"I've no experience with it at all."
"Then you're going to learn on the fly. Omon," he called to the Dog who was seated at navigation. "Work with our passenger here as best you can. See if you can reach some mutual agreement as to where we're headed... before I become bored with her."
If she was intimidated by the thinly veiled threat of that last comment, she didn't let it show at all. Instead she walked over to the navigation station.
For some minutes, Omon showed her the basics, and she nodded steadily in comprehension. It was something of a crash course, but she kept nodding steadily. "Do you truly understand all of this?" Omon asked her at one point.
"You said you've never done anything like this before."
"I know. I haven't. But nevertheless it seems... vaguely familiar. I'm not sure why it does, but it does." She paused a moment, and then pointed and said,
"Here. At 418 Mark 3. Take us over there, but slowly. Very slowly. I don't want to rush us into anything."
"Very considerate," Rier said. "Omon. Is there anything where she's indicating?"
"A nebula. That's all."
"Sensor probes?"
"Less than effective with a nebula."
Rier nodded. He knew that, of course. Still, he felt he had to ask.
As the ship inched towards the nebula, Rier's brow furrowed as he studied it. It did not look unique. It was a standard issue, gaseous nebula, as near as he could tell. A gigantic cloud of gas and raw cloud material, but that was all.
"Sensor sweep, as much as you can discern," said Rier. He took a step closer to the screen, as if somehow the additional proximity would make a difference.
Atik checked the sensor array. "Still nothing. I'm not..."
The fact that his voice trailed off was enough to command Rier's attention.
"What is it?"
"Getting something, on the outer rim of the nebula... dead ahead. Except..." He shook his head. "This isn't possible."
"What isn't?"
"The sensors are telling me now that it's not there."
"Impossible. Either it's there or it's not. It can't be there and not there."
"It's possible that it could," Atik said reasonably. "If there's some sort of field distortion, the planet itself could be in a state of quantum flux somehow.
Or it could be something as simple as the make-up of the nebula itself. The cloud could be bouncing our tactical signals back at us, causing a sort of... of ghost planet."
"And no one has ever detected this 'ghost planet' out here before?"
Atik shook his head. "A simple charting sweep of the region wouldn't necessarily detect it. The nebula is thousands of miles wide. You'd have to know exactly where you're looking, and even then-"
"All right, all right," Rier waved off further discussion impatiently. Instead he turned to Riella. "Is that it? Is that the Quiet Place?"
He excepted some sort of cryptic response, but instead she simply nodded.
"It is?"
"Yes."
"Focus full sensor probes on that world!" ordered Rier. "If there's some sort of cover, if there's something resisting our probes, punch through it!"
The nebula was becoming more and more distinct on the screen the closer they got, and Rier could even make out the general outlines of the planet. The screen began to fuzz over slightly, but Atik made some adjustments and the picture snapped back into view.
Unfortunately, that was all Atik was able to accomplish. He shook his head in frustration and said, "I'm not getting anything on it now. It's like a sensor black hole. It's absorbing all my probes and not giving anything back."
"Assemble a team," Rier said. 'Transport them down and they can see what is and isn't there."
Omon turned to Rier and said, "Are you sure that's wise?"
Immediately, there was dead silence among the half-dozen dogs on the bridge. All eyes went to Rier as he said very calmly, very dangerously, "Are you questioning me, Omon?"
"No," Omon said immediately.
Slowly Rier nodded. "Good. That would be unfortunate."
"I know."
The pack, consisting of three dogs, was quickly assembled and brought to the transporter room. They stood there on the transporter pad, dressed in environmental suits since none of them had the slightest idea whether the planet could support life or not-although, considering the conditions around it, it seemed rather unlikely.
"Remain in constant touch," Rier said, pacing back and forth slowly. Riella was standing off to the side, saying nothing, as he continued, "If there is the slightest problem, we will bring you back up. If we don't hear from you, we will bring you back up."
"Will you be able to maintain transporter lock even though we're having troubles with our sensors?" asked one of the Dogs. He didn't seem challenging; just a bit apprehensive. Truly, it was hard to blame him.
Rier glanced to the transporter chief, who nodded. "I am told that we will,"
Rier said confidently. "Good hunting."
The pack snapped off a salute and moments later the transporter beams flared to life. The dogs dissolved in a burst of molecules...
... and immediately ricocheted back.
It happened with no warning at all, and the transporter chief yelped out,
"Something's wrong! They're coming right back! And their patterns are all over the place, I can't lock down, I can't-!"
