Star Trek: Republic
Book II: Blood Ties
A work of fan-fiction based upon the Star Trek universe created by Gene Roddenberry
Authored by Stephen T Bynum
All rights reserved
Book II: Blood Ties
A work of fan-fiction based upon the Star Trek universe created by Gene Roddenberry
Authored by Stephen T Bynum
All rights reserved
Chapter One[/b]
Matt snapped upright in his bed, his body soaked with sweat as he panted and felt his veins throb at the run-away pace of his heart. Slowly, he relaxed, and he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees and he laid his face down in his palms. It was just a dream, he thought, just a bad dream. “Lights,” he said as he peeled away the damp sheets and stood, while the computer obediently raised the illumination levels in his cabin. Matt grimaced as he saw the time display: 0244 hours.
Still, he was awake and he knew that he would not be going back to sleep any time soon. The Captain of USS Republic made his way into the small adjourning bath-room, relieved himself, and he left his shorts on the deck as he stepped into the shower, where the hot water helped him come fully awake.
He shut down the water flow and toweled off before stepping in front of his mirror, wiping away the steam and then mixing up a mug full of shaving cream. He quickly lathered up and then deftly cut away the emerging tips of his nightly whiskers. Washing off the last of the lather and cut hair, he dropped the towel and then his shorts in the soiled clothing receptacle and heard the hum as they were broken down into their constituent elements, and then replicated clean and fresh into the dispenser. Matt picked them up and he stored the towel, then walked back into his cabin and began to pull on his uniform. Once fully dressed, he paused long enough to open a drawer and extract a Type I Phaser—a cricket—which he carefully checked to ensure it was indeed charged and locked on stun; then he headed for the door and exited into the corridors of his ship, the lights behind him automatically dimming in his absence.
Republic was in night-mode, with her lights cut by a third from the normal day-shift illumination; but the powerful cruiser never truly slept. A full quarter of her crew were going about their nightly duties, manning stations and performing all of the various task required for the ship to continue functioning. Still, the corridors were mostly empty at this time of the night and Matt encountered no one as he walked to the turbolift. As he did, he felt the slight shiver of the hull as the warp drive disengaged, and he nodded. Right on schedule, he thought to himself. The doors slid aside at his approach and he stepped within. “Bridge,” he commanded, and the turbolift obeyed.
***********************************************************
Galok of the House of Mak’vegh looked up from his feigned disinterest as one of his Warriors turned about to face him.
“Commander, our quarry has dropped out of warp.” He smiled a very Klingon smile. “Their shields are down and they dropped out of Warp quite near where we were told they would emerge.”
The Klingon nodded and he smiled as he straightened his shoulders and sat back in his chair. “Battle conditions,” he ordered. “Range? Bearing?”
“Six thousand kellicams . . . and closing,” another replied. “We are approaching from her stern, my Lord.”
“Good, good!” Galok bared his teeth. “Signal Treleak and Vashoon—tight-beam, minimum power!” he barked. “Stand by to transfer energy to weapons . . . at my command!”
“Understood,” the engineer answered.
“Dekar,” the Klingon leaned forward. “Be ready to transmit their command prefix upon my orders—only on my orders. They must have no warning of our attack.”
The communications officer nodded briskly. “Awaiting your command, my Lord.”
“Four thousand kellicams . . . and closing,” the sensor technician reported.
“Steady. Steady,” whispered Galok.
***********************************************************
Within seconds the transport car had reached the bridge and the doors once again slid open; Matt walked out onto his command deck and he saw the steady stars out of the corner of his eye on the main viewer. We’ve reached the Camulus system, he thought. Why Starfleet wanted us to survey this system en route to Cygnus, I’ll never know.
Lt. Commander Amanda Tsien stood from his chair, a puzzled look on her face, and Matt grinned. “Miss Tsien, don’t you ever sleep?”
She smiled back. “I prefer the night shift, Captain,” she answered quietly. “It gives me a chance to get command time under my belt—for when I get my own ship.”
