Terok Nor_ Day Of The Vipers Part 37

"A friend of yours?"

Darrah shook his head. "Not even close."

Syjin sneered. "Well, I make it a rule never to have more than one ship blown out from under me on a given day." He poured more power to the impulse drive, and the ship surged forward. "Let's play a game."

Out beyond the canopy, Darrah saw a wall of glittering dust racing toward them: the Denorios Belt, a ring of charged energetic plasma that existed out beyond the orbit of Bajor. "What are you doing?" he asked, in the most reasonable tone he could manage. "I know I'm not a starship pilot like you, but isn't the belt, to put it mildly, extremely dangerous?"

"That's one way of thinking of it, yes," Syjin replied. His fingers danced over the helm controls as disruptor blasts arced past them. "But less dangerous than a Galor Galor-cla.s.s starship."

"You're sure about that?"

Syjin shrugged. "Not really."

They plunged into the belt at maximum speed, with the Vandir Vandir close behind. The cruiser was surprisingly nimble, vectoring hard to dodge around pockets of rippling gaseous energy that Syjin avoided with ease. Darrah kept silent, watching his friend do what he did best-fly by pure instinct. Syjin's face was oddly placid, except for the occasional smile. He was actually close behind. The cruiser was surprisingly nimble, vectoring hard to dodge around pockets of rippling gaseous energy that Syjin avoided with ease. Darrah kept silent, watching his friend do what he did best-fly by pure instinct. Syjin's face was oddly placid, except for the occasional smile. He was actually enjoying enjoying this; without the fetters of gravity and atmosphere, ship and pilot moved in perfect step, dancing rather than flying. this; without the fetters of gravity and atmosphere, ship and pilot moved in perfect step, dancing rather than flying.

Behind them, Vandir Vandir came on, the deflectors of Dukat's warship flaring as it forced its way through cl.u.s.ters of energized neutrinos that would have sent the smaller Bajoran ship tumbling. came on, the deflectors of Dukat's warship flaring as it forced its way through cl.u.s.ters of energized neutrinos that would have sent the smaller Bajoran ship tumbling.

"He's still on us," Darrah said as the shuddering, spinning turns became more forceful. His throat was dry.

"I know," Syjin replied calmly. "Careful, now. This is going to get rough." He smiled. "Well, rougher." rougher."

They took a hit, and then another. A panel behind them crashed and broke apart. Over their heads, a conduit ruptured and a puff of hot gas emerged, spitting and dying away as automatic sealants activated. They were rolling and bouncing, up and down, back and forth. It was all Darrah could do to cling to the restraints of his chair. "This isn't like before," he managed, between gritted teeth. "This is worse."

"Just hold on," Syjin told him.

Gul Dukat appeared to have other ideas; the disruptor barrage was finding their range, zeroing in.

"I'm looking for something," continued the pilot.

"What, the Celestial Temple?" As boys, Prylar Yilb had taught them that the belt, visible from Bajor with the naked eye during the solstice, was fabled in myth as the place where the Prophets made their home. Darrah had never really believed that, not in a literal manner, but suddenly he was wondering. Were his G.o.ds going to reach out and smite the Carda.s.sian ship snapping at their heels?

Syjin read his mind. "The Prophets help those who help themselves." He grinned as a telltale flashed on his console. The pilot turned the ship and aimed it like an arrow. "My father was a pilot, my grandfather, and his before him...And the tricks get lost sometimes, but other times they get pa.s.sed on." A rumble echoed through the ship, and a sudden acceleration took them. "Hold on," Syjin called, straining to say the words. "I found us a boost!"

With a blink of energy discharge, the Bajoran ship skipped out of the Denorios Belt, cast like a stone thrown out over a lake. The Vandir Vandir was still chasing them, but it fell behind, slipping off the close-range proximity scope. was still chasing them, but it fell behind, slipping off the close-range proximity scope.

Eventually the speed bled away and the velocity-distorted stars became more regular as they settled into normal warp flight. Darrah gingerly got out of his chair. "What was that, the hand of G.o.d?"

"You could call it that," Syjin said, wiping a film of sweat from his brow. "Actually, that was a tachyon eddy. The old Republic solar sailors used to use them to propel themselves to other star systems, back before we had light-speed drives." He mimed a sail with the blade of his hand.

"Like a coastal wind pushing a yacht."

"I thought that was a s.p.a.cer myth," Darrah replied. "A bar-stool story for the elderly crocks who can't see to fly anymore."

Syjin shot him a grin. "Now you know different. In the old eras, they used to make a sacrament to the Prophets before they crossed the belt, so maybe you were right. About the 'hand of G.o.d' thing."

Something caught Darrah's eye and he bent to examine the engineering panel. "I don't think so. Not unless they want to call us back to the Celestial Temple pretty soon."

