Errand of Fury Book 1 Page 11

  “We will…” Fuller began. Then he saw something in her eyes and before he could stop himself he said, “Did you do this on purpose?”

  “What?”

  “To try to keep me here?”

  Her eyes widened in hurt and anger. For a moment, she didn’t speak. Then she said, “You arrogant…”

  “I’m sorry.”

  His squad was called again on the loudspeaker, but he was lost in his own thoughts. Then he realized that Alison was speaking again. Her tone was cold. “…we will be having a baby.”

  For the tenth time in the last few minutes, that fact stunned him. He tried not to show it and said, “And I want to help in any way I can,” he said, feeling embarrassed by the emptiness of his words, given the circumstances.

  “Of course,” she said.

  Someone tugged at his arm. Andrews was there, looking embarrassed for him. “They’re holding the shuttle, but we have to leave now.”

  Fuller nodded and said, “I’ll be right there.”

  Andrews nodded and turned away to give them some privacy.

  “You have to go,” Alison said.

  “Yes, but I’ll contact you as soon as I can.”

  “Sure,” she said. Then Fuller leaned down to kiss her again, but took one look at the stony expression on her face and pulled away without completing the gesture. As he pulled back, she said, “Good-bye, Michael,” and turned away.

  Andrews gave him a tug, “Come on. They’re holding the shuttle, but the Endeavour can’t wait. It’s shipping out immediately.” Fuller barely heard him. He felt lightheaded, and his stomach was still in knots. “We’ve got our first mission,” Andrews continued.

  That got through.

  “What is it?” Fuller asked.

  “Resupply for a border colony. The Donatu system.”

  “Never heard of it.”

  “You’ll never see it if we don’t hurry,” Andrews said, breaking into a jog. Fuller followed him, feeling guilty that his growing excitement over his first posting was already pushing away thoughts of Alison and her news.

  Chapter Eight

  U.S.S. ENTERPRISE

  STARBASE 56

  2267

  “ENSIGN FULLER AND ENSIGN PARMET, report to the briefing room in thirty minutes,” the voice said over the intercom. Fuller was immediately alert, roused from his twilight haze—you couldn’t call it sleep. He checked the time: it was 0700. He would have to go directly from the briefing to his Federation history class. Fortunately, he had reviewed the material already and would be ready to teach without any more preparation.

  Parmet stirred and woke slowly. He was still young and inexperienced enough to sleep heavily. That would change quickly. Anyone who spent more than a few months in security learned to sleep lightly and wake quickly.

  “What is it?” Parmet asked.

  “We’ve been summoned to the briefing room,” Fuller replied.

  “What’s going on?”

  Fuller shrugged. “We’ll find out at 0730.”

  Fuller was out the door a few minutes later as Parmet was still getting into his uniform. In the last few weeks at home he had often forgotten to eat for as long as a day, but he knew he could not afford to do anything like that on board. Someone might notice. So he ate quickly and mechanically, though he noticed the onboard food had improved since he last served on a ship.

  Fuller arrived at the briefing room to find Giotto and Parrish waiting for him. “Fuller,” Giotto said, nodding and gesturing for him to take a seat. Fuller had never crossed paths with Giotto, though he knew of the man’s reputation. Giotto had served with Captain Garth and had been part of the debacle that had ended Garth’s Starfleet career.

  Fuller took a seat and waited. Moments later, Parmet arrived, along with the others from his squad. As soon as everyone was seated, Giotto started speaking. “The captain has authorized me to brief you on two of the ship’s recent missions that bear directly on the current situation between the Federation and the Klingon Empire.”

  Makes sense, Fuller realized. The ship’s recent missions were highly classified. However, there were over four hundred people on board who had been there. The new recruits would have to be briefed, even if the information was far above their security clearance. Fuller was instantly hyperalert. He realized that he was going to get some of the answers he had been looking for in the next few minutes.

