"Permission granted, sir." The burly Andorian saluted crisply. "Welcome aboard the Enterprise."
Admiral Quinn stepped off the transporter pad and strode onto the Federation flagship's bridge. "Thank you, Captain Shon. What's the situation?"
"Fleet's holding station six AUs from Lambda Cygni. The Siohonin forces are massing - and I do mean massing," the Andorian added dryly. "Estimates have them at nearly a quarter of a million frigates. They've been busy."
Two hundred and fifty thousand ships... every one of them with weaponry capable of pounding a cruiser to ruins, any three of them capable of one-shotting a dreadnought... Quinn steeled himself, put the thought from his mind. "What about our allies?"
"We have direct contact with J'mpok on the Bortasqu', Commander Jarok on the Lleiset, Obisek on the Zdenia. I have them on your flag chair console now, sir."
Quinn took his seat, nodded to the row of faces on the miniature screens. "Quinn," growled the Klingon Chancellor. "Welcome to the fray."
"Still working on tying in Legate Murcenn aboard the Ninth Order's flagship, sir." Lieutenant Jav, the ops officer, took over smoothly. "And, sir, DaiMon Trok say's he's waiting for a confirmation code -"
"Patch him in," said Quinn. A fourth panel lit up, showing an expectant, fang-toothed, huge-eared face. "DaiMon. My receipt code is Qayliph-Alpha-Shul two seven four."
DaiMon Trok glanced at something outside Quinn's range of vision. "Checks out, Admiral. The forces of the Ferengi Alliance acknowledge receipt of your payment and stand ready to receive your orders."
"Good. Tie into our tactical command net and stay ready," said Quinn. The Ferengi grinned and vanished from the screen.
"How much did it cost?" asked Captain Shon.
"The Grand Nagus took me for everything I had," said Quinn. "At the time. Six strips of gold-pressed latinum."
Shon glanced at the tactical display, at the swarm of squat orange crescentric warships. "Special discount rates?" he asked.
"One-off bargain," said Quinn. "Just so he could say truthfully that the Ferengi never fought without payment -" He stiffened. "What's that?"
"Unknown, sir," said Lieutenant Commander Tem from the science station. "Sensor contacts approaching from two different vectors. Attempting analysis now -" Her face turned suddenly pale, and she uttered a loud Bajoran oath.
"Um, Admiral," said Lieutenant Jav. "I have... incoming hails. From the, umm, the Zlan'tirgri and the, the Naskatk...."
"The who? Put them through," Quinn growled. "Let's see what else we've got to deal with."
Two faces appeared on the main screen - or shapes, at any rate. One was a red-gold glittering crystal in which eyes glowed like fires. The other was a metal mask with a steaming respirator, surmounted by a cycloptic visor.
The crystal spoke first. <Admiral Quinn. I am Admiral Atene, aboard the Tholian Assembly dreadnought Zlan'tirgri. It is the judgment of the Assembly that the Siohonin present a clear and present danger, not only to your Federation and its allies, but to all species within their potential sphere of influence. The Assembly has therefore decided to offer military support towards ending this threat. Please transmit your requirements to coordinate my ships with your tactical computer net.>
"I - thank the Assembly for its cooperation," said Quinn. He turned to Lieutenant Jav. "Make it so." Then he turned to the masked Breen. "And you?"
"Thot Trel," the Breen rumbled.
Quinn frowned. "I thought you were dead?"
"No, no, that was Thot Trel, I'm Thot Trel." The masked figure shifted - in irritation or amusement, Quinn couldn't tell. "Anyway, what the chatty crystal said goes for us as well. These lunatics are a threat to everyone, the Confederacy included. My fleet will coordinate with yours, and if it all works out, the Siohonin are going down."
Quinn blinked in bemusement. "I'm glad to hear it," he said. "Welcome, Thot Trel." He turned to an increasingly harassed-looking Lieutenant Jav. "Try and keep a couple of command channels open," he said, "just in case the Dominion or the Hirogen show up."
"I'll try, sir. Um, the Cardassian fleet contingent is linked in now -"
"Let me have full tactical display," Quinn ordered.
The main viewer lit up with the fleets marked in. Starfleet, KDF, the Romulans... the Cardassians on one flank, the Ferengi on another... and now, more forces, Tholian and Breen, linking into a network of terrifying firepower. Tholian Tarantulas and Breen Rezreth Destroyers... having ships like that on his side, for once, should make a difference, Quinn thought.
But against the oncoming wall of Siohonin warships, even this fleet looked paltry by comparison. Quinn settled into the flag chair, and studied the screen. The faces of his fellow commanders regarded him from the console.
"Incoming hail from the Siohonin, sir," said Jav.
J'mpok glared and made a contemptuous noise. "Ignore it," he suggested.
"We may as well hear what they have to say." Legate Murcenn was a heavy-jowled elderly Cardassian with an unexpectedly smooth, silky voice. "It may buy us time, at least."
"Put them on," said Quinn, wearily.
