Harbinger

“The central Jefferies tube,” he said, hefting his own ponderous toolbox. Realizing he would likely dislocate his shoulder before he made it more than a few steps out of the room, he put it back down and rooted around inside for the two items he knew he would need. “We’re shunting power mains one and three into the tactical grid.”

Ford shot him a worried glance. “One and three, sir?”

“ ’Sright,” he said, plucking a dynospa

Anderson piped up, “But that’ll shut off life-support.”

“Very good, Ensign,” Judge said. Digging to the bottom of the cluttered case, he found his plasma cutter.

“Sir, without life-support we’ll have less than ten hours of breathable air, and—” The deck lurched as a rough hit battered the ship. The trio landed hard on the floor.

Judge glared at the young enlisted woman. “Ten hours? Try ten minutes. Think short-term, Ford, or you won’t have a long term. Grab your tools and let’s go.”

Orders and reports and the chaos of discharged phasers raged around Oriana D’Amato, who was grateful that all she had to do was fly the ship. Captain Ga

Ga

D’Amato accelerated into a looping corkscrew maneuver that almost overwhelmed the inertial dampeners. No matter which way she went, one of the six Tholian cruisers appeared in her path, or another volley of Tholian ordnance cut her off. She had been mostly successful at evading the enemy’s attacks, but the hits they had scored had proved to be substantial. “I need covering fire,” she said to anyone who was listening.

The response was quick. “Target lock!” Berry said.

Milonakis answered, “Fire!”

Phaser beams slashed across a Tholian cruiser’s shields, and a pair of torpedoes knocked it off course, clearing a small gap in their encircling formation. D’Amato piloted the hobbled Bombay through the slim passage, only to note that the enemy ships were already regrouped and moving to intercept them again.

“Berry,” Ga

Tactics were not exactly D’Amato’s specialty, but she knew that the Bombay’s best move was to escape. Standing toe-to-toe with six Tholian ships was a losing proposition, and surrender wasn’t an option. Despite her limited experience with Tholians, even D’Amato knew that the reclusive aliens were said never to take prisoners. The fact that the enemy vessels were doing everything possible to block the Bombay’s retreat seemed to confirm the rumors.

Three Tholian ships streaked past the Bombay, zigzagging across its forward quarter. “They did it again,” Berry said, pounding his fists on his console full of hastily plotted warp coordinates—now blinking with warning signals. “We’re cut off.”

At the science station, ch’Sho

Milonakis grabbed the railing. “Brace for—”

It felt like the ship rammed into a brick wall. Darkness smothered the bridge. The thuds of tumbling bodies were barely audible beneath an explosive thundercrack, which tore a scream of terror from D’Amato as she was pi

The seconds it took the emergency lighting to engage were some of the longest D’Amato had ever lived through.

Dim yellowish orange illumination faded up slowly, obscured behind a heavy curtain of thick gray smoke. Ceiling struts hung in twisted bundles, and a load-bearing cross-beam had broken free and smashed through the port-side consoles and railing. Pi

D’Amato turned her head in the other direction to see that she had escaped a similar fate by less than a meter; Ensign Berry, however, had not been so fortunate. He was skewered to his seat, impaled through his chest by a fallen ceiling strut. D’Amato could only hope his death had been instantaneous.

From behind her came the clatter of wreckage being kicked aside. She turned to see Captain Ga

“We’ve lost the starboard warp nacelle, Captain,” D’Amato said. Leaning over to check Berry’s console, she added, “Shields are gone. Phasers down to quarter power.”

Ga

“No, sir,” Nave said. “The Tholians are jamming us.”

“Prep the log buoy, ten-hour delay.”

“Aye, Captain.”

Lieutenant ch’Sho

D’Amato swelled with irrational hope. “They’re retreating?”

“Not quite,” ch’Sho

“Onscreen,” Ga

The science officer reached under Berry’s corpse and switched the main viewer image. The six vessels were now assembled in a tight grouping, firing in unison to deadly effect on the planet surface. Watching the awesome display of firepower was almost hypnotic. As horrified as D’Amato was, she was unable to make herself look away. Then a screech of metal drew her attention to ch’Sho

Ga

“Barely. Impulse only, and that’s spotty.”

“Is the warp reactor still online?”

“One-quarter power only, sir.”

The captain frowned. She leaned forward and opened an intraship cha

Half out of breath, the chief engineer’s voice gasped over the intercom, “Judge here, Captain.”

“Kevin, I need power, now. Impulse, warp core, batteries—all of it.”

“The shield emitters are toast, Captain. I can have partial forward shields in six minutes if we—”

“Forget shields. All power to tactical and impulse.”

“I’m sorry? Did you say—”

“There’s no time, Kevin. Phasers and propulsion. Now.”

D’Amato was certain she heard Judge sigh in resignation.

“Yes, sir,” he said. “Give me sixty seconds. Judge out.”

The cha

Looking up at the captain, ch’Sho

“Move to intercept. Yes, I know.” Ga

Doubt nagged at D’Amato as she laid in the course. “Captain, if we start taking return fire, should I—”

“Hold your course.”

The captain didn’t need to say any more than that. D’Amato understood, and the shell-shocked glances that passed between herself, ch’Sho