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6642 lines
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From cwynne@liberty.uc.wlu.edu Tue Jan 12 15:51:30 1993
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["41192" "Tue" "12" "January" "1993" "16:50:35" "+0500" "\"Colin J. Wynne\"" "cwynne@liberty.uc.wlu.edu" nil "843" "GhostsFromThePast.1" "^From:" nil nil "1"])
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From: "Colin J. Wynne" <cwynne@liberty.uc.wlu.edu>
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To: asc <jfy@cis.ksu.edu>
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Subject: GhostsFromThePast.1
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Date: Tue, 12 Jan 1993 16:50:35 +0500 (EST)
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This story is property of:
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Colin J. Wynne
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P.O. Box 4661
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Lexington, VA 24450
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(703) 464-4030
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cwynne@liberty.uc.wlu.edu
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Permission is given to distribute this story freely as long as this header
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is included with all files/hardcopies/electronic postings.
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--------------------------------------------------------------------------
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This story was begun the summer after second season, before much technical
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material for TNG was available, so most of the tech herein comes from
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semi- or less-official quarters, along with the Paramount Second Season
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Writers'/Directors' Guide, which seems to since have been forgotten.
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Also, the third season episode, "Yesterday's Enterprise" kind of does
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nasty things to the continuity that I've presented, but what the hey!
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It's not like this is canon or anything! Enjoy, and feel free to email me
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with any comments you have.
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--CJW
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================================================================================
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"Ghosts from the Past," Prologue through Ch. 2:
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-----------------------------------------------
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PROLOGUE
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"Starbase 67 to U.S.S. Enterprise."
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Captain Valeriy Alexandrovich Romanov turned to his
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Communications Officer. "On speakers, Lieutenant."
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"Aye, sir."
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"This is Captain Romanov; we are receiving."
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"Captain, this is Admiral Grissom. I'm afraid I just
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returned to the base and discovered that I had missed your
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layover."
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"I fear that fate has conspired against us once again,
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Admiral."
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"Either that, Valeriy, or you've been avoiding me since that
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last furlough on Shore Leave Planet."
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Romanov allowed a brief laugh at that. "Well, Admiral, I
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believe it was your idea to conjure a-"
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"Yes, well, that's all in the past now," the flag officer
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said hurriedly, with a glance around the Enterprise's bridge.
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Duty officers began to concentrate very hard on not eavesdropping
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- which, of course, meant they were. "It seems, Valeriy, that we
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shall have to wait until you return again after this mission
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before I shall see you. Good Luck."
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"Thank you, Admiral. Enterprise out."
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Romanov flicked his hand in a gesture that the Communications
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Officer interpreted, correctly, to mean 'close channels'. Grissom
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was Valeriy's superior in rank, if not age. Grissom had been a
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successful captain, but had completely lost the desire for front
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line command. Three years before, his ship had come very near to
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destruction while on a routine patrol, and only his skill had
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saved most of the crew.
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That act earned him a commendation, and, very soon
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afterwards, chance for promotion. Karl Grissom had eagerly taken
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that opportunity, deciding that a desk assignment was a much
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better alternative for nerves that had been made unbelievably
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tense after eight years of starship duty.
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Valeriy had turned down the same promotion not three months
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after. He liked command, and didn't want to give it up. That
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left him as one of the most senior active captains in Starfleet.
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That, in turn, led to the fact that Romanov pulled some very
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choice assignments. For the past two-and-a-half years, as a
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result, he had been commanding the Alaska class battlecruiser for
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the first part of its ten-year Survey Mission.
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Transwarp technology was coming to the fleet slowly, mostly
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due to the initial bad reputation received after a certain Fleet
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Engineer's tampering with the prototype model. So now, with the
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galaxy mostly at peace and the Federation-Klingon war over, the
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Exploration Fleet's Constitution II Class (or, more commonly,
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Enterprise Class, after Romanov's ship's namesake and once
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Starfleet flagship) heavy cruisers were being refitted for the new
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technology, and E-Fleet had borrowed ships from the Planetary
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Defense Fleet for its missions.
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Romanov was an exploration captain in the truest sense, but
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he had also been a captain during the War (and God let it be the
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last, he added to himself) and liked the extra protection afforded
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by a battlecruiser, the very same class of ships that had pulled
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many a destroyer captain's fat out of the fire - out of Klingon
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disruptor fire. He shuddered minutely as a few very personal
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examples of such things raced through his mind. Valeriy reached
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his arms out and gripped the arms of his command chair, not sure
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whether he was paying his ship a compliment, or seeking
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reassurance from - from what?
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The captain was brought away from his thoughts and the
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captivating starscape on the main viewer. He was surprised at how
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fresh and invigorating he could still find that view, after
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eighteen years in space.
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"Captain," repeated the Science Officer, her voice not quite
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belying an uneasiness that she felt.
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"What is it?"
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"Sensors indicate some sort of a disturbance ahead. It's an
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area effect. Contact in thirty-eight seconds."
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"Elaborate."
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"Unable to, as of yet, sir. Thirty-two seconds."
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"Helm, full stop."
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"Aye, aye, sir. Full stop."
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He turned his chair again towards the Science Officer. "Now
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you have time. Details, mister."
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"Yes, sir. Long range sensors show an unknown energy
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reading, several million kilometres distant. It is apparently
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some form of hyperspace energy, sir."
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"Meaning?"
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"It registers, for lack of a better description, as a
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distortion in space-time, sir. Meaning, that I cannot determine
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precisely what is happening inside the zone."
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"Hmmm. How large is it, Lieutenant?"
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She peered intently at one of the readouts. "Approximately
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fifty billion cubic kilometres in volume, sir."
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"Helm bring us to within one hundred thousand klicks. Warp
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3."
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"Aye, aye, sir. Warp 3."
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For the next two minutes, Enterprise dashed through space,
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ending up within detailed scanning range of the affected zone.
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Valeriy focused his attention entirely on the main viewer, and he
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saw what he thought was an unrealistic sheen to a small area ahead
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of them. "Almost looks like a cloaking device effect."
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"That big?" asked the navigator.
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"I said 'looked like'. Now pipe down, and put it at maximum
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magnification."
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The globular shape suddenly filled half of the viewer.
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Against the blackness of space, Romanov could see only a faint
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rippling motion passing through the stars, like looking close to a
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tarmac on a hot day.
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"Sensors?"
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"Inconclusive, sir. Same energy pattern, but attempts at
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detailed scanning are reflected off of the zone, as though the
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disturbance creates some form of barrier."
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"Prepare a probe."
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"Aye, sir." Pause. "Ready for launch, sir."
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"Fire."
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The main viewer switched, now. It became a noseview from the
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probe. While his Science Officer made sense of the heiroglyphic
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telemetry readings coming at her station, Valeriy took in the
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visual. The shimmer soon eclipsed the entire view, and someone
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announced penetration. The probe bucked slightly, but held its
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course, moving for the center of the disturbance.
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The captain thought he saw something briefly at the view's
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periphery, as though the star pattern changed abruptly, but it was
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too fleeting a look to be sure. Then the screen became static.
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"Contact lost, sir."
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"Reason?"
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"The strange energy reading jumped off the scale, and then
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contact was just completely severed."
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"Replay the visual, slowly."
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The replay picked up moments before the probe's demise.
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There was nothing out of the ordinary, until suddenly the screen
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went completely blank, and the stars jumped. A blinding white
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flash immediately preceded the end.
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"Sir, look!"
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He did. Valeriy snapped his head up and saw it. All
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throughout the zone, the stars were making instantaneous
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kaleidoscopic changes. The entire disturbance collapsed back in
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on itself, but before the captain could give the next order, the
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Science Officer announced, "New disturbance forming, Captain, dead
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aft and expanding." She looked up. It will overtake us!"
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Valeriy addressed the Helm. "Emerge-" Romanov didn't finish
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the sentence. The ship bucked hard, and Valeriy's teeth cleaved
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into his tongue as his body bounced off the chairback. The ship
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had automatically gone to Red Alert.
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"Shields activated, weapons coming to power. Torpedoes
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ready."
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"Damage reports coming in. Casualties on decks twelve
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through sixteen."
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"How bad?"
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"Four dead, a dozen wounded. Damage minimal."
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"Stand down weapons; save the power for manoeuvring."
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"Captain, sensor report."
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"Yes, Lieutenant?"
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"Strong energy disturbances in the local continuum are
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causing distortions of space. This area is highly unstable."
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The ship lurched again. "Sir!" shouted the navigator, almost
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hysterically.
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"Calm down, everybody," said Valeriy, his tone between
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lulling and ordering. Then he saw what had so disturbed the
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navigator.
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Directly in front of the ship, there was a growing patch of
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black. It spread, and as its size increased, so did its pull on
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the ship. Then, through the blackness, he could see stars. Not
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the same stars that the malign growth was blocking, though. They
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were different stars.
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"Full reverse! Get us out of here."
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Enterprise slowed, then stopped, relative to the maw that was
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trying to swallow her. Finally, she began to move backward,
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gaining speed. But the opening was still getting bigger, and more
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powerful. Enterprise was slowing again, and now it was all the
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Helmsman could do to maintain her position.
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"Full power, now, sir. Escape appears to be impossible." He
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was visibly and audibly more calm than the officer to his right
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who had been near a breakdown moments before.
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"What is it?" he asked the Science Officer.
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"The extreme effect of the energy, sir. A total breakdown of
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the local continuum, a sort of 'rip' into...somewhere else."
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"Where?"
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"No recognisable place, sir. The star patterns are not on
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record.
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"Wait! The rip is shrinking again, sir!"
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"Thank God," Valeriy breathed, for the ship was starting to
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be dragged forward again.
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An intercom tone beeped at Romanov's arm. He punched the
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button. "Captain here."
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"Engineering. Sir, engines are under terrible strain. The
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ship's structure can't physically take much more of this."
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"It's almost over, Chief. Out."
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But even as the first rip was sealing itself off from what
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Romanov knew as his reality, another opened close abeam. Valeriy
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knew they were in trouble.
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"Communications, send a distress signal to Starbase 67. Let
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me hail."
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"Channel open, sir."
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"Starbase 67, this is U.S.S. Enterprise, Romanov commanding.
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We are being buffetted by strange energies that-"
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The Communications board exploded in a shower of sparks, and
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the operator barely had time to roll free as the console drove
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into the headrest of his seat. Simultaneously, the bridge blacked
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out, and red emergency lighting came on. Fans whirred to clear
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the acrid smoke.
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The Chief Engineer called again. "Severe system overloads,
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sir. Structural stress too. The drives are going to give out as
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well."
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"Can't help it, Chief. We're in trouble.
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"Helm, situation.?"
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"Just barely holding, sir. Oh, no! All power gone!"
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Even as he finished the sentence, U.S.S. Enterprise shot
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forward into the rip. There was a tremendous white flash, and,
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although the ship wasn't slowed at all, every crewmember felt as
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though they had run straight into a bulkhead. Dazed, Romanov
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looked up through red-tinted eyes.
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He realised he was starting to get tunnel vision, but was
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helpless. Valeriy's chest was feeling tight, and, just before he
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fell unconscious, he realised that all his senses had failed him.
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He was in a complete void.
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CHAPTER I
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"Starbase 42 to U.S.S. Enterprise."
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"On screen," ordered Captain Picard.
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The majestic stellar flow on the main view screen was
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suddenly replaced by the features of the commanding officer of the
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Enterprise's destination starbase. He was a jovial looking man,
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well along in years, but the wrinkles of age were clearly
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distinguished from the deep laugh lines around his mouth and eyes.
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"Starbase, this is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the U.S.S.
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Enterprise. It is an honor to meet you, Commodore Blackwell. How
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can I help you?"
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"Ah, Captain Picard. My staff is in final preparations to
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receive your passenger. They are hounding me as to the exact time
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of your arrival, and it would seem that the burden for answering
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that must fall to you."
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Picard joined him in a laugh. "I understand perfectly,
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Commodore. Our current ETA is four hours, twenty-three minutes.
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Perhaps now they will stop nipping at your heels."
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"Indeed, Captain. Thank you, and I look forward to your
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arrival. Starbase 42 out."
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The screen returned to its usual pattern. First Officer
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William Riker inclined his head slightly towards Picard. "I have
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no difficulty empathising with their anxiousness for the arrival
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of 'our passenger'."
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"Nor do I, Number One."
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Just then, the main turbolift door slid open. The passenger
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was standing in the doorway. "Permission to enter the bridge,
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Captain?"
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Picard rose to walk over to his guest. "Of course, Dr.
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Crusher. You need hardly ask!"
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The Enterprise's former Chief Medical Officer beamed a wide
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smile. "Dr. Pulaski just chased me out of sickbay. I suppose that
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after all the time I've been spending down there preparing my
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presentations, I can't blame her."
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"Nonsense. I can't think of a reason to shun your company
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after you have been so long absent from us, Doctor."
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"Well, if you feel that way, Captain, then why don't you join
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me for a while in Ten-Forward?"
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Taciturn Captain Picard opened his mouth to decline. "There
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is just too much that-"
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"Mr. Data," said Riker from his bridge chair. "Anything on
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long range sensors?"
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"No, sir."
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"Any sign of trouble with the ship?"
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"No, sir."
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"Are we still on course?"
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"Hint taken, Number One. You have the conn."
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Riker smiled up at his Captain. "Thank you, sir."
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Picard and Dr. Crusher had found a seat near one of the
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lounge's huge viewing ports, a clearsteel section of wall
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extending from floor to ceiling.
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The stars rushed at them, appearing to pass only narrowly
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away from them down the side of the ship.
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"You know, Captain, that despite my years of duty, I still
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have hardly had time to appreciate the beauty of this."
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"Yes. Having myself been practically weaned in the
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atmosphere of a starship's bridge, I have always been in a
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position to take in the view."
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The Doctor nodded agreement. "The sickbay does not afford
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the best view aboard ship."
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The two of them sat in relative silence for a few moments,
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until the Doctor spoke again. Despite the fact that, as Chief of
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Starfleet Medicine, she outranked him in both appointment and
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grade, neither had ever thought of referring to the other as
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other than 'Captain' or 'Doctor'. It just didn't seem quite
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right.
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"Captain, I confess that I had ulterior motives in asking you
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here. I have a favor to ask."
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Picard found himself slightly disappointed by this
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revelation, but he wasn't sure why. "What may I do for you,
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Doctor?"
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She chose now to address him by his first name. "I haven't
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seen any of the crew since I took my promotion. More
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importantly, I've not seen my son since then, either.
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"Jean-Luc, he won't ask you this, because he thinks that it's
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contrary to his responsibilities as an officer, but could you
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grant him a temporary reassignment as my aide for the duration of
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my stay at the Starbase?"
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Picard looked at her, stared intently at her soft blue eyes.
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It was obvious that this was important to her. Of course,
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Starfleet couldn't dismiss every officer from his duties whenever
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his family was in the same sector, but there were several reasons
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why he was not planning on refusing this request:
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1) This was the Chief Of Starfleet Medical making the
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request. 2) Acting-Ensign Crusher had not taken any leave since
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his appointment, and was not going to be unduly necessary during
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the ship's next assignment, and 3) How could he disappoint her
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when she was looking at him that way?
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"Doctor, I would be more than happy to offer Ensign Crusher a
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choice of temporary reassignment."
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"Thank you, Captain!" Her face practically glowed, and
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Picard, too, smiled at her joy.
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"Acting-Ensign Crusher, please report to the Captain's ready
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room."
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Wes looked up from the tech-manual he was studying for his
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Advanced Warp Engineering Theory class, thankful for the reprieve.
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He was at the turbolift almost before the display had faded from
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the viewer.
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Thirty seconds later, he was at the ready room door.
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"Come."
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"Acting-Ensign Crusher reporting as ordered, Captain."
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"Mr. Crusher, I have here the latest report on your studies.
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You are doing very well in classes, I must say."
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"Thank you, sir."
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"Well enough, in fact, that you may have earned yourself a
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bit of a break.
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"I am offering you a temporary posting to Starbase 42 as
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personal aide to the Chief of Starfleet Medicine who, as you know,
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will be lecturing and making several presentations there."
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This took Wes slightly by surprise. He was, at the same
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time, both happy for this chance, and angry that his mother had so
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obviously interfered in this. It was the latter that prompted his
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reply.
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"Sir, I think it would be selfish of me to accept such a task
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in light of my duties to this ship and to you."
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Picard had expected as much. He didn't know whether to
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commend the youth for his tenacity, or shoot him with a phaser on
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stun for being so stubborn. "Your loyalty is appreciated and
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noted. Yes, you are duty-bound to the Enterprise, but, as an
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officer in training are you not, in a larger sense, responsible to
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Starfleet?"
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Wes could see that the Captain was trying to cajole him, and,
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even worse, manipulate him through his own sense of duty, but he
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wasn't sure where the Captain's line of argument was headed.
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"Yes, sir..." he said, hesitantly.
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"Then, as an officer of Starfleet, is not your responsibility
|
|
to familiarise yourself with as much of its workings as possible?
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"I am not simply offering you a vacation, Mr. Crusher. There
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would be no sense in that. However, to offer you the
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responsibility of both being aide to a ranking Starfleet officer
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and familiarising yourself with normal Starbase procedures, that
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is worth your while."
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|
Wes found himself unable to argue. "Sir, under those
|
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conditions, I accept assignment to Starbase 42."
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|
"Excellent. I expect you to report to either myself or Cmdr.
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Riker before your departure. Dismissed."
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Dr. Crusher had not unpacked a great deal of her belongings
|
|
for the five day journey from her last stopover. For several
|
|
months, she, with a small entourage of medical specialists, had
|
|
been lecturing at various bases and outposts concerning the latest
|
|
in Federation medical advances. She had taken on a great deal of
|
|
this work herself, because, as a corollary, the recent events of
|
|
alien parasites taking over human hosts was being handled top
|
|
secretly.
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|
So there was very little for her to be doing in these last
|
|
few hours before her departure. She suspected that Jean-Luc had
|
|
somehow arranged for the Enterprise to be the most available ship
|
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to transport her on this latest leg of her journey, an found that
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|
she didn't mind that at all. If only the Captain - she still
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|
thought of him as such, despite her promotion - weren't so damned
|
|
stoic! The exchange shortly before in Ten-Forward was about the
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most loquacious she had gotten him since she had been aboard.
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|
But, she could tell, in his own way, he was trying to be as
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|
accomodating and, well, friendly, as possible. She was certainly
|
|
sorry to be leaving the Enterprise again, but perhaps she would be
|
|
able to visit again, someday soon.
|
|
The doorchime sounded. "Come in," she said pleasantly. The
|
|
door slid open to reveal Wesley standing in the corridor. "Hi,
|
|
Wes. Come on in!"
|
|
Wesley walked forward with an offhand, "Hi, Mom." He was
|
|
waiting to see if she would bring up the reassignment.
|
|
"Want to help me with my packing, Wes?"
|
|
"Looks like there's not much left to do," he replied, after a
|
|
cursory glance around the room.
|
|
"Well, there's some last minute things that need doing," she
|
|
said, securing a spare uniform in her carrying case as an example.
|
|
Isn't he going to say anything? I heard the Captain page him.
|
|
Several more minutes of smalltalk passed between them, before
|
|
the doctor queried, "Didn't I hear the Captain calling you
|
|
before?"
|
|
As if she didn't know! "Yes, Mom."
|
|
"What was it about?" she asked, innocently.
|
|
Wes had had enough. He had decided to go, but it still
|
|
bothered him about his mother's blatant interference. "I think
|
|
you know," he snapped.
|
|
Uh-oh. "Wes, I only made a suggestion to him. I knew you
|
|
weren't going to-"
|
|
"Why can't you let me handle my own life, my own career? I
|
|
do have my own responsibilities, as much as you have yours!"
|
|
Wesley realised that he was yelling and changed his tone
|
|
suddenly. "I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't mean to- It's just that,"
|
|
and as he finished, he looked up at his mother with much the same
|
|
look she had given Picard but an hour earlier, "as much as I've
|
|
missed you, I don't want you to try and..." He didn't have the
|
|
words to finish.
|
|
Now the doctor could finally get a word in edgewise. Her
|
|
tone was somewhat forceful. "Look, Wes. As much as we both have
|
|
our separate duties, I still have trouble with us being apart,
|
|
with my son living a life without me. And I don't see anything
|
|
wrong with trying to get you into my life when I can, for whatever
|
|
time I can.
|
|
"And besides, this isn't neglecting your duties! It's just
|
|
another facet of them. Oh God, sometimes your just as stubborn
|
|
as-"
|
|
"As Dad?" offered Wes, thoroughly cowed.
|
|
She took her son into her arms. "Yes, as your dad."
|
|
"I'm sorry."
|
|
"I suppose I am, too. Now do you want to help me pack?"
|
|
Wes smiled. "You bet!"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Enterprise's viewscreen was now filled with the looming shape
|
|
of the Starbase, a tremendous disc thousands of metres wide with
|
|
spherical hangars placed in a regular hexagon around it. Starbase
|
|
42 was an early model Starbase, placed when the Federation-Klingon
|
|
border was relatively unknown and definitely hostile. Its massive
|
|
shape was layered with defence grids and practically bristling
|
|
with phasers and photon torpedo batteries. Picard knew that at
|
|
least one of the modules was probably filled with fighter-
|
|
shuttles.
|
|
The functional grey thermal-coat exterior hearkened back to
|
|
days a century before, in the age of the original Enterprise. It
|
|
was such a far cry from the graceful elongated top shape in pearl
|
|
and soft blues that characterised more modern fixtures, such as
|
|
Terra's very own orbiting Spacedock.
|
|
Mr. Crusher was preparing for his departure, so it was
|
|
another helmsman that Picard now addressed. "Hold position for
|
|
final docking instructions. Mr. Worf, hail the Starbase."
|
|
"Starbase 42 welcomes Enterprise. We now have control of
|
|
your ship for docking. Enjoy the ride."
|
|
It was the standard phrase, showing both courtesy and the
|
|
fact that Starbase was now fully responsible for the ship, like
|
|
handing someone an axe and having them say 'thank you'. The ship
|
|
hovered in space for half of a rotation, then, from the third
|
|
module, a tractor beam grabbed the Galaxy class starship, and
|
|
gracefully tugged it along.
|
|
Orbits matched, the leading edge of the dock swung open. The
|
|
tractor beam increased its pull on the ship, easing it in front of
|
|
the doors, and, a minute later, the hatch was sealing and an
|
|
umbilical was connecting with Enterprise's main dorsal.
|
|
"Docking complete."
|
|
"Not a bad docking for an old station," mused Riker.
|
|
"Indeed, Number One. Take the conn. I'm going to escort our
|
|
passengers aboard the station."
|
|
"Of course, Captain."
|
|
Picard detected a hint of something in Riker's voice. It
|
|
came up whenever the captain had dealings with the medical
|
|
delegation and...Dr. Crusher. As the turbolift doors closed,
|
|
Picard pondered its meaning.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Wesley was in the middle of telling his mother all that had
|
|
happened since she had left the ship, when the Captain announced
|
|
himself at the door.
|
|
"Enter," said Dr. Crusher.
|
|
"Hello, Doctor. Mr. Crusher, all prepared for your new
|
|
assignment?"
|
|
"Yes, sir."
|
|
"Very good. Well, Doctor, we've arrived and it appears that
|
|
the base medical staff is eagerly awaiting your arrival."
|
|
"We'd best not keep them waiting then. I'm going over first
|
|
to break the diplomatic ice, and, after I've found out where we
|
|
can store our equipment, I'll call for the rest of my team. Is
|
|
that all right, Captain?"
|
|
"Yes, Doctor. May I offer to join you?"
|
|
"I'd be delighted, Captain. Come on, Wes."
|
|
"Okay, Mom," he said, jumping to his feet. All the thrills
|
|
of potential new experiences were running through his mind now.
|
|
The trio walked the corridors of the Enterprise, headed for
|
|
the main gangway, Picard with a Crusher on either side.
|
|
"So, Doctor, are you looking forward to your visit on the
|
|
Klingon border?"
|
|
"Yes. This stop should prove most interesting. My research
|
|
staff has made some wonderful advances in treating Klingons, and
|
|
I'm very happy to introduce them someplace where they may well be
|
|
used."
|
|
"That's outstanding news for both the Federation and the
|
|
Klingons, isn't it?"
|
|
"Yes," she agreed. She had thought they would have more
|
|
interesting things to talk about before she left, but all too
|
|
soon, they were at the ship's outer hull, ready to leave.
|
|
The gangway slowly receded into the ship's hull, revealing a
|
|
long telescoping corridor to the inside of the station proper.
|
|
Using an old and well-practiced trick, the end of the corridor
|
|
nearer the base had a lower pressure, so that the three
|
|
practically floated across the distance.
|
|
At the other end, they were met by Commodore Blackwell and
|
|
several of his officers, dressed in medical blue.
|
|
"Commodore Blackwell." Picard extended his hand.
|
|
"Ah, Captain Picard I presume?"
|
|
"Yes, sir. A pleasure. May I present to you Dr. Beverly
|
|
Crusher, and her personal assistant, Ensign Wesley Crusher."
|
|
"Indeed? Is there-"
|
|
"Yes, sir, he's my son." She too extended her hand, as did
|
|
Wesley.
|
|
Greetings thoroughly exchanged, the Commodore offered, "We
|
|
had best show you your accommodations, Doctor. Then we can go
|
|
about getting the rest of your staff aboard.
|
|
"Of course, sir." She turned her attention to the Captain.
|
|
"Well, Jean-Luc, I guess this is good-bye for now. I'll see you
|
|
in a week when Enterprise comes to pick me up."
|
|
"Yes, Doctor. I'll look forward to it."
|
|
The Crushers' departed down the corridor with the Commodore's
|
|
officers. "Oh, Captain."
|
|
"Yes, sir?"
|
|
He handed Picard a sealed envelope that one of the departing
|
|
officers had handed him.
|
|
"I have your new orders for you, courtesy of Starfleet."
|
|
Picard was curious about the actual orders packet. Normally,
|
|
mission orders were sent by subspace directly to the ship's
|
|
computer.
|
|
"Thank you, sir."
|
|
"Well, good luck Captain Picard. I must be seeing to my
|
|
guests."
|
|
"Of, course, sir. Good-bye."
|
|
Picard pivoted and returned to his ship.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
CHAPTER II
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Captain's Log, Stardate 42914.3: The Enterprise has
|
|
received rather an interesting assignment, and it is now apparent
|
|
why we were asked to bring Dr. Crusher to Starbase 42 near the
|
|
Klingon border.
|
|
"In an effort to integrate the operation of Starfleet and
|
|
Klingon ships, the Enterprise is to be the referee in a series of
|
|
joint training exercises over the course of the next week.
|
|
"The first test simulates a standard exploratory patrol in
|
|
which the two patrols, one commanded by a Klingon, the other by a
|
|
Starfleet officer, each commanding a mixed group of starships,
|
|
must analyse a new star system. All results will be coordinated
|
|
and simulated by the Enterprise."
|
|
"Mr. Worf, have the two groups reported in yet?"
|
|
"Aye, sir. They are both prepared to begin the exercise."
|
|
"Very good. Patch me through to the Federation commander."
|
|
"Channel open, sir."
|
|
"This is Starfleet Command to U.S.S. Anubis. You are to
|
|
divert from your assigned patrol immediately to explore a recently
|
|
charted star system. Coordinates to follow.
|
|
"Mr. Worf, transmit coordinates and close channels. You know
|
|
your part."
|
|
"Aye, sir."
|
|
Behind the captain and his first officer, Lt. Worf was
|
|
repeating the exact same speech in Klingonese to the Klingon
|
|
expedition commander, pretending to be Admiralty, Klingon Grand
|
|
Fleet.
|
|
Riker leaned to his captain. "I do believe our Mr. Worf has
|
|
a flair for the dramatic."
|
|
Picard smiled. "It would appear so, Commander."
|
|
Mr. Worf announced, "Both forces approaching this system,
|
|
Captain. The Klingon force is proceeding slightly faster."
|
|
"Being a little hasty, wouldn't you think, Captain?"
|
|
Before Picard's open mouth could speak his response, Worf
|
|
countered, "Or, perhaps a Klingon takes a specific mission order
|
|
from his superiors more seriously, sir."
|
|
The Captain heaved an exaggerated sigh. "Mr. Worf, are you
|
|
allowing prejudices to creep into your duty or just simply rooting
|
|
for one of the teams in a highly undisciplined style?"
|
|
The Klingon security officer brought himself to his full,
|
|
imposing height. "Neither, sir. Simply offering rationale from a
|
|
Klingon perspective."
|
|
Riker grinned. "Thank you, Lieutenant. That will be most
|
|
helpful in this operation."
|
|
Captain Picard spoke for the benefit of the crew. "Each
|
|
group should scan the system and find that the second planet shows
|
|
traces of technological developments, but no life."
|
|
"Both squadrons have now arrived. They are conducting
|
|
preliminary scans."
|
|
Riker contemplated his knowledge of Klingons, having served
|
|
under one as part of an exchange programme, versus what he himself
|
|
would do. "Captain, I bet that the Klingon group will go straight
|
|
for the planet while the Federation commander orders a more
|
|
detailed scan of the system."
|
|
"Incorrect, sir," said Worf from almost directly overhead.
|
|
"Federation commander is proceeding, Klingon commander using
|
|
tactical scanners."
|
|
Riker was taken aback.
|
|
"Lieutenant," asked Picard, "has either group reported yet?"
|
|
"The Human commander announced the find and his intention to
|
|
explore it more closely. The Klingon is looking for potential
|
|
tactical dangers."
|
|
Riker still didn't like his completely incorrect appraisal of
|
|
the situation. "What next, Captain?" he asked by way of changing
|
|
the subject.
|
|
"There are automated defenses in orbit, on the ground, and on
|
|
the moon. They are quite powerful, but can be overcome."
|
|
The Enterprise was below the plane of the star system,
|
|
looking up at planet two and the approaching ships. Although the
|
|
Federation commanded group arrived first, they held back at quite
|
|
a distance. They were launching a probe.
|
|
The Klingon's group, however, put a scout ship in the point
|
|
and decelerated directly into a standard orbit. That was a
|
|
mistake.
|
|
"Sir, Klingon Commander's lead ship has been struck by a
|
|
volley of fire from the moon. And again."
|
|
Riker walked to the upper level of the bridge and to the
|
|
Sciences Console recessed into the aft wall. "They're not
|
|
retreating. Ah! He's ordered a globe formation, with the
|
|
flagship in the middle. Performing a life scan on the moon.
|
|
Results negative. They're firing. Moon base destroyed."
|
|
Now Worf was reporting on the other group. "Moon defences
|
|
have destroyed the probe. The remaining ships are analysing the
|
|
defences."
|
|
"The satellites have fired on the same ship. Simulated heavy
|
|
damage. They are responding. Other ships are conducting a
|
|
surface scan."
|
|
"It would seem that Commander Krond has gotten into a bit
|
|
of trouble," observed the Captain.
|
|
"Not entirely, Captain," said Worf.
|
|
Riker looked up. "Krond's force has downed the last
|
|
satellite and is working on the ground forces right now. But his
|
|
scout appears to be crippled."
|
|
Worf spoke. "Captain D'Arby's ships have sent a computer
|
|
override signal. The defences have been deactivated."
|
|
"Hardly an even exchange," commented the Captain. "A probe
|
|
for a scout ship."
|
|
Presently, both forces were moving into orbit for a planetary
|
|
survey.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The Klingon scout ship Sentinel lay in simulated chaos. Most
|
|
of the bridge stations had been shut down by the computer to
|
|
simulate damage. Although the secondary Tactical Sciences Monitor
|
|
was still nominally functional, its operator, Technician First
|
|
Class Kevar wore a bright red battle casualty symbol on his
|
|
breastplate.
|
|
Through the computer induced snow and static on his screen,
|
|
there was visible a small target on the long range set, somewhere
|
|
in the next solar system. He was sure it hadn't been there
|
|
previously. It puzzled him.
|
|
Momentarily forgetting himself, he turned to his commanding
|
|
officer. "Sir, contact bearing three-"
|
|
"Kevar, have you forgotten that you are dead, or do you
|
|
simply not know how to behave properly in such a situation?" His
|
|
tone was not forgiving.
|
|
"Sir, I-"
|
|
"Shut up, Kevar! Guard, remove the Science Officer to the
|
|
brig until the end of this simulation, so that his resurrection
|
|
will not interfere in this training.
|
|
"And, Lieutenant, do you not even know how to tell an anomaly
|
|
on a damaged unit from an actual sighting?"
|
|
The Commander suddenly longed for the days when all Klingons
|
|
carried agonisers to facilitate immediate discipline.
|
|
"Ensign!" The Second Class Tech jumped. "Man tactical.
|
|
Now!"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The landing parties quickly located the place of interest on
|
|
the planet: an ancient, temple-like building containing a
|
|
computer system that held vast amounts of knowledge. The
|
|
remainder of the task for the two commanders was to somehow secure
|
|
the knowledge therein for return to their respective home
|
|
territories.
|
|
"Easier said than done, Commander Riker. The scenario for
|
|
this training mission states that any attempt to retrieve all of
|
|
the data at once could be...disastrous."
|
|
"How so, Captain."
|
|
"I think, Number One, that we will probably see for
|
|
ourselves."
|
|
"Reports coming in now, sir," announced Lt. Worf.
|
|
"Starfleet Command, this is Captain D'Arby of the Anubis."
|
|
Picard assumed his role again. "We are receiving, Captain.
|
|
Report."
|
|
"We have discovered an extensive data bank on the second
|
|
planet of the system. We are about to beam the information aboard
|
|
my flagship's computers. Oh my God! <static>"
|
|
"I see what you mean, Captain."
|
|
Worf spoke again. "Report from Krond, sir." For several
|
|
minutes, Worf and Krond's voice exchanged guttural syllables of
|
|
Klingonese.
|
|
"Captain, Commander Krond reports information stored in the
|
|
several Federation ships under his command. They are ready for
|
|
departure."
|
|
"Tell him the simulation is over and standby for analysis.
|
|
"How is Captain D'Arby faring?"
|
|
"Signal from U.S.S. Mitchell, under D'Arby's command."
|
|
"Starfleet, Anubis has been crippled. Total computer systems
|
|
failure occurred when the data was transmitted. We have broken
|
|
the information down and recorded separately among the remaining
|
|
ships. Standing by to evacuate the flagship. Request a fleet tug
|
|
to return Anubis to nearest Starbase."
|
|
"Mr. Worf, respond and inform them that the simulation is
|
|
over. Have the two commanders come aboard for analysis."
|
|
"Aye, sir."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Several hours later, Picard was able to at last retreat to
|
|
his quarters. He had spent the last two hundred and forty minutes
|
|
going over, in minute detail, the entire simulation with Captain
|
|
D'Arby and Commander Krond.
|
|
The amusing part was that the end result was virtually a tie.
|
|
Only on Starfleet's numerical grading system did any actual
|
|
difference show up. Both groups had lost a ship, and both had
|
|
retrieved the data as necessary. Only because the Anubis was a
|
|
flag ship and a cruiser, as opposed to the small scout ship
|
|
Sentinel, was Krond declared the 'winner'.
|
|
What Picard found most interesting was his First Officer's
|
|
complete misreading of the two groups' tactics. It was
|
|
simultaneously humourous and disconcerting.
|
|
As Picard laid himself down for a night's sleep, he decided
|
|
that it didn't matter, and looked forward to administering the
|
|
next exam to the two commanders.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The collection of ships had moved to a nearby star system for
|
|
the second simulation. It was an odd system, possessed of only
|
|
one blue giant sun - no planets, asteroids, or anything. It was
|
|
an unnaturally sterile place.
|
|
This day's game would be a true test to the two officers,
|
|
thought Picard. They were to play a game of hide and seek, each
|
|
group with its own mission kept secret from the other group.
|
|
Whoever made contact and achieved their goal first was the winner.
|
|
Krond's group was supposed to gather scientific information on the
|
|
system and the other ships, while D'Arby was told that he was to
|
|
establish diplomatic contact with a hostile force.
|
|
To begin the game, Krond's group broke for the other side of
|
|
the system's star.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Lieutenant Technician Kevar was on duty again, having been
|
|
released from death at the end of the previous day and the brig at
|
|
the beginning of the present one. The computer was allowing his
|
|
equipment to function perfectly. Perfect, by Klingon standards,
|
|
meant that everything that hadn't yet fallen into disrepair
|
|
appeared to be working.
|
|
The Sentinel was once again taking the point for Krond's
|
|
squadron, the proverbial bloodhound leading the pack. There were
|
|
other ships out here, and it was Kevar's job to find them, so that
|
|
his commander might revel in glorious victory over the Federation
|
|
Captain.
|
|
As the scout cleared the blinding effects of the primary's
|
|
corona, a shape materialised on his viewer. His knobby fingers
|
|
focused the delicate equipment, and he made very sure before
|
|
reporting his find.
|
|
"Commander."
|
|
"Yes, Lt. Corpse?" The rest of the bridge crew thought this
|
|
uproariously funny, and barks of laughter reverberated off the
|
|
steel decks.
|
|
"Contact, bearing one-three-nine Mark two-two."
|
|
"What do you make of it?"
|
|
"I'm not sure, sir. It appears to be the same as..." The
|
|
commander was about to question his hesitation when Kevar
|
|
finished. "As the contact I reported yesterday before being
|
|
detained."
|
|
"Is that so?"
|
|
"Comm, inform Commander Krond."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Worf looked up from his console. "Message from Commander
|
|
Krond, sir. He reports a possible ship contact, at one-three-nine
|
|
Mark two-two. Directly away from Captain D'Arby's ships, sir."
|
|
Picard raised an eyebrow. "Really? Mr. Worf, focus our
|
|
sensors on the contact."
|
|
"Scanning. Metal, manmade materials, minimal energy
|
|
readings. Appears to be a derelict of some sort, sir."
|
|
"Tell Commander Krond to halt his forces. Send out a message
|
|
to delay the tests."
|
|
Riker turned to his Captain. "Not part of the simulation,
|
|
sir?"
|
|
"Definitely not. Mr. Byng." He addressed the oriental
|
|
manning the Helm in Wesley's absence. "Close in on the contact,
|
|
Warp 2."
|
|
"Aye, sir. Warp 2."
|
|
The Enterprise shot forward and across the solar system,
|
|
arcing around the sun in a parabolic turn. As she closed in on
|
|
the contact, the ship slowed, allowing the Enterprise's scanners
|
|
to assimilate more detail.
|
|
The main viewer on the bridge was centred on the derelict and
|
|
Picard ordered it to maximum magnification. The bridge crew
|
|
watched, startled, as the picture began to clarify.
|
|
They saw soon enough that it was a ship, some distinctly
|
|
manmade object, about five-hundred metres long. This was only
|
|
slightly less than Enterprise's own six-hundred and ten. In fact,
|
|
it took on a shape very much like Picard's own vessel.
|
|
"It's Federation!" exclaimed Riker, seeing the distinct
|
|
combination of saucer and twin nacelles.
|
|
"Lt. Worf, identify that vessel."
|
|
"Starfleet vessel, Alaska class battlecruiser, circa the era
|
|
of the Federation-Klingon War." Picard took note of the
|
|
objectivity with which the Lieutenant spoke of that event. "Hull
|
|
registry reads-"
|
|
"Well, what is it, Lieutenant?"
|
|
"Sir. Registry is NCC 1701-C, U.S.S. Enterprise."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
From cwynne@liberty.uc.wlu.edu Tue Jan 12 15:52:12 1993
|
|
Return-Path: <cwynne@liberty.uc.wlu.edu>
|
|
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|
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|
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Message-Id: <Pine.3.03.9301121623.A8257-g100000@liberty.uc.wlu.edu>
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Mime-Version: 1.0
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Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII
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From: "Colin J. Wynne" <cwynne@liberty.uc.wlu.edu>
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To: asc <jfy@cis.ksu.edu>
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Subject: GhostsFromThePast.2
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Date: Tue, 12 Jan 1993 16:51:23 +0500 (EST)
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This story is property of:
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Colin J. Wynne
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P.O. Box 4661
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Lexington, VA 24450
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(703) 464-4030
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cwynne@liberty.uc.wlu.edu
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Permission is given to distribute this story freely as long as this header
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is included with all files/hardcopies/electronic postings.
