A few days later, the task force was approaching the Pemra system.
Josh had taken a good deal of time to study the situation on Pemra-3. A small world, midway in size between Mars and Earth, Pemra was arid and cold. Unlike Mars, Pemra's atmosphere was breathable – but only barely – and the climate was just moderate enough to be livable in the equatorial area. Pemra had few natural resources and would not normally have attracted much attention, but for two things. First, the colony had once sat on the nexus of several interstellar trade routes and was a natural stopping-off point for starships and their crews to get some rest and repairs. From Pemra, several destinations presented themselves. After Pemra had changed hands and fell into Cardassian possession, its importance as a trading outpost had declined, but its location was the reason it was attracting renewed attention from the Klingons.
Second, the planet was dotted with the ruins of some ancient, long-gone civilization that had once inhabited the place. At first, the Cardassians and Bajorans both claimed that the ruins had been built by their ancient starfaring ancestors, but these claims were soon debunked by Federation research teams. In point of fact, despite two decades of intensive study, no one had yet been able to determine who had built the ruins, or what had happened to them. All that anyone knew for sure was that it was a technologically advanced civilization, and that it was old in the extreme.
Originally a Federation colony, Pemra had found itself on the Cardassian side of the border after the Federation had signed a peace treaty with the Cardassians. Rather than relocate, the colonists had elected to live under Cardassian rule. Small, cold, and short on useful resources, the Cardassians weren't interested in the place and were content to follow a policy of "live and let live" with the colonists.
Currently, there were some twenty-nine thousand colonists on Pemra-3, mostly human but with a smattering of other races, Vulcans and Andorians most notably. When the Klingons invaded Cardassian space, Pemra found itself in the path of several possible Klingon offensives and had asked the Cardassians for help in protecting the colony. When this wasn't forthcoming, the citizens of Pemra decided that now, unlike after the Cardassian treaty, was the time to move. Cardassian rule was harsh but tolerable; Klingons on the warpath were not. When the Cardassians had denied Pemra's request for assistance, the colonists had requested permission from the Cardassians for a Federation task force to evacuate the colony, which was quickly granted.
Once more, Josh found himself pulled out of a lull by the sounding of Red Alert. Striding on to the bridge from his Ready Room, he was quickly brought up to speed by Zhukov.
"Three Klingon Vor'cha-class attack cruisers have decloaked and are on an intercept course for our position," the Russian first officer reported. "They have activated weapons and shields and will be within firing range in less than two minutes." Zhukov gave his report as if it were utterly routine; Josh observed that nothing seemed to phase the man.
If only it was routine, Josh reflected. But the Vor'cha class attack cruiser was the most formidable ship in the Klingon fleet, capable of giving even a power pack like Constitution a serious fight. Although the Klingons seemed to be outnumbered by the twelve approaching Starfleet ships, Josh knew that for every attack cruiser he could see, there were probably three additional smaller Klingon vessels lurking nearby under cloak. If his guess was correct, that made the odds twelve on twelve. The Starfleet task force might have a small edge in overall firepower, but the Klingons would compensate for that with an astonishing disregard for life and limb that the Starfleet crews would not and could not match.
Assuming his seat in the captain's chair, Josh ordered, "Lieutenant Navat, open a channel."
"Open, sir."
Josh repeated his first hail to the Klingons, several days earlier, almost verbatim. "This is Captain Joshua Travis of the Federation starship Constitution to Klingon vessels. Please open communications and explain your intentions."
To Josh's surprise, this time his hail was answered. "They are answering, sir," Navat said simply.
"On screen."
The viewscreen flickered, and upon it came up the image of the ugliest Klingon Josh had ever seen. Powerful, squat, heavy set, he was craggy faced, with extremely dense eyebrows and a pugnacious protruding nose, giving this Klingon a somewhat demonic appearance. To complete the look, several nasty scars ran down the left side of his face, as if the skin on his face had been badly peeled off.
He didn't waste any time in getting down to business. "I am General Kalor of the Imperial Klingon Fleet. I am the commander of all Klingons units in this area. What is it that you want?"
"I think I asked that question first," Josh answered sharply. There was no point in subtlety; the Klingons neither recognized nor respected it. "You're operating in Federation space. More to the point, your ships are fully armed and ready for battle. So I repeat: what are your intentions, General? You should understand that while we are not looking for a fight, we can and will defend ourselves if necessary."
Kalor let out something between a contemptuous snort and mocking laughter. "Brave words, Captain! I commend you for them. But it will take much more than idle threats to frighten Klingon warriors. You ask what our intentions are. Very well, I shall tell you. Our orders are to secure this sector of space from all non-Klingon vessels. That includes Starfleet vessels. If you do not withdraw from this area immediately, we will take any steps necessary to ensure the security of this area."
Josh stood up from his chair and drew himself up to his full height. "Idle threats don't impress us
"That will not be possible," Kalor snarled, and terminated his transmission.
So much for that, Josh thought.
"Sir, the Klingons are opening fire!" Visch reported.
