“We will need a stasis chamber for Thriss’s body,” zh’Thane said, seeming not to notice that Ro had spoken. “Please have it delivered as soon as possible. Discreetly.”
“Certainly.” Ro eyed Tarses, who nodded almost imperceptibly as he moved toward the door with Shul.
As zh’Thane turned away from her, Ro began to make her way to the door as well. She stooped near Anichent and Dizhei, but carefully avoided coming into contact with them. They maintained their crouched positions, both of them seeming to be entirely inward-directed.
In a low voice, Ro said, “My sincere condolences on the loss of your bondm—”
Anichent lunged at her like a mad targ,his eyes wild, spittle flying from his mouth. The strangled growl he let out was unlike anything Ro had ever heard before, and she toppled backward, kicking out to try to get into a defensive posture.
Shul drew his phaser and leveled it at Anichent, but there was no need. Anichent froze where he stood, though his chest heaved and drool still came from his mouth. Ro backed away and stood, holding one hand up to calm Shul, and the other in front of her, palm outward, to placate Anichent.
“Please leave,” zh’Thane said, her back still toward them. “As you can surely see by now, Shar’s choice not to conform to his predestined bonding has destroyed not just Thriss’s life. My son has also ravaged the lives of Anichent and Dizhei.”
Ro and the others backed out of the room in silence. None of them spoke until they were back at the Promenade, where the bustle of life replaced the pall of death.
2
A gout of blue flame ripped through the long ship’s irregular hull as it sped through space, maneuvering from side to side in an effort to dodge further blasts from its pursuers. The disruptor weapons on the larger craft were mounted on gimbals, allowing them to track its smaller prey’s movements closely.
The smaller ship accelerated, the lambent internal fires of its propulsion system becoming preternaturally bright. Another salvo struck her laterally, slicing deep into the hull plating amidships. Undeterred, the small craft’s pilot continued to spin and weave, evading the next burst of energy. Moments later, another blast struck a glancing blow, shearing off an extrusive wing element. But the wounded vessel soldiered on, headed toward a somewhat less empty region of space, where fragments of cometary ice shimmered as they made their centuries-long procession around this system’s distant primary star.
And then, in front of the fleeing craft, yet another ship loomed. Exiting the system’s Oort cloud was a large, gray, nearly flat vessel flanked by blue-illuminated engine nacelles integrated into its hull. Across its nacelles and protruding dorsal surface the designation NX-74205 was visible, thanks to several running lights.
The damaged ship swooped to give the newcomer a wide berth, only to catch yet another disruptor blast on its port side. Molecular fires danced across the hull of the now all but wrecked vessel, and crystallizing atmospheric gases rushed out as she careened forward—now on a collision course with the newly arrived ship.
A short time earlier
Ensign Thirishar ch’Thane sat alone on the floor of the darkened quarters he shared with Nog. He listened intently to the quiet, taking solace in this solitary, lightless space. Since Nog was currently on a survey mission with Lieutenant Dax and Dr. Bashir, he would probably have the room to himself for the next several hours. At least until his next duty shift began.
The only light in the room came from the holo of a laughing Thriss, which blazed down at him from the room’s small desk. The image captured a few crystalline moments, endlessly replaying her soundless laugh, the carefree toss of her platinum hair. Looking at the image was sheer torture.
But he owed her a penance. Owed it to Dizhei and Anichent as well. Owed it to every Andorian who had ever dared hope for a better future.
He couldn’t bring himself to look away.
So far, Shar had shared the news of Thriss’s suicide only with Ezri, whom he knew he could trust not to tell anyone else. But how long would it be before Nog or others among this crew of forty began guessing at what was troubling him? Shar was already certain that his decision to sit out the shuttlecraft Sagan’s current survey mission had already given Nog cause to suspect that all was not right with him.
A yellow alert klaxon sounded, and a light began flashing rhythmically above the doorway.
Shar regarded the intrusive illumination contemplatively. After ordering the computer to extinguish its light and noise, he was only mildly surprised to note how little it concerned him.
And he wondered if he had finally begun to drink from the same cup of despair that had killed both Thriss and his future.
Commander Elias Vaughn sat forward in his seat, one hand absently stroking his salt-and-pepper beard. His eyes were intent on the Defiant’s main viewscreen, where he could see a large, bulbous ship pursuing and firing on a somewhat smaller, gracefully tapered vessel. The pitted, scarred hulls of both vessels bore mute testament to countless previous battles.
“Any luck hailing them?” Vaughn growled at Lieutenant Sam Bowers, who was running the tactical station.
“No, sir,” Bowers said with a shake of the head. “I’m hailing them on all frequencies, but nothing’s coming through.”
“Take us in closer, Ensign Lankford,” Vaughn said, nodding to the blond woman who sat at the conn. Vaughn then turned his head slightly, speaking over his shoulder toward the tactical station. “Keep all shields at the ready, Mr. Bowers. This is obviously a touchy situation, and until we can get some idea of what’s happening and why, we need to see to our own protection first.”
“Aye, sir,” Bowers said.
The turbolift doors whooshed open, and Vaughn saw his daughter, Ensign Prynn Tenmei, tug momentarily on her tunic as she stepped out onto the bridge. They locked eyes for an instant. “Sorry to cut your lunch short, Ensign,” Vaughn said, then mimed wiping his hand across his mouth.
Tenmei got the hint and subtly removed the remnants of red sauce from her lower lip as she took her post at the conn. Lankford moved aside for her, taking a secondary post at the back of the bridge.
“I wonder what this fight is about?” Vaughn said to no one in particular.
On the viewscreen, the heavily damaged alien ship flared with crackling electrical energy, then spun toward them at a dizzying speed.
“I think it’s about to land in our laps,” Tenmei said dryly.
“Evasive maneuvers!” Vaughn shouted. The Defiantlurched to the side, tossing the bridge crew along with it as the ship’s inertial dampers struggled to keep the artificial gravity field stable.
A split second later, something slammed into the Defiant,and Vaughn heard an unmistakable rending sound coming from the port side of the navigational deflector.
“Shields holding!” Bowers yelled. “We’ve taken a glancing hit from the pursuing vessel.”
Vaughn thought he would decide later whether or not the pursuing vessel’s attack on the Defianthad been deliberate. “Damage?” he barked.
“The pursuer’s weaponry didn’t do anything to us,” said Bowers.
Tenmei checked a conn display. “But that near collision cost us our portside targeting sensors.”
“What’s the status of the damaged alien ship?” Vaughn asked, turning toward the science station.
“It survived its brush with our shields and is now headed deeper into the Oort cloud, Captain,” said science specialist Kurt Hunter. The eager-looking young officer quickly consulted a readout before continuing. “But it’s losing power rapidly, no doubt because of all the damage its pursuer has inflicted on it. My scans show that both of these vessels have only rudimentary warp capabilities.”