The Indigo system, USS Albuquerque.
"Enter", summoned Lassiter in response to the door chime. He was in the
briefing room and having a damned good pace. Normally when he was angry, he
would stay in his quarters and mull things over until he cooled down.
But of course his cabin had been wrecked and like most of the crew he was
having to rough it until they could get back to dry-dock for repairs. At
least the briefing room offered some privacy so his pacing would not be seen
by the crew.
Lassiter quickly ceased his pacing and composed himself as the door opened
with its characteristic swish to reveal his second in command. The big
Proximan entered the room.
"Message just in from Domwaltz. Our estimates werrre correct. The skywatch
has been dispatched and will arrrrive on schedule. Fourrr otherrr vessels
arrre following. The Frrrigates Hunt and Hughes should arrive thrrree days
laterrr, and then the Nelson’s grrroup and the Baltimorrre thrrree days
afterrr that. They also rrreport that this is the second Rrromulan
incurrrsion this month. A similarrr forrrce to this was barely beaten back
frrrom Sligo."
The Proximan paused before continuing, "You arrre agitated. Perrrhaps I
should come back at anotherrr time?"
Lassiter made a wry grin. "It’s that obvious is it?"
Tigg gave a kind of purring snort, the Proximan equivalent of a chuckle.
"You may have been able to make the prrretense in frrront of humans, but
yourrr rrrace gives off mood scents that my kind can pick up."
Lassiter raised a questioning eyebrow. "Are you telling my that you can read
B.O? So what is it saying now?"
This elicited a throaty roar. "Not rrread as such, just... pick up on things.
Most life forrrms excrrrete them, and I have been in the prrresence of
humans long enough to be able to rrread them with rrreasonable accuracy."
She paused as if giving her own words extreme consideration then continued.
"Though in truth I can rrread verrry little frrrom Engineerrr De’Sault. The
garrrlic tends to mask it."
She stretched, partially unsheathing her claws in a mannerism that Lassiter
new indicted that the conversation was taking a more serious turn.
"At prrresent you are giving off the scent of... how do I say it... one who
challenges for leaderrrship of the prrride and has been defeated, but will
challenge again. It is difficult to put in human terrrms."
Lassiter snorted. "Close enough that I get the picture." He had just had his
first face to face meeting with the Indigo Wing Commander over the commlink,
and while the Inigo were grateful for Federation help, they had insisted
that Federation reinforcements would defer to overall Indigo command. Gr’alk
had even cited Federation doctrine with regard to honoring the sovereignty
of independent races, even though the Indigo were only a few months away
from full Federation membership.
Tigg remained quiet and allowed the silence to grow, giving her Captain time
to get things off his chest if he wanted to. She was not disappointed.
"Don’t they realise the danger here?" he began. "We aren’t playing games!
That’s a bloody invasion fleet!" He gesticulated towards the wall, in some
vague way indicting the Romulan fleet out there.
"I believe they are well awarrre of the dangerrr, otherrrwise theirrr
prrrevious commanderrr would not have orderrred the attack," Tigg pointed
out.
"Which is exactly why they shouldn’t be so pig headed! They’ve got
practically no combat experience, and yet Gr’alk wants to lead a defence
where he’s only going to get one shot at getting it right. If he stuffs it,
it’s bye bye homeworld."
Tigg paused again, allowing the pause to bring the pace and heat of the
conversation down before she continued.
"We have a saying back at home. It looses a lot of subtle context in
translation but it goes something like ‘Even the pride leader was at one
time a cub on his first hunt".
Lassiter’s response was filled with more sracasm than his exec deserved, but
at the moment he didn’t care. "That was subtle," he sneered. "You’re saying
that he should be given the chance so he can learn by his mistakes? I’m not
sure that this is an appropriate time."
Proximan regarded human through lazy, half shut eyes as the tip of her tail
flicked. "I did say that some of the context was lost. It also implies that
there are other more experienced members in the hunt, watching and waiting
to step in if the cub gets in too much trouble."
Lassiter decided it was time to be mollified. The fact that there was almost
five hundred kilos of feline standing in front of him that was starting to
get annoyed may have had a bearing on the decision. He decided that a
change in topic was very much in order.
"Do you think we can stop the Romulans in time?" he asked.
"I believe so," Tigg responded. "Misterrr Blairrr’s theatrrrics at the helm
seem to have had an impact. They cerrrtainly do not apprrreciate having a
crrruiserrr in their wake. We can herrrd them almost at our leisurrre,
though they can rrreturrrn to theirrr trrrue courrrse at will. Howeverrr
everrry courrrse change they make effectively halves theirrr speed. At
prrresent, we now have to delay them by anotherrr five hourrrs and seven
minutes minimum and we have overrr twelve days in which to do it. Unless the
Rrromulans vastly change theirrr tactics, then yes, we will interrrcept them
in time. If we arrre able to halt them then therrre may even be time for the
crrruisers to arrrrive".
