Star Trek: The Next Generation - 119 - Armageddon's Arrow Read online

  Experience and the tremor in the deck and bulkheads informed Ehondar before the cluster’s status monitors that the ship was making the shift to faster-than-light speed. Overhead lighting flickered, and a noticeable warbling in the hum of the engines accompanied the transition.

  “Pulse drive engaged,” Ehondar reported as he moved to the closest of the tower’s consoles, noting from the status readings that the faster-than-light engine was performing above specifications. A review of another monitor showed that the ship was proceeding away from the Canborek system, on a circular course which—if all went according to plan—would in time return the Poklori gil dara to the point from which it had departed.

  In a manner of speaking, Ehondar reminded himself as he reached for the workstation. The rows of controls and switches, as with every console aboard the ship, were arranged in a manner that allowed ease of use by any member of the crew. The design scheme, developed by Ehondar and a team of technical specialists during the vessel’s construction, eschewed conventional aesthetics in favor of a sleek, simple approach that could be utilized on any workstation anywhere on the ship. This facilitated rapid cross-training and allowed any member of the crew to assume the duties of a colleague with minimal transition delays.

  In response to the commands he entered to the console, Ehondar heard the drone of the ship’s main power plant as energy was redirected away from damaged conduits to backup systems. The redundancy was one of many protective measures incorporated into the vessel’s design as a means of aiding the crew to make repairs without the benefit of a dedicated facility or other support base. This made perfect sense, given the mission for which the mammoth ship had been created, and the likelihood that once deployed to carry out that assignment, there would be no one to whom Jodis and his crew could turn for help.

  Assuming we survive the next few linzatu, Ehondar mused.

  “Have you seen the tactical scans?” a voice asked from behind him, and he turned to see Dlyren, his assistant engineer who also was trained to assist Bnira on the command deck with the ship’s weapons and defense systems. “An entire Golvonek attack squadron is pursuing us.”

  Forcing a smile, Ehondar turned from the operations cluster. “You worry too much. This ship is bigger and stronger than anything the Golvonek can send against us. Besides, Jodis is a military commander without peer. Our enemies are doomed. They simply do not yet know it.”

  Unlike the younger Raqilan, Ehondar had been involved with most of the Poklori gil dara’s early design and a fair portion of its actual construction. While Jodis and the rest of the crew had been immersed in their training regimens in preparation for this mission, Ehondar had worked with engineers throughout the building process, educating himself about every facet of the vessel from its basic framework to each of its onboard systems. There was precious little crammed into this ship of which he was not aware, let alone eminently qualified to operate. Aside from the Raqilan civilian and military leaders who had ordered the ship’s creation and those who had worked to realize its creation, Ehondar was the one individual most knowledgeable about the Poklori gil dara and everything it carried. It was this particular expertise that made him question whether the vessel might well find itself outmatched in any prolonged skirmish with a fully armed Golvonek attack squadron.

  If fortune is with us, we will soon be away from here.

  Another indicator flashed on the operations cluster’s status display, telling Ehondar that more power was being called to the ship’s defensive systems. The shields, though impressive, as they had protected the Poklori gil dara from the effects of the shock wave following the moon’s destruction, still had suffered from the stresses inflicted upon them. The generators responsible for feeding power to the shields were still operational, but now they were being pressed into further service before Ehondar and his team could inspect them. If he had any single regret about the mission he and his crewmates were undertaking, it was that despite all their training and other preparations, the truth was that the ship and those tasked with piloting and caring for it had been rushed to duty without the benefit of a proper, final acceptance exercise. Key systems remained untested, including some of the critical equipment that the crew in very short order would be entrusting with their very lives.

  Can one not say that about everything else around us?

  Setting aside the errant thought, Ehondar once more eyed the status monitors. He reached for the console, each of his right hand’s three long fingers moving to manipulate separate controls to shift the information being presented. One of the screens now offered a readout from the vessel’s tactical scanners, mimicking the same data the engineer knew Jodis and Bnira were receiving on the command deck.

  “Routing to the secondary distribution network is complete,” Dlyren reported. “Force field generators are once again at full power.”

  Ehondar nodded in approval before pressing a control to open a communications channel. “Neline and Rilajor, what is the status of the suspension cradles?”

  There was a lag before Neline, the Poklori gil dara’s medical specialist, replied, “Our preparations are nearly complete, but there may be a problem. The shock wave damaged one of the computer’s memory crystals.” Her voice faded for a linzat as she moved away from the communications port to say something Ehondar could not hear, though the annoyance and earnestness in her tone was evident as she issued instructions to her assistant before returning her attention to him. “I have replaced the crystal from reserve storage, but now I must update the procedures overseeing the suspension and revival process. The auxiliary storage modules were not properly revised with the most current procedures prior to our departure.”

