Headlong Flight

by Dayton Ward

  “For now,” he added, “maintain your position while you complete your repairs. That keeps the Romulans between us. As long as they elect to remain in place, at least.”

  Riker replied, “Agreed.” It was evident that he had so much more he wanted to say, but also understood the need to maintain priorities. “I’ll contact you once I have an update. Riker out.”

  The transmission ended and he disappeared, replaced by an image of the Enterprise-D floating within the nebula, and as he stared at the ship, he was gripped by feelings of regret and even longing.

  Hello, old friend.

  There were, of course, Galaxy-class starships still in service, and all of them nearly identical to the vessel Picard now beheld. None of them had ever seemed to embody the majesty and grace that he thought characterized the vessel on which he had served as her captain during its active tour of duty. He had not been with her when she fell from the skies above the remote planet Veridian III, mortally wounded after a brief yet costly battle with a Klingon warship. The Enterprise-D—its saucer section, at least—had crash-landed on the planet’s surface, damaged beyond any feasible hope of repair. Starfleet instead chose to take the U.S.S. Honorius, one of the Sovereign-class vessels that at the time were still under construction, and rechristen it as the newest starship to carry on the storied tradition of ships named Enterprise.

  While grateful for the honor bestowed upon him and his crew, Picard had always felt guilty for the loss of this ship’s predecessor. On an intellectual level, he knew it was illogical to assign such powerful meaning to any object, even one as incredibly complex as a starship. Still, it was human nature to form such attachments, particularly to vessels like the Enterprise—both the ship on the viewscreen and the one on which he now stood—which served and protected those aboard her with such distinction.

  Shaking himself from his reverie, Picard turned to Lieutenant Šmrhová at the tactical station. “Any updates on the away team?”

  The security chief shook her head. “No, sir. The quantum energy levels are still interfering with our communications, and our sensor readings are also still muddled, so I can’t even get a good fix on the team’s position. Engineering reports they’ve already tasked personnel to solve the issue.” She looked up from her console. “Captain, I request your permission to pilot a shuttle to the surface.”

  “Your offer is appreciated, Lieutenant, but unless or until we can get a better handle on the nature of the planet’s dimensional shifting, I’m reluctant to risk any more of my people.” In hindsight, sending Commander Worf and the others had been unwise, even if it seemed, at the time, to be the best way to learn more about the situation on the surface and determine whether assistance could be provided. While Picard knew that any away mission carried with it an element of risk, it did little to assuage his uneasiness at having subjected his people to unexpected hazards such as the one they now faced.

  What were they facing down there?

  Ushalon

  Chen aimed her phaser and pressed the firing stud, but nothing happened, and her surprise was mirrored by the Romulan she had just tried to shoot.

  “Well, damn it all to hell,” she said, scowling at the misbehaving weapon before throwing it at the Romulan’s face.

  Her action had the intended effect as the Romulan soldier ducked to avoid being hit, giving Chen the precious seconds she needed to close the distance. She swept her left arm up, catching the barrel of the disruptor in the Romulan’s right hand and forcing it away from her. Now within arm’s reach, she clamped her right hand onto the muscle connecting her adversary’s neck and shoulder and squeezed. The soldier’s eyes rolled back into his head, and she felt his body go limp beneath her. He collapsed to the deck, releasing his hold on his disruptor and allowing her to retrieve it.

  “Thanks,” she said, regarding the unconscious Romulan. His uniform—silver tunic with purple trousers, high black boots, and the gold helmet concealing all but the front of his face—was the very definition of anachronism. Chen had never seen anything like it outside a history text or a holodeck program. It was as though the soldier had stepped out from the shadows of history to confront her.

  And he’s got friends.

  Hearing commotion from somewhere down the passageway, Chen turned and headed in that direction. The Romulan weapon, a form of disruptor pistol that was as out of place and time as its owner, felt large and unwieldy in her hand. Would the damned thing even work? Her opponent had not had the chance to fire upon encountering Chen in the hallway, and a quick glance at its power setting told her the weapon was carrying a full charge.

  Your phaser told you the same thing.

  Rounding a corner in the passageway, she was in time to see Taurik defending himself against another Romulan. Both men were unarmed, and the Romulan had lunged forward to attack Taurik. Beyond them, Chen caught sight of Kirsten Cruzen flipping another Romulan over her hip and throwing him to the deck. She backpedaled, giving herself room to maneuver as the soldier regained his feet, readying another attack.

  Chen raised the disruptor and fired. She was rewarded with a howl of energy as the weapon spat forth a green-white bolt that slammed into the Romulan, forcing him off his feet and driving him into the nearby bulkhead.

  “How about that?”

  Taurik, still locked in his own fight, blocked his attacker’s arm as the Romulan swung at his head before delivering a powerful strike to his opponent’s chest. The soldier stumbled back a step, giving Chen a chance to dispatch him with the disruptor.

  “Good to know something works around here,” said Cruzen as she picked up her adversary’s weapon from the floor.

  Retrieving a weapon for himself, Taurik replied, “Indeed.” He pointed toward another T-shaped intersection in the passageway. “There are others.”

