"Admiral." It was the voice of Slaralyk, his Reman flag lieutenant. "We have a distress call on comms - Reman freighter convoy under attack."
Trosek cursed again. "More of these Hegemony pirates, no doubt. Set a course to intercept, best speed, and advise the convoy we are moving to assist. Perhaps our mere presence will be enough to scare them away."
He turned away from the console before hearing Slaralyk's acknowledgement. A few minutes in the sonic shower, to cleanse the sweat of exertion; a change into full uniform; and then Trosek was ready to stride onto the bridge of the RRW Khuaenen and take charge of the situation.
The Ar'kif class tactical warbird was one of the Republic's most powerful battleships, and Trosek, a veteran of the internal warfare that had plagued the Star Empire, was one of the new Republic navy's most experienced commanders. Tall, physically powerful, his black hair only a little touched by grey, he took control of the bridge by his mere presence. He settled himself in his command chair and reviewed the situation on the tactical display. A faint frown appeared on his patrician features.
"I don't recognize that ship class," he said, indicating the presumed hostile.
"Historical records indicate a possible match for a Vulcan cruiser design," Slaralyk said in guttural tones. "The warp signature and emissions profile indicate modern technology, though. Sir, the Reman freighters lost comms in the last strike -"
The dots of the three Reman freighters were huddled in one corner of the display. Trosek's frown deepened. They were too close together - a core breach on one of those ships would take the other two with it. And they were flashing multiple damage status indicators -
"Hail the hostile. Let's see what we're dealing with."
"Transmitting," said Centurion T'trel from the comms console.
Trosek turned to look at the Starfleet liaison officer, Commander Stug. The Tellarite's face was expressionless. "Our duty is to protect our citizens," Trosek said. "I do not know who is on that ship, but if they are attacking Reman civilians, my duty is clear - whoever they are."
"Noted," said Stug. "I've got no time for pirates anyhow."
"Transmission from the hostile," said T'trel. "I have visual."
"On screen."
The face that appeared on the viewer was that of a Vulcan male; pale-skinned, dark-haired, the expression almost mild, as if he were engaged in some moderately distasteful duty. "I am Commander Sorot of the HBS Stulak," he said. "Please be brief. I am engaged in necessary actions against Reman criminals."
"I am Admiral Trosek of the RRW Khuaenen. You are firing on civilian vessels under our protection. You will stop. Now."
If he was impressed, the Vulcan did not show it. "We are taking necessary action against Reman criminals. That action will be completed."
"What criminals? Those are unarmed freighters!"
"I attempted to detain this convoy so that its leaders might answer questions concerning the assassination of the Hegemon Valikra. We have credible evidence that personnel from those vessels were in the vicinity of the Hegemon at the time of this crime. Instead of cooperating with my enquiry, the freighters elected to flee. It is a maxim of the Hegemony that innocent citizens cooperate willingly with the state."
Trosek glared at the Vulcan. "Your Hegemony has been attacking Remans without warning across half the quadrant. Is there any wonder that they should try to escape from you? Present your evidence through legal channels - it will be heard. In the mean time, stand down."
"You have no authority to give me orders. I will carry out my assigned duties."
A dreadful gulf seemed to open in Trosek's stomach. With an effort, he kept his voice level as he said, "I too have my assigned duties. They include the protection of Republic civilians. I will execute those duties. You would be well advised not to test me, Commander."
"Your duties cannot involve firing on a Vulcan vessel - and this is a Vulcan vessel. Agreements between the Republic and the Federation would preclude any such action."
"If a vessel is firing on Republic citizens, my duty is to stop it, whoever it belongs to. Yield to the logic of the situation, Commander. If my ship engages yours, you will be defeated."
Was there a flicker of - some emotion - on the Vulcan's face? Trosek couldn't be sure. But Sorot continued in the same mild, reasonable tones, "That has yet to be determined, and you may well find your confidence is misplaced, Admiral. In any event, you will not prevent me from carrying out my orders."
"For the last time, Commander Sorot - stand down."
The Vulcan said nothing. The viewer went blank. After a fraction of a second, the tactical display came back.
