It was just
another routine day aboard Deep Space
Monitoring Outpost 29. The large
telescopic array served the duel purpose of mapping the distant regions of
space beyond the Federation border and as an early warning post for anything
out of the ordinary that might be heading toward Federation space similar to
the old Epsilon stations. The small
crew, all volunteers, had chosen the assignment mainly for the peace and quiet
it afforded. The crew
were more informal than at most Starfleet facilities, and the only thing
that usually occurred out of the ordinary was the arrival of the monthly supply
ship or the occasional Federation starship that would stop by to check on the
crew.
“Mapping of Gamma
Quadrant sector 4123 is almost complete,” reported Lieutenant Jeff Conroy, the
outpost’s second in command. “Once the
data has been processed we can transmit it to SFHQ and then start maintenance
on the main array. We’re overdue, Commander.”
Lt Commander Shlar, the outpost’s commander, nodded slightly as he read
the latest status report from a padd. The Andorian’s
antenna twitched slightly as he noticed one of the secondary fusion reactor’s
power output had dropped significantly in the last several weeks. “What is wrong with reactor six?” he asked in
his typically quiet voice.
“The engineer
believes we have a blockage in the deuterium transfer piping. Might be we’re missing some insulation on
those pipes and the deuterium injectors are freezing solid.”
“Well, Pel has been itching to go EVA for weeks,” Shlar remarked.
“Have him suit up and check it…”
The two officer’s
conversation was interrupted by an alarm light suddenly illuminating on the
console in front of Conroy. Both of them
stared at it as if, having never seen the alarm before, they were unsure of
what to do.
“Isn’t that the
proximity alarm?” Shlar asked.
“Yes,” Conroy
responded, still staring at the indicator.
“It’s not supposed to light up unless something is approaching the
Outpost unscheduled.”
“That’s what I
thought,” Shlar said.
“Should we sound the alert?”
“It might be a
good idea, Commander,” Conroy agreed before leaning over and pressing the
control that sounded the alert klaxon throughout the outpost.
By the time the
half-dozen remaining members of the crew started rushing into Ops, an opening
in space had formed only kilometers away from the outpost.
“Sensors are
detecting the emergence of a transwarp corridor,
Commander,” Lieutenant Conroy reported.
“On screen,” the Andorian ordered. A
second later the bright outline of the artificial corridor could be seen on the
Ops main viewer. “Start transmitting
this data to Starfleet.”
“Transmitting,”
replied Lieutenant (JG) Patricia Crowley, the outpost’s communications officer.
As the crew
watched, a spacecraft emerged from the anomaly, followed closely by a second,
then a third.
“What are they?”
Conroy asked, unfamiliar with the design of the ships that were emerging one
after the other.
“That’s ten
already so far!” Lieutenant Taora Pel,
the Bajoran engineering officer reported. “No, twelve!”
The unidentified
ships continued in formation, moving closer to the outpost which, for the
moment, they seemed to be ignoring.
Several of the ships passed directly on by. Then, to the crew’s horror, three of the
vessels broke formation and headed directly toward the monitoring station.
“Commander,
they’re powering weapons!” Lieutenant Taora
exclaimed.
“Transmit a
distress call on all frequencies!” Shlar ordered, his voice unusually loud.
“All hands to the
escape pods!” Conroy added as the lead ship opened fire on the unarmed array,
vaporizing sections of the subspace telescope and causing power surges
throughout the outpost.
Four of the crew
stumbled into the nearest pod, sealing the door behind them. Within seconds, as the first ship continued
to strafe the outpost, the escape pod launched, automatically turning toward
Federation space. The second of the
unknown ships changed course to intercept, its weapons firing on the helpless
craft, vaporizing it.
“
Shlar never received a reply as the third vessel moved
alongside the habitat module of the outpost and launched a boarding tube though
the hull. Within seconds several large,
muscular, yellow-skinned, reptile-like beings invaded the outpost, attacking
and fighting the remaining Starfleet crew hand to hand. In a short time, the entire outpost crew had
been massacred.
The aliens
dragged the corpses of the crew back through the tube to their own ship,
ripping it out of the hull of the outpost before turning their weapons on it,
vaporizing what was left to dust.
The last
transmission sent by Monitoring Outpost
29 indicated that the fleet of a dozen ships was heading into Federation
space, on a direct course toward the planetoid called Oriaphus.
Space,
the Final Frontier…
These
are the voyages of the starship Dauntless!
Star Trek:
Dauntless
“Predator or Prey?” By PJK
Captain’s log, stardate
62794.6:
The Dauntless has completed its survey of the only
class-M planet in the Gamma Coronae Borealis system. Since we are ahead of schedule, I have authorized
shore leave for the crew on this beautiful, pristine world.
