Nuru-Or comes screaming into 54 Eridani space, into the blasting and glare of an all-out war.
Behind me, Skaldak and Knobos crash out of subspace, weapons hot. I am comforted. I am not greatly comforted, as it is necessary to take Thrang, or at least confirm his death, and the confusion of a space battle is not the best place to do that.
"S-s-s-s-s. What is the tactical situation?" I ask.
"The Grand Imperial forces are fighting the Kobali cruiser," says Laska. The flash of a core breach illuminates the screen. "And losing," she adds.
"We tentatively identified that Nihydron ship as Thrang's, yes?"
"Yes. It seems to be acting as flagship for the Imperials - which would make sense, if it is Thrang's ship and he is now Emperor. It is the only vessel which can even put up a fight against the Kobali."
Lights are flashing on the comms console. I hit it, and Rrueo's and Shalo's faces appear on the small screen. "What exactly is happening?" I ask.
"Thrang's tools appear to be fighting amongst themselves," says Shalo. "We should wait for the dust to settle, then pick through the wreckage, I think."
"Rrueo disagrees." The Ferasan's face is grim. "Rrueo has performed sensor scans. There is a disturbing factor. The Kobali ship is loaded with complex organics. Alpha-furanizol. For Rrueo to be able to detect the compound, at this range and in this much sensor noise, there must be a very great deal of it."
"S-s-s-s-s. Why would the Kobali ship be carrying huge quantities of poison -?" The answer comes as soon as I frame the question. "To make more Kobali. Indeed, to mass produce more Kobali."
"Thrang would not allow his empire to be destroyed -" Shalo begins.
"Thrang now knows Sarv has failed him," I interrupt her. "Perhaps he now seeks a new Kobali power base. In any case -"
"Mass murder of civilians," says Rrueo. "Rrueo is not often idealistic, but... the Empire is supposed to stand for something, after all."
"And," says Shalo, "if we defend the Grand Imperials, they may be more accommodating later, when we ask for the head of their new Emperor.... Very well. Let us do the decent and proper thing." She laughs. "At least it will be a novelty."
"Battle cloak," I order, and, "Threat assessment."
"Heavily modified Kobali Samsar-class cruiser," says Laska. "Reman style shields and deflector, Vaadwaur polaron armament... I do not recognize the engine readings, they may have been individually customized by Thrang."
"Complex hybrid technologies," I muse, while I sketch out a battle plan on the tac console. "The sort of thing Starfleet's Experimental Engineering Division likes to play with. S-s-s-s-s. Perhaps we should send them any remaining usable fragments." Rrueo and Shalo are signalling approval of the tactical plan. "Range?"
"Three thousand kellicams and closing rapidly."
"Steer two six mark two. On my order, hard about." The Grand Imperium's navy is being slowly swatted away, antique ships tumbling in flame across the sky. The Nihydron ship is dealing out a reasonable amount of damage, but not enough to trouble those high-powered Reman-designed shields... and the Nihydron itself is taking polaron fire, and suffering.
"Skaldak is - in position. Knobos is - approaching position. All-bands hail from - General Shalo."
"Let us hear it, at least."
Shalo's face comes up on the main screen. "I am General Shalo of the House of Sinoom," she announces, "personal emissary of the Chancellor and the High Council of the Klingon Empire. Grand Imperium ships, clear this area, now. To the commander of the Kobali vessel approaching 54 Eridani V - power down your drives, shields and weapons, and eject your warp core, now, as a signal of unconditional surrender. No further warnings will be given." And she looks, very definitely, as though she means it.
I check the tac display. The Samsar is still boring straight in for the planet, blasting defensive satellites and the occasional quixotic Imperial relic out of its path as it goes. The Nihydron ship is swinging around for another pass at the Samsar's port shields. Whoever is handling that ship has some talent, but it will not be enough.
A new voice sounds on the comms channels. "This is General Jhey'quar. We do not take orders from the High Council, or from Kalevar Thrang, or from any source but our own destiny. This is not your fight, Orion. Do not involve yourself." So. We can be reasonably certain that Kalevar Thrang is not on that ship.
And mine are in position. "Hard about, three five five mark zero. Lock torpedoes. Sensors, stand ready. All cannons to rapid fire. Commence attack run."
Nuru-Or swings sharply around, aiming herself directly at the oncoming Samsar. From this angle, the ship's deflector and sensor grid, with armour above and below, and the two sharp prongs at each side, looks like the toothy maw of some hungry predator. On the screen, it expands towards us. I count off the range in my head.
"Fire torpedoes." Balls of green-hot burning light spout from our launchers. "Decloak and open fire!"
