Categories > TV > Buffy the Vampire Slayer > BUFFY Meets STAR TREK
- War -
--War Arena--
29
The USS Enterprise charged into the heart of the battlefield and cut open a great wound in the swarm of hostile craft - ripping through them like a dart. As if an angel, the flagship went gliding in past 2 Klingon Fighters to meet a dozen enemy shuttles head-on.
Shivering under heavy phaser-fire, the Starship pitched and fired her main banks - dorsal and ventral. A Federation Runabout felt the lash of the Enterprise and fell away briefly. A Vulcan freighter faired worse, as its shield failed and a nacelle punctured. Three craft dodged the incoming fire as another four were hit with little damage. Enterprise passed and let off a flurry of shots from her aft strip. The Runabout evaded one to be hit by the next, slowing it some.
Straightening out, the Starship headed for the far edge of the war zone.
*
The klaxons were now silent as the red lights still flashed, illuminating the faces of the bridge crew with a bloody hue.
"Status?" Picard called out dryly.
McPhee scanned her Ops panel. "Minimal damage."
"Shields holding," said Worf as he multitasked between phasers and communications. "...Incoming message from the gHin TAQ."
Picard spun forward. "On screen," he said, and observed the battlefield dissolve into the bridge of the Imperial Klingon Flagship. There, on the command thrown, sat a middle-aged heavy-set warrior.
"ENTERPRISE! YOU ARE EARLY!" he roared heartily, showing no trace of fear to them or his crew, as was expected from a warrior of such position. No weakness.
Picard lifted himself from his chair.
"CAPTAIN PICARD, I PRESUME! ...I AM DAJUQ - OVERSEER OF THIS ASSAULT FORCE AND CAPTAIN OF THE GHIN TAQ!" he boomed in introduction. "As this is a Starfleet operation, I and my crew offer our services to you."
"Our thanks, Captain DAJUQ," Picard noted with a brief pause. "...If you'll bear with us, ...we are about to change the nature of the playing field."
Captain DaJuQ looked a little perplexed, but nodded. "We will give you cover! But be warned, Enterprise, these PATAK will come at you on ALL sides until you are spun dizzy! Though I see you have a Klingon manning your guns!" he added approvingly. "A GOOD choice! ...Ambassador," he added with a tip of the head to Worf. With that, the Klingon's transmission abruptly ended and their path ahead returned.
Worf glanced back with a subtle smile to Martok who, rather amusingly for the chancellor, had been completely overlooked by DaJuQ.
Martok gave an unconvincing huff of indifference. No doubt his Klingon pride had been wounded.
The view before them now lay empty of vessels.
"Optimal distance achieved, Captain," announced McPhee.
"Lay in a circumnavigational course at zero elevation, Mr. Jutla."
"Done, sir," Jutla replied within seconds.
"Initiate."
*
Enterprise rolled sideways and spun about - a dozen small craft on her tail - until the mighty Klingon Warship slid across their path, joined by 2 Attack Fighters, and drew their fire.
The Enterprise arced freely in open space some kilometres from the main conflict and began circling the perimeter. The warp engines vented suddenly and gushed a dirty cloud of yellow plasma in their wake.
*
Picard had again sat down. "Modified torpedoes, Mr. Worf. ... Begin."
The Klingon targeted precisely - and hit the release.
*
As the Starship circled, creating an expanding cloud trail as it went, she began releasing torpedoes two by two; one fired high, one low. Each reaching a set distance before exploding in a yellow haze. Exposed to open space, the charged gas reacted just as it was expected - by expanding. Spreading out like grasping hands ensnaring their prey. Soon, a spherical barrier began to form. A wall - impenetrable to sensors or comm. signals.
An Arena.
They had almost come full-circle to their point of origin when their plan was discovered. A flood of enemy craft broke away from the gHin TAQ and made for the Enterprise at a rocketing pace.
Worf fired off 2 more torpedoes - and the shuttles went mad. The upper torpedo barely got underway before it was intercepted by a Federation cargo pod and exploded short of its mark. The 2nd torpedo proved too fast for the 1st kamikaze shuttle. But, with 10 more in line, it wasn't long before it connected with one.
*
"They're crazy," Riker scorned.
Worf stifled his own disdain. "They are attempting to create gaps in the field!"
"Do we have enough torpedoes to compensate?" asked the captain, himself stifling a potential rise of panic. Their entire operation hinged on the completion of this gas blockade.
Worf checked his station to verify how many of the plasma missiles remained. "Negative, Captain. We have only two modified torpedoes in reserve. If the enemy continue their strategy, we will fail to complete the barrier."
Picard gave it a split-second of thought. "We won't fail today. Mr. Jutla - bring us about."
Jutla locked on full forward thrusters at portside and full reverse thrusters at starboard, swinging the great ship around in a 24th century handbrake-turn.
"Worf - recalculate target-points," Picard continued, turning to McPhee. "Prepare two class-five probes for launch."
The Enterprise quaked again under fierce fire as she returned for a second pass of the gap.
Picard issued Worf and McPhee each with specific orders and then sat back, his finger playing tensely over his lips. ...A moment of silent prayer... "Now."
*
Enterprise launched 2 probes away.
Each and every enemy shuttle on her tail immediately made a dash for them without a thought or regard, determined and efficient in their aim to bring those missiles down. But the decoy-probes were followed a moment later by the final 2 genuine torpedoes on the correct headings. By the time the enemy realised their error... it was too late.
Not only because the missiles hit their marks, but because now the full wrath of the Federation flagship's phasers were directed right at them.
Shuttles parted like waves of the Red Sea before Moses as the Starship stabbed at them with 7.2 megawatt blasts of phased energy, while a squadron of Klingon Fighters joined the Mêlée.
*
Wolath, son of Unang, drove his spear-like Attack Fighter into the very hub of enemy shuttles. To his right, and set back a little in the cockpit, his son - Korg - hammered the weapons controls with his enormous digits.
3 more fighters followed them in - to be confronted by 2 Andorian Defenders, a Vulcan scout-ship, and 5 Starfleet shuttles.
They were tough odds... yet sensors showed more were coming.
Above them, in a relative way, hung the Enterprise as she stood her ground - lashing phaser blasts at the small swarm, and receiving some stinging attacks in return.
"Vaag to Emperor Wing," Wolath bellowed over his comm. as he cut across the nose of a Defender to beat its weapons-guiding system. "Execute Gowron manoeuvre."
With that, the 4 Fighters paired-off.
The Gowron manoeuvre was a rather devious tactic for Klingons - much like the late Gowron himself. But the odds were not in their favour this day, so even underhand tactics were honourable.
One of the Fighters drew into position behind the Vaag and followed it as Wolath led them through the enemy herd. As they went, Korg would fire on selected targets with his disruptors. This would draw the fire of said target... allowing the trailing Fighter to pass with a clean attack.
It worked well for a time - destroying the Vulcan Scout and 2 of the Starfleet craft - but the enemy were far more underhand than even Wolath expected...
Out the corner of his eye he caught sight of movement through the window port - something only metres away! And coming in fast!
A siren roared.
The Vaag threw back and quaked painfully as an Andorian Defender exploded against their hull.
Korg's station burst into sparks and shrapnel. Fire and noise filled the cabin. The Klingon snapped back and smashed into the metal deck.
"Son!" Woloth struggled to regain his seat in the sloped cockpit. His eyes were fixed on Korg - who lay inert where he landed. Until a warning horn sounded at his panel. The Klingon's eyes first turned to his sensor monitor... then to the window...
A second shuttle pounded into the Vaag head-on. Wolath saw showers of light - feeling himself weightless for an eternal instant before hearing the sound of his own body break onto the deck. Only blackness met him then. ... There came no Great Hall of Warriors.
*
On the Enterprise:
A purple candle trembled slightly in its mount under the shadow of a star-filled window. No flame yet burned at its untouched wick and no wind was present to shake it so.
Rupert Giles steadied himself as the Enterprise regained its equilibrium, and he continued to lay out a further 11 candles about his quarters until they formed a wide circle of 12.
Willow Rosenberg paced. She paced across the room and back again as she had for almost a quarter hour - mouthing words as she read from a PADD in her hands - trying to familiarise herself with the weighty spell she was about to leap into head-first. Well... soul-first.
And Buffy Summers - the eveready Slayer - sat on her ass for a change; prepping the spell ingredients in the central shrine at the heart of their own magical arena. She was just laying out the large clamshell to fill with sand as a flash caught her eye.
