Hacker Chronicles 2/HACKER2.BIN/552.CHAP#17.TXT

Text File | 1993-03-01 | 33KB | 722 lines

                              ***    SEVENTEEN    ***



            Earth was in its mid 23rd century, as counted from the
       approximate birth date, of their Christ. The inhabitants of this
       beautiful planet had nearly destroyed themselves numerous times
       throughout their bloody 6000 year history.  Most recently their
       greatest planetary dilemma was tackling the fear of a gradual
       'Global Warming'. They had spent nearly one-hundred years of effort
       in an attempt to replenish the Ozone layer, only to find that there
       was no real 'warming' taking place. The genuine problem was that
       increasing amounts of deadly multi-spectrum radiation had been
       entering the atmosphere, slowly irradiating the planet. The primary
       cause was found to be in the Earth's sphere of Magnetism.  With a
       magnetic half-life of just 1,400 years (that is; every 1,400 years
       the magnetism, or Magnetic Moment of the Earth decreases in potency
       by one half) neither the Magnetosphere nor Thermosphere could
       effectively hinder cosmic radiation bombardment. There were many
       heated debates on how to handle this. It had come just short of
       dividing the United Nations Council, but that was nothing new.

            Many civilizations had arisen and fallen, since man had begun
       to govern himself on this small world.  But few had envisioned the
       latest form that now had authority over the globe. The United
       Nations Council, permanent member of the United Federation of
       Planets was now that authority.

            The Official Base of Operations of the United Federation of
       Planets now resided on the human's world. It had, in the past, been
       aboard an enormous space station, that was capable of holding tens
       of thousands of people. It later became more effective,
       logistically, to establish the base on a world, central to all
       members. Earth was an ideal choice, though it was not unilaterally
       thought so at first. Debates for the location lasted nine months
       before concessions were made.  It now resided on Earth, in the city
       of San Francisco.

            As reflected by Starfleet's Prime Directive, all worlds allied
       with the Federation have rights to their own form of planetary
       government. The Federation was an authoritative bridge between
       these governments. Its primary purpose was to maintain
       interplanetary peace and security between all races of beings
       within, and provide protection from hostile beings from without.
       Starfleet was the instrument of this security within Federation
       bounds.

            The sprawling complex, that was Federation Headquarters, now
       sits on some 1400 square acres. It boasts many atmospheric/
       gravitational controlled domes, that may be filled with whatever
       gas or liquid, any particular visiting dignitary would require, for
       respiration.  It contains housing that would suit representatives
       of all members and their aides, attending conference sessions. It
       intentionally was designed to accommodate all known species that
       were candidates for membership, and was prepared, at a moment's
       notice, to adjust to unknown 'future' memberships.

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            This day, all over the UFP complex, frenzied activity was
       evident. To actually have the Klingon Emperor present on the planet
       was something that had surprised and astounded all.  For them to
       express the desire for admittance to the Federation was nothing
       short of incredible.  This was now seen as the most important event
       in galactic history, since the end of the Hundred Years War.

            Preparation for the Emperor's arrival, on such short notice,
       caused near chaos. All UFP Supreme Assembly members had been called
       to Earth.  All Federation Council members, temporary or otherwise,
       were requested to attend.  Every party who could cast their vote
       was either on Earth now, or enroute to the planet.

            Excitement and fear were mingling in the minds and hearts of
       all beings throughout the Federation. For Peace with the Klingons,
       they knew, could mean immediate War with the Romulans.  To some,
       this idea was a godsend. Finally a way to be rid of the ever
       present danger of invasion, from the Vulcanoid empire. To others,
       reconciliation with the Klingons was inconceivable. The evil that
       had been perpetrated by them was not forgivable by many.
       Notwithstanding, the Emperor was on his way, and he would be given
       full honors.  His admittance to the United Federation of planets,
       on the other hand, would be dealt with in its proper forum.

            A two-thirds vote would be required to pass the request for
       entry to the Federation. With the import of the request, and the
       urgency of it, deliberations would be held to a two day time limit
       after the Emperor's speech/request for admission. There were 3
       possibilities, that would be an immediate outcome of this historic
       event.  One, the Empire would become part of the Federation. Two,
       the Empire would not become part of the Federation. Or three,
       massive political turmoil would ensue from either vote and the
       result would split the Federation, plunging it into multiple wars
       and galactic chaos. This was truly an event that could change the
       Federation forever.  One which could easily spell the end of it.
       But that had been the plan all along.



