The alarm clock announced 8:00 AM with a shrill shriek. Captain Vestius opened his eyes and sighed. The nightmare had become reality – after being made the scapegoat in a certain scandal, a meddlesome Admiral decided to add to his misery and banished him to that stinking, dilapidated vessel. After a while, he scrambled out of bed and padded to the bathroom. Or rather, what they called a bathroom here. He quickly washed up and, after throwing on his Merchant Navy captain's uniform, headed for the magnetic cable car connecting the officers' quarters with the transport ship's bridge.
A few seconds later, the cable car reached the bridge. The captain disembarked and walked to the console next to his chair. He carefully studied the daily schedule and grimaced slightly. The first order of business was a thorough inspection of all forty-eight cargo containers. This meant at least a kilometer-and-a-half trip along the ship. Resigned, he sat down in his chair and waited until the deputy chief engineer, Sub-Lieutenant Siren, appeared on the bridge. Together, they headed for the hatch located in the rear wall of the bridge. Immediately behind it were two rows of consoles, each controlling the attachment points of a single container.
The captain approached the first console and entered a few commands on the keyboard. The console responded with several beeps and began a detailed test of the attachment point of container number one. Siren did the same at the console of container number two. They both waited about seven minutes for the test to complete – symbols appeared on the screen indicating the test had been passed. Fortunately, everything was fine.
They repeated a similar procedure with the remaining consoles. It took them less than three hours, and after completing the test on the last two containers, they moved to the engine room.
Meanwhile, the first officer arrived on the bridge. The would-be captain, not entirely satisfied with his role, asked the helmsman for his status in a hissing voice.
"We're flying at warp 7.8, maintaining course 123 by 158. If all goes well, we'll arrive in 9 hours," the helmsman replied, simultaneously checking the transport's onboard weapons once again. Not very impressive, though – two light pulse disruptors in the bow, three Class 14 beam disruptors in the stern, and two microtorpedo launchers, one each in the bow and stern.
Suddenly, 100,000 km from the convoy, space rippled and two Klingon Voodieh-class ships appeared. The powerful machines immediately opened fire. Salvos from disruptors and torpedo tubes eliminated the eight nearest transport ships. Three seconds later, another six transport ships were struck by torpedoes. After the initial blows, the attackers were joined by more ships: three birds of prey. One K'Vort-class and two B'Rel-class. Green missiles from their disruptors eliminated another nine transport ships.
At this point, well behind schedule, two Valdore-class ships joined the fight, followed a second later by a modified Centurion. However, they were unable to save the convoy. Before the Valdore entered weapon range, the last two Romulan transports, shedding plasma, were captured by the B'Rel. One of them was unlucky today. First, it suffered a minor cloaking failure, then its warp drive failed, and finally, while following its sister ship, it inadvertently came under fire from the Valdore's disruptors.
The captains of both ships seized the opportunity and bombarded the B'Rel with a barrage of green missiles and torpedoes. The first salvo from the disruptors stripped the B'Rel of its shields. Of the eight torpedoes fired, only two hit it, but that was enough – the B'Rel lost its ability to fight and maneuver, and many other systems were more or less damaged.
Fortunately, or rather, unfortunately, for the B'Rel's crew, word reached the Valdore's commanders – they were to take prisoners. For captains, and even more so for the cruiser crews, this was, at best, a waste of space and breathable air. For them, the best Klingon was a dead Klingon. But an order was an order. Especially since the Tal'shiar didn't take kindly to captains who disobeyed orders. One of the Valdors flew up to the damaged bird of prey.
"Optimal transport distance," reported the cruiser's helmsman.
"Then we'll take those dogs. Have security wait for them in the transporter room; if there's even the slightest problem, they're to be shot," ordered the disgusted captain.
It quickly became clear he was quite right. As the first groups of Klingons began to disappear from the B'Rel's deck, the B'Rel's warp core exploded. The Valdore, close to it, didn't have time to raise its shields and, hit by the shockwave and debris, began to stagger erratically. The second Valdore barely managed to jump out of the way and was now trying to help its sister ship. Caught in a tractor beam, the Valdore began to slow, only to come to a complete stop after a few seconds.
