to know what’s causing those subspace waves. And I need a way to rescue those survivors.”

  Mr. Spock glanced at him. “That will take some time, sir.”

  “We don’t have time, Mister Spock.” Kirk glanced at the destruction spread out in front of him. “And I doubt those survivors do either.”

  Chapter Seven

  FOLLE DIDN’T COME BACK.

  Prescott released the restraints on her chair, but kept a grip on one arm. She had sat in the semidarkness for hours waiting for him. She had expected him to return, telling her that the signal wouldn’t work, or that the attempt was in vain.

  Instead, he was gone.

  On a deep level, one she didn’t want to examine, she was afraid that something had happened to him. Strange that the thought of his death disturbed her so personally. He would be one more body, one more corpse on her head.

  Nothing more.

  But he was Folle, and he was still alive when the moon shattered, and he had supported her.

  She hadn’t supported him.

  She had ridiculed his attempts to survive. What had her biology instructor in early children’s class said? The basic instinct of all creatures is survival.

  Even for her.

  She let go of the chair arm. The extremely low gravity felt odd. Moving was like swimming, only without the weight of the water around her. The air supported her—or at least that was what it felt like—as she pushed off from her chair, buoyed her up when she jumped, and almost made her feel as if she could fly.

  It took her no time at all to reach the doors to the amphitheater.

  Then she stopped. She hadn’t been outside this room since the moon shattered. Folle had been her window into the rest of the center. She had hidden from her colleagues and staff like a child expecting discipline from a parent.

  Time to face the world again.

  Or what was left of it.

  She took a deep breath of the dry, stale air and pulled open the big door.

  The dim lights made the corridor seem narrower than she remembered. Some chunks of steel had fallen out of the ceiling. Long cracks ran alongside the walls. Dust and debris floated here, too, like they did inside, only here they bounced off the walls, and had odd trajectories. The air seemed thicker, harder to breathe. The low ceiling now felt like a threat instead of a comfort.