The shields outside Giles' window sparked suddenly and the room rocked with such violence that Buffy actually felt her knees leave the carpet.
Some of the candles tipped over onto the floor and a table light fell and smashed apart.
The quake subsided slowly and the gang, after a brief moment of panic, looked nervously to each other.
Without a word, Giles went about straightening the candles. Willow stepped back into her paces. And Buffy, after glancing ponderously out the window again, returned to work.
But something inside her said... This wasn't going to go well.
*
Wolath awoke violently to blind panic.
Death had come! ... Yet around him he saw the familiar rear wall of the Vaag cockpit.
He regained himself, realising that death had spared him to fight on. To avenge his son! He tried to bring himself up, but felt the bones in his leg turn against themselves. Wolath let out a roar and braced himself with an arm that proved weak and damaged. He fell back - sprawled out on the deck. Closing his eyes, and allowing the throbbing pains to subside, he considered how he might overcome his disabilities so that he may repay the enemy for the loss of Korg.
...But where was Korg?
Wolath turned his head from side to side but saw no corpse where one had been. It occurred to him that the second shunt could have propelled his son to the front of...
Wolath paused. He could hear...
...He could hear the sound of the helm controls initiating. Then came the distinct sense of motion. The Fighter was moving. Someone manned the helm!
He tilted his head back to see a flipped view of the cockpit controls. There sat the distinctive silhouette of his son.
"KORG!" He could barely contain himself. Wolath pushed himself up on his wounded arm. Following his right thigh down, he came to the shattered knee where the lower leg bent away on a surreal angle. He grimaced and let out a growl of impatience.
"SON!" he called forward, turning to view the back of Korg's head. "Hold her steady a little longer!" He saw on the wall his mounted bat'leth. "I will be there momentarily!"
Wolath rolled himself onto his good knee and grabbed at his bat'leth. It unhooked from the wall with a little coaxing and he made a walking cane of it - holding the near-grip in his right fist and planting the far point through the grilles of the deck plates. Raising himself up, he dragged his leg to the gunner station and dropped into the seat like a dead Targ into a dish.
"What is our status?" asked the seasoned warrior.
No answer came. His son was locked in 'Go'Dar' - a Klingon rage. Wolath examined his targeting display and noted a number of viable shots. When he attempted to fire on them, however, he found his console re-routed. He looked to Korg, whose attention was fixed forward - his burned hands passing over the controls.
"Do not try to do this alone, Son. Let us repay them together!" Wolath beseeched.
No answer. The Vaag looped as Korg manoeuvred into an attack posture. His father leant forward in his seat to witness the view from the window himself.
Enemy shuttles flitted by - occupied with other targets - and the view steadied when the bulk of the Enterprise filled their sight.
The Vaag closed in on the Starship's underbelly.
"What are you doing?!" Wolath pounded his weak fist into Korg's shoulder to force his attention.
And then Korg did turn.
Korg - with half his face gone - turned to his father with a deep hiss.
Wolath could not retain a shriek as he recoiled back into his chair. There, breath came quickly and his mind fell into disarray.
What was once Korg returned focus to the controls... and a ball of phased energy cannoned through space into the shields of the Enterprise.
When he saw the Starship swinging around at them and firing off phaser shots, Wolath was hit by a heavy dose of reality. His son was dead. The tall tales of an Army of the Dead were really true.
...And the Enterprise was going to destroy the Vaag.
The Klingon forced himself through pain and anger out of the seat and upright. He locked the bat'leth tip into the floor grid and stood over his son now, considering what his final act should be.
Beside Korg's head, his mek'leth rested in its wall-mount. Wolath took it. Held it in a shaking fist. Waited for uncertainty to pass. Brought it up until the tip hit the ceiling....
Then sliced it deep into Korg's shoulder - tearing through flesh until it met resistance and came to a bloody stop under the Klingon's right collarbone. Wolath teetered back with a near-gasp. Korg's head and neck were inches from being severed from the body.
A cold moment passed before Korg slumped into the controls.
The Vaag pitched sideways and went out of control. Wolath almost fell, but the sword held firm in the deck. He managed through pain to drag his son's body out of its seat and regain the ship quickly. What he found when he did, however, was dire.
The Enterprise hit him with another blast and he tried to evade. Noting that 2 Attack Fighters from his own wing were now closing in on him, Wolath attempted to contact them - only to find the comm. system fused.
He took his hands off the controls then and looked out the view port. He could now see with his own eyes the 2 Klingon Fighters approaching at speed. Wolath stood without using his sword and faced his doom grimly, yet anticipating his journey to Sto-Vo-Kor.
The Fighters came in - firing their disruptors wildly - shaking Wolath's world and filling it with sparks and the smell of burning machinery.
Behind them, The USS Enterprise dropped into sight and closed in on him.
But Wolath accepted his death proudly. "I die not before I have both avenged my son, and seen my enemy slain at my feet."
Korg spat suddenly at his heels and grabbed at his father's twisted limb.
Wolath gasped in shock and disappointment-
Then the Vaag exploded into dust.
Still, the Hall of Warriors did not meet him...
*
Wolath materialised to find himself in a transporter room surrounded by a group of Klingons led by the famous General Kuhl.
"Welcome to the Enterprise my fellow warrior!" Kuhl greeted him. "Quickly - tend to your wounds then return and join our boarding party!"
Wolath's heart lifted and he allowed the Starfleet medics to take him away. Soon he would be mended. Then he would deliver his vengeance!
*
Captain Picard stepped back from tactical. "Shields up. Damage report?"
McPhee examined Ops. "Some minor scarring to the hull on decks five and six."
"Our shields are at ninety-two percent, Captain," Worf noted. "The Klingon is being taken to sickbay."
"His condition?"
"Stable."
"What's the situation with the barrier, Mr. McPhee?"
The lieutenant scanned the cloud wall. "I'm still reading a small pocket of low ionisation," she reported. "But the gas is still expanding... it's just a matter of time now, sir."
"Then let's make the most of it," Riker urged.
Picard agreed. "Fire at will, Mr. Worf."
*
Near 30 hostile shuttles came swooping in on them in a tight formation firing phasers and plasma charges, and the Enterprise met them violently.
*
Picard watched the viewer with hands gripping tightly to his seat as the Starship rocked and trembled.
Klingon fighters darted around them, combating the overwhelming number of small ships; almost obscured by a constant barrage of weapon flashes.
Worf, even having transferred rear phasers to Martok's aft station, struggled to handle the sheer odds against them.
*
A former Sal Fusian science shuttle - manned by 3 demons all possessed of the will of Evil - evaded 2 energy blasts from the Imperial Klingon Fighter G'bah and cut across her bow, scraping her shields. She entered the inner defences around the Enterprise as the Starship fired a hastily aimed phaser beam. The shot pierced and evaporated the shuttles' shielding and ruptured a large wound in its hull. The vessel spiralled and hit the Enterprise' shields protecting her command module.
*
The bridge jerked for an instant, a standing crewman falling hard and heavy into the carpet. The viewscreen flickered, almost dissolved, then returned to full clarity as the impact subsided.
*
The demon shuttle, torn and broken, fell away into the void and vanished through the writhing mists of the gas cloud.
It was then that Picard made the wise choice to regroup their forces and hold out as a solid unit until such time as the barrier formed completely.
The Enterprise and the gHin TAQ came together at the heart of the forming arena, with 10 of the original 18 Klingon Attack Fighters still working for the powers of good.
The enemy were still strong, however, and many at almost 80 ships.
The two Starships drew into a huddle with the Fighters and protected each other. Soon they found themselves caught within a bubble of assailants - they, in turn, caught within a bubble of slowly expanding gas...
Right then, it all changed.
The remaining break in the wall of ionised gas finally sealed.
In that very instant, confusion spread through the Army of Darkness as Evil's link to his minions was severed.
The Klingons continued picking off targets until it became obvious the enemy were no longer able to fight. As the Klingons saw it, it didn't take a warrior to kill a toothless Targ.
And, so, the spherical arena grew still and quiet - but for the occasional kangarooing of a rival shuttle at the hands of a dazed demon.
One Klingon Fighter, manned by both dead and inanimate former warriors, drifted almost with purpose - locked into its last assigned course.
McPhee on the Enterprise clocked it at 400 metres and closing. With a swift and well-executed shot from Worf, the Fighter's engine system was phasered to a pulp. A last-minute tug from a tractor-beam sent it ambling slowly into empty space.
