Myriad Universes_ Echoes And Refractions Part 8

But no sooner did the words leave his lips than the voice of Kruge once again rang out across the bridge. "That won't work, Kirk! We've detected your scan. Did you think I wouldn't be looking out for your duplicity?"

"Reopen the channel," Kirk said. "Commander," he appealed to Kruge, trying to sound apologetic. "We just wanted confirmation that the two hostages are on board. After all, you could have been falsifying their voices."

"Listen very carefully, Kirk. The entire brig is magnetically shielded. Any attempt to beam out the hostages will get you a jumble of grotesque dead flesh."

Kirk whirled around to face Thelin's station, where the Andorian was already running scans to verify Kruge's claim. The results were distressing. "Confirmed, sir," Thelin said. "Beaming in or out of the brig won't be possible."

The computer console chirped. "Transmission complete," it announced.

It didn't take long for the Klingons to examine the cache of electronic data files they had just received. The voice of Kruge was heard over the open channel, arguing with his bridge crew. "What are you saying, Maltz? Why can't you read the data?"

"It appears to be encrypted, sir," the voice of Maltz replied.

"Kirk!" Kruge angrily shouted. "You're trying my patience!"

"You have the data," Kirk explained. "Now it's your turn. Release the hostages, and I'll provide the decryption key and the Genesis torpedo."

"What kind of idiot do you take me for?" Kruge hissed. "You expect me to give up my only leverage, so that you can beam over a torpedo already armed for detonation?"

A silent pause, then Kruge continued. "I will release one of the prisoners as a token of my...goodwill." He spat out the last word as if it made him violently ill to say it. "You will agree to simultaneous exchange and send over the Genesis device. This is not subject to negotiation."

Kirk took a moment to consider. "All right," he said. "Your terms are understood. Stand by for transport."

The admiral turned to face his small crew-his friends, who had put their entire careers on the line to accompany him on this mission. "Well, gentlemen...It looks like our hand is pretty weak, and we only have one card left to play."

"We vill support your decision, Admiral," Chekov said.

"Just give the word, Admiral," Sulu agreed.

"Aye, let's git on with it!" Scotty added.

Kirk looked over at Thelin, who merely bowed his head in approval.

"Thank you, my friends," Kirk humbly acknowledged. "To the transporter room."

Aboard the Katai, the Klingon transporter operator stood at attention as the doors opened and Torg entered, escorting the Vulcan prisoner. Visibly agitated as the young woman bantered with him, Torg growled at her, "You're being released! Now shut up and get on the platform before I disobey orders and disintegrate that pretty little mouth of yours."

Not willing to chance the possibility that Torg was serious in his threat, Saavik pressed her lips tightly together and stepped onto the nearest transporter pad. At the transporter console, Kruge's voice called out from the intercom. "Transporter room! Prepare for simultaneous transport with Enterprise. Engage!"

"Yes, sir," the operator responded. He moved the sliders on the control panel, and Saavik's form on the platform began to dematerialize, accompanied by the telltale whine and the sparkling energy from the containment beam. In the same instant, on the pad next to hers, a twinkling form gradually coalesced into the shape of a tall storage ark-a metallic obelisk about two meters tall with no readily discernible markings.

The operator punched the intercom on the console. "My lord, we have the Genesis device."

"Inspect the cargo," Kruge commanded. "Report immediately when you have verified its authenticity."

Torg approached the platform, and turned two metallic latches along the vertical seam at the front of the container. Slowly he pushed apart the two halves of the ark.

A phaser beam lanced outward from the interior of the ark and struck Torg squarely in the chest. With a m.u.f.fled, nasal groan, he tumbled to the deck.

The officer behind the transporter console immediately stepped backward, fumbling about his holster for his weapon. But by the time he was able to successfully retrieve it, the two halves of the ark had splayed open, and there stood Chekov, his own phaser trained directly between the Klingon's astonished eyes. "Drop your weapon, now," the Russian officer commanded.

The Klingon did so, his mouth standing agape at what was transpiring.

"What?" Chekov said. "You never heard the ancient Russian legend of the Trojan Horse?"

The Klingon shook his head.

"Ah, vell...Forgive me, but I need to stun you now."