Matt chuckled, and he motioned the Science Officer back into the seat. “I have some work I need to finish this morning, Amanda,” he whispered softly so that no one else could hear him. “No surprise Red Alert drills today. Patch me through to the Vulcan Embassy on Earth, please.”
“Aye, aye, Sir,” she answered as she sat. “Mister Galloway, place a ship-to-shore call to the Vulcan Embassy on Earth,” she ordered.
***********************************************************
Dekar blinked as his console began to receive a signal—the Federation ship was powering up their sub-space communications array, and he cursed softly. These humans must not be allowed to warn the others—Lord Mak’vegh had been quite explicit in his instructions for Galok to intercept this ship . . . and if possible to destroy it using the stolen codes. Dekar knew that; he might not have been authorized to view the transmission . . . but then again, he was the comm officer. And so he had seen it with his own eyes and heard Lord Mak’vegh with his own ears.
“Two thousand kellicams . . . and closing. They have yet to detect us,” the executive officer reported from his station.
Dekar drew in a deep breath and snarled, but no one on the tight confines of the bridge payed any attention to the warrior assigned to monitor transmissions. Then he pressed one key.
“My lord, they are attempting to contact their sub-space relay buoys—I am jamming their transmissions,” he reported.
***********************************************************
Matt nodded in appreciation and began to walk towards his ready room, when a puzzled voice stopped him dead in his tracks.
“No response from sub-space comm relays, Ma’am,” the junior Operations Officer of the Watch called out. “I’m not even receiving a carrier signal.”
Matt frowned, as did Amanda as she swiveled the chair. “Reroute through the secondary network, Mister Galloway.”
“No response again, Ma’am.”
Amanda stood and walked over to an unmanned Science Station, where the Captain joined her. “Are our communications down?” he asked.
“No, sir. Diagnostics are clean—Galloway is correct, we aren’t receiving the carrier signal from the sub-space radio net, either primary or secondary. It is almost li-. . . ,” she suddenly stopped and inhaled sharply. “Captain, I think our communications are being deliberately jammed.”
Matt licked his lips. “Miss Tsien, I have the conn. Sound Red Alert and set General Quarters throughout the ship—do not raise shields or arm weapons, put them on standby.”
“Aye, aye, Sir. Sounding Red Alert and setting General Quarters throughout the ship,” she said as the klaxons began to blare.
Matt sat down in his command chair and buckled the safety straps about his chest and waist. And he stared at the viewer showing only the stars as the officers and crew of Republic rushed to their stations.
***********************************************************
“You mindless toh-pah!” Commander Galok shouted at the defiant communications officer. “If you have alerted them, I will cut out your heart and feed it to my tarq!”
“They were trying to summon aid, my Lord! I thought it best . . .”
“P’tahk!” Galok shouted as he stood. “You did not think at all! You warned them! They are now determining if their own communications are defective, and when they find that they are not, what conclusion do you suppose they will draw?”
“They are spineless Federation humans, my Lord, without the heart of bat . . .”
The Klingon officer snarled with rage and drew his disruptor pistol; he fired a single bolt into the chest of the communications officer, who dissolved into nothing. “Pitiful fool; these humans destroyed Krull and Val’qis.”
Galok sat again and gazed upon the screen, frowning. “Have they responded to the jamming?”
“No, Commander,” answered the executive officer. “Range now one thousand kellicams and closing.”
“They will before long. Inform the others that we attack at five hundred kellicams! Communications,” Galok hissed. “Prepare to transmit the command codes—on my orders only! Is that understood?”
“Understood clearly, Commander,” Dekar’s former assistant and now successor answered as sweat pooled on his forehead.
Galok glared at him for a moment and then he sat back in his command chair—his command throne. “Good. Gunnery, target their warp core—let us end this battle with the first stroke of the sword.”
***********************************************************
Chan came running up to his console and quickly scanned it as the rating responsible for third watch stood aside. “All compartments are manned and standing by at General Quarters, Sir,” the Andorian reported. “Shields are energized, but not yet raised; weapons are manned and in stand-by mode. Is this a drill, Captain Dahlgren?”
