Death of a Neutron Star - Eric Kotani [2]
"Captain Qavim," Janeway said, turning to face him squarely. "If attacked, we will defend ourselves. Do I make myself clear?"
"We have the right to our property," he said, seemingly sneering at her, if she was interpreting his expression correctly.
"Any attempt to destroy or capture the other craft before a peaceful resolution is reached will be regarded as a hostile military action against us." Janeway stared at him, not blinking. "Trust that we will respond accordingly."
The Qavok captain's eye slits seemed to enlarge slightly; then he cut off, leaving only Tyla on the screen.
"Stand ready," Tyla said to Janeway. "He will not wait the five minutes. He will attack."
"Thank you," Janeway said, smiling. "We can take care of ourselves. You just hold your position."
"Thank you, Captain," Tyla said, and cut the connection.
Janeway turned to Chakotay and nodded.
"Shields up," he said. "Stand by weapons."
Janeway sat down in her chair as the first volley of the Qavok's directed energy weapons hit Voyager.
"Short five minutes," Tom said.
"The guy's predictable," Janeway said, holding her coffee cup to keep what was left of it from spilling in the slight shaking.
"Screens holding," Chakotay said. "One hundred percent."
"No report of damage, Captain," Kim said.
"Return fire," she ordered. "Target their weapons only. We don't want to destroy them and start an all-out war."
It took only five quick shots, less than three seconds, before the Qavok frigate was disarmed.
"Cease fire," Janeway said. "Hail Captain Qavim."
"Hailing, Captain," Kim said.
A few moments passed. "No response, Captain."
Janeway leaned back in her chair and sipped her cold but still wonderful coffee. "We'll just let him sit for a minute," she said. "Give him time to have a cup of coffee and think over his options."
On the bridge of the Qavok frigate, reports of damage poured in. A faint smell of smoke filled the air, and Qavim's junior officers standing at three stations seemed far too excited for their own good. Excited officers are reckless officers, he thought. He would have them replaced later.
"Gun Turret Number One totally destroyed!" Qubo, his executive officer, said. "No survivors."
"Go on," Qavim said.
"Gun Turret Number Two completely demolished. No crew reporting in. All presumed dead."
Qavim nodded and the list of damage continued. The naturally cheerless atmosphere of the Qavok bridge was now grim. Only the executive officer's voice droned on through the faint smoke and smell of burnt wires.
Qavim partially listened while thinking back over the last few minutes. He had underestimated his enemy. He would not make that mistake again, providing there was an "again." Surviving to have another chance at that ship would have to be his priority.
After the list of damage was finished, he stood up from his captain's chair as if trying to regain a measure of control over his destiny.
"They hail us, Captain."
"No response," he said, staring at the screen and the alien ship floating between him and the yacht. "Withdraw from the combat zone immediately."
"Yes, Captain!" His executive officer executed the order without delay.
As the ship turned and moved off, Qavim again sat down in his command chair. He had made a mistake that should have gotten them killed. For all he knew, Voyager's captain could have been as bloodthirsty as many of his fellow officers in the Qavok Space Forces. She might still come after his frigate to finish it off, if he provoked her sufficiently. But he didn't feel she would. He had been taught that retreat could be the wisest course of action under some circumstances. Not often, but now seemed to be one of those times.
He would retreat, repair their weapons, and possibly watch from a safe distance for the next move Voyager