Hacker Chronicles 2/HACKER2.BIN/536.CHAP#6.TXT

Text File | 1993-03-01 | 30KB | 656 lines

                             ***    SIX    ***



            "Permission to come aboard," requested Captain James T. Kirk,
       as he stepped down from the shuttlecraft, his First Officer behind
       him.

            "Permission granted, Captain," the young ensign stated.  "If
       you will follow me, I'll escort you to the briefing room."

            The Captain followed, as did the Enterprise's Science Officer.
       A team of 'Intelligence Grey' clad officers filed aboard the
       Columbus with antigravs to carry the cargo to their specialized
       analysis chambers.

            "This way, Sirs," the junior officer said as they rounded the
       corner, leaving the Javelin's hanger bay behind.  "It must be
       pretty dusty out there.  Our bay crew will have your ship polished
       by the time you are ready to leave."

            "Thank you, Ensign," said Kirk as he observed various crewmen
       briskly walking through the corridors.  "How much damage did you
       sustain passing through the concussion wave?"

            "Minimal, Sir. We shut down sensors before we neared the
       system, per your instructions.  The initial force had time to
       diminish and the asteroids had spread out enough to permit safe
       passage.  Though how you made it through must have been a miracle."

            "Very likely," smiled the Captain.  He was proud of the
       performance of his crew.  Always beating the odds.  As crews went, he
       believed he had the best, but sometimes he could not help but
       think that it had to be more than human effort and chance that they
       had been so fortunate in their many times of trouble.

            "In here, Sirs."  The door opened to a conference room.  Jim
       and Spock entered, trailed by the ensign.  They were greeted by a
       short and stocky man.  Troy Hamill was his name, Captain of the USS
       Javelin.

            "Welcome aboard, Captain Kirk, Mr. Spock.  I'll make the
       introductions, then take my leave."  Behind Captain Hamill,
       standing next to a broad table of rare black Diri wood, stood two
       men.  The first, a tall silver-haired man with strong chiseled
       features, wearing Commodore's braids and insignia.  Jim recognized
       this man as Commodore Stormcloud.  Captain Hamill introduced him.
       He saluted in rigid military fashion.  Jim and Spock responded
       accordingly.  The second man was unknown to Jim.  He was introduced
       as Lieutenant Reudolpho Grensk.  Grensk was slightly shorter than
       the Commodore, but equally as formal in his military dress and
       mannerisms.

            Jim knew, on the spot, that the proceedings would adhere to
       stiff military form.  Little or no informal pleasantries.
       Something told him that further-reaching ramifications had occurred

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       than just the loss of Elba II.

            "I'll be on the bridge, Commodore, gentlemen." he saluted
       then exited the room, followed by the ensign who had been escort to
       Kirk and Spock.

            "Captain Kirk, Commander Spock, be seated," ordered Commodore
       Stormcloud.  He glanced down to the ebony table and spoke to the
       console embedded in it.  "Computer on," he said, as both he and the
       lieutenant sat.  "Recorder on," he added.

            "Recorder on," spoke the computer, whose digitized voice
       reminded Jim of the Enterprise's head nurse.

            "Let the record show that I,  Nathanial P. Stormcloud,
       security clearance Alpha-Alpha-Beta, open this inquiry and
       temporarily extend the aforementioned clearance to all in this
       room.  Proceed with scan verification."

            The center of the table showed no seam; it looked as if it had
       always been a single sheet of dark wood.  A moment later a split
       appeared in the center, revealing a set of doors.  The doors parted
       and out came a scanning armature that rose up to the Commodore's
       eye level.  A beam of low intensity laser light emitted from the
       scanner, and began recording the retina pattern of his right eye,
       cross-referencing and verifying that it was indeed, Commodore
       Nathanial P. Stormcloud who issued the command.

            "Verification complete.  99.8 percent accuracy," it stated.
       The armature then scanned the entire room, noting only three other
       officers present.  It followed the same procedures as before.  Each
       officer stated his name and received the proper verification.

