The Good That Men Do - Andy Mangels [133]
Still, he didn’t much like where that realization would inevitably lead him. Regardless, he came to a decision, quickly if not easily.
“Travis, belay my last order. Dead stop.” Enterprise shuddered slightly as she responded to her helmsman’s deft touch on the helm console.
Mayweather regarded him with a slightly puzzled expression, but complied nevertheless, dropping Enterprise out of warp. “Dead stop, Captain.”
“On my order, bring us back to just within weapons range of the Romulan transport vessel,” Archer said, turning toward the tactical station overlooking the command well on the bridge’s starboard side. “Malcolm, get a pair of photonic torpedoes ready. Maximum yield.”
“Aye, sir.” Malcolm said, nodding affirmatively as he entered a string of commands into his console. A few moments later, he nodded at Archer to signal that the weapons tubes were ready to fire at his discretion.
“Travis, engage new course.”
“Aye, sir.”
Within moments, the Romulan transport vessel was displayed front and center on the bridge’s main viewer.
“The warships are locking their weapons again,” said Malcolm. “We’ll probably lose our warp drive if they score a direct hit this time.”
“A chance we’ll have to take, Malcolm,” Archer said, thinking of Theras, and the additional violence the Romulans would surely force upon him.
Then Archer heard Jhamel speaking very gently inside his head. “You are doing the right thing, Captain. Theras has just warned the Romulans to abandon their vessel, and they are leaving it now. I thank you for what you are about to do, Jonathan Archer. And Theras thanks you as well.”
The disembodied voice was steeped in the deepest sadness that Archer had ever known. I hope you’ll forgive me if I don’t say, “You’re welcome” to either of you, Archer replied wordlessly.
“Good-bye, Theras,” Jhamel thought, prompting Archer to wonder if everyone else on the bridge had also heard her mournful farewell. He looked toward her and saw that her tears now flowed freely, if silently.
“I salute you,” Shran said, facing the viewer, his face frozen into a somber rigidity that seemed almost Vulcan.
A second voice spoke directly in Archer’s head. It took a moment for Archer to realize that it belonged to Theras. “The escape pods are launching, Captain. Please do what you must do.” Unlike Jhamel, Theras’s mind seemed to carry no excess of grief or regret. Instead, Archer thought the doomed Aenar’s telepathic essence radiated a sense of… vindication.
His throat dry, his eyes burning, Archer said, “Fire torpedoes, Malcolm. Then get us out of here, Travis. Maximum warp.”
A beat later the transport ship erupted in two spectacular conflagrations, one per torpedo. The molecular fires slowly began to spread, pulling the hull apart in several places. Archer saw the first of the escape pods launch moments later, just before the tableau of destruction vanished from the viewscreen as Enterprise leaped to warp.
Jhamel slumped in her seat, weeping violently.
Archer could only hope that she wouldn’t feel the need to seek atonement the way Theras had.
Forty
Friday, February 21, 2155
Romulan Space
TRIP WATCHED AS THE BLIP on the sensor display continued its slow, steady progress toward his stolen ship, which remained effectively dead in space. “Becalmed” was how his father- an avid Gulf Coast sailboater- would have described their current condition.
There’s got to be a way to get some wind behind our sails again, Trip thought, wishing he could feel as “becalmed” as their ship had become.
He turned his pilot’s seat toward Ehrehin, who still occupied the copilot’s position. The old man regarded him darkly through the faceplates of their twin environmental suits.
“You mind giving me a hand getting this beast flying again?” Trip said, feeling he had nothing to lose by asking.
The elderly scientist favored him with a drop-jawed look of pure incredulity. “First you kidnap me, then try to keep me away from my would-be rescuers, and now you ask for my help? I certainly have to credit