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--------------------------------------------------------------------------
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"Ghosts from the Past," Ch. 3 through Ch. 7:
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--------------------------------------------
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CHAPTER III
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"Permission to lead an away team aboard, sir."
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"Lt. Worf, scan that ship."
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"Complete life support failure, toxic substances, apparently
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engine waste."
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"Any signs of life at all?"
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"None, sir."
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"All right, Number One. But be careful. Mr. Data, what do
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you know of that Enterprise."
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Data at the Ops module seemed to look inwardly for a moment,
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then responded. "NCC 1701-C was launched on Stardate 11692, the
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first of the Alaska class transwarp battlecruisers. The ship
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served with distinction during the Federation-Klingon War, for
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which it was built. On approximately Stardate 15500, she was
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loaned to the Exploration Fleet for a ten year survey mission.
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Less than three years later, she sent a distress signal to
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Starbase 67 and was never heard from again."
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"Starbase 67? That's toward the galactic centre! Over..."
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"Ten thousand light years away," offered the android.
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"Yes..." Picard was now absorbed in thought. He had hardly
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noticed Riker and Worf leaving. Moments later, the intercom
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chirped.
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"Captain, I am taking Mr. LaForge and Lt. Worf along with a
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small science team. Prepared for departure."
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"Good luck, Number One."
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The small group materialised near the engineering section of
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the battlecruiser. Their phasers were at their side, for they did
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not expect to have to use them, and their mouths were covered with
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small respirator devices. Each had a concentrated supply of
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oxygen clipped at their waist.
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"Geordi, what do you make of this?"
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The Engineering Officer was already at the control panels,
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reactivating them to call up system displays.
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"Barely any power left in the system, Commander. Transwarp
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engines completely degenerated, batteries minimal. The ship is
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almost completely shutdown."
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"How about life support?"
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"It took some heavy damage. Looks like she was in a fight.
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They couldn't have repaired it by themselves."
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"And the toxic residue?"
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"The waste systems around the intermix chamber were ruptured.
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All of the stuff that should have been vented to space flowed into
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the circulation system."
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"All right, let's head for the bridge."
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While the away team was being assembled, the Enterprise, NCC
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1701-D, sent word to all of the training ships.
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Kevar was at his console, still, scanning the rest of the
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system, despite the fact that the games had been suspended. He
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heard Krond's voice address the squadron.
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"This is Commander Krond to all ships. Pull back from the
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target to a position behind Enterprise. Do not interfere."
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Kevar heard the rasping breath of his own commander behind
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him. "All right, Kevar. Now just what the hell have you gotten
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us into this time? I should have left you in the brig."
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Kevar had had enough. "Or listened to my initial contact
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report," he growled back. Even as the last word left his lips, he
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realised that a mere twenty years ago he would have been shot on
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the spot for that remark.
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As it was now, though, the commander simply hauled him by his
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collar out of his chair. "You dare be insubordinate?" The
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backhand sent Kevar sprawling back over his chair.
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"Guard! Remove this scum to the brig until further notice!"
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Without power for the turbolifts or artificial gravity, the
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away team had to climb several decks worth of ladders in freefall
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to reach the bridge. The last ladder terminated in a hatchway
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directly in front of the command module, that is, the helm and nav
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stations, on the bridge. Geordi was through first, and he used
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his VISOR to allow him to find the controls for the emergency
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lights.
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Riker emerged from the hatch into a large compartment bathed
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in eerie red lights which illuminated several very dead corpses.
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He heard a gasp from one of the scientists. Worf moved to the
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security monitor station, and the technicians moved to various
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consoles around the bridge.
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Satisfied that everyone was doing what they could, Riker
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tapped his insignia communicator. "Riker to Enterprise."
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"Picard here. Report, Number One."
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"No sign of the crew, Captain, except on the bridge."
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"What did you find?"
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"Sir, the bodies of a dozen officers are scattered about.
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Request that you beam them to the Enterprise for autopsies."
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"Standby." There was a brief pause, then the bodies
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shimmered and disappeared. "Oh my..."
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"Yes, Captain. Mr. LaForge is attempting to restore some
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power, and the tech crew is trying to recover the ship's log."
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"What exactly is the status of the ship, Number One."
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"Warp engines are unpowered, phasers almost completely empty
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and photon torpedoes depleted. There are signs of battle all
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over."
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"Very well. Let me know when you have the log recordings."
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"Understood, sir. Riker out."
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Dr. Pulaski wasn't told why she was being summoned to
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sickbay, so she was more than slightly taken aback when she was
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led by a technician to a quarantine room in which she found
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eleven dried and hardened bodies in old-style Starfleet maroon
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tunics and black trousers.
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"What is this?" she asked, after collecting herself. Picard,
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who had met her in the sickbay, explained.
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"Doctor, that is all that remains of the crew of the
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Enterprise."
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She, currently unaware of the nature of the discovery, did a
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not very exaggerated doubletake. "The Ent-"
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"Allow me to explain, Dr. Pulaski."
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Five minutes later, the doctor was nodding gravely, now fully
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informed.
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"Since I wanted you to perform an autopsy on the bodies, I
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thought it best to bypass normal decontamination procedures."
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Usually, the transporter would automatically cleanse returning
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bodies of all forms of disease of microorganisms. "That's why
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they were beamed straight to the quarantine room."
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"Very well, Captain. I'll let you know as soon as my
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examination is complete.
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"Any luck with the logs yet, Commander?"
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Riker looked up from his position underneath the
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Communications station where he was assisting one of the techs
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in repairing the top of the console, which looked like a rushed
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jury-rig job to begin with.
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"We've accessed the computers, Captain, but the memory has
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been horribly scrambled. We're trying to piece things together.
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Only one log entry appears to have been made after the ship docked
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at Starbase 67, and there's nothing out of the ordinary in it."
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"I see. What else can you do then?"
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"Geordi?"
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"The problem right now is in sorting out the memory. We
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think we have all the pertinent log entries, and that there just
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isn't anything that we're looking for. So now we have to sort out
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the flight recorder visuals and see what they tell us."
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"Fine. I'll check in with you later, then."
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"Oh, Captain."
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"Yes, Mr. LaForge?"
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"There is one important thing that we do know."
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"And what is that?"
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"There are definitely logs and recordings extending for quite
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some time after the distress signal. We just can't sort them out
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yet."
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"Interesting."
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Captain Picard was pacing. He didn't realise he was doing it
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until he noticed Data swinging his had back and forth in study of
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his captain, as though there were a tennis game on the bridge.
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Picard stopped near the railing on the upper level of the bridge.
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"Mr. Data, access the computer and find out everything about
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the Enterprise-C." He actually pronounced the 'dash C'.
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"Aye, sir." Soon the android was a short distance directly
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behind Picard, calling up information at the Science station.
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"There is not that much usable information on the vessel,
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Captain. Mostly technical information, background, et cetera."
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"Give me some of that, then."
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"The Alaska class battlecruisers were the second ship type
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outfitted with Transwarp drive. They were designed as firepower
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platforms for the Federation-Klingon War, but, in keeping with
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Starfleet practice, they were provided with more than adequate
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research facilities, hence, the reassignment of some of them to
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the E-Fleet when their own ships were being upgraded to
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Transwarp."
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"Mr. Data, you mentioned before that they sent out a distress
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signal. Was there a voice report that went with it?"
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"Searching. Ah, here it is. Indeed, sir, there was a
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message from the ship's captain, one Valeriy Alexandrovich
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Romanov."
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"Now we have something! Do you have the text?"
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"Yes, sir. But it's incomplete. The message was cut off at
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the source."
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"Give me what you have."
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"It says only, 'We are being buffeted by strange energies
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that-' and it cuts off."
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"Pulaski to bridge."
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"This is the Captain. Go ahead, Doctor."
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"I'm afraid I have no real news, Captain. You did say there
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were poisons in the atmosphere of the ship?"
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"Yes, Doctor."
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"Well, that is what killed these men and women. Poison and
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oxygen deprivation. There is no indication of any sort of disease
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or bacteria."
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"Thank you anyway, Doctor. Would you please see to it that
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the bodies are prepared for proper burial?"
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"Of course, Captain. Out."
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"Sir, signal from the away team."
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"Commander Riker, any success yet?"
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"A partial one at least, sir."
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"Meaning?"
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"We know why Captain Romanov sent out the distress signal,
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but not what happened to the ship and the crew. We're
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transmitting the flight recorder now."
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Riker watched the main viewer of the battlecruiser's bridge
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as Picard stared intently at his ship's own viewscreen. They both
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saw Enterprise-C leave Starbase 67 on a routine patrol. The ship
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received a transmission from the base, and shortly thereafter
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encounter an area of 'strange energies', Picard thought, quoting
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the distress message.
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The flight recorder replayed in every detail the fateful day
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in which the last Enterprise came so close to escaping sure
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disaster, only to be sucked down into the vortex of a rip in the
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fabric of space. The last thing recorded was a brilliant flash of
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light.
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Geordi spoke into his communicator as the screen faded to
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black. "Whatever happened when they went through that...rip," he
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said, coining the word used by the battlecruiser's Science
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Officer, one of the bodies beamed back to the Enterprise, "is what
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fouled the memory. The images after the breakthrough are
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scrambled even worse. It's going to take a lot of time to figure
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out just what happened."
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"Captain," interjected Riker, "our life support belts are
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running low. We're going to return to the ship before continuing
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over here."
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"Very good, Number One. Good work. I'll see you for a
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personal report after you return. Picard out."
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Riker tapped his communicator. "Enterprise, away team to
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beam back. Energise."
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CHAPTER IV
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"Captain's Log, Stardate 42916.1: After several hours, the
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training simulations remain suspended, due to the fact that our
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discovery of the previous starship Enterprise still is foremost in
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consuming our time.
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"I have sent a dispatch to Starfleet informing them of recent
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events. I await their response, but, in the mean while, Commander
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Riker will go back aboard the battlecruiser with an engineering
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team to work on the ship's life support systems. Lt. LaForge's
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assessment is that, although the original crew would have been
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unable to repair the damage, with the technology available aboard
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the Enterprise, that is Enterprise-D, repairs are possible.
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"With any luck, by the time that Starfleet takes action of
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its own, we shall have the ship functional."
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Picard switched off the log recorder as the First Officer's
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form was suddenly standing in the doorway to the Captain's Ready
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Room. The look on his face was akin to that of a child with a
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brand new toy.
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"Commander, I've just finished my log entry."
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"Heard from Starfleet yet?"
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"Not yet, Number One. Return message should come within the
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next hour, though."
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"Well, I'm here for the report you wanted."
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"I think we can make this brief. You look anxious to
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return."
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Riker smiled broadly. "Yes indeed, Captain."
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Forty minutes later, Riker materialised on Enterprise-C's
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engineering deck, where a dozen technicians were already hard at
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work on the fused and melted life support machinery. At random
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intervals, parts were beamed over from Enterprise-D to replace the
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destroyed equipment.
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It had taken Riker about a half an hour to recap the away
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team's findings to the Captain, during which he had been at pains
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to keep still while Picard pressed him for every trifling detail
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that he could remember. Of course, none of it was very important,
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but Riker guessed that the Captain was jealous of not being able
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to go aboard her himself.
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Riker, not being an engineer, really did not belong back on
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the ship overseeing the repair crew, but, as Picard had so easily
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noted, he wanted to be back aboard. So, while the technicians
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worked, Will Riker, along with Data and Geordi, began a full
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inspection of the rest of the ship, starting, of course, in
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Engineering.
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"What is it, Geordi?"
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"Well, Commander, it's just that most of my training has been
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with more modern technology, Ultrawarp systems."
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"What exactly are you saying?"
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"I'm not the person to be working on this sort of equipment."
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"So, who do you suggest?"
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"Commander, there are two people I know of who have an
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excellent knowledge of Transwarp technology."
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"And who would that be?"
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"Wesley and Lt. Argyle."
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"Interesting combination there. I suppose Mr. Crusher is
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available, but..."
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"We can at least put in a request to Starfleet."
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"I suppose." He tapped his communicator. "Riker to
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Enterprise."
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"Picard here. Yes, Number One."
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"Captain, I have a request to make. Actually, two requests."
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There was a brief pause before Picard responded, made curious
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by the almost whimsical tone in Riker's voice. "And what would
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they be?"
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"I need two officers with knowledge of Transwarp engineering,
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Acting-Ensign Crusher and Lt. Argyle."
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"I'll see what I can do, Number One."
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Captain Picard folded down the comm panel on the arm of his
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chair. He turned his head to address Counselor Troi.
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"That's quite some request that Cmdr. Riker has made."
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Troi was a little distracted. "Yes, I suppose. But,
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Captain, may I suggest that you keep an eye on him."
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"What do you mean, Counselor?"
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"It's just that he's so eager to be on the other ship that he
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might work himself too hard, to exhaustion."
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"I know what you mean. I wouldn't mind taking a visit
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myself."
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Troi smiled. "Well, it would be the Captain's prerogative to
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inspect the discovered ship after the first officer has made his
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tour."
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"It is at that. Thank you, Counselor."
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"Sir." Worf's bass rumble caught the Captain's attention
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immediately. "Message from Starfleet."
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"Excellent. On screen, Lieutenant."
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A face swam onto the screen. "Captain Picard, this is
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Admiral Syltek of Starfleet Command."
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Syltek's pointed ears were almost hidden behind his cropped
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dark brown hair. Though he appeared as cool and dispassionate as
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any Vulcan, his eyes somehow seemed softened through years of
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contact with humans. Syltek was a rather famous persona in
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Starfleet, having commanded the deep space explorer Intrepid
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(third all Vulcan crewed ship to bear that name) on a fifteen year
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mission towards the center of the galaxy.
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"Yes, sir."
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"The Operations Council has reached a decision concerning the
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discovery of U.S.S. Enterprise, NCC 1701-C. The ships currently
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engaged in training exercises with your ship are to be released,
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whereupon they will resume normal operations.
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"A support ship is being dispatched to provide a skeleton
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crew for the battlecruiser and to repower its Transwarp engines.
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You will proceed at best speed to Starbase 42. You will try to
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complete as much in the way of repairs as possible before
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arriving. Would you like an officer assigned to command the
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ship?"
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"I don't think that will be necessary. My First Officer,
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Cmdr. Riker, will be more than happy to fill that role."
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"You recommend him, then?"
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"I do indeed, sir."
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"Fine. Do you have any questions, Captain?"
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"Just one, Admiral. The previous Chief Engineer aboard the
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Enterprise, one Lt. Argyle, I have just been informed is rather
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adept at Transwarp engineering. Could he possibly be assigned to
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assist my crew?"
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"Just a moment, Captain." Syltek looked aside for a moment,
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apparently checking something. He turned again to face the
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viewer's pickup. "Captain, it would appear that you are in luck.
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Mr. Argyle is the Chief Engineer assigned to the supply ship. He
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is the best Transwarp Engineer in the sector."
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"Excellent. And when will they arrive?"
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"ETA is thirty-eight hours, Captain Picard. Good luck."
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"Thank you."
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The screen returned to its usual white-speckled midnight.
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"Lt. Worf, would you please get me Mr. Crusher at Starbase 42?"
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"Aye, sir."
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It took several minutes, because Wesley had to be called from
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one of the Dr. Crusher's seminars. Eventually, though, he arrived
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at the comm center of the Starbase.
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"Yes, Captain?"
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"Mr. Crusher, a rather interesting situation has come up."
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Picard explained.
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"Wow! That's amazing, sir."
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"Mr. LaForge has informed us that you are well versed in
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Transwarp technology."
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"Yes, sir."
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"Cmdr. Riker has requested your presence on his team aboard
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Enterprise-C to assist the engineering team."
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Although it was only a voice message, Picard could still tell
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that the youth was debating with himself. By this time, though,
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his mother had finished her lecture and arrived in the comm room.
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Picard could hear a tech giving her the lowdown in hushed tones.
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Picard could picture the selfless Dr. Crusher telling her son to
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go, that she would still see him when they came back to the
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Starbase.
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"Captain?"
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"Yes, Mr. Crusher. Have you decided?"
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"Is the next available shuttle soon enough?"
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"That it is, Mr. Crusher."
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The trio was still walking the corridors of Enterprise-C,
|
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taking note of everything as they went. It was obvious the ship
|
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had been in a battle. It wasn't that the ship was badly damaged,
|
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just that there were signs of damage all over. Electrical and
|
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circuit damage, scorch marks on the hull and breaches in some
|
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places that had been sealed off or covered over.
|
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"This is a very well designed ship," commented Geordi. "I
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mean, look at this! We've seen almost a dozen tears in the outer
|
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hull, and it's hardly affected her capabilities. Why, I'll bet if
|
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that one lucky hit hadn't taken out the recyclers and the waste
|
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disposal, the ship would have easily been able to make it back to
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base."
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"But none of that helps explain what happened to her."
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"Sir," interjected Data from the door of a nearby cabin.
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"What is it, Data?"
|
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"Look at this."
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|
The other two showed up. Data, with his android strength,
|
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easily shoved the door open despite the lack of power. They were
|
|
using portable lights because there was hardly enough power in the
|
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ship to run the portable machinery the engineers had brought
|
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along. Gravity was something else entirely. The ship was in
|
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freefall.
|
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Inside, the cabin was untouched. A few objects had floated
|
|
free of their resting places, but, otherwise, the quarters looked
|
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as though they were waiting for their occupant to return from a
|
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normal day's work.
|
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"Interesting."
|
|
They continued through the ship, finding the same thing
|
|
everywhere, evidences of a rather sudden departure. By the time
|
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they reached the lower levels of the ship, the two humans were
|
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ready to bounce their heads off of bulkheads in frustration, and
|
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Data just kept mumbling, "Curious...fascinating...puzzling," et
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cetera.
|
|
Finally, they found what they were looking for. Rather, Data
|
|
found it while Will and Geordi were searching through the cargo
|
|
modules.
|
|
"Commander, I believe that I have an answer for us."
|
|
Riker and LaForge propelled themselves from the module that
|
|
they were examining and sailed across the large, wide-open space
|
|
of the cargo deck.
|
|
"What'd you find, Data?"
|
|
He was standing next to an access panel (without power, of
|
|
course), one of dozens around that level, the ones above and
|
|
below, and the hangar decks.
|
|
"Sir, these portals open up to the ship's lifeboats. This
|
|
one would appear to have been used, as were the rest of the ones
|
|
on this level."
|
|
"Geordi, let's check this out. I'll take the hanger area;
|
|
Geordi, you go up, Data, down."
|
|
"Aye, sir," they said as one.
|
|
Ten minutes later, they reconvened. "All gone, sir."
|
|
"I found the same, Commander. But there were six left."
|
|
"Me too. So, now we know where they crew went, or, at least,
|
|
why they aren't here."
|
|
Geordi was slightly confused. "You know, for all the brain-
|
|
racking we've been doing, this is a pretty obvious answer. How'd
|
|
we miss it?"
|
|
"When the Enterprise approached, we came in from the top, so
|
|
we didn't notice the boats' absence. All the lifeboats are on the
|
|
bottom of the hull. And this is the first time anyone has been
|
|
down towards the keel."
|
|
"But what about the bodies we found?" asked Geordi.
|
|
"If I may, sir?" asked Data. Will nodded. "It would seem
|
|
that the life support failure forced the evacuation of the crew.
|
|
Since the ship was almost entirely intact, and in such close
|
|
proximity to the Klingon border which was probably still suffering
|
|
from post-War disputes, the captain found it necessary to self-
|
|
destruct."
|
|
"How do we know that the ship came here that close to the
|
|
time of departure?"
|
|
"We do not, sir. However, if we assume that the officers
|
|
stayed behind to initiate destruction, then it can be reasoned
|
|
that they at least thought they were in disputed territory."
|
|
"Circular logic, Data."
|
|
"Yes, sir, but we don't have much to go on. But if they
|
|
stayed behind to activate destruction with hopes of escaping
|
|
afterward, then the sudden release of poisonous engine waste could
|
|
have killed them before they could reach the computer."
|
|
"Well, it makes sense. If so, Starfleet will have to send
|
|
out a survey mission to look for survivors or their descendants."
|
|
"That is up to Starfleet to decide."
|
|
"Hmmm, yes. All right, let's report to the Captain."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
CHAPTER V
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Captain's Log, Stardate 42919.3: We are currently awaiting
|
|
the arrival of a Starfleet supply vessel to assist in the
|
|
restoration of Enterprise-C. Before it gets here, though, I have
|
|
one very sad duty to perform - the burial at space of that ship's
|
|
officers.
|
|
"Although none of the crew of the present Enterprise knew
|
|
these men and women, nor, am I aware, are any of their descendants
|
|
aboard, this most unwelcome of shipboard services serves as a
|
|
profound reminder of the dangers of exploration. Indeed, the
|
|
ships that we use have become more and more advanced, but every
|
|
mission that we undertake only firms up my conviction that the
|
|
dangers have also."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Wesley looked up from his work. Geordi had put him in charge
|
|
of repairing the dilithium reactor, which was necessary to
|
|
restoring power to the ship. Dilithium crystals more than doubled
|
|
the energy output of an anti-matter reaction, and allowed the
|
|
efficiency of the process to become greater than 100%. That was
|
|
how a ship could regenerate its power.
|
|
He secured the top of the housing and then waited patiently
|
|
for the revolving airlock to cycle. When he was outside he tapped
|
|
his communicator. "Geordi, this is Wes. I'm done here."
|
|
"Okay. Come on into the vertical intermix compartment.
|
|
We're ready to try a startup."
|
|
Wes jumped and sailed up one deck to the main engineering
|
|
level. Having not had much practice with weightlessness, Wesley
|
|
found himself scrambling for the handrails at the top of the
|
|
ladder. After finally recovering himself, he managed to float
|
|
through to the main engine room.
|
|
Geordi was standing over the control panel located at the
|
|
base of the vertical intermix shaft, a tall crystalline looking
|
|
tube that stretched up several decks towards the impulse deck.
|
|
Aft from the console was a similar structure, running back along
|
|
the ship's axis where it eventually split to connect the two huge
|
|
Transwarp nacelles.
|
|
The whole setup was similar enough to a Galaxy class ship
|
|
that Geordi could recognise everything, but the specifics were
|
|
different enough that he found himself riddled with doubts about
|
|
everything that his crew had done.
|
|
He caught Wesley out of the corner of his eye. "Is
|
|
everything ready?"
|
|
"I think so, Geordi. We took a few of the crystals out of
|
|
the Enterprise and brought them over here."
|
|
"Well, between the two of us, I hope we haven't forgotten
|
|
anything."
|
|
Wes did a mental checklist, comparing it against everything
|
|
that had been done, and he also gave a quick look around the
|
|
engine assembly as well. "No, nothing forgotten. Are they all
|
|
set up at impulse?"
|
|
"Yeah. Those backup fusion reactors have really come in
|
|
handy supplying power for all of our equipment. I'm beginning to
|
|
wonder if Starfleet shouldn't still be incorporating them into
|
|
ship designs."
|
|
"Well, recommend it to them after we have this ship running,"
|
|
said Wes with a smile.
|
|
"All right. LaForge to impulse deck."
|
|
"Yes, Lieutenant?"
|
|
"Begin final checklist and countdown to ignition."
|
|
"Counting down."
|
|
Geordi's hands moved across the board. The motions were not
|
|
as smooth and fluid as they would have been on the controls he was
|
|
used to working.
|
|
Five minutes passed, and all the while Geordi's eyes were
|
|
riveted to the system displays. He breathed in sharply, and
|
|
said, "Everything ready?"
|
|
"All set, Lieutenant."
|
|
"Here goes." A final series of switches and things started
|
|
happening. The few shipboard systems that were operating dimmed
|
|
almost to blackness. The effect was then broken as lightning
|
|
coursed through the intermix shaft. After several seconds, it
|
|
happened again. Then again and again, until the center of the
|
|
hexagonal glass tube was a pulsating stream of light.
|
|
The silence was pierced by the whine of the energisers.
|
|
Geordi exhaled the breath he had been holding as the lights came
|
|
back on again. Wesley smiled as well as he felt his weight settle
|
|
to the deck. Consoles all over the room were starting to come to
|
|
life.
|
|
"Ignition is go on main impulse units." Geordi's smile now
|
|
beamed from his face.
|
|
"Enterprise, this is Lt. LaForge. We have main power start-
|
|
up on both engines."
|
|
Picard's voice answered almost immediately. "Excellent,
|
|
Lieutenant! What comes next, then?"
|
|
"Well, sir, we're going to restore power and life support to
|
|
critical areas, as well as some living spaces for the skeleton
|
|
crew. Other than that, we have to wait for the supply ship."
|
|
"What exactly for, Mr. LaForge?"
|
|
"You see, although we restarted the matter/anti-matter
|
|
reaction in the nacelles, we simply can't restore power above
|
|
bare minimum levels. The supply ship will be able to recharge
|
|
the ship to 100% capacity."
|
|
"Very well. Picard out."
|
|
Meanwhile, Wes was walking - thank god for the gravity -
|
|
around the compartment. "This ship is in great shape for
|
|
something almost eighty years old."
|
|
"I'll bet I know what happened. After they all either
|
|
abandoned ship or died from the poison, the ship probably shut
|
|
itself down. You know, put itself into mothballs, sort of. All
|
|
of the computers get shut down, all the doors sealed."
|
|
"Makes sense. Let's finish up around here, okay?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Riker, Data, Geordi, Wes, and others from Enterprise-C's crew
|
|
were gathered in the forward photon torpedo room on the
|
|
battlecruiser. They stood silently as the magnetic loading track
|
|
carried eleven coffins into the firing chamber, four on each
|
|
outboard, three on the center tube. A viewscreen at the aft end
|
|
of the room showed Captain Picard standing on his bridge, looking
|
|
quite sombre.
|
|
When he spoke, his voice was carried all over both ships.
|
|
Despite the informality that had come to represent Starfleet crew
|
|
interactions in preceding generations, shipboard funerals remained
|
|
stiff and, to some extent, military, in nature.
|
|
"Attention. It is my sad duty now to lay to rest the senior
|
|
officers, and, in a larger sense, the entire crew as well, of NCC
|
|
1701-C, U.S.S. Enterprise. This ship, which possesses the same
|
|
name as our ship, also possessed a crew very much like yourselves.
|
|
"They were explorers, as are you, and their loss reminds all
|
|
of us of our own mortality. They are kindred in soul if not in
|
|
lineage, and that is why I feel this loss more than perhaps would
|
|
be expected.
|
|
"I do not say all of this to make you in any way fear the
|
|
exciting and necessary work that we do. Rather, I want to give
|
|
you inspiration for all that lies ahead. It is people like this
|
|
who we help with our work. The unending quest for knowledge helps
|
|
to prevent recurrences of these such happenings.
|
|
"I now ask all of you to give a moment's silence in memory of
|
|
these brave souls."
|
|
Riker, standing at attention, heard only the faint hum of
|
|
machinery, the air vents, the cooling units for the torpedo tubes,
|
|
et cetera. After several minutes of reflection, the Captain spoke
|
|
again. "Orders, up!"
|
|
One by one, the photorps were fired from the battlecruiser's
|
|
bow, balls of orange light hurtling toward the nearby star.
|
|
On his bridge, Picard was standing next to Troi. "Company,
|
|
at ease and resume your duties."
|
|
The main viewscreen tracked the receding fiery orbs. The
|
|
Counselor said to Picard, "They were very moved by your words."
|
|
"I am glad for that. I have not had to do this very often,
|
|
fortunately, only for..."
|
|
"You are upset. Were you thinking of Wesley's father?"
|
|
Picard shook his head, not in negation, but to physically try
|
|
and clear the thought from his head. "Never mind. Lt. Worf,
|
|
begin final preparations for the arrival of the support ship.
|
|
Inform Commander Riker to do likewise."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
A few hours later, Riker was on the bridge of the
|
|
battlecruiser. The supply ship had just come out of warp and was
|
|
manoeuvring towards the two Enterprises. It had hailed first
|
|
Captain Picard and then Commander Riker, under the name of
|
|
Kaibatsu.
|
|
The Kaibatsu moved close abeam of the battlecruiser, slowly,
|
|
using reaction control thrusters. It was an ungainly looking
|
|
ship, short, wide nacelles straddling an ovular secondary hull,
|
|
only half the length of Enterprise-C's own. The primary hull was
|
|
thick and relatively short, a very squashed sphere resting on the
|
|
fat end of the oval.
|
|
"U.S.S. Kaibatsu calling Commander Riker. Permission to
|
|
attach a tractor beam to your ship?"
|
|
"Go ahead, Kaibatsu."
|
|
From the bottom of the converted freighter's primary hull
|
|
emerged a small ball mounted device. The beam connected to
|
|
Enterprise-C's main dorsal, and the two ships moved slowly
|
|
together, starboard to the battlecruiser's port. Most ships'
|
|
gangways are located on the port side of the primary hull, so the
|
|
supply ships are modified to house the facility starboard.
|
|
Kaibatsu's gangway hatch extended and affixed itself to
|
|
Enterprise-C's. The computer's confirmed the linkage, and the
|
|
tremendous doors were pulled open into the ships' hulls.
|
|
"Docking complete, Enterprise. Standing by to connect power
|
|
couplings."
|
|
Riker answered. "Let's just get the crew settled first. If
|
|
I'm not mistaken, the connection will require extravehicular
|
|
activity?"
|
|
"Yes it will, Commander."
|
|
"Just so, then. We'll move the people first."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Picard had most of his crew back aboard now, although Riker
|
|
had retained a few leading ensigns to serve aboard the prize ship.
|
|
That was how it was being treated, really, like captured territory
|
|
with Riker as prize captain. Will didn't mind that at all.
|
|
Right now, he was in the ship's observation lounge near the
|
|
top of the primary hull facing aft. Small spacesuited figures
|
|
danced about the two ships, fastening dozens of wires, hoses, and
|
|
other connectors between the two ships.
|
|
Captain Picard had just completed his inspection of the ship,
|
|
and had ordered Data back aboard Picard's own ship to take the
|
|
conn in his absence. That thought caught Riker by surprise,
|
|
because if he thought of Enterprise-D as Picard's ship, then he
|
|
was starting to think of the other vessel as his ship.
|
|
"Well, Number One, as soon as they're finished, we'll be able
|
|
to proceed toward Starbase."
|
|
"It's not quite that simple, sir. Lt. Argyle has informed me
|
|
that it will be about six hours before the impulse drives are
|
|
usable."
|
|
"I thought that the engines were already operational."
|
|
"The engines, yes. They're producing power. But there isn't
|
|
enough power yet to activate the drives and actually move the
|
|
ship."
|
|
"Ah. I see. Starfleet Command needs someone to be put in
|
|
charge of this crew. After all, this has now become an actual
|
|
command, and not just an away team."
|
|
Riker almost succeeded at masking his disappointment. Seeing
|
|
the barest of changes in his First Officer's face, Picard allowed
|
|
a devious smile to cross his. This only served to turn Riker's
|
|
ill feelings toward anger. "I see," he managed at last through
|
|
clenched teeth.
|
|
"Admiral Syltek asked me to recommend someone."
|
|
Picard still sported that grin; that and his tone of voice
|
|
served to pique Riker's curiosity. "And what did you say, sir?"
|
|
"I told him that there was no need to send in someone,
|
|
because I have an outstandingly capable officer more than willing
|
|
to serve in that capacity right here already."
|
|
"Thank you, sir."
|
|
Picard's smile widened further. "Ensign Crusher."
|
|
"What!"
|
|
Picard broke into laughter. "On behalf of Starfleet, I would
|
|
like to inform you that NCC 1701-C has been temporarily
|
|
recommissioned, and offer you command of her and the restoration
|
|
crew."
|
|
"Sir, I know I've been offered command of my own ship before,
|
|
and that my loyalty to you and the Enterprise eventually made me
|
|
decide to decline, but for a temporary assignment, I'd be proud to
|
|
accept this offer. It will be an honor to serve alongside you and
|
|
the Enterprise."
|
|
Picard extended his hand. "Which Enterprise would that be,
|
|
Number One? You, too, command a vessel of that name."
|
|
"I don't think that we'll have trouble telling the two ships
|
|
apart, sir."
|
|
"I must return now, I think. Is there anything I can do to
|
|
assist you in this assignment?"
|
|
"Yes. I will be needing some officers over here."
|
|
"Who did you have in mind, Commander?"
|
|
"With your permission, I'd like to retain Wesley to assist
|
|
Lt. Argyle in Engineering."
|
|
"Of course."
|
|
"I think that Worf might find a chance to indulge himself in
|
|
his warrior background by helping aboard a battlecruiser. Besides,
|
|
he has trained as a helmsman, hasn't he?"
|
|
"Yes, indeed. I think we could spare him. Anyone else?"
|
|
"I think that I should have Mr. Data, because of the amount
|
|
of work that will have to be done on the computers."
|
|
Picard debated the last. "Who will that leave me to serve as
|
|
first officer in your absence?"
|
|
"I thought you might bring that up, and I think I might have
|
|
an answer. As Chief Engineer, Geordi is in the chain of command.
|
|
He would do well to serve as a bridge officer for a while. As
|
|
more than a helmsman, that is."
|
|
"What about his duties as Engineer, though?"
|
|
"I think that he could serve for the required week or so on
|
|
the bridge without compromising his post."
|
|
"All right, then. Since this is a decidedly low-risk
|
|
mission, I'll send Data and Worf over as soon as I return. Do you
|
|
have your crew settled in yet?"
|
|
"Aye, sir. They're working round the clock in standard
|
|
watches. General repairs right now, until we have power for
|
|
anything else."
|
|
"Good, good. Let me know when you can be underway, and we'll
|
|
be moving."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
CHAPTER VI
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Captain's Log, Stardate 42920.4: We have been underway for
|
|
twelve hours now at half impulse power, and I am pleased to say
|
|
that no unforeseen problems have arisen. The Kaibatsu is still
|
|
transferring power aboard from her special Transwarp reactors. I
|
|
am told that because of the different nature of the systems,
|
|
Transwarp and Ultrawarp energy are not interchangeable.
|
|
"By keeping the unused living quarters without power, we are
|
|
able to run the ship at some semblance of normal operations.
|
|
Although it will take less than a day to completely recharge the
|
|
ship, our orders from Starfleet insist on proceeding at impulse
|
|
for three more days before beginning warp field dynamics
|
|
simulations.
|
|
"Otherwise, the Enterprise runs smoothly, and I am content to
|
|
be her captain for as long - or short - as necessary."
|
|
Riker clicked off the log recorder just as Argyle was
|
|
stepping out of the turbolift. "Enjoy doing that, Captain Riker?"
|
|
Will returned the playful smile. "How are things in
|
|
Engineering?"
|
|
"The mains are on standby. That means we could use them, but
|
|
the supply officer insists on putting off warp tests; if we
|
|
started now, we'd be ready to go to warp by the time we're
|
|
repowered." The engineer saw the look on Riker's face. "But I
|
|
guess you don't want me to rush them, now do you?"
|
|
"Lieutenant, after all this ship is eighty years old! What
|
|
will another three days matter to her. And we should be as
|
|
careful as possible."
|
|
"Of course, sir."
|
|
"Argyle?"
|
|
"Yes, sir?"
|
|
"Shouldn't you be doing something in Engineering?"
|
|
"Yes, sir."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Picard gazed at the viewscreen. It was fixed on the mated
|
|
forms of the two other ships. The battlecruiser had elegant lines
|
|
that he found very pleasing to just look at.
|
|
The primary hull was smooth, a cross between the disc shape
|
|
of older designs and the newer style like on Enterprise-D.' The
|
|
dorsal was a triangle, with the base near the impulse engines on
|
|
top. It was an odd looking arrangement, but not ugly. The
|
|
secondary hull was shaped like a ducks body, wide and shallow,
|
|
tapering at the back.
|
|
The engines were long and thin, almost doubling the length of
|
|
the ship, as opposed to the wide, flat, and short nacelles on a
|
|
Galaxy class.
|
|
Picard smiled inwardly as he also noticed the ugly duckling,
|
|
the Kaibatsu, moored alongside the beautiful swan. The captain's
|
|
reverie was interrupted by the science officer's voice.
|
|
"Captain, I'm getting some strange energy readings."
|
|
"What is the source, Ensign?"
|
|
"I can't quite tell, sir. It seems to be...all around us."
|
|
"It's just there?"
|
|
"Aye. All around for approximately seventy-five thousand
|
|
kilometres."
|
|
"Analysis."
|
|
"Is appears to be some sort of disturbance in the local
|
|
continuum."
|
|
"Any idea what it is?"
|
|
"No, sir. I've never seen anything like it before."
|
|
Before Picard could say anything else, Enterprise-C was
|
|
hailing.
|
|
"Go ahead, Commander."
|
|
"Captain, we've picked up a space-time distortion in our
|
|
vicinity."
|
|
"Same here, Number One. It's something new, not in the
|
|
memory banks."
|
|
"New for you, sir, but not for us. The energy pattern
|
|
matches the one preceding Enterprise-C's disappearance."
|
|
"Captain! Look!"
|
|
The viewer showed a spreading blank spot in the starfield.
|
|
More were appearing all around the trio of ships.
|
|
"Helm, keep us away from those!"
|
|
"Trying, sir."
|
|
The ship was now barely under control, lurching in constantly
|
|
changing directions. The reason she had yet to fall through one
|
|
of the rips was due more to the fact that they were being pulled
|
|
in too many directions at once, than because of any conscious
|
|
effort on the part of the crew.
|
|
"Commander Riker! What's your status?"
|
|
"Bad and getting worse. We're scarcely holding station and
|
|
the forces out there are getting worse."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Riker's knuckles turned white as he tried to dig his hands
|
|
into the armrest. "We simply don't have the power to hold up
|
|
against these tides, Captain."
|
|
"I wish we could help, Number One."
|
|
"Thanks anyway. Riker out."
|
|
Argyle was already at the bridge engineering station, having
|
|
run at full speed from the lower decks when all hell broke loose.
|
|
"Mr. Argyle, what's the status on the warp engines?"
|
|
"Sir, they haven't been used in eighty years! We can't-"
|
|
"We don't have time for unnecessary caution, Argyle. Can you
|
|
bring the mains online?"
|
|
The Lieutenant swallowed hard. "Aye, sir."
|
|
"Worf, prepare for full power. Data, get me Kaibatsu."
|
|
The ship heeled hard over, and it was all Riker could do to
|
|
keep from being thrown. The main lights went dead, and by the
|
|
time the emergency lights came on, Riker knew what had happened.
|
|
"Viewscreen aft."
|
|
Sparks leapt from the ship's hull where the power and
|
|
support trunks had been ripped clear. Kaibatsu was being pulled
|
|
away from her charge, and it was obvious that Enterprise-C would
|
|
soon be following if something wasn't done.
|
|
"Argyle, I want you down in engineering."
