A Time to Sow

by Dayton Ward

  Troi replied, “I understand, sir.”

  “Have you detected anything else from any of the council members worth noting?”

  “Nothing more than I already reported, sir,” the counselor said. “The security minister, Nidan, maintains a suspicious attitude, but I attribute that to the nature of his responsibilities. Hjatyn has been most forthcoming regardless of the questions I’ve asked, but I still sense caution when he answers even though he does a remarkable job of concealing it. Other members of the council continue to demonstrate a growing sense of comfort and trust at our presence.” Frowning, she added, “And there are those whose enthusiasm seems to have dampened somewhat since our arrival.”

  “How so?” Picard asked.

  Pausing a moment before replying, Troi shrugged. “It’s almost as though one or two of the council members have had a change of heart, or perhaps they’ve begun to doubt their original feelings about us. Minister Creij, for example. At our first meeting, she was among the most vocal of our supporters, but now I sense hesitation when she talks to me.”

  “Is it possible,” Picard said, “that she feels our presence here might somehow be threatening to her work?” They had quickly learned that the Dokaalan were a proud people, steadfastly determined to see the transformation of Ijuuka into their new home through their own efforts. Though Minister Creij had welcomed any suggestions by the Enterprise crew that might accelerate the terraforming process, had she done so simply for the sake of politeness? Did she privately harbor feelings of resentment and fear at being upstaged by people with advanced technology?

  Troi replied, “I don’t know, sir, but my instincts tell me that’s not the reason.”

  The captain nodded. “Well then, we should continue as we have and see where it takes us.” It was a weak and undesirable plan, but given the circumstances it was the only course of action open to him.

  For now, anyway.

  Their attention was drawn to a door opening at the far end of the council chambers, allowing Dr. Crusher to enter. Picard knew that the physician had transferred her remaining Dokaalan patients, left over from the mining outpost rescue operation, to the central habitat from the Enterprise several hours earlier. According to her last report, she had been monitoring their condition since then, and he could see by the expression on her face that she too still seemed to be troubled.

  “Doctor?” he prompted as she approached them.

  Crusher attempted to affect a smile, but it was forced and she seemed to realize it as she exhaled in apparent frustration. “I’ve just spent the last three hours in their medical center with my patients. Three hours ago most of their major internal organs were on the verge of collapse, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Now their condition is improving with every minute, and I didn’t do a damn thing to cause it.”

  “You’re still learning about Dokaalan medicine, Beverly,” Troi offered. “Surely their doctors know how best to treat their own people, even though you’ve done wonderfully in such a short time.”

  Shaking her head, Crusher replied, “I could accept that if it were the case, but their doctors didn’t do anything either. Besides, it wasn’t just the five miners we rescued. One of their doctors was on the Enterprise with me, and he began to present the same symptoms as the others.” Waving her hand to indicate their surroundings, she added, “Something here is affecting their physiology, something that causes a negative reaction when its influence is removed, and I think I’ve got an idea what.”

  “The radiation,” Picard said.

  “Exactly,” the doctor replied. “It was like what happens to addicts suffering withdrawal symptoms when whatever substance causing the addiction is removed.”

  Picard nodded. “On the ship and with the shields up, the radiation would be blocked, at least enough to deprive the Dokaalan of whatever benefits they receive from the radiation.” It was an interesting notion, he conceded. “Could it be a by-product of their having lived out here all these years? Their physiology would have had to acclimate to the environment, but in only a few hundred years?”

  “It’s not out of the question, Captain,” Troi said. “Remember the colonists on Tau Cygna V?”

  It took Picard a moment of sifting through his memory to recall the Enterprise’s mission to that planet, where a Federation colony ship, the S.S. Artemis, had ended up. The mission had arisen after the Sheliak, a reclusive race with whom the Federation had a strained relationship for more than a century, exercised their rights as owners of Tau Cygna V and demanded the colonists leave or face extermination. Picard had managed to resolve the dispute between the Sheliak and the colonists, but only after a great deal of assistance from Data.

