Текст книги "Open Secrets "

Автор книги: Dayton Ward

Соавторы: Kevin Dilmore
сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 19 (всего у книги 32 страниц)

36

“I am Commander Restrene. You are trespassing in a territorial annex of the Tholian Assembly. You must leave this area immediately.”

Rising from his seat at the center of the Lovell’s bridge, Captain Daniel Okagawa regarded the visage of the Tholian commander now displayed on the main viewer. The Tholian appeared as a bright crimson silhouette standing out against a roiling amber background, the air around it shimmering as a result of the extreme temperature requirements necessary to sustain Tholian physiology.

“Shields activated, weapons armed and ready, Captain,” reported Lieutenant Jessica Diamond, the Lovell’s weapons officer, from one of the rear bridge stations. “Though I have to tell you, Captain, I think we may be a bit outclassed here.”

“Don’t remind me,” Okagawa said before gesturing toward Folanir Pzial, the Rigelian ensign seated at the communications console. “Open the channel.” Once Pzial nodded to indicate that the connection had been established, Okagawa turned his attention back to the viewer. “This is Captain Daniel Okagawa, commanding the Federation Starship Lovell.Commander, this planet has been claimed as Federation territory, and we are engaged in a peaceful scientific research mission on the surface.”

“Please do not insult our intelligence by maintaining this ridiculous charade, Captain,”Restrene replied. “We both are aware of the Federation’s true interest in this planet. Further, we know that you currently are harboring a known fugitive. You will surrender that fugitive and depart this system immediately, or we will be forced to take punitive action.”

He kept his expression neutral, but Okagawa cursed inwardly. How in the name of hell did they know that Nezrene was with them?

“They’re always so cheerful and friendly, aren’t they?” asked Commander Araev zh’Rhun, Okagawa’s first officer, from where she stood on the other side of the command chair, speaking in a voice low enough not to be picked up by the comm system.

Eyeing his Andorian exec, Okagawa replied, “You’re one to talk.” Turning back to the viewer, he said, “Commander, I will not lie to you. A Tholian citizen is with us, and she is aiding my people in the research we are conducting.”

“Then she is committing treason against the Tholian people,”Restrene countered. “ Another charge added to her list of crimes. You will transfer her to our custody, Captain.”

Okagawa glanced down at the astrogator before him at the center of the helm and navigation console, noting its depiction of the trio of Tholian ships and their relation to his ship’s current position. The ships dropped out of warp almost on top of the Lovell,exiting subspace within the orbital track of Erilon’s only moon. There barely had been time for sensors to register their approach and opportunity enough only to warn the landing parties down on the planet that trouble was brewing in orbit. Okagawa had ordered an evacuation, but less than half of the personnel on the surface had been transported aboard before the Tholian ships arrived on the scene and assumed an offensive combat formation around the Starfleet vessel.

After drawing a deep breath and knowing how his response likely would be received, Okagawa said, “With all due respect, Commander, I can’t do that. Nezrene has been charged to my responsibility.” In truth, he had believed it a mistake to bring the Tholian with them to Erilon, but Ming Xiong had insisted, citing her importance to the research he wished to conduct in the bowels of the ancient Shedai ruins. Okagawa had viewed the idea as risky, given the Tholians’ general jumpiness about Federation encroachment on planets in the Taurus Reach known to possess Shedai artifacts. The fact that they also were upset at the decision to offer Nezrene sanctuary aboard Vanguard and had made clear their desire to have her extradited, it made sense that they would monitor ship traffic to and from the station in the hopes of recapturing her should she leave her temporary safe haven for any reason. Had they done exactly that, thereby tracking Nezrene to Erilon?

I hate being right all the time.

Restrene’s response was to sever the communications link. On the main viewer, his image was replaced with that of the Tholian vessel. An instant later, the foremost point of the smaller vessel’s hull glowed red, and a writhing ball of energy spat forth, expanding as it drew closer until it bathed the viewscreen in a harsh crimson shroud an instant before the energy burst struck the Lovell’s shields.

Okagawa felt the deck shudder beneath his feet, and he reached back for his chair to steady himself as alarm indicators sounded around the bridge. “Helm, evasive maneuvers! Get me some breathing room. Pzial, notify the landing parties still on the surface that we’re breaking orbit.”

At the helm console, Lieutenant Sasha Rodriquez said, “Evasive, aye,” as she punched in the necessary commands to move the Lovellout of orbit. On the viewscreen, the Tholian vessel actually seemed to be breaking off, allowing the Starfleet ship the room to maneuver without harassment.

“Fire a warning shot across their bow,” Okagawa ordered. “I don’t want them dropping shields and activating transporters.”

