The Romulan War_ Beneath the Raptor's Wing (Book 1) - Michael A. Martin [152]
But now was not the time for either regrets or recriminations.
“Are the hostiles within range of our arrenhe’hwiua telecapture system?” T’Voras asked. Since none of the subwarp raptors could generate sufficient power to operate such an energy-intensive weapon, the telecapture unit had to be the sole province of the Dhivael on this mission.
“No, Commander,” Morek said. “We would have to make a closer approach.”
And just how close an approach, T’Voras knew, would depend greatly upon what measures the Andorsu may have taken to “harden” their systems against the arrenhe’hwiua device.
“A stealthy approach would seem to be out of the question,” T’Voras said as he came to a decision. “Helm, put us on a direct heading for Andoria. Maximum warp.”
“Yes, Commander,” Decurion Rarek said from the flight control board, into which she was began to enter a swift series of commands.
“Since they discovered our attack raptors so quickly, Commander, we should assume that they have detected the Dhivael as well,” Centurion T’Vak said, standing ramrod straight beside the T’Voras’s chair. “Withdrawal would be our most prudent course of action.”
T’Voras glared hard at the centurion. Prudence, he thought with disdain. The Romulan Star Empire was not built by men who valued prudence over victory.
He noticed then that Rarek seemed frozen over her flight controls as she regarded the Dhivael’s two most senior officers uncertainly. Ignoring T’Vak, T’Voras addressed Rarek directly.
“You will carry out my order, Decurion.”
Rarek nodded as her hand moved toward the “execute” switch. “Yes, Commander.”
“Commander T’Voras!” T’Vak cried. A flashing green alarm on the nvaimn-side scanners had evidently just attracted his attention.
“What is it now, Centurion?” T’Voras said, his patience rapidly thinning.
“Two more large ships have just dropped out of warp, Commander. They’re both already within weapons range of the Dhivael, and they seem to be trying to bracket us between them.”
Interesting. “More Andorsu?”
“No, sir. They’re Earth ships. Starfleet Daedalus-and NX-class.”
T’Voras grinned. For reasons that remained obscure, the Romulan Star Empire had succeeded in acquiring precious few Starfleet ships so far. Admiral Valdore would be grateful indeed if the Dhivael managed to increase that small number by even one—particularly if that one belonged to the NX-class, Starfleet’s most advanced ship of the line.
“Should I hold our position here, Commander?” Rarek asked, again looking uncertain. Her hand still hovered above the “execute” switch.
“Take us to Andoria, best speed,” he said, his grin broadening. “And get the arrenhe’hwiua ready to deploy against multiple targets.”
He was counting on his prey to chase him.
I.G.S. Weytahn
“The Romulan carrier ship is headed into the system,” Lieutenant ch’Narv reported from the tactical station. “It is headed toward Andoria at high warp.”
“Pursue!” Shran barked. “Redeploy the Yravas-class fighters to engage the incoming enemy, and scramble as many more from Andoria as you can get.” It had grieved him to learn that six small fighters were the only elements of his flotilla that had survived the initial engagement. But life had taught him long ago to adapt to changing circumstances, using whatever tools came to hand. If ice borers killed your alicorne, you used their heat to cook up a batch of alicorne steaks.
“The Romulans are jamming our ground communications,” said Lieutenant sh’Rreev from the comm station.
Shran muttered a curse as he tried to rein in his rapidly mounting dread. Surely one lone Romulan vessel, even one as apparently well-armored as this one, couldn’t stand for long against a concerted attack by six agile fighter craft, not to mention the combined firepower of the Weytahn and two of Starfleet’s ships of the line. Especially when the remnants of its complement of sublight auxiliary craft were