“Freighter Gratokhas experienced some kind of engine failure. They’ve lost attitude control.”
Hamnod was a large man with a belly that protruded sufficiently far in front of him that most of those in Orbital Control joked that his stomach arrived five minutes before he did. That belly was rubbing up against Talik’s console now, as the supervisor peered at the shatterframe display that gave the usual view of about eighty percent of the space around Raknal V. The only thing missing was the area on the far side of the planet—a blind spot at one hundred and eighty degrees from their position, and, not coincidentally, where the Klingons had set up their orbital control center. At present, the only bodies showing on the display were the Gratok—which was bouncing around like mad; its guidance systems and gyroscopic mechanisms were obviously completely destroyed—and Orbital Control itself. The supervisor then pointed a pudgy finger at a new item on the display. “What is that?”
Talik frowned. It wasn’t a Cardassian ship, which meant either an unregistered ship or a Klingon ship. Talik sincerely hoped it was the former. The last thing he wanted to do was get into a shouting match with a Klingon.
The new arrival just came into view from the blind spot. It was also on a course that would take it directly into the path of the Gratok,if both ships held course.
“Get that thing out of there, Talik,” Hamnod said.
Good thing you’re here, Inever would have thought of that,Talik thought as he opened a channel to the ship. He had heard a rumor that Hamnod spent most of his off-duty time with the very comfort women that Talik would never go near. Even if it wasn’t true, Talik had always taken it as gospel. It was certainly in character for the fat supervisor.
“Unidentified ship, this is Orbital Control. Please leave orbit immediately, we have a ship in distress, and we cannot guarantee your safety.”
There was no response from the ship, but Kater cut in. “Talik, our warp core’s going to go any minute, and I can’t get the ejection systems to function. I don’t think we’re gonna make it.”
“Yes, you are,” Talik said stupidly. “Just as soon as I get this ship out of the—”
“What ship? I’m blind out here.”
Hamnod had been doing a sensor check. “It’s a Forehead ship—the Chut.Passenger ship heading to Qo’noS.” The corpulent supervisor leaned into Talik’s comm unit. “Attention Chut,this is Orbital Control. If you do not change course immediately, you risk collision. Please, leave orbit now.”
“What? Great!”Kater’s voice was distant for those two words, then came on more clearly. “We think we’ve got the breach under control, Talik, but we still can’t change course.”
“Dammit,” Talik muttered. Whatever relief he felt at Kater’s continued survival was leavened by the continued presence of the Chut.The Klingon passenger liner was still on its standard orbital course, which would bring it slamming into the Gratokat one-eighth impulse in about seventy-five seconds.
“Chut,this is Cardassian Orbital Control.” Hamnod was practically shouting. “Veer off now,or you will be destroyed!” He pounded the console. “Why won’t they listen? Damned idiotic Foreheads…”
Talik tried to run a sensor scan on the Chut,but he wasn’t able to penetrate their shields. That was typical of the Klingons—trying to protect their secrets, Talik supposed, though what secrets a passenger liner could have was beyond him—but it made it all the more frustrating in circumstances like this. What if something’s wrong with them, too?Sadly, two vessels breaking down in orbit on the same day wouldn’t be out of character on Raknal V these days…
The Chutwas now one minute from colliding with the Gratok.“Why won’t they veer off? Just a two-degree course change would do it.” Talik leaned into his comm unit. “Kater, you’ve got to abandon ship. Those Klingons aren’t moving!” Then you’ll be forced to stay on Raknal V for a while,he thought. True, she’d be left without a ship, but at least she’d be alive. And maybe she would feel predisposed toward the man who did everything he could to save her…
“My people are getting to the escape pods now,”she said.
Talik didn’t like the sound of that. “Your people? What about you?”
“Ship-master goes down with the sinking ship, Talik—besides, we don’t have enough pods for everyone. I had to cut back to make more cargo room. I’m not about to make one of my people die for a financial choiceI made.”
This was ruining a perfectly good fantasy. “You can’t just die, dammit!”
“Then get those Klingons out of my way.”
Hamnod let out a breath that whistled through his nose. “We’re trying! Chut,you are now forty seconds from a catastrophic collision with a Cardassian freighter. Veer off now!”
The next forty seconds were the longest of Talik’s life. He found himself utterly riveted by the display in front of him, as the yellow light that indicated the drifting Gratokgrew closer and closer to the red light that indicated the leisurely pace of the Chut.Some smaller yellow lights appeared—those had to be the escape pods Kater mentioned. Talik noted that there were eight of them; freighters of the Gratok’s class usually had twelve two-person pods. Hamnod continued to shout implorations to the Chut,to no avail. The Klingon ship continued forward, its course unchanging.
The collision itself was almost anticlimactic, rendered as it was by the red light and the yellow light intersecting. A moment later, both lights went out.
If the Chutwas a typical Klingon passenger ship, it had the capacity to hold a hundred people, staff included. The Gratokhad a crew complement of twenty, at least sixteen of whom probably got out in the pods, though Talik had no way of telling if the pods survived being that close to the two ships annihilating each other. Plus, of course, the Gratokwas carrying a valuable zenite shipment.
“Get me Prefect Monor now,” Hamnod said.
And Kater Onell was dead.
“Talik!”
The flight controller shook his head and looked up at Hamnod’s fat face. “Hm?”
“I said get me Prefect Monor now!”The supervisor sighed. “It’s going to be a very very long night.”
“This outrage will not go unanswered, Qaolin!”
Governor Qaolin had already gone through the two bottles of bloodwine in his desk drawer, and was fervently wishing for a third as he stared at the outraged face of his Cardassian counterpart. I suppose I should be grateful that he is at least speaking to me. Usually I only get to talk to that imbecile aide of his.But the destruction of the Gratokand the Chutwas the worst of the recent disasters, and Qaolin wasn’t about to stand for going through an underling. Not with a hundred dead.
“Youdare call this an outrage, Monor? At least most of your people survived! There were ninety-eight Klingon nationals on the Chutwho died because of your incompetence!”
“Our Orbital Control Center did everything they could to get theChut to veer off. They refused to respond to us!”
“Convenient, is it not, Monor, that these exhortations only occurred after the Chutentered the one orbital section we could not scan from ourOrbital Control Center. Of course, we would have been able to verify your account if you had allowed us to put the boosters in place, or even accepted our offer to cooperate…”