By Felicia Ferguson
See previous posts for disclaimer.
Author's Note: We're almost back to real time so stick around...the fun is just getting started!
Then
7/7
"Captain! Three Romulan…somethings..decloaking off both port and starboard bows."
"'Somethings,' Mr. Lohn," Riker replied as his gaze shot to the viewscreen. "You have to do better than that."
"Sorry, Captain, but I can't. They aren't reading like normal Warbirds."
Riker propelled himself out of the captain's chair and stalked toward the helm. "Shields up! Red alert!" His steely glare pierced the viewscreen. "Commander T'Noth, I want the commander of that ship on screen now."
Unperturbed by the captain's ferocity, T'Noth replied, "The ship is not responding to hails, Captain."
"Then get me Tal'Aura. Someone's going to tell me what the hell is going on!" Within seconds of his order, the viewscreen blinked and the praetor's face replaced the Warbirds. Her somewhat disheveled state made it obvious that she had been pulled from her bed.
"Captain, I had not expected to hear from you until tomorrow."
"You have a lousy way of showing it, Praetor," Riker spat as his eyes narrowed in distaste, "considering three of your ships have me in firing range."
"They are arming phasers and photon torpedoes," T'Noth said, her Vulcan calm allowing through none of the turmoil that threatened her inner serenity.
"I'm not certain I understand, Captain. You think that I ordered three Warbirds to attack you?" The praetor's sleep-fogged brain couldn't quite compute the logic behind Riker's words. Three Warbirds...attacking...Sela. That was why she hadn't said anything about the state of the navy's refit. She had been planning this all along regardless of Tal'Aura's wishes.
The praetor opened her mouth to counter Riker's belief, but was silenced by the disgust evident in his features. "You don't want peace. It seems as though you never did." He cut off the transmission just as the first wave of phaser fire rocked the ship. "T'Noth, return fire!"
As phasers sliced through shields and torpedoes crashed across bulkheads, an incoming subspace message flashed unseen on a console. Labeled urgent, it's destination for the captain's eyes only, no one thought to glance at it. And if they had, they wouldn't have noticed the slight discrepancies between its format and that of other, more recent Starfleet messages.
She had made provisions for everything, up to and including that the message was only text. Unfortunately, through some quirk of the universe, it wasn't delivered until after the firing began. But it didn't matter in the end. The result was the same.
***
...to be continued...