  Grunting in frustration, Ehondar rubbed the skin on the top of his smooth head. That oversight was one of many which had plagued the ship since its departure, though this one, at least, could be explained by the secretive nature of the mission Jodis and his crew had been given. Final determinations and instructions regarding the Poklori gil dara’s projected course and target of its pending mission had been protected almost until the moment of the vessel’s departure, necessitating a flurry of rushed updates to the computer to incorporate newly disseminated information. Most of the required revisions could be dealt with at a more opportune time, but those affecting the suspension cradles were of particular concern.

  Time. The single word burned in his mind. We needed more time. Both he and Jodis had requested sufficient opportunity to make these sorts of final adjustments. Given the mission and its parameters, time seemed the one luxury that could be afforded. Much to Ehondar’s disappointment and utter lack of surprise, Raqilan senior military leadership had disagreed with the recommendations, for reasons surpassing understanding.

  “Acknowledged,” Ehondar replied into the open channel, catching himself before he could append a string of vile oaths. “Keep me informed,” he instead said, before tapping the communications control to terminate the connection.

  “Ehondar,” said Dlyren, and the engineer turned to see his protégé moving to the operations cluster. Dlyren pressed a series of controls, and Ehondar watched as the data stream on another of the monitors shifted. “These readings indicate that the chronopulse drive will not be ready before the attack squadron engages us.”

  “We are not helpless,” Ehondar said, allowing a hint of irritation to punctuate his reply. “Our weapons are more than sufficient to repel their attack long enough to make the transition.”

  “But what of the calculations?” Dlyren pressed. “They require constant refinement, particularly if we are under way at the time of transition.”

  Ehondar nodded. “I understand the variables, and the risks.” Still, Dlyren had raised a valid observation. Temporal displacement was a dangerous exercise, even when all possible safety precautions were observed. Having borne witness to the experiments conducted with automated drones as the technology was perfected, Ehondar had s
een both successes and failures as the test craft were pushed mere linzatu into the future and retrieved for study. Those had been controlled trials, with limited parameters and posing very little danger. What the Poklori gil dara was about to undertake, however, was another matter altogether, and the suspension cradles were a vital part of the process. Without them, the crew—at least as far as all of the scientist and engineers who had worked to perfect the chronopulse drive had come to believe—would not survive the displacement.

  “Tend to your duties,” Ehondar said, gesturing for Dlyren to return to his station. “We all have much to do if this outlandish venture is to succeed.”

  All around them, the ship shuddered as though rocked by an enormous impact. Ehondar sensed the fluctuations in the gravity plating beneath his feet and lunged for his console to steady himself. Dlyren mimicked his actions, and Ehondar saw the expression of worry on the younger Raqilan’s face as the entire engineering space echoed with the whine of the engines, an objection echoed by the very frame of the ship itself.

  “The pulse drive is offline!” Dlyren shouted above the new chorus of alarms which had begun wailing throughout the chamber.

  “Assess damage!” Ehondar snapped, his fingers already moving across his console as he worked to ascertain the ship’s status. As before, an alarming number of indicators were flashing. Grunting in irritation, he slammed his hand down upon the control to activate the communications channel.

  “Jodis! We have lost the pulse drive!”

  * * *

  Were he to ignore the information relayed to him by his console and his engineer, Jodis might almost believe that the ship was suffering no ill effects from the assault being waged against it. However, his instrumentation was providing a much different interpretation of current events.

  “Can you restore the drive?” Jodis asked, still digesting Ehondar’s report.

  “Not while we are fighting the Golvonek,” the engineer replied. “I need power reserves that are being routed to defenses.”

  Jodis nodded, having anticipated the answer. “Divert all efforts to readying the chronopulse drive. We will continue to repel the attack.” The Golvonek attack squadron had wasted no time engaging the Poklori gil dara, with each of the thirteen ships breaking off and launching independent, simultaneous strikes. Most of the initial volleys had been absorbed by the vessel’s protective force fields, but the squadron had pressed its assault and now it was beginning to tally hits that were inflicting legitimate damage.

  “Force fields are wavering near the rear coolant exchange manifolds,” Bnira said. There was obvious worry in her voice, but that was the only outward sign of her growing unease. Glancing up, Jodis saw that the alert indicators on her console bathed the skin of her smooth head in a wash of blinking colors. She was keeping her focus on her own station, her hands moving across the rows of controls with purpose and determination. “And we took another strike near the weapons port at that location. The port is offline.”

  Jodis already was aware of this latest damage to the ship, thanks to various status indicators flashing on his own console. The shields were a concern, of course, but so too was the weapons port. Aside from the antiproton cannon, which was its principle offensive armament, the Poklori gil dara also carried conventional particle weapons mounted all along its outer hull. With the oversized vessel unable to carry out the sorts of evasive tactics on which smaller craft relied during combat, those ports provided the ship with its chief means of defense. Losing any one weapon opened up a gap in the protective field of fire, allowing perceptive opponents to capitalize on the perimeter breach and perhaps inflict more harm to that undefended area.

  The hum of the ship’s engines dropped in pitch as Bnira once more engaged weapons. Studying the targeting scanner, Jodis saw the fifth of what originally had been thirteen icons denoting Golvonek ships turn and move away from the others. “Another hit!”

