Yellow
Several hours passed on the bridge of the USS Rorschach in silence. The first leg of the journey through the Pavel Nebula was nothing if not uneventful. The mood on the bridge, however, was tense - each of the crew on hand knew what was at stake, knew that they were alone, out here, and knew that they were flying blind, with their long-range sensors virtually useless within the nebula's confines. Gallant was keeping a firm hand on the helm - figuratively speaking, since his hands were plunged into the console itself, interfacing with the Rorschach's flight control systems directly. Tatiyana kept a close eye on her sensors, as if expecting an enemy target to plunge into the nebula and strike at them at any moment.
Maddox's breaths were somewhat deeper than normal, and every few minutes he'd wipe a bead of sweat off his brow. This was smooth sailing, at least compared to how treacherous the Crystal Gorge was bound to be, and yet Maddox found himself overcome with dread. All they had to fly by right now was the flight path that he'd worked out with Karn before they'd entered the nebula. If they missed their exit, even by the slightest amount...they'd be trapped in here for days. By the time they escaped, the neutrino trail would be cold, and Earth would be destroyed.
No pressure, he thought to himself with a dry smile.
Lieutenant Commander Data, of course, still seated at the Ops station, was the paragon of calm, and of composure. He watched his console steadily, keying up various sensor displays, in thermal, visual, and every other spectrum he could think of, on both the short-range and mid-range sensor systems.
There.
It wasn't a significant pattern of data at first, but the android noticed that bearing 027 mark 029, to starboard, there was what looked like a displacement of gases consistent with ripples. He switched from thermal spectrum to a sensor sweep to detect ion trails, which would have been left by impulse drives. Here, he noticed more of the ripples, forming a wake. The wake led forward, and seemed to have dissipated significantly. From his observations, Data estimated that whatever else was in the nebula was about another forty seconds at Warp Five ahead. Cross-referencing the readings with his knowledge of the various types of impulse drives employed on Federation starships, the manufacture of the vessel that had produced the wake was probably Starfleet in origin, sometime in the late 23rd century. This would have proven it either a Miranda-Class, Excelsior-Class, or some other, contemporary, class of vessel.
Within the span of a few seconds, Data had double-checked and triple-checked his readings, with the same consistent result. There was another ship, most likely a Federation ship from the late 23rd century, which appeared to have entered the nebula before they had, and most likely from another point of origin.
"Captain Maddox," Data called out, breaking the reverie on the bridge. Maddox jumped a little, in surprise, but then straightened himself and relaxed in his chair.
"Yes, MIster Data?" he responded.
"I am picking up the ion trail of a Federation starship in this sector. I suggest we drop out of warp to investigate."
Maddox paused, knowing the danger of veering off-course. With their long-range navigation instruments useless, they could be lost if they moved too far from their current flight path.
"Lieutenant Chekov," he commanded, glancing over at Tatiyana, "Launch a series of Class-V navigational probes. I want us to be able to find our way back here."
"Aye, keptin," Tatiyana responded, tapping in the command into her console. There was a beeping sound, and on the main viewer a series of bright red lights could be seen, having fired from the main torpedo launcher in the sensor/weapons pod. "Probes are avay, keptin."
Maddox paused, and stood from his seat. He approached Data's console, crouched down, and glanced over the readings that Data had taken, which almost precisely pinpointed the location of the ship.
"How long until we're in range?" he asked.
"We will enter sensor range in nine seconds," Data responded.
Maddox glanced over immediately at Ensign Gallant, his face tight in a frown. He had a bad feeling, in the pit of his stomach, about all of this.
"Drop out of warp," he commanded, "Plot an intercept course, one-quarter impulse."
"Aye, sir," Gallant responded. He pushed against the console, again as if exerting the force of the maneuvering thrusters and disengaging the engines with his own two hands, and then relaxed. He glanced over at the captian, as the rest of the bridge crew felt the ship slow to a crawl. "One-quarter impulse, sir."
Data glanced up at Maddox, who was still standing next to him, with a concerned look on his face.
