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Authors: John Jackson Miller

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Sixty-five

U.S.S. E
NTERPRISE
-
E

O
RBITING
T
HANE

T
welve
birds-of-prey,
La Forge thought.
There might as well be twelve million.

Working in main engineering long after his shift had ended, La Forge had tried every trick in his book. He'd even broken out Montgomery Scott's book. He'd tried just about every tactic ever recorded for sensing the locations of cloaked objects, to no avail.

Enterprise
had been able to work backward to pursue the vessels to Thane. But the Unsung had fled the nest, with no known destination. There was only their message, promising mischief against the Klingons, their allies, and anyone who negotiated with the Empire. That offered little guidance as to where they'd go next. If the Unsung—or whoever had modified the Phantom Wing vessels for them—had figured out how to keep the starships cloaked in the unpredictable medium of the Briar Patch, there was little to be done. The
Enterprise
could crisscross the galaxy showering the sky with everything from alpha particles to tachyons and it wouldn't find them.

There was no use trying to go to sleep. Giving in, La Forge replayed for the umpteenth time the
Enterprise
's sensor logs from Thane, just before the explosion. Why was there only one contact and not more?

Next he turned once again to the broad scans
Enterprise
had made of the surrounding space after the conflagration in the compound. More noise from the metaphasic madhouse that was the Briar Patch. Unless . . .

There it was again.
The flutter. Less than a hiccup, it had happened while he was looking at something else on the
bridge. It was subtle, far beneath the threshold at which the ship's computer would have flagged the incident. Stranger, while the readings suggested the thing causing the anomaly was in motion, it wasn't moving too quickly.

It reminded him of the way birds-of-prey with imperfectly functioning cloaks were sniffed out. You could track their course in part because how the ships of that class traveled was a known variable. This particular glitch didn't fit that profile. It was on the move—departing the planet—but not like a high-­performance attack craft. This contact moved like a support vessel.

There's a thirteenth ship out there.

La Forge replicated some coffee and went back to work. If he couldn't find the Phantom Wing, he'd settle for nabbing someone who knew where they were.

•   •   •

Admiral Riker had sent Picard a message from
Titan
after departing Qo'noS; an
Enterprise
shuttle had conveyed the message to the captain inside the Briar Patch. Picard had seldom seen his former protégé more somber. Understandably so: he had been dealt a major diplomatic setback, perhaps the worst since Command had made him a special envoy-at-large.

Riker reported the words that Galdor—Picard still had trouble thinking of him as Korgh—had been speaking both privately and publicly about the Accords. There would be no sundering of a century-long partnership over the Kahless incident: that was not the story here. The ties between the Federation and Empire were many, the mutual interests plentiful. The greater danger was to the singular treasure that James Kirk and Azetbur had discovered on Khitomer: trust. The asset had compounded in value over the years. Any drain on the account meant less was available to be drawn upon the next time something threatened both parties.

Martok could take care of his own political fortunes, but the job had grown more difficult. His take on the situation was summed up in the one request he had made of Riker:
Fix this.

The admiral had shared the request with Picard without comment. It was already Starfleet's goal. The captain didn't feel the need to repeat the message to Worf, who was sitting uneasily in his ready room. The first officer had just finished providing a detailed a description of the Unsung. Their ships, weapons, tactics—as well as their culture and goals, as he understood them.

Picard sensed there was more. “What else, Number One?”

Worf hesitated before speaking. “Valandris is strong and independent,” he finally said. “Her kidnapping of me, her warning about the trap—these were acts of defiance, declarations of self. Yet she longed for a leader, someone other than herself. They all did.”

“And that is why they kidnapped you?”

“Apparently. It was not a role I wanted, and they were already under the spell of whoever is impersonating Kruge.” Worf frowned. “I do not understand it. True power comes from within. I can see needing a
teacher
—like those Klingons I encountered who lived under Romulan control. But not a ruler.”

Considering the question, Picard said, “A religion on Earth suggested the existence of a place called Limbo—literally, the limb or edge of hell. It was a temporary place for those who could not ascend to heaven without the intervention of a savior. Perhaps that is what the Unsung were seeking: someone from outside to intervene.”

