ENT - 012 - Kobayashi Maru

PROLOGUE

The Year of Kahless 781 The Klingon-Romulan border

Y A V ANG , H O Dof the Imperial Klingon Battle Cruiser SImyoH,studied the main viewer in silence, watching with fatalistic equanimity as the winged specter of death stalked ever closer.

RomuluSngan, YaVang thought, nearly overwhelmed by his feelings of contempt. Cowards, accomplishing by sabotage and ambush what they never could through honorable combat.Given the improbable pattern of malfunctions that had cascaded through virtually every system aboard the SImyoHover the past kilaan,those green-blooded HaDIbaHcould only be testing some subtle new weapon of wara weapon that appeared to leave its targets essentially whole, yet largely nonfunctional.

YaVang was therefore unsurprised when the other vessel came to a sudden relative stop off the SImyoHs starboard bow, scarcely a thousand qelIqams distant. Despite the swirling emerald-and-ocher-tinged eddies that marked the boundaries of the SuDengNebula, YaVang could see that the hostiles weapons tubes were still hot. What remained of his own crippled vessels tactical systems could detect no sign that the other ship was attempting to establish another weapons lock.

If only as much remained ofour weapons systems,YaVang thought, his fists clenching involuntarily as the moment stretched into a seeming eternity.

“Why arent the RomuluSnganfinishing us off? asked Qrad, the callow young gunnery officer who had just taken over the duties of the SImyoHs first officer, RawI Qeq, whose corpse had recently joined the many others that still lay scattered about the smoke-filled, ozone-redolent command deck. Despite his disconcertingly smooth forehead and his lowly enlisted rank of bekk,Qrad had commendably risen to the occasion this day.

Using the back of his gauntleted hand to wipe away a crust of congealing blood from the crisped flesh of his chin, the HoDsquinted into the main viewer. Though the attenuated cloud of gas and dust that marked the SuDengNebulas ragged edge obscured portions of the hostile vessel, there could be no mistaking the dark, threatening markings that adorned her nearly flat belly. They were the shameful stigma of a lowly carrion-eater rather than the proud striations of an honor-worthy predator.

“Isnt it obvious by now, Qrad? YaVang growled. “Those petaQwant to take this ship.

“But they have not yet boarded us, Qrad said as he consulted the readout on a slightly charred nearby console. “Our intruder alert system still functions well enough to confirm at least thatmuch.

YaVang nodded, grateful that not every sensor system aboard his damaged vessel had suffered the same fate as the now-defunct autodestruct mechanism. Dealing with this treacherous adversary would have been much simpler were it still possible to blow up the SImyoHwith a single command. Or even to manually trigger an abrupt explosive release of the warp drives supplies of antimatter. Unfortunately, Chief Engineer Hojlach had jettisoned the entire supply of fuelstocks in the interests of safety after the SImyoHhad been essentially crippled by the cowardly RomuluSnganambush.

The overly cautious engineers corpse was presently tumbling through the void, following roughly the same trajectory as the precious supplies of positive Hapand negative rughparticles that he had squandered.

“Those RomuluSngan taHqeqneed not board us in order to triumph, Qrad, YaVang said. “At least, not before our life-support system fails entirely and the cold of space claims everyone aboard this ship who yet lives. He paused, peering toward the com consoles. “Are they still jamming our communications?

“They are, sir, Qrad said, his bizarrely Terangan-like brow wrinkling in barely contained frustration. “They must expect to simply bide their time and wait us out. They will win a cowards victory, and we can do nothing to prevent it.

An idea occurred to YaVang at that moment, like a thunderbolt hurled by one of the long-ago slain gods of QonoS.

“Perhaps, Qrad, he said. “But we need not make it easy for them.

Even though the SImyoHs artificial gravity had gasped its last shortly after both her main and backup life-support systems had flickered out, YaVangs combat pressure suitnow home to the only thing that still breathed aboard his vesselseemed to grow heavier and more oppressive with each passing kilaan. YaVang struggled with mixed success to avoid thinking about his asphyxiated crew, some of whom had expired in hard vacuum, the one foe that no Klingon warrior could hope to best by the batlethalone.

YaVang felt certain that he already would have joined his officers and men in death but for the dying Qrads persuasive argument that the SImyoHs commander had to remain behindaliveto surprise the RomuluSnganwhen their boarding party finally came to call in person. He clung to no illusory hopes of escape or of overcoming his enemies superior numbers. But he hoped, at least, to fall in honorable battle rather than meeting death like a spring bregitin some fetid, fear-redolent abattoir while his foes quietly bided their time and waited him out. Only by forcing deaths hand could he hope to redeem his fallen crew members, all of whom had died as a consequence of perfidy rather than of battle wounds; they deserved seats in Sto-Vo-Korat the right hand of Kahless nonetheless.

And, more important, he might yet succeed in keeping his ship out of RomuluSnganhands. Failing that, he could at least make their acquisition of a Klingon battle cruiser a very expensive proposition by taking as many of the fatherless bIHnuchwith him when death finally claimed him.

