by Dayton Ward
On the main viewscreen, Komack said, “As part of a cultural outreach program, Federation specialists have been working with Valzhan scholars to learn more about their planet’s long and quite colorful history. Here at Starfleet Command, a team of stellar cartographers began tracking the course of a generation ship the Valzhan launched more than four hundred years ago, and they’re trying to ascertain where it might have ended up.” Pausing for a moment, the admiral leaned forward and rested his forearms on his desk, his craggy features staring out from the viewer. “Based on telemetry received in the years before the Valzhan’s global war caused them to shift their priorities to that of simple survival, a probable trajectory for the ship has been determined.”
“Don’t tell me,” Okagawa said.
As if knowing how his briefing would be received by those listening to it, Komack nodded and offered a knowing smile. “That’s right, you guessed it: the Delta Triangle. Now, the Valzhan understand that we’ve deemed the area a hazard to navigation and that entry to and from the rift, if it’s even possible, will be highly restricted. However, a review of the Enterprise’s sensor logs during its encounter with the rift shows the presence of a vessel that looks to be of Valzhan design, and their planetary government is requesting our assistance to confirm the ship’s existence and to make contact with any Valzhan who might still be alive in the Triangle.”
Komack paused again, and this time his expression turned more serious. “Ambassador Robert Fox, the lead diplomat who brought the Valzhan to the Federation in the first place, is very enthusiastic about this idea and has promised Starfleet’s full cooperation. As you can probably imagine, a lot of eyes are on you. Good luck to you and your crews. Komack out.”
The message ended, and the image on the viewscreen reverted to that of empty space, and for several moments al-Khaled heard nothing save the chorus of background sound generated by the bridge’s different workstations as well as the omnipresent thrum of the Lovell’s engines. Looking around, he noted the variety of expressions on the faces of the bridge crew, from the usual neutral aloofness offered by zh’Rhun to the furrowed brow of Captain Okagawa as he considered Komack’s message, to the uncharacteristic enthusiasm brightening Xav’s rounded features.
“How exciting,” the Tellarite said as he turned from his science console, and al-Khaled noted that even his normally caustic expression had brightened at the thought of the new challenge Komack had issued. “Searching for long-lost brothers and sisters has such a romantic, adventurous appeal, does it not?”
Okagawa said, “While I can’t help but share your zeal, Lieutenant, you can be sure that Ambassador Fox has no interest in romance and adventure. Considering the importance of establishing a Federation presence in the Valzhan system that close to the Klingon border, you can bet he’ll be watching us like the proverbial hawk.”
Of that, al-Khaled had no doubt. Fox’s reputation as a no-nonsense diplomat was long renowned, as was his lack of tolerance for Starfleet, particularly when achieving his goals was made more difficult by something they did or failed to do. With that in mind, the engineer gave silent thanks to whatever cosmic forces had conspired to keep the ambassador from being on hand to watch over this mission personally. Small favors, and all that, he mused.
“Well,” zh’Rhun said as she stepped closer to the railing separating the upper bridge deck from the command well, “at least this falls closer to the types of missions we are supposed to be assigned. A salvage operation is infinitely more desirable than deploying navigational markers.”
“That’s the spirit, Commander,” Okagawa replied, smiling. “When I was a boy, I used to read and wonder about various ships that had gone missing over the years. Ares IV, the Hawking, the Mariposa. To think that any of those, and so many others, might be somewhere out here, just waiting for someone to find them.” He shook his head. “Fascinating stuff.”
Al-Khaled agreed, remembering a similar interest in such stories from his own childhood. Such tales were scattered throughout not only Federation history but also among that of just about any other spacefaring race that came to mind. On many of the occasions where a wayward vessel had been found, the discovery had been a grim one, with no heroic tales of survival in the face of overwhelming odds to honor the crews of the ships.
Could this time be different?
Besides, Commander zh’Rhun was right. Salvaging a lost or damaged vessel was more interesting than laying out a network of warning buoys. It was also right in line with the types of missions to which the Corps of Engineers typically was assigned, and when compared to tunneling through a moon or asteroid, building a colony, or repairing a remote starbase or space station, there was simply no contest.
When he realized he had allowed his mind to wander, al-Khaled looked up to see Okagawa regarding him as if he might be reading the younger man’s mind.
“Yes,” the captain said, “I think we might just have an interesting mission on our hands.” He turned toward the communications station. “Ensign Pzial, hail the T’Saura. I think it’s time for us to have a little chat with Captain Sivok.”
Al-Khaled had met his share of Vulcans over the years, and with few exceptions all of them sported the same neutral, stoic demeanor for which the proud, almost regal race had long been known. Captain Sivok, as far as the engineer could see, fit the typical mold.
“Our sensor scans of the region support the hypothesis of the Enterprise’s science officer,” Sivok said, “and show that an interdimensional rift does exist in this area of space, perhaps leading to an alternate universe. This rift appears to be protected by an energy barrier that is the source of the disruption in most shipboard systems reported by the Enterprise, notably sensors and propulsion.”
