Storming Heaven

“Captain Khatami refuses to leave you behind,” T’Pry

Cracks began to form in the transparent enclosure of the isolation chamber, the wall of triple-reinforced transparent steel that the engineers had assured him was impenetrable.

Xiong realized the Endeavour’s crew would never abandon him as long as there remained a chance that they could pluck him from danger, and he had no time to explain the true nature of the threat before them. He couldn’t take the chance that they would steal him away and leave the Shedai free to terrorize the galaxy for another aeon.

He dropped his communicator to the floor and crushed it under his heel. Putting his weight into it, he ground the fragile device beneath his boot until nothing remained but broken bits and coarse dust.

Inside the isolation chamber, the array collapsed like a house of cards in a gale.

A symphony of shattering crystal filled the air.

Then came the darkness.

T’Pry

Over the comm, one of the Endeavour’s transporter chiefs was in a panic. “Vanguard! What happened? We’ve lost your man’s signal!”

“Stand by,” T’Pry

“Make it quick,” the chief said. “We’re being told it’s time to go.”

Massive interference from the starbase’s overloading reactors and numerous radiation leaks from battle damage made it difficult for T’Pry

If Xiong was doing what she suspected, then speed was now of the essence.

A final check of her panel confirmed that all the other perso

“We’ve lost Lieutenant Xiong,” she said. “Retreat at maximum speed as soon as I’m aboard. One to beam up. T’Pry

Kirk swelled with admiration for his crew. Asked to do the impossible, they had carried it off with aplomb, unleashing the Enterprise’s formidable arsenal against the Tholian armada despite being locked into a circular flight pattern with no margin for evasion or error.

Even as the ship had lurched and shuddered beneath a devastating series of disruptor blasts and plasma detonations, chief engineer Montgomery Scott had kept the shields at nearly full power, and helmsman Hikaru Sulu hadn’t wavered an inch from the close-formation position Kirk had ordered him to maintain between the Enterprise and the Endeavour. Ensign Pavel Chekov’s targeting had been exemplary—not only had he dealt his share of damage to the Tholians, he had even picked off several of their incoming plasma charges, detonating them harmlessly in open space several kilometers from the ship.

Every captain thinks his crew is the best, Kirk mused with pride. I know mine is.

Lieutenant Uhura swiveled away from the communications panel. “Captain, we’re being hailed by the Endeavour. Captain Khatami’s given the order to withdraw at best possible speed.”

“Then it’s time to go,” Kirk said. “Sulu, widen our radius, give them room to break orbit. Set course for the convoy, warp factor six.”

Spock stepped down into the command well and approached Kirk’s chair. “Captain, sensors show the Endeavour’s warp drive is off line. She will not be able to stay with us.”

“Sulu, belay my last.” Kirk spun his chair toward Uhura. “Get me Captain Khatami.”

A thunderous collision dimmed the lights and the deck pitched sharply, sending half the bridge crew tumbling to starboard. Kirk held on to his chair until the inertial dampers and artificial gravity reset to normal. “Damage report!”

Spock hurried back to his station and checked the sensor readouts. “Dorsal shield buckling. Hull breach on Decks Three and Four, port side.”

Uhura interjected, “I have Captain Khatami, sir.”

“On-screen,” Kirk said. As soon as Khatami’s weary, bloodstained face appeared on the main viewscreen, Kirk asked, “How long until your warp drive’s back on line, Captain?”

The transmission became hashed with interference as Endeavour weathered another jarring hit. Khatami coughed and waved away smoke. “Any minute now. Go ahead without us.”

“With all respect, Captain: Not a chance. Signal us when you’re ready for warp speed. We’ll cover you till then. Kirk out.” He glanced at Uhura and made a quick slashing gesture, and she closed the transmission before Khatami could argue with him. “New plan. Sulu, stay on the Endeavour’s aft quarter and act as her shield until they recover warp power. Chekov, concentrate all fire aft—discourage the Tholians from chasing us. Spock, angle all deflector screens aft. Everyone else, get comfortable; we’re in for a very bumpy ride.”

35

Billions of radiant specks swam in the frigid darkness that surrounded Ming Xiong. Demonic howls and wails assailed him, but his eardrums were still ringing with ti

He couldn’t bring himself to scream as the Shedai erupted in a torrent from the isolation chamber and gathered around him in a great cloud, a storm of ice and shadow. His mind was numb, his very existence reduced to a state of inarticulate horror. All he could do was cling to his pedestal-shaped console and watch the real-time sensor readouts.

The Enterprise and the Endeavour were still too close to the station for him to risk triggering the self-destruct system. Why haven’t they gone to warp? He feared with each passing moment that he might have to condemn them to share his fate.

At the same time, except for a small force of ships that were pursuing the Endeavour and the Enterprise, the Tholian armada was redeploying into a close-range heavy bombardment formation around the station. As devoutly as Xiong wished he could have left this matter to them, he couldn’t trust their weapons to even affect the Shedai, much less guarantee their destruction. Worse, their impending barrage might damage the Vault’s self-destruct system enough to prevent it from unleashing its maximum yield at the moment of detonation, so he would have to trigger the autodestruct package as soon as they resumed fire on the station, regardless of whether the Endeavour and the Enterprise had escaped the blast zone.

And still, all he wanted to do was run.

A dark flash of motion, a black blur in the shadows, and he felt the sharp bite of an obsidian blade as it slammed through his torso. His knees buckled, and then he felt as if he were standing on rubber legs. Blood, warm and tasting of tin, gurgled up his esophagus and spilled over his chin. He looked down and saw the broadsword-sized, jagged-edged mass that had impaled him. Following its edge back toward its source, he saw that it became translucent within a meter of his body, and after that it gradually changed states, first to a dense liquid and then to a tenuous mass of vapor extended from the great cloud of Shedai.

The tentacle jerked back, yanking its black blade from Xiong’s body in an agonizing blur that left him clutching at his belly with one hand and hanging onto his console with the other. Where he expected to find his blood and viscera spilling out, he found a freezing cold mass of quartzlike stone covering his wound. Then he felt its deathly chill traveling across his skin, and he realized it was spreading. An icy, stabbing sensation inside his gut alerted him to the substance’s cancerlike progression through his internal organs. Cold suffused his body, and he felt his strength ebbing along with his body’s heat.