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Authors: Kevin Ryan

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BOOK: Demands of Honor
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“What do you want?”

“I want nothing. I demand that you meet my challenge and face us in open battle.”

“You cowardly Earthers are not worth the time of my warriors.”

“Warriors?
Warriors
that huddle in the dark and hide like frightened children, with their cowardly master?”

“You will die for that insult, Earther.”

“By whose hand, you bloodless
targ?
To strike me, you will have to come out of your hole.”

There was a howl of rage, then Duras said,
“You will die soon enough.”
Then there was a click as Duras cut the line.

“Interesting … strategy, Chief,” McCalmon said.

“Klingons have a hard time resisting open challenges. If he faces us outside, we're in a better position. If he ignores the challenge and keeps his people inside, they'll start to question his leadership,” Fuller said.

For the moment, they could do nothing but wait. Adon and the other pilot buzzed around the entrance, firing off the occasional shot. The wait was short, however, and Jawer announced he was reading Klingon life signs massing near the doors.

“Wait until they're out in the open,” Fuller said. In this case he didn't have any problem with shooting first, or with firing at enemies as they came out of a door. However, he needed as many of them to come outside as possible. The more they faced out here, the fewer they would have to face inside.

After a tense wait of perhaps two minutes, the large doors burst open and Klingons raced out.
There's something wrong,
his mind screamed as he watched the armed Klingons come out, shooting disruptors at the
Starfleet officers and their native allies. Then he saw what it was: they weren't dressed like Klingons, they were dressed like natives.

Ten, twenty, thirty … they raced out, firing forward as they took positions along the front of the building. These weren't the people he had come to fight. Finally, about sixty Klingons were outside, and Fuller could see that only a few more were inside. “Prepare to fire on my mark!” Fuller said, then his communicator beeped. “Fuller here.”

“This is Adon. Tell your people to wait. There is something I wish to try.”

“We don't have much time.”

“I won't need much time.”

“Stay back, Bethe, and watch very carefully. I may need your assistance,” Adon said.

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

“Just do as I ask,” Adon said, bracing himself for an argument.

To his surprise, she said, “I will be ready.” Her craft hovered in position near the front of the line of fighters waiting by the tree line.

Seeing that, Adon took his craft slowly and directly to the entrance of the mine. A number of shots hit his shield, but they were not serious—more like warnings than mortal blows.

When he was perhaps twenty paces from the mine, the fire stopped completely. He could see the faces of people he recognized looking at him. He saw the conflict there. He set down his craft and raised his hands, though he did not turn off the platform's invisible
protective shield. “Is Gurn among you?” he called out.

He heard, “no,” from several of the fighters who would be his enemies. “Is this the leadership he offers you? Who leads you in this battle? Who has the courage to come out and speak with me?”

After long seconds, one stepped forward, pointing a weapon at Adon that he did not recognize. It was Mureth, one of the leaders of the other clans. “I lead.”

“Would you kill the son of Gorath?” Adon said.

Something passed over the clan leader's face, but his voice was firm. “I would kill my enemies, or those who ally with them.”

“As would any of our people worth their blood. But would you speak with me first to hear what I have to say?”

“With your weapons and the weapons of the Starfleet pointed at me?” Mureth said.

“You point weapons as well.”

“But you are the one who wishes to speak.”

Adon saw that he had few choices, and fewer that were any good. He decided quickly and hit the button to turn off the defensive shield. “I shall come to you with open hands.” He stepped off the small craft, looking at the surprise on Mureth's face. “Would you speak with me with open hands as well?”

Adon took careful steps toward the clan leader. Watching Mureth's eyes, Adon saw that he might just have made the last decision of his life. Then he could see that Mureth had made his own decision and lowered his weapon.

“Do not strike at him!” Mureth called out. Then the
clan leader took a series of careful steps of his own toward Adon.

When they were face-to-face, Adon said, “You hunted with my father, faced him in the games. Would you kill his son now?”

“I would rather you go home.”

