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Issue
#67 Spring 2004 |
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"Initial data suggests warp field destabilization. It fluctuated during the battle that the stellar breakaway aggravated. We have impulse power only."
"I want engineering NOW!"
"Chief Engineer Thor'an here. The engines are repairable, with time."
"We have NO time! If the enemy tracked us we're a waddling target."
"Then we're a waddling target until we can repair the engines, there is no other option."
"Then create another option. Navigation, give me a scan of the area."
The navigator busied herself for a moment. "Scan complete. Nothing but empty space with a small asteroid cluster nearby. It'd be the perfect place to hide and make repairs."
"Too perfect and the first place they'd look if they suspected we needed to hide. Lay in a course for the field, one quarter impulse. Engineering!"
"Thor'an here, what now?"
"Get a crew to attach an explosive module to a probe and stand by to launch on my mark."
"It's not going to get very far or move very fast."
"It won't have to, just have it ready to launch."
“Understood”
"Helm, I want to know when we're about to enter the field's boundaries. Weapons, plot a course for the probe to the center of the cluster. Engineering, status report."
"Probe is being readied now, Captain, and will be ready on your command. Estimates on the warp drive say we can have minimal warp by end of watch."
"I expect more and sooner! Stand by for probe launch, Command out. Helm, status."
"Coming up on 100,000 kelicams....mark!"
"Plot a reverse course and execute on my command."
"Course plotted. 80,000 kelicams.........50,000......20,000...entering cluster boundary."
"Reverse course, full impulse! Launch probe!!"
"Annoyance" spun on it's axis and plunged back into open space. As it moved in one direction a small spark that was the probe separated itself from the ship and began crawling in the opposite direction deeper into the cluster. It's tiny warp drive strained to move the overloaded probe along. For a few moments it succeeded, but then the spark died as the drive failed.
"Probe failure. It reached 57% to the cluster center. Approaching cluster boundary again."
Shut down engines! Shut down all non-essential systems, rig for stealth. All stations effect what repairs are possible."
The "Annoyance" drifted off into the night and was lost in the stars. With active scans down it called no attention to itself. With engines shut down it's infrared signature dropped into the background haze. If someone knew EXACTLY where to look they could be found, but space is very big and the only ones who knew where they was were on board and not inclined to tell..........
Later in the Captain's quarters that doubled for his office the Captain and XO were going over repair reports and discussing future tactics for the mission.
"That was a very shrewd maneuver at the asteroid field you came up with."
"It was all we had open at the time. I prefer more options when dealing with unknowns. But it will do for the moment. Our plasma trail from the engines leads into the field and any pursuers will have to check no matter how obvious the ploy. Especially since we flooded the zone with our reverse of course. They won't even be surprised if they stumble on the mine we left behind, but it's also the only advantage we have at the moment. It'll announce that we're taking precautions and they must too, slowing them down. It'll also give away their presence with the energy burst. The real question though is how good are they at sniffing out our trail?"
"As you said, it will do for the moment. This game is not over yet."
The comm line came to life just then.
"Thor'an here, the engines are ready for testing. Simulations say warp 1.6 is the best we'll get without further repairs."
"Stand by for test, then we'll decide on further repairs if you don't need to repair this first attempt. Navigation, lay in a random course for the test, no evasives. Now!"
"Annoyance's" warp field unfolded and then tugged on the fabric of space, pulling the vessel toward the rift it was forming. Vectors shifted from the direction they were going before and the distortions compressed it into a smaller volume as space was stretched to allow for outpacing light (to an outside observer) while none of this was felt (by the crew). The engines were nudged progressively up the scale until aberrations began to appear in the operation. Attempts were made to adjust and tune, but a practical limit had been reached. The warp field folded back in on itself and the vessel slowed to it's original sub-light speed but on a different vector. Now pursuers would have to track them by any distortions left in the continuum, and that was less accurate than following a plasma trail. "Annoyance" slipped into the night as the next move in the game was considered.
...to be continued...
"Behold the Three and their host! All will fall
beneath their words, all will fall in battle. Those who witness will
lament and mourn and the land will burn for four thousand five hundred
and six days!" Ancient Klingon Prophesy
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“I will release you from your constraints, Kahless, as I know you to be honorable.” Said Kathes, “Meet the dread Lord Horaq!” Kathes bowed to avert his eyes and swept his arm, pointing to a small hillock. Kahless realized suddenly that this was no hillock, but a pile of Klingon skulls, perhaps a thousand.
The way to the hillock was lined with the largest warriors he had ever seen, each with a red three-pointed symbol on his cheek. He had never seen the symbol before, but it emblazoned all the banners they held as well, almost a star with one facet pointing up, the other two splayed to the left and right.
He took a deep breath and walked forward. On the hill sat a Klingon. Astride a throne ocher-stained from ancient battles. The targs that sat at the warrior’s feet looked at Kahless with a strange intellect born of he knew not what encounters. Kahless had not yet looked at the figure that sat on the throne; he was still assessing the scene before him. There were fewer than a score of warriors in the camp, but each he saw had the simplicity of men who could kill the greatest beast with scarcely a thought.