"Captain," Data suggested, "The transmission received from Starbase Thirty-Four stated that they were attacked by a Federation starship. At our last contact with Starfleet Command, there was no indication that any Federation vessels, other than the Rorschach, had been assigned to the Pavel Nebula nor any of the outlying areas. I recommend we proceed with caution."
Maddox considered the possiblities, and then glanced back at his First Officer.
"How big would you say she is, Data?" he asked.
"Engine patterns are consistent with a Starfleet Miranda-Class or Excelsior-Class vessel, though the projected mass of the ship matches the Miranda-Class more closely," Data answered.
Maddox considered carefully the possibilities. A Miranda-Class starship would have been too small to have destroyed a Starbase, to say nothing of an entire fleet. A Miranda was a light cruiser, and wouldn't have been able to put a dent in the Starbase's hull before the automatic pulse phaser cannons would have come online, and blown her out of the sky. No, this wasn't their mystery attacker.
But they had no way of knowing that this ship was the only one out here. And if there were others...
"Yellow Alert, Lieutenant Chekov," Maddox snapped.
"Aye, keptin," Tatiyana responded, raising the Rorschach's shields, and running minimal power to her weapons systems, just bringing them far enough online that they'd be primed if they ran into trouble.
Maddox watched the main viewscreen, the orange clouds parting as they made their way through. It seemed that the nebula, here, was less dense, and they had a slightly clearer field of vision.
"Now entering sensor range," Gallant called out. Maddox returned to the command chair, his eyes still glued to the viewscreen.
"Are we in visual range?" Maddox asked.
"Aye," Gallant responded.
"Then get her onscreen. Lieutenant Chekov, I want you to open a channel as soon as we're in communications range," Maddox commanded.
Data's hands were still flicking to and fro across the front of the Ops console, and his face became a mask of confusion as the new sensor readings began to confirm the ship's identity. Simultaneously, the viewscreen flickered, and the image of an old Constitution-class saucer section with two nacelles grafted rather haphazardly to her sides came into focus. There were eight phaser cannons, a pair on the port and starboard sides of the ventral, and of the dorsal sides of the craft. Each of the pairs had one cannon pointing forward, and one reversed. Maddox didn't recognize the older ship class, but Data, glancing up from the computer readout, would have recognized her instantly, even if he hadn't just recovered the information from her transponder.
"The starship on the viewscreen, Captain, is a Chekhov-class medium cruiser, a starship used for border patrol, and perimeter defense," Data explained.
As was to be expected, Tatiyana's face lit right up.
"Chekov-class!" she exclaimed, smiling, "Named for my great-grandfather himself. Another Russian inwention!"
"Inaccurate, Lieutenant," Data corrected, "While the design team for the class was largely made up of Engineers from Russia and other slavic regions, the specifications on the Chekhov class list a silent 'H' between the 'K' and 'O', indicating that the ship was rather named for the famed medical practitioner and playwright Anton Chekhov, an author who, in the late nineteenth and early twentieth-centuries, was considered to be among the greatest authors of short stories to have ever - "
"Mister Data, I really don't think now's the time," Maddox interrupted. "Tell us about this ship, please."
"The vessel is registered as the USS Soyuz," Data explained, "Her tactical strengths are her numerous phaser cannons, maneuverability, and small attack profile. Disadvantages include weak shield strength, sub-standard hull integrity, and a non-redundant relay system connected to both the ship's computer core and the main power grid."
"Keptin," Tatiyana interrupted, "I am unable to reach the Soyuz. They are not responding to our hails, but they appear to be transmitting a signal on their emergency beacon. Audio only."
Maddox paused, aware of the implications. As they neared the Soyuz, he could see why the signal was being transmitted - one of the ship's nacelles had been shorn almost completely off, and was hemorrhaging plasma. The remainder of the ship's hull was littered with scorches and hull breaches, with one particularly nasty-looking hold, probably left by a high-impact torpedo or other projectile, having cut right through the saucer section of the ship, itself. The lights were off, and the sensor dome at the rear of the ship looked like it had been blown right to shards. Whatever had happened to the Soyuz, out here, it hadn't been pleasant, and it hadn't been friendly.
