Part 8 (1/2)

It was Jarvis who demanded, ”Well-what's wrong with it?”

Bosinney gulped, but held his ground. ”It's the wrong power level-too low for this connection.”

”That would just mean it would blow out and have to be reset,” said Jarvis.

”But on this voyage,” said Dare, ”the Weapons Room staff have changed almost daily.”

”That's right!” said Yar. ”I was scheduled to two watches here, then on to auxiliary power.”

”How often would that breaker go out?” Jarvis asked.

”Each time there was an overload,” Bosinney replied. ”It'll be in the log-” He went to the computer terminal, calling up charts and graphs that flicked by too fast for Yar to make sense of what was not her field.

”On the average,” said Bosinney, ”the breaker was reset every two point six days. Actually, it formed a random pattern ranging from zero point eight to five point four. And here,” he indicated a low point following a spike on one of the graphs with one hand, and the Weapons Room Log entries with the other, ”where it blew twice in one day, it was not while the same person was on duty.”

”But how could a power loss every couple of days damage so many weapons?” Yar asked. ”They're all on backup circuits.”

”I think I know,” said Bosinney, and began calling up more graphs. ”Yes-that's it. Power fluctuations decreased the life of the storage batteries. They were partly drained until someone noticed and reset the breaker, but never fully drained and then recharged. Once or twice wouldn't hurt, but this pattern of a small drain followed by recharge occurred repeatedly. Finally it damaged the batteries, and they allowed the booster handles to discharge.”

”Replace those damaged batteries,” said Captain Jarvis. ”Mr. Adin, how long will it take to recharge the booster handles?”

”Not more than-”

He was interrupted when warning lights began to flash.

The intercom clicked on. ”Yellow alert. Unidentified vessel approaching-does not respond to hailing frequencies. Captain to the bridge, please. Yellow alert!” The voice was young and female, high-pitched with tension.

Darryl Adin and Enid Jarvis, experienced line officers, looked at one another for one moment. Dare's frown was ominous. ”I do not believe in coincidence. Advise systems checks of all weaponry.”

Jarvis went to the intercom. ”Jarvis here. Go to red alert, s.h.i.+elds up. Run check of all weapons systems. I'm on my way.”

Before the Weapons Room door opened at the Captain's approach, the klaxon began sounding, and the flas.h.i.+ng lights changed to red. The voice on the s.h.i.+p's intercom shook now, but sent out the message: ”Red alert. All hands to battle stations. This is not a drill. Red alert.”

Then Dare was at the intercom. ”Security personnel to Weapons Room.” He turned to Yar. ”Ensign-take the Security post on the bridge. I must decide who gets what weapons we have operational. Who's up there now?”

Yar glanced at the posted roster. ”Henderson.”

Dare handed her two phasers. ”He's not our best shot, but he's tough and he doesn't panic. Keep him with you. You can always hide behind him, come to that.”

”Dare-you can't think there's any danger of being boarded!” Yar exclaimed.

”We must prepare for any eventuality. You have your orders, Ensign.”

What happened in the next hour would always have for Tasha Yar the quality of nightmare, far more so than the induced illusion of the Priam IV test. The Starbound was a small training vessel, not a battles.h.i.+p. Even though Dare's suspicions proved unfounded, and the external weapons worked perfectly, Starbound's armament was intended as a deterrent only for such slight dangers as were occasionally met within Federation s.p.a.ce. Despite a generation of peace and plenty, political or religious disputes still occasionally erupted into war or terrorism-although Starbound's itinerary kept her well away from disputed territories.

Then there were the smugglers of contraband-forbid something on one planet, and someone would bring it in from another. ”Free traders,” of course, could be found anywhere, but as they used very small, very fast s.h.i.+ps, they could not carry armament to attack a Starfleet vessel, even a small training s.h.i.+p.

So, there ought to be nothing in this area of s.p.a.ce hostile to the Starbound. When they had loaded the dilithium a month ago, Starfleet Security had a.s.sured them that no one could even know about their precious cargo. But what, then, was a deep-s.p.a.ce vessel doing on an intercept course with them at warp speed, refusing to answer their requests for identification?

When Jarvis and Yar reached the bridge, the young crew were already nervous. Jarvis took the central chair, to the obvious relief of the trainee holding the position. Yar went to the Security post. Jack Henderson stepped back gladly to give her room to study the board, saying, ”D'you think we should call for Mr. Adin?”

”He's busy in the Weapons Room,” Yar replied. ”Here-I brought yours.”

He stared at it. ”He thinks we might need-?”

”Be prepared,” Yar replied. The board before her showed the identification request broadcast to the oncoming vessel on all frequencies, translator circuits on so that it would be picked up in virtually any language. ”No response on any frequency, Captain,” she reported.

On another screen, sensor readings of the oncoming vessel were displayed in three dimensions, detail increasing as the distance between them decreased.

”Their communications may be out,” Jarvis said calmly. ”Helm, change course to zero zero seven, mark six.”

”Course locked in.”

”Oncoming vessel has changed course to compensate,” Yar reported as the information came up on her screens. ”Still on intercept course.”

”Can you identify?” the Captain asked.

”No ident.i.ty beacon,” Yar replied. ”Shape indicates a standard deep-s.p.a.ce vehicle, approximately three times the size of Starbound. No visible characteristics identify origin. Ms. Sethan,” she said to the tiny Hemanite Science Officer, ”can you get life-form readings?”

”Numerous life forms,” Sethan reported. ”At this distance the instruments cannot yet distinguish-”

”They're firing at us!”

The shout came from the helmsman.

”s.h.i.+elds up,” said Captain Jarvis. ”Arm photon torpedoes. Send out a distress call to any Starfleet vessel within range: Training s.h.i.+p Starbound under attack from unidentified vessel.”

Yar got out ”Message sent,” just before the first shot hit them.

The s.h.i.+p rocked with the blow, but the s.h.i.+elds held-for three volleys.

Starbound fired back, but its torpedoes spent themselves futilely against the attacker's s.h.i.+elds.

”Captain,” Yar reported, ”they're jamming subs.p.a.ce radio!”

”Just keep sending the message, Ensign,” Jarvis said calmly.

Yar left the signal on automatic. ”Front starboard s.h.i.+eld thirty-five percent functional,” she advised.

”Change course,” ordered the Captain. ”One zero three mark seventeen, warp three. Let's see if we can outrun them.”

The maneuver placed the undamaged aft s.h.i.+elds between the Starbound and her attacker. However, the enemy s.h.i.+p pursued, easily matching their speed through warp four ... five ... five point eight- ”Warp engine overload!” came the warning from Nichols at the Engineering console. ”Bosinney, what the h.e.l.l're you-?”

”Bosinney's in the Weapons Room, sir,” Yar told him.

”d.a.m.n! Get him down to nurse those engines! If anyone can get warp six out of them, he can.”

By the time Yar turned, the Captain was looking at her. ”Do it.”

The s.h.i.+p shook from another blast.