Demands of Honor (2 page)

“There.” She pointed to the screen.

Magnifying the image, she saw a vessel of some kind. It looked large, but it was hard to tell for sure. The ship had two warp nacelles and a boxy forward section followed by a long series of more or less identical segments.

“It doesn't look like a warship,” Tomas said.

“Probably a cargo ship,” Alan said with authority.

Of course it was a cargo ship. The segmented rear of the ship must be the cargo containers, Christine realized. She felt a flood of relief. The point of this trip was to make contact, but she was sure that it would be better to make civilian contact first. There was a smaller likelihood of a misunderstanding that would lead to trouble—the kind of misunderstanding and trouble that defined Starfleet and Federation history.

“I'm trying to open a channel, but there is some kind of interference,” Tomas said.

“Could they be jamming us?” Christine asked.

“It's a
civilian
ship,” Alan said, another rebuke in his voice. “Remember, this is what we want. Up until now, virtually the entire relationship between the Klingons and the Federation has been defined by our military establishments. We're about to see the power of ordinary people
talking
to one another.”

It occurred to Christine—and not for the first time—that at least half of the time that Alan spoke, it sounded as if he were making a speech. Usually, his words lifted her up, but with the ship outside and nervousness welling up within her, she was simply annoyed.

“I have something,” Tomas said as he worked the controls for the transmitter/receiver.

A moment later they heard static coming through the intercom.

“Earther vessel, drop out of warp immediately or be destroyed,”
a gruff voice said.

Alan turned to the group and said, “Don't worry. Bluster is part of their culture. It's simply how they speak.” Then he nodded to Tomas, who hit a button. Leaning down, Alan said, “Klingon vessel. This is the
S.S. Harmony.
We are a private, civilian ship with no weapons. We are no threat to you. I represent a small delegation from the Anti-Federation League. We are on a mission of peace to your homeworld to negotiate a resolution to the differences between our peoples. We have no quarrel with you or any other Klingon.”

Finished, Alan turned and gave them all a confident smile. After a moment of silence, sounds of gruff laughter came over the intercom.
“Drop out of warp now or be destroyed, Earther ‘peace' negotiators. You have one minute to comply.”

Christine felt the blood drain from her face and her stomach tighten. For the first time since she had known him, Alan was at a loss for words.

“I don't think they understand,” Arleen said from behind them.

“Alan, make them understand!” Christine found herself nearly shouting.

That snapped Alan out of his trance. He leaned down again and said, “I said we are on a peace mission to your homeworld. We respect your culture and your ways, but
we will not be deterred from our course. Perhaps we could talk further.”

“You have forty-five seconds,”
the Klingon voice said.

“We are here to talk about peace!”

“You may talk … for about forty more seconds.”

“Alan, what do we do?” Christine asked, trying to keep the panic out of her voice.

Alan looked stricken. “Tomas, do it. Bring us out of warp.”

“I'll need some time to do the transition to sublight safely. This isn't a starship, you know,” Tomas said, his hands shaking on the controls.

“How long?” Christine asked.

“At least thirty minutes,” Tomas replied, an edge of fear in his voice.

Alan still looked stricken and didn't seem to know what to do. Christine pushed down her own rising panic and hit the transmit button. “We will comply, but we need thirty minutes to effect transition to normal space.”

“You are lying, cowardly Earthers. Comply now. Your time is almost up.”

“Damn you, you moron, we are a civilian ship, it will take some time!” Christine shouted.

“Christine, it won't do any good to antagonize them,” Alan said.

“You're right, but until now we weren't in trouble,” she shot back.

Her mental countdown told her they were almost out of time. The Klingon said,
“Our scan of your vessel suggests you may be telling the truth. Thus, we will assist you in your deceleration.”

“We don't need any assistance, we just need a few minutes,” Christine said.

There was silence from the other side, but she could see the Klingon vessel on the viewer slowly change its orientation.

“What are they doing?” someone behind her asked.

Then a flash of energy came from the top of the Klingon ship, and Christine barely had time to register what was happening.
They're shooting at us,
she thought as the
Harmony
shook all around her. She closed her eyes and felt herself lurch forward, then backward …

And then everything went dark.

For a moment, Christine thought that was it—for the ship and for them. And then the emergency lights came on. A split second later the regular lights came back on and Christine had a single thought:
We're still here.

She saw that the stars in the windows were still, telling her that they were now traveling at sublight speed.

“What happened?” she asked, taking a quick inventory of her five friends. Alan and anyone else who had been standing was now on the floor, but they were all moving and starting to get up.

“Alan, how is the ship?” Christine asked.

Alan was on his feet, working at a maintenance panel to her right. “Bad. They shot our engines. It was a low-power blast but the warp-field generator shut off immediately. Even if it's not badly damaged, we can't restart it, not out here.”

“Impulse engine is online. We're at nine point eight lightspeed,” Tomas offered.

“Earther peace negotiators, reduce your speed to space normal or you will be destroyed.”

“Do it,” Christine said to Tomas.

“Decelerating now, but it will take at least twelve hours to get down to space normal if the inertial dampeners hold,” Tomas said.

That much Christine understood. She didn't know much about physics, but she understood that accelerating and decelerating from near lightspeed took tremendous power and it put the greatest stress on the inertial dampening system. A starship could do it nearly instantaneously, but the
Harmony
took the better part of a day to decelerate from lightspeed.

“Klingon vessel, we are complying, but we are a civilian ship. It will take us at least twelve hours to reach that speed, possibly more if you have damaged our systems,” Christine said.

There was silence for a moment.
“Your ship is as worthless as you are. We will have to assist you again.”

“No!” Christine shouted into the panel.