Lassiter nodded as he considred this.
"Lets just hope we can then."
* * * * * *
IKN Northern Fleet, Territories Edge system.
Gel’veg noted the sensor light blinking for his attention as he wrestled
with the helm of the damaged cruiser. A minor gravitic anomaly. In the midst
of battle and with half the controls on the smashed panel dead, he didn’t
really have time to take his attention away from the task of flying the
ship, but even before this thought had registered, reflexes born of years of
training were already in action. Juggling engine power levels with one hand,
his other tapped in the codes for a console diagnostic, checking to make
sure the sensor reading was sound rather than a malfunction of the fire
blackened control baord.
The light remained. Forcing back a snarl, he cast the sensor net out to map
the contact. It was across the warp point from them, beyond where the D7
Basilisk was chewing up the rear of the Alliance fleet, potentially close
enough that the skirmish could wander close to it. It wouldn’t do to ram the
ship into an unmapped asteroid at two thirds battle speed.
The sensor reading cleared and reported back its data.
"T’cham Bak! New contact at the far side of the Basilisk, bearing off their
starboard flank at twenty seven hundred Kalacams. Hydran battle group, a
destroyer and three frigates." He paused to turn an d look into B’moth’s
eyes at the weapons console. "They are making a full speed attack run."
The Emperor merely grunted. "B’moth to the fleet, you have your orders. Lock
weapons on the Kzinti."
The second scowled as he returned to his board. It was the communication
officer who spoke next.
"Incoming transmission from the Basilisk. They request permission to target
the new Hydran vessels."
"Denied," replied B’moth blandly. "The Hydrans are outclassed and not our
prime threat. I want the Kzinti broken."
There was a pregnant pause as the comms officer cleared his throat, then
said, "Emperor, with due respect, the Basili..."
His voice rising to a bellowing crescendo, B’moth stormed his reply,
slamming his fist onto the soot streaked gunnery console for emphasis. "Vor
chum Da! Tell the Captain of the Basilisk that I will personally flense
every millacam of skin from him, his officers and his gunnery crews if does
not fire on the Kzinti NOW!"
Gel’veg had tracked the progress of the newcomers as they made their run.
Even though he was manning the helm, as Exec officer it was still his duty
to inform B’moth of any pertinent data that he may have missed. He was
unable to keep the hint of accusation from his voice as he called the
situation.
"Range to Basilisk for the Hydrans now at seven fifty Kallacams. They have
launched missiles... In unison!" he exclaimed. "Datalink trio! Two salvos, six
internal and fourteen rack mounted are in the air and tracking." Prior to
this engagement, the Hydrans had shown no evidence of possessing the
technology to co-ordinate fire in this manner, while it was a standard
feature of Klingon warships.
The second glanced across and saw that B’moth was watching him out of the
corner of slitted eyes, his face impassive.
Gel’Veg glanced again at his sensor net, then his eyes widened as he
comprehended that data that was falsing across the readout.
"Tracking is.... over a hundred Kallacams in front of Basilisk’s bow!" he said
incredulously. "Still tracking.... Gar’sun Kor! Twelve clean hits on one of the
Kzinti destroyers! They are following up with lasers!"
It was almost as if the combatants held their collective breath as they
watched the events unfold. The targeted ship danced like the condemned man
at the end of a noose as internal explosion wracked it, before immolating in
a billion shards of glowing debris and vapour.
Then all hell broke loose in space.
The Kzinti retaliated with venom, targeting Hydrans that were frantically
trying to evade the Klingons and who now had aggressors in their midst that
they could not defend against. The situation was at it’s worst where the
Kzinti and Hydrans had formed a defensive position three quarters of a light
second out from the warp point as there was hardly room to maneuver in the
tight formation. That area of space rapidly became almost impossible to
navigate as Kzinti point blank concussion rounds tore into the Hydrans and
Klingon fire raked Kzinti ships in turn, a mass of debris intermingling the
melee. The remaining Federation ships tried to pull away from the combat
while they made sense of what had happened. Klingon missiles, concussion
shells and beams were poured into the brew, adding the flavour of chaos to
the already confused situation.
Looking up from the sensor display, Gel’Veg saw the lazy smile building on
his emperor’s face.
With a slow drawl, B’moth pronounced a single phrase.
"Tro’h Jan."
Gel’Veg looked stunned. Glancing at his readouts, he noted that the tactical
evaluation computer was rapidly re-calculating to take into account the
addition of Klingon reinforcements and the enemy disarray. He reported the
result.
"Threat ratio is now at one point one seven. We have them!'
The Emperor gave a wry chuckle as he replied, "I don’t need that overrated
abacus to tell me they are on the run."
