Headlong Flight

by Dayton Ward

  Riker asked, “So, the usual sort of problems?”

  The engineer nodded. “Pretty much, sir.”

  “What of the Romulans?” asked Worf.

  “I’d have to check the specs,” replied the Enterprise-E’s La Forge, “but I don’t think their navigational deflectors can project the kind of power we’d need. They’d basically be along for the ride.”

  Riker grunted in apparent amusement. “I’d love to hear their commander explain that to her superiors, and how us weak humans helped them.”

  Still processing what he had heard, Picard replied, “Captain Riker, your Enterprise would be at the greatest risk, given your role in Mister Crusher’s scenario. Once you’re separated from us, we would have no way to provide assistance.”

  “For the sake of everyone involved,” replied Riker, “I don’t see that we have much choice.” He glanced at the faces of his own officers. “Anybody else have a better idea given the available time and resources?” When no one offered a response, he turned back to Picard. “I say we do it, sir.”

  The captain realized that everyone in the room and on the screen was looking to him. Nodding in understanding, he offered a small, knowing smile.

  “Make it so.”

  24

  ChR Bloodied Talon

  Even with her back to her subordinates as she studied the human captain on the viewscreen, Sarith could feel their eyes upon her. She sensed their skepticism, their uncertainty, and even their fear. It was hard to find fault with the conflicted emotions that had to be plaguing them. As soldiers, they had been trained—conditioned—to believe that the Federation was the enemy. Its aims were in direct opposition to the goal of all Romulan people to secure the Empire’s borders and to protect its interests while expanding ever outward its sphere of influence. The Federation, young Romulans were told, was a threat to the prosperity due to every citizen of the Empire.

  And now here Sarith stood, ready to accept aid from a Federation’s representative.

  “What we are proposing is dangerous, Commander,” said Captain Picard over the communications link. “Timing will be critical, and it’s very possible that additional damage may be inflicted upon all our vessels. While your warship can likely withstand the strain these maneuvers may inflict, my engineers are not as certain about your smaller escort vessels. As they are incapable of landing on the planet, you might well consider relocating their crews to your ship until you transition to your proper dimension.”

  It went against her training and everything she had come to regard as truth, but Sarith wanted to believe this human. His every word, and the tone of his voice, elicited that faith. Was it all an act? Could Picard be manipulating her? As she had discussed with Ineti, that notion made little sense. The Starfleet captain already possessed the power to destroy her ships. There was no need for him to waste time with such an elaborate deception.

  “What part would we play in this exercise?”

  Picard replied, “Your vessels have sustained damage and are underpowered for the energy demands required to be an active participant in this, Commander. However, monitoring of the process will be necessary to ensure your ships make the transition. The idea is to have some control over the process, rather than simply being caught up in it in the manner that brought you here. To that end, you may need to make adjustments in your orbit or in the communications stream you will be maintaining with the quantum-field generator down on the planet.”

  Looking over her shoulder to where Subcommander Variel stood at her science station, Sarith asked, “Does this make sense to you?”

  “Yes, Commander. I have studied the information transmitted by his engineer and science officer.” She drew herself to her full height. “I believe I can do what is required.”

  Even Variel trusts this human.

  Sarith found that surprising, given her science officer’s often militant stance against the Federation, its allies, and most especially its Starfleet. That Variel seemed convinced of Picard’s sincerity was remarkable.

  “What about relocating the escort crews to our ship?” asked Ineti, who had moved to stand next to Sarith. “Does that sound correct?”

  After considering the question for a moment, the subcommander replied, “Though all three of our ships came through the initial transition without significant damage, the subsequent skirmish with the Starfleet ships has had a greater impact on our ability to withstand another shift. We are operating at compromised power levels, which will affect our shields and other critical systems.”

  Sarith did not really want to discuss the vulnerability of her ships with an adversary listening over an open communications channel, but she suspected none of this was information Picard did not already possess. There likely was no point worrying about such things. As had already been demonstrated, the Talon and her escorts were outmatched by either of the Starfleet vessels, let alone both. Attempts to scan the ships had been fruitless, owing to jamming techniques her engineers had been unable to circumvent. Because of that, Sarith would be unable to glean any information about either vessel for her superiors and perhaps warn them, and even the praetor, about the advances in starship design Starfleet would be developing in the years to come.

  “There is another alternative, Commander,” said Ineti, eyeing Sarith.

  He did not have to say anything further for her to know what he meant. Arming the Talon’s self-destruct mechanism was a thought to which she had already given consideration. That, at least, would be in keeping with standard regulations when it came to interactions with an enemy. If a vessel was incapacitated or otherwise in danger of being seized, it was the commander’s responsibility to prevent that action at all costs. The directives on this were quite clear, with severe penalties imposed on officers who failed to carry out their sworn duty.

  Did her crew deserve such a fate, as a consequence of being caught up in a situation as bizarre as the one they now faced?

  No.

