by Various
What confused him at first, though, was that there were fourteen of them, identical to one another in size and shape. The Resonator was larger than Picard's fists together, but flat and copper-colored. On top were four keys: two amber, one brown, and one a deeper shade of brown. He stepped toward them and touched one, feeling the cool metal. Picking it up, he found that it felt light, and as he turned it over, saw indentations that at first puzzled him.
"Is this it?"
"I think so, Chanik. I just didn't expect to find so many."
"Maybe they were being careful in case one broke."
"Maybe," Picard agreed halfheartedly, but he doubted it To date, he had never encountered spare parts of any sort. The Iconians, it seemed, built things to last. Which meant all fourteen Resonators were meant to be used.
"Merde," he muttered to himself.
Christine Vale had seen plenty of action since joining the Enterprise nearly a year earlier. There had been other planets, other ships to help, and plenty of time to train her team to perform at peak efficiency. Being anything but the image of the typical security chief, she felt driven to make certain she earned the respect of those around her.
And she loved her work.
As she materialized aboard the Petraw ship, she used two quick hand signals that sent her three other crewmen into quick defensive positions. All had phasers in hand; one also had a phaser rifle strapped to his broad back. The corridor was close enough to the weapons room that it took little time to fan out and cover the door and entry points along the corridor. While its being empty helped, they still moved quietly and quickly, because she knew that fortunes could change with a single heartbeat.
To her right, Choloh, a hulking Tellarite, checked his tricorder and nodded. The armory was indeed occupied and the single digit held in the air told her it was just the one.
Well, she considered, checking the phaser setting, if you had to hide anywhere, an armory made an awful lot of sense.
Choloh adjusted his settings and pocketed the device, flexing his thick fingers around the phaser, nodding. The others also trained their attention on the single door that separated them from their target.
Vale stepped forward and rapped her knuckles on the door.
"Go away! I'm armed." The voice was expectedly agitated and she was prepared for him to act irrationally given the desperate situation he was in.
"No kidding," she replied. "Be awfully silly of you to sit in an armory and not test the merchandise. We can go about this a few ways, but me, I always go for the nice and easy ones. How about you?"
"What are you talking about?" The voice fairly screamed at her through the metallic door.
Vale stepped to her right, projecting her voice straight at the door. "We could storm the room, have lots of weapons discharge at once, and potentially blow a hole through the hull. You could come out firing and we, clearly outnumbering you, shoot you down. You could toss out the weapon and make a run for it, but that just means we get to pick for who chases and tackles you. Or..."
"Or, you could talk me to death!"
Vale frowned at that. "Hadn't thought about that one. Maybe next time. Right now, we need to bring you to Commander Riker and I'm running out of patience. Decide."
The silence lasted only four seconds, but seemed far longer to Vale, who licked her lips once, tightening her grip on the phaser. She strained her ears to hear what he might be doing but the door muffled it.
"I'll come out," the voice said, so softly that Vale wasn't sure of the words at first.
"Unlock the door, open it with your weapon on the ground, hands up on your head." With hand signals, she had her people move into position, flanking the door. Crouching, she was poised to roll out of the way of weapons fire or scurry into the armory. By staying low, she hoped to be clear of whatever he might desperately try to use against her.
As the door slid open, however, there was little to fear. The Petraw that came out was young and in his natural appearance. There was a scared look to the eyes and the security chief noted the trembling hands against the scalp. With her right hand, she gestured for him to step forward out of the lethal room and he did, with hesitating steps. He was scared and she would have to act accordingly, since that meant he might panic or do something irrational. Vale nodded and Choloh stepped forward with restraints, which firmly affixed the Petraw's hands behind his back, and to a belt. There was no resistance, and finally Vale let out a breath and lowered the weapon.
"I will be damn well heard, Riker," bellowed Brisbayne.
"Captain, this is not open to discussion," Riker said, trying to contain himself. The argument stopped being interesting when the Mercury's captain began repeating himself, as if that would change the nature of the problem.
"Picard has been gone days, you've let the Petraw blow one of us up, I must insist on taking command of the mission."
Riker shook his head sadly, recognizing the mixture of bluster and frustration. Brisbayne was no doubt a fine officer, but his record did not indicate that he was at all equipped for commanding something of this nature.
"Sir, with all due respect," Riker continued, "were I willing to turn command over to someone, I would sooner give it to Desan or Grekor. You have shown a disrespect for the chain of command, while they both have the kind of strategic thinking this requires." He leaned into the camera, his face set in a stern expression. "But I have no intention of stepping down. Captain Picard will be given a little more time and then I will make a decision. I think we're done now." With a finger gesture learned from Picard, he signaled to Data to cut the communication.
