STAR TREK

"A BRIGHTLY FLICKERING FLAME" CHAPTER TWO

Bernard Schaffer and Tony Healey

Doctor McCoy watched Kirk flick the viewscreens on above one of the Sickbay beds. Kirk studied the readouts as the medical gauges raised and lowered until they calibrated and were ready for use. He turned one of the dials back and forth, as if he were familiar with its function, then moved on.

McCoy clasped his hands behind his back as he followed behind the Captain. "If I'd known we were having an official inspection today, I'd have spruced the place up a bit."

"It's immaculate as always," Kirk muttered.

"Oh, good. For a minute there I thought I was losing my mind," McCoy said. "Here I am, thinking that in the midst of starting an intergalactic war you decided to start checking if I remembered to order the new physiostimulator or not."

Kirk looked over his shoulder. "Did you?"

McCoy smirked. "What do you think?"

Kirk leaned back against the bed. "There's a good chance I'm about to take the Federation into war, Bones. We may be filling up Sickbay faster than we can handle."

"Isn't that a good enough reason to pause before we go rushing headfirst into battle?" McCoy asked. "How much blood do we need to spill before we have revenge?"

Kirk felt his right eye twitching and touched it with his fingers, massaging his cheek. He was getting tired and irritable. He took a deep breath and said, "You saw what the Klingons did, Bones. There was no pause when they attacked Ellison-1. No mercy for the Baktarian colonists. For all we know, they're on their way to do it to again. Am I supposed to sit here and let it just happen? Is that what Starfleet does now? Just lie down and let them kill again and again without any resistance? Someone has to do something and it seems that responsibility has fallen on us."

McCoy leaned beside him and sighed. "Of all the renegade Captains out there, I had to get stuck with you."

"You must have deserved it," Kirk said.

McCoy looked around the room, deciding what extra supplies he'd need in the meantime. "Guess all I can do now is pray a lot of people don't get hurt. Or worse. The burden of all doctors, I suppose."

Kirk looked away. "Captains too."

The comm sounded from the Sickbay entrance. "Captain Kirk, to the Bridge," Lt. Sulu said.

Dr. McCoy pointed at the comm. "Hear it not, Captain, for it is a knell, that summons thee to heaven—or to hell."

"Macbeth, Act 2," Kirk said. He frowned. "Scene 1?"

McCoy smirked. "Hell, that was an easy one."

"Uhura, any word from Command?" Kirk asked as he walked onto the Bridge.

She turned in her seat. "Yes sir. They have dispatched the Bulsara to the Ellison-1 site. It's headed there now."

"Thank you Lieutenant." Kirk slid into the command chair and nodded toward the helm. "Status report, Mister Sulu?"

The helmsman's fingers skirted over the switches and buttons of the Enterprise's flight controls. "I am following the Klingon's trail, sir. Judging from the dispersal rate of the plasma stream, we're gaining on them."

"When will we be within sensor range?"

Sulu ran the numbers. "Within the quarter hour, sir."

"Good."

Captain Kirk watched the viewscreen. They coasted through a sea of black, the white specks of stars slipping past on all sides. Nothing ahead of them but the bottomless void–or so it seemed.

Ensign Sara Peters turned around from her chair at the navigation station. "Captain, I have a theory I'd like to put forward," Peters said. Her face was a delicate mixture of apprehension and eagerness. "If you don't mind."

Spock looked up from his science console with a cocked eyebrow toward Kirk. A Vulcan could convey more with an eyebrow than most humans could after a shot of Romulan ale. It was as if he could feel Spock judging his every reaction to the pretty female ensign.

Kirk frowned and said, "What is it? I haven't exactly got time for theories at the moment."

"I think I know a way to recalibrate the sensors to get a better lock on the Klingon vessel sir," Peters said. "Back in the Academy we used Dr. Hillstrom's theory of quantum cross-angling to assess the trajectory of a—"

"Spock?" Kirk said.

"Possible," Spock said."

"Assist Ensign Peters and see if her theory has any merit."

Spock stepped back from the sensor display as Peters hurried over toward him. When she bent forward to inspect the controls, her short skirt rose up in the back. Kirk looked away to focus on the viewscreen in front of him.

He could almost visualize the Klingon ship in front of them. A work of design and construction in complete opposition to the principles in which Federation ships were conceived. Hard angles and intentionally terrifying as opposed to their own smooth nacelles and sleek curves. Of course, the Klingons were under no mandate of exploration, of diplomacy.