“Let’s hope so, Mister Shrak,” Matt answered. “Someone is jamming our communications; and since there is nothing to be seen on sensors . . .”
“That means there is a cloaked ship is out there,” the XO finished. “Permission to load quantum torpedoes into the ready magazines for the forward tubes, Sir?”
Matt swiveled his chair and looked at Chan for several seconds, and then he nodded. “Granted, Mister Shrak, but do not arm; not yet, at least.”
The Captain looked down at the repeater display on the arm of his chair. “Any contact, Miss Tsien?”
“No, sir,” she answered from her Science Station. “I could fire a tachyon pulse burst—that would at least confirm the presence of a cloaked ship.”
“No, Miss Tsien, if they are jamming us then they mean to attack; quite likely at point-blank range to maximize the impact of their disruptors. We will let them come in close—we got lucky this time in that they jumped the gun on the jamming of our communications; we have an opportunity to surprise them now. If instead they withdraw and come at us again, at another time and place of their choosing, we might not be so lucky the next time.”
“CONTACT!” barked Pavel Roshenko from Tactical. “Three Klingon bird-of-prey, K’Vort-class; they are raising shields!”
“Raise shields and arm all weapons; hail them, Mister Shrak.”
“No response, Sir; shields are . . .,” Chan began, and then the Andorian cursed, his head snapping up to stare in horror at Matt. “Shields are down!”
“GET THEM UP!” snapped Matt.
“No response, phasers off-. . .,” Pavel answered, but a strangled incredulous yell from Operations cut him off.
“SIR!” Grace Biddle interrupted from the Operations station. “They are transmitting our command prefix code! Shields down—phasers off-line—torpedo launchers off-line!”
Matt jerked upright and he blinked—for just a fraction of a second, he almost refused to believe what he had heard, but then he heard his own voice snapping orders even before Grace finished her report. “OVERRIDE! Helm, evasive port!”
“Too late,” Chan snarled as he grabbed hold of his console, disrupter bolts and torpedoes streaking across the main viewer as the Klingons overtook Republic from astern.
***********************************************************
Galok snarled as his over-powered disruptor bolts and torpedoes slammed into the unshielded back of Republic and the Federation starship spun out of control, streaming air from a dozen minor hull ruptures. But the mighty starship remained—mostly—intact!
“HOW COULD THEY SURVIVE?” he bellowed as all three of his ships soared over the wounded Federation vessel.
“Commander,” the sensor technician—almost as lowly in the chain of command as the newly promoted comms officer—spoke up. “The cowards armored their hull! But the armor has been weakened, my Lord.”
“Bring us around for another pass,” Galok ordered as he nodded at the warrior’s report and glanced over the sensor data—it was true. The human cowards had armored their vessel, but his first strike had stripped away much of their defenses; a second against the same hull section would prove lethal.
“Shields, my Lord?” the executive officer asked.
“Divert all power to maneuvering and weapons! We will finish them with this strike!” And Galok smiled. “The humans are defenseless and we have torn from them their claws.”
***********************************************************
Republic heaved as disruptor bolts and torpedo impacts tore into her back and the three birds-of-prey streaked past her. Emergency lights came to life as the normal bridge lights flickered and died, even as Matt and his command crew fought to maintain their seats and footing as the hull groaned and the ship spun out of control; the inertial dampeners overloaded and subjecting all of the crew to a gut-wrenching surge of gravity before Isabella and Grace managed to compensate and pull out of the death spiral.
Matt winced as a console exploded and a rating screeched in agony as he was burned by the electrical fire—but his straps held him in place. He slammed a fist down on the arm of his chair as he looked over the blinking red lights of the damage control board—the Klingons had aimed for the warp core. If it hadn’t been for the armor, Republic would have already been destroyed. And the old girl was showing secondary damage to other sections.
“They’re coming around!” Pavel snapped.
“CHAN!”
“Shield control . . . RESTORED!”
“RAISE THEM!” barked Matt.
“Phasers . . . phaser arrays still off-line . . . torpedoes . . . torpedoes are back up in local control only!” Pavel continued.
“FIRE!” Matt snarled—just as Chan barked out, “Shields UP!”
