by Andy Mangels
Trip wasnt at all sure what that meantlet alone how they had managed it without Ehrehinif the news turned out to be anything other than a hopeful rumor. Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later,he thought. After all, somebody else would have built the first airplane back in the early twentieth century if Orville and Wilbur had decided to throw in the towel early.
The other messages he intercepted soon afterward began to chill him to the depths of his soul. Disciplined-sounding voices familiar to anyone with military training, regardless of language, had begun speaking in clipped, determined phrases of fleet movements. Largefleet movements, which were being discussed only on what Trip had identified as the highest-security channels to which he had access. All of the fleet movements were apparently covert.
And all of them were headed away from Romulan space, proceeding in the general direction of the core Coalition worlds.
Two specific destinations, which he assumed were Romulan place names for Coalition locations, had already recurred frequently enough to draw Trips attention. Isneih, Seichi.He hadnt heard either name before, so he couldnt translate them readily into their English equivalents. But he imagined those places wouldnt be hard to locate using the data files on the Drolaes nav computer. After activating the autopilot, he immediately set about doing just that.
Isneih. A supermassive white star located about nineteen light-years from another marker, which Trip had already designated as Earths solar system.
Trips heart raced as he compared his own mental star map to the one displayed on the nav console. The Calder system,he thought, his spine chilled as though suddenly exposed to a total vacuum. Thats getting a little too close to Andoria and Vulcan for comfort.
With Calder pinned down on the map, it took only another few moments to locate the Romulan fleets other frequently mentioned objective: Seichi.
His stomach abruptly went into freefall. Alpha Centauri. Only a bit more than four light-years from Earth.
A proximity alarm interrupted Trips grim musings, forcing his attention back up to the forward windows. The space in front of them was quickly growing very crowded, and not merely because the Drolaewas fast approaching Romulus.
A flat, horseshoe-crab-shaped Romulan bird-of-prey had just dropped out of warp directly between him and the looming planet. The rapidly approaching vessel was oriented so that the glare of Eisn, the bright yellow sun around which Romulus and Remus orbited, provided garish illumination to its ventral hull, which displayed the bright red plumage of a predatory bird.
Without warning, a disruptor beam lashed out from the warbird, scoring a direct hit that rocked the little scoutship and rang her hull like a colossal clapper striking an outsize cathedral bell. Fortunately, Trips flight harness kept him from being flung from the pilots seat.
He engaged the throttle, and wasnt a bit surprised when the warp drive failed to engage.
Swell. Terix, you sadistic bastard. You really did plan this all along, didnt you?Trip felt physically pinned down, as though hed just been literally caught in the steel jaws of a bear trap.
But he knew that even a trapped animal was anything but helpless. Few creatures were more dangerous than a wounded bear, after all, and Trip understood that he wasnt entirely out of options, trapped or not. He began entering commands into his partially disabled engineering console, beginning by punching up the fuel-containment subsystem.
His com console light flashed, signaling an incoming hail. A harsh male voice came over the speaker. “Scout vesselDrolae. You will heave to and deactivate your weapons. Prepare to be boarded, or vaporized.
Trip shut off the speaker, then extended his left arm toward the forward window in order to make a decidedly un-Romulan hand gesture. Though he seriously doubted that anyone aboard the other vessel could see it, it still felt damned good. Lets see how many of you I can vaporize right along with me,he thought as he returned his attention to the console before him and entered a new string of commands.
A moment later, a small screen before him began displaying the Romulan numerals that denoted the beginning of a final, brief countdown to oblivion.
Next, he began frantically working the com console, trying to open a channel to somebody, anybody,in either Starfleet or the United Earth government. He estimated he had only a few seconds at best before he was blown out of the sky, and he was determined to put his last moments to the best possible use.
Your plan all along was to let mealmost get away with this, wasnt it, Terix? Youwanted me to see what Valdore was about to do to the Coalition planets. Just as long as I couldnt actually do a damned thing about it.