                                   *         *         *



            It had taken days, at high warp, to reach the Sol system.  The
       massive Klingonese Dreadnought took its place in orbit around the
       blue world below. Many, many others shared the sky with the
       behemoth. The firmament fairly teemed with strange and various
       craft of both familiar and alien design. The Throneship had been
       allowed to raise its shields, just as a precaution, in self-
       defense against any who would take opportunity against it.  There
       are many who would joyfully promote the erasure of the Klingon
       Empire's most prominent citizen.  There were a great deal more who
       would like to see it happen, without being directly involved.

            Garth stood at his massive observation window, looking on the
       world below. His arms were folded behind his back and his stance

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       was one belonging to the victorious. He would own this planet soon,
       he thought. One of many that would bear his name. Garth Prime he
       would call it.  The others would have numbers beside his name. He
       continued to meditate on the future. There would be attempts on his
       life at every corner, once he took his throne over the galaxy. He
       would be prepared for attack, be it by a fleet of ships or on a
       personal scale.  There were many levels of plans that he had
       devised, many twists and turns that he prepared for. Though he was
       certain all the while, that nothing could stop what he had set in
       motion.

            Someone requested entry into his private chamber. Garth
       quickly, easily, regained the form of Mocdar Jek Tromok, and
       allowed the door to unlock and open for the caller. Sorr entered
       the large room that was adorned with weapons, strange animal skins
       and objects of antiquity from a thousand systems. He walked over to
       his emperor and kneeled before the man at the window.

            "Rise and state your purpose, Admiral," spoke Garth.  He
       wished to be kneeled to, but not as the Klingon Emperor.

            "I wanted to inform you that your new warp-shuttle, will be
       quite difficult to engineer, but it is technologically feasible.
       It will be time consuming with all your specifications, but
       modifications of your current shuttle should not take more than 9
       days if we have our technicians working on it around the clock.
       Your new armor should take about as long," he concluded.

            The Admiral was beginning to wonder about the man before whom
       he had been kneeling. Tromok had given him a design to a powerful,
       armored battle suit, and shuttle craft that was nearly beyond their
       present level of technology. The Emperor had been schooled well,
       but he was never considered to hold more than a general knowledge
       of sub-micro circuitry, dyna-physics and Alpha wave hyper-
       processors.  It was as if the man on the throne had changed into
       some one different.

            "Good," spoke Emperor Garth, quite aware of the Admiral's
       slowly growing suspicion of himself. Garth had further secluded
       himself from all aboard the Thunder, these past days.  It had
       helped to the degree that he had desired.  Soon it would not
       matter.  "When does the Federation's Supreme Assembly expect me?"

            "In two of their Earth hours, my lord. The last of their
       delegates are just now arriving. They have had very little time to
       prepare for this day."

            Garth knew full well the paces he was running the Federation
       through. 'Keep them busy with their bureaucratic details,' he
       thought to himself. 'Let them engross themselves with policy and
       hastily choreographed procedure, then, when they are feeling the
       swell of false euphoria for a job well done, I will have them by
       the throat'. "Is there anything else, Admiral?" the image of Tromok
       questioned.

            "Nothing more to report, lord Tromok," The Admiral stated. "I,

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       however, was wondering what will become of the intruder and his
       ship? Did you concede to bargain with him?"

            "I will personally deal with the intruder, immediately upon
       our return to the Klingon Realm. As to the bargain, his price was
       too high for the Empire. I have postponed payment until our return.
       For now, his ship has our protection.  That is all you need know."

            "Understood, lord Tromok. Our plan must not have been
       effective," Sorr said with a solemn certainty. "I blame myself for
       its failure."

            "There is still time for victory, Sorr. And plenty of glory to
       share," the Emperor stated.

            The Admiral nodded his head in agreement. "Lord, I must know,
       did my glove unit not work?"

            Garth had no idea. He really didn't care and he would not be
       trapped into making a guess on how to answer the question again. "I
       have a galaxy to claim, Admiral. We will discuss this later if I
       deem it important enough. You are dismissed."

