Chapter 43
Target number three, Jem'Hadar planet
Klingons were not renowned for being quiet or careful, but Koreq's troops were both as they made their way through the rows of pallets in the enormous warehouse, carefully laying their explosive charges as they went. His soldiers were well trained professionals, and they knew they had only one shot at this. For the moment, while they made their preparations, stealth was their best weapon, but that would all change very soon. Glorious combat awaited.
A faint mechanical sound caught Koreq's attention, and he stilled, a quick hand signal warning his troops to do the same. Listening carefully, he came to the conclusion that it was a roller door either opening or closing somewhere off to the side and out of their line of sight. But if a door was in use, it could mean someone was coming through it. Yes, there it was, heavy footsteps and they were getting louder and closer. Keeping his back pressed against the stack of boxes, he cautiously inched forward, disruptor rifle at the ready, and peered around the edge of the stack.
At first, he saw nothing, then two figures came round a corner and into the main corridor of the warehouse. In the semi-darkness, neither was more than a dark shadow, but they were moving towards Koreq's position at a fast pace. They could not afford to be discovered yet, and making a swift decision, the Klingon stepped out in front of them and opened fire.
His aim was perfect, and both figures fell instantly, a blackened, smoking hole in each of their chests. Had his weapon been set to full power, there would have been absolutely nothing left of them, but wanting to get a look at them, he'd powered it down to a lower level. He stepped closer, bending to examine the bodies. They were not Jem'Hadar, which he'd known anyway as their silhouette had been wrong for that, but he was horrified to discover that one of them was human. The other belonged to some species that he did not recognise. Both men were poor specimens of their kinds, gaunt and underweight, and wearing clothing that was barely functional. Prisoners, Koreq realised with disgust. He had just killed two innocents.
He raised his hand to his earpiece, ready to activate the mic to send a warning to Speares at the other site, although he suspected that the human marine had probably made the same discovery by now. It changed everything, and at the same time it changed nothing. This was not a rescue mission – not that he had any issue with rescuing prisoners of the Dominion, but it was unlikely that unless the Unforgotten One, or maybe the nameless deity some of the Terrans worshiped, decided to intervene on their behalf, none of them, whether soldier or prisoner, were going home.
In the distance, a man's voice called something out, the language unmistakeably Terran English with what Koreq thought might be an American accent, although he was not completely sure about that.
The voice called out again, coming closer this time, and Koreq dropped his hand back to his disruptor rifle. A third figure hurried round the corner, and seeing the two corpses, still smoking from the disruptor blast, and the hulking figure standing over them, he stopped abruptly, a look on his face that might have been horror or terror, or maybe both.
"Who… What… Klingons? But how…?" The man took a step backwards, starting to turn as though to flee.
Koreq raised his weapon. "Stay where you are!"
The Terran froze, and at a sharp gesture, two of Koreq's soldiers stepped out from their hiding places, grabbed the man and pulled him back into the relative safety of the racking.
"Identify yourself!" Koreq barked. "What are you doing here?"
The Terran stared up at Koreq who was surprised to see that he was no longer displaying fear, only resignation, and maybe relief at the knowledge that, live or die, it was finally over.
"Nick Harris, first mate of the SS Liberty Belle. Freighter out of Mars," he added, seeing their lack of comprehension. Got taken a year ago, I'm the only one left now. So, who are you guys? I'm assuming you're not here to rescue us?"
"Koreq, security chief of the IKC Hegh'Ta." The Klingon gave his designation proudly, before adding ironically, "Defence Force ship out of Qo'noS. And you are correct; this was not intended to be a rescue mission, although it appears to have become one."
"What is it then? Military strike?" The Terran shook his head as he attempted to process what was happening. "Good!" he said after a moment. "It's about bloody time someone destroyed this hellhole. So… what can we do to help?"
Bridge, USS Endeavour
Swerving to aim at their second target, Endeavour shook violently for the second time in as many minutes as it was hit by several enemy weapons. "Shields down to sixty percent," Elana Kal yelled from her position at the security console. "Rerouting auxiliary systems to bring them back up to full strength."
Mackenzie grabbed hold of the back of his chair for support as the bridge shook again, but somehow managed to keep his balance. He would be better off in his chair, he knew, but the idea of sitting down in a battle of this magnitude was just… wrong. He would have preferred to be down there with his marines, but since that wasn't possible, he needed to be on his feet.
Damage reports were coming in from all over the ship, and he knew without asking, that his engineers were frantically working to not only hold the ship together but also to provide enough power for the shields and weapons.
In the midst of the chaos, the comm system crackled into life. The voice belonged to Major Speares. "We have new intel. Captain, do NOT… I repeat, do NOT attack target number four."
"What? What the hell, Speares! What's going on down there?"
"We've found prisoners, sir. Forced labour; all three facilities are full of them. The Klingons have split their forces and we're sending a detachment over to site four to help them."
"Understood," Mackenzie said tersely. Speares had said nothing about site one and he did not ask. If there had been prisoners in the weapons facility as well, it was too late to save them. Anybody inside that building was already dead. "We'll cover you as best we can. Endeavour out."
"Hegh'Ta also acknowledges," Krang called out from that ship's bridge, having listened to the entire exchange. "Adjusting our targets accordingly."
Target number four, Jem'Hadar planet
When the combined Starfleet and Klingon team reached the site of target four, they had found the factory in absolute uproar. The Jem'Hadar guards, alerted to the enemy by urgent messages from the other factories, and by the sights and sounds of the battle raging overhead, had gone berserk. In response, the prisoners, realising that whether rescue or death awaited (and after so long in imprisonment, not really caring which), had picked up whatever tools they could turn into impromptu weapons and rioted.
