Unification - Jeri Taylor [31]
Riker could feel his heart rate rising; the hammer of his pulse in his temple sounded like timpani. It was a heady, sensual feeling and he reveled in it. It brought to bear sensations with which he was not consciously in touch—the thrill of hunt, of combat, and conquest, akin to lust. Was it racial memory? There was certainly nothing in his experience that would account for the feelings coursing through him now as they waited silently in the black cold of space for a confrontation with the unknown.
But he no longer felt restless.
He stared at the viewing screen, which showed only an inky space punctuated by stars. His eyes burned into the image, seeking anything abnormal, when—
“Commander, sensors detect a ship approaching at warp speed.” Worf’s announcement was a crisp growl.
The pulse in Riker’s temple drummed harder.
“Identification?”
“Negative. No transponder signal. No subspace marker.”
“Sounds like they don’t want to be identified.” This a staccato punctuation from Geordi.
“The ship is coming out of warp now,” continued Worf.
Riker stared at the viewscreen, scrutinizing it with fierce concentration, looking for the covert ship. He could see a faint blip, almost indistinguishable.
“Magnify,” he breathed, and the blip jumped into relief.
It was dark, huge, and ominous. It was bristling with armament but carried absolutely no marking of any kind. Riker stared at it, breathless, awed by its proud malevolence.
“Sensors indicate a combat vessel… origin undetermined… heavily armed.” Geordi’s composed voice seemed at odds with the fearsome image he described. “Mass and density suggest it’s fully loaded with cargo. From the look of these internal scans, I’d guess a good part of that cargo is weap-onry.”
Riker watched as the dark ship swung away from them and slowed. “The ship is moving into section twelve-beta-three,” announced Worf.
“It’s taking the position assigned to the Tripoli,” said the Zakdorn. “The coordinates are identical.”
“Commander,” interrupted Geordi, “readings indicate the surface-to-ship transport has begun.”
This produced an instant and irate reaction from Dokachin. “He’s taking my deuterium tanks!”
“Bring the engines back on line, Mr. La Forge,” said Riker, “and restore all systems to normal.”
But the sinister ship wasn’t waiting around now that it had the goods. “He’s powering up engines, sir,” barked Worf.
“Open a channel,” retorted Riker, and rose to approach the screen. “Open, sir.”
“This is Commander William Riker of the U.S.S. Enterprise. Identify yourself.”
Several seconds passed, in the silence of which Riker could feel his heart pelting his rib cage. “I repeat: you have entered a Federation depot. Identify yourself.”
“Sir, the ship is locking phaser banks.” “Shields up. Red alert.”
The whine of red alert and the red flashing strobes signaled the onset of combat readiness. Riker could feel the tension on the bridge rise another notch. “That ship easily matches our armament, Commander,” Geordi noted.
That was a theory Riker hoped he didn’t have to prove. On the screen, they all watched as the giant ship slowly hove to and swung to face them. Riker stepped a bit closer to the screen.
“If you do not respond to our hails, we will take that as evidence of hostile action.”
“There is an energy buildup in their phaser banks— sir, they are activating weapons!” roared Worf, and before Riker could respond, a mighty WHUMP! struck the Enterprise, jolting them and causing lights to flicker. Worf’s voice cut through the commotion. “Forward shields down to seventy-two percent—”
“Boost power to the shields,” snapped Riker. “Mr. Worf, target their weapon systems only and prepare to fire—” But the other ship had already loosed another barrage and the Enterprise took an even heavier wallop. Several of the bridge consoles sparked furious-ly, and emergency lighting sprang