"Let's hear it," Maddox sighed, his voice full of dread.
After a moment, Tatiyana brought up the signal she was receiving, and put it on the bridge speakers.
" - to all Federation vessels in range. We are under attack by an unidentified starship. Our shields are down, and our structural integrity has been compromised. We are at grid 332 within nebula P-4731, requesting immediate assistance!" The message paused, and then began to loop, playing back right from the start. "This is the USS Soyuz, transmitting to all Federation vessels in range. We are under attack by an unidentified starship..."
"Cut the channel," Maddox snapped, his eyes widening slightly. "Divert auxiliary power to sensor systems. I don't want whatever's out there to catch us off-guard."
Data made the necessary adjustment from his station, and glanced back up at Maddox.
"Sensors are not detecting any other vessel in the area," Data explained, "However, I am detecting a second ion trail, which is set on a course 054 mark 010, moving away from the wreck of the Soyuz." Data paused, scanning the Soyuz one more time. "The Soyuz is derelict. Life support is off-line, her core was ejected some time ago. No life-signs detected."
The bridge crew was silent, for a moment, and Maddox considered their next move. If they followed the enemy ship, it might divert them from their course. But if they continued, ignoring the ion trail, then it was possible that whatever had attacked the Soyuz would ambush them further into the nebula, where it was denser...where they would be unable to detect it. They'd also be leaving a potential threat out, in this sector. Either way...it was too big a risk to proceed without at least finding the enemy ship first.
"Follow the ion trail, Mister Gallant," Maddox commanded, "Full impulse. Lieutenant Chekov, stand down yellow alert, and engage red alert. Arm phasers and photon torpedoes."
"Aye, Captain," Gallant responded.
"Aye, keptin," echoed Tatiyana.
Maddox watched on the main viewer as the Rorschach accelerated, moving into the denser and denser pockets of the cloud, veering past the Soyuz into the orange abyss. Clouds parted before them as they moved, revealing the wake of a large vessel. They followed into it, like into a tunnel, Maddox almost holding his breath as they did so. Whatever had destroyed the Soyuz was out here, in front of them. The wake was getting narrower, and narrower - soon, they'd surely be right on top of their quarry. It was then, to Maddox's surprised, that he noticed that the 'tunnel' - the wake - came to a dead end stop, coming closer and closer.
"Tell me what I'm looking at, Mister Data," Maddox snapped, anxiously.
"Uncertain," Data explained, turning to face him. "The ion trail ends here, but the vessel cannot be cloaked, as the gases within the nebula would prevent a cloak from providing proper cover. I suspect that the vessel either used a tractor beam or decompression from a shuttlebay in order to move the ship out of our flight path."
Maddox frowned. It had been a set-up. Whoever had taken off in this direction had seen them coming, and had done this with the specific intent of catching them in a snare.
"We walked right into it," Maddox whispered. Tatiyana glanced up, worriedly. "Data, search for another ion trail."
Data paused, glancing down at his terminal.
"The clouds in this region have disabled our mid-range sensors, along with long-range sensors," Data explained, "I am unable to pinpoint any other ion trails in this sector."
Maddox's eyes widened. The other ship was out there, hidden in the gases of the Pavel Nebula, and they had absolutely no means of finding it. They'd walked right into a trap, and were firmly boxed in.
"Do we have any sensor readings at all, Data?" Maddox asked.
"Only along the wake we just followed, along with some readings from our Class-V probes," Data explained. As if in response to his words, Tatiyana's console began to trill and shriek.
"Keptin!" she cried, "I have lost contact vith the first probe. Attempting to boost signal to the other two to compensate - " She paused, as beeping from the console interrupted her once more. She tapped the display in front of her, loading data from the second probe. She glanced up in alarm, towards Maddox. "Keptin, ve have lost contact vith the second probe!"
Maddox's eyes widened. If the navigational beacons they'd dropped would be lost, they'd be blind in the nebula, unable to complete their mission.
"Full reverse!" he snapped, "Gallant, get us back to the Soyuz!"