K’danz, out.
Captain K’danz and her husband, Lt Commander Dar, were making their
way to the transporter room, ready to enjoy a few off hours on the surface of
the planet below. The doors swished open
to admit them and the captain nodded to the Chief Petty Officer who manned the
console behind the transparent aluminum window.
As the two officers stepped up onto the transport platform, a whistle sounded
from the intercom.
“Bridge to Captain
K’danz,” said the voice of the starship’s First
Officer, Tom Paris. The captain sighed
as she looked at her husband, then stepped down and over to the control
console, pressing the intercom.
“Go ahead, Tom.”
“Captain, we’ve
got a Pri-One coming in for you from
K’danz cursed to herself under her breath, then said, “I’ll be right up, Tom. K’danz, out.”
“You want me to
wait for you?” Dar asked, still standing on the transport platform.
“You go
ahead. I’ll meet you on the surface,” K’danz said as she headed toward the door, which swished
shut behind her.
“Do you want to
beam down, Commander?” Chief Blackburn asked as Dar sat down on the edge of the
pad.
“No thanks,
Chief,” Dar replied. “If the message is coming
in priority one, I have a feeling I won’t be getting down to the surface
today.”
*
* * *
K’danz rushed into her ready room and sat down behind the
desk, touching the button under the monitor.
The screen briefly flashed the silver image of the Federation emblem
before switching to a view of one of the offices in the Admiralty at Starfleet
Command. Behind the desk sat Admiral
Kathryn Janeway.
“What can the Dauntless do for
you today, Admiral?” the captain asked.
“I’m afraid I
need to pull you off your current mission,” Janeway
replied. “This morning Starfleet
confirmed that Deep Space Monitoring
Outpost 29 in sector 462 was destroyed, but they managed to transmit images
of their attackers. Starfleet
Intelligence has identified the vessel configuration.”
K’danz’s monitor changed to an image from the destroyed
outpost’s sensor logs. She recognized it
immediately.
“The Hunters!”
she said.
“Yes,” Janeway confirmed as her image returned to the
monitor. “And according to the data we
have received, they’re not alone this time.
Sensors indicate a fleet of a dozen ships all heading into Federation
space on course 177 mark 9.”
“Do we know where
they are heading?” K’danz asked.
“There is only
one system along that course that we believe the Hunters might be interested
in, which is why I’m contacting you. I
want the Dauntless to rendezvous with
a fleet we’re massing in the Alrakis system and
intercept the Hunters before they reach their objective.”
“And that
objective is…?” K’danz asked, fearing she already
knew the answer.
“Oriaphus IV,” Janeway confirmed.
K’danz shuddered, remembering her three previous missions
to that small world where, through genetic engineering, living, breathing
dinosaurs like those that had existed more than sixty five million years
earlier had been created and now roamed free.
The Dauntless’ last visit to Oriaphus IV had determined a single Hunter vessel had
discovered the protected world, the ultimate big game hunting ground, so it did
not come as a surprise to K’danz that the Hunters
would try to return there in numbers.
“Our mission?”
she asked the admiral.
“Blockade the
planet. Keep the Hunters from reaching
the surface. If possible, negotiate with
them. Try and get them to leave the system,
and Federation space, peacefully,” Janeway replied.
K’danz barely held back a laugh before asking, “And if they
refuse?”
“Explain the
consequences to them,” Janeway stated. “You will have one advantage over your
previous encounters with the Hunters, Captain.
When you rendezvous with the fleet, you will take aboard a Klingon linguist by the name of Krodok. He has been studying the Hunter’s language
for several years based upon your ship’s encounters with them. He believes he may be able to communicate
with them. If we can communicate with
them clearly, then maybe they will stop hunting and killing sentient and
protected species?”
“Understood, Admiral.”
“Good luck,
Captain. And… good hunting,” Janeway said wryly.
“Starfleet, out.”
K’danz stared at the monitor screen after it had turned
black once again for several seconds, taking a deep breath to clear her mind of
bad memories before touching the intercom on her desktop.
“Mister Paris?”
“Yes, Captain?”
the first officer quickly replied.
“Recall all away
teams from the surface. Shore leave has
been cancelled. Take the ship to yellow
alert and set a course to the Alrakis system, maximum
warp.”
“Aye, ma’am,”
K’danz wondered.
Every encounter with either the Hunters or Oriaphus
had resulted in the deaths of members of the Dauntless crew. How many
would pay the price this time?