“If I did, all would end soon. The Klingons would see this world destroyed.”

“Gurn has told us that the humans would see it destroyed.” Mureth replied.

“You believe a clansman who would lead you into battle from the rear? You followed Gorath into battle against the green-skins. Where was Gorath then?”

“He was first into battle,” Mureth said, the pain clear on his face now. “But there were things he could not know. Your father was a great warrior, but we need new kinds of strength now. Gurn has brought us a promise of protection, of machines from the Klingons so we may never again feel the threat of the green-skins and those like them. Gorath was a great man, but he was a fool to think we could keep the stars above us away forever.”

“Even if that were so, do you think he was a liar?” Adon said.

“No,” Mureth replied immediately.

“Would you call his son liar?”

“No.”

“Gurn killed my father, Mureth.”

“You know this?”

“I saw it in his eyes. And if you would doubt me, let me ask you, have you seen the wound on Gurn's face? Do you think it was made by an animal, or a blade?”
Adon saw more doubt in Mureth's eyes. “My father called you friend. Would he ever have set our people against each other as Gurn has done?”

“These are different times,” Mureth said, uncertainty now clear in his voice.

“Yes, but the call of our shared blood is the same. Gurn asks you to believe the Klingons' words, but where were the Klingons when the green-skins tried to tear our world to stone and sand? The humans fought
with
us, fought with you and my father. I am satisfied they speak the truth. And I have spoken many times to the green-skins' computers, which tell of their Klingon masters. Mureth, understand that I will fight you if I must, because the Klingons are not here for their crystals, but to finish the work of destroying our world. Would you stand with them in this fight, or with us?”

After long consideration, Mureth said, “These are times which test us in new ways. I do not have the wisdom to see the truth here, but I will not strike the son of Gorath today. Let me speak to my people.”

Fuller watched the scene in front of him in wonder. The two native Klingons were talking—
not
trying to kill one another. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but it was clear that something was passing between them. As they spoke, the young woman in the other platform buzzed back and forth, nervously keeping watch on Adon.

The one called Mureth went to talk to his people, and Adon slowly walked back to his platform and took to the air. A moment later, he was in front of Fuller's team. The young woman on the other platform and a small group of others approached him.

“They will not fight us,” Adon called out to the officers and natives around them. “Some of Mureth's people will lay down their arms and go home. Some will join our fight. Welcome them.”

Fuller was stunned. This young man had earned his respect before, but this … this was impossible. He had won a victory without firing a shot. In fact, this was better than a victory. Adon had just increased their numbers.

A group of the fighters who had been firing at them a few moments ago were now walking off together, leaving the area. Another group, which had to be at least half the total, were headed toward the tree line. They were greeted by the natives there and quickly took places at their sides. All of the assembled natives were now looking up at Adon as if he were not a young boy just out of adolescence but a person they would die for.

The clan leader who had met with Adon took position nearby. A device on his side beeped once—a Klingon communicator. The man answered it and handed the device to Adon, who barked at it in Klingon. That done, he turned to Fuller and said, “Gurn is disappointed at this turn of events.” From the sound of the screaming on the other end of the communicator,
disappointed
was an understatement.

Fuller said to his squad, “Our odds have just improved, but we are a long way from done. It looks like we have to do this the hard way. When we move out, we concentrate fire on the doors. When we get inside, we do it one level at a time.”

There were nods all around, but before he could tell them to move out, he saw movement on the far side of
the mine complex. A quick scan told him there was also movement on the other side.

He saw flying platforms, quite a few of them, and realized that Duras may have been a coward, but he was far from a fool. He would not engage his warriors in a ground fight where they would be more or less evenly matched against other fighters. The platforms came, and kept coming.

The hard way,
he thought. Then he realized that that didn't begin to cover it.

“Disperse and take cover, don't give them big targets,” Fuller said. He realized that the approaching craft didn't look like vehicles in attack formations, they looked like a swarm.