"Keptin," Tatiyana whispered, faintly, detecting his distress, "I regret to inform you, but...ve just lost the last Class-V probe."
Maddox slammed his fist down on the command chair, frustration overwhelming him. Their enemy had lured them out, for the sake of destroying the navigational beacons. Trapping them like rats.
"Sir?" Gallant stammered, "Shall we continue present course - ?"
"Yes!" Maddox snapped, angrily, "Back to the Soyuz! Full impulse! Engage, now!"
After several seconds, they moved back into the wider stretch of the wake, and the pocket of sparse gases where the Soyuz lay came back into focus. Data double-checked, and triple-checked his readings.
"No other vessels detected in the immediate vicinity," he explained.
"She's out there..." Maddox whispered, "And she's a smart girl, whoever she is."
"Again, sir," Data pondered, raising an eyebrow, "Your tendency to attribute feminine gender to objects which are clearly not organic, or remniscient in any way of organic beings, fascinates me. As a point of curiosity, by what means would one distinguish the sexuality of a vessel similar to the - "
"Shut up, or shut down!" Maddox hissed, seething at having been caught in such a simple trap.
Data arched an eyebrow, in surprise. "I shall endeavor to 'shut up', Captain," Data responded.
"All hands to battle stations," Maddox commanded, having opened a ship-wide broadcast, "Repeat, all hands to battle stations."
There was silence once more on the bridge, and Maddox watched the clouds ahead of them.
"Data, can you use any of our reserve power, from something like the warp reactor or tractor beams, to boost the efficiency of the sensors?"
Data simply stared blankly ahead.
"Data?" Maddox repeated, "Mister Data, are you listening?"
Again, Data neglected to respond.
"Mister Data!" Maddox roared, getting more flustered by the minute, "Damnit, answer me!"
Data turned, confused, with an eyebrow arched in his usual, distinctive manner.
"Your orders are in conflict, Captain," Data explained, "While you are ordering me to respond, you had just explicitly ordered me to cease responding, and indicated that the alternative was that I would be deactivated. Am I to assume that you belay your previous - ?"
"Yes, yes, yes!" Maddox snapped, "But can you do it?"
Data paused, squinting a moment in thought.
"No," he explained, "However, theoretically, we could fire another burst of Class-V probes from the weapons pod. Once deployed, we could use our subspace transmitter to communicate with each of the probes by means of pulses, which when received, the probes would transmit back."
"Like in a tachyon detection grid?" Maddox pondered.
"No," Data explained, "The end result would bear more similarity to the radar systems employed by Earth naval vessels in the mid-to-late twentieth century."
Maddox smiled, and nodded. "I knew there was a reason we brought you along," he grinned, "Tatiyana, fire probes. Data, start transmitting as soon as the probes are in position."
"Probes away, keptin," Tatiyana answered.
"Probes will be in position in an estimated fifteen-point-four seconds, sir," Data observed.
Maddox paused, waiting for those fifteen-point-four seconds to end. They were among the longest seconds he'd endured in his life. After an awkward wait, Data's console began to flicker, and beep, and the android leaned down, keying in confirmation.
"Captain," he called out, "The probes are transmitting sensor data. No other vessels detected in the area."
"Fire out a pulse every five seconds," Maddox snapped, "Keep me apprised - "
"No need, sir," Data corrected, "The results of the second pulse have just returned. There does appear to be a large object, bearing 063 mark 119."
Maddox stood from the chair, moving closer to the viewscreen.
"Do we have a visual yet?" he asked.
"They are leaving a dense pocket of gas," Data explained, "Visual will be ineffective until after they have entered weapons range."
This left Maddox with a further predicament. They knew there was something out here, something hostile, but they had no way of identifying the vessel that was now approaching their position. He paused for a moment, and turned to Gallant.
"Back us away," he commanded Gallant, "And, Tatiyana, have a spread of torpedoes ready, maximum yield."
"Aye, keptin," Chekov responded, firing up the Rorschach's targeting computers, and alerting the torpedo control rooms. Once finished, she glanced up at Maddox, anxiously. "Keptin, wessel is moving into veapons range. Do you vant me to fire?"