What appeared on the transporter pad then did not look remotely like the pack who had been standing there a moment earlier. It was all three of them, slammed together as if redesigned by an insane child with a Dogs-of-War-parts kit. One of them was making something vaguely akin to a howling noise, while the others were just flailing about, an arm here, a leg there, a finger protruding from the eye of one of them. A huge, throbbing, gelatinous mass of fur and bone with a pulse.
"Get it out!" shouted Rier. "Beam it into space! Beam it anywhere! Get it off the ship!"
The abomination that had once been three individual dogs vanished before it became fully formed. Rier gasped in revulsion over what he had seen, and then he turned on Riella and snarled, "Did you know that was going to happen!"
"No."
"Did you think it might?"
"I thought it possible, yes."
He waved his paws around in fury. "Then why didn't you say so!"
"You didn't ask."
He tried to contain his fury over her calm answer, and failed. Instead his arm lashed out, struck her across the chest, and knocked her down. She fell against the wall, but didn't utter a sound. Instead she just stared blandly up at him, as if daring him to do it again... or, more likely as if she didn't care whether he did it again or not.
Rier took a long moment to compose himself, and when he finally managed to do so, he said to her levelly, "What would you recommend we do?"
"Shuttle to the surface. Send me down in the shuttle. I, after all, am supposed to be there. So no harm will come to me."
"Your confidence in your imperviousness is truly charming. Do you share similar sentiments for us?"
"No. But I was unaware that the Dogs of War only did that which was safe."
There was no challenge in her voice, no sense of derision. She had spoken calmly, even with a mild air of curiosity, as if trying to determine what was and was not acceptable to the Dogs of War. Still, there was something about her attitude that Rier didn't entirely like. But he couldn't help but feel that attacking her just because of a passing remark might come across as a bit of an overreaction.
"Very well, then," Rier said. "We shall make a survey of the world from a shuttle. See if it is habitable or capable of being surveyed. The Dogs of War do not court merely safety, but we have not survived as long as we have by garnering a reputation for foolhardiness, either."
She inclined her head slightly to accept what he was saying, although he still wasn't certain whether she was simply being deferential or subtly sarcastic. He decided that if she was so subtle that no one realized it, then it really
didn't matter all that much.
Moments later, Rier was back on the bridge, informing his crew of the new plans.
There was a singular lack of enthusiasm among them.
"It's a trick! It's some sort of trick, it has to be!" said Krul.
Omon indicated the image on the screen that continued to flicker in definition.
It was no wonder that the sensors were so pathetic as far as the nebula was concerned; it was tough enough just maintaining a visual lock. If they had actually had to enter the nebula in order to get within range of the planet, they'd probably have almost no visual to speak of. All they would see would be a large, fuzzy spot that might or might not be a planet. "Somehow, this is not what I was expecting when I first heard the legends of the Quiet Place. This world barely seems as if it's there at all."
"What did you expect, then?" inquired Rier. "A plethora of riches and immortality, there for the taking, easily located upon a world in well-traveled spaceways with great lights arcing from it and giant letters in orbit spelling out 'Welcome to the Quiet Place'?"
Openly annoyed, Rier stalked the bridge and sneered, "Look at you, quivering!
Are you Dogs? Or are you men?"
And then Atik was on his feet. "I am with you, Rier."
There was only a moment's hesitation, and then Omon said, "Speaking my mind is not the same as being craven. My fangs and claws are yours, Rier, as always."
There were similar shouts of affirmation from throughout the bridge, and Rier nodded in approval.
"Omon and Krul, you're with me. And Krul go down and roust Vacu, in case we're in need of muscle. Atik you will remain in charge here until my return."
Atik nodded and saluted. "What about the girl?"
"The girl will come with us. She will lead us to the Quiet Place, as she has claimed she will."
"And if she does not?" asked Omon.
'Then she will die."
"And if she does?"
"Then she will die."
"A simple, elegant plan," said Omon.
Rier smiled as much as his maw would allow him. "I am so pleased you approve."
As the shuttle angled downward, the sensor arrays of the vessel swept the surface of the planet. Rier studied it thoughtfully, his dark eyes narrowing, and he glanced over at Riella. She no longer seemed quite as detached as she had earlier. She actually seemed involved in the moment, even a bit excited. "Feel as if you're coming home, do you?" he asked.
She nodded but didn't speak.
Rier turned in his chair and faced Omon. "What have you got so far?"
Omon shook his head. "It's a fortunate thing we brought the environment suits.
So far, from the look of it, the surface is completely uninhabitable. Frankly, even the suits might not do us much good. A great deal of magma on the surface, and much of the-"
Riella suddenly gasped, putting her hand to her breast. "What's the matter with you?" demanded Rier, but still she said nothing. She just shook her head slowly, like someone in a daze.
