Diplomatic Implausibility (9 page)

Wu got up groggily from his bed and stood behind Worf to observe as well, pausing to retrieve the padd and place it on the table with the others. Worf had fallen asleep while working on the specifications for a portable scattering field generator—which could temporarily disable any handheld disruptor weapons within a certain radius.

The camera was positioned just below the bridge’s viewscreen. Klag sat in his command chair, leaning slightly forward, gazing straight at the viewscreen with an eager face—appropriate for one going into battle. Drex was moving aft toward Toq’s station. Toq looked even more eager than Klag. Next to him at the gunner’s station, Rodek looked more impassive. Off to the side, Leskit looked almost bored—but Leskit always looked like that.

“Damage report,”
Drex barked.

“Shields holding,”
said Rodek.
“No appreciable dam
age.”

“The ship is running away,”
Toq said.
“Course eight-
three-seven mark nine.”

Worf called up the tactical schematics. The ship had come screaming toward the
Gorkon
at Warp 9.7, fired a salvo of phasers, then had, as Toq said, run. It had come in too fast for sensors to get a positive identification.

Drex asked,
“Do we pursue, Captain?”

Klag shot Drex a harsh look.
“Of course. Pilot, change
course to intercept, maximum warp. Gunner, the second
we’re in range, fire on the enemy and destroy them.”

Leskit said,
“We will intercept in seven minutes.”

Drex walked fore and leaned toward Klag. Speaking in a voice meant not to be heard by anyone on the bridge other than the captain, he said,
“Captain, the ambassador
may object to this course change.”

Klag regarded his first officer with disdain.
“Let him.”

Worf stood up.

“Let me guess,” Wu said, “you’ll be on the bridge?”

“Good guess,” Worf said dryly as he left the cabin.

Krevor silently followed.

The moment the doors parted to let Worf in, Klag, without even turning around, said, “Ambassador, this is not a good time.”

“Have you identified the ship that fired on us?”

Now Klag did turn. “Not yet,” he said slowly.

“It might be wise to do so before engaging them again.”

“Ambassador,” Klag said, standing to face Worf, “this is not your concern. We will swat this
glob
fly and resume our course to taD.”

“Anything that affects this mission is my concern, Captain. However, this attack on the
Gorkon
cannot go unanswered. Commander Drex’s fears about my objections were unfounded.”

Klag glowered at Worf, who simply stared back. The
captain seemed to want to pursue the issue—or at least question Worf about his ability to navigate the
Gorkon’s
security systems—but Worf had just given Klag what he wanted. Worf suspected that Klag had anticipated a fight.

Perhaps even desired one?
Worf wondered. Klag had looked decidedly unhappy when Martok announced that Worf commanded the mission.

Leskit interrupted: “Less than a minute to intercept.”

Klag turned from Worf and sat back in the command chair. “Rodek?”

From behind Klag, the man who was once Worf’s brother said, “Disruptors ready, Captain. Awaiting target.”

Worf’s heart sank. Rodek spoke with an appalling lack of passion. Worf remembered serving with Kurn on the
Hegh’ta
during the civil war between Gowron and Duras’s sisters. He had a fire, a passion for combat that did Worf proud.

“In range,” Toq said eagerly.

“Weapons firing.” Rodek sounded barely interested in the concept. “They have dropped out of warp.”

“Stay with them, pilot,” Klag said.

“It is a Kreel vessel, Captain,” Toq said.

Worf blinked. Even if he had objected to this diversion, that objection would be gone the minute he learned it was Kreel they faced. That race of carrion-pickers had been at odds with the Klingons for centuries. They were like Earth vultures, picking at the bones of the empire’s conquests, but never doing any conquering themselves. Defense Force vessels had standing orders to destroy any Kreel ship that dared to challenge them.

Toq added, “But they have made modifications. That’s why we couldn’t identify them at first—they have Breen shields.”

Pirated or obtained legitimately?
Worf wondered. When the mission was over—if not sooner—he needed to report this to Starfleet Intelligence.

“Destroy them, gunner,” Klag said.

“Quantum torpedoes locked on target, and firing.” Worf turned to the viewscreen. Now that he got a good look at it, it was definitely a Kreel vessel they faced. The torpedo exploded upon impact against the Kreel’s Breen shields.

“Minimal damage,” Rodek said.

Klag stood up.
“Minimal?
Are our torpedoes malfunctioning?”

“Weapons are at peak efficiency, Captain. Their shields are simply too—”

Rodek was cut off by the impact of phaser blasts on the
Gorkon’s
shields.

Drex bellowed, “Damage report!”

“Shields at forty-nine percent,” said Rodek.

“Captain,” Toq said. “The Kreel’s matter/anti-matter pods are starting to fluctuate. No, wait.” He gazed at his console. “Returning to normal. But they came close to a critical reaction when our torpedo hit.”

Klag sat back down and smiled. “Engineering, increase power to shields. Gunner,
full
spread of torpedoes.”

“Aye, sir.”

Kurak’s voice came through the intercom.
“You have
full shields again, Captain.”

Worf blinked in surprise. He knew tactical systems in general quite well, and had studied the
Gorkon’s
specs on the
Enterprise.
He didn’t see how fifty-one percent of the shields’ power could be restored that quickly.

Klag, however, didn’t question this good fortune. He clenched his one fist. “Fire!”

Worf frowned as he observed the dispersal pattern of the torpedoes. It was the default spread: focused on one area of the shields, to batter that section at several points in the hopes of collapsing the shields. Given the apparent situation—that the Breen shields’ power consumption was barely within the Kreel ship’s tolerances—it would have made more sense to widen the spread to hit as many different points around the ship as possible and increase the strain.