"Only if we get a clear shot," Maddox snapped, "Wait for my signal..."
They watched as a large, dark form came into view, still mostly hidden behind the gases. Maddox could see two lights, red lights, as the vessel approached, and raised a hand, ready to signal Chekov as soon as the starship came into range.
"Ten-thousand kilometers," Data spoke, advising the bridge crew of the ship's approach, "Nine-thousand...eight-thousand...seven-thousand...the vessel has entered weapons range."
Just as Maddox was about to give the order, the craft cleared the last of the orange gas clouds, revealing the profile of a Starfleet Nebula-Class starship. Just as he flinched, about to bring down his arm and give the order, he stopped himself and glanced over Tatiyana with madness in his eyes.
"Wait!" he called out, "Not yet! Don't fire yet!" He glanced back at the ship, and then over at his First Officer. "Data," he asked, "What ship is that?"
Data paused, gathering sensor data on the incoming craft. He stopped short, glancing up at Maddox, puzzlement on his face.
"The approaching starship is registered as the USS Sutherland," he spoke, rather quietly. "They do not appear to have suffered any significant damage."
"The Sutherland..." Maddox whispered, trying to recall the events of the last few hours, "Wasn't Sutherland one of the ships reported lost at Starbase Thirty-Four?"
Data nodded, appearing slightly uneasy.
"It was, sir," Data muttered, softly, "It was the largest and most powerful vessel of the fleet assigned to that starbase's defense."
Maddox paused, watching the ship approach on the main viewer.
"Have they powered their weapons?" he asked, glancing over at Tatiyana.
"Negative," she responded, watching her console carefully, "But she has shields raised. And..." Her console started to flicker and beep, and she glanced up at the Captain with uncertainty in her voice. "Keptin...Lieutenant Commander Hobbes is hailing us. He says that it is urgent, keptin."
Maddox paused, glancing over at Data.
"Recommendations, Number One?"
Data paused, glancing over at Maddox, and twitching as he computed all of the different possibilities, outcomes, and results. After he felt sufficiently ready to respond, he did so.
"The Sutherland's last orders were to locate a scoutship that entered the Vagra sector," Data explained, "And, while she was reported lost, analysis of the debris from the starbase has not been completed yet."
Maddox sat back down in the chair and leaned back. He frowned, and considered the implications of Data's observations.
"Captain," Data reminded him, "The starbase was destroyed by a Federation starship. A Nebula-Class starship with a full weapons pod would have possessed sufficient armament to destroy the base, especially if the starbase had been caught by surprise."
Maddox paused, watching the ship draw nearer and nearer. He glanced over at Tatiyana, and sighed.
"Put them through," he ordered, "But keep a close eye on their weapons systems."
"Aye, keptin," Tatiyana responded. She tapped another switch, and the image of Christopher Hobbes - an image familiar to Data - filled the viewscreen. The bridge behind him appeared to have been moderately damaged, and the view was dark. Data couldn't see Hobbes' eyes, nor could anyone else. The yellow emergency lights were on in the background, which immediately struck Maddox and Data both as being suspicious.
"This is Captain Bruce Maddox of the Federation starship Rorschach," Maddox opened, glaring at the other officer, "Lieutenant Commander Hobbes, would you please explain - "
"Captain Maddox," Hobbes responded, rudely cutting him off. Hobbes was speaking in a monotone, and an eerie one. "It is good to see you. And...it is good to see you, too, Mister..." Hobbes paused, as if trying to recall a name long forgotten, and then smiled lightly. "Mister Data."
Data arched an eyebrow suspiciously.
"Likewise," Data responded.
"Lieutenant Commander Hobbes," Maddox snapped, "I asked you to explain your situation. Either annswer the question, or get me someone who - "
"Why have you charged your weapons?" Hobbes asked, frowning at him. "Do you consider us a threat? We are a science vessel, Captain. Consider the...aggressive nature of your actions. Do you not recall from General...from General orders that such an action is punish...punishable by court-martial?"