*
* * *
A day later, the Dauntless was the flagship of a small
Federation armada of seven starships orbiting Oriaphus
IV. So far there had been no indication
that the Hunters had arrived, but the fleet remained on alert knowing that
during the starship’s last encounter with them, the Hunters used cloaking
technology similar to the Klingons and Romulans.
In the conference
lounge aboard the Dauntless, Captain K’danz hosted a briefing that included not only her own
senior staff, but the Klingon linguist Krodok and the captains and security chiefs of several of
the other starships while their own senior staffs monitored the meeting via
subspace.
“Our first known
encounter with the race we now call the Hunters occurred in 2375, shortly
before the end of the Dominion War, on the planet Nella
III,” K’danz explained to her guests as a holographic
image of one of the Hunters appeared in midair above the conference table. “They are roughly humanoid, reptilian in
nature, sentient, with a langue that thus far has eluded translation by typical
means like the universal translator.
That is why we have Doctor Krodok
aboard.” She gestured toward the Klingon male who stood off to the side of the room, staring
at the hologram slowly turning over the tabletop. “Their main preoccupation, at least during
the encounters we have had with them, has been to hunt, thus the name we have
given them. The larger and more
dangerous the game the better, it seems.
And they are not too picky about their prey, as they will hunt sentient
beings as quickly as non-sentient animals, and seem to favor those who can
fight back best, like armed humans.”
“Where do these
Hunters come from?” asked Lt Commander Mike Camposus,
the security chief of the USS Rabin. “Are they in any way related to the hunters
from the Gamma Quadrant that were pursuing a sentient being called Tosk aboard DS9
about a decade ago?”
“We don’t
actually know where these beings originate,” Lt Colonel Sean McIntyre, the Dauntless’ security chief and Marine
contingent commander replied. “But
they’re definitely not related to the Tosk
Hunters. They arrive in our quadrant
using some kind of transwarp corridor, similar to the
Borg, but the brief sensor readings obtained during our encounters with the
Hunters are rather vague. The power they
generate to create their transwarp corridor indicates
they could come from as close as the other side of our own galaxy or as far
away as another galaxy entirely!”
McIntyre’s statement awed everyone gathered.
“Our strategy
must be flexible, since we don’t know how they will react to our presence
here,” K’danz stated.
“What can we
expect?” Captain Raymond Sexton of the USS
Relentless asked.
“Truthfully, I
don’t know. They may attack our ships on
sight, much as they did Outpost 29
when they emerged in the quadrant. Or
they may ignore our presence and try and make planet-fall right away, intent on
commencing their hunt of the big game on the surface. During their last visit they favored going
after the large predators like the T-Rex.
Or, based on the fact they have arrived in force this time, it could be
both; some of the ships attacking us while one or more make their way to the
planet’s surface and start hunting the dinosaurs down there.”
“Bridge to
Captain K’danz,” said the voice of the on-watch
Officer of the Deck, Commander T’Ashara. “We’re receiving a subspace communiqué from
the USS Challenger.”
“Weren’t they
supposed to be part of our fleet?” K’danz asked
Captain Sexton.
“We received a
message from Captain Imahara just before the Dauntless arrived at the rendezvous,”
Sexton explained. “They had received a
distress call and were diverting to render aid.”
“Something to do with the Hunters?” K’danz
asked.
“Unknown,” Sexton
replied.
K’danz, along with the rest of the people gathered in the
lounge, turned to face the monitor screen on the bulkhead as she said, “Send it
in here, T’Ashara.”
A moment later the screen changed to the image of the Galaxy-class
starship’s bridge.
“Dauntless, this is the Challenger. We just rescued two survivors from the
merchant vessel SS Derbyshire. Both are currently in our sickbay, but from
what they were able to tell us, their vessel was attacked by the Hunter fleet,”
Captain Imahara reported.
“Do you require
any assistance conducting search and rescue for more survivors, Tory?” K’danz asked.
“Negative,” Imahara replied. “We
located these two survivors in an escape pod trapped within the wreckage of the
Derbyshire. There are no other survivors, Captain. The Hunters disabled the ship, boarded it,
slaughtered the crew and then destroyed the vessel. The only reason these men survived is because
they hid in the escape pod instead of launching it. The Derbyshire
was destroyed around them. Others
weren’t as fortunate.” Imahara let the information sink in among those gathered
aboard the Dauntless. “We’re on our way to Oriaphus,
ETA ninety minutes, but the Hunter fleet is ahead of us. We estimate we’re about an hour behind them,
so expect the Hunters to arrive any moment now.
Challenger, out.”
K’danz looked at the people gathered around her and, after
a brief pause, said, “You heard the man.
Let’s all get to our ships and deploy in orbit as planned. The first starship that sights the Hunters
puts out the word to everyone else.
