Ship of the Line - Diane Carey [68]
“I understand.”
“But you don’t agree?”
“I’m not sure yet. I don’t think you are either.”
“That’s for me to know,” Kirk said, “and them to find out.”
He sighted-down the screen, and in some way seemed able to see that invisible enemy out there. Picard noticed Kirk trying to project his whole mind out there into that ship, that bridge, to hear what was being said and thought. The hunger to be out there was interesting—Kirk was quite a provocateur. He was anxious to get on with activities he would rather not have happen.
Well, Picard recognized that kind of paradox, but for himself he’d never been quite as forward-leaning about it as Kirk appeared right now.
“Phaser overload! Control-circuit burnout.”
Helmsman Sulu’s voice cut through the brief pause between Picard and Kirk, but Kirk already had his hands on the helm controls between Sulu and the navigator and Spock was also working the controls.
Picard scanned his memory about ships’ systems in these days. The phaser guidance and aiming systems were here on the bridge, but actual power-up and firing controls were somewhere below, though he couldn’t recall just where. A team of phaser specialists were required to operate the complex engineering that controled the gathering and release of such fantastic destructive power. These were the days shortly before such things could be automated and controted directly from the bridge. Reaction time, firing time, therefore, was slower and required a series of relayed orders. Those seconds were critical.
Now they’d had an overload. Phasers were down. Did they have photon torpedoes at this time? Picard wasn’t sure—no. no, they didn’t. Those came a little later than the beginning of James Kirk’s captaincy. Yes, that was right.
Spock rolled to the deck and opened a smoking access trunk, waving the smoke, batting out the tiny flame in there. He surveyed the damage. “It’ll take time to correct, sir,” he called over the crackle.
“Captain, are they surrendering?” Sulu blurted suddenly.
Everyone turned to the forward screen. The mystery ship was appearing out of the night, heading directly at them in exactly the same manner as it has come toward Outpost 4 during those last horrid moments.
Abruptly tense, Kirk angled back and leaned one thigh on his command chair and pressed the shipwide comm with his wrist. “Full astern!” he ordered. “Emergency warp speed!”
The ship hummed with response, trying to go to warp speed faster than was comfortable. A flower of energy bloomed from the enemy ship; then the ship disappeared and there was only the widening floret of destructive energy. Sick-pink and rolling, the discharge raced toward them, just as the same sight had come at Outpost 4, seconds before unthinkable devastation wiped the outpost from the face of space.
“Do we have emergency warp?” Kirk demanded.
“Full power, sir,” Sulu confirmed. “It’s still overtaking us.”
They worked for more speed, but warp engines could only do so much, so suddenly.
“If we can get one phaser working, sir,” Sulu wished. “One shot would detonate it.”
Kirk stood between them. “Navigation?”
“Estimate it’ll overtake us in two minutes, sir,” the navigator responded.
“Phasers, Mr. Spock.”
From the deck, Spock’s sharp answer left no doubts. “Impossible, Captain.”
“How did he know you were here?” Picard asked.
“See that comet?” Kirk said, pointing at a hazy streak in the night. “When he went through its tail, we thought we’d pick up a residual trail and be able to pinpoint his location. But he guessed my move and countered it. I had to give up my hiding place and lay down a blind firing pattern and hope to knock him down.”
“There’s your act of war,” Picard said, holding out a hand. “You took the first shot. Now he can claim he’s defending himself.”
“I don’t care what he claims. The Romulans have never offered so much as a finger of friendship. No hope for the future. No remorse for the past. Until they offer that, or at least start making noises