And he did.

On the bridge of the Katai, Kruge impatiently drummed his fingers on the armrests of his chair. "What the khest is taking so long?" He punched the control to activate the intercom. "Transporter room! What is your status?"

No response.

"My lord!" Maltz shouted from the operations station. "Our transporter was just activated!"

"What?!" Kruge shouted, jumping down from his seat. "How is that possible? I ordered the shields raised!"

"They are, sir! No one can beam here from the outside," Maltz explained. "But our own transporter can still beam things onto the ship through the modulations in our shield frequency."

"Sir!" another officer interrupted. "I'm reading three...no, four intruders on board!"

"Ghuy'cha'!!!" Kruge bellowed. "Remodulate the shields! I don't want anything else beamed onto this ship! You three!" He indicated the guards nearest the bridge entrance. "Intercept the intruders. The rest of you, secure the bridge!" He slammed his fist onto the intercom panel. "And brig! Kill the remaining hostage! NOW!!!"

The three guards quickly drew their disruptors and exited through the rear doors of the bridge, which opened into the long access corridor spanning the entire length of the hull.

"Down there!" the lead Kingon shouted, pointing ahead toward the aft end of the vessel. One of the intruders-a middle-aged human, by the looks of him-had just rounded the corner to the right at the far end and descended down the stairwell to the lower deck. The three guards rushed past the transporter room on the starboard side in hurried pursuit of their target. As they crossed the threshold into the main hull, shots rang out behind them, and two of the guards crumpled onto the walkway. The third guard turned just in time to see an Andorian and a darker-haired human, having just emerged from the transporter room into the corridor, fire the shots that sent his vision plummeting into darkness.

"Kill the remaining hostage! NOW!"

Kruge's words sent chills through Kirk's spine as they echoed through the hull of the Katai. The Starfleet admiral was now a desperate father, and he was wasting no time. From the instant he materialized on the Klingon transporter pad alongside Thelin and Sulu, he made a mad dash down the corridor to the stairway at the aft end of the ship.

Kirk flew down the steps to the lower level, his phaser in his right hand, his left hand steadying his descent. Upon reaching the floor of the lower deck, he gripped the end of the rail and spun himself around, using his momentum to propel himself down the short corridor to the brig. Without warning, the heat of a disruptor blast singed the hair above his ear and impacted the staircase behind him with a crack and the hiss of superheated metal. He dropped to one knee and rolled over, coming up to a sitting position with his phaser at the ready, firing. The guard at the door to the brig toppled forward.

With a nimbleness he didn't know he still possessed, he leaped over the guard's p.r.o.ne form and into the brig. The forcefield at the entrance to the cell was disarmed, and inside the cell stood the lone remaining guard-his left arm wrapped around David's neck, his right hand holding a disruptor against David's temple.

Kirk froze, horrified at the sight of his son. His face still showed signs of bruising from the torture inflicted upon him weeks earlier. His clothes were still stained and matted with dried blood. And his left arm still ended at the wrist in a grisly cauterized stump.

"Drop your weapon or he dies," the Klingon ordered.

Staring helplessly at the weapon aimed at his son's head, he did as he was told.

"Kick it over here."

The phaser spun to a stop at the Klingon's feet in the center of the cell. He shoved David away, over to Kirk's side just within the entrance of the cell, keeping his own weapon trained on both of them, then stooped to pick up the phaser. Pocketing the extra weapon, he then retrieved his communicator from another pocket. "Brig to Kruge!" he called into the device. "I have the Starfleet admiral! What are your orders, my lord?"

As the doors to the Katai bridge slid shut behind the three guards delegated to delay the intruders, the three officers remaining on the bridge with Kruge sprang into action. "Bridge doors are sealed," one of the men spoke from the security console.

"Shield modulations are complete," Maltz called out. "Nothing further can be beamed on or off the ship."

"Very good, Maltz," Kruge said. "Now go to the weapons console and target the Enterprise warp core. If they lower their shields for an instant, you're to blow them to Gre'thor."

Maltz moved to the console at the aft end of the port side of the bridge. "Target locked, my lord."

