Read Online Star Trek: ALL - Seven Deadly Sins by Dayton Ward - Free Book Online
Authors: Dayton Ward
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registry number, NCC-1764, rendered in Federation Standard text.
“Proximity warning,” Nilona called over his shoulder, pointing to an alarm indicator mounted above the viewer. It had begun to flare fiery crimson an instant before a dull tone droned from the intercom system. The helm officer returned his attention to the task of guiding the ship through the asteroids, a task now compounded by the need to avoid a collision with the enemy vessel. “Our distance is less than five ship lengths,” he added, his tone laced with caution. “Any closer and we risk making contact with their deflector shields.”
Toqel nodded, feeling as though she could reach through the screen and brush the hull of the other ship with her fingers. “Maintain course and speed.” Glancing around the bridge, she saw the worry on the faces of her crew, and even clouding the stoic countenances of Mortagh and the other Klingons assigned to assist her people. This was probably as close as any of them had ever been to a Starfleet ship. On any other occasion, this would be an unparalleled opportunity to subject the vessel to intensive sensor scans and other means of gatheringdata on its construction and capabilities. Despite her earlier chastising of Mortagh regarding the need for stealth, Toqel privately admitted a desire to unleash the
Kretoq
’s weapons. At this distance, the battle cruiser would still inflict massive damage even with the enemy vessel’s defensive shields activated.
No,
she reminded herself.
This is not the time.
Another moment passed, and then the ship moved beyond the screen’s frame, leaving nothing but a scattered collection of asteroids and open space.
“Hold position,” Toqel ordered. “Put it on-screen.” On the viewer, the Starfleet vessel now was moving away from the
Kretoq.
“Status?”
“They appear not to have detected us,” Rezek replied, sounding both relieved and impressed. “The cloak is functioning perfectly.”
Toqel smiled in approval. “Well, Rezek, as it seems we will survive the day, please pass along my compliments to Doctor Vaniri and his team.”
A collective murmur of satisfaction circled around the bridge, and Toqel did nothing to quell the newfound confidence. Even Mortagh and his fellow Klingons seemed duly awed by what they had just witnessed. Listening to the reactions taking place around her, Toqel sat in silence, content and yet disheartened to a small degree as she considered what had taken place here.
I am sorry, Sarith,
thinking as she did each day of her late daughter,
that we could not have accomplished this sooner.
“Maintain course until we’re out of the field,” she ordered, setting aside the sobering thoughts. “Then, set a course for Klingon space and engage at maximum warp.” Sensing a presence near her right side, she turned to see Mortagh standing there, and noted that the liaison maintained his dismissive attitude as he once more glared at her.
“An effective toy you have devised, Romulan,” he said, his arrogance and bluster firmly in place, the heel of his left hand resting atop the pommel of the dagger suspended from the belt at his waist. “And what will you do with it? Attack your enemies, or cower from them?”
Offering a wan smile before returning her attention to the viewer, Toqel replied, “Consider that knife with which you feel the need to assure yourself. In the hand of a savage, a blade can do little but kill, but when wielded by a gifted surgeon, it might save a life. As your knife is a tool,so too is the cloaking field. It can save lives, or be used to take them. The difference, Klingon, is the intention behind its use.”
Mortagh loosed a snort of derision before turning and leaving her. Once more alone with her thoughts, she considered the report she soon would file with her superiors. The cloaking field was ready for a more stringent series of tests: trials in which the risks were far greater and accompanied by rewards of equal
“Proximity warning,” Nilona called over his shoulder, pointing to an alarm indicator mounted above the viewer. It had begun to flare fiery crimson an instant before a dull tone droned from the intercom system. The helm officer returned his attention to the task of guiding the ship through the asteroids, a task now compounded by the need to avoid a collision with the enemy vessel. “Our distance is less than five ship lengths,” he added, his tone laced with caution. “Any closer and we risk making contact with their deflector shields.”
Toqel nodded, feeling as though she could reach through the screen and brush the hull of the other ship with her fingers. “Maintain course and speed.” Glancing around the bridge, she saw the worry on the faces of her crew, and even clouding the stoic countenances of Mortagh and the other Klingons assigned to assist her people. This was probably as close as any of them had ever been to a Starfleet ship. On any other occasion, this would be an unparalleled opportunity to subject the vessel to intensive sensor scans and other means of gatheringdata on its construction and capabilities. Despite her earlier chastising of Mortagh regarding the need for stealth, Toqel privately admitted a desire to unleash the
Kretoq
’s weapons. At this distance, the battle cruiser would still inflict massive damage even with the enemy vessel’s defensive shields activated.
No,
she reminded herself.
This is not the time.
Another moment passed, and then the ship moved beyond the screen’s frame, leaving nothing but a scattered collection of asteroids and open space.
“Hold position,” Toqel ordered. “Put it on-screen.” On the viewer, the Starfleet vessel now was moving away from the
Kretoq.
“Status?”
“They appear not to have detected us,” Rezek replied, sounding both relieved and impressed. “The cloak is functioning perfectly.”
Toqel smiled in approval. “Well, Rezek, as it seems we will survive the day, please pass along my compliments to Doctor Vaniri and his team.”
A collective murmur of satisfaction circled around the bridge, and Toqel did nothing to quell the newfound confidence. Even Mortagh and his fellow Klingons seemed duly awed by what they had just witnessed. Listening to the reactions taking place around her, Toqel sat in silence, content and yet disheartened to a small degree as she considered what had taken place here.
I am sorry, Sarith,
thinking as she did each day of her late daughter,
that we could not have accomplished this sooner.
“Maintain course until we’re out of the field,” she ordered, setting aside the sobering thoughts. “Then, set a course for Klingon space and engage at maximum warp.” Sensing a presence near her right side, she turned to see Mortagh standing there, and noted that the liaison maintained his dismissive attitude as he once more glared at her.
“An effective toy you have devised, Romulan,” he said, his arrogance and bluster firmly in place, the heel of his left hand resting atop the pommel of the dagger suspended from the belt at his waist. “And what will you do with it? Attack your enemies, or cower from them?”
Offering a wan smile before returning her attention to the viewer, Toqel replied, “Consider that knife with which you feel the need to assure yourself. In the hand of a savage, a blade can do little but kill, but when wielded by a gifted surgeon, it might save a life. As your knife is a tool,so too is the cloaking field. It can save lives, or be used to take them. The difference, Klingon, is the intention behind its use.”
Mortagh loosed a snort of derision before turning and leaving her. Once more alone with her thoughts, she considered the report she soon would file with her superiors. The cloaking field was ready for a more stringent series of tests: trials in which the risks were far greater and accompanied by rewards of equal
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