The Brave And The Bold Book Two Part 17

The unthinkable happened when DeSoto moved to attach the final Instrument into the corner that would fill out the Great Rectangle. A much less pleasant surge went through Malkus-feedback on an incredible scale. If the other two attachments were like magnets coming together, the final Instrument repelled the other like magnets of the same pole.

Malkus had thought himself beyond feeling pain, but he was wrong.

That pain was transmitted to his thralls, as all across the planet and in orbit, thousands of beings screamed in agony.

The moment pa.s.sed, then, and Malkus surveyed the ground before him. The four thralls had collapsed to the ground in great pain. One of them-McCoy-was frail and had difficulty getting back up, but the others rose to their feet with little difficulty.

Three-quarters of the Great Rectangle was a.s.sembled, at least. His powers had been boosted-his control was even greater. To test it, he infected all those imprisoned in the sports arena on the largest continent with the adrenal virus. They would die before long. In fact, knowing this species, they would probably react to the heightened adrenaline levels by ma.s.sacring each other long before the virus did its work.

But something was wrong with the last Instrument. And he could not inspect it for himself.

Of his four thralls, only Spock had had any opportunity to study the Instruments, so Malkus instructed him to examine it. Malkus suspected that there was a flaw in it, since he had not been able to feel when that particular Instrument had been uncovered. According to DeSoto's memories, an Andorian named Tharia ch'Ren had used it to sow chaos in a then-disputed region of s.p.a.ce. Malkus wished he had been able to see the destruction that had been wrought in his name.

Spock hesitated. Examine the Instrument! Malkus mentally bellowed, and this time the thrall obeyed.

It was odd that the halfbreed had been able to hesitate so. Malkus's control should have been complete. Perhaps that feedback was worse than he thought....

"There is a flaw," Spock said, and with the halfbreed's eyes, Malkus saw that he was correct. There was a small opening in one of the corners of the Instrument, virtually undetectable unless one was actively seeking it out-he was glad he had chosen the halfbreed Vulcan, as his eyesight was superior to that of the two humans or the Bajoran.

Kira had a scanning device in her possession, and Malkus instructed her to use it on the Instrument.

As he had surmised, there was a component missing.

Unfortunately, a scan of DeSoto's memories showed that the human captain did not know precisely where the Instrument had been found. The best it could be narrowed down to was a particular area of s.p.a.ce.

Worse, it was an area of s.p.a.ce that was currently politically unstable: on the border between a once-great power that had recently lost a war and a still-great power that had won it.

He had to have the component.

Of the four thralls, Kira was by far the most skilled pilot, and she also knew the region of s.p.a.ce well. He instructed her to take one of the conveyances-the one marked with the name St. Lawrence-and travel to that region of s.p.a.ce to find the component.

A part of Malkus bridled under the delay, but it was a small part. Patience. That was, and always would be, his greatest a.s.set. He had waited this long, after all. The time it would take Kira to find the last component and complete the Great Rectangle was infinitesimal by comparison.

Soon...

A confusing ma.s.s of light and sound a.s.saulted B'Oraq as she regained consciousness. Half-formed noises and blurred images started to slowly coalesce into something she could justifiably interpret as real or familiar-up to and including a dull ache in the top of her skull.

I truly hate being sedated, she thought. The curse of being a physician was that she knew precisely what the drugs did to her and what the potential long-term effects were, so she was hyperaware of the precise damage to her bloodstream-and, thanks to the headache, her cranium-caused by the sedative that Admiral McCoy had given her.

McCoy. It was absurd on the face of it. Why would a century-and-a-half-old human in the middle of a shuttle journey from the base on Tynrok to Qo'noS subdue the doctor who had invited him in the first place?

"Are you all right, Doctor?"

Finally, B'Oraq focused on what it was her eyes told her, especially since she recognized the voice-which matched the face that stood over her p.r.o.ne form, looking vaguely concerned.

"Am-Amba.s.sador Worf?"

"Yes."

"What are you doing here? How did you get on board?" She sat up, which only made her headache worse. She had been lying on the very QongDaq that McCoy had been whining about.

"I do not know," Worf said. "I was in a runabout en route to Khitomer when Amba.s.sador Spock subdued me with the Vulcan neck attack. I awoke on this shuttle."