At the weapons station, Diamond replied, “Aye, sir.”

The image on the main viewer depicted the twin streaks of bright blue energy as the Lovell’s main phaser banks came to bear, shooting past the forward edge of the Tholian ship.

“That’s going to irritate them,” zh’Rhun said.

There was no choice, Okagawa knew. Outnumbered three to one and with people vulnerable on the surface, his options were limited. He had to make a stand, a show of strength to demonstrate to the Tholians that he would not simply surrender or even make it easy for them to get what they had come for. Looking down at the astrogator, he saw that the other two vessels were breaking formation, moving closer together at the same time as they closed the distance between them and the Lovell.

“I’m picking up power surges in two of the ships,” reported Lieutenant Xav, the Lovell’s science officer. Standing at his console, the Tellarite was peering into his hooded sensor viewer. “Massive buildup in their secondary power-generation systems.”

“Continue evasive,” Okagawa ordered. Looking to zh’Rhun, he asked, “Any idea what they’re up to?”

The Andorian shook her head. “No, sir.”

Beneath his feet, Okagawa felt the deck tremble once again as another disruptor volley slammed into the ship’s deflector shields. Zh’Rhun, holding on to the curved railing to maintain her balance, called out, “Transfer power from nonessential systems to the shields.”

“Energy buildup is increasing,” Xav said. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Another strike on the shields sent reverberations through the deck plating, and Okagawa even felt the effects channeled through the arms of his chair. “Diamond, fire at will. Target to disable, if at all possible.” Even under the circumstances, he had no desire to take lives if it could be avoided. Damaged vessels were easier than dead people to discuss and perhaps reconcile, assuming the Tholians felt like discussing anything with the Federation ever again.

One problem at a time, Captain.

Overhead, the lighting flickered for the briefest of moments as the phaser systems drew power. Okagawa watched on the viewscreen as the blasts struck the shields of one Tholian vessel, which promptly broke off its own attack, changing course and veering away.

“Captain,” Xav called out from the science station, “the two ships actually look to be maneuvering into position to join or link up in some manner.”

Confused, Okagawa swiveled his chair toward the science officer. “Is one of the ships damaged? Are they attempting a rescue of some kind?”

“No damage I can see, sir,” the Tellarite replied. Then another alert tone sounded above the rest of the bridge’s omnipresent background chatter, and Xav looked up from his station. “Captain, new sensor contacts. Two Klingon ships approaching at high warp.”

Scarcely believing what he was hearing, Okagawa turned toward the science officer. “Are you serious?”

Xav nodded. “Yes, sir. They’re coming in at full impulse, shields up and weapons armed.”

Still gripping the bridge railing, zh’Rhun said, “The day just gets better and better.”

“They’re targeting the Tholian ships,” Xav reported.

“Onscreen,” Okagawa ordered.

The image on the viewer shifted once more to depict the now-familiar shapes of two Klingon D-7battle cruisers. At the forward edges of the vessels’ nacelles, the ships’ main disruptor banks glowed with the power of barely harnessed energy.

“Get us the hell out of the way,” Okagawa called out, gripping the arms of his chair even as Rodriquez worked her controls. Despite the Lovell’s inertial dampening field, his stomach still told him when the ship banked to starboard, answering the skilled touch of Rodriquez’s hand and clawing for distance.

At the science station, Xav shouted, “They’re opening fire!”

Angry red energy spat forth from the first one, then both of the Klingon cruisers as they homed in on their targets, the oddly conjoined pair of Tholian ships. Multiple plumes of disruptor fire slammed into the smaller vessel’s shields before overpowering those defenses. Another salvo, following on the heels of the first, pushed through the floundering deflectors and punched holes in the hull of one Tholian ship. Shuddering beneath multiple devastating hits, the vessel broke away from its companion only moments before its hull came apart. The vacuum of space snuffed out the intense fireball that ripped through the ship, spewing debris in all directions. Seconds later, the other Tholian vessel followed suit, its frame buckling beneath a relentless onslaught of Klingon disruptor fire.

“Captain,” said zh’Rhun, her tone one of warning, “if we don’t get out of here…”

Okagawa nodded. “I know, I know.” To Rodriquez, he said, “Helm, plot us an evasive course back to Erilon.” He could not leave without the people still on the planet’s surface.

“The Klingon ships are separating,” Xav said. “One is going after the last Tholian ship, and the other…” He turned to look at Okagawa. “Captain, the other is making for orbit. I’m picking up sensors directed at the planet.”

After exchanging alarmed glances with zh’Rhun, Okagawa looked first to Xav and then to the main viewer, which now showed an image of the blue-white world that was Erilon, with a Klingon cruiser speeding toward it. Both Klingon ships were ignoring the Lovell? Okagawa did not know whether to be relieved or insulted.

