Headlong Flight

by Dayton Ward

  La Forge could not help smiling. “Well within standard parameters? That’s all I get?” He shook his head. “Tough room.”

  Looking up from his tricorder, Data asked, “Was that not the desired result of our efforts?”

  La Forge glanced up from the probe’s open access panel and regarded his friend. “You’re doing it to me again, aren’t you?”

  “Doing what?”

  Sensing a rabbit hole threatening to swallow them both if the current conversational drift was permitted to continue, La Forge opted not to respond. Instead, he offered a small chuckle as he reached for his own tricorder. After a moment verifying Data’s scans as well as his own hunch, the chief engineer nodded in satisfaction.

  “Okay, that makes number five ready to go.” Closing his tricorder and returning it to the worktable, La Forge was caught by the sudden urge to yawn, which he did not fight. Of course, the involuntary movement only served to remind him how the muscles in his back and neck had long ago started to ache.

  “You appear fatigued,” said Data.

  Straightening his posture, La Forge pulled down on his uniform tunic before reaching up to where his VISOR attached to the connection points at his temples. “That’s one way to put it.” The visual-aid prosthesis had always been a source of mild discomfort, which over time he had learned to ignore or just endure, depending on the circumstances. Long hours and detailed work tended to amplify the effects, and he knew he and Data had already been at this task well beyond their normal duty shift. The headache he was beginning to feel was only amplifying the constant dull ache behind his eyes.

  Data said, “If you wish, I can complete the modifications to the last probe while you rest.”

  “I appreciate the offer, but we’re almost done.” Stifling the urge to yawn a second time, La Forge rubbed the back of his neck. “How long have we been at this, anyway?”

  “Five hours, fourteen minutes, eleven seconds.”

  Whoops.

  Glancing toward the chronometer on a nearby workstation, the engineer released a groan of irritation. “I can’t believe I forgot. She’s going to kill me.”

  “Someone is going to kill you?” asked Data.

  “I don’t mean for real.” Pausing to consider his comment, La Forge added, “Then again, anything’s possible.” He pressed the heels of his hands against the sides of his head. “I ruined everything. Again.”

  Data regarded him with his best approximation of a perplexed expression. “I do not understand.”

  “I was supposed to have a late dinner with Lieutenant Ellis, from the astrophysics department.”

  “Lieutenant Heidi Ellis,” replied Data. “She is a recent addition to the crew, and came aboard at Starbase 212.”

  La Forge nodded. “Right. I met her a day or so after that, and we seemed to hit it off. Dinner tonight was my idea, and I forgot to let her know I might be late, or not even make it.”

  “Surely, she will recognize that your responsibilities as chief engineer took precedence.”

  “If only it were that simple, Data.” La Forge grunted again. “I guess I just lost track of time.”

  With the interrupted poker game and the time spent on the bridge getting their first look at the planet, and the hours spent requisitioning and relocating the six probes so that they could be reconfigured for surveying the nebula, it was now well after midnight, and likely too late for him to attempt calling Ellis to apologize for his gaffe.

  Way to go, La Forge.

  His track record with respect to social interactions had been less than stellar in recent months, and it was something he had decided he needed to improve. His failure to remember his date with Ellis was the exact opposite of moving in the right direction.

  Nothing you can do about it now. May as well get back to work.

  “Let’s finish up and launch these things,” he said. “I’ll apologize to Heidi and then get some sleep after that. Deal?”

  Nodding, Data replied, “Very well.”

  “But if we’re going to do this, then I’m going to need coffee.” Stepping away from the worktable, La Forge crossed the lab to the replicator set into the room’s rear bulkhead. Within seconds the ship’s computer responded to his instructions and a cup of steaming brown coffee materialized on the small, recessed platform. The first taste of the brew, his favored blend and with the exact proportions of milk and sugar he preferred, tasted like heaven.

  Not as good as dinner with Heidi, though. Idiot.

  “All right,” he said, “where were we?”

  Data was already standing before the sixth and final probe to be modified and was reaching into its access panel to pull from its information processor three of the seven isolinear chips La Forge knew were inside. Moving to the desktop computer interface he had placed on the worktable’s far end, the android inserted one of the compact storage devices into a port on the terminal’s base and began reviewing the chip’s contents.

  Without looking up from the computer interface, he said, “Once the modifications to the final probe are complete, it should require less than twenty minutes to synchronize their individual course trajectories with the main computer and our sensor array and move them into position for launch.”

  “I can handle the rest of this, you know,” said La Forge. “I mean, don’t you have something else you need to be doing? In case you’ve forgotten, you’re still the first officer.”

  “My duty shift ended at the same time yours did. The gamma shift duty officer will contact me from the bridge if something requires my attention. As I do not require sleep, I am able to devote my normally off-duty hours to endeavors such as this. Besides, my duties also include assisting the science and engineering departments as needed and appropriate.”

  It was true that while Data was not officially listed on the Enterprise’s crew roster as a science or engineering officer, his talents in those fields made him an invaluable asset. La Forge could vouch for that, and the pair had made an effective tandem for the past few years, to the point that the very idea of not having the android—his friend—around to help with tasks such as the one now before him was almost impossible for the engineer to imagine.

