Pantheon - Michael Jan Friedman [167]
And the enemy hadn’t cut his speed one iota.
“Fire!” the captain roared.
A swarm of photon torpedoes took flight, illuminating the void between the two combatants. At the same time, the Nuyyad vessel unleashed its most devastating attack yet.
It was a glorious, breathtaking spectacle, emerald green mingling with gold, brilliance weaving its way through brilliance. Unfortunately, it lasted only a fraction of a second.
Then the Stargazer reeled under the hull-buckling onslaught, sending Picard crashing into a bulkhead. Pain shot through his ribs and the side of his head and blackness began to overwhelm him.
No, he told himself, fighting to regain his senses. I cannot give in. I need to know what has happened. The taste of blood strong in his mouth, he pulled himself up along a console and took stock of the bridge.
The air was full of smoke and sparks and fire. Unmanned consoles beeped frantically and open conduits hissed deadly plasma. The second officer blinked, trying to see through the haze with badly stinging eyes, and spied someone sprawled on the deck near the captain’s chair.
It was Ruhalter—and he wasn’t moving.
Darting to the captain’s side, Picard saw why. Half the man’s face had been burned away in the explosion of a still-sputtering plasma conduit.
The second officer shook his head. No, he thought, denying it as hard as he could. It cannot be. It is not possible.
But it was.
Daithan Ruhalter was dead.
Abruptly, he realized that someone was standing next to him. Looking up, he saw that it was Paxton.
“My god,” said the communications officer, gaping at the captain’s corpse in disbelief.
Picard saw the look on Paxton’s face and imagined the same look on his own—and a feeling of shame welled up inside him. He had to accept the situation, he told himself. He had to move on.
After all, the ship was in deadly danger. Their shields were down and they had an enemy taking shots at them with impunity.
As Picard thought that, he felt another jolt run through the ship—but it wasn’t nearly as bad as the last one. Obviously, Idun Asmund was still at the helm, doing her job.
They needed a leader, however. And with Ruhalter dead, that left Leach—whether the man was up to the task or not. Starfleet protocol wouldn’t tolerate anything less.
“Commander Leach!” Picard hollered into the miasma of fireshot smoke.
There was no answer.
Leaving Ruhalter’s side, the second officer made his way forward. He had last seen Leach at the engineering console. With luck, the man would still be there.
But when Picard reached the spot, he couldn’t find any sign of the first officer. He looked around, hoping to catch a glimpse of him—and instead saw Gerda Asmund hunched over near her navigation console.
His first thought was that the woman had been hurt. Then, as he got closer, he saw a body stretched out on the deck beyond her. Gerda turned and looked up at the second officer.
“It’s Leach,” she told him, her concern evident in the knot of flesh at the bridge of her nose.
Picard moved around her and saw the first officer. His eyes were closed, his features slack, and there was blood seeping from a gash in his smoke-blackened temple.
“Dead?” the second officer said numbly.
Gerda shook her head. “No. He still has a pulse.”
“Get him to sickbay,” Picard told her. “And send some hands up here to see to the captain.”
“Aye, sir,” said the navigator.
Picking Leach up with athletic ease, she headed for the turbolift. The second officer watched her go for a moment, open plasma conduits and flaming consoles illuminating her passage.
As the lift doors opened, Picard felt another impact. But like the last one, this one had been tolerable.
He looked at the officers still left to him. Idun, who was battling her controls to keep them in one piece. Paxton, who had returned to his post at communications. And Werber, who looked eager to fire again if only someone would give him the order.
With Ruhalter and Leach victims of the Nuyyad, Picard would have to be the one to do that. In fact, he would have to give all the orders.
“Mr. Paxton,