Nothing. No subspace connections. And nothing evidently wrong with the Drolaes transmitter. The receiver, on the other hand, was suddenly awash in an oceanic wave of pure static.
He looked up at the approaching ship. Hes jamming me,he thought, despair at last beginning to zero in on him with all the force of a plummeting asteroid. Looks like Im not getting any warnings out to anybody.
It occurred to him then that he had parted company with his friends back on Taugus without disabusing them of the idea that the Klingon Empire now constituted the gravest threat to peace in the galactic neighborhood. Nowhe knew better. The most serious danger the Coalition now faced emanated from Romulus, rather than the Klingon homeworld. And he was the only one who knew thisand the location of the Romulans targetsto a bedrock certainty, other than the Romulans themselves. And the forward weapons tubes of the approaching bird-of-prey argued eloquently that the Romulan Empire would soon have the exclusive franchise on that knowledge, no matter what might happen to Charles Anthony Tucker III in the next few moments.
At least,Trip thought, until after its way too late for anybody in the Coalition to do anything about it.
THIRTY-SEVEN
Tuesday, July 22, 2155 ColumbiaNX-02, near Alpha Centauri
A DMIRAL G ARDNERS NEW ORDERShad arrived only about six hours after Columbias repairs were completed; alone in her ready room, Captain Erika Hernandez received them with a heavy sense of fatigue. She knew she wasnt the only one who was feeling worn out at the moment, either. Like all of Columbias alpha-shift bridge personnel, Lieutenant Russell Hexter and his beta-watch crew and Lieutenant Charles Zeilfelder and his gamma-shifters had been working far past their standard shifts for the duration of the repair operations. The double-teaming had put quite a strain on just about everyone.
Prior to returning to her command chair on the bridge, Hernandez had put in an order with the galley to prep some caffeinated drinks for the alpha-shift bridge crew. Before Ensign Valerian, the com officer, had managed to take her first sip, however, she received a partially garbled distress call from a line of cargo vessels reporting that they had come under attack in the Alpha Centauri system. Coffee and tea were put aside, forgotten and cold, as Columbias bridge crew shifted immediately into rescue mode.
“Any ID yet on the attackers, Sidra? Hernandez said, turning her command chair toward the communications console. She hoped that another batch of Romulan-commandeered Klingon vessels wouldnt prove to be the culprits here; that might push a touchy Coalition Council right over the brink of launching a misbegotten war against the Klingon Empire. Give me plain vanilla, garden-variety pirates anyday,she thought.
“Still no luck on that, Captain, said Ensign Valerian. “And all Im getting right now is static. Maybe the attackers are jamming the cargo ships at the source.
If they havent destroyed them outright already,Hernandez thought, immediately kicking herself for her pessimism.
Facing front and leaning forward toward the helm, she said, “Whats our ETA at Alpha Centauri? She knew she probably sounded like a child asking “Are we there yet? But given her current lack of sleep, as well as her preoccupation with Jonathan Archers long-shot attempt to avert a seemingly inevitable war with the Klingons and/or the Romulans, she regarded it as a minor miracle that she sounded even halfway coherent.
Lieutenant Akagi turned from her station, a slight smile o
n her lips. “Just a hair under twenty minutes, Captain. Five minutes less than the last time you asked. Would you like me to put a counter on the screen, sir? she teased, her almond-shaped eyes crinkling at the edges.
Hernandez gave her a mock scolding look. “No, that wont be necessary. Ill try to restrain my enthusiasm until we get there. She looked over to the front left of the bridge, where Valerians hands were a blur at her communications console, while her face showed unhappy concentration.
“Any luck restoring communications with the convoy, Sidra? Hernandez asked.
Valerian shook her head. “No, Captain. Im picking up snatches and pieces of subspace messages, but nothing I can lock onto for any length of time. The signals are all tremendously fragmented. Its as if the main ship transceivers are either jammed or destroyed, and the message fragments Im receiving are being transmitted by private, low-power communication devices carried by shipboard personnel. Most of them appear to be personal messages. Theyre trying to say their good-byes.
