by Dayton Ward
“I’ve run a search of our data banks,” Worf said, “and according to the available information, the Cereshta has no non-Andorian crewmembers. However, as it is a civilian vessel, such information may not be up-to-date. That, or they took on passengers.”
Picard eyed his first officer. “I presume you’ve already looked into their flight plan?” Worf looked to Šmrhová and nodded.
“Yes, sir,” she said. “A cross-check of its registry shows that the Cereshta departed the Kondaii system eleven days ago, bound for Arcturus with a shipment of erinadium. They’re scheduled arrival date is the day after tomorrow.”
La Forge said, “I don’t think they’re going to make it.”
“Indeed.” Picard began pacing the perimeter of the command area on his way toward the viewer. “Even with their difficulties, it would seem they’re a bit off course if they’re headed for Arcturus. Of course, anyone doing business on Arcturus might well be engaging in other activities for which they’d wish to avoid attention.” The planet Arcturus was a non-aligned world located on the fringes of Federation space. Its reputation for “anything goes” with respect to law and commerce was well earned. Picard himself had visited the planet only twice over the course of his career, and Starfleet tended to give it and its home system a wide berth.
Worf said, “There are several colonies and other ports of call along the prominent civilian trade routes through this region. It is possible that they intended to make an unscheduled stop at one of those destinations.”
Despite the current situation, Picard could not help eyeing the Klingon with a small, wry grin. “You used to be more suspicious than this, Commander. Are you finally beginning to mellow, even just a little?”
Straightening his posture, the first officer nevertheless allowed a small gleam of amusement to soften his otherwise implacable features. “Perhaps a small bit, sir. Please do not inform Admiral Riker of this development.”
“I’ll take it to my grave, Number One.”
The brief moment of levity now passed, Worf’s expression once again turned serious. “There is something worth noting: The ship’s three escape pods have all been jettisoned. There are no indications of other craft carried aboard the ship, and we’ve picked up no trace of the pods anywhere in our sensor range.”
“So they may have evacuated.” Picard crossed his arms, studying the image of the freighter. “Which could mean those two life signs were the unlucky souls who didn’t make it out of there.” His words conjured several rather unpleasant images as he considered the fate of anyone stranded aboard the wounded freighter.
“I’m downloading their memory banks and sensor logs, Captain,” said Lieutenant Dina Elfiki, the Enterprise’s senior science officer, from where she sat at the science station along the bridge’s starboard side. “There may be a clue to what happened to them somewhere.”
Nodding in approval at her initiative, Picard said, “Good. What about the damage to their warp core? Do you have any readings on interior radiation levels?”
“Definitely elevated, sir,” Šmrhová replied. “I wouldn’t attempt to go aboard without environment suits.”
“Given the condition of their warp core,” La Forge added, “I don’t know that I’d recommend sending anybody at all. Its instability is increasing; slowly, but getting worse by the minute. At this rate, I’m estimating a full breach within two hours. We want to be somewhere else when that happens.”
Šmrhová’s tactical console emitted a string of subdued beeps, and the security chief tapped a few controls. “We just received a response to our hails, sir. Audio only, but it’s something.”
Picard ordered, “On speakers, Lieutenant.” A moment later, the ship’s intercom system flared to life with a litany of hisses and static.
“. . . freighter Cereshta, requesting immed . . . suffered catastrophic da . . . core failing . . . elp us!” A sharp pop punctuated the final word, after which the channel fell silent. Picard looked to Šmrhová, who shook her head.
“That’s all there is, sir. Their comm system looks to have failed.”
“Transporters,” Picard said. “Beam them out of there.”
Seated at the ops station, Glinn Ravel Dygan replied, “Interference from the nebula and the warp core damage is hampering transporters, sir.” The young Cardassian officer, serving aboard the Enterprise as part of a shared officer utilization program between the Federation and the Cardassian Union following the latter party’s signing on to the Khitomer Accords three years earlier, tapped several controls on his console before shaking his head. “We’re unable to establish a lock, Captain.”
“What about a tractor beam?” Worf asked. “Moving the ship away from the nebula might reduce the interference enough for us to compensate.”
La Forge held up a hand. “I don’t recommend that. With the shape their warp core’s in? Any disruption could cause it to fail completely, and we’d be way too close when and if that happened.”
Already uneasy with how the current situation was continuing to evolve, Picard now did not like how options were being removed, leaving him only with the obvious alternative and the one with which he felt the least comfortable. He released a small, annoyed sigh. “Geordi, are you certain about your estimate?”
“As certain as I can be, sir,” replied the chief engineer. “I know what you’re thinking, and I think we can get over there, get the crew, and get out in plenty of time.” He stopped, looking past Picard to the viewscreen. “In fact, we may even be able to repair the damage and stabilize their warp core. I won’t know for sure until I get a good look at it, but it might be worth a try. That erinadium shipment would be a tough loss for whoever’s waiting for it on Arcturus.”
