“Only because westarted it,” Archer shouted back. He looked over at Reed. “If we destroy their ship, the Romulans could use that fact as justification for mounting an attack against Earth, or even the rest of the Coalition.”
“But the Romulans have alreadycommitted acts of war against us,” Reed said.
“Technically and legally, they have not,” T’Pol said. “At least not yet. The Orionsabducted the Aenar, which makes themresponsible for those crimes. And the Romulans are legally entitled to regard us as invaders in their territory, and therefore as the aggressors.”
“Preposterous!”
Archer turned around in his chair. “Shran, shut up!” The azure‑hued warrior did just that, though he glowered angrily at Archer with eyes like blue‑white suns.
“Hold on to your chairs,” Mayweather said. “Incoming!” He pushed hard at several of the helm controls, and Archer felt Enterpriseturning hard to port as the inertial dampers and the artificial gravity running through the deck plates struggled to cope with the sudden velocity change. Archer held his breath and braced for impact, but none came.
“Good flying, Travis,” he said a moment later.
“Sir, we can’t evade their weapons forever,” Malcolm said, his tone plaintive. “And sooner or later reinforcements will arrive. We have got to withdraw.”
“Any luck on getting the Aenar, Moulton?” Archer asked, directing his voice toward the open‑channeled com unit.
“No, sir.”Moulton’s tone sounded stressed. “We still can’t break through their shroud. I thought I had a pattern lock on one of them, but it broke apart during transport. I…lost him.”
“I’m sure you did your best,” Archer said, feeling queasy at the idea that they had just killed one of the Aenar in the midst of what had begun as a fairly straightforward rescue mission.
He had to face the fact that they had run out of options. “Prepare to withdraw. We can’t stay here any longer.”
“No!” Shran unbuckled himself from the chair he had occupied and moved swiftly toward Archer.
“We don’t have much of a choice, Shran.”
“Yes, you do,” the Andorian said, his antennae ramrod stiff with anger. “You destroy both of the warships, we retrieve the Aenar, and then you destroy the transport as well. Leave no trace that we were ever here.”
“Do you really think they haven’t transmitted information about us back to their base already?” Archer asked. “If we destroy them, that willbe an act of war.”
“Captain?” Reed looked uncomfortable. “There is another factor we have to consider. If we can’t rescue the Aenar, and they remain in the hands of the Romulans, we knowthey will be used as weapons. Weapons against Earth, or another Coalition planet, or even some nonaligned world. We can’t let the Romulans keep them.”
“What are you suggesting?” Archer asked, though he was certain he already knew the answer.
“We can’tlet the Romulans keep them,” Reed repeated, more emphatically this time. “We can’t destroy the transport ship for political reasons. But we canuse the transporter to stop the Aenar from being used against us.”
“You can’t be serious!” Shran snarled at the tactical officer.
Theras approached them, his hand on the shoulder of the MACO trooper who had drawn near to Shran. “Captain, as much as it pains me to say this, your companion may be correct,” Theras said, his voice quavering. “I know that my people would rather be… sacrificedthan used as weapons to destroy others.”
“You know nothing,you coward!” Shran snarled, his fists clenching in rage. McCammon reached for him, but in that second, Shran drove the palm of his hand up and under the MACO’s chin, driving him back off his feet.
Before Archer could get to his feet, T’Pol had come between him and Shran. The Andorian swung at her, but she caught his hand, forcing it backward despite the powerful momentum of the blow.
Sometimes I forget how strong Vulcans are,Archer thought in a flash.
“Stop,”T’Pol said, speaking in a low growl. “I believe I have an alternative.”
Thirty‑Four
Friday, February 21, 2155
Rator II
TRIP THOUGHT CH’UIHV was finally about to pick up the disruptor pistol that lay on the table before him and end Ehrehin’s lengthy presentation with the finality of the grave.
Then the ground shook and the lights overhead dimmed, and a distant rumbling roar reverberated through the entire Ejhoi Ormiincomplex.
Ch’uihv leaped to his feet and began barking orders into an intercom unit built into the desktop–to no evident effect–then began ordering the guards in the room to find some answers, immediately. As Ch’uihv’s men scattered, Trip’s first thought was that one of the island’s volcanoes had conveniently decided to get frisky.
Then the floor beneath Trip’s chair shook again, with a hard, sharp impact that reminded Trip more of a phase‑cannon strike than any natural phenomenon he’d ever encountered.
Admiral Valdore,he thought, shoving himself out of his chair and rising awkwardly to his feet, his hands still bound tightly behind him. As unlikely as it was that the Romulan military had suddenly found this obscure world and mounted a rescue raid to recover Ehrehin in the proverbial nick, it was certainly a more believable scenario than that of an eons‑dormant volcano suddenly rising up in wrath at precisely the appropriate moment.
Trip moved toward the old man, concerned that the current situation might be too much for him. Despite the dim lighting, he could see that Ehrehin appeared to be only a little shaken. But he also knew that circumstances could very easily take a turn for the worse, and in no time flat. If Valdore doesn’t get his hands on Ehrehin, he’s going to make damned sure that nobody else gets their hands on him either.
He could hear the sharp reports of weapons fire echoing through some distant part of the complex, growing steadily louder as they approached. All at once, getting out of his manacles became a priority very nearly as urgent as breathing.
“Get back into your chair,” ordered a harsh male voice. A moment later, once of Ch’uihv’s guards, his dark paramilitary uniform making him nearly invisible in the low lighting, resolved himself from the surrounding shadows.
Trip could only hope that the other guards in the room, not to mention Ch’uihv himself, were too distracted by what was going on elsewhere in the complex to notice what he had just decided to do. I’m going to get killed anyway,he thought. Either by this guy or by Ch’uihv or by Valdore. So I guess this is the perfect time for a completely stupid and futile gesture.
“Sorry,” Trip said, taking a single backward step away from the approaching guard and the fragile scientist, moving toward the chair he’d just left behind. The guard continued moving in Trip’s direction.
Trip suddenly leaped forward, twisting his legs toward the guard, kicking him hard in the abdomen before both men went down hard. The guard’s head made a sickening thump against the unyielding floor, his body mostly breaking Trip’s fall, which could have injured him severely since his hands were still manacled behind him.
Looks like he wasn’t quite expecting a completely stupid and futile gesture,Trip thought, relieved that the guard wasn’t moving, at least for the moment. He immediately turned around and began fumbling with the fallen man’s belt, awkwardly seeking anything behind him that might be a set of manacle keys.
Damn. Damn. DAMN!At least a full minute ticked by with no results. On the plus side, he was reasonably certain now that neither Ch’uihv nor any other guards had remained in the room. Buoyed by that small boon, he continued fumbling with the guard’s belt while the sounds of the approaching firefight steadily intensified.