  “I swear,” he said, “sometimes I think I’ll never get used to seeing you in a command uniform.”

  Pausing in his work, Data looked down at himself, perusing his red tunic. “It is the proper uniform for the ship’s first officer.”

  “I know.” La Forge’s gaze fell on the three gold pips on Data’s collar, denoting the android’s rank of full commander. It was a change that had occurred months earlier, following the Borg attack that had cost the life of Jean-Luc Picard and so many others. Following Picard’s capture by the Borg before that vessel began moving through Federation space on a course toward Earth, Vice Admiral J. P. Hanson declared him “a casualty of war” before granting Riker a field promotion to captain and giving him command of the Enterprise. At the time, Riker had opted to assign the role of his new first officer to Lieutenant Commander Elizabeth Shelby, who with Hanson had originally come from Starfleet’s tactical division to brief Picard about the new Borg threat. Shelby had stayed with the Enterprise and been on hand during the starship’s first encounter with the vessel that ultimately seized Picard.

  When the Borg assimilated the captain into their Collective, they were able to utilize his knowledge of Starfleet defenses and tactics to undermine any attempt at protecting the Federation and Earth. The lone Borg vessel met its fiercest opposition at Wolf 359, where a fleet of starships waited. Using the information gleaned from Picard, the Borg annihilated that fleet before continuing on course for Earth. All may have been lost if not for Shelby, working with Data, who hit on the idea of being able to communicate directly with Picard despite his being controlled by the Borg. Shelby and Data, with Picard’s guidance, infiltrated the enemy vessel’s onboard computer systems a
nd input a series of commands that essentially put every Borg on the ship to sleep. What they had not counted on was the vessel itself taking defensive action and setting into motion a self-destruct protocol. With no time to spare, Riker was left with no choice but to move the Enterprise to a safe distance before the Borg ship was destroyed, killing its entire complement along with Captain Picard.

  “Do you ever wonder what things might have been like if Commander Shelby had decided to stay behind as first officer?” asked La Forge.

  Data shook his head. “No. The commander’s skills and expertise are needed at Starfleet Tactical. Except perhaps for Captain Riker, she is the foremost authority on the Borg. Her knowledge and talents may well be our best option for finding a means of defense against their next attack.”

  “You think they’ll come at us again?”

  “It seems a reasonable conclusion, based on their past methods and expressed motivations,” replied Data. “Further, we must also contend with the fact that the Borg now have access to all the knowledge Captain Picard possessed about Starfleet’s offensive and defensive capabilities. Combating that advantage will prove a daunting challenge.” Picard’s capture and death was an enormous loss for Starfleet, the true scope of which would not even be known until the Borg decided to make another attempt at conquering the Federation. Closer to home, the loss also had been a tragic blow for the entire Enterprise crew, many of whom had been with the ship since its launch with Picard as their first commanding officer.

  La Forge sighed. “I know all of that’s important, but most of all, I just miss him. Will Riker is a fantastic captain, and he’s been amazing at getting all of us back on track, but Captain Picard left some pretty big shoes to fill.”

  “Your choice of idiom seems to be an indication that you doubt Captain Riker is able to satisfactorily carry out the duties in the same manner as Captain Picard.” Data studied him for a moment. “However, your body language and facial expression suggest something else.”

  “I have no doubt Captain Riker can do the job,” replied the engineer. “He’s already proven that more times than I can count.” Again, he rubbed his temples, just above the VISOR’s contact points. The headache was really making itself known now. He looked around the room. “I’m just saying that in a lot of ways, Captain Picard was the heart of this ship. He was her first captain, and they’re the ones who usually end up leaving a lasting mark long after they’re gone. Captain Riker will make his own mark, too, but . . .” He let the sentence drift away, uncertain how even to complete it. “I’m babbling, now. My brain is turning to mush.”

  Data said, “Perhaps you should reconsider that rest period, while I complete our work here.”

  “I’ll be fine.” La Forge gestured to the probe. “Besides, I have a confession: This is the most interesting thing I’ve done in months that didn’t involve the engines or power relays or any of a thousand other things. It’s a nice change of pace.”

  “That is not the first time I have heard such a sentiment.” Though he had once more activated his tricorder, Data paused in his movement to return to working on the probe. “Geordi, as first officer, one of my duties is to assess the morale of the crew, and to ensure that they are not being overworked or overstressed. However, as an android, I find myself questioning my ability to make such a determination with the same effectiveness as a living being.”

  La Forge smiled. “I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. You always seem to read me well enough. That said, if you find yourself wondering about that sort of thing, talk to Counselor Troi. Keeping tabs on the crew’s morale is part of her job too.”

  “We have had conversations on this topic, and her insight has been most helpful. Indeed, we discussed how the crew was reacting to the discovery of the nebula, and how even a straightforward scientific investigation has been beneficial to, as she described it, ‘getting us out of a rut.’ I had to consult the linguistic data banks to understand that term, but it seems a most apt descriptor.”