"The Vulcan is turning," said Slaralyk.
"Moving to depart?"
"I don't think so, sir. It looks like he's presenting his energy weapons broadside to the freighters."
Trosek swore. "Any communications yet with the freighters?"
"No, sir," said T'trel.
"Flank speed. Get us in between the convoy and the Vulcan, fast. Maximum power to shields." Trosek leaned back in his chair. "HBS. Must be 'Hegemony of Bresar Ship'. If we can be sure that this action is not acknowledged by the Vulcan Defence Force -"
"Sir?"
Trosek glared at T'trel. "I would rather not start a war between Vulcan and the Republic if I can help it, Centurion." The sick hollow feeling in his stomach wasn't going away.
The Khuaenen leaped forward, positioning herself between the battered freighters and the long ominous shape of the Vulcan cruiser. "Launch fighters," Trosek ordered. The Scorpion fighter wing was an effective fighting force, and their presence might just tip the balance, might just convince the Vulcan not to fight -
"Incoming!"
Phaser light slammed into the Khuaenen's port shields, and the warbird shuddered. "Hold fire!" Trosek shouted. "Damage report!"
"Shields holding at seventy-two per cent," said Slaralyk. "He nudged us good, but it was just a nudge... we can take it."
The freighters couldn't, though. "Manoeuvring thrusters. Keep us in his way. Signal the fighters to target his weapons arrays, but do not fire unless I give the word."
He had a visual on the enemy ship, now. That long, narrow design gave him an advantage, Trosek thought; the Vulcan's moment of inertia would be higher, the Khuaenen could turn faster, keep position better.... He wished he could talk to the Reman ships. If he could get them to warp out, fast, while Khuaenen kept the Vulcan occupied....
The warbird rocked again, as another blaze of fire came from the enemy's weapons ports. "Port shield down to forty-one per cent - reinforcing. Minor stress on structural integrity field."
Still nothing significant, but that wouldn't last. The Vulcan ship was moving, swinging around - swinging around fast, Trosek realized. They had to have sophisticated RCS arrays on that ship - in another few seconds, he would be out of position -
"Hard about, one niner seven mark three." It would turn their undamaged starboard shields towards the Vulcan -
The phasers fired again, and this time the Khuaenen rocked in the barrage, and damage lights winked on across the control board. "Must have overcharged his phaser arrays. He can't do that trick twice in a hurry. Divert singularity power to the shields!"
Reinforced by the overflow power of the singularity core, the Khuaenen's flickering shields steadied and firmed - just in time for another barrage from the Vulcan ship. Slaralyk cursed. "He's going for our drives - that last one damn near took our RCS array offline - Sir, he knows what we're trying to do, and if he takes our drive out -"
Time seemed to stop inside Trosek's head. If they lost the thruster arrays, or took too much damage to the engines themselves - then they would drift helpless, unable to protect the convoy further. And there was no way to signal the Remans to go to warp, he didn't even know if they could go to warp -
The only way, now, was direct action. Elements preserve me, he thought, I know what I must do.
"We have no choice," he heard himself say. "Return the favour - target that warp ring of theirs. Shoot to disable, if you can. But shoot."
"Yes, sir." There was a grim satisfaction in the Reman's voice. Trosek found he was afraid to look at Commander Stug. "Targeting locked."
"Fire."
Khuaenen's plasma arrays flared into life, spitting ribbons of green lightning at the Vulcan cruiser's midsection. The enemy ship's shields glowed, for an instant, then shattered like glass before the onslaught. The plasma beams drove into the drive ring, searing and tearing at the armour, burning into the warp coils within -
Suddenly, the circular warp drive was a ring of flame around the hull of the cruiser, and Trosek allowed himself a faint flash of hope. If he had just disabled the Vulcan's drive -
Then the ring of flame blazed a thousand times more brilliantly, exploding into a dazzling disc that cut the cruiser neatly in two, before the white flash of a core breach annihilated it completely.
The white-hot wreckage of the Vulcan ship faded and died in the blackness of space, and the last chance of peace died with it.
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