Targets two and three had been left in a similar state. Telling, Davis what had happened, Kerrik had been very impressed with the courage of the Terran prisoner they had encountered. Going back into the main production area, the human had quietly approached another worker and whispered something in his ear. The worker had nodded and turned to the person on the other side of him, doing likewise. By the time the Jem'Hadar guards had noticed anything amiss, it was too late, and half the factory was up in arms against them, the other half swiftly following suit. There had been many deaths, but the guards hadn't stood a chance, and despite their weaponry, were rapidly overwhelmed by the sheer number of prisoners attacking them.
Taking advantage of the unexpected support, Koreq had sent some of his troops in there to assist while others finished laying the explosives. Savagely striking down a Jem'Hadar guard who had managed to get too close to them, and almost taking off his head, the Klingon security chief had taken one last look around him to ensure that all was ready, and then given the order to evacuate.
Davis nodded. It had been a similar scenario at target two, he told the Klingon, hands busy wiring the final explosive charge as he spoke. The prisoners at that site had been disappointed to learn that it was not a rescue mission but had quickly thrown themselves into helping the Starfleet infiltrators. "Right," he said finally. "That's the last one. I think we're done. It's all ready for detonation."
Casting a professional glance at his Federation colleagues' work, Kerrik inclined his head. "Qapla'! Well done." Straightening up, he raised his disruptor rifle and fired it into the air, once, twice and then a third time, giving the pre-arranged signal to evacuate the building so the charges could be detonated. "EVERYBODY OUT!"
Bridge, USS Endeavour
The starship turned again, firing at an enemy ship that was attacking Hegh'Ta and scoring a glancing blow. Looking again at his tactical screen, Mackenzie suddenly saw an opportunity and pointed it out to the Klingon captain. Together, the two ships dived dangerously low into the atmosphere, and on Krang's mark, they fired simultaneously at the weak spot the Federation captain had identified, Jem'Hadar ships streaking after them. Immediately after firing, both ships turned and shot upwards and away from the devastation. But even as they gained height, Krang saw an enemy move in under the Endeavour and sent the Hegh'Ta swooping to intercept.
Mackenzie watched the weapons facility explode, a huge fireball shooting into space, taking out four of the Jem'Hadar cruisers. It was with shock that he saw the Klingon ship caught by the edge of the blast as it tried to protect his own ship.
A massive hole in one wing, the Hegh'Ta spun out of control and went tumbling through the upper atmosphere, its remaining cannon still firing crazily at the enemy. And there were still plenty of ships to fire at. Six had been destroyed now but that still left six relatively undamaged and fully alert Jem'Hadar ships to contend with. His own ship had sustained damage, and Hegh'Ta was in serious trouble.
"Are you okay over there?" Captain Mackenzie called. He knew it was a stupid question, but he asked it anyway.
"We've got a coolant leak in engineering, and no shields worth mentioning," Krang responded, "but we're fine. We've done what we came to do; now retrieve your marines and get your ship out of here before it's too late."
"And leave you here?" Captain Mackenzie gave a very Klingon growl, showing his contempt for that idea. "Don't be a complete idiot!" Seeing two more enemy ships heading towards the bird-of-prey, he gave orders to divert more power to the weapons system and began to fire again. It was with great satisfaction that he saw the shots find their target, and as he watched, Hegh'Ta began to regain control of its helm. The injured ship straightened up and began to gather speed, heading towards the nearest enemy vessel. Suddenly he realised what the Klingon was planning as he listened to the orders being given on the Klingon bridge.
"Prepare to ram the enemy!" he heard Krang shout. "Heghlu'meH QaQ jajvam!"
"It is a good day to die," Captain Mackenzie echoed. He'd guessed from the beginning that this would be a suicide mission; now it was confirmed. Running was no longer an option; Endeavour's engines were too badly damaged and even with the engineers working flat out, it would be some time before they could go to warp – time that they did not have.
Mackenzie took a moment that they didn't really have to think of his crew. His bridge officers, the people with whom he worked most closely. Argyle and the engineering team, working flat out to hold the ship together. T'Lia and her nurses down in sickbay, still working to save the casualties of the many fights they had endured over the last few weeks. Speares and the marines who were fighting down on the planet and were about to be stranded there. And so many more. Maintenance workers, cleaners, even a few administrative assistants. And Kehlan. He did not know if he could bear to look at her, but he did, and found that it brought him comfort. Kehlan, with whom he'd hoped to spend the rest of his life – and at least that part was coming true, he acknowledged wryly, although he'd hoped their life together would last for years, not just a few paltry weeks.
Opening a ship-wide channel, Mackenzie addressed his crew. "We are heavily outnumbered, but we have completed our objective and destroyed the enemy base – not just their weapons facility, but thousands of tonnes of Ketracel White which would have been used to sustain and control the enemy soldiers fighting against us. We cannot escape, and even if we could, I would not leave Hegh'Ta to die alone. Whatever happens to us now, we have already won this fight, and we will win this war. Every Jem'Hadar ship we destroy today is one less to attack the Federation."
"Then we go down fighting!" Kehlan growled. Knife instinctively finding its way into her hand, she got to her feet as was appropriate for a Klingon about to meet death. "We will take at least one more of those ships with us, and we will die honourably, with our teeth in the throat of our enemy!"
Similar responses were already coming in from other departments, and surveying those around him, the captain realised that she spoke for all of them. If there was fear or anger, he saw none of it. There was nothing but grim determination in their faces and a readiness to do their duty right to the end.
"You are a good crew," he said resolutely, "the best any captain could ever hope to have. It has been an honour serving with you."