“With a legion of these men I could topple Molor in a day” he thought, and as quickly realized that there could never be a legion of such men, warriors like this were few and Horaq drew them as a whirlpool claimed all that came too close.
Then finally Kahless looked at the man on the throne. The hair of his head was snow white in contrast to the power that exuded from his hands and feet. Few Klingons lived long enough to have hair that color and those he had known were doddering fools. The hands of the warlord where scarred and he did not wear the fingerless gloves that Kahless had adopted when he fought in the army of Molor as a youth. This was a warrior from another tradition, another time.
He held in his hand a staff 2 meters tall woven from the stiff Klingon prairie grass, perhaps the first Horaq staff. At the top of this staff was the same unfamiliar tri-Stella that adorned his retinue. His feet were covered with metallic boots unlike any Kahless had seen before and he wore boots and leggings fashioned from the skin of the lung, the native dragon.
A black cloak billowed as Horaq stood up. He stood up. He stood up. He stood up. It seemed to Kahless that he took forever to stand though Horaq moved not with the stiffness of age.
When he stood he was a good head taller than the staff he held in his hand, easily taller than any of the huge warriors Kahless had gone past. Kahless was used to being shorter than the people he faced, by Klingon standards he was not tall, he was compactly built with a blistering speed and a strength that flowed from that speed. He could not remember any Klingon not immortalized in stone as tall as Horaq.
Horaq came down from his chair to meet Kahless, his stride belying the age that Kahless knew Horaq possessed (Kahless suspected that Horaq was even older than his lieutenants had said, but this warrior was as vigorous as Kahless himself) “Kahless! I am grieved to meet you like this.” The voice of Horaq sounded like the deep of a cave cut out from the water.
“You know me Lord?” Kahless was nothing if not respectful of those who had earned it as Horaq had.
“Does the Volcano know the brush fire? Does the sea know the river?
Yes Kahless I do know you and have been greatly joyed by your destruction of the armies of Molor. Your coming is no mystery to me.
"It does sadden me that you will not live to see your Qu’ become Qu’pu’. None that enter this valley, save to serve me, leave with their lives. Despite your glorious battles, you are failing are you not?”
“Truth Lord!” Kahless was at once relieved that someone else saw his plight, but was equally as frustrated by reflecting on his dilemma. “You, Lord Horaq are reputed the greatest tactician to walk the gore-spattered fields of Qo’noS! Yet when Molor’s fate was in your hands, you stayed your attack and retreated into these hills.”
Kahless next thought might be his last if spoken, but he could not foreswear himself, ”Why did you so dishonor yourself by stopping short of victory? Truly if you had but stretched forth your hand you could have snuffed Molor as a guttering candle!”
Horaq took the face of Kahless into his hand and stared into the eyes of he whom we call Unforgettable for long seconds without speech.
Kahless noted that none of the grim warriors that surrounded them flinched at his provocation. A moment of envy passed through his mind as he realized his own warriors where too headstrong to be as disciplined.
“You are no fool,” Horaq dropped Kahless’ face and returned to his throne. As he sat he sighed heavily, “You wish to provoke a story from me. Honor forbad my destruction of Molor for reasons I cannot reveal without dishonor.
But this is vanity - you are not here to serve me! None but my servants breathe long here.” Horaq motioned with his eyes almost imperceptively and the phalanx of warriors began to close around Kahless.
“Am I one of your sniveling baby targs that you treat me such?”
sneered Kahless, pulling out the dagger Kathes had handed him. Kathes interposed himself, “This brave Klingon is here under my flag and MAY NOT be dispatched so!”
The eyes of Horaq lightened for the first time and he raised his hand to halt the wall of death. His eyes glistened for a time and turned inwardly. He stroked his beard and looked downwardly for long moments.
Nodding he stood and doffed his cloak. Under it was the armor of ages past covered with fantastic symbols. Strange weapons were tucked into his belt and holstered on his arms. He quickly shed them and stood before the assembly wearing only a linen undershirt and lung-hide pants.
“Kathes, your honor is unexcelled in my memory! I will give this honor to Kahless, I will fight you singly without weapons and if you survive you may leave in peace.”
Kahless was still unafraid of the spectacle about him. “That is not sufficient Horaq,” He spoke boldly and quickly, “If I win I will ask a boon of you! Join me in my crusade to free Qo’noS of the evil that Molor has done!”
This last insult was too much for the hovering throng. “Die you animal!” called a voice from the retinue.
“Die he may,” said Horaq, “but at my hand in the circle of death.”
Horaq walked quickly to a circle demarked by the skulls of targs.
It was one of the few clear level areas in the valley, a circle about 10 meters in diameter. Kahless followed, and at the approach to the circle doffed his armor and returned the knife to Kathes.
Kathes looked to his liege, “MiLord, if it offend you not, I will stand subaltern for Kahless.”
Horaq smiled at the young warrior, ”Yes you may gather his belongings and return them to his camp when he has passed to the Black Fleet.”