            "Security clearances altered according to command," it stated,
       then folded itself up and closed the doors behind it, becoming a
       seamless tabletop once again.

            "Captain Kirk," began Stormcloud, "recount for the record, the
       events from first receiving the distress signal, to our arrival.
       Include a summary of all communications to and from the USS
       Enterprise."

            Jim sighed to himself.  This was the part of being the Captain
       of a Starship that he liked the least.

            Stormcloud stared at the Captain with a firm gaze throughout
       the entire debriefing, only looking down at his monitor to confirm
       the given times of messages passed and received.  Spock noted his
       lack of emotion, as the Captain spoke, and inwardly paid his
       respects to the man.

            One hour and ten minutes later the Captain ended with, as
       requested, the arrival of Javelin.  He was relieved to reach the
       end of the tale, not liking to speak for extended periods of time,
       and weary from consciously trying to omit unnecessary information,
       to expedite the monologue.

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            "Is there anything you wish to add, Captain Kirk?" asked
       Stormcloud.

            "Yes, an observation if I may."  There was no response from
       the Commodore, so Jim took it as permission given.  "By certain
       appearances, this incident would seem to go deeper than just a
       'Grade 4' disaster, which by the evidence, a 4 is all it warrants."

            "Continue, Captain.  Except for tight beam transmissions
       directly to you, you have been 'incommunicado' due to the
       disturbances caused by the disaster.  What impresses you to think
       that it is more serious than your data states."

            "You do, Sir," spoke the Captain rather boldly.  "You are the
       highest ranking intelligence officer in the fleet.  Since our
       'theft' of the Romulan Cloaking Device, Starfleet has been gearing
       up for imminent invasion.  'Taskforce Rihanshu', headed by you, if
       I remember correctly, is priority one."

            "I assume that your point is 'why wouldn't I send someone else
       in my place if this situation was less than a grade one priority.'"

            A nod from Jim and a raised eyebrow from Spock spoke the
       affirmative in place of words.  Even the computer recorded it as a
       'yes'.

            "Perhaps you consider me to be of more importance than, in
       reality, I am," Stormcloud offered the Captain.

            "Commodore Stormcloud," Spock entered the conversation, "you
       are next in line for the Admiralty.  I estimate the odds are above
       90 percent that you will attain that rank within the next six
       months."

            "Thank you for the vote of confidence, Mister Spock.  You are
       probably correct, as are you, Captain."  His tough Military facade
       lessened a bit.  "Gentlemen, I intended for you to see this a
       little later, however, you are now cleared and your suspicions are
       well founded."  He pressed a button on the console in front of him.
       The lights dimmed.  "Computer, run tape 7773T on wall viewer."

            "Waiting," spoke the feminine voice of the computer.

            "Now, blast it!", responded the Commodore.

            "Password accepted; vocoder verified."  Then the computer was
       silent.

            "Regular passwords can be forgotten and are less satisfying,"
       Stormcloud commented as the viewer came to life displaying a
       tranquil starscape.  Chronometer readings, spatial coordinates and
       ship's heading were computer superimposed in the lower left hand
       corner and the Starfleet insignia, bearing the ship's name
       'Schwarzkopf' at the lower right.  The blackness of space, speckled
       with white transformed instantly, completely, to a brilliant white,
       then faded slowly back to its original view.  Then the star scene

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       began to shake violently, as if a cameraman had been taking
       pictures of the stars while riding a bucking bronco.

            "What you see is not a recording error gentlemen." The
       Commodore pressed the pause button on his console.  "It is an
       explosion of like magnitude as the one that destroyed Elba II.
       This one took place nearly 5 standard hours later than Elba's, on
       the border of the Klingon Neutral Zone.  The vessel that fired the
       weapon destroyed the outpost that was attempting to prevent it's
       crossover."

            "About the weapon," Jim began, "did it give the same energy
       readings as the ones we picked up?"