  Giotto pointed to the viewscreen that showed an image of a planetary system. A stardate appeared on top. “Several weeks ago, the Enterprise responded to a distress call from an unsanctioned colony in System 1324, where a small group of Anti-Federation League squatters had settled. Three security squads were dispatched and came under fire from a group of Orions. At the same time, Orion vessels engaged the Enterprise. There were some heavy losses among the security personnel, and the ship suffered considerable damage. However, almost all of the colonists were rescued and the attacking Orion vessels were destroyed. Remarkably, the second planet of System 1324, which suffered the attack, did not have any strategic importance or resources of any significant value.”

  Some of those details Fuller already knew, but that last piece of information caught his interest. Why take on a starship if there was nothing to gain? The answer started to formulate in his head even as Giotto spoke the words. “We had reason to believe that the Enterprise’s capabilities as well as the weapons and tactics of Starfleet security were being tested by the Orions. Since that information would be of little use to the Orions, we think they were working for another government. Now, given the current political climate, you might be tempted to jump to the conclusion that the Orions were working for the Klingons, but I can tell you that we have no conclusive evidence that this was the case. Personally, however, I have no doubt that that is exactly what happened, because a short time later the Enterprise was sent to investigate illegal Orion mining activity on the third planet of System 7348. We found a large core-mining operation that threatened to destroy the planet, as well as an indigenous group of intelligent humanoids who were genetically identical to Klingons. The Enterprise shut down the mine and prevented the Orion fail-safe system from destroying the planet.”

  Giotto paused for just a moment and said, “On that planet, we found conclusive evidence that the Orions were operating the mine under Klingon supervision to provide dilithium for the Klingon Empire’s military buildup.”

  Everyone in the room seemed to hold their collective breath at that revelation. Parmet was the first to speak, “But you said the indigenous people on the planet were genetic Klingons. Yet the mining operation threatened the entire planet?”

  “No,” Giotto said, “the operation did not just threaten the planet. It would have definitely destroyed the planet and all beings on the surface if it had been allowed to continue.” There was silence again as the new recruits processed that.

  Fuller had fought Klingons and found them ruthless in their treatment of humans in battle. He had also studied their history to the extent that you could by looking at Federation and Starfleet records. It was both brutal and violent. Even so, to destroy a planet full of their own people to gain some dilithium…

  Klingons, he thought. Like the ones who had killed Sam.

  But his son had not died on either of those missions—the dates were wrong—though Sam had probably served on one or both of them. Then the image on the viewscreen changed again, showing a starbase that Fuller recognized. The date was what really struck him. It would have been right about the time Sam died. “Then there was an incident on Starbase 42, which had been set for decommissioning until a significant amount of dilithium was found in the core of the planet it was orbiting. Due to a significant security breach, the Klingons had apparently learned of a secret program to extract the dilithium. Presumably, in an effort to replace the supply lost during the incident at System 7348, the Klingons attacked the starbase and tried to take the dilithium from the planet. Through the combined efforts of the Enterprise and the starba
se personnel, the Klingons were repelled, but there were heavy losses.”

  Heavy losses…

  The words echoed in Fuller’s head. He had been on many missions where his ship had suffered heavy losses. He knew what the words meant in both abstract and all too real terms. Yet those same words seemed shallow and empty now. For a moment he wanted to get up and scream. Sam wasn’t “heavy losses.” Sam was his son, at one time his little boy. He had been brave and good and then he had been murdered by Klingons in their lust to attack, to take, to rule.

  Using all of his will, Fuller kept himself perfectly still, carefully controlling his breathing and every muscle in his face.

  Giotto kept speaking, his words fading out for a moment, unable to compete with the roar in Fuller’s head. “…further details are now available to you on your personal computer terminals. You are cleared to access relevant logs and computer records.”

  These were records that Fuller was now sure would show that his son had died defending Starbase 42 from Klingon animals. What had Sam’s sacrifice bought them?