He knew the face that appeared now. "Admiral Jorel Quinn," said the Siohonin. "I am Grand Marshal Gamariden Tal. The Federation has seen fit to ignore some reasonable requests made by our lord the Theocrat. My orders, therefore, are to implement the Theocrat's requirements. You and your wretched mob are in my way, Quinn. Get out of it."
Quinn looked at Tal, looked at the arrogant carriage, the glowing triumphant eyes of the man. He thought very hard about what to say.
"No," he said, and cut the channel.
J'mpok laughed. "Admirably direct."
Quinn turned to the Tholian and the Breen. "Have you assimilated our tactical plan?"
"Got it," said Trel.
<Your late Vice Admiral M'Azzur seems to have judged well,> said Atene. <Swamping their defences with auxiliary craft seems the best way to negate their special weapons. Even so, their numbers are colossal - Still. The Assembly is ready to follow your plan.>
Quinn nodded. The Siohonin fleet was closing faster now, there was no more time to delay. "All ships," he said, "launch auxiliaries."
From the launch bays of every carrier in the fleet, from the shuttle bays of every other ship, fighters, frigates, and shuttles shot out. The tactical display flickered on the verge of overload at the huge number of units now involved in the battle. A blizzard of auxiliaries swept out from the allied fleets, to interpenetrate the Siohonin formation, to snipe and harass the enemy from every angle.
M'Azzur's plan had been the best option, they had decided. The harrying fighters would disrupt the Siohonin's already limited tactical coordination - the Siohonin couldn't use their warp mirror defence against attacks from multiple vectors simultaneously - the fighter harassment would prevent groups of three frigates from linking up to use the devastating warp cannon -
In theory.
That theory was about to be put to the test. "Fighters in weapons range," Tem reported. "Engaging."
To the naked eye, it would have seemed as though a multi-coloured haze was spreading across space. Half a dozen different kinds of energy weapons, spitting from thousands of small ships, turned the starfield into a shifting, glimmering glow. Here and there, a bright gleam announced the first deaths, the first breaches of warp cores....
"Confirming... Siohonin casualties," said Tem. "Sir, I don't think... I can't be sure, but I don't think we've lost any allied fighters yet."
Quinn frowned. The Siohonin frigates were individually feeble, outclassed by the Tholians' Mesh Weavers, Cardassian Hidekis, or even Starfleet's Delta Flyers and runabouts... but surely some of the auxiliaries must have run into the path of those deadly kinetic lances, by now?
"I have Captain M'urra from Atrox's fighter wing reporting now," said Lieutenant Jav.
"Put her through."
The Caitian figher commander appeared on screen. "They're not using the lances!" she cried. "No sign of their special weapons! They only have standard disruptors, and they're not even good with those! We're swarming all over them! If we get main fleet support, we can finish them!"
"It could be a trap," said Tiaru Jarok, thoughtfully. "To lure in our heavy units and take them out."
"Our lead escorts are already in range," said J'mpok. "If it is a trap, they must spring it soon, or it will be all over for them."
Quinn thought furiously for a moment. The Siohonin weren't disciplined, weren't experienced - under the fighter assault, he was sure, a Siohonin frigate commander would have used the kinetic lances... if he was able....
He decided. "Quinn to fleet. All ships. Commit to full engagement."
Enterprise surged smoothly forwards in the vanguard of the Starfleet contingent. Quinn tried to block his ears to the sound of Klingons singing behind J'mpok.
"Attack Pattern Eta Nine," Captain Shon ordered. "Wide angle barrage, target as many opponents as you can. Reinforce forward shields." He glanced at Quinn. "If our firepower's divided between multiple targets - it might get reflected back in increments we can survive."
"Targets in weapons range," someone announced.
"Fire!"
The Federation flagship trembled as her phaser arrays sent out beams of golden energy like the questing fingers of a giant - and what those fingers touched, they broke. A half dozen luckless Siohonin frigates died within seconds, shields blasted to nothing, hulls vaporizing under the Enterprise's phasers.
"Torpedo tubes, scatter pattern, fire!" And more Siohonin ships died, torpedoes piercing their shields and smashing through to wreak havoc on their hulls.
"Slaughter them!" J'mpok was shouting. "Send them to Gre'thor! Avenge every insult to Klingon honour!"
"The Siohonin have a small number of genuine starships," said Quinn. "Their command and control battleships."
J'mpok looked at him, and the light of battle faded briefly in his eyes, to be replaced by a calculating look. "Yes," he said, "yes, if we take those, the rabble of frigates will be forced to surrender."
Quinn nodded. "Let's find them."
"I have partial ID for the Siohonin heavy units already," said Lieutenant Commander Tem. "Sir - the closest one to us is the enemy flagship. The Glaive."
Quinn smiled, just a little. "Signal Escort Group Alpha to accompany us and keep Siohonin light elements out of the way," he said. "Let's go deal with Gamariden Tal."
---
"Warp cannon inactive. Warp mirror inactive. Kinetic lances offline," the weapons officer repeated in tones of weary desperation.
Gamariden Tal whirled round to stab an accusing finger at Nyredalit Amm. "Still nothing! Where is the god's aid, Amm? Where is it?"
