Lost Time (9 page)

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Authors: Ilsa J. Bick

Tags: #Fiction, #Science Fiction, #General, #Action & Adventure, #Space Opera

BOOK: Lost Time
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Li
reports Commander Duffy aboard,” said Susan Haznedl from ops.

Gold nodded. “Very well. Salek, initiate saucer separation.”

“Acknowledged.”

Gold felt a perceptible jolt and then a tremor shimmy through the deckplates of the battle bridge as the eighteen docking latches and umbilical blocks tethering the
Gettysburg
’s saucer to the battle section detached. On the main viewscreen, a green etched schematic showed the ellipse of the saucer lifting away and forward from the battle section. “And now, Captain Kira, there are three,” Gold murmured.

“Saucer separation complete,” said McAllan. “Automatic path termination seals to the turbolift shafts are locked.”

“Good. Raise shields. Red alert.” Klaxons shrilled. The light in the battle bridge section was always darker than in the saucer’s bridge, and now, going to red alert, the shadows lengthened into rust-colored slashes.
Like drying blood.
“Weapons status.”

“Phasers charged and ready. Photon torpedoes are online. Commander Salek reports that shuttlecraft
Templar
is standing by, sir.”

“Thank you, McAllan,” said Gold. “Let’s make sure we give the Cardassians something infinitely more interesting to look at. Wong, give me visual of where we’re headed.”

The schematic of the separated vessels winked out to be replaced by a swath of space that was smeary with the purple and deep fuchsia contrails of ion storms and superheated plasma. Sizzling bolts of white-hot energy arced into streamers of cobalt and cerulean blue that, somehow, miraculously stood out against the darker background of space. There were no stars visible at all in the densest region of the Belt where they were headed and it was as if a child had upended a pot of paints over a black canvas, splaying colors in a bright, pulsating, riotous Medusa’s halo. The sight nearly took his breath away.

“My God, it’s beautiful,” said Wong, his voice barely audible. “Like something out of a dream.”

“You have some pretty interesting dreams,” said McAllan. “Captain, the area’s lousy with radiation. If our shields so much as burp for more than a couple minutes, we’re gonna fry.”

“Well, you’ll just have to make sure they don’t. Believe me, if our shields don’t hold when we detonate all that stuff out there, frying’s going to be the least of your worries. Wong, course three-three-zero, mark one-five. Take us right into the heart of it; three-quarters impulse.”

“Aye, sir.”

“McAllan, how long before we reach minimum safe distance to discharge the deflector array?” They’d debated that one around and around, settling finally for the option that would lower their chances of a miss.

“Estimate we’ll reach the specified coordinates in ten point seven minutes, sir.”

“All right. Once we discharge the deflector array keep those shields steady. What about the
Li
and the saucer section?”

“Taking flanking positions, Captain, covering our tails and…”

Gold was instantly attuned to the hitch in McAllan’s voice. “Lieutenant?”

In the bloody half-light, McAllan’s skin had gone dead white. “Cardassian vessels, Captain, on an intercept course. Two
Keldon,
one
Hideki.
Their shields are up; I read that they have energized their weapons and—Sir, Salek and the
Li
are moving to cover! The Cardassians are firing!”

“Hard about! Return fire!” Kira was up and out of her seat. Another disruptor slammed against the
Li
on the port side, and an inertial damper stuttered offline for an instant because Kira was thrown back and crashed to the deck against a weapons console. There was a blinding flash as a circuit shorted, and then someone was screaming to her right. Kira caught the acrid odor of burning metal, scorched hair and singed flesh. She twisted around in time to see the communications officer’s uniform erupt in a ball of flame.

“Get a medic up here!” Charging, Kira flung herself at the woman. They crashed to the deck, and Kira went spread-eagled, smothering the flames as the screeching woman writhed beneath her. Starbursts of pain seared Kira’s palms and chest, and flames licked the underside of her neck, but she held on, praying her own hair wouldn’t ignite. “Return fire! Take out their disruptors!”

“Can’t!” Her tactical officer’s face was smeary with fresh blood and soot. He turned aside and spat out a gobbet of rust-colored saliva. A rivulet of blood tracked down his chin. “Our weapons are offline! Shields at fifty percent!”

“Engineering!” A medic came charging onto the bridge, and as Kira rolled away, another disruptor pulse battered their hull. Kira clawed her way back to her command chair. She banged open a channel with her fist, ignoring the scream of pain that lanced her scorched hand and forearm. “Duffy! We need weapons!”

“Trying, Captain!”
Duffy’s voice was frayed with static, and Kira heard the background gabble of voices.
“It’s all I can do right now to keep your engines and shields online. I can steal power from life support.”