Silence came at last.
Almost painful in its stillness.
*
The Enterprise' command centre had become hushed and static with anticipation. It felt to all like the break in the storm.
"Now he'll have no choice but to enter the fight," Riker indicated, drawing the crew back into the room.
Captain Picard didn't take his eyes from the screen. "And when he does, we'll have him, Number One."
Riker flipped open the small terminal at his chair-side. "Scan the wall for any localised spatial distortions."
McPhee obliged.
"At the first sign, Ambassador," Picard said to Worf, "lock on with everything and fire."
"What about Data?" asked Counsellor Troi, after prising her bottom lip from between her teeth.
Picard closed his eyes a moment, pained. When they opened, his resolve was still present. "Our priority is to cripple his ship. Without knowing what other tactical improvements have been made to it... we shan't take any chance. My order stands."
Worf caught Troi's pleading look to him. The captain was correct, of course. But, for Deanna's sake, it wouldn't hurt to report any risks that may be present. "Captain, there is a chance we may destroy the J'ktah'rij," he said, referring to the Bird's title.
"Everything we've got, Mr. Worf."
"Aye." The tactical console chimed. "We are being hailed by the gHin TAQ."
"Open a channel."
Worf played a hand over the controls and gave Picard the signal.
"gHin TAQ, this is the Enterprise. Go ahead."
When DaJuQ's bold voice rang over the comm. channel, his confusion and near-impatience was apparent. In simple terms, he was asking Picard just what in the hell was happening. The gas sphere, the sudden standing-down of the enemy. It was all so bizarre. And it took some carefully chosen words from Picard to explain the situation without letting out too much of the 'supernatural' aspects.
Although DaJuQ was not left with a clear understanding, Picard did make it clear that he should keep up his guard and watch the enemy craft very closely. Anything could happen. And they had to be ready for it.
"There is a cloaked Bird of Prey out there, Captain," Picard explained. "And it is our task to find it... before it finds Earth."
"Aah!" DaJuQ roared. "A HUNT!" There came the sound of stretching hide as his body immediately drew upright in his seat. "This will be a GLORIOUS pursuit! gHin TAQ out!"
Picard blinked, and turned to share a beguiled look with his Number One.
"At least someone's having fun," noted Riker.
*
The USS Enterprise rolled forward. She drew close to the barrier and began to circle the enclosure, scanning thoroughly as she arced. The gas had formed a shell of ochre cloud infused with electrical fluctuations - sending sharp tendrils of colour darting through its mass. Long seconds passed that stretched to minutes in the hollow with not a stirring from the enemy. The ships of 'Data's' fleet caught within the walls of the gas arena floundered, halted, and drifted without order.
*
Martok viewed with tense, unwavering eyes the screen before him. He was seeing an advanced model of the gas wall as the Ops sensors were reading it. At every little dimple and fizz, he would go back and re-check - scanning again the size and nature of the distortions for telltale evidence of a cloaked ship.
Worf hung over tactical - himself tensed physically - preparing for the general's results.
*
Enterprise cruised steadily along the interior of the arena, with the gHin TAQ hovering at its centre. About her, a garrison of Imperial Fighters held themselves ready. Waiting. Watchful. Prepared for the inevitability of a sudden onslaught.
*
Worf's eyes were glaring down at the detailed readings from Martok's station as they were patched through to tactical. At intervals, just out of his own natural vigilance, he would allow a glance at the external sensor monitor. The first few times, he saw the same thing; disorientated shuttles drifting randomly about the battlefield like leaves in a gentle breeze. This would have remained his view had he not noted a type-9A Starfleet shuttle drifting out rather close to the Enterprise' underside. For now, as he zipped his eyes over to the sensor read-out, the very same shuttle seemed to be... drifting in the opposite direction. And, unlike leaves, these shuttles were not susceptible to the changing winds.
Worf gave up watching the barrier scans right then. Instead, he focused entirely on the shuttles. Like a hawk, he watched their every movement, every shift of axis, every rotation and course irregularity.
Before long, a knowing scowl that bore his gnarled teeth spread over his face. "Captain!"
*
In space, dead and demonic fingers triggered tiny thruster pulses, and shuttles began to steadily move...
*
On the Enterprise' bridge, Picard looked on intently at the viewscreen.
"They appear to be aiming for a loose, surrounding attack formation," Worf explained.
"That's subtle posturing for a herd of animals," Riker observed. His meaning was quite clear - the damn shuttles were back under control! Which meant...
"He's here," Picard stated.
"Should I send warning to Captain DaJuQ?" Worf asked.
"No, Mr. Worf," answered Picard. "Let's not give ourselves away just yet. Our comm. may be monitored. Scan for that distortion, now that we know there is one out there. Find him before he clears the wall."
*
The Enterprise pushed up to the cloud-face as close as Jutla dared to take her and picked up pace to cover ground.
*
Sensor information flashed across Martok's screen in a blur. His elbows on the workstation, hands rolled into fists at his temples, he struggled to see any clear data. He noted the irony in that as the only one capable of reading anything at such a rate was Data himself.
Every thirty seconds or so the screen would stop - fixed on a pocket of space within the barrier with irregularly low ion disturbance - yet, every time on closer inspection, with a more focused scan, it would reveal SOME ionisation within.
This boiled Martok's blood each time.
It was a risk, but... he HAD to narrow this down.
The chancellor quickly took into account the size and shape of a cloak generated by a Bird of Prey of the model they sought. He programmed this into the computer with the added parameter that such a pocket must exhibit a crisp, clearly defined edge and shape. He had no idea if it made the search impossible - given the extremely narrow search field he was inputting - but he had grown far too impatient and time was out. Martok punched the board, sending out a wide-beam scan. If any results came back from this narrow search, he KNEW one would HAVE to be that ship.
"La Forge to bridge."
Picard prayed for no problems. "Report."
"Some good news, Captain. I've modified the forward phaser emitter to release inverse-tachyon particles. If he's using a tachyon deflector, these babies should adhere to his cloak like they're steel filings on a magnet."
Picard gave a sigh of satisfaction. "Thank you, Geordi."
Martok's station gave off an alert tone and the screen lit up with a result. Just ONE!
Zero percent ions... moving slowly through the gas at constant speed...
"Got it!" The chancellor wheeled around to tactical. "Zero-eight-seven mark two-seven-one! - NOW!"
Worf already had it.
*
Enterprise released a sudden beam of phased energy into the far side if the barrier wall.
The shot hit the target precisely, dispersing a shower of inverse-tachyons, and the hidden Bird's cloaking field lit up like a massive disco ball. The now clearly visible target moved swiftly into the war arena and an army of shuttles returned to life fully - meeting the wrath of the Klingon Warship.
*
Picard held onto his chair and edged forward. "Fire!"
*
The Enterprise unloaded all barrels - sending a tirade of photon torpedoes coursing across the void while phasers stabbed out with wild purpose.
*
Within the dark of the Bird's bridge, the possessed Commander Data reeled as sparks signalled each impact of fire and rattled his vessel madly.
"Damn it! Shut off that tachyon diffuser! And switch to secondary cloak NOW!" He slipped across to the forward consoles and leaned toward the viewer - displaying the full form of the attacking Starship. "Damn you, Data... why the hell didn't you see that one coming? Alter course and position! ...Time to show these Godless Starfleet infidels the power I wield!"
*
Worf fired two more photons into the inverse-tachyon field - only to see them travel through and beyond - hitting nothing.
"We've lost him," the Klingon admitted hesitantly.
"Somehow he managed to shed the inverse-tachyons," Riker observed from the terminal beside his seat.
Picard's teeth gritted together and the arm of his command chair felt the fierceness of his grip.
Riker tried to ease his captain's tension - though he felt his words held little hope: "He can't return fire without dropping that cloak. Worst-case scenario; we have to defeat his army of shuttles before he shows himself."
Picard's brow dropped. "There are possibilities far worse, Number One."
Riker puzzled.
"They all depend on what his other weapon is."
Of course. Riker had almost forgotten. The enemy didn't just escape Traders' World with a tachyon diffuser. They had something else in their arsenal. With any luck... it wouldn't turn out to be anything too sinister.
*
The great disruptor turrets of the gHin TAQ spun and locked - her cannons firing ceaselessly at the cloud of enemy vessels around her. Some were brave enough to drop in close to her shields and attempt to take out her turrets. Each time they were met fiercely by a Klingon Fighter.