"Rier-"
He looked back to a clearly puzzled Omon. "What now?"
"Hold on... let me double check," said Omon, as if not quite trusting his readings. He nodded once more to confirm it for himself. "I have no idea how it got there... I didn't see it on the first sweeps-"
"See what? What are you talking about?"
"A small section of the planet. Very small, not more than a mile or so in diameter. It's some sort of anomaly... like an atmospheric oasis."
"A what?"
"I'm not quite sure how else to describe it," said Omon.
Krul growled softly. Obviously, he was less than enthused about the entire business, but he wisely said nothing, less it be misinterpreted as cowardice.
Vacu, over in a corner, snored softly, doubtlessly waiting for someone to awaken him at some point and tell him what needed to be crushed, hit, or destroyed.
"I don't understand it," admitted Omon. "It's possible that I missed it on the first sweep. It's small enough. Or perhaps, it simply... appeared."
"How very mysterious," said Rier. He looked to Riel- la. "Is that where we're supposed to go, eh? It seems to be inviting us."
Still she did not speak. Rier was beginning to lose patience with her. He went to her and, gripping her by the shoulders, half pulled her from her chair.
"Well? Is that it? Is that where we're supposed to go?"
She looked at him then-really looked-and Rier suddenly felt as if her gaze was boring straight through into the back of her head. He released her without even knowing that he had done so, and she slid noiselessly back into her seat.
Suddenly the communications board crackled to life. Atik's voice came over it, and it was difficult to make out anything he was saying as the nebula interfered mightily with the transmission. It was all Rier could do to piece together what was being said. "Encountered... resistance. Two ships-"
'Two ships, yes, I hear you," said Rier quickly, wanting to get as much of the message as possible should he lose the band entirely.
"Small Thallonian vessel... and a Federation shuttlecraft..."
The Federation again! His teeth hurt with a longing to tear apart some of the
Federation bastards who had made their lives so irritating. "And what happened?"
"We're fine. No significant damage. Thallonian vessel crippled-"
"And the Federation ship? The shuttle?"
There was a pause, more crackling.
"Say again?"
"Shuttle destroyed."
Rier nodded approvingly. "Well done. If the Thallonian ship somehow managed to survive, we'll easily be able to dispense with him. As for the shuttle, the less of those sniveling cretins running about, the better." He laughed softly at his own small jest.
"Nice piloting there, Kebron."
Zak Kebron said, "It's the name."
"What name?"
"The Marquand. It's the second shuttle we've lost by that name. It's cursed."
"I don't believe in curses."
"I do," said Xyon at the helm of the Lyla.
"Don't be a fool."
"A fool, Cwan? Excuse me, but need I point out that this is my ship? That you people beamed over here when your shuttle was about to be blown out of space?"
"While your ship was hiding safely under its cloak," Cwan said disdainfully.
"Right. And I can't understand why you haven't outfitted all your Federation vessels with similar devices."
"We of the Federation have a policy of approaching situations in an open and above-board manner. Such a policy is antithetical to the technology of the cloaking device," Soleta informed him. "We have to offer an alternative to such nefarious races as the Romulans."
"Right, an alternative. You're targets, they're not."
"Can we stay focused?" said Si Cwan. "Bickering isn't going to find Kalinda." He stepped forward, leaning over Xyon who was at the helm. "That shuttle that left the Dog war vessel, can you keep up with it?"
"It's not easy," Xyon said reluctantly. "Sensor tracking is sketchy at best. I'm relying mostly on sight and gut instinct."
"Gut instinct. Wonderful," said Kebron.
"I would not be quite so dismissive, Zak," Soleta said. "McHenry pilots the Excalibur with much the same method."
"Don't remind me."
"There was another vessel in the short-lived encounter with the Dogs," Soleta said. "Kebron, Cwan. Do you have any speculations as to who it might have been?"
"Zoran," Cwan said immediately before Kebron could even take a breath. "It has to be. I will find him and kill him."
"If we encounter him and he can be made a prisoner, that will be the direction taken. You cannot simply kill him in cold blood," Soleta said.
"He is my oldest friend. I have earned the privilege."
Kebron glanced significantly at Soleta. "Now you see why I have no interest in being his friend."
"The shuttle is heading towards the planet," said Xyon abruptly. "Lyla, track ahead
on their course. Are they heading towards anything?"
"There is a small area on the planet surface that appears to contain breathable atmosphere," Lyla promptly responded. "If they maintain their current heading, that will be their landing point."
Star Trek - NF - 07 - The Quiet Place Page 21
