by Dayton Ward
Taurik nodded. “Yes, at least so far as my readings indicate.”
Motioning for them to follow her, Nelidar led the way down the tunnel. As the passage leveled, they found the airlock permitting access to this level of the complex. Nelidar was first inside, and once the large hatch was sealed, she and the away team were able to remove their suit helmets.
“Finally,” said Konya.
Placing her helmet on one of two shelves set into the bulkhead, Chen asked, “Any sign of our friends?”
His attention once more on his tricorder, Taurik replied, “Twenty meters ahead, at the end of the service corridor leading to the quantum-field generator.”
Opting not to remove their environmental suits, the away team moved through the airlock’s inner hatch and into another passageway, which Chen saw was wider than the tunnel leading to the surface, with five smaller connecting corridors burrowing into the surrounding rock. Metal panels painted in colors different from the walls suggested access conduits or other workspaces for the Sidrac engineers, and Chen noted a few display screens and workstations set into the bulkheads.
Worf took over leading the group, leaving Nelidar to follow the Klingon with Chen at her side as he advanced farther along the tunnel, which proceeded for several meters before ending at sharp bend. Pausing at the junction, Worf glanced around the corner, then directed his gaze to the rest of the team. With his free hand, he held up two fingers, indicating he had spotted their adversaries. Then he pointed to Chen.
Me? Oh, hell.
Without waiting for her to indicate a response, Worf turned and stepped into the corridor. Chen followed, and saw two Romulans, each dressed in charcoal-gray environmental suits with their helmet faceplates raised, standing before one of the open wall panels. They were working on something that was blocked from her view. What did attract her attention was the large pressure hatch at the room’s far end. Manufactured from some kind of polished metal, the circular hatch was embedded into the stone. It featured a pair of visible hinges, indicating the door opened outward, toward them. Both the door and its surrounding wall lay behind a shimmering curtain of iridescent energy. Everything beyond the barrier wavered and rippled.
The away team’s presence did not go unnoticed. Both Romulans reacted to the new arrivals by moving away from the wall panel with disruptors drawn. Konya was the first to react, firing at one of the soldiers. The disruptor bolt caught the Romulan in the side, spinning him around until he slammed face-first into the metal bulkhead. Though the soldier’s companion was able to get off a badly aimed shot, Worf stunned him with his disruptor.
“Is that the quantum field?” asked Konya, pointing toward the door.
Nelidar replied, “Yes, but it is . . . larger than during our previous visit. The last time we inspected the complex, the barrier was inside the door.”
“The energy readings are showing a definite increase,” said Taurik. “There also appears to be a localized interruption in the complex’s power distribution network.”
Chen pointed to the open access panel several meters from the barrier. “What were the Romulans doing?” She followed Nelidar, who had also seen the signs of obvious tampering. The Sidrac engineer examined the conduit’s interior before pointing to a dark metallic object.
“I do not recognize this component.”
Before Chen could move for a closer look, Taurik’s voice boomed across the room.
“Everyone back! Now!”
There was no time to question, or to argue, and Taurik was offering no information. Instead, he simply grabbed Chen and Nelidar by their arms and pulled them away from the panel, shoving them in the direction of the nearest tunnel. Chen found herself counting seconds as the away team scrambled for cover, making it to six before the explosion.
22
ChR Bloodied Talon
“Retreat, surrender, or die. Those are our options, Commander.”
Sitting at her command station on the bridge, Sarith heard Subcommander Ineti’s words but chose not to remark on them. She opened her mouth, relaxing muscles and alleviating the dull ache in her teeth from where she had been clenching her jaw. Her eyes stung from the smoke that permeated the air and resisted the valiant effort of the atmospheric scrubbers. The odor of burned wiring and insulation assailed her nostrils, and the tension of the past several hours had now asserted itself as a throbbing pain across the top of her head. She ignored all of that. Her personal discomfort mattered little to her just now. The only thing of importance was her ship and her crew, for which the fates of both now rested in her hands.
“What is the latest damage assessment?” she asked.
Ineti replied, “Our primary propulsion is still undergoing repairs. Jacius informs me that it will be well into the next duty shift before he can offer a proper estimate on the drive’s return. The hull breach in section four has been contained, and a crew has been dispatched outside to seal the rupture. Their repairs should be sufficient until we can reach a support base.”
“I suspect there will be no such journey in our future, my old friend.”
Frowning, Ineti said, “As you observed earlier, the Starfleet ships appear in no rush to move in and finish us off. They certainly possess the advantage, do they not? What is stopping them, beyond their vaunted principles?”
“The planet, obviously.” Sarith pushed herself away from her seat and turned to the central hub. “They have people on the surface, and the alien technology attracts their attention as much as ours.”
“For vastly different reasons, no doubt,” said Ineti.
