“Sir, I’ll do it,”another voice broke in. “If I can.”

Kyle thought the voice sounded familiar. It was not a voice he’d heard often, certainly not recently. It was deeper, more mature than he remembered it. But the sound of it, the valor he heard in those few words, filled him with immense pride.

Will felt every eye on the bridge burning into him. Captain Pressman regarded him levelly, as if trying to fit a new perception around the old ones he had already established.

“You can’t, Ensign,” Pressman said. “It would have to be the third-in-command of the ship.”

“Well, it’s got to be soon, sir. We’re already within range.”

Before Will finished his sentence, the officer to his immediate left said, “This is Lieutenant Commander Shinnareth Bestor.” The operations officer’s voice was flat, betraying no emotion at all. “Initiate auto-destruct sequence.”

“Verbal confirmation requested,”the computer replied. “Captain Pressman?”

“Confirmed,” Pressman stated.

“Lieutenant Commander Bestor?”

“Confirmed,” the operations officer said.

“What is the desired interval until destruction, Captain Pressman?”

Pressman glanced at Will, who checked his instruments quickly and then held up three fingers. “Three minutes,” the captain said.

“Auto-destruct sequence initiated,”the computer intoned. “Destruction in two minutes, fifty-eight seconds.”

Will wiped at his forehead. His heart pounded in his chest and the rush of blood in his ears almost drowned out the other noises on the bridge. Everything except the computer’s soulless voice, counting down the last few seconds until the ship blew itself up. The force of the explosion, he remembered from the Academy, would be roughly the equivalent of a thousand photon torpedoes.

At least it’ll be quick,he thought. Probably fairly painless. Probably even a relief after sitting around waiting for it for three minutes.

“What’s going on up there?” someone asked plaintively.

“You can hear as well as the rest of us,” Bonner responded. “They’re waiting.”

Kyle knew it wasn’t that simple. The delay inherent even in subspace radio meant that the Pegasusmight already be destroyed. He wondered what they’d hear on this end—static? An electronic hum? Or would they first, momentarily, hear the thunder as the explosions ripped through his son’s vessel?

“The Ven are getting awfully close,” Admiral Paris observed. “They’re right there—definitely within firing range.”

One more thing to worry about,Kyle thought. He had hoped the Pegasussituation would be resolved before the Ven showed up and further complicated matters. Maybe if that first officer hadn’t chickened out ...

“Destruction in forty-five seconds,”he heard. He swallowed hard. This was getting too close.

“They’ve cut the tractor,” Bestor said excitedly.

“Will, engines on full,” Pressman ordered. “Take us out, now.”

“Yes, sir!” Will shot back, already implementing the command.

“Destruction in fifteen seconds,”the computer announced.

“Computer, this is Captain Erik Pressman. Abort auto-destruct sequence.” He swiveled about in his chair. “Commander?”

“Computer, this is Lieutenant Commander Shinnarerh Bestor. Abort auto-destruct sequence.” Will noted that the operations officer sounded relieved. He was feeling a little better about things himself, but he knew they weren’t out of the woods yet.

“Sir, they’re firing on us!” Bethany Rungius said.

“All power to shields,” Pressman replied. “Don’t worry about returning fire.”

“Shields are up, sir.”

The first volley from the Omistolian ship hit them astern. The bridge rocked, lights flickered, but the shields held.

“They didn’t want us to blow up right next to them,” Captain Pressman noted. “But they have no problem letting us get a little farther away and then blowing us up themselves.”

Will concentrated on putting distance between themselves and the Omistolian ship. He knew their greatest danger had been with the Omistolians themselves—if they had not been scanning the Pegasusclosely enough to notice when their auto-destruct sequence started, they would never have shut off the tractor beam. But now they were one little science ship in the middle of a war between two enemy fleets, so their chances still didn’t look that promising.

“Sir,” Rungius reported. “The Ven ships are firing.”

“Brace yourselves,” Pressman commanded. Everyone did, but no barrage landed.

“Sir,” Rungius corrected. “The Ven are firing on the Omistolian ship that held us—on Oxxreg’s ship!”

Will blew out a sigh of relief. The kilometers were passing by the second, thousands upon thousands of them. They weren’t out of range yet, but apparently Oxxreg had bigger problems right now. Captain Pressman ordered that Oxxreg’s ship be put on the main viewscreen, and the whole bridge watched as four Ven ships fired upon it at once, green beams lighting up the sky. Then the Omistolian ship exploded, parts of it spiraling out into space, trailing smoke. The concussion wave from the blast caught up to them a few moments later, pushing them even farther away from the battle.

“Mr. Riker, ahead warp six, if you please,” Captain Pressman said.

Will laughed. “I do please, sir. I please very much. Warp six it is.” He moved his fingers across the control panel like an experienced hand, and reveled in the fact that he, a kid from Valdez, was at the conn of a starship.

And that it could fly really, really fast.

Chapter 38

Kathryn Janeway came back into the situation room just as the cheers were dying out. She walked straight to Kyle’s side, barely sparing a glance for anyone else. “It looks like I missed something,” she said. “Is everything all right?”

“Everything’s just fine,” he told her with a grin. He patted the back of the chair next to him. “Have a seat, Ensign, and tell me what you found out.”

She spoke quietly into his ear for a couple of minutes, and Kyle felt his gaze drawn to the person of Vice Admiral Bonner, who, alone among the individuals in the room, seemed not to be celebrating the Pegasus’sescape.

Admiral Owen Paris came over to Kyle, giving Janeway an inquisitive look but saying nothing, and clapped Kyle on the back. “Congratulations, Kyle,” he said. “It looks like you’ve still got the touch.”

“Thank you, Owen,” Kyle said. He spoke louder than was strictly necessary, but he did it on purpose, wanting to attract attention. “I’d like to ask you something, though.”

“What is it?” Owen said. He looked a little taken aback, though he must have known that Kyle had been using Janeway for some private purpose.

“I’d like to know who it was that ordered the Pegasusinto that space in the first place. I understand they went in looking for the pirates, but I believe they were acting on intelligence supplied by Starfleet Command. Was it Vice Admiral Bonner?”

Owen hesitated for a moment before answering, as if unsure what can of worms he might be opening. “Yes,” he said finally. “Yes, it was. How did you ... why do you ask?”

“I thought it might have been,” Kyle said. He noticed that by now he had the attention of everyone in the room, including Bonner, who stared at him with undisguised contempt.

“I don’t know if I appreciate this line of conversation,” Bonner objected. “This man is a civilian; what business is it of his whether or not I ordered that? Anyway, we had no reason to doubt the intelligence.”

“He’s right, Kyle,” Admiral Paris said. He still sounded hesitant, as if he didn’t want to shut Kyle down, but he needed to maintain the proper protocols. “Is this going somewhere?”

Kyle rose from his seat. He trusted Owen, and because he did he trusted Ensign Janeway. But he sure hoped her information was accurate.