Summon the Thunder

According to the chart, the Palgrenax system was well away from the travel and patrol routes that had already been established by Starfleet vessels traversing the Taurus Reach, at least if Sarith was to believe the intelligence reports provided to her prior to the Talon’s departure from Romulan space. It was, however, clearly within the area that seemed to have been dominated by Klingon ships since their incursion into the region some weeks ago. It was possible that—in addition to whatever natural assets it might offer to the resource-deprived Klingon Empire—the system’s lone inhabited planet might also be providing a base of operations for Klingon vessels working in this sector.

Worth investigating,Sarith decided.

“Commander,” said N’tovek from where he stood before his station at the central hub, “we approach the enemy vessels.”

Turning from the computer terminal, Sarith moved across the bridge until she could see into the viewfinder at the centurion’s station. As she leaned closer to better see the sensor displays, she made a conscious effort not to look at N’tovek. To his credit, he stepped aside to allow his commander unfettered access to the station, as always conducting himself like the acceptable, if not outstanding, officer he was and offering no clue to anyone who might be watching that he was anything more than a subordinate sworn to live and die by her command.

Why, then, do I get the feeling that neither he nor I are fooling anyone with this pretense?

Forcing away the errant thought, Sarith focused her attention on the viewfinder. Inside the miniaturized display, which provided N’tovek with images translated from the abundance of information being received by the suite of sensor arrays positioned all around the exterior of the Talon’s hull, she could see the sensors’ depiction of the skirmish taking place far ahead of them. Reduced to cold, lifeless bits of computer-generated icons and commentary text, it was easy to forget that the digital caricatures represented lives thrown into the chaos; violence surely gripped the participants of the conflict she observed.

Or, in the case of the Klingons, the exhilaration of heading once more into battle.

One line of sensor data caught her eye, and she noted the distance separating the Talonfrom the pitched battle. “Maintain this position,” she ordered as she stepped away from the viewfinder. “Transfer the sensor feed to the main display.”

She felt the change in pitch as the Talon’s engines cycled down, sensed the slight pull as the inertial dampening systems lagged ever-so-slightly behind the ship’s abrupt deceleration. For a moment she wondered if their arrival and the sudden bleeding off of power, despite the still active cloaking device, might attract the attention of the Tholians or the Klingons. The earlier close call with the lone Tholian vessel was still fresh in her memory, and she was not yet ready to dismiss that occurrence as a stroke of random good fortune on the part of the Tholians’ sensors.

Moving to stand before the large display screen built into the bridge’s forward-facing bulkhead, Sarith folded her arms across her chest as the image on the monitor coalesced into a view of black, barren space. Otherwise serene darkness was peppered by the dim illumination of distant stars as well as the frenetic movements of two Tholian ships darting above, below, and around a single Klingon battle cruiser.

Though the small, arrowhead-shaped Tholian ships were of a design Sarith had never seen firsthand, the Klingon warship was of the same basic configuration as had been employed by the empire for more than a century, its distinctive orblike primary hull at the forefront of a long, narrow boom extending from the vessel’s angular main drive section. Warp nacelles mounted to the underside of the hull gave the cruiser an illusion of menace, power, and speed even now as it struggled against a more maneuverable and decidedly tenacious enemy.

While other militaries—including her own—often attempted to create something new and improved in the hopes of enhancing the abilities and efficiency of their ships and technology, Sarith knew from experience that the Klingons approached such matters from a much different mind-set. Though upgraded and enhanced over time, the well-worn design had in its basic form served the empire with distinction for longer than she had been alive. She suspected it would continue on in some fashion well after she had left this plane of existence.

On the viewscreen, arcs of energy flared into existence as particle-beam weapons impacted on the Klingon ship’s deflector shields, its movements to evade and engage its harassing enemy seeming sluggish and ineffective against the pair of smaller and faster vessels.

“The Klingon cruiser’s shields are almost depleted, Commander,” reported Centurion Darjil, standing just to Sarith’s left and not looking up from his own control console. “One Tholian ship has lost all shields and has sustained damage to its main engines.”

Other than the centurion’s report and the usual telltale harmony of background noises that filtered through the room, the bridge was silent as the battle unfolded before her. Studying the battling vessels with a practiced eye, Sarith could tell from its somewhat slower and less graceful maneuvers which of the Tholian vessels was the more vulnerable. The commander of the battle cruiser must also have made that assessment, either via his own expertise or thanks to his ship’s sensors, as the larger ship rotated on its axis as if to bring its weapons to bear on the compromised enemy attacker. As its primary hull moved into view, Sarith noted the blackened and pitted sections of hull plating where damage had been inflicted near the ship’s forward torpedo launcher.

“It’s unusual for a Klingon ship to be caught in such a compromising position,” Ineti said as he moved to stand next to Sarith. “Were I that ship’s commander, I might consider ritual suicide were I to fall victim to such a pedestrian blunder.”

Sarith frowned at her friend’s observation. “It’s not like you to underestimate an adversary, Ineti,” she said. “We know the Tholians can be formidable opponents. I’m not about to let our earlier encounter set the tone for how I approach this particular enemy. That victory was little more than fortunate happenstance.”

On the screen, the Klingon cruiser unleashed a barrage of weapons fire as it completed its turn, catching the wounded and now noticeably slower-moving Tholian vessel in a vicious onslaught. Even without the assistance of magnification to enhance the viewer’s image, she could see explosions wrenching apart hull plates as the smaller vessel twisted and spun to retreat from the barrage. Brief plumes of fire and rapidly escaping atmosphere—the noxious combination of superheated gases that contributed to a livable environment for Tholians—appeared from the new gashes in the ship’s hull. Fragments of hull and whatever might have been blown into space from inside the wounded ship sailed out, leaving behind a rapidly expanding cloud of debris.

“The Tholian vessel has lost all main power,” Darjil reported, “including life support. Its companion remains undamaged.”

“What about the Klingon ship?” Sarith asked.

Still at his own station, N’tovek replied, “They have sustained major damage to their primary propulsion system, aft shield generators, and forward disruptor banks.”