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Book Three: Enemy Territory

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Star Trek: I.K.S. Gorkon
Mass-Market Paperback / March, 2005
1416500146

Written by Keith R.A. DeCandido

Excerpt:

Kurak was drunk.

This was not an unusual state of affairs for her of late. Being drunk was, she found, the only way to keep her life tolerable. Who she blamed for this state of affairs varied from moment to moment.

Sometimes she blamed Kornan, the damnably attractive former first officer of the Gorkon, who managed to ruin wind-boat riding for her on San-Tarah before getting himself killed saving the ship. She liked blaming him because he was dead and unable to defend himself.

Sometimes she blamed the Dominion. After all, it was only when war with them broke out that her father insisted that she join the Defense Force. All her life, Kurak had believed the Defense Force to be made up of incompetents and fools, and the three years she'd spent as a commander in it only served to reinforce that opinion. But--and the words were like a mantra to her and everyone in her family--the House of Palkar must always serve the empire. By the end of the war, all the qualified people in her House who could serve were dead, except her. So she remained obligated to remain in the Defense Force until her nephew, young Gevnar, came of age and enrolled.

Sometimes she blamed her father, who insisted on enrolling her when the war started.

Sometimes she blamed Palkar, the long-dead warrior for whom her House was still named, whose service defending Emperor Sompek led to that tiresome insistence on his House always defending the empire.

Sometimes she blamed Moloj, the House ghIntaq, if for no other reason than she had spent most of her life blaming that tiresome old ghISnar cat for whatever might irritate her.

Sometimes she blamed Lokor, who threatened harm to come to Gevnar if Kurak did not perform her duties to his and Captain Klag's satisfaction. Never mind the fact that true engineers should not have to do their jobs under fire without proper testing facilities....

Sometimes she blamed Kahless, simply because the existence of the empire was, for all intents and purposes, his fault.

Sometimes she blamed Leskit, because she shared her bed with him and he therefore provided a much readier target for her wrath than any of the others.

She didn't understand Leskit. He made her laugh, made her feel more like a Klingon than she had since her father dragged her away from the Science Institute and her work for the great shipbuilder Makros. But Leskit was also a Defense Force officer, and one who believed in what he did. He stood for everything she despised. Yet she kept inviting him back. It confused her, which led her to drink more.

If her drinking interfered with her duty, she wasn't aware of it. That was primarily because she didn't care all that much. The worst, absolute worst they could do to her was demote her--which would change nothing, as she would continue drinking--or kill her--which would put her out of her misery.

She sat on the comforting cold metal of her bunk, a mug of warnog in her hand, with no idea of how long she'd been sitting there. Her thoughts kept running away from her--like the horizon whenever she sailed down the mighty tIq river on Qu'vat, always a certain distance away no matter how far she sailed.

The door chime to her cabin rang. A noise came from her lips, which was apparently enough to convince the computer that she wanted the door to open, for it rumbled aside to reveal Leskit.

"What're you doing here?" she asked.

Leskit sighed. "I wanted to make sure you were ready for duty. I'm glad I did--don't you know what time it is?"

"No."

The pilot pointed at the display unit on her desk. "It says so right there."

"I know. I looked at it before."

"And?"

"There were some numbers on it, but they could mean anything."

Then Leskit laughed. "Well, in this case, the numbers mean that first shift starts in twenty minutes."

"So?"

"You're out of uniform."

Kurak looked down. For the first time, she realized that she was wearing only a nightshirt. "So I am."

"You should perhaps get into uniform. I already took the liberty of stopping by the medical bay for an anti-inebriant."

Kurak snorted, phlegm flying out of her mouth. "Don't want one of those."

"Why?"

"Because I'm drunk."

Slowly, Leskit said, "That's the idea, Kurak--taking the pill will make you not drunk."

"I want to be drunk."

"If you're drunk on duty--"

Kurak stood up from the bunk, stumbling slightly, but regaining her footing in half a second. "If I'm drunk on duty I'll still be four times the engineer that anyone else in that group of incompetents the Defense Force has saddled me with, if you can even call them engineers, given that none of them can..." Kurak trailed off, and tried to pull her thoughts together, but they remained on the horizon, ever out of reach. "What was I talking about?"

