Текст книги "Taking Wing "

Автор книги: Andy Mangels

Соавторы: Michael Martin
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Текущая страница: 17 (всего у книги 21 страниц)

“I’m finally getting a response from the Remans, Captain,” Keru said, sounding both excited and apprehensive. “The transmission appears to be coming from the lead vessel.”

“On screen, please,” Riker said, putting on his best poker face.

The hard visage of a Reman warrior appeared on the screen. Though the illumination in the Reman-occupied warship was dim, Riker could see that the other man’s skin was as pale as the snows of Mount Denali.

The Reman’s voice sounded like a slow rockslide, and was as deep and cold as an Alaskan glacier. “Federation vessel. Do not attempt to interfere with us. You will not be warned again.”

“This is Captain William Riker of the Federation starship Titan.Please identify yourself.”

When he spoke, the Reman’s lips parted, displaying a proliferation of sharp, serrated teeth. “I am Xiomek, colonel of the Kepeszuk Battalion and commander of all the Reman Irregulars. I speak now as the voice of the Reman people.”

That’s pretty convenient for me, if it’s true,Riker thought, recalling Spock and Tuvok having mentioned Colonel Xiomek during their brief walk from the transporter room to the ready room. Spock had explained that Reman military and civilian leaders were really one and the same, and that they had a fairly quick turnover because of their refusal to conduct warfare from the rear. Spock had explained his belief that Xiomek wielded serious influence over his people, and Riker was therefore inclined to believe it—especially now that Xiomek had shown himself to be in charge of what was probably every piece of ordnance the Remans had at their disposal.

“And I speak on behalf of the United Federation of Planets,” Riker said. “I am here on an errand of peace. Please break off your attack.”

Xiomek tipped his head in apparent confusion. “We have made no attack as yet, Riker. And whether or not such an attack occurs is entirely up to the Romulan praetor, to whom we have just issued our demand.”

Riker pondered the fact that Xiomek had not, in fact, began firing on any targets on the ground, at least not yet. It must mean he hasn’t gotten wind of that first diplomatic meeting that Tal’Aura kept him out of,he thought. At least, not yet.

Aloud, he said, “And what is it you’ve demanded, Colonel?”

“We want Ehrie’fvil.”

“Come again?” Riker glanced quickly at Deanna and Christine, both of whom shrugged.

Then Riker saw Xiomek and Spock nod silently to one another by way of greeting. Deanna glanced significantly at Riker, as if to confirm the two men’s already apparent mutual respect.

Spock turned to face Riker. “Ehrie’fvil is the name of a small, all but uninhabited continent located in Romulus’s southern hemisphere,” he said with the quiet confidence of an academic authority. “It is roughly the same size as Earth’s Greenland, and possesses similar climatological characteristics.”

Facing the Vulcan ambassador, Riker said, “He’s asking for a whole continent?”

“This isn’t the first time the matter has come up. Neither crops nor animals can flourish in the harsh, dry, tide-locked climate of Remus. This has made the Remans dependent upon those who have enslaved them for centuries. It is no surprise that such an unbalanced relationship would give the people of Remus cause to covet the abundance of their planet’s companion world. However, the Remans have never before attempted to seize Romulan lands using the direct threat of military force.”

“We have been confined to Remus, and to the darkness of the dilithium mines, for as far back as our history records,”Xiomek said. “There we have provided all the toil necessary to power the fleets of the Empire. No more. No more will we be forced to dwell in lands blighted by the Empire’s insatiable greed.”

Facing Xiomek again, Riker said, “You are in a position to do a great deal more than seize land, Colonel. How do we know your people won’t also exact revenge against the Romulan people you’ve been laboring for all these centuries?”

Xiomek bared his fangs again in what might or might not have been a smile. “You donot know that, for I can make no such guarantee. But you have no choice other than to accept my words at face value. As well as my assurance that this man”—the Reman colonel pointed a long-nailed, gnarled finger directly at Ambassador Spock– “has already made every effort to dissuade us from engaging in unnecessary bloodshed.

“I, however, will decide how much bloodshedis necessary, Captain—based upon whether or not you or anyone else attempts to stop us from claiming the land and water and air that should have been ours long ago.”

In response to a glance from Deanna, Riker gestured to Keru, who momentarily interrupted the audio portion of his exchange with Xiomek. The Reman colonel continued to glower silently at the bridge crew from the main viewscreen.

“I sense that Xiomek is being sincere, Captain,” Deanna said.