"a.s.sume defensive positions," Kruge ordered, and the other two men scrambled to stand in between Kruge and the rear entrance to the bridge, disruptors at the ready. Maltz rose from his station and stood facing the doors with his weapon drawn as well. Within moments, they were aware of a commotion out in the corridor-banging noises as the Starfleet boarding party attempted to force their way through the doors, punctuated by occasional phaser blasts impacting against the metal. The racket increased in intensity, finally culminating in the sound of a shrill whine.

Kruge looked to his left, to his right, and above his head. "What's that noise?" he demanded.

Suddenly all fell silent. Then from behind them, at the fore of the bridge, a clear, commanding voice rang out. "Don't turn around. It would be so dishonorable to have to shoot you all in the back. Now, all of you, drop your weapons."

They did so. Seconds later, the bridge doors finally opened and Sulu entered, Chekov rushing in just behind him. The two men gathered up the a.s.sortment of dropped weapons, then ordered the four Klingon officers to place their hands upon their heads and to move toward the row of consoles on the port side of the bridge.

As Kruge turned, accompanied by his defeated men, he saw Thelin standing alone in front of the viewscreen. "You transported in here!" he grumbled, then stared coldly at Maltz. "I thought no one else could transport through the shields!"

Thelin looked at him with amus.e.m.e.nt. "No one else transported through the shields, you fool," he said. "I transported onto the bridge from your own transporter room."

The bridge intercom chirped, and the voice of a guard was heard from the lower deck. "Brig to Kruge! I have the Starfleet admiral! What are your orders, my lord?"

The three Starfleet officers exchanged hurried glances. "I'm on it," Sulu said, and he dashed through the doors and down the corridor.

The Klingon guard in the brig was growing visibly agitated as he shouted into his communicator. "Commander Kruge, come in! I have two prisoners on the lower deck! Requesting instructions!"

"Sounds like he's indisposed right now," Kirk observed. "Perhaps you should leave a message, and he can get back to you later."

"Shut up, human!" the Klingon spat, raising his weapon. "My last orders were to kill the prisoner. Perhaps I should carry out that order."

Kirk and David each took a step back, stumbling slightly as they crossed the threshold at the entrance to the cell. The exit into the outer corridor beckoned about ten feet away, but they couldn't possibly outrun a disruptor blast to reach it. "There's no need to kill anyone," Kirk argued. "We're your hostages. You can use us as leverage; take back the ship."

With a flurry of footsteps, Sulu rushed through the entryway.

"Stop!" the Klingon shouted. "Drop your weapon or these two men are dead."

Sulu raised his hands, his own weapon pointed benignly at the ceiling as he looked about the outer area of the brig, a.s.sessing the situation. "All right," he said calmly. "Don't do anything hasty. I'll toss you my phaser, okay?" He kept his left hand held high as he let the phaser hang loosely in his right, holding the grip by his fingertips. Slowly he stepped up to the entrance of the cell, leaning down to the ground, prepared to slide the weapon toward the Klingon guard.

And as he knelt, his left hand touched the control panel at the side of the cell entrance, engaging the forcefield.

The Klingon looked about as the shimmering bands of energy left him trapped within the cell. "Hey!" he shouted angrily. He fired his phaser into the forcefield, only to watch the bolt harmlessly dissipate throughout the barrier.

"Well, that was easy," Sulu said. "Admiral, the bridge has been secured."

"Good work, Mister Sulu. We need to go back to the main deck and see if a Klingon officer is still aft, in engineering."

"Oh, him? I intercepted him on the way down here. He was led by some large smelly animal. I had to stun that thing twice."

"Excellent," Kirk said, smiling. "Get back up there and get the rest of the crew secured."

"Aye, sir. And it's good to have you back, Doctor Marcus." Sulu turned and dashed back up the stairs.

Kirk and David remained in the brig, along with the Klingon guard who now sat morosely upon the bench in the cell. Kirk stared at David with contrition. "I'm sorry I couldn't get here sooner."

"You came," David replied. "That's all that matters."

And they warmly embraced, poignantly aware for the first time of the unbreakable bond between father and son.