  “Yes,” Bnira replied. “Its forward shields are down, and scans show damage to its forward weapons ports.” A linzat later she added, “The ship is retreating.”

  “Increasing to maximum speed,” Jodis said, tapping the controls necessary to call for the much-needed acceleration. On the scanner, he saw the larger avatar representing the Poklori gil dara moving away from the eight remaining Golvonek ships, but the diminished squadron was falling into formation in pursuit. Beneath his hands, his console trembled yet again, communicating yet another strike from enemy weapons against the shields.

  “Shields at the rear manifolds are offline,” Bnira reported. “Any further strikes there will likely damage the hull plating.”

  Even the ablative armor covering the ship’s exterior would not be able to withstand prolonged abuse from the Golvonek weapons. The vessel’s sheer size saw to it that there was no place for it to hide, and outrunning the attack squadron without the pulse drive would be impossible. The only option remaining to Jodis and his crew was to continue mounting whatever defense they could muster and buy time for Ehondar and his engineers to finalize their hurried preparations.

  Remembering a ploy he had learned while serving on an escort ship earlier in his career that had been assigned to one of the Raqilan fleet’s larger and far less-maneuverable fighter transport vessels, Jodis keyed a new set of commands to the directional thrusters. “I am initiating a roll,” he said, for Bnira’s benefit. “That should help protect the vulnerable section. Program the remaining weapons ports to compensate and engage automated tracking. Full defensive fire patterns.” He hoped that the intensified barrage of fire from the ship’s array of weapons ports would at least keep the remaining Golvonek ships occupied for the next few precious linzatu.

  “Acknowledged,” Bnira replied. “I do not believe this will protect us for very long.”

  “It will not need to,” Jodis countered. “If we do not make the jump, it will not matter.” Shifting his gaze from his instruments to the viewing port, he was able to see how the Golvonek ships were reacting to the roll maneuver. They were altering their attack vectors in a bid to focus their weapons at points along the Poklori gil dara’s hull that now were moving even as the vessel itself continued to accelerate on its new course heading. “We are now at maximum velocity. Are the calculations for the chronopulse drive ready?”

  “Ehondar reported that Rilajor and Gagil were still making adjustments,” Bnira said, referring to the two members of the engineering team tasked with overseeing the care of the still-untested chronopulse drive.

  Engaging the controls which would allow the onboard computer to pilot the ship while compensating for the feeble defensive maneuvers he had enacted, Jodis once more opened the communications channel, this time setting it so that his message was broadcast throughout the ship. “This is Jodis. Secure your stations and report to the suspension cradles.”

  Without waiting for any responses, he released the harness holding him into his seat. “It is time,” he said, gesturing for Bnira to follow him from the command deck. He used the cockpit’s weightless environment to propel himself into the connecting tunnel, feeling the first tendrils of gravity seize hold of him as he reached for the conduit’s access ladder.

  Reaching for rungs on the ladder was enough to push him through the constricted passage, by which time the effects of the normal gravity plating had taken hold. Jodis emerged headfirst, rising from the open port in the deck plating and up onto the main passageway which ran from front to rear the length of the ship’s habitable areas. He offered a hand to Bnira as she climbed from the tunnel before both of them began running down the larger corridor. Only once was Jodis thrown off balance as another barrage from one or more of the Golvonek ships impacted against the Poklori gil dara’s hull. He stumbled and nearly fell to the deck, but he managed to maintain his footing as he and Bnira pressed forward.

  They arrived in the suspension chamber, and Jodis saw that three of the room’s eight peculiar cradles alre
ady were occupied by members of his crew. Dlyren, Gagil, and Waeno were settling into their suspension cradles, which looked like nothing more than compact beds tucked into transparent cylinders.

  Looking to Neline, who was overseeing everyone’s preparations, Jodis asked, “You have completed your updates to the computer for the cradles?”

  The medical specialist replied, “The suspension and revival procedures are now set, but I did not have time to run a complete test of the configurations. However, none of those settings were altered before the damage, so the risk should be minimal.”

  Bnira said, “Or, at least no more severe than anything else.”

  “Correct. The remaining calculations have also been programmed.” Neline was speaking in rapid, clipped tones that conveyed the urgency of the situation. “Once we are in suspension, the ship will nullify forward acceleration and execute the chronopulse jump.”

  “And what if the Golvonek lock on to us before the jump?” asked Bnira as she unfastened the closures on her flight suit and stepped out of the garment. Now nude, she held her arms away from her body as Neline’s assistant, Rilajor, began applying small sensors at key points along her bare skin.

  “Then our journey will be a short one,” said Neline before turning to Jodis, who also had disrobed, and affixing similar sensors to his body.

  Behind Neline, Ehondar turned from a workstation along the room’s far bulkhead, which Jodis could see was being used to maintain constant vigil on the ship’s status. “Another shield generator has gone offline, as have three more weapons ports. We are running out of time.”