|
|
"Aye, sir," he said simply, and hit the door at a dead run.
|
|
"Number One, what's happening over there?"
|
|
The supply ship began to tumble, faster and faster into the
|
|
rip. A wave of helplessness washed over Riker as Kaibatsu was
|
|
swallowed whole. Riker began to foster the hope that maybe she
|
|
could return, as had the battlecruiser under Captain Romanov, but
|
|
it was dashed. Instabilities in the breakthrough ripped the
|
|
vessel into a million glowing shards that were engulfed in fire as
|
|
the magnetic containment on the anti-matter failed.
|
|
"Enterprise," said Riker flatly, "we've lost Kaibatsu."
|
|
But now Riker's ship was plummeting for that gaping maw in
|
|
space.
|
|
"No! You can't have this one," he seethed at the viewscreen.
|
|
"Full power, now!"
|
|
"Aye, sir." Worf touched the button over which his hand had
|
|
been hovering for what seemed a very long while, indeed.
|
|
The whine of the energisers rose from its usual subsonics to
|
|
a scream. Riker and the others were almost hauled forward out of
|
|
their chairs, and again power dimmed. This time, however, the
|
|
loss of power signified good. The full power of Enterprise-C's
|
|
transwarp engines came into play, dragging the ship out of the
|
|
abyss.
|
|
Argyle's voice was barely audible above the engine's noise.
|
|
"Commander, we can't keep the warp drives online much longer. The
|
|
mix is highly unstable!"
|
|
"Just a few minutes more ought to do."
|
|
Argyle was almost frantic. "But, sir!"
|
|
Just then, another hole opened up in space, but it was one
|
|
that they all recognised. Data was the first to react. "A
|
|
wormhole!"
|
|
Byproduct of an imbalanced warpfield, wormholes are
|
|
impossible to avoid once they are created. The ship shot forward
|
|
into the swirling orange vortex, much to all their relief.
|
|
This they could handle.
|
|
"Worf, sublight now. Argyle, disengage the warp drives."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Captain Picard, I've lost the battlecruiser on sensors.
|
|
Picking up a new energy pattern, though. A wormhole."
|
|
"They must have tried the warp drive. Helm, take us out of
|
|
here, full speed, on their last known heading."
|
|
"Aye, sir."
|
|
The intensity of the disturbances had relaxed to an extent,
|
|
and it was now feasible to warp out and avoid the remaining rips.
|
|
Enterprise galloped out of hell, leaving behind a multitude of
|
|
rips in the fabric of reality. Hardly a second later, she dropped
|
|
out of warp, ready to scan for her comrade, but that turned out to
|
|
be unnecessary. The helmsman had managed to put her within a
|
|
thousand kilometres of Enterprise-C.
|
|
Picard opened hailing frequencies. "Number One, I'm glad to
|
|
see you escaped. We were worried when we saw the wormhole."
|
|
"Kaibatsu wasn't so lucky, Captain. But I think that
|
|
wormhole may have saved us."
|
|
"What do you mean, Number One?"
|
|
"It pulled us out of there. I don't know if we would have
|
|
survived by just blindly warping out of there."
|
|
"I know what you mean. We had quite a time skirting those
|
|
dimensional chasms, even after some of them started to dissipate.
|
|
I have a question, Number One."
|
|
"What's that, sir?"
|
|
"You mentioned tides before. What exactly do you mean by
|
|
that?"
|
|
It was Data who responded. "These rips seem to be an
|
|
unnatural curve in space-time. Since gravity is a function of
|
|
normal curvature, these sudden changes result in abnormal
|
|
gravitational tides."
|
|
"What Cmdr. Data means, sir, is that it's part of the nature
|
|
of these rips to suck in things like ships."
|
|
"I see, Then I guess-"
|
|
"Wait a minute! We have something on sensors, something in
|
|
the rip zone."
|
|
Picard whirled to face the upper half of the bridge. "Do you
|
|
have it?"
|
|
"Sir, I don't- Hold on. There it is. One...no, two.
|
|
Three! Three objects moving away from the center of the zone at
|
|
high sublight velocity."
|
|
"Commander, what's your status?"
|
|
"We're only at sixty percent power, and we don't dare try to
|
|
engage the warp drive again."
|
|
"Not good." The young woman at the tactical station, Ensign
|
|
Hathoway, was waiting for something to do. It came her way.
|
|
"Open hailing frequencies to those vessels."
|
|
"Aye, sir. Channel open, Captain."
|
|
"This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the U.S.S. Enterprise to
|
|
unknown vessels. Please identify yourselves and state your
|
|
purpose. Our intentions are peaceful; we wish only to establish
|
|
communications with you.
|
|
"End message. Send on all frequencies, all known languages."
|
|
"Aye, sir.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Commander Riker, Enterprise is trying to hail the
|
|
unidentified ships."
|
|
"What's the range?"
|
|
"Two hundred thousand kilometres and closing."
|
|
"Can you tell me anything about those ships?"
|
|
"They do have warp capability, much like the pre-Transwarp
|
|
engines used by Starfleet."
|
|
"That makes their maximum speed about what?"
|
|
"Assuming same efficiency, Ultrawarp factor four point four."
|
|
"Not that fast."
|
|
"Sir, this ship can only do Ultrawarp five point three."
|
|
"Right now it can't even do that, Mr. Data. What's going on
|
|
out there?"
|
|
"Still no response. Range, one hundred seventy thousand
|
|
kilometres."
|
|
"Commander, this is Picard. Can you raise shields?"
|
|
"Mr. Worf?"
|
|
"Aye, sir, but only main shields, not reinforcements. And we
|
|
can power primary weapons, the megaphasers."
|
|
The battlecruiser mounted eight very heavy phasers of a
|
|
calibre which was usually reserved for Starbases and stationary
|
|
defense platforms. Four were mounted forward, on the beam of the
|
|
primary hull and also alongside the engineering hull mated to
|
|
their aft firing counterparts.
|
|
"Did you get that, Enterprise?"
|
|
"Indeed, Number One. I am ordering Yellow Alert."
|
|
"Same here. Mr. Worf, shields on standby."
|
|
"Aye, sir."
|
|
"Range is now closing through one hundred thousand
|
|
kilometres."
|
|
"Shields up."
|
|
"New energy pattern, sir. I believe they're arming weapons."
|
|
"Red Alert. Charge weapons. Open a channel.
|
|
"Unknown vessels, this is Commander William Riker of the
|
|
Enterprise. You are taking hostile action without provocation.
|
|
Cease at once; we do not mean to harm you. We-"
|
|
"They're firing!"
|
|
The three ships, moving as an equilateral triangle, fired a
|
|
combined volley. Energy lashed out in bright red beam across
|
|
Enterprise-C's bow, striking hard against her partner ship.
|
|
"Captain!"
|
|
"They breached shields, Number One. We're damaged."
|
|
"Captain, get the civilians out of here, now!"
|
|
"I can't leave you alone."
|
|
"You have no choice, sir. The civilians are more important.
|
|
"Cut channel. Worf, all shield energy forward. Put us
|
|
between them and the Enterprise."
|
|
"Aye, aye, sir."
|
|
"Prepare to fire."
|
|
"Locked on to lead ship."
|
|
Riker swallowed hard, wondering how things had come to this!
|
|
"Fire all phasers."
|
|
All four green lances converged at a single point on the
|
|
target's hull. Explosions ripped through the ship, breaking it in
|
|
half before the individual pieces shattered into nothingness.
|
|
Riker stared wide-eyed at the power unleashed by his ship.
|
|
The two remaining hostile ships, which had begun pursuit of
|
|
Picard's ship, now changed their minds and salvoed on the
|
|
battlecruiser. The ship lurched and the shields strained under
|
|
the impact.
|
|
"Shields critical, sir."
|
|
"Fire one phaser to disable only."
|
|
Another megaphaser shot burned through the blackness, slicing
|
|
through the aft end of its new target, presumable near the
|
|
engines.
|
|
"A hit, sir. She appears to be dead in space."
|
|
The third ship was circling in, readying for a shot that
|
|
would certainly have ripped through what was left of Enterprise-
|
|
C's shields like tissue paper. But at the last minute, the Galaxy
|
|
class ship moved in behind, a single photon torpedo striking the
|
|
unknown vessel dead aft. It, too, ceased hostilities.
|
|
"This is Captain Picard to unknown vessels. We would like to
|
|
offer you any assistance needed. We have room to take aboard
|
|
survivors and facilities for your wounded. Please let us help
|
|
you."
|
|
The answer came moments later. The viewscreen automatically
|
|
polarised against the blinding flash of one of the ship's self-
|
|
destruction. Then the other followed.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
From cwynne@liberty.uc.wlu.edu Tue Jan 12 15:52:29 1993
|
|
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|
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["51011" "Tue" "12" "January" "1993" "16:52:05" "+0500" "\"Colin J. Wynne\"" "cwynne@liberty.uc.wlu.edu" nil "1032" "GhostsFromThePast.3" "^From:" nil nil "1"])
|
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|
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|
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|
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|
|
From: "Colin J. Wynne" <cwynne@liberty.uc.wlu.edu>
|
|
To: asc <jfy@cis.ksu.edu>
|
|
Subject: GhostsFromThePast.3
|
|
Date: Tue, 12 Jan 1993 16:52:05 +0500 (EST)
|
|
|
|
This story is property of:
|
|
Colin J. Wynne
|
|
P.O. Box 4661
|
|
Lexington, VA 24450
|
|
(703) 464-4030
|
|
cwynne@liberty.uc.wlu.edu
|
|
|
|
Permission is given to distribute this story freely as long as this header
|
|
is included with all files/hardcopies/electronic postings.
|
|
|
|
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
"Ghosts from the Past," Ch. 7 through Ch. 9:
|
|
--------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
CHAPTER VII
|
|
|
|
|
|
Picard had seen ships self-destruct before, but it didn't
|
|
help to ease the emotions that he felt. He couldn't understand
|
|
anyone, or any race, that viewed death as the only way out of a
|
|
bad situation.
|
|
Even worse, he didn't know why they had been attacked in the
|
|
first place! Perhaps his hailing message had been misunderstood,
|
|
and then when the ships put their shields up, they interpreted the
|
|
action as hostile.
|
|
"Captain," announced Hathoway, one of Worf's leading security
|
|
ensigns, "Dr. Pulaski on the intercom."
|
|
"Yes, Doctor."
|
|
"I have the casualty report, Captain."
|
|
Picard sighed. "How bad?"
|
|
"Fourteen dead, all civilians, and twenty-eight wounded."
|
|
"My god. I'm sorry, Doctor. Please get me a list of the
|
|
fatalities, so I can try and offer some consolation to their
|
|
families."
|
|
Picard snapped off the intercom. That piece of news was
|
|
worse than anything that had happened so far. The Captain decided
|
|
that he was now in a suitably bad frame of mind that he might as
|
|
well get all the bad news over at once. "Captain to Engineering."
|
|
"LaForge here, Captain."
|
|
"Give me a damage report, Lieutenant."
|
|
"Not too bad from an engineering standpoint, Captain. The
|
|
hit was in the saucer, port aft. Some stored water bled off and a
|
|
few batteries were destroyed. One more thing, though. The
|
|
docking mechanism was damaged, so we can't separate the two hulls
|
|
until that's repaired."
|
|
"All right, then. We have to close the breach in the hull
|
|
first. The docking equipment is second. Then, use your
|
|
judgement."
|
|
"Aye, aye, sir."
|
|
"Ensign Hathoway, get me Commander Riker."
|
|
"On screen now, sir."
|
|
Riker's bearded face appeared on the screen. From the
|
|
details visible, it appeared as though he was in Engineering.
|
|
"Yes, sir?"
|
|
Picard detailed the damage and casualty report for his ship,
|
|
then inquired about the battlecruiser's status. Fortunately it
|
|
hadn't been damaged. But there was still a problem somewhere in
|
|
the ship. It wasn't regenerating its own power, and the beating
|
|
that the attackers had done the shields had drawn off a lot of
|
|
energy.
|
|
"So, if this sort of thing happens again, this ship might
|
|
become a derelict again."
|
|
"Commander, you have fifty of the best engineering techs in
|
|
all of Starfleet aboard that ship. They must be able to do
|
|
something."
|
|
"We're doing our best."
|
|
"Number One, those ships quite obviously came out of one of
|
|
those rips."
|
|
"Yes, sir. We reached the same conclusion over here."
|
|
"Mr. Data's team is going to have to start working round the
|
|
clock. I need to know what happened after your ship went through
|
|
the rip. We have to be able to deal with a recurrence of this."
|
|
"They're already on it, sir."
|
|
"One more thing, Number One. Regulations call for me to
|
|
convene a Board of Inquiry into your destruction of the lead
|
|
attacking vessel."
|
|
"I understand, sir."
|
|
"Fine. Then we'll convene at 1200 hours aboard my ship."
|
|
"Aye, aye, sir. Riker out."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Wesley was entering just as Riker signed off. "Gee,
|
|
Commander, I hope it's nothing really serious."
|
|
"Wes, I have an assignment for you."
|
|
In the manner of any proud boy being given some measure of
|
|
responsibility, Wesley straightened himself to his full height,
|
|
giving himself a tremendous inward smile. "Yes, sir?"
|
|
"Until we can find out why the energisers aren't working
|
|
properly, we need an alternate means of powering this ship. Now,
|
|
as I understand it, Transwarp and Ultrawarp energy are not easily
|
|
compatible, but it can theoretically be done?"
|
|
"Yes, sir. And you want me to figure out a way to do it?"
|
|
Will smiled. "That's exactly what I want you to do, Wes."
|
|
"I'll get right on it."
|
|
The commander left Wesley to his new task, and took several
|
|
ladders up to the main computer deck, at the very heart of the
|
|
saucer section. The turbolifts were shut down to conserve power.
|
|
That and other measures had rendered the ship effectively blacked-
|
|
out.
|
|
Data was hard at work in the main memory banks when the
|
|
Commander arrived. "How's it going, Data?"
|
|
"Not very well, sir. The memory is badly scrambled. Even
|
|
worse than I at first thought. The individual bits of information
|
|
have been deposited through random memory locations."
|
|
"What does that mean, Data?"
|
|
Data, who had been working and talking at the same time, now
|
|
turned his full attention to Riker. "Imagine, sir, that you have
|
|
hardcopies of ten letters, each of them ten pages long, in ten
|
|
separate piles. That is how the memory is supposed to be
|
|
organised. What we have here instead is that the pages of the
|
|
first letter are in the wrong order, and each page has been
|
|
randomly placed in one of the piles, maybe the correct one, but
|
|
more likely not. Each letter has been similarly displaced, in a
|
|
completely random fashion."
|
|
"Is there any way to recover all of the information?"
|
|
"Without a doubt, it can be done. But it will take time. I
|
|
will have to break down all stored memory and rebuild it, bit by
|
|
bit."
|
|
"How much time?"
|
|
"At best, maybe a week. Probably more."
|
|
"Can't you do any better?"
|
|
"It's not the process, sir. It has to do with the processing
|
|
speed of the computers that we use to rebuild the memory. The
|
|
computers on Enterprise-D are the best, short of Starfleet
|
|
Command's."
|
|
"I see."
|
|
"We're downloading the memory from the primary banks into the
|
|
backup, then to the Enterprise a piece at a time for processing,
|
|
and back into the main memory."
|
|
"How can the Enterprise rebuild the memory with only a little
|
|
bit to work on at a time?"
|
|
"It's like a jigsaw puzzle. The Enterprise figures out where
|
|
each bit originally was, assigns it back into that location, and
|
|
sends it back."
|
|
"I'll make a report of all of this when I see the Captain."
|
|
"Yes. I heard about the Board of Inquiry. Good luck, sir."
|
|
"Thanks. I hope I won't need it."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"This Board of Inquiry is now declared open. Commander
|
|
William Riker, we are convened here to examine the recent
|
|
destruction of an unidentified ship by your direct orders. Do you
|
|
deny the event?"
|
|
"I do not, sir."
|
|
The entire atmosphere of the Board was much too stiff and
|
|
formal compared to the close and relaxed style with which they
|
|
were all familiar. Even Captain Picard seemed rather ill-at-ease
|
|
about the whole situation, but he was required to conduct the
|
|
meeting.
|
|
Picard was at the head of the table in the briefing room, the
|
|
flowing stars just over his right shoulder. At the opposite side
|
|
in the proverbial hot seat was Will Riker. On either side of the
|
|
Captain were Troi and LaForge, serving alongside Picard as the
|
|
Board. Worf was next to Riker as a prime witness.
|
|
"To review for the record, when confronted with three unknown
|
|
vessels, and communication had not been established, you employed
|
|
excessive force in dealing with them, resulting in the total
|
|
destruction of one of the ships. Is this true?"
|
|
"It is, sir."
|
|
"You are aware that Starfleet policy requires all ship
|
|
captains in crisis situations to disable hostile ships, and that
|
|
the deliberate destruction of such vessels is contrary to all that
|
|
for which Starfleet stands?"
|
|
"Yes, sir."
|
|
"For the record, what have you to say in your defense?"
|
|
"The situation was quite demanding, sir. The hostiles had
|
|
attacked and damaged, without provocation, another Starfleet
|
|
vessel," (Although everyone in the room was more than aware of the
|
|
events, having lived through them, everything had to be clearly
|
|
stated due to the fact that the transcript would eventually end up
|
|
in front of a Starfleet Review Board).
|
|
"That vessel contained civilians, and it was necessary to
|
|
defend them. My own ship did not have the power to fight a
|
|
sustained battle, so decisive action was necessary. Although I
|
|
had not intended to destroy the target, my unfamiliarity with the
|
|
heavy weapons of an Alaska class battlecruiser resulted in the use
|
|
of greater firepower than I had expected."
|
|
"Commander, you are admitting lack of control over your
|
|
vessel. That does not speak well of your command abilities."
|
|
Riker swallowed hard. "Aye, sir."
|
|
At this point, Worf spoke up. "If I may, sir?"
|
|
"Yes, Lt. Worf."
|
|
"Sir, the very appearance of those ships justifies their
|
|
destruction."
|
|
Picard was piqued by this bold statement. "How so,
|
|
Lieutenant?"
|
|
"Since those ships are obviously hostile, the battlecruiser's
|
|
logs must be preserved."
|
|
"And that is sufficient grounds for excusing these charges?"
|
|
"Aye, sir. The ship's memory must have information about
|
|
those ships, where they came from, how to-" Worf paused for a
|
|
moment, enough to catch himself from saying 'destroy', which was a
|
|
suitable response that his non-Klingon shipmates would not be able
|
|
to appreciate. "Control," he continued, "these aggressive ships."
|
|
"I see."
|
|
Worf continued. "Besides, this is all a moot point, sir.
|
|
Had the ship been disabled, it would have self-destructed anyway."
|
|
"Anything you would like to add, Cmdr. Riker?"
|
|
"No, sir."
|
|
"Fine, you may take a ten minute recess while the Board
|
|
makes its decision."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Worf and Riker exited across the bridge and into the
|
|
Captain's ready room. Worf was the first to speak. "I do not
|
|
believe all of the...nonsense surrounding a simple combat reflex."
|
|
"Worf, Starfleet tries to protect life. What we should have
|
|
done is prevent those ships from harming us, then find out why
|
|
they attacked and resolve the situation. Peacefully."
|
|
"Yes, that is Starfleet policy. But how do you feel about
|
|
the situation?"
|
|
Riker smiled. "Worf, you do get right to the point, don't
|
|
you?"
|
|
"It serves no purpose to do otherwise, sir."
|
|
"Okay. I feel guilty about having destroyed that ship, and I
|
|
have been racking my brains trying to figure out how it could have
|
|
been avoided. But I keep running into the same thing: they would
|
|
have self-destructed anyway! What bothers me the most is that
|
|
they took their own lives when they didn't have to."
|
|
"And about this 'Board of Inquiry'?"
|
|
"It's a formality. I had to save the Enterprise. Both
|
|
Enterprises!"
|
|
Worf looked pensive for a moment. "I have been trained by
|
|
Starfleet, and I know its policies and its rationale. But as a
|
|
Klingon, I understand your position very well, and...I sympathise,
|
|
sir."
|
|
Riker was taken aback. He always knew that Worf was a
|
|
fiercely loyal officer, and would go far in Starfleet, but this
|
|
was the most outward show of personal loyalty that the Klingon had
|
|
ever made. Will had earned the respect of Klingons before, as a
|
|
temporary first officer aboard one of their ships. But somehow,
|
|
that hadn't meant all that much.
|
|
Will put his hand on Worf's shoulder. "Thank you. It is
|
|
very important to me to have your respect and your loyalty."
|
|
This exchange had by now made Worf uncomfortable. He was
|
|
standing quite rigidly. "Of course, sir. Ten minutes is up."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"The Board will now deliver its findings," announced Picard.
|
|
"Commander, due to the extreme stress of the situation, and
|
|
your unfamiliarity with your command, the Board has decided that
|
|
no punitive measures are in order." Picard looked to his right,
|
|
where Troi was seated.
|
|
"I can tell that the destruction of the attacking ship was
|
|
not purposeful, and that your remorse is genuine. It is my
|
|
opinion that, now that you know the capabilities of your ship,
|
|
nothing like this will happen again."
|
|
Seeing that the Counselor was finished, Geordi made his
|
|
comments. "Commander, the phaser cannons, or 'megaphasers', that
|
|
your ship is armed with are powerful. Two of those weapons have
|
|
more destructive capacity than this entire ship." He gestured
|
|
around him while he talked. "You couldn't really have been
|
|
expected to know what a full volley like that could do."
|
|
Picard spoke last. "Commander, I have had well over twenty
|
|
years experience as a starship captain, and have faced situations
|
|
like this one. It is my personal opinion that you did what was
|
|
necessary to save both of our ships, their crews, and countless
|
|
civilians. I would have done the exact same thing had I been in
|
|
your position.
|
|
"Number One, you are hereby cleared to continue your duties
|
|
as commanding officer aboard the Enterprise."
|
|
There was a collective sigh of relief around the table. They
|
|
all rose and passed by Riker on their way out. Troi passed by
|
|
first, pausing to give his hand a reassuring squeeze. "Will,
|
|
you're doing a great job over there. This really wasn't all
|
|
necessary."
|
|
"Thanks, Deanna."
|
|
LaForge was next. "I knew there wouldn't be any problems for
|
|
you, Commander. Good luck with your ship."
|
|
Worf was still standing next to him. "Sir, congratulations.
|
|
I am glad you will return as our captain."
|
|
Picard caught a look in Riker's eye as he responded that
|
|
hinted at something deeper, more profound, than he thought he had
|
|
seen before. "Thank you, Worf. I'll need you back aboard right
|
|
away to do some computer simulations on those megaphasers."
|
|
"Of course, sir.
|
|
Picard was loitering conspicuously behind. "Number One, I
|
|
hope you understand that I had to do this. Regulations and all."
|
|
"Certainly, Captain. I appreciate all your support."
|
|
"I really meant that. I would have done the same." There
|
|
was a brief pause. "Well, what are you waiting for? You've got a
|
|
ship to run. Get going!"
|
|
Riker's face glowed. "Aye, aye, sir!"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
It was well into third watch, a time that Picard was glad he
|
|
had free, because the day had been a tremendous drain on him, when
|
|
the Captain was awakened from his much needed slumber.
|
|
A faint pinging noise roused him, and as he noticed the
|
|
clockface, which read 23:26 hours, a voice accompanied it.
|
|
"Message from Starfleet, Captain."
|
|
"Give me five minutes; I'll be right up."
|
|
Picard dragged himself to sitting position. He paused to
|
|
count to ten, forcing himself to wake up. It worked.
|
|
"Lights," he ordered, and, four minutes later, was on his way
|
|
to the turbolift.
|
|
He just finished patting a few stray strands of hair into
|
|
place as he was disgorged onto the bridge. He wasn't used to
|
|
being on the bridge this late, and the contrast between the bright
|
|
worklights there and the diffuse midnight of the corridors was
|
|
slightly painful.
|
|
"On screen." The familiar features of Admiral Syltek
|
|
coalesced.
|
|
"Captain Picard, we have received your most recent report.
|
|
We all regret the loss of the support ship Kaibatsu. However, the
|
|
recovery of the battlecruiser remains of prime importance. A
|
|
support group has been dispatched to assist you. The group
|
|
includes a scout, a tug, and a light cruiser. They will signal
|
|
you for your ETA. Any questions, Captain?"
|
|
Picard searched his still slightly sleep-clouded mind. "What
|
|
about the rest of this sector?"
|
|
"A squadron from the Planetary Defense Fleet is due in your
|
|
sector for a standard patrol later this week. We have moved up
|
|
their arrival. It is the decision of the Council that a heavy
|
|
cruiser, two light cruisers, and four destroyers will suffice for
|
|
local defence in case of any more attacks.
|
|
"You are, of course, in command of the support group, Captain
|
|
Picard. Anything else?"
|
|
"No, sir. Thank you."
|
|
"Good luck, then."
|
|
The screen went blank.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
CHAPTER VIII
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Captain's Log, Stardate 42924.2: The ship is running
|
|
smoothly, and with the new support ships due in fifteen minutes we
|
|
have already completely repowered the ship. Acting-Ensign Crusher
|
|
has successfully developed a method whereby the Ultrawarp power of
|
|
our companion ship can be transferred into our own systems, and,
|
|
with miraculous timing, the engineers have just finished repairing
|
|
the main energisers.
|
|
"Unfortunately, we're still not set to run at warp speed yet.
|
|
The computers are having some difficulty balancing the anti-matter
|
|
reaction. We are therefore preparing to be taken in tow on the
|
|
tug's arrival."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The basic design of the fleet tug had remained unchanged for
|
|
over one-hundred years: a saucer with a dorsal connector, and the
|
|
two warp nacelles angled down and to the side. Where another ship
|
|
might have had a secondary hull, the tug would attach its payload.
|
|
Before the connection was made, however, there were numerous
|
|
supplies, spare parts, and extra crew members to transfer aboard
|
|
Enterprise-C.
|
|
Since the battlecruiser was now in almost perfect working
|
|
order, she needed more than a mere skeleton crew aboard to
|
|
run all of her systems, especially since she was supposed to help
|
|
the scout and Enterprise-D conduct a detailed scan of local space
|
|
on the return to Starbase.
|
|
Also brought aboard were raw materials for the ship's
|
|
synthesis vats, warheads and casings for the photon torpedoes, and
|
|
anything else that was needed by the crew. Riker left the bridge
|
|
to Worf while he was overseeing the loading procedure, which,
|
|
unfortunately, took several hours.
|
|
It took two more hours after that to assign duties and
|
|
watches, and to otherwise integrate the new crewmembers. Riker
|
|
decided that the administrative side of captaincy was far less
|
|
rewarding than the action and adventure side.
|
|
Finally, the tug linked up to the battlecruiser's primary
|
|
hull, and the group moved off. The Enterprises, along with the
|
|
scout Cassandra, were making very detailed scans of the space
|
|
around them, in hopes of giving the defense squadron sufficient
|
|
warning of attacks.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Data had been making it his habit to check on the memory
|
|
every three hours, and knew that the check he was about to make
|
|
would reveal that they were very close to a breakthrough in some
|
|
area.
|
|
He walked over to the screen that was monitoring the rebuild
|
|
process, and his estimates were confirmed. "Commander Riker," he
|
|
said to his communicator.
|
|
"Yes, Mr. Data?"
|
|
"I believe I have something for you, sir."
|
|
"I'll be right down."
|
|
True to his word, the door was sliding closed behind Will
|
|
only minutes later. He looked eager. "All right, Data, what can
|
|
you tell me?"
|
|
"I have some information for you from the computers about
|
|
these rips."
|
|
"Great. How'd you do it so fast? I thought you said it
|
|
would be at least a week."
|
|
"I put a new priority into the reorganisation program in
|
|
Enterprise-D's computer."
|
|
"What did you change?"
|
|
"Instead of organising the information in chronological
|
|
order, the order in which it was recorded, I told the computer to
|
|
look for certain information, specifically, scientific data on the
|
|
rips."
|
|
"And so you have all of that now?"
|
|
"Not all, sir. There are still gaps, but we have some
|
|
important information. Would you like me to put it on screen?"
|
|
"Fine, fine. Let's take a look."
|
|
Riker's eyed bored into the display as information began to
|
|
flow across. The rips, as scanned, best matched something known
|
|
as a dimensional interphase, a passageway between two normally
|
|
separated points in space that made them temporarily connected.
|
|
What wasn't obvious, however, was whether the interphase
|
|
doorways led to another dimension, as had some previously recorded
|
|
examples, another universe, or simply somewhere else in this
|
|
universe - maybe even somewhere else in the Milky Way galaxy.
|
|
As a natural phenomenon, the rips were apparently almost
|
|
entirely random, but, more importantly, they could somehow be
|
|
controlled, even induced. The Enterprise had in some manner
|
|
created its own rip to return to Federation space after it had
|
|
been pulled through. But the random element had caused the ship
|
|
to reappear so far away from its point of departure.
|
|
"Data, this is great. I have to get in touch with the
|
|
Captain and tell him-"
|
|
"Captain to the bridge immediately," announced the computer,
|
|
and the klaxon droned a Yellow Alert signal to accentuate the
|
|
point.
|
|
"Data, on the bridge, now!"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Status," ordered Riker as he and the android entered the
|
|
bridge.
|
|
Worf answered. "Rip zone detected, one five three mark four,
|
|
range, six hundred thousand kilometres."
|
|
"Sir," interrupted Data, "Captain Picard hailing."
|
|
"On screen."
|
|
"Number One, how's your ship?"
|
|
"I have everything except warp speed, Captain."
|
|
"Good. I want you to undock, then accompany the Halifax for
|
|
a close investigation of the disturbance."
|
|
"Understood, sir. Riker out. Data, get the Van Maanen.
|
|
Have them release all moorings. Worf, plot a course for the zone,
|
|
and engage as soon as we're free."
|
|
"Aye, sir."
|
|
First, the tractor beam was deactivated, and then the
|
|
physical connections were released. Before the ship could drift
|
|
more than a hundred feet, the small reaction thrusters hissed,
|
|
turning Enterprise toward the target zone, and she and the light
|
|
cruiser headed off.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Ultrawarp technology was a relatively new development for
|
|
Starfleet, though not so new that all of the front-line ships in
|
|
the fleet, especially the Planetary Defense Fleet, hadn't been
|
|
replaced with Ultrawarp.
|
|
Transwarp had kept Federation ships marginally ahead of their
|
|
competition, but a completely new breakthrough in warp technology
|
|
had created Ultrawarp, first used in the Galaxy class starships,
|
|
then used to upgrade the ships of the PD-Fleet, while their old
|
|
ships were retired to mothball service.
|
|
Of course, the PD-Fleet hardly had the duties it did when the
|
|
galaxy was a generally more hostile place, but there was always
|
|
need for routine patrols, anti-piracy, neutral zone patrols, and
|
|
other such missions.
|
|
This all made Starfleet the most advanced collection of ships
|
|
in space, with Ultrawarp Defence ships and Galaxy class
|
|
exploration cruisers.
|
|
Halifax was a beautiful ship, possessed more of the graceful
|
|
lines of an Ultrawarp ship than of the lethal silhouette of the
|
|
battlecruiser that accompanied her. Her primary hull was more
|
|
elliptical than circular, and the aft end was decorated with the
|
|
two nacelles that curved up and abeam of the saucer.
|
|
The two ships halted around the edge of the zone, moving into
|
|
perpendicular orbits for maximum sensor efficiency. For several
|
|
minutes they recorded in minute detail everything their sensors
|
|
could glean from the affected region. But the routine scan was
|
|
interrupted, as Riker feared it might be.
|
|
Data announced it. "Sensor contact, sir. Three ships in the
|
|
middle of the zone, heading three six two mark zero."
|
|
"That's straight for Enterprise-D. Signal the Halifax to
|
|
interpose herself at the fringe of the zone. We'll join her."
|
|
"Aye, sir."
|
|
"Worf, make it so."
|
|
With a few quick moves of his hand, the ship took off in a
|
|
smooth curve to intercept the new ships. While they were en
|
|
route, Riker tried to contact the arrivals. Despite all his
|
|
efforts, they would not respond. Will had hoped against reality
|
|
that the attack that had resulted from the first meeting with
|
|
these unknown beings was just a horrendous misunderstanding.
|
|
So much for hope. "Vessels are charging weapons, Commander."
|
|
Worf added, "We are being scanned, sir."
|
|
"How?"
|
|
"Fire control. Halifax is being targeted as well."
|
|
"Red Alert."
|
|
The computer picked up his words and automatically sounded
|
|
the klaxon. "Weapons charging, shields at full power," reported
|
|
Worf.
|
|
"Target the lead vessel. Do they have shields?"
|
|
"Some sort of an energy field does surround the vessel, sir.
|
|
That is interesting, considering that the initial trio of ships
|
|
encountered did not have any apparent defenses to-"
|
|
"Later, Data."
|
|
"Yes, sir."
|
|
"Worf, I want you to disable the lead ship." Then he added,
|
|
his recent experience returning to him, "And only disable it."
|
|
"Of course, sir."
|
|
This time, with the ship at full power and all weapons
|
|
working, there was no need to rely solely on the megaphasers.
|
|
Three of the ship's saucer mounted phaser banks spat lightning.
|
|
The bolts struck the alien defense shielding and were absorbed.
|
|
Riker leaned forward in his chair. The phaser fire simply
|
|
disappeared into the invisible alien shields. "Megaphasers, now!"
|
|
Two of the heavier weapons struck the same place. There was
|
|
a flash, and it was soon obvious that the shots had scored.
|
|
The attacker was now dead in space, her weapons quickly
|
|
losing power, but with what she had left, nine missiles were
|
|
propelled from her hull.
|
|
"Target has launched missiles," said Worf. Other ships are
|
|
firing."
|
|
"Evasive!"
|
|
Both of the attackers' beam weapons converged on the
|
|
battlecruiser's flank shields.
|
|
"Shields penetrated, Commander. Minor damage lower decks."
|
|
"My god, that's powerful. Take out those missiles, phasers
|
|
on rapid-fire."
|
|
The ship's phasers, firing in small, low power bursts,
|
|
swatted at the incoming flies. Scanners had trouble picking out
|
|
the small targets, and the Enterprise was only able to shoot down
|
|
seven. The remaining two hit the same part of the shields, which
|
|
had only had slight power restored to it.
|
|
The ship lurched, and Riker felt the explosion through the
|
|
deck. Data reported on the damage, all traces of his usual
|
|
longwindedness gone. "Hull breached. Integrity destroyed on
|
|
decks eighteen to twenty-three. Electrical fires."
|
|
"Get damage control on that right now. Mr. Worf report."
|
|
"Remaining ships split off after attacking. Circling around
|
|
for another pass."
|
|
The first ship detonated to punctuate the reality of Worf's
|
|
statement. Unleashed energy washed across Halifax's shields, but
|
|
not enough to penetrate. "Damn! Why...?" But Riker's question
|
|
hung in everyone's mind. Who were these mysterious attackers, and
|
|
what did they have to hide that they would always destroy
|
|
themselves when damaged? But there were more pressing matters.
|
|
"Worf, you saw that last ship. Do you have an idea how much
|
|
it will take to just puncture the shields on one of those ships?"
|
|
"I think, sir, that a full salvo from the phaser cannon would
|
|
disable the ship without destroying it."
|
|
"Fine, prepare to fire on the nearer ship as they come
|
|
around."
|
|
"Aye, sir."
|
|
"Data, do you get lifeform readings on that ship?"
|
|
"Yes, sir, but very different from anything that I know of.
|
|
They do appear to have an oxygen based atmosphere, however."
|
|
"Excellent. Transporter room?"
|
|
"Transporters, aye, sir."
|
|
"As soon as her shields are down, I want you to beam as many
|
|
beings as you can off of her."
|
|
"Understood, Commander."
|
|
"Have Halifax take the other ship when we make our move."
|
|
"Yes, sir."
|
|
The two ships completed their opposite circles and joined up
|
|
again, bearing down on the Federation vessels. "Tell Halifax to
|
|
swing around. They're after us."
|
|
The light cruiser shot off in a wide arc away from Enterprise
|
|
around the attackers' flank. Worf waited as long as he dared and
|
|
fired. As calculated, the salvo crumpled the ship's shields, in
|
|
the same bright flash as before.
|
|
Halifax, meanwhile was circling around on the last ship. The
|
|
running battle had brought the group of ships treacherously close
|
|
to the rip zone. Bright misplaced swaths of stars were visible in
|
|
the background.
|
|
Having seen its fallen comrade, though, the last ship turned
|
|
around and headed at full power into the rip zone. The light
|
|
cruiser couldn't follow into the area without too much danger to
|
|
itself, and with the distance rapidly increasing, the parting
|
|
salvo from her two saucer mounted phaser rings couldn't deal out
|
|
any damage.
|
|
The mysterious ship skirted all of the rips, until it dove
|
|
back into one of them, right in the middle of the zone. "Worf,
|
|
give that crippled ship a wide berth. Data, transmit help
|
|
messages."
|
|
The answer was no less than Riker had expected, unfortunately
|
|
- a glowing fireball against the blackness.
|
|
"All right. Let's head back to the rest of the group."
|
|
"Sir," said Data, "we took some casualties in Engineering."
|
|
"Engineering?"
|
|
"Yes, sir. There was no one on the lower decks when they
|
|
were hit."
|
|
"Data, take the conn. I'm going to have a look for myself."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The turbolift door parted to admit air thick with the stench
|
|
of burned circuitry. Riker stepped into a room filled with a
|
|
slight haze of smoke.
|
|
"What the hell happened down here? Where's Lt. Argyle?"
|
|
"Over here," said a distant voice. Riker squinted through
|
|
the mist and saw the Engineer's gold uniform standing near a
|
|
medical team.
|
|
"Argyle, are you hurt?"
|
|
"No, not me. It's the shield crew."
|
|
Riker was relieved. He couldn't afford to let anything
|
|
happen to Argyle. Suppressing a strong urge to cough, Riker
|
|
crossed the room. All around, techs were going over the monitors,
|
|
checking for damage, and generally being as efficient as they
|
|
could.
|
|
In the corner of Engineering, the space devoted to shield
|
|
generating and monitoring equipment, a med team was speaking in
|
|
low and urgent voices. Before he could see what was happening, he
|
|
managed to pick up that four people had been injured, two badly,
|
|
by an equipment malfunction.
|
|
Then he leaned over Argyle' shoulder and-
|
|
"Oh, no..."
|
|
"I was going to tell you, sir, but I didn't want to panic you
|
|
all up on the bridge."
|
|
Four bodies were sprawled on the floor. Nearest the aft
|
|
wall, Wesley lay unconscious. His uniform was covered in scorch
|
|
marks, and the sleeves were burnt off. His arms were burned and
|
|
bloody, and one of his legs was at an odd angle.
|
|
"How bad is he?"
|
|
The doctor that had come over with the second group of
|
|
crewmen looked up from where he was attending a more serious case.
|
|
"Burns and scratches, broken leg, maybe a concussion. We have
|
|
more serious things to take care of now."
|
|
The doctor, an older man with a thick head of grey hair,
|
|
returned his gaze to a tech who was laying face down. Riker
|
|
gasped. His uniform, too, was scorched, as were, Riker now
|
|
noticed, those of the other two. But the one with the doctor was
|
|
bleeding from his ears, and his left shoulder blade was visible
|
|
under shredded skin.
