The Romulan ship’s raptor-like head flashed past just under Challenger’s saucer section, and the vast wings momentarily embraced Challenger, with only a few meters to spare on either side.
Then those wings had sped past, and now the Tomalak’s Fist was rushing away from Challenger. As the Romulan ship receded into the distance, she clearly waggled her wings, first one way then the other.
“Aye,” Scotty said, not sure if Kat could hear him. “Goodbye to you too, lass.”
Qat’qa felt her spirits sink as she settled the ship back into stable flight. Scotty had deserved the salute she was able to give him.
Scotty had already given EMH its order, and preprogrammed the transporter. He stood, watching the rapidly receding ship.
“Computer,” he said. “Energize transporter in three seconds from my mark. Mark. EMH. Now!”
In engineering, the EMH obediently pulled out the articulation cradle with a single heave, and disappeared, along with the warp core and the rest of engineering.
On the bridge, Scotty raised an imaginary glass. “Yours, aye,” he said, wondering whether the bright light and tingling buzz that was unraveling through him was the modified transporter beam, or a transition of a different, and inevitable sort.
Space around the Challenger blurred and twisted as the Romulan ship sped away from it, and the alien vessels scattered. Then, in a nanosecond, the Challenger crumpled up into a tiny speck.
49
The stars on the main viewer of Tomalak’s Fist were a welcome dusting of life-giving jewels. The spaceborne alien with whom Guinan had communicated with—this time from the Romulan ship—had promised to be much more careful on this trip into their galaxy and had deposited the ship safely and undamaged back near the Pulsar Alpha Six-Four system.
La Forge’s emotions were mixed, but the stars of home helped. Leah was gazing at them with wonder, since once she thought she would never see them again. “You look pretty happy for someone who’s probably going to be spending the rest of her life in a Romulan prison camp.”
“Believe me, I can’t think of anything that would make me less happy than being a Romulan prisoner.” Leah hesitated. “Actually, perhaps I can.”
“Whatever it is, I’ll do my best to make sure it doesn’t happen.”
“Good. I’ll be glad of that.”
“So, what is it that would be worse than being in a Romulan prison?” La Forge asked.
“Being alone in a Romulan prison.”
La Forge held her gaze for a moment. “You didn’t ask why I’m happy despite our situation.”
“I don’t think I have to.”
“We have a cadre of Starfleet engineers, Chairman Sela,” Varaan was saying. “All specialists in their fields. Dammit, we have the woman who designs their ships and their warp drives. How much more of a prize could one hope for?”
“We’re representatives of Praetor Kamemor, Varaan, not pirates and freebooters. Prizes aren’t part of the Praetor’s new regime.” Sela didn’t sound particularly convinced. “Today, it seems we must be diplomats.”
“We should turn around and take our prisoners home.”
“Will you mutiny for that?”
“No.”
“Then find me the Enterprise.”
It took two days before the Enterprise was sitting before Tomalak’s Fist. There was no sign, as it cruised across the main screen, that it had detected them.
Sela grinned, a thoroughly self-satisfied expression. “I wish I could be a fly on the wall of Enterprise’s bridge for this. Just for the sight of Picard’s expression . . .” She nodded to Varaan. “Decloak, and hail them.”
Aboard the Enterprise, Jean-Luc Picard was about to go off duty when Choudhury’s voice stopped him in his tracks. “Romulan vessel decloaking, Captain!” Picard had been expecting and dreading those words for days. Ever since the Challenger had disappeared, with the chairman of the Tal Shiar on board, the Romulan border had been in a state that used to be called a phoney war, just waiting for someone to shoot for real.
At least, waiting for someone to whom blame could be made to stick. The main viewer came to life just in time to display the towering form of a jade-colored Romulan leviathan shimmer into solidity ahead of the Enterprise. Picard’s mood was chilled further when a familiar face appeared on the screen. “Good evening, Captain Picard.”
“Chairman Sela!” Picard was uncharacteristically stunned, unsure as to whether the chairman’s sudden appearance was good news, or, more likely, the revelation that everything had been one of her schemes all along. “What is the meaning of this trespass into Federation space?”
“A rescue, Captain.” Picard’s skeptical expression could have burned through stone. “You may have noticed that Starfleet is missing one of their ships. The Challenger, to be precise.” Picard felt a cold sweat begin, but didn’t let the slightest hint show on his face. Sela waved someone forward, and Picard was astonished to see that it was Geordi. “As luck would have it, one of our vessels was in the area and able to effect a rescue of the Challenger’s crew. They have all been well-treated, and, in fact, have earned our gratitude in some ways.”
“It’s true, Captain,” Geordi said.
Extensive debriefings were conducted at Starbase 410, which La Forge didn’t mind in the slightest. Nor did Qat’qa, who could spend some time regaling her aunt with tales of her battle honors.
Afterward, when the debriefing had proved that their story was true and no one had been brainwashed into becoming a Romulan agent, the senior staff of Challenger met up one last time, in the café where La Forge and Guinan had waited to join the ship, so long ago. “Where are you headed, Reg?” Geordi asked.
“Back to Jupiter Station first, and then probably the Voyager fleet.” He shivered. “Voktra and I have agreed to petition our governments to engage in more, er, cooperative programs. We both think there’s a decent chance, if only so that the Tal Shiar and Starfleet Intelligence can sneak agents into the teams.”
“Good luck with that, Reg.”