Picard recalled what little he knew about the mineral that—so far as was generally known—existed only within the confines of the Kondaii star system. Erinadium, a rich substance that rivaled dilithium for raw energy potential, had seen its usage within the Federation grow during the past century as relations with the system’s indigenous race continued to evolve. The mineral, which was very stable in its processed form, was a preferred element of large-scale clean energy production on worlds throughout the quadrant, but its present limited availability made it a valued commodity.
“Well,” the captain said, “if you think you can avoid that loss, I’m sure the mineral’s intended recipient would be most appreciative. Take a minimal away team; only those you need to make the necessary repairs.” He turned to Worf. “However, the priority is rescuing any stranded personnel. I want you out of there at the first sign of trouble.”
The first officer replied, “Understood, sir.”
At the tactical station, Šmrhová said, “Captain, there’s something else. I’ve scanned the ship’s docking port, and it’s showing signs of damage. I don’t think a shuttle would be able to link up there safely.”
Worf frowned. “If that’s true, then we have no way of getting to . . .” His words faded into silence, and when he turned to regard Picard, there was no mistaking the Klingon’s disapproval as realization dawned.
“Surely there must be some other option. Any option.”
This time, Picard forced himself not to smile, but La Forge grinned as he reached out to clap the first officer’s shoulder. “Come on, Worf. Let’s take a walk.”
* * *
Using his environment suit’s maneuvering thrusters to orient himself, La Forge closed the remaining gap separating him from the Cereshta’s hull and allowed his own momentum to carry him the final few meters. Handholds positioned at various points along the freighter’s hull provided ample targets, and within seconds, he felt his gloved hand closing around one of the metal support grips. With practiced ease, he turned himself so that his feet made contact with the hull, and he pressed the control along his left thigh to activate the magnetic grips built into his boots.
“Touchdown,” he called out, his voice along with his breathing echoing inside his helmet as he felt his boot
s affix themselves to the hull plates. Looking around him, he watched as the rest of the away team arrived at the freighter, each of them taking up similar positions and securing themselves to the vessel’s hull. “Everybody okay?”
“I’m fine,” Šmrhová replied as she adjusted her stance. When La Forge caught sight of her face through her helmet, he saw her small smile. “It’s nice to go outside for some fresh air once in a while.”
“That is a matter of opinion,” countered Worf from where he had sat down behind the security chief.
Behind La Forge, Lieutenant Commander Taurik said, “I have made the transit without incident, Commander.”
Per the captain’s instructions, La Forge had opted to keep the away team to no more than four people, and the time-sensitive nature of their task had inclined him to go with seasoned officers. Worf and Šmrhová would see to locating and extracting anyone still left aboard the freighter for transfer back to the Enterprise, where they would receive any needed medical attention. At the same time, La Forge and Taurik would see to the Cereshta’s ailing warp drive and—with luck—repair any damage and prevent the vessel’s destruction.
A quick inspection showed that the ship’s external docking port had indeed suffered some kind of damage. The visual evidence was obvious, with the port having been subjected to some kind of collision. Hull plating around the entry point had been warped and pushed inward, making any kind of safe link with another ship or even an emergency-docking collar dangerous if not impossible.
“My tricorder is registering a loss of atmosphere in the compartment behind the port,” Taurik reported, holding up for emphasis the scanning device in his left hand. “However, that section has been sealed off from the rest of the ship.”
“Good.” Between that and the six airlock entrances scattered around the vessel, La Forge did not anticipate any problems gaining entry. With careful, deliberate steps, he began making his way across the hull toward the nearest of those portals. “We’ve got about an hour. Let’s get inside and get this done.” According to the estimate he had refined prior to their departure, the freighter’s warp core would fail in just over ninety minutes, and he had given the team a thirty-minute cushion before they were to evacuate and return to the Enterprise.
The P-38 magnetic door seal converters from their tool satchels allowed La Forge and Taurik to make quick work of the airlock’s reinforced outer hatch. Once inside and past the airlock itself—which of course required waiting for the proper atmosphere pressurization and equalization protocols to complete—La Forge could feel the omnipresent hum of the freighter’s main engines reverberating up through the deck plating and into the soles of his boots. That was a good sign, he thought, but what bothered him was the lack of internal lighting within the passageways and compartments. They had been extinguished, and though their environment suits provided suitable illumination, the effect on the narrow, darkened corridors was enough to give La Forge a momentary chill of uncertainty.
“Artificial gravity appears functional throughout the ship,” Taurik said, his attention focused on his tricorder. “As is environmental control, but given the leakage from the warp core, I do not advise removing our helmets.”
“Don’t worry,” Šmrhová replied.
“The freighter’s communications system remains inactive,” Worf said. “Maintain your own open frequencies at all times, and report anything unusual you might encounter.”
La Forge nodded in approval. Though the first officer had not said as much, the stark reality was that the away team had only one another on which to rely should anything odd happen. Captain Picard had ordered a security team to stand by for transfer to the Andorian ship in the event of an emergency, but La Forge and the others knew they would not likely be able to make the transit from the Enterprise in time to be of much use. For all intents and purposes, the away team was on its own.
Let’s get this over with.
