Treacherous Waters - Chpt 17 continued
<continued>
Adol walked over, checking the settings of his own tricorder. “Not surprising. The field is probably being projected from the outpost. We might be near the threshold of its range. Too bad we can’t go out any further.”
Ravas looked at the ceiling, her dark face beaded in sweat. “Do you think the ship heard us?”
A grinding rumble came from somewhere behind the sealed door. Quella checked his tricorder, and then blew air through his teeth as he remembered the jamming field. “I think the first door’s open. It sounds like they’re overriding the lockouts.” He looked at his comrades. “Makes sense since they know this place better than we do and it has no real failsafe mechanisms. It’s only a matter of time, maybe minutes, before they override our airlock as well.”
No instructions were necessary. The group moved into tactical positions, using the sofas and chairs for what little cover they offered. One guard put himself between the door and the children, another in front of Sharm, who was ordered to lie out of sight. The wait was not a long one. Shouts could soon be heard through the large airlock, meaning that the mercenaries were now only meters away. There was a metallic clink on the other side of the door, signifying the placement of an override unit.
“Ready.” Shantok said, aiming her phaser at the entrance.
“Oohh…how pretty.” The alien girl purred from behind them.
Happy for any type of diversion, Sharm glanced in the girl’s direction.
“Who are they?” Asked the boy.
When Sharm realized they were staring out a side window, he crawled over on his hands and knees to see what had their attention.
Craning his neck upward, he just made out a massive saucer moving into view. He slapped his hands in desperation against the transparency, like a prisoner yearning for unattainable freedom beyond his cell. “They’re here!” He yelled. “They’re here!”
Before anyone could react, the entire docking arm began to shake violently. The lights faded to a dim gray. It sounded like a thunderstorm was now raging throughout the complex.
Sharm pressed his face against the window port, aghast at what he was witnessing. “By the Great Raptor! What are they
doing?” He gasped. “There’s a plasma artery that runs through here! Are they
insane?”
Adol staggered across the bucking floor to see what Sharm was going on about. He took one look out the window and immediately grabbed the reptilian by the scruff of his jacket, shoving him away and towards the middle of the room. His hands snatched out and the children went down next to him. “Don’t move!” He threw his own body atop the civilians as best he could for extra protection.
***
Intrepid’s phaser beam sliced into the docking arm like a scalpel, cutting through the structure’s width, pulverizing layers of material as it swept onward. Clouds of gas erupted through the incision as compartments blew out in a series of violent decompressions.
Just before it touched the main power conduit that ran the structure’s length, the beam snapped off, leaving the docking arm connected by only half the mass that had once tethered it to the outpost.
Blue light embraced the battered extension. As the tractor beam began its relentless pull against the docking arm, the structure’s outer skin shriveled under the onslaught of the graviton field. At first, the outpost seemed to resist the dismemberment, stubbornly holding its appendage to the last. But finally it gave up the struggle and the docking arm ripped free in an explosion of glittering metal and plasma flashes.
Intrepid moved away, the docking structure dragging in the wake of her tractor beam as though she were parading a morbid trophy.
“We have the docking arm,” Pal called out from OPS. He shot a look of concern over his shoulder. “But life support is gone and structural integrity is failing. I was afraid of this.”
“Mr. Rodriguez, are we out of range of the scattering field yet?”
The young Latin officer clenched a fist against the tactical panel. “Another three or four minutes, sir.”
“Incoming vessel!” Pal yelped. “Closing fast!”
Aubrey wondered if the Velk warship had somehow resurrected itself faster than he had anticipated-----then he realized that it was a new opponent they now faced.
“I have an ID,” Rodriguez exclaimed. “Tellarite ship. Looks like a freighter refitted for combat. About twenty percent of our armament, forty percent our mass.”
“Send friendly greetings.”
“Receiving text only.” The tactical officer reported promptly. “They’re demanding that we abandon the structure immediately or we’ll be fired upon.”
“They think we’re guarding something valuable.” Ensign Sorna speculated absently.
“We are.” Aubrey drummed his fingers lightly against his armrest, feeling inspiration strike. “Respond that we’re disposing of a deadly contaminate. Warn them to stay back for their own protection.”
Rodriguez grinned as he transmitted the message. But his good sprits didn’t last. “No response.” He declared somberly.
Plan B, the captain thought. “Tactical, cut tractor beam and raise shields. We’ll let the structure continue on inertia. Helm, match arm’s velocity and come smartly fifteen degrees starboard rotation. Keep us between the arm and our opponent.”
The
Excelsior ship rolled onto her side, assuming a parallel course with the arm’s central axis, interposing her body to protect the structure. She was peppered with disruptor cannons the instant she completed the maneuver. Her shields lit up as they absorbed the punishment.
An onslaught of phasers blasted from
Intrepid’s upper saucer module and secondary hull. After a few broadsides the Tellarite ship veered away.
“We’ve lost another fifteen percent on the upper shields. Minor scarring to ablative armor portside aft.” Rodriguez reported. “No additional damage.”
“Captain, the docking arm! It’s crumbling!” Pal gripped the edges of his console as though it might fly away from him. “If we don’t get our people out now-----“
Looking amazingly calm, Aubrey turned his chair to face the tactical podium behind him. “Do we have any kind of signal to lock onto in there?”
Searching his data with desperation, Rodriguez’s face suddenly lit up. “The field’s dissipated enough for us to beam through, Captain! But we can’t pinpoint individual-----“
“Drop ventral shields and initiate a blanket transport. Zulu-two security measure.”
Rodriguez acknowledged the order. His hands were almost a blur as they worked his board.
Rather than precision targeting, the transporter instead reached out blindly, groping for anything that felt remotely humanoid.
Within the dying structure, the group of humanoids in question tried desperately to take cover as the docking arm ripped itself to pieces around them. The Starfleet officers were huddled over Sharm and the children in a pointless gesture of protection. Their frail bodies would certainly not ward off death. But perhaps they wanted their charges to feel a last ephemeral contact with warm flesh before the end.
The compartment writhed in its death throes. Ancient metal screamed. The walls twisted and then shattered as though the whole assembly had been nothing more than glass.
And then it was no more. Cold vacuum arrived to snuff out the small creatures like candle flames.
But the Reaper had appeared a second too late-----because all that remained of the occupants were shimmering after images.
What an action sequence! Adol, Shantok and Co. just about bought the farm that time. Kinda wish Sharm had been left behind - what a snake!
Captain Aubrey won't win any awards for stealth, but plenty of kudos for getting the job done.