The dazed crew slowly returned to their stations, beginning repairs to the ship, but the ship was too damaged to avoid a trip to the dock. One torpedo tube had been destroyed, a couple of relays had been burned out, two plasma conduits had been destroyed, and minor hull damage had been sustained—nothing the shipyard couldn't quickly address. At that moment, more Romulan ships appeared on the battlefield: one Gryfin, two Raports, and two Shirke scout ships.
While the two Valdors first attempted to take prisoners and then fought for survival, the rest of the Klingon ships raised their cloaking and departed.
"The dogs are leaving," the Centurion captain declared with a mixture of satisfaction and fury.
"They're afraid of us. This is further proof that Klingon assholes, not warriors, only know how to attack defenseless transports. And the moment a combat ship appears, they run away with their tails between their legs." The crew greeted their commander's words with satisfaction. After all, everyone knew the Klingons were useless. Except as moving targets.
"Status?" the commander asked when the crew's whispers died down.
"The Klingons have departed to an unknown destination, even masking their warp signature," the tactical officer replied. "As for us, only RIS T'Rehau took a beating, but she'll recover. The rest of the ships are undamaged. Subcommander Teris's group just arrived."
16 hours later, Utopia Planitia Fleet Yard, Mars, Sol System.
In one of the shipyard's docks sat a ship unlike any previously built in this shipyard, or in the entire Federation fleet. Instead of a white saucer with attached nacelles, rested a brown-green vessel over a mile long, more resembling a Klingon ship than any GF vessel.
A conference was being held in one of the nearby station's rooms.
"We are gathered here to celebrate the success of the Vood'DaH project with a glass of traditional champagne. The first ship built jointly by the Klingon Defense Force and Starfleet. The first of what I hope will be many."
The assembled group responded with thunderous applause, and everyone sipped their champagne.
"Admiral Santos, you may now introduce the crew of the IKC Vood'DaH."
"Thank you, Ambassador, the first person on the right is Captain Kardan. Right next to him is First Officer Commander Takeshi Izumo." The Admiral introduced. "Next, Tactical Officer Raaga, Science Officer Lieutenant Amanda Triest, Chief Engineer K'ranog, Helmsman Lieutenant William Bates, and Ship's Surgeon Lieutenant Sonja Brington."
The presentation was rewarded with further applause.
"Well, I think it's time to move on to the most important part, the 'launching' of the ship. Captain Kardan, you may now proceed to your ship."
After a dozen or so minutes, when the officers took their places on the ship's bridge.
"Sir, the shipyard gives us the green light, we're ready to launch," the helmsman said, turning to the captain.
"Release the grapples, full maneuvering until we clear the dock, then set a course for Jupiter."
The Vood'DaH began to slowly pull out of the dock. Navigation lights flashed red on the ship's wings and bow. When, after a few seconds, the ship was far enough from the dock, the impulse engines on the wingtips and stern glowed bright blue, and the heavy ship began to accelerate rapidly. After a few seconds, it reached 72 percent of lightspeed, reaching the vicinity of the gas giant in 43 minutes.
"We're 20,000 km from Jupiter's parking orbit; we can continue testing."
"What now, are we testing our ramjet?" the first officer asked.
"At least that's the plan, setting a course for the combat test area?"
"Yes, maximum warp; we'll see what those ramjet engines of yours can do."
The ship began accelerating again, and when its speed reached 94.5% c, it disappeared in a flash of green light emanating from its active thruster nacelles. After approximately thirty minutes, traveling at a speed equivalent to warp 9.99996 on the classic time scale, or warp 20 on the SLS time scale, the ship reached the weapons test range thirty-six light-years away.
"We are here, target number 1 is 0.4 light-seconds away."
"Load disruptors and torpedo launchers, target Alpha 1."
Green missiles and beams struck the old Sentinel, piercing it completely. A moment later, six quantum torpedoes slammed into its hull, plunging it into a whirlwind of fire.
"Target Alpha 1 destroyed," Raaga announced, clearly satisfied with the test results.
Shortly after, a similar fate befell targets Alpha 2, 3, and 4. The battleship, belying its size, nimbly turned, and four bursts of green missiles parried the last of the five test targets.
"Weapons test completed." The tactical commander announced, "Missile deviation from assumed flight path 0.027%—less than I expected."
At the same moment, the comm console beeped quietly.
"Sir, we have a message from the KSO, a mine in the Gretar system is under attack. The Klingons are already sending ships, but they won't arrive for another 4-5 hours; we can get there faster."
