Here, however, where the native inhabitants were still centuries away from developing even the most primitive forms of mechanization, the odd thrumming sound was as alien to this planet as he was.
Rising to his feet, Morqla paused long enough to retrieve his disruptor pistol and his d’k tahgknife from the small bureau situated next to his sleeping platform. He stepped into the hall, having to duck in order to pass through the doorway designed with the shorter Palgrenai physiology in mind. The low rumble was somewhat louder here, and more evident in the cold stone floor beneath his bare feet. He was satisfied to see that in addition to the sentries posted at each end of the narrow corridor, other officers under his command had exited their own rooms, and he noted his own expression mirrored on the other eight faces, each of his men regarding him and one another with puzzlement.
“Where is that coming from?” Morqla snapped as he tucked the d’k tahginto the waistband of the loose-fitting trousers he wore. Securing the knife at the small of his back and tucking the tail of his rough-hewn shirt behind the weapon’s handle, he ensured he could reach it without having to fumble with his own clothing.
His second-in-command, Kertral, emerged from his own room with disruptor in hand, shirtless and with his dark, long hair flying wildly about his head and shoulders as he turned to face him. “It feels as though it comes from underneath us,” he said. “Has Terath finally succeeded in activating that ancient power generator?”
“At this hour of the night?” Morqla asked, doubt coating every word. While he knew Dr. Terath was dedicated to her pursuit of science, he also had seen her during the evening meal and knew from her own comments that the scientist had planned to retire soon after eating. Her intention had been to rise before dawn so that she and her team could journey some three thousand qelI’qamsto the far side of the continent in order to explore another recently discovered storehouse of centuries-old artifacts, which appeared to be of the same type as those she had been studying these past weeks.
Still, the governor realized, the activation of some ancient power source far beneath the surface of the village made the most sense. All that remained now was to discover who was responsible. Common sense told Morqla it had to be a member of Terath’s science contingent. They had tended to work at all hours of the day or night, never bothering to observe the curfew rules enacted for the village. Their casual dismissal of that and other directives he had enacted since the garrison’s arrival here had given Morqla cause for annoyance more than once.
“Find Terath,” he snapped at Kertral. “Bring her to me.” Now fully awake with no hope of returning to sleep before the new day began, Morqla grunted in resignation. The desk in his office was littered with incomplete status reports, supply requisitions, and other administrative detritus that defined the role and life of a planetary governor, the majority of which he had ignored for days already. There seemed to be no compelling reason to put it off any longer now that he had an unexpected window of opportunity to make an attempt at gaining back some of that ground. “And send me K’voq,” he added as he turned on his heel and lumbered down the narrow, low-ceilinged passageway. “I’m going to need rakta-jino.”
It likely was going to be one of thosedays.
Running footsteps echoing in the stone stairwell preceded the arrival of his aide, K’voq, even his trim form seeming to fill the narrow archway leading to the steps as he dashed into the corridor. He pulled up short at the sudden sight of his superior officer, his eyes wide with unease.
“Governor,” he said, holding up a communicator, “we’re starting to receive reports of disturbances from several of the neighboring villages.”
His brow furrowing in confusion, Morqla’s reply was more growl than spoken word. “What?”
“Fires have been set in many buildings that our forces have occupied,” the aide continued. “The jeghpu’wI’are employing catapults to launch balls of lead coated in a flaming oil. Lieutenant Vekpa reports that the supply depot we established at the Grap’hwuprovince has been destroyed.”
Despite the alarming nature of K’voq’s report, Morqla actually smiled. “So, it seems the jeghpu’wI’have gained a new measure of courage.” Taking the proffered communicator from his assistant, he made his way down the stairs and outside the building that had been commandeered for use as officers’ billeting. He noted that even at this early hour, the air was still thick and humid in keeping with this hemisphere’s near-oppressive summer season.
His attention was drawn to the flames licking the edges of the building at the opposite end of the village’s center square. A hole was visible in the thatch material that covered the structure’s sloped roof. Groups of Palgrenai had emerged from a few of the surrounding buildings to investigate the source of the commotion. Flickering light cast off from the fire reflected off their leathery skin, momentarily reminding Morqla of one species of particularly fierce reptile he had encountered during his youth while hunting in the jungles of Qo’noS.
As Morqla moved farther into the courtyard he noted from the expressions on some of the villagers’ faces that few of the locals appeared to be frightened or surprised by the sudden assault of the otherwise peaceful night. He saw nothing that indicated outright guilt or even complicity, but instinct told the governor that the local populace was not entirely ignorant about what had happened.
“Look out!” a voice shouted from somewhere behind him at the same instant Morqla caught sight of something hurtling through the air to his right. A ball of fire, perhaps the size of a bloodwine barrel, then two more objects of similar size all arced over the trees surrounding the outskirts of the village. The trio of flaming projectiles sailed into the perimeter of the courtyard. Klingons and Palgrenai alike scattered in all directions as two of the fireballs struck the compacted earth while the third plunged through the roof of the building that had been designated as a dining facility for the Klingon garrison. Sparks and pieces of the structure flew into the air from the point of impact.
“ Bekk!”Morqla heard Kertral shout above the rising din of people yelling and the sound of alert sirens echoing through the courtyard. The governor turned to see his executive officer gathering a cadre of QuchHa’as they emerged from the building that served as a barracks for enlisted troops. “Form a search party. I want those cretins found and their heads on pikes before the sun rises!”
Even as his second-in-command issued further orders for the rounding up of Palgrenai villagers, other Klingon soldiers and locals continued to seek shelter from a new barrage of flaming shot raining down from the surrounding forest. Morqla had to admire the audacity of the attack, by far the most intensive act of sedition the jeghpu’wI’had attempted since the beginning of the occupation.
“Catapults,” he said, as another pair of flaming shots was launched from the trees and into the village square. “Impressive.”
Both of the projectiles missed hitting any of the buildings ringing the courtyard, though a few of his soldiers had to scramble to avoid being in the path of one as it plunged back to earth and bored a hole into the dry, dusty soil. Burning globs of whatever flammable substance the jeghpu’wI’had used to coat the makeshift cannonballs were flung into the air, some of it landing on a few of his troops, who in turn smacked and swiped at the flaming debris now sticking to them.
For the Palgrenai to have constructed not only the primitive implements but also the strategy to deploy them—apparently in concert with similar attacks taking place at other villages in the region—without their preparations being discovered by members of the Klingon garrison was a surprising feat. It spoke volumes not only of the villagers’ abilities to employ secrecy and cunning but also the seeming ineptitude of his own soldiers to monitor the activities of the not-so-helpless primitives over which they presided.