Miracle Workers (SCE Books 5-8) - Keith R. A. DeCandido_. [et al.] [49]
Gold muttered several curses in Yiddish. “Yellow alert.”
“Transporter room to bridge.”
“Go ahead, Feliciano.”
“Sir, I’ve lost the lock on the away team.”
“ Da Vinci to Duffy,” Gold said immediately. When no response was forthcoming, he turned to McAllan at tactical, who was operating his console and shaking his head. “I’ve lost the away team’s signals—all of them, even Lieutenant Nog’s. Something’s jamming them.”
Gold muttered several more curses. “Engineering. Barnak, punch a hole through that damn interference, pronto.”
Jil Barnak, the Atrean chief engineer of the da Vinci, said, “On it, sir.”
“Androssi ship coming out of warp and on an intercept course with us,” Ina said.
McAllan added, “They’re running weapons hot.”
“Raise shields. Arm weapons, but don’t lock on yet. Let’s give them a chance to play nice.”
Gold could feel McAllan’s dubious look without bothering to turn around and see it. The tactical officer said, “Sir—do you really think they’re going to?”
“No,” Gold said with a grim smile. “But I like to live the life of a cockeyed optimist. Put ’em on screen.”
The viewscreen’s image changed from Empok Nor to that of a familiar-looking ship. The hull was brown—just like Androssi skin, and the jumpsuits that they seemed to favor. Gold’s first impression of the Androssi had been that they had no aesthetic sense whatsoever, and their vessel design bore that out: the ship, which had no name as far as anyone knew, was basically a big box. Abramowitz’s cultural profile on them, limited though it was, indicated that the Androssi had a preference for the practical that bordered on the utilitarian. That, their overriding interest in technology, and their rectangular ship construction had led some to make comparisons to the Borg, but the Androssi had a definite hierarchical structure and they were most definitely individuals.
“Hailing frequencies.”
McAllan manipulated his console. “Open, sir.” Gold sat up straight in his command chair. He had a tendency to slouch, but he always made sure to sit up whenever he was sending a visual communication. “This is Captain Gold of the Federation Starship U.S.S. da Vinci. Identify yourselves.”
“They’re responding, sir, but audio only.”
“Just like last time,” Gold said with a nod. The Androssi never communicated visually. Abramowitz’s theory was that they didn’t want anyone to see any aspect of their technology, even if it was just in the background. “On speaker.”
“This is Overseer Biron. You are once again interfering in a legitimate Androssi operation, Captain Gold. You will utilize your transporter to beam your away team off the station and warp out of the area immediately, or we will be forced to take hostile action.”
“So, it is you, Biron. Don’t insult my intelligence. You know damn well that I can’t ‘remove’ the away team because you’re jamming their combadges. In any case, this is unclaimed space. You have no jurisdiction over our actions, and no justification for taking any kind of action against us.”
“Perhaps not, Captain Gold, but you have no jurisdiction over ours, either.”
Smiling, Gold said, “Actually, we’ve been deputized by the planetary government on Maeglin. We have standing orders to place you under arrest and remand you to the Maeglin Law Enforcement Bureau.” That was a complete fabrication, of course, but Biron didn’t know that. “We therefore request that you lower shields and prepare to be boarded.”
“Now it is you who insult my intelligence, Captain. Do you really expect me to accede to that request?”
Gold gave a half-smile. “Not really, no. But I thought it was worth a shot. Now the question is—”
“They’re firing,” McAllan interrupted.
“So much for cockeyed optimism,” Gold muttered. “Red alert. Wong, evasive.”
“Yes, sir,” the conn officer said.
McAllan said, “It’s a torpedo. If it’s anything like the last time, our shields should hold.”
Ina shook her head. “It’s not a perfect match for that one, Mac,” she