  The Vulcan’s observation was punctuated by the sight of another Romulan appearing in the hallway, flying through the air and slamming into a wall near the intersection. He slid to the floor, clearly unconscious, and a second later Worf lunged into view. Moving to crouch over the fallen Romulan, Worf checked to verify that his opponent was out of commission before turning his attention to Chen and the others.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  Taurik replied, “Yes, sir. We appear to have incapacitated four of seven intruders.”

  “Five.” Worf grunted in annoyance. “This one was not alone. His partner is unconscious near the entrance they used to access the habitat.”

  Using his purloined disruptor, Taurik pointed past Worf. “The other two are in that direction. Lieutenant Konya and Doctor Tropp were heading that way to investigate.” Attempts at communication between the away team members had proven problematic, owing to the still elevated levels of quantum energy being cast off by the Sidrac’s field generator. Chen suspected it to be the same issue currently plaguing their phasers, but not—apparently—the older and cruder weapons carried by the Romulans.

  There’s probably a lesson here about becoming too reliant on technology or some such damned thing.

  “Have to hand it to them,” said Cruzen. “They did all right, considering there were only seven of them. Sneaky bastards.”

  “Romulans are without honor.”

  Worf left that observation hanging in the air as he turned and began moving back the way he had come, gesturing for the others to follow him. Once through the intersection, the first officer grabbed a disruptor lying on the floor near the door Chen knew led to one of the habitat’s four entrances. Sprawled on the deck on the corridor’s opposite side was another unconscious Romulan, and Worf paused long enough to recover that soldier’s weapon, giving him one for each hand.

  The sound of disruptor fire from somewhere ahead of them made the Klingon break into a run, with Chen and Taurik following him while Cruzen covered their rear flank. Worf started to turn the corner to his left, only to retreat with
such speed that he nearly backed into Chen. There was no time to say anything before a disruptor bolt pierced the air and passed through the space Worf had just occupied, chewing into the bulkhead to their right. More weapons fire echoed in the passageway, out of sight. Chen heard voices and running footsteps.

  “I saw both of them,” said Worf. “But no sign of Konya or Doctor Tropp.”

  Taurik reached for his tricorder, and Chen watched his hand brush the empty holster on his left hip. “My last scan showed they were farther away, toward the habitat’s southeast entrance.”

  The habitat that acted as home and laboratory for the Sidrac featured entrances in each quadrant of the cluster of connected structures, each with its own contained pressure lock and storage area for the protective suits used by Nelidar and her companions when venturing outside or below ground to the area housing the field generator. As Nelidar had explained, those sections could be sealed off from the rest of the habitat in the event of a breach, but those measures were intended to contain the structure’s internal atmosphere, rather than preventing forced entry by intruders, as the Romulans were now demonstrating. In the immediate wake of the last dimensional shift, the intruders had managed to get through the external doors and into the habitat itself, dividing their team so that each entrance was breached at the same time. This had forced the away team to split up in an attempt to repel their unwanted guests while protecting Nelidar and her people, none of whom possessed weapons of their own.

  “They’re moving away,” said Worf, just before he stepped into the connecting corridor, both disruptors raised. He fired without warning, each weapon unleashing its own energy bolt. Chen winced at the reports in the enclosed space before following after the first officer as he plunged forward. Ahead of him, she saw shadows on the walls forming the next intersection, and heard shouts of alarm echoing in the distance. Worf led the way around the next corner, and Chen chased after him, her eyes widening as she caught sight of the Romulan aiming a disruptor in her direction.

  The weapon screamed as Chen and Worf dropped to the floor and the disruptor bolt punched into the wall behind them. Snarling in frustration, the Romulan was adjusting his aim as Cruzen stepped into the corridor, her disruptor grasped in both hands, and fired. A single shot caught the Romulan in his chest, driving him off his feet before landing in a heavy heap on the floor.

  Footsteps ahead of them made Chen raise her own weapon, but she elevated its muzzle when three figures appeared at the next junction. She smiled at the sight of Rennan Konya and Doctor Tropp escorting the remaining Romulan. Konya had acquired the soldier’s weapon, and for the first time Chen realized their prisoner was a female. She was not wearing a gold helmet like her companions, and her hair was cut in a short style that left her neck and her pointed ears exposed.

  “What?” said Konya. “Wasn’t everybody supposed to bring a guest to the party?”

  Cruzen waved a hand over her shoulder. “They’re all back there, sleeping it off.” She indicated the prisoner. “She makes seven. That’s all of them, Commander.”

  Stepping closer to the Romulan, Worf eyed her for a moment before saying, “You are the leader.” It was not a question. He pointed to an insignia on the Romulan’s uniform. “You carry the rank of subcommander. Your companions are all centurions, bound to follow your orders. What is your mission here?”

  Her expression one of loathing as she regarded Worf, the Romulan seemed to ignore the question and instead asked, “What is this? When did the Federation allow itself to be conquered by animals such as this? I know humans are weak, but I thought they possessed some self-respect, and would rather die than subjugate themselves to the Klingon Empire.”

  “You’re not from around here, are you?” asked Cruzen.

  The Romulan glared at her, but said nothing.