"What's wrong?" Syjin vaulted out of his seat.

There, on the console, the system status display showed a rupture running the entire length of the ship's port drive nacelle. "We're bleeding plasma." Darrah frowned. "Must be from one of those disruptor hits."

Syjin grimaced. "Speed's dropping. We'll be bounced out of warp and stuck on impulse, light-years from anywhere," he spat. "It'll take years on sublight to reach the nearest planet! We'll starve first!"

Darrah shook his head and tapped the long-range sensor display. "No, we won't." The Vandir Vandir was still following them. "Dukat's going to solve that problem for us." was still following them. "Dukat's going to solve that problem for us."

"Give me that again," said Jameson, turning in his chair to look across the bridge at Ensign Muhle.

The Gettysburg Gettysburg's Tiburonian communications officer nodded, one hand pressing a transceiver to his large ear. "Confirming, sir. Signal prefix identified as mission code for Lieutenant Alynna Nechayev."

The captain glanced at the woman in question. "You have an explanation, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, sir," she replied, aware that all eyes on the bridge were on her. "Before we escaped Bajor, I managed to...cultivate a new intelligence a.s.set. The man who aided our flight, a local law enforcement officer named Darrah Mace."

"You coerced a Bajoran into becoming a Federation operative without consulting your operational commander?" T'Vel said coldly. "A very risky action."

"It seemed like a good idea at the time," she replied curtly. "I thought he might have access to information that could be useful." Nechayev sighed. "That was before we decided to abandon Bajor to the Carda.s.sians, of course."

Jameson frowned at the comment. "Gold," he called, nodding to the other officer. "Pa.s.sive sensors, please. What do we have at the coordinates the signal originated from?"

"Working," said the lieutenant. "Here we go. One Bajoran ship at impulse, fluctuating power levels. Can't get a life sign reading at this range."

"Anything else?"

Gold widened the search area. "Oh boy. That's a yes, Captain. Another contact, reads as a Carda.s.sian cruiser. He's coming at them like he's hungry."

"Position?"

"Close to the Federation border," Gold replied.

T'Vel raised an eyebrow. "But not close enough for a sanctioned intervention."

Nechayev rounded on the Vulcan. "That's a distress call, Commander! Sent specifically to this ship!" To me, To me, she added silently. "Are you suggesting we ignore it?" she added silently. "Are you suggesting we ignore it?"

"I am suggesting nothing," said the woman, unruffled by the lieutenant's words. "In this matter, any involvement is wholly at the discretion of the ship's captain."

Jameson sat quietly in his chair, his hands knitted before him, staring at the stars on the viewscreen.

The Vandir Vandir arrived and brought h.e.l.l with it. Bright spears of glowing energy reached out to pierce the ship, and the vessel was bathed in a crackling glow. arrived and brought h.e.l.l with it. Bright spears of glowing energy reached out to pierce the ship, and the vessel was bathed in a crackling glow.

Inside, Darrah and Syjin were thrown about as the shields fluttered. "You have any weapons on this thing?" demanded the lawman.

"A laser cl.u.s.ter on the nose, if it still works," Syjin replied, clinging to his console. "That'd only irritate them, I think."

"We have to stay out off their disruptor arc." Darrah did his best to help at the copilot's station. "Keep agile."

"Easier said than done." Another blast slammed into them, and sparking electrical shorts crawled across the deck plates. "We're losing deflectors. He gets a direct hit on us and we're not even going to have time to feel it."

"Aft shields at twenty percent." Darrah worked the console. "I'm transferring power from the forward array."

Gravity had been the first thing to go, and the inside of the c.o.c.kpit was a mess of floating dust, pieces of stale food, and sundry other bits of debris. Syjin threw himself out of his seat and pivoted to land neatly at the engineering station. "Hold it together, Mace, just for a moment." The ship hummed as another bolt kissed the dorsal shields. "Bah. No call for surrender? This Dukat's got no cla.s.s at all."

"No argument there," Darrah grated, pulling the ship this way and that. He lacked the skill of his friend, but the threat of imminent death made any man a fast learner. But he couldn't escape the feeling that the Vandir Vandir was toying with them, bracketing the Bajoran ship with beam-fire, herding them into a kill zone. was toying with them, bracketing the Bajoran ship with beam-fire, herding them into a kill zone.

"Still," Syjin said, a laugh in his voice. "This is exciting, isn't it?" The pilot worked frantically to divert precious energy from non-critical systems to the shields.

"What?" Darrah couldn't believe his ears.

