Part 4 (1/2)
”Very good. And how are the repairs coming to the Freedom?”
”Pretty well. We could be done with the reactors in about eight hours, if we rushed it. Other systems will take more time.”
”Don't rush it. Continue working on the Freedom, but make sure that you keep in touch with each repair crew. We don't have any reason not to help them, yet, but if it comes to that, I might want the s.h.i.+p not to be able to move. Strategically, it covers our bases.” He nodded at his officers. ”Very well, gentlemen-dismissed.”
”Force Commander, recon team six reports possible evidence of the objective,” the technician on the desk console before him said. ”A piece of debris which appears to be a remnant of the objective has been found.”
”Was it destroyed? What was the volume of the debris? Where was it located?” Sawliru demanded. He was seated in the enlisted men's lounge, one of the few safe havens from the mission commander. Alkirg would never bring herself to enter the meager s.p.a.ce allowed for mere enlisted personnel ... and, hopefully, wouldn't think that he would, either. He was, after all, an officer.
”U-unknown, Force Commander, I-”
”Well, find out! Give me some answers!”
”Yes, Force Commander, a moment please while I check-”
Sawliru cut him off abruptly, furious at the man. The first positive proof that the objective was even in this part of the galaxy, and the idiot didn't know any details! If there was proof that the objective was destroyed in the storm, they could safely return home from this fool's quest and begin to deal with the situation there. If not, then they would have to stay out here until it was.
He considered disciplining the man, but decided against it. Sawliru took a deep breath and relaxed. He was beginning to treat his own men as Alkirg was treating him, and he knew that was wrong. They were doing the best they could under difficult circ.u.mstances. He didn't need to make matters worse. He sighed, and devoutly wished for the days when the military was a straightforward, honorable profession, untainted by politics ... say, a million years ago. The console beeped again.
”Force Commander, only one piece of debris was in evidence, apparently jettisoned. Confirmed: The alloy matches that of the objective's construction.”
”Increase fleet scans of the area and double the recon search patterns in the region,” he ordered. ”Sawliru out.”
Progress, at least. The objective was still out there, apparently in the center of the storm-tossed area. Hopefully it had been destroyed, or incapacitated, or turned to mercury like those two scouts. He felt helpless in a situation like this, but there was little he could do ...
His console chirped again.
”Force Commander, recon team eleven reports sighting the objective, and team nine confirms. They request permission to give chase.”
”Negative!” Sawliru barked. ”Tell them to report back to their commanders and await further instructions. Recall all recon teams. Have all s.h.i.+ps begin battle formation six, and prepare for pursuit. The objective is not to escape. We will not have a repeat of Hevaride. Sawliru, out.”
He disconnected again, and ordered communications to connect this console to Alkirg's cabin.
Finally, he had something to tell her.
Jared sat with Kurta and Maran in the cramped briefing room of the Freedom. Before them on the screen was the frozen image of Jean-Luc Picard, captain of the gargantuan s.h.i.+p that hung menacingly outside the viewport on the far wall. He looked at the s.h.i.+p and imagined the kind of destructive potential it represented. The Earthmen had been very careful to emphasize the peacefulness of their mission and downplay the military aspects of Starfleet-perhaps a little too careful. Hiding aggression behind a nonchalant face was the oldest trick in the book.
”An invitation to dinner?” he asked suspiciously. ”No demand for our surrender, no hail of weapons fire, no curtly worded insistence on racial purity? Who are these people?”
”They are Starfleet officers,” supplied Maran, ”who pride themselves on their reputation for friendly a.s.sistance and racial tolerance. The entire Federation was built on those precepts, as you well know. You read the history Data provided, just like everyone else. We are in their debt for their aid.”
”If they meant to strike at us, they had ample time before the discovery,” commented Kurta.
”Yes, they did,” he admitted. Which either meant that they were, indeed, in earnest, or that they were playing some deeper game-like exploring the defenses of his s.h.i.+p. He didn't even like the fact that the cyborg, Geordi La Forge, had access to the s.h.i.+p's plans-but Dren had insisted. The main weapons weren't listed on the plans, anyway. They had been put together by the androids long after the Freedom had been built. ”But then they did not know what we were. Perhaps I am used to seeing dangers that aren't there. But my caution has saved us on more than one occasion. I won't let that slip now, just because of what a book says.”
”Jared, this isn't like home,” Maran said. ”These people aren't from Vemla. They have an android among them, as a ranking officer. They treat him as an equal.” She stressed the last word pa.s.sionately.
”I know, I know, I met Mr. Data. He's a somewhat crude design,” remarked Jared critically. In fact, the innocuous Starfleet android reminded him of an advanced model in some ways, but his obvious machinelike demeanor irritated Jared. Could not the Federation manage to produce a more streamlined, more subtle design than this?
”I spoke with him at length,” Kurta interjected, ”and his exterior crudity is actually an advantage when dealing with his crewmates. His obviously artificial skin conceals a highly sophisticated interior. He is unique among them, a prototype. And despite his strangeness, he is treated by them as a partner, not a slave. Jared, this could be our chance!” she pleaded.