Maddox's hand clenched into a fist. There was something most certainly not right here. He glanced over at Tatiyana, who seemed to have little to report. They weren't powering weapons, and they weren't attacking...but there was something seriously wrong with the way that Hobbes was behaving.
"Mister Data," Maddox spoke, lowly, "How many lifesigns aboard?"
Data paused, entering instructions for the sensors into the computer. He turned, when the results were ready.
"Full complement, sir," he responded.
Maddox paused, watching Hobbes on the screen, and considering his next move.
"Is there a problem, Captain?" Hobbes asked.
"Possibly," Maddox answered.
"We could discuss it in greater detail," Hobbes suggested, "If you would be so good as to transport aboard the Sutherland. We would be pleased to have you as...have you as our guest."
* * *
The creature watched, from the far side of the bridge, as its puppet continued to act, buying time so that the creature could complete its true task. It had successfully managed to wrench its way into the minds of each and every humanoid creature aboard, every human, every Vulcan, everyone. There wasn't a single creature left not under its influence. It kept silent, watching as the form of Lieutenant Commander Hobbes reassured Bruce Maddox that everything aboard the Sutherland was fine.
And it was. For the creature. As for Hobbes and the rest...well, it was simply unfortunate that they'd been dragged into all of this. But the creature had at least allowed them to keep their lives, and it would allow them to keep their lives once all of this was done. Perhaps. Depending on whether it amused the creature or not to do so.
Controlling all of these beings, though, was a significantly taxing experience for the creature. Its powers were great, its malice and drive even greater, but it was not omnipotent...not infinite...not limitless. It could only do so much. Such was the legacy of the Shining Ones who had abandoned it - once a being of perfection, the creature was now just as flawed as these mortals. And that infuriated it to no end.
Hobbes was struggling, against it. Trying to break free. Trying to regain control. Of all the humans aboard, Hobbes was unusually strong-willed. Doubtless, this was the reason that he was in command. The creature was having a difficult time with him...but the creature knew it only needed to keep its hold over the man another few seconds. It would kill Hobbes as soon as the time was right.
While Hobbes was distracting the Rorschach crew, the creature had manipulated the tactical officer into sending a special message, directly on a carrier wave...a message that was being sent in, over and over and over again. Eventually, it would get the combination right. It was a simple matter of calculation, a simple matter of finding the right crack in the Rorschach's armor. Any minute now...
"Lieutenant Commander," Maddox snapped, his image on the viewscreen growing more and more frustrated by the minute, "Stop changing the subject. You are going to tell me what you're doing out here, and what happened at Starbase Thirty-Four, or I'll have no choice but to - "
Hobbes made one final push. The creature lost him, its hold on his consciousness slipping like sand through its fingers...if it had fingers, anyway. Hobbes stepped forward, just slightly, into the light. The shock on the faces of the bridge crew were apparent when they saw who they were dealing with.
The creature restrained a howl. It only needed a few more seconds...perhaps there was still time...
* * *
"Lieutenant Commander," Maddox snapped, standing up from his chair, "Stop changing the subject. You are going to tell me what you're doing out here, and what happened at Starbase Thirty-Four, or I'll have no choice but to - "
Hobbes then stepped forward into the light, and Maddox stopped dead in his tracks, his complete threat derailed by the implications of what he was seeing. Hobbes was starting to laugh, lightly, but then dissolved into a slight cry, which on its own dissolved into sobs. He was most certainly Christopher Hobbes - chestnut hair, reasonably athletic build, and all. His uniform was Christopher Hobbes'.
But his eyes...his eyes were different. His eyes were black. Not just the pupils, but the whites of his eyes, as well. They were covered by what looked like a black, thick sludge. As Hobbes started to cry, black, slimy tears trickled down the sides of his face.
"Please..." he whispered, "Please, Captain...Captain, you have to...you have to do it..."
Maddox paused, glancing around at the bridge crew. Data was shocked, noticeably. Tatiyana was apalled, and clearly sickened by the appearance of the tears. Gallant was making an effort just to look away.