The thought made Hernandez shiver. If their communications are being jammed, could this be another Romulan stunt?She imagined the cargo vessel crews all trying to defend their ships, even as they used whatever small com devices were on hand to send farewell messages to their loved ones. If thats the case, then we may already be too late to help anybody.
She toggled the communicator on her command chairs arm. “Karl, see if you can pump a bit more power into the engines. Even shaving off a minute or two of travel time might make all the difference.
“Ill see what I can do, Captain, but were gonna bust our new stitches if you push my littleLiebchens very much harder,Lieutenant Graylock replied, clearly concerned about undoing the just-completed repairs to Columbias nacelles and the other recent war wounds she had sustained.
“All I ask is that you try,Karl, Hernandez said before signing off.
“Coming up on fifteen minutes, Akagi said from her station half an eternity later.
“Do we have long-range visuals yet? Hernandez asked.
At the tactical station, Lieutenant Kiona Thayer shook her head, her long braided hair undulating across her back with the movement. “Not yet, Captain. Even if we did, whatever we saw would already be old news because of the relativistic light-lag. On the bright side, our sensors arent currently picking up any subspace signatures consistent with weapons fire. Which could be a good thing.
“Or it could mean that the battles already been lost, Hernandez said, feeling glum.
“Well, arent youa bag of oranges and morning sunshine? Commander Veronica Fletcher said in her lilting New Zealand accent as she exited the turbolift and strode purposefully to her traditional spot at the engineering console to Hernandezs right.
“Only if theyre fully pulped oranges, Hernandez said tartly in response. Her answer made her think of poor Jonathan Archer, who really lookedlike a bag of pulped fruit after his fight on QonoS. She was glad she hadnt been on Enterprisewhen Archer had returned, or she would have had to battle the temptation to take care of him. He alwayshas had that effect on me,she thought, even though she never doubted for a moment that her instinct to protect Columbiaand her crew would have overruled the impulse. Of course, she couldnt deny that shed found the current hotheaded, secretive version of Jon Archer far less attractive than the man she once might have married. So much about the man had changed over the past few years. Particularly since the death of Trip Tucker.
Hernandez got a status update from Chief Engineer Graylock on several belowdecks repairs and retrofits that had just been completed, including some system redundancies that could act as extra computer firewalls that had been put into place after Archers warning about the new weapon the Romulans were using.
A hand signal from Akagi told Hernandez that only a few minutes remained before Columbiawas due to drop out of warp in the outer Alpha Centauri system.
“All right, everyone, were on tactical alert, Hernandez said. Once the bridge illumination had dimmed to combat levels, she continued: “We already know that the cargo fleet is under attack, so I want us coming in locked and loaded for bear. I know youve all been briefed already, but let me remind you that the hostile we are about to encounter may be eitherKlingon or Romulan ships. Either way, were going to target their weapons and propulsion wherever possible. I want to capture one of these bastards, if the opportunity arises. If it doesnt, well do whatever we have to do. She looked toward Fletcher, nodding slightly at her executive officer.
“If we end up facing Klingon battle cruisers, keep in mind that their crews may not be in control of their own helms and weapons, Fletcher said, effortlessly picking up where Hernandez had left off. “And if they arent really the ones running their own control panels, then its likely that they wont return our hails. If the hostile vessels really are being controlled remotely, then their tactical maneuvers might be a bit more sluggish than you might expect. But dont bet the farm on that in the absence of hard information. Until we actually engage the aggressors, I want every sensor focused on telling us whether or not the hostile vessels crews are actively piloting their ships, or if they might just be along for the ride, so to speak.
“Two minutes, Captain, Akagi said.
“Arm phase cannons. Load and arm torpedoes, Hernandez said, settling back firmly into her chair. “The moment we exit warp, charge the hull plating. Ensign Valerian, open a broad-band hailing channel as soon as we go sublight.
“Major Foyle reports that his full MACO complement is standing by if we need them, Fletcher said. “Theyre also deployed near all emergency containment areas, and ready with pressure suits, just in case.
