La Sala shrugged. “Unlike some people, I think size doesmatter.” She grinned, bobbing her eyebrows in suggestive fashion before nodding toward the corridor outside the room. “Clock’s ticking, Xiong. We need to get gone.”
“Okay,” he replied, turning to the exit. Then he stopped, seeing the packing crate and the now-sealed sarcophagus it contained. “Wait,” he said, pointing to the crate. “We can’t leave this.”
“No time for that, Ming,” La Sala said, worry in her voice.
Turning to look at her, Xiong said, “We can’t leave it. It’s important,Jeanne.”
Reluctantly, the security officer nodded. “Okay.”
57
“Incoming!”
In defiance of his weapons officer’s warning, Komoraq stood before his captain’s chair on the M’ahtagh’s bridge, holding on to nothing for support as the photon torpedo made impact against the cruiser’s shields. Consoles and display monitors across the bridge flickered as power momentarily dipped, and Komoraq felt his stomach lurch as the ship’s artificial gravity and inertial dampening systems wavered for the slightest instant.
“Return fire!” he ordered, punctuating the command by pumping his gloved fist in the air before him. On the forward screen, the image of the Starfleet ship danced in and out of view, as though taunting him.
I will mount their captain’s head on my trophy wall,he vowed, relishing the image of how he would exact vengeance for what had transpired here. The Starfleet captain, a treacherous petaQin the finest Earther tradition, had employed misdirection and subterfuge rather than facing him directly, capitalizing on such trickery in order to close to transporter range of the planet. Sensors had detected the transporter signatures, and Komoraq had even ordered his communications officer to warn his wife and the rest of the landing party on the surface, but the response from Lorka had told him he was too late. The Earthers had infiltrated the ancient ruins, no doubt seeking to reclaim their lost compatriot. Meanwhile, the Starfleet ship had turned back toward the M’ahtagh,engaging in strafing runs and other craven maneuvers with the obvious goal of keeping his ship from getting close enough to the planet to send down reinforcements. No matter how long he lived or however many times he might engage Earthers in battle, he never would understand their predilection for wasting so much effort on the salvation of a single life.
Such weakness ultimately will be their undoing.
“Captain,” Lieutenant Kalorg called from the weapons station, “the enemy vessel is altering course again!”
Stepping forward so that he stood alongside the helm console, Komoraq shouted, “Fire at will!”
On the viewscreen, successive bursts of fiery red energy lanced across the void separating the two ships, and Komoraq watched the multiple flares as the disruptor blasts slammed into the Starfleet vessel’s deflector shields. For an instant, the field around the enemy ship glimmered, and he was sure he saw one of the bolts pass through the protective barrier to strike the ship itself.
“Direct hit on their secondary hull,” Kalorg reported. “No breach.”
The other ship returned fire, brilliant beams of blue energy cut across the void, interspersed with the hot white, elongated orbs of a photon-torpedo barrage. Once more, Komoraq felt the M’ahtagh’s shields absorb the hits, though this time, he heard the troubled warbling of the main engines as they, too, suffered the effects of the assault. On the bridge, the most immediate effect of the strike was the loss of the main viewer, the image depicted on it dissolving into a storm of hissing static.
“Shield generators are down to twenty-six percent,” Kalorg called out above the din of alarms and the status reports offered by other members of the bridge crew. “Warp drive is offline. Main sensor array is inoperative!”
“Get me a tactical plot,” Komoraq ordered. Reaching past his helm officer, he stabbed the controls on the console to execute the command, but the viewscreen remained nonfunctional. To his credit, the young lieutenant manning the helm did not appear affected by the chaotic situation, his attention focused on his station as he continued to pilot the vessel. “Where are they?”
“They’ve broken off their attack,” Kalorg replied. Turning from his station, he added, “Captain, they maneuvered into orbit around the planet and activated transporters again.”
Had the Earthers found their precious companion? Komoraq did not care about that any longer. Lorka had found the human to possess value to her research, but he was happy to be rid of the miserable cretin. He could only hope that the Earthers had taken the equally worthless Tholian with them, though he would not have minded killing the irksome rodent himself.
“Bring us about,” he ordered, standing behind his helm officer and observing the console’s array of tactical displays, which indicated the M’ahtagh’s position in relation to the planet and the Starfleet ship. “Stand by all weapons. All available power to the forward shields.” Even with his own vessel wounded, he had no intention of breaking off the fight.
“Captain!” Kalorg said. “The enemy vessel is veering away from us.” A moment later, he added, “They have accelerated to warp speed.”
No!
Komoraq’s furious growl echoed around the cramped bridge as he pounded the back of the helm officer’s chair with his fist. The Earther captain had apparently accomplished his mission and now was running like a terrified child, rather than remaining here and finishing the fight he had started. Coward!
“What is the status of warp drive?” he asked, rage all but smothering every syllable.
Shaking his head, Kalorg replied, “The engineer reports that it will take at least thirty kuvitsto bring control systems back online.”
Too long, Komoraq knew. Turning to Kalorg, he said, “Kill the engineer.”
“Yes, Captain,” Kalorg replied, saluting as he acknowledged the order.
From the communications station, Lieutenant Mondol said, “Captain, we are receiving a signal from the surface from Commander Lorka.”
“Open a channel,” Komoraq ordered, his heart racing at the mere mention of his wife’s name. Whatever had transpired on the planet below, his mate had survived.
“M’ahtagh, this is Science Officer Lorka. Something is happening down here.”
Frowning, Komoraq replied, “What do you mean?”
“Massive power generation throughout the complex,”Lorka replied. “We are detecting energy readings across the continent.”
Komoraq looked to Kalorg. “What’s she talking about?”
At the weapons station, the lieutenant was scrambling to find answers. “I’ve rerouted navigational and weapons-tracking scanners to substitute for the main array,” he said. Then he nodded. “She’s right. There’s an enormous power buildup across the planet. It is the alien systems, Captain.”
“How in the name of Fek’lhrcan that be?” Komoraq asked.
Then, in one sickening instant, realization dawned.
“Alert the transporter room!” he shouted, pointing to Kalorg. “Get them out of there!”
Scorn. Chaos. Fear. Doom.
The thoughts echoed in the Shedai Wanderer’s consciousness as she emerged from the void and fell to the lush, thriving world. Weakened from her journey, she nevertheless was able to sense the presence of Telinaruulon the world the Shedai once had ruled. Reaching out with tendrils of her consciousness, she was able to detect the hints of primitive life, created by the Makers long ago and placed here to develop at its own rate. The primeval children were aeons from evolving into anything that might be of any use to the Shedai, but their very existence had been tainted by the arrogant meddling of the unworthy ones who seemed capable of nothing but stumbling from planet to planet and contaminating everything with which they came into contact.