“And I can confirm that about half the Reman ships are headed directly for Ehrie’fvil,” said Keru. “The rest of them are leveling out their descent.”

“Heading?” asked Vale.

“They’re remaining in the upper atmosphere, and appear to be heading for positions over major cities all around the planet.”

“So they’re daring us to follow them down there for close-quarters combat,” Riker said.

“Or warning us not to,” Deanna said.

“We’re not built for that, Captain,” said Vale, looking slightly worried.

Riker nodded. Like most starships, Titanhad not been designed for flight within a planetary atmosphere, let alone for atmospheric combat.

“And there’s no way we can engage the Remans without inflicting a lot of harm on the innocent civilians down below,” Deanna added.

Vale sighed. “We just have to hope that there are enough cloaked Romulan ships nearby to encourage Xiomek’s fleet to back off quickly.”

Riker looked toward Jaza, who was shaking his head. “I’m afraid there’s no way to know for sure, Captain. Our enhanced sensor nets notwithstanding.”

Riker gave another hand signal to Keru, who reactivated the viewer’s audio pickup. “What are your terms?” he asked the Reman. He hated feeling so helpless, but he knew he had little choice.

“If we encounter resistance, we shall bombard the cities of Romulus. And I promise that Ki Baratan, the praetor’s pride, will be one of our prime targets in that event.”

Spock stepped forward. “But you willencounter resistance, Xiomek. Surely you must realize that. This is Romulus. And the people you seek to intimidate are Romulans.”

As if cued by the ambassador, Jaza spoke up, an edge of real fear audible in his usually serene voice. “Captain, four D’deridex-class warbirds and three more Mogai-class vessels are decloaking over the northern continent. They’re charging weapons and closing with the Reman-crewed vessels located nearest to Ki Baratan.”

Lovely,Riker thought, struggling to keep his shoulders from sagging under the oppressive weight of near-despair. We haven’t even had our first full peace conference yet, and we’re already spiraling down into all-out war.

But he saw that Xiomek had lapsed into what Riker thought—or at least fervently hoped—was a thoughtful silence. The colonel had obviously heard Jaza’s report, and the Reman’s own bridge crew had no doubt informed him, perhaps telepathically, of the new tactical situation.

“Wewill engage the Romulans, Ambassador, if our former masters force our hand,”Xiomek said, his dark, hooded eyes now fixed squarely upon Spock. “But we will agree to delay our bombardment of their cities for fourveraku —provided no one attacksus . The praetor and the Romulan military have that long to cede Ehrie’fvil to us completely, or else Romulan blood will flow like the waters of the Apnex Sea.”

Along with how much of your own people’s blood, Xiomek?Riker thought ruefully before fixing Spock with a questioning glance.

“Four verakuis approximately four point one eight of your hours, Captain,” Spock said in response to Riker’s unspoken question.

“You must excuse me, Captain,”Xiomek said, his fangs actually seeming to lengthen as he spoke. “It appears that I am about to become rather busy.”And with that, his chalk-white image disappeared from the central portion of the screen, which switched to a broad view of the graceful curve of Romulus’s night side, whose surface was illuminated by the lights of scores of cities and towns. Riker had no doubt that lightninglike traceries of disruptor beams and torpedo detonations would soon overwhelm those distant hearth fires, abruptly turning much of the planet’s night side into day.

“A single Mogai-class warbird has just moved to intercept Xiomek’s attack wing in the upper atmosphere,” Keru reported, studying his tactical console. He looked up at Riker. “It’s the Valdore,Captain.”

“Donatra’s ship,” Riker said, noting on the tactical display that this particular impending battle was the one that lay closest to Titan’s current flight path. Why haven’t the Romulans scrambled more defenses?he wondered, noting that the planet’s orbiting defense platforms remained oddly silent. Had the Remans somehow sabotaged them, or had the rapid descent of their warships into the upper atmosphere rendered them useless?

“The Valdoreis already effectively surrounded by six Amarcan-class warships,” Keru said, nodding. “They’re smaller and not as well armed as the Valdore,but…” He trailed off.

But they outnumber her,Riker thought, completing Keru’s analysis.

“At least the Klingons are behaving themselves,” Ensign Lavena said as she fed some minor course adjustments into the conn station.

For the time being,Riker thought, hoping Khegh would be content to enjoy the shedding of Romulan blood vicariously. But if things begin to go seriously against the Reman attack force, can we count on the Klingons to stay on the sidelines?

“True enough, Ensign,” Deanna said. “And we can also be thankful that Xiomek hasn’t obliterated any Romulan cities yet.”