|
|
One more didn't look physically injured, but was twitching
|
|
horribly. He looked like he had taken a strong dose of
|
|
electricity. The fourth, the only conscious one of the
|
|
casualties, was sitting in one of the operator's chairs, looking
|
|
dazed and bleeding from a gash in his leg.
|
|
Argyle removed himself from the compartment, tugging at
|
|
Riker's elbow as he did so. Will followed the other man to the
|
|
Engineer's office, off to the side of the intermix chamber.
|
|
"I, uh, have some bad news for you, Commander."
|
|
"And that wasn't bad enough?"
|
|
"It was his fault."
|
|
"What? Whose?"
|
|
"Ensign Crusher's."
|
|
"You've got to be joking. Argyle, what-"
|
|
"I'm sorry, Commander, but I was monitoring shield control
|
|
when it happened."
|
|
A good captain needed to be objective. Riker willed himself
|
|
to sit still and listen. "Just after our first shot, Wesley was
|
|
saying something about having just thought of a way to increase
|
|
output to shields. He said something about recalibrating the coil
|
|
microscanners to repeat density output.
|
|
"I'm sure you don't know what that means, but anyway, the
|
|
shield control officer told him to forget about it, because we
|
|
were in the middle of combat and he had duties to attend to.
|
|
"Then after that first hit that punched through the shields,
|
|
he started trying to do it. Jumped up and said that we needed the
|
|
shields, and it would only take a minute to do. The lieutenant
|
|
told him to return to his post, ordered him, but he kept at it.
|
|
Then we took that second hit and the generators overloaded,
|
|
because of what he was doing."
|
|
Riker sighed and put his face in his hands. "Yeah. That's
|
|
just like him - once he gets an idea, he goes into it head first.
|
|
I have to make a report to the Captain. Tell the doctor to
|
|
prepare to medivac the wounded. They have better facilities over
|
|
there."
|
|
"Aye, sir."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
CHAPTER IX
|
|
|
|
|
|
Footsteps reverberated off of the Starbase's metal corridors.
|
|
Riker and Worf had left the battlecruiser to attend to the
|
|
interrogation of the aliens that Riker had had beamed aboard
|
|
during the last battle.
|
|
At least, that's why Riker told himself he was going along.
|
|
His presence really wasn't necessary, but he couldn't stand just
|
|
now to be aboard Enterprise-C, because the order had come down
|
|
from Starfleet Command that, after its arrival at Starbase 42, the
|
|
ship was to be formally decommissioned and turned over to a team of
|
|
Starfleet specialists that would continue the work that Riker's
|
|
crew had started. As soon as his crew had started deactivating
|
|
systems and packing their belongings, Will had decided that it was
|
|
time to leave.
|
|
But he didn't really want to think about that now. He had
|
|
yet to see the aliens. They had been beamed directly to the
|
|
sickbay stasis fields. Stasis was used normally to prevent the
|
|
deterioration of critical patients, because, once inside of a
|
|
stasis field, time stopped. The technology had been used by some
|
|
race of beings who used to control, or at least populate, all of
|
|
known space, and the occasional discovery of pieces of their
|
|
technology had found fruitful application in Starfleet.
|
|
After arrival at Starbase, the aliens had been transferred
|
|
directly to a holding area, so none of the crew had ever actually
|
|
seen them. The Chief of Base Security met Worf and Riker in a
|
|
small briefing room adjoining the interrogation area.
|
|
"Ah, I'm glad you two are here." He turned towards the
|
|
Klingon. "You must be Lt. Worf, and you, of course, Capt. Riker."
|
|
"It's Commander." The Security Officer noticed Will's rank
|
|
insignia, apparently for the first time.
|
|
"Yes, so it is. My apologies. They simply told me that you
|
|
were the battlecruiser's commanding officer, so I assumed-"
|
|
"Of course. No harm done." Will did not like the man's tone
|
|
of voice. He was a captain himself, and it sounded like he felt
|
|
more than a touch of snobbery that one of a lower rank should hold
|
|
a command position.
|
|
"Shall we get started, then?"
|
|
The trio moved through a security door to the room where the
|
|
detainees were being held. Having served most of his time in
|
|
Starfleet with humanoid aliens, like Worf and the Andorian that
|
|
now accompanied them, Riker was more than a bit surprised by the
|
|
sight of the three aliens that greeted his eyes.
|
|
They were not humanoid. Riker tried to assimilate what he
|
|
was seeing as a first impression, to think of something of which
|
|
these creatures reminded him - but there was no such thing. The
|
|
largest part of their bodies was the midsection. It was
|
|
triangular, each point serving as a hip joint for one of the three
|
|
legs, with the apex at the back. The waist area was thick, and
|
|
carapaced in a mottled green exoskeleton. The legs were short and
|
|
thick, with ball joints at the knees giving their stances a
|
|
bowlegged appearance.
|
|
Riker did a double take as he noticed that the beings had
|
|
three eyes - one atop each hip joint, which were themselves
|
|
covered in the same exoskeletal material. Above the midsection,
|
|
though, they appeared to be a completely different creature.
|
|
Instead of the chitin-covered appearance of the lower half, the
|
|
top would have been formless, had it not been held up by a few
|
|
pieces of carapaced armour.
|
|
The torso was held to a sort of egg shape, with a long piece
|
|
of armour covering what would have been a spine. Three tentacle-
|
|
like arms protruded, one each from the front and sides, with the
|
|
shoulder joint partially reinforced by exoskeleton. Each arm
|
|
ended in a tripartite division, the single large tentacles
|
|
breaking down into three smaller finger-like ones. The tip of
|
|
each finger was armoured. The slit at the top of the body was
|
|
probably a mouth.
|
|
"Yes, it is. At least, that's what they eat through."
|
|
"What about talking?"
|
|
"We don't know. They've been absolutely silent so far. So
|
|
the first thing that needs to be done is getting them to talk for
|
|
the universal translator. Then we can get some information."
|
|
Riker looked again at the three aliens, perfectly still over
|
|
in the corner. "Uh, where do we start?"
|
|
"Leave that to us," answered Worf.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
An hour later, Riker was again wandering aimlessly in the
|
|
Base's corridors. The aliens simply refused to say anything (the
|
|
partial logs on the battlecruiser made mention to the fact that
|
|
the aliens had some means of verbal communication, as loathe as
|
|
they seemed to be to demonstrate that now) and there was nothing
|
|
that Will could do to help things along.
|
|
He soon found himself at the gangway leading back to his ship
|
|
- his former ship, that is. If nothing else, there was a load of
|
|
paper work that he was expected to do, the standard forms 'upon
|
|
completion of a starship cruise of less than six weeks duration'.
|
|
Simple enough, but there were twenty pages, at least.
|
|
The sight of the empty corridors, dark and quiet, sent a wave
|
|
of depression over him. Riker had always viewed command as a goal
|
|
to look forward to - several years down the line. He had already
|
|
turned down one command because of two things: he wanted to stay
|
|
on the Enterprise, and he came to the decision that he wasn't
|
|
experienced enough for an extended command.
|
|
The worst thing was that Riker couldn't understand why he was
|
|
feeling the way he was. He didn't want a command right now! At
|
|
least he didn't think that he did.
|
|
By now Will had reached the bridge. He stepped out of the
|
|
turbolift and crossed the room - which was larger than that of a
|
|
Galaxy class ship's - to the center chair.
|
|
"Captain's Log, Final Entry, Stardate 42932.3: Now that the
|
|
ship has been successfully transferred to Starbase 42, my duties
|
|
here are finished. I am proud to say that I leave this ship much
|
|
better than I found her, and I share that pride with the excellent
|
|
crew I've had for these past weeks.
|
|
"As a first command, I am content with the job that I have
|
|
done here. For the most part, I feel ready to return now to being
|
|
Capt. Picard's First Officer, but I also..."
|
|
Riker clicked off the recorder without even thinking why.
|
|
Deep down in his mind, in the very basic responses that made Will
|
|
Riker his own person, something said that he had no right to
|
|
finish that sentence, and that he also shouldn't show the weakness
|
|
to which he was about to allude.
|
|
"Computer, delete the last sentence of previous log entry."
|
|
The computer thought momentarily. "Acknowledged. Action
|
|
complete."
|
|
Just then, the turbolift opened, and a group of technicians
|
|
emerged to finish up work on the bridge. Riker decided he'd
|
|
rather be somewhere else.
|
|
"Riker to Enterprise-D."
|
|
"Enterprise, sir. Hathoway here."
|
|
"Get me Counselor Troi, please."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Shortly thereafter, back aboard the Galaxy class ship
|
|
Enterprise, Will and Troi entered the sickbay. Riker was now all
|
|
but officially removed from command of the battlecruiser - he had
|
|
no more duties aboard her now. He figured it was best for him to
|
|
get back to his duties as exec as quickly as possible.
|
|
Surprisingly, there was no backlog of things that needed his
|
|
attention. Geordi and the Captain must have been working pretty
|
|
hard.
|
|
One of the first things that he had to do was to deal with
|
|
Wesley. There were two problems there. First, he could be
|
|
brought up on charges for disobeying direct orders under fire, a
|
|
serious offense, and Riker would, having been commanding officer
|
|
at the time, have to decide on appropriate punishment. Second
|
|
(and the reason for the Counselor's presence), Riker had to inform
|
|
a sixteen-year-old boy that his actions almost caused the death of
|
|
four people, including himself. There was no telling how Wesley
|
|
would take something like that.
|
|
Dr. Pulaski was present as the two entered her sickbay.
|
|
"I assume you two are here to speak with Wes?"
|
|
"Yes, Doctor. Is he awake?" asked Troi.
|
|
"Yes, just. He was out for three days recovering from that
|
|
concussion, and he wasn't entirely coherent after that, so I put
|
|
him back under to give the regenerators a chance to work on his
|
|
burns."
|
|
"Then I guess we have good timing. I didn't really want him
|
|
up and around too much before we came by," commented Riker.
|
|
"Not all timing," responded Pulaski. "I din't exactly rush
|
|
the treatment, for that very reason."
|
|
Riker allowed a smile. "I beg your pardon. Excellent
|
|
foresight, Doctor. Can we see him now?"
|
|
"Of course. Right through here."
|
|
As the Doctor started to leave, the intercom started
|
|
announcing Will's name.
|
|
"Just a second, please. Riker here," he said after tapping
|
|
his communicator.
|
|
"Commander, this is Worf." As though he couldn't tell by the
|
|
voice.
|
|
"What is it Lieutenant?"
|
|
"The interrogation has been completely unsuccessful. The
|
|
prisoners refuse to speak."
|
|
Riker realised that, even without the command of a ship, he
|
|
was still in charge of things that he had started, like the
|
|
situation with the aliens.
|
|
Will looked at Pulaski while he spoke. "How does the
|
|
security captain feel about a full medscan on the detainees?"
|
|
Riker made the emphasis simply because he didn't feel the term
|
|
'prisoners' to be appropriate.
|
|
"He had suggested just that."
|
|
"I'm glad he agrees. Doctor, would you mind?"
|
|
"Not at all, Will."
|
|
"Excellent. I'm sure Dr. Crusher will want in on this as
|
|
well. Mr. Worf, the doctor will be making a housecall."
|
|
"Of course, sir. Worf out."
|
|
Pulaski laughed. "Well, I'll get my things together. Wesley
|
|
is right through that door."
|
|
All levity vanished as Riker and Deanna walked through the
|
|
door. It was obvious that Wes knew that he didn't know something.
|
|
"At last! Are you going to tell me what's going on around here?"
|
|
Riker was the first to speak, after the two officers took a
|
|
seat near the boy's bed.
|
|
"Wes, tell me what you remember."
|
|
"That's easy. It's all I've been able to think about since I
|
|
woke up." He began walking around the room and gesticulating as
|
|
though he were talking to himself, or thinking out loud. "We were
|
|
under attack, and the shields weren't holding. All I needed to do
|
|
was recalibrate the microscanners - " He turned towards Troi and
|
|
Riker, "That's the part of the shield generator that creates the
|
|
matrix for the shields." He turned in on himself again. "I was
|
|
working on it and then I think we took a hit in Engineering,
|
|
because that's when I blacked out. The ship wasn't damaged badly,
|
|
was it?" The last was to Riker.
|
|
He ignored the comment and stayed on the subject. "Wes,
|
|
weren't you ordered to leave the generators alone."
|
|
He was back kneeling on the bed now. "Yeah, I guess so. But
|
|
it had to be done! The shields just weren't powerful enough."
|
|
"So you were given a direct order by your superior and you
|
|
disobeyed it." Deanna face's looked like she had just seen Will
|
|
run the boy through on a sword. He ignored it, for now.
|
|
"But -"
|
|
Riker's voice took on a harsh edge. "Did you or did you not
|
|
disobey a direct order, Acting-Ensign Crusher?"
|
|
"Will!"
|
|
He silenced Deanna with a flick of his hand. Of course Troi
|
|
was right that Wes would need to be handled with care - after he'd
|
|
been made to realise what he had done.
|
|
There was a long silence. Wesley responded in a voice heavily
|
|
laden with formality, as though he were insulted to have to admit
|
|
to the fact. "Yes, sir, I did."
|
|
"Why?"
|
|
"Because it was obvious that the shields couldn't take
|
|
another hit from the attackers as they were, and I saw no harm in
|
|
what I was doing."
|
|
"No harm?"
|
|
"Yes, sir."
|
|
"And what do you call four casualties?"
|
|
Surprise replaced the emotions on Wesley's face. "What?"
|
|
Riker's tone of voice softened accordingly.
|
|
"Everyone in shield control was injured, two of them pretty
|
|
badly. While you were working on the microscanners, the ship took
|
|
a hit, which caused the generators to overload completely."
|
|
Wesley was visibly staggered. "Because..."
|
|
Riker tried his best to sound fatherly and understanding.
|
|
"Because of what you did."
|
|
Wes fell back to a prone position. "It's all my fault," he
|
|
said, half unbelieving, half in frustration. Almost immediately
|
|
he sat back up. "I've got to see them, to say something!" He
|
|
started to jump up.
|
|
"Wait! They're not on board. The other three are on the
|
|
Starbase."
|
|
Finally, Troi jumped into the conversation. "I don't think
|
|
you should see them just yet. I think, Wes, that maybe we should
|
|
talk. After all-"
|
|
Wes wasn't taking it at all well. "Talk! About who I want
|
|
to try and kill this week?" Troi started towards Wes, who was
|
|
almost in tears now, and still raving. Riker held her back.
|
|
Again he felt that Troi's brand of helping Wesley deal with his
|
|
actions could wait.
|
|
"Mr. Crusher!" It was the closest Riker had ever come to
|
|
yelling at Wes, and it easily caught the boy's attention.
|
|
"Yes, sir," he said meekly.
|
|
Again, Riker's tone softened. "I'm afraid I can't say that I
|
|
know how you're feeling. But I think I can say that I know you
|
|
should have someone help you deal with this. I could order you to
|
|
undergo treatment with Counselor Troi, or I could have Dr. Pulaski
|
|
prescribe it to you. But I think it would be wise of you to be
|
|
mature enough to make your own decisions."
|
|
"Yes, sir."
|
|
"Look, Wes, I'm only trying to help you."
|
|
"I know. I'm sorry, sir, about the way I acted."
|
|
"Do you want to talk to Counselor Troi now?"
|
|
"Not right now." Riker started to interject something.
|
|
"Don't worry, I will, I just want to be alone right now. Please?"
|
|
"All right."
|
|
"It's okay, Wes. I'll come and see you later."
|
|
"Thanks."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Starbase 42's Operations Room was a large place. Commodore
|
|
Blackwell entered the room on large strides, and several junior
|
|
officers scurried to keep up. There was a huge viewscreen on the
|
|
opposite wall, and almost every other inch of the room was filled
|
|
with consoles and their operators.
|
|
"What's going on around here?"
|
|
A captain quickly crossed the compartment from one of the
|
|
forward stations. "Sir, we're getting reports from all of the
|
|
sector. Unidentified warships have been sighted. They could be
|
|
the same as reported by the Enterprise."
|
|
"How many reports?"
|
|
"Over one-hundred and fifty."
|
|
"Oh, boy. Have you done anything yet?"
|
|
"There have been no attacks as of yet, so no, I haven't."
|
|
"Very well. Put the Sector on Yellow Alert."
|
|
"Aye, aye, sir. Anything else."
|
|
"Have all system defense fleets scramble and put on alert
|
|
status. Request backup units from Starfleet Command."
|
|
"Aye, sir."
|
|
The Commodore scratched his greying beard. "We could have
|
|
ourselves one hell of a problem."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Late that afternoon, Riker was on the bridge, at his post
|
|
next to Captain Picard. Will was being rather quiet, sullen in
|
|
fact, but the Captain had refrained from saying anything; after
|
|
all, the First Officer's duties hadn't been impaired by his
|
|
moodiness. In any event, it would pass.
|
|
Picard turned towards his exec. He opened his mouth to say
|
|
something just as the turbolift doors opened. The two doctors
|
|
emerged onto the bridge.
|
|
Dr. Crusher spoke first. "Captain, we have some very good
|
|
news for you."
|
|
"Indeed. What is it?"
|
|
Pulaski answered, "We finished the medscan on the subjects,
|
|
and managed to adapt one of our standard hypo sprays to be used on
|
|
them."
|
|
Crusher continued, "We gave them an injection to loosen their
|
|
tongues, so to speak. Mr. Worf should be up soon to report on the
|
|
results."
|
|
To accent the point, the Klingon's bulky frame appeared
|
|
behind the lift doors.
|
|
"Excellent, all of you. Doctors, would you care to join me
|
|
in the ready room?"
|
|
The three of them headed for the adjacent compartment. Riker
|
|
watched the receding figures but what he saw instead was the two
|
|
rather comely women following the distinguished Picard.
|
|
This brought a smile to his face. "And it's always ready."
|
|
Data turned from his console. "Sir?"
|
|
"Never mind."
|
|
Picard turned, his voice filled with sarcasm as he turned.
|
|
"Commander, would you and Lt. Worf care to join us?"
|
|
"Of course, sir."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The five officers were seated about the ready room.
|
|
"Interesting," noted the Captain, as the doctors finished their
|
|
analysis of the aliens. "They're really that different."
|
|
Pulaski answered. "Indeed. They breathe oxygen, and some of
|
|
the basic biochemistry appears to be the same as most known races,
|
|
such as humans or Klingons for example, but beyond that..."
|
|
Dr. Crusher added, "Their chromosomes come in triplets,
|
|
instead of pairs, and their gene structure is wildly different
|
|
from anything I've even heard about."
|
|
"Lt. Worf, what were you able to learn from them?"
|
|
"Some very important things, Captain."
|
|
"Such as?"
|
|
"The prisoners' ship was one of many scouting groups from a
|
|
very large fleet."
|
|
"An entire fleet? How many? A few hundred?"
|
|
"Several thousand, sir."
|
|
There were gasps around the room. Beverly Crusher gave their
|
|
mutual fears voice, "Oh, my God..."
|
|
"Are you sure?" asked Riker
|
|
"Yes, sir. And, more importantly, they are massing for an
|
|
invasion."
|
|
"Into the Federation?" asked Picard.
|
|
"They do not know of the Federation. The target is this area
|
|
of space, but they do not now where or when."
|
|
"Number One, I want you to relay this information to the
|
|
Starbase and to Starfleet Command. Immediately!"
|
|
"Yes,sir." Riker rose to leave.
|
|
"Anything else, Mr. Worf?"
|
|
"Yes. They are all some sort of engineers, from what they
|
|
call a 'breach-drive'."
|
|
"Does that mean-"
|
|
"That they can control these rips. Yes, sir."
|
|
"Add that, too, Number One."
|
|
"On my way."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
From cwynne@liberty.uc.wlu.edu Tue Jan 12 15:52:47 1993
|
|
Return-Path: <cwynne@liberty.uc.wlu.edu>
|
|
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|
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|
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|
|
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|
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Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII
|
|
From: "Colin J. Wynne" <cwynne@liberty.uc.wlu.edu>
|
|
To: asc <jfy@cis.ksu.edu>
|
|
Subject: GhostsFromThePast.4
|
|
Date: Tue, 12 Jan 1993 16:52:24 +0500 (EST)
|
|
|
|
This story is property of:
|
|
Colin J. Wynne
|
|
P.O. Box 4661
|
|
Lexington, VA 24450
|
|
(703) 464-4030
|
|
cwynne@liberty.uc.wlu.edu
|
|
|
|
Permission is given to distribute this story freely as long as this header
|
|
is included with all files/hardcopies/electronic postings.
|
|
|
|
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
"Ghosts from the Past," Ch. 10 through Ch. 12:
|
|
----------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
CHAPTER X
|
|
|
|
|
|
The Kzinti had at one time been considered a problem. Dozens
|
|
of years ago, when the United Federation of Planets was young and
|
|
weak, and just beginning to expand, they encountered the race of
|
|
giant felinids. The resulting brief war was a victory for the
|
|
Federation, which then proceeded to expand around and past the
|
|
Kzinti Hegemony.
|
|
Since the Federation was now much larger, they no longer
|
|
considered the Kzinti a threat, because they were always too busy
|
|
dealing with factional infighting.
|
|
Outpost 63 was, therefore, one of the most boring assignments
|
|
in the Federation. Outpost 63 was one of the dozen stations
|
|
around Kzinti territory, put there to make sure the Kzinti never
|
|
came out. In the last few years, they had acquired a more
|
|
important mission, that of keeping the Ferengi from entering and
|
|
trading military equipment to the Kzinti.
|
|
The station occassionally supervised inspections, to make
|
|
sure that the Kzinti remained relatively disarmed.
|
|
There wasn't a day when Cmdr. T'prill, the base commander,
|
|
didn't have these thoughts somewhere in the back of her Vulcan
|
|
mind. There also wasn't a day when she estimated the chance of
|
|
something serious happening to be more than 1.64%. Unfortunately,
|
|
this was the day for the improbable.
|
|
"Commander, the sensors are picking something up."
|
|
T'prill's left eyebrow arched. "Indeed? Can you elaborate,
|
|
Lieutenant?"
|
|
"Ships, three of them. Looking for a match."
|
|
"Yellow Alert. Charge shields and weapons. Do the ships
|
|
exhibit any Kzinti design techniques?"
|
|
"No, sir. Nor Ferengi, as far as I can tell. Wait - I have
|
|
a match now. Similar to a type reported recently near the Klingon
|
|
border."
|
|
"Similar?"
|
|
"Same basic shape and energy patterns, but bigger."
|
|
"When were they last reported?"
|
|
"About two weeks ago."
|
|
"Communications, hail those ships, then send a message to
|
|
Starfleet."
|
|
"They're attacking!" The base's shields came on
|
|
automatically as a concentrated salvo lashed the base.
|
|
"Severe strain on number three shield, Commander."
|
|
"Reinforce number three. Phasers, return fire on best
|
|
target."
|
|
"They're launching missiles. One-hundred fifty inbound!"
|
|
T'prill realised just at that moment that Academy simulations
|
|
never really taught about tactical defense. She would suggest
|
|
that to the Commandant - if she had the chance. "Fire phasers
|
|
rapid-pulse on the missiles. Full power photons on the nearest
|
|
target, narrow salvo."
|
|
"Aye, aye."
|
|
"We've been hit again! Number three down; fires in the
|
|
hangar bay. Casualty reports coming in."
|
|
"Rotate the station. Bring a new shield to bear."
|
|
"One-hundred twenty missiles left, closing fast."
|
|
"Activate countermeasures. Fire photons." The eight orange
|
|
balls of fire disappeared into the target's invisible shielding.
|
|
"Forty missiles still active, impact in sixteen seconds."
|
|
"All systems to passive, and launch a decoy."
|
|
All detectable emissions were switched off, so that the
|
|
missiles would lose their lock-on. A decoy, a small electronic
|
|
generator which simulated the base to the small electronic minds
|
|
of the missiles, was launched away from the base, to attract the
|
|
warheads.
|
|
"Six still tracking. Impact!"
|
|
The explosions went off in rapid succession. "Shields four
|
|
and five down! Heavy damage in outer hull area."
|
|
"They're circling around again, Commander. We're wide open
|
|
to them." Despair was evident in the Science Officer's voice.
|
|
"I see. Prepare to eject the log buoy and order abandon ship
|
|
on my command."
|
|
The communications officer swallowed hard. "Aye, sir."
|
|
"Prepare to fire again."
|
|
"Unable to, Commander. Fire control systems are down."
|
|
"Sir! More missiles on screen. At least - two hundred!"
|
|
"How many can we jam effectively?"
|
|
"They're not targeted on us. They are going after the
|
|
hostiles!"
|
|
"Fascinating... Can you identify the missiles?"
|
|
"Trying now, sir. Yes - they're Kzinti combat drones."
|
|
"I thought as much."
|
|
The waves of drones overran one of the attackers, completely
|
|
obliterating it. The other two, damaged, turned to face their new
|
|
opponents. They found themselves face-to-face with a dozen Kzinti
|
|
battlecruisers, their own battle scars jagged on their dull red
|
|
hulls. Disruptor bolts lashed out on one of the remaining alien
|
|
ships, scattering its atoms to the stellar winds. The last ship
|
|
began to turn tail and run, but was swallowed by another swarm of
|
|
drones.
|
|
The Science Officer stared at the screen dully. "Where did
|
|
the Kzinti get all of those ships?"
|
|
"Kzinti admiral hailing, Commander T'prill."
|
|
"On screen."
|
|
The station's main viewscreen crackled a bit, then coalesced
|
|
into the form of a seven foot tall, two hundred-plus kilogram cat
|
|
with little pink parasol-like ears. Huge carnivorous teeth jutted
|
|
from his mouth when he spoke. "Federation base, this is Admiral
|
|
k'Rzaal of the Patriarch's Grand Fleet."
|
|
"Admiral, this is Commander T'prill, of Starfleet. We are
|
|
very grateful for your assistance. If there-"
|
|
"Spare it, commander; it was not a favor. These ships are
|
|
all over the Patriarch's territory. I have come here, as a
|
|
representative of the Patriarch to ask the Federation for
|
|
permission to leave the boundaries of the Hegemony in dealing with
|
|
this threat."
|
|
"Admiral, I have no jurisdiction in-"
|
|
"Commander, I have a sizable battle force here. If, for some
|
|
reason, there were no outpost on the border, we may not be able to
|
|
remember where it was anyway."
|
|
"It would be logical to preserve this station if your threats
|
|
are to be taken seriously." The Kzinti bared his teeth in a
|
|
ferocious smile. "I see that they are. I will contact my
|
|
superiors."
|
|
"Your cooperation is appreciated, Commander."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Starfleet Command was in a panic. After twelve days of
|
|
apparent calm, all hell had broken loose all over the place. The
|
|
President of the Federation was trying desperately to maintain an
|
|
air of calm about him.
|
|
"Mr. President, I have an intelligence report from the
|
|
Romulan border."
|
|
"Yes?"
|
|
"They seem to be under attack, too, at least near the
|
|
border."
|
|
Another runner came across the room.
|
|
"Mr. President, report from the Kzinti sector. They, too,
|
|
are under attack. They want us to allow them outside of their
|
|
territory."
|
|
"We need as many ships as possible. Agree to their request."
|
|
"Yes, sir."
|
|
"Mr. President!" The Klingon ambassador's hoarse bellow cut
|
|
through all the other noise in the room.
|
|
"Yes, Ambassador Krondai?"
|
|
"The Klingon Empire is being invaded. By order of my
|
|
government I am too inform you that we are completely mobilising
|
|
all of our forces."
|
|
"I see, Mr. Ambassador. What is the extent of this invasion,
|
|
and will your forces be crossing the neutral zone?"
|
|
"Numerous ships in the spinward section of our territory,
|
|
near our mutual border - and what if they do cross?" he asked with
|
|
traditional Klingon arrogance.
|
|
The President was nonplussed. "Then we would appreciate any
|
|
help you could lend us in dealing with similar problems of our
|
|
own."
|
|
Krondai was not expecting this answer. "Yes, I suppose that
|
|
when we have eradicated our own problems we could help you."
|
|
"Thank you, Krondai."
|
|
The President raised his voice over the confusion in the rest
|
|
of the room. "I want your attention everyone!" They quieted
|
|
down. "As of now, Stardate 42943.4, I declare all territory of
|
|
the United Federation of Planets to be on Full Invasion Alert.
|
|
Admiral Heirok?"
|
|
The Chief of Starfleet stepped forward. "Yes, Mr.
|
|
President?"
|
|
"I want you to upgrade all active ships to war status,
|
|
constant Yellow Alert."
|
|
"Yes, Mr. President. We're already in the process of
|
|
mobilising the rest of the Planetary Defense Fleet."
|
|
"That won't be enough. Make sure all local system defense
|
|
fleets are on alert status as well."
|
|
"Aye, aye."
|
|
"And pray, Admiral. Pray."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Mr. President, this is the forty-third sighting in the last
|
|
three hours. The PD-Fleet is spread much too thin, and the
|
|
situation is only getting worse."
|
|
"How are the local fleets doing?"
|
|
"Not very well against these new heavy units, but they've
|
|
held their own against the smaller ships so far."
|
|
"I see. How is the build up going?"
|
|
"We're getting mothball ships on-line as quickly as we can
|
|
get crews for them. That's not that much right now - cancellation
|
|
of leave, transferring base and ground personnel to ships, and
|
|
some reservists. Within a day, we should be getting a steady flow
|
|
of reservists."
|
|
"This is terrible!" The President glanced at his watch.
|
|
"We've been on alert for nine hours already. How many invaders in
|
|
our territory, Admiral?"
|
|
Heirok looked toward a small hand-held computer he was
|
|
carrying. "Two-hundred sixteen light units, and one-hundred and
|
|
two of the big ships." The screen flashed, and the Andorian
|
|
scowled. "One-hundred and five."
|
|
"I see."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Dr. Crusher?"
|
|
Beverly turned towards the call. It was Starbase 42's Chief
|
|
Medical Officer, Dr. Grul, a pig-nosed Tellarite. "Yes, Grul, can
|
|
I help you?"
|
|
"What do you think of our preparations?"
|
|
Beverly had never before had to operate under war conditions,
|
|
but was, of course, trained in them at Starfleet Medical School.
|
|
"Very commendable, Doctor. Since these are the largest facilities
|
|
in the sector, you'll probably be handling a lot of casualties
|
|
here."
|
|
"Yes, I thought so, too. Will you be staying here?"
|
|
Here, thought Crusher, on the nice safe Starbase, while Wes
|
|
was still on board the ship - the ship where he was already
|
|
wounded. He was fully recovered now, and back on duty on the
|
|
battlecruiser, out in the middle of all of this! "Yes, I'm
|
|
staying aboard," she answered, somewhat meekly.
|
|
Grul issued a short grunt. "Must be bad for all of this."
|
|
His gesture took in all of the bustle of preparation going on all
|
|
around them. "Eh?"
|
|
"Must be," she agreed, shivering slightly.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Almost as soon as the Council declared the alert, Enterprise-
|
|
C was ordered back to active status. Her crew had not yet been
|
|
entirely dispersed from the Starbase, and she was the first ship
|
|
recommissioned for defense duty.
|
|
Also, even though she was a research vessel, Picard's ship
|
|
was sent out to intercept the invader ships as well.
|
|
Picard had noticed Riker's eagerness to return to his
|
|
command; his zeal easily overpowered whatever ill fellings he had
|
|
on the situation.
|
|
Picard had no such distractions. As a completely peace-
|
|
oriented officer of Starfleet, whose primary interest lay in
|
|
research and knowledge, Picard was having great difficulty in
|
|
accepting what was basically a war mission. There were ships in
|
|
Starfleet that existed only for such situations as the one now.
|
|
But Starfleet had decided that they needed as many ships in
|
|
service as soon as possible. And as soon as possible meant that
|
|
there was no time to evacuate the civilians from the Enterprise.
|
|
Picard had a problem with that.
|
|
He suggested that they just leave the saucer section at the
|
|
Starbase, but Starfleet Command told him that that action would
|
|
degrade the ship's combat performance too much.
|
|
So now Picard had a ship with hundreds of despondent - he
|
|
paused on his next word - noncombatants aboard. They were
|
|
despondent because the Federation hadn't been on an Alert since
|
|
the Fed-Klingon War, almost a hundred years ago. And there was
|
|
nothing that they could do about it! Picard had had words with
|
|
Starfleet Command previously regarding the subject of shipboard
|
|
civilians. He couldn't deny the positive effect that the presence
|
|
of family had on the crew of an extended voyage, especially after
|
|
his twenty year mission on the Stargazer, but, more often than
|
|
not, they simply were in the way or in unnecessary danger.
|
|
If the ship got into a bad situation fighting the invaders,
|
|
Picard could not even rely on separating the saucer then, because
|
|
the attackers always operated in threes. The saucer, going on
|
|
sublight power, would be helpless against even one of the light
|
|
units.
|
|
As these thoughts permeated the Captain's mind, he stared out
|
|
the viewport of his ready room, hoping to find an answer in the
|
|
stars. There had to be a peaceful resolution to this conflict.
|
|
After all, these were intelligent beings. There must be some way
|
|
to reason with them. Every fibre of Picard's being cried out for
|
|
a sane alternative to this awful violence.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
CHAPTER XI
|
|
|
|
|
|
For several days, the two Enterprises had been extremely busy
|
|
trying to keep up with the increasing rate of the invaders'
|
|
attacks. Fortunately, neither vessel had been damaged badly, nor
|
|
their crews suffered any serious injuries. The attackers' tactics
|
|
were becoming somewhat predictable, and this made Riker's job of
|
|
intercepting them that much easier and somewhat less dangerous.
|
|
Data and his team of computer techs had moved to the backup
|
|
memory banks, and were trying to access the battlecruiser's hidden
|
|
knowledge by that route. It was the android's hypothesis that the
|
|
information might be more easily accessed by this indirect method,
|
|
since the main computers, it seemed upon detailed inspection, had
|
|
born the brunt of whatever it was that damaged the system in the
|
|
first place.
|
|
The log entries from the starship's journey through the rips
|
|
had been mostly reassembled, but there were still some key pieces
|
|
missing, and, although they could determine the content of most of
|
|
the memory bits, they were still having trouble accessing the
|
|
data.
|
|
So, despite the fact that they now had sorted out most of the
|
|
log entries and restored them in order, they couldn't actually
|
|
watch them, yet.
|
|
Riker had taken advatage of a quiet moment on the bridge to
|
|
visit the engineering section. He had a lot on his mind and
|
|
needed some time away from the bridge. Argyle, too, was using the
|
|
lull to kick his feet up and rest for a while.
|
|
Will walked into the engineer's office. "How are things,
|
|
Argyle?"
|
|
The engineer could tell that his captain was somewhat
|
|
distracted by more important considerations than how Argyle was
|
|
feeling. "Not bad, right now, Commander."
|
|
"I know what you mean." He paused, and then continued more
|
|
emphatically. "I just wish we could do something more than- than
|
|
chase these damned invaders all around space!"
|
|
"We do what we can, Commander. Right now, we don't have a
|
|
way to take the fight to them."
|
|
"Well, we need one. If we don't go on the offensive soon,
|
|
we'll be overwhelmed by sheer numbers. Those ships are piling up
|
|
faster than Starfleet can come up with ships to deal with them."
|
|
Argyle looked momentarily pensive, then offered, "Well, they
|
|
know how to control those rips, to a degree."
|
|
"Yes, yes. That they do."
|
|
"If we could find out how..."
|
|
"You mind telling me how you plan on doing that?
|
|
Argyle shifted the subject. "You know, I'm having trouble
|
|
seeing exactly how much of a problem all these ships are. After
|
|
all, they're so spread out, and-"
|
|
"Argyle, Starfleet is at least as spread out in dealing with
|
|
them, and we have less ships. Just imagine a trio of those enemy
|
|
battleships sailing into an undefended, populated system."
|
|
"Oh."
|
|
The klaxon wailed and the ship turned a deep crimson. "Red
|
|
Alert, Red Alert. Commander Riker to the bridge."
|
|
"I've got to go," said Will, and was out the door.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Riker practically leaped out of the turbolift. "Status!" he
|
|
ordered. Worf answered him.
|
|
"Starbase 42 is under attack by nine enemy ships, six scouts,
|
|
three battleships."
|
|
The battlecruiser and Enterprise-D had been scanning reported
|
|
rip zones in between bouts of combat, such as now.
|
|
"Are we the nearest ships?"
|
|
"Yes, sir."
|
|
"How far at max speed?"
|
|
"Thirty-four minutes, sir," answered the Helmsman.
|
|
"Get me Captain Picard."
|
|
"On screen."
|
|
"Yes, Commander?"
|
|
"The Starbase is under attack. We are the closest help they
|
|
can get."
|
|
"I see, Commander. Transmit an intercept course and we'll
|
|
follow."
|
|
"Yes, sir." He turned towards the helm. Worf was there.
|
|
Wesley was at navigation, and Data was at the Science station.
|
|
They were the most necessary of the bridge crew right now.
|
|
"You heard him, Worf. Let's go."
|
|
"Aye, aye, sir."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Message from Starbase, Commander. Six attackers remaining.
|
|
ETA is two minutes."
|
|
"Riker to Picard."
|
|
"Yes, Commander. What is it?"
|
|
"When we are in range, we will identify and prioritise the
|
|
targets. First heavy units, then scouts. Is this acceptable?"
|
|
"Perfectly, Number One."
|
|
"Okay. Here we go."
|
|
The two ships slowed as they approached the base, dropping
|
|
down through the speed of light rapidly. In front of them, the
|
|
base was swapping shots with six of the invaders' ships, two
|
|
battleships and four scouts. A full salvo from the base tracked
|
|
one of the lighter vessels then made contact, obliterating it.
|
|
One of the battleships was moving away from the base,
|
|
directly towards the Enterprises, preparing for another attack.
|
|
"There's your first target, Mr. Worf. Data, offer them
|
|
surrender first."
|
|
"Aye, aye, sir. They're scanning us right now." Data sent
|
|
his message. "No response, sir. And their weapons are charging."
|
|
"Make sure the Enterprise is with us. Prepare to fire, on my
|
|
mark."
|
|
Riker had received the intelligence reports on these heavy
|
|
units, these battleships, but neither Enterprise had had to fight
|
|
one yet. The proverbial moment of truth was upon them.
|
|
"Still no response?"
|
|
"No, sir. I think they're trying to jam communications.
|
|
Very ineffective, however."
|
|
"Open fire."
|
|
Red fire lashed out from both starships, slamming into the
|
|
battleship. The target jolted hard from the strain, but the
|
|
invisible shields held. Then she spat an answer.
|
|
For a split second, Riker felt as though a giant hand were
|
|
squeezing his chest. The straps on the chair held him, however,
|
|
from catapulting through the viewscreen. "Damage Report!"
|
|
Worf wheezed slightly, while Riker realised he had to gasp
|
|
for breath. "Shields at minimal power. Electrical Fires on decks
|
|
twelve through eighteen."
|
|
"Full torpedo spread, max power. Fire the megaphasers!"
|
|
The orbs of energy completely surrounded the invader before
|
|
detonating, washing it in a white burst of energy. The phaser
|
|
cannon bored through the globe of light, the shields, the ship,
|
|
and kept going. The attacking vessel was no more than an
|
|
expanding cloud of vapor.
|
|
"Worf, how are the aft shields?"
|
|
"Approximately half power, Commander."
|
|
"Riker to Picard."
|
|
"Picard here."
|
|
"Our forward shields are almost down. Suggest you and the
|
|
base concentrate on the other battleship."
|
|
"Understood, Commander. Good luck. Picard out."
