Enigma - Michael Jan Friedman [22]
Greenbriar took a breath and let it out slowly. Come on. Don’t make me rip you apart. Show some sense.
And for a moment, it looked like the mystery vessel might do that. Then Bolaris yelled out, “She’s firing!”
Suddenly, a mess of pale green beams erupted at them, coming from half a dozen recessed weapons ports. It was an impressive-looking barrage—the type of firepower the Cochise herself might have displayed if Greenbriar had been intent on turning an enemy into space dust.
“Evasive maneuvers!” he called out.
Hohauser reacted as brilliantly as ever, getting every last bit of speed and maneuverability out of the Cochise. He couldn’t escape the mystery ship’s beams entirely, but at worst they would take a glancing blow.
Or so it seemed to Greenbriar—until he felt a violent shudder run through the ship, as if she had been slapped by a giant hand.
What was that? he wondered, hanging on to his armrests. The way Hohauser had slipped the brunt of the attack, they should barely have felt a thing.
“Sir,” said Cangelosi, a strain of puzzlement in her voice, “shields are down eighteen percent.”
Greenbriar was puzzled as well. He got up to confirm Cangelosi’s reading and saw that she was right. Eighteen percent—when they had barely been grazed? It didn’t seem possible.
Judging by the look on Dolgin’s face, he didn’t think so either. And Dolgin wasn’t an easy man to impress.
“Return fire!” Greenbriar commanded, and the Cochise unleashed a directed-energy barrage of her own.
It struck the alien vessel amidships, delivering an impact that should have made her commander think twice about continuing the fray. But the enemy didn’t seem daunted in the least. In fact, she came after the Cochise a second time, her weapons ports blazing with redoubled fury.
This time, the captain didn’t have to call for evasive action. His helm officer was already on it, wrenching them hard to port.
Again, the enemy’s beams barely grazed them. And again, Greenbriar felt his ship shudder as if it had been pounded.
What’s going on here? he asked himself. Then, because he couldn’t come up with an answer, he posed the same question out loud.
But no one else had an answer either—not even Dolgin, who was known to have an answer for everything. And before they could give the matter any real thought, the enemy placed the Cochise in her sights again.
This time, Hohauser wasn’t able to give them the slip. When the energy barrage hit, it jerked the deck out from under Greenbriar’s feet, sending him staggering into a bulkhead.
Thrusting himself off it, he saw one of the aft consoles explode. Fortunately, his science officer was no longer sitting in front of it, since she had been slammed to the deck.
A cloud of sparks and black smoke rose from the console, drawing the attention of a crewman with a fire extinguisher. But the bridge was already filling with the smell of burning conduits.
“Shields down seventy-eight percent!” Cangelosi barked. “Hull breaches on decks eight and nine!”
Greenbriar muttered a curse. In the past, his deflectors had held up under worse punishment. What made the aliens’ fire so damned effective against them?
“Casualties?” Dolgin asked.
“Coming in now, sir,” said Moy. “Crewmen down on decks eight, nine, and ten. Medical teams are on their way.”
Greenbriar watched the enemy ship on his viewscreen. She was dogging them but holding her fire—as if she knew she could take out the Cochise whenever she wanted.
The captain was determined to show the aliens the pitfalls of overconfidence. “Give me a full torpedo spread,” he ordered his weapons officer.
“Aye, sir,” came Bolaris’s reply, his antennae twitching. And a moment later: “Ready when you are, sir.”
Greenbriar didn’t hesitate. “Fire!”
The Cochise’s torpedo launchers sent their matter-antimatter payloads streaking across the void like a swarm of golden arrows. And Bolaris