            "The very same, and I'll bet you have already deciphered the
       energy pattern and recognize its signature."

            "The Garth Explosive,"  Jim responded. "We determined that it
       was the cause, but we thought it had all been destroyed in the
       initial explosion.  Was there any more of the substance at another
       location where it could have been stolen?"

            "With the exception of a few grams, it was stored in it's
       entirety on Elba, in Cory's vaults.  The smallest of grains
       removed from the planet has been accounted for and it certainly was
       not common knowledge that the substance even existed."

            "If I may, Sir," Spock interposed, "espionage is the most
       effective weapon in any 'cold' war.  It is illogical to assume any
       secret is completely secure."

            "Quite correct, Mr. Spock.  It is highly possible that the
       Federation's security has been compromised and that our enemies are
       'in the know'.  But Elba was the only place where any significant
       quantity could be obtained.  Although the components of the
       explosive had been determined, the proportional formula was never
       ascertained due to its complexity and instability.  Two of our top
       scientists died in the first of attempts to replicate it.  They
       were painstakingly careful in every stage of their work, but when
       they only had two thirds of the components in the mixture, it
       exploded, killing them both, destroying their notes."

            Stormcloud cleared his throat and continued.  "In the second
       series of tests, remote transporters were used in hopes that a 'pad
       to pad' beam would give us the formula breakdown in the computer
       transit control.  However, upon beaming, the substance's unstable
       properties caused a core skip in the first transporter pad.  Thus
       after successfully transmitting the particle, the pad tried to beam
       itself, which it naturally could not quite do.  It did manage to
       begin the beaming process, causing its own molecules to drift,
       unravel and most of it finally turned to dust.  The second pad, in
       trying to reassemble the particle, simply shorted out and never
       gave us any information, other than to stop using transporters in
       the research."

            Jim refrained from smiling, though with some effort.  He

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       momentarily thought of how Bones would enjoy seeing a transporter
       destroy itself without endangering human lives.  "The hostile
       vessel headed into the neutral zone then?" he asked, letting the
       gravity of the situation sink back in.

            "Schwarzkopf's scanners could not penetrate the energy wave to
       confirm it, but we are certain that it did.  Our sources have
       informed us of heavy Klingon activity across the border,
       immediately after the incident, and it is reported by our
       operatives across the 'zone' that the Klingonese Emperor and his
       royal armada are leaving Klinzhai for a quadrant very near the
       zone.  I for one do not believe in coincidences.  What I do believe
       is that the Klingons are preparing for a major offensive strike.
       There is one question that remains a complete mystery to us."

            "I, Sir, can think of several," Spock interjected. "Not the
       least of which is 'If there was Klingon involvement in these
       incidents of destruction, why has Organia remained silent?'"

            "Why indeed, Mr. Spock.  Considering that it was they who
       forced both our Federation and the Klingon Empire to cease any form
       of aggression, or risk their unwanted intervention." The
       Commodore's voice intensified, making his feelings about the
       Organians plain.  "We are now restricted by them from rightfully
       deploying a great amount of our defensive weaponry.  We are barred
       from any first strike capability or retaliatory engagement.  In
       short, we are at the mercy of a race of beings whom we know nothing
       about!" His anger toward the Organians took Kirk by surprise.

            "Commodore," the Captain spoke in defense of them, "mercy
       seems to be the very reason for their intervention.  As you know,
       Sir, I was there when it happened."  The Captain placed both hands
       on the table and rose, never breaking his eye contact with his
       superior.  "If you remember, we were at war.  It was our fault that
       Organia was stuck in the middle of it."  Jim easily remembered the
       circumstances of their 'first contact' with the aliens in question.
       "For all the Federation's good intentions, we brought our conflict."
       Jim momentarily reflected, "I brought our conflict with the
       Klingons to their innocent planet, which would have been destroyed,
       along with countless other civilizations, and possibly brought the
       downfall of both Empire and Federation." The Commodore's brow
       furrowed in anger, but Jim did not let that stop him.  "Had not the
       Organians proven their benevolence by the use of their power, we
       might not be alive to debate their intentions."