“What the hell are they doing?”

Running down the corridor, Mahmud al-Khaled was ripping open the closures on his parka with his free hand, reaching for his phaser even as he held his communicator close to his mouth.

“We’re detecting multiple transporter signatures, Mahmud,”said the anguished voice of Captain Okagawa. “Take cover, and do whatever you have to do to defend yourself. We’re on our way!”

“Acknowledged,” al-Khaled replied, skidding to a halt in the winding tunnel as he saw the first flashes of transporter beams, immediately noting that they were unlike any Starfleet transporter he had ever used.

“Intruder alert!” he called out, his voice echoing down the winding tunnel as six columns of fiery red transporter energy appeared less than ten meters in front of him, coalescing into humanoid figures far too tall and muscular to be humans. Al-Khaled heard his warning repeated by other members of the landing party as the figures took on substance, and he recognized them as Klingon warriors, each brandishing a disruptor pistol.

Al-Khaled aimed his phaser and waited until the transport cycle completed before he fired.

The single blue beam lanced across the open space, catching the Klingon at the front of the group full in the chest. The warrior staggered beneath the force of the attack, crumpling and falling unconscious to the tunnel’s rock floor. Al-Khaled fired again, backpedaling the way he had come as the remaining five Klingons aimed their own weapons at him. His second shot missed, punching into the stone wall behind one of the Klingons, but by now, they had sighted on him and were firing. A hell storm of disruptor energy flooded the tunnel as al-Khaled dashed around a bend, finding temporary cover out of his adversaries’ line of sight. Continuing to move and with his communicator still in his other hand, he keyed a control on the device and held it up once more. “Al-Khaled to landing party. Intruder alert. Klingons have entered the complex. Take appropriate defensive measures, and wait for the evacuation signal.”

A disruptor bolt tore into the rock behind his head, and al-Khaled ducked, looking over his shoulder to see the first of the Klingon soldiers rounding the bend several meters behind him. Recalling the layout of the underground complex, he knew that he was perhaps fifty meters from the main chamber, where Ming Xiong, the Tholian Nezrene, and other members of the landing party had spent the majority of their time working with centuries-old Shedai equipment. The large number of people working in that area and the activity taking place there would draw no small amount of attention, but al-Khaled saw no reason to lead his pursuers in that direction. He might be able to divert the Klingons, perhaps even buy his companions some extra time to secure the valuable research they were performing and ready their defense until they could be beamed to safety by the Lovell.

Another disruptor bolt struck the smooth wall to his left, and al-Khaled dodged to his right. Several meters ahead of him, an opening beckoned. He remembered that it was some kind of anteroom, empty of anything distinguishing as far as Shedai technology was concerned but offering another path toward the chamber in which Xiong and the others should be.

Whatever you’re going to do, do it now.

Stopping his headlong flight down the tunnel, al-Khaled turned and fired his phaser back the way he had come. He was not really trying to hit any of the Klingons but instead wanted to make them halt their pursuit and seek cover. He pressed the phaser’s firing stud again and again, unleashing a torrent of energy down the tunnel. Shadows flitted against the walls, indicating frantic movement as his pursuers stopped and threw themselves aside to avoid being hit.

You can’t win a standoff,his mind chided him. Do something.

Without really thinking about it, al-Khaled adjusted his phaser’s power setting before aiming the weapon at a spot along the tunnel’s roof several meters in front of him. When he fired this time, a thinner, more vibrant beam spat forth, penetrating the ceiling. He moved the continuous beam around in a rough approximation of a circle, and within seconds, the results of his effort became apparent as tons of loosened rock tumbled from the gap he had created. The sound of the avalanche cascaded through the confined space as rubble rained into the tunnel and quickly blocked the passageway.

Satisfied at his makeshift work while at the same time knowing that it would only slow the Klingons for a few moments at best, al-Khaled lunged through the opening in the tunnel wall and into the anteroom. Entrances to three tunnels converged here, and it took him a second to recall which one led to the main chamber. As he made his decision, he heard footsteps echoing in the narrow corridor just as a figure rounded a bend in the tunnel. It was Xiong, still wearing his Starfleet parka and carrying his phaser in his right hand while toting a satchel and his tricorder slung over his left shoulder. Behind him, Nezrene skittered along the tunnel’s smooth floor, trying to keep up. Another Starfleet crewman, an ensign named McCown from Xiong’s Vanguard-based research team, completed the haphazard group.

“Mahmud!” Xiong called out as he caught sight of al-Khaled. “What’s going on?”

