Intellivore - Diane Duane [14]
“Let’s do that, and travel in company for a little while until the details have been sorted out. My executive officer will see to it.”
“Until we meet again, then, Captain,” said Elekk. “In more pleasant circumstances, I hope.” The screen flickered off.
Picard went back out to the bridge and had just started to instruct Riker in what needed to be done when Worf interrupted. “Captain,” the Klingon said, “the Lalairu ship is hailing us again.”
“On screen.”
“Captain,” said Elekk as the screen flicked back into image again. “I do beg your pardon. I neglected to mention that about a hundred hours ago we had an encounter with a colony craft transiting this area; a ship called Boreal.”
Picard thought back. “Yes,” he said. “The name’s on our list of vessels in transit through this area.” It was a privately owned ship, one that contracted its services out to do colonial relocations and supply work. “Was it having any problems?”
“Ah,” said the Lalairu. “Well. It reported no malfunctions or difficulties. But they were rather … cavalier about their communications techniques.”
“In what way?”
“Well, they did appear to be using phasers for them. They shot at us before we could identify ourselves to them.”
“And you—”
“Did not fire back at them, Captain.” This time there was no mistaking the amused look. “We identified ourselves and passed on … but they were rather rude to us. They seemed to mistake us for a Federation ship, or one in the employ of the Federation.”
“That would be a serious error,” said Picard. If there was anything the Lalairu valued, it was their nonaligned status: their strict neutrality kept them safe in spaces where anyone else would come to grief … although it had occurred to Picard several times that their neutrality was much enhanced by their heavy armaments. Lalairu weapons gave third parties second thoughts.
“At any rate, Captain, they reported all well, and continued on their way, heading for One Twenty-seven Scorpii, I believe. But it might be wise to warn other ships in the area.”
“We’ll look into it. And good luck on the rest of your journey.”
“Any journey is good, Captain,” said the Lalairu, genuinely smiling now. “Whether it goes well or ill depends on the company. May yours go well also.” The screen winked out.
Picard looked up at Riker, who was returning to his seat. “Would you say that Mr. Data’s problematic course is working yet?” he said.
“Hard to tell, Captain,” said Riker. “I prefer a slightly larger universe of statistical data, myself.”
“There are some new data available now, Commander,” Data said. “We have received the transmission of the records of the Lalairu engagement with the raiders.”
“Put it on the screen in my ready room, Mr. Data,” said Picard. “Number One, let’s have a look.”
It was interesting material, and rather distressing. The transmission began with an image of the Lalairu ships sailing along, about their lawful business. In the background, far away, Kepler’s Star shone, still—even at this distance—the brightest thing to be seen in circumambient space. Then, suddenly, fire in the night, as all around the Lalairu convoy, the sixteen pirate ships—mostly long needlelike shapes, compared to the generally rounded, fat-bodied little Lalairu craft—came out of warp in two loosely arranged hemispheres and closed on the Lalairu in a pincers movement.
Picard’s mouth tightened to a straight line as he watched. It was a standard enough englobement, the movement designed to take an enemy swiftly by surprise and overload his weapons computers before he had a chance to respond.
This group of Lalairu were certainly experts. Picard barely had time to draw breath between the appearance of the englobing pirate vessels and the equally sudden appearance of the lines of light that stabbed out from the Lalairu ships. In that initial onslaught, targeting with astonishing precision—bearing in mind the suddenness of the attack—some five of the pirate vessels were destroyed, all making a gap toward one side of the globe formation. And a second after