. . . Before they do the same thing to us.

Looking up from his sensor viewer, Spock said, “One of the vessels is decelerating.”

“It took a direct hit!” Sulu added, peering into his own scanner. “That last strike took out its forward shields and impacted its hull.”

When another strike connected with the Enterpriseshields, Kirk felt the deck shift, and he gripped the back of Chekov’s chair to maintain his balance. Something popped at or near the environmental control station on the bridge’s port side, and within a few seconds the unmistakable odor of a circuit burnout assailed Kirk’s nostrils. A glance in that direction told him that the officer manning that station, Lieutenant Medeiros, already had the situation under control, ensuring that any fire threat was contained.

“Damage report!” Kirk snapped.

Scott replied, “Our aft starboard shields are buckling, and we’re getting reports of overloads across the ship. I’m rerouting power to reinforce them, but they’ll give way if they take a couple more hits like that last one.”

“Remaining vessels are maintaining course,” Spock said, “though I’m detecting disruptions in the port deflector shields of the lead ship.”

Kirk tapped Chekov on the shoulder. “Target him and fire.”

“Aye, sir.” The ensign’s hands moved over the firing controls. Kirk watched the tactical readout on the main viewscreen charting the trajectory of the two torpedoes Chekov had dispatched, and a moment later the younger man pounded his fist on his console. “Both hits, sir!”

Spock said, “Affirmative. The ship’s port and forward shields are down, and I’m detecting damage to the vessel’s hull. It is dropping out of warp.”

“Captain!” Sulu snapped, and when Kirk looked up, the helm officer was pointing toward the screen. “The other two ships are veering off.”

Pushing himself away from Chekov’s station, Kirk asked, “What about it, Spock?”

“The two vessels are decelerating and changing course back toward their companions,” the Vulcan replied. “They may be attempting recovery operations.”

“Sulu, bring us out of warp,” Kirk ordered. “Uhura, hail the lead ship and tell them we’re maintaining station and won’t interfere in any attempt to aid those ships, but we stand ready to assist if they request it.” Looking to Spock, he saw his friend offer an almost imperceptible nod.

A moment later, Uhura swiveled in her seat, her expression one of concentration as she reached for the Feinberg receiver in her ear. “I’m picking up a response, sir, but it’s weak. Their communications array may have been damaged.” Her free hand played across her console before she added, “You’ll want to hear this, Captain.”

“On speakers,” Kirk said. Uhura made the necessary adjustments, and the bridge’s intercom system flared to life with the sounds of a rather annoyed Tholian.

“Maintain your distance, Starfleet vessel,”it said, in the high-pitched, filtered whine that was a characteristic of translated Tholian speech. “There is nothing you can do that will mitigate the damage caused by your ignorant meddling. You have ignored our every warning, and now you will pay for your arrogance. We will drive the Federation from this space and show no mercy. Flee, humans, for your time as a nuisance to us is at an end.”There was an audible snap as the transmission ended, and Kirk turned to Uhura, who already was examining various indicators on her console before she looked up and shook her head.

“They severed the link, sir.”

Spock added, “Sensors are picking up indications of transporter activity, Captain. So far as I am able to determine, neither damaged Tholian vessel suffered any casualties.”

“I suppose that’s something,” Kirk mused, more to himself than anyone else. His thoughts were focused on the terse message transmitted by the Tholian leader. Drive the Federation from this space?“They were on a course for Vanguard,” he said as he stepped toward the railing separating him from Spock’s station. “Their message can mean only one thing: the Tholians really are planning to attack the station. Nogura knows about it, which is why he called us back.”

Nodding in apparent agreement, the first officer turned from his console and clasped his hands behind his back. “Such an act would require a sizable offensive force. Perhaps the ships we encountered were traveling to join with such an armada.”

Kirk, already resting his hands on the railing, felt his grip tightening as he contemplated the possibilities. Starbase 47, though possessing considerable defensive capabilities, was still a stationary target a long way from home. Support from other starships would be limited, at best, and that was if Admiral Nogura’s people had been able to effect repairs to the Sagittariusand the Endeavour, both damaged during their flight from the Iremal Cluster. If the Tholians were massing an attack force to throw at Vanguard, nearly every other Starfleet ship with the realistic ability to come to the station’s assistance would be too far out of range.

Except one.

“Mister Sulu,” Kirk said, new resolve beginning to well up from within him, “get us back to Starbase 47. Maximum warp, Scotty, until we get there, or we blow apart.”

EIGHT

Stardate 5829.6

Starbase 12

Kirk watched as Nogura, apparently needing a change of pace from the Saurian spirits they both had enjoyed to this point, retrieved a saucer holding a cup of steaming tea from the food slot at the rear of the office. Lifting the cup from the saucer, Nogura brought it to his nose and inhaled the tea’s aroma, and his expression softened as a sigh escaped his lips.

“Last chance before I sit back down,” Nogura said, prior to taking a sip of the tea.

Holding up a hand, Kirk shook his head. “No, thank you, sir.” Despite its allure, he also had opted against enjoying any more of the admiral’s exquisite brandy, not wanting to risk any real compromising of his faculties. Perhaps Nogura felt the same way, though Kirk suspected the older man never would admit any such thing.

Nogura again sipped from his cup before moving toward his chair behind the desk. “As you rightly surmised, we were well aware of the potential for the Tholians to attack the station. What we didn’t count on was bringing them down on our own heads.” Reclaiming his seat, he placed the cup and saucer on the desk. “Xiong discovered that activating the array and trying to direct its power had one major side effect: it transmitted a signal in such a manner that it was heard, or received, or feltby everyTholian, everywhere.From that, they knew what we’d done, and what we were capable of doing.” Shrugging, he added, “Neat trick, considering even we didn’t know what we might be able to do with the array.

“Xiong was against the experiments, of course, worried that we were exploiting a sentient race against their will for our own ends.” Nogura shook his head. “Even when things were at their worst, Xiong still looked for some way, any way, to find a peaceful solution and a means of somehow communicating with the Shedai. He was against the notion of simply plundering their technology, at least not so long as there were representatives with whom we might share a dialogue.” Blowing out his breath, Nogura leaned back in his chair. “I’m as realistic and even cynical as the next person, but if he’d been given enough time, I’d like to think he would’ve succeeded.”

Kirk nodded. Though his interactions with the young lieutenant had been few and infrequent, they still were sufficient for him to form an opinion on the man’s character. “We’d all probably be better off with more people like Ming Xiong.”