            "Yes, my lord," the Admiral bowed and exited the large room.
       Garth relaxed his control over his form and returned to the
       visage of his own. He would need every bit of strength to maintain
       the Emperor guise on Earth. And he did not know how long he would
       need to look the part. It was made slightly easier, now that he had
       Tromok's actual wardrobe to wear.  Thus he only needed to force his
       flesh to look the part.

            He walked over to the giant view-port again, taking in the
       spectacular sunrise on the planet below. This would be his morning,
       his day and when night fell it would be his darkness.  He leaned
       his face against the clear barrier, between himself and the hard
       vacuum beyond. He stretched his arms out and closed his eyes,
       letting the first rays of the dawn enfold him. He smiled at the
       warmth of it and he began to chuckle to himself.



                                *         *         *



            First Officer's Log, Stardate: 5854.7.

            "I am now the 'Acting' Captain of the Starship Enterprise.
       Captain James T. Kirk is currently aboard, and in command of, the
       Klingon vessel Fury, on a direct heading for Earth. We are
       presently heading for the rendezvous point of the Federation Fleet
       at the Klingon Neutral Zone. It is my intention, upon arrival, to
       place Commodore Nathaniel Stormcloud under arrest for attempted
       murder, treason, and conspiracy charges. The evidence for this
       action is on file in main computer memory location: SO193622."


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            "We are traveling at warp 3.779, which is our maximum safe
       speed due to the previously logged accident in engineering. With
       this limit on our rate of travel, I have serious doubts that we
       will arrive in time at the rendezvous site before war breaks out.
       It is hoped, nevertheless, that we will be able to stop it before
       it reaches an irreversible state."

            "In the interim, I have been working on arming a photon
       torpedo with the majority of the Garth explosive that was removed
       from the Android, formerly know as Lieutenant Grensk.  If needed,
       it will make an impressive display of power on behalf of the
       Federation. With Stormcloud under guard, the knowledge that 'the
       torpedo is the only one we have', may be secure.  Thus spurring the
       Klingons into believing that we have more in our arsenal."

            "Commander Montgomery Scott is now back on the active duty
       roster, but it is clear that there is no hope of repairing the
       damage to Enterprise's port warp propulsion unit.  We are, in
       essence, crippled for the duration."

            "As a Vulcan, it is difficult to determine what level of
       morale the crew is enjoying. It is my estimate that it has lowered
       considerably with the absence of Captain Kirk. I am personally
       unskilled at dealing with problems of this nature, as it is one
       derived from emotion. I have placed Mr. Sulu in charge of
       organizing various off-duty activities for the crew. I suggested to
       him that a seminar on gravitational and radiation fluctuations
       within a trinary star system, could both occupy and enlighten the
       crew. He did not seem to agree.  I have, therefore, given him my
       permission to engage the crew in an Earth ritual known as a Masked
       Ball. I will attend this 'Ball', but I have allowed Mr. Sulu to
       make the decision as to what costume I should wear."

            "End log."

            Spock sat in the Captain's chair, examining the duty roster
       that Yeoman Rand had given him. He saw that all was in order,
       placed his mark on it and returned it to the Yeoman.  "Thank you,"
       he said to her, conscious that humans needed to hear this verbal
       expression of gratitude, even when doing what was required of them.

            Spock meditated on how he would handle the arrest of Commodore
       Stormcloud. It was a danger to even approach the fleet, for in
       doing so, Stormcloud would be able to assess the failure of
       Enterprise's mission and perhaps turn the fleet against her. They
       were not able to alert the fleet of their intentions in advance,
       with Sub-space communications, so they would have to use the short
       range comm. system. In essence, this would mean that they would be
       within firing distance, before they would have the ability to voice
       the act of the Commodore's imminent detention.

            Spock had given Lt. Checkov the task of repositioning the
       Enterprise's aft, port and starboard shield-nodes to the front of
       the ship. He assigned him an engineering detail to assist him for
       that purpose. Spock had hopes that the quadrupled shield barrier to
       the fore-section would protect them from a possible frontal assault

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       by their own comrades.  It could buy them enough time to make the
       arrest, but would leave them open to lateral and rear attack from
       any comers.  Spock was not certain that Captain Kirk would approve
       of this tactic. It was not completely logical, to be sure, but
       Spock's desire to see Stormcloud brought to justice and a war
       stopped, had motivated him. It was very much like a chess strategy
       he had recently learned. He wished he had a guarantee that it would
       work.