La Forge turned his head so that that his helmet lights offered him a look down the corridor stretching in both directions from the airlock. Comparing what he saw to the internal schematic transferred from the Enterprise sensor array to his tricorder, he oriented himself with respect to their desired destinations within the freighter. “Scans show the two life signs somewhere in the main cargo section. We’ll try to get the lights back on as soon as possible. Good luck.”
“And to you,” Worf said before he and Šmrhová set off down the corridor, the Klingon leading the way with his tricorder in one hand and his phaser in the other.
Consulting his own tricorder, La Forge and Taurik maneuvered down the passageway that—according to his scans—would send them to the freighter’s engineering section. Their route through the ship took them past the main cargo hold, which La Forge knew was filled with containers of processed erinadium ore. They also passed crew quarters and what the chief engineer guessed to be passenger-berthing compartments, as these areas appeared to lack any clothing, possessions, or other items a crewmember might use to decorate his or her personal space. La Forge noted how each of the crew berthing spaces looked to have been left along with their contents. Whatever had caused the crew to abandon the Cereshta had happened with little or no warning, and seemingly no time to address whatever crisis had befallen the ship.
“Here we are,” he said as he and Taurik turned a corner in the passageway and found themselves standing before a large hatch. Aiming his tricorder at the massive fortified door, La Forge frowned. “Its magnetic safety locks have been engaged. That’s likely a consequence of the warp core damage, which means the ship’s computer probably has a safety protocol that’ll prevent us from opening this thing.”
“A logical protective step,” Taurik replied. “My tricorder readings show that this hatch’s proximity sensors have been disabled. Even if we are able to defeat its safety seal, we will have to open it manually.”
A beep echoed in La Forge’s helmet, followed by the voice of the Enterprise’s first officer. “Worf to La Forge. We have arrived at the primary cargo bay, but there are no immediate signs of the remaining crewmembers. Also, there is evidence to suggest the freighter was transporting some form of smaller craft; a shuttle or other compact transport vessel. The cargo bay contains diagnostic equipment for servicing small warp-capable craft, and its control console indicates recent use.”
La Forge frowned at the report. “There was nothing like that on the ship’s manifest. On the other hand, this is a civilian ship, and it was headed for Arcturus, which is a popular hub for smuggling. For all we know, there may be compartments and access tunnels crammed with contraband and shielded from our sensors.”
Over the comm link, Šmrhová said, “Now we’re talking.”
“Stand by, Worf.” La Forge turned to Taurik, who still held his tricorder. “Are you able to pick up the Andorians?”
The Vulcan’s right eyebrow rose. “Scans continue to show them in the main cargo compartment.”
Over the communications link, Worf said, “We are continuing to search.”
“Why don’t I like the way this is going?” La Forge asked, more to himself than to Taurik or anyone else. “La Forge to Enterprise. Are you monitoring our communications?”
“We’re hearing everything, Commander,” Captain Picard replied. “What’s your assessment of the situation?”
“I’d still like to take a look at the warp core, sir.”
The captain replied, “Understood. Watch yourself, Geordi. Evacuate if you think you need to. If we lose the freighter, then so be it.”
“Aye, sir.” Returning his tricorder to the holder at his waist, La Forge retrieved the P-38 from his tool satchel and applied it to the engineering hatch. As he keyed the device to interrupt the magnetic seal keeping the door locked, he heard the pneumatic hiss as it deactivated and the hatch began to cycle open. “La Forge to Enterprise. We’ve got the hatch unsealed. We’re proceeding into the engineering section.” It was not until he felt his hand closing around the pommel of t
he phaser on his hip that he realized he even had reached for the weapon.
“Acknowledged, Mister La Forge,” Picard answered. “Proceed with caution.”
Taurik said, “Perhaps it is advisable to wait for Commander Worf and Lieutenant Šmrhová to return.”
Though his initial reaction was to dismiss the notion as being a bit on the silly side, La Forge instead found himself pausing to consider his colleague’s suggestion. Everything about this little field trip rubbed him the wrong way, and he knew Worf was not happy about the way the situation seemed to be evolving. There was no telling what the captain might be thinking, though La Forge guessed Picard at this moment was giving serious thought to ordering the away team to abandon its mission and return to the Enterprise.
“There’s nobody else in this part of the ship,” La Forge said, stepping up to the door. “I think we’ll be okay.” He and Taurik each wedged the fingers of their free hands into the slot between the reinforced doors, exchanging nods before both men pulled on their respective halves of the hatch. With the magnetic seal deactivated, opening the doors proved a simple task, with both doors sliding into their sides of the threshold. The hum of the ship’s engines was loudest here, resonating even through La Forge’s helmet. Leaning around the doorframe, he cast his helmet lights into the chamber behind the entrance, catching sight of several workstations, all active and with their displays providing what little illumination the room possessed. At the rear of the large compartment was what La Forge recognized as a warp core in common use aboard civilian Andorian vessels. Its internal components pulsed with life, but La Forge’s practiced ear told him the system was in rough shape.
Sounds terrible, but let’s see if we can’t save this old bucket, anyway.
Twenty-two