“BRACE FOR IMPACT!” Matt ordered as the Klingon cruisers began to spit luminous green disruptor bolts and sullen red torpedoes—and he bared his teeth as Republic shivered and four blue-white orbs of death and destruction streaked away in reply.
The impact of the enemy weapons drove home against shields still straining to reach full power—but the shields held , , , for the most part. Still, it was if Republic had been a ground car that had just slammed into a brick wall, and there was a scream as a damage control tech went flying overhead to slam into the helm—narrowly missing Isabella as the Lieutenant fought to retain control of the ship’s systems. Alarms blared and acrid smoke stung Matt’s eyes, but he didn’t blink as his own torpedoes drove home against the tight formation of Klingons.
The first, struck by a single quantum torpedo, staggered as one entire wing shattered and she spun out of control—the second torpedo missed the second ship narrowly. But the remaining two flew true and went home against the third bird-of-prey—and when the glare of the explosion faded only debris remained.
“Phasers on-line!” Pavel reported as the intact Klingon ship streaked past.
“Bring us about on a pursuit course, Miss Montoya—Mister Roshenko, lock phasers.”
“Locked,” the young officer answered.
“FIRE!”
***********************************************************
Galok felt his stomachs twist and tighten as two of his ships were removed from the fight—and then he saw that Republics shields were restored . . . and her phasers were coming on-line! “Fool! Lower their shields! Disable their weapons!”
The newly promoted comm officer looked up in horror. “I cannot—the codes are no longer working!”
“WARP SPEED NOW!” Galok bellowed as he half-stood from his chair-throne. And then he breathed a sigh of relief as the old vessel accelerated first to, and then past, light-speed. The sudden maneuver left Republic far behind him, along with her golden phaser beams slicing through now-empty space.
“Engage cloaking device!”
The lighting subtly changed and Galok released his breath again. “Plot a course to rendezvous with Lord Mak’vegh.”
“We are running, my Lord?” the gunnery officer asked.
Galok snarled and he drew his pistol a second time—but the officer submitted, bowing deeply and offering the flotilla commander a clean shot at his spine. The Lord and Master of the bird-of-prey, accepted the submission of his underling—and he holstered the pistol and sat once more. “Dekar cost us the chance at victory with his clumsy jamming of their communications that alerted our foe to our presence! We must warn Lord Mak’vegh that his codes are not longer effective! Do your duty, warriors!”
The warrior bowed and turned back to his station as the surviving bird-of-prey fled Camulus and the ship Galok had planned to kill.
The Klingon ship commander sat and he rested his chin in one hand. And Lord Mak’vegh needs to know that the Federation lied about which ships can carry and fire their quantum torpedoes; perhaps he can use such information to draw away some of Martok’s more . . . reluctant supporters.
******************************************************
“Sorry, sir,” Pavel said. “She went to warp before I could get a shot off,” he paused and then shook his head. “She’s gone into cloak, Sir.”
“Understood, Mister Roshenko,” the Captain answered as the mortally wounded bird-of-prey on screen erupted in an eye-tearing explosion.
“They activated their self-destruct,” Amanda reported. “Jamming has ceased—we’ve restored contact with the sub-space relay network.”
“Very well, Miss Tsien—I want a 360-degree tachyon burst scan; let’s see if they have anything else out there. Damage report, Mister Shrak?”
“All systems are now returned to our control, Captain—and the prefix codes have been reset to a random combination. Structural damage on all decks; but no hull breaches and we have both warp and impulse power. Medical is reporting a significant number of casualties, but just three dead.”
Matt nodded. “We got lucky,” he whispered.
“Truth, pink-skin,” Chan said just as quietly in answer as he stepped up next to the command chair. “Of course, we are also very good—that helps.”
“Indeed it does,” Matt chuckled grimly. “You have the conn, Mister Shrak—keep the ship at Red Alert and coordinate the D/C teams as well as medical recovery.” Matt sighed. “I need to speak with Starfleet Command.”
“Aye, aye, Sir. I have the conn,” the Andorian answered as Matt walked to his ready room.