Standing anxiously near her seat, Vale raised both hands, displaying crossed fingers. “Let’s hope whatever defenses the Romulans can scramble keep his fleet too busy to try. In the meantime, we have to make a decision: Do we help the Romulans?”

Seated beside Riker, Deanna was silently asking him the very same question. Riker could feel Akaar’s gaze boring into his back. He studiously ignored it.

“No,” he said, squaring his shoulders and addressing everyone on the bridge. “We came here to broker a peace arrangement. Not to take sides in a civil war.” No one argued with him. Turning his head, Riker saw that Akaar and Tuvok were standing by quietly, evidently no better able to see a way out of this developing catastrophe than he was. Spock, however, was quietly scowling at him, as though convinced he could have averted this confrontation if not for Titan’s interference.

If not formy interference,Riker thought, beginning to wonder if the ambassador might not be right. But he took heart from the fact that Spock was no longer insisting that he be sent back to Xiomek now that the battle had been joined. Even the ambassador seemed to acknowledge that the solution to the current mess now had to come from one man: Captain William T. Riker.

Riker saw then that Vale was once again staring at the blank spot on the aft bulkhead. This time she was pointing toward it as well.

“I told you it was bad luck to leave Utopia Planitia without a dedication plaque,” she said, speaking quietly enough so that he doubted anyone else had heard her.

His brow furrowed involuntarily. “No, you didn’t.”

“Okay,” she whispered after a beat. “Then I should have.”

Except for the red-alert klaxons, silence reigned on the bridge. Every eye was on the viewscreen, where hell had begun to erupt in the skies over Ki Baratan. Riker was thankful, at least, that the convoy’s three aid ships had managed to get themselves out of harm’s way, at least for the moment.

“Incoming!” shouted Keru.

The bridge lights flickered as Titanshuddered from a sharp, forceful impact.

Commander Donatra’s bridge shook violently. Sparks and flame flashed across the oval-shaped chamber as yet another salvo of disruptor fire pummeled the Valdore.Ozone and smoke stung her nostrils as electrical fires tested the battered warbird’s fire-suppression system to its limits. Her right side ached as old wounds flared back to livid, angry life.

“Forward shields are failing, Commander,” cried Centurion T’Relek from the primary tactical station. Two decurions and an antecenturion were sprawled nearby on the deck, dead or dying.

Despite that, Donatra remained encouraged. They’re still merely trying to coerce us into backing off,she thought. They haven’t strafed the cities yet.

“Return fire, all tubes!” The bridge rumbled again from yet another direct hit. With shaking hands, the centurion launched another fusillade.

Donatra spun her chair toward the stoic young female decurion who was operating the communications console. “Have our reinforcements responded yet?”

The decurion shook her head gravely. “The Remans must be jamming us locally, Commander. I can’t even tell if our initial message got through to offworld elements of the fleet. Local units seem to be rallying, however.”

Donatra silently prayed that this would suffice to drive the Remans off, or at least dissuade them from trying to transform Ki Baratan into a charred crater.

Just before the Valdore’s recent communications difficulties began, Donatra had managed to intercept a fascinating subspace exchange between Xiomek and Captain Riker. She knew of the outrageous demand Xiomek had just made, as well as his threat to immolate the Romulan capital, as well as other cities, within four verakushould the Empire fail to accede. She had heard his threat to attack immediately should his own forces be assailed. She wondered if she could afford to take the colonel at his word.

It shouldn’t have made any difference either way. She was a Romulan military officer, and her world was in peril. Though she was badly outnumbered, she knew she should engage the enemy now. She wanted nothing more than to put a decisive end to the Reman threat, even if that meant risking everyone under her command, and courting the abrupt destruction of most of Ki Baratan.

But if there is to be any chance of our reinforcements arriving in time to overwhelm thesewortu ,Donatra thought, then I may have no choice but to find another way.

“Withdraw!” she shouted, despising herself. “Get our attack wing clear of jamming range as quickly as possible. We have to raise the reinforcement fleet immediately.”

The Valdoreshuddered in protest for several moments after the flight controller executed her commands. Donatra breathed a silent prayer of thanks to the Gate-keeper of Erebus when the singularity drive finally engaged. The ozone-tainted air gradually cleared, though the atmospheric recirculators whined in protest.

