by Dayton Ward
Her expression one of relief, Bnira reached up to wipe perspiration from her face. “We do not have much time.”
“We will not require much,” Jodis replied as he removed the tanzal’s weapon belt and affixed it around his own waist. “I have already activated most of the key sequences.” Returning the pistol to its holster, he pushed himself to his station and settled back into his seat. “Once I engage the final protocols, the computer will carry out the remaining instructions. After that, it will be too late for anyone to do anything.”
Since his revival, he had given much thought to their original mission and the requirement or even desire to continue when it had become apparent that their objective was out of reach, separated by time from him and Bnira. The temporal displacement engine was beyond their ability to repair, which meant they were stranded in this time period, regardless of whatever other choices they might make. In the present, the war was already inflicting lasting damage to Uphrel and Henlona, with the Raqilan and Golvonek civilizations plunging headlong toward oblivion. Still, radical action might be sufficient to salvage the situation, and give both worlds a chance at healing and lasting peace.
Or, perhaps the threat would remain. As Picard had earlier intimated, completed and operational Poklori gil dara, even in its compromised state, presented a tempting prize to both sides, and the element of surprise Jodis and his crew would have enjoyed if the original mission had proceeded according to plan was gone. There would be no dramatic statement to announce the vessel’s presence and scare all parties into seeking all means to end the war. Such a declaration was still possible, of course, even if a new means of delivery was required.
Regardless, Jodis had decided that now was the time for sending that message.
“You know they will try to stop us, Jodis,” said Bnira. “They will have no choice.”
Jodis nodded. “They can try, but they will fail.”
Let us begin.
24
There were now entirely too many ships in this area of space, Picard decided.
Pacing a circle around the Enterprise bridge’s perimeter stations, he studied the formation of Raqilan ships displayed on the main viewscreen. Eight vessels, each of them seemingly identical to one another while bearing only the slightest resemblance to the ships Fleet Legate Mynlara commanded. Unlike the Golvonek vessels that were wide and angular, these new arrivals appeared more utilitarian in design. Dual cylindrical hulls connected to squat, rectangular units with superstructures projecting atop and below the main sections. Picard noted the openings at the front of both cylinders and a multitude of components and other features mounted along each ship’s center hull area. Something about their construction made him think the additional framework extending from the ships’ main hulls might be components retrofitted to the vessels’ original configuration. As with their Golvonek counterparts, the exterior of these ships featured dark hull plating and a distinct lack of external illumination. The ships, he concluded, were not at all attractive, but he supposed that they did not need to be, given their primary purpose.
“Sensors are picking up groups of smaller ships docked inside each of the vessels, Captain,” reported Aneta Šmrhová from her tactical station. “Though the larger ships are carrying some impressive weapons, I think they must be carrier-type vessels, meant to deploy groups of smaller fighter craft.”
Picard paused as he came abreast of the main viewscreen, his gaze fixed on the eight Raqilan craft. He expected them to break formation as they drew closer in an attempt to assert some sort of dominance over the Golvonek vessels already keeping station around the Arrow, but, to his surprise and relief, they remained on course and maintained their speed, offering no outward signs of aggression.
“Are their weapons armed?” he asked.
Šmrhová shook her head. “Nothing I can detect, sir.”
Seated at the conn station, Lieutenant Joanna Faur said, “It’s as if they’re going out of their way to be nice.”
“Not unreasonable,” Picard replied. “After all, we have something they want and don’t want the Golvonek to get their hands on, but whoever’s commanding those ships likely has orders to be on their best behavior when communicating with us.”
“I should know in a heartbeat if they try anything, and our own weapons should be enough to get us out of a jam, if necessary.” The security chief gestured toward the viewscreen. “I’m not saying I’d want a long, drawn-out fight, but we should be able to smack their noses if we have to.”
Picard allowed a small smile. “Agreed. Maintain yellow alert until further notice, but be ready with shields and weapons at my order.” He hoped that the Enterprise’s presence would be enough to keep the commanders on both sides from taking any sort of undue action toward their counterparts, but he wanted to be ready in case the situation soured.