  “We will not be pursuing that course,” she said. Turning back to the viewscreen, she regarded Picard. “Very well, Captain. We will proceed as you have advised.”

  Seemingly satisfied, the human nodded. “Excellent. Time is short, Commander, and there are some preparations to be made. My chief engineer will communicate the final instructions. If all goes to plan, you will all be home in short order.”

  What would happen after that? Assuming Sarith and her crew survived what was to come and were returned to their own dimension, only she would face whatever punishment might arise from her failure to obey protocol. Ineti might endure reprisals for not relieving her of command, but Sarith doubted it. He was too well respected within the establishment and had more than enough friends within the halls of power willing to protect him. As for the rest of her crew, they would be spared, their actions viewed as obeying the officers appointed over them.

  And that is sufficient.

  Ushalon

  They were as ready as they were ever going to be.

  “That should do it,” said Geordi La Forge. Stepping back from the portable computer terminal he had brought with him from the shuttlecraft Jefferies and that now occupied a worktable in the Sidrac habitat’s observation room, he closed his eyes, rubbing his temples. “All that’s left is to light this thing and see what happens.”

  Working at an adjacent terminal, Data replied, “That is an interesting choice of words, Geordi, considering that a malfunction during the deployment of the torpedo would likely result in a massive explosion.”

  “It loses something in the translation.” Sighing, La Forge massaged his neck. Still dressed in his environmental suit, he was growing uncomfortable. He had considered dispensing with the garment, but he did not want to waste any portion of what might end up being a very narrow window of time fumbling with the suit. That would only impede their exit from the Sidrac habitat and back to the Jefferies, or in D
ata’s case the Justman, the shuttlecraft from the Enterprise-D he had flown down to the surface.

  “La Forge to Enterprise,” he said, speaking into his suit’s communicator.

  Captain Picard replied, “Go ahead, Commander.”

  “We’re ready to go, sir. We can throw the switch at any time if everybody’s ready up there.” Having sent the rest of the away team back to the ship, he and Data were the only ones from either Enterprise who remained on the surface.

  “The Enterprise-D and the Romulans are standing by,” said Picard. There was a pause before the captain added, “Commander, I would prefer you were not on the surface at the time of detonation.”

  This had already been a topic of discussion even prior to the final preparations, and La Forge had made his case that it was important for him to be on site and ready to assist Nelidar and her people in the event the transphasic pulse introduced unintended side effects to the quantum-­field generator or the power plant. While the device itself was deployed within the underground facility and near the boundary of the uncontrolled quantum field, it was here in the observation room that the detonation would be carried out.

  “Assuming this works and the Sidrac regain control of the generator, Captain, they’ll likely be dealing with any number of diagnostics and adjustments. I’d like to stay at least long enough to make sure they’ve got a handle on everything. After all, whatever happens next will be our fault.” Though there was momentary silence over the open channel, La Forge was sure he could hear Picard mulling over what he had just heard.

  Finally, Picard said, “All right, Geordi, but not a minute longer. If we have to move fast, I don’t want you down there.”

  “Understood, sir. La Forge out.” The communication ended, and he turned to where Nelidar and Livak were waiting along with a handful of other Sidrac engineers and scientists. Each of them was regarding him and Data, and he saw no fear in their piercing blue eyes, but rather anticipation.

  “I think we’re ready,” he said.

  Nelidar nodded. “As are we.”

  “The quantum energy readings are continuing to rise,” said Livak, and La Forge heard the edge in his voice. “I suspect we do not have much time.”

  “Then I guess we should get on with it.” Once more he engaged his suit’s communicator. “La Forge to Taurik. How’s it looking up there?”

  “Taurik here, Commander. Our configurations are complete and we are standing by. The deflector can be brought online at your command, sir.” Taurik had returned to the Enterprise along with the rest of the away team and was now overseeing engineering and the employment of the starship’s main deflector array.

  La Forge said, “That’s it.” He nodded to Nelidar. “It’s your generator and your planet, so I think you should have the final say.”

  Glancing first to her colleagues, Nelidar replied, “Regardless of what happens, we want to thank you, Commander.” She looked to Data. “Thank you both, for everything. The extraordinary lengths to which you and your people have gone to help us will not be forgotten.”

  Now feeling self-conscious in the face of praise that might end up being premature, La Forge cleared his throat. “Well, there’s no sense waiting.” He turned to Data. “Ready?”

  Having returned to his own portable workstation, the android nodded. “I am ready.”

  “Let’s do it.” Stepping closer to his computer terminal, La Forge said into his communicator, “Taurik?”

  “Standing by, Commander.”

  Satisfied that there was nothing left to do, La Forge said, “All right. Counting down from five.”

  Here goes nothing.

  He could not help the lone, taunting thought as he counted down, his finger hovering over the highlighted control he had designated for this task. “Two. One. Activating.” His finger pressed the key.

