The Lost Era: Well of Souls: Star Trek (24 page)

“They must have found the ship,” said Strong, the color draining from his face like water from a leaky bucket. His voice was high and tight. “Someone must have found the ship parked around the moon, planted a homing beacon.”

“But who?” asked Thex. “Why not board it? That doesn’t make sense.”

“Worry about what makes sense later,” Halak rapped. “First, we shut it down. Thex, can you jam it?”

“Trying, sir,” said Thex. He gritted his teeth as if a physical effort on his part would, magically, push his commands through. After a moment, he shook his head. His antennae
knotted, unfurled. Kinked. “Negative. I can’t. It’s not routed through our communications system. In fact, I’m not sure where ...”

“The engines,” said Halak suddenly.
That’s what I would do; make it inaccessible.
“Check the engines, the power couplings.”

Thex’s brow crinkled even as he moved to comply. “The engines? I don’t ... got it. Left nacelle, main power coupling. It’s a subspace transponder, Commander, tied into the antimatter injector. No way to disable it without dropping out of warp.”

“Probably programmed to
activate
when we went to warp.”

“That might explain why we didn’t detect it when Lieutenant Strong brought the shuttle in from its lunar stationary orbit. She came in on quarter-impulse.”

“But who? Thex, can you get a read on ... ?”

“Sir!” It was Strong. “Two unidentified scouts, closing fast!”

Halak whirled around in his chair. “Where?”

“Off the port bow, sir!” Strong’s head jerked up. “Sir, they must have used the same trick.”

“Hiding behind the moon,” said Halak. “Are they Ryn?”

“Negative. They’re way too fast. Coming in at warp five!”

“Thex, what are their weapons?”

“I’m reading type-1 disrupters. We outgun them, sir.”

“Raising shields,” said Halak. He jabbed at his console, and their shields clicked into place.
And, thank God, they didn’t deactivate them.
“Strong, how much longer before we’re out of the Ryn system?”

“Five minutes, ten seconds.”

“Thex, what about that homing beacon?”

The yellow glare coming from the Andorian’s console had turned his skin a sickly shade of green. “Sorry, sir. No way to kill it.”

“Without killing us,” Halak said. “Cut warp drive, and
we’re sitting ducks. All right, everyone hang on. Let’s see if I can shake them loose.”

The starfield outside the shuttle whirled in a dizzying spiral as Halak banked left and then began what, in an atmosphere, would have been a steep, coiling Immelmann turn.

“They’re turning,” Strong reported. “Matching course and speed. They just raised their shields.”

“Come on,” Halak muttered, dropping the shuttle and banking hard right, “come on, come on, cut
loose!”

“Still with us!”

“Something here, Commander!” It was Thex. “I’m reading fluctuation in one of those ship’s warp nacelles. There’s been a minute power drop, but it looks like it’s increasing. He’s going to have to drop out of warp, or else the engine ...”

“Sir!” Strong sang out. “They’re powering up weapons! Locking on!”

“Taking evasive maneuvers!” Halak spun the shuttle to port and pushed the vessel into a steep dive. “Hang on!”

“Too late!” Strong shouted.

A second later, the shuttle lurched. Halak cursed and fought with the controls. “Report!”

“Hit to starboard. They missed the nacelle but got a piece of the aft hull. Shields down to eighty-five percent,” said Thex.

“Shall I return fire?” asked Strong, his finger hovering over the targeting computer.

Halak shook his head in a curt negative. “We aren’t here to fight, Strong. We keep up this speed, we’ll cross into neutral space. With any luck, they’ll drop back and ...”

“Firing again!” shouted Thex.

The shuttle shuddered. Thex checked the damage. “Clipped our starboard nacelle. She’s holding!”

“What about shields?”

“Eighty percent!”

“Commander,”
Strong gripped the edges of his console, “at least let me return fire, try to scare them off!”

“Negative, negative that!” Halak was thinking fast. He couldn’t take a chance that these were unmarked Ryn scouts. “Our orders are not to engage ...”