"I agree," Will interjected. "The Gretar system is approximately 108 years from our position. At maximum speed, we'll arrive there in approximately 90 minutes."
The outskirts of the Gretar system.
"What's happening, why are we slowing to impulse?" asked the captain, clearly irritated by the fact that he would probably not take part in the fight.
"The engine control program encountered a minor error and has shut down the drive for safety reasons," K'ranog replied, simultaneously beginning to manipulate his console. "We can execute an in-system jump, but reconfiguring the engines will take some time.
" "We still have problems flying at this speed; even the slightest error could end in disaster. That's why the ship's Mark IIb engines have lockouts; perhaps the newly designed Mark IIIs will solve this problem."
"Okay, you'll take care of it, just hurry up."
K'ranog stood up and went to the turbolift leading to the ship's engine room.
"We'll take a look around in the meantime. Amanda, do you have anything on the attacker?"
"Yes, and that's a lot. The outer defensive ring and several K'T'Ings, D7s, and two Vor'Chas are under attack by seven Federation ships – four Miranda Mark IIIs and three new Constitutions."
"They're not doing so well. One Vor'Cha has 45% shields, the other has almost full shields. Both are trying to position themselves to attack the Consts, but they're not very successful; they're constantly flanking them; if this continues, there'll be nothing left of these cruisers."
As if to confirm her words, the explosion of one of the cruisers suddenly lit up the sky. The weakened Vor'Cha wasn't lucky enough to survive the hits of four quantum torpedoes. Its damaged shields practically ceased to exist after the first torpedo hit. The three remaining torpedoes slammed into the ship, along with its quantum cannons, reducing it to a smoking wreck.
The second Vor'Cha suddenly found herself caught between the proverbial rock and a hard place. While the ship attempted to outmaneuver torpedoes from one Constitution, it was furiously attacked by the second ship. The quantum cannon barrages quickly made short work of the shields. The blue quantum beams began to slice through the Klinkian ship's armor with the ease of a hot knife cutting through butter.
When the second Vor'Cha was reduced to a pile of debris and dead bodies, all three Constitutions
flew toward the four Mirandas, who were successively destroying the outer defense ring. Occasionally, they fired two or three beams at K'T'Ing and D7. The remaining Klingon ships were completely ignored by the Federation cruisers and destroyers.
When, for the umpteenth time, individual attacks proved ineffective, the commanders of the two K'T'Ing and three D7 ships decided to focus their fire on a single ship. The ships moved to attack the agreed-upon target. However, they miscalculated. They treated the Mirandas like old ships, capable of fighting D7s at best, and they paid dearly for their ignorance. The Miranda swiftly dodged to the side, avoiding Klingon torpedoes, and her regenerative shields easily withstood the disruptor hits. The attacked Miranda turned toward the incoming ships and then fired all her forward armament. The K'T'Ing, hit by eight quantum torpedoes, disappeared in a storm of fire, while one D7, hit by a burst of blue missiles and blue beams, lost its shields in the blink of an eye and drifted, colliding with its sister ship. Both ships engulfed in a fireball.
Moments later, Miranda passed the Klingon ships and fired eight more torpedoes from her stern tubes at the second K'T'Inga.
In the distance, the Vood'DaH was ready to plunge back into the stream, and three seconds later, it was less than 100,000 km from the largest mine. Disruptors and torpedoes had been ready for some time, and shields were fully charged.
Captain K'ranog ordered the ships attacking the mines to be hailed; but despite the communications officer's best efforts, they failed to respond. The ship's commander then ordered fire. The first ship to come under the disruptors' guns was the modified Defiant. Despite significant modifications, it couldn't withstand the hail of green projectiles. Successive bursts tore through the unshielded hull. Finally, one of them struck the aft torpedo magazine. Suddenly, a massive explosion ripped through the Federation escort ship's hull.
However, the battle between the Klingon ships defending the colony and the attacking Federation vessels was slowly drawing to a close. The gigantic Yamato had just massacred the last five ships with a hail of blue missiles and torpedoes, then headed for the last mine and fired a salvo of tricobalt torpedoes at it.
After this attack, a group of Federation ships activated their jamming systems and entered the stream.
"Do you know where they went?"
"Unfortunately not, they generated so much interference that we were practically blind for several seconds."
"*****," the captain cursed and hit the back of his chair.
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