"We used to play s.p.a.ce battles as kids, didn't we? You and me and Osen, behind that big old kava kava tree outside the docker dormitories-" tree outside the docker dormitories-"

The next bolt that hit them punched through the weakening shields like they were vapor. The disruptor beam sheared off the starboard nacelle entirely and released superheated plasma back into the ship, letting it unfold in a wild, uncontrolled reaction. Seeking the path of least resistance, it cracked up through the hull and touched a power conduit. Systems all over the ship exploded like bombs, including the engineering console. The detonation overpressure punctured Darrah's eardrums, and in horrifying silence he saw Syjin pinwheel around the cabin to collide with the far bulkhead. The pilot was blown across the room, a ragged doll trailing streamers of blood that coiled away in zero gravity.

He forgot the controls and screamed his friend's name, floundering after him through the acrid and choking air. Syjin kept drifting away from him, still turning gently, as if he didn't want Darrah to see his ruined face.

Lights were going out all around him, and suddenly the air felt thick and greasy, hard to push down into his lungs. Darrah kept reaching for his friend, fingers sweeping and missing at the cuff of his blood-soaked jacket. Behind him, a black pack drifted across the c.o.c.kpit, the ma.s.s of the object inside carrying it on an aimless course.

"Confirm motion-kill," noted Orloc. "Target has lost power. Life support has failed." He looked up at Dukat. "I can send men aboard, sir, or bring it into the bay."

"New contact," said Tunol. "Dropping from warp, closing on intercept vector."

Dukat shot her an angry look; he was a breath away from giving the final order to fire. "Identify it," he scowled.

"Federation," she said, with a lilt of surprise. "A light cruiser."

"They're hailing us," reported a glinn. "Shall I respond?"

"Of course not," Dukat snapped. "They've got no jurisdiction here, no matter how close to their borders they say we are. Starfleet can watch me dispatch this annoyance and then complain to our backs as we return to Bajor."

"They might attack," warned Orloc.

"That ship's not a match for us," Dukat began, but a look from Tunol brought him up short. "What?" he hissed.

"Three more vessels of the same cla.s.s approaching. They must have been hiding in the warp signature of the one we detected." She licked her lips. "Gul, we can't oppose four-"

"Come about!" he snarled, silencing her, angry that he would be denied the chance to defy Starfleet to its face.

"Orloc! Load a seeker munition into the aft tube and program the Bajoran's silhouette into the warhead. Fire when ready."

"Coming about," Tunol reported. "Course?"

"Bajor." Dukat spat the word back at her. "Maximum warp. We are done with this fool's errand."

From behind him, Orloc called out. "Seeker away and running."

"They're taking the bluff," said Nechayev. "The Carda.s.sians are moving off."

"Good," replied Jameson. "If he didn't, we'd be stuck here going head to head with nothing but sensor phantoms for backup." It had been the captain's idea to manipulate Gettysburg Gettysburg's warp signature to produce a series of echoes; to a cursory scanner sweep, they would seem like a flotilla of identical starships.

"The Bajoran ship's coming apart at the seams," reported Gold. "Scanning. I'm reading one life-form on board."

"The Carda.s.sian ship has ignored all hails-" Muhle started to speak, but T'Vel's strident tones broke over him.

"Carda.s.sian is firing." She was clipped and firm. "Seeker missile."

Jameson shot Nechayev a hard look. They were running at Red Alert status, ready to meet any attack with equal force; the Gettysburg Gettysburg's crew had crossed swords with the Carda.s.sian Union on more than one occasion. "Are we the target?"

"Negative!" replied Gold. "He's going to warp, and the seeker's homing straight in on the Bajoran!"

"Captain," Nechayev pressed. "We have to get that man out of there."

He didn't respond to her. "Lieutenant Gold, are you certain? Are we the seeker's target?"

"No, sir," said the officer. "It's entering terminal phase now, ten seconds to impact. Nine. Eight-"

Jameson nodded to T'Vel, and the Vulcan gave the order. "Lower the shields. Transporter room?"

"Ready, Commander." Nechayev heard Gwen Jones's voice on the other end of the intercom. Nechayev heard Gwen Jones's voice on the other end of the intercom.

"Lock on and energize."

By rights, Jones should have still been in sickbay, but she was going stir-crazy in the starship's medical center and when the alert condition sounded, she took the opportunity to a.s.sist the Gettysburg Gettysburg's crew at their stations; and besides, it would help if the first face Darrah saw was a familiar one.

Across from her in the transporter room, Lieutenant Commander sh'Sena and a Bolian ensign named Jolev were poised with their phasers drawn, with Nurse Tepper standing nearby with a medical kit. The Andorian, it seemed, was willing to take no chances.

"Transporter room?" T'Vel's crisp tones cracked over the intercom. T'Vel's crisp tones cracked over the intercom.

"Ready, Commander." The technician at the console gave her a thumbs-up sign.

"Lock on and energize."