Maintain red alert until further notice.
Dismissed.”
Everyone started
filing out of the briefing lounge, with the exception of K’danz,
Paris, McIntyre, Krodok and Lieutenant Rinja Ka’Dan, the starship’s Klingon exchange officer, who had been assigned as the
liaison with the Klingon linguist.
“Do you
anticipate any problems trying to communicate with the hunters, Doctor?” the
captain asked her Klingon guest.
“No. I have extensively studied the samples of the
Hunter language your vessel has recorded,” Krodok
replied. “The Hunters are not very
different from Klingons. They have an exacting syntax. A strict code of honor that must be adhered
to. Your biggest mistake in your
previous encounters with them has been how straightforward you have been in
your contact with them. They consider
humans to be less than sentient because you are stupid enough to walk right up
to them and into their sights, no offense intended.”
“None taken,”
McIntyre replied with a smirk.
Krodok looked at the young Lieutenant at his side and
commented, “These Hunters remind me a great deal of our own people at the
height of our Empire, when we were truly the masters of all we surveyed. A great deal of our heritage, our honor, has
been lost over the years. Perhaps we can
learn a lesson from this new species?”
“Feel free to
learn all you want about them,”
“You don’t
anticipate any problem, I hope?” the captain asked.
“No,
Captain. I am ready.”
As K’danz nodded, Krodok turned and
left the briefing lounge. Ka’Dan watched the doors to the bridge swish shut behind
his fellow Klingon, looking for a moment like he
would follow behind the linguist, before pausing and looking at the captain.
“Permission to speak freely, Captain?”
“Granted,” K’danz said, curious in no small part because Ka’Dan rarely spoke freely.
“While I too am
proud of my Klingon heritage,” Ka’Dan
started, “Krodok has expressed in my presence what I
consider undue admiration for the Hunters.
He has compared their civilization on numerous occasions to the glory of
the Empire in the decades before the original Khitomer
Accords, even though he knows as little about them as we do. I believe he has what you humans would refer
to as a romanticized view of history. I
have misgivings about his motives during this mission.”
“You think Krodok might pose a danger to this ship or mission?”
McIntyre inquired.
“I have no proof
that he poses any danger to us, Colonel,” Ka’Dan
replied. “But I feel he needs watching.”
“You are his
liaison, Lieutenant,” K’danz said. “Accomplish your job as you feel best.”
“Aye, Captain,” Ka’Dan replied, performing a Klingon
salute before turning and heading out onto the bridge. McIntyre looked at the captain as the doors
slid shut.
“Do you think we
have a problem?” the Marine officer asked.
“I’d like to
think Krodok is just being old-fashioned, like some
of my in-laws,” the captain remarked.
“But…?”
“…But I think we
need to be ready for anything,” K’danz said grimly.
“Captain to the bridge!”
K’danz, Paris and McIntyre emerged on the bridge of the
Sovereign-class starship just as the last of a dozen Hunter vessels emerged
from warp near Oriaphus IV. All twelve ships stopped dead in space, as if
unsure how to proceed. While the Hunters
outnumbered the Starfleet vessels, each starship was more advanced and better
armed than their adversaries.
“Monster, has our
Klingon linguist shared any of his knowledge about
the Hunter language?” K’danz asked her Chief of Ops.
“Krodok programmed the basic vocabulary he translated into
the library computer when he first came aboard,” Setton
Arbelo replied.
“But without syntax and context, it’s still pretty much just gibberish,
Captain.”
“Have Krodok report to the bridge,” Commander Paris ordered.
“Open hailing
frequencies, Monster,” K’danz ordered. After Arbelo
complied, she said, “This is Captain K’danz of the
Federation starship Dauntless, in
command of Task Force Alpha. We are
authorized to prevent any landings on the planet below. Please respond.” Several seconds passed in silence.
“They’re ignoring
us, Captain,”
“Captain!”
exclaimed Colonel McIntyre. “Hunter
vessels are powering weapons, but they are not targeting us.”
“Status?” K’danz demanded.
“Shields and
deflectors raised.
Torpedo tubes loaded but not armed.
Phasers on standby.”
“Hunter ships are
firing weapons!” Arbelo reported.
As the Federation
starships maneuvered in orbit to present a united front between Oriaphus and the Hunter vessels, three of the alien ships
fired energy weapons that shot out and struck several of the marker buoys that
orbited the planet, acting as an electronic fence and alerting Starfleet
whenever the planet’s quarantine was breeched.
In seconds nine of the orbiting satellites were vaporized.