  Fuller knew the answer to that: It had bought the Federation and Starfleet a few extra weeks to prepare for the coming Klingon onslaught. The Enterprise had kept precious dilithium from the Klingons twice, no doubt forcing them to delay and change plans.

  Sam had given them all a chance, an opportunity to live that was paid for with his own blood. He had also given his father a chance to see justice done, to give his son’s life and death more meaning, to see that the sacrifice was not wasted. His son had given him an opportunity to atone for his own failures as a father and a man, a final chance to redeem himself.

  Fuller vowed not to waste it.

  “Unacceptable,” Scott said.

  Kyle could see that Scott was angry. His jaw was set and his eyes were blazing as he looked at the parts strewn around them in the phaser control room.

  “Some of these components weren’t in the specifications I received.” Scott’s voice was tight. Kyle instinctively stepped closer to Scott and saw that Steele’s aide, Lieutenant Anthony, did the same with his superior.

  When angry, Scott was very intimidating to both his staff and anyone who happened to be in the area. Lieutenant Commander Steele, however, was not intimidated. She leaned toward him and said, “There are some late additions, but we’ve run simulations on the entire system. They check out.”

  “Simulations?” Scott bellowed. “This is not a lab, lass—a starship is the real thing. Mistakes get people killed. If something fails, people die—and there’s no reset button to rerun the simulation. Out there systems have to work, every time.”

  “And every one of those systems was designed in a lab and refined in computer simulations,” Steele countered. Kyle noted that her southern accent became more pronounced when she was angry. Similarly, so did the chief engineer’s Scottish accent.

  “And then it’s tested and retested in the field before the final specifications are written,” Scott said, his voice rising another notch. By now, all work had stopped as the combined group of starbase and Enterprise engineers did their best not to look at their two leaders.

  “Specifications? Don’t throw specs at me. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you are the man who cold-started your warp engines, yes?”

  For a moment, Scott was at a loss for words. Then he recovered. “That was a different situation, we had no choice but to try it or burn up in an atmosphere.”

  Steele’s face softened. “And we have no choice here. We need this new phaser system, and we both know why.” She took a breath and added, “You starship engineers love improvisation—as long as it’s yours.”

  Kyle saw that that one had hit home, and Scott was silent for a long moment. Finally, he said, “We do what we have to do, and we’re right because we have to be. And the upgrades we make in the field often work better than the stuff you dream up in your labs.”

  Now it was Steele’s turn to be silent. It was true. Many of the important advances made in engineering were made on the fly by starship chief engineers. The cold-start technique for warp engines was only one example.

  The room went completely silent as the two engineers stared at each other. Then, as if by unspoken communication, they both softened, and Kyle could feel the tension in the room dissipate like the final moments of an ion storm.

  To Kyle’s surprise, Steele smiled and said, “Then, once it’s installed, it will be up to you and your people to make sure that the new design works, however flawed it may be.”

  Scott smiled grimly at that and said, “Aye.”

  Suddenly, the confrontation was over and Steele walked over to the control panel to talk to one of her staff. At the same time, Scott turned to him and said, “If I didn’t know better, I would have said it was impossible for all this to fit.”

  Kyle noted that the chief engineer’s voice was even, as if he hadn’t been nearly shouting a moment before. It was typical of his commanding officer; he was quick to anger and quick to calm down again.

  Shaking his head, Kyle looked at the components strewn about the phaser control room. There were more components in the corridor. It wouldn’t all fit in the space they had. Logic told him that they would need a bigger ship for the new phaser bank system, but the blueprints on the computer terminal viewer told him it would work on the Enterprise.

  “Even if it works, we’ll be giving up a lot of flexibility in the system,” Kyle said. He knew that it was one of the trade-offs that was bothering Scott. The phaser banks had more energy within a fairly narrow frequency range—the frequency range that would be most effective against Klingon shields. The new phasers would be very effective against Klingons, though less effective against other threats. Of course, the Klingons were the only major threat on the horizon at the moment.

