Demands of Honor (27 page)

It was over. They had won, but Kirk took no satisfaction in the victory. The
Enterprise
had undergone extensive refits and modifications recently to make weapons and shields more effective against Klingon warships. And Kirk had been facing an inexperienced commander. Nevertheless, the Klingons had hurt them. What would have happened if it had been Koloth at the helm of the
D'k Tahg?

What if the same scenario played out across the Federation? Evenly matched vessels pummeling each other. In those circumstances, even the cost of victory would be high. And then there would be defeats. Inevitably, there would be setbacks and battles lost.

How many lives?

“I'm getting casualty reports now,” Uhura said. “Twenty-two injuries. All minor.”

Kirk felt McCoy's hand on his shoulder for a moment, and then the doctor was gone, headed for sickbay.

Hitting a button on his command chair, Kirk said, “Mister Scott, repair time?”

“You'll have shields back at a hundred percent within the hour. Phasers in less. I'll have to take a look at the hull damage to make an estimate there.”

“Keep me posted. Kirk out. Mister Spock, are the Klingons disabled?”

“Yes, Captain. I am also showing multiple hull breaches and heavy casualties. They will not be a threat for several hours at least.”

Kirk did not want to underestimate the Klingons. They were notoriously good at field repairs—a necessary skill considering how often they took their ships into battle—but a few hours were all he needed.

“Mister Sulu, get us back to the planet, best speed,” Kirk said.

Fuller counted twenty Klingon weapons platforms, ten coming from each side of the mine. Adon and his people had only two, and even if they were superior pilots, they would not stand for long against ten to one odds.

“Fire at will!” Fuller shouted to his people. His squad took aim on the platforms from the hauler as Greenberger's squad dispersed on the ground and did the same. “Keep us moving and keep us in the air as long as you can,” Fuller said to Quatrocchi.

“Aye, sir,” the ensign said. The hauler was built to go up and down carrying heavy loads so it was sluggish, but they needed to keep fire off the people on the ground for as long as possible.

Adon and Bethe were doing the same, darting in and out of the mass of Klingon craft. The two native pilots
were good, and if they were lucky, that might buy them a few extra minutes, but in the end Fuller could see that the outcome of this engagement would be inevitable.

Fuller was aware of the Klingon attack craft strafing the ground, hitting at least a few of the natives there. Each blow created a small crater. No, they wouldn't last long. Fuller also noted that these platforms were firing green disruptor bolts, not the red Orion particle beams. Unfortunately, this meant they were even more deadly.

“Chief, look,” Parmet called out. Five of the Klingon craft were headed for the platform at the side.

“Turn us to face them,” Fuller said to Quatrocchi. It would give the vehicles a smaller target. Fuller took aim and fired his phaser rifle as the squad did the same. Green disruptor bolts tore at the air around them as the craft turned slowly.

They took a hit on the right side and the hauler shuddered violently. Though the chest-high rim of the craft provided them with limited cover, the vehicle had no shields. One or two more direct hits and they would be grounded, or in pieces.

The Klingon platforms were coming in a classic flying
V
formation. Fuller took aim at the craft in the center and immediately the others did the same. In just a few seconds, the platform exploded brilliantly and the other four broke off the assault.

“Target the one on the far right,” Fuller said, firing his own rifle. A few moments later, that platform exploded. “Quatrocchi, get us around to the back of the mine. We won't last long out here, so we're going to make a direct assault on the mine from the main shaft. Watch out for weapons platforms, everyone.”

Scanning the ground, Fuller saw that this battle was going badly. He counted at least a dozen dead on the ground and saw that at least three of them were wearing Starfleet uniforms.

“Damn,” he said as the ore hauler moved with agonizing slowness.

“Chief,” Jawer called out, pointing behind them.

A single Klingon craft was approaching. Fuller fired without hesitating and saw at least three beams strike the platform, which fired a single bolt and veered off. The disruptor energy hit them directly in the back, and Fuller felt the craft lurch violently. He was thrown toward the rear and hit the rim of the hauler hard with his chest.

