Reap the Whirlwind

T’Pry

“What my esteemed colleague neglects to mention,” Jetanien interjected, “is that any counterstrike we might make would fall first and foremost upon the colonists of New Boulder.”

“I omitted that detail because it is irrelevant,” T’Pry

“Commodore!” shouted Lieutenant Commander Dohan from the main deck of the operations center. “Emergency signal from the New Boulder president’s office!”

Reyes lurched away from the hub toward the railing that circled the edge of the supervisor’s deck. “Onscreen!”

A static-hashed scene from a nightmare appeared, spa

But all he could see was Jea

Struck dumb with guilt and horror, Reyes had no defense. Risking the colonists’ lives had been an abstraction, a game of numbers, but watching them die in real time—the reality of it sickened him to his core. He didn’t know what to say. Groping futilely for words, all he could muster was her name, and even that caught in his throat as tears overflowed his eyes.

“Jea

She screamed. A fearsome blur ripped her body in half, then obliterated her completely in a whirlwind of slashing blows.

Weak, wordless sounds issued from Reyes’s throat. His knees buckled. He slumped over the railing, unable and unwilling to catch himself. His fall was arrested by Jetanien’s scaly manus from the right and T’Pry

He felt as if he were suffocating; he couldn’t make himself breathe. The desperate choking sounds of his strangled grief echoed in the sudden, profound silence of the operations center. There was no strength in his legs; only his friends’ support kept him upright long enough to plant his hands on the hub and slump forward.

The signal from Gamma Tauri IV ended, and the great screen behind Reyes turned blank and dark gray. Long seconds of heartbreaking emptiness pressed down upon him. He reached up to palm the tears from his cheeks and eyes; his hands, normally so warm, were ice-cold.

One breath followed another. Focus returned. He knew what had to be done. Swallowing to clear his throat and steady his voice, he turned toward his first officer. “Coop,” he said, “get Captain Khatami onscreen.”

“Aye, sir,” Cooper said. He relayed the order, which traveled the deck in swiftly whispered acts of delegation.

Several seconds later, as the main viewer blinked back to life with an image of Captain Atish Khatami, Reyes regained his weathered mask of stoic resolve. “Captain,” he said. “Is your ship still combat-ready?”

“Yes, Commodore,” Khatami said with a curious double-take.

Everyone around Reyes was silent as he continued. “Then these are your new orders. I want the Endeavour and the Lovell to fall back to maximum photon-torpedo range from Gamma Tauri IV. From there, you will execute General Order 24 against the planet immediately. Is that understood?”

Khatami looked taken aback. “General Order 24, sir?”

“You heard me, Captain,” Reyes said. “Glass it.”

It had been several minutes since any outgoing transmissions had been detected from Gamma Tauri IV, and Atish Khatami knew that in all likelihood it was because all the colonists—including the Klingons—were dead. Pondering the commodore’s invocation of General Order 24, however, she mourned the countless indigenous species that thrived on that world—plants, bacteria, insects, complex terrestrial and marine animals, and others so unique that they had as yet defied classification. Part of Starfleet’s credo echoed in her thoughts: “to seek out new life…”

In moments, she would be exterminating it.

This isn’t right, protested her conscience. It’s a sin against Allah, a crime against science. She clenched her jaw and reminded herself that Commodore Reyes would not have given such an order lightly. She pictured the shadowy killing machines that had rampaged across the New Boulder colony and imagined them finding their way to Deneva…and bearing down on her husband and daughter. That notion made Reyes’s order easier to follow.

Lieutenant Estrada turned from the communications station. “Captain Okagawa confirms the Lovell is set to fire on your order, Captain.”

Stano stepped down into the command well of the bridge and placed herself at Khatami’s right side. “All torpedo bays loaded and ready, Captain.”

“Mr. Klisiewicz,” Khatami said, “where are the Klingons?”

The science officer checked the sensor display and reported quickly. “Holding at station, opposite our position relative to the planet.”

Khatami looked to Estrada. “Hail them.”

Though the commodore’s orders hadn’t included warning the Klingons about the impending barrage, Khatami decided it might be prudent to make sure they understood in advance that they would not be the target of the forthcoming salvos of torpedoes. Bad enough I have to blast a planet down to its mantle, she decided, I’m not starting an interstellar incident as well.

“I have the Klingon commander,” Estrada said.

“Onscreen.” Khatami faced the main viewer.

The image of a grizzled, gray-maned, ridged-headed Klingon warrior gazed back at her. “This is Captain Gerzhog, commanding the Imperial Klingon battle cruiser HovQaw’wI’,” he rasped. “Identify yourself.”

“Captain Atish Khatami, commanding the Federation starship Endeavour,” she replied. “We’ve been ordered to begin immediate photon-torpedo bombardment of Gamma Tauri IV. This barrage will continue until all life on the planet has been exterminated. We will not target your vessel. Do you understand?”

Gerzhog conferred briefly with someone out of frame and answered, “Understood, Endeavour. We will assist you by bombarding the hemisphere opposite your position. HovQaw’wI’ out.” The screen blinked back to a motionless starfield.

“The Klingons have armed their weapons array, Captain,” Klisiewicz said. “Their targeting sca

“Then it’s time,” Khatami said. She stood from her chair. In unison the crew got up from their seats and stood at attention beside their duty stations. “Mr. Thorsen,” she said, looking to the chief of security and senior weapons officer. “Ten full salvos, on my order.” Khatami turned back toward the main viewer and steeled herself. Gamma Tauri IV was just a speck on the viewscreen, and that was how she wanted it to stay until this was over. She had no desire to observe this atrocity in detail. Denying herself the luxury of tears, she gave the order.