“I think they’re
trying to intimidate us,”
A moment later
the turbolift doors behind
“They seemed surprised
to find us here,” the captain informed the Klingon
linguist. “They destroyed a number of
our orbiting marker buoys and ignored our initial hails, but haven’t made any
moves directly against the fleet or toward the planet’s surface.”
Krodok nodded as he pulled a Klingon
padd out of the folds of his clothes and said to Arbelo, “Put me on all frequencies.”
“You’re on,” Arbelo confirmed a moment later.
Glancing at the
display of his padd occasionally, Krodok
started speaking in the same crude guttural language K’danz
had heard the Hunters speak during their first encounter years earlier. After several sentences, the Klingon paused.
There was no response for almost a quarter minute until, to the
captain’s surprise, the main viewscreen blinked to
the image of one of the Hunter leaders.
The background of
what K’danz assumed was the bridge of the alien
vessel looked hot and steamy, with vines actually growing along the bulkheads
built of structures that looked more like they had been grown than manufactured. Her fascination turned to horror when she
noticed several human and one Andorian skull mounted
on the aft wall and the tattered remains of a Starfleet uniform decorating a
console to one side.
The expression on the Hunter’s face betrayed surprise, his normally
beady eyes wide with what looked like shock. Over the course of the next several minutes Krodok conversed with the alien, his speech patterns
sounding more sure as the conversation progressed.
Eventually the
communication ended and the viewer blinked back to the view of the Hunter fleet
orbiting silently in front of them.
“What did they
say? What did you say?” K’danz asked the Klingon
linguist.
“They call
themselves the K’arachk,” Krodok
said as he looked at the human Starfleet officer. “They are an ancient race that comes from
what the Federation classifies as NGC 598, or the Triangulum
Galaxy.”
“That galaxy is
almost three million light years away, Cap’n,” Commander Alasdair Wallace, the
chief science officer, reported.
“They have been a
hunter species since the dawn of their time, millions of years ago,” Krodok continued to explain. “Once they had hunted their own planet to
extinction, they moved out through their own galaxy, developing the technology
they needed to reach far off worlds where they could find new prey. Eventually, after hundreds of thousands of
years, they wiped out almost all life in their own galaxy and began looking
elsewhere for new prey. That search led
them here, to our galaxy in search of new hunting grounds. And once they got here, they were amazed by
what their leader describes as a wondrous diversity of prey to hunt.”
“Did you explain
to their leader that we cannot let them simply hunt whatever or whoever they
want here?” K’danz asked. “First of all, they’re killing sentient
beings. Second, we certainly don’t want
them wiping out life here like they did in their own galaxy.”
“Truthfully,
their leader was surprised lower life forms like us could actually communicate
with them,” Krodok said. “They really do consider us nothing more than
animals, here to provide them with the pleasure of the hunt.”
“But they realize
now they can’t continue to hunt us, right?”
“I introduced a
word to them that they had no equivalent for.
Truce. They are not unreasonable. I have gotten them to agree, upon our signal,
to send over a negotiating party so that we can come to an agreement. If you will allow me?” Krodok stepped over
to where Lieutenant (JG) William Hyland sat at the helm and started entering in
a string of commands.
“Captain, the
Hunters are powering down their weapons,” McIntyre reported.
K’danz looked both surprised and impressed at Krodok as he completed his task.
“Now if you will
just lower our shields, Captain,” Krodok said.
“Colonel, lower
the shields and prepare to beam aboard our guests,” K’danz
ordered.
“Aye, Captain,”
McIntyre replied.
As the Marine
colonel prepared to beam aboard the Hunter party, Commander Arbelo’s
eyes suddenly went wide. “Captain,
wait!” he yelled. But it was too late.
As soon as the
starship’s shields were down, a hum filled the bridge as Krodok
unexpectedly dematerialized. He was
quickly replaced by the sudden appearance of ten Hunters, each fully armed with
their long lightning-blaster weapons. It
took a moment for the Hunters to regain their bearings, but as soon as they had
they started aiming their weapons at the surrounding crew.
The bridge was
suddenly a flurry of motion as everyone either ducked behind consoles or dived
away from the newly arrived aliens as their lightning-projecting weapons
launched high voltage tendrils of energy into bulkheads and displays.
“Intruder
alert! Security to the bridge!” McIntyre
shouted into his communicator as he desperately fumbled for his phaser, but before he had even completed his call for help,
a form quickly emerged from the turbolift on the
other side of the bridge, weapons blazing, war cry bellowing through the air.
Type II hand phaser in one hand, compression rifle in the other,
Lieutenant Ka’Dan surprised the invading Hunters,
taking out four of them before any of them even knew what was happening. He then dived to the right toward the
tactical console, but not quick enough to prevent one of the Hunter weapons
from slagging his rifle.