As the passing kilaans accumulated until they had become a full DISone complete turning of QonoS upon its axisYaVang occupied himself by finishing his systematic destruction of what remained of the SImyoHs computer banks, rechecking the traps he had so laboriously set throughout the ship, and sitting quietly before a darkened starboard viewport, through which he studied the RomuluSnganvessel.

The enemy ship, which remained motionless with respect to the SImyoH,still showed no sign of having noticed that YaVang had dispatched his ships log buoy several kilaans ago. Using only the strength of his muscles, he had pushed the buoy out an airlock on the SImyoHs port sidewhich faced away from the RomuluSnganand set the dark, unpowered device on a slow, tumbling trajectory into infinity, away from both the SImyoHand the RomuluSnganships immediate line of sight. He could only hope that the buoys chances of being picked up would prove somewhat better than his own chances of survival. Otherwise, no songs would be sung of what was about to happen here this day. No statues would be raised in his honor, or ships marked with his name.

After having waited an entire DISfor them to make their move, YaVang felt only relief when the green-blooded scavengers pounced at long last. The reverberating clangor of external grapples engaging and hull-penetrating breach pods fixing themselves to the ships exterior demonstrated that the taHqeqhad finally decided it was safe to come aboard. As YaVang stood in the cruisers relatively narrow boom section, roughly equidistant between the bulbous forward command deck and the wide engineering section that lay aft, he could only wonder whether or not his pressure suits stealth functions had obscured his presence from the boarders sufficiently to allow him to surprise them, or if they had detected his stubbornly persistent lifesigns through his suit and decided that he didnt pose enough of a threat to warrant waiting any longer.

Whichever way the RomuluSnganhad done the math, YaVang was determined to teach the enemy a very painful and very sanguinary lesson about the foolishness and lethality of overconfidence.

YaVang heard a muffled explosion that momentarily rang the hull like a bell, followed almost immediately by another. Fallen bits of conduit that lay in the corridor shifted in the induced breeze, which was swiftly stanched by the harsh clang of a fast-closing emergency bulkhead. Hull-breaching charges, he realized, fore and aft. He reflected contemptuously upon the exaggerated sense of caution of the boarders, who were clearly unwilling to risk transporter ingress to a vessel whose internal configuration was no doubt still largely unfamiliar to them.

It willremain unfamiliar to them,he thought, raising the long-barreled disruptor pistol he clutched in his vacuum-gauntleted right hand. So long as air remains in this suit, and breath in my lungs.

A swiftly moving shadow cast against the ships dim emergency lighting suddenly drew his attention aft. The approaching partys booted footfalls echoed loudly through the otherwise silent vessel, the sounds seeming to originate in the direction of the engineering section, from which the most recent explosion had sounded. His training instantly taking over, YaVang flattened himself against one of the narrow corridors walls and watched as the initial shadow lengthened and resolved itself into multiple shapes, all of them vaguely humanoid. A pressure-suited figure stepped directly into view, immediately followed by at least two more.

Arm raised, YaVang stepped forward abruptly and fired. The foremost of the approaching raiders doubled over the fireball that suddenly threw him backward into his fellows. The Klingon maintained a merciless fusillade, taking full advantage of the element of surprise.

He heard a footfall behind him and whirled toward it. The sudden heavy impact against his chest threw him supine to the deck an instant before he felt the fierce heat penetrate the charred front of his pressure suit.

RomuluSngan disruptor,he thought as he realized that his own weapon had somehow slipped from his grasp, no doubt because of the ungainly bulkiness of his gloves.

Despite the tumult of running booted feet all around him, YaVang noticed that the hum of his helmets air circulation system had ceased. That meant that his final signal had been transmitted. The dead-man switch was to engage either when his suits life-support system failed, or the moment his lifesigns ceased to register upon the suits internal monitors. The trap he had so laboriously set over the past DIShad been sprung at last.

And the motherless carrion-eaters had done it themselves.

The deck shuddered and rattled as the individual charges, adapted for their current purpose from the SImyoHs armory, began detonating in series throughout the battle cruisers superstructure. Within but a handful of lup,very little of the ship would remain intact, to say nothing of the misbegotten muqaDwho had dared to try to take her.

YaVang bared his teeth in a warriors grin as several RomuluSnganconverged upon him from both directions, their weapons raised and poised to fire once they all had gotten out of one anothers line of fire.

The deck plating sheared away beneath their boots and YaVangs back.

Freefall. Airless space penetrated YaVangs body like countless icy blades. His last breath rasped in his chest like dry leaves, and he methodically emptied his lungs, just as his training demanded.

The Klingon captain awaited death calmly. Today, after all, was indeed a good day to die, for he had prevented a hated enemy from acquiring one of his peoples mightiest battle cruisers intact. And he also may well have booked passage for himself, as well as for his entire crew, aboard the Barge of the Dead, bound for eternal Sto-Vo-Kor.

But even as tumbling debris and oblivion took him, he wondered what fate might befall his beloved Empire the next time a treacherous, dishonorable attack such as this one were to occur.

After all, whatever else the contemptible RomuluSnganmight be, they were nothing if not tenacious.