"I need to check on the pilots-" She started to get up from the QongDaq, but Worf put a restraining hand on her shoulder.

"They are both fine-as are my pilots. They are attempting to dismantle the forcefield that surrounds the runabout."

She got up anyhow, despite the amba.s.sador's hand. "Where are we?"

"The shuttle's systems are offline. However, according to the readings we have been able to obtain with hand scanners, we are on Narendra III."

B'Oraq shook her head in confusion. "Narendra III? Why would McCoy bring us here?"

"I do not know," Worf repeated.

"Didn't Spock and McCoy serve together in Starfleet?"

Worf nodded. "For many years on the U.S.S. Enterprise."

A half-remembered history course came back to her. "And the Enterprise was destroyed at Narendra III. Perhaps this is connected?"

"Unlikely," Worf said. "The Enterprise that sacrificed itself on this world was not the same one that the amba.s.sador and the admiral served on." He took a breath. "If you are all right, Doctor, I will continue to aid the others in attempting to bypa.s.s the forcefield."

"Of course. I'll-I'll help."

B'Oraq had expected some kind of objection, but the amba.s.sador simply nodded, and they both exited the aft chamber of Klag's personal craft and went to the fore. She found herself admiring the amba.s.sador. She had only met him once before, when the Gorkon brought him to his mission on taD, but she had had very little interaction with him then. He's quite attractive, she thought. And if memory serves, his mate died during the war. Perhaps when this is over...

She cut the thought off, filing it away for later use, a.s.suming they got out of whatever mess McCoy had put her into.

She saw her two pilots-Davok and G'joth-and two humans in Starfleet uniforms all bent over a console.

Upon Worf and B'Oraq's entrance, the human male stood up. "The forcefield's definitely being powered from the outside, sir. And all this ship's systems are completely dead."

B'Oraq looked over at the viewport. She hadn't even realized that the only light source in the aft compartment had come from the viewport in there, and now she realized the same was true of the flight compartment up front. When night fell on Narendra III, they'd be plunged into darkness. Although, she thought, there was light in the corridor, too. She then inhaled; the air didn't seem to be stale. "Is life-support also cut off?"

G'joth said, "Yes, ma'am. However, the forcefield is air-permeable, and the rear hatch is still open."

That explained the light in the corridor-she had only to have looked behind her to have seen that.

"How soon until sunset?" Worf asked.

Davok answered. "Five hours."

Nodding, Worf said, "Then we have that long to come up with a way to overload the forcefield. I will need all the weapons on board this ship, and any handheld devices-scanners, communicators, anything with an independent power source."

"What are you planning?" B'Oraq asked.

Before Worf could answer, the human female said, "You want to try to create a pulse to knock out the forcefield?"

"That is my intention, Ensign McKenna."

Making a snorting noise, Davok said, "That may work on Starfleet forcefields, but these are Klingon fields. They are made of sterner stuff."

"I would suggest, bekk, that you hope your a.s.sumption is incorrect if you wish to get out of here."

Davok snarled, but said nothing.

The five of them worked, cannibalizing anything they could lay their hands on-even some of the dead equipment from the shuttle itself. B'Oraq's medical equipment had been removed-along with the shuttle's armory stores, though Davok, G'joth, and Worf all carried weapons on their persons that had not been taken-so she felt particularly helpless. Her technical skills were nonexistent-that's what engineers were for. Her only use would be if someone was injured. And then what? I can tell them to put pressure on their wound or watch helplessly if they need more than that. I have no bandages, no scanners, no alcohol- Suddenly, a thought occurred. She went back into the aft compartment, and found what she had hoped would be under the QongDaq: half a case of bloodwine.

Worf had followed her. "What did you find?"

"Bloodwine. I'm attempting to a.s.semble what medical equipment I can, and this is the closest to a disinfectant we have."

The amba.s.sador looked pensive. "We may be able to use that as well-for weaponry."

B'Oraq frowned. "You're going to drink your enemy to death?"

"No." Worf almost smiled.

He was remarkably taciturn for a Klingon. She wondered why that was. A by-product of living among humans, no doubt, she thought. Having lived among them herself during her time at Starfleet Medical, she knew how fragile they could be-most were physically incapable of handling Klingon pa.s.sion.

