Star Trek: The Next Generation - 119 - Armageddon's Arrow (11 page)

“But talking to a computer isn’t exactly what you were counting on, right?” asked Konya.

Chen shrugged. “Let’s just say that it doesn’t arouse the same level of intense curiosity that might come from talking directly to our friends sleeping upstairs.”

Needless to say, she was rooting for Doctor Crusher.

11

“Bridge to Captain Picard.”

Sitting in the recliner in his small study with a book propped in his lap, Picard glanced at the chronometer. It was less than two hours before the start of alpha shift, and only ninety minutes since Beverly had awakened so that she along with Commanders Worf and La Forge and their away team might get an early start on their ongoing survey of the alien vessel, which now was into its third day. Unable to sleep with her away, Picard had attempted to lose himself in the pages of a book. Through the open door leading to his son’s bedroom, he could hear the sounds of soft breathing. Satisfied that neither the intercom signal nor Commander Aiden Lynley’s voice had roused René from slumber, he said in a soft tone, “Picard here.”

“I apologize for disturbing you sir
,
”
replied the gamma shift watch officer,
“but long-range sensors have detected the approach of two vessels on an intercept course. They’re traveling at warp one point four, outbound from System 3955
.
”

“Do you have a visual on them?”

“Yes, sir. Already routing a feed to you.”

Setting aside the book, Picard reached for the computer terminal on his desk and pressed its activation control. The image on the interface’s screen shifted from a Federation logo to show a pair of vessels, traveling together but in a loose formation. The ships were of near-identical design, each looking like a wedge with a squat, wide contour that gave him the impression of blades slicing through whatever obstacle appeared in their paths. Dark hull plating and a lack of exterior lighting almost made the ships disappear into the dark curtain of open space behind them. Only the computer’s imaging processor, working from the information it received from the
Enterprise
’s sensors, allowed the vessels to be seen with such detail. Instinct told Picard that these ships were military in nature.

“Can you trace their course back to a point of origin?” Picard asked, reaching up to rub his chin.

Lynley said,
“We’re not able to pinpoint an exact starting point, sir, as their approach was partially masked by the sun, but given what we know of the system, it has to be either the second or third planet
.
”

“What about their weapons or defenses?”

“Sensors are picking up particle beam weapons, but no deflector shield technology. It’s more like an ablative armor, similar to the weapon ship but not nearly as durable. Still, if both of the ships ganged up on us, or called for some friends to help them, we might have a problem, but that’s a tall order. Their propulsion is basically first-generation warp drive, sir. Assuming they did come from one of the system’s two habitable planets, at this distance it would take nearly seven hours for reinforcements to arrive.”
After a moment, Lynley added,
“They’ve also got sensor technology, but it’s not as sophisticated as ours. Still, I’m guessing they’re looking us over and probably a little worried about what they’re seeing
.
”

“I can imagine,” Picard said. If the approaching vessels’ sensors were advanced enough to scan the
Enterprise
, then their crews already knew that the starship outclassed their own craft in capability. He hoped that would be enough to forestall any ill-advised acts of aggression. “Estimated time to intercept?”

“Three hours forty-three minutes at their present speed, sir
.
”

Nodding in approval, Picard ordered, “Maintain yellow alert, Commander. Weapons offline until further notice, but keep the shields up.” The shield generators had only been restored to full functionality within the last few hours, and he was still leery in the wake of the unexpected attack from the derelict and its overly zealous automation system that had incapacitated them in the first place. “I’m on my way.”

After contacting the specialist on duty in the ship’s childcare center and requesting assistance, Picard took a moment to look in on René, who still had not stirred. While it was not unusual for both him and Beverly to be away from their quarters at odd hours, he still felt a pang of guilt at having to call for someone to look after their son when circumstances required him to be elsewhere. That, and he knew he might not be here when the boy awakened, thus depriving Picard of their habitual shared breakfast.

Duty calls
.

The early hour, at least so far as the ship’s clocks and schedule were concerned, saw to it that he encountered no one on the way from his quarters to the bridge, where he found Commander Aiden Lynley standing at one of the tactical stations behind the captain’s chair. Lynley had been a tactical officer earlier in his career, and it was not uncommon to find the watch officer operating any of the bridge consoles during his duty rotation, as he tended to use the often-quiet hours of gamma shift to maintain his training and certifications in various areas of starship operations.

“Good morning, sir,” Lynley said, nodding in greeting as Picard stepped out of the turbolift. “Sensors show there’s been no change in the ships’ course or speed, and they’re running right about at their maximum velocity. They’re still heading in our general direction, and they’ve definitely attempted to scan us with whatever they have that passes for sensor technology.”

Picard moved to stand just behind the ops and conn stations. “Open a hailing frequency. Let’s see if they’re interested in talking.” He waited, counting off the seconds he knew were required for the standard signal to be transmitted and received. What were the captains of the approaching vessels thinking as they considered their options for responding to what was hoped to be a request for peaceful communication?

“We’re getting a reply, sir,” Lynley reported after a moment. “The language is consistent with one of the thirty-eight we found represented in the alien ship’s computer records.”

Now things are getting interesting
, Picard thought. Were these people looking for their lost ship? If so, why now? Had the
Enterprise
’s arrival on the outskirts of the system been detected? Those were questions requiring answers, to be sure, but despite them, Picard felt a familiar rush of enthusiasm already coursing through him. It had been some time since he had made first contact with a heretofore unknown species, and though he had done so on nearly thirty previous occasions, the thrill of carrying out one of the most anticipated and cherished duties of a starship commander never failed to excite him.

