Star Trek: Titan: Fortune of War by David Mack

Author:David Mack
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pocket Books

Sixteen

* * *

Tensions were high on the command deck of the Breen dreadnought Kulak, but so was confidence. Standing tall in front of its center seat, projecting calm, Thot Tren bared his fangs in a broad grin inside his snout-shaped mask—the same anonymous outer face worn by all but the youngest members of Breen society. Events were transpiring much as Tren had intended, with only one minor inconvenience—but even that wrinkle had been considered and prepared for.

Pictured on the main viewscreen was the Orion argosy Silago-Ekon, into whose crew he had months earlier insinuated one of his Spetzkar commandos. Tren’s superiors in the thotaru had criticized that move as a long shot, but now his gamble was paying off at last.

An alert on the communications panel. Signals officer Sevv muted it, then reported to Tren, “Incoming message from Spetzkar Proat. Audio only.”

“On speakers,” Tren said. He waited while Sevv rerouted the message.

“Repeat, this is Proat, on board the Silago-Ekon. Do you read me?”

“This is Thot Tren on the Kulak. Go ahead, Proat.” All around the dimly lit nerve center of the battleship, the other senior officers paused in their duties to hear Proat’s report.

Proat replied, “Mission accomplished. The Nausicaans recovered the Husnock codes, as expected, and then the Orions stole the codes and neutralized the Nausicaans. I’ve eliminated the Syndicate crew and destroyed their copy of the codes, meaning I now possess the only copy.”

“Good work, Proat. How soon can you deploy to the Husnock vessel?”

“I’m suiting up now. I’ll be ready to beam over in two minutes.”

Chot Vang, the first officer of the Kulak, interjected, “Be advised, Chot Braz and a Spetzkar team are already on board. They’ve defused a number of traps someone left behind.”

That news made Proat more curious than anxious. “Traps? Left by the Husnock?”

“Negative,” Vang said. “Most of them are of Ferengi design.”

“So, nothing to be concerned about—unlike our approaching visitors.”

Tren regarded the tactical screens that flanked the main viewscreen. “Leave them to me, Proat.” The left screen tracked the progress of the four rapidly approaching threat vessels, while the right cycled through ship profiles. All three Starfleet vessels had been identified by their energy signatures, but the fourth—a small Mancharan starhopper—was proving to be a mystery. “Deliver the Husnock codes to Chot Braz, then assist his unit in executing Phase Five.”

“Understood. Proat out.” The channel closed with a soft click.

Weapons Officer Bol looked up as the left tactical display updated with alarming new intel. “Thot Tren, the Starfleet vessels have increased speed. Revised ETA, eight minutes.”

“So I see. No doubt they accelerated as soon as their sensors detected us dropping our cloak.” Tren reflected on his past encounters with Starfleet, some of which predated the Dominion War. Before the war for the Alpha Quadrant, Tren would have said that Starfleet commanders had no stomachs for confrontation. Now he couldn’t be so certain. Starfleet’s veterans of the Dominion War could be unpredictable; many had been hardened by that conflict and tempered into dangerous blades. There was only one way for him to know which kind of officers he was facing today.

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