Occupying the position at one end of the angled conference table that was the dominant feature of the Lovell’s main briefing room, the Vulcan captain sat ramrod straight in his chair, with his hands clasped together in front him, and his two forefingers extended and joined at the tips. To his right sat Lieutenant Commander Curtis Danhauser, the T’Saura’s science officer. Rounding out the attendees in the small room were Okagawa, Xav, and al-Khaled.
“Commander Danhauser,” Okagawa said, “one of your reports also stated that you believe this barrier to be in a constant state of flux, which might explain why some ships can safely navigate the Triangle while others become trapped inside the rift.”
The young man nodded. “That’s correct, sir. Based on the sensor data we’ve collected, there are a handful of areas where the energy levels appear weaker than in the rest of the barrier. My best guess right now is that the ships that became trapped inside the rift passed through the field at one of these points.”
Leaning forward in his chair and resting his forearms on the conference table, al-Khaled said, “From what I read of Commander Spock’s report, the energy discharges the Enterprise’s sensors detected from outside the rift could have been caused by the reactions of these weak areas when they come into contact with normal space. He’s also quite certain that this is the cause of the energy drain on a ship once it’s trapped inside the rift.”
Danhauser replied, “We think it has something to do with an incompatibility between the barrier and the energy generated by dilithium crystals in a ship’s warp drive.” He paused, looking up as the doors to the briefing room opened before returning his attention to al-Khaled. “Of course, it’s a theory we can’t really test until we find a way to pass back and forth through the barrier.” Sighing in mild frustration, he added, “Bit of a vicious circle, isn’t it?”
“Maybe not.”
The officers at the table turned at the sound of the new voice, its deep resonating tone instantly commanding the notice of everyone in the room.
“Captain Sivok,” Okagawa said, indicating the new arrival with a wave of his hand, “allow me to introduce my chief engineer, Lieutenant Commander Moves-With-Burning-Grace. He also doubles as second-in-command to Mr. al-Khaled for our team from the
Corps of Engineers.”
Tall and possessing a lean yet muscled physique, smooth mahogany skin, and rugged features made even more prominent by his baldness, Grace was an imposing man, at least as far as al-Khaled was concerned. In keeping with his people’s culture, swaths of red paint, their hue nearly matching that of his uniform tunic, adorned his cheeks and forehead as well as the top and sides of his hairless scalp, around which he also wore a thin blue headband.
Nodding in formal greeting to the T’Saura’s captain and science officer, Grace then said, “I apologize for the interruption, Captain, but I have been studying the information sent to us by Commander Danhauser, and I believe I may have a suggestion that will allow us to safely enter and exit the Triangle.”
“Then your arrival is no interruption at all, Mr. Grace,” Okagawa said. “What’ve you found?”
By way of reply, the chief engineer took the unoccupied chair to the captain’s left and pressed a control on the small pad set into the table near his right arm. In response to this action, the three-sided viewscreen in the center of the table flared to life and displayed a computer schematic illustrating a Constitution-class starship and a Klingon D7 battle cruiser, joined together by way of their secondary hulls. “According to the reports submitted by the Enterprise, the breakdown in the crystalline structure of their dilithium was a cumulative effect. This meant the Enterprise and the Klingon ship it partnered with still possessed enough power in their respective crystals to mount a joint venture to escape the rift.”
Another tap of the control pad produced what al-Khaled recognized as a technical schematic of the Lovell. “I believe that if we introduce a more tightly focused nutation cycle in our deflector shields, and channel power to the shield generators directly from the warp engines, we can produce sufficient energy for the shields to protect against contamination of the dilithium crystals.”
“It is an intriguing notion,” Sivok said. “However, given what we know of the field’s effects and how rapidly it appears to drain the power systems of a wide variety of spaceships inside the Triangle, this would seem to be nothing more than a temporary solution.”
Nodding in agreement, Grace said, “It’s not intended as a permanent fix, but by my calculations, we should be able to protect ourselves for nearly ten hours, as long as we do not overly tax our onboard systems.” Looking to Captain Okagawa, he added, “That would mean no high-speed travel while inside the rift, and only limited use of weapons.”
“Well, considering what Captain Kirk reported about the people living in there,” Danhauser replied, “that shouldn’t be a problem. Some of the residents possess psionic powers, which they use to neutralize all weapons within the rift.”
“Channeling power to the deflector shield generators directly from the warp engines is not a conventional use for either system,” Captain Sivok said. “One must ask what led you to devise such a scheme, Commander Grace.”
The engineer smiled. “My previous assignment was on Earth, as a member of the design team for the proposed upgrades to the Constitution-class ships. One of the proposals put forth by some of the civilian engineers was the idea of channeling phaser power from the warp engines in order to increase their power.” Shrugging, he added, “I do not agree with the idea, mostly because I’ve been in enough situations where our engines were offline and yet we needed our weapons. Still, the concept struck me as having certain limited uses, such as what I’m proposing here.”