            "We are not here to debate their intentions Captain, and
       though you had been the first in the Federation to make official
       contact with them, I hardly see how you qualify as an expert on
       the subject of what motivates them and why!" the Commodore fumed.

            "With all due respect," spoke the Enterprise's only Vulcan,
       "the Captain is quite correct when pointing out the nobility
       evidenced by the Organians.  Their act was one of complete
       impartiality.  Their goal was peace."  Spock bridged the tips of
       his fingers together.  "In discerning the nature of anyone's
       motives, one must weigh the words spoken with the deeds performed,

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       and consider what is to be gained by the one being scrutinized.
       Their words were complemented by their actions and the only thing
       gained was an end to the conflict.  The gain was ours."

            "Wrong, Mr. Spock," the large man narrowed his eyes at the
       science officer. "Control, not peace was achieved.  Since the
       incident we have heard 'Peace!', 'Peace!', when there is no peace.
       We do not coexist with the Klingons by any mutual agreement of our
       own wishes.  This peace you speak of is nothing of the kind.  We
       and the Klingons are under control, by a race of beings whose power
       is thrust upon us, against our will!" he said, spitefully, to the
       Vulcan.  "We do know this fact, Mr. Spock, that when the Klingons
       appeared on Organia, the inhabitants were quick to abide by all
       laws imposed on them and assured the enemy of complete cooperation.
       You and your Captain even tried to persuade them to resist Klingon
       rule and they ignored you.  I do not hold with your opinion of
       their benevolence nor impartiality.  I believe they merely used
       their power to postpone our conflict until it suited their
       purposes."

            Jim Kirk understood the Commodore's point of view.  It was a
       valid argument in part, yet made no room for the gratitude that
       was due to Organia for preventing the largest war this galaxy had
       ever faced.  His attention shifted from his superior, to the silent
       Lieutenant Grensk.  Something about the lieutenant made Kirk
       uneasy.  'His eyes', Jim thought.  His eyes remained open,
       unblinking for much longer than Jim would feel comfortable.  Then
       a slower than normal blink, and open once again.  If Grensk's
       attention was not constantly shifting from Spock and himself, he'd
       swear the man had been heavily sedated.

            "I submit that the argument is moot, Commodore," Spock stated
       evenly.  "Regardless of Organia's rationale, there is nothing the
       Federation and Klingon Empire can do to alter the situation.  As
       long as Organia enforces the treaty, we are able to do nothing but
       adhere to it."

            "Then why, Mr. Spock," Stormcloud's voice, still bitter, "does
       the Klingon Empire violate the treaty without Organian Reprisal?
       We have been lulled to sleep with words of peace, only to find, and
       possibly too late, the treacherous intentions of these so-called
       'Angels of Mercy'!"

            "There is no conclusive evidence of that, and every one of us
       here knows it," cut in Kirk, trying to take the heat off his First
       Officer.  "There are many possibilities.  You above all should know
       how sketchy the details are.   We're only working with bits and
       pieces of information and there are no witnesses to the events,
       save on the ship that headed into the neutral zone."

            "Granted, Captain Kirk," his voice slightly calmer.
       "However, I am officially putting all quadrants bordering the
       Neutral Zone on full alert.  Martial law is now in effect in all
       systems within 10 parsecs of the zone.  I have already mobilized
       one quarter of the fleet to form a defensive line until we decide
       how to proceed."  Stormcloud pressed a button on his console and a

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       data storage square ejected from its slot into the Commodore's
       hand, who then passed it to Lt.  Grensk.  "If what I suspect about
       the Organians is true, these actions will make little difference.
       That is why I have a secondary phase to this strategy." The
       Commodore extended his hand out to his aide, who placed a sealed
       envelope bearing the Starfleet insignia with Kirk's name below,
       into it.