“That was quick!”
McIntyre remarked as the two security officers rolled out of the way of another
lightning blast that singed the carpet where the colonel had been crouching.
“I was prepared,”
Ka’Dan replied as he pulled a mek’leth
out of a sheath under the back of his uniform jacket and, with another roar,
launched himself over the science console and into the air at the next two
Hunters, slashing the entire way.
Bright, almost neon, green blood splashed across the helm console and
Lieutenant Hyland, who had ducked toward the forward bulkhead when the Hunters
had appeared. Somewhere across the
bridge a scream could be heard as another Hunter weapon was fired.
A moment later
the second turbolift opened and Captain Michael
Drake, Gunnery Sergeant Christopher O’Laughlin and
two Marine privates came rushing out onto the bridge, one of the privates
taking the brunt of another lightning discharge directly in the chest before he
could even react. The other Marines
spread out around the bridge, phasers and rifles
firing. In moments, the sound of
electrical blasts ended.
“Hold fire!”
Drake ordered, holding up one hand as he waved the other to clear the smoke
that choked the air. As members of the
crew started to resume their battlestations, K’danz and Paris assessed the situation.
Lying dead on the
deck were all ten of the invading Hunters, one of them decapitated completely
by Ka’Dan’s mek’leth, and
one enlisted Marine. Several consoles
were inoperative from damage due to phaser fire or
the Hunter’s weapons. On the port side
of the bridge, still crouched under the mission ops console, Chief Pono Kyman held his upper arm
where one of the energy discharges had grazed him.
“Bridge to sickbay, medical emergency on the bridge!”
“Please state the
nature of the medical emergen… Oh, my!” the EMH said as he appeared near the
center of the bridge and noticed the carnage around him. Commander Dar directed him to the injured Chief
of the Boat as the turbolift opened again to reveal
several other medical personnel and the Marine corpsman.
“What happened?” K’danz demanded to know once the injured were being taken
care of.
“It was Krodok,” Lt Commander Arbelo
answered as he tried to clean the alien blood off the face of his console. “I’m not as adept in the Hunter language as
he is, so it took me longer to translate, but I managed to get the gist of the
conversation he was having with the Hunters.”
“He spoke too
highly of the Hunters,” Ka’Dan said. “Told me how he wished the Klingon Empire could be more like the Hunters are now. That is why I knew nothing good would come of
these…” He paused, his voice dripping
with contempt. “…These negotiations.”
“It’s true,” Arbelo confirmed. “Krodok told the K’arachk that he
too came from a species of hunters, one that has lost its way. He wanted to join them on a hunt and offered
to tell them our starship’s weaknesses in exchange for them taking him aboard
and letting him join them. The K’arachk leader agreed.”
“Cap’n!”
Commander Wallace suddenly exclaimed.
“The Hunter fleet has opened fire on the task force!”
“Are our shields
raised?” K’danz asked.
“Yes, Captain,”
McIntyre reported.
“Relentless and Rabin are counterattacking,” Arbelo
reported. “Spector and
“Why haven’t they
fired on us yet?”
K’danz looked at the bodies of the aliens littering the
deck around her and was suddenly hit with inspiration.
“Because they
think the Dauntless is not a threat!”
she said. “They think we’re a bunch of
mindless animals who were easily slaughtered by their boarding party. Let’s use that overconfidence to our
advantage.” She looked over to Wallace
at the science console. “Mister Wallace,
do we know where the projector the Hunters use to create their transwarp corridor opening is located?”
“Aye, Cap’n,” Wallace
replied. “Accordin’
t’ sensor readin’s, th’
series of antennae devices that project off th’ front
o’ their ships is th’ source.”
K’danz looked back to where both McIntyre and Drake stood
near the tactical console.
“Colonel, target
those devices on every Hunter ship we can safely fire upon, rapid fire. Then transmit the information to the rest of
the fleet. This time they’re going to
stand and fight, not run away from a fair fight!”
“Phasers locked on target,” McIntyre confirmed. “Standing by for your order.”
K’danz looked at the image on the main viewer, where it
already looked like the Hunter fleet was trying to break off the battle so they
could use their technology to escape back to their home galaxy.
“Colonel… Fire!”
In rapid
succession, the Dauntless’ phaser banks shot beams of phased energy at the Hunter
ships, striking the projecting antennas and destroying them on six of the ships
before they could react. Seconds later
the other Federation starships followed suit, and as the Hunters tried to
maneuver away out of orbit, disabled the projector on five more of the alien
vessels.
