Death in Winter - Michael Jan Friedman [92]
“Poetic,” Suran observed dryly.
“Get your fleet ready,” Donatra said affectionately, “and we will write the next verse together.”
Her colleague chuckled. “Suran out.”
Next, she had her com officer contact her group leaders. They logged on one after the other-first Macaiah, then Lurian, then Tavakoros.
“The moment has arrived,” she told them. “Together we will shape the future of the Empire. Though these are Romulans we fight, show them no mercy, for they will show you none. And when the battle is over, Braeg will raise statues to you in Victory Square.”
Her group leaders applauded the notion. They had been waiting for this moment without complaint-unlike some of their centurions. However, each was more eager than the next to put an end to the praetor’s regime.
“Donatra out,” she said, and had her officer sever the link.
Tomalak’s force, ignorant of their plans, hadn’t moved on the viewscreen. But they would move soon enough.
“Shields up,” Donatra told her tactical officer. “Power weapons.”
“Yes, Commander,” came the response.
She turned to her helm officer. “Take us in. Half-impulse speed.”
“As you wish, Commander.”
As Donatra’s warbird leaped ahead, she sat down in her chair and leaned forward. Soon enough, my love. Soon enough….
Braeg wasn’t surprised when he saw twin rivers of Tal’aura’s black-garbed Capital Guardsmen come pouring into Victory Square. After all, he had finally committed treason, rallying the populace to overthrow the government.
He might have chosen that moment to flee and go into hiding. But he was a soldier, and he hadn’t forged his reputation by running from his enemies.
Still, he didn’t command anyone to help him. In fact, he didn’t say anything at all. He just watched and waited.
And at precisely the right moment, Braeg’s own centurions made their move.
They had positioned themselves on the edges of the crowd, looking like anyone else who had come to hear the admiral speak. And like anyone else, they had moved aside when the guardsmen came streaming into the square.
But unlike the other citizens in the square, they had disruptors concealed beneath their garb. And now that Tal’aura’s men had rushed past them, they drew those disruptors and began to fire.
Confused, the guardsmen whirled and attempted to fire back. However, they were being attacked from too many directions. And their own forces were bunched together, making them ridiculously easy targets.
Of course, the greater part of the crowd-made up of true innocents-was unavoidably caught in the middle of the square. However, they were forgotten by Tal’aura’s police and therefore left mercifully unscathed.
As Braeg looked on, he saw his men chip away at the guardsmen, cutting down one cornered rodent after another. Which is what happens, he noted, when the Capital Guard tries to match wits with the man who beat the Wetraza at Crannac Oghila.
And, producing a disruptor of his own, he added his fire to that of his partisans.
Tomalak eyed his viewscreen, where a tightly bunched squadron of enemy warbirds was plunging headlong toward the center of his formation, their disruptors painting fiery streaks on the void. Obviously, they intended to break through and attack the Defense Force from behind.
Not today, he thought, tapping a stud on his armrest to open a link to the group leader in charge of his center.
“Pontikanos,” he said, “pull your ships back.”
“But there is a squadron- “
“I am not blind,” said Tomalak, cutting Pontikanos short. “I see it too. Now do as I say.”
Then Tomalak contacted two other group leaders and gave them instructions as well. That should do the trick, he thought, as he waited to see the results.
Pontikanos’s ships retreated in accordance with his order, allowing the enemy to proceed through the position they had abdicated. For a moment, it seemed that Donatra’s warbirds would pierce Tomalak’s shield.
But when Donatra’s vessels came shooting through, they found themselves confronted by defenders that had formerly fortified the extremities of Tomalak