"You were talking about putting on your uniform, taking the anti-inebriant, and reporting to engineering."

The thoughts congealed, at least a little, and she found herself able to remember things. "No, that's what you were talking about. That's what you're always talking about. What I'm talking about is staying here and not reporting for duty, because it means I won't have to listen to that idiot child Kallo and watch her drool all over Toq while she tells him how to alter our cloaking shields."

"And why do you object to that?" Leskit asked.

"Because you don't alter the functioning of as sensitive a piece of equipment as the cloak based on vague theories, secondhand sensor readings, and no proper testing equipment. We don't even have a proper laboratory." She looked up at Leskit. Her thoughts were becoming clearer with every second, which simply meant that she needed to drink more. Unfortunately, her warnog mug was empty, and she didn't have the wherewithal to refill it. "And I have to ask something."

"What?"

"Why?"

Leskit grinned. "Why what?"

"Why do you keep coming here? Why do you take me to your bed?"

"I don't--you take me to your bed. Mainly, I suppose, because your cabin is bigger than mine."

Kurak waved her hands in front of her face--which caused a dizzy spell, and she stumbled forward. Leskit caught her in his strong arms, and she suddenly felt the urge to rip his uniform off and take him right there.

"Come, Kurak, let's get you ready."

She grinned. "I'm ready for you now, Leskit."

"I meant for duty."

"I didn't." She started to take her nightshirt off.

He stopped her. "I know you didn't. But I did mean it." Grabbing her by the shoulders, he straightened her up and gazed into her eyes, the Cardassian neckbones he wore rattling. "I like you, Kurak--Kahless knows why. You're unpleasant in every possible way, but I find myself drawn to you like a glob fly to the swamp pits. Unlike that insect, however, I will not let you drown me. You will get dressed and sober up and we will both report to duty. Then, tonight, after dinner, I will come back here, you'll be on your fourth or fifth warnog, and we will have excellent sex, then you will yell at me, blame me for your plight, and throw me out while pouring your fifth or sixth warnog, and then I'll come back here and get you to engineering on time and sober despite your best efforts. Just as we have every day since we left San-Tarah."

Leskit then walked over to the corner of the cabin where Kurak had casually discarded her uniform when she came off duty the previous night. She found she couldn't bear to wear the metal and leather uniform any longer than was absolutely required, and indeed she was often naked when Leskit arrived, as it saved time.

He picked up her uniform.

"This," Kurak said as she removed her nightshirt, albeit not for the purpose she had originally intended, "is all your fault, Leskit."

Smiling while holding up the uniform, Leskit said, "Of that, I have no doubt."

* * *

Klag sat at the head of the wardroom table. Kurak sat perpendicular to him on the right, staring off into space blankly. Rodek sat to Kurak's right. Toq and Kallo stood in front of the viewer, which showed a sensor schematic of some kind.

Kallo had spent the last several minutes explaining the adjustments that needed to be made to the cloak in order to keep the Elabrej from detecting it. Every time Toq tried to make a comment, Kallo interrupted with a clarification of some kind. Toq looked like he was ready to swallow his own face, and Klag had to admit to being highly amused by it.

Finally, before the young woman could go off on another explanation of how she extrapolated the sensor readings the Kravokh took, Klag said, "Enough! I am convinced that you believe this will work, Ensign. Commander--do you agree with the ensign's theories?"

The Toq who had once served confidently as Klag's operations officer--and who had never let his captain down--came back to the fore. "I would not have wasted your time with this meeting if I did not, sir."

Klag turned to his gunner. "Rodek?"

"The response time for decloaking is reduced by several seconds. That could prove fatal in combat."

"Not nearly as fatal," Toq said, "as being detected while cloaked, as the Kravokh discovered."

"True." Now comes the part I dread, Klag thought. "Kurak?"

The engineer turned and looked blankly at Klag. "Hm?"

"What are your thoughts, Commander?"

"Oh. That this is a waste of time, of course. Ensign Kallo's theories are supposition."

"All theories are supposition." Kallo's words sounded defensive to Klag's ears.

"No, infant," Kurak snapped, "all hypotheses are supposition. Theories are actually based on facts. You have no facts here, only guesses based on interpretations of another ship's sensor data. What you have, in fact, is nothing."

