The Lost Era: Well of Souls: Star Trek (45 page)

“What about shields?”

“Twenty percent, max. But ...”

“That will have to do. Listen. I want to try something. Two words: Kolvoord Starburst.”

An instant’s silence. “Captain, I don’t have the maneuverability. There’s no way I’ll be able to cross your flight path and ignite my plasma trail without ramming into ...”

“You and I won’t have to get that close. Listen. It’s the same principle, but instead of us crossing each other’s flight paths, I want us to pull closer to the Cardassian and concentrate ...” It took her five seconds to explain, and two for him to agree.

“My God.” Stern was shaking her head as Garrett dropped the ship at Z-minus-70 and brought the shuttle around. “You’re both certifiable. You are going to get us barbecued.”

“Not if I can barbecue them first.” Rushing toward the Cardassian scout, Garrett targeted the space behind the vessel. She brought her phasers on line, full power. “Shields at maximum. Commander, on my mark, in three, two, one,
fire!”

Garrett’s phaser beams sizzled across space. The energy from Halak’s phaser joined hers. There was a split second where absolutely nothing happened—when Garrett watched the Cardassian plowing through plasma whorls and ionized gas toward Halak’s shuttlepod. Then there was a blinding flash, so bright and quick that the automatic polarizing filters didn’t have a chance to snap into place and Garrett winced, threw her hand up to shield her eyes. Then she watched as the space ignited behind the Cardassian, streaming up the Cardassian’s vented plasma tail the way fire licks along a stream of kerosene. The space behind and around the Cardassian exploded in a fireball, and the scout disappeared in an orange-yellow maelstrom of ionized gas and ignited plasma.

“Shock waves!” Stern cried.

A wall of ionizing radiation crashed against the shuttle like water barreling through a broken dam. Something shorted just behind Garrett’s head; she smelled ozone and scorched metal.

“Jase!” she shouted, battling for control of the ship. She watched, helplessly, as her port maneuvering thruster went out, and her starboard thruster flickered.

But her son was already out of his seat. “I got it!” he cried, grabbing for an extinguisher. Wrenching it free of the bulkhead, he thumbed the extinguisher on and opened up with a short burst once, twice. He staggered back as the shuttle rolled then canted on its short axis.

“I’m losing her, I’m losing her!” Garrett shouted. She tried slowing the ship’s spin, but she had no thruster control.

The hull began to vibrate, the consoles to rattle. “Shields and phasers off-line!” Stern reported, shouting above the din. “Rachel, your inertial dampers are failing.”

Garrett’s teeth gritted. “You need to
tell
me this?” she grunted, wrestling with the controls. “We’re going to break apart.”

Then she heard Stern gasp. “Oh, my Lord.”

Garrett looked up. “Oh, God,” she said, going numb with horror. “Oh, my God.”

There, like some phoenix arising from the ashes, was the Cardassian. The scout barreled through the firewall and, although Garrett thought it couldn’t possibly
not
be damaged in some way—for God’s sake, that was the equivalent of several thousands of megatons going off—the Cardassian wasn’t hurt enough.

She felt Jase’s hand on her shoulder. Garrett slid her arm around her son and pulled him tight. “I’m sorry, son,” she said.

Jase’s face was pale but calm. “It’s okay, Mom.”

Garrett pulled Jase’s head down to her chest. “Don’t look, baby. Don’t look.”

The Cardassian filled space until that was all Garrett saw.

Dear God.
Garrett uttered a silent prayer.
Make it quick, make it
...

In the next instant, there was a bright flash, and then space blew apart. And then the Cardassian was spinning out of control.

“Phasers,
fire!”
Bat-Levi shouted.

“Aye!” Glemoor’s voice was gleeful.

They watched as the
Enterprise’s
phasers lapped at the space around the Cardassian, setting off another plasma burst.

“Report!”

“
That
got their attention!” Glemoor’s voice was taut with excitement. “Breaking off pursuit, coming around. Impulse engines only! I read that their axial stabilizers are down fifty percent.”

“Those impulse engines,” Kodell said from his station, “they’re fluctuating.”

“Damage?”

“
Very likely.”

“Mr. Glemoor, are they still with us?”

“On our tail!”