“Damage procedures, all decks!” she shouted into the ship-wide comm channel, then settled heavily back into her scorched command chair. There had been neither the time nor the opportunity to repair the Valdoreproperly after the severe punishment the warbird had received from the Scimitar,Shinzon’s flagship. Though Colonel Xiomek’s weapons were far less potent than Shinzon’s, they might very well have reopened some of Valdore’s recent war wounds.

Donatra watched the gently curved main viewer, which showed a crescent-shaped Romulus falling rapidly away into the infinite night. No pursuit was in evidence.

Donatra was both relieved and heartsick. Does this mean that Xiomek is too preoccupied with carrying out his threat to destroy Romulus to go after me?

She forced such thoughts from her mind. There was very important work to be done, and she needed to focus all her attention on it.

“Resume trying to raise our reinforcements,” Donatra ordered, after dispatching the remaining three ships of her attack wing to a high polar orbit over Romulus. The Valdorewas now on a different course, heading un-escorted back toward the Great Bloom, the last known position of the reinforcement fleet that Donatra had left in Suran’s care.

“Immediately, Commander,” said the decurion at the communications post.

Once again, the Valdorereceived no response. Everyone on the bridge listened intently to the static-laced silence, which seemed to last for at least half a verak.

Then, abruptly: “Commander!” The tactical officer began pointing animatedly at the central viewer, where another vessel was decloaking.

“Alert status!” Donatra said, rising. The old burns on her leg and torso rudely reminded her of their presence yet again.

A split second later, she recognized Suran’s flagship as it became visible in the empty space before the Valdore.

“Helm, match our velocities. Hail them.”

Relief warred with apprehension within Donatra’s breast. Her old wounds were now itching so fiercely they almost seemed to burn. Where is the rest of the fleet?

Suran’s face appeared on the main viewer. He looked haunted, his sunken eyes resembling frightened animals engaged in a desperate search for some means of escape.

“Suran. What is the status of our reinforcements?”

He stared at her in silence, his face contorting into an angry, accusatory expression. “You should have listened to me, Donatra, when I warned you not to entrust our fleet to the Great Bloom.”

Donatra felt her patience with her emotionally volatile colleague beginning to wane. When she spoke, her voice sounded brittle in her own ears. “Suran. Where. Are. Our. Ships?”

“They’regone , Donatra. As though they had never been.”

She sank backward into her chair as though she had just been slapped. Her heart turned to ice.

Akhh! I have signed my people’s death warrant!

Chapter Twenty-one

U.S.S. TITAN

Riker was both grateful and annoyed that the new command seats came equipped with automatic safety harnesses. Triggered into operation by Titan’s momentarily overloaded inertial damping system, the automatic restraints had deployed quickly enough to prevent the violent impact of the first attacker’s barrage from throwing him to the deck. But he was not in the habit of allowing himself to be pinned down, especially in the middle of a combat situation.

“Report!” he shouted as he reached for the manual release control, located on the left arm of his chair.

“Shields holding at seventy percent,” Keru said from his post at the aft end of the bridge. “Phasers are armed and ready.”

Riker knew that under normal circumstances, returning fire would be one of his prime options. But this situation was anything but normal. Old and new Romulan ships—vessels crewed by opposing Remans and Romulans—were moving quickly to engage one another in the night skies over Romulus. It was difficult to tell the two sides apart, let alone determine with certainty which side had attacked Titan.

“Any idea who hit us?” he asked.

“It’s not immediately clear,” Jaza said, his hands playing over his console. “Both the Romulan and Reman ships are firing at each other. I’m not certain that salvo was even meant for us.”

Riker looked to the forward viewscreen, where he saw what must have been several dozen ships engaged in aggression. Angry red disruptor beams ionized the night sky, briefly seeming to entangle one vessel with another in a lethal cat’s cradle. “Give us some distance,” he said. “Maybe we took fire because we’re too close.”

As Lieutenant Rager and Ensign Lavena entered course corrections into their respective conn and ops consoles, Riker turned to Vale, who was seated at his right. “Tell the Phoebus, T’rin’saz,and the Der Sonnenaufgangto withdraw from disruptor range.”

“Yes, sir,” Vale said, tapping commands into her armrest console. The Starfleet aid ships had already moved to a one-thousand-kilometer orbit over Romulus, but that still wouldn’t necessarily keep them entirely out of harm’s way if the gunners on either side of the Romulan-Reman conflict decided to target the convoy deliberately.

Riker started to turn toward Tuvok, Spock, and Akaar, intending to ask the admiral to escort both Vulcans down to sickbay, when another blast rocked the ship. A spray of sparks arced out of a conduit above the upper corner of the main viewscreen, which blacked out a moment later. Riker stumbled to one side, thrown against a railing as Titan’s inertial dampers kicked in, righting the deck.