Worf shook his head. “If they had not been deprived of their culture, they would know they do not need anyone else. In ‘The Story of the Promise' the historical Kahless tells us we need only to depend on ourselves.”

“But does he not also promise in that story that he will return?” Picard paused thoughtfully. “I don't presume to interpret your beliefs, Worf, but I would assume that the original Kahless must have thought his presence would have been of assistance.”

Considering it that way stirred something in Worf's memory. “I was required to perform a feat to guarantee Jadzia's admission into Sto-Vo-Kor.”

“Surely her heroics were enough?”

“She had not fallen in combat. That made my act necessary.”

“Intercession by a third party does have a place,” Picard said. “Perhaps the Unsung, in their way, were reaching out to you for help.”

“Kruge was there. There was nothing I could say to move them.”

“No.” The captain looked kindly on Worf. “Get some rest, Number One. There are busy days ahead. Dismissed.”

Worf rose from his chair and stepped toward the door. Just before exiting, he paused and turned. “Captain, there is something I hadn't thought of.”

“What's that?”

“Kahless the Unforgettable is said to guard Sto-Vo-Kor. He helps determine who enters.” He opened his palms before him. “But Kahless the clone is like Jadzia.”

“He did not fall in battle.” Picard's eyes widened as he comprehended the scope of the matter. “What feat could possibly be grand enough to get the reincarnation of Kahless into Sto-Vo-Kor? And what mortal would dare presume to take it on?”

Worf stared at the deck for a long moment and took a deep breath. “I will think of something.” The door closed behind him.

CONTINUES IN

BOOK 2:

THE JACKAL'S TRICK

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

In 2014, I approached editor Margaret Clark with an idea for an ambitious three-volume epic that would, among other things, severely test the alliance between the Federation and the Kling­on Empire. Months followed during which I zeroed in on the story I wanted to tell, aided greatly by her suggestions—as well as the helpful guidance of John Van Citters of CBS. I appreciate their support, as well as that of Ed Schlesinger, Scott Pearson, and the whole Pocket Books team.

For inspiration, I am also indebted to the filmmakers behind two of my favorite installments,
Star Trek III: The Search for Spock
and
Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country
, as well as the creators of
Star Trek: The
Next Generation
episodes dealing with Kahless and discommendation. Gratitude also goes to many
Trek
authors past and present whose works I consulted, with particular nods to Michael Jan Friedman and Keith R. A. DeCandido, whose
Kahless
and
The Klingon Art of War
volumes, respectively, provided useful background. I also drew upon the Klingon language works of Marc Okrand, as well as the linguistic advice of Felix Malmenbeck. Locations are based on
Star Trek: Star Charts
and
Star Trek: Stellar Cartography
.

Finally, kudos go to
Trek
mavens James Mishler, Brent Frankenhoff, Robert Peden, and Michael Singleton for their feedback and proofreading assistance, as well as to Meredith Miller, proofreader and Number One on my bridge.

Volume One down, two to go. Engage!

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

John Jackson Miller is the
New York Times
bestselling author of the novels
Star Trek: The Next Generation: Takedown
;
Star Wars: A New Dawn
;
Star Wars: Kenobi
;
Star Wars: Knight Errant
;
Star Wars: Lost Tribe of the Sith—The Collected Stories
; as well as
Overdraft: The Orion Offensive
and the
Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic
graphic novels. He has also written the eNovella
Star Trek: Titan: Absent Enemies
. A comics industry historian and analyst, he has written for franchises including
Halo
,
Conan, Iron Man, Indiana Jones, Mass Effect, Planet of the Apes,
and
The Simpsons
. He lives in Wisconsin with his wife, two children, and far too many comic books.

FOR MORE ON THIS AUTHOR:
Authors.SimonandSchuster.com/John-Jackson-Miller

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SimonandSchuster.com

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Cover art by Doug Drexler and Ali Ries

ISBN 978-1-5011-1579-0

ISBN 978-1-5011-1604-9 (ebook)

BOOK: Hell's Heart
3.45Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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