Turning from the viewscreen, he directed his attention to Faur at the conn station. “Lieutenant, lay in an evasive course away from the middle of this. If for some reason the Raqilan or Golvonek decided they’re no longer interested in playing ‘nice,’ as you put it, I’m going to want some breathing room in very short order.”
Faur nodded. “Aye, Captain.”
An indicator tone sounded from Šmrhová’s console, and she reported, “Captain, we’re being hailed by one of the Raqilan ships.”
Finally, Picard thought. “On screen, Lieutenant.”
The image of the ships hovering around the Arrow was replaced by that of a Raqilan female standing at the center of a large control room. Unlike the military officers with their stark uniforms standing behind her or manning workstations in the background, she affected the air of a politician or other dignitary. Whereas the soldiers’ expressions were all but unreadable, hers was warm and welcoming as she stood with her hands clasped before her. Still, Picard’s instincts told him her smile was somewhat less than sincere.
Definitely a politician, he decided.
“Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Starship Enterprise,” she said, parroting his introduction from the message Lieutenant Šmrhová had been broadcasting since sensors had first detected the Raqilan ships, “I am Envoy Dnovlat, representing the people of Henlona. It is my supreme honor to speak with you on this day on behalf of all Raqilan.”
Stepping toward the viewscreen, Picard replied, “The honor is mine, Envoy. I bring you greetings from the United Federation of Planets, with whom we hope your people will want to foster peaceful and mutually beneficial relations.”
“We are aware of your declared mission of peaceful exploration, Captain, and I must admit to being awed at the prospect of undertaking a task of such noble purpose. Of course, we also understand that you know of our ongoing conflict with the Golvonek people.”
“Indeed we do,” Picard replied. “As I’ve previously told the Golvonek’s representative, it is not our desire or intention to interfere with your affairs, and we cannot take sides in your conflict. Our original mission called for us to determine whether making direct contact with either of your governments was appropriate.” It was interesting to him that the Raqilan had admitted to knowing about the Enterprise’s mission and reason for being here. She had just confirmed that at least some of the communications between Fleet Legate Mynlara and her superiors had been monitored by Raqilan assets. What else had they learned?
“I have been informed of this, as well,” Dnovlat said. Her expression faded a bit and she stepped forward, her image growing in the viewscreen. “In fact, I have heard it firsthand, from two of your most impressive representatives.”
She motioned to someone out of view, and a moment later Picard was forced to withhold an audible sigh of relief as Commander Worf and Lieutenant Dina Elfiki walked into the frame.
“Mister Worf,” he said. “Lieutenant Elfiki. It’s good to see you both. I trust you’re all right?” Both officers looked to be in excellent condition, with n
o visible signs of mistreatment, though Picard suspected the shuttlecraft and their individual equipment were at this very moment objects of intense scrutiny.
The Klingon nodded. “Yes, Captain. We have been treated quite well.”
“That’s good to hear,” Picard said. “Envoy Dnovlat, I thank you for returning my people safely to me.” He directed a brief glance to Lieutenant Šmrhová. “Number One, we’ll see about getting you back aboard ship in short order, once we’re finished here.” Another glance to the security chief was rewarded with her giving him a brief nod, the silent communication enough to tell him that she had interpreted his comments as he had hoped, and now had transporter locks on Worf and Elfiki.
Moving so that she once more stood at the center of the viewscreen image, Dnovlat extended her hands toward Picard. “As you have already suggested, Captain, we do still have matters to discuss. First and foremost, there is the fact that you and your crew have taken it upon yourselves to insinuate yourselves into our affairs.”
And there it is, Picard thought.
“If you are referring to the derelict vessel, Envoy, our discovering it was as unexpected as it was accidental, and when we detected signs of life aboard, we only investigated to render assistance.”
“Yes, that,” Dnovlat said, and to Picard it was obvious from her tone that she had been waiting for him to broach the topic of the Arrow. “As you can imagine, this presents some problems for us. My advisors are most concerned at this breaching of security and trespassing. After all, the Poklori gil dara is a military vessel.”
Clasping his hands behind his back, Picard replied, “Envoy, I think we both know that the situation is not quite so