|
|
"Worf, full stop. Turn us around and back into one of those
|
|
scout ships."
|
|
Worf's voice belied the fact that he was genuinely impressed
|
|
by Riker's choice of action. "Aye, aye, sir."
|
|
"Prepare all aft weapons."
|
|
The battlecruiser, aft end first, charged down on one of the
|
|
scout ships busily engaging a squadron of the base's fighter-
|
|
shuttles. It started to respond to the new threat, but it was too
|
|
late.
|
|
"Fire!" The megaphasers split the void once more, turning
|
|
their target into a twisted mass of skeletal deckwork and cables.
|
|
At that moment, the starbase's spin was carrying fresh
|
|
weapons into range of the invader battleship. Simultaneously,
|
|
both phaser rings on Enterprise-D and a battery of phasers from
|
|
the base took the attacker, fore and aft. The shields gave, and
|
|
the vessel took heavy hits at the bow and stern.
|
|
As expected, the ship self-destructed, the energy release
|
|
carrying the battlecruiser's shields dangerously near collapse.
|
|
"Cmdr. Riker, the remaining three vessels are turning away
|
|
from the base and accelerating."
|
|
"Pursuit, now!"
|
|
"Aye, aye, sir."
|
|
As Riker's ship closed on the fleeing vessels, Data noticed
|
|
something. "New energy reading, Commander, from all three ships."
|
|
Just then, the three ships each produced a beam of pale blue
|
|
light. Where the beams all met, a shape, blacker than the space
|
|
behind, began to spread.
|
|
"They're starting a rip! Data, scan that."
|
|
"Scanning and recording. Sir, the computer is attempting to
|
|
identify the pattern."
|
|
The rip was bigger now, and was starting to pull the ship
|
|
towards it. The invaders were already moving through. "Full
|
|
stop, hold position."
|
|
Almost immediately, the hole began to close. Data continued.
|
|
"There is no direct match, but there are several similarities in
|
|
the pattern to the readings associated with transwarp travel."
|
|
"Is that so? Very interesting. Get me the Captain."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Secured from general quarters, the ships remained at
|
|
Starbase. Riker's crew was repairing damage to the ship, and the
|
|
few casualties were being treated. Argyle was pondering the bit
|
|
of information that Data had uncovered, while reviewing the sensor
|
|
recordings again and again to see what he could make of it all.
|
|
Argyle could only keep telling himself how thickheaded he
|
|
must be not to see some sort of connection.
|
|
Data was back down with his computers, Wesley was sleeping in
|
|
his cabin, Worf was on the bridge, and Riker was pacing in the
|
|
rec-room. The ship now had a complete crew and was fully
|
|
operational, so the rec-room had been opened up. There were not,
|
|
however, many people there, since most of them were taking their
|
|
free time on the starbase.
|
|
Will went back to his table and sat down. The data he had
|
|
been studying was still on the computer screen there, intelligence
|
|
reports on the invaders' ships.
|
|
There was a full set of external views, extremely detailed,
|
|
showing clearly a flattened cigar shape with a rectangular box
|
|
covering most of the aft section. Gun turrets, missile launchers,
|
|
sensor apparatus, all labelled for easy identification. Something
|
|
that looked like a huge intake of some sort.
|
|
Those heavy vessels, the battleships, were truly awesome,
|
|
extremely huge ships, much bigger than an Alaska class.
|
|
Fortunately, only a very few of them had been seen so far.
|
|
All the technology was very different from anything ever seen
|
|
before, some not even identifiable. And Riker had to learn how to
|
|
deal with it all, because the whole Federation was in the hands of
|
|
Riker and other captains just like him. It was an imposing
|
|
thought.
|
|
Data's voice broke his reverie. "Commander Riker, please
|
|
report to the auxillary computer room."
|
|
Riker stood up, switched off the screen, and headed for the
|
|
nearest turbolift.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Data stood patiently, hands clasped behind his back, waiting
|
|
for Riker. As Will walked through the door, Data said,
|
|
"Commander, I have some very good news."
|
|
Riker's face broke into an expectant smile. "You've got it?"
|
|
"We can now access all of this ship's log entries and flight
|
|
recordings."
|
|
"Wonderful! Can you patch it through to the main viewer on
|
|
the bridge?"
|
|
"Indeed, sir."
|
|
"Let's go then.
|
|
The two moved briskly toward the lift and were on the bridge
|
|
just moments later. "Worf, call Wesley and Argyle up here.
|
|
"Riker to Picard."
|
|
There was a brief pause, then Geordi's face appeared on the
|
|
viewscreen. "He's off the bridge right now, sir. Shall I get
|
|
him?"
|
|
"Yes. Tell him we've accessed all the logs on the
|
|
battlecruiser."
|
|
"That's great! All right, hold on a minute."
|
|
The screen blanked. Wesley and Argyle emerged from the lift
|
|
together and stood behind the bridge railing. Moments later,
|
|
Captain Picard was hailing.
|
|
"Captain, did Geordi tell you?"
|
|
"Yes, Number One. Good work, all of you. Can you patch us
|
|
in to watch?"
|
|
"Data?"
|
|
"Already set up, sir."
|
|
"Perfect. Here we go, everybody."
|
|
Riker sat back in the command chair. Picard's image was
|
|
replaced by static, then the picture cleared up. It showed the
|
|
bridge of Enterprise-C, bathed in combat lighting and filled with
|
|
smoke. The officers, dressed in old style Starfleet uniforms,
|
|
were dazed, but the Captain was speaking, his voice hoarse from
|
|
the fumes wafting through his bridge.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
CHAPTER XII
|
|
|
|
|
|
Romanov was out of breath; his eyes stung from the smoke of a
|
|
dozen small electrical fires, and his throat was raw. He reached
|
|
for the log recorder controls at his right armrest. Flipping the
|
|
toggle, he looked towards the small video recorder just above the
|
|
main viewscreen.
|
|
"Captain's Log, Stardate 15246.4:" Romanov coughed,
|
|
unsuccessfully trying to clear his rasping voice. "My ship -
|
|
pulled through a rip in - fabric of space itself. Computers
|
|
unable to match to-" Valeriy's lungs heaved in a fit of choking
|
|
and coughing. Several more bridge officers were trying to rouse
|
|
themselves, blinking their eyes repeatedly to bring themselves
|
|
back to reality. The captain continued. "To match any known star
|
|
patterns. I must tend to damage and casualties now, but I think -
|
|
ship still operational."
|
|
The Science Officer, Lieutenant Karapos, apparently more
|
|
coherent than the rest, had started to bring the ship's systems
|
|
back to life. "Captain." Her voice gave away the pain she must
|
|
have been controlling. "Damage is mostly superficial, circuit
|
|
damage. Repair parties are on the way to the bridge and other
|
|
essential areas."
|
|
Romanov was feeling noticeably better by now. "Good, good.
|
|
Casualties?"
|
|
"Report from sickbay now. A lot of minor injuries, only
|
|
about a dozen seriously injured, and two fatalities in
|
|
engineering."
|
|
"Damn. Alright, let's get this bucket back in shape and find
|
|
out where the hell we are."
|
|
"Captain! Sensors picking up three vessels, type unknown,
|
|
closing at high sublight velocity."
|
|
"Range?"
|
|
"One-hundred thousand kilometres. They just appeared there,
|
|
sir."
|
|
"Red Alert, try to hail."
|
|
"Too late!"
|
|
Romanov couldn't manage any words as the little flattened
|
|
cigar shapes spat electric death at his all but crippled starship.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Captain's Log, Supplemental: We have had a very tense
|
|
moment. Three unknown vessels fired on my ship. However, after
|
|
we attempted to contact them, they broke off and began orbiting
|
|
the ship. No extra damage was sustained. After several hours of
|
|
communication with these beings, the universal translators are
|
|
functioning very well.
|
|
"I am attaching this log just prior to communicating with a
|
|
representative of this previously unknown race of aliens, who call
|
|
themselves the Jhonkai, as closely as I can pronounce it.
|
|
"Transmission to follow."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Captain Romanov, I presume? I am honoured to meet you. I
|
|
am Marshal Lerhok of the Third Scouting Fleet. I apologise for
|
|
the reception you were given. My field commanders acted
|
|
irrationally, to be sure."
|
|
"No harm done, Marshal. I am glad that a worse situation was
|
|
avoided. Perhaps you may be able to assist us. We are
|
|
somewhat...lost."
|
|
"Ah, yes, Captain. We noticed your vessel as soon as at
|
|
appeared through one of the voids."
|
|
"The voids. Then you have seen these before?"
|
|
"Unfortunately so, Captain. I must now appeal to you for
|
|
help. But you must first know why.
|
|
"The voids have existed for as long as anyone can remember,
|
|
several generations back. At first they were a mere astronomical
|
|
curiosity. But they became worse. At first, some of our
|
|
scientific vessels disappeared through them. They were never
|
|
heard from again." Lerhok paused.
|
|
Valeriy looked at the tripartite alien on the screen. "I,
|
|
uh, assume there's more."
|
|
"You needn't have all the details, Captain. Our space, as
|
|
far as we can explore, is being torn apart by the voids. And the
|
|
worst of the effects are moving towards our civilisation.
|
|
Already, a few of our farthest planets have been ripped apart,
|
|
completely and without warning. And two stars have been forced
|
|
into a nova stage prematurely. They were, fortunately, unoccupied
|
|
systems."
|
|
"I am glad for that, Marshal Lerhok."
|
|
"Captain, our time is running out. Our most optimistic
|
|
forecasts show that our entire civilisation will be obliterated
|
|
within-" Lerhok calculated the conversion, "-one hundred years."
|
|
"Oh my God... And you've already been exploring for-"
|
|
"The oldest ships in our fleet are three hundred and fifty
|
|
years old. My people have put every available resource into
|
|
building ships to find us a new home, but without success. As far
|
|
as we can explore in every direction, the voids are there."
|
|
Romanov thought of something that the alien had said earlier.
|
|
"How is it that you expect us to be able to help you?"
|
|
The Marshal seemed genuinely surprised by this query.
|
|
"Captain, you came through the void. That means it is possible to
|
|
survive travel through the voids, and we now have an almost
|
|
limitless expanse of new territory to explore. I might also add,
|
|
that you have alluded to the fact that you have never seen these
|
|
voids before?"
|
|
"I understand now. You now possess the knowledge that there
|
|
are other places in the universe where you can be safe."
|
|
"Or other dimensions. We do not know enough about the
|
|
phenomena to be certain."
|
|
Romanov spread his arms in front of him, a gesture of
|
|
futility. "But Marshal, we do not know how to move through the
|
|
voids, even if we can get back. Our presence here is an
|
|
accident."
|
|
Lerhok made a gesture to kill the audio pick-up, and
|
|
conversed silently with several of his officers. After almost a
|
|
minute, he returned his attention to Romanov.
|
|
"Captain, I have been authorised to extend an invitation for
|
|
you, your ship and your crew to accompany us to one of the Jhonkai
|
|
Concordium's planets. Will you accept?"
|
|
"I would be most honoured, Marshal."
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Captain's Log, Stardate 15246.7: My ship is currently in
|
|
orbit around one of the Jhonkai's planets. Our long range scans
|
|
indicate that the inhabited, or, at least industrialised, planets
|
|
make up a group of fifteen core star systems all within thirty
|
|
light years of one another, and several dozen other colony
|
|
systems. This region of space has an extremely high stellar
|
|
density, average distance being 1.2 light years.
|
|
"I have been invited to partake in a dialogue with the
|
|
Jhonkai Sector Governor on the moon of this planet. He says he is
|
|
interested in hearing about the place from which we have come.
|
|
"Following my first officer's advice that we allow these
|
|
still mostly unknown creatures limited knowledge of our
|
|
technology, I shall take a shuttlecraft to the meeting, instead of
|
|
the transporter."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The Enterprise's executive officer, Cmdr. Geoffrey
|
|
Bainbridge, twisted uneasily in the command chair that Romanov had
|
|
left him with. The captain had taken a small transmitter along,
|
|
and the Comm officer was broadcasting the meeting over the bridge
|
|
speakers. Some inner voice had told Geoff to put the ship on
|
|
Yellow Alert, and he hadn't even for a minute thought of
|
|
dismissing that advice.
|
|
"They're getting really nosey down there," commented the Exec
|
|
to Karapos, who he had ordered to keep a constant scan on Romanov.
|
|
The Jhonkai representatives were pressing for details about
|
|
the Federation - size, population, military, industry, etc. The
|
|
captain was doing his best to answer in generalities.
|
|
Bainbridge stood up to pace. On his third circuit around the
|
|
bridge, Lt. Karapos did a double-take at his screens.
|
|
"Sir!"
|
|
"What is it?" queried Geoff as he moved towards the science
|
|
console.
|
|
"Large numbers of Jhonkai ships appearing."
|
|
"Range and bearing?"
|
|
"Range, about a million kilometres. Bearing - all."
|
|
"What do you-"
|
|
"They're completely surrounding us!"
|
|
"Red Alert, now! Charge weapons and shields."
|
|
The klaxon filled the air while the computer droned out its
|
|
general quarters alert.
|
|
"Are they maintaining position?"
|
|
"Yes. No, wait. They're moving now. Accelerating towards
|
|
us and closing formation."
|
|
Just then, the viewscreen lit up. "Enterprise!"
|
|
The Captain was surrounded by several heavily armed Jhonkai
|
|
warriors, all their weapons aimed straight at Romanov's
|
|
midsection.
|
|
"Your captain chooses not to oblige us, Commander, so it is
|
|
now up to you. Your vessel is to lead our fleet through the void
|
|
back to your Federation. Refuse and Romanov dies. Refuse us
|
|
again and you all die! Make your decision, but do it now."
|
|
Fury welled up inside of the First Officer, and he screamed
|
|
at the viewscreen. "Well your just goddamned out of luck, you
|
|
barbarians!
|
|
"Transporter, emergency recall, now! Close communications
|
|
and prepare for battle."
|
|
"Captain safely recovered, sir. Shields at full."
|
|
"Report, Mr. Karapos."
|
|
"They're moving in faster. Seven hundred thousand klicks,
|
|
and closing."
|
|
Romanov's form burst onto the bridge. "Thank you for your
|
|
timely assistance, Commander. Now let's get the hell out of
|
|
here."
|
|
"What was that all about?" asked Bainbridge, his anger
|
|
somewhat settled.
|
|
"Seems they'd like to conquer the Federation, Geoff. All
|
|
those exploration vessels they said they were building, well
|
|
they're armed to the teeth, each and every one. Guess they were
|
|
just waiting for an opportunity like this one."
|
|
"Oh, god..."
|
|
"Yeah. And they know that rip-travel is possible now, so the
|
|
best we can do is warn the Federation, make sure they're prepared
|
|
when it all comes down." The captain gestured at the wall of
|
|
ships on the viewscreen. "That's what they want to stop us from
|
|
doing."
|
|
Valeriy punched an intercom button. "Engineering, bring the
|
|
mains up to full power. We'll be needing them."
|
|
"Captain," responded the Engineer, a Vulcan named Sympak. "I
|
|
would have to advise against using the Transwarp engines, sir.
|
|
If this transition through the rip has already put us into a
|
|
dimension not our own, then Transwarp travel could be unduly
|
|
dangerous."
|
|
"Look, Chief, we don't have many alternatives. I may have to
|
|
use them anyway."
|
|
"Understood, sir."
|
|
"Mr. Karapos, find us the weakest spot in that globe and give
|
|
us a course towards it."
|
|
"In the computer now, sir."
|
|
"Outstanding. Full impulse, Helm."
|
|
The ship leapt like a tiger, freed from its cage, straight at
|
|
part of the Jhonkai armada.
|
|
"We're being targeted, sir. Oh my god, they're firing!"
|
|
"Geoff, fire at will."
|
|
Phaser fire pierced the dark space, ripping through the
|
|
hostile ships with ease. Three fell to Enterprise's first full
|
|
salvo.
|
|
"Keep it up, XO."
|
|
"Captain, they're moving all around us."
|
|
The ship lurched under return fire. "Damn. They're
|
|
following us. We can't outrun them at sublight."
|
|
"I doubt it, sir. And we can't take much more of this,
|
|
either."
|
|
"We're out of choices. Engage Transwarp engines, full
|
|
speed. Cross your fingers everyone.
|
|
"Engage!
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Captain's Log, Stardate 15247.3: Fortunately for all of us,
|
|
Chief Sympak's concerns were unfounded, and the ship is safe. We
|
|
are still however, lost in whatever part of the universe fostered
|
|
this race of beings called the Jhonkai.
|
|
"The successful operation of the main engines has given us
|
|
some hope, however. Lt. Cmdr. Sympak has hypothesised that, due
|
|
to the nature of Transwarp travel, the main engines might be
|
|
recalibrated to allow us to return to Federation space.
|
|
"I have authorised him to go ahead with this work while the
|
|
rest of the crew stands down to Yellow Alert. The Jhonkai might
|
|
return any time, now."
|
|
Romanov switched off the log recorder.
|
|
Geoff was suddenly standing behind him. "Well said,
|
|
Captain."
|
|
"What do you mean?"
|
|
"Sensors just picked up a Jhonkai scout at long range. He
|
|
hasn't seen us yet, I don't think, but he's headed this way. And
|
|
with the mains down for these alterations..."
|
|
"I see. What are our chances to avoid detection?"
|
|
"Slim to none. He's headed almost straight for us."
|
|
"Engineering, how much longer do you need?"
|
|
"I estimate thirty-four minutes, sir."
|
|
"Geoff, as soon as that scout is in megaphaser range, take it
|
|
out."
|
|
"Isn't that being a little hasty, sir? Starfleet regulations
|
|
say that no Federation vessels may initiate-"
|
|
"Damnit, Commander!" Bainbridge flinched noticeably. The
|
|
Captain relaxed his tone, but not entirely. "Look, if we get
|
|
destroyed, it won't matter whether we followed regs or not. And
|
|
if that scout gets off a contact report, we've had it."
|
|
"But-"
|
|
"No buts! Mr. Karapos, analyse the Jhonkai ships' propulsion
|
|
systems."
|
|
"Yes, sir. A form of conventional warp drive, and plasma-
|
|
fusion sublight engines."
|
|
"What speeds?"
|
|
The lieutenant peered at one of her monitors. "When those
|
|
ships started to appear all around us, I took some readings. They
|
|
had to be moving at at least Warp 15."
|
|
A whistle of incredulity escaped the exec's lips. "Point
|
|
taken, Captain. I withdraw my protest."
|
|
"Thank you, Geoff. Believe me, I don't take this decision
|
|
lightly. But Starfleet made me a captain because they trust my
|
|
decisions, even ones like this. I hope we're around long enough
|
|
for you to heed that advice. Range?"
|
|
"Three-hundred thousand kilometres. Shot in twenty seconds."
|
|
"They're moving slowly," mused the Captain. "We've never
|
|
actually seen them manoeuvring in warp, have we?"
|
|
"No, sir," answered the Science Officer. "They may only be
|
|
able to warp at such high speeds in a straight line."
|
|
"Interesting."
|
|
Geoff gestured at one of the screens and raised his voice.
|
|
"They're changing course."
|
|
The Comm officer added, "That ship is sending off a message,
|
|
Captain."
|
|
"Full impulse, intercept course. Prepare to fire."
|
|
The giant hunter shot across the velvet background towards
|
|
the little Jhonkai vessel. The prey tried to escape, but was
|
|
quickly overrun. Blue lightning speared from the saucer weapons
|
|
pods on the battlecruiser, igniting the fleeing scout. Seconds
|
|
later, the target obliterated in a shower of molten metal.
|
|
"Helm, get us as far away from here as you can. No telling
|
|
how soon their fleet will be here."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Captain, my work will be complete in twelve minutes.
|
|
Assuming, of course, I am not unduly delayed by your continual
|
|
requests for that piece of information."
|
|
"Of course, Chief. Bridge out."
|
|
Romanov was getting very edgy. There was nothing for him to
|
|
do so long as the engineers did their work, and the scanners were
|
|
monitored. He was getting to the point where his tension was
|
|
starting to rub the crew the wrong way - and that could be bad.
|
|
"Sir! Ships appearing, bearing two-five-two mark seven,
|
|
range, six-hundred thousand kilometres."
|
|
"That close?" Romanov was more than slightly surprised by
|
|
that. They didn't get that scout in time after all...
|
|
"Yes, sir, and closing rapidly."
|
|
"Helm, bows-on to the hostile ships, and full impulse astern."
|
|
"Yes, s-" He paused. "Did you say 'astern', sir."
|
|
"Yes, and I don't mean later mister. Full power astern!"
|
|
Romanov was thinking of his Academy combat classes. The
|
|
retrograde manoeuvre - a hypothetical tactic allowing a captain to
|
|
move his ship away from an enemy while keeping his strongest
|
|
weapons to bear.
|
|
"They're charging weapons."
|
|
"Fire at will, Geoff. Keep them away from us."
|
|
At least three dozen Jhonkai warships - for certainly Romanov
|
|
no longer regarded them as 'science vessels' - bore down on the
|
|
damaged starship. Their formation created a huge square wall on
|
|
the main viewscreen.
|
|
It was a strange picture, the backwards fleeing Federation
|
|
ship swapping shots with the huge squadron of Jhonkai vessels.
|
|
"Mr. Karapos, maximum power to countermeasures. Weapons,
|
|
take your shots carefully."
|
|
"Aye, aye, sir."
|
|
The Enterprise's technological superiority was paying off.
|
|
Despite being so badly outnumbered, she was taking no worse than
|
|
she was giving. The small armada was having a difficult time
|
|
hitting their target, and the starship's shields held while a
|
|
half-score of the armed research vessels winked out of existence
|
|
under the impact of phasers and torpedoes.
|
|
Then things changed for the worse. "Captain! Multiple
|
|
missile launch. All hostiles have launched - tracking over one
|
|
hundred inbound!"
|
|
"All systems to passive! Launch decoys, and reserve power to
|
|
jammers!" Romanov's finger stabbed the intercom. "Mr. Sympak,
|
|
hurry the hell up, and I mean it!"
|
|
"Sir, the calibrations will be finished momentarily,"
|
|
responded the Vulcan, unfazed by the Captain's irrational tones.
|
|
"Computer simulation will, however, require several more minutes."
|
|
"Damn your eyes, mister! I will be activating the mains in -"
|
|
The captain glanced at Karapos, who pointed at the missile tracks
|
|
and mouthed the time to impact. "- less than two minutes. You
|
|
had better be ready!"
|
|
The shields, already weakened by combat and the power drain
|
|
to the electronic defenses, took the full impact of a lucky salvo
|
|
from one of the attacking ships. On the bridge, Romanov felt a
|
|
strong thump through the decks, and all the displays momentarily
|
|
showed static. The damage control station suddenly lit up with
|
|
large swaths of red through the engineering section.
|
|
"Captain, we've been hulled near life support control."
|
|
"How bad."
|
|
"Unable to ascertain at the moment, sir. I'm checking."
|
|
"Time to impact?"
|
|
"Forty seconds."
|
|
"Captain Romanov, this is engineering. The Transwarp engines
|
|
are ready for activation."
|
|
"Helm, activate, now!"
|
|
Power drained from all over the ship, rerouted through the
|
|
massive Transwarp nacelles astride the ship's hull. The bridge
|
|
emergency batteries kicked over, enough to bring up the main
|
|
viewer and red lighting.
|
|
Energy sparked and danced in space immediately in front of
|
|
the ship. A glowing orb of black swallowed the minor pyrotechnic
|
|
display, and disturbances in the very fabric of space rippled out
|
|
like waves. The ship bucked and heeled, while several inbound
|
|
missiles detonated, triggering a chain reaction of explosions
|
|
through their ranks.
|
|
Then, like a startled animal, Romanov's ship leaped into the
|
|
void, and an unseen hand began to squeeze the consciousness out of
|
|
the captain's body.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
As the bridge crew sluggishly came to, and things returned to
|
|
some semblance of normalcy, the Engineer's voice was the first
|
|
heard.
|
|
"Captain, this is Engineering, Chief Sympak. The main
|
|
engines have lost all power, and the energisers appear to be
|
|
damaged beyond repair. I must look more closely."
|
|
"Understood, Chief. Excellent work. You are to be
|
|
commended."
|
|
"Mr. Karapos, where are we?"
|
|
"We are back in our own space. I can't be sure exactly
|
|
where, though. We are either in or near Klingon territory."
|
|
"That could be bad, in a crippled starship."
|
|
"Yes, sir," agreed the Exec. "There's worse news."
|
|
"Uh-oh."
|
|
"Life-support is very badly damaged. Toxic waste is being
|
|
pumped into the air supply, and we can't stop it."
|
|
"Can it be repaired?"
|
|
"Not in time. We have less than twenty minutes of good air
|
|
left."
|
|
"Then we don't have much choice. Comm, put me on shipwide."
|
|
"Circuit open."
|
|
"Attention all hands - this is the captain speaking. I want
|
|
to commend everyone on their excellent performance during this
|
|
crisis. We are now back in our own space, however, our ship is
|
|
crippled, and must be evacuated. You have ten minutes to collect
|
|
and stow one bag of personal effects. The lifeboats will be
|
|
launched in fifteen minutes. Good luck to you all."
|
|
Romanov sighed despair, and added, "All senior officers to
|
|
the bridge."
|
|
Valeriy gestured for the circuit to be cut. "Do we have
|
|
power for a transmission, to find out if there are any starbases
|
|
around?"
|
|
"Negative, sir."
|
|
"Very well, then. Put out a low power distress signal."
|
|
With that, Valeriy went to his center chair and activated the log
|
|
recorder.
|
|
"Captain's Log, Final Entry, Stardate 15247.7: I include
|
|
this entry to warn the Federation of the danger that the Jhonkai
|
|
present. I sincerely hope that the sum of the recordings made by
|
|
my vessel will be helpful in protecting the Federation, and all of
|
|
our friends and families throughout.
|
|
"With my ship crippled, and so near - perhaps in - Klingon
|
|
territory, I have no choice but to abandon and scuttle the
|
|
Enterprise. I give this order with a heavy heart, but at the same
|
|
time I recommend the following members of my crew for the
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Federation Citation of Gallantry, posthumously if need be...
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|
"Lt. Commander Sympak, Chief Engineer; Commander Geoffrey
|
|
Bainbridge, Executive Officer; Lieutenant Karapos, Science
|
|
Officer; Lieutenant Juergen Wasserman, Tactical Weapons Officer.
|
|
"Attached to this transmission is the programmed course for
|
|
all of the lifeboats, so that our survivors may be rescued."
|
|
"Prepare the log buoy for launch right after we set the self-
|
|
destruct."
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|
By now, all of the senior officers were present. The oxygen
|
|
was getting noticeably scarce, and the engine waste in the
|
|
atmosphere stung at their throats.
|
|
As the fifteen minutes ticked away, the group of officers
|
|
felt and heard the lifeboats dropped away from the ship.
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|
"Ladies and gentlemen, we will set the destruct sequence to
|
|
go when all lifeboats are clear, then we will go to our boats."
|
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"Aye, sir," they all responded.
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Romanov was beginning to feel extremely dizzy as he
|
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concluded, "Let's get this over with."
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From: "Colin J. Wynne" <cwynne@liberty.uc.wlu.edu>
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To: asc <jfy@cis.ksu.edu>
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Subject: GhostsFromThePast.5
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Date: Tue, 12 Jan 1993 16:52:56 +0500 (EST)
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This story is property of:
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Colin J. Wynne
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P.O. Box 4661
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Lexington, VA 24450
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(703) 464-4030
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cwynne@liberty.uc.wlu.edu
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|
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Permission is given to distribute this story freely as long as this header
|
|
is included with all files/hardcopies/electronic postings.
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--------------------------------------------------------------------------
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"Ghosts from the Past," CH. 13 through Ch. 15:
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----------------------------------------------
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CHAPTER XIII
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"Things are suddenly much clearer, Number One."
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"Yes, yes..."
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"They need new territory, and badly," continued Picard. "But
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|
why must they come bearing arms? They never even tried to
|
|
negotiate or anything. It doesn't seem rational."
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|
Riker thought, then responded, "They're too desperate to be
|
|
rational, Captain. They must think that if we turn down their
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|
request, then they loose the element of surprise in trying to take
|
|
our territory by force.
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|
"Look at it from their perspective. They've been hitting
|
|
dead ends for four-hundred years now. They just jumped at this
|
|
opportunity."
|
|
"Indeed. This must look like salvation to them."
|
|
Argyle, from the bridge of the battlecruiser, took advantage
|
|
of the lull to insert a comment of his own. "Well, we've got them
|
|
now. Commander Riker, you remember you wanted to take the fight
|
|
to them? Ask and you shall receive."
|
|
A smile broke across Will's face. "Yes, we certainly can."
|
|
Picard glanced curiously at the exchange, and recalled a
|
|
comment from the flight recordings. "What, exactly, did they mean
|
|
by 'the nature of Transwarp', Mr. Argyle? Please forgive me for
|
|
not being an engineer."
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|
"Of course, sir. You see, Transwarp engines are really just
|
|
normal warp engines. They don't go any faster than conventional
|
|
warp ever did. They just...do it somewhere else."
|
|
"That doesn't make anything any clearer."
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|
"Yes, sir, sorry."
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|
Riker helped out. "Captain, when we first encountered the
|
|
rips and tried to research them, we found information about
|
|
something called a dimensional interphase."
|
|
"Yes, Number One."
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|
"I looked a little closer. It seems that the phenomena
|
|
recorded by one of the former Enterprises is the basis for
|
|
Transwarp travel."
|
|
Argyle continued, "The interphase universe is completely
|
|
devoid of matter and time there flows at a slightly faster rate."
|
|
Picard made the connection. "So starships could travel in
|
|
that dimension and make the journey much shorter, subjective to
|
|
our universe."
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|
"Right. The engine nacelles have a subatomic transporter
|
|
matrix that induces an interphase just big enough for the ship,
|
|
and off they go."
|
|
Riker added, "What Engineer Sympak did was recalibrate the
|
|
transporter matrix to find our space."
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|
Picard smiled, belying the full realisation that came to him,
|
|
"So with all of the readings we got on the space on the other side
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|
of those rips, we could calibrate the engines to send a ship into
|
|
Jhonkai space."
|
|
Argyle frowned at that. "We could send a transwarp capable
|
|
ship there. And only if we refine the process. The last time
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|
this ship went through its own rip, it completely blew out the
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|
warp drive."
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|
"Yes, that does pose a problem, Captain."
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|
"Good work, Number One."
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|
"Not my work, sir. I suggest nominating Lt. Commander Data
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|
for official commendation. This is all because of his efforts."
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|
"Mr. Riker, you are Data's commanding officer. You send a
|
|
nomination to Starfleet."
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|
Will smiled, and his cheeks flushed. To forget his duties as
|
|
a starship commander! "Yes, sir."
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|
"I'm going to report to Starfleet. We have some big news for
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|
them."
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|
"Yes, we do, Captain. Enterprise out."
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Picard was still not used to Lt. Worf's bulky presence being
|
|
absent from the console behind his command chair. Seeing the
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|
small lithe form of Hathoway when he was expecting a Klingon
|
|
warrior was just not fair to do to his mind.
|
|
"Mr. Hathoway, get me Starfleet. Priority A-1."
|
|
"Yes, sir."
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|
Troi had quietly watched the entire playback from her own
|
|
chair at the middle of the bridge. She was now watching Picard
|
|
pace back and forth as he waited to talk to Starfleet Command. At
|
|
this distance from Earth, the communique would take several
|
|
minutes at best to get through.
|
|
"Captain," she began, "you are very upset. Over what you
|
|
expect Starfleet's response to be?"
|
|
He paused his track at the end of the bridge railing.
|
|
Resting his hands on its polished wood surface, he answered
|
|
without facing her. "Yes, yes. I know what they are going to
|
|
say, and it doesn't please me at all."
|
|
"It is good for a man to stand by his principles so strongly.
|
|
But don't you think that this situation is beyond one man?"
|
|
"Counsellor, if it weren't for each 'one man', there would be
|
|
no one at all to deal with this situation. The fact that those
|
|
other men will see this merely as a chance for vengeance frightens
|
|
me. I'm sure if we just sent a negotiating team, offering to help
|
|
the Jhonkai with their problems, to arrange territory for them...
|
|
Space is big enough for all intelligent beings to live without
|
|
bumping elbows - or waging war."
|
|
Troi smiled. "Indeed, Captain Picard. And you are just the
|
|
man to make a difference in that, aren't you?" she asked
|
|
rhetorically. "It still doesn't help to get so worried about it.
|
|
Nerves are not going to help your arguments to Starfleet at all."
|
|
It was the Captain's turn to smile. "I guess you're right."
|
|
"Sir," interrupted Hathoway, "Starfleet Command."
|
|
"On screen, Ensign."
|
|
The starscape shifted to the bust of a greying, broad chested
|
|
man in Starfleet uniform, admiral's marks visible near his throat.
|
|
"Captain Picard, this is Admiral Gruber." Picard recognised
|
|
the man; he was top dog at the Planetary Defense Fleet. His tone
|
|
was pleasant, but forceful. "Captain, I'll assume you have good
|
|
reason for contacting us on Priority. We are very busy over
|
|
here."
|
|
"Of course, Admiral. I have, in fact, some very important
|
|
news for you. The crew of the battlecruiser Enterprise has
|
|
completed the decoding of the ship's log entries."
|
|
"Excellent," responded the older man, his face practically
|
|
beaming. His grumbling bass voice was almost undetectably
|
|
brighter.
|
|
"Our Commander Argyle has determined that Transwarp drive
|
|
starships can be recalibrated to enter the home space of our
|
|
invaders, who call themselves the Jhonkai. It has been done once,
|
|
by the original crew of the battlecruiser, but with decidedly less
|
|
than perfect results. They almost destroyed the Transwarp
|
|
engines. Some time will have to be spent perfecting the process."
|
|
"Less than you think, Captain."
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|
"Sir?"
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|
"Since day one, we've been making contingency plans for
|
|
everything we could think of, including if we were somehow able to
|
|
counter-attack. This is the break we've been waiting for. I'll
|
|
need more information from Commander Argyle to get our Engineering
|
|
staff working on it." The Admiral glanced downward, apparently at
|
|
a computer screen of notes. "I'll also need Commander Riker to
|
|
transmit a complete copy of those logs to Starfleet Command for
|
|
analysis."
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|
Picard cleared his throat, and continued. "Admiral, there is
|
|
more. These beings are in trouble. Their home space is self-
|
|
destructing into these rips, and they've been looking for a new
|
|
home for four-hundred years. They are desperate, Admiral, and
|
|
they have resorted to violence out of fear that we wouldn't help
|
|
them. Obviously, however, we must."
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|
"One moment, Captain." Gruber turned off the sound pick-up,
|
|
and spoke to someone out of view for almost seven or eight minutes
|
|
before returning his attention to Picard.
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|
"That is quite an interesting piece of information, Captain.
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|
I must admit, that's one contingency we haven't planned for. It
|
|
doesn't change much of our operational plans, however, just our
|
|
purpose. We still want to force the Jhonkai into negotiations.
|
|
We now have something different about which to negotiate.
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|
"The Jhonkai seem a fairly advanced and industrialised race.
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|
They need territory, which we can give them access to: for a
|
|
price."
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|
Picard commented in a flat voice, "That's rather...mercenary,
|
|
isn't it, sir?"
