His weapon held out in front of him, Kraloq made his way to the edge of the plateau and looked down, and Ja’tesh saw him nod in satisfaction at what he had just done. Looking over his shoulder, he said, “We need to warn the colony. If the Tholians are here, they’re planning something.” He was about to say something, but then Ja’tesh saw his eyes shift to look at something behind her just before he began to turn in her direction. Bringing his weapon around his body, Kraloq took aim at something Ja’tesh could not see before she heard the sound of another disruptor bolt, and a bright orange streak whined past her head and tore into Kraloq’s chest.
20
Wait!
Festrene called out to his companion, Hazthrene, cautioning him not to give hasty chase as the large Klingon with the weapon fell over the edge of the plateau and out of sight. Its mate—a female, if Festrene was not mistaken—lunged toward the other Klingon, disappearing down the slope. Hazthrene, young and impulsive and caught up in the stresses of the moment, followed after his prey, his weapon held up as he searched for a target. The third member of their triad, Tozhene, had already paid the price for his impatience, if what had happened to him at the hands of the Klingon was any indication. Why had he not remained hidden at the Klingons’ approach, which they had detected upon picking up the transmission from their vehicle to their settlement? Festrene had preferred to hide rather than directly confront the Klingons, waiting for an opportunity to neutralize the intruders without killing them. He could only reason that his younger companion had viewed the Klingons as a threat to the generator. However, his rash actions had now placed the entire mission at risk.
This was not supposed to happen! Festrene’s orders for this mission were simple: install the network of web generators and deploy them, without engaging any of the local Klingon population. This mission had taken a great deal of planning and coordination to conceive and carry out, not just because of the stealth required to operate without detection on the Klingon-held world but also because of the new, experimental technology with which Festrene had been charged. He had expended substantial time and effort learning the system and its operation. According to his superiors, if the experiment failed to be carried out here, it likely would be some time before another opportunity to test the weapon presented itself. This, of course, did not even take into consideration the political ramifications should the Klingons learn what was taking place on their planet.
And now, it appeared to Festrene that the entire scheme was unraveling.
He was angry that Tozhene’s impetuous actions had already caused two deaths. The whole purpose of the pacification field was to prevent unnecessary loss of life. After all, dead prisoners were of no use, and an intact infrastructure like a city or other installation was infinitely more valuable than vast swaths of irradiated rubble. Occupying such territory became easier, and those captured could in turn be added to the workforces the Tholians required to carry out all manner of tasks ill-suited to their delicate physiques. Festrene applauded the pacification field’s concept as well as the attitude that had driven its creation, as he had always been reluctant to kill, even in battle, unless circumstances offered no other alternative. There were those who had argued that such measures and mercy were wasted on the Klingons, a warrior culture that prided itself on conquest and domination with little regard to the lives of those they fought. Thankfully, several of Festrene’s colleagues shared his own views, in that such conduct on the part of an enemy did not justify compromising or discarding one’s own morality.
It was his hope that this weapon, which he had championed, would demonstrate how easy it was to uphold such principles. The network of web generators had been established; the only thing that remained was to activate the field, but fate had conspired to bring the two interlopers into their midst, and now one of them was dead, and at the cost of one of Festrene’s subordinates. He wanted no more casualties.
Be cautious, he said as Hazthrene approached the edge of the rise, and recoiled as a new onslaught of weapons fire echoed across the plateau. His warning to Hazthrene had been for naught as the air was filled with the frenzy of several flashes of harsh crimson energy. Hazthrene was caught in the barrage and Festrene could only watch as his underling’s body absorbed the force of multiple strikes. A tortured chorus of agonized cries echoed off the nearby rocks as the subordinate collapsed to the ground, where he remained still.
No!
Pivoting on his hind legs, Festrene turned and skittered over the broken, uneven ground, lunging across the plateau to where he had placed the control console that would oversee the field’s deployment. All of the coordinates and power settings had been input; the only thing left to do was initiate the activation sequence. If he could get to the console, it would be a simple task to execute, provided the Klingon female did not reach him first.
He heard footsteps as he reached the console and looked up to see the Klingon running, but not in his direction. His first impulse was to raise his weapon and shoot her, until he realized she was using the terrain for cover, protecting herself by denying him a clear sightline. What was she doing? Looking in the general direction of where she seemed to be running, Festrene now understood that she was heading for the ground vehicle in which the Klingons had arrived.
A disruptor bolt struck the ground near the console and he turned to see the Klingon firing at him. She did so while running and dodging, and Festrene surmised that she was doing so more as a means of providing cover than with the hope of actually striking a target. She was attempting to shield herself as she broke onto the expanse of open ground separating her from her vehicle. Her tactic was successful, preventing Festrene from bringing himself up to a suitable firing position. At first he was confused about the Klingon’s actions; it was not typical of her people to run from a fight, or even to engage in such guerrilla-style strike-and-evade tactics. From everything he knew of Klingon society, they much preferred face-to-face battles in the open, staring down their enemies. Perhaps this Klingon was not a soldier, and was seeking escape.
No, you fool! Comprehension dawned as he saw her reach the vehicle. Instead of attempting escape, she reached for something, and Festrene remembered what had prompted this entire incident: the Klingons’ transmission to the colony. She’s trying to warn them!
Reaching for the console with his free appendage, Festrene struck the controls to initiate the pacification field. The Klingon was within the field’s targeted zone of influence, so she would be among the first to be subjected to its effects. The console emitted several strings of melodic tones, which told Festrene the protocol was under way, and a moment later he heard the web generator on the nearby plateau began to produce an ominous, resonating hum. In moments the hum grew louder, and Festrene watched the power indicators for all twenty-four generators glow bright yellow. He silently counted down the intervals until the generators would deploy their portion of the field.
Something hot punched him in his upper torso and he fell back from the console. He heard his weapon bouncing off a rock somewhere behind his head as he collapsed to the ground, a wave of agony radiating outward from the center of his body. His limbs, as though possessed of their own will, twitched and jerked as he rolled onto his back, and every movement sent new spikes of pain shooting through him. Lolling his head to one side, he saw the Klingon female running from her vehicle and toward him from beyond the generator, her weapon tracking him as she readied another shot. The expression on her face was one Festrene recognized as unrestrained fury, communicating her intent: vengeance.