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Star Trek - TOS - 79 - Invasion 1 - First Strike Page 8
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down through the Klingons and drove himself and all of
them into a tangle, scraping and scratching down the
slanted shelf. By the time he struck the bottom, he had
scraped off at least two of the Klingons and landed on
the rest of them.
His body screamed for attention. He ignored it and
tried to get to his feet, but fell twice and shuffled outward
on one foot, a knee, and the heel of a hand. His left arm
was numb from the elbow down.
Slowly he made his way past the stunned Klingons. He
had to get to Spock. If his first officer somehow survived
the fall, the other Klingons would rush in and slaughter
him where he lay. Inhaling dust, Kirk willed himself
forward.
"Stop!"
He looked up. Who was that? No voice he recognized .. one of the Capellans?
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FIRST STRIKE
Out into the middle of the battling armies, striding as
deliberately as if on parade, came a thick-bodied Klingon
officer.
No, not just an officer... a general!
But there was no Klingon general in this sector ....
The wide newcomer strode into the middle of the
action and held out both his short meaty arms, hands
upright in a halting gesture.
"Stop the fighting! Stop! Stop this!"
The general now turned to the upper rocks and
shouted--roared--at his own kind.
"I said stop!"
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Chapter Five
LEFT ARM NUMB, his chest constricted from the dust, Kirk
scraped between the stunned combatants as they stood
heaving and staring, and managed to keep from going
down on his knees again.
"Spock!" he called.
No answer. He didn't really expect one.
The Klingon general lowered his arms and watched as
the captain crossed the battleground. The general
seemed to understand and stood like Henry VIII on a
jousting field, watching as Kirk came around the gravelly
talus skirt.
Kirk first saw Spock as a swatch of blue and black
quilted against the stones, surrounded by Giotto and his
men, who ringed the fallen body and stood off several
Klingons who wanted to deal the death blow if it hadn't
been dealt already.
He thought the Vulcan moved, but there was so much
dust ....
Everything had stopped, just stopped. Klingons, Star-fleet
crew, Capellans, all standing still--those who were
still standing--looking at the Klingon general who
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FIRST STRIKE
waited like a lone monolith at their center, and at Kirk as
he moved between the bodies of the fallen.
Maybe this was some kind of demand for surrender. A
full general?
He glanced at the Klingon general in something like
contempt or dare--even he wasn't sure--but kept to his
purpose. One thing at a time.
Giotto's men parted for him, but kept their weapons
up and didn't slack their stance against the Klingon
soldiers.
It felt good to kneel finally. The ground had been
pulling at him--it felt good to give in.
Spock was looking up, blinking, dazed but conscious,
at least. His lips were pressed in frustration and effort,
pickle-green blood showing in scratches on his forehead
and the point of his right ear.
As the gravel cut into his knee, Kirk pressed his good
hand to Spock's tattered sleeve.
"You all right?" he asked.
"Stunned," Spock said with effort, and with pain that
he was trying to hide. His voice was as gravelly as the
stuff he was lying on. Cautiously he raised his head,
brows drawn, then in something like amusement added,
"And, I believe, grazed here and there "
"Where?"
Kirk persisted.
Suddenly aggravated at not being able to self-diagnose,
Spock glanced up at him and belittled himself with a bob
of his angular brows. "I am not certain."
Glancing up at the needle of rock above them, Kirk
realized it was about two decks higher than he'd estimated
from way over there. "How did you survive that?"
"Starfleet training," Spock said lightly. "I rolled."
Kirk pressed out a sympathetic grin. "Think you can
get up? We've got a new development."
Faced with that, Spock pressed his palms to the stones
and tried to lift his shoulders. His voice cracked as he
grunted, "Shall certainly attempt it."
"Mr. Giotto, give us a hand."
In the back of his mind he could hear the protests of
65
Diane Carey common sense as he and Giotto pulled the injured first
officer to his feet, but it was important to Kirk that the
enemies see the Starfleet officers upright and thinking.
Once they got him up it became clear that Spock
couldn't stand on his own and Kirk accepted that he
might be making a mistake.
He waved in a yeoman to help Giotto, then said,
"Bring him over here. I want him to hear whatever goes
on."
At the center of what was quickly becoming a scraggly
ring of mixed combatants, the Klingon general turned in
place. "Who is in command here?" he bellowed, but he
was looking from Klingon to Klingon, not at the Starfleet
team.
Behind the Security detail, Kirk straightened and
watched. Was this some kind of crank?