His visage became stern once more, as the clear command rang out across the
bridge and relayed throughout the fleet.
"Now finish them!"
Still confused, the Alliance ships needed time to regroup and investigate
what had happened. The Klingons denied them this time and pressed in hard
for the kill. Realising they had fallen for a Klingon trap, the Kzinti
ceased fire and their ships tired to fall back towards the warp point to
regroup. The Hydrans and Federation vessels came about to join attempt to
consolidate at this new position.
Reading the situation, Basilisk moved to intercept while Gel’Veg brought the
Bayonet in close to bracket the enemy in a point blank crossfire.
What had been a retreat became a rout as the Alliance fleet scrambled for
the warp point, harried from all quarters by the Klingons. The cruiser
Battleaxe engaged in a running fire-fight with the last Federation cruiser.
The Federation ship was destroyed, even though the Battleaxe was reduced to
a crawling wreck by the parting from salvo her opponent’s destroyer escort.
This was in turn heavily damaged in a retributive strike from the Frigate
Alligator.
Hydran fighter craft broke away from their dual with two of the refitted
Klingon E4e anti-fighter escorts, streaking through the ether to land on the
retreating carriers before they made transit. The pilots were already aware
that there were less intact hanger bays than fighter craft remaining.
Around the warp point, the two Klingon heavy units and their escorts
continued to pour fire on the retreating vessels, but they were starting to
hurt as the fleeing units vented their frustration on the big ships that
were trying to catch as many of them as possible, even as they began
skipping over the event horizon and disappearing. Slowly but surely the
damage began to mount. Sitting closest to the wormhole, it was the Basilisk
that took the heavier punishment. Two concussion rounds from a wounded
Kzinti frigate blew off her starboard nacelle, the resulting explosions
ripping apart the rest of the wing and eating into the main hull. A Hydran
laser lanced the bulbous head, piercing the magazine for the forward missile
tubes and igniting the stored munitions. The command section disappeared in
a blinding flash leaving only a short stub of slender neck still connected
to the main hull.
A Kzinti destroyer, lightly damaged from the swirling skirmish with the
Battleaxe fired on the heavy cruiser from just over a light second to
deliver the coup de grace.
"NOOOOO!!!" Gel’Veg was only dimly aware that it was his own voice, even as
he was swinging the helm hard to bring the nose of the Bayonet around on the
destroyer. From the tactical plot, it was evident that he was not the only
helmsman with that idea. Piranha like, the shoal of Klingons converged on
their target.
Even in the blood lust of revenge, B’moth remained calm, splitting his fire
between the Kzinti and the Hydran who had destroyed the Basilisk’s bridge
section. His voice was punctuated by the deliberate stab of firing controls
as he coldly recited a litany of retribution.
"Do that.... to my cruisers.... and there will... be... consequences!"
Neither ship survived the onslaught.
The last few survivors that were able to make it to the warp point vanished
in short order. Some were too far away and were unable to run the gauntlet
of the remaining Klingon guns. Others were too crippled to make enough
headway to crawl over the event horizon. Two Kzinti frigates and a Hydran
destroyer scuttled themselves rather than be captured. One Hydran ship was
unable to set her charges due to damage and was boarded in short order, the
remaining crew ejected from her airlocks.
Aboard the Bayonet, Emperor B’moth rose from his temporary station. He was
relieved by a younger Klingon who had been unmable to take over during the
heat of battle, even if B’moth had been willing to give up the position. He
signaled for a relief helmsman to take Gel’Veg’s position.
"Secure from general quarters, remain at alert. Pull back to five thousand
Kallacams and reload racks. Send the escorts out to look for survivors. I
want a full damage report within the hour." He turned to face his executive
officer.
"Second, send a drone to High Command. Bring forward the reserve force to
relieve us." He paused for a moment, eyes squinting as he thought fast.
"Tell them to make sure General Angolin accompanies the task force. I need
to confer with him directly as soon as possible."
He had half turned and taken a step up towards the bridge entrance, not
expecting the reply from his aide.
"You are concerned over the outcome of this battle?"
B’moth turned to llok back, face still showing deep thought. "Yes, it is
concerning. I was not expecting the Feceration P’tah in this theatre, much
less an alliance with the Hydran and Kzinti. It adds quality close to our
own warriors and technology that we are hard pressed to match." He headed
towards the exit, shouldering past repair and cleanup crews, stepping over
debris and bodies.
He paused once more at the doorway and stood arm outstretched to lean on the
frame. "Today was not the real battle. That will happen at Honour Lost. That
is where the Kzinti main battle line is, I am sure of it. Yet they have
given no clue as to what heavy units they have, nor their capabilities. Will
they enlist Federation or Hydran aid? These are things I must ponder on."
So saying, Emperor B’moth headed for his chambers.
More to come soon...
(
geocities.com/mwadwell)