That,
he thought,
would require a tactical officer with
some imagination. Klag proceeded on the assumption
that he had one.
Rodek wasn’t wrong—but Kurn would have widened the spread.

“Kreel shields at eighty percent,” Rodek said.

Toq added, “Kreel matter/anti-matter pods fluctuating. Containment breach in forty seconds.”

“Move us out of the blast range, pilot,” Klag ordered, “Warp 1.”

“Gladly, sir,” Leskit said.

Within seconds, the Kreel ship exploded in a fiery barrage.

Cheers erupted throughout the bridge. An officer at an aft station cried, “Death to the Kreel!”

Leskit smiled. “Today was a good day for
them
to die.”

Klag pounded the arm of his chair and laughed. “Well done, my soldiers, well done. That’s one ship’s worth of Kreel that no longer infest the galaxy. Pilot, resume course to taD, Warp 6.”

The last two words were said while Klag looked right at Worf, and the ambassador saw the challenge in the captain’s eyes. They had been proceeding at Warp 6 since parting ways with the
Enterprise
and the
Sword of
Kahless,
but between the delay and significant course
changes necessitated by the Kreel battle, remaining at that speed would bring them to taD several hours behind schedule. Klag had all but dared Worf to challenge his decision.

Worf refused to rise to the bait. The situation on taD had gone on for several years; a few hours would make little difference. “I will be in my quarters, Captain,” he said, and turned on his heel and left.

As soon as he entered his quarters, Krevor again taking up position outside his door, he asked Wu, “Did you monitor the battle?”

“Most of it. A security lockout kicked in about fifteen seconds after Lieutenant Toq identified them as Kreel.”

Worf nodded. Drex or Rodek had probably changed the security codes. “This is far from Kreel territory.”

“They may have come here in order to raid the hulks left over from the war. There were a lot of conflicts near here.”

“True. Still, it warrants investigating. Compose a report to Starfleet Intelligence on the Kreel’s new acquisitions, and then see if there are any reports of Kreel activity in this sector over the last six months.”

Making notes on his padd, Wu said, “Very good, sir.”

“What did you do?”

Vall looked up from his station in engineering. The harsh-voiced questioner was Commander Kurak. She stood with one hand gripping the wrist of her other arm, which usually meant she was angry.

She does that,
Vall thought,
far too often.
His stomachs felt like they were trying to meld into one, and he struggled to keep down the
racht
he’d been snacking on.

“Ah—what did I do when?”

“The shields.
What did you do?”

“The shot from the Kreel blew out half the inverters, but the systems were still operational—it was merely physical damage to the inverters. So I rerouted the systems through the backup matter/anti-matter injectors.”

“The injectors can’t handle that much raw power!” Kurak screamed. “You could have—”

Vall tried not to sink lower into his chair. “I—I modified the injectors with a conduit I designed a couple of years ago. It acts as a dampener while the energy goes through the injectors. It restored the shields to their former glory, and it would
not
have blown up the ship.”

Kurak advanced on Vall. Vall tried to back his chair farther away from her, but he was already up against the console.

“I will not tolerate this behavior any longer, Lieutenant. For a month, you have pestered me with ‘suggestions’ and ‘modifications.’ Your job as assistant chief engineer is to carry out my orders, and my orders are to keep ship’s systems operating
within specified parame
ters
—nothing more! Is that understood?”

“B-but, Commander—”

“Is that understood?”

Vall fidgeted in his chair. “Yes, Commander.”

“If you perform another modification like that without permission, I will kill you. Slowly. And painfully.”

Before Vall could reply, Kurak stomped out of engineering.

The other engineers went about their business, ignoring Vall. Technically, of course, Vall was their superior, though none of them treated him that way. Not that he minded. As long as they left him alone, he was happy, and they did that as long as Vall made them look good.

Heading to his quarters at shift’s end, he bumped into Toq in the hallway.

“Hello, Toq.”

“What do you want?”

“I—I am merely heading to my cabin.”

Toq laughed. “Then don’t let me get in your way.”

Vall continued to walk, then Toq called out his name.

“Yes?” Vall asked.

Toq turned and closed the distance between them. “Was it you who got the shields back up to full so quickly?”

Flattered at having his work recognized, Vall nodded.

“That was impressive work. Commander Kurak chose well when she made you her assistant.”

Vall shifted uncomfortably. “She didn’t. The original chief engineer died honorably in a duel. The commander was assigned after that, but the staff was already in place.” Quickly he added, “Not that she didn’t deserve it. She was the one who designed the previous flagship, the
Negh’Var,
before she joined the Defense Force. She was one of the greatest warp field specialists in the empire!”

“Commander Kurak’s life doesn’t really interest me,” Toq said dryly. “But you may want to share that information with Leskit, given the way he talked at dinner yesterday.”

“Perhaps that would be good for her,” Vall muttered. “Toq, I don’t know what to do. There are so many ways I could improve thi—”

“Vall, why are you here?”

Blinking, Vall said, “What do you mean?”

“You’re no warrior. What is a
Grishnar
cat like you doing among
targs?”

Shaking his head, Vall said, “How come I’m not working at the Science Institute or something, you mean? My parents and sister asked me the same question. They thought I was insane—and that I’d be dead in a week. But I’m still here! I’m in the Defense Force!
This
is where history is made, where battles are won,
not
in the Science Institute. All the great stories are of war and battle—people like the captain and the ambassador. I want to be a part of that!”