On the command deck, Captain DaJuQ sat upon his throne, barely feeling the impact of enemy weapons. He called to his tactical officer: "How many of our Fighters are still operational?"
The balding tactician checked his monitor. "Eight still reporting in!"
"How many of those are protecting this ship?"
"Three, Captain."
A slight tremble passed under them followed by a deep and hollow rumble.
"Turret five has been disabled!"
"Number of turret attacks is increasing, Captain!" weapons officer Gruun added.
DaJuQ growled under his breath. "Call in all remaining shuttles to our perimeter! Now!"
*
Worf kept his eyes fixed firmly on his tactical display; looking for any sign of that ship. Even when he noted and reported three shuttles that had moved in on their position, he kept a lookout. After all, what better way was there to distract your enemy than by sending in an attack from another angle?
Three Sal Fusian Runners drove in towards the Enterprise from the starboard side and fired up their weapons systems.
Worf targeted the closest attacker, noting a weakness in its shields. He blasted it only twice with phaser fire and the small ship tore apart. The next two came in together and were not so weak. They fired wildly at the Starship as they closed in.
Worf made the best lock he could on one and shot out a phaser beam. The target, rather sharply, side-slipped to avoid - moving dangerously near to its sister ship.
This Worf saw as an opportunity. He fired again and again - the 1st Runner dodged each phaser blast until it almost sideswiped the 2nd. Both shuttles were forced off-course, breaking their attack.
The ambassador took complete advantage - dispatching them with a bombardment of phaser fire. The twin Runners shattered into debris.
The torpedoes he was saving for the Bird.
There came the shrill tone of a tactical alert warning.
In the moment it had taken Worf to blink, it happened.
McPhee screamed at Ops: "Incoming!"
Worf grabbed onto his console. "Brace for impact!"
A great BOOM rocked the ship.
People slammed into their workstations.
A second hit brought a thundering earthquake down on them - throwing McPhee from her seat.
Jutla initiated evasive measures.
*
Enterprise returned multiple fire...
...And hit nothing.
*
The room soon stabilised. Riker was about to call for medics when McPhee dragged herself up from the deck. "I'm fine," she guessed, checking herself over and locating a soreness in her elbow. "Just bruised." She took back her post.
"He's firing through the cloak!" Worf called out.
Captain Picard's lips stiffened.
"At least now we know what he's got," noted Riker.
Mcphee reported: "Decks ten through thirteen have lost power in sections three and four. Sickbay reports multiple casualties."
"Shields down to eighty-four percent," Worf added. "Phaser power reduced by a quarter."
"Enemy damage, Mr. Worf?"
His lips tightened. "Negative impact." He almost said 'I missed'.
"I don't understand it," Troi challenged. "How can he have obtained technology this advanced at a place like the Bazari Territory?"
Geordi's voice poured over the open comm: "Maybe it's not so advanced," he offered. "I can think of a risky and unstable way or two it could be achieved. ...The torpedoes could be programmed to punch a hole through the cloaking field - but that runs the risk of destabilising the field and destroying the ship completely. Or... if he had a double-layered cloak... he could simply fire, raise a second cloak closer to the hull, and drop the primary... allowing the weapon to continue on course. Either way... it doesn't help us. Unless he blows himself up."
Picard did not expect such luck.
*
Data slammed back into his command seat. "Bring the tachyon deflector back online. I doubt they'll be firing anymore of those nasty little inverse-tachyons at us. Something tells me it was one of La Forge's last-minute tactics." Completely in a realm of his own, he chuckled away to himself. "Well done, Geordi. But the final surprise will be mine to deliver."
*
"Mr. Worf - report."
"No sign, Captain. His cloak is flawless."
Picard sighed and spoke into the comm: "Geordi, can you give us more inverse-tachyon particles?"
"I only had time to generate enough for that first shot, Captain. Right now we're just trying to hold her together down here."
It looked like they'd have to fire in the dark and hope for a lucky shot or two.
That was until McPhee turned in her seat and said the fateful words: "I think we're out of time, sir. The cloud is dispersing."
He tried not to let his disappointment show. "How long?"
"Within minutes."
*
Swooping in, a score of shuttles attacked them in tightly organised units.
It was a sweeping and relentless assault on all sides. Just as DaJuQ had warned.
*
"Shields at eighty percent!" Worf roared as the ship rocked.
((( BOOM )))
"Seventy-six percent."
((( BOOM )))
"Sixty-eight percent."
"Starboard shields weakening on decks sixteen, seventeen and eighteen; sections five to nine," called McPhee.
*
A torpedo materialised in free space, sailing headlong through the void, and crashed into Enterprise' Stardrive section.
*
Geordi pitched over into the system display table as sparks fired from terminals on all sides of engineering. Crewmembers dropped and dived for cover. The forcefields guarding their warp core stressed and warnings flared. Geordi held onto the display unit and, before he could assess its readings, it went out like a dead lamp.
Jutla attempted manoeuvres to protect the engineering levels but the invisible Bird matched his every step and still managed to avoid return-fire.
Torpedo followed torpedo until the damage was such it punched a hole right through their shields.
An entire conduit fired its contents across main engineering like a mass of writhing, steaming internal organs.
Disembodied voices called through the rising smoke cloud:
"ODN hardline stability compromised!"
"Primary systems failing!"
"Initiate secondary power network!" La Forge yelled back as he tried to get his systems table up and running again.
The Enterprise lurched in every direction at once.
Over the comm, a scream of imminent warning came from Lab Technician Rhannon Hallar - quickly cut off by an explosion of static.
"The back-up processor is gone, Commander!" Wells reported.
Worse than that... the processor...and probably the whole science lab with it...
La Forge crawled up from inside the display table as it flickered back to life. "Switching to auxiliary systems."
He was joined by Benson. "Emergency power only. Forcefields down, containment field still holding."
"Divert all power available to warp containment. Keep that core together!"
*
Dozens of small ships criss-crossed around them, giving Worf an almost impossible counter-offensive.
Enterprise spun around like an aircraft in a nose-dive to avoid the enemy attack on the engineering hull; firing phasers from all banks; destroying a few shuttles, crippling some. Most of the shots dispersing without a hit.
*
On Picard's command terminal, gaps were clearly beginning to show in the arena wall. They were out of time and overwhelmed. Picard gave in to the inevitable and ordered the fall-back plan.
The channel to engineering was still open. "It's time, Geordi."
"Understood," he replied. "I'll be right up when I'm done here."
*
The USS Enterprise twisted about onto the correct heading and rolled away from the fight.
The Klingons, under orders, followed the Federation Starship and passed quickly through the mist and out of the war zone.
Darkness scoffed at their cowardice. He pitied them, but not enough to give them a second of relief. He moved his army after them, still many at 50 shuttles, and sneered every metre of the way. He knew Picard had something up his sleeve. Probably acting more wounded than he seemed. Likely would be poised ready for him on the other side. No matter. His fate was already decided. His and that of the universe as a whole. Rhamhal of the Pestihl'nhar was an invisible enemy with enough drive and all the torpedoes he needed to do the job.
*
Geordi cleared his people from engineering and set the final wheels in motion down there before heading for the bridge.
*
There was a moment of anticipation as the Bird of Prey drifted through the haze to meet them.
*
When his vessel emerged through the cloud, Data observed his viewer through narrow eyes. The yellow haze thinned away to reveal Klingon Fighters trailing the Enterprise as it followed the Warship into....
...Into a squadron of Federation shuttles! ... With a second Starship!
If not for Data's remarkable sight, Darkness may not have noticed through his surprise the tiny flash in the corner of the screen.
A stab of fear cut into his gut as he silently ordered magnification.
The bright sparkling object grew to fill the viewer yet remained obscure. Again, Data's eyes proved invaluable when, between each blinding flare, the object revealed itself for a fraction of a second...
It was the warp core of the U.S.S Enterprise. Flashing like a beacon in his path. Within its shell; an internal reaction building to an unthinkable end.
Data's face displayed emotion like never before ... "No..."
*
His shuttles scattered in all directions and the Bird of Prey banked hard to avoid the core.
They covered little ground, however, before the warp core of the USS Enterprise finally went critical.
It BLEW with the power of a small star, releasing masses of energy in a terrifying explosion.
An explosion that rocked the foundations of the universe like a second Big Bang - sending a tide of ripples through the very sea of space.
