Pennington held his breath as the gap between them and the doors shrank. Then the hull of Broon’s pirate vessel gave way to open space and he was pressed back in his seat as Quinn keyed the impulse drive.
“Get on the sensors,” Quinn said, “tell me if they’re coming after us.”
Leaning forward in his seat, Pennington entered the commands to activate the ship’s sorry excuse for scanners, taking a moment to scrutinize the readings before shaking his head. “Not yet, anyway.”
“I’m plotting our course for warp speed now,” Quinn said. “Another minute and we’ll be in the clear.”
Pennington nodded. “What was with the drone?” He could not understand why Quinn would waste time fooling with the device.
“I activated its transceiver relay,” Quinn replied. “It’s sending a distress call right now.” Looking up, he offered a sly smile which appeared crooked thanks to the bruising on his right cheek. “With luck, the Klingons will be on the way and Broon can explain to them what he’s doing with a piece of their hardware.”
Despite himself, Pennington could not help returning the smile. “Grand.”
“I thought so,” Quinn said, chuckling. “Nice moves back there, by the way. Tripping that airlock was pretty smart thinking. Saved our hides, mine in particular.” Glancing sideways toward Pennington, he nodded. “I owe you one, Tim.”
“No charge, mate,” the reporter replied, taken somewhat off guard by Quinn’s sudden display of gratitude. It was most out of character for the trader, though not at all unwelcome.
Their sense of amused self-satisfaction was short-lived, however, as Armnoj rose from his seat and stuck his head into the cockpit.
“Is this how you protect Mr. Ganz’s valuable property?” the Zakdorn opined, looming over Quinn’s shoulder with his briefcase. “I could have died back there.”
“You can die right here, if you don’t shut up,” Quinn replied without looking up from his console.
Sniffing the air in his usual self-aggrandizing manner, Armnoj made a sound which to Pennington sounded like a rapacious cat readying to pounce on a wayward mouse. “Rest assured I’ll be making a full report to Mr. Ganz immediately upon our…”
Pennington slugged him, his fist connecting with the accountant’s jaw and sending him staggering out of the cockpit, tripping over his own feet and landing with a heavy thud on the deck.
“Thanks. Now I owe you two,” Quinn said as he keyed a series of controls and the Rocinantejumped to warp speed.
37
Sitting in the center seat on the bridge of the Endeavour, Atish Khatami once more was gripped by the nagging sensation that the chair and the responsibilities which came with it were too much for her to bear.
“Detecting seven power sources coming online, Captain,” Ensign Klisiewicz reported from the science station. “Same locations as before, including the one directly beneath the site where the landing party and research teams are working.”
Khatami noted the nervousness in the young man’s voice, certain that everyone around them shared his anxiety. The memories from the Endeavour’s last visit here—and what it had cost them—still were fresh, though her people of course were manning their posts and seeing to their assigned duties with the air of aplomb and professionalism Captain Zhao always had demanded. Still, she sensed none of the uncertainty or discomfort she knew had plagued members of the crew in the days following her promotion.
Maybe Leone’s cure for that particular malady is starting to spread.
Emboldened by that thought—as juvenile as it might seem—and despite the tension she knew permeated the bridge, Khatami felt herself sit up just a bit straighter in the command chair.
“Captain,” Klisiewicz called out, turning in his seat, “temperatures at those locations are rising, but they’re doing so faster than before.”
“What?” Mog said, looking up from the engineering station. “Faster?”
Klisiewicz nodded. “Yes, sir. The rate of increase is almost double what we experienced…the last time.”
“Somebody’s been busy while we were away,” Khatami said. Faster temperature increase meant that the lag between attacks from the planetary defense system they had faced during their last encounter would be cut almost in half, and said nothing about any increase in accuracy or power that the massive weapons may have received. “Red alert, all hands to battle stations,” she ordered before glancing over her shoulder to the officer seated at the communications station. “Ensign, get me Captain Okagawa on the Lovell.”
It took only a moment for the frequency to be set up, and the image on the main viewer shifted to display the anxious face of the other ship’s commanding officer, his face creased with worry lines as he sat on the somewhat smaller yet still vibrant bridge of his own vessel.
“ I take it you’ve picked up the power readings?”Okagawa asked by way of introduction.
Khatami nodded. “Yes. Their rate of increase is faster this time around. Captain, I don’t think your shields will be enough to protect you. We had enough trouble ourselves during our first run-in. I suggest you orbit out to maximum transporter range and wait.”
She could tell by the look on his face that Okagawa was not pleased with that notion, and could sympathize. Like her, he had people on the surface and had no desire to leave them unprotected. That worry had to be waging with his obligation to follow her instructions, as she was the on-site commander of the current operation.
“ Very well,”he said after a moment, his expression belying his apparent willingness to concede to her judgment. “ My people are continuing to study those power readings. Now that we’ve got some fresh information to work with, they might be able to tell us more about this supposed link between the different locations.”
“Keep on that, Daniel,” Khatami answered before offering what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “We’ll take care of the nasty stuff if necessary.”
A warning alarm from the science station made her turn her head in time to see Klisiewicz rising from his chair and moving to peer into the console’s hooded sensor viewer. “Captain,” he said without looking away from the viewer, “power readings are approaching pre-firing temperatures.”
“Reroute power from nonessential systems to the shields,” Khatami ordered. “Plot firing solutions on those locations and stand by photon torpedoes.”
The previous attack had come with such speed and fury that there had been time to do nothing save tuck tail and scamper for safety. That would not happen this time, Khatami vowed, not while she still had people in harm’s way down on the planet’s surface. She would leave no one behind, not now, not ever again.
“I think we’re in trouble.”
The temperature inside the control chamber was now almost on par with the standard environment aboard ship. Xiong had long since abandoned his parka and sweat ran down the sides of his face as he and al-Khaled worked. Holding a tricorder, the lieutenant adjusted the device’s settings while using it to scan their surroundings. “Power levels are increasing,” he reported after a moment. It had been a simple matter to detect the activation of the mysterious power source buried somewhere deep beneath their present location. Even though the tricorder had picked up power signatures activating at scattered points throughout the ancient structure, none of the consoles in this chamber had been affected by this new development, much to Xiong’s disappointment.
He turned at the sound of al-Khaled’s communicator beeping for attention, and he looked over as the engineer retrieved the device from his belt and with a flick of his wrist flipped the unit’s cover open. “Al-Khaled here.”