He continued. "Have you ever heard of a human weapon called a Molotov c.o.c.ktail?"

"Uh, no."

"It involves lighting a fire on a rag attached to the neck of a bottle of alcohol."

Understanding, B'Oraq nodded. "Of course. You get a fire grenade."

"Of sorts, yes. Since we have needed to use the weapons to power our-device."

Now B'Oraq smiled. "'Device'?"

"We have yet to come up with a name for it," Worf said dryly. "Lieutenant Falce wishes to call it 'Fred.'"

"As good a name as any," B'Oraq said with a shrug.

"I prefer more-direct terms."

"Yes, but 'forcefield overloader' doesn't have much poetry to it."

"True. Shall we return to the fore?"

"I will be right there," she said. "I want to see if there is anything else I can use in case someone-"

A scream came from the fore compartment.

B'Oraq sighed. "Gets hurt."

Both doctor and amba.s.sador ran back up front to find the human male-what was his name? Falce?-on the deck convulsing.

The woman-McKenna-said, "There was feedback-somebody didn't align the circuits properly." This last was said with a look at Davok.

Predictably, Davok responded by unsheathing his d'k tahg."Are you accusing me of something, human?"

B'Oraq knelt down beside Falce. He was a young human of considerable height for his species-which made him average by Klingon standards-with close-cropped black hair. At present, all that hair was standing on end, thanks to the shock he'd received. B'Oraq felt naked without her scanner, but the galvanic response of Falce's skin was already lessening. She suspected this was an intense, but brief, surge of electricity through his system.

"What-what-what-what happened?" Falce managed to ask.

"This idiot didn't align the circuits the way he was supposed to," McKenna said.

"That is enough, woman!" Davok cried, and lunged at McKenna with his blade. G'joth made no move to stop him, but simply stood smiling.

Worf started to move to intercept the bekk, but before he could, McKenna herself deflected the attack and, in one smooth motion, relieved Davok of his d'k tahg. Then she twisted his arm around to his back, immobilizing him. It looked to B'Oraq like a poorly executed mok'bara maneuver-probably something from some human martial art.

Then she threw Davok to the floor. G'joth bent over, picked up Davok's d'k tahg, and handed it to his fellow bekk with a smile. "I think you dropped this, Davok."

Growling, Davok s.n.a.t.c.hed the blade and started to get up, when a deep voice rang out in the shuttle.

"Enough!" It was Worf. "If you wish to squabble like children, do it another time! We have work to do!" In a quieter voice, he said to Davok, "If you wish to challenge Ensign McKenna, do so after the crisis has pa.s.sed. But not now."

"When a woman spreads lies, there is always time for a challenge!"

Worf then grabbed Davok by his chestplate and pulled him close with one hand. With the other, he held the device that they had been working on. B'Oraq hadn't even noticed Worf picking it up.

"You were aligning these circuits when I went aft moments ago. They are now misaligned, and Lieutenant Falce is injured. Did she spread lies or simply state facts?"

Davok's face contorted, but he said nothing.

Worf let go of him and turned to B'Oraq. "How is he?"

"I think he'll be fine." B'Oraq hoped her voice carried more confidence than she felt. "He needs to take it easy for a bit-and stay away from any live current-but he should recover."

"Good." He turned to the others. "We will finish this so we can overload the forcefield and leave this shuttle. Then we will find who has done this to us and we will defeat them. Personal issues can wait. Am I understood?"

"Perfectly," G'joth said jovially and with a large grin.

"Understood, sir," McKenna said.

Davok said nothing. Worf turned to him. "Am I understood?"

"You don't have any authority over me, petaQ. You are a traitor to the empire twice over who gave up a life of glory to be an amba.s.sador of fools. I will not follow your orders."

"Very well," Worf said.

Then he reached into an inner pocket of his jacket, took out a tiny hand phaser, and fired it on Davok, who collapsed to the deck.

B'Oraq dashed over to the fallen bekk."It was on stun," Worf said. The doctor checked Davok over and saw that he showed all the outward symptoms of a phaser blast on the stun setting-which meant that he'd sleep not-very-peacefully and wake up at some point in an even worse mood.