Star Trek: Vanguard: Storming Heaven by David Mack Page B

no doubt in Droga’s mind that a thoughtless act of bravado at that moment would accomplish nothing except the near-instantaneous destruction of his ship and crew.
    “Understood, Enterprise . We await your approved flight plan. Droga out.” Magron cut the channel, and the rest of the crew sagged into their chairs. It was obvious that no songs would be sung over that night’s meal aboard the vaQjoH . Staring at the massive gray battle cruiser lurking on their aft quarter, Droga understood all too well why many of his fellow starship commanders had begun using Kirk’s name as a curse and the word Enterprise as an obscenity.
    Discreetly savoring the sweet taste of victory, Captain James T. Kirk watched the Enterprise ’s main viewscreen, which showed the aft end of the Klingon bird-of-prey vaQjoH as it retreated toward Klingon space with the Enterprise close behind it. All around Kirk, the sounds of the bridge and the hum of the ship’s impulse engines were a welcome aural backdrop after nearly a full day of eerie silence. Acting on orders from the sector’s ranking officer, the Enterprise had been lurking near a planetarydebris field, lying in ambush with its key systems running at minimum levels and all nonessential systems powered down. Now the Constitution -class starship was under way at full power, as Kirk preferred.
    Kirk got up from his command chair and strode to the forward console, which was manned by helmsman Lieutenant Hikaru Sulu and navigator Ensign Pavel Chekov. “Keep that ship within optimal firing range, Mister Sulu.”
    “Aye, sir,” Sulu said, his baritone cool and professional.
    To Chekov, Kirk added, “Make sure you keep the heat on them, Ensign.”
    Chekov looked over his shoulder and up at Kirk. “All weapons still locked, sir.”
    As he stepped away, he gave the boyish Russian a friendly pat on the shoulder. “Good work.” He climbed the short steps out of the bridge’s command well to its upper ring and joined his first officer, Commander Spock, who peered intently into the cerulean glow emanating from the hooded sensor display. “Spock, any sign the Klingons have armed weapons?”
    “None, Captain.” Spock straightened and turned to face Kirk. “They appear to have taken our warning at face value.”
    “As well they should.” Kirk looked across the bridge toward the communications console. “Lieutenant Uhura, inform Vanguard that our objective has been accomplished, and we await further orders.”
    Uhura nodded. “Aye, sir.” She turned to her panel and sent the message.
    The half-Vulcan, half-human first officer leaned closer to Kirk and looked at the image of the Klingon ship on the main viewscreen. “The advance intelligence Vanguard provided about this attack was surprisingly accurate, Captain. Their mission briefing predicted not only the coordinates of the Klingons’ ambush, but its time and likely attack vector.”
    Spock’s observations stoked Kirk’s curiosity—and his suspicions. “You think they had something to do with arranging the attack?”
    The question prompted Spock to recoil slightly and cock one eyebrow in mild surprise. “Not at all. I was merely remarking on the admirable degree of precision in their report. In retrospect, it appears to be well grounded in logical assumptions.”
    Kirk frowned. “Right down to the Klingons starting to use cloaking devices.”
    “A troubling development, to be certain. A Klingon-Romulan alliance could alter the balance of power throughout known space.”
    As always, Spock’s knack for understatement fueled Kirk’s cynicism. “That’s a nice way of saying they’d be writing the Federation’s epitaph inside of a year, Spock.”
    Brow creased with thought, Spock replied, “I doubt the situation would become so dire so quickly. And, while such a development would prove less than advantageous to the Federation, it would not significantly alter our current security status.”
    Anxiety put an edge on Kirk’s