Alan's hands were on her, lifting her out of the seat. “Go strap yourself in,” he said, pointing her to one of the seats in the back. “All of you, strap yourselves in.”

It wouldn't do much good if they lost inertial control. The ship would tear itself into small pieces and it would all be over before they knew it, but Christine strapped herself in anyway.

Alan took the copilot's seat and said, “Klingon vessel, shooting at us won't do any good. Our inertial control systems cannot handle a rapid deceleration. As I said, we are on a mission of peace to bring a better understanding between our two great peoples.”

“Earther, I do not think your people or your ship are very great, but perhaps you will prove me wrong,”
the Klingon said, laughing.

From her seat, Christine saw the Klingon ship change orientation again and move closer to them. It was hard to tell for sure given the magnification, but it looked as if the Klingons were coming alongside them. That gave her hope, since the weapon they had fired had come from the front of the ship.

Perhaps the Klingons had seen reason. She was vaguely aware of Alan's voice as he spoke to the Klingons. There was no response, and Alan's own words seemed to run together so that she could not decipher them anymore. Someone was sobbing nearby and her own heart was beating so loudly that it seemed to drown out other sounds.

What happened next seemed to happen in slow motion. There was a glow from the Klingon ship, then the glow seemed to reach out for them. The
Harmony
shuddered slightly but that was it. Perhaps the glow wasn't a weapon.

“It's a tractor beam,” Tomas called out.

“Earthers, now we will assist your deceleration. If your ship holds together, you live. If not, you die.”

“No!” Alan called out.

Christine simply held on. A commercial vessel would be built to much higher tolerances than a private ship like the
Harmony.
And cargo ships were built to last in the Federation. She doubted that it would be any different in the Klingon Empire. Whatever the Klingons intended, she was sure that it wouldn't be a twelve-hour deceleration.

Suddenly, it felt as if the ship were grabbed by a giant, unseen hand and tossed. She was thrown forward hard, but she realized with elation that she was still alive. Then the ship went dark and she was tossed backward … then forward …

The ship's inertial control system was trying to compensate for forces far beyond its designed limits. In the dark she saw sparks begin to fly all around them and felt a final sickening lurch accompanied by metal twisting and something large snapping. She heard voices screaming, and Christine thought one of those voices might have been hers.

And then the ship seemed to go still.

Christine was surprised that they were still alive as red emergency lights illuminated the cabin. She was aware of something wet on her face. When she reached up, she felt blood dripping along her cheeks. Well, that explained the pain in her head. Ignoring it for now, she unhooked herself and got to her feet.

There were moans nearby, but Christine ignored them. She knew that she had to do something important. She wasn't sure what it was, but she moved forward trusting that it would come to her. When she reached the control panel, she had to move Tomas, who was leaning against it. He was heavy, unconscious.
No, not just unconscious,
she thought, judging from the extreme angle of his head.

She glanced quickly to see Alan moaning in the copilot's seat. Then it came to her, what she had to do. Reaching down, she slapped the red button to transmit the distress call—one of the few procedures that her father had drilled into her. She spoke quickly, finding that her
voice was remarkably clear under the circumstances. “This is the
S.S. Harmony.
We are in distress. Mayday. We have been attacked by a Klingon vessel in Klingon space. This is the
S.S. Harmony
to any Starfleet vessel. Help us.” Christine hit another button to transmit their coordinates, then she took a breath. The message would repeat as long as the ship had power—which she didn't think would be long.

By now, Alan was moving his head, and Christine was satisfied that he was all right. Then someone behind her called out in pain. It was a woman's voice. Cyndy's or Arleen's. Christine got up and turned, trying to make sense of what she saw.

The rear of the ship was on fire, and sparks were flying from panels and open conduits. The sparks were actually giving off more light than the emergency lights now. As Christine took a step, she felt a giant hand reach out and slam her to the deck.

The fall knocked the wind out of her, and dazed, she tried to raise her head. Then, she felt herself almost floating off the floor for a moment before getting pulled back down.
Artificial gravity is going,
she realized.

After a few more fluctuations, she felt a familiar sensation in her stomach. A moment later, she started to retch.
Perfect,
she thought.

When the retching was over, Christine found that she had to struggle to breathe.
That explains the hissing sound,
she realized. The hull had been punctured, probably in a number of places. Christine put her head down on the deck; it wouldn't be long now.

She raised her head when she heard sound and saw movement above her. For a second, she thought that
Starfleet had heard their distress call. But she immediately realized that she wasn't looking at a Starfleet uniform.

A booted foot forced her onto her back. For the first time in her life, she saw a Klingon.

“This one is still alive,” the Klingon growled.

U.S.S. ENTERPRISE

FEDERATION SPACE

Captain's Log Stardate 3197.2.

The Enterprise
is headed for System 7348 at best speed, but it is still three days away. The crew is tense. Though the diplomats are even now making a final push, few doubt that war with the Klingon Empire is imminent. The question on the minds of the crew: will the first shots be fired at the
Enterprise
when we reach our destination? I know we will be facing a Klingon warship when we arrive. And despite the claims of the Klingon Empire, I am sure that whatever the Klingon vessel's purpose, it is not to make peaceful contact with the primitive genetic Klingons on that world. For now, we have no choice but to wait and see.

“C
APTAIN,
I'
M READING
a distress signal,” Lieutenant Uhura said.

Captain Kirk was immediately alert. He felt Doctor McCoy tense behind him as he turned to his communications officer and asked, “Who is it?”

Uhura shook her head. “It's very faint…I'm boosting power.” She waited for a few seconds. “I have it. The message is from a civilian ship called the…
Harmony.
”

“Location?” Kirk said.