Pantheon - Michael Jan Friedman [165]
“Four minutes,” Gerda announced.
The second officer moved to the navigator’s console, planted the heel of his hand on its edge and leaned in to get a better look. He could see a green blip crawling across the black background of Gerda’s monitor.
The blip seemed so abstract, so theoretical. But the ship it represented was making warp eight, if their sensors were correct, with no sign whatsoever of slowing down.
“Activate what we have,” Ruhalter said, referring to the shields. “And keep working. Let’s see if we can get some more capacity on-line.”
“As you wish,” Jomar responded dispassionately, and made his way back to the turbolift.
The captain eased himself back in his seat, his expression as grave as Picard had ever seen it. They were at a disadvantage, the second officer told himself, and the captain knew it.
On the other hand, the Stargazer was a fast, well-equipped ship, and her crew had been battle-tested on other Starfleet vessels. They could yet prevail, Picard told himself.
“Three minutes,” said Gerda.
Ruhalter’s eyes narrowed. “Battle stations. Raise shields where we have them. Power phasers and arm photon torpedoes.”
“Done, sir,” said Lieutenant Werber, working at his weapons console aft of the center seat.
The second officer looked around the bridge. In addition to the captain, Leach, and himself, there were four officers present—the Asmunds, Werber, and Paxton. Every one of them was going about his business coolly and methodically, as if this sort of thing happened all the time.
For a moment, he almost thought he saw Idun Asmund smiling. Then the moment passed and he chalked it up to his imagination.
“Two minutes,” Gerda told them.
The captain glanced at his communications officer. “Hail them, Mr. Paxton. Let’s see what they do.”
“Aye, sir,” said Paxton.
Everyone waited for the results of his efforts. Finally, the communications officer looked up from his console.
“Nothing,” he told Ruhalter.
The captain nodded. “Can’t say I’m surprised.”
“One minute,” said Gerda, “and closing. Fifty seconds. Forty…”
Picard latched onto the back of the navigator’s chair with his free hand. It made him feel a trifle more secure.
“Thirty seconds,” Gerda announced. “Twenty. Ten…”
“Weapons range,” said Lieutenant Werber, sounding too eager by half for Picard’s taste.
“They’re firing!” Gerda announced.
A barrage of green witch-lights streamed from the Nuyyad’s weapons ports and exploded to spectacular effect on the viewscreen. The Federation ship bucked under the impact of the vidrion assault, but not so badly that anyone was hurt.
“Shields down twenty-two percent!” Werber called out.
Not good, Picard reflected. But if not for the Kelvan’s modifications, they might have been destroyed altogether.
Ruhalter leaned forward in his seat, a look of determination on his face. “Target and fire!”
A moment later, the Stargazer released a series of yellow-white photon torpedoes—packets of matter and antimatter bound together by magnetic forces. They found their target in quick succession, returning the enemy’s attack blow for ponderous blow.
But the Federation vessel couldn’t continue to trade punches with her adversary—not when the Nuyyad possessed a weapon as devastating as a vidrion cannon. She had to make her move—and quickly.
“Evasive maneuvers!” the captain barked. “Pattern Delta!”
Idun Asmund pulled the Stargazer into a tight upward turn, taking her out of the enemy’s sights for a moment. The Nuyyad obviously hadn’t expected such an action, because they sent an emerald-green vidrion volley slicing through empty space.
“Target and fire!” Ruhalter bellowed.
Again, Werber released a flight of photon torpedoes. Again, they found their mark, wreaking havoc with the enemy’s shields.
Picard’s heart leaped. They were winning. If they could keep it going, the battle would be over in short order.
Unfortunately, the Nuyyad seemed to have another outcome in mind. They pumped out yet another round of vidrion particles, hammering the Stargazer even harder than before.
An aft console