Sarith shook her head. “Do not be so sure. Despite constantly espousing its desire to explore the stars in peace, the Federation is well aware that its long-term security and prosperity is dependent upon the allies and resources they find along the way. We know from our past dealings with them that they are more than capable of exploiting a tactical advantage and setting aside their dubious notions of morality in order to assure victory. That is the humans’ dark secret, even if most of them are unwilling to admit it even to themselves.”
She had heard the stories, passed down from those who had engaged the humans and their allies during the Great War. Though many from Earth waded into that conflict with some sense of honor and even decency, there were those who were content to cast aside such notions in the heat of battle. It was an all too familiar refrain in any war. A rational mind might think that those unpleasant realities would discourage the practice of war and instead inspire a greater struggle for peace, but such thinking often was in short supply once the fighting started.
“Still no contact from our surface teams?” asked Sarith.
Ineti sighed. “No. We lost track of the second shuttle within moments of deploying it. We are not able to verify that it made it to its intended target, due to interference with our scans.” He glanced around the room. “Then we had larger concerns.”
“Of which I am aware.” It had been Sarith’s decision to dispatch a second shuttle to the immense facility generating power for the surface and subterranean complex. She had hoped her team might secure some piece of technology or information that could be delivered to her superiors if not the praetor himself, perhaps as a prize that might one day be used against their Federation adversaries. Had her people met with success or failure? Were they even still alive, or had they been captured? Assuming the Earth captain was being truthful during one of his annoying, relentless attempts at communication, the first centurions she had sent to the surface were now prisoners of the Starfleet landing party.
“Continue our attempts to reach the shuttles,” said Sarith.
Ineti nodded. “Of course.”
“Commander,” said Centurion Skerius, turning from the communications station, “we are being hailed again by the Starfleet captain.”
Ineti offered a humorless grin. “The human is persistent.”
&n
bsp; “A common trait among their species.” Sarith turned to Skerius. “Ignore it.”
“Forgive me, Commander,” said the centurion, “but this message is different. The human is offering assistance not just with our repairs, but also in seeing us safely returned home.” He paused, looking first to Sarith and then Ineti. “Some of what he says, I do not understand.”
Sarith looked to Ineti. “Interesting.”
“He could be lying,” replied the subcommander.
“But to what end? He can already destroy us if he so chooses.” Moving to the display screen set aside for intership communications, she said to Skerius, “Open the frequency.”
The screen activated, its image coalescing into that of a human male wearing a type of black-and-gray uniform she did not recognize. It was quite different from the more colorful variations she had seen depicted in recent intelligence reports. Behind the human, Sarith saw a small number of officers occupying workstations, but they and the rest of what must be the starship’s bridge were far more advanced—even luxurious—than anything she had ever seen.
“Romulan vessels, I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation Starship Enterprise. We renew our offers to assist you with your repairs and casualties, and we have no interest in further aggressive action.”
Sarith replied, “How can I trust you, Captain Picard?”
“Because you’re still here, talking to me.”
There was no bravado in the human’s voice, no attempt at asserting superiority. He had made the comment as a declaration of simple fact. That he was correct only served to further aggravate Sarith, but she schooled her features so as to offer no reaction.
“Fair enough. How do you know you can trust me?”
“I don’t. On that subject, further acts of aggression are not necessary. That includes your sending people to the surface. Their actions have placed the planet’s inhabitants and my people in danger, which I will not tolerate any longer.” He held her gaze for a moment before his expression softened. “Commander, we can stand here all day posturing, but by now you should have realized that you are rather outmatched. Instead, we should be working together to accomplish something that may be of some importance to you: getting you home.”
Forcing herself to maintain her fixed expression, Sarith said, “We may be injured, Captain, but we are not crippled. Romulan space is not out of our reach.”
“That much is true, but what you apparently don’t seem to realize is that it’s not your Romulan space.”
He stopped himself again, and Sarith’s instincts told her he was considering how his next words might be received. Then, as if reaching some decision, he stepped closer to the screen.
“If you’ve been monitoring the planet that seems to have captured all our interests, then you know it’s been subjected to a series of interdimensional shifts that have seen it propelled between several different parallel realities. What you may not realize, Commander, is that you also have been pulled from your own dimension, and deposited into mine.”
“That’s impossible,” said Sarith. This was fantasy; a fiction concocted by the human captain as a bid to distract her.
And yet . . .
She turned to Darjil at the sensor station and saw his own expression of shock and disbelief. “Is what he says true? Can it be true?”
“I . . . I do not know, Commander.” There was no mistaking the centurion’s fear and uncertainty. “We have never encountered anything like this phenomenon before. I am not a scientist. I do not even know how to make such a determination.”
Stepping forward, Ineti said, “Subcommander Variel is the one who could speak to such matters.”
Sarith frowned. And she is on the surface. What a fool I have been. All this time?
“Each dimension has a unique quantum signature,” said Picard. “That signature can be detected at the subatomic level of anyone or anything. It can be used to identify a person or object that has moved from one dimension to another. Scans of your vessels show that your quantum signature is different from this dimension, and further still from the planet we’re orbiting.”
Was it possible? If not, then why would this human go to such lengths to perpetrate a ruse?