Guinan was also leaving, and had less luggage this time. “I guess this is goodbye.”
“Going traveling again?”
“I’ve been thinking. There are still diplomatic channels that offer a person a chance to visit the Romulan Empire. I think the Senate could use a good hostess. Chairman Sela has provided a visa.” She paused. “Oh, before I go, I can take a wild guess as to how such an impossible feature as that toroidal continuum fold became real.”
“I’m listening. No pun or offense intended.”
“Sometimes the Q don’t get along.”
“They don’t really get along with anybody,” La Forge pointed out.
“That’s true, but sometimes they also don’t get along themselves. There’s been at least one civil war in the Continuum that we mere mortals know about.”
“Yeah . . . that’s right! Voyager’s logs mentioned it. There was a report to Starfleet by Kathryn Janeway about a Q civil war,” Barclay said.
“I believe it. I’ve had dealings with Q,” Guinan reminded him.
“And do you know anything more about this civil war?” La Forge asked.
“No, but I know them. It made me think about the kinds of weapons they might use.”
“Anything they think can be made real,” said La Forge.
“So, if things like this spatial fold are lying around the galaxy like a mine field . . .” offered Guinan.
“That’s a scary thought,” Barclay said.
“No, that’s not the scary thought. The scary thought is if that’s what’s left lying around by the Q, what else could there be?” With that Guinan got up and left.
Leah and Geordi went over to the table where Kat, Nog, and Vol were sitting. “Any plans?”
“The same plan I’ve always lived by,” Nog said. “I call it the O’Brien strategy: Fix it and go home alive at the end of the shift.” Vol and Kat laughed uproariously, and then all five of them drank to that particular
plan.
By the end of the night, only Leah and Geordi remained. “Geordi . . . Why don’t you come back with me? Work on new engines and new starships. You’d be such a great asset to the development program.” She hesitated. “There’s an opening for a head of the design bureau at Utopia Planitia, and you’d be per—”
He let his head droop slightly before answering softly. “I can’t, Leah. The Enterprise is home. So many star systems to visit, so many cultures’ engineering methods to learn about . . .”
“I thought you might say that.”
“You could come with me. Back to the Enterprise.”
She took his hand sadly. “I couldn’t tie myself to one engine, and one ship.”
“Oh.” La Forge couldn’t keep the disappointment out of his voice, even though he completely understood her position. “Could you . . . tie yourself, as you put it, to one—”
“Person?”
He wasn’t even sure until she finished his sentence for him that that was what he was going to say.
“Could you?”
“That I could do,” she said.
EPILOGUE
Geordi and Leah materialized aboard the Enterprise and were greeted by Picard and Worf. “Welcome back, Geordi.” Picard’s smile was genuine but not large, as the memorial service for Scotty was due to be held that evening aboard Enterprise. It was La Forge’s first day back as chief engineer, and not one he had been looking forward to.
“Doctor Brahms,” Picard continued, “to what do we owe the honor of this visit?”
As if he didn’t know, Geordi thought. Worf could hardly keep a straight face.
“Doctor Brahms has agreed to stay with me for a little while, Captain.”
“A little while?” Worf echoed.
“Congratulations, Geordi,” Picard said softly. “Now there is one other matter we have to attend to. We must do something about your rank.”
“Yeah, Captain, don’t worry. I’m perfectly happy to—”
“Do you know what a post captain is?”
“No . . .”
“In the eighteenth-century Royal Navy, a man could be promoted to the rank of captain without having a ship. When he was assigned a ship he was a post captain.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Until then he was retained at half pay. Now, I do not propose to restrict your benefits and privileges for no longer having a ship of your own, but I have found that there is a rank in Starfleet of captain of engineering.”
“Scotty’s rank.”
“And now yours. Starfleet has approved and amended your service record appropriately.” Picard offered him a hand to shake. “Welcome aboard, Captain La Forge.”
The memorial that night was a solemn affair. La Forge had expected to see various members of the Corps of Engineers at the memorial, and sure enough Sonya Gomez and her Tellarite first officer were there, but La Forge had not expected to see the tall man who held himself apart from the crowd.
Geordi walked over, trying to figure out how to apologize for getting Scotty killed, or at least for not looking after him well enough. As he approached, the man shook his head slightly, and caught La Forge’s gaze with calm, wise eyes. “You do not need to make any special statement before me, Captain La Forge,” Ambassador Spock said. “Mister Scott knew, as do we all, that our occupation is not entirely safe. You have nothing to explain.”
“I just wish I could have done something—”
“But there was no more you could have done. The actions of the spaceborne entities, and indeed the fact of their existence, were an unpredictable factor.” Ambassador Spock’s craggy face softened as he allowed an eyebrow to rise slightly. “In my experience, Mister Scott has always been, shall we say, a man of great ingenuity.”
“A miracle worker, in fact.”
“Indeed. In his own way, he is as adept at finding ingenious solutions to his apparently certain fate as was Captain Kirk.”
La Forge nodded. “Captain Kirk still died, on Veridian III.” He fell silent, remembering how close everyone on the Enterprise-D had come to dying there.
“Every probability curve must have a far end. Nevertheless, if there was any means to escape the destruction of the Challenger, Mister Scott will have found it.” Spock continued, “There are certainties in life, Captain La Forge, but they are finite in number. Extremely finite, in fact. The possibilities, however, are not. There are always an effectively infinite number of possibilities.”
Star Trek: TNG Indstinguishable From Magic Page 43
