Enigma - Michael Jan Friedman [23]
That’ll teach them, he thought, and returned to his chair.
But when the light display faded and the enemy was visible again, it was obvious that she was still intact. No—better than that, Greenbriar mused bitterly. She hadn’t even been scratched by the torpedo barrage.
The captain wasn’t often given to profanity, but he swore under his breath a second time. This was insane. It reminded him of a nightmare he had had once, where he was fighting a boyhood adversary but none of his blows had any effect.
But why should that be? What made this vessel different from any of the others Greenbriar had encountered over the years? What was her secret?
He would have dearly loved to know the answer to that question. But the way this battle was going, he didn’t dare allow the Cochise to linger a moment longer.
“Get us out of here,” he told Hohauser.
The helmsman wasn’t used to hearing those words from Greenbriar, but he took them in stride and brought the Cochise about. Then he accelerated to warp eight.
However, the mystery vessel didn’t seem willing to let them off the hook. She came about and matched the starship’s speed, remaining in weapons range.
The captain eyed the viewscreen, which showed him a rear view now. His adversary seemed content to keep pace for the time being, but he didn’t expect that situation to prevail much longer.
“Full power to rear deflectors,” he said, anticipating the worst. And a moment later, he got it.
The barrage that blossomed from the enemy’s weapons ports was as beautiful as anything Greenbriar had ever seen. The screen filled with its splendor.
The captain braced himself against the impact, but it didn’t help. He was shot out of his chair as if by a catapult. Somehow, he managed to avoid hitting anything except the deck, but even that was enough to stun him for a moment.
As he regained his senses, he looked around—and saw Dolgin stretched out on the deck. Dead? the captain wondered disbelievingly, as he moved to the commander’s side. Or maybe just unconscious? He couldn’t tell—until Dolgin stirred, sending a stab of relief through his superior.
But Dolgin wasn’t the only one who had been injured by the blast. Cangelosi was cradling what looked like a broken arm as she tried to crawl back behind her console, and a stunned Moy was bleeding from a gash over his eye.
All around them, the bridge was a vision of hell, a roiling, spark-shot chaos. Consoles were aflame. The air was thick with smoke and getting thicker. And alarms were going off as if the ship herself were screaming in terror.
But as Greenbriar dragged himself to his feet, he saw that at least a couple of his officers were still at their stations. Hohauser was still bent over his helm console, trying desperately to outmaneuver the enemy, and Bolaris was still poking at his weapons controls.
“Fire at will!” the captain told Bolaris, his voice a smoke-parched croak.
The weapons officer shook his head, disappointment etched into his face. “I can’t, sir. They’ve disabled our weapons ports—phasers as well as torpedoes.”
“Shields are down too,” rasped Cangelosi. She was in the process of moving back behind her console, broken arm and all. “We won’t be able to take another barrage.”
Greenbriar’s jaw clenched. He just wished he knew what the aliens were after. He could reason with them then, maybe save some lives. But he was still in the dark.
“Captain,” said Cangelosi, looking up at him with smoke-stung eyes full of horror, “they’re beaming aboard!”
“Where?” asked Greenbriar.
“Decks five and six,” said the navigator.
Five and six? But there was nothing there except crew quarters. Obviously, the intruders’ sensors weren’t nearly as advanced as their tactical systems.
The captain understood Cangelosi’s reaction to the enemy’s presence aboard the Cochise. It was a natural enough response for someone who plied the void of space, and felt only as secure as the metal-alloy shell around