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|
"Picard, they invaded us! We're not going to just let them
|
|
move in next door - unless we get something out of it: guaranteed
|
|
trade status, industrial concessions, commercial shipbuilding
|
|
quotas and disarmament, complete, unconditional and verifiable."
|
|
The Captain scowled. "Yes, Admiral. Whatever Starfleet
|
|
Command thinks best."
|
|
"Exactly, Captain. That's why we are Command. Your specific
|
|
orders will be transmitted later."
|
|
The screen blinked back to the serene black velvet, speckled
|
|
with beautiful, twinkling spots of light.
|
|
"Damn!"
|
|
|
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|
Riker sat impatiently on his bridge, drumming his fingers on
|
|
the armrest of the command chair, much to the consternation of his
|
|
officers. At least he wasn't pacing. After hearing about
|
|
Picard's conversation with Starfleet, he was on pins and needles
|
|
waiting for their orders, which were, supposedly, to follow
|
|
shortly.
|
|
Three hours ago.
|
|
"Commander." Worf's voice brought Will's head around with a
|
|
snap. "Encoded transmission from Starfleet, commanding officer's
|
|
eyes only."
|
|
Riker stood abruptly. "Excellent, Lieutenant."
|
|
"Shall I transfer it to your quarters?"
|
|
"No, Worf. Get me Captain Picard."
|
|
The burly Klingon looked slightly quizzical. "Of course,
|
|
sir. On screen."
|
|
The Captain's hawklike features swam onto the screen. "Ah,
|
|
Mr. Riker, I've just received-"
|
|
"Aye, sir. So have I. Permission to board your ship, sir?
|
|
I believe we have similar business..."
|
|
"Of course, Commander. I'll be waiting in my ready room."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Come."
|
|
Riker's form appeared on the other side of the door. Picard
|
|
looked up from his desktop monitor. "Have a seat, Number One."
|
|
Will sat across from the older man, turning another screen
|
|
towards himself. Sparing a glance towards the captain, Will was
|
|
suddenly struck by his own almost boyish excitement. He was about
|
|
to decode a set of Starfleet orders directed to himself - and his
|
|
ship.
|
|
What made him realise this was Picard's own look of nervous
|
|
expectation. He knew what he was going to find, something that he
|
|
wasn't going to like, but hoped wouldn't be there. Riker
|
|
swallowed, and suddenly felt ashamed of his exuberance.
|
|
The Captain cleared his throat. "Shall we proceed,
|
|
Commander?"
|
|
"Aye, aye, sir."
|
|
The two men fed authorisation and decoding sequences into the
|
|
terminals. Waiting patiently, they watched as information flowed
|
|
onto the screens. Exhilaration seeped into Riker's body as he
|
|
read his - his - mission orders. Picard stared unblinkingly
|
|
through several readings, at last allowing a raised eyebrow, but
|
|
no more.
|
|
Riker turned his attention towards that small gesture.
|
|
"Something interesting. sir?"
|
|
"Extremely, extremely."
|
|
"Let's hear it."
|
|
"Certainly, Number One.
|
|
"NCC 1701-D U.S.S. Enterprise is to proceed at best speed to
|
|
rendezvous point to be announced shortly, whereupon the vessel
|
|
will dock for an indefinite period of time. Senior officers will
|
|
transfer for duty aboard NCC 1701-C U.S.S. Enterprise during that
|
|
same period. Captain Picard is to be transferred aboard squadron
|
|
flagship to head Starfleet diplomatic party after contact with
|
|
Jhonkai homeworlds.
|
|
"What do you think, Commander?"
|
|
"A Starfleet diplomatic envoy? Not from the Federation
|
|
Council - that surprises me."
|
|
"Me as well."
|
|
"They must think highly of you at Starfleet Command."
|
|
"Indeed; I'm flattered, but for Starfleet to have bypassed
|
|
the Council-"
|
|
"They must have invoked wartime powers and overridden the
|
|
Council."
|
|
"Yes. Still, I'm glad to be able to have a hand in this
|
|
after all. Now, Mr. Riker, what, if I may ask, are your orders?"
|
|
Riker beamed a smile. "Well, most of that was mentioned in
|
|
your orders, but there was a little something more..."
|
|
"Yes?"
|
|
"I'm to receive a brevet appointment to Captain for the
|
|
duration of our operations in Jhonkai space."
|
|
Picard stood and held out his hand. "Congratulations, Will.
|
|
Captain Riker, that is."
|
|
"Thank you, sir."
|
|
|
|
|
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|
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|
|
|
CHAPTER XIV
|
|
|
|
|
|
Jean-Luc Picard sat all the way back, pushing every square
|
|
inch of his back into the comfortable simulated leather of the
|
|
command chair. Starbase 93 loomed large in the viewscreen, with
|
|
only a small sliver of stars garnishing the bottom of the screen.
|
|
A hint of bluish-red nebula played about the image's periphery.
|
|
"Starbase welcomes Enterprise. Admiral Wesley sends his
|
|
compliments, and requests that Captain Picard join him on the
|
|
temporary squadron flagship, dock fourteen."
|
|
"Starbase, this is Captain Picard. Please inform the Admiral
|
|
that I'll be aboard presently."
|
|
"Acknowledged, Captain. Our crew will prepare a berth for
|
|
your ship. Starbase out."
|
|
At that moment, Geordi emerged from the turbolift. "Mr.
|
|
LaForge, you have the conn."
|
|
Geordi stopped short, mildly surprised. "Sir?"
|
|
"I have to meet an Admiral. Make sure they take good care of
|
|
my ship."
|
|
"Of course, sir."
|
|
The ship's gangway deposited Picard in a corridor filled with
|
|
spacesuited workers, going in and out of airlocks into the main
|
|
docking bay. The tiny monkey-like figures danced among the
|
|
metallic leviathans on which they worked. The battlecruiser was
|
|
moored directly aft of Picard's Enterprise. Walking to the
|
|
nearest lift, Jean-Luc entered, and said "Dock fourteen, please."
|
|
The captain was more than mildly surprised to find himself in
|
|
a waiting lounge devoid of the huge clearsteel viewing ports to
|
|
which he was accustomed. Above huge double doors set into the
|
|
nondescript wall, the number fourteen was printed in plain,
|
|
standard Starfleet typeface. The doors were just closing on
|
|
Riker's back.
|
|
"Commander!"
|
|
Will turned around, causing the doors to slide open again.
|
|
"Only for a few more minutes, sir." Picard raised a querulous
|
|
eyebrow. "My appointment is about to be confirmed."
|
|
"Yes, of course." Picard stepped up to join his comrade. "I
|
|
must say, Mr. Riker, that I..."
|
|
Picard's voice trailed off as he stepped onto the gangway.
|
|
The top of the corridor was transparent, and through it, Picard
|
|
was awestruck by beauty incarnate.
|
|
"Impressive, isn't it sir?"
|
|
Glistening pearlescent in the bay floodlights, the sleek form
|
|
of an Enterprise class transwarp heavy cruiser - a ship three
|
|
quarters of a century old! - sat like a watchful sphinx over their
|
|
diminutive forms.
|
|
NCC 1844, U.S.S. Ranger, perched at the end of the gangway,
|
|
the starbase's umbilical connecting smoothly at the main loading
|
|
doors on the portside of the saucer. The two officers walked
|
|
silently down the ramp, until the two large doors stood several
|
|
feet over them. They parted, and a boatswain's whistle piped them
|
|
aboard.
|
|
A yeoman stood crisply to attention. "Admiral Wesley sends
|
|
his compliments, and requests to see captains right away, sirs!"
|
|
"Thank you, Ensign," offered Picard, "we would be
|
|
delighted."
|
|
Once inside, though, Picard realised that the sheer elegance
|
|
faded quickly into stark, military functionality. The corridors,
|
|
much more cramped than Jean-Luc was familiar with, were floored in
|
|
steel grating covering easily accessed systems, to accommodate
|
|
damage control, and survival compartments in the bulkheads to
|
|
provide for catastrophic damage survival. Picard realised in the
|
|
back of his mind that all this suited the purpose for which
|
|
Ranger had been built, but it nonetheless made Picard feel
|
|
uncomfortable.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Admiral Garrett Wesley shook Riker's hand vigorously after
|
|
formal introductions had been made. "Commander, you have done
|
|
some very good work, I've heard."
|
|
"Thank you, Admiral, sir. That means a great deal to me,
|
|
coming from you."
|
|
"I have something else for you, Commander." The Admiral, a
|
|
small round man with a full head of grey speckled hair, picked a
|
|
small, black, gold trimmed box from his desk.
|
|
"Attention!" Riker and Picard, who hovered near the back of
|
|
the room, both went rigid. "Commander William Riker, as
|
|
Commanding Officer of Task Force Odysseus, it is my pleasure to
|
|
offer you a field promotion to the rank of Captain, with all
|
|
accompanying rights and responsibilities, for the duration of this
|
|
assignment."
|
|
"Thank you, sir. I would be honoured to accept, sir."
|
|
Admiral Wesley removed a tiny gold dot from the box. "So be
|
|
it." He fastened the insignia alongside the three pins which had
|
|
indicated Will's rank as Commander. "Congratulations, Captain
|
|
Riker."
|
|
Picard's smile was almost as wide as Will's own.
|
|
"You know, Captain - or should I say Captains - this is
|
|
rather nostalgic for me."
|
|
"And how is that, Admiral?" inquired Picard.
|
|
"My grandfather was a very good friend of James Kirk's, and
|
|
he worked with the original Enterprise on several occasions."
|
|
"Indeed," noted Riker. "Commodore Robert Wesley has quite a
|
|
reputation, and the Academy uses his accomplishments as examples
|
|
for us all."
|
|
"Now, Captain Riker, I must be on my way to the task force
|
|
command meeting. The Klingon and Kzinti force commanders will be
|
|
there and we must establish some basic things."
|
|
"Kzinti, sir?"
|
|
"Yes... It seems they've been quite the busy little felines
|
|
these past years. Anyway, I'll expect you there in fifteen
|
|
minutes, Conference Room Three."
|
|
"Me, sir? I thought you said task force command."
|
|
"Just be there. Captain Picard."
|
|
"Yes, Admiral?"
|
|
"The diplomatic detachment is meeting in Conference Room
|
|
Eight. There are representatives from the Council and from
|
|
Starfleet Command who need to see you and the rest of the envoy."
|
|
"Yes, sir."
|
|
"Gentlemen." And with that, the stout little admiral turned
|
|
and left the room.
|
|
Both captains stood silent for some seconds. Riker broke the
|
|
silence first. "Admiral Wesley moves rather quickly."
|
|
"He doesn't have much time to waste, Captain Riker."
|
|
"That sounds so..."
|
|
Picard laughed. "I understand completely. It takes a while
|
|
to get used to."
|
|
"We have meetings to get to."
|
|
"Yes. I am most curious to find out who I'll be working
|
|
with. And as for you, good Luck, Will."
|
|
"Thank you. And to you, Jean-Luc."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Riker quietly entered the briefing room, realised that the
|
|
Admiral was not yet present, and moved to a chair at the opposite
|
|
side of the room where a name plate indicated he was to be. Not
|
|
even had his back touched the chair when the door opened again and
|
|
a Marine honour guard called attention. The group of officers at
|
|
the table - of whom Riker was by far the most junior, the rest
|
|
being admirals of various rank and one commodore - stood sharply.
|
|
Garrett Wesley moved quickly and directly to the head of the
|
|
table, and mumbled a terse "At ease," before sitting.
|
|
"Ladies and gentleman" - for indeed the commodore was a
|
|
female, and quite a pretty one at that, noted Riker - "I have been
|
|
informed that the Klingon and Kzinti commanders have just boarded
|
|
the station and should be here directly."
|
|
To punctuate his words, the door opened again, and a truly
|
|
impressive Klingon, larger even that Worf, standing close to seven
|
|
feet, entered, resplendent in his shiny black dress battle armour
|
|
and flowing shoulder-cape.
|
|
"Admiral Krond?"
|
|
"Yes, Admiral Wesley."
|
|
Indeed, it was the same Klingon that the Enterprise had been
|
|
with during the training manoeuvres that led to the discovery of
|
|
the battlecruiser, and the start of all of this. "It is an honour
|
|
to meet you, Admiral. Has your fleet arrived yet?"
|
|
"My ships and I are at your disposal."
|
|
"Please, have a seat." The Klingon and the two officers who
|
|
had accompanied him took seats near the opposite end of the table
|
|
from Admiral Wesley.
|
|
"Now, Admiral Krond, if I may inquire now, what size force
|
|
have you brought with you?"
|
|
"My flagship is the C-8 dreadnaught Reaver. Under my
|
|
command, I have a C-8 heavy shuttle carrier, a D-7 command
|
|
cruiser, a D-7 shuttle carrier, eleven battlecruisers, eight light
|
|
cruisers, and six battle frigates. Twenty-nine ships with forty
|
|
fighter-shuttles, all Transwarp capable."
|
|
By the end of this recitation, the jaws of more than one
|
|
Federation intelligence officer present, had dropped. An
|
|
anonymous low whistle floated through the air. Krond inflated
|
|
with pride.
|
|
Wesley began in a very polite tone. "Admiral, the Federation
|
|
was unaware of the existence of two C-8 dreadnaughts. How, might
|
|
I ask do you come to possess these?"
|
|
"The heavy carrier Vulture was an orbitting museum around
|
|
Klinshai. As for the Reaver, let us just say that the Klingon
|
|
government has many...contingency plans."
|
|
"I see; and that is-"
|
|
"And that is all I am authorised to or wish to say on the
|
|
subject, Admiral."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The major, but probably least significant, portion of the
|
|
meeting, the diplomatic ice-breaking and verbal shows of force,
|
|
was done in little more than an hour. The Kzinti Admiral k'Rzaal
|
|
had brought a smaller force than Krond, but one which caused
|
|
even more eyebrows to be raised, and one that would precipitate a
|
|
great deal more grumbling through the ranks of intelligence
|
|
officers. For the kzinti should not have had even had Transwarp
|
|
technology, according to treaty, yet were able to field a space
|
|
control ship, six battle cruisers, and nine smaller ships.
|
|
Also participating in Task Force Odysseus was a small, but
|
|
powerful, Gorn contingent, of two dreadnaughts, and three each of
|
|
cruisers and destroyers, under Admiral S'Tyrrg. The Gorns, always
|
|
staunch allies of the Federation, maintained their own fleet,
|
|
which was of very high quality.
|
|
The largest force was, of course, Starfleet's own. Wesley's
|
|
flagship would be (when it arrived for rendezvous) the space
|
|
control ship Ingram, whose sister ship Saipan would also take part
|
|
in the operation. Three of the venerable Excelsior class
|
|
battleships, including the famous nameship of the class, which was
|
|
a contemporary of the Ingram, formed the spearhead of the direct
|
|
combat units, which also included twelve more battlecruisers,
|
|
eighteen of the Constitution II heavy cruisers, ten destroyers,
|
|
and a dozen-and-a-half heavy frigates. Starfleet had also managed
|
|
to assemble complete fighter groups and crews for two Essex class
|
|
heavy carriers.
|
|
But what that all amounted to was that the Gorn, Kzinti, and
|
|
Klingons had modern front-line combatants, except for the SCS and
|
|
C-8's, while all of the Federation ships ranged from twenty to
|
|
ninety years old.
|
|
After all of the logistics and unnecessary intelligence
|
|
officers had left, the remaining, relatively small, group of
|
|
officers, including Riker, settled into a tactics session to
|
|
figure out what to do with those meager seeming resources.
|
|
Wesley addressed the group. "Starfleet now has a collection
|
|
of over forty, shall we say, refugees, beamed off of Jhonkai
|
|
vessels before they were able to self-destruct. What we were able
|
|
to determine from them after questioning, is that we need to make
|
|
as direct an attack as possible to convince them to abandon their
|
|
invasion. As a side note, this data is fairly reliable, because at
|
|
least eight of the Jhonkai are of officer status, some very high
|
|
up at that.
|
|
"Of course, we will have to offer them a chance to surrender
|
|
before initiating any hostilities-"
|
|
"Ridiculous!" scowled Krond, and the kzin growled deep in
|
|
his chest.
|
|
"If you will let me finish," bellowed Wesley in a voice all
|
|
out of proportion to his diminutive size, "gentlebeings. I have
|
|
received authorisation to allow minimal response time after the
|
|
ultimatum. They will not catch my fleet with its trousers down.
|
|
"I am sure that you have both been informed by your
|
|
governments that you are submitting to my command authority for
|
|
this operation. However, Krond, k'Rzaal, and S'Tyrrg, you will
|
|
all be immediate advisers, as members of my flagstaff.
|
|
"This is clear?" he asked, in a completely non-threatening
|
|
tone. Various acknowledgements were given.
|
|
"This assault will not be easy. They will likely outnumber
|
|
us greatly, so we must go straight for their largest collection of
|
|
ships and defeat them before we can be attritted by numerous small
|
|
battles. Straight into the lion's den is how it must be.
|
|
"You may all now return to your ships to begin final
|
|
preparations. Captain Riker, Commodore Mateo, please remain."
|
|
With a dramatic turn that snapped his cape in a sharp arc
|
|
about his muscular, armoured body, Krond strode from the room
|
|
wordlessly, a trio of aides following in formation. At the door,
|
|
k'Rzaal met him, equally as large, if not taller, and definitely
|
|
bulkier, even without battle armour. With an arrogant
|
|
graciousness, he allowed the Klingon to go first. The Gorn
|
|
followed them both, mixed in with the remaining human officers,
|
|
until only three forms remained at the conference table.
|
|
The Admiral addressed Will. "Commodore Mateo will be your
|
|
immediate superior, as commander of the entire battlecruiser
|
|
detachment."
|
|
Riker spared a long glance, taking in a heart shaped, dark-
|
|
skinned face with high cheek bones, and large hazel eyes. A frame
|
|
of wavy black hair came down to and over the shoulders of her red
|
|
and black uniform.
|
|
"The designation is more for a table of organisation than for
|
|
reality, however, since the battlecruisers will be thoroughly
|
|
integrated into the rest of the fleet."
|
|
Riker nodded, and became curious as to the point of all of
|
|
this. "The fact remains, Captain, that you are presently the most
|
|
experienced commanding officer we have who is both familiar with
|
|
the tremendous capabilities of an Alaska class battlecruiser and
|
|
of the foe that we will be fighting. You have also demonstrated
|
|
a keen understanding as to how to use that knowledge, and the
|
|
proper disposition for this type of mission. Do you disagree
|
|
with any of this, Captain Riker?"
|
|
Riker thought momentarily, then responded carefully, "Sir, I
|
|
understand the tremendous importance of the mission that Odysseus
|
|
is assuming, and I am willing to play as active a part in that
|
|
mission as will be helpful. And I agree that I have experience
|
|
with the ship and the Jhonkai."
|
|
"Good! Because of that, the commodore and I have chosen you
|
|
to command a small detachment of four battlecruisers:
|
|
Enterprise, Groombridge, Caeser, and Lugal. If I, as Task Force
|
|
Commander, decide that I need those ships for anything--anything--
|
|
out of the ordinary, I will not hesitate to call upon you.
|
|
"I don't exactly know what I may need you to do, but the
|
|
collective firepower of four battlecruisers in some sort of tricky
|
|
situation might very well be decisive. Do you understand all of
|
|
this?"
|
|
"Sir, I do. Thank you for your trust."
|
|
"You've earned it. Anyway, I have to be going. My flagship
|
|
should have docked by now. At ease, both of you."
|
|
In a blur, Wesley's compact figure breezed through the
|
|
doorway, and was gone. Mateo stood.
|
|
"Captain, you come with some good references. I know you
|
|
won't let me down."
|
|
Will allowed a nervous smile. "With all this at stake, I'd
|
|
better not."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
CHAPTER XV
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Task Force Commander's Log, Stardate 42952.8: Thirteen
|
|
ships are yet to arrive, but otherwise preparations are going as
|
|
well as can be hoped for under trying conditions.
|
|
"Lt. Argyle and his assistant, Ensign Crusher, are still
|
|
finalising calculations for the 'rip' travel, based on their own
|
|
research, and on information from the Jhonkai we have questioned.
|
|
"I have met all of my commanding officers, and I feel
|
|
reassured. They are all of very good quality and I know I will
|
|
not have to assume any more worries than necessary on this most
|
|
important of missions.
|
|
"The diplomatic contingent is secure aboard the Saipan. My
|
|
decision not to put them aboard the flagship was not an easy one,
|
|
but I have my rationale. If a diplomatic opportunity arises
|
|
before hostilities are finished, the Ingram and myself must needs
|
|
remain with those ships that are still fighting.
|
|
"So, for now, I have naught to do but wait, and has there
|
|
ever in history been a naval commander who enjoyed waiting? The
|
|
more men he commands, the worse the waiting..."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Come."
|
|
The door parted to admit Worf, who entered and took a seat.
|
|
Riker was relaxing in his cabin, where Data had already arrived.
|
|
Will had invited his friends to come and join him, since only the
|
|
engineers had anything to keep them busy for the while.
|
|
"Captain," said Worf, his way of greeting his host.
|
|
"Worf, you've finished what you've been doing?"
|
|
"Yes, sir. The Tactics Board has completed briefing all the
|
|
fleet weapons officers."
|
|
"Good, good." Riker's voice trailed off, and his eyes
|
|
assumed a faraway look.
|
|
Data cocked his head to one side, and spoke. "If I am not
|
|
mistaken, sir, something is troubling you."
|
|
"Hmm? No, it's- Actually, you're not mistaken, Data.
|
|
Something is."
|
|
"I had thought that you were very content to command this
|
|
ship. Has something changed your opinion?"
|
|
"No, certainly not! The ship is wonderful, and my crew is
|
|
exemplary. It's just..." He was silent for several long moments.
|
|
"Data, when was the last war involving the Federation?"?
|
|
"Searching. The Federation Council last declared war in
|
|
response to aggressions by the Klingon Empire, on Stardate 9932.3.
|
|
Since that time, three major border skirmishes with the Romulans,
|
|
the most recent of which was eighteen years ago, and-" Data cut
|
|
himself off, before continuing.
|
|
"I believe I understand now, Captain. You believe that the
|
|
Federation is, to use a phrase, 'out of practice'?"
|
|
"Somewhat, but I think that what's really bothering me is
|
|
more personal. I've fought maybe a dozen little encounters with
|
|
these Jhonkai, and now I'm being treated like I'm some sort of
|
|
expert. Me, with a first command--not even permanent--and a
|
|
little luck.
|
|
"But you're right, too, Data. The whole Federation!" Riker
|
|
rose abruptly and walked towards the viewport. "We shouldn't be
|
|
fighting this war. This or any; it's crazy. War is-"
|
|
"A fine tradition, sir," interrupted Worf. "Many of my
|
|
ancestors found their glory in warfare, and there is no reason why
|
|
it should take on any less meaning today."
|
|
"Worf, I appreciate your background, but it's this simple. A
|
|
civilisation as advanced as the Federation should not be fighting
|
|
a war."
|
|
"I disagree, Captain. Two civilisations as advanced, as
|
|
you call it, as the Federation, should not fight. But if one side
|
|
is determined to have a war, it cannot be avoided."
|
|
"I believe that Lt. Worf is correct, sir. The Federation had
|
|
much the same beliefs that you express before the war with the
|
|
Klingons. History shows that because of unwillingness to accept
|
|
the fact of the war, the Federation did very poorly the first year
|
|
of the conflict. And-"
|
|
Riker nodded. "And only after we realised the Klingon point
|
|
of view were we able to finish the war and establish the
|
|
negotiations that brought us to where we are today. Yes, I see
|
|
your point. Thank you both for helping settle my mind. I still
|
|
am going to worry about myself, though, if you don't mind."
|
|
Data said, "But you will do very well, sir."
|
|
Worf grunted. "You are no Klingon, but I agree."
|
|
Riker couldn't help but laugh at Worf's statement.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The Saipan was tremendous, even compared to his own ship,
|
|
thought Jean-Luc Picard, as he walked the steel corridors towards
|
|
his stateroom. Alongside him were Dr. Crusher and Counsellor
|
|
Troi, whom he had asked to accompany him as advisers. They had
|
|
readily accepted. As the door closed behind them, he offered
|
|
chairs, and took one near a viewport himself.
|
|
"Seeing as how Starfleet has already spelled out the terms it
|
|
is willing to offer, I have only one real duty to perform here. I
|
|
have to exploit, perhaps even create, some opportunity to open
|
|
negotiations.
|
|
"And it seems like Starfleet plans on giving me little chance
|
|
to do that before the Jhonkai have been crushed completely."
|
|
Troi pointed out, "But we do have some opportunity, sir. And
|
|
you will figure out how to take advantage of it, before it is too
|
|
late."
|
|
"Yes, we have to come to terms with these poor beings before
|
|
they have nothing left to save."
|
|
"Poor beings!" Dr. Crusher exploded. "Excuse me, Captain,
|
|
but have you been to the Starbase sickbay recently? Have you seen
|
|
all of the mangled bodies that have been in and out of there? My
|
|
God, these 'poor beings' have wiped out almost a million
|
|
civilians, scattered around this sector alone.
|
|
"The Jhonkai cannot be treated any less harshly than
|
|
they have treated us if they are ever to be dealt with safely.
|
|
After all the damage they've wrought; on innocent people, on
|
|
Starfleet officers, and equipment, on Wes-" Beverly threw her
|
|
hands to her face, and turned quickly, hiding the tears that were
|
|
starting to form.
|
|
"Doctor," said Picard compassionately, rising quickly.
|
|
Troi waved him to stop, and herself moved towards the doctor.
|
|
Picard didn't want to leave, but was forced to concede the
|
|
Counsellor's expertise. With a dejected mood and a scowl, Jean-
|
|
Luc turned wordlessly and stalked out of the room.
|
|
When she heard the sighing of the closing door, Crusher
|
|
turned back around. "Oh, Deanna! I've got to apologise to-"
|
|
"The Captain understands. Don't worry about him right now."
|
|
Biting her bottom lip, she reluctantly reseated herself.
|
|
"Beverly, Wes is doing much better."
|
|
"Is he? I mean really?"
|
|
"I would not try to deceive you, you know that."
|
|
With that reassurance, and the listlessness of having
|
|
released a terrible emotional burden, Crusher leaned back in the
|
|
chair, somewhat relaxed, and wiped a last tear from her cheek.
|
|
"I have been with him almost every day, helping him deal with
|
|
what he has done, and it has helped. He will always carry that
|
|
remorse in him, but that will help him not to repeat his mistake.
|
|
The last time that the doctor had seen her son, he was
|
|
tremendously depressed, hardly speaking, eating little, and
|
|
torturing himself by constantly thinking about the three other men
|
|
who he had forced himself to go and see. Two of them were still
|
|
unconscious in regen baths.
|
|
Since then, they had talked only briefly, on a few
|
|
occasions, and that was not enough to tell how he was. She had
|
|
assumed the worse. Damn the Jhonkai for creating the havoc which
|
|
had kept her too busy to see her son.
|
|
"You were told that he is back on duty, at my
|
|
recommendation?"
|
|
"Yes, I had heard, but not what he is doing."
|
|
"He and Lt. Argyle have been working on the problem of moving
|
|
through the rips. I don't think he will be back in his old
|
|
posting, however."
|
|
"I have to see him before the fleet departs."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Newly promoted Lt. Cmdr. Argyle tapped one last sequence into
|
|
the computer, and shut it down, leaving it for the briefing he
|
|
would be conducting in a few minutes. He stood, stretched
|
|
dramatically, and turned to where Wes sat, staring at the screen
|
|
he was using.
|
|
"What's the matter, Wes? Aren't you finished yet?"
|
|
"Yeah, I guess so."
|
|
"You guess so? Well did you finish the programming, or
|
|
what?"
|
|
"Yes. I just don't know if..."
|
|
At Captain Riker's suggestion, Argyle had assigned Wes, after
|
|
the two of them had done the brunt of the work on the Transwarp
|
|
algorithms for rip travel, to complete the programming to increase
|
|
shield output on the older ships. As Riker had put it, "back in
|
|
the saddle" as soon as possible.
|
|
The boy's work was superb, and the computer simulations
|
|
backed up his theories, but he was apathetic about the problem,
|
|
even as he had been completely absorbed by the warp field
|
|
recalibration.
|
|
Argyle was no psychologist, but he had to put back together a
|
|
few younger officers in his time, after they had done something
|
|
they thought they could never be forgiven for, by themselves or
|
|
anyone else.
|
|
"What's eating you, Wes?"
|
|
Crusher's head turned, a mildly insulted look on his face.
|
|
"You have to ask?"
|
|
"Look, you made a mistake." He winced. "And you don't like
|
|
it. And you don't like the fact that you weren't the only one hurt
|
|
by it. Well, take that as a lesson. As a Starfleet officer, you
|
|
are responsible for more than just yourself. That probably doesn't
|
|
make it any easier, but you just have to face it.
|
|
"Now, what have all the computer simulations said about your
|
|
reprogramming?"
|
|
"It will increase shield power by 70% in all diburnium-osmium
|
|
coil based shielding systems."
|
|
"That's fantastic! Nobody has ever been able to do that
|
|
before."
|
|
Wesley dismissed it with a sharp shake of his head. "It was
|
|
obvious. Anyone could have-"
|
|
"Obvious to you, maybe, but not to anyone else who ever
|
|
tackled that problem. With this advantage, think of how many more
|
|
men will be saved when we fight the Jhonkai. Did you think of
|
|
that?"
|
|
A realisation dawned across the youthful visage. "No...All
|
|
those people."
|
|
"Who will be safer because of your improvements. Now I ask
|
|
you again, are you finished yet?"
|
|
"Yes, sir!"
|
|
"Good. The briefing starts in ten minutes. Let's get this
|
|
place cleaned up."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Dr. Crusher watched the doors open and saw dozens of officers
|
|
in Engineering gold move purposefully from the briefing room.
|
|
They had some serious work to accomplish in the next fourteen
|
|
hours before the Task Force departed.
|
|
When the room was almost empty, she walked in. The two
|
|
occupants noticed her.
|
|
"Good afternoon, Doctor."
|
|
"Hello, Mr. Argyle."
|
|
"Mom." Wes crossed over to the doctor.
|
|
"Argyle, do you need him right now?"
|
|
"No, ma'am. He's yours."
|
|
"Thank you. Wes?"
|
|
"All right. Where are we going?" he asked as the door slid
|
|
shut behind the two of them.
|
|
"Just for a walk," she answered. "Wes, you know I'm going
|
|
with the task force, don't you?"
|
|
He stopped short. "Why? You shouldn't be-"
|
|
"Yes, I should. I'm acting as personal advisor to Captain
|
|
Picard, and as an extra surgeon aboard the Saipan."
|
|
"But mom, what if something, you know, happens?" She could
|
|
see that he was very, very concerned. After all, he had lost one
|
|
parent already.
|
|
"And what if something happens to you? You've already given
|
|
me enough of a scare."
|
|
Now he saw the worry in her eyes, too. She had already lost
|
|
one of the important men in her life. "Mom, I did something
|
|
stupid, and I know it. But I'll be alright. I just mean...I'll
|
|
be alright."
|
|
Beverly took her son and embraced him. She heard, more than
|
|
what he said, how he had said it, and she believed him. When they
|
|
separated, she said, "Now don't you tell me that I shouldn't be
|
|
going. We both have duties to perform."
|
|
He grinned sheepishly. "OK."
|
|
"If I don't see you before departure, good luck."
|
|
"You too."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The bridge of the Ingram class Space Control Ship was
|
|
enormous. Admiral Garrett Wesley's command chair was behind and
|
|
above the Captain's chair at the center of the circular room, and
|
|
was itself surrounded by seats for the Admiral's staff, as the
|
|
captain's was by his first officer's and tactical officer.
|
|
The klaxon was off, but the pulsing amber alert lights still
|
|
played about the reflective surfaces of the room. At least twenty
|
|
stations sat about the perimeter of the room, parting only for the
|
|
three turbolift doors. The main viewer was, of course, fore, with
|
|
secondary and only slightly smaller viewers port aft and starboard
|
|
aft, so everyone could always see clearly what was going on.
|
|
Under the main viewer, the Tactical Weapons Officer ran
|
|
simulations with her crew. Behind her, the helmsman and navigator
|
|
cycled through their own checklists.
|
|
Though he had been in this very room too many times to
|
|
recall, all of these details played at the back of the Admiral's
|
|
mind while he crossed towards the Communications Officer, under
|
|
the portside viewer.
|
|
"All right, Commander, on screen."
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The viewscreen directly above shifted, and the view of the
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starbase disappeared.
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"U.S.S. Ingram, Admiral Garrett Wesley receiving."
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|
"This is Admiral Gruber, Starfleet Headquarters. Admiral
|
|
Wesley, when is your fleet set for departure?"
|
|
"We are leaving Starbase in nine hours, twenty-three
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minutes."
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"Can you speed up that time at all?"
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That question unnerved Wesley. "Not without seriously
|
|
jeopardising our preparations, sir. May I ask why?"
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Gruber looked as though chewing on something distasteful.
|
|
"The Jhonkai forces has stepped up their invasion schedule, it
|
|
seems. Numerous heavy units are being reported all over Federation
|
|
space. An outpost on the Romulan border was attacked and destroyed
|
|
twenty minutes ago. The situation is becoming critical."
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"We'll do our best, sir."
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That didn't seem to appease him. "Starfleet out."
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From cwynne@liberty.uc.wlu.edu Tue Jan 12 15:53:52 1993
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From: "Colin J. Wynne" <cwynne@liberty.uc.wlu.edu>
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Sender: "Colin J. Wynne" <cwynne@liberty.uc.wlu.edu>
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To: asc <jfy@cis.ksu.edu>
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Subject: GhostsFromThePast.6
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Date: Tue, 12 Jan 1993 16:53:42 +0500 (EST)
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This story is property of:
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Colin J. Wynne
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P.O. Box 4661
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Lexington, VA 24450
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(703) 464-4030
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cwynne@liberty.uc.wlu.edu
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|
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Permission is given to distribute this story freely as long as this header
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is included with all files/hardcopies/electronic postings.
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--------------------------------------------------------------------------
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"Ghosts from the Past," Ch. 16 through Ch. 17:
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----------------------------------------------
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CHAPTER XVI
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Admiral Heirok looked up from the sector status board he was
|
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studying. The aide stood patiently, a small databoard held in his
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|
hand.
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"Yes?"
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|
"New reports, sir."
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|
Heirok read over the screen, blinked read it again, then a
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|
third time. Without a word, he shoved the board back at the aide,
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who almost dropped it, and shot across the room at a dead run.
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|
"What the hell!" muttered the aide, then looked at the data
|
|
himself. A knot of fear tightened in his stomach.
|
|
The President looked up at the approaching Chief-of-Staff.
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"Mr. President!"
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|
"What is it?" he asked, worry seeping into his voice. He had
|
|
already been two days without sleep and wondering how things
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|
could get worse.
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|
"New reports. Best estimates give us 1500 enemy heavy units
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in Federation territory."
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"Oh my God." The sweat was noticeable on his brow.
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|
"They're concentrating in one of our weakest sectors, at
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|
least six-hundred of them. Right here." His hand pointed towards
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a nearby strategic plot.
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"How many ships do we have there?"
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"Sixty cruisers, and about one-hundred smaller units. For
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the entire sector. And..."
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|
"What is it Admiral?"
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"The Transwarp Strike Fleet is the closest force."
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|
"I see. What is your recommendation, Admiral?"
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|
"Mr. President, if that is any indication of the total force
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|
that the Jhonkai possess, Wesley doesn't stand a chance. Even if
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|
he does manage to win, what good will it be if there's no
|
|
Federation to come back to."
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|
The President all of a sudden felt incredibly burdened.
|
|
Wesley's force appeared to be the UFP's only chance. But Heirok
|
|
was a good officer, and the President had come to trust the
|
|
Andorian's advice. "What does Gruber say?"
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|
"One minute, sir, and I'll find out."
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|
Heirok spoke to a nearby intercom for several minutes, then
|
|
returned. "He concurs."
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|
"I see. Prepare to recall the Strike Fleet. Log the order
|
|
on my authority, Stardate 42954.0."
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In defiance of everything that Wesley had been told, the
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|
fleet was ready almost two hours ahead of schedule. With a
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|
queasiness of anticipation in his gut, Admiral Garrett Wesley
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|
surveyed the bridge of his flagship.
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"Status."
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"Sir, all engineers report alterations complete and
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|
simulations positive. Shield refits are all completed and full
|
|
tests conducted. Shuttles and small craft have been recovered from
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starbase, and the fighter-shuttles are all armed and ready. All
|
|
ships at yellow alert, all supplies aboard, and awaiting departure
|
|
order."
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Wesley took in a fateful feeling breath and prepared to give
|
|
the order, when the Communications Officer announced, "Admiral,
|
|
priority Flash, Starfleet Command to Task Force Commander."
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"On screen."
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The starfield turned into a blue UFP shield, and Wesley heard
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the voice of Starfleet Chief-of-Staff, Admiral Heirok.
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"Admiral Garrett Wesley, Commanding Officer, Task Force
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Odysseus. As of Stardate 42954.0 you are ordered, by authority of
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Starfleet Command representing the President of the United
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Federation of Planets, to cease all preparations for entrance into
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Jhonkai space. Your force will engage a reported six-hundred
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Jhonkai heavy units in your sector. Interception co-ordinates
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|
have been transmitted to your ship's computers. Acknowledge this
|
|
order."
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A stunned silence clamped down on the bridge crew.
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|
"Acknowledge this order," repeated the screen.
|
|
"Commander, get me the admirals."
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|
In moments, the shield was gone, and the screen split to show
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|
k'Rzaal, Krond, and S'Tyrrg.
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|
"Admirals, I have just been ordered to abandon Odysseus
|
|
because the invasion has begun in this sector. I need opinions."
|
|
"Bah!" snarled Krond. "We will do nothing here. We must
|
|
strike into these usurpers' homeland before we will accomplish
|
|
anything."
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|
The Gorn nodded his scaled, dinosaur-like head gravely.
|
|
"Admiral Wesley, he is right. The purpose of this force must not
|
|
be sacrificed for a victory of one battle, only to lose the war."
|
|
The kzin's only response was a piercing, shrieking warcry,
|
|
and a mouthful of carnivorous teeth.
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|
"I see your opinions. I will let you know of my decision
|
|
shortly. Wesley out.
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|
"Captain, maintain your ship." Wesley left through the
|
|
central turbolift. Out of sight, it rotated, and deposited him in
|
|
the viewing lounge just aft of the bridge, and above a docking
|
|
port. He went to the intercom.
|
|
"Fleet Admiral to Captain Picard."
|
|
"Picard here." His hawklike nose and thinning white hair
|
|
became visible. "Jean-Luc, I have a problem."
|
|
Two minutes later, Picard said, "I see. It is your decision,
|
|
Admiral. Not much of one, because it was quite clearly a direct
|
|
order. But my people will not get a chance to do their jobs while
|
|
we're still here."
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|
"But all the people in this sector. What are we condemning
|
|
them to by leaving? Don't answer, Captain. It's not your
|
|
problem. I must return to the bridge."
|
|
The doors parted and Wesley was back on the bridge. The room
|
|
was dead quiet, without even any of the normal intercom chatter.
|
|
The energisers rumbled faintly through the deck, and all eyes
|
|
followed Wesley as he walked carefully to his seat. It seemed a
|
|
monumental task to climb the two small steps to mount it.
|
|
Taking in every face in the compartment, thinking of them,
|
|
whatever families and friends they were leaving behind, thinking
|
|
of everything, he finally settled his eyes on the main viewer, out
|
|
of contact with anything and anybody but the blackness of space.
|
|
What am I condemning them to?
|
|
"The die is cast."
|
|
He inhaled deeply, and closed his eyes. "All ships to Red
|
|
Alert. Prepare to cast off, and move to predetermined departure
|
|
point.
|
|
"Communications, -"
|
|
The Comm Officer interrupted the Admiral with a cleared
|
|
throat. "Sir, that last transmission was too garbled to be
|
|
clearly understood. I don't think we really need to log
|
|
reception. Will that be alright, sir?"
|
|
"Just fine, commander. Just fine."
|
|
Wesley felt the relief wash off of his crew in waves, felt it
|
|
seep reassuringly into himself. Low voices took to their tasks,
|
|
and the entire room came back to life.
|
|
"All ships report ready sir, waiting for your command."
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|
"Go!"
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|
William Riker sat nervously in his command chair. Data was
|
|
at navigation, Worf at weapons, and Wesley Crusher at the helm.
|
|
Geordi stood over his shoulder, waiting patiently for anything
|
|
that required his duties as Exec. Argyle was at the engineering
|
|
station.
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|
Familiar faces to comfort him, but he was on pins and
|
|
needles. They all were. Even Data was unnaturally quiet.
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|
A beep sounded from the Comm console. Geordi moved quickly
|
|
to it, pushing a button, and listened to his earpiece.
|
|
"Signal from flag, Captain. Red Alert, and prepare to cast
|
|
off."
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|
"Red Alert," ordered Riker. The bridge was bathed in
|
|
crimson. Mr. Crusher, make preparations to depart."
|
|
"Aye, aye, sir."
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|
"Geordi, report ready."
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|
"Yes, sir."
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|
Geordi spoke briefly, then listened again. "Go."
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|
"Mr. Crusher, cast off."
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|
"Aye, sir."
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|
"Data, lay in course for first rendezvous."
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|
"Course laid in, sir."
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|
"All moorings clear."
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|
"One-fourth impulse, helm."
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|
"Aye." Wes's hands moved over the board, and his eyes watched
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|
several displays. "We are clear of the station and free to
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|
navigate."