            "Our new orders?" Jim asked, used to receiving them via coded
       subspace transmission.

            "If it were up to me, Captain, these orders would be going to
       someone who had a different, shall I say, 'perspective', on the
       situation.  But Starfleet seems to have more confidence in you than
       I do."  He pushed the packet across the table to Jim.

            Kirk picked the packet up, examined the biomagnetic seal,
       making sure there were no tamper marks.  Regulations require this
       before accepting any sealed classified document.

            "You may go over the specific details on the Enterprise at
       your leisure, but in essence, they are as follows:  One; set course
       for Organia.  Two; observe war-time regulation 24 section 12, no
       subspace communication until objective has been successfully
       engaged.  Three; while exactly eight standard hours from your
       destination, set the Enterprise for self-destruct."

            Jim Kirk opened his mouth to object, and was immediately
       silenced by Stormcloud, who lifted a hand indicating that Jim had
       better shut his mouth and listen to his superior officer.  Spock
       showed no sign that he cared that this could be the Enterprise's
       last mission.  'Vulcan inscrutability', Jim thought.  Sometimes it
       really got on his nerves.

            "The computer-controlled countdown to destruction is to be
       modified for nine hours minus.  Four; upon arrival, assume lowest
       possible orbit.  Five; disembark via shuttlecraft, I stress,
       shuttlecraft.  Contact this fellow, Ayelborne, with whom you dealt
       with on your last mission to Organia, and question him as to why
       there has been no effort on his part to enforce the treaty.  Six;
       and this part you had better follow to the letter or I will
       personally dance at your court-martial, if Ayelborne has not
       explained himself satisfactorily, you will return to the Enterprise
       and command all hands to abandon ship.  You will then allow
       Enterprise to self-destruct by antimatter intermix, not hull
       charges.  I want Organia's surface wiped clean.  Understood,
       Captain?" asked Stormcloud finally.

            "Understood!" answered the Captain, not attempting to conceal
       his contempt from his superior.  "One question.  What makes you
       think we have the ability to destroy the Organians?  The Klingons
       used disrupters on them to no effect."

            "An anti-matter explosion is considerably different from a
       simple disrupter, Captain."  He pointed to the packet Jim was
       holding.  "Lieutenant Grensk will be accompanying you on this

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       mission as an observer and to document everything done on the
       mission.  You will afford him every courtesy but ask nothing of
       him."

            "I am perfectly capable of carrying out a mission without
       being escorted by an intelligence watchdog.  I'm a Starfleet
       Captain, and I am certain that my record speaks for itself."

            "Your record speaks many things, Kirk.  We shall see just how
       accurate the record is.  Nevertheless, you might say Mister Grensk
       is my personal insurance policy."  Stormcloud pushed himself away
       from the table.  "If there is no further comment, gentlemen, I will
       call this debriefing to a close."

            "Sir," Spock raised an eyebrow, "there is a great deal that
       has not been covered, and the evidence, as of yet, is
       circumstantial, to say the least."

            "I assure you, Mr. Spock, that the investigation is far from
       over, on our part.  Is there anything specific you wish to ask or
       disclose?"

            "There is, Sir.  Though all the relevant particles of debris
       have yet to be recovered, there has not been any substance analyzed
       that would indicate the destruction of a Starship.  Not even the
       trace energy of the antimatter reactor has been detected.  My
       question therefore is, what happened to the Fringe Ranger?"

            "Missing, Mr. Spock," was his only reply.  "Lieutenant Grensk
       will meet you at your shuttlecraft in twenty minutes."  He looked
       at Kirk, then Spock.  Both were about to ask more questions.  He
       held up his hand to stop them.  "Dismissed!" he said.

            Jim looked at Spock, knowing the Vulcan could read the
       frustration on his face.  "Let's go, Mr. Spock."  He saluted the
       Commodore and left the room with his First Officer.  They were
       greeted on the other side of the door by the young Ensign who had
       escorted them to the conference room.

