I like the way you think, Cooper,Khatami mused. Just remind me never to play poker with you.
“Mr. Klisiewicz,” she said, glancing toward the science station, “what’s the condition of the ship they’re chasing?”
At his console, Klisiewicz leaned over so that he could peer into the hooded viewer. “If it had deflector shields, they’re down. Sensors are picking up damage all along the hull, but so far, it’s still intact.”
Khatami asked, “What about life signs? Just the one?”
“Yes,” the science officer replied. “It’s a smaller ship, probably some kind of scout vessel. The other two ships are of the cruiser design we’re more familiar with.”
More familiar with.
The phrase rolled around in Khatami’s mind. So far, Starfleet’s dealings with Tholian vessels had been limited. Individually, Tholian ships presented only limited tactical challenges to most Federation starships. It was when they worked in concert, operating in groups of three or more, that they began to present a more imposing threat, even to larger and more powerful adversaries such as Constitution-class starships.
From behind her at the communications station, Lieutenant Hector Estrada said, “Captain, I’m picking up a new signal. It’s coming from one of the other Tholian ships.”
Khatami frowned. “This ought to be good. Let’s hear it.”
A harsh, clipped voice burst from the bridge speakers. “Federation outpost, this is theBattle Cruiser Vin’q Tholis, representing the Tholian Assembly. The vessel we are pursuing is stolen property, and its pilot is a known fugitive. Attempting to assist this criminal or in any way obstruct us from retrieving this vessel and its pilot will be considered an act of aggression against our government.”
The voice was a pitch or two deeper to Khatami’s ear than that of the first Tholian to contact the station, Nezrene, but the similarities in pronunciation and inflection were acute. Was it her imagination, or did she detect a slight hint of fear behind the aggressive demands?
Over the same communications channel, Khatami and the rest of the bridge crew listened as Commander Cooper responded, “Tholian vessels, this is the commander of Starbase 47. Be advised that you have entered Federation space without authorization. The vessel you are pursuing has requested asylum on this station, and I now apprise you of our intentions to grant that sanctuary. You are therefore ordered to cease fire and alter your course heading immediately. Any attacks on this station or any ship under its protection will be considered hostile acts, and we will take all necessary measures to defend ourselves. Acknowledge.”
“Any response to that from the Tholians?” asked Khatami.
From behind her, Estrada replied, “No, Captain.”
“How delightfully unexpected,” retorted Lieutenant Commander Bersh glov Mog, the Endeavour’s chief engineer, from where he sat at his station.
Despite the tension she could feel mounting around the bridge as she looked over her shoulder at the burly Tellarite, Khatami could not help the wry grin she felt warming her features. “Don’t tell me youthink they’rebeing rude, Mog?”
The engineer shook his head. “Rude? That would require them actually answering our hails. No, I think they’re just being insufferable asses.”
“Thanks for clearing that up,” Khatami said as she returned her attention to the main viewscreen. “Okay, look sharp, people. Things are going to get very interesting in the next couple of minutes. Klisiewicz, what are they doing?”
The science officer turned to face her. “Still giving chase, Captain. They’ll cross the station’s outer defensive perimeter in less than a minute.”
“That’s why we’re here, Lieutenant,” Khatami said. Cooper’s orders had been quite clear on this point: protect the fleeing Tholian vessel at all costs. The station’s defenses would likely be far more than a match for the other ships, but it would be the Endeavour’s responsibility to ensure that they never got that close. Glancing over her shoulder at Estrada, she said, “Lieutenant, hail the Tholian ships, and let them know that the path to Vanguard goes through us.”
All around her, Khatami sensed her blunt, no-nonsense message having the desired effect as a new burst of determination seemed to course through everyone on the bridge. From the overhead speakers, she heard the litany of status reports coming from stations throughout the ship, notifying the bridge that they stood ready to face whatever tasks or challenges the next minutes might bring.
The responses of her crew as they readied themselves filled Khatami herself with a familiar confidence, the sort that could be cultivated only from leading into the unknown those who had placed in her their faith that she would do right by them. Since taking command of the Endeavourafter the tragic death of its former captain, Zhao Sheng, Khatami had struggled to see herself as deserving of that sacred trust. In those few short months, circumstances already had given her ample opportunity to demonstrate her worthiness. Despite their success on those occasions, Khatami knew that as a leader, her ongoing responsibility was to continue reinforcing the bond to this crew, which once had been Zhao’s but now was charged to her.
“Captain,” said Estrada, “I’ve sent the message on a repeating loop, but we’re not getting any responses to it.”
Khatami had only a moment to cast a knowing look at Mog before Klisiewicz suddenly exclaimed, “We’re being targeted!”
No sooner were the words out of the science officer’s mouth than the entire ship shuddered around Khatami. Her hands flailed for her chair’s armrests, barely preventing her from being tossed to the deck. Overhead, the bridge’s main lighting flickered for a moment before returning to full illumination, and the distraught howl of the red-alert Klaxon wailed across the bridge.
“Evasive maneuvers!” Khatami shouted over the din. “Damage report!”
Using the sensor viewer to hold himself steady, Klisiewicz replied, “Direct hit on forward shields. No damage.”
Yeah, but those Tholian weapons still pack a mean punch.As though striving to emphasize her thought, the ship bucked again as the Endeavour’s shields absorbed another strike. All around the bridge, display screens and lighting blinked in chaotic fashion. Khatami waved toward the viewscreen. “Target those ships, and fire at will, but aim to disable only. And give me a tactical view.”
Neelakanta nodded without looking up from his station. “Aye, Captain.” The lieutenant’s fingers were almost a blur, moving across the console’s rows of controls as though possessed of their own will.
“In case you were wondering, Mr. Estrada,” Mog said from where he still sat at the engineering station, “that was the Tholians responding to our hail.”
Ignoring the comment, Khatami focused her attention on the computer-generated schematic now on the main viewer. The Endeavourwas displayed as a bright blue circle at the image’s center, and the trio of Tholian vessels appeared as red arrowheads in the screen’s upper right quadrant. The tactical plot updated with each passing second as the other ships’ positions and distances changed in relation to the Endeavour.