  “The lieutenant’s statement is crude, but accurate,” said Taurik. “At least, if what Nelidar told us is true.”

  Following the shift, Nelidar had reported that the planet found itself once again in the dimension the Sidrac designated as “location five,” which was music to Chen’s ears.

  We’re home again, but for how long?

  “Torture me as you will,” said the Romulan. “I will answer no questions.”

  Worf replied, “So long as you cooperate, you will not be harmed.”

  “I have no intention of doing that, either.”

  She moved with startling speed, lunging toward Worf with arms extended, her hands aiming for his throat. The Klingon moved with practiced ease, deflecting her attack. His arm wrapped around her neck as he pressed his free hand against the side of her head. Chen gasped at the sudden, unchecked brutality of the move, only then realizing that Worf was restraining himself. Instead of killing the Romulan, he had put her in a hold designed to induce unconsciousness. Fighting to break the hold, the Romulan’s hands grappled for purchase on Worf’s head and face, but even now her movements were becoming erratic as her strength flagged. Stepping forward, Taurik applied a nerve pinch, accelerating the process of incapacitating her. Her body went limp, and Worf waited an additional few seconds before lowering her to the floor and releasing his grip.

  “Thank you,” he said, nodding to Taurik.

  The Vulcan replied, “It seemed an efficient means of ending the confrontation.”

  Worf said, “Lieutenant Chen, speak with Nelidar and ask if there is a secure room we can use as a temporary brig.” He turned to Konya and Cruzen. “You will have to guard our guests. Secure their weapons and other equipment and keep them in a holding area until we receive instructions from Captain Picard.”

  “Contacting the Enterprise is not currently possible,” said Taurik. “The increased output of quantum energy from the field generator is continuing to interfere with our communications.”

  “And our phasers,” added Cruzen. She held up her disruptor. “These seem to work well enough.”

  Nodding, Worf replied, “For now they are sufficient. Our priority is contacting the ship.” He glanced around the area. “I for one have no wish to remain here any longer than is necessary, but if there is a way for us to help Nelidar and her people, we will need assistance from Commander La Forge and Lieutenant Elfiki.”

  “Any idea how long we might stay in this dimension before the planet shifts again?” asked Konya.

  Taurik replied, “Without further information, and until we can determine the scope of any damage that may have been caused by the Romulan attack on the field generator, I am unable to posit an answer to that question.”

  It was the thought that had been on all their minds since hearing from Nelidar that Ushalon had shifted back to their own dimension. Following the two rapid and violent transitions, the field generator was continuing to emit elevated levels of quantum energy, which implied that another shift could happen at any time. Had the attack from orbit somehow affected the equipment causing the shifts? Already compromised as a consequence of the accident that had plunged Ushalon into its headlong flight across dimensions, was the Sidrac’s situation now worsened? Chen sighed as she contemplated their plight.

  With their luck? Probably.

  18

  U.S.S. Enterprise-E

  Though it felt good to just lie down, and he knew he needed the rest, Geordi La Forge could not stay here. Others were counting on him. The captain was counting on him. He could rest later, but now? It was time to get back to work.

  “I know what you’re thinking, mister, and you can just forget it.”

  Lifting his head from the pillow of the sickbay bed he currently occupied, La Forge smiled at the sight of Tamala Harstad. Her hands in the pockets of the light-blue medical lab coat she wore over her uniform, she did not return his smile, and he knew the reason. She was in full “doctor mode” at the moment, concentrating on the patients in her care.

  “What?” he asked, affecting an innocent air.

&n
bsp; As Harstad moved to stand next to his bed, her expression communicated that she was not buying what he was attempting to sell. “I can see it in your face. I can see it in your body language. You want out of here.”

  “It’s that obvious?”

  “Maybe not to everyone.” For the first time, she allowed the first hint of a smile to tease her lips. “But not everyone knows you like I do.”

  La Forge glanced around sickbay, including the adjacent bed, where Lieutenant Dina Elfiki was doing her best to pretend she was not listening to the conversation. The science officer was failing in that regard, he decided.

  “I need to get back to work.” He almost appended that sentence with her first name, but caught himself. She was on duty, and she was overseeing patients, and it would not be fair at this moment to treat her as anything other than a professional colleague. “There’s a lot to do, and I need to be down there with my people.” He indicated the portable computer terminal that had been brought to him. “There’s only so much I can do from here.” He bent his right foot, then twisted it from side to side. There was a dull ache at the ankle, but nothing he could not handle. “I’m feeling pretty good.”

  “I want to check the bone knitting on your ankle one last time, and after that you should be free to go.” Harstad started to place her hand on his leg, then seemed to think better of it. “It was a clean break, but still tricky. I want to make sure there’s no loss of flexibility or range of motion.”

  La Forge smiled. “I trust your work, Doc. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

  Movement to his left attracted his attention, and he looked over to see Lieutenant Gary Weinrib standing in the doorway to the patient ward, as though waiting for permission to enter the room. La Forge knew the conn officer, but he had rare occasion to interact with him, as the lieutenant was assigned to gamma shift. However, everyone not otherwise occupied was being called into service to assist with the various repair efforts under way across the ship.