The Valreation Affair Chapter 1
"Captain's Log, Star date 2273. 'The Enterprise is in pursuit of a Klingon Battle Cruiser which is fleeing after a raid on Science station 302 located on Federation outpost Gamma 7. The station suffered numerous causalities in what can only be described as a cowardly and unprovoked attack by the Klingons."
On the bridge of the Starship Enterprise, Kirk snapped off his log recorder.
"Captain," Uhura said, turning to Kirk, "I have the director of outpost Gamma 7 requesting contact."
"Put it through, lieutenant," he said, then added, "On the screen."
All eyes on the bridge turned to the large viewing screen. The director's image swam into view. Uhura gave a small gasp as the image clarified and showed the carnage and destruction surrounding the director. Good, Kirk thought. let the crew see first hand what we are up against.
"How are you holding out, Director?" Kirk asked.
"Approximately 50 dead and about the same number wounded...structurally we are essentially... intact - thanks to you and your ship, Captain."
Kirk suppressed a grimace as he studied the man before him, or at least the broken shell of what remained of him. Not 3 hours before, Kirk had stood with him as the director led the officers of the Enterprise on a tour of the station. Quiet and reserved, he was nonetheless proud to show off his station, which was one of the highest rated in the Federation.
"A shining example to the other colonies,'" Kirk recalled complimenting him. A fact that had not escaped the Klingons. Now the director sat hunched over, partly charred, every breath he took laboured. Witness to a quarter of his life's work razed before his very eyes.
"Hold your thanks for now, Director," Kirk said. "We...regret we could not have returned sooner."
The Enterprise had just completed a 2-day mandatory rest period on Gamma 7; supplies and new personnel had been shuttled aboard and the Enterprise had only been away two hours when the distress call came alerting them of the Klingon attack.
Someone on board that Klingon vessel jumped the gun, Kirk thought. A critical mistake he intended to make them pay dearly for.
"Captain," the director murmured, "I am not at heart a...vengeful man."
"Understood, Director. Our rescue personnel and supplies have already been dispatched. Look to yourself and your people; the Klingons will be dealt with. You have my word."
The director made no response to signify that he had heard the words. Kirk allowed a few more seconds to pass and was preparing to sign off when the director lifted his head.
"I can't think of anyone else I would trust more than you, Captain…"
Kirk gave a modest nod of his head in acknowledgement. "Take care, Director. Kirk out."
Kirk looked towards the view screen, mentally trying to will the Klingon ship into sight among the hundreds of stars now filling the screen.
"Reports!" he said abruptly. "Mr. Sulu?"
"Maintaining warp 8; we are gaining on them, Captain. I estimate visual contact in 2 minutes."
"Very good. Mr. Chekov?"
"Phaser banks and Photon torpedoes charged and fully operational, Captain. Shields set at maximum."
"Thank you, Mr. Chekov." Kirk turned to the man seated in the bridge engineering control section: Mr. Sharp, Scott's right-hand man. "Mr. Sharp?"
"All systems including warp and impulse drive showing optimum capacity, Captain."
Kirk nodded and swiveled towards his first officer. "Mr. Spock?"
"Captain!" Uhura interrupted. "Excuse me, Mr. Spock, but I have a code 47 sub space communique from the Admiralty."
Kirk suppressed a grimace. Code 47 communications were the highest priority messages sent from Starfleet, meant only for the Captain's eyes and the ranking second-in-command on the ship. It was hardly a surprise for Kirk, but unwelcome all the same. He motioned quickly for Uhura to put it through on his private view screen.
He felt the presence next to him before he even saw him. Of course Spock would be aware of the proper protocols regarding the communique. "Mr. Spock, you—"
" I would also ask for the same trust as the Director showed in you, Captain."
Kirk stared at him for a moment then nodded his consent. Together they watched as the message quickly spilled onto the small viewing screen. Kirk merely grunted as he read the terse note, exactly as he predicted: Enterprise to abort any and all engagement with enemy vessel. Hold position until additional reinforcements arrive.
Logistically and strategically, it made perfect sense. Kirk turned to Spock who spoke first.
"Uncharacteristically obtuse, Captain, especially coming from the Admiralty. I shall need more time to ponder its exact meaning."
Kirk smiled inwardly but exuded a stern outward appearance. "I concur, Spock. Take all the time you need."
He moved back into his chair and Spock returned to his station. Kirk signaled for Uhura to erase the communique.
"Klingon Battle Cruiser now visible, Captain!" Sulu could not hide the anticipation in his voice.
"Very well, Mr. Sulu," Kirk said as he sank deeper into his chair. "Mr. Chekov, prep—" Suddenly, the bridge lights dimmed and a violent shaking rocked the Enterprise.
"Sensors reporting full phaser barrage from enemy vessel, Captain." Spock's voice boomed across from his station.
"All stations reports." Kirk signalled to Uhura.
She paused, monitoring all inter-ship communications. "All stations report minimal damage, Captain."
Kirk turned back to the main viewing screen. "Return fire, Mr. Chekhov."
The bridge crew each felt a subtle hum run through their consoles as Chekhov unloaded a phaser blast at the Klingon ship.
"Direct hit, Captain," Spock reported. A second later he turned from his screen. "No significant damage."
Again, the lights dimmed and Kirk was nearly thrown from his chair. Uhura did not wait for a command. "Stations 3,7 and 9 all reporting damage, Captain. Mid level 11 reports breach on outer hull."
"Mr. Sharp?" said Kirk.
The engineering assistant responded, slightly flustered: "Captain, the two forward shields are down to 40% capacity and the rest...I cannot read." Sharp's hands were flying across his console. "Some malfunction in the system, Captain, I'll try to have it fixed momentarily."
"If you please, Mr. Sharp," Kirk said. "Mr. Chekhov, return fire."
This time, as the phasers were released, the bridge engineering console exploded into a mini electrical fireworks display. Mr. Sharp was flung backwards from his chair. He lay unconscious at Kirk's feet, faint wisps of smoke rising eerily from his body. Kirk rushed over to him and flipped him onto his back. Sharp's face had gone shockingly pale but Kirk felt certain he could detect a faint heartbeat. Kirk motioned to a nearby yeoman to begin first aid then rushed back to his chair.
"Lieutenant, have engineering send up a replacement immediately and Dr. McCoy report to the bridge."
Kirk noticed the quick second glance Uhura gave him at the order in which the commands were given. Now is not the time to explain the niceties of executive decisions, he thought.
"Sensors detect no damage to Klingon vessel Captain," Spock reported, then added: "Nelson's Bane."
Unnecessary, Mr. Spock, Kirk thought to himself. He was well aware that Nelson's Bane referred to the timeless naval theory that suggested that any projectile fired from a pursuing vessel would have diminishing returns as opposed to those fired by the vessel fleeing which have increased returns. An inconvenient but manageable problem for the legendary Earth seafarer Lord Horatio Nelson when ships reached top speeds of 15 knots, but an entirely different scenario when spacecraft are traveling at warp 6. The theory went by many names over the centuries but in Kirks and Spock's time at the Academy, some wit dubbed it Nelson's Bane and the name had endured.
"Mr. Chekhov," Kirk said, "plot a flanking course around the Klingon ship. Keep us out of range of their weapons."
"Aye aye, Captain." Chekhov quickly made the calculations. "Course...is...now…set and locked in, Captain!"
"Mr. Sulu, increase speed to warp eight…engage."
Kirk settled deeper into his chair, the familiar vibration as the ship's engines pushed to near maximum calmed his impatience.
Soon, he thought to himself. Soon.