Marooned - Christie Golden [16]
"Harry, can you still follow the trail of the original three ships?"
Kim hit several buttons, then shook his dark head. "Negative, Captain. The trail ends here."
"Then they're not fleeing-not yet," said Janeway, digging her nails into the arms of her chair as Voyager shuddered beneath the attacks.
"They're hiding," said Chakotay slowly. "They're using the bigger pieces of wreckage as protection while providing a distraction."
"Tuvok, could the combined forces of those eight ships defeat Voyager?" Janeway queried, her eyes still fastened to the screen.
"Unlikely. But they could cause severe damage. I suggest we tarry here no longer than is absolutely-"
This time the ship did more than rock. It bucked and heaved, listing violently before a scrambling Tom Paris, half out of his seat, brought it back to an even keel. Janeway herself tumbled out of her chair, striking her head against the arm. She heard her crew cry out as consoles sparked and flamed. For a wild instant the bridge went completely dark, then the emergency backup system kicked in.
Janeway's head throbbed violently and blood trickled into her eyes. She blinked, clearing her vision, and wiped the distracting red fluid away with one hand as she reclaimed ' her seat. "Report!" she cried, staring at the small ships that darted back and forth on the viewscreen..
-Shields at fifty-six percent," said Kim. "Casualty reports up to twenty-seven now. They're making up in persistence what they lack in technology."
Janeway's mind raced as she caught her breath. "Mr. Tuvok, concentrate fire on any dead ships large enough to conceal smaller ones. Glancing blows. I want to flush them out, not hurt them."
"Aye, Captain." The Vulcan's fingers tapped calmly on the controls. As they watched, red phaser energy sliced through space yet again. But this time, no ship with a living crew suffered. Tuvok had trained the weapon on a huge, hulking piece of gray metal. Part of it blew off, spiraling wildly into space, but most of the ship remained intact. At least, as intact as a dead ship could be.
"Again," ordered Janeway. Lord, but her head hurt.
Tuvok obeyed, concentrating on the other end of the ship. The smaller ships continued their attack, and Janeway listened with half an ear as Kim recited a litany of damage. She was right, she knew she was. She had to be.
She didn't need to tell Tuvok to continue on, directing the phaser fire at every piece of wreckage large enough to serve as a hiding place for the ship that had bolted with Kes. But as piece after piece was blasted, and as the stubborn little ships persisted in their attack, Janeway wondered if she shouldn't back off. She was still convinced that her tactics were the correct ones, but the question was, did they have the time? Could she continue to put her crew's lives at risk on a hunch?
You're out there, you bastards. I know you're there.
And we're going to flush you out like an Irish setter does a quail But if they were, they weren't showing themselves. Grimly, Janeway wondered if perhaps her ploy had worked too well, if, despite her caution, Tuvok's fire had destroyed the ship with Kes aboard as it hid in the ruins of larger vessels.
The pain in her head had subsided to a dull ache, and the blood had dried into a crust. She took a deep breath. "Mr. Tuvok-"
"There they are!" yelped Paris, unable to contain himself in his excitement. And sure enough, three small ships, of a design unlike any of those currently attacking Voyager, suddenly swooped out of the belly of a dead ship.
"Follow them!" cried Janeway.
Tom Paris needed no urging. His mouth set in a thin, grim line, he swung the ship hard to port and brought it around in hot pursuit. The three ships made no move to defend themselves, though the eight originally embroiled in the battle increased their attack.
The three ships were fast, Janeway had to give them that. It's like chasing swallows, she thought