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Page 13


  “What’s going on?” Hoshi asked as she stepped down from the transporter platform. “Where are we?”

  “The Aldus system,” Tucker replied, moving around the console. “We’re under attack by rebel forces. You can thank your husband for that, by the way. From the looks of things, he let the rebels set a trap for us when we came looking for you.”

  “Get me Mayweather,” Hoshi said as she crossed to the transporter console and reached for its inset comm panel.

  “That might be a problem, Your Majesty,” Tucker replied. “Admiral Talas is in command of the Defiant and our task force. Shran’s orders. He’s pretty much replaced anyone in a key position with an Andorian.”

  Hoshi shook her head. She did not recognize the admiral’s name, but quickly dismissed the officer as one of Shran’s followers.

  “I’m taking command immediately, Mister Tucker,” she said, feeling some of her weariness squelched as adrenaline kicked in, fueled by her renewed drive to seek vengeance on her husband. When another blast struck the Defiant, she gripped the console for support as she looked to Tucker. “What about our task force?”

  “We have five other ships,” Tucker explained, “including the Imperator.”

  Nodding at the report, Hoshi ran a hand through her hair. “I need to contact Fleet Admiral Robinson.” Even as she spoke the words, she knew that would be a tall order. Communications outside the ship were routed through the main station on the bridge.

  However, Tucker cocked his head toward the console. “I think we can manage that,” he said. When Hoshi offered him a questioning look, he added, “I’ve been a little busy while you were away, Your Majesty. Making a few adjustments here and there in the event we needed something like this.” He reached for the comm panel and activated it. “Computer, this is Commander Tucker. Initiate secondary communications system control at this station location, secured under my voiceprint lockout. Authorization Tucker-Two-One-One-Two, enable.”

  “Working,” answered the Defiant computer’s synthesized voice. “Reroute complete.”

  Offering a wan smile, Tucker regarded the Empress. “It’s all yours, Your Majesty.”

  Damage reports from nearly every deck flooded the comm channels, adding to the already tense atmosphere on the bridge. Listening to the reports detailing damage to Defiant’s defensive systems, Reed gripped the edge of his station as the ship lurched under yet another salvo that hammered its stressed deflector shields.

  “Forward shields are back up!” reported Mayweather from where he now manned the helm. The captain’s face was a mask of concern even as he continued his task of maneuvering the starship farther into the rapidly escalating battle. “I don’t understand what the hell just happened.”

  Leaning forward in the command chair, Admiral Talas turned to Reed. “Notify engineering that defensive systems are first priority. Route power from life support if you have to, but keep those shields up!”

  Reed nodded. The assault by the rebel ships had so far been fast and brutal, with the Defiant’s task force outnumbered nearly three to one as the enemy ships dropped from warp and immediately maneuvered into multiship assault configurations. Though she actually had signaled a retreat at the outset of the skirmish, Talas had just as quickly relented, ordering full power to weapons and shields and giving the order to take the battle to the rebels. Her wavering commitment to a decisive course of action had not gone unnoticed, with Reed and Mayweather exchanging matching looks of concern. Still, there was nothing to be done about that now, as Defiant and her escort ships waded into the fray.

  To his right, Reed saw the ensign at the communications console turn in his chair, his right hand reaching up to grasp the Feinberg receiver he wore in his ear. “Admiral, Dauntless reports the Bismarck has been destroyed.”

  Despite the flurry of noise washing across the bridge, Reed sensed the silence gripping his fellow crew members at the tragic news. As soon as the report was heard, however, he and everyone else knew that they had no time now for mourning; that could come only later, once this current crisis had passed.

  “Tellarite cruiser off the port bow,” he called out as an alert indicator cried for his attention and he bent over the science station’s hooded viewer. “Range forty thousand kilometers and closing. Its shields are failing.” Brave, yet stupid, Reed mused.

  Gripping the arms of her chair, Talas called out, “Target and fire at will.”

