The bridge cheered with raised fists as they enjoyed the view of the bright center of the solar system passing into the upper-left corner of the screen as a smaller dot appeared in the upper-right hand corner of the screen. The dot gradually became larger.
"I'm showing the Odyssey holding its course at our four o'clock. The convoy is maintaining its course at our six o'clock!" Aaen said. Aaen noticed his screen flashed four times. His smile disappeared, he quickly read the information on his screen, and then he turned to look over his left shoulder at the first officer. The first officer looked back at him. Aaen gestured for him to come to his station. Aaen pointed out the reading on his screen. The first officer's face soon lost expression.
"Oh, crap." he mumbled.
"What's wrong?" the captain asked, lowering his hands, panning between Aaen's screen and the first officer.
The first officer looked back at the captain with a worried look. "Bad just went to worse."
"Whaddo you mean?" the captain asked.
The first officer looked at Aaen. "Aaen?"
Aaen looked at the captain and breathed heavily as he said, "Sir, the USSC Yorktown's engines just stopped. They're adrift. According to sensors, they have taken a direct hit from a smaller rock to their port-side warp nacelle. Sensors didn't detect the rock. The rock was about the size of a type-two shuttle, moving at near-warp speed on a rogue trajectory. I'm detecting main power loss on the Yorktown. The Yorktown's escape pod bays are depressurizing."
They're abandoning ship. Their warp core must have been somehow irreparably damaged from the asteroid impact, Aaen reasoned, and knew the rest of the crew must have reasoned the same. They're probably losing antimatter containment.
A subtle alarm echoed through the bridge. The printer activated, dispensing a document into the tray. The center communications officer picked up the document, quickly scanned it, and then rushed it to the captain with an alarmed look. "We just received this printed message from the Yorktown, sir."
"Captain! We are receiving an automated distress call from the Yorktown!" the captain rubbed the dripping sweat from his forehead. "The asteroid impact damaged their warp core. They can't stabilize the matter-antimatter reaction chamber. Their core is going to breach in three minutes. Their abandoning ship!"
The first officer looked at the left communications officer, "How big was the Yorktown?"
"They were going to take a hundred people, sir!"
The first officer dropped his head; his face indicated frustration.
"Sir, by my calculations, the convoy no longer has enough room to take the entire population—even with the Yorktown, we are in room deficit for over a thousand people!" said the left communications cadet.
The captain looked at the first officer, "What should we do?"
"I see only two options: one, we take only the people we have room for. . . or, we abandon the rescue eff—"
"Sir, there's another alternative!" Aaen blurted. The bridge focused on him like a spotlight.
The first officer looked at him wide-eyed, "What?"
"Sir, sensors show the Roterans near that rogue black hole. I'm detecting many D'Deridex class warbirds within sensor range of the black hole. Maybe they would be willing to lend us a few ships to take on the rest of the people."
"Are you—?"
"Sir, that planet won't withstand another pass through that debris field, and we don't have time to wait for backup or reinforcements from the rest of the fleet, which makes the Roterans a possible de-facto asset, as it were."
The Ambassador stood up then stepped forward to the edge of the command platform. "Captain, I agree with Aaen." she turned to face the captain. "Captain, with your permission, I can try talking to the Roterans. Maybe I can negotiate with them to the point of cooperating with us."
The captain sat down, his arms trembling. "Fine. Do it."
The Ambassador stepped down from the command platform and then rushed to the left communications officer. "Open a channel to the Roterans. Use a Roteran priority frequency. Hurry!"
The planet was the size of a baseball on the view screen. Their relative position to the solar system's sun and the planet was indicated on the tactical screen. Aaen looked the tactical screen. The debris field was mere minutes away, he estimated.
The left communication officer handed the Ambassador a small handset equipped with a speaker and microphone. She closed her eyes then took a deep breath before placing the speaker firmly against her left ear.
Five seconds later. . . "This is the Ambassador aboard the Federation starship USSC Voyager. We have contacted you to request your assistance with a matter of extreme urgency." she paused. "The third planet in the solar system is going to enter the debris field. Our fleet doesn't have enough ships to safely rescue the planet's population and then ferry them back to Federation space. We request you send a small fleet to assist in this rescue effort." . . . "Yes," she replied, covering the microphone as she turned to face the captain.
"Captain! The Roterans want to know what we will give them if they are willing to help us! What should I tell them?"
The first officer looked up at the captain—the captain he shrugged his shoulders. The first officer turned to the Ambassador. "Supplies."
She relayed the offer; she turned back.
"What kind of supplies?"
"Fuel, engineering equipment, food. . ."
Again she relayed the offer and then paused.
"They said they've got all of those things, and they don't want our food. They're threatening to hang up! What else do we have?"
The first officer looked at Aaen. He looked back with a straight face. "Ask them what they want."
"What do they want?"
She relayed the question, then dropped her head.