--War Arena--
29
The USS Enterprise charged into the heart of the battlefield and cut open a great wound in the swarm of hostile craft - ripping through them like a dart. As if an angel, the flagship went gliding in past 2 Klingon Fighters to meet a dozen enemy shuttles head-on.
Shivering under heavy phaser-fire, the Starship pitched and fired her main banks - dorsal and ventral. A Federation Runabout felt the lash of the Enterprise and fell away briefly. A Vulcan freighter faired worse, as its shield failed and a nacelle punctured. Three craft dodged the incoming fire as another four were hit with little damage. Enterprise passed and let off a flurry of shots from her aft strip. The Runabout evaded one to be hit by the next, slowing it some.
Straightening out, the Starship headed for the far edge of the war zone.
*
The klaxons were now silent as the red lights still flashed, illuminating the faces of the bridge crew with a bloody hue.
"Status?" Picard called out dryly.
McPhee scanned her Ops panel. "Minimal damage."
"Shields holding," said Worf as he multitasked between phasers and communications. "...Incoming message from the gHin TAQ."
Picard spun forward. "On screen," he said, and observed the battlefield dissolve into the bridge of the Imperial Klingon Flagship. There, on the command thrown, sat a middle-aged heavy-set warrior.
"ENTERPRISE! YOU ARE EARLY!" he roared heartily, showing no trace of fear to them or his crew, as was expected from a warrior of such position. No weakness.
Picard lifted himself from his chair.
"CAPTAIN PICARD, I PRESUME! ...I AM DAJUQ - OVERSEER OF THIS ASSAULT FORCE AND CAPTAIN OF THE GHIN TAQ!" he boomed in introduction. "As this is a Starfleet operation, I and my crew offer our services to you."
"Our thanks, Captain DAJUQ," Picard noted with a brief pause. "...If you'll bear with us, ...we are about to change the nature of the playing field."
Captain DaJuQ looked a little perplexed, but nodded. "We will give you cover! But be warned, Enterprise, these PATAK will come at you on ALL sides until you are spun dizzy! Though I see you have a Klingon manning your guns!" he added approvingly. "A GOOD choice! ...Ambassador," he added with a tip of the head to Worf. With that, the Klingon's transmission abruptly ended and their path ahead returned.
Worf glanced back with a subtle smile to Martok who, rather amusingly for the chancellor, had been completely overlooked by DaJuQ.
Martok gave an unconvincing huff of indifference. No doubt his Klingon pride had been wounded.
The view before them now lay empty of vessels.
"Optimal distance achieved, Captain," announced McPhee.
"Lay in a circumnavigational course at zero elevation, Mr. Jutla."
"Done, sir," Jutla replied within seconds.
"Initiate."
*
Enterprise rolled sideways and spun about - a dozen small craft on her tail - until the mighty Klingon Warship slid across their path, joined by 2 Attack Fighters, and drew their fire.
The Enterprise arced freely in open space some kilometres from the main conflict and began circling the perimeter. The warp engines vented suddenly and gushed a dirty cloud of yellow plasma in their wake.
*
Picard had again sat down. "Modified torpedoes, Mr. Worf. ... Begin."
The Klingon targeted precisely - and hit the release.
*
As the Starship circled, creating an expanding cloud trail as it went, she began releasing torpedoes two by two; one fired high, one low. Each reaching a set distance before exploding in a yellow haze. Exposed to open space, the charged gas reacted just as it was expected - by expanding. Spreading out like grasping hands ensnaring their prey. Soon, a spherical barrier began to form. A wall - impenetrable to sensors or comm. signals.
An Arena.
They had almost come full-circle to their point of origin when their plan was discovered. A flood of enemy craft broke away from the gHin TAQ and made for the Enterprise at a rocketing pace.
Worf fired off 2 more torpedoes - and the shuttles went mad. The upper torpedo barely got underway before it was intercepted by a Federation cargo pod and exploded short of its mark. The 2nd torpedo proved too fast for the 1st kamikaze shuttle. But, with 10 more in line, it wasn't long before it connected with one.
*
"They're crazy," Riker scorned.
Worf stifled his own disdain. "They are attempting to create gaps in the field!"
"Do we have enough torpedoes to compensate?" asked the captain, himself stifling a potential rise of panic. Their entire operation hinged on the completion of this gas blockade.
Worf checked his station to verify how many of the plasma missiles remained. "Negative, Captain. We have only two modified torpedoes in reserve. If the enemy continue their strategy, we will fail to complete the barrier."
Picard gave it a split-second of thought. "We won't fail today. Mr. Jutla - bring us about."
Jutla locked on full forward thrusters at portside and full reverse thrusters at starboard, swinging the great ship around in a 24th century handbrake-turn.
"Worf - recalculate target-points," Picard continued, turning to McPhee. "Prepare two class-five probes for launch."
The Enterprise quaked again under fierce fire as she returned for a second pass of the gap.
Picard issued Worf and McPhee each with specific orders and then sat back, his finger playing tensely over his lips. ...A moment of silent prayer... "Now."
*
Enterprise launched 2 probes away.
Each and every enemy shuttle on her tail immediately made a dash for them without a thought or regard, determined and efficient in their aim to bring those missiles down. But the decoy-probes were followed a moment later by the final 2 genuine torpedoes on the correct headings. By the time the enemy realised their error... it was too late.
Not only because the missiles hit their marks, but because now the full wrath of the Federation flagship's phasers were directed right at them.
Shuttles parted like waves of the Red Sea before Moses as the Starship stabbed at them with 7.2 megawatt blasts of phased energy, while a squadron of Klingon Fighters joined the Mêlée.
*
Wolath, son of Unang, drove his spear-like Attack Fighter into the very hub of enemy shuttles. To his right, and set back a little in the cockpit, his son - Korg - hammered the weapons controls with his enormous digits.
3 more fighters followed them in - to be confronted by 2 Andorian Defenders, a Vulcan scout-ship, and 5 Starfleet shuttles.
They were tough odds... yet sensors showed more were coming.
Above them, in a relative way, hung the Enterprise as she stood her ground - lashing phaser blasts at the small swarm, and receiving some stinging attacks in return.
"Vaag to Emperor Wing," Wolath bellowed over his comm. as he cut across the nose of a Defender to beat its weapons-guiding system. "Execute Gowron manoeuvre."
With that, the 4 Fighters paired-off.
The Gowron manoeuvre was a rather devious tactic for Klingons - much like the late Gowron himself. But the odds were not in their favour this day, so even underhand tactics were honourable.
One of the Fighters drew into position behind the Vaag and followed it as Wolath led them through the enemy herd. As they went, Korg would fire on selected targets with his disruptors. This would draw the fire of said target... allowing the trailing Fighter to pass with a clean attack.
It worked well for a time - destroying the Vulcan Scout and 2 of the Starfleet craft - but the enemy were far more underhand than even Wolath expected...
Out the corner of his eye he caught sight of movement through the window port - something only metres away! And coming in fast!
A siren roared.
The Vaag threw back and quaked painfully as an Andorian Defender exploded against their hull.
Korg's station burst into sparks and shrapnel. Fire and noise filled the cabin. The Klingon snapped back and smashed into the metal deck.
"Son!" Woloth struggled to regain his seat in the sloped cockpit. His eyes were fixed on Korg - who lay inert where he landed. Until a warning horn sounded at his panel. The Klingon's eyes first turned to his sensor monitor... then to the window...
A second shuttle pounded into the Vaag head-on. Wolath saw showers of light - feeling himself weightless for an eternal instant before hearing the sound of his own body break onto the deck. Only blackness met him then. ... There came no Great Hall of Warriors.
*
On the Enterprise:
A purple candle trembled slightly in its mount under the shadow of a star-filled window. No flame yet burned at its untouched wick and no wind was present to shake it so.
Rupert Giles steadied himself as the Enterprise regained its equilibrium, and he continued to lay out a further 11 candles about his quarters until they formed a wide circle of 12.
Willow Rosenberg paced. She paced across the room and back again as she had for almost a quarter hour - mouthing words as she read from a PADD in her hands - trying to familiarise herself with the weighty spell she was about to leap into head-first. Well... soul-first.
And Buffy Summers - the eveready Slayer - sat on her ass for a change; prepping the spell ingredients in the central shrine at the heart of their own magical arena. She was just laying out the large clamshell to fill with sand as a flash caught her eye.