  Looking toward the main viewer, Reed saw the image on the screen shift from that of Aldus Prime, the planet rolling and pitching around the edges of the screen as a consequence of the evasive maneuvers conducted by Mayweather. In its place appeared the incoming enemy ship, a squat, bulky construct that did not at all look as though it represented a threat. The overhead lighting flickered as the phaser batteries engaged yet again, and he saw twin beams of blue energy lance across space to strike the un-shielded vessel, carving parallel trenches into its hull as it moved past. An instant later Reed watched as the ship erupted into a ball of energy and flames before dissolving into an expanding cloud of debris. It was followed immediately by a chorus of cheers from around the bridge.

  Be seeing you, the major mused as he returned to his sensor display.

  “Admiral,” the communications officer shouted above the noise. “Receiving an incoming distress call from Akagi!” Without waiting for an order, the ensign moved his hands across his console, silencing the flow of status reports coming from the rest of the ship and directing the new signal to the bridge’s intercom system.

  “…bandoning ship! Warp reactor breach is…”

  The signal exploded into a burst of static that made Reed wince, even as the communications officer fumbled to reduce the volume. That accomplished, he turned back to face Talas. “That’s all there was, Admiral.”

  Keeping his attention focused on his station, Reed gritted his teeth in mounting frustration. Two NX-class ships destroyed in as many minutes? A third of the task force gone within moments of their arrival at Aldus Prime?

  “Continue evasive maneuvers,” Talas ordered, though Reed was sure he heard uncertainty in her voice as she issued the instructions. Her confidence had been shaken by the early losses, he realized, and the admiral now was battling to maintain her bearing amid the rapidly deteriorating situation. How long would it be before her increasing doubt affected her ability to issue commands and see them through the battle?

  As he gripped the sides of his sensor viewer and watched the fight continuing to unfold in the cold, sterile graphics rendered by the Defiant’s tactical sensors, Reed heard the same answer beginning to repeat in his mind.

  Not long at all, I’d imagine.

  14

  A larms echoed throughout the underground complex. The lighting in this section of the outpost had been reduced, casting the tunnel network farther into shadow. Phaser in hand, T’Pol rounded a bend in the passageway and caught sight of figures running from the cavern ahead of her. A full-scale evacuation was under way, and she knew that—assuming everything went according to the plan she had put into motion—only minutes remained until the planet fell victim to orbital bombardment by the Defiant and her task force.

  The rebels had good reason to flee. Alone, the starship was more than capable of laying waste to the entire planet. Her Starfleet escort of five ships would no doubt have received upgrades to their tactical systems thanks to efforts to reverse engineer the Defiant’s advanced technology. As a result, they would be more than prepared to engage the rebel ships currently maneuvering to intercept them.

  Pausing perhaps twenty meters from the entrance leading to what she knew to be the resistance cell’s command center as well as the stage from which Empress Sato’s trial was broadcast, T’Pol used the shadows for cover. She watched as rebels scurried from the chamber, some of them carrying crates or other equipment, taking along anything portable. From the tunnel to her left, she heard the hum of a transporter in operation as personnel and equipment were evacuated to rebel sh
ips waiting in orbit.

  T’Pol cared about none of that. At this moment, she was concerned only with a single objective: T’Pau.

  Mayweather gripped the edge of the helm station’s polished console as Defiant shuddered beneath the brunt of another salvo. All around the bridge, display screens and consoles flickered as power distribution nodes strained under the onslaught of the continued attack. The overhead lighting had already dimmed to a low crimson as emergency power systems came online, and it too blinked in protest of the new assault.

  “Our shields are holding at seventy-three percent,” Reed called out from where he stood at the science station, both hands gripping the console’s hooded sensor viewer. “Some minor buckling in the port nacelle strut.”

  “Bridge to engineering,” Admiral Talas shouted above the klaxons from where she sat at the center of the bridge, her hands gripping the armrests of the command chair in an effort to keep from being thrown to the deck. “Route emergency power to the structural integrity field. Helm, evasive maneuvers. Fire at will!”