“They just jumped speed!” Thex called out. “Now at warp six! They’re gaining!”

“What?”
Halak’s heart did a stutter-step. Gaining, it couldn’t be. “Thex, are you sure?”

“Oh, hell.” Strong’s face was shiny with sweat. “Commander, they can’t be Ryn, they
can’t!
Ryn scouts don’t go that fast! They have to be Syndicate!”

“Well, whoever they are, they’re getting a lock,” Thex warned. “Commander! Whatever you’re going to do, do it fast!”

“All right!” Halak snapped. “Strong,
one
shot! Target the vessel with the faulty antimatter injector. See if you can knock it out of commission and get the other vessel to drop back.”

Strong bared his teeth in a determined grimace. His fingers danced over his targeting controls. “Aye! Targeting port nacelle of the closest ship. Firing ... now!”

There was a momentary flicker of the overhead lights, and Halak imagined he heard the dance and sizzle of the phaser blast licking across space.

“We hit him, we hit him!” Thex’s voice ramped up with excitement. “Direct hit, port nacelle. His shields are down to sixty percent. I’m reading fluctuations in the engine, worse than before, the injector’s ... Sir!” Thex’s stricken gaze found Halak. “Sir, his warp bubble’s collapsing!”

“Oh, God, he’s going to go,” Strong said, instinctively straight-arming the edges of his console. “He’s got a runaway, he’s going to go, he’s going to
go!”

“What about the other ship?” Halak demanded. “Are they close enough, can they help?”

“They’re closing in, looks like they might be trying to help, but I don’t think they’re going to make it!”

“Thex, are we within transporter range?”

“Negative, sir!”

“Do we have time to reach them?”

“Only if you go now, sir, right
now!”

“What?” Strong was flabbergasted. “Commander?”

Halak ignored him. “All right! Thex, try to raise them, get them to stand down!”

Strong was at his elbow. “Commander, you can’t, we’ll get too close, we’ll be ...”

“As you
were,
Lieutenant! I’ll only bring us around once they acknowledge ...”

“Too late!” Thex reported. “She’s breaking up, she’s breaking up!”

Halak had only begun his turn, but it was in time for the space before them to flare white, then red, then yellow as the atmosphere within the smaller ship ignited and bloomed in a fiery shower. A wave front of debris and explosive gases rippled out in ever-widening spheres. Their shuttle shook in the explosive backwash.

There was an instant’s silence in the shuttle. Then, Strong said, without being prompted, “No damage.”

Halak swallowed his disgust with the lieutenant. He’d deal with Strong later. “Thex, what about that other ship?”

“She was too close, Commander,” said Thex. “The explosive backwash knocked out her shields. Her port engine’s damaged, and her inertial dampers are gone. I read environmental systems failure and ...”

Halak heard the dismay in the Andorian’s voice. “What is it, Lieutenant?”

“Imminent cascade reaction in their remaining engine. I estimate two minutes to critical. Their explosive bolts must be frozen, or they’d have blown it clear by now.”

“How many?”

Thex squinted at his readings. “Two life-forms.”

“Ryn?”

“I can’t tell. Too much background radiation from that other ship.”

Halak closed his eyes. “Did they get off a distress signal?”
Please, yes, yes.

There was a pause. Then Thex shook his head. “Even if they had, they’re too far out. There’s no way anyone would reach them in time.”

“Lifeboat?”

“Not that I can see, sir.”

“Damn,” Halak muttered. “All right, hail them, Thex.”

Strong gaped. “You’re not going
back
for them?”

Halak turned on him. “Of course I’m going back for them. They need our help. I gave you an order, Mr. Thex.”

“Aye sir.” Swallowing, Thex hesitated, looked at Strong.

“You have a problem, mister?” asked Halak.

“No, sir, it’s just,” Thex wet his lips, “well ...”

“Of
course,
there’s a problem!” Strong hissed. “They
fired
on us! We don’t know who they are, what they want!”

