Danny Amor's Online Library/Danny Amor's Online Library - Volume 1.iso/html/startrek/old-incomplete/st-sw-anewenemy.p8

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From: [e-mail] (William Gracie)
Date: 21 Jan 95 22:42:14
Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
Subject: SW: A NEW ENEMY (PT8)
Message-ID: <[e-mail]>
Organization: Soft-Tech [phone]
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Please note that this story, some of the characters and colonies and the
situations in this story are copyrighted (1995) to Raymond N. Cooper.  I don't
care where this story is sent so long as I remain credited as author and this
tag remains here...
                        STAR WARS
                       CHAPTER VII
                          A NEW ENEMY... (pt8)
                           by
                        Raymond N. Cooper

   The man paused outside the window, peering in.  His head was bald, his face
drawn in tension.  On his chest, Alpha 3 noticed a badge.  Everyone wore them
on this ship.  Must be what they belong to, or something.  That was the logical
conclusion.
   Outside, Picard motioned to the xenoengineer.  "Open it up."
   The young man clambered up onto the top of the spherical cockpit.  He looked
around for some kind of data transfer point, and could find none. "I don't know
if I can open it, sir," he called.  Picard looked into the cockpit again.
   The pilot turned slightly, and pressed a switch.  The doors on top
opened,throwing the xenoengineer off.  The pilot climbed out of the fighter,
and lightly jumped down to the floor.  Instantly, the pilot was surrounded by
security officers, pointing their phasers at the alien.
   The pilot hesitanly raised its arms up to the base of the helmet, and
released three catches.  The helmet was lifted, revealing the face: female,with
short brown hair, with matching brown eyes.  A whistle from somewhere in the
security staff told Picard he wasn't the only male present to find the enemy
pilot attractive.
   It wasn't the sex that confused Picard, though.  It was the species: the
pilot was human.
   "Where do you come from," he asked quietly, aware that the pilot would be
taken to the brig here on the Grissom in a matter of minutes.
   "I was born and raised on Corellia, in the Corellian sector, Middle Band."
The pilot shut herself up, remembering what she had been told at the Academy.
Name, rank, serial number.  "Tavela Du, Ensign - Fighter Pilot with the
Imperial Navy, 1132776-Alpha."
   Captain Chekov entered from the door Picard had.  "Ah, Captain.  You're
finally here.  I see you've met our prisoner?"
   "Yes.  We talked."
   Du looked around the shuttlebay.  Nearby were several shuttlecraft, nothing
as large (and possibly as familiar) as she had learnt to fly, but it was a
shuttle.  And Du had a special gift that enabled her to fly just about any form
of spacecraft.  She waited, biding her time for an escape...
   Chekov stared at the fighter.  It was eight metres high, with twin solar
as each wing - they also doubled as landing gear.  The vehicle had twin laser
cannons, which, like the high-energy laser blasts from the larger ships,were of
a type no one in the Federation or its allied powers had ever seen before.
They could do damage to Federation shielding, after all.  And lasers weren't
supposed to do that.  Sulak had told him that these weren't lasers as humans
classed them.  They were a different type of weapon, very much like a laser,
but starting off with a different type of light from the spectrum,apparently.
Something like that.
   The fighter was propelled by twin ion engines, a form of propulsion left for
dead by the Federation some time ago.  Earlier impulse engines worked along the
same principle, but had been discarded over better acceleration rates from
nuclear reactions.
   Chekov could almost feel as if he was in the same room as a twisted
Federation engineer.  And there had been enough of them.  The fighter was a
work of art.  It wasn't sleek, nor was it particularly beautiful, but it could
fight.
   "Lieutenant, take the prisoner to the brig," Chekov murmured to his Gorn
Security Chief/Tactical Officer.
   "Aye, ssirr," Rrsk hissed.  He gestured with his phaser towards the door.
What happened next, Rrsk wouldn't claim to understand.  Neither would anyone
else.
   A toolkit, lying on the floor, picked itself up, and flung itself towards
the Gorn.  It caught him in the stomach, then flew towards the other Security
personel.  Du ran for the shuttlecraft.  Inside, she stopped, barely able to
take in the technology, the sleek lines, the comfortable approach to a work
vehicle.  The console displays looked totally alien to her, until she calmed
down.  A switch next to her closed the door, she pressed it; it didn't matter
how she knew, she just did.  The Force.  At least, that's what everyone else
back home called it.
   Before the hatch could close properly, the bald man threw himself inside the
pod.  He had a phaser, snatched from a fallen guard.  "Open the door..." he
told her.  He felt an invisible elbow in his stomach, and he collapsed. It was
a minute or two later when he recovered enough to stand.  The phaser lay in the
woman's lap, and she was piloting the shuttle.  Out the windows,Picard could
see the Grissom and Enterprise growing smaller, receding into the distance.
   "Where... are you... taking me?" he gasped, his breath still coming in
ragged puffs.
   "I don't know.  Where did the fleet go?"
   Picard wheezed; he really was getting too old for this sort of action.
"We... don't know.  They... disappeared from our... sensors as soon... as they
left sub-light... drive..."  He picked himself up, and slumped down into a
chair.  "They headed for... Sector 073... That's all I know..."
   Du looked back at her passenger.  He had fallen into either a deep sleep, or
unconsciousness.  She had to leave the area before the enemy caught up.  She
glanced at a sensor display.
   "Damn!"  A cloak of gravitons was closing around the shuttle, ready to hold
tight, and not let go.  Du pressed in a squence on the navigation console, and
tapped out a speed.  The shuttle leapt into warp space.
   She could relax now.  The enemy was far behind.  According to the displays,
this shuttle couldn't match the hyperspace speeds of a Star Destroyer, and it
wasn't designed for long-range travel.  She would have to hope that one of the
two remaining Destroyers from the attack fleet stopped for repairs, or had a
rendez-vous with the others she didn't know about.
   Oh, for a Lambda-class shuttle...!
                       ******

   "Damn it, we missed them!" Captain Chekov's curse could be heard in the
Enterprise's battle bridge over the open comm channel.
   Riker sat in the Captain's chair, watching the main screen, and the
shuttle's escape.  He turned to Worf.  "Do you know where it's heading?"
   "The shuttlecraft is travelling in the direction of Sector 073."
   "If I may interject, Commander," Data piped up, "That class of shuttle is
not designed for long-range warp travel.  I estimate that, if it stays on its
current heading, it will arrive at the Yai-Raj colony in two days."
   "Thank you, Mister Data."  He stood.  "I'll be in Engineering, if anyone
needs me..."
   The turbolift doors slid open to admit Riker.
                       ******