The shields outside Giles' window sparked suddenly and the room rocked with such violence that Buffy actually felt her knees leave the carpet.
Some of the candles tipped over onto the floor and a table light fell and smashed apart.
The quake subsided slowly and the gang, after a brief moment of panic, looked nervously to each other.
Without a word, Giles went about straightening the candles. Willow stepped back into her paces. And Buffy, after glancing ponderously out the window again, returned to work.
But something inside her said... This wasn't going to go well.
*
Wolath awoke violently to blind panic.
Death had come! ... Yet around him he saw the familiar rear wall of the Vaag cockpit.
He regained himself, realising that death had spared him to fight on. To avenge his son! He tried to bring himself up, but felt the bones in his leg turn against themselves. Wolath let out a roar and braced himself with an arm that proved weak and damaged. He fell back - sprawled out on the deck. Closing his eyes, and allowing the throbbing pains to subside, he considered how he might overcome his disabilities so that he may repay the enemy for the loss of Korg.
...But where was Korg?
Wolath turned his head from side to side but saw no corpse where one had been. It occurred to him that the second shunt could have propelled his son to the front of...
Wolath paused. He could hear...
...He could hear the sound of the helm controls initiating. Then came the distinct sense of motion. The Fighter was moving. Someone manned the helm!
He tilted his head back to see a flipped view of the cockpit controls. There sat the distinctive silhouette of his son.
"KORG!" He could barely contain himself. Wolath pushed himself up on his wounded arm. Following his right thigh down, he came to the shattered knee where the lower leg bent away on a surreal angle. He grimaced and let out a growl of impatience.
"SON!" he called forward, turning to view the back of Korg's head. "Hold her steady a little longer!" He saw on the wall his mounted bat'leth. "I will be there momentarily!"
Wolath rolled himself onto his good knee and grabbed at his bat'leth. It unhooked from the wall with a little coaxing and he made a walking cane of it - holding the near-grip in his right fist and planting the far point through the grilles of the deck plates. Raising himself up, he dragged his leg to the gunner station and dropped into the seat like a dead Targ into a dish.
"What is our status?" asked the seasoned warrior.
No answer came. His son was locked in 'Go'Dar' - a Klingon rage. Wolath examined his targeting display and noted a number of viable shots. When he attempted to fire on them, however, he found his console re-routed. He looked to Korg, whose attention was fixed forward - his burned hands passing over the controls.
"Do not try to do this alone, Son. Let us repay them together!" Wolath beseeched.
No answer. The Vaag looped as Korg manoeuvred into an attack posture. His father leant forward in his seat to witness the view from the window himself.
Enemy shuttles flitted by - occupied with other targets - and the view steadied when the bulk of the Enterprise filled their sight.
The Vaag closed in on the Starship's underbelly.
"What are you doing?!" Wolath pounded his weak fist into Korg's shoulder to force his attention.
And then Korg did turn.
Korg - with half his face gone - turned to his father with a deep hiss.
Wolath could not retain a shriek as he recoiled back into his chair. There, breath came quickly and his mind fell into disarray.
What was once Korg returned focus to the controls... and a ball of phased energy cannoned through space into the shields of the Enterprise.
When he saw the Starship swinging around at them and firing off phaser shots, Wolath was hit by a heavy dose of reality. His son was dead. The tall tales of an Army of the Dead were really true.
...And the Enterprise was going to destroy the Vaag.
The Klingon forced himself through pain and anger out of the seat and upright. He locked the bat'leth tip into the floor grid and stood over his son now, considering what his final act should be.
Beside Korg's head, his mek'leth rested in its wall-mount. Wolath took it. Held it in a shaking fist. Waited for uncertainty to pass. Brought it up until the tip hit the ceiling....
Then sliced it deep into Korg's shoulder - tearing through flesh until it met resistance and came to a bloody stop under the Klingon's right collarbone. Wolath teetered back with a near-gasp. Korg's head and neck were inches from being severed from the body.
A cold moment passed before Korg slumped into the controls.
The Vaag pitched sideways and went out of control. Wolath almost fell, but the sword held firm in the deck. He managed through pain to drag his son's body out of its seat and regain the ship quickly. What he found when he did, however, was dire.
The Enterprise hit him with another blast and he tried to evade. Noting that 2 Attack Fighters from his own wing were now closing in on him, Wolath attempted to contact them - only to find the comm. system fused.
He took his hands off the controls then and looked out the view port. He could now see with his own eyes the 2 Klingon Fighters approaching at speed. Wolath stood without using his sword and faced his doom grimly, yet anticipating his journey to Sto-Vo-Kor.
The Fighters came in - firing their disruptors wildly - shaking Wolath's world and filling it with sparks and the smell of burning machinery.
Behind them, The USS Enterprise dropped into sight and closed in on him.
But Wolath accepted his death proudly. "I die not before I have both avenged my son, and seen my enemy slain at my feet."
Korg spat suddenly at his heels and grabbed at his father's twisted limb.
Wolath gasped in shock and disappointment-
Then the Vaag exploded into dust.
Still, the Hall of Warriors did not meet him...
*
Wolath materialised to find himself in a transporter room surrounded by a group of Klingons led by the famous General Kuhl.
"Welcome to the Enterprise my fellow warrior!" Kuhl greeted him. "Quickly - tend to your wounds then return and join our boarding party!"
Wolath's heart lifted and he allowed the Starfleet medics to take him away. Soon he would be mended. Then he would deliver his vengeance!
*
Captain Picard stepped back from tactical. "Shields up. Damage report?"
McPhee examined Ops. "Some minor scarring to the hull on decks five and six."
"Our shields are at ninety-two percent, Captain," Worf noted. "The Klingon is being taken to sickbay."
"His condition?"
"Stable."
"What's the situation with the barrier, Mr. McPhee?"
The lieutenant scanned the cloud wall. "I'm still reading a small pocket of low ionisation," she reported. "But the gas is still expanding... it's just a matter of time now, sir."
"Then let's make the most of it," Riker urged.
Picard agreed. "Fire at will, Mr. Worf."
*
Near 30 hostile shuttles came swooping in on them in a tight formation firing phasers and plasma charges, and the Enterprise met them violently.
*
Picard watched the viewer with hands gripping tightly to his seat as the Starship rocked and trembled.
Klingon fighters darted around them, combating the overwhelming number of small ships; almost obscured by a constant barrage of weapon flashes.
Worf, even having transferred rear phasers to Martok's aft station, struggled to handle the sheer odds against them.
*
A former Sal Fusian science shuttle - manned by 3 demons all possessed of the will of Evil - evaded 2 energy blasts from the Imperial Klingon Fighter G'bah and cut across her bow, scraping her shields. She entered the inner defences around the Enterprise as the Starship fired a hastily aimed phaser beam. The shot pierced and evaporated the shuttles' shielding and ruptured a large wound in its hull. The vessel spiralled and hit the Enterprise' shields protecting her command module.
*
The bridge jerked for an instant, a standing crewman falling hard and heavy into the carpet. The viewscreen flickered, almost dissolved, then returned to full clarity as the impact subsided.
*
The demon shuttle, torn and broken, fell away into the void and vanished through the writhing mists of the gas cloud.
It was then that Picard made the wise choice to regroup their forces and hold out as a solid unit until such time as the barrier formed completely.
The Enterprise and the gHin TAQ came together at the heart of the forming arena, with 10 of the original 18 Klingon Attack Fighters still working for the powers of good.
The enemy were still strong, however, and many at almost 80 ships.
The two Starships drew into a huddle with the Fighters and protected each other. Soon they found themselves caught within a bubble of assailants - they, in turn, caught within a bubble of slowly expanding gas...
Right then, it all changed.
The remaining break in the wall of ionised gas finally sealed.
In that very instant, confusion spread through the Army of Darkness as Evil's link to his minions was severed.
The Klingons continued picking off targets until it became obvious the enemy were no longer able to fight. As the Klingons saw it, it didn't take a warrior to kill a toothless Targ.
And, so, the spherical arena grew still and quiet - but for the occasional kangarooing of a rival shuttle at the hands of a dazed demon.
One Klingon Fighter, manned by both dead and inanimate former warriors, drifted almost with purpose - locked into its last assigned course.
McPhee on the Enterprise clocked it at 400 metres and closing. With a swift and well-executed shot from Worf, the Fighter's engine system was phasered to a pulp. A last-minute tug from a tractor-beam sent it ambling slowly into empty space.