The mood was jovial as Kirk and David entered the bridge of the Katai, and the Enterprise officers each in turn expressed their elation at David's safe rescue, his terrible injuries notwithstanding. Kruge and his three officers remained under guard on the port side of the bridge, scowling with disgust as they overlooked the proceedings. The image of the nearby Enterprise shone proudly upon the viewscreen.

Before long, the unconscious members of Kruge's crew had been safely secured in the brig. The two small cells were not terribly accommodating, especially when most of the occupants were lying prostrate upon the floor; Kirk suggested that the remaining four officers be housed in the Enterprise brig, where Kirk would have ample opportunity on the trip home to question Kruge about just how widespread support was among the Klingon High Council for his operation.

"Gentlemen," Kirk said, "Sulu and Chekov will stay behind to pilot the bird-of-prey. Thelin, I'll beam over first with David and prepare the Enterprise to receive the prisoners."

The rest of the crew nodded their a.s.sent. Kirk looked at David, a young man troubled and traumatized, but presently at peace, knowing that he was returning home. Kirk's son was safe, and all was right with the cosmos.

"I want to thank you all again," Kirk quietly offered to his crewmates. "You've all risked your lives and careers, and I will never forget it."

Chekov motioned toward the exit. "Admiral, may I have the honor of transporting you back to your wessel?"

"As you wish, Commander," Kirk replied. He flipped open his communicator as he and David followed Chekov through the doors. "Scotty, lower the Enterprise shields and prepare for transport."

"Aye, sir," came the reply, and then the bridge doors closed behind them.

Doctor McCoy had just completed his final diagnostic procedures upon the calmly seated Saavik as the silence on the Enterprise bridge was pierced by the sound of two transporter beams penetrating the open area between the helm and the viewscreen. James Kirk, once fully materialized, stepped forward and looked about the bridge of his ship with satisfaction. Beside him, David spied Saavik among the rear consoles, and gingerly but rapidly rushed back to meet her. She stood, and they threw their arms around each other, sharing the joy and relief at their newfound freedom.

Smiling, Kirk followed his son, pausing to pat Scotty on the back as the engineer sat at an operations console monitoring the automation systems that continued to run the ship in the absence of a crew. Finally Kirk stopped in front of McCoy, who was still busily checking the readouts on his medical tricorder. "Well, Doctor," the admiral said. "Is our first patient doing well?"

"Surprisingly well," McCoy said. "No sign of any physical trauma. She's a little weak; probably hasn't eaten much during her captivity. But she'll be fine." He turned to face David, who had released Saavik from his embrace and had dropped into the chair next to hers, allowing himself to rest for the first time that day, if not in months. "Oh my G.o.d," McCoy said, noticing for the first time the severed limb. He adjusted the tricorder for the relevant diagnostic and began waving the scanner over the amputation site. He then readjusted the settings, and proceeded to scan David's entire relaxed form.

Kirk looked on anxiously. "How is he, Bones?"

McCoy gave a slight shrug. "Physically, his wounds have all healed. Not surprisingly, he's suffering some long-term effects of stress, but those will subside in time. But Jim...Lord only knows what they've been through psychologically. They're going to need more help than what I can offer."

"We're fine," David said. He looked over to Saavik, who smiled back at him meekly, but her uncertain expression suggested that she likely did not share his sunny self-diagnosis. "What?" David responded with indignity. "We were pretty much left alone the whole time we were held on Praxis. We never even saw Kruge while we were there."

Saavik turned to Kirk. "We were placed with the general population at a detention facility in one of the smaller mining towns on the surface of the Klingon moon, presumably so that Kruge could conceal his plans from the authorities on Qo'noS," she explained. "The inmates were mostly petty criminals. There was little significant danger."

"The Klingons were just normal people," David said. "I got to know a few of them. Just people-who had families, and their own hopes and dreams. Nothing like that Kruge," he said with a scowl. "That man is insane with paranoia."

"I'm not surprised," Kirk said. "You know, he's afraid of you."

"Huh?" David said incredulously. "Afraid of me? Why?"

"They fear the power you hold over them."

David shook his head. "I certainly never meant for anyone to fear me or my work."

"Best laid plans of mice and men," McCoy said.

David struggled to remember the significance of the phrase. "I don't understand. That's from a book, isn't it?"