  Chuckling, La Forge replied, “And that was before we found the planet. You can bet the whole ship’s buzzing over a genuine puzzle to solve.” He released a long breath. “Long hours or not, it’s done wonders for me. After making cargo runs and checking up on colonies and ferrying around admirals and diplomats for months, it’s nice to get back to doing what this ship was built to do in the first place.”

  “Indeed,” said Data, “I have even noticed a change in the captain’s behavior, which coincided with our receiving the orders to investigate the Spindrift Nebula.”

  La Forge nodded. “He probably needs this more than anyone aboard. It’s good to see him acting more like his old self.”

  The shift in Riker’s demeanor had been displayed in different ways, from his intense curiosity about the nebula and the strange planet it apparently harbored to his promise to the senior staff that he would at long last return to the weekly poker game. In the weeks and months preceding the Enterprise’s present assignment, Riker had been all business; professional and supportive of his crew, but maintaining a certain detachment that reminded La Forge of Picard during the late captain’s first years in command of the starship. It was as though Riker had erected a shell around himself in the hopes of keeping his duties and responsibilities separated from his personal feelings toward those in his charge, many of whom had become akin to family during their service together. As for the rest of the crew, while they continued to carry out their duties to the best of their ability and in the finest Enterprise tradition, their captain’s sometimes aloof behavior had not gone unnoticed. Despite the apparent lack of glamour or excitement attached to their survey of the Spindrift Nebula, the change of direction and renewal of the starship’s perceived purpose—­exploration—had been enough to energize everyone aboard ship, including La Forge, and hopefully the captain, as well.

  So let’s get on with this.

  5

  ELSEWHERE

  U.S.S. Enterprise-D

  “And you’re sure you can handle this by yourself?”

  Standing at the entrance to their bedroom, Deanna Troi listened to the voice coming from the computer on Will Riker’s desk. Other than the glow of running lights from somewhere along the hull outside the slanted viewing ports forming one wall of their shared quarters, the soft shine of the computer’s display was the only ambient light in the room. She watched as the gentle illumination played across Riker’s face as he sat behind his desk, dressed in a loose-fitting cobalt-blue shirt and matching pants. His internal struggle to maintain his composure was evident to her, perceived as a rolling wave of emotion as Riker stared at the screen and the owner of the gruff voice barking at him. Though the terminal was angled so that she could not see it, there could be no mistaking Admiral Edward Jellico.

  Riker, sitting straight in his high-backed chair, kept his hands folded in his lap. “As I said, sir, my people and I are more than capable of investigating this nebula. If we find the planet and determine it presents any danger to the ship, I’ll back off and call for reinforcements.” Despite his best efforts, Troi was still able to pick up the slight hint of annoyance in his voice. She stepped from their bedroom, moving so that she could see the screen without being registered by its visual pickup.

  If he also recognized the strain behind Riker’s words, Jellico chose not to say anything about it. Instead, he offered, “What have you learned so far?”

  “About the nebula? By itself, it doesn’t appear to be anything special, at least according to the sensor data we’ve already recorded. Still, we’re preparing a suite of unmanned probes to conduct a comprehensive sweep, while we concentrate on locating the planet. So far, it’s doing a good job hiding from us.”

  “What are the chances this is something new the Romulans have cooked up?”

  Riker replied, “The energy readings we’ve detected so far aren’t consistent with what we know of Romulan technology
. That said, my first officer and chief engineer aren’t ruling anything out just yet.”

  “Good. Given that we’re still trying to get the fleet up to full strength, this isn’t the time to get caught with our pants down.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Well, it’s nice to know we can see eye to eye on occasion.”

  Her empathic senses noted Riker’s flicker of irritation in response to the comment, and Troi watched him raise his chin ever so slightly, his only concession to Jellico’s snide remark. Now able to see the admiral’s face on the screen, Troi observed his perpetual scowl. Deep lines creased the admiral’s forehead, and there were dark circles beneath his eyes. Edward Jellico’s reputation for exacting long hours and hard work from those under his command was well known throughout the fleet, as was his penchant for pushing himself even harder than his subordinates. That was likely even more acute now, given the admiral’s current assignment overseeing the Starfleet Tactical Division, which had become a swarm of activity in the months following the Borg attack.

  Troi conceded that such an assignment was perfect for a man like Jellico, who was a demanding officer and, without question, a man who epitomized leadership by example. Having never met him face-to-face, Troi could only guess his motivations to present such an intimidating demeanor. Did he perhaps suffer from a lack of confidence in his own abilities? That seemed inconsistent, at least on the surface. His dedication to duty was indisputable, though his methods could come across as brusque and dictatorial, standing in stark contrast to the poised yet self-assured command style exuded by someone like Riker, or even Jean-Luc Picard before him.

  “I’ll be transmitting a full report with our latest findings shortly, Admiral, and once we start receiving data from the probes, we’ll add that to updates from now on.”

  “I look forward to reading your report,” replied Jellico. “Starfleet out.”