Story:Star Trek: Pioneer/On a Knife Edge/Prologue

"A wise man has great power, and a man of knowledge increases strength; for waging war you need guidance, and for victory many advisers."


 * Proverbs 24: 6, 7 (NIV Bible)

15 June 2598 (Earth calendar) Ssaur system, Gorn space

There was something about this part of space that always made him shudder with anxiety. Beyond the single planet and sun of the lonely Ssaur system was simply lifeless space, no movement, no sound. But this vacuum of space had claimed so many victims in its past, from cargo convoys to entire squadrons, and he feared that he and his ship would be next. Still, running freight was a hazardous job in any region of space, but amongst the recognisable stars of this sector he felt at home, secure on the knowledge that there were patrol ships close-by, watching his every move, making sure he didn’t deviate from his course.

It was just another typical day on the job, and Captain Kkossa knew it. It had been that way for 23 long years, 23 years of reminding himself why exactly he had regretfully declined a position commanding a battlecruiser in the Gorn Defence Fleet, 23 years of never forgiving himself for deserting from his own family like the coward he was. He sighed, letting the thoughts subside, and returned to his console, focussing on the work at hand. Not that there was much to do, he mused, watching as a junior lieutenant entered the room and went about his work with a quick glance at his captain. His thoughts drifted back to his family. What would they think of him if they were to meet him now? Would they forgive him for leaving? Could he return to his old life as if nothing ever happened?

A beeping coming from a nearby console interrupted his brief contemplation. The junior lieutenant, a young man named Skkan, moved to the lower part of the deck to determine the cause of the beeping. I wonder why Skkan chose to work on this bucket of bolts, Kkossa asked himself for what seemed like the millionth time. He had taught the inexperienced officer from the age of 13, when he was eligible to enter whatever profession he so desired. Apparently the decision hadn’t gone down so well in his family either, so at least they shared something in common. Skkan often recounted stories of his brother, who had joined the Defence Force, and therefore wasn’t likely to see Skkan for quite some time. Kkossa knew what that felt like. After joining the Defence Force at age 15, he didn’t see his family for nine years. There had been constant attacks by the Tholians, and he didn’t have time to contact his own family. Well, there isn’t much I can do about that now, he thought.

Skkan turned to face him, bemused. What could it be?

“There’s an unidentified vessel approaching from aft,” he said, the hissing reflecting off the wall.

“Are you sure it’s unidentifiable? Have you checked the database?”

“Yes. There’s no record of it.”

“Open communication with them.”

The lieutenant activated the comm, moving his large fingers across his computer station with practised ease. “They’re not responding,” he answered. “I’ve tried all the frequencies.”

“Open a channel.” Skkan worked the console, and the short monotone beep that sounded next confirmed to Kkossa that the channel was open.

“You have entered restricted space. Identify yourselves by order of the Gorn Hegemony.”

For a moment, there was nothing. Then a sharp crackle of static, followed by a very tinny, robotic sounding voice, which said simply:

“Request denied.”

Kkossa was taken aback for a second. Nobody had ever refused an instruction in such a way before. He looked over at Skkan, who himself was gazing at the main viewer, a look of puzzlement and shock crossing his face. Then Kkossa realised what it was all about. Glancing at the main viewer himself, he watched as the unidentified vessel began to glow a light shade of blue that increased steadily in brightness.

The first shot caught him off-guard. As he had stood in the middle of the deck, there was nothing to use for support. He was immediately knocked off his feet as the enemy ship’s weapon catapulted into his ship, sending sparks flying and leaving many of his crewmen on their backs, having been in the same predicament as him.

“Raise shields! Get our weapons online!” he shouted amongst the commotion that had stricken his crew. As various officers rushed about their duties, Kkossa saw one man still on the ground, motionless, and with light yellow blood oozing from his head.

It was Skkan. He had obviously been jolted extremely hard into a support, killing him instantly. Kkossa couldn’t believe that he had been so foolish not to raise the shields any earlier.

“Shields aren’t responding!” hissed another lieutenant, causing Kkossa to realise how much danger his crew were in now.

He didn’t have time to complete his thought when another shot struck the disabled vessel, sending Kkossa back to the ground. As his consciousness faded in and out of life, he realised that the very region of space he had feared for so long was about to claim its latest victim.

Him.

Chapter 1