“Don’t let Mr. Grace’s modesty fool you, Captain,” Okagawa said. “Before joining us and before his stint on Earth, he served on three other ships, including a tour on the Enterprise under Christopher Pike. He’s the latest in a long line of great engineers, and he’s forgotten more about what makes a starship go than most people will ever know.”
And lucky for me this is where he ended up, al-Khaled reminded himself.
“So,” he said, nodding in satisfaction at Grace’s proposal, “how long to get this done?”
“Engineering to bridge,” the voice of the Lovell’s chief engineer echoed over the intercom system. “We’ve completed our modifications to the shield generators, Captain. We can proceed at your discretion.”
From where he sat at the engineering station behind and to the left of the captain, al-Khaled watched as Okagawa glanced at the chronometer set into the console between the helm and navigator’s stations in front of him, then shook his head and released a soft chuckle.
“Eight hours and thirty-seven minutes,” the captain said. “As good as your word, Commander. Please stand by.”
Grace had projected a time frame of nine hours to perform the task of realigning the ship’s deflector shield systems so that they could accept power directly from the warp drive. In contrast to other engineers, who as a group tended to err on the side of caution when providing estimates for how long a task would take to accomplish, Grace instead was known for his accuracy and bluntness when offering such assessments, even if it was something his captain or anyone else might not want to hear. Still, that practice engendered a trust from Okagawa and the rest of the Lovell’s crew, al-Khaled included, who knew that their chief engineer’s guesses were almost always more reliable than most other people’s attempts at fact.
Turning his command chair toward the science station, Okagawa said, “Mr. Xav, what about communications once we’re inside the rift?”
The Tellarite replied, “We are ready, Captain. I have fed the coordinates for one of the entry points plotted by Commander Danhauser to the helm. Once we maneuver into the rift, the T’Saura will deploy their subspace repeater beacon near the point where we pass through the barrier. Our own beacon is set to launch the moment we’ve made the transposition.”
Though the beacons normally were used to amplify subspace communications signals over great distances, it was Commander Danhauser’s opinion, based on the weeks of data collected by the T’Saura’s science team, that they also presented the best option for establishing communications into and out of the rift. By positioning one of the powerful devices on either side of the weak area in the energy barrier through which the Lovell would pass, he believed that the beacons, working in unison, would be able to overcome any disruption generated by the rift and amplify any signals transmitted through the barrier.
Sounds good in theory, al-Khaled conceded. Here’s hoping Danhauser’s as good as he seems to be. If the plan did not work, they would have no way of contacting the T’Saura, a smaller and less powerful ship than the Lovell. The chief engineers of both ships had concurred that the science vessel would not fare well traversing the energy barrier, and was instead better suited to remain outside the Triangle in a support capacity. Truth be told, it would be of little help to the Lovell should there be any trouble inside the rift, a proposition that did not set well with the engineer.
If Okagawa shared that apprehension, he did not show it. “Commander zh’Rhun,” he said, “are we set?”
“All sections report ready, sir. Thanks to Mr. Grace’s modifications, the shield generators are operating at one hundred seven percent of peak efficiency.”
The captain nodded. “Excellent.”
When he paused, al-Khaled turned to see Okagawa studying the main viewer, his attention seemingly focused on the field of stars it displayed, and the engineer sensed that his captain might be taking a moment to consider what else was waiting for them. It was an enthralling question, one that al-Khaled himself hoped would be answered in short order. Though he had read the reports submitted by the Enterprise crew following their experience here, he knew that those cold, emotionless words could not compare to a firsthand encounter with the phenomenon.
“Well,” said Okagawa, the beginnings of another playful grin playing at the corners of his mouth, “unless I’ve missed something, I don’t believe there’s any reason to put this off any longer.” He waved toward the main viewscreen. “Helm, take us in.”
Chapter
4
Al-Khaled knew when the
y hit the barrier.
It was not due to any sensor alerts fed to his console or because an alarm klaxon blared in the confines of the bridge or even because Commander zh’Rhun or Lieutenant Xav said anything. Instead, the first indication came from his stomach, which lurched at the precise instant that the Lovell struck the leading edge of the odd energy field that marked the true entrance to the Delta Triangle.
Then a flash of light engulfed the image on the main viewer and stars danced in al-Khaled’s vision. A slight but steady vibration began in the deck plating, its intensity increasing with each passing second as it moved upward into the bulkheads, the bridge consoles, and even his teeth. Everything around him seemed to fade into a haze, the blinking indicators on his workstation’s array of status monitors stretching and shifting as they smeared together into a single chaotic mass of jumbled color. He tasted bile as nausea washed over him and his stomach protested as the deck suddenly shifted beneath his feet.
“Captain,” called out Lieutenant Sasha Rodriquez from the helm, “I’ve lost maneuvering control. Everything on my console is going haywire.” Al-Khaled heard the heightened concern in her voice, which echoed his own growing anxiety as his disorientation continued to worsen.