"Shields to maximum. Helm, evasive maneuvers," Josh ordered.
His officers complied with their orders just as the ship was plastered by a ferocious volley of disrupter fire. The ship rocked about as the inertial dampeners were momentarily overwhelmed by the energy surge.
"Damage report!" Zhukov demanded.
Visch consulted his instruments. "They hit us with a pretty good shot. Shields are at eighty percent, but there is no damage to key subsystems or reports of casualties."
"Hail them, Mr. Visch,' Josh ordered, even as the ship was pounded once again. Visch tapped his console and nodded at Josh, indicating an open channel. "This is Captain Travis of the Constitution to all Klingon ships," he began. "Break off your attacks or we will be forced to return fire."
The only answer was another punishing Klingon salvo. "Shields at fifty percent," Visch informed Josh. "And we've got several Birds-of-Prey decloaking and attacking other ships in the task force."
"Which ones?" Josh asked.
Zhukov answered, "The Halifax, Louis Riel and Khitomer are all under attack. The others have taken sporadic hits but nothing serious."
Josh thought quickly. "They're targeting our bigger ships and leaving the smaller ones alone," he said.
"Testing our defenses?" Zhukov asked.
"Exactly," Josh replied, just as Constitution shook from another Klingon attack.
"Shields at forty-five percent," Visch warned.
"Arm all weapons, Mr. Visch. Target the pulse phaser cannons on their engines and weapons, full power." As Josh well knew, half-measures against a Vor'cha class attack cruiser were a waste of time.
"Ready, sir."
"Fire!"
Constitution wheeled about and locked on to one of the offending Klingon vessels, closing in daringly on her target. Once within point-blank range, she opened up with a ferocious volley of energy fire that pumped out across space and smashed into the Klingon vessel's port engine.
"Direct hit!" Visch reported. "Enemy shields at forty percent. They're moving away to regroup and recharge their shields."
"Good work, Mr. Visch," Josh reported. "Have Majestic and Bonaventure come up and support the Halifax."
Zhukov transmitted the message to the other ships. "Louis Riel is under attack from four Birds-of-Prey and has suffered damage to her starboard warp nacelle," he reported. He looked at Josh and asked, "Should we…."
Josh knew what his first officer was about to suggest and cut him off in mid-sentence. "No, not yet. I don't think this is a life and death struggle. Contact Sagittarius and have them help out the Louis Riel. And order our remaining ships to move into line with Constitution and concentrate their fire on the two undamaged attack cruisers."
Within seconds the Starfleet vessels had received and executed their orders. Regrouped, they faced the Klingon force squarely. Space flashed brightly as lethal torrents of white-hot energy flashed across the vacuum and smashed into the shields of the opposing forces.
The two sides were quite evenly matched. In general, the Klingon ships were smaller and much more maneuverable, weaving and darting around the larger Starfleet cruisers, threatening to disrupt the cohesiveness of their formation. On the other hand, the Starfleet ships were well armored and possessed a small overall advantage in firepower.
Breaking off from the main group, one daring Bird-of-Prey swooped in and hit Constitution with several nasty photon torpedo attacks, using the firepower of General Kalor's attack cruiser as cover.
One of these hits made it through the shields and scored damage on the big ship's outer skin. "Outer hull damage on deck nine," Visch reported. "Force fields in place and holding."
Again, the daring Bird-of-Prey flew in tight and fast, delivering another blow on Constitution's wounded area. Fortunately, the big ship's shields held this time, deflecting the attack harmlessly into space.
"I've just about had enough of this," Josh growled. "Commander Zhukov, I want that ship out of the sky, now!"
Zhukov nodded. The orders were clear enough: no more pulling punches. "Aye, sir."
Ordering Constitution on a new course, Zhukov had the big ship hone in on the offending Bird-of-Prey. Ignoring several powerful blasts from other Klingon vessels and relying on the other Starfleet vessels to cover her, Constitution relentlessly closed in on its tormentor. The Klingon vessel dodged and weaved, desperately attempting to evade Constitution's pursuit, but to no avail. Using her superior impulse speed, the big ship effortlessly closed in on the doomed Klingon vessel.
"We're in optimum firing range," Visch reported.
"Lock quantum torpedoes," Zhukov ordered.
"Target locked."
"Fire."
A handful of powerful torpedoes burst forth from Constitution's forward weapons array and honed in mercilessly on the small Klingon vessel. Pounding into the Bird-of-Prey with pinpoint accuracy, they quickly overwhelmed the small ship's shields. In seconds, it was all over, as the Klingon vessel evaporated in a flash of light and searing heat.
Just then, Visch reported, "The Klingon ships have broken off their attack and are re-cloaking, sir."
Navat asked, "Is that it? They're retreating? Have we won?"
Josh shook his head. "Not retreating, Lieutenant,
Zhukov said, "According to Starfleet Intelligence, the nearest major formation of Klingon ships is approximately twenty-four hours away."
There was an ominous silence on the bridge for a moment. Finally, Josh said, "Then we have one day at most
It was now a race against time.