“Get that screen back on line,” Riker ordered, swallowing a curse. “In the meantime, activate every other available monitor so we can see what’s happening out there.”
As he moved to the aft end of the bridge, several monitors had already taken up the forward viewscreen’s slack.
“Shields down to forty-eight percent, Captain,” Keru said. Riker could hear the timbre of concern in his voice.
“The Klingons are moving in toward us, but they’re not firing at the Romulans,” Jaza said. “They appear to be taking up defensive positions between Titanand the skirmish line.”
“Circling the wagons,” Riker heard Deanna say while he studied one of the tactical displays and considered his options.
He spared a quick glance toward Akaar, Tuvok, and Spock. The expressions on all three faces were inscrutable, but Riker knew they were probably contemplating the same question he was; how to defend the ship without actually engaging in—or escalating—the developing battle. If the Klingons are holding back,Riker thought, then Khegh must have decided that the Romulans have him overmatched, and that today isn’t such a good day to die.
The turbolift doors opened, and a pair of engineers stepped onto the bridge, carrying their tools on a small hovering platform. Riker barely spared them a glance.
“Mr. Keru, can you target just the weapons on those ships?” Riker asked. If Titancould force both sides to stop firing at each other for at least a while, then some other more permanent solution might present itself.
“Hard to say, Captain,” Keru said, frowning at his monitors. “We’ve taken some damage. But I think I can get a lock on the weapons of some of those older ships the Remans are using.”
“Lieutenant Rager, get me Khegh,” Riker said. A moment later, the scowling visage of the burly Klingon general appeared on one of the monitors.
“A touchy situation, is it not, Captain Riker?”Khegh said, baring his yellow teeth in a fierce smile.
“General, we need to stop the hostilities,” Riker said. “Do you have any influence over the Remans?”
Khegh’s smile disappeared. “They seem to have chosen their course, Captain. I doubt we could dissuade them.”He assayed a guileless expression, but failed miserably. “And truthfully, why should we want to?”
“We are prepared to target only the weapons systems of the Reman ships,” Riker said, feeling a trickle of cold sweat begin to run down the back of his neck. “Can you engage the Romulans, withoutdestroying their ships?”
“Where is the fun in that?”Khegh asked, grinning again. He turned and barked an order in Klingon, addressing his crew. “Besides, I thought you wanted to keep us from fighting these treacherous RomulanpetaQ .”
“Believe me, asking you to fire on Romulan ships isn’t my first choice,” Riker said. “But we need to stop this war before it gets completely out of hand.”
He wasn’t surprised when Khegh signed off without acknowledging him.
“The Klingons are breaking away from us,” Vale said, looking up from her console. “Our shields are still at less than half-strength, Captain. Staying out of harm’s way would be as good an idea for us as for our convoy ships.”
Riker slapped the combadge on his chest. “Riker to engineering. We need to get our shields back to full power, Ledrah. Now.”
“We’re already working on it, sir,”the chief engineer’s calm voice replied.
Riker strode back down toward his chair, aware that the eyes of his wife had been on him for the last several minutes. He could feel her calming influence, even though she wasn’t speaking aloud.
He turned toward Keru. “Mr. Keru, you may fire when ready, but I do notwant any of those ships destroyed. Just make sure they can’t take any more potshots at anyone else.”
“Yes, sir,” Keru said.
Tuvok stepped toward the captain’s chair. “Captain Riker, if you require additional help, I was the tactical officer aboard Voyagerfor seven years. I can assist Mr. Keru if you have a targeting console to spare.”
Riker nodded curtly. “Glad to have your help, Commander. Two good marksmen are better than one.” He turned to see the forward viewscreen flicker to life for a moment, then wink out again. In that instant, Riker caught a glimpse of one of Khegh’s Klingon battle cruisers swooping in toward one of the newer Romulan warbirds, while a phaser burst from Titanlanced out toward an older, Reman-crewed ship.
“Sorry, sir,” the engineer said, holding up a pointed spanner. “We’ll have it back up in just a moment.”
Riker noted that the pair working on the viewscreen were the Polynesian twin ensigns. He could never tell them apart, so he was glad in this instance that he could just use their mutual surname. “As quickly as you can, Ensign Rossini.”
“I’ve tried hailing Praetor Tal’Aura, but our signal apparently isn’t getting through,” Deanna said, looking up from the console she had snapped down from the side of her chair. Her dark eyes grew wider, and he felt her speaking directly into his mind.
This is not your fault, Will. I’m not even sure that Ambassador Spock could have prevented this, regardless of what he believes. He might only have delayed the Reman attack.
Small comfort,Imzadi ,he thought in response. It feels as if we’re trying to keep a boat from sinking with a bucket brigade.
She frowned slightly at his boat reference, and he was certain she was remembering their honeymoon. Suddenly, an urgent voice pulled his full attention back to the crisis at hand.
“Captain, one of the Remans is closing on our port bow! Collision course!” Rager’s voice was high-pitched, though not panicked.
“Evasive maneuvers!” Riker roared.
The viewscreen flickered back on just in time to display an obsolete D-7 cruiser barreling toward Titan,filling almost the entire image area.
Then the incoming vessel appeared to pull away. Riker felt intense relief.
Until the other ship was hit by some other vessel’s disruptor fusillade, breaking her hull into burning, atmosphere-venting fragments that careened in every direction.
One rather large, jagged piece was headed straight for Titan’s new evasive heading.
“All decks, brace for impact!” he shouted into his combadge. He saw Lavena and Rager frantically entering commands, but he knew that even their considerable skills wouldn’t be enough.
A cacophonous sound rent the air, and Riker felt himself thrown violently backward. The lighting dimmed to near-darkness, lit only by a shower of sparks. Amid the blare of klaxons and the tortured moans of strained structural integrity fields, Riker heard a scream, and a wet sound. Then he crashed against something hard, a flare of pain igniting within his left shoulder.
A few seconds ticked past before the bridge’s emergency lights kicked on, bathing the scene in an eerie orange glow. Will struggled to sit, aware that he had landed near his command chair, his back up against the upperlevel support frame for the bridge’s raised aft work stations. He heard Deanna moan, and saw her sit up from where she was slumped over her chair’s armrest, held in place by the autorestraints.
Riker placed his hand against the deck, feeling something wet and warm there as he turned toward Vale’s chair. He saw that she was sitting in it, held in place by her harness; she looked dazed, though not obviously harmed. An errant thought flickered through his mind: Clearly the lesson here is to stay in my chair.
As Riker struggled to his feet, he heard the other members of the bridge crew moaning and moving around him. He stooped near the conn, where Ensign Lavena lay after evidently having opened her restraints; her suit had sprung a leak, and its fluids were rapidly spilling onto the deck. Riker realized that this was the source of the moisture he had felt on the deck, and was thankful that it wasn’t anyone’s blood.