“Thank you, Hernandez said. “Helm, take us out of warp as close as you can to the line of scrimmage. We want the element of surprise on our side.
The deck plates shuddered beneath Hernandezs boots, and Columbias entire spaceframe groaned in a familiar yet still disconcerting manner. The main viewscreen at the front of the bridge showed the distorted streaks of the stars aligned with the ships flightline compressing to almost dimensionless pinpoints as Columbiaabruptly decelerated to subluminal speeds.
Squaring her shoulders and setting her jaw, Hernandez looked directly toward the screens center, knowing the viewer would pick her image up in the same manner as any other audio/visual hail. “This is Captain Erika Hernandez of the United Earth Starship Columbia. We are responding to acts of aggression against cargo vessels under the protection of the Coalition of Planets. All aggressor vessels must stand down and submit to boarding. Any resistance will be considered an act of aggression, and will be met with deadly force. Hostile vessels, this is the onlywarning you will receive.
Out of the corner of her eye, Hernandez saw Lieutenant Commander el-Rashad turn toward her from his science station, a gobsmacked expression on his chiseled, mocha-colored features.
The reason for his reaction appeared on the main viewscreen a moment later. The visual sensors displayed what lay in Columbias path. The aggressor vessels and the cargo fleet they menaced came into sharp focus, and it was immediately clear that the attackers were of neither Klingon nor Romulan design. Nor was their identity a mystery; the attackers long, blunt-nosed central hulls, with each of their aft sections surrounded by a single wide, ring-shaped warp-propulsion module, were all too familiar to everyone present.
“ Vulcans?Why would Hernandez said under her breath, scarcely able to contain her incredulity.
“Captain, sensors confirm the presence of two DKyr-type Vulcan combat cruisers, Thayer said from her tactical station. “Particle-beam residue readings show that they arethe aggressors here. Should I hold fire?
Hernandez stood, raising her hand to signal restraint. “Yes. Hold fire. What the hellare they doing? Her mind galloped to find an explanation, but the longer she stared at the image, the more insane it seemed.
“Theyre not responding to hails, Captain, Valerian said.
Hernandez continued staring at the vista on the screen, trying to drink in every detail. The bele
aguered convoy consisted of five cargo vessels, many of them already severely damaged. One seemed completely beyond salvaging, as plasma fires burned on what little remained of its outer hull, apparently fed by atmosphere that continued to escape from interior compartments. The cargo vessels almost seemed to cower in the presence of the Vulcan ships that appeared to have instigated the entire situation.
“One of the ships is charging up its weapons again! Thayer shouted. On the viewer, Hernandez watched as the forward particle-beam tube on the ship nearest to Columbiabegan to emit a baleful emerald glow.
“Charge hull plating to full! Hernandez shouted.
“Their weapons lock isnt focused on us,Captain, Fletcher said.
A moment later, a brilliant green beam shot forth from the underbelly of the Vulcan cruiser, lancing into the hull of one of the more heavily damaged cargo ships. Almost immediately, the wounded vessel exploded, sending an expanding cloud of metal debris and ignited gases into space. The effect reminded Hernandez of a Fourth of July fireworks display shed seen as a child, though her mood at the moment was anything but celebratory.
“Have they responded to our hails yet?
“No, sir, Valerian said.
“Try to disable the lead vessel, Hernandez ordered, hoping that she hadnt just made the mistake of her career.
“The second ship is charging weapons and targeting us,Thayer shouted before shed managed to fire her first shot.
“Evasive maneuvers! Hernandez returned to her chair, strapping herself in place as her crew got to work.
As Columbialurched and vibrated in response to Hernandezs demands, the captain studied the viewscreen, which showed several of Thayers phase cannon blasts making contact with one of the DKyr-type cruisers. The concentrated energy bursts seemed to warm the greenish hull up a bit, while a photonic torpedo exploded against the cruisers underbelly without doing any apparent harm.