Star Trek: Pantheon by Michael Jan Friedman Read Free Book Online

his preparation of the message buoy, Agnarsson had been trying to see how much punishment he could take. Each time he penetrated the barrier, it seemed, he was able to endure it a little longer than the previous time.
    Eventually, he would be able to pass through it altogether. The captain didn’t doubt that for a minute. In time, he reflected, Agnarsson would be unstoppable.
    Tarasco desperately didn’t want to destroy the engineer or anyone else. That was why he had taken so long to release the message buoy. It was why he was lingering here on the bridge, watching the buoy spin off into space for as long as possible.
    But it was becoming increasingly obvious that he had to act. Agnarsson was a deadly threat to the life of every man and woman on the Valiant. The engineer had to be sacrificed, and soon…or the buoy would be all that was left of them.
    And it wasn’t just the crew that was at risk. If Agnarsson took control of the ship, he might be able to repair its crippled propulsion system. Then he would have access to every planet in the galaxy, including the ones that boasted sentient populations.
    Including, ultimately, Earth.
    Tarasco patted the laser pistol on his hip. He couldn’t allow a monster to be unleashed on his homeworld. He had to put his dread aside and do something about it.
    “I’m coming,” he told Pelletier. “Tarasco out.”
    Slowly, feeling as if he were laden with weights, the captain turned to his helm officer. “Lieutenant Sommers,” he said, “you’ve got the bridge.”
    The woman turned and looked at him, knowing full well what Pelletier’s summons had been about. “Aye, sir.”
    Pushing himself up out of his center seat, the captain made his way to the lift at the rear of the bridge and tapped the touch-sensitive plate on the bulkhead. The doors slid aside for him and he entered the compartment, then punched in his destination.
    It took slightly more than a minute for the lift to convey him to Deck Ten. The doors opened on arrival and he stepped out into the corridor.
    The brig was just down the hall. Tarasco followed the bend of the passageway reluctantly. Along the way, it occurred to him that he would have to look Agnarsson in the eyes before he killed him.
    It would hurt to do that, no question about it. But it wouldn’t stop him. No matter what, he would press the trigger.
    Of course, he could have ordered one of his crewmen to destroy the prisoner for him. But Tarasco wasn’t the type to put that kind of burden on one of his people. If anyone was going to wake up screaming in the middle of the night, it was going to be him.
    He was less than twenty meters from the brig when he realized that something was wrong. It was too quiet, the captain told himself. He couldn’t even hear the buzz of Agnarsson’s force field.
    Drawing his laser pistol from its place in his belt, Tarasco held it before him and advanced more warily. After a few seconds, Pelletier’s muscular body came into view. The security chief was sprawled across the floor, his neck bent at an impossible angle, a trickle of dark blood running from the corner of his open mouth.
    The captain swore under his breath.
    His teeth grinding with grief and anger, he paused to kneel at Pelletier’s side and feel his neck for a pulse. There wasn’t any. And the man’s weapon was fully charged, meaning he hadn’t even gotten a chance to fire it before Agnarsson got to him.
    Tarasco got up and went on, sweat streaming down both sides of his face, his heart banging against his ribs so hard he thought they would break. At any moment, he thought, Agnarsson might reach out with his mind and strangle him to death.
    But it didn’t happen. The captain reached the brig unscathed.
    It didn’t take an expert to see that its force field had been deactivated or disabled. The room itself was empty. And the two security officers who had been helping to guard Agnarsson were laid out on the deck, their necks broken as badly as