"Commander, how much longer will you give Captain Picard?" Data inquired.
Riker settled back in the command chair, not at all comfortable. "Just a little bit more. Without him and the solution, we might have to destroy all the gateways."
"That would be a loss to the quadrant," Data said.
"I see you have not lost your sense of understatement."
Riker considered the chronometer and mentally decided on six more hours. Long enough to show Brisbayne who was in command, but short enough so he could act before too many more lives might be lost. From reports he read a little while earlier, two planets were already critically crippled by the Iconian technology adapting native energy to keep the gateways powered. A small war had broken out in an unaligned star system and raids by Cardassian pirates were reported along the Klingon border. It was painful to read, but Starfleet Command remained convinced that this delegation could solve the problem and he did not want to disappoint.
"Riker to La Forge."
"Go ahead, Commander."
"Just in case I need a Plan B, please begin estimating the minimal amount of explosive power required to take out each gateway." He could hear the whistle as La Forge processed the command.
"We've seen different sizes, so it'll take me a little time."
"You have four hours. Out."
As he had spoken with Geordi, Vale appeared on the bridge, bringing with her the Petraw saboteur. She smiled in triumph but had a fellow officer take charge of the prisoner, and she returned to her post, a finger trailing along the top displaying pride in ownership.
"Trouble?"
"Not at all, sir," she said.
Riker stood and moved closer to the prisoner, noting the panicked look in his eyes.
"We've ceased the hostilities with your people and are working to bring about an end to this madness. What makes you think you can ruin that with blowing up a ship?"
"To be free of you, to get back to our journey," the Petraw said.
"Do you have any idea the number of lives you've taken?" Riker was trying to modulate his voice, contain his anger, but it was a struggle.
"We do what we must to fulfill our goal," came the reply, and it sounded rote, as if it was something the Petraw were taught in school or church.
"And now you must pay. I'll wait for the captain to return to determine what that is. Have him taken to the brig an
d keep him away from Doral." Riker turned his back to the alien and resumed his place in the center seat. As he adjusted his position, he eyed his usual spot and wondered when things would return to normal.
"What do they do?"
Picard walked back to the console, hefting one of the Resonators, holding it above the control panels. He realized this would be tricky, explaining things to Chanik, but the boy deserved an answer.
"I believe this will give me control over the mechanism, something I lacked back home."
"Does this mean your quest for granita is over? You can return home now?"
"I hope so, Chanik," the captain said.
Gently, Picard lowered the device, trying to fit it over several of the control keys. After two failed attempts, the device fit snugly atop a cluster of amber and blue keys to the console's right. Moments after he placed it, the entire Resonator began to glow, adding significant light to the space. Other keys lit up and a thrum of power started up which startled the boy, who backed away several feet. The power sounded constant to Picard, impressed once more with how well the Iconians built things to last. He idly thought of how they compared with the poor Petraw, who had patchwork ships to show for their legacy.
After half a minute or so, a small ball of light began to form above the Resonator and one of the amber keys began to blink. The light grew in size and began to alter shape, forming a sphere that swelled to engulf the top of the control panel. Within the sphere, smaller swirls began forming, and Picard realized that it resembled nothing more than a model of the Big Bang theory. As the seconds passed, the stars began twinkling and the image altered slowly as galaxies formed and moved off camera, as it were. Picard felt Chanik at his side, the image too fascinating to ignore.
"Those are the stars, aren't they?"
"I believe so," Picard said softly.
"Why are we seeing so many?"
"I don't know. It may be trying to show us where the people who built this might have gone."
"Gone?"
"Hush," Picard said as the image changed and the Milky Way was clearly in his sight. The familiar spiral shape filled the light bubble and then, one at a time, purple lights began to show themselves in a concentration that Picard recognized as the Alpha Quadrant.
In all, there were thirteen purple lights.
Picard stared at the representation and concentrated. The amber light continued to blink, so Picard tentatively reached out, thinking he needed to activate the switch. His fingers brushed the blinking light but a sharp sound was his only reward.
"It didn't like you touching it," Chanik said, clearly stating the obvious.
Picard frowned and considered the likely options. After a minute or more, he realized he had no choice. He needed to return with the thirteen keys, then get them to the highlighted gateways. He suspected all thirteen consoles would have blinking lights and that none would do anything useful unless they were all touched at once. Fourteen pieces to a single key and somehow the Iconians didn't know that.
Somehow, this lack of precision comforted Picard. Even they were not perfect.
Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew the tricorder and recorded the light patterns and the purple markers. The Enterprise computers would be able to match this map against their own star charts and, adjusting for the time difference since these maps were first recorded, figure out where the keys needed to go.
Spinning on his heel, Picard strode to the antechamber, Chanik on his heels. "What's going on?" he kept asking. The captain ignored him at first, emptying his small bag of dried meat and other odds and ends. He then began filling it with the thirteen Resonators. There was little question in his mind that somehow all fourteen signals would synchronize and somehow they would gain control of the devices once that occurred. What troubled him, though, was the fourteenth key. Someone would need to activate it from this planet.
His first thought was sending the keys through a gateway and including an instruction to Riker and the others. It felt wrong - he needed to be there, be home when this happened. If the Resonators simply shut off the gateway, he would be trapped on this world. While it was a pretty place, he had no interest in remaining a Young God for the remainder of his life.
The next idea also had its concerns. Chanik would have to get involved but that raised concerns over tampering with a culture. On the one hand, the Iconians left these people to fend with their remains, and on the other, what harm could there be in asking a boy to press a button?
"Chanik, I must ask a favor of you."
"Of course, Picard," the boy said, eyes bright with excitement.
"I need to return to my people with these," he said, shaking the bulging bag slightly. "All of them must be fit onto similar machines and then all of us must press the blinking button. I think we need to do it at once."
"How will I know?"
Picard frowned at the basic question. He didn't have a definite answer and suspected he would not be able to speak with the boy.
"I'm not sure, to be honest. I think the machine will do something to indicate it is ready for you to do your part."
Chanik smiled and nodded a few times. "It will be safe, right? Then I will have helped a Young God!"
The captain broke into a happy grin. "Yes, it will be quite a story for your friends. But once this is done, I suspect the machine will go dark and you should keep its existence to yourself. It will be our secret." He returned to the console and studied it. His right hand began flipping switches, as he recalled doing on Doral's battered ship. There was a subtle shift in power and then a gateway sprang to life near the far wall. Chanik began to walk toward it but Picard called him back.
"But what is it?"
"It's called a gateway," Picard said as he concentrated on trying to recall the coordinate controls. He tapped a few, corrected a mistake, and continued. As happened on the ship, the gateway began spinning, showing different locales.
Each adjustment refined at least one of the destinations. Quickly, Picard spied a familiar waterfall on Risa, then a sand-swept city that he suspected was Nimbus VI. He continued to fiddle with the controls, hoping he could at least find a starship's bridge. A part of his mind suspected that thoughts did have some influence over the location definition. What was it he was telling Riker the other day? About a book where the lost man only wanted to go home. Picard thought about the Enterprise-1^ bridge as he continued to work on the controls.
The next image was not one for young eyes and Picard was pleased to see it replaced by a huge vessel, the likes of which he had never imagined. It was gone in a flash, the gateway next showing a satellite hurtling through space, a message of welcome from one race to its galactic neighbors.
There! He spotted La Forge walking across the rear of the bridge. The next two images were of planets he vaguely recognized but he paid them scant attention as he adjusted the controls. The Enterprise finally remained constant and Picard counted off time between rotations so he could step through correctly.
It was time.
Turning, he saw Chanik watch the gateway intently, occasionally looking at the galactic image still floating quietly over the console. He liked the boy and appreciated his company and his savvy under less than ideal situations.
"They dress like you; is that where the Young Gods live?"
"They are my companions and we try and do the right thing, much like you," Picard said. Then he crouched lower to bring his face close to the now-sad boy.
"I have no doubt that you will grow into a fine young man," the captain told him. "This world has much to offer someone like you. However, it is time I go home myself. I need to step through the gateway and leave you to wait for the right moment to act. I can't tell you how long it will be. Definitely more than a day."
"That's okay, Picard. I'll be fine. You've shown me so much and I can think about it. I'll be ready. You can count on me."
Picard reached out and gently stroked his cheek. "Thank you."
With that, he straight
ened his uniform and strode toward the gateway, counting off as it rotated. As the time approached, he bent his knees slightly and at the right moment, leapt into the gateway.
Chapter 6
Geordi La Forge was crossing the bridge, a PADD in his hand, and Riker knew it was coming time to make a decision. He didn't want to make it, didn't necessarily feel as if he was the right officer to decide the fate of the Iconian legacy. It was, after all, his captain's fascination for all these years. No, it didn't feel right at all to be the one to decide to destroy the gateways. The specter of guilt was already hanging over his head.
"We can do it, but we still don't know where they all are," La Forge said, handing the PADD to the commander.
"Data, how is Captain Solok doing with the mapping mission?"