  “Their descendants eventually adapted to the hyperonic radiation on that planet,” Troi continued. “It’s entirely possible that something similar has happened here.”

  Crusher replied, “I agree. I’ll need time to set up some new tests to be sure, but it would explain their reaction both here and on the ship.”

  “Proceed as you think best, Doctor,” Picard said. Shaking his head, he added, “Well, this will certainly make my next report to Admiral Nechayev more interesting.” He had dispatched a status report the previous evening, transmitting it along with his log entries back to Starfleet Command via subspace. With the background radiation still presenting an obstacle to communications, Data had programmed an unmanned probe to navigate out of the asteroid field and to the perimeter of the Dokaalan system in order to transmit the information.

  No doubt that report already was stirring up controversy in the hallways of power back on Earth, and Picard was reasonably sure that Alynna Nechayev was enjoying every minute of it. It was an image that almost made the captain smile.

  But not for long.

  An earsplitting klaxon suddenly blared, echoing in through the council chambers and nearly making Picard jump out of his skin. “What is that?” he asked.

  “It is an emergency alert signal,” Hjatyn said as he broke from the circle of other council members, shuffling as quickly as his aged body would carry him toward the control room Picard and his people had visited earlier. The captain followed after with Troi and Crusher behind him.

  The command center was a rush of activity, with Dokaalan technicians scrambling from console to console and warning lights flashing for attention on a number of workstations around the room. Though the alarm was not sounding in here, Picard’s ears were still assaulted by bursts of static washing over someone yelling out in a panicked voice.

  “What is it?” Hjatyn asked as he entered the room.

  Turning from where he watched over the shoulder of a technician manning one computer console, Nidan replied, “Mining Station Twelve is reporting an explosion. We are still trying to gather information, First Minister.”

  At that moment, Picard’s combadge chirped for attention and Riker’s voice called out, “Riker to Captain Picard.”

  “Picard here. Go ahead, Number One.”

  “Sir, we’re picking up a massive detonation on one of the nearby mining outposts,” Riker said as he sat in the captain’s chair on the bridge of the Enterprise. “Sensor scans are still fuzzy, but it was large enough to detect even through the interference.”

  “Are you able to ascertain the extent of the damage?” Picard asked.

  Rising from the center seat, Riker replied, “No sir, we’d have to get closer for that. Request permission to render assistance.”

  “Absolutely,” the captain said. “Set a course for the outpost immediately. We’ll catch up in the shuttlecraft.”

  Riker nodded to Kell Perim at the conn. “Prepare to get under way, Lieutenant.” He saw the look of uncertainty in Perim’s eyes, but the Trill officer said nothing as she turned back to her station and began entering the necessary instructions to her console.

  “Number One,” Picard’s voice said over the intercom, “Minister Hjatyn has told me that there are more than eight hundred people on the outpost, and r
eports are coming in that several areas have experienced explosive decompression. Their life-support systems appear to have sustained damage as well. The Dokaalan are dispatching rescue ships, but they won’t be able to get there as quickly as the Enterprise. Time is of the essence, Will.”

  “We’re on it, Captain. Stand by,” Riker said as he stepped toward the conn and ops stations and laid a hand on Perim’s shoulder. “Kell, you sure you can handle this? If you think you need help, just say the word.”

  There was no mistaking the nervousness on the lieutenant’s face even as she nodded in response. “I think so, Commander. I’m no Data, but I’ll have the computer helping me.”

  While she was of course no match for Data’s superior reflexes and experience, Perim was an exceptional pilot in her own right. Riker had faith in her ability to navigate the Enterprise through the asteroid field, knowing she would call for assistance if she felt it was warranted.

  Smiling, Riker patted her shoulder. “You’ll do fine,” he said before turning away from the forward bridge stations. “We’re getting under way now, Captain.”

  “Good,” Picard replied. “We’ll be right behind you.”

  “We’ll leave a light on for you, sir,” the first officer said, smiling to himself as he settled once more into the command chair. “Helm, move us out,” he said.

  Perim nodded. “Aye, sir.”