Silence came at last.
Almost painful in its stillness.
*
The Enterprise' command centre had become hushed and static with anticipation. It felt to all like the break in the storm.
"Now he'll have no choice but to enter the fight," Riker indicated, drawing the crew back into the room.
Captain Picard didn't take his eyes from the screen. "And when he does, we'll have him, Number One."
Riker flipped open the small terminal at his chair-side. "Scan the wall for any localised spatial distortions."
McPhee obliged.
"At the first sign, Ambassador," Picard said to Worf, "lock on with everything and fire."
"What about Data?" asked Counsellor Troi, after prising her bottom lip from between her teeth.
Picard closed his eyes a moment, pained. When they opened, his resolve was still present. "Our priority is to cripple his ship. Without knowing what other tactical improvements have been made to it... we shan't take any chance. My order stands."
Worf caught Troi's pleading look to him. The captain was correct, of course. But, for Deanna's sake, it wouldn't hurt to report any risks that may be present. "Captain, there is a chance we may destroy the J'ktah'rij," he said, referring to the Bird's title.
"Everything we've got, Mr. Worf."
"Aye." The tactical console chimed. "We are being hailed by the gHin TAQ."
"Open a channel."
Worf played a hand over the controls and gave Picard the signal.
"gHin TAQ, this is the Enterprise. Go ahead."
When DaJuQ's bold voice rang over the comm. channel, his confusion and near-impatience was apparent. In simple terms, he was asking Picard just what in the hell was happening. The gas sphere, the sudden standing-down of the enemy. It was all so bizarre. And it took some carefully chosen words from Picard to explain the situation without letting out too much of the 'supernatural' aspects.
Although DaJuQ was not left with a clear understanding, Picard did make it clear that he should keep up his guard and watch the enemy craft very closely. Anything could happen. And they had to be ready for it.
"There is a cloaked Bird of Prey out there, Captain," Picard explained. "And it is our task to find it... before it finds Earth."
"Aah!" DaJuQ roared. "A HUNT!" There came the sound of stretching hide as his body immediately drew upright in his seat. "This will be a GLORIOUS pursuit! gHin TAQ out!"
Picard blinked, and turned to share a beguiled look with his Number One.
"At least someone's having fun," noted Riker.
*
The USS Enterprise rolled forward. She drew close to the barrier and began to circle the enclosure, scanning thoroughly as she arced. The gas had formed a shell of ochre cloud infused with electrical fluctuations - sending sharp tendrils of colour darting through its mass. Long seconds passed that stretched to minutes in the hollow with not a stirring from the enemy. The ships of 'Data's' fleet caught within the walls of the gas arena floundered, halted, and drifted without order.
*
Martok viewed with tense, unwavering eyes the screen before him. He was seeing an advanced model of the gas wall as the Ops sensors were reading it. At every little dimple and fizz, he would go back and re-check - scanning again the size and nature of the distortions for telltale evidence of a cloaked ship.
Worf hung over tactical - himself tensed physically - preparing for the general's results.
*
Enterprise cruised steadily along the interior of the arena, with the gHin TAQ hovering at its centre. About her, a garrison of Imperial Fighters held themselves ready. Waiting. Watchful. Prepared for the inevitability of a sudden onslaught.
*
Worf's eyes were glaring down at the detailed readings from Martok's station as they were patched through to tactical. At intervals, just out of his own natural vigilance, he would allow a glance at the external sensor monitor. The first few times, he saw the same thing; disorientated shuttles drifting randomly about the battlefield like leaves in a gentle breeze. This would have remained his view had he not noted a type-9A Starfleet shuttle drifting out rather close to the Enterprise' underside. For now, as he zipped his eyes over to the sensor read-out, the very same shuttle seemed to be... drifting in the opposite direction. And, unlike leaves, these shuttles were not susceptible to the changing winds.
Worf gave up watching the barrier scans right then. Instead, he focused entirely on the shuttles. Like a hawk, he watched their every movement, every shift of axis, every rotation and course irregularity.
Before long, a knowing scowl that bore his gnarled teeth spread over his face. "Captain!"
*
In space, dead and demonic fingers triggered tiny thruster pulses, and shuttles began to steadily move...
*
On the Enterprise' bridge, Picard looked on intently at the viewscreen.
"They appear to be aiming for a loose, surrounding attack formation," Worf explained.
"That's subtle posturing for a herd of animals," Riker observed. His meaning was quite clear - the damn shuttles were back under control! Which meant...
"He's here," Picard stated.
"Should I send warning to Captain DaJuQ?" Worf asked.
"No, Mr. Worf," answered Picard. "Let's not give ourselves away just yet. Our comm. may be monitored. Scan for that distortion, now that we know there is one out there. Find him before he clears the wall."
*
The Enterprise pushed up to the cloud-face as close as Jutla dared to take her and picked up pace to cover ground.
*
Sensor information flashed across Martok's screen in a blur. His elbows on the workstation, hands rolled into fists at his temples, he struggled to see any clear data. He noted the irony in that as the only one capable of reading anything at such a rate was Data himself.
Every thirty seconds or so the screen would stop - fixed on a pocket of space within the barrier with irregularly low ion disturbance - yet, every time on closer inspection, with a more focused scan, it would reveal SOME ionisation within.
This boiled Martok's blood each time.
It was a risk, but... he HAD to narrow this down.
The chancellor quickly took into account the size and shape of a cloak generated by a Bird of Prey of the model they sought. He programmed this into the computer with the added parameter that such a pocket must exhibit a crisp, clearly defined edge and shape. He had no idea if it made the search impossible - given the extremely narrow search field he was inputting - but he had grown far too impatient and time was out. Martok punched the board, sending out a wide-beam scan. If any results came back from this narrow search, he KNEW one would HAVE to be that ship.
"La Forge to bridge."
Picard prayed for no problems. "Report."
"Some good news, Captain. I've modified the forward phaser emitter to release inverse-tachyon particles. If he's using a tachyon deflector, these babies should adhere to his cloak like they're steel filings on a magnet."
Picard gave a sigh of satisfaction. "Thank you, Geordi."
Martok's station gave off an alert tone and the screen lit up with a result. Just ONE!
Zero percent ions... moving slowly through the gas at constant speed...
"Got it!" The chancellor wheeled around to tactical. "Zero-eight-seven mark two-seven-one! - NOW!"
Worf already had it.
*
Enterprise released a sudden beam of phased energy into the far side if the barrier wall.
The shot hit the target precisely, dispersing a shower of inverse-tachyons, and the hidden Bird's cloaking field lit up like a massive disco ball. The now clearly visible target moved swiftly into the war arena and an army of shuttles returned to life fully - meeting the wrath of the Klingon Warship.
*
Picard held onto his chair and edged forward. "Fire!"
*
The Enterprise unloaded all barrels - sending a tirade of photon torpedoes coursing across the void while phasers stabbed out with wild purpose.
*
Within the dark of the Bird's bridge, the possessed Commander Data reeled as sparks signalled each impact of fire and rattled his vessel madly.
"Damn it! Shut off that tachyon diffuser! And switch to secondary cloak NOW!" He slipped across to the forward consoles and leaned toward the viewer - displaying the full form of the attacking Starship. "Damn you, Data... why the hell didn't you see that one coming? Alter course and position! ...Time to show these Godless Starfleet infidels the power I wield!"
*
Worf fired two more photons into the inverse-tachyon field - only to see them travel through and beyond - hitting nothing.
"We've lost him," the Klingon admitted hesitantly.
"Somehow he managed to shed the inverse-tachyons," Riker observed from the terminal beside his seat.
Picard's teeth gritted together and the arm of his command chair felt the fierceness of his grip.
Riker tried to ease his captain's tension - though he felt his words held little hope: "He can't return fire without dropping that cloak. Worst-case scenario; we have to defeat his army of shuttles before he shows himself."
Picard's brow dropped. "There are possibilities far worse, Number One."
Riker puzzled.
"They all depend on what his other weapon is."
Of course. Riker had almost forgotten. The enemy didn't just escape Traders' World with a tachyon diffuser. They had something else in their arsenal. With any luck... it wouldn't turn out to be anything too sinister.
*
The great disruptor turrets of the gHin TAQ spun and locked - her cannons firing ceaselessly at the cloud of enemy vessels around her. Some were brave enough to drop in close to her shields and attempt to take out her turrets. Each time they were met fiercely by a Klingon Fighter.
