Other than the centurion’s report and the usual telltale harmony of background noises that filtered through the room, the bridge was silent as the battle unfolded before her. Studying the battling vessels with a practiced eye, Sarith could tell from its somewhat slower and less graceful maneuvers which of the Tholian vessels was the more vulnerable. The commander of the battle cruiser must also have made that assessment, either via his own expertise or thanks to his ship’s sensors, as the larger ship rotated on its axis as if to bring its weapons to bear on the compromised enemy attacker. As its primary hull moved into view, Sarith noted the blackened and pitted sections of hull plating where damage had been inflicted near the ship’s forward torpedo launcher.
“It’s unusual for a Klingon ship to be caught in such a compromising position,” Ineti said as he moved to stand next to Sarith. “Were I that ship’s commander, I might consider ritual suicide were I to fall victim to such a pedestrian blunder.”
Sarith frowned at her friend’s observation. “It’s not like you to underestimate an adversary, Ineti,” she said. “We know the Tholians can be formidable opponents. I’m not about to let our earlier encounter set the tone for how I approach this particular enemy. That victory was little more than fortunate happenstance.”
On the screen, the Klingon cruiser unleashed a barrage of weapons fire as it completed its turn, catching the wounded and now noticeably slower-moving Tholian vessel in a vicious onslaught. Even without the assistance of magnification to enhance the viewer’s image, she could see explosions wrenching apart hull plates as the smaller vessel twisted and spun to retreat from the barrage. Brief plumes of fire and rapidly escaping atmosphere—the noxious combination of superheated gases that contributed to a livable environment for Tholians—appeared from the new gashes in the ship’s hull. Fragments of hull and whatever might have been blown into space from inside the wounded ship sailed out, leaving behind a rapidly expanding cloud of debris.
“The Tholian vessel has lost all main power,” Darjil reported, “including life support. Its companion remains undamaged.”
“What about the Klingon ship?” Sarith asked.
Still at his own station, N’tovek replied, “They have sustained major damage to their primary propulsion system, aft shield generators, and forward disruptor banks.”
“That should still be more than a match for the Tholians,” Ineti offered. “The Klingon commander should strike now, while the other ship exposes itself to attack as it attempts to render aid.”
While she and Ineti watched, the undamaged Tholian ship swept toward the Klingon cruiser. It released a fresh volley of weapons fire as it described an intricate series of rolling, twisting evasive maneuvers that succeeded in avoiding most of the return fire the warship could muster, compromised as it was due to the loss of its forward weapons emplacements. New wounds were gouged into the ship’s hull as the Tholian weapons found their mark, punching through the thick armored plating like a wild animal sinking its teeth into the soft flesh of newly captured prey.
The tactic seemed to work, as the cruiser abruptly rotated once more on its axis in what to Sarith appeared a desperate attempt to protect severely damaged sections of its exposed hull. Taking advantage of the momentary respite as the Klingon ship ceased its attempts to return fire, the Tholian vessel darted away from the point of attack, coming alongside its wounded companion. It produced a bright orange beam of energy that lanced out to envelop the damaged ship before accelerating again, this time away from the scene of battle.
“Retreat?” Sarith said, reacting with genuine surprise to what she was seeing on the screen. “No stomach for conflict when the tide turns against them?”
Still standing next to her, Ineti frowned. “Most unexpected. It appeared they had the tactical advantage.”
“Is the Klingon vessel giving chase?” Sarith asked.
There was a distinct pause, but before she could turn to rebuke her subordinates for the delay in answering her question, N’tovek suddenly looked up from his station. “Commander, they’re altering their course and heading in this direction.”
What?
“Disengage all power systems except for the cloak and passive sensors,” Sarith ordered without another moment’s hesitation. “Now!”
They had been detected. It was the only logical explanation, she decided, but how?
All around her, consoles went dark as power generated by the Talon’s engines was severed. The bridge was plunged into darkness as life-support and illumination disengaged, and Sarith felt a momentary twinge in her stomach when the artificial gravity was first lost then restored, low-power battery backup systems automatically engaging to compensate for the loss of primary power. Dim red lighting flickered on, distorting the shadows and the expressions on the faces of the crew around her.
“Report,” she said, involuntarily adopting a hushed whisper as she issued the order. Logic told her the measure was ridiculous, as sounds could not travel through the vacuum of space, but nevertheless she felt somewhat eased by not disrupting the shroud of quiet that had fallen over the bridge.
Apparently, she was not alone. “All primary systems are offline, Commander,” N’tovek replied, his own voice low and subdued yet clearly audible now that the control room’s characteristic background noises had faded. “The Klingon vessel is moving in this direction on half-impulse. Its sensors are active at full power.”
So, they had somehow been detected. Sarith looked to Ineti and saw even through the shadows masking her old friend’s face that the subcommander shared her deduction.
“How?” she asked him, neither of them requiring her to elaborate.
“I suspect the Tholians,” Ineti replied, also employing a reserved tone. “Perhaps the vessel we encountered was able to transmit information on what their sensors recorded before we destroyed it.”
That made sense, Sarith decided. If indeed the Tholians had relayed information on whatever sensor readings they had registered prior to their destruction, it was possible that data had been disseminated to other vessels traveling the Taurus Reach. For all she knew, her vessel might already be a quarry hunted by the forces of the Tholian Assembly.
Her jaw clenching as she regarded that alarming theory, Sarith turned to where N’tovek manned the bridge’s only operational workstation. Almost all of the controls and gauges before him were darkened in response to operating on battery backup systems. Only the soft blue glow of the sensor viewfinder into which he peered offered any sign of activity across the otherwise lifeless control room. “Where are they?” she asked.
“Four hundred mat’drihto port and closing,” N’tovek replied. “They are executing a series of irregular steering maneuvers, Commander.” Looking up from the viewfinder, he fixed Sarith with a knowing gaze. “It appears to be a search pattern.”
The Klingon vessel already was closer than the first Tholian vessel had been when its sensors apparently had detected the cloaked Talon. Were sensors aboard the battle cruiser at least as proficient as their Tholian counterparts?
The angled bulkheads of the bridge seemed to press in around them as Sarith counted off the intervals until—based on her calculations—the Klingon warship would either pass by or perhaps even run headlong into her ship. Without power for the viewscreens or even the ship’s more active sensors, there was no way to watch the enemy vessel’s approach or to see just how much danger she and her crew currently faced. N’tovek was her only source of information, and she could see even in the control room’s reduced lighting that the strain was beginning to show on his normally passive features.
“We are drifting,” the centurion called out softly, and Sarith’s heart beat harder against the walls of her chest. Given the Klingon cruiser’s movements as it searched for whatever had spooked its commander and the Tholians, there was no way for her to predict whether her vessel’s path would cross that of the warship. Should she order restoration of thruster power to make a course correction? Would that action reveal their presence? She knew she had only moments to make a decision that regardless of the option she chose almost certainly would result in disaster for her ship and its crew.