On the screen, Picard motioned to Ineti. “If I overheard your crewman correctly, you have someone who can verify what I’m telling you. I would suggest allowing that individual to do so.”
What should she do? Admitting that her science officer was down on the planet and already in the custody of Picard’s subordinates might show weakness, an inability to stand on even footing with this human. However, any attempt at deceit would likely be short-lived.
Still, there was something about this man that compelled trust.
“That would be Subcommander Variel,” she said after a moment. “At last report, she was on the planet’s surface. Your people have taken her prisoner.”
“I will arrange for you to communicate with your people, Commander, and to have them returned safely to you.” To her surprise, Picard smiled. “I suspect she will be of some value to all of us, particularly if you wish to return your people home.”
Ushalon
“As explosions go, there are worse ones to be caught in.”
Chen held up her tricorder as she stepped closer to the scorched, tattered section of bulkhead where the access panel had been. Within the blackened hole that had been enlarged through violent means thanks to the improvised explosive, she regarded the conduit’s blackened and metal innards. The blast from the makeshift device had not been large, though still powerful enough to propel shrapnel across the room, and she gave silent thanks once again for Taurik’s fast thinking in pushing her and Nelidar down a connecting passageway and out of danger before the detonation.
“The power readings for the quantum field are holding steady,” reported Taurik over the open communications frequency. “Whether that is a fortunate outcome remains to be seen.”
According to an inspection conducted by Nelidar and Taurik, since verified by the status monitors in the observation center and now Chen’s tricorder, destroying a power distribution node outside the barrier created by the quantum field had not adversely affected the energy levels. The field itself remained in place, though Taurik had detected a noticeable spike in the readings as the field generator apparently compensated for the breach in the power distribution network.
“What do we do now?” asked Chen.
Taurik replied, “For the moment, we will continue monitoring the situation while Commander La Forge and Lieutenant Elfiki finalize their preparations. Taurik out.”
The connection severed, Chen turned to stare at the oblong black cylinder, resting on an antigravity sled, that was the object of those preparations. Even like this, largely inert and with its access panels opened to expose its inner workings, she was still able to appreciate its power.
“These things always give me the creeps.”
Having removed his environmental suit’s gloves in order to facilitate his work, Geordi La Forge stood at the opposite end of the transphasic torpedo, his hands working inside the weapon’s housing. “Well, try flying down here with one strapped to the deck behind you.” He sighed. “That’s not something I’m eager to try again.”
Despite the quantum energy readings that had been much less severe than those experienced by the original away team, they still were sufficient to give La Forge and Elfiki a rough ride as they descended from orbit aboard the shuttlecraft Jefferies.
“At least your landing was smoother,” said Chen.
The chief engineer could not help a small grin. “Fair enough.” He pulled his left hand from the torpedo’s open access panel, and Chen saw that he held a green isolinear optical chip between his thumb and forefinger. “On the other hand, nothing says we’ll be able to take off without getting smacked around. This is a long way from being over.”
“Stay out of his head, T’Rys,” said Dina Elfiki. “We don’t want him getting distracted and blowing up half the planet.”
La Forge paused, eyeing the science officer. “That’s not really helping, either.”
“Sorry.”
Setting the chip next to the tricorder and work satchel he had brought with him from the surface, the chief engineer said, “Don’t worry. We’re dropping this thing’s compression pulse generator to its minimum output level. The effect will basically be a beefed-up electromagnetic pulse, and we don’t want to be anywhere near this thing when it goes off.”
“Good tip,” said Chen. She was only partially familiar with the inner workings of the advanced weapon. The transphasic torpedo functioned unlike conventional missile-based weapons in that it delivered a subspace compression pulse that was transmitted across a spectrum of phase states. This allowed the torpedo’s destructive power to overcome most varieties of deflector shield technology, including those that operated on their own subsets of nutational frequency modulation. Chen knew that the key to the weapon’s performance was the component that generated a random dissonant feedback frequency that could not be easily predicted, let alone defended against. It was this feature of the transphasic technology that had made it such an effective weapon against the Borg.
But even they adapted to it, eventually.
Chen had skimmed the torpedo’s specifications even as La Forge and Elfiki were on the Enterprise, replicating the components needed to construct one. There had been precious little time to do so, between assisting Worf, Konya, and Cruzen with escorting their Romulan prisoners to their one functioning shuttle. Captain Picard had ordered their release, and the commander of the Romulan ship had agreed that there would be no more trouble here on the surface. Chen had completed another quick review of the weapon’s technical schematics after the Enterprise-E’s chief engineer and science officer delivered the device to the planet’s surface and down to this work space within the subterranean complex, even as other members of the engineering team worked to repair the shuttlecraft Spinrad so that it could be returned to the ship. That they had brought with them Data from the Enterprise-D was something of a surprise, but his help in preparing the torpedo for deployment had been invaluable. As with everyone else, he also wore a standard Starfleet environmental suit, sans helmet and gloves.