"Hobbes," Maddox spoke, "Hobbes, what? What do we have to do?"
Data noticed an odd display appearing on his console, and investigated. He glanced up at Maddox, his face showing concern and, perhaps, even a little bit of worry.
"Captain," Data explained, "The ship's sensors have identified a second transmission, using our hails as a carrier wave."
"Second transmission?" Maddox pondered, "To who?"
"It appears to be a string of random characters, but the transmission is being forwarded into our tactical systems," Data explained, "There, the characters are decompressed into specific alphanumeric characters. I suspect the Sutherland is attempting to transmit our prefix codes."
Maddox's eyes widened, and he glanced back at Hobbes, his face a mess of anger and desperation.
"Lieutenant Commander," Maddox snapped, "Explain!"
"Just do it..." Hobbes sobbed, "Please..."
Maddox stepped closer, watching the broken man, his heart struck with pity and fear all at the same time.
"Do what?" Maddox repeated, "What do we have to do?"
Hobbes bit down hard on his lower lip, black tears flowing freely.
"Kill me," he whispered, "Kill me..."
Tatiyana glanced up from her console in terror, slamming her fists down on it, trying to revive failing systems.
"Keptin!" she cried, "Our prefix codes have been transmitted! Shields are falling!" There was another burst of beeps and squeals from the console, and Tatiyana looked back at Maddox with even more fear. "They are firing torpedoes!"
Before Maddox could utter a word, there was a bright flash of light on the viewscreen. Christopher Hobbes was flung across the bridge, and crumpled in a heap at the back of it, dead.
Data recognized the distinct pattern of the energy burst, the flash of light, when Hobbes had been struck. He recognized the way that Hobbes soared, landed, and ceased breathing, curled into a ball at the rear of the bridge.
Hobbes had just died the exact same way Tasha had, and at the same hands.
"Armus," Data whispered, the angry sensations from earlier that day beginning to return to him.
The torpedoes fired by the Sutherland shot forth from the vessel's weapons pod, their path flawless, and within seconds they connected solidly with the hull plating just to the starboard of the main bridge. Without the shields in place, the torpedoes exploded, sinking into the hull itself, and leaving three nasty, black holes, spewing forth fire and ash.
The bridge shook, and flames kicked up from a display on the left side of the room. The lights flickered, and then went to yellow. The indications were tell-tale: the ship's main power had been hit, and was offline. Maddox slammed his fist down on the arm of his chair, glancing over at Tatiyana.
"Lock phasers and photon torpedoes!" he barked, "Target their weapons and engines, and fire at will! Data, get those shields back up!"
"Impossible, sir," Data explained, "As long as the Sutherland is transmitting the prefix codes, we will remain unable to reactivate the shields.
Before he could utter another command, the Sutherland had maneuvered into position behind the Rorschach. Gallant tried desperately to steer clear, and to shake her off, but the Sutherland seemed to be matching his every move, his every attempt.
"I can't shake them!" Gallant cried.
"Evasive maneuvers!" Maddox ordered.
"I'm using evasive maneuvers!" Gallant spat, in frustration, "It's not working!"
"Aft torpedo launcher, fire!" Maddox spat, glaring over at Tatiyana.
It was too late. By the time that Tatiyana's fingers touched the panel, the Sutherland had already fired her forward phasers. They struck square, decisive blows to the Rorschach's secondary hull, and to the dorsal part of the saucer section, cutting right through one of the Rorshach's phaser strips. The ship shook, sparks rained down from panels all over the bridge, and, among them, was the communications panels at either side of the captain's chair, as well as several of the displays behind it. Propelled by the force of the explosion behind him, Bruce Maddox flew across the bridge, landing just inches shy of Gallant's chair. He'd struck his head on the way down, and there was a vicious-looking gash near one of his temples. His eyes fluttered, and he fell limp.
As Tatiyana gazed at Maddox's body in horror, Data turned, getting up immediately from his station and tapping his commbadge.
"Bridge to Sickbay," he called, "Medical emergency."
"Take a number!" the voice of Ensign Lissa Cohl snapped back, before terminating the transmission.