"It is much more than that," Toq said, "and you would know that if you had paid attention to any of this briefing."

"Have you even tested this adjustment? No, you have not, because we don't know what the parameters of the test are, and even if we did, we have no way of creating the conditions."

A thought occurred to Klag. "Yes, we do."

Everyone looked at him.

"We have a holodeck. The Federation often uses their holodecks for scientific testing."

Kurak did not sound placated. "It will not be a wholly accurate test."

"I thought you were a scientist," Kallo said. "I remember reading your monographs, viewing the specs of the Negh'Var and all the other ships you designed--and I remember thinking it was an honor to serve with you when I was assigned to the Gorkon. But now I see that your reputation is a sham." The ensign leaned forward, her fists resting on the wardroom table. "No test can possibly be wholly accurate. I believe that you are simply too cowardly to implement these changes and are making excuses."

Rising from her chair, Kurak said, "Believe what you will."

Klag also rose. "You have not been dismissed, Kurak."

The chief engineer stayed standing, though she seemed to wobble a bit on her feet. "Of course not, sir."

After glaring at his chief engineer for several seconds, pity mixing with disgust, Klag turned to Toq. "Commander, program the holodeck with the parameters of the new cloak and the specifications of the Elabrej ships, and conduct your tests immediately."

"Sir, the QaS DevwI' are conducting training exercises in the holodeck until second shift."

Klag hesitated. The holodeck was the best cure for indolence among the troops, who often went for months without activity, or performing menial tasks, before being pressed into combat duty.

"Compose the program. Work with Commander Kurak on it," he added, ignoring the look of irritation the chief engineer gave him. "Begin the testing when the QaS DevwI' have completed their drills."

"Yes, sir."

"You are dismissed--" Toq, Kallo, Kurak, and Rodek moved toward the door. "--except for you, Kurak. Remain."

Kurak stopped, turned, and sat--fell, really--back into her chair.

When the other three were gone, Klag said, "I grow weary of you, Kurak. Kallo was correct about you--your reputation for brilliance has not been in evidence on this ship, and you have proven yourself a coward."

"I am not--"

Klag slammed a hand down on the wardroom table. "You were directly challenged! And you disregarded it!"

Laughing bitterly, Kurak said, "Must I pay attention to the mewlings of infants now?"

Leaning over the engineer, Klag could smell the warnog on her breath. In truth, he could have smelled it if he were on the bridge and she in the aft portion of the port wing. "The only thing you must do, Kurak, is follow my orders. You have, to date, done a poor job of it."

"Then it is your duty, Captain, to kill me and replace me with someone who will do the job better." Then she widened her eyes in mock surprise. "But, wait! There is no one who will do the job better! This is, after all, a ship of fools and imbeciles, led by the captain of petaQpu' himself, who--"

Whatever else Kurak was going to say was cut off by Klag's fist striking her face, which sent her sprawling to the floor.

Klag stood over her prone form. "My duty, Kurak, is to run this ship as best I see fit. Right now, I feel the best way to do that is to remind the chief engineer that death is an honor. To die in service of the empire is the hope of any warrior. Therefore, I would not waste any energy providing you with a death that might, for some reason, lead you to Sto-Vo-Kor. The Black Fleet does not deserve the likes of you. And neither does this ship. The crew of this vessel has fought and bled and died for honor and for the empire. Many of them have suffered. But you? All you have done is lose a wind-boat competition and whine about being ordered to do your job."

Kurak spit on the deck. "You think I have not suffered? To be forced to work with my inferiors, to--"

This time Klag interrupted Kurak by slamming his boot down on her left leg. Based on the cracks that echoed throughout the wardroom, he broke her leg in at least three places.

To her credit, she did not scream, though she did bite down on her lower lip sufficiently hard to draw blood.

Then Klag knelt down next to her. "You may call what you have endured suffering, but it is nothing compared to what will come. I have been patient with you, Commander, because of your reputation and indeed because of the lack of viable alternatives. But my patience has run out." He stood upright and activated his communicator. "Klag to B'Oraq. Report to the boardroom. Commander Kurak is injured."

Klag heard the slightest whimper of pain as he left the wardroom without looking back.

Copyright © 2005 Paramount Pictures. All Rights Reserved.