  The result was immediate, almost too fast for the terminal’s display screen to keep up. La Forge watched the computer-generated representation of the transphasic torpedo’s detonation process scroll on the screen, as within the space of milliseconds the device’s compression pulse generator scanned the quantum field, analyzing the energy readings and formulating a proper feedback frequency. It took less than two seconds for the torpedo to complete its calculations and execute its programmed response.

  There was no explosion, no dull thump or any other audible sign that the weapon had detonated. Instead, every light and console and display screen around the room was plunged into momentary darkness. La Forge even heard the sound of the air circulation system fading along with all of the equipment. Only the two Starfleet portable terminals, shielded from the effects of the torpedo, were spared. Without any other source of ambient sound, his own breathing along with that of the Sidrac seemed to pound in his ears. He started counting, knowing from Nelidar’s briefing that in the event of main power failure, a battery-powered backup system would engage, starting with the most critical systems and expanding from there.

  Instead, everything simultaneously flared back to life. The lights were first, eradicating the darkness an instant before the various workstations and computer banks reactivated. Even the dull hum of the air system was welcome, but it was quickly drowned out by the shrill chorus of multiple alerts erupting from the different consoles. Livak was the first of the Sidrac to resume his work, and was already examining his instruments.

  “Main power is still online,” he reported. “There was an interruption in the power distribution network, but everything now appears to be in order. Life-support systems are functioning throughout the habitat.”

  “What about the field generator?” asked Nelidar.

  Data said, “The transphasic pulse was deployed as expected.” He tapped a series of commands into his portable terminal. “The quantum-field generator is currently operating in a standby mode. The field itself has dissipated.”

  “He is correct.” Livak looked up from his console, his expression brightening. “Quantum energy readings are at minimum levels. No signs of spiking, and we are once more receiving updates from all of our status monitors inside the generator complex.” His eyes wide, the Sidrac smiled. “The pulse was successful.” His last statement evoked a round of cheers along with a few sighs of relief from his companions around the room. La Forge could feel the tension of the past hours already beginning to ebb.

  “Enterprise,” he said into his communicator. “Are you getting this?”

  “Indeed we are, Commander,” replied Picard. “Well done.”

  “As anticipated, the reactor’s power levels are not holding,” said Data. “Power output is at sixty-eight percent and falling.”

  “This is Commander Taurik. We are initiating the interface with the power reactor’s power distribution network. Activating main deflector . . . now.”

  A noticeable increase in the lighting and the low hum of some of the equipment accompanied the Vulcan’s announcement. La Forge could see on Data’s terminal that the power transfer was already having a positive effect.

  The android said, “Power levels have risen to eighty-one percent. I predict that the Enterprise will be able to achieve an increase to ninety-three percent, but it will be able to sustain that level for a maximum of eleven point four minutes before Commander Taurik will be forced to deactivate the deflector.”

  “That’ll have to do,” replied La Forge. Conscious of the time constraints, he turned to Nelidar and Livak, who, along with the rest of the Sidrac, seemed to be moving about the room in a sort of trance as they gripped one another’s hands and offered embraces. There was an air of relief permeating the group, and while he could understand it, celebration would have to wait.

  “Livak,” he said. “Are you able to create a new field with the correct quantum signatures?”

  Returning to his console, the Sidrac engineer nodded. “Yes, Commander. As we discussed, I am making the calculations f
or target location three. That should be completed momentarily.”

  “All right, Geordi,” said Picard over the open comm channel. “That’s it. Time for you and Mister Data to return home.”

  “Aye, Captain. We’re on our way.”

  Retrieving the last of their equipment as they readied to return to their respective shuttlecraft for the flights back to their ships, La Forge and Data moved from the observation room to the airlock entrance. They were escorted by Nelidar, who was flanked by the rest of her fellow Sidrac.

  “We cannot ever repay our debt to you,” she said.

  La Forge smiled as he prepared to don his suit helmet. “Well, we’re not there just yet. That’s what the next step is for.”

  Nelidar gestured upward. “Then you certainly must go. We cannot allow you to risk being trapped in our dimension or whatever final destination awaits us.”

  “You’ll make it home,” replied the engineer. “I can feel it.”

  Turning to Data, La Forge saw the android regarding him with that same placid expression that had been so ubiquitous during their time on the Enterprise-D. Was it really so long ago, before Data had installed the chip developed by his creator, Doctor Noonien Soong, and gained access to the full range of human emotional responses? Here and now, it was just his friend as he had been during their first meeting, and how La Forge often chose to remember him.

  “I wish we had more time,” he said. There definitely would be none once they were outside the habitat and on their way to their shuttles.

  Data nodded. “As do I.” He extended his hand. “It is good to know that you are alive and well in this dimension as well as my own.”

  Taking the android’s hand in both of his, La Forge felt a small lump forming in his throat. “Same here. Good luck.”

  “To all of us, my friend.”

  25

  U.S.S. Enterprise-E