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|
"Data, engage."
|
|
The ship accelerated, then the viewscreen made the slightest
|
|
shift as warpspeed was achieved. In less than five minutes, all
|
|
of Odysseus's ships were at the rendezvous, and the Admiral
|
|
ordered them into formation.
|
|
"Mr. Crusher, make it so."
|
|
Hours of computer simulation had told the tactics officers
|
|
just where every ship should go to provide the best coverage and
|
|
interlocking fire. The three SCS's and six battleships were
|
|
spread as evenly as possible, each with an accompanying complement
|
|
of battlecruisers. The heavy cruisers formed a forward line, and
|
|
the smaller ships were scattered seemingly randomly. The carriers
|
|
were in the middle.
|
|
"We are now in formation on the flagship," announced Data.
|
|
"Argyle, power up the rip generator."
|
|
"Yes, sir."
|
|
The viewscreen shifted again, revealing the Admiral. "This
|
|
is Admiral Wesley to all ships. We are here on the threshold of
|
|
the unknown. This will probably be the most important mission of
|
|
many of your careers. You will not let me down. Good luck to you
|
|
all. Begin countdown...NOW."
|
|
"Thirty seconds," announced Data.
|
|
"Rip generator at full power and holding."
|
|
"Worf, load all torpedoes to maximum."
|
|
"Aye, sir."
|
|
"Twenty seconds."
|
|
"Torpedoes loaded. Preparing to divert power to phasers at
|
|
breakthrough."
|
|
"Good. Standby."
|
|
"Ten seconds."
|
|
"Data, bring shields to full power."
|
|
"Yes, sir. Shields at full.
|
|
"Five seconds."
|
|
"Argyle, go."
|
|
The engine pitch rose to a scream, as if the nacelles were
|
|
trying to rip themselves free of the hole.
|
|
"Three, two, one. Engage."
|
|
"Minimum magnification on the viewer."
|
|
Riker took in a view of the entire fleet from his position at
|
|
the top of the right flank. In the very center of the tremendous
|
|
formation, a small jet black orb appeared, crackling with white
|
|
lightning. It expanded, swallowing up the stars.
|
|
Crusher announced, "Reversing thrust to compensate."
|
|
The engine noise became even louder, and Riker felt a small
|
|
trembling in the deckplates. The void continued to grow.
|
|
Presently it expanded past the fringes of the fleet.
|
|
"Inform the flag that we now have clear passage, Geordi."
|
|
"Yes, sir," answered the temporary Exec and Comm Officer. He
|
|
sent the message, and then repeated the reply. "Ingram says to
|
|
standby for transition."
|
|
"Increasing reverse thrust." The bulkheads were vibrating
|
|
noticeably now.
|
|
"Engines standing by."
|
|
"Signal to fleet from Ingram. Complete transition in ten
|
|
seconds...MARK."
|
|
Sweat poured down Riker's forehead. The engines were now
|
|
shaking his teeth. He was glad that this ship had chairstraps,
|
|
else he would have fallen on the deck already.
|
|
At two seconds, the lightning exploded into one ferocious
|
|
instant of light, leaving an oval shaped swath of misplaced stars.
|
|
At one second, Wes put the engines to full power ahead.
|
|
Everyone squashed back into their seats before the acceleration
|
|
dampeners could compensate. At one-half second the ship bucked
|
|
incredibly, and Riker felt tunnel vision setting in. His body had
|
|
turned traitor, and he couldn't move a single muscle in his body.
|
|
Then at T minus zero seconds it really got bad. Will heard
|
|
someone grunt, as though hit in the belly, realised it was
|
|
himself, and wheezed. He could feel the blood coursing through
|
|
his temples, and the veins on his neck bulge. His neck ached, but
|
|
so did everything else. He thought he heard the engines shut off
|
|
automatically, and either lights went out, or he became
|
|
unconscious a moment before he thought he did.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Admiral Wesley croaked into his log recorder. "Task
|
|
Force...Log, Stardate 42594.2: The Ingram is through the
|
|
interphase." He paused to inhale very deeply. One of the
|
|
helmsmen, rousing himself, tended to his partner, who had slammed
|
|
his head into the console and was bleeding badly from a large
|
|
wound. "Will now check status, other ships."
|
|
The Science Officer coughed, and said, "No enemies, sir."
|
|
He sat upright, and waited until he felt in control of his
|
|
body again. There was a generally increased level of activity on
|
|
the bridge, and the injured helmsman had been removed by an
|
|
emergency medical team.
|
|
The Ingram's captain, Fanek, a dark-skinned Arab, barked a
|
|
few quick commands. "Damage report, casualties, now."
|
|
Wesley said to the Comm officer. "Get reports from the other
|
|
ships, and find out how we did."
|
|
In a few minutes, they had their answers. The flagship had
|
|
sustained no damage, and a few minor injuries on breakthrough. In
|
|
the entire fleet, one ship had been crippled coming through, a
|
|
Klingon frigate. The turbulence had sheared one engine nacelle
|
|
completely off, killing the engine room crew. Wesley ordered an
|
|
evacuation, and the ship was scuttled. The Vulture took her crew.
|
|
Otherwise, there were twenty odd fatalities, and no
|
|
significant damage.
|
|
However, the fleet had been tremendously scattered by local
|
|
tides in the transition, and it would take some time to
|
|
reestablish formation.
|
|
The fleet was on minimum power, so as not to broadcast its
|
|
position. Wesley went to the flagship's Science Officer.
|
|
"Commander, I want you to assemble a long-range sensor picture,
|
|
using microsecond bursts from the sensors, on the lowest power
|
|
setting. Just enough to figure out where we are. You have at
|
|
least two hours while the fleet reassembles."
|
|
"Aye, aye, Admiral."
|
|
Wesley and Fanek toured the ship, and after two hours,
|
|
returned to the bridge. According to the records extracted from
|
|
Enterprise's logs, they had arrived in very good position, in one
|
|
of the biggest empty pockets in Jhonkai space, but still near
|
|
inhabited systems. And the fact that it only took two hours at
|
|
impulse power to reorganise meant that the transition had gone a
|
|
lot better than Wesley had privately thought possible.
|
|
With everyone and everything back in order, the engine room
|
|
reported ready to manoeuvre at warp speed.
|
|
Of course, they were still at Red Alert, with weapons and
|
|
shields ready, so they set off as soon as possible.
|
|
"This is Admiral Wesley to all ships. Our first target has
|
|
been selected, and information is in your computers now. We will
|
|
proceeding at ultrawarp factor 1.5. That is conventional warp
|
|
factor 2." Analysis of Jhonkai technology, what little had been
|
|
recovered or captured, said that at that speed they were below a
|
|
dangerous chance of being detected. Wesley hoped so. "From now
|
|
on, all courses and speeds will be in conventional warp. Upon
|
|
arrival, we will analyse the situation, and then engage as
|
|
necessary. Flag out.
|
|
"Comm, transmit 'go' signal."
|
|
The Ingram accelerated. The ship had a tremendous saucer,
|
|
connecting to a secondary hull that looked not quite like a
|
|
pregnant guppy. But that pregnant guppy held thirty-six fighter
|
|
shuttles, and a dozen heavy attack shuttles. Each one, not very
|
|
significant, but all together, an impressive amount of firepower.
|
|
The huge transwarp nacelles glowed faintly blue, illuminating
|
|
the main hangar that sat astride their junction on the ship's
|
|
dorsal.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
At Warp 2, the target system was 110 minutes distant at a
|
|
little over half a light-day. They were moving 'blacked out',
|
|
meaning no active sensors or scanners, nor any major power using
|
|
systems shipboard which could be identified and tracked. Each
|
|
ship's computer realised when it had arrived and shut off the warp
|
|
engines accordingly, as no living being could be precise enough to
|
|
keep the formation at 2.4 million kilometres per second.
|
|
"All ships have reported in, sir. The formation is tight."
|
|
"Good, good. All right, Commander, take a look out there.
|
|
What do you see?"
|
|
The Science Officer peered into his scopes and monitors. "No
|
|
major collection of ships. G-2 primary, three planets. The
|
|
middle planet is Class M, and inhabited and industrialised. Two
|
|
moons, one of which is inhabited, the other may be a shipyard.
|
|
All together, maybe forty ships in system."
|
|
"Have the fleet maintain minimum profile. Comm, get me an
|
|
indirect beam to the planet, laser only."
|
|
"Aye, sir. Established."
|
|
"Good. Send the following in local language."
|
|
"Attention Jhonkai. This is Admiral Garrett Wesley of the
|
|
United Federation of Planets' Starfleet. You have invaded our
|
|
territory and we are here in response to your hostility. If you
|
|
surrender willingly, we will not attack. We are ready to
|
|
negotiate your needs. Otherwise, we will be forced to take
|
|
actions in protection of our government and our territory."
|
|
"Message sent."
|
|
"Good. I want the fleet to move at full impulse towards," he
|
|
consulted a navigation screen, "two-seven-five mark zero."
|
|
"Aye, sir."
|
|
"And let's all hope for a good response."
|
|
|
|
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|
|
CHAPTER XVII
|
|
|
|
|
|
"What's the count?"
|
|
"As far as I can tell from this distance, three hundred and
|
|
growing."
|
|
After the Admiral's signal, Jhonkai ships had appeared out of
|
|
almost nowhere, gathering at the other end of the system. Wesley
|
|
had said let them, because they wanted to achieve their objective
|
|
as soon as possible, in as few battles as possible. The Klingon
|
|
and Kzinti admirals agreed, because they wanted a good fight.
|
|
S'Tyrrg had agreed, but with some reservations.
|
|
Besides, the waiting made the diplomats happy, because it
|
|
gave the Jhonkai a chance to respond peacefully--while their
|
|
entire warfleet gathered.
|
|
Theoretically, the Federation had a major advantage, in that
|
|
the Jhonkai didn't seem to be able to fight at warpspeeds, while
|
|
Wesley's ships could. Realistically, though, no commander could
|
|
even hope to manoeuvre a fleet of this size in complex tactical
|
|
warp manoeuvres.
|
|
Theoretically, then, a few of the Federation's warp capable
|
|
ships would be able to run rings around the entire Jhonkai fleet.
|
|
But again, with this many hostile ships, it would just be too
|
|
crowded, and the ships would probably collide with something else
|
|
anyway.
|
|
So, the fleets were meeting at roughly equal status.
|
|
Another fifteen minuted passed. "Admiral, the rate of
|
|
appearance is dropping."
|
|
"How many now?"
|
|
"Three eighty, give or take."
|
|
"Let me know when five minutes passes without an arrival."
|
|
Wesley took a leisurely walk around the bridge, nodding
|
|
approval at the officers' screens and panels, offering a little
|
|
technical chit-chat along the way. He was just returning to his
|
|
chair when the Science Officer announced what he was waiting for.
|
|
"Sir, five minutes and no new vessels. Current count is four
|
|
hundred and two."
|
|
"Very well." Wesley looked to the officer seated immediately
|
|
to his right. As a captain needed his executive officer, a flag
|
|
officer was equally dependent on his Chief-of-Staff and Flag
|
|
Lieutenant. "Captain DiSanto."
|
|
The fragile looking woman responded immediately. "Yes, sir?"
|
|
"In your opinion, are our interests better served by an
|
|
offensive posture, or by waiting for the Jhonkai to make the first
|
|
move?"
|
|
DiSanto called up a tactical display on the flag console.
|
|
"Sir, as deployed, the Jhonkai forces are making very good use of
|
|
terrain, with this asteroid clump here," she pointed, "and the gas
|
|
giant's moon system over here. If we wait, they have nothing to
|
|
lose, and their position is just too good to throw away. I don't
|
|
think they will even make a first move."
|
|
"Good point. And if we go straight for the planet..."
|
|
"They will clearly outflank us."
|
|
"Comm, send the ultimatum once again. Tell them they have
|
|
fifteen minutes to respond, or we will attack."
|
|
To nobody's surprise, the Federation forces listened to
|
|
interplanetary static for a quarter of an hour. Admiral Wesley
|
|
reluctantly admitted that his last chance to avoid bloodshed was
|
|
gone, and he was out of options.
|
|
With a lump in his stomach, he barked orders. War orders.
|
|
"Flag to task force. All carriers deploy sub-units. Prepare
|
|
for engagement plan Alpha. Right flank will engage enemy forces
|
|
concentrated at one-one-one mark zero; all other ships will engage
|
|
the enemy near the asteroid field. Report Ready."
|
|
"Aye, aye, Admiral. All units report ready. Carrier
|
|
deployment underway."
|
|
"All units, ahead three-quarters impulse. Godspeed and good
|
|
luck."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The multi-layered formations of the Federation armada rolled
|
|
through the narrow asteroid belt. During the earlier, more
|
|
warlike history of the Federation, large fleet engagements had
|
|
occasionally been fought. They paled in comparison.
|
|
One-hundred and eighteen allied ships, among them forty three
|
|
capital ships, mingled in a giant deepspace 'furball' (a term used
|
|
by fighter-shuttle pilots to describe large complex dogfights) with
|
|
four-hundred and two Jhonkai warships, fielding some seventy
|
|
dreadnaughts of their own.
|
|
Dozens of shuttles boosted to warp speed, moving aft of TF
|
|
Odysseus, and circling far around to come up from behind the
|
|
asteroid defenders. With the range between fleets still at some
|
|
tens of thousands of kilometres, Admiral Wesley gave the order to
|
|
fire. Federation ships began to volley proximity fused photon
|
|
torpedoes, whose high yield warheads began to pound the giant
|
|
rocks into small free-floating debris.
|
|
Dozens of small drive flames winked on near the Kzinti ships,
|
|
guided missiles dancing in crazy, unpredictable patterns toward
|
|
the defenders. The Gorns, who had learned a thing or two from
|
|
decades of border skirmishes with Romulans, loosed over a dozen
|
|
plasma torpedoes.
|
|
Klingon disruptor fire washed across half hidden ships, then
|
|
half of their battlecruisers went to cloak. True, they would
|
|
reveal their position every time they fired, but with all the
|
|
sensory clutter, a few ships lost track of would be very nice for
|
|
the allies.
|
|
Jhonkai ships near the system's one gas giant boiled out in a
|
|
wedge shape, seeing a flanking opportunity. Suddenly, a mixed bag
|
|
of Klingon and Federation ships (which also carried cloaking
|
|
devices, though they were, until now, almost never used) appeared,
|
|
diving straight down on them from above the plane of battle. A
|
|
wave of attack shuttles completed the hammerblow from underneath.
|
|
The flankers, now themselves outflanked, fell to chaos.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Riker watched the tactical display with intent eyes.
|
|
Wesley Crusher was doing an outstanding job of combat
|
|
manoeuvring. Even Riker was getting a slight tinge of vertigo
|
|
from the top down orientation of the attack. Crusher apparently
|
|
didn't notice, staring at his screens instead of the viewer.
|
|
"Mega-phasers in range, sir."
|
|
"Right, Worf. Open fire, and target to cripple."
|
|
"Aye, sir."
|
|
Lightning blazed from the four huge pods on the ship's beam,
|
|
converging on the scattering Jhonkai scoutships. Blooms of light
|
|
were testimonial to Worf's accuracy.
|
|
The subspace chatter told Will that the fighters had achieved
|
|
surprise. The Jhonkai sensors were not good enough to target such
|
|
small ships, and the formation of the attack wing was wide enough
|
|
to make blanketing fire very inefficient.
|
|
"Damage?"
|
|
"Slight, sir. Shields are holding very well."
|
|
"Good, Mr. Argyle. Keep it up, everyone."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The forward engagement was beginning to overwhelm the allied
|
|
forces. Bearing the brunt of the Jhonkai heavy ships, Wesley's
|
|
forward units had fallen out of formation, and were being harried
|
|
by waves of the enemy scoutships. To reinforce the situation,
|
|
Admiral Wesley ordered the battleship Simonov forward with one of
|
|
the Gorn dreadnaughts and a handful of battle- and heavy cruisers.
|
|
Following a wave of max-powered photon torpedoes that
|
|
annihilated six Jhonkai vessels, the small group entered the fray
|
|
directly. Plasma torpedoes hounded the Jhonkai like hunting dogs,
|
|
dragging their quarry ferociously down.
|
|
Simonov's mega-phasers carved a swath through four
|
|
scoutships, two of them igniting in silent pyrotechnics. Then,
|
|
from every Jhonkai ship within range, hundreds of missiles
|
|
appeared, filling the black sky with menacing intent. The
|
|
Carnisaur fired phasers on rapid-pulse, swatting the incomings as
|
|
well as they could. The alliance ships filled space with
|
|
electronic jamming, all the while firing phasers and anti-
|
|
missiles.
|
|
Simonov's captain ordered his detatchment to close with the
|
|
Jhonkai, to get as close as possible. They lumbered forward,
|
|
swapping shots with each other, hurling deadly energy in
|
|
tremendous quantities. Simonov's primary shields failed as a
|
|
nearby Jhonkai battleship flashed into energy. Fire and death
|
|
punched through the primary hull, blowing the port side into a
|
|
jagged display of destruction.
|
|
Carnisaur dropped a plasma torpedo directly on top of a
|
|
nearby enemy. The Jhonkai unloaded its weapons all at once into
|
|
the shimmering ball of death, killing what turned out to be a
|
|
decoy. Then the real torpedo engulfed the now defenseless ship,
|
|
breaking it in two.
|
|
A wall of Avenger class frigates closed on the swarm of
|
|
missiles, trying to knock them down, but there were too many. The
|
|
heavily damaged Federation battleship struggled under the killing
|
|
rain, her captain watching as one nacelle blew up, taking a good
|
|
portion of the secondary hull with it. His ship was gutted as
|
|
forty missiles struck the now pitifully weak shields and hull.
|
|
A badly damaged Carnisaur limped away with a small protective
|
|
screen to the safety of the inner formation. Drifting apparently
|
|
without power, the Simonov floated through the reforming Jhonkai
|
|
ships.
|
|
And then the Federation fighters coming from behind salvoed
|
|
half a thousand missiles at the tightly packed Jhonnkai. Lost in
|
|
the midst of this new threat, the Simonov jettisoned a few dozen
|
|
lifeboats moments before she exploded with the fury of total
|
|
conversion. The Jhonkai battleships that didn't die outright
|
|
coupled lethally with the missile wave.
|
|
Their main defensive positions shattered, their flanking
|
|
force gutted, the Jhonkai began to spasmodically withdraw. The
|
|
alliance destroyers swept thoroughly through the Jhonkai
|
|
stragglers, making sure none of them were able to fight.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Admiral, they're out of effective range."
|
|
"Cease fire. All units reconverge. I want a fleet damage
|
|
assessment ASAP, and prepare units to recover all lost fighters
|
|
and lifeboats."
|
|
"Aye, aye, sir!"
|
|
The fleet pulled itself back into shape, as reports were
|
|
processed and compiled. Wesley looked it over. Not as bad as
|
|
he'd feared, but not as good as he'd hoped, either. Sixteen
|
|
allied ships were destroyed, along with about sixty percent of
|
|
their total crews. Several ships were crippled as well. For
|
|
that, they'd destroyed or knocked out of action over a hundred
|
|
Jhonkai warships. Percentage-wise, they were just barely behind
|
|
expectations.
|
|
"How about Simonov's crew?"
|
|
"Sir, the rescue shuttles picked up a hundred and twelve
|
|
survivors."
|
|
Out of over six hundred, Wesley mentally added. But given
|
|
the kind of punishment that the ship had taken, it was more than
|
|
he would have expected.
|
|
"Okay, split them up between Excelsior and Ascension. How
|
|
soon until we're ready to fight again?"
|
|
"About a half an hour."
|
|
"Hmmm. Alright, in five minutes, I want to send another
|
|
offer of terms to them. Again, fifteen minutes to respond.
|
|
"What's their deployment now?"
|
|
DiSanto answered, "They're gathering around the planet and
|
|
the moons. That second moon is definitley shipyards. And we've
|
|
identified a second group of ships here." The Flag Lieutenant
|
|
indicated the planet's trailing Trojan point. "No signals from
|
|
them whatsoever. We're lucky to have noticed them."
|
|
"What are they doing there?"
|
|
"Sir, they appear to be transports."
|
|
"Ah, I see. Yes, if I wanted to get out of a star system
|
|
quickly I suppose I would keep the transports very nearby.
|
|
They're not defended?"
|
|
"Nothing detectable, Admiral. They probably don't realise
|
|
that we know where they are. Passive defenses are likely,
|
|
however."
|
|
"Minefields?"
|
|
"Aye, sir."
|
|
One of Wesley's staff was the CFG, or Commander Fighter
|
|
Group, who was in charge of coordinating all of the fighter and
|
|
attack shuttles. "Captain Stant, I want you to organise a small
|
|
secondary mission. Two squadrons of fighters, and one fleet scout
|
|
of your choice. They're going to go and destroy those transports.
|
|
The scout will serve as a minesweeper and electronics warfare
|
|
platform. Understood?"
|
|
The Vulcan nodded gravely. "Aye, aye, sir."
|
|
"Excellent. Report to me in eighteen minutes."
|
|
Wheeling his stocky frame towards the turbolift, the admiral
|
|
was interrupted by the Comm Officer. "Admiral, Captain Picard is
|
|
on the line or you."
|
|
Garrett pushed a button on the armrest of the command chair.
|
|
"Admiral Wesley here. What is it Jean-Luc?" Although friendly,
|
|
his tone of voice belied his sense of urgency, something that
|
|
Picard completely expected.
|
|
"Admiral, has there been any sort of reaction to our
|
|
communiques?"
|
|
"None at all, Captain. Not even acknowledgement."
|
|
"Could it be that they're not even receiving our
|
|
transmissions? Is that possible?"
|
|
"Jean-Luc, I understand your position. You are here to
|
|
negotiate, and I have no doubt that you sincerely hope to be able
|
|
to end this conflict as quickly and cleanly as possible. But the
|
|
Enterprise-C's records clearly indicate communication with the
|
|
Jhonkai, and we are following Captain Romanov's methods precisely.
|
|
Also, our electronic warfare capabilities are more than suficient
|
|
to make ourselves be heard over any sort of jamming they may be
|
|
employing. They are just not interested yet, and we have to
|
|
convince them to be interested."
|
|
"Of course, admiral. I didn't mean to imply dissatisfaction
|
|
with your methods, only with results thus far."
|
|
"Yes, Jean-Luc, yes. If it would be preferable, I can have
|
|
all diplomatic communications with the Jhonkai handled by your
|
|
party from the Saipan. Is that acceptable?"
|
|
"Yes, very much, sir."
|
|
"Fine. Wesley out.
|
|
Admiral Wesley quickly contacted the captains of as many of
|
|
the ships as he could, trying his best to spread encouragement and
|
|
to keep morale from falling. True, the fleet had done well, but
|
|
they had lost a battleship. That could have a terrible effect on
|
|
the men.
|
|
As Commodore Mateo's visage faded from the screen, Garrett
|
|
noted Stant's lanky figure standing over him.
|
|
"Yes, Captain?"
|
|
"Final preparations subject to your approval, sir?" The
|
|
Vulcan indicated a viewscreen displaying the plans for attacking
|
|
the transports.
|
|
"Excellent, Captain Stant. Very impressive for such short
|
|
notice."
|
|
Wesley and his staff spent several more minutes finalising
|
|
tactics for the next attack. When they were all duly satisfied,
|
|
Wesley ordered the command frequency open.
|
|
"Flag to all units. Acknowledge receipt of revised battle
|
|
plan." Less than a minute later, he continued. "The Jhonkai
|
|
still show no sign of responding to our overtures for a cease to
|
|
hostilities. We have no choice but to continue the attack.
|
|
Captains, do not allow yourself to be distraced by the yards or
|
|
support ships. We must fight the Jhonkai warfleet until the
|
|
either fallback or offer no further resistance. Then we can
|
|
concentrate on the logistical support.
|
|
"Any questions?"
|
|
There were none.
|
|
"Very well. Commence engagement plan Beta-two, and good
|
|
luck. All units ahead, one-half impulse power."
|
|
Ingram surged smoothly forward. "Here we go again."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Captain Kjell warily watched the enemy ships sitting unmoving
|
|
around their two moons while his small group moved slowly towards
|
|
the transports. Sentinel had been chosen to escort the fighter
|
|
squadrons, one Klingon and one Kzinti.
|
|
Kevar's eyes had practically melted onto his console, so
|
|
intently was he scanning for the first signs of a minefield. The
|
|
Tactical officer was holding back the fighters for the moment,
|
|
waiting until they could attack in safety.
|
|
The main body of the fleet was waiting just inside of maximum
|
|
range of the Federation photon torpedoes, which was quite large
|
|
indeed. They were sniping from safe distance, waiting to see how
|
|
the Jhonkai would react to Kjell's attack on their transports. So
|
|
far, they had made no move. Kjell couldn't understand why; they
|
|
certainly had almost nothing in the way of terrain advantage now.
|
|
The cowards should be attacking to defend their homeland.
|
|
Obviously the cowering fool Jhonkai had no insights into the way
|
|
of a true warrior.
|
|
Kevar's voice barked out, "Full stop, now!"
|
|
Kjell watched with interest as the helmsman hurriedly obeyed.
|
|
"What is it, Kevar?"
|
|
"Definitely a minefield, sir."
|
|
"Any active sensors."
|
|
"Six, equally covering a sphere. Nearest is one-nine-seven,
|
|
mark two-two."
|
|
"Analysis."
|
|
"Deadman mines, tracking the rest of the field."
|
|
"Then we must take them out first."
|
|
"Aye, sir."
|
|
Kjell switched the officer of his attention. "Weapons! Time
|
|
on target missile salvo, two drones on each of those mines.
|
|
Understood?"
|
|
"Clearly, sir." The weapons officer operated his console
|
|
quickly and efficiently. "Pattern set, captain."
|
|
"Open fire!"
|
|
A dozen missiles came off of two launch racks aft, near the
|
|
impulse drive. The first ones arced around the minefield to hit
|
|
the deadman sensors away from Sentinel. In perfect unison, six
|
|
explosions dotted the edges of the field.
|
|
"Scan?" inquired Kjell.
|
|
Kevar responded, "No active emissions."
|
|
"Good, good." The captain didn't bother to remind Kevar that
|
|
if he had missed even one deadman mine, the entire minefield might
|
|
have been set off at once. He didn't have to. The sensor tech
|
|
was already sweating.
|
|
"Launch the shuttles, and divert power to the tractor beams."
|
|
Sentinel moved forward, beginning the tedious and dangerous
|
|
work of disabling individual mines. As her tractor beams tossed
|
|
some mines out of the way, a triplet of shuttles mounting small
|
|
defensive phasers knocked many more out of commission.
|
|
"Sensors?"
|
|
"About halfway through the field, captain," reported Kevar.
|
|
"Maintain."
|
|
Suddenly, Kevar sat bolt upright. "Captain! Lifeform
|
|
readings, and power coming up in one of those ships!"
|
|
Kjell growled low in his throat. "Disruptors! Target, and
|
|
fire."
|
|
Kjell knew what Kevar's report meant. All any living person
|
|
needed to do to wreck a minesweeper was to throw one switch, order
|
|
one computer command. And he couldn't do anything about it,
|
|
except to kill any Jhonkai before they got the chance to do so.
|
|
Even as the pale green beams licked at the new power
|
|
readings, causing their target to bubble away into slag and
|
|
vapour, Kevar spoke again. "Active sensors all around us. We're
|
|
being targetted."
|
|
And then Kjell, the mighty Klingon warrior, panicked. He
|
|
should have ordered full stop and blackout. He could have
|
|
clocked, or launched decoys. Or any number of things. Anything
|
|
but move.
|
|
"Full reverse, now!" Kevar heard the tinge of hysteria in
|
|
his voice.
|
|
Energy blossomed all over the Sentinel. Some explosions,
|
|
some phaser fire, or missile launches. A half-dozen different
|
|
effects, in fact, none of which were good. The impulse
|
|
engineering section was ripped indelicately from Sentinel's spine.
|
|
A burst of explosive force ripped the forward boom from the rest
|
|
of the ship, and the increase in motion triggered even more mines.
|
|
Watching from a safe distance, the Kzinti wing leader,
|
|
k'Trrek, saw the scout engulfed in flame and debris. As the nova
|
|
bright light dimmed, he saw what was left of the command boom
|
|
spiral crazily away from the center, in the general direction of
|
|
the fleet.
|
|
k'Trrek thumbed his radio. "Leader to all fighters. The
|
|
minefield is down. Attack. Attack and avenge! Attaaaack!" The
|
|
last word turned into a shrill scream of rage as k'Trrek jammed
|
|
his throttle to full. Two dozen heavily armed shuttles charged
|
|
down through a chaos of twisted and still burning debris.
|
|
Three minutes later, twenty-one fighters reformed to return
|
|
to the fleet, leaving behind no piece of metal bigger than a
|
|
deckplate. The Jhonkai transports had been scrapped, and every
|
|
being who might have been aboard killed to a man.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
As soon as Sentinel disappeared into that hellish ball of
|
|
energy, Wesley spoke to his fleet. "All ahead full. All units,
|
|
engage now!"
|
|
Even as they leapt forward, the entire Jhonkai fleet began to
|
|
volley missiles. Every scout could launch six at a time, every
|
|
Jhonkai battleship eighteen. Space was quickly filled with small,
|
|
deadly dots. The massed firepower under Wesley's command took to
|
|
their defense with a vengeance. Hundreds of missiles were
|
|
destroyed or electronically deflected, leaving less than a hundred
|
|
and fifty to arrive in the midst of the fleet.
|
|
Those ships which mounted them fired high-density kinetic
|
|
kill weapons at close range detonating a third of those remaining.
|
|
Had their tagets been spread out, the missiles could not have
|
|
seriously harmed the fleet. But the Jhonkai were getting smarter.
|
|
Those missiles which got throuh were all aimed at two ships, the
|
|
Federation heavy carrier Saratoga, and the Klingon D-7V Peregrine.
|
|
Saratoga's fighters emptied their own missile racks to defend
|
|
their mothership, and Saratoga took only minor structural and
|
|
heavy shield damage.
|
|
Unfortunately, Peregrine's fighters were with the Sentinel,
|
|
and she had no extra defense. After some fifty missile hits,
|
|
Peregrine, and her four frigate escort, ceased to be.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Damn!" Admiral Wesley swore emphatically as he watched the
|
|
Peregrine's death. Between the five ships, over one-thousand
|
|
crewmen had just been lost. "All units, engage closely. Full
|
|
impulse ahead, now."
|
|
The image on the forward viewer sped by even faster as the
|
|
armada gained speed. The long-range photons and disruptors began
|
|
to be answered by the Jhonkai heavy weapons. They weren't
|
|
accurate, but they were powerful. If any one thing was
|
|
maintaining the allies' advantage, it was electronic warfare. The
|
|
Jhonkai ships were powerful, but crude.
|
|
"Captain Kant, what's the status on the fighter group?"
|
|
"Sir, all fighter shuttles are formed up behind the main
|
|
fleet, with the heavy attack shuttles trailing them. They're
|
|
prepared to follow up any major openings made by our assault."
|
|
"Good." Fighters had once been labelled 'attrition units'.
|
|
Admiral Wesley was not about to use them in a direct frontal
|
|
attack just to support that moniker. After all, this mission was
|
|
going to, and had already, cost enough in blood to just throw away
|
|
those pilots.
|
|
The allied fleet pressed on, the larger ships weapons
|
|
pounding Jhonkai units, while frigates and destroyers laced
|
|
defensive fire in all directions. On the offensive were also the
|
|
remaining fifteen Federation Avenger class heavy frigates,
|
|
aggressively designed ships mounting two phaser-cannon pods of
|
|
their own. One of the earlier ships in that class, NCC-1864
|
|
Reliant, had achieved infamy with those weapons.
|
|
And the second battle against the Jhonkai raged on.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
From cwynne@liberty.uc.wlu.edu Tue Jan 12 15:54:20 1993
|
|
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|
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|
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|
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From: "Colin J. Wynne" <cwynne@liberty.uc.wlu.edu>
|
|
To: asc <jfy@cis.ksu.edu>
|
|
Subject: GhostsFromThePast.7
|
|
Date: Tue, 12 Jan 1993 16:53:50 +0500 (EST)
|
|
|
|
This story is property of:
|
|
Colin J. Wynne
|
|
P.O. Box 4661
|
|
Lexington, VA 24450
|
|
(703) 464-4030
|
|
cwynne@liberty.uc.wlu.edu
|
|
|
|
Permission is given to distribute this story freely as long as this header
|
|
is included with all files/hardcopies/electronic postings.
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--------------------------------------------------------------------------
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"Ghosts from the Past," Ch. 18 through Ch.19, and Epilogue:
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-----------------------------------------------------------
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CHAPTER XVIII
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"Captain Picard?"
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"Admiral, they still refuse to answer any communications.
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They are being irrationally stubborn, and they are suffering
|
|
terribly for it."
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|
"You and I both know that, Jean-Luc, but neither of us has
|
|
been able to convince them of that. I'm still trying."
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"As am I, sir."
|
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"Flag out." Wesley took the liberty of burying his face in
|
|
his hands for a few moments. With a heavy sigh, he faced reality
|
|
once more. DiSanto stood nearby, glancing over a report that he
|
|
didn't want to have to look at.
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"Admiral?"
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"Yes, yes." Wesley looked at the display screen. From the
|
|
original one-hundred and eighteen ships, he had left at his
|
|
command all three space control ships, three carriers (with the
|
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loss of Peregrine), four battleships, eighteen battlecruisers,
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fourteen heavy cruisers, and eight destroyers and frigates. He
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had made a decision to leave behind all those ships which were
|
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only crippled: Carnisaur, five battlecruisers, ten heavy cruisers,
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and twelve smaller ships. All in all, forty ships completely
|
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destroyed. And they had given themselves to neutralise almost ten
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time that number of Jhonkai.
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Even Ingram was damaged. A fiercely concentrated volley had
|
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overloaded shields and hulled the secondary landing bay.
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Fortunately, no shuttles were being refueled or armed at the
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|
time.
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The mission needed to be accomplished, and quickly. What to
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do? "Flag to all ships, standby for new orders."
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"Captain DiSanto, we know the location of the Jhonkai home-
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planet, do we not?"
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"Yes, sir. Information from Enterprise's logs, along with
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our own sensor scans, indicate which system with an accuracy of
|
|
about eighty-five percent."
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"How far is it?"
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"Just over a parsec, sir. Under seven hours at maximum
|
|
effective speed."
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Ingram's communications officer announced, "Fleet standing
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by, Admiral."
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"Thank you.
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"Ladies and gentlemen, we need to take decisive action
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immediately. What I propose is this. The main body of the fleet
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is going to the Jhonkai homeworld to increase the pressure. The
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secondary Task Force"--he referred to the crippled ships--"will
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|
remain behind to mop up logistics and shipyards in this system.
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"Comments?"
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It was Captain Fanek who spoke up first. "Sir, won't that be
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an open invitation for them to attack the damaged ships? They
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won't be able to defend themselves."
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"A possibility. But we've destroyed almost eighty percent of
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what they threw at us, and the rest turned tail and ran. Now,
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we're going after their home planet. I think that their
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priorities will not include TF 2. We've got to be hurting them at
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least that much."
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Fanek admitted grudging agreement. Their were a few more
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|
specific questions, but that was about it.
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"Fine. We'll warp into the target system, and move toward
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the planet at one-half impulse to give them time to respond.
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Again, we need to let them mass, so we only have to fight one
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battle, instead of several dozen.
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"All units of TF 1, prepare for warpspeed in ten minutes.
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Flag out."
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TF Odysseus, at least what was left of it, had dropped out of
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warp near the edge of the Jhonkai home star system. At one-half
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impulse, they would be within bombardment range in about thirty
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|
minutes. A planetary bombardment order would probably result in
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the quick and quiet retirement of Admiral Garrett Wesley, thrice
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awarded the Federation Superior Service Medal, and recipient of
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|
the Starfleet Citation for Bravery. If he attacked the Jhonkai
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homeworld, he would be casting aside everything that represented
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the high moral pedestal on which the Federation liked to pride
|
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itself.
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And if he, Admiral Wesley, decided that that was the only way
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to prevent the Jhonkai from overrunning the Federation, he would
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do it. And, technically, he would be within his orders, assuming
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of course, that he didn't get court-martialled outright for
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ignoring the recall order.
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Starfleet had been in a state of high anxiety when they
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drafted the orders for Odysseus, and so had allowed Wesley more
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|
options than would normally be expected, even for a commander
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|
under wartime engagement rules. His two mission goals were to
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protect the Federation, and secondly to protect the Task Force,
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|
and towards those ends, he had allowed given 'broad discretionary
|
|
measures'. That very technical term meant that Wesley could
|
|
legally order anything which was not expressly prohibited
|
|
elsewhere in the orders. And planetary bombardments were not
|
|
expressly prohibited.
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|
That didn't mean that he would give such an order lightly, by
|
|
any means.
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"Admiral, Jhonkai forces are moving to intercept us."
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"Source, numbers?"
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"Looks like about eighty ships, half of them are
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dreadnaughts. And they're coming from all around us, sir."
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"Eighty, that's it?" Wesley was frankly shocked.
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"Aye, sir."
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"If that's the best they can mount, why in hell are they
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still fighting at all, much less taking an offensive posture?
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"Comm, get me the other admirals immediately."
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|
In moments, the main screen split to reveal the Klingon,
|
|
Kzinti and Gorn commanders. Wesley filled them in, and posed the
|
|
same question he had just asked himself out loud.
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|
Krond had an answer at once. "Is it unclear to you, Wesley?
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They know they are doomed. They wish to die gloriously in
|
|
battle!"
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"Are you saying that our counter-invasion has done too well,
|
|
and that they're just folding up?"
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|
S'Tyrrg snorted. "I find that hard to believe."
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"I agree." Wesley nodded emphatically. "Captain Picard has
|
|
been broadcasting our terms to them almost constantly. They know
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|
we only want them to cease their invasion."
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|
Silence dominated for several long seconds. Suddenly,
|
|
k'Rzaal hissed angrily. "They have a trick! This pitiful attack
|
|
is only to delay us. What else makes sense?"
|
|
The Klingon gestured his dismissal of k'Rzaal's thought.
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|
S'Tyrrg said, "Possible, but what-"
|
|
Wesley cut the Gorn off abruptly, as he yelled a single word.
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"Reinforcements!"
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|
"What?" demanded Krond.
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|
"They must be recalling the invasion force--to deal with us."
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S'Tyrrg's hide turned slightly ashen. "That was over one
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thousand of their heavy ships."
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Wesley agreed, looking pale himself. "We'll be slaughtered.
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"Flag to all units. Urgent! Go to full impulse. Task Force
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|
Mateo is to orbit the planet, and prepare for planetary assault.
|
|
All other units must screen the battlecruisers. All units
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|
acknowledge."
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|
They did so.
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The allied fleet hastily changed formation. The four
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battlecruisers Enterprise, Groombridge, Caesar Augustus, and Lugal
|
|
Zaggisi pulled out in front, escorted by Excelsior, Reaver,
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|
Commodore Mateo's Deneva, and the dreadnaught Ascension. The
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|
remainder of the fleet formed into a hemisphere behind, the
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|
smaller ships surrounding the remaining carriers, SCS's and
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|
battleships; the whole formation looked like a solid parabolic
|
|
dish, with the smaller group pointing forward like an antenna.
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|
Accelerating towards the Jhonkai homeworld, Riker felt a bead
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|
of sweat trickling across his brow. There was a significant
|
|
possibility that he and his four ship contingent would attack the
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|
planet directly. It had, of course, been hoped that that
|
|
particular end could be avoided, but circumstances were working
|
|
against all of the Federation's hopes.
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|
"Captain," announced Data. "Massive energy reading, zero
|
|
zero zero mark four five, range approximately ninety million
|
|
kilometres."
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|
"What's the pattern, Data?"
|
|
"Rip zone, sir."
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|
"Damn. Inform the Admiral."
|
|
Even as the message was being sent, space split in twain,
|
|
disgorging tremendous quantities of energy. Gravitational waves
|
|
rippled out from it, shaking the Federation ships like toy boats
|
|
in a child's bath. Through the storm of gravity and radiation,
|
|
the battlecruiser's sensors picked out a few shapes appearing.
|
|
Then more; dozens; scores; and still more.
|
|
Riker's jaw gaped. "Data, how..."
|
|
"Six hundred forty-five Jhonkai dreadnaughts, sir."
|
|
Suddenly Admiral Wesley's voice burst over the fleet channel.
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|
"TF Mateo, remain on course. All other units, close and engage
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|
the new hostiles. Repeat, close and engage. Flag out."
|
|
"Damn! They're going to buy time for us, with the rest of the
|
|
fleet!" Riker was taken aback.
|
|
Worf's bass rumble brought Riker back to the immediate.
|
|
"Deneva advises a new enemy force approaching from behind the
|
|
planet. Battleships are moving to engage."
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|
"Worf, keep an eye on that new force. Wes, stay tight with
|
|
the squadron.