            "If you will follow me, Sirs, I will lead you back to your
       craft," he said, almost cheerfully.

            "You may escort Mr. Spock to the shuttle, Ensign, and you can
       point me to the nearest head," said Jim.

            "Down corridor C, third door to the left."  With that, Spock
       and the Ensign proceeded down the hall, opposite in direction to
       corridor C.

            Kirk followed the ensign's directions, but found the entrance
       blocked by a maintenance man unloading his tool box from a gurney.
       Looking up from his tools, the man in the maintenance jumpsuit
       raised his hand indicating for Jim to stop.  "You probably don't
       want to go in there, Sir!" the man warned.

            "That's strange, Mister,"

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            "Maintenance Chief Holtz, Sir."

            "That's strange, Chief Holtz, I was under the impression that
       'that' was exactly the place I wanted to go."

            "Yes, Sir, I mean no, Sir.  It's not that you aren't allowed,
       but we are installing a new fixture, specially designed for the
       Ambassador we're receiving next week," he spoke assuming the
       Captain was aware of whom he was talking about.  "He's a
       'Stelmeko', Sir," he added for clarity.

            Jim had made it a point to keep abreast of all the new races
       entering the Federation, but this was a new one on him.  He shook
       his head admitting his ignorance.

            "They're built differently than we are.  Very differently!" he
       emphasized.  "I've never seen one, mind you, but by the design of
       the facility I'm installing, I'm not sure I want to," he said very
       seriously.

            "There are many races that look different than we do but when
       you get down to it, you'll find we are all pretty much the same."
       'Besides,' he thought to himself, 'how strange can a toilet be?'

            "Gives me the willies," the maintenance chief stated as if he
       could read the Captain's thoughts.

            James gave him a half smile as he stepped around him, entered
       the restroom, and closed the door behind him.  Reaching behind his
       lower back, he pulled out his communicator and snapped it back,
       thus opening it.  He adjusted the frequency for tightest possible
       beam and aimed it towards Enterprise's relative position.  Before
       he could speak, his eyes caught a glimpse of the alien waste
       disposal unit.  His eyes widened as he tried to take in the view of
       the hideous, semi-organic, gurgling mass of, something?  Then the
       smell hit his nostrils.  His brain expanded to three times the
       diameter of his skull, or at least that's what it felt like to him.
       Then he heard a low moan coming from the unit and saw its plastic
       tubing, which seemed to be woven through the horrendously shaped
       mass, start to move.  He put his free hand up to his throbbing
       forehead and did an about-face to relieve the strain on his eyes.

            Jim twisted a knob on his communicator.  It beeped twice.  "K-
       Kirk to Enterprise," he managed to breathe.

            "Uhura here, Sir."

            "Uhura, I need you to search Starfleet personnel records on a
       Lieutenant Reudolpho or Randolfo, I can't remember which, Grensk.
       G-R-E-N-S-K," he spelled for her. "Presently attached to S.I. Age
       about thirty.  Get me everything you can on him and send it to my
       cabin."  He wiped the cold sweat from his brow.  "How's Mr. Scott
       coming with our propulsion unit?"

            "I don't know, Sir. He's climbed up into the access-way and we
       haven't heard from him since," she said.  "Is there anything

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       else?"

            "Is there what?"  His head was pounding and his stomach was
       beginning to knot.  "Oh, no Lieutenant.  Kirk out."

            He replaced his communicator and made a straight shot for the
       door, not wanting another look at the freakish monstrosity.  As he
       stepped through the door, he quickly exhaled and gulped a breath of
       fresh air.

            The Maintenance Chief looked at him with a red face.  "Sorry,
       Sir, I should have given you an odor screen.  The ventilation isn't
       hooked up properly yet."

            "C-Carry on," he managed and made his way back down the
       corridor, trying to keep from staggering.









































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