“Do it!” Kira jerked her head to her helmsman. “Initiate evasive maneuvers, best speed, Kira-Three!”

The stars on her viewscreen wheeled as the
Li
rocketed nearly perpendicular to an imaginary horizon in a steep, swirling, spiral climb. In an atmosphere, there would have been the howl of air screaming over a canopy, and anyone on the ground would have seen the assault vessel twirling on its long axis, presenting as little surface area as possible to the enemy. But the
Li
was sluggish; Kira felt it and saw how the stars cartwheeled in a giddy slow motion.

Not fast enough, we can’t get up the speed; they’ll take us out with the next couple of salvos unless…
“Where’s the saucer?”

“She managed to slip in between that lead
Keldon
and the
Gettysburg,
but she’s angling off and dropping back, Captain. She’s got a hull rupture somewhere. I read vented atmosphere and debris.”

“What’s her speed?”

“One-half impulse…now one-quarter. Slewing back our way…they must have lost control, Captain. She’s a sitting duck!”

Kira’s heart banged against her ribs. “Is the
Hideki
still in pursuit of the saucer?”

“Negative, breaking away. Turning now. Captain, they’re coming after us.”

A surge of elation roared through her veins, and her mouth filled with the metallic edge of adrenaline.
That’s right, there are bigger fish to fry than that old, banged-up saucer, so come on!
“What about the
Gettysburg?
” Kira’s voice was suddenly thinning to a wheeze. The air on the bridge was getting thick and tasted of oily soot, and wasn’t going to get any better if Duffy had rerouted power for environmental controls to the engines. Her eyes began to burn. “Where is she? Is she in position?”

“Estimate seven minutes, fifty-seven seconds.” Her tactical officer armed blood and sweat from his eyes. The air was thick enough that his eyes were streaming. “That second warship’s come about, right on the
Gettysburg
’s tail, accelerating.” Looking at the console, he added, “Incoming message, Captain—it’s the
Gettysburg!

“On speaker.” The bridge was suddenly awash in the electric sizzle of interference, a sound like butter sputtering on a hot grill. Kira strained to catch what Gold was shouting, then decided there wasn’t time to worry about it. She hailed engineering. “Duffy?”

Duffy’s voice was clogged, and he was hacking.
“Sorry, Captain, but you’ve got a choice. It’s either speed or more shields.”

“I need weapons.”

“No can do.”

This is it. We knew it would come to this, now I’ve just got to trust that
—“Then give me speed, Duffy. Give me all you’ve got.” She clicked off. “Helm, come about. Course zero-nine-zero, mark four-five, z minus thirty.” Her helmsman’s back stiffened, and he half-turned. “You heard me,” she snapped. “Bring us
about.

Her helmsman’s throat moved in a hard swallow. “Aye, Captain. Course laid in.”

“Engage.”

“Lower your shields!” Gold bellowed in frustration. “Kira, do you hear me, lower—”

“She’s coming about, Captain,” McAllan said. “The
Li
’s jumped to full impulse—ramming speed. Their shields are at twenty percent; they’re dodging, taking evasive maneuvers—she’s going to hit them broadside in fourteen point eight seconds.”

“Can we help her?”

“Negative, sir, not unless we come about, and the other
Keldon
’s too close, they’ll take us out for sure.”

“Kira!” Gold whirled on his heel. “Haznedl, get me Salek.”

“You’ve got him, sir.”

“Salek,
now,
jettison escape pods!”

“Acknowledged, Captain.”
Even in the heat of battle, the Vulcan’s voice was a study of calm certitude.
“Pods jettisoned. The
Templar
is away.”

“Haznedl, can you raise the
Li?

“Still trying, Captain and—got her, sir.”

“Kira!” Gold roared. “
Now,
for the love of God,
now!

“Captain!” Kira’s tactical officer whipped around in his chair. “The saucer’s jettisoned escape pods, and their shields are down. Time to impact
Keldon
warship—nine seconds.”

“What about the
Templar?

“She’s away. No pursuit.”

Because she’s not worth worrying about, is she? Oh boy, have you bastards got another thing coming.
“Give me visual.” Kira saw the tiny speck that was the
Templar
accelerating out of the Denorios Belt; the
Gettysburg
’s escape pods tumbling wildly through space, like a child’s building blocks knocked askew; the pods dispersing in a wide arc the way waves expand after a rock’s ruptured the surface of water. And then the screen shimmered and there was the sickly brown hull of a
Keldon
warship rushing to meet them. “Drop shields!”

“Captain,” her tactical officer shouted, “the
Keldon
’s firing.”

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