Jihad

"We lost them, my Lord."

It took a lot of restraint from N'Eligahn not to strike the man sitting at the tactical station. Nevetheless, the man cringed under the burning stare of his golden eyes. Without a word, he stepped back to the smiling Rethian woman in the command seat.

"Their shields were down and their propulsion damaged," she reminded him as they looked on the main viewer at the small field of debris dispersing with the last flashes of burning plasma before the awesome background of the Azimtuh Horizon's celestial fire. "Even if they managed to survive our last attack, these sinners will not last long inside Heaven's Fire."

He didn't say anything for a while. He knew from first hand experience that, without metaphasic shielding and pulse propulsion, no ship could wisthand for long or escape the plasma inferno and the huge neutronium debris swirling in the corona of the anomaly. Their first disruptor volley had succeeded in knocking out the shield grid of the USS Republic just as planned, and then, their following photon torpedo spread had succeeded in severely damaging their impulse engine. Since warp power was useless, even fatal within the Azimuth Horizon, this left the Excelsior class vessel powerless to survive or escape the fiery maelstrom where their frantic efforts to evade attack had plunged them in.

Yet, N'Eligahn felt uneasy. If anything, Starfleet officers might be fools, but still, they were resourceful. A few scattered debris was not enough to convince him that they had truly won.

"Have the convoy scan for them once they get inside the Horizon," he cautioned Ty'Renick. "Don't count them out until you see their lifeless, broken hull."

Visibly not convinced but nevertheless prudent enough, she nodded to their tactical officer who transmitted the order.

"Damage report!" she then asked with an authoritative tone.

A male voice came in from the intercom.

"Engineering here, My Lady. Warp speed is knocked out, one impulse reactor offline and a few targeting sensors burned out; damage to external plating. Repair teams have been sent."

"How long before repairs are completed?"

After a few seconds of silence, Ty'Renick repeated her question, a slight tone of impatience creeping in her voice.

"Engineering; I asked a question."

She was about to burst into an angry shout as silence again answered her for a few more seconds when, finally, the engineer at the other end of the comm responded:

"Sorry, My lady; as I said to Lord N'Eligahn when I left the bridge earlier on his order, no central comm down here you know... I had to contact each team in turn to get their..."

"I asked for a report, not excuses." she cut him off impatiently.

"Half an hour for warp; half that to bring the impulse engine back online. We still have two fully functional impulse engines."

"Hull plating?"

"Ah, well, even with transporter and replicator support, it would require half an hour of extravehicular work..."

"Send a team out," N'Eligahn then ordered.

" Err... now, My Lord? But... if we are attacked again..."

"We will need that armor," finished the Rethian coldly.

"My Lord..."

"Chief engineer; what is the First Truth?" suddenly asked Ty'Renick to the engineer over the comm channel.

"This universe was born out of Fire; and the light of the Heavenly Fire will show us the doorway to Paradise," immediately recited the man.

"And what is the Second Truth?" she asked then.

"The Prophet will come through the doorway and open it for all; and all who will listen to him and follow him over the Horizon will be The Blessed Children of the Horizon."

"And the Third Truth?"

"The needs of all Children... outweight the needs of the few... or the one," then answered meekly the voice of the man.

"Report when the work is done. See to it personally, Chief," ordered N'Eligahn before cutting off the communication.

Ty'renick sighed and opened another channel.

"Sickbay; casualty report."

"They are just starting to come in," replied a female voice this time. "I'll get back to you on that."

The Rethian woman gripped her armrests as her eyes became mere slits and her voice turned into a hiss.

"I want to know now, Doctor!"

"Make an internal sweep with ship sensors then!" shot back the woman's voice. "You're the one on the bridge, not I! This is a sickbay, not a damn command center! You'll get a report after they all report in... or finish dragging the bodies here! Sickbay out!"

Both former Starfleet officers on the command podium shared an angry glare but, before they could say anything else, the voice of their tactical operative rose in alarm:

"My Lady! Starship approaching sector at high warp... Defiant class!"

"The McKenzie..." simply said N'Eligahn, a smirk now stretching his orange-scaled face.

"Status, speed, vector and time of interception," demanded Ty'Renick.

"Status undetermined, coming at over warp 9.9, bearing from high port astern, ETA about five minutes!"

"This is sloppy report, tactical!" N'Eligahn said with a hard tone.

"Best we can do at this distance, My Lord! The anomaly's heavy subspace interference..."

"Battle stations!" interrupted the reptilian woman in the command chair. "Stay under cloak and begin outflanking maneuver as before. All escorts on planned triple interception course the moment they drop out of warp and begin their idiotic peacekeeping Starfleet routine."

"I know Captain Crist," N'Eligahn whispered to her then, as they prepared the same ambush that had caused the Republic's quick demise. "He's experienced but unimaginative. And he's not a meticulous planner, relying mostly on instinct like all good Starfleet captains... if there is such a thing anymore. Surprising him will not be difficult... and he barely have five dozen people on board his ship... or so he thinks."

"Well then," suddenly retorted his lover with a growing, cruel smile, " our martyrs will be most successful. All of them... everywhere they are."