“Get that screen back on line,” Riker ordered, swallowing a curse. “In the meantime, activate every other available monitor so we can see what’s happening out there.”

As he moved to the aft end of the bridge, several monitors had already taken up the forward viewscreen’s slack.

“Shields down to forty-eight percent, Captain,” Keru said. Riker could hear the timbre of concern in his voice.

“The Klingons are moving in toward us, but they’re not firing at the Romulans,” Jaza said. “They appear to be taking up defensive positions between Titanand the skirmish line.”

“Circling the wagons,” Riker heard Deanna say while he studied one of the tactical displays and considered his options.

He spared a quick glance toward Akaar, Tuvok, and Spock. The expressions on all three faces were inscrutable, but Riker knew they were probably contemplating the same question he was; how to defend the ship without actually engaging in—or escalating—the developing battle. If the Klingons are holding back,Riker thought, then Khegh must have decided that the Romulans have him overmatched, and that today isn’t such a good day to die.

The turbolift doors opened, and a pair of engineers stepped onto the bridge, carrying their tools on a small hovering platform. Riker barely spared them a glance.

“Mr. Keru, can you target just the weapons on those ships?” Riker asked. If Titancould force both sides to stop firing at each other for at least a while, then some other more permanent solution might present itself.

“Hard to say, Captain,” Keru said, frowning at his monitors. “We’ve taken some damage. But I think I can get a lock on the weapons of some of those older ships the Remans are using.”

“Lieutenant Rager, get me Khegh,” Riker said. A moment later, the scowling visage of the burly Klingon general appeared on one of the monitors.

“A touchy situation, is it not, Captain Riker?”Khegh said, baring his yellow teeth in a fierce smile.

“General, we need to stop the hostilities,” Riker said. “Do you have any influence over the Remans?”

Khegh’s smile disappeared. “They seem to have chosen their course, Captain. I doubt we could dissuade them.”He assayed a guileless expression, but failed miserably. “And truthfully, why should we want to?”

“We are prepared to target only the weapons systems of the Reman ships,” Riker said, feeling a trickle of cold sweat begin to run down the back of his neck. “Can you engage the Romulans, withoutdestroying their ships?”

“Where is the fun in that?”Khegh asked, grinning again. He turned and barked an order in Klingon, addressing his crew. “Besides, I thought you wanted to keep us from fighting these treacherous RomulanpetaQ .”

“Believe me, asking you to fire on Romulan ships isn’t my first choice,” Riker said. “But we need to stop this war before it gets completely out of hand.”

He wasn’t surprised when Khegh signed off without acknowledging him.

“The Klingons are breaking away from us,” Vale said, looking up from her console. “Our shields are still at less than half-strength, Captain. Staying out of harm’s way would be as good an idea for us as for our convoy ships.”

Riker slapped the combadge on his chest. “Riker to engineering. We need to get our shields back to full power, Ledrah. Now.”

“We’re already working on it, sir,”the chief engineer’s calm voice replied.

Riker strode back down toward his chair, aware that the eyes of his wife had been on him for the last several minutes. He could feel her calming influence, even though she wasn’t speaking aloud.

He turned toward Keru. “Mr. Keru, you may fire when ready, but I do notwant any of those ships destroyed. Just make sure they can’t take any more potshots at anyone else.”

“Yes, sir,” Keru said.

Tuvok stepped toward the captain’s chair. “Captain Riker, if you require additional help, I was the tactical officer aboard Voyagerfor seven years. I can assist Mr. Keru if you have a targeting console to spare.”

Riker nodded curtly. “Glad to have your help, Commander. Two good marksmen are better than one.” He turned to see the forward viewscreen flicker to life for a moment, then wink out again. In that instant, Riker caught a glimpse of one of Khegh’s Klingon battle cruisers swooping in toward one of the newer Romulan warbirds, while a phaser burst from Titanlanced out toward an older, Reman-crewed ship.

“Sorry, sir,” the engineer said, holding up a pointed spanner. “We’ll have it back up in just a moment.”

Riker noted that the pair working on the viewscreen were the Polynesian twin ensigns. He could never tell them apart, so he was glad in this instance that he could just use their mutual surname. “As quickly as you can, Ensign Rossini.”

“I’ve tried hailing Praetor Tal’Aura, but our signal apparently isn’t getting through,” Deanna said, looking up from the console she had snapped down from the side of her chair. Her dark eyes grew wider, and he felt her speaking directly into his mind.