“Chief,” he heard Quatrocchi say. And then he realized they were falling. Turning, he saw that Quatrocchi was fighting with the controls. They were going down, and all Fuller could do was hold on. He thought about their altitude at the time they were hit and did a quick mental calculation about their chances of survival—not good.

Before that thought was fully formed, however, he felt the craft slow—not much but distinctly. Then there was a loud crash as he was slammed to the deck. Even as he realized that he was alive, he was climbing to his feet. Scanning the squad, he saw that they were all moving. Quatrocchi got up first and said, “Sorry, sir. I was only able to get the power back up for a second.”

“If we're alive, it counts as a good landing,” Fuller said, scanning the group. There were cuts and bruises, but everyone was in one piece, though Parmet was still on the ground.

“Son?” Fuller asked. He watched Parmet get up and saw that the young man was shaken and had a cut near his hairline.

Parmet shook it off and looked at Fuller. “Ready to go, sir.”

Fuller saw that a Klingon craft was bearing down on them. “Get out of here, now!” he said, jumping over the side. “Get away from the hauler!” He broke into a run. Only seconds later, he heard a loud explosion and felt the warm blast hit his back. He kept to his feet and waited for the shock wave to pass before he turned around.

Spinning about, he saw that everyone was accounted for as a mushroom cloud rose over the crater where the ore hauler had been just a few moments before. “Disperse and pick your targets,” Fuller shouted.

The squad spread out, though Fuller noticed that Parmet had stayed close to him. He could use that, he realized, and said, “Parmet, cover me!” Pulling out his communicator, he said, “Fuller to Adon.” When the young native answered, he said, “We can't beat them out here with that many vehicles. Can you get inside from the back with your craft and open the door?”

“Yes,”
Adon said.

Fuller signed off and started shooting with his phaser rifle. He took cover behind a tree, but that offered him nothing but concealment. He had seen the Klingon disruptors tear through the largest trees in the area.

Watching the sky, he saw that at least a few of the Klingon craft were missing. Then he saw the two platforms carrying the natives streak through the battle and head for the rear of the mine. Almost immediately, one of
the Klingon craft started trailing them. There was a flash of disruptor fire and one of the vehicles started going down. It could have been Adon, or the young woman—Fuller couldn't tell. A moment later, Fuller saw the remaining native pilot double back for the downed craft, and then Fuller lost sight of them both.

A blast tore a crater a few meters behind Fuller and he spun and fired. The air was still full with attacking Klingons, and they no longer had the two defending platforms in the air. Even if Adon made it, Fuller knew that they would never hold out long enough for the young native to get through the mine and open the door.

Fuller weighed the odds. They were poor and getting worse.

Adon saw the flash as Bethe got hit. Her craft didn't explode immediately, but it did drop toward the surface. Immediately, he swung his platform around and scanned for her. He saw her craft on the ground, surprisingly intact, but Bethe was gone….

There she was, running away from the vehicle, which exploded when she was perhaps thirty paces from it. Turning again, Adon prepared to dive down to retrieve her, then his craft shook under his feet. A flash told him the invisible shield was gone. He headed for the ground. Without the protective shield, a single shot would destroy the platform.

A moment later, he saw a green bolt race by him on his right and pulled the craft to the left. That movement saved his life, he was sure, because when the next bolt struck his vehicle, it hit the extreme right side. The platform shuddered and started tilting badly to the right.
Whatever kept it in the air had been damaged, at least on that side.

Adon had to struggle to hold on as the craft was now almost completely on its side. Slowing his speed, he tried to lower the platform without flipping it. A series of green bolts flew all around him, and Adon decided he'd had enough. He jumped from the craft and landed hard on the ground. Hitting at an angle, he rolled to a stop and quickly found his feet again.

Remembering Bethe, he raced away, looking back when he judged it safe. His platform was still in the air, slowly spinning in place. Two Klingon vehicles approached and slammed it with weapons fire. It exploded brilliantly, and Adon regretted seeing the machine destroyed. His father had raced him with that device….