"I am!" A Klingon commander came up over the
incline and hurried down, clearly infuriated. "Why have
you stopped our victory?"
The general's big body turned and he raised his arms
in contempt. "I see no victory here. What's the matter
with you? Why are you squabbling over this bit of dirt?
Wasting men and munitions, and for what? A few
shipments of toparine? You're a fool."
The commander waved his hand at Kirk. "They killed
my representative!"
One of the big Capellans stepped forward and contradicted,
"I killed your representative. After he betrayed
US."
The blunt honesty silenced the Klingon commander,
and Kirk took that as a cue to move in. He didn't care
about their inner quarrels. He forced himself not to limp
as he put his back to the commander as a kind of insult
and raised his chin to the general.
"Who the hell are you?" he asked.
The high-ranker squared off before him. "I am General
Kellen."
Behind Kirk, the other Klingons collectively gasped
and relaxed their postures in respect.
66 FIRST STRIKE
Kellen? Kirk repeated. "Of the Muscari Incident?"
"Yes."
The general waited until his identity sank in all
around. Even if they didn't know what he had done in
the past, they had heard his name and they knew his
reputation. So did Kirk. General Kellen... the only
calm Klingon Kirk knew of.
That kind of thing gets around.
The general didn't seem particularly impressed with
himself, but he was clearly counting on Kirk's being impressed with him.
And it was close.
They stood together on the printless stone flat, face-to-face,
sizing each other up.
After he'd ticked off a measured pause, the general
asked, "Your ship is the Enterprise?"
Narrowing his eyes in the bright sunlight, Kirk felt his
brow tighten. "Yes..."
"Then you are Captain James B. Kirk?"
"James T. So what?"
"Then I am here to ask for your help on behalf of the Klingon Empire and your own Federation."
"Help about what?"
"We need your help, Captain. The demons have
returned. The Havoc has come."
"Does this mean you're declaring a cease-fire?"
The question had already gotten its answer, but Kirk
wanted his men and the Klingon men to hear it from the
local top, which at the moment was General Kellen. He
didn't want anyone ending up with a dagger in the back
from the overzealous among them.
Peering over those funny glasses, Kellen nodded hurriedly.
"Yes. And I should mention that your starship is
about to punch holes in my cruiser. Instruct them not Perhaps the general was fishing for an act of trust, or at
least balance, or maybe he just wanted what he said he
wanted. A chance to talk.
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Either way, there would be a chance to pause and
regroup. Never taking his eyes off Kellen, Kirk snapped
up his communicator and flipped open the antenna grid.
"Kirk to Enterprise. Go to defensive posture... cease
fire and stand by. If you don't hear from me in ten
minutes, open fire." Without waiting for acknowledgment
from Scott, he lowered the communicator sharply
enough to make a point. "I appreciate who you are,
General, but you can't have this planet."
Kellen held out both hands in acquiescence. "I do not
want this planet. I don't know why some elements do. It
has always been my standing to let the Federation tend
these backward herds. Then we'll take the planets when
they're worth something."
Kirk snorted. "Wanna bet?"
"It has always been a mystery to me when the Federation
will fight and why," Kellen said. "That you will fight
to the last man to defend something you do not care to
possess. A planet like this is not worth the loss of a ship
of the line. I give you this planet without contention.
Congratulations. I have already spoken to your Starfleet
Command. They have agreed to let me approach you if I
agreed to stop this battle. It is stopped. Now I must speak
with you, Captain Kirk."
His voice, though he was a large man, was high-pitched,
Kirk noticed now, not low as one might expect a
large man's to be, yet it had a certain ring of authority--probably
out of sheer practice.
"You'll have to wait your turn," Kirk said. 'I'll be
back in when I've taken care of my men."
Kellen said nothing, but clasped his hands behind his
wide back and struck a stance of impatience.
With a measured glance at Spock, Kirk swung around
and scanned his surprised crewmen and the disgruntled
Klingons, all standing among each other, eyeing each
other's weapons, none of them sure what to do.
He turned another quarter turn and spotted McCoy,
kneeling at the body of Ensign Wilson.
Good a place as any to start.
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FIRST STRIKE
With a purposeful stride he hurried--but not too
fast--to the doctor and kept his back to Kellen.
"Well," he muttered, "how do you like that?"
"Not much," the doctor muttered back, gazing at poor
Wilson as he rose to his feet.
Kirk surveying quickly the surgeon's bruised face.