On the command deck, Captain DaJuQ sat upon his throne, barely feeling the impact of enemy weapons. He called to his tactical officer: "How many of our Fighters are still operational?"
The balding tactician checked his monitor. "Eight still reporting in!"
"How many of those are protecting this ship?"
"Three, Captain."
A slight tremble passed under them followed by a deep and hollow rumble.
"Turret five has been disabled!"
"Number of turret attacks is increasing, Captain!" weapons officer Gruun added.
DaJuQ growled under his breath. "Call in all remaining shuttles to our perimeter! Now!"
*
Worf kept his eyes fixed firmly on his tactical display; looking for any sign of that ship. Even when he noted and reported three shuttles that had moved in on their position, he kept a lookout. After all, what better way was there to distract your enemy than by sending in an attack from another angle?
Three Sal Fusian Runners drove in towards the Enterprise from the starboard side and fired up their weapons systems.
Worf targeted the closest attacker, noting a weakness in its shields. He blasted it only twice with phaser fire and the small ship tore apart. The next two came in together and were not so weak. They fired wildly at the Starship as they closed in.
Worf made the best lock he could on one and shot out a phaser beam. The target, rather sharply, side-slipped to avoid - moving dangerously near to its sister ship.
This Worf saw as an opportunity. He fired again and again - the 1st Runner dodged each phaser blast until it almost sideswiped the 2nd. Both shuttles were forced off-course, breaking their attack.
The ambassador took complete advantage - dispatching them with a bombardment of phaser fire. The twin Runners shattered into debris.
The torpedoes he was saving for the Bird.
There came the shrill tone of a tactical alert warning.
In the moment it had taken Worf to blink, it happened.
McPhee screamed at Ops: "Incoming!"
Worf grabbed onto his console. "Brace for impact!"
A great BOOM rocked the ship.
People slammed into their workstations.
A second hit brought a thundering earthquake down on them - throwing McPhee from her seat.
Jutla initiated evasive measures.
*
Enterprise returned multiple fire...
...And hit nothing.
*
The room soon stabilised. Riker was about to call for medics when McPhee dragged herself up from the deck. "I'm fine," she guessed, checking herself over and locating a soreness in her elbow. "Just bruised." She took back her post.
"He's firing through the cloak!" Worf called out.
Captain Picard's lips stiffened.
"At least now we know what he's got," noted Riker.
Mcphee reported: "Decks ten through thirteen have lost power in sections three and four. Sickbay reports multiple casualties."
"Shields down to eighty-four percent," Worf added. "Phaser power reduced by a quarter."
"Enemy damage, Mr. Worf?"
His lips tightened. "Negative impact." He almost said 'I missed'.
"I don't understand it," Troi challenged. "How can he have obtained technology this advanced at a place like the Bazari Territory?"
Geordi's voice poured over the open comm: "Maybe it's not so advanced," he offered. "I can think of a risky and unstable way or two it could be achieved. ...The torpedoes could be programmed to punch a hole through the cloaking field - but that runs the risk of destabilising the field and destroying the ship completely. Or... if he had a double-layered cloak... he could simply fire, raise a second cloak closer to the hull, and drop the primary... allowing the weapon to continue on course. Either way... it doesn't help us. Unless he blows himself up."
Picard did not expect such luck.
*
Data slammed back into his command seat. "Bring the tachyon deflector back online. I doubt they'll be firing anymore of those nasty little inverse-tachyons at us. Something tells me it was one of La Forge's last-minute tactics." Completely in a realm of his own, he chuckled away to himself. "Well done, Geordi. But the final surprise will be mine to deliver."
*
"Mr. Worf - report."
"No sign, Captain. His cloak is flawless."
Picard sighed and spoke into the comm: "Geordi, can you give us more inverse-tachyon particles?"
"I only had time to generate enough for that first shot, Captain. Right now we're just trying to hold her together down here."
It looked like they'd have to fire in the dark and hope for a lucky shot or two.
That was until McPhee turned in her seat and said the fateful words: "I think we're out of time, sir. The cloud is dispersing."
He tried not to let his disappointment show. "How long?"
"Within minutes."
*
Swooping in, a score of shuttles attacked them in tightly organised units.
It was a sweeping and relentless assault on all sides. Just as DaJuQ had warned.
*
"Shields at eighty percent!" Worf roared as the ship rocked.
((( BOOM )))
"Seventy-six percent."
((( BOOM )))
"Sixty-eight percent."
"Starboard shields weakening on decks sixteen, seventeen and eighteen; sections five to nine," called McPhee.
*
A torpedo materialised in free space, sailing headlong through the void, and crashed into Enterprise' Stardrive section.
*
Geordi pitched over into the system display table as sparks fired from terminals on all sides of engineering. Crewmembers dropped and dived for cover. The forcefields guarding their warp core stressed and warnings flared. Geordi held onto the display unit and, before he could assess its readings, it went out like a dead lamp.
Jutla attempted manoeuvres to protect the engineering levels but the invisible Bird matched his every step and still managed to avoid return-fire.
Torpedo followed torpedo until the damage was such it punched a hole right through their shields.
An entire conduit fired its contents across main engineering like a mass of writhing, steaming internal organs.
Disembodied voices called through the rising smoke cloud:
"ODN hardline stability compromised!"
"Primary systems failing!"
"Initiate secondary power network!" La Forge yelled back as he tried to get his systems table up and running again.
The Enterprise lurched in every direction at once.
Over the comm, a scream of imminent warning came from Lab Technician Rhannon Hallar - quickly cut off by an explosion of static.
"The back-up processor is gone, Commander!" Wells reported.
Worse than that... the processor...and probably the whole science lab with it...
La Forge crawled up from inside the display table as it flickered back to life. "Switching to auxiliary systems."
He was joined by Benson. "Emergency power only. Forcefields down, containment field still holding."
"Divert all power available to warp containment. Keep that core together!"
*
Dozens of small ships criss-crossed around them, giving Worf an almost impossible counter-offensive.
Enterprise spun around like an aircraft in a nose-dive to avoid the enemy attack on the engineering hull; firing phasers from all banks; destroying a few shuttles, crippling some. Most of the shots dispersing without a hit.
*
On Picard's command terminal, gaps were clearly beginning to show in the arena wall. They were out of time and overwhelmed. Picard gave in to the inevitable and ordered the fall-back plan.
The channel to engineering was still open. "It's time, Geordi."
"Understood," he replied. "I'll be right up when I'm done here."
*
The USS Enterprise twisted about onto the correct heading and rolled away from the fight.
The Klingons, under orders, followed the Federation Starship and passed quickly through the mist and out of the war zone.
Darkness scoffed at their cowardice. He pitied them, but not enough to give them a second of relief. He moved his army after them, still many at 50 shuttles, and sneered every metre of the way. He knew Picard had something up his sleeve. Probably acting more wounded than he seemed. Likely would be poised ready for him on the other side. No matter. His fate was already decided. His and that of the universe as a whole. Rhamhal of the Pestihl'nhar was an invisible enemy with enough drive and all the torpedoes he needed to do the job.
*
Geordi cleared his people from engineering and set the final wheels in motion down there before heading for the bridge.
*
There was a moment of anticipation as the Bird of Prey drifted through the haze to meet them.
*
When his vessel emerged through the cloud, Data observed his viewer through narrow eyes. The yellow haze thinned away to reveal Klingon Fighters trailing the Enterprise as it followed the Warship into....
...Into a squadron of Federation shuttles! ... With a second Starship!
If not for Data's remarkable sight, Darkness may not have noticed through his surprise the tiny flash in the corner of the screen.
A stab of fear cut into his gut as he silently ordered magnification.
The bright sparkling object grew to fill the viewer yet remained obscure. Again, Data's eyes proved invaluable when, between each blinding flare, the object revealed itself for a fraction of a second...
It was the warp core of the U.S.S Enterprise. Flashing like a beacon in his path. Within its shell; an internal reaction building to an unthinkable end.
Data's face displayed emotion like never before ... "No..."
*
His shuttles scattered in all directions and the Bird of Prey banked hard to avoid the core.
They covered little ground, however, before the warp core of the USS Enterprise finally went critical.
It BLEW with the power of a small star, releasing masses of energy in a terrifying explosion.
An explosion that rocked the foundations of the universe like a second Big Bang - sending a tide of ripples through the very sea of space.
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