Sweat had broken out on the priest's brow; he clung to his rod of office like a lifeline. "The god must be testing us - testing our devotion - Our faith must not waver!"
"Faith is not helping my ships!" roared Tal. He made a sweeping gesture to the status board that dominated one side of the bridge - where he could see his forces dwindling, his fleet melting away, like a sandcastle in the rain, under the apocalyptic barrage from the Allied ships. "We need the special weapons, Amm! Intercede with the god, Your Holiness - if not on our behalf, then on your own!"
"Movement among the infidel ships, sir," the Glaive's tactical officer reported. "Some of their heavier elements have changed course - they are -" He swallowed. "They are moving to intercept our capital ships. Sir, the USS Enterprise is coming towards us."
Tal swore loudly. He took rapid stock of his available forces, and strode to the communications console. "Twelfth Assault Armada! Defend the flagship! Engage and destroy the Enterprise!"
"There is other movement," the tactical officer continued. "The infidel fighters are withdrawing from battlefield sector two eight by three seven -"
Tal looked at the screen. "Their forces are thinly spread in that area! Concentrate the fleet! We will break through and outflank them!" He turned to Amm. "We may win through yet."
"If our faith is strong -" the priest began, and Tal turned away from him with a dismissive oath.
The comms channels were humming with orders and distress signals already - now, new messages were coming in, on the priority channels reserved for the Siohonin capital ships.
"This is the Ranseur, we have a Tholian dreadnought inbound, request urgent support -"
"Demilune engaging the Cardassians, we are outnumbered by their Galors, request support -"
"This is the Corseque! We have the Bortasqu' on scan, contact imminent! Evading now! Assistance needed!"
"Partizan calling. We are under attack from the Nausicaan vessel Anar. We will sweep this mercenary scum out of the sky -"
That voice broke off. Tal called up a visual image from that sector, and winced. The Nausicaan Guramba destroyer was spinning away from the fight, its spines reconfiguring after firing its disruptor javelin - and the Partizan, pierced from stem to stern, was collapsing into a blazing hulk -
But his forces, now, were concentrating in the battlefield sector that had been cleared of enemy fighters. That one was dominated by the Romulans and the Remans, Tal noticed. His lip curled. They were cowards who preferred to strike from hiding, it was no wonder they had no stomach for a real fight.
"Ships at sector two eight by three seven, prepare to advance," he ordered. "Punch through the Romulans and fall on the Federation from the flank. Glorious victory - in the name of Sebreac Tharr!" There. That should please the god, perhaps even enough to awaken him.
The Siohonin ships, obedient to his orders, advanced. And then space shimmered before them -
Scimitars. Romulan and Reman Scimitars, too many for Tal to count at one glance, and all of them decloaking with their weapons spines raised and charged. They fired their thalaron barrages in concert, in one devastating blast, planet-wrecking weaponry aimed squarely at the dense mass of Siohonin ships.
The light frigates simply evaporated as the blast wave swept over them. The capital ships - Bardiche, Voulge, Pilum, Kontos, a half dozen others - resisted only a few seconds longer before they, too, burned. Tal screamed with rage and frustration as he realized that a full twenty per cent of his forces - his remaining forces - had perished at one stroke.
He rounded on Amm. "With the warp mirrors, we could have blasted the Romulan filth with their own weapons! Where is the god?"
If Amm had an answer, it was lost in the sudden screaming of alarms, the flash-bangs from consoles, the shuddering of the ship from impacts. "Enterprise in weapons range!" yelled the tactical officer. "Shields down to forty per cent! Hull breach, deck seventeen!"
"Return fire!" Tal shrieked. He turned to Amm again. "We need the warp mirror, the warp cannon! We need them now! Or your god has failed us!"
"The god does not fail," said Amm, almost plaintively. "We must trust that this is part of his plan -"
The ship shuddered again. "Port weapons offline! Shields failing!"
"This is not part of a plan!" screamed Tal. "Your god has abandoned us! Sebreac Tharr has failed!"
"No! No!" Amm wailed in reply. "You cannot say that! You cannot defame the god!" He waved his flame-tipped rod of office at Tal. "In the name of Sebreac Tharr, I rebuke you!"
The stylized flame pointed straight at Tal's heart. Nothing happened.
Tal swore loudly, drew his laser pistol and fired. Nyredalit Amm toppled backwards, his face a picture of horror and woe, around the smoking crater drilled between his eyes.
Tal had one moment to exult, and then the deck leaped away from under his feet. The lights went out. The noise and glare of exploding consoles filled the bridge. Tal landed heavily on the bucking deck, scrambled to his feet. Red emergency lights came on.
"Dorsal nacelle ruptured," someone was saying in a weak voice. "Hull breaches, all decks. EPS grid fluctuating, main power down. Shields down. Structural integrity at twelve per cent."
Tal looked wildly around him. The comms console, somehow, was still intact. He dropped his pistol, ran towards it, opened all the hailing frequencies with one smash of his hand against the switches.
"Glaive to Enterprise!" he screeched. "Glaive to all ships! This is Grand Marshal Tal! Stand down! We surrender! Tal to fleet, all ships, surrender! Surrender! We surrender! We surrender!"
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