“Objection noted!” said Halak in a voice that dared Strong to contradict him. “Anything else?” When Strong said nothing, Halak jerked his head in an abrupt nod. “Good. Now, hail them, Thex!”

“Hailing. No response. They haven’t abandoned ship.”

“How much longer before we’re in range to beam them aboard?”

“Another twenty seconds. Estimate engine overload in thirty seconds.”

“Cutting it too damned close,” Strong murmured blackly. “Too close.”

“Stow it, Strong! Thex, tell them to prepare to be beamed aboard.”

Thex sent off the request. “They received our signal, Commander. No response.”

“You’re too close,” said Strong, his voice beginning to rise, “they’re going to blow, and you’re bringing us in too close!”

“Try again, Thex.” Then Halak heard Thex gasp. “What is it?”

“Commander, there’s an energy surge!”

“I knew it. They were playing dead, they’re powering up weapons!” Strong’s hand flashed over his firing controls. “Firing phasers!”

“No!” Halak shouted. He moved to override Strong’s phaser controls, too late. “No, Strong,
stop!”

Their phasers sizzled. Horrified, Halak watched as the blast caught the scout amidships and knifed through the hull, shredding it like tissue paper.

“What are you
doing?”
Halak screamed. For a wild, insane moment, he wanted to punch Strong in the jaw. “They weren’t targeting us!”

Strong’s eyes bulged. “I’m s-sorry. I thought they’d laid a trap, I thought they were playing dead, I thought ...”

“Commander!” It was Thex. “There she goes!”

“Damn!” Halak whirled around in time to see the shuttle go in two successive bursts. Frantically, he wrenched the shuttle about, trying to outrun the aftershocks. “Damn, damn!”

“Shock waves!” Thex cried.

The first shock wave caught them astern, the concussive force rippling over the ship and shaking them as if they were in the grip of a giant hand. Alarms screamed. Strong smacked hard against his console and rebounded to the deck with a cry of pain. Something behind Halak shorted; he heard a yelp from Thex, and there was a smell of singed wire and ozone and burnt flesh. Another shock wave slammed them amidships. Halak fought for control, but the ship bucked, heaved, yawed, and then the ship banked sharply left, their gravity cut out for an instant, and Halak went flying. He crashed to the deck, the force of the impact knocking the wind out of him.

For an instant, he simply stopped breathing. The ship
was spinning, and he felt his body flatten out against the starboard bulkhead. He knew, instantly: Their inertial dampers were gone. They were spiraling out of control.

Through a haze of pain, he heard the computer intone a warning.
“Warning. Hull shear stress approaching tolerance limits. Warning
...
”

Abandon ship.
Halak shook his vision clear.
We’ve got to abandon ship.

But he couldn’t move. His chest felt as if it was on fire, and he struggled, tried to get his burning lungs to pull in air. Finally, he drank in a great, wheezing gulp.

“Argh!” he cried. His neck arched, and he felt the muscles of his chest spasm. He labored to pull in another breath. “Strong,
Strong!”

The centrifugal force that had him plastered to the deck made it almost impossible for him to move his head. Achingly, inch by agonizing inch, he fought against the invisible hand that pinned him in place and pulled his head around until he was looking aft, toward the command console. He saw two things. Strong was sprawled in the space between the pilot and copilot chairs. And Thex was lying, facedown, on the deck, to his left and just out of reach. The Andorian wasn’t moving.

“Strong!” Halak wheezed. “Strong, we’re spinning counterclockwise. Shut down the starboard thrusters! Throttle up on the port thruster, break the spin!”

In an agony of suspense, Halak watched as Strong clawed his way up the back of his chair. It was like watching someone doing ballet in molasses. Strong fumbled at the controls.

“Shutting down starboard thrusters! Port thruster, engaged.
Now!”

Halak felt the ship quake. There was a shriek of protest from the computer. The bulkhead vibrated, and Halak felt the shudders running up and down his spine.