The Devil's Heart - Carmen Carter [81]
“And you would have been vaporized. Like some melodramatic sea captain who refuses to abandon a sinking ship.”
After a long silence, Miyakawa said, “I lost track of time.”
The other woman snorted. “There wasn’t that much time to keep track of.”
Miyakawa shrugged, then realized that her companion could not see the gesture in the dark. She hadn’t made a conscious decision to stay on the starbase, but she hadn’t scrambled for the lifeboat until she found Camenae wandering through the deserted docking bay. “Wait a minute. Why were you still on board the station?”
Camenae’s silence lasted so long that it seemed she was not going to answer at all. There was a quaver in her voice when she finally spoke.
“I’ve been through this before … and I’m tired of being a survivor.”
So, they had rescued each other, reluctant heroes sacrificing their own death so that the other might live.
“I’ll see to it that you survive again this time, whether you like it or not,” said Miyakawa with a fierce conviction that welled up from inside of her.
“A starbase can be rebuilt. Our lives can be rebuilt.”
“That’s a job for the young.” Camenae uttered a weary sigh. “And I’m much older than I look.”
“Not too old to feel sorry for yourself.”
“Thank you, Commander,” said Camenae dryly.
“Your sympathy is appreciated.”
Miyakawa laughed. “My charming personality is well-known throughout Starfleet. Think how fortunate you are to be cooped up with me for—” A flashing light signaled the activation of the pod’s transceiver. “Incoming message.”
She released the sound into the cabin.
“Attention USS Portsmouth Priority distress call … Starbase 193 has been destroyed … Enterprise has urgent business elsewhere … request you proceed immediately to aid survivors.”
“I don’t get it.” Miyakawa shook her head in disbelief. “That was an uncoded broadcast. Everyone in the sector probably heard that message.”
“Look!” Camenae pointed to the viewscreen.
In the distance, they could see the Romulan warbird changing course. Its curved path flattened out into a straight line. As it gathered speed, the ship’s image rippled and shimmered, then faded out of existence. The cloaking device had been activated.
“Dammit!” cried Miyakawa. “I risked my life to protect the Enterprise, but they’ve fallen prey to the Romulans anyway!”
“Don’t underestimate Captain Picard.”
Camenae’s smile flashed in the shadowed interior of the pod. “I think he’s constructing a trap of his own.”
If this was so, Picard’s ploy was a dangerous one.
“Good luck, Jean-Luc,” whispered Miyakawa.
“Forward thrust …” ordered Commander Taris, “… now.”
Vedoc staggered back against a metal bulkhead, unbalanced by the Haakona’s jolting acceleration to high warp speed. For a moment, before the dampening field could counteract the pressure of inertial forces against his chest, he could hardly breathe.
Others among the bridge crew seemed to be fighting for breath as well, but none of them betrayed any surprise at the painful effect, so this was no ship malfunction. Vedoc was familiar enough with the warbird class to know that Taris must have reset the inertial dampening field below standard specifications; undoubtedly this was another small shaving of energy to funnel toward the weapons system.
The crush of g-forces finally eased. With a wheezing gasp of relief, Vedoc lurched back to his position by the side of the commander’s throne.
Taris met his return with a condescending smile and said, “Of course, it’s a trap.”
Vedoc assumed a feigned look of surprise just a second too late, and then feared she would begin to suspect his deceit.
To his relief, however, the sneer on the commander’s face showed she had mistaken his bad timing for stupidity.
“A trap, Commander?” he asked with exaggerated bewilderment. Evidently she was convinced that he was an idiot and would continue to interpret all his reactions accordingly.
“Your gullibility is touching, Vedoc.”
Taris seemed to enjoy displaying her contempt