The Ambassador gasped, "Slaves."
"That's unacceptable!" the first officer snapped.
She relayed the response. She dropped her head, returning the handset. "They hung up."
"first officer!" Aaen said.
"What!"
Aaen gestured him to come to his station. He complied.
"I know this sounds outrageous considering who we're dealing with, but we can always try to negotiate for the safe return of the people the Roterans rescue after the rescue operation is finished. The Roterans may not want to negotiate, but they wouldn't have enough time to enslave them until after they've rescued them and only after the Roterans fleet is safely out of the solar system. Even after that, they are still days away from Romulus, which means we will have time to save the people they would rescue from captivity."
The first officer gasped.
"Sir. We are out of time."
"Call the Roterans back." the first officer said.
The Ambassador was handed the handset back, and the communication line was reestablished.
"This is the Ambassador of the USSC Voyager. We have reconsidered your offer in exchange for your assistance in helping us rescue the people on the third planet." Aaen noticed the Ambassador grin, and then the handset was replaced. "SIR!" she returned to her seat and looked at the captain. "The Roterans are sending five of their ships from their fleet assigned to study the black hole to help us rescue the people on the planet."
The bridge filled with gasps of stress relief. We might just get through this mission, Aaen thought.
"Helm, slow to one-quarter impulse. Use maneuvering thrusters to enter into a standard orbit." the first officer said.
"Yes, sir!"
"Captain! Detecting Roteran ships entering the area! Counting five, Doriden-class warbirds!" Aaen said.
"Yellow alert." the bridge lights changed color. "On screen!" the first officer said.
The main view screen showed images of show five green, aerodynamically-elongated ovals with seeming glaring glowing faces quickly filling the screen.
"The Roterans are moving into the area at high impulse! ETA: two minutes. Sensors show they're on course to take a position on the opposite side of the planet relative to our position."
"Heh! They don't want to be any closer to us as they have to." the first officer said with a subtle chuckle.
"The important thing is that everyone on the planet will be okay, now." the captain said.
"Sir!" Aaen said.
"What?" the first officer replied.
"Detecting the debris field! It's gonna be raining much larger and harder rocks than we initially anticipated in one minute, thirty seconds. I recommend we start transporting people aboard!" Aaen said.
"Right." said the first officer. "Long-range communications, send a message to Spacefleet Command. Tell them the Yorktown needs them to send a rescue—"
BANG—BOOM
The lights suddenly briefly flashed sharply and flickered as the deck plating rattled. The hulk rolled sharply to port for several seconds. The crew leaned in the opposite direction to stay upright.
"Report!" said the first officer.
"Direct hit to aft shields!" said the tactical officer.
"It's the brunt of the debris field!" Aaen said.
"I thought you said it was a minute and a half away!" said the first officer.
"The debris field is" BANG; the lights flickered sporadically, "three-times wider and longer than originally estimated and five times as dense!" Aaen said.
"That last rock was huge! I'm reading a twenty-two percent energy drain in the aft shields!" said tactical. "The rock shattered against the shields." One tough ship, Aaen thought. She is a galaxy class, after all.
"And there are a lot more asteroids heading this way," Aaen turned to the first officer—"many of them are going to be a lot bigger, and much denser than that one was, according to new sensor data, sir."
The first officer looked at the communications stations. "Tell the convoy to break formation and start beaming up the people from the planet. Give the 'go-ahead' to the Odyssey to break formation and start relay-transporting the as much of the population to our convoy as possible."
The Cadet nodded.
"Sir!" said Aaen, pointing at the main view screen.
The captain, first officer, and Ambassador faced forward, they gazed at the image, watching as a dense, rocky mist soared at the convoy.
"RED ALERT!" the first officer said. "Tactical, standby particle cannons, arm photon torpedoes, load all launchers!" He looked right to the cadet at the end of the right wing row, "Transporter control: start beaming people from the planet up. Short-range communications: signal the Odyssey to engage and destroy asteroid targets at will!"
Aaen glanced to his left at the spiral staircase–the Fereni was walking up the staircase with the deputy following. The deputy had her sidearm trained on the Fereni. Aaen gave the Fereni an ugly look as the deputy followed the Fereni across the bridge to the far corner, and then down the far staircase. The deputy returned to her station five seconds later. She turned to the command platform. "Captain, the intruder is in the brig."
The captain nodded.
"Detecting three Roteran ships entering standard orbit of the planet. Detecting Roteran teleporters activating!" said the Cadet to Aaen's right.
"The debris field is getting closer! We're going to be surrounded by asteroids at least twice the size of Voyager, sir!" Aaen said.
"Tactical: your targets are the asteroids. Lock all weapons on targets—Fire-at-will!" the captain commanded.
*****
Steve Hale of Portland, OR told Jordan Foutin,
"You are the next Tom Clancy. You really are a gifted writer."
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