”Perhaps.” He sighed. ”I want to be sure of our newfound friends, that's all.” He was tired of debating. He far preferred action; Jared felt he had truly come into his own when he stepped onto the decks of the Freedom as captain and sole arbiter of what was to be. It was not in him to be a politician. He was not fond of talk, like Maran and Kurta-which is why he relied so heavily on each of them at times such as now. But he earnestly wanted his people to have a world of their own. He just wanted them to do it their own way, not as the p.a.w.ns of some organic race.
”And what about this invitation?” Jared continued. ”If we go, they will hound us with demands to make account of ourselves. They will insist on controlling us. We will have to start all over again. We will have to betray our pride to satisfy their preconceptions. We will-”
”-be in uniform and ready to transport at the designated time,” Kurta said firmly.
”Who's the captain here?” Jared demanded.
”You are, and where the welfare of the s.h.i.+p is concerned, you make the decisions. However, you alone do not decide the course of our destiny. You put me in charge of long-term strategy-and this is an important strategic gathering. This could be our only chance to present our case without a dissenting voice in the background. You read their history-you know of their customs. And their reputation for open-mindedness and toleration. It is doubtful that they will clap us in irons as soon as we board the s.h.i.+p-not that they have any irons that could hold us. Think of it this way-we will see much more of their s.h.i.+p than they suspect, which will provide valuable intelligence in case direct action is called for. My husband, this is one engagement we have to win. It is as important as any battle you have ever fought.”
Jared shook his head. He had not risked his life hundreds of times, seen good friends die, risked the entire s.h.i.+p and all aboard, come through the most ferocious s.p.a.ce storm he had ever known only to throw everything away by walking into a potential trap disguised as a dinner party. It was madness!
Jared looked back at the gleaming Federation s.h.i.+p. Its lines were smooth, dynamic, nearly organic compared to his own s.h.i.+p's blocky manufactured look. Void take it, it was purely majestic! Sensor scans, what they could get, revealed over a thousand organic beings, and computers and G.o.ds knew what other kinds of advanced technology. The weaponry alone would be worth the trip. Jared loved the Freedom with every fiber of his being, and was proud as could be to be her captain, yet his command looked paltry beside the Enterprise. He wanted to see the vessel up close. Walk through its corridors and feel its might. Have the technology explained to him by those who knew it best. See its wonders, and hear the wondrous tales of its crew. With a s.h.i.+p like that, he could build an empire-or explore the galaxy and shake loose its wonders.
So be it, then. He would go on this outing to see that s.h.i.+p and test the mettle of its captain.
He smiled at Kurta. ”Very well, you win. I will go and smile and shake hands and make idle chatter and hope we are not destroyed out of hand. Will that satisfy you?” he asked, only half sarcastically.
”Yes, it will. I have prepared a list of people to make up our side of the occasion ...”
A sudden inspiration struck him. ”You may choose who you like, but I want them in particular to see one of us ...”
The captain and Commander Riker, clad in dress uniforms, met the Vemlan party in the main transporter room. The aliens had never experienced transporters before, and Picard wanted to be on hand personally to soothe any anxiety they might have.
Five figures materialized on the pads in front of them. Picard recognized Jared and guessed that the woman to his immediate right was Kurta, the executive officer that Riker and Data had talked to. He also identified Maran, the librarian, and Dren, the Vemlan chief engineer from his crew's descriptions. But next to Jared was a figure of mammoth proportions.
He stood a good foot taller than his companions. His shoulders stretched the fabric of his tan uniform to the limits, and seemed in danger of bursting it. The man-the android, Picard corrected himself-had a lantern jaw and a cauliflower ear, and black, limp, lifeless hair. He stood pa.s.sive, unmoving, as if waiting for someone to turn him on.
Picard had to force himself not to react.
”Captain Picard,” called Jared evenly, but with enthusiasm, as he stepped down from the transporter platform. ”What an efficient way to travel! It is far superior to our shuttles.”
”It's almost like magic, being in one s.h.i.+p one second, and another the next. I am in awe of your technology,” Kurta said, smiling.
”Indeed,” Jared said. ”I don't believe you have met my crew.” He proceeded to introduce each of his officers ending by placing his hand on one of the ma.s.sive arms of the giant. ”This is Garan.”
The giant peered down at the two Starfleet officers and extended a ma.s.sive hand in greeting.
”I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Captain Jean Luc-Picard,” the android said, slowly and very seriously. ”I thank you for your gracious invitation.”
”My pleasure, Garan,” replied Picard. Garan looked around the room with vague interest, then returned to the eyes-front position in which he had beamed over. Picard couldn't help but stare. Perhaps his reaction would have been different if the other Vemlans weren't so physically identical to humans. In any case, Garan was simply the biggest, most ma.s.sive humanoid Picard had ever met. Polite, though, he thought, noting Garan's carefully spoken greeting.
As they all were, despite their mechanical nature. The s.h.i.+p's short-range sensors were working-erratically-and he had ordered a scan of the Freedom. There were no life signs. Which just confirmed what they already knew.
”I suggest we adjourn to the banquet room,” Picard said, tearing his eyes away from Garan. He led the Freedom's crew out of the transporter room into the corridor. Jared kept pace at his side.
”Captain, I heard about the unfortnnate accident in your engine room. I hope that your crewman wasn't seriously hurt,” Picard said, concerned.
Jared's smile faltered for a brief second, but he quickly recovered. ”Deski is fine, Captain. I appreciate your concern. He will be back at work on the engines before we are finished with dinner.”