One last Hunter
ship turned away from the rest, spinning quickly to move their projector
antennae away from the phaser’s field of fire, and
broke orbit.
“Colonel, arm one trilithium torpedo!”
K’danz ordered
“Torpedo armed
and loaded,” McIntyre confirmed a moment later.
“Captain, the
last Hunter ship is attempting to open a transwarp
corridor!” Commander Arbelo reported.
“As soon as that
corridor starts to open, launch the torpedo!” K’danz
ordered.
The crew watched
as the Hunter ship moved away, waiting for any indication that the alien’s
escape route was forming. A moment later
a bright light appeared in space a short distance from the Hunter’s bow.
“Transwarp corridor opening, bearing 020 mark
6, range 35 kilometers,” Arbelo reported.
“Torpedo away!”
McIntyre announced.
The modified
torpedo with an advanced trilithium warhead,
developed to fight the superior weaponry of the Kairn,
dashed away from the Dauntless on a
direct course toward the newly-formed opening.
Within seconds, the weapon detonated directly in front of the escaping
ship, causing a discharge feedback and collapsing the hole in space at the same
time. The resulting explosion tore the
Hunter ship to shreds, debris spreading apart and colliding with the other
alien vessels. The K’arachk
watched their last hope of escape disappear in a flash.
A few moments
later, the shooting stopped. All the
vessels that had been involved in the battle remained relatively still.
“What now?”
“Captain, we’re
being hailed,” Arbelo reported.
“One of our own
ships?” the captain asked.
“Negative,” the
operations officer replied. “It’s from
the lead Hunter ship.”
“On screen.”
The viewscreen changed to the image of both the Hunter leader
and Krodok standing on the bridge of the K’arachk ship. Less
steamy and more smoky than earlier, the image betrayed some of the damage the
vessel had sustained as the bulkheads behind them were less vine-covered, most
of what remained being fire-damaged or sooty.
The Hunter leader
spoke first in his guttural language, looking more at Krodok
than the crew of the Dauntless. Krodok, in turn,
translated what he was being told. K’danz looked down at her operations officer and with
satisfaction noted that he too was translating the conversation.
“The K’arachk leader has considered the situation and wishes to
negotiate a mutual truce with you, to benefit both our civilizations.” The alien leader continued to talk, as if
telling Krodok something the Klingon
did not pass on to the Starfleet crew as K’danz
replied to the unexpected offer.
“I thought the
Hunters had no word for ‘truce,’ Krodok? You’re a liar, and it almost cost us our
lives. Why should we believe you now?”
“I only wished to
participate in the kind of hunt my ancestors did, a hunt with the K’arachk on the planet’s surface. Feel the boil in my blood once again as we
feasted on the heart of our prey once more.
I never meant any harm to you or the rest of your fleet, it was simply a
misunderstanding.”
K’danz did not let on that her crew now possessed a better
understanding of the alien language than before and that they knew about Krodok’s betrayal.
Instead she glanced down at Arbelo with her
eyes. The ops officer nonchalantly shook
his head, unnoticeable to the K’arachk and Klingon on the viewer.
“Let me contact
our fleet and I will discuss the terms of truce with them,” K’danz
said. “We’ll get back to you
momentarily. Dauntless, out.”
“The K’arachk and I look forward to your hail, Captain,” Krodok said with a nod of his head before the screen
changed back to the view of all the ships in orbit.
“He’s lying again, Captain,” Arbelo said
as soon as the communication channel had closed. “The Hunter leader was informing Krodok that their ship has one last weapon at its disposal,
powerful enough to destroy the Dauntless
and several of our other ships in a single shot, but it will require shifting
all available power to the weapon. He
asked Krodok to deceive us while they prepare this
weapon.”
“Monster, send a
text message only to the other ships of the fleet. That way neither the Hunters nor likely Krodok will be able to read it. Inform them that I want the entire fleet to
perform a Picard Maneuver. Tell them to head out on a bearing of 010
mark 40, point five second duration.
Initiate on my mark.”
As Arbelo acknowledged the order and then began transmitting
the information to the rest of the Starfleet vessels, K’danz
turned to her tactical officer.
“Colonel, ready
all aft phasers and torpedo tubes. This is going to have to be fast to take them
by surprise.”
“Consider it
done, Captain,” McIntyre replied.
“Captain, all
ships except the
“Very well. Hail the
lead Hunter ship.”
“Hailing
frequencies open.”
The viewer once
again changed to show the interior of the Hunter ship. Both Krodok and the
Hunter leader were still visible.
“Krodok, I have discussed your offer with the other task
force commanders, and we have decided to accept your truce,” K’danz said.