  Bristling at the orders that he should be issuing, Mayweather forced himself to focus on his console, his fingers moving across the rows of multicolored buttons before him. He peered into the targeting scanner near his left hand, waiting with mounting impatience as the ship’s weapons struggled to lock onto a target. It seemed to take an eternity before the fire control system finally offered him the telltale tone. A Tellarite ship was in his sights.

  Without hesitation the captain stabbed the firing control and the overhead lighting dimmed again as power was drawn by the vessel’s forward phaser banks. On the main viewscreen, twin blue-white phaser beams lanced across open space and impacted the enemy vessel’s shields, an orange firestorm erupting as conflicting energies collided.

  “Their shields are down,” Reed reported from the science station. “Picking up a hull breach!”

  Not waiting for the order to fire, Mayweather reset the targeting scanner and once more took aim on the now-damaged Tellarite vessel. He tapped the firing control again and when the phaser beams found their mark this time Defiant’s bridge crew was rewarded with the sight of the enemy ship breaking apart, consumed by an explosion that just as quickly was snuffed out by the vacuum of space.

  “Nice shooting, Captain,” Talas offered from behind him. Turning to Reed, she asked, “What about the other ships?”

  Still bent over the sensor viewer, the major did not look up as he replied, “Imperator has engaged an Orion marauder and a Tellarite cruiser. She’s holding her own. Dauntless and Interceptor are circling back over the planet’s north pole, trying to draw fire.” A moment later, he added, “Admiral, two more Orion cruisers are moving in behind us.”

  “Stand by photon torpedoes,” the admiral ordered. “Continue evasive, Mayweather. Get us some breathing room.”

  Even with his attention all but consumed with the task of maneuvering the mighty starship, Mayweather still was able to keep tabs on the sensor telemetry being fed to his station by Reed. Though the ambush had cost them in the opening moments of the battle, the task force had wasted no time regrouping from the loss of Bismarck and Akagi. While the Earth vessels were outnumbered and the Vulcan ships possessed better shielding than their Starfleet counterparts, the Imperator and the remaining two NX-class ships still possessed more powerful weapons thanks to Professor Soong’s upgrade efforts. Even with the Tellarite and Orion cruisers aiding in the battle, no side seemed to be enjoying a decisive advantage.

  Damn Shran, Mayweather thought, feeling his ire rise at the mere thought of the traitorous Andorian. One way or another, the general was to blame for the fleet’s current predicament. The captain did not know the exact nature of Shran’s involvement with the rebels, and he no longer cared. Shran would die; Mayweather would see to that.

  Assuming he and Defiant survived the next few minutes, of course.

  “Imperator is maneuvering into position to commence orbital bombardment, Admiral,” reported the ensign at communications.

  Talas nodded. “Excellent,” she said, though her next words were interrupted by the shrill tone of the ship’s intercom system blaring to life.

  “This is Commander Tucker. By order of Empress Sato, all Andorians are to be taken into custody. Intruder alert protocols are now in effect.”

  “What the hell?” Talas said, the shock evident in her voice. Mayweather saw her rise out of her seat from the corner of his eye and he tensed in anticipation. To his right, he saw the Andorian navigator turn from his console, no doubt seeking guidance from the admiral. Mayweather caught sight of the Andorian’s hand moving for the phase pistol on his belt.

  Pushing himself from his own chair, Mayweather slammed into the navigator, wrapping his arms around the Andorian and driving him from his chair to the deck. He heard the piercing whine of a phase pistol firing in the confined space of the bridge and orange energy rippled in his vision. A console to his left exploded, and Mayweather sensed movement along the upper bridge deck. Then a shadow fell over him and he rolled aside in time to see Reed hurdle over the railing that encircled the command well, launching himself at Talas as the admiral attempted to adjust her aim for a second shot.

  Mayweather kicked away from the navigator, rolling to his feet in an attempt to help Reed. Movement to his right caught his attention, and he looked up to see the Andorian lieutenant at the engineering station rising from her chair and aiming her phase pistol at him. An instant later orange light flooded his vision and a sledgehammer drove into his chest before everything went dark.

  T’Pol heard the whistling sound as she stepped into the rebel command center. She turned toward the noise, aiming her phaser ahead of her but realizing too late that she had walked into a trap.

