“Compensating for atmospheric interference…” The Clarion’s deck officer worked his console. “Set. I read a metallic mass in the upper atmosphere, four thousand kellipates distant, quadrant blue.”
“Weapons,” said Colonel Li. “I want synchronous fire. Program for salvo barrage, phasers and missile tubes one through four.”
Lonnic’s fingers gripped the cushioned back of the colonel’s command chair. Standing behind him appeared to be the only place on the assault ship’s bridge where she wasn’t in someone’s way. She saw the formation of the reprisal fleet on one of Li’s consoles. The two scoutships in Minister Jas’s employ were keeping abeam of the bigger military ships. Their forward-mounted phase-cannon turrets lacked the power of the weapons on the battle vessels, but in concert they could still be deadly.
“Merculite warheads loaded in all tubes,” reported the deck officer. “The marauder is reacting. They’re reeling in their observation pod. I’m reading an aspect change.”
“Might be contemplating a dive into the troposphere,” Li said, half to himself. “Can’t have that.” He looked up.
“Sensors! Go to full power, active sweep. Rattle their decks a little.”
“Colonel,” said Lonnic, “are you going to fire on them without any formal declaration?”
He didn’t bother to look at her. “I don’t recall the people on Cemba being given any warning, do you?”
“No…but if the crew of that ship are not responsible, would you want it said that Bajorans showed the same callous disregard for life that the bombers did?”
Li grunted. “Ms. Lonnic, I don’t give a damn what is thought about me. Our space was invaded and an atrocity was committed. If I had my way, it would be classified for what it is. An act of war.”
“Colonel!” Her voice rose. She saw whatever shreds of authority her position as a ministerial adjutant gave her eroding by the second in the face of Li’s grim intent. “We have nothing but circumstantial evidence that the Tzenkethi were even involved!”
“Sensor sweep complete,” said the deck officer. “I can confirm the presence of volatile stocks aboard the alien vessel, sir. Refined triceron, military grade.”
Li looked up at her. “There’s your smoking gun. Do you want me to wait for a signed confession?”
“Many warships carry triceron explosives,” she insisted.
“Colonel, at least offer them a chance to surrender. Otherwise, we’ll never know the truth about what happened.” Lonnic saw the hesitation in his manner and she pushed on. “There could be more devices on Bajor, a network of terror cells, other marauders…There might be valuable intelligence.”
At last the commander nodded. “I’ll admit, the thought had occurred to me.” He gestured to the deck officer. “Suspend firing countdown. Get me communications. Tell the Tzenkethi, stand to and prepare to be boarded.”
“Transmitting,” came the reply.
Lonnic felt cold sweat prickling the back of her neck as she watched the tactical plot on the portside viewscreen. The alien ship did not reply; instead it turned, rising up through the exosphere of the gas giant, gathering itself in.
“Aspect change!” shouted the deck officer. “Marauder entering attack configuration!”
“It seems we have an answer,” Li told her. “Weapons, track and fire—”
On the screen a plume of brilliant white plasma lanced up from the rising shape of the alien ship and flashed past the wing of the Clarion.
A warning shot?The question echoed through her thoughts, even as the realization struck Lonnic that the blast had been anything but that. On the tactical plot, the glyph symbolizing the Kylenblinked twice and vanished. Lonnic’s heart leapt into her throat. There were eight men on that ship, and she knew every one of them.
The scoutship’s fate was sealed when her captain, inexperienced in confrontations with hostiles, moved too far out of the Clarion’s formation. The territory of the Tzenkethi—which the aliens classed as their ship and a generous measure of space around it—was being invaded and their automatic reaction was to take up a belligerent posture. The voices of the invaders they heard over their translator matrix heaped insult upon insult, daring to demand access to the marauder itself. The Tzenkethi crew’s reaction was instant and lethal.
With a near full-energy bank behind it, the plasma projector released a murderous warshot that tore through the Kylen’s shields. Gaseous matter with the temperature of a solar core bored through duranium hull plating and opened the small scoutship to the void. The Kylendisintegrated, speared on a rod of sunfire.
The second scout, the Pajul,peeled off and showed the alien her impulse grids, gaining distance as the Tzenkethi pivoted and charged for a second strike. The alien moved swiftly, turning to avoid a barrage of missile fire from the assault vessels as they detonated in a chain of proximity-fused explosions. The blast wall tore open the pilot pod trailing on its tether, killing the occupant, and slammed a kinetic shock through the marauder’s hull.
Another plasma spear probed out after the Pajul,missing its mark.
Lonnic clung to a stanchion as the Clarion’s gravity compensators struggled to keep up with the ship’s swift maneuvers. She pressed herself against the cold metal, willing herself to diminish. What am I doing here?She cried silently. I can’t stop this! I thought I could, but there’s nothing I can do!A childhood fear surged through her as the assault ship rocked under impacts from the Tzenkethi weapons. Lonnic remembered the ghost stories of her grandfather, of the tales of the dead lost in space who became angry borhyasthat drew on the souls of those about to perish. She felt fear crowding in on her, her blood turning to ice water. In that moment she understood that all the power her esteemed rank could muster on Bajor was utterly worthless to her here; and in her mind’s eye she saw Kubus Oak’s self-indulgent smile, as if he were watching her life tick away and taking amusement from it.
A panel across the bridge flashed with electric discharge and a body fell away from it, skin crisped black-red and wreathed in sweet-smelling smoke. Lonnic fought back a retch from deep in her stomach.
“The Pajul’s taken a glancing hit,” said a voice. She couldn’t be sure who had spoken. “Venting plasma. They’ve dumped their warp core, but they still have mobility.”
“We can’t help them,” Li retorted. “Bring us about, order all ships to put power to weapons. Sweep in and rake the target!”
“Yes, sir!”
The pit of Lonnic’s gut dropped out as the Clarionturned sharply again.
The inner walls of the Tzenkethi ship’s hull were studded with powerful field nodes that reinforced structural integrity and internal gravity envelopes. It was this design aspect that lent a deadly agility to the marauder, allowing the starship to perform actions that craft several times smaller would struggle with. The marauder pivoted, shedding the energy of velocity in a wash of radiation, snapping about to face the two Bajoran assault ships bearing down upon it. Phaser fire ripped across its shields, turning the transparent ovoid barrier orange where each shot landed. Backwash from emitter overloads ran down the length of the marauder even as the ship powered forward. At the last moment, the Bajoran ships broke away in climbing turns—but too slow to avoid the scintillating nimbus of the main plasma cannon. The Glyhrond, Clarion’s sister ship, lost meters of ventral hull plating as the blast blew out her deflectors and scorched an ugly wound along her belly.
Still in a turning fight, Clarioncame on as the Tzenkethi warship crossed over the pole of a rocky moon in close orbit around the gas giant. The marauder angled after the Pajul,snapping after the wounded craft for an easy kill.