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|
Deborah Mateo swore inwardly at the tactical display facing
|
|
her. The original eighty ships were moving to support the
|
|
reinforcements from Federation space, which was good for her, but
|
|
there were those fifteen other ships...
|
|
The Jhonkai obviously still underestimated Federation
|
|
abilities. They hadn't expected Mateo to see the small squadron
|
|
coming around the planet with all of the subspace clutter caused
|
|
by the huge rip. But her crew had seen them, seen the three
|
|
battleships with their dozen escorts. But these particular three
|
|
battleships didn't match the rest of the Jhonkai heavy units, and
|
|
she didn't know why. All she did know was that they had obscenely
|
|
large power curves.
|
|
And that small group was heading directly to intercept her.
|
|
"Computer, prioritise targets in Threat Group One. Select
|
|
all scout size targets." A second later, threat numbers appeared
|
|
on the tactical display. "This is Mateo to task force. Begin
|
|
long-range fire on selected targets. Be prepared for warp speed."
|
|
Photon torpedoes and disruptors lashed out, all eight ships
|
|
against one of the scouts. Moments later, it veered off and fell
|
|
out of position. Mateo's ships shifted fire to the next target.
|
|
The Jhonkai were getting closer and closer. High-mag visual
|
|
showed each of the heavy ships to have a huge open section at
|
|
their bow. Maybe they were special rip-generators, and now they
|
|
were being forced into battle.
|
|
That impression died almost as quickly as the Deneva.
|
|
Mateo's force had just disabled a fourth scoutship when the
|
|
heavens lit like a star gone nova. The afterimage in Deborah's
|
|
eyes recorded a beam of energy the size of a house bursting from
|
|
the bow opening on the lead battleship.
|
|
Commodore Mateo's eyes widened in horror. The Romulans had
|
|
once experimented with a weapon called a mauler. Basically, they
|
|
built a ship around a huge energy weapon which could draw directly
|
|
on all ship's power. It was a crude weapon, to be sure, and not
|
|
accurate at long ranges, but it was powerful.
|
|
"All ships! Scatter and take evasive, now!"
|
|
The second bolt hit Deneva, barely. After blowing through
|
|
three layers of shields as though they weren't there, it
|
|
vapourised the hangar bay along with the aft third of the ship,
|
|
and one end of the closed anti-matter intermix feed.
|
|
As most of her bridge crew picked themselves up off of the
|
|
floor, Deborah noticed that her ship was drifting, and in
|
|
freefall.
|
|
The Engineer's voice, as he spoke, was filled with fear.
|
|
"Commodore, containment field integrity failing. We have about
|
|
two minutes." Mateo added the conclusion: until the ship
|
|
explodes.
|
|
"Not enough time for lifeboats." An icy calm pervaded her
|
|
system as Commodore Deborah Mateo issued her last order.
|
|
"Weapons, lock on the lead mauler."
|
|
"Aye, sir. Locked."
|
|
"Helm, slave the computer pilot to weapons lock." About
|
|
seventy seconds. Would it be enough?
|
|
The helmsman was puzzled. "Sir?"
|
|
"Do it, please."
|
|
"Yes, sir."
|
|
Mateo floated forward to the helm station. The helmsman
|
|
stepped aside, so didn't notice her set speed for maximum warp.
|
|
"I've enjoyed serving with all of you," she said simply, and
|
|
engaged the warp drive.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Torrents of energy washed across the Enterprise's viewscreen.
|
|
Riker thought that the ship was being fired upon, and that he was
|
|
going to die. He thought himself remarkably detached from that
|
|
thought, sort of like the feeling one has on the verge of
|
|
fainting.
|
|
Then the light faded, and half of the enemy formation was
|
|
simply gone. He blinked and looked again. Two maulers and two
|
|
scout ships were all that he saw.
|
|
"Data, what happened? Did the middle ship self-destruct?"
|
|
"Scanning," replied the android. "Sensors show strong warp
|
|
ionisation trail, originating at the Deneva's last position.
|
|
Explosion too large for anti-matter explosion. I conclude a high
|
|
warp-velocity collision."
|
|
Will knew that the Deneva had been badly damaged, but...
|
|
Not knowing that their artificial gravity had failed, he assumed
|
|
that all hands had been lost in the collision. He was wrong.
|
|
Without acceleration dampeners, they had all died the moment
|
|
the engines had engaged with acceleration stronger than one
|
|
hundred earth gravities.
|
|
"Captain." Data was still monitoring the sensors. "The
|
|
remaining maulers are entering optimal range."
|
|
Riker nodded. The squadron commanders, having just figured
|
|
out the commodore's fate, were radioing back to the Admiral for
|
|
instructions. Somebody needed to take charge, and quickly, before
|
|
the other two maulers ripped them to shreds. As if to accentuate
|
|
the point, the two ships fired on Reaver. One shot landed,
|
|
hulling her neatly amidships.
|
|
Will glanced at the target designations on the tactical
|
|
screens. "Data, get me a channel to the squadron."
|
|
"Open, sir."
|
|
"TF Mateo, all units engage Target Delta-One. Enterprise
|
|
will engage other. Acknowledge to Enterprise."
|
|
Within moments, Data reported that they had. He also said,
|
|
"Sir, we're being targeted."
|
|
"Mr. Crusher, tactical warp to within fifty kilometres of
|
|
target, now!"
|
|
"Fif-"
|
|
"Now! Worf, prepare to fire."
|
|
In Starfleet Tactics classes, it was taught that when closing
|
|
with an enemy at warp speeds, a ship would arrive before the light
|
|
image from its previous position. Thus, what the target's sensors
|
|
saw was that a ship at point A would instantaneously appear at
|
|
point B, very nearby, whose light track would then trace back to
|
|
the original position. And a battle computer would take precious
|
|
seconds deciphering the strange data. One Starfleet captain had
|
|
made very good use of this tactic, and it had since been named
|
|
after him.
|
|
It was called the Picard manoeuvre.
|
|
From forty kilometres away, four phaser cannon destroyed the
|
|
maulers shields. Individual phasers from the battlecruiser's
|
|
saucer raked back and forth across the Jhonkai vessel. A mere
|
|
instant later, a narrow spread of half a dozen photon torpedoes
|
|
tracked down the bore of the mauler weapon itself, even as the
|
|
ship was firing at the Enterprise's previous position.
|
|
Not oblivious to the likely results of his tactic, Riker
|
|
already had his ship warping away as the Jhonkai mauler converted
|
|
itself into hundreds of gigatons of energy.
|
|
Enterprise dropped out of warp several thousand kilometres
|
|
away, in time to see Excelsior and Lugal deliver the coup de grace
|
|
to the remaining mauler.
|
|
They now had a clear channel to the planet. "Lugal, Caesar,
|
|
Groombridge, form up on Enterprise. Excelsior and Ascension
|
|
return to main fleet. Reaver, clear the area." Riker waited to
|
|
make sure his orders were carried out, then turned to Wes at the
|
|
helm.
|
|
"Good piloting, Mr. Crusher. Now, get us around that planet.
|
|
"Data, how's the Admiral doing?"
|
|
Data reviewed the battle data he had been receiving on the
|
|
rest of the fleet. "Admiral Wesley's initial close destroyed or
|
|
crippled twenty-nine Jhonkai units before they recovered from the
|
|
rip transition, without any significant damage to his own ships.
|
|
Since then, he has kept the engagement range open. The smaller
|
|
units have flanked the Jhonkai and are darting in and out at low
|
|
warp speeds. Fighters have entered the Jhonkai formation, and are
|
|
attacking from within to maintain confusion, but have taken almost
|
|
thirty percent casualties. Also, warp capable shuttles have been
|
|
laying mines through the Jhonkai ranks."
|
|
"Data, how much longer can they keep it up?"
|
|
"Sir, I estimate that they will be completely destroyed in
|
|
under thirty minutes. All ships have taken some damage, and after
|
|
several of the space control ships and battleships are destroyed,
|
|
the situation will quickly become untenable."
|
|
Riker mused. "Get me the Admiral."
|
|
After almost forty seconds, Riker heard a curt, "Flag here."
|
|
"Admiral, this is Riker on Enterprise."
|
|
There was the sound of an explosion, a pause, and then, "Go
|
|
ahead."
|
|
"Sir, we'll be in planetary range in under five minutes.
|
|
Withdraw your forces, and fight a retrograde action. You got us
|
|
the time we needed, now protect yourselves."
|
|
The answer came immediately; the relief in the Admiral's
|
|
voice was tangible. "About time, Will. We thought you had
|
|
forgotten all about us. Flag out."
|
|
Suddenly, a thought occurred to Will. "Data, the Saipan?"
|
|
"Lightly damaged, sir. No other reports."
|
|
"Flag to all units. Commence a fighting retrograde
|
|
withdrawal away from the planet, repeat away from the planet.
|
|
Maintain best formation possible."
|
|
Riker looked at his screens. "Data, scan the planet. Target
|
|
industrial centers and population centers. Also, orbital and
|
|
satellite industry and defenses."
|
|
The seconds passed slowly. Riker's squadron removed all
|
|
orbital defenses with long range photon torpedoes before they ever
|
|
had a chance to open fire. Also, each ship, now stretched out in
|
|
line abreast, launched an ESS, an electronic ship simulator,
|
|
moving only marginally faster than the speed of light, to detonate
|
|
mines in front of them. This was good, because almost one hundred
|
|
mines were set off that way.
|
|
Several orbitting factories were destroyed out of hand, as
|
|
they were uninhabited. All the while, Enterprise beamed a demand
|
|
for surrender.
|
|
As soon as the main fleet started to retreat, the Jhonkai
|
|
warships tried to return to the planet. But the Admiral was still
|
|
doing an excellent job, and he made it abundantly clear to them
|
|
that he would reduce the Jhonkai to scrap metal if they turned
|
|
their backs on him. They didn't appear to be able to retrograde.
|
|
Garrett danced a fine line between allowing the Jhonkai a chance
|
|
to return to their homeworld and scatter Riker's atoms to space,
|
|
and getting his own ships butchered in a close combat.
|
|
"Ground based missiles and lasers firing, sir," reported
|
|
Worf.
|
|
"Take them out, Lieutenant."
|
|
At that moment, Riker noticed Geordi standing over him.
|
|
"Yes?" prompted Will.
|
|
"Damage report, Captain. We're doing pretty well. A couple
|
|
of burn throughs in the lower decks. Mostly cargo and crew
|
|
quarters. Caesar took a glancing blow from one of the maulers.
|
|
The port side of her saucer is pretty mangled, but she can still
|
|
fight. The other two are a little worse off than us, but not
|
|
much."
|
|
"Good. We're better off than I thought possible. Any
|
|
response from the planet?"
|
|
Geordi frowned. "Just the missiles, sir."
|
|
"Alright, damnit. I'm getting tired of this. Have all four
|
|
ships deploy shuttles. I want low passes over their major
|
|
population centres, five hundred metres or less. I want those
|
|
people to read the Fed logo on the wings. Have the four
|
|
battlecruisers spaced out, one polar orbit, one equatorial, two in
|
|
between. Any defense installations are to be destroyed, as
|
|
precisely as possible. Empty industrial locations likewise. If
|
|
they have people in them, then phasers on heavy stun, wide
|
|
dispersion."
|
|
Geordi moved to a console and started issuing orders. He
|
|
turned around and asked, "Shuttles to be armed, Captain Riker?"
|
|
"Hmmm. Air-to-air missile load. How soon can they
|
|
launch?"
|
|
"Less than five minutes, sir."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Coxswain Lieutenant (JG) Adalbert Schneider piloted his
|
|
shuttle at mach four over the scurrying civilians below. Intel
|
|
from First Officer LaForge, up on the bridge, said he was over the
|
|
biggest population center on the planet. He smiled and watched
|
|
the weird triply symmetric aliens hurry off the streets.
|
|
Ensign Jones, in the second seat, heard the warning beeper,
|
|
and stared at his screens.
|
|
"Bert, atmospheric fighter closing from, uh, one four four."
|
|
"I got him." The sleek black shape locked onto the shuttle
|
|
and fired three missiles from an internal weapons bay.
|
|
"Hang on!" Schneider popped three chaff charges while Jones
|
|
cranked the jammer to max. The throttle was cracked wide open,
|
|
and as the pilot pulled back the stick the shuttle accelerated
|
|
into a steep climb.
|
|
The three missiles exploded into the chaff, but the Jhonkai
|
|
pilot matched the climb. Schneider figured he had some kind of
|
|
cannon on that craft, and he didn't want to find out anymore about
|
|
it.
|
|
The two craft jinked back and forth in a twisting scissors
|
|
pattern, and the civvies came back into the street. After all,
|
|
when was the last time they saw a high-speed dogfight over their
|
|
fair city?
|
|
"Jonesie, how's his infrared?"
|
|
"Pretty cool, Bert. Ain't gonna get a target out of him that
|
|
way."
|
|
"Alright." He jammed the stick to port and reversed the
|
|
pursuit again. At this rate, they'd run out of fuel before either
|
|
got a decent shot. "Can you get me a passive lock-on with the aft
|
|
missiles? I don't want to go active and spook him."
|
|
"Yeah. Can you get a good shot?"
|
|
Schneider laughed. "You just leave that to me."
|
|
Schneider throttled forward slightly and turned starboard
|
|
again. The bandit was on his high six, just about to get a really
|
|
juicy shot, when the lieutenant rolled skyward into a barrel
|
|
roll. Schneider deliberately overthrottled coming out of the
|
|
turn. The Jhonkai, who had braked on vertical thrust, cruised
|
|
around to the shuttle's level six. Schneider grinned wide.
|
|
The launch toggle on his stick was pulled once, twice.
|
|
From racks in the belly of the shuttle two missiles launched
|
|
straight back, fireballing its pursuer. Burning wreckage crashed
|
|
about the city.
|
|
"You know," said Schneider, "that was too ea-"
|
|
"Jesus Christ! Air defense stuff, everywhere!"
|
|
Warning receivers blared around the cockpit. One smoke trail
|
|
appeared right in front of them. Schneider instinctively pulled
|
|
high right. As he crested the turn into an inverted dive, he
|
|
caught puffs of several more missile launches. He hadn't needed
|
|
to tell Jones to jam anything and everything.
|
|
On the ground, there was a large, impressive looking
|
|
building, surrounded by defensive positions. The layout of the
|
|
roads and buildings around it told Schneider that that structure
|
|
was one of two things: the Jhonkai capital or their military
|
|
headquarters. Either way, that had to get back to Captain Riker.
|
|
He noticed all that in the three seconds before his shuttle
|
|
rolled level and went supersonic down a cavernous urban valley.
|
|
The last pursuing missiles detonated into nearby buildings, and he
|
|
went ballistic to get back to the Enterprise.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
LaForge felt frustrated, and rightly so. "They haven't done
|
|
anything yet, Captain. The main fleet is still engaging, and they
|
|
still aren't responding to us."
|
|
Riker stalked back to the command chair, and contacted the
|
|
squadron. "Prepare for full-scale bombardment in ten minutes."
|
|
He clicked off the channel and sat down heavily.
|
|
"Hangar bay to Bridge."
|
|
Geordi activated an intercom. "Bridge, LaForge here."
|
|
"Sir, this is Bosun Grel," announced a brusque Tellarite
|
|
voice. "I've got some good intelligence from Shuttle Four."
|
|
Minutes later, Data narrowed the ships scanning radius and
|
|
concluded that message traffic in and out of the building
|
|
Schneider had found definitely indicated a planetary command
|
|
centre.
|
|
"Mr. Crusher," asked Riker, "how long until we orbit over
|
|
that sight?"
|
|
"Eight minutes, Captain."
|
|
"Geordi, have the squadron standby on bombardment."
|
|
"Aye, sir."
|
|
"Wes, you and Mr. Data have exactly four and a half minutes
|
|
to come up with the profile for an atmospheric dive to take us one
|
|
kilometre over that city. We will hold position there for as long
|
|
as possible. Worf, I want blanketing phaser fire on heavy stun
|
|
all around, but not on, that building." Riker paused to let all
|
|
of that sink in. "Clear?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The Strategic Command Bunker for the Jhonkai Concordium was
|
|
quiet for the moment. Since that one enemy shuttle had escaped,
|
|
no further harassments had been made. But electronic sensors
|
|
still eagerly watched the sky.
|
|
They found something. There was a bright infrared source
|
|
high over the horizon. Tracking computers computed that it would
|
|
pass over the city, but trained weapons anyway.
|
|
Deeper in the atmosphere now, the object slowed and ceased
|
|
burning. It took on a trajectory indicating a powered vehicle,
|
|
and more weapons were brought to bear. They began to fire.
|
|
Missiles were barely out of their launch racks when they, and
|
|
the racks, were melted by spears of lightning from the intruder.
|
|
Ground based lasers got off one shot, and no more before being
|
|
likewise destroyed.
|
|
Smaller vehicles emerged, diving straight for the city. The
|
|
larger object resolved itself into a wide flat body with a disc
|
|
shaped projection forward, and twin nacelles astride its aft end.
|
|
The shuttles crisscrossed the Bunker, destroying radars and
|
|
missile launchers. Within three minutes, dozens of fires raged
|
|
around the Bunker, and now the large object was clearly visible,
|
|
directly over the city. It was big, bigger than a fleet scout,
|
|
and almost as big as a battleship.
|
|
The small boats, their destruction wrought, cleared the area,
|
|
and beams of energy began to connect the big ship with parts of
|
|
the city.
|
|
The command personnel in the Bunker tried to contact those
|
|
sections of the city, to receive no answer whatsoever. The attack
|
|
went on and on. Every remaining camera was trained on the
|
|
attacker, and its huge, menacing shape filled every eye that was
|
|
left to watch.
|
|
"We demand your surrender and the cessation of all
|
|
hostilities in and against the United Federation of Planets..."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Admiral Wesley had fewer than thirty ships left against the
|
|
four hundred remaining Jhonkai. All the space junk was scattering
|
|
emanations from the planet, and he hadn't heard from Riker. He
|
|
feared the worst. With all of his remaining ships damaged, many
|
|
of them badly, he had few if any options remaining.
|
|
Ingram was going to have to warp to the planet and bombard it
|
|
with anti-matter. How much longer could he wait?
|
|
Just then, the ship's science officer said in a slightly
|
|
puzzled tone, "Admiral, the enemy is slowing."
|
|
"Damn. Are they making for the planet again?"
|
|
"No, sir. They appear to be stopping. Wait! They're
|
|
ceasing fire!"
|
|
"What?"
|
|
"That's right, sir," noted DiSanto, watching her own screens.
|
|
Garrett mashed a finger and opened the fleet channel. "Flag
|
|
to all units, cease fire and hold position!"
|
|
"Signal from the planet, Admiral."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The bridge of the Saipan looked empty. With half of her
|
|
normal bridge crew dead or wounded from the hit that had melted
|
|
the starboard bulkhead, it was amazing that it still functioned as
|
|
a command center.
|
|
Picard stood in the middle of the bridge, with the big ship's
|
|
captain standing slightly behind and beside him.
|
|
"On screen."
|
|
An ugly tripartite alien appeared on the viewer. "This is
|
|
Second Marshall Jekhal of the Jhonkai Concordium. I am prepared
|
|
to offer the surrender of my people to a diplomatic detachment of
|
|
the United Federation of Planets."
|
|
"I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation Starfleet. I
|
|
have authority to negotiate that surrender. Do you understand
|
|
that?"
|
|
"Yes, Picard, I do, and I have since you destroyed our first
|
|
fleet around J'chut. Our former leaders were more stubborn,
|
|
however. Understand that there has been a...very recent change of
|
|
power here which has left me in charge."
|
|
"Marshall, I am deeply sorry for the extent of force which
|
|
had to be used to bring about this conversation."
|
|
"Picard is not to be blamed, rather my predecessors who
|
|
insisted on fighting against your superior strength.
|
|
"But let us meet and discuss our situation more
|
|
thoroughly..."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
CHAPTER XIX
|
|
|
|
|
|
Will Riker watched the slowly moving starscape through the
|
|
viewing ports of the Galaxy class ship's main conference room,
|
|
just off of the bridge. He gave a long sigh.
|
|
Presently, the door sighed open and shut again behind him,
|
|
and, without turning to look, he took note of quiet footfalls
|
|
approaching him. "How's my ship, Will?"
|
|
Riker half turned to note the shorter, balding form of
|
|
Captain Picard beside him. "Just fine, sir. Not much can go
|
|
wrong orbitting a starbase. I'd say it's been a fairly boring two
|
|
weeks."
|
|
Picard, himself, had been in Jhonkai space with the
|
|
negotiators, disarmament supervisors, logistics personnel, and
|
|
numerous others, since the cease fire. He was back at Starbase 93
|
|
to resume his normal duties, his major work with the Jhonkai
|
|
having been completed, and the follow-up passed on to others.
|
|
Jean-Luc joined his First Officer, once again wearing the
|
|
three collar pips of a Commander, in staring at space.
|
|
"It was worse than I first thought, Number One. Their whole
|
|
economy had been tied up in three things: invasion, transports,
|
|
and defense. To think, and to have seen, the amount of damage we
|
|
did to those people..."
|
|
Silence filled the air for several seconds. Riker broke it.
|
|
"What about Jhonkai civilian casualties?" Will was afraid he
|
|
didn't want to hear the answer.
|
|
"Actually, they were quite minimal. And I am very glad for
|
|
that."
|
|
Will breathed relief. "So am I."
|
|
"That's not all. Those ships of theirs were highly
|
|
automated. The scouts had under a hundred crew, and the big ships
|
|
scarcely twice that."
|
|
Riker's voice turned bitter. "And Starfleet?"
|
|
Picard sighed heavily. "Odysseus lost eighteen thousand
|
|
people. Logistics is still trying to figure out casualties from
|
|
before that. With all the civilians too..." Picard's voice caught
|
|
on the words. "The preliminary estimates are a million and a half
|
|
dead, half that many injured."
|
|
Riker's face was stone, his eyes focused unblinkingly on some
|
|
distant star. A remote part of his brain latched onto an
|
|
optimistic thought, or, at the very least, an outcome that might
|
|
have been worse. "And if the Admiral had acknowledged the recall?
|
|
There are several trillion beings in the Federation."
|
|
Silence filled the room for several minutes, the two men lost
|
|
in their respective reveries. Riker had watched ship after ship
|
|
of fellow officers die. Picard had wallowed in the devastation of
|
|
the Jhonkai people for two weeks.
|
|
Finally, Jean-Luc spoke. "Three votes, number one."
|
|
"Sir?"
|
|
"Odysseus was approved in the Council by three votes."
|
|
Riker turned away from the viewport, anger on his face.
|
|
"That's ridiculous! Those bastards let the Federation come within
|
|
three votes of annihilation?"
|
|
Picard was caught unawares by his exec's sudden vehemence.
|
|
"Will, calm down. They were only doing their job. Their job--
|
|
ours too--is to keep peace."
|
|
"Sir, with all due respect, there wasn't a whole bunch of
|
|
peace to be kept three weeks ago. I watched several of my friends
|
|
die in that battle, people I knew serving on those ships. I can't
|
|
say they should have died, but at least they died serving the
|
|
Federation, fulfilling their oaths. Damnit, I don't believe all
|
|
of Worf's talk about dying gloriously in battle, but at least they
|
|
didn't just get wiped out because some politician decided that it
|
|
was against some ethical principal to move their ships out of
|
|
dock.
|
|
"I'm not happy about what we did to the Jhonkai, but as sure
|
|
as I am standing here, I don't regret it."
|
|
Picard moved toward the table. "Sit down, Will." Picard's
|
|
tone was not entirely an order. Riker took a seat.
|
|
Will Riker's face was still red, and tension gestated in the
|
|
air for several long moments as the Captain thought about his
|
|
words.
|
|
"That was quite a bit of baggage you just let off there,
|
|
wasn't it?"
|
|
Will's mouth opened, but before he could speak, Picard
|
|
continued. "Will, would you give your life to save mine? Or any
|
|
other person on this ship? Or maybe even somebody you had never
|
|
met?"
|
|
Riker was caught off guard. Switching mental gears, but
|
|
making sure to hold onto the core of the discussion, he said,
|
|
"Yes, I would. You know that."
|
|
Picard leaned forward. "Would you allow the entire crew to
|
|
die if it would save a whole planet?"
|
|
Riker concentrated harder, trying to grasp what his captain
|
|
was getting at. "Yes."
|
|
"Would you allow one race of people to die to save another?"
|
|
Riker didn't answer.
|
|
Picard prompted, "Where do you draw the line, Commander?
|
|
When does sacrifice, self-sacrifice, end? And why?"
|
|
Riker answered in a flat, emotionless voice. "I don't know.
|
|
I don't have all the answers, but I know there comes a point where
|
|
my choice is us over them. And this was definitely past that
|
|
point."
|
|
"Do you honestly think that the Council members who voted
|
|
against it didn't consider that vote very seriously?" asked the
|
|
Captain rhetorically.
|
|
Picard stood and walked over to Riker's side. "Will, I know
|
|
how you feel. Frankly, I was disappointed about that piece of
|
|
news myself.
|
|
"But I spent more time these past two weeks trying to curb
|
|
bloodthirsty Federation personnel than trying to control the
|
|
Jhonkai. After Jekhal took over, they were very cooperative.
|
|
"Obviously things could have turned out much worse, but they
|
|
could have been better as well. And there's plenty of blame to be
|
|
spread around if that is what you really want to do."
|
|
Riker shook his head. "Of course not."
|
|
"Will, you've done your part, and I've done mine. What the
|
|
Federation needs now is to start getting back to normal."
|
|
Will leaned back in the chair and turned once again toward
|
|
the viewport. After a short while, he asked, "So how did the
|
|
negotiations go?"
|
|
"Not as badly as I feared," answered Picard, "but not as well
|
|
as I had hoped."
|
|
Riker allowed himself a wan smile. "I believe I know the
|
|
feeling."
|
|
"Every ship that could still generate rips has already
|
|
withdrawn. The ones that couldn't surrendered. We'll oversee
|
|
their disarmament, of course. The Federation is allowing them to
|
|
settle coreward systems that we've never had time to develop, and
|
|
after they get set up there they have to provide merchant ships to
|
|
the Federation and give us an assured trade status."
|
|
"That doesn't sound to bad," observed Riker.
|
|
"Well, some pretty stiff reparations have been assigned to
|
|
them, but they've also been offered Federation membership at some
|
|
unspecified time in the future. I am proud to say that the last
|
|
was at my urging."
|
|
Riker nodded. "Good idea, sir."
|
|
"So, Number One, are you getting used to being a Commander
|
|
again?"
|
|
Riker chuckled. "I think so. Just forgive me if I try to
|
|
give you orders by accident, okay?"
|
|
"I think I can manage that. I am glad to have you back with
|
|
me, Number One."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Mr. President, everything is going well."
|
|
The President looked at Admiral Heirok, then looked around at
|
|
the complete chaos which dominated Starfleet Command. Here a
|
|
group dealt with the surrendering Jhonkai, in that corner a team
|
|
monitored rips, over there Logistics was trying to organise repair
|
|
and refit for dozens of starships, Personnel was arranging for all
|
|
of the reservists returning from duty, Planetary aid was in full
|
|
swing...
|
|
"Excellent Admiral. And the stand-down?"
|
|
Heirok nodded. "All sector commands have acknowledged the
|
|
stand-down order. The United Federation of Planets is now
|
|
officially off of Invasion Alert."
|
|
The President knew how much work was left to accomplish, how
|
|
much rebuilding would have to be done. Nonetheless, he looked
|
|
relieved, for perhaps the first time in over a month.
|
|
"I am glad to hear that, Admiral. What deployments are still
|
|
in effect?"
|
|
Turning towards a strategic display of Federation territory,
|
|
the Chief of Starfleet said, "The local defense fleets have been
|
|
put into service for relief efforts, and the PDF is overseeing
|
|
Jhonkai transport and colonisation. The remainder of Task Force
|
|
Odysseus is in Jhonkai space, with some reinforcements, observing
|
|
and aiding with disarmament."
|
|
"Fine, fine. Carry on Admiral, I have an appointment to
|
|
attend to."
|
|
"Yes, sir."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"This Board of Inquiry is now in session.
|
|
"Admiral Garrett Irving Wesley, you are accused of disobeying
|
|
orders and mutiny. How do you plead?"
|
|
What an obnoxious formality, thought Wesley. Garrett didn't
|
|
exactly think himself a hero (although there were many who did),
|
|
but he certainly didn't expect to get hanged for winning a war.
|
|
Oh, there was no death penalty or anything, but the head of the
|
|
board was an Academy classmate of Wesley's who had never really
|
|
liked Wesley. According to the strictest letter of Starfleet law,
|
|
he would have every right to hand Wesley a dishonourable discharge
|
|
and some time in a Starfleet prison.
|
|
But he wouldn't. Would he?
|
|
Wesley's lips were forming around his answer when the door
|
|
opened.
|
|
The Chairman's face frowned. "Damnit, this board is closed-"
|
|
When he saw who had entered, the Chairman was too
|
|
flabbergasted to speak, so one of the commodores announced,
|
|
"Attention on Deck!"
|
|
"At ease, gentlemen. Mr. Chairman?"
|
|
The presiding Admiral was at attention again. "Yes, Mr.
|
|
President?"
|
|
"I am ordering you to drop all charges against Admiral
|
|
Wesley. Do you understand?"
|
|
"Yes, sir. Perfectly." His voice sounded disappointed.
|
|
The President obviously did not appreciate that tone.
|
|
"Admiral, no mutiny took place. Admiral Wesley obeyed his orders
|
|
perfectly."
|
|
Everyone in the room, Wesley included blinked in surprise.
|
|
"Mr. President?" The Chairman lifted a transcript of the orders.
|
|
"But Admiral Wesley's orders-"
|
|
"-were to keep the main Jhonkai force from wreaking havoc in
|
|
the Federation. And he managed to force them all to withdraw.
|
|
Every last ship. That is all, Mr. Chairman. The board is
|
|
dismissed."
|
|
The entire Board grabbed their papers and filed quickly out
|
|
of the room.
|
|
As the President watched them go, Wesley approached him.
|
|
"Sir, thank you."
|
|
The President turned to face him. "Admiral, there is not a
|
|
being in the entire universe who does not make mistakes. My only
|
|
wish is that they could all have someone as willing to recognise
|
|
those mistakes as you. You have done the Federation a great
|
|
service."
|
|
For the first time in his memory, Garrett Wesley blushed.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
As Picard strode onto the bridge, Executive Officer Riker
|
|
turned and informed him, "All preparation have been made, Captain.
|
|
We're ready to get underway."
|
|
"Excellent." Picard took his seat, surveying his bridge.
|
|
"Make it so."
|
|
Riker's large frame seemed to fill the centre of the bridge
|
|
where he stood. "Mr. Worf, open a channel to Starbase
|
|
Operations."
|
|
Worf was about to acknowledge when an indicator at his
|
|
console activated. "Sir, incoming transmission."
|
|
Riker raised an eyebrow. "What's the source?"
|
|
"Starfleet Command, sir."
|
|
"On screen."
|
|
The viewscreen changed from anonymous stars to a UFP logo. A
|
|
voice announced, "Standby for the President of the United
|
|
Federation of Planets."
|
|
Picard and Riker exchanged glances, and Picard rose to stand
|
|
beside his first officer.
|
|
The President's features were suddenly looking down at them.
|
|
"Greetings Captain Picard, Commander Riker."
|
|
"Mr. President," they said together.
|
|
"Gentlemen, you have both performed outstandingly in service
|
|
of the Federation during the recent crisis. I would like to
|
|
extend to you both my personal thanks, as well as that of
|
|
Starfleet Command and the Federation."
|
|
Picard answered first. "Thank you, Mr. President. We are
|
|
flattered."
|
|
"Not at all. Captain, I wish to congratulate you for the
|
|
tremendous work you did with the diplomatic contingency. I am
|
|
sure that no one could have done a better job with the situation
|
|
you faced. In fact, let me know if you ever want a job with the
|
|
Foreign Office."
|
|
Picard laughed. "Not for a while, yet, sir."
|
|
"And Commander. I am happy to be the first to inform you
|
|
that you will receive both the Starfleet Citation for Gallantry
|
|
and the Presidential Citation for Outstanding Service. That's a
|
|
very impressive combination, Commander Riker."
|
|
Riker was well aware of that fact. "Thank you, Mr.
|
|
President."
|
|
"And now, Captain, Commander, I have a special assignment
|
|
that I think will please you both."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
EPILOGUE
|
|
|
|
|
|
Jean-Luc Picard stood in full dress uniform in the largest
|
|
viewing lounge of an orbital museum which cruised slowly about the
|
|
planet Mars. Clustered near him, Beverly and Deanna showed smiles
|
|
of happy expectation.
|
|
The museum had been made out of the docking bay section of
|
|
Starfleet's original Spacedock, salvaged when its replacement was
|
|
built, and moved to its present location as a place to display
|
|
with honour those ships whose names stood out most prominently in
|
|
Starfleet history.
|
|
And had survived... The corridors were lined with memorial
|
|
plaques to all the ships Starfleet had sent out never to return.
|
|
Though all well kept, Picard couldn't help but notice the gleaming
|
|
new sheen on the almost sixty recent additions.
|
|
Picard looked around the tremendous enclosed space on the
|
|
other side of the clearsteel windows. Dozens of shuttles and
|
|
fighters, small scout ships, several destroyers and even larger
|
|
ships.
|
|
Most conspicuous, by far, was the ship directly opposite the
|
|
bay doors. Shining bright white and blue under the powerful
|
|
lights, her twin nacelles and fine lines designed to grab the
|
|
admiration of all who saw her, the United Star Ship Enterprise,
|
|
NCC 1701-A, sat majestically in the role of guardian angel of all
|
|
about her.
|
|
Several smaller ships had been moved from nearby, allowing
|
|
technicians to construct a huge berth next to the angel. The UFP
|
|
anthem blared from hidden speakers suddenly. Picard came to
|
|
attention, as did all the other officers around him. Civilians
|
|
were in other lounges.
|
|
The main monitor faded from the Federation flag to the
|
|
Starfleet emblem--the curved arrowhead shape originally from the
|
|
first starship Enterprise--to a view outside the museum.
|
|
The Sol home fleet was in twin ranks, lining the approach
|
|
trajectory to the museum bay. They forced energy through their
|
|
deflector screens, and the onlookers watched rainbows of colour
|
|
ripple down the line. Then, from the end of the line, two shapes
|
|
began to move.
|
|
Geordi commanded Picard's ship as she led the Alaska class
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battlecruiser Enterprise through the formation. The two vessels
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crept down the line, their serene glide punctuated only by the
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bursts of the twenty-one gun salute: a wash of bright phaser fire
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from Enterprise-D, followed scarcely seconds later from all the
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rest.
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Strobe lights pulsed red throughout the docking area. The
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monstrous doors showed a sliver of dull red light reflected off of
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the planet's surface, which widened until most of the fleet was
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visible outside.
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Just before the doors, Geordi banked high, parking over the
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museum.
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"Wes, time to doors?" asked Riker.
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"Fourteen seconds, sir," came the answer from the helm.
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The glow of the last shot of the salute flashed from the
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museum's bright surface, and Geordi conned his ship into a climb
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and rotation.
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As the battlecruiser's bow light passed through the bay
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doors, the Galaxy class ship faced opposite, looking back down the
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assembled ranks of ships.
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Wes Crusher watched his controls intently, caressing the
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manoeuvring jets just so,making sure every move the ship made was
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perfect.
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A beep sounded from the comm panel. Worf said, "Dock master
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is hailing, sir. Tugs standing by for assistance."
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Riker considered that. "Need the help, Mr. Crusher?"
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"No way, sir!"
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A playful smile crossed Will's lips. "Mr. Worf, signal the
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dock master that, after we dock this battlecruiser, we'll be more
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than happy to assist his tugs."
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Worf let slip a soft bark that might have been a chuckle.
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"Aye, aye, sir."
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As the shadow of the bay fell across the ship's nacelles,
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Will called to an open hailing frequency, "Thanks for the escort,
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Geordi. Good job."
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"No problem, Commander. That's a fine looking ship you've
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got there. Enterprise out."
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All too soon, scarcely minutes later, Riker felt the slight
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change in the humming which coursed through the deckplates that
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told him the thrusters had shut down. The ship was motionless.
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Data confirmed this. "Docking manoeuvres completed,
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Commander. Dock workers are approaching with the gangway and
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permanent bracings. Shall I begin powerdown sequence?"
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Riker sighed. How many times had he thought he was about to
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give his last order aboard this ship? But this was really it.
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Will was about to feel sad, but then he noticed the recently
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repaired battle damage. He saw Deneva explode in his mind, and
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watched scenes from the whole final battle around the Jhonkai
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homeworld dance through his head.
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William Riker knew that he did what had been necessary, but
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now that was done, and he could get back to the Enterprise, the
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one that really mattered. His home.
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"Power down all systems, Mr. Data."
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"Yes, sir. Main engines are cold, impulse shutdown
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beginning, and storage routines are running."
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Riker nodded. "That's everything, then?"
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Argyle spoke from his station. "Everything for us, sir. The
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museum will take care of the rest."
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"Let's go then."
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Riker watched the other four begin their way down the
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gangplank, then turned to close the airlock. The computer
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confirmed that nobody was on board, and accepted the command.
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As he started to walk away, he pondered briefly whether this
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end of the passage was under low pressure, or if there were some
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other invisible force making it hard for him to go.
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He heard noise up ahead, some kind of commotion, and wondered
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what might be up. Will brightened his pace. He was deposited
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into the museum proper, and as he rounded a turn towards the main
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lounge, he ran straight into a wall of sound.
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Cheering, whistling, a torrent of noise, all directed at the
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officers of Enterprise-C, and, specifically, Will Riker. As he
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threaded through the wall to wall uniforms, a melange of red, blue
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and gold, Will Riker's face was that of a little boy, jubilant at
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the praise he receives from those around him. Hearty pats on the
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back thumped him continuously. One short redhead in security gold
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planted a ferocious kiss on Riker's lips before retreating into
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the sea of uniforms.
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He was still pondering that when Picard and the others found
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him. "Well, Number One," said the Captain, his voice swelling
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above the rest, "it seems your reputation precedes you."
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Riker threw his head back and let out a tremendous laugh.
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Every bit of tension that had collected in him since the whole
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Jhonkai crisis had begun abandoned him in one cathartic moment.
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His eyes on the verge of tears, Riker acknowledged, "It would seem
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so. I could use a good party."
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Riker walked onto the Galaxy class ship's bridge, at a
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moderate pace, and trying not to move his head very much. He had
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a hangover.
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Kate Pulaski was also on the bridge. "Will, are you alright?"
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Riker had deliberately forgone any hangover treatments, to
|
|
remind himself not to do this again. "I'm fine, Doctor." His
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|
voice was just a little slower than usual.
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|
Deanna said, "Will-"
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|
He knew what she was going to say. She was going to tell him
|
|
he was not fine, and that he should let the doctor do something
|
|
for him. She was absolutely correct.
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|
"I said I'm fine." She took his word for it.
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The ready room door hissed, and Picard walked briskly to the
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centre chair. He obviously noticed Will's slightly unnatural
|
|
complexion, yet chose to ignore it. Riker was glad. If he had to
|
|
tell one more person just how fine he was, he might very well keel
|
|
over from the exertion.
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|
"We have our orders, Number One. We're to finish the
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|
training games that were interrupted. I'm rather looking forward
|
|
to it."
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|
"Hmm."
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|
Even Picard couldn't resist after that pitiful response.
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|
"So, how did the party end last night, Will?"
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|
"I don't remember," he mumbled.
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|
Jean-Luc smiled--'Ah, youth', or some such sentiment--and let
|
|
it be. "Mr. Data, set a course for Starbase 42, warp four."
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"Aye, aye, sir. Course laid in."
|
|
"Number One?"
|
|
Riker considered briefly, then answered. "No, thank you,
|
|
sir. Your ship, your prerogative."
|
|
"Very well." Picard's right index finger pointed forward.
|
|
"Engage."
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