Chapter Twenty-five

U.S.S. ENTERPRISE

SYSTEM 7348

“O
NE HUNDRED THOUSAND KILOMETERS
above the orbital plane,” Spock announced. A moment later he added, “Two more disruptor blasts on rear shields. Given the extreme range, they had negligible effect.”

Kirk knew he could keep this fight going indefinitely. However, the people on the planet didn't have much time. Unless Kirk ended this quickly, those people would die no matter what the outcome of this battle between the two ships.

“Prepare to bring us about to face them on my mark … now.” Kirk scanned the viewscreen for the Klingon vessel but it was still too far in front of them. “Full speed toward the Klingons. Take us close, Mister
Sulu, and ready photon torpedoes.” A moment later, he saw a blip on the screen as the Klingons approached. “Fire as soon as they're in range.”

Kirk could see the forward view of the Klingon battle cruiser, and then Sulu said, “Torpedoes away.”

Two torpedoes streaked toward the Klingon ship as it barreled toward the
Enterprise.
“Evasive action,” Kirk said, and he immediately felt the pull to port as the inertial dampeners struggled to compensate for the high-speed maneuvers.

“Klingons firing disruptors,” Spock said. “Clean miss, but I am showing that both our torpedoes have made direct hits on the Klingon vessel. Klingon forward shields down at least thirty percent.”

That was something. The Klingon commander may have been inexperienced, but Kirk did not want to risk the same maneuver again. The Klingons would be ready a second time.

“Elliptical course, Mister Sulu. Toward the orbital plane,” Kirk said.

As Sulu executed the maneuver, Spock announced, “Klingons pursuing at high speed. Collision course.”

“Bring us about to face them. Ready photon torpedoes.” The captain watched the viewscreen carefully. As soon as the Klingon ship appeared, he said, “Fire torpedoes.” As soon as the torpedoes were away, he said, “Give us some room and ready phasers.”

“Klingons altering trajectory. Torpedo hits on their shields. Klingons maintaining collision course,” Spock said.

Kirk doubted the Klingons would actually risk a collision,
but getting close would allow them to do a lot of damage in a short time. Yet Kirk knew he could not afford to draw this engagement out.

“Fire phasers as soon as they're in range. Maintain fire as long as you can and ready evasive maneuvers on my mark,” Kirk said.

The captain could feel the Klingon ship barreling toward them, and the few seconds seemed to stretch out. Finally Spock announced, “Klingons in range.”

“Fire phasers!” Kirk said.

Instantly, twin blue beams lanced out toward the Klingon vessel, colliding brilliantly with the Klingon's shields. Almost immediately, green disruptor bolts lashed out from the Klingon warship, and Kirk felt the deck beneath him shudder as the deadly disruptor energy hit the
Enterprise.

“Fire photon torpedoes,” Kirk said.

The torpedoes were away and Kirk watched the Klingon ship come closer, its shields flaring brilliantly as the torpedoes struck a moment later. Then the viewscreen turned white as the
Enterprise
's own shields struggled to repel the Klingon weapons fire.

“Evasive action now,” Kirk called out. He felt the ship shudder once, either from the maneuver or the disruptor fire.

“Incoming torpedo—” Spock said, and before the words were fully out, Kirk felt the
Enterprise
lurch violently and, for a moment, the bridge went dark. The lights snapped back on and Kirk could smell overloaded circuitry.

The ship had been hurt, and Kirk could hear the damage
reports starting to come into Uhura's station, but Kirk had to see how much danger remained. “The Klingons?” he asked.

“Heavy damage. I'm showing no power to impulse or warp drives. And no power to weapons. They are decelerating on thrusters only,” Spock said.

That was it. The Klingons were out of the fight.

“Damage report?” Kirk asked.

“Forward shield inoperative, port shields at fifteen percent. Phaser control room reporting that one phaser bank is out. I'm showing a small hull breach with decompression in port cargo hold. All other systems functioning,” Spock said.

BOOK: Demands of Honor
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