Seven of Nine - Christie Golden [38]
She jerked her head in Harry's direction and at once the screen went blank.
"Tuvok, fire at will. Tom, evasive maneuvers. We know how to hurt them now, let's stay out of range as long as we-" Two more Ku vessels were blown apart by the random patterned phaser blasts. Voyager maneuvered with the grace and control that Janeway so loved, guided by the skilled input of a pilot to whom flying was almost as natural as breathing.
The powerful shots missed the-in. For a wild, joyful moment Janeway thought they could actually do it.
Hell, there were only, what, sixty-odd ships. Now that Seven had revealed the Ku's weakness, Voyager was blasting them from the skies.
All they had to do was keep firing and not get fired upon themselves.
The ship rocked violently. The conn spat fire and smoke and Tom Paris cried out and toppled from his seat. His face was blackened and he covered it with his arms, groaning. But there was no time for sympathy.
"Our shields are gone," said Tuvok.
Janeway swallowed, glanced over at Chakotay. His dark eyes bored into hers and he nodded, once. One more solid blast would do it.
"Keep firing," she told her security officer, proud and surprised at how steady her voice was. "We're going to take as many of them with us as-" Her voice caught in her throat despite her best intentions as she realized the cursed little black oval ships were powering up for a final attack. She leaped out of her chair and pounced on the conn, keying in a desperate, final twist and turn in an almost certainly futile effort to minimize the blast's effects on the helpless ship.
For what purpose? her mind screamed. Why delay the inevitable for a few more seconds? What will it get you, Kathryn?
"Captain!" Tuvok's voice registered surprise. "Forty vessels are approaching, heading six mark-" "I see them," breathed his captain, her eyes glued to the screen in wonderment.
They were no polished fleet, these ships. They were a motley crew, all shapes, sizes, designs, colors, and speeds, but they moved with a uniform purpose to position themselves between the damaged Federation vessel and her would-be predators. They fired as they came, doing no damage but providing a blessed distraction as they drew Ku fire.
Voyager danced between the ships, firing and rolling. Janeway didn't quite have Tom's finesse at the controls but she knew her ship, knew what it could do. In the spaces between the mysterious but welcome ships, she piloted her vessel, fired, and ducked back to safety. Janeway's jaw was set so hard it ached, her fingers flying over the controls.
Another Ku ship destroyed, and she felt a quick flush of pleased excitement. Janeway didn't like the sensation. It was deeply ingrained in her to fight only when provoked, to disable the enemy, not destroy them. But she didn't know enough about the peculiar Ku vessels to target only the engines and weapons systems. She barely knew enough to even fight back.
She had no reason to like the Ku, particularly if everything Tamaak and Annika/Seven had told her about them was true. But the deep thrill of animal pleasure that coursed through her veins as she blew them out of the sky disgusted her.
Another one down. And another. Voyager dove and darted, evading the single blast that would bring her down. Her unknown allies seemed not to know the secret of fighting the Ku, and kept blasting away ineffectively. But they were there, shielding Janeway and her crew, and she was grateful to the core of her being.
"Captain," said Chakotay, "It looks like they're falling back."
"We have destroyed seven of the enemy vessels," said Tuvok. "Commander Chakotay is correct. The Ku, or the Tuktak as Seven has dubbed them, are indeed retreating."
An instant later, Janeway's own eyes confirmed Tuvok's statement. The black ovals banded together, then, moving as one, they went into warp.
The Imperial ships lingered for a few moments while Janeway held her breath. Would they attack now, too?