Nuru-Or shimmers into visibility to launch a ghostly spray of antiproton bolts which make the Kobali ship's forward screens flare and waver. Knobos has come about, has deployed fighters and support platforms, is directing withering fire onto the Kobali's flank. Skaldak is hanging back. It must irk Rrueo, but she is where I need her to be.
The grin of the Samsar is suddenly disfigured by bursts of flame as our bolts pierce its failing shields... but the damage is merely superficial, as yet, and the Kobali ship shows as much, with a sudden barrage of polaron fire. Our own shields flare in response, and there is a flash-bang on the bridge as a conduit overloads. "Steady," I hiss.
Nuru-Or hurtles forward into the hail of fire, guns spitting out bolt after bolt... and as we slant upwards, over the frowning brow of the Samsar, I order, "Vent warp plasma now!"
Charged particles spill from our rear vents, enveloping the Samsar in an auroral fog. Through it, bolts of antiprotons and polarons flash. We are running an evasion pattern, but the Kobali gunners are good; our shields are weakening, the ship is rocking from impacts, and the damage control board is... disheartening. I can only hope that Laska, on the science console, is getting what we need -
We slam past the tall fin at the rear of the Samsar's hull, trailing warp plasma and fire. "Hard about!" I order. Shields are lower than I would like -
A weak burst of phaser fire comes from somewhere on our starboard quarter. The Pioneer-class ship, the one we encountered on our first visit to this system. It is approaching the Samsar in an act of futile defiance. Its phasers barely irritate the big ship's shields - but they elicit a polaron barrage in reply. Flaming craters erupt on the Pioneer's forward saucer; the fragile domes of the Bussard collectors shatter at once. The Pioneer yaws violently; another polaron barrage rips away a nacelle and opens the engineering hull to space.
Considerate of them to die on our behalf. "Targeting solution is locked," Laska reports.
"Take out their shield emitters! All cannons rapid fire!"
Kobali. They are very protective of their second lives. That cruiser is layered about with protective measures, with armour and reactive nanites and regenerative integrity fields... to hurt it seriously, we must strike, not just hard, but accurately, overwhelming its shields at precision points, damaging the emitters to take the shields offline - temporarily, until repairs are made, but I do not propose to allow them time to make repairs....
Nuru-Or's cannons roar, following the precise guidelines laid down by Laska's sensor suite, and the eldritch glow of the Reman-designed shields flickers and fades.
"Now!" I yell over the comms channels. The Samsar is laying down a punishing barrage of polaron fire in order to protect itself - my ship is shaking, my shields are in tatters, and the lurid light of exploding conduits is flooding the bridge. Distractions. I ignore them.
My ship hurtles back towards the Kobali, weapons blazing. The cruiser's thick, slab-sided armoured flanks begin to disintegrate under the barrage. I am not alone in my attack. Knobos is closing in on the starboard flank, beam arrays clawing the hull armour into jagged ruins of blazing metal. There are organic shapes on the sensors, fleetingly - Kobali, blasted into space on torrents of escaping air, to die a very final second death.
Skaldak drops neatly into position, her forward weapons ablaze, her disruptor autocannon raking the Samsar's long shape, opening up the cruiser's spine.
Auxiliaries are launching - shuttles, registering cargoes of alpha-furanizol. Shalo's To'Duj fighters peel off from their attack runs to intercept. The Kobali shuttles are outmatched; they shatter in bursts of poison and flame.
Rrueo's attack has torn open a huge trench along the Samsar's upper hull. "Two four seven mark three seven two!" I shout, and Nuru-Or wheels about and points her prow directly at the monstrous wound. "Fire!"
Plasma torpedoes roar from our launchers, unimpeded by shields, to drive through the torn gaps in the hull armour and deep into the bowels of the enemy ship.
The Samsar lurches and heaves, flames spewing from its wounded hull. Nuru-Or comes about and screams in for another attack run - but there is no need; the polaron fire is slackening and failing, and the battered hull is visibly deforming as a series of explosions runs through the interior. My ship races down the length of the enemy vessel... and flies free into empty space, just as the cruiser's warp core goes, and the ship dissolves into a white-hot spray of debris. Whatever destiny Jhey'quar had in mind, he goes to face it alone, now.
My damage control board makes for sad reading, but the worst is over now - or it would be, if there were not a message light blinking on the console. I rattle out the brief version of the Ss'kra-h'ji sutra, which consoles those whose work is never done. Then I accept the call.
"One down," says Rrueo. "One to go."
"The Nihydron?" I suppose it cannot be avoided.
"Thrang's flagship," says Rrueo, and licks her fangs. "Rrueo has a plan."
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