“I like this better and better,” said Bat-Levi. She took the command chair. “Bulast, hail the captain—and try to raise the
T’Pol.
Mr. Castillo, bring us about. Head directly for the brown star.”

“
For
it?” Castillo twisted his chair around. “Commander, with all due respect, don’t you want to lead them away ...”

Bat-Levi silenced him with a look. “Full. Impulse. Now. Kodell, reinforce those aft shields, those Cardassians are likely ...” She was interrupted as the ship vibrated. “Likely to fire,” she finished wryly. “Damage report, Mr. Glemoor.”

“Disrupter cannon fire. Aft shields at ninety percent. Minor hull damage, Decks 15 and 18.”

“Order evacuation of all personnel away from the outer hull areas. Kodell?”

“Already doing it,” said Kodell. “Reinforcing aft shields. The problem is, it goes both ways. We try to burn up space around them ...”

“And they try to do the same to us,” Bat-Levi said. “Understood. Steal me power and buy me time, Kodell. Mr. Bulast, they getting off any distress calls?”

“Not that I read, but I’ve got the captain.”

Bat-Levi spared Kodell a quick glance. “On audio.”

Garrett’s voice sputtered through static. “
Enterprise,
just what the hell are you doing?”

“Disobeying orders, Captain.” Bat-Levi couldn’t help it; she grinned, insanely, and wondered what Tyvan would say about
that
as a manifestation of her anxiety.

“You are
not
to engage the Cardassians! I repeat you are
not
to engage!”

Bat-Levi raised her voice. “I’m sorry, Captain, you’re breaking up. What’s your status?”

“They’re firing again!” Glemoor shouted.

“Evasive maneuvers! Hold your fire, Mr. Glemoor!”

The ship rattled and lurched. “Keep those stabilizers online!” Bat-Levi ordered.

“Switching to backup systems,” Kodell reported, “firming up.” Then he shook his head. “Stabilizers read nominal but those aft shields, they’re at eighty percent. It’s not the Cardassian himself; it’s what he can do with the plasma. Hull breach reported on Decks 23 and 24. Force fields up, damage control parties en route.”

Then Garrett’s voice came back. “I heard that.” There was a moment of dead silence, and Bat-Levi thought they really
had
lost contact. She was about to order Bulast to get Garrett back when Garrett continued. “You get this, Commander, loud and clear. You are
not
to engage. Do you copy?”

Garrett’s tone was ominous, her meaning crystal clear. Bat-Levi swallowed. “Perfectly. And I promise: I won’t fire a shot at them. Now, please, what’s your status?”

Garrett rattled off her damage. “And my maneuvering thrusters are gone. Shields were too, but we’ve managed to coax fifteen percent. Life support’s fine, for all the good it does.”

Kodell spoke up. “Captain, if you shut down life support and get into your suits, you can steal power to reinforce your shields.”

“Will I need them?”

He and Bat-Levi exchanged glances. “I’d recommend it for the time being,” he said. “Can you relay to the commander?”

“Yes.” Another pause. “Bat-Levi, tell me you have a plan.”

“Yes, Captain, and ...” Bat-Levi laid the plan out. She waited in an agony of suspense then, her lips dry, her heart racing. If the captain didn’t agree, Bat-Levi wouldn’t do it-even if the captain said great, fine, do it, but forget that near-warp transport stuff, are you crazy—because, quite simply, she wasn’t about to kill her captain.

After a few seconds that seemed like days, Garrett’s voice, tinged with static, came on. “Take care of my ship, Bat-Levi. Anything happens to her, I swear that when I get back aboard, I’ll bust you down so fast you’ll think you’ve been greased.”

Bat-Levi didn’t even have time to feel relief. “Aye.
Enterprise
out. Mr. Bulast, any response from
T’Pol?”

“Negative, Commander. She’s receiving, but she’s ignoring us.”

“Damn. Keep trying; we’ve got to get her to talk to us.” Bat-Levi spun the command chair back toward the helm. “Mr. Castillo, distance from Cardassian scout.”

“Seven thousand kilometers, and closing. Shall I accelerate?”

Bat-Levi breathed in deep. “Negative. Cut speed to one-half.”

Castillo’s back stiffened, but he complied without a word of protest. “One-half impulse, aye.”

