Ship of the Line - Diane Carey [116]
Disruptor fire broke across the bridge, but both Will Riker and Captain Bateson dodged it—bless those support pylons!
Riker saw the Klingon that Kozara had yelled at and noticed that this was a first officer. At least, he was wearing those markings on his body armor.
All these Klingons were middle-aged to senior types, except one—actually the biggest one. Kozara’s crew … and his son?
Riker raised his weapon to get in another shot, and was stunned by a hard strike to the side of his head. The pain left him dazed, and when he shook himself back, the hand phaser was gone. His arms were shackled.
Too many Klingons—too experienced to be taken this way. It had been a poor chance, trying to take the bridge before more torpedoes could be unloaded on some innocent target, but they’d taken the bet. They’d lost.
Pinioned on the upper deck by two gray-haired Klingons with good grips, Riker tried to get his wits back. His eyes gradually focused, and he saw Kozara standing over Bateson on the upper deck.
“Pick him up,” Kozara ordered.
Two more of his men came forward and hoisted Bateson to his feet.
Kozara got almost nose to nose with his long-remembered enemy.
“What did you think, Bateson? I would take a ship only to let you steal it back? I have been ninety years recovering from you. You are a strange gift for the galaxy to give an old Klingon.”
“You may hold the bridge, Kozara,” Riker said, “but the rest of the ship is ours.”
“All I need is the bridge. Our traveling is nearly over. Now all we must have is that panel.” Kozara pointed, and sure enough got it right. Weapons and tactical. “I need no precision to cut apart a planet. This ship’s reputation will be like flies upon dung in the street. There will never be another Enterprise when I finish with—”
Kozara’s first officer, Gaylon, came to life suddenly from the tactical panel. “Commander, contacts! Three … four vessels!”
“Size and configuration.”
“Fighter tonnage,” Gaylon reported, squinting into the bright readouts, “three vessels bear standard Cardassian configuration, emissions, and signals. Fourth ship … is unfamiliar. Federation emission … spacelane signals … smaller than the others, but reads warp powered. Possibly armed.”
“Of course it has arms,” Kozara drawled. “Why else would they come out and challenge us?”
“Perhaps they’ve heard of you,” Bateson needled. “And your failure of a son. Hello, Zaidan. You’re a big boy now, aren’t you? Too bad you don’t understand what a bold warrior your father is. Even I have to give him credit. This is a gutsy way to commit suicide.”
Riker smiled. Not bad.
“What is it, Kozara?” Bateson asked. “Because you were embarrassed once, you’ll now slaughter millions? There’s honor. And they say you don’t have any. I’ll have to tell them they’re wrong.”
“You will tell no one anything, dog. I will keep you alive long enough to watch the ruination of your great flying legend.”
Bateson raised his chin. “Up thine.”
Kozara blinked. “What?”
Before Riker could think of a quick answer for himself, the son of Kozara swung his long arm and clipped Bateson hard across the jawline. Bateson’s head snapped back, but he stayed on his feet somehow.
“Kozara … do you let this boy decide the course of your actions?” he asked.
Riker held his breath… . He wanted to say something, felt obliged to, but some instinct stopped him. This was Bateson’s show.
“Kozara,” Bateson began, much quieter, “let’s speak across the years to each other. You’re involving everyone today—my crew, your crew, the Cardassians, the Federation, your empire—but this isn’t about all these other people. It was always about you and me.”
“Do you think,” Kozara challenged, “I am fool enough to fight you hand to hand when I already hold the advantage?”
“No, no,” Bateson said. “No … I don’t want to fight you. You’d turn me into oatmeal. I’m trying to tell you, man—you came here and took my ship from me. Kozara … you already won!”
For a place crowded with people, the bridge lapsed into a stunning silence. Riker flexed his fingers and swore