  “Aye,” Scott replied. “But the power gain is something.” It took a lot for Scott to admit that, Kyle knew. The new system did manage a huge increase in phaser power and was a good piece of engineering—if it worked. At its heart was a power shunting system that would draw phaser power from other systems on the ship.

  Steele approached and said, “We’re looking at war, gentlemen. It is serious business, but if we come through this all right, we’ll be able to apply the energy across the whole spectrum. Imagine what that power would do against an asteroid threatening a colony. Now imagine the whole system drawing power from the warp engines.”

  “What?” Scott asked.

  “It’s the future, gentlemen. Let’s get to work and I’ll tell you all about it,” Steele replied, giving him a quick smile.

  Kyle grabbed his tools and started on the cooling system console in front of him. The new system really was incredible, a miracle of miniaturization and layout, packing a remarkable amount of equipment into the available space.

  “Commander Steele is very good,” Kyle said to her aide.

  “No, she’s not, she’s magic,” Anthony said, his voice and expression neutral. “The great ones always are.”

  Kyle nodded. It was as good a description of Mister Scott’s abilities as he had ever heard.

  Fuller was the first to arrive. The others came moments later. Once the squad was assembled, Lieutenant Parrish said, “There will be no shore leave on the starbase.” There were groans of complaint that echoed in the ship’s gymnasium.

  Finally, one of them spoke. “Where does that order come from?”

  “From me,” Parrish said. The room was deadly quiet after that. “I may have very little time left with you.” Parrish had told her squad about her pregnancy. It was unusual—unheard of, actually. The father had been part of her squad and they had both served under Sam. In fact, the father of Parrish’s child had died with Sam on Starbase 42. There was a strange look in Parrish’s eyes when she talked about it. Fuller had the feeling there was more to the story, but he wasn’t going to ask.

  Taking an appraising look at Parrish, Fuller saw that she was not yet showing, but he knew it wouldn’t be long. “In t
he time I have left I am going to try to give you the benefit of what I have learned in my time in Starfleet. You know what you will likely be facing. And if you come face-to-face with a Klingon warrior, you will be glad you gave up a little off-duty time to learn a few things that might save your life. Come with me.” She led them to the matted area in the rear of the gym.

  Fuller’s eyes went immediately to the equipment rack, and his blood went cold. Instead of the regular equipment, there were Klingon weapons, blades of different kinds that Fuller recognized. In fact, though it had been more than twenty-five years since he had last seen them, he found that he remembered those weapons very well.

  A chill ran down Fuller’s spine. For a moment he found it hard to breathe. Then he sensed movement nearby and looked to one side to see that Ensign Parmet had taken a step toward him and was watching him closely. Fuller cleared his throat and smiled once at the younger man. Then he turned his attention forward again.

  “In close fighting situations—say, on board a starship or inside a starbase—Klingons favor bladed hand weapons. The obvious advantage blades provide is that they present a far smaller risk of damage to the hull of a ship that might lead to decompression. Hand weapons have allowed Klingons to take ships virtually intact. Now, I know you have all had Starfleet’s hand-to-hand fighting training, which includes techniques to use against blades. Think of this as an extension course that will deal with a few things I have learned about Klingons. I was able to find out a little from the Starfleet database. We also have among us a veteran of a battle with a Klingon boarding party, Michael Fuller.”

  Suddenly, all eyes were on Fuller. He kept his face neutral and simply nodded. Looking directly at him, Parrish said, “Mister Fuller, much of what I found in the Starfleet training database came from you. Please show us what you know, and also the defenses you developed.”

  Without hesitation, Fuller stepped forward. He headed for the equipment rack and picked out the largest blade. It was a heavy, two-sided blade shaped like a semicircle. It actually looked like two blades stuck together with one larger, outer edge and one smaller, inner edge. The dual-bladed design gave the weapon four points, which Fuller knew from experience were very deadly. There were three evenly spaced grips on the outer edge. Fuller used two of them to pick up the weapon.