            "Checkov to Bridge. Mr Spock, ve are ready to test da shield
       integrity," the voice from the overhead speaker said.

            "Acknowledged," spoke the Acting-Captain. "Mr. Sulu, raise
       shields."

            "Aye, Sir, raising shields," he said and executed the
       procedures that brought the energy barriers up.

            The bridge lights dimmed for a moment, then regained their
       brilliance. "Shields are up, Sir, Quadruple front.  Should I test
       them at maximum power?" the Oriental officer questioned.

            "Yes, Mister Sulu, channel full power to the shields."

            Sulu increased the shield energy-strength with the controls
       before him.  The bridge lights dimmed again, and then completely
       went out.  "Uhmmm, Mr. Spock?  I think I've overloaded the
       circuits."

            "That is all too obvious, Mr. Sulu," Spock stated, as the much
       dimmer emergency lighting kicked in. "Mr. Checkov?  Are you still
       there?"

            "Yes, Sir," the ensign said sheepishly.

            "It appears that the power cable split at the main junction is
       not the most advantageous solution. I suggest that you start the
       engineering crew in hooking up three more junctions directly from
       the master panel."

            "Aye, Sir. Ve vere just tinking about doing dat," the ensign
       said.

            "Proceed, Mr. Checkov. Spock out."

            First Officer's log, supplemental.

            "It is my hope that the Captain will return to the
       Enterprise as rapidly as possible."

            End supplemental log.



                                  *         *         *


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            Captain Kirk sat in Kang's private quarters, behind his desk
       and glanced over the information on the tri-corder, given to him by
       Dr. McCoy. He contemplated the procedure that both Mara and Kang
       had devised, in order to transport him down to the planet, when
       they arrived at Earth. If they uncloaked, they would be shot from
       the sky as 'hostile' enemies to both parties.  The transporters
       would not have enough power to beam him down, with the cloaking
       device engaged.  Therefore, it was decided to channel the Warp
       engine power through the transporter and beam the Captain down at
       warp speed.  It had never been done before.

            James T. Kirk was now the Captain of the Klingon cruiser.  A
       fact that had not been widely spread throughout the crew.  The ship
       was now divided in its loyalty, among the members who had been
       enlightened to their Emperor's identity.  A mere handful gave their
       continued loyalty to Kang.  It was a very dangerous situation for
       the vessel.

            Jim, Kang, Mara and Gor had held several sessions with crew
       members, illustrating the danger that both Empire and Federation
       were facing. Only a dozen had believed. The rest were now in direct
       opposition to Kang, and were preparing to take the ship. They were
       lead by the officer, Torvak. The opposition held two of the lower
       decks but were, for the moment, sealed in and temporarily
       contained.  It was thought prudent by all to keep Jim's status as
       Commander of the Fury, a secret, to avoid further division among
       the crew.

            Jim pressed the medical scanner's 'on' switch and looked at
       the readings on the tri-corder. They displayed typical human
       readings for a brief period, then jumped to radically different
       readings as the cabin's doors unbolted and parted, admitting both
       Kang and Mara.  Jim looked at the readings, then up to the two. He
       shut the medical equipment off and rose to meet the two.

            "Captain," Kang began, "there is no hope of arriving at your
       home planet in time. We shall be lucky if we reach Earth before the
       Thunder breaks orbit."

            "We must, Kang. Our plan will only work if we catch him in the
       open, with as many witnesses around him as possible."

            "There is the increasing danger that we may not reach your
       Earth at all," Mara spoke bluntly. "Our comrades are taking
       measures that may cripple our engines. It is possible that they
       will break through our barriers and storm this deck."

            "I have never doubted that possibility, Lieutenant," Jim said,
       giving credit to his formidable enemy; his new crew.  "Kang, have
       you distributed arms to our men?"

            "Yes, Captain, but I caution you that it is unwise to limit
       our disrupter's fire power, to stun-force. If the 'others' have
       found a way to arm themselves, they will intend to kill us with
       their weapons."


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            "You suggest we use deadly force against your own crewmen?"
       Jim spoke his astonishment.