Hooking a thumb over his shoulder to indicate the tunnel he had left behind, al-Khaled said, “Klingons. A pair of ships showed up and blasted three Tholian ships that were already giving the Lovelltrouble.” He nodded toward Nezrene. “The Tholians were after their friend there, but I have no idea what the Klingons are after.”

“Are we evacuating?” asked McCown, his expression one of unfettered worry, his breath coming in rapid gasps, visible in the tunnel’s chilled air.

Al-Khaled said, “Any time now, I’d think. We need to keep moving, though. The Lovellwill home in on our communicators.” Something crashed in the tunnel behind him, and he turned at the sound. “They’re breaking through the barricade I made. We need to get out of here—now.” Pointing toward the other tunnels leading from the anteroom, he said, “That way.” The first heavy footfalls echoed in the passageway, and al-Khaled saw shadows on the walls. “Move!”

Nezrene was the first to enter one of the tunnels, and al-Khaled was right behind her when the first disruptor bolts screamed through the chamber. He heard the energy of the blasts tearing into the smooth walls even before the guttural cries of anger and determination reached his ears. He turned and saw two of the Klingons entering the anteroom, and he fired his phaser, sending them dodging for cover. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Xiong running down another of the tunnels, with McCown following him. Then vicious crimson energy tore through the air and plowed into the ensign, punching a hole through the man’s parka and ripping into his back. McCown howled in agony, stumbling over his own feet and crashing to the ground in a disjointed heap.

“No!”

Al-Khaled’s cry drew the Klingons’ attention, and they turned toward him, once more raising their weapons. He fired at them again, and one of his shots hit a soldier in his left shoulder and spun him around, carrying him off his feet and sending him to the tunnel floor. His companion ducked, and al-Khaled fired after him, missing but giving himself enough time to scamper down the corridor.

He heard the sounds of the Klingons’ remaining companions plunging into the tunnel behind him, but he did not turn to look. Instead, he ran at full speed down the corridor, sprinting in an effort to catch up with Nezrene. A frantic beeping echoed off the narrow walls, and al-Khaled realized that it was his communicator. The next instant, he felt the distinctive tingle of a transporter beam beginning to envelop him.

Al-Khaled materialized in one of the Lovell’s transporter rooms, confronted by the anguished face of the crew member on duty, Ensign Brian O’Halloran. Standing just off the transporter pad were other members of the landing party, no doubt retrieved just before his beam-up. To his right on the transporter pad was Nezrene, and lying on the floor to his left was the unmoving form of Ensign McCown.

“Medic!” al-Khaled shouted as he knelt down next to McCown, his fingers reaching for the younger man’s throat in search of a pulse while he tried not to think too much about the ghastly wound in his back. Other members of the landing party stepped forward in a bid to help, but he ignored them, just as he only partially heard O’Halloran calling into the intercom and requesting that a medical team be dispatched to the transporter room. Nothing else mattered, not while he madly probed McCown’s neck for a pulse.

He found none.

“Bridge to transporter rooms!”the voice of Captain Okagawa shouted through the intercom. “Do we have everyone or not?”

Fighting back anger as he continued to stare at the unmoving body of Ensign McCown, al-Khaled called out, “O’Halloran! What’s going on?”

“The Klingon ships are breaking orbit,” replied the ensign. “They never fired the first shot at us.” Reaching across the console, he once more reactivated the intercom system. “Bridge, this is transporter room two. I have eight retrieved here. Six plus the Tholian and one casualty.”

Over the speaker, al-Khaled heard another voice respond, “Transporter room one here. We have nine. Only one sustained injuries, but they’re not critical.”

“That’s only seventeen,”Okagawa’s voice snapped. “Who’s missing?”

Looking around the transporter room, al-Khaled already knew the answer, but still he asked the question. “Where’s Xiong? He was near my location when I was beamed up.”

A moment later, the voice from transporter room one replied, “He’s not in our group, sir.”

“Son of a bitch!” al-Khaled growled, lunging from the transporter pad and moving around the console, all but elbowing O’Halloran out of the way. Hitting the comm switch, he said, “Lovellto Lieutenant Xiong. Come in, Xiong.” There was no response, but al-Khaled repeated the call even as he reset the transporter controls and scanned for life signs on or beneath Erilon’s surface. None revealed itself. Feeling his temperature rising, he ripped open the parka and shrugged out of it, letting it drop to the floor as he resumed his work at the console. “Bridge, I can’t get a lock on Xiong’s communicator signal. Are you scanning for him?” It took almost fifteen seconds before science officer Xav replied with the words Mahmud al-Khaled did not want to hear.

“We’re not picking up any human life signs anywhere, Commander. He’s either dead, or he’s not down there.”