"Are you hurt?"
McCoy blinked, frowned, rubbed his hands together,
and said, "No, Captain, I'm not hurt."
"Then get started with your triage."
"Yes, sir."
As the party broke up and others gathered around for
instructions, Kirk dashed off orders to others standing
around.
"Log that I gave a field commission to Zdunic. He's
now a lieutenant."
"Acknowledged," Spock said from behind him.
Weakness in the baritone voice registered suddenly.
Kirk turned to his first oflScer and realized Spock had
been answering him as if nothing was wrong, but the first
officer was still leaning heavily on the yeoman, picking at
his tricorder, valiantly trying to record the details of the
aftermath and his captain's orders.
"Mr. Spock McCoy!
Over here first. Yeoman, set
him
down." Kirk moved in as Spock was gingerly
lowered
to sit on a handy boulder, and carefully pulled
the
tricorder strap up over Spock's head to hand it to the
yeoman.
"Spock... sorry."
There
was more pain in the Vulcan's face now. He was
having
trouble masking it. His lean frame was clenched,
stomach
muscles tight, shoulders and arms stiff as he
pressed
down on the boulder, though he didn't take his
eyes
from the Klingon general. Distrust pulled at him
through
his pain.
unous,
Captain," he said, watching the Klingon
general,
"that he would concern himself with a skirmish."
"He's
got me curious," Kirk acknowledged.
"What
happened?" McCoy asked as he hurried to
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them. If he had seen Spock a moment ago in the
background, he hadn't noticed that the Vulcan was being
held up by the yeoman beside him.
"He fell," Kirk said. "From up there. I can't believe
didn't see it happen."
Y'U'I was busy." McCoy ran his medical tricorder from
Spock's shoulder to his pelvis. "Jim, my God--you
shouldn't have moved him! He's got spinal injuries."
Priorities screwed on backward. Kirk knew he'd made
a mistake. Always thinking of Spock as not just half-human,
but superhuman.
Spock was pale as sea wake. Deep-rooted pain etched
his face. He still watched Kellen.
"Take him back to the ship, emergency priority," Kirk
said, letting himself feel guilty.
Spock looked up. "Captain, I would like to stay."
There was something behind his eyes. Havoc...
whatever that was. Spock knew something and he
wanted to hear what Kellen had to say.
And I need him here, if he knows something.
Under his swatch of dusty brown hair, McCoy was
glaring at Kirk. Pretty clear message there, too.
"A few minutes," Kirk decided. "McCoy, you take
care of him here for now. Contact your staff and beam
down a full medical team to take over triage."
'captain," the doctor began, protesting with his tone.
"I said a few minutes. Until we find out what's going
on."
Fuming, his blue eyes boiling on Kirk, the doctor
cracke
d open his communicator. McCoy to Enterprise. Patch me through to sickbay."
Plagued not by the glare but by the reason for it, Kirk
was suddenly motivated to pierce the mystery fast and
get Spock to the ship.
He swung around and stepped back to Kellen. "All
right, General, I've taken care of my men. Now let's talk
about you."
Kellen nodded. "The Havoc has come and we have to
deal with it."
/0
FIRST STRIKE
Kirk eyed him. "I don't like the sound of that 'we."
What's 'havoc'?"
Spock tipped his head to one side. "In Klingon lore,
'Havoc' is essentially an apocalypse. The releasing of all
captive souls to wreak revenge on those who imprisoned
them."
"Yes," Kellen confirmed, wagging a finger at the
Vulcan. "Yes, yes."
"How do you know it's coming?" Kirk asked.
"My squadron encountered the beginning of it. The
coming of the Havoc ship."
"The apocalypse comes in a ship?" Cynicism blistered the air between them. "General, I'm not in a good
mood."
"And I am not here to put you in one." Kellen's
weathered face didn't change. He utterly believed that he
was here for the right reasons. He looked like a latter-day
Ben Franklin waiting to see whether he'd be the father of
a nation or on the business end of a noose.
Kirk drilled him with a meaningful glare. "What
happened to you? Start from the beginning."
"There was a mass falloff," the general began. "At first
we thought our instruments were failing, but then the
sun of a nearby solar system began to expand and the
planets to disintegrated. This continued until all things
went to zero--"
"Nothing could exist in a zero-mass environment,"
Spock countered, as McCoy worked on him. "Everything
that moved would accelerate to the speed of light."
"We came within seconds of that," the Klingon confirmed,