  The heavy, woven strap sliced through the air, wrapping around her weapon arm. Instinct made T’Pol yank away from the attack, but her assailant was faster. The ahn-woon tightened around her wrist, and T’Pol felt herself pulled off her feet. She crashed to the cave’s unyielding stone floor, her phaser dropping from her hand as she grunted from the force of the impact. Ignoring the pain, T’Pol reached for the ahn-woon with her free hand, grabbing the slackened strap and preventing her attacker from pulling it away to use again. She rolled to her feet, detecting movement in the corner of her eye, and saw T’Pau glowering at her as she gripped the other end of the ahn-woon.

  T’Pau the liar. T’Pau the murderer.

  “You should have fled when you had the chance,” T’Pau said, the strap of the ancient Vulcan weapon wrapped around her right wrist. She reached with her free hand for the disruptor pistol tucked into her wide leather belt.

  Pushing to her left, T’Pol tightened her own grip on the ahnwoon as she struggled to pull her opponent off balance. T’Pau reacted to the maneuver by attempting to set her feet and pulling back the other way.

  “You killed my mother,” T’Pol hissed through gritted teeth, her muscles straining as she held her ground. Dropping to one knee, she grabbed the dagger on her hip and slashed across her body, the gleaming blade slicing through the strap’s heavy material. Momentum sent T’Pau stumbling backward and she fought for balance on the cave’s rocky, uneven floor, which was all the time T’Pol needed to regain her feet and lunge forward, dagger at the ready.

  T’Pau was prepared. Shaking the now-useless ahn-woon free of her wrist, the minister stepped into the knife attack, left arm raised to block T’Pol’s right and arresting its downward swing. The blade of the dagger was halted mere centimeters from T’Pau’s left eye as she shifted her weight and attacked with her free hand. The heel of her hand slammed into T’Pol’s chest, and she groaned in new pain from the brute force of the impact. She lashed out with the edge of her left hand, but T’Pau was faster, blocking the strike and stepping forward to reach for the junction of T’Pol’s neck and shoulder. T’Pol pivoted away, spoiling her opponent’s aim long enough to slash once more with her dagger. This time the blade found a mark, ripping through the sleeve o
f T’Pau’s heavy woven shirt. The minister hissed, yanking her arm back, and T’Pol saw that her knife had drawn blood.

  Not giving her opponent any opportunity to recover, T’Pol lunged again but was forced to alter her attack when T’Pau pulled the disruptor from her belt and fired. The shot was wild but close enough that T’Pol scrambled away, diving between two nearby stacks of cargo containers. Another disruptor bolt pierced the air and she felt the reverberation as the energy pulse chewed into the side of one cargo crate. Using the disorganized stacks of supplies and equipment as cover, T’Pol pushed deeper into the cavern, chased by a steady stream of disruptor fire.

  Then the ground trembled beneath her feet and the piles of supplies shook. A deep rumble echoed through the cave, and dirt showered down from the ceiling.

  The bombardment had begun.

  Emerging from the turbolift with phaser drawn and aimed ahead of her, Hoshi leveled the weapon at Talas as the admiral swiveled around in the command chair. The Andorian’s expression was one of shock as she beheld the bridge’s newest arrival.

  “Your Majesty,” Talas said, moving to rise from the chair.

  “Don’t,” Hoshi cautioned as Sergeant Hayes and Corporal Madden emerged from the lift behind her, both MACOs moving to disarm the other three Andorians manning bridge stations. “Stand down, Admiral. It’s over.”

  Her eyebrows furrowing and her antenna moving to face the Empress, Talas remained seated, ramrod straight in the center seat. “I answer only to General Shran.”

  “Shran’s not here,” Hoshi countered. “Surrender now and you might just survive the day.”

  The order came an instant before Hoshi felt the entire bridge shake around her as Defiant suffered yet another direct hit on its deflector shields. She reached out with her free hand to steady herself against the bulkhead of the turbolift alcove. All around the bridge workstations and overhead lighting wavered in the face of the latest assault.

 

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