The look of
surprise was evident on the Klingon’s face, a look
mirrored by the Hunter leader when Krodok translated
what had been said to him.
“Then we may beam
aboard a negotiating team?” Krodok asked hopefully,
having faced the viewer again.
K’danz tapped her hand on Arbelo’s
shoulder, signaling the Terran/Vulcan/Efrosian
officer to open communications with all the ships of the task force before she
said, “We’re lowering our shields… Now!”
Immediately seven
Starfleet vessels warped away, leaving momentary afterimages in their place
upon which the lead Hunter ship fired its remaining super-weapon. The blast passed harmlessly through empty
space, skimming the atmosphere of Oriaphus IV. Meanwhile, a relatively short distance away,
six of the starships aimed their own weapons at the unsuspecting Hunters.
“Mack, fire!” K’danz ordered. Immediately a combination of photon torpedoes
and phaser beams lashed out at the Hunter craft,
tearing through hull plating and equipment, damaging weapons and destroying
propulsion systems. Six of the vessels exploded
in spectacular fireballs, further damaging the remaining ships around them.
“Six Hunter
vessels destroyed. Two are dead in
space, their life support systems failing.
Three have been disabled but can still manage life support,” Arbelo reported.
“What about the
ship Krodok is on?” K’danz
wanted to know.
“The lead ship is
among the disabled vessels.”
“Good. I have some ideas for how to deal with Doctor
Krodok,” K’danz said
vaguely.
*
* * *
Captain’s log, stardate
62808.3:
After consulting with the other task force
commanders, I have come to a decision of what to do with our stranded
Hunters. Even if we had a way of sending
them back to the Triangulum Galaxy I would not,
because it would only mean they would be back, and probably in even greater
numbers. But hopefully, if their fleet
never returns home, the rest of the Hunters, the K’arachk,
will give up on the Milky Way galaxy.
K’danz, out.
“Are you sure
this is the best solution?” Captain Raymond Sexton asked as he shared a cup of
coffee in the Dauntless’ ready room
with Captain K’danz.
“They came to our
galaxy to hunt, and that’s exactly what I’m going to let them do,” the Dauntless’ commanding officer
replied. “Even Krodok
was surprised by how accommodating I was.”
“How long do you
think they will last?” Sexton asked before taking another sip of his steaming
brew.
“If there is any
justice in the universe, they’ll last a long, long time,” K’danz
remarked with a sneer. “After all, if
they’re as superior to us as they claim, they should have no problems surviving
and even thriving among the dinosaurs of
*
* * *
Down on the
surface of Oriaphus IV, several dozen K’arachk and one Klingon assessed
their situation. The sun was starting to
get low in the sky, signaling the approach of night, and the castaways were
looking for shelter from both the elements and the wild animals that populated
the planet.
Each of the
exiles was allowed very little, literally the clothes on their back, which for
the K’arachk was barely a loincloth. They were given no survival gear. No modern weapons of any kind except for some
simple knives and, in Krodok’s case, a mek’leth. No
emergency food stocks. They would live
or die by their own wits and strengths.
As the exiles
started heading toward the nearby mountains in hopes of locating a cave or
cavern they could use for shelter until morning, Krodok
paused and listened carefully. Unsure,
he thought he heard footsteps in the surrounding jungle and wondered for the
first time who would be hunting who?
Seeing nothing, he rushed to catch up to the K’arachk
leader, with whom he had formed a bond, as a pair of hungry looking eyes
watched from the nearby underbrush.
*
* * *
“Ship is on
course 229 mark 5, ahead warp five,” Captain K’danz
reported to Commander Paris as the latter prepared to assume the watch. “We should arrive at our next mission in a
couple of days.”
“What is our next
mission?”
“Star mapping in
sector 602. Something nice and quiet,
which after our last mission, I’m looking forward to,” K’danz
replied.
“Hmmm. I wonder?”
“Wonder what,
Tom?” K’danz asked.
“If we were to
return to Oriaphus in five, ten, maybe twenty
years… What would we find? A new thriving civilization, I wonder?” He looked at K’danz
with a slight grin. “What do you think
will grow from the seed we planted today?”
“Given time…,”
the captain started to say, appearing to be thinking over her answer. “Given time, I believe we’ll discover that
dinosaurs still rule that world.” She
looked earnestly at her first officer before adding, “I’m ready to be
relieved.”
The End
Author’s Note: This story
is based in large part on several previous USS
Dauntless adventures;
Season 4 – “Hammond’s World”
Season 4 – “Open Season”
Season 7 – “Lost World – Hammond’s
World II”
Season 10 – “Hammond’s World III”
Return to 2385.
Return to Stories Archive.