The Klingon Empire was a war machine. In Kirk's opinion, a race of murderers hell bent on the enslavement of free peoples. Their ships reflected that.

Monsters, he thought. Brutal, unmerciful monsters. Perhaps it would be necessary for one to become a monster in order to fight them.

A small blurry shape appeared on the corner of the screen. Kirk squinted and leaned forward, trying to decide what it could be. A speck of space dust on the Enterprise's sensors, most likely.

"That's it!" Ensign Peters called out. "That's the Klingon vessel."

"Lay in a pursuit course, Mr. Sulu," Kirk said. "All hands, red alert."

"Aye sir," Sulu said.

Red lights and clarion bells rang throughout the ship. Kirk looked at the monitor on his chair until he saw that each station was manned and ready. He glanced back at Uhura and said, "Lieutenant, open hailing frequencies."

"You're on, sir."

"This is Captain James T. Kirk of the USS Enterprise. You are in violation of Federation space and wanted for the destruction of a civilian science station. Prepare to be boarded and taken into custody."

He waited, but there was no response.

"Nothing, sir," Uhura said.

"Can you speak Klingon, by any chance?" he asked.

"I've been dabbling with it, sir," she said.

"Well, I think this is the perfect time to try it out," he said.

Uhura turned around in her chair and touched her earpiece. Her mouth curled into a snarl and she let out a loud series of clipped barks and guttural sounds as she spoke in the Klingon tongue.

Kirk never failed to be impressed at her ability to master incomprehensible languages. She finished and listened for a response.

"Nothing?" Kirk asked.

Uhura shook her head.

Kirk flipped the toggle on his chair's arm and said, "Broadcast this in every known language through the universal translator. "Attention Klingon vessel. This is the USS Enterprise. Stop now and prepare to be boarded."

Nothing.

"Mr. Chekov, arm phasers," Kirk said.

"Phasers armed, Captain."

"Last chance. Attention Klingon vessel—"

"Federation petaq!" a rumbling voice boomed through the bridge's speakers. "You dare to make demands of us!"

"I make demands of anyone who attacks a defenseless space station and slaughters everyone aboard," Kirk said.

"We know of no such attack! You are out of your pathetic minds. Leave this sector before we sprinkle your ashes across the nearest moon," the Klingon said.

"You will surrender and be taken into custody to stand trial for your crimes," Kirk said. "I'm giving you one chance to surrender."

"Surrender?" Klingon laughter bellowed from the speakers. "Who is going to make us, human? You?"

I was hoping you'd say that, Kirk thought. "Very well. Your refusal has been noted."

"You dare to make demands of me? The Federation who are a plague upon the Empire. When I have finished destroying your vessel, I will—"

"Uhura, close the channel," Kirk said. "Mr. Chekov target their engine and weapons systems."

"Uh," Chekov said as he inspected the tactical readout.

"Or at least as best you can," Kirk added.

"Aye, sir," Chekov said.

Kirk's eyes narrowed. "Fire."

NEXT: "STAR TREK: A BRIGHTLY FLICKERING FLAME" CHAPTER THREE

Bernard Schaffer is an author from the Philadelphia area.

His acclaimed Santero and Rein Thriller series features Carrie Santero and her mentor, the troubled Jacob Rein. The Thief of All Light, An Unsettled Grave, and Blood Angel, are available from Kensington Books.

His western trilogy debuted in 2021 as part of the Ralph Compton imprint with Berkley Books. All three titles, Face of a Snake, Snake's Fury, and Hell Snake, were selected as Walmart paperback exclusives.

Awards for his work include Suspense Magazine Best of 2019 (Suspense Thriller Category) and an Audiobook Reviewers' Choice Award.

Website: .com Email: contact

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Tony Healey is the author of the bestselling Harper & Lane Series, consisting of Hope's Peak, Storm's Edge and Blue Ruin, published by Thomas and Mercer. He is also the author of westerns in the Ralph Compton Western Series, including The Devil's Snare, Blood On The Prairie, Die Trying and The Guns of Wrath. He has several works published independently, including the crime novel Not For Us.

Tony Healey lives and works in Brighton, on the Sussex coast. He is married, has four daughters and a chorkie called Freddy. Tony is represented by his agent, Sharon Pelletier of Dystel, Goderich & Bourrett LLC.

The Harper & Lane Series: /3hCmqoJ

Ralph Compton Westerns: Tony Healey | Penguin Random House

Not For Us: /3hEimo0