  On the main viewer, the colossal asteroid that was home to the Dokaalan’s central habitat drifted beyond the left edge of the screen as the Enterprise turned on its axis to align itself with its new heading. Seconds later, the shift was over and the ship began to move forward.

  “Lieutenant Vale,” he said, “contact sickbay and notify Dr. Tropp to prepare triage measures, just like last time. Cargo holds, shuttlebays, whatever he needs. Let him know that Dr. Crusher will be in contact shortly with more instructions, but for now he’s in charge.”

  “Aye, sir,” Vale replied.

  All around Riker, members of the crew set to their various tasks. Left with nothing do to except sit quietly and wait for the situation to evolve, he once again noted the ratio of alpha-shift crew members to those brought on duty as replacements for officers otherwise unavailable for one reason or another.

  While he knew that every member of the crew was qualified to carry out his or her responsibilities, Riker could not deny the unease he felt at not having his most trusted colleagues by his side. He glanced at the chair to his left, the one normally occupied by Deanna Troi and which now of course was conspicuously empty.

  Watching Perim’s fingers move over her console, Riker tried to conjure some of the confidence he hoped to have given her for himself. Despite her own skills, it was hard not to think of the sometimes harrowing passage Data had provided during the Enterprise’s first journey through the asteroid field. Though the android had shown no signs of strain or unease during that earlier crossing, Riker had to believe that it had been a trying experience even for his friend’s extraordinary talents.

  “Number One,” Picard said, interrupting his thoughts. “We’ve received new information from the outpost. They believe the explosion wasn’t an accident.”

  A sudden chill ran down Riker’s spine at the report. Someone had deliberately caused such catastrophic damage, possibly resulting in the deaths of hundreds of people? There had been discussions about those among the Dokaalan opposed to the terraforming process and how some had taken to sabotage, but on this scale? If such people were indeed operating in the shadows among the Dokaalan, what else were they capable of doing? Did they pose a threat to the Enterprise and if so, would they attempt to take action against the ship as he and the crew tried to render assistance to the outpost victims?

  There’s nothing you can do about that now, he admonished himself. Shut up and play the cards you’re dealt.

  “Understood, sir,” he said simply. What else was there to say? It did not matter to the people on the outpost that there might be others seeking to harm him and the crew. It was not relevant to those same people currently in distress that Data was not here, or that several of the people he trusted most were off ship. The people on that asteroid could not wait for circumstances to be ideal before a rescue was attempted. They were in trouble, they were dying, and they needed help.

  Right now.

  About the Authors

  DAYTON WARD has been a fan of Star Trek since conception (his, not the show’s). After serving for eleven years in the U.S. Marine Corps, he discovered the private sector and the piles of cash to be made there as a software engineer. He got his start in professional writing by having stories selected for each of Pocket Books’ first three Star Trek: Strange New Worlds writing contests. In addition to his various writing projects with Kevin Dilmore, Dayton is the author of the Star Trek novel In the Name of Honor and the science fiction novel The Last World War. Though he currently lives in Kansas City with his wife, Michi, Dayton is a Florida native and still maintains a torrid long-distance romance with his beloved Tampa Bay Buccaneers. Readers interested in contacting Dayton or learning more about his writing are encouraged to venture to his Internet cobweb collection at http://www.daytonward.com.

  After 15 years as a newspaper reporter and editor, KEVIN DILMORE turned his full attention to his freelance writing career in 2003. Since 1997, he has been a contributing writer to Star Trek Communicator, writing news stories and personality profiles for the bimonthly publication of the Official Star Trek Fan Club. Look for Kevin’s interviews with some of Star Trek’s most popular authors in volumes of the Star Trek Signature Editions. On the fictional side of things, his story “The Road to Edos” was published last year in the Star Trek: New Frontier anthology No Limits. With Dayton Ward, he has also written a story for the anthology Star Trek: Tales of the Dominion War and seven installments of the continuing e-book series Star Trek: S.C.E.—with more to come. A graduate of the University of Kansas, Kevin lives in Prairie Village, Kansas, with his wife, Michelle, and their three daughters.