“On screen, Commander.”

In response to his order, the image shifted from that of the approaching ships to what appeared to be a female humanoid. A long mane of stark white hair framed a slim face with a high forehead and prominent cheekbones tapering down to an almost pointed jaw. Brilliant emerald eyes peered out at Picard from beneath a protuberant brow that curved along the sides of her yellow-green face to disappear beneath the hair on the sides of her head. She wore a wine-colored one-piece garment that featured ornate embroidery on the sleeves and around the neck, and appeared tailored to fit her slender frame to an exacting degree.

Behind her was what looked to be a command center or bridge with a half-dozen consoles visible, each facing toward the viewscreen and manned by a female or male of similar physiology. Hair color varied, and two of the personnel, a female and a male, had no hair at all. They all wore matching uniforms, with the only distinction from person to person being the amount and patterns of the embroidery on their sleeves. As for the female who was their apparent leader, her expression was unreadable, her eyes fixed on him from across the void separating them.

“Greetings,” he said, stepping closer to the viewscreen. “I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard, commanding the
Starship Enterprise
and representing the United Federation of Planets. We have come on a mission of peaceful exploration and are honored to make your acquaintance.”

“I am Mynlara, Fleet Legate of the Golvonek Protective Directorate, and commanding the expeditionary vessel
Calkurizar
.
It is I who am honored to meet you today, Captain
.” She paused, her expression softening.
“We have heard stories of great civilizations living far away among the distant stars, and it is the dream of many a Golvonek child to journey from our home system in the hopes of meeting such people
.
”

Despite his poised demeanor, Picard could not help allowing a small smile. “Our exploration of this region includes visiting what I presume is your home system, and investigating the inhabited worlds to see whether we might make formal contact with your government. It is the mission of my people to search for intelligent life wherever it may reside in the galaxy, in the hopes of opening a dialogue and perhaps forming a lasting and mutually beneficial friendship. The Federation is a cooperative of nearly two hundred worlds and civilizations, but we are always hoping to meet and welcome new friends.”

It was obvious to him that Mynlara, like him, was a veteran leader and accustomed to maintaining her bearing in all manner of situations, but he still saw the flicker of surprise in her eyes as she listened to his descriptions. She had every reason to be astounded by the information she had just received. Based on their demonstrated technology, there would have been almost no chance of traveling to worlds in another solar system, let alone one possessing a civilization similar to her own, and now to confront someone claiming to speak for nearly two hundred such planets? Picard believed she could be forgiven any momentary lapses in composure.

Of course, all of this would be true had the
Enterprise
encountered the
Calkurizar
within the boundaries of System 3955. That Mynlara had seen fit to venture into the interstellar void suggested another purpose, doubtless related to the mammoth vessel drifting beyond his own vessel’s port bow. For the moment—and setting aside the possible time travel component affecting the current situation—Picard decided that honesty was the prudent course.

“Fleet Legate, while en route to your system, we detected the presence of a rather large spacecraft drifting in open space. Our initial scans of the vessel indicated that most of its power systems were inactive, though we did detect life-forms aboard. I sent a team to the ship to investigate and see if we could be of assistance.” Though he knew the answer to the question he was about to pose, he asked it anyway. “Do you know anything about this vessel?”

On the screen, Mynlara appeared to be contemplating her own options, though to her credit her delay before responding was but a single brief moment.
“We only became aware of its presence a short time ago. One of our outlying early warning stations detected an energy signature as well as a communications signal
.
”
She paused, as though once more considering how to proceed, before adding,
“Our scans indicate it
is rather large. So large, in fact, that it actually masked your own ship’s presence until we drew closer
.
”
Her lips pressed together, as though she realized she had offered more information than intended. Had she offered an inadvertent admission about her vessel’s sensor capabilities?

Setting aside that thought, Picard replied, “The ship’s size is indeed impressive, though it appears to possess a very small crew. My team found eight individuals, all in a state of cryogenic suspension. Unfortunately, six of them died while in hibernation. The other two remain in stasis, and my chief medical officer is attempting to revive them.” Then, playing another hunch, he said, “Perhaps you can assist us in identifying the crew and even ascertaining where they’re from. I can tell you that based on visual evidence, they do not appear to be representatives of your world.” Without waiting for an answer, he looked over his shoulder to Lynley. “Commander, retrieve an image of one of the crew members from the away team’s tricorder data and transmit it to the Golvonek vessels.”

“Aye, sir,” replied the watch officer. A moment later, he looked up from his console as the main viewscreen shifted to include an inset image of one of the hibernating aliens from the derelict.

To Mynlara, Picard said, “Do you recognize this species, Fleet Legate?” Even as he asked the question, he saw the recognition in her eyes. Her posture straightened, and her voice took on a more official tone as her gaze locked once more with his.

“Captain, I must now inform you that I am obligated to take custody of that vessel, as it is a military craft in service to the Raqilan, with whom we are currently at war
.
”

Picard had expected such a response and decided that remaining truthful still was the best way to proceed. “I have only recently learned of this conflict between your worlds. It is not our wish to interfere in your affairs, or to take sides. However, my people are aboard that vessel in the hopes of assisting its crew.”

“That is my duty to perform, Captain,”
Mynlara countered.
“The Raqilan aboard that ship will be taken into custody, after which they will be processed and classified as prisoners of war
.
”