Bat-Levi punched at the command companel. “Transporter room, reroute transporter control to the bridge.” She looked back at Kodell. “You can handle both ships? All three, if we raise
T’Pol?”

“The captain and Halak do their job,” said Kodell, his hands flying over his controls, bringing the transporter online, “I’ll do mine. Like you said, I’m good.”

“Excellent.” She turned away as Kodell ordered a medical team to the transporter room. “Bulast?”

“Still nothing from
T’Pol
.”

Bat-Levi debated a half second. “It can’t be helped. We don’t have the time to waste. Mr. Kodell?”

“Vent tubes five, seven, and eight at maximal capacity.”

“Stand by to vent. All available power to the shields, Mr. Kodell, I don’t want them to so much as burp. Glemoor, arm photon torpedoes one and four. Proximity detonation.”

If the Naxeran had any reservations, he didn’t show them. His movements were quick, economical. “Photon torpedoes armed. Three-second delay.”

“Mr. Castillo, on my mark, bring the ship about, hard starboard, reverse course, and accelerate to warp two. Take us right down their throat, Mr. Castillo.”

She saw Glemoor nudge Castillo and wink. “Hold onto your hat,” Glemoor said.

“Uh-huh,” said Castillo, his tone clearly indicating that, perhaps, he ought to kiss his ass good-bye instead.

On the viewscreen, Bat-Levi saw the brown star loom closer and closer. The plasma streamers, the ones created by the tug of the neutron star, unfurled like the thick bodies of twin serpents.

“Almost,” she said, and her good hand gripped the arm of her command chair. She felt the hard edge of plastic polymers bite into her skin, but the pain was good.

“Cardassian’s closing,” said Glemoor. “Six thousand five hundred kilometers. Six-three.”

The ship hobbled, righted. “Passing into gravity well,” said Glemoor. “Cardassian right behind, four thousand nine hundred kilometers, taking the bait, pushing his speed up! Three-eight, two-nine ... he’s close enough for a shot! One thousand kilometers!”

“Now!”
Bat-Levi was on her feet. “Kodell, vent tubes five, seven, eight! Drop shields!”

“Venting! Dropping shields!”

“Bulast, signal the captain and Commander Halak! Glemoor, fire photon torpedoes, proximity detonation!”

“Torpedoes away!”

Bat-Levi’s teeth were bared. “Kodell, activate transporter! Mr. Castillo, hard starboard, go to warp two ...
now!”

“Aye, hard starboard!” Castillo reflexively grabbed onto his console. “Reversing course! Warp
two!”

The space around the ship elongated then compressed upon itself as the warp bubble initialized. And then everything happened quickly and precisely the way Bat-Levi had imagined. The
Enterprise
hurtled starboard, its nascent warp field intensifying, expanding the gravity well of the brown star, and then the
Enterprise
wheeled about, shooting past the Cardassian and literally dragging gravity with it. The expanding wavefront slammed into the Cardassian; Bat-Levi watched the scout shimmy, stagger. And then, the coup de grace: The
Enterprise’s
photon torpedoes detonated. The plasma streamers whirling off the brown star ignited into a fury of red plasma flame that propagated forward and back. The brown star flared and bulged and began to break apart.

The Cardassian’s hull sheered, split—and then the Cardassian scout imploded.

“Yes!” Castillo cried, pumping his fists like a maniac. “Yes!”

It was the cue everyone on the bridge had been waiting for. The bridge erupted in relieved laughter, Bat-Levi’s included. Glemoor preened his frills over and over, and Castillo kept whooping, “Yes! Yes!”

But Kodell—Bat-Levi suddenly froze—he hadn’t said ... the
captain
...

“Kodell,” Bat-Levi said, urgently, turning so quickly her servos squalled, and she almost lost her balance. “Kodell, report! Did we get them?”

“Commander.” Kodell was standing, hands clasped behind his back and quiet triumph written on his face. “Confirm transport, five individuals—alive and well.”

Oh, thank you, God.
Bat-Levi felt weak and she backed up, groping blindly for the command chair, swiveling the chair so she could sit. With the smallest of sighs, Bat-Levi slid back, and her servos, for once, didn’t make a sound. She felt eyes on her, and she looked up—and into Kodell’s smiling face.