Declassified

“Once they cross seventy-five thousand kilometers,” Theriault said, “they might be able to spot us.”

Nassir nodded. “Helm, on my mark, disengage the tractor beam and maneuver us away from that rock. Bridy Mac, fire as soon as you get a clear shot. You’ve got your targets picked out?”

“Forward disruptor array and starboard nacelle,” McLellan replied. “That’s probably all we’ll have time for before they raise their shields.”

“Always the optimist,” Nassir said.

On the screen, the Klingon ship drew ever closer, its image growing so large that it seemed ready to punch through the forward bulkhead. How much longer would deception hold out?

“Eighty thousand kilometers,” McLellan said.

Nassir slapped the arm of his chair. “Now!”

At the helm, Lieutenant zh’Firro tapped a sequence of controls. “Disengaging tractor beam.” The image on the viewscreen began to clear within seconds as the Sagittariusbacked away from the massive chunk of thallium ore.

“Targeting!” McLellan called out, her own fingers a blur as they worked her console. “Firing!”

“They’re raising shields!” Theriault shouted.

McLellan punched the air with her left first. “Direct hits. I missed the disruptor array, but it still tore a chunk out of the primary hull. The starboard nacelle has massive damage. I don’t think they can go to warp, but they’re still maneuverable at impulse speeds.”

“Raise shields,” Nassir ordered, his tone sharp and direct. “Sayna, initiate evasive. Keep us out of their gun sights, and stand by to go to warp.”

“They’re coming about,” McLellan said, her fingers continuing to work. “Phasers standing by.”

Nassir replied, “Let’s hold off unless they don’t give us another choice.” Engaging the intercom once more, he said, “Engineering, are we ready?”

“Almost there, Skipper!”

Zh’Firro said, “Captain, I’m having trouble evading them. They’re still pretty maneuverable.”

“Not to mention three kinds of pissed,” Terrell said, realizing as he spoke that his grip on the back of Theriault’s chair was so tight that he was very near tearing away the upholstered material.

“They’re locking weapons!” McLellan shouted.

“Fire!” Nassir snapped, and the response was immediate as the Sagittariusreleased another barrage of phaser fire. On the tactical display at McLellan’s station, Terrell could see two white streaks representing the phaser beams as they crossed space to the larger crimson circle depicting the Klingon ship. The vessel’s movements, along with those of the Sagittarius,were such that both salvos missed their mark.

“Damn it!” McLellan hissed through gritted teeth. “They’re firing!”

Even before Nassir could order evasive action, zh’Firro was reacting, guiding the ship away from danger as she used the Sagittarius’s smaller stature to her advantage. Terrell, his attention divided between the main viewer and McLellan’s tactical display, could only watch as zh’Firro maneuvered the ship back toward its Klingon adversary.

“Whatever Ilucci’s going to do,” Terrell said, “he’d better do it now.”

“Engineering!” Nassir snapped.

“Go!”shouted Ilucci through the intercom.

Her fingers moving in frantic fashion across her console, zh’Firro executed a final evasive maneuver, dropping the Sagittariusbeneath the Klingon cruiser. Terrell was certain he could count rivets securing hull plates on the enemy vessel before it vanished from view an instant before those stars that were visible stretched, contorted, and extended into infinity as the ship leaped to warp.

“No sign of pursuit,” McLellan said after a moment. “Looks like we’re in the clear.”

Feeling the tension leave his body, Terrell uttered an audible sigh of relief. “A lawyer, my mother said. Or a doctor. I could’ve been a doctor.”

The comment had its intended effect, with everyone on the bridge laughing, smiling, or shaking their heads in disbelief.

“Hello?”Ilucci said over the still-open intercom frequency. “Is it over?”

Nassir leaned back in his chair, wiping sweat from his brow. “Yes, Master Chief, it’s over. Well done, if a little late.”

“Everyone’s a critic,”the engineer replied before the co

Chuckling at that, Nassir cleared his throat and straightened in his seat. “All right, Sayna. Since it appears we haven’t flown into a planet, star, or other interstellar obstacle, please plot us a course back to Vanguard.”

“Already laid in, sir,” the young Andorian replied.

“That was some nice flying,” McLellan said, reaching over to pat the helm officer on the arm.

“Nice job all around,” Terrell added. “Take the rest of the day off.” Reaching over once more, he tapped Theriault on the shoulder. “That goes double for you.”

The ensign smiled. “Thank you, Commander.”

Turning to face Nassir, Terrell asked, “What now?”

Shrugging, the captain replied, “Reports to file, repairs to finish, miles to go before we sleep, and all that.” He indicated the viewscreen and its view of warp-distorted space. “We got lucky today, but you and I both know this is only the begi

It was a sobering thought, but not an inaccurate one. If the Klingons were willing to act with aggression in order to claim Traelus II, there would be no stopping them if and when they found another planet of even greater value, and if that world happened to harbor a key to the mystery of the Taurus Meta-Genome, then the Federation’s problems would only worsen.

“Tomorrow,” he said, echoing Nassir’s comment.

Nassir nodded. “Count on it.”

11

T’Pry

“Good morning,” Sandesjo offered, her fleeting look of uncertainty upon first seeing T’Pry

T’Pry

Her smile broadening, Sandesjo released a small laugh. “You have a fu

“I certainly could have elected to wait a longer interval before calling on you,” T’Pry

In truth, since leaving Sandesjo at the officers’ club the previous evening, T’Pry