This is not your fault, Will. I’m not even sure that Ambassador Spock could have prevented this, regardless of what he believes. He might only have delayed the Reman attack.

Small comfort,Imzadi ,he thought in response. It feels as if we’re trying to keep a boat from sinking with a bucket brigade.

She frowned slightly at his boat reference, and he was certain she was remembering their honeymoon. Suddenly, an urgent voice pulled his full attention back to the crisis at hand.

“Captain, one of the Remans is closing on our port bow! Collision course!” Rager’s voice was high-pitched, though not panicked.

“Evasive maneuvers!” Riker roared.

The viewscreen flickered back on just in time to display an obsolete D-7 cruiser barreling toward Titan,filling almost the entire image area.

Then the incoming vessel appeared to pull away. Riker felt intense relief.

Until the other ship was hit by some other vessel’s disruptor fusillade, breaking her hull into burning, atmosphere-venting fragments that careened in every direction.

One rather large, jagged piece was headed straight for Titan’s new evasive heading.

“All decks, brace for impact!” he shouted into his combadge. He saw Lavena and Rager frantically entering commands, but he knew that even their considerable skills wouldn’t be enough.

A cacophonous sound rent the air, and Riker felt himself thrown violently backward. The lighting dimmed to near-darkness, lit only by a shower of sparks. Amid the blare of klaxons and the tortured moans of strained structural integrity fields, Riker heard a scream, and a wet sound. Then he crashed against something hard, a flare of pain igniting within his left shoulder.

A few seconds ticked past before the bridge’s emergency lights kicked on, bathing the scene in an eerie orange glow. Will struggled to sit, aware that he had landed near his command chair, his back up against the upperlevel support frame for the bridge’s raised aft work stations. He heard Deanna moan, and saw her sit up from where she was slumped over her chair’s armrest, held in place by the autorestraints.

Riker placed his hand against the deck, feeling something wet and warm there as he turned toward Vale’s chair. He saw that she was sitting in it, held in place by her harness; she looked dazed, though not obviously harmed. An errant thought flickered through his mind: Clearly the lesson here is to stay in my chair.

As Riker struggled to his feet, he heard the other members of the bridge crew moaning and moving around him. He stooped near the conn, where Ensign Lavena lay after evidently having opened her restraints; her suit had sprung a leak, and its fluids were rapidly spilling onto the deck. Riker realized that this was the source of the moisture he had felt on the deck, and was thankful that it wasn’t anyone’s blood.

“Everybody, sound off,” he said, turning. In quick succession—though accompanied by many moans and groans—Lavena, Rager, Jaza, Deanna, Vale, Akaar, Tuvok, the Rossini twins, and three other members of the bridge crew called out their names.

Which left only Keru.

Riker turned to see Tuvok kneeling beside one of the aft consoles. “Captain, your tactical officer is badly injured.”

Riker tapped his badge, as Deanna and Christine rushed to the upper level. “Riker to sickbay. Prepare for incoming wounded.” He sighed, and turned to Jaza as the science officer moved back toward his station. “Status report.”

The Bajoran ran a shaky finger across his console’s monitor, following as he read. “Titanwas turning when she was struck. We were lucky. We appear to have sustained only minor hull damage. There’s a small breach on deck five, and emergency forcefields are already in place. But our shields were overloaded by the impact.”

“How badly?”

“They’re down to thirty percent, Captain. Sir, we can’ttake another hit like that.”

“Will.” Deanna was calling him from the upper part of the bridge, aloud this time.

“Contact Khegh, Rager. We’re going to need the Klingons protecting our flanks.”

“Will!”Deanna’s voice had become more insistent. He moved in behind her, steadying himself against a console as he looked down.

Ranul Keru lay in a crumpled heap, contusions about his face from the console circuitry into which he had crashed. But of far, far more serious concern was the spanner that protruded from his chest. Deep red blood oozed out around what he recognized as one of Ensign Rossini’s tools.

Then he noticed that the large Trill was not breathing, either.

Simultaneous to this observation, Vale tapped her combadge. “Vale to transporter room four! Beam Commander Keru directly to sickbay. Sickbay, prepare a trauma team. We’re beaming Mr. Keru directly to you. He’s critically injured.”

As the shimmering curtain of energy surrounded and dissolved Keru, Deanna stood. Riker saw that her eyes were wet. “I could barely feel him, Will. I don’t know if he’s going to make it.”