Adon felt grief and anger rise up inside him. That was one more thing Gurn would pay for.

“Are you done playing?” he heard a voice ask behind him. It was Bethe; she was carrying a
mek'leth
in one hand and a pistol in the other.

“Yes,” he said, drawing his own pistol and the sword that had been his father's.

“Do you have a plan?”

“Yes, we attack the mine and I take Gurn's miserable life.”

Bethe simply nodded. Adon headed for the rear of the mine at a run with Bethe by his side.

Fuller knew he had little choice but to order a direct assault on the mine. It would be tricky under ideal circumstances, and these circumstances were far from ideal with the Klingons able to strike them at will from the sky.

That was when he saw the first transporter beams. A few seconds later, six Klingon warriors appeared on the battlefield, and Fuller instantly understood: Captain Kirk had defeated the Klingon battle cruiser and returned to orbit. These were the Klingons from the crew of the Klingon ship that had been stranded by Duras. They had come to join the fight, yet it took every ounce of self-control that Fuller had to keep from shooting them while they stood in the open.

These Klingons were possibly the same ones that had killed his son. Perhaps the only thing that stayed his hand was that there were only six of them. Almost a hundred more waited on another continent. Even as he had that thought, there was another transporter beam and another six Klingons materialized. Before they had fully formed, the first group had their disruptors out and were firing at the Klingons in the air.

The crew of the
D'k Tahg
made no effort to find cover. They simply stood their ground and fired. Fuller watched as a single shot from a hand weapon tore through one of the vehicle's shields and into the pilot, tearing a hole in the Klingon and knocking him off the craft, which spun away, crashing a few hundred yards in the distance.

The other Klingons were having similar success, their weapons making hit after hit on the pilots and craft … as if the shields didn't exist. Fuller understood. The shields of the weapons platforms had been calibrated to allow the vehicle's disruptor energy to pass through it. Unfortunately for the Klingon pilots, this door opened both ways and would allow disruptor beams in.

In less than five minutes, with less than thirty Klingons
on the ground, the weapons platforms were almost all destroyed. Fuller saw that their own chances had just improved dramatically. Now, the only defenses for the mine would be the Klingons inside loyal to Duras.

That was when the mine doors opened and the Klingon warriors inside began to spill out. They were Duras's last line of defense and he was using them. They had just made Fuller's job even easier.

“Fuller to
Enterprise.
”

“Kirk here.”

“Good to hear your voice, Captain.”

“You too, Michael. Status?”

“The Klingons you transported over are helping. They've routed Duras's forces' flying craft and are engaging the forces from the mine.”

“Good, but we have a problem. Sensors show a power surge deep in the mine.”

“A kinetic explosive?”

“Yes.”

“Perhaps Duras will turn it off now that his ride has disappeared.”

“Mister Spock's analysis suggests that it can't be simply turned off. It's been collecting energy from the mine's warp reactor for some time. It probably already has enough to destroy most if not all of the planet.”

“What can we do, sir?”

“Blow it up. Mister Scott is preparing a charge. I need you to destroy the device. The energy will still be released, but as heat and radiation so it won't have the seismic effect.”

“Understood. Will there be time to get the team out?” Fuller asked, his voice perfectly calm.

“There's a timer on the charge, but you'll have to hurry to get it down the shaft and escape.”

There was a hum and Fuller saw the shimmer of transporter energy three meters from him. An ordinary duffel bag appeared on the ground. Picking it up and opening the bag's zipper, Fuller saw that it held a photonic charge with a simple timer—though he realized that whatever happened next, he wouldn't be needing the timer.

Fuller saw the possibilities before him. He could complete the objectives of this mission, at least most of them. And here was an opportunity to achieve something even more important, to take the kind of action that the times demanded.

“We'll do it, Captain, but the Klingons can help. Can you have the crew of the
D'k Tahg
draw Duras's forces away from the mine?” Fuller said.