The Garden - Melissa Scott [97]
torpedo close at hand might well breach the shield. Classic tactics, she thought, but can I spare the torpedo?
"Rear shields down to sixty percent," Kim announced, "and falling rapidly. Captain, they're not going to stand much more."
Janeway smiled in spite of herself. Whether or not I can afford the torpedo, she thought, / certainly can't afford to put it off any longer. "Mr. Pao, prepare a photon torpedo."
"Aye, Captain," Pao answered, automatically, and Janeway saw Chakotay glance at her, frowning.
"Target the flagship," Janeway went on. "Keep the phasers on them. I want their shields stressed when the torpedo strikes."
She saw Chakotay's frown vanish, to be replaced by a smile of comprehension, and Pao answered again, "Aye, Captain. Torpedo ready."
"Fire," Janeway said, and the ship shuddered slightly with the release.
"Rear shields still dropping, Captain," Kim said. "They're not going to last much longer."
"Hold our position," Janeway answered. They had to remain here, drawing the Andirrim ships' attention as well as their fire, just a little longer, just long enough to keep them from gaining a position where they could do real damage to the shuttles.
"Torpedo running," Pao said. "Twelve seconds to impact."
Voyager staggered again, and Janeway heard a duty technician swear as he was flung against his console.
"Rear shields are down to twenty percent," Kim said. "The next hit'll breach them for sure."
"Captain," Chakotay began, and Janeway silenced him with a look.
"Just a little longer," she said, and didn't know if
she was talking to him or to the ship. And then fire bloomed in the viewscreen, a silent and momentary sun that briefly hid the Andirrim flagship.
"Direct hit!" Pao cried. "Shields are down-no, they've got them up again, but they're definitely at lower strength. And the Kirse shuttles have achieved orbit, they're coming after them."
In the tactical display, Janeway could see the points of light clustering, several of the shuttles moving into the places of the missing stations, the rest coming on toward the flagship, falling into a classic wedge formation.
"Captain," Kim said. "Transmission from the shuttle."
"Put it through," Janeway answered, and the speaker crackled to life, the voice distorted by the energy residue of the fighting.
"Paris to Voyager. Come in, Voyager."
"Voyager here," Janeway said, and allowed herself another smile. Trust Paris to find a way to put himself into the thick of things, for all his pretense of world-weariness.
"Nice shooting, Captain, but I suggest Voyager might be more effective elsewhere. Not to mention safer."
Cheeky bastard, Janeway thought. She said, "The thought had crossed my mind, Mr. Paris, but do you think you're up to replacing us?"
"There're a lot more of us," Paris answered, and this time Janeway laughed.
"Thank you, Mr. Paris. Mr. Chakotay, evasive action. Put some distance between us and the Andirrim, then let's see what more we can do."
"Aye, Captain," Chakotay answered, and the image in the viewscreen swung sharply as the ship heeled out of the plane of its orbit. Janeway allowed herself a sigh
of relief that she knew was echoed throughout the ship. As long as they had room to maneuver, Voyager was in no danger; she just wished she could say as much for Paris and the rest of the Kirse shuttles.
Paris was still grinning as he released his communicator, and glanced again at the display flickering against the underside of his armored dome. The other shuttles-at least two dozen of them, now, closing in from all across the planet-showed as pink wedges, bright against the starscape and the face of the planet. The Andirrim ships were larger, electric blue rectangles-but then, he thought, I hardly need the display to see them. He could see them well enough with his own eyes, the rusty-looking rhomboids outlined by the flare of phaser fire, their own and Voyager's, and now the first of the shuttles was moving to engage as well.