            "I have no desire to shed Klingon blood, Captain," Kang stated
       in stern sincerity, "but we risk failure and perhaps death at their
       hands if we show weakness of any kind.  They are honored and
       valiant brothers and they fight as I do, for the sake of the
       Empire. Yet I will sacrifice them all with a clean conscience, if
       needs be, to save my Empire.  They would do no less. That makes
       them all the more dangerous."

            "I don't want any needless deaths, Kang. All we need is to
       contain them for a few more hours." The thought was cut short as
       an explosion from the deck below rocked the ship from under them,
       casting all to the floor.  Shouts of battle were heard in the
       distance as Jim regained his ground.  "They're through the
       barricade!" he said drawing his phaser from behind his back.

            "They'll head straight for the bridge!" shouted Kang, as he
       lifted his wife to her feet and dashed out of the room.  Jim
       followed closely, running down the dim, and now, smoke filled hall.
       Both held their weapons tight in hand and slowed, as they neared
       the bend in the corridor.  Shadows of movement could be seen
       through the smoke, but Jim could not tell who it was that made
       them. Suddenly a disrupter blast sliced through the haze and burned
       itself into the wall behind them. The heat of the beam was felt on
       Kirk's face.

            Jim dropped low and fired three times, with the silent,
       invisible discharge of his weapon. Kang turned, knowing by the
       disturbance in the smoke, that Jim had returned fire.

            "You use a coward's weapon, Kirk. Where is the honor in
       felling an enemy, when he cannot even detect the threat?"

            "I suppose the 'honor' comes from knowing that my weapon won't
       kill, but their's will. The honor of the outgunned." Jim said
       clicking off two more shots into the thick, dark clouds.

            Kang acquiesced with a nod, and pressed his back against the
       corridor's smooth wall. He peered around the bend, then quickly
       pulled back, as several bursts of the deadly light beams streaked
       past him. "I can't see who it is we fight! It could be our side."

            "Switch to wide spread. We can take them all down, and sort
       through them afterwards!"

            The two men adjusted their weapons and rounded the corner, Jim
       down low on one knee and Kang, standing beside him. They blanketed
       the hall with the stunning energy beams, knowing that some would be
       missed by ducking into an entry-way or by shielding themselves with
       fallen bodies. Both Captains slowly moved down the hall, finding
       several un-conscious crewmen, lying still, on the deck.

            Kang looked at their faces as they made their way past the
       crewmen. "These are of the opposition.  We were fortunate thus

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       far," Kang said.  Another deadly blue disrupter bolt shot between
       the two.  They raised their weapons again, and fired, hugging the
       walls of the corridor as they slowly advanced.  The din of muffled
       voices and distant shouts did not seem to be getting any nearer.
       Kang was, however, able to hear the battle cry of his
       Communications Officer Gor, holding the bridge from the opposition.
       Kang began to hasten their advance, for he knew that the odds would
       be at least 3 to 1 against Gor and the others on the bridge.

            More downed crewmen were found in the murky darkness as
       they neared the main access-way to the bridge. Thick dark smoke
       billowed out of the once-barricaded companionway. The air handlers
       were blowing the black clouds away from the bridge, making
       visibility much better once they were past the travel chute. It
       also made both Kirk and Kang visible to the rear of the mutinous
       crewmen.

            Gor, seeing them in the distance, behind the opposition
       forces, howled another battle cry, drawing attention to himself.
       Before Jim and Kang were seen, they fired on the crowd, and
       continued to fire until all were downed. Quickly, the two checked
       the crewmen for wounds and made certain that none were merely
       'playing' dead. Gor came towards them, unsteadily, leaving a trail
       of thick Klingon blood behind him.

            "Captain Kang," Gor managed weakly, "we... have prevailed."

            "You are wounded." Kang looked at his friend of years.  The
       side of the Officer's head was scorched by the intense heat of a
       narrow miss, but Kang saw the dark purple-red blood spilling out
       from under his breastplate. He could tell in an instant that the
       wound was fatal. "Sit, my friend." Kang grabbed Gor's shoulders and
       eased him to the deck.

            Jim looked at Kang. This man had once been a hated enemy. It
       was not long ago that Jim had thought Klingons were incapable of
       the compassion he was now a witness to. His eyes met Kang's. Jim
       silently expressed the look of hopefulness towards his ally, but
       Kang shook his head in a solemn response. Jim nodded to Kang that
       he understood, and would offer his condolences later, but the
       bridge was still open to attack, and not all crewmen were accounted
       for.  Jim stepped over another body and headed for the bridge
       entrance, disappearing inside.

            "Die well, my friend," Kang whispered to Gor, cradling his
       comrade's head in steady hands.

            "You will not do the same!" spat a familiar voice, from behind
       Kang.

            "You have lost, Torvak," Kang stated without turning from the
       dying man. "Our brother has paid the price for your mutiny. There
       is no need for further payment from either side."

            "I think you are mad, my former Captain, but in the least, you
       are incorrect."

                                       PAGE 121







            Kang looked up at his once eager, once innocent helmsman.  He
       saw Mara being held to Torvak's chest, a barbed razor sharp blade
       at her throat. Kang's heart froze in that instant.  Ejhak poison
       dripped from the jagged edges of the knife.

            "Mara will die, slowly, horribly, before your eyes," Torvak
       promised the man before him. "Unless I have my victory for the
       people of Klinzhai!"

            There was only one person who could be held against Kang, who
       could make him choose defeat over his Empire's salvation.  He had
       lived with the fact that she could lose her life in battle, a brave
       death that they would share, but not like this. He had once been
       able to lie to Jim Kirk about that point.  Long ago he had
       convinced Kirk that Mara was not a bargaining chip to be
       considered. His ploy bore fruit on that day, but Torvak would know
       better.

            Kang looked at his wife and took a deep breath. "I... yield,"
       he said, dropping his weapon to the deck and lowering his head
       slowly in grudging defeat.

            "The only Klingon who yields, is a dead one, my Captain!"
       Torvak spoke with victorious pride. "You may take your own life
       now, and die as a coward, or you may follow your beloved Mara."

            "Torvak," Mara tried to turn towards her captor, but was held
       fast by his powerful arm, "I beg you, do not do this." She held
       back most of her tears with great resolve. "I will do anything for
       his life, but spare him this, this indignity!"

            "Silence, my wife!" Kang commanded her, then to the man who
       held her.  "I will slay myself as you will, Torvak.  But not
       before you swear to me that Mara will neither be harmed, nor even
       touched by you again!"

            "I should not even consider making a bargain with one such as
       you." He looked at his former Captain with hate at what he had
       become, a traitor to the Glorious Empire. "But I give you my honor
       bound word that it shall be as you require.  NOW TAKE YOUR LIFE!"

            Kang looked to his wife as he removed his own dagger from the
       thigh scabbard he wore. Mara could not restrain herself and
       struggled, futilely against Torvak. Kang placed the hilt of the
       dagger on the deck, holding it with both hands and aiming the tip
       skyward. Klingon suicide was usually done in this fashion. The
       ritual was simple. Kang would drop his head forcefully down upon
       the blade, driving it far into his skull. Kang closed his eyes,
       keeping the image of his wife in his mind. He erected himself,
       preparing to thrust his head downward, when he heard a heavy thud.
       Opening his eyes, he saw Mara standing alone, Torvak sprawled on
       the floor behind her.

            Kang rose in anger, throwing the blade into the corridor's
       nearest bulkhead and turned around to see Kirk, still holding the
       phaser, standing in the doorway to the bridge. "You certainly took
       your time!" Kang said in a fury that he had been unable to direct

                                       PAGE 122








       at Torvak.  "I was nearly upon my blade!"

            "Sorry, Kang," Jim said in earnest. "I never saw a Klingon
       suicide before and didn't realize that I was seeing one until a
       moment before I fired."

            Mara fell to the floor in a faint, distracting Kang's anger
       and drawing him to her. Jim stepped over and looked at the bodies
       lying on the deck, then rubbed his hands together.  "Well we'd
       better be getting these men tied up soon, or we will have to go
       through this all over again."

            "Is the bridge secured?" Kang asked over his shoulder.

            "Yes," Jim said. "We are nearing the innermost systems of the
       Federation.  We should reach Earth in forty hours."

            Jim looked down at the fallen warriors, both the living and
       the lifeless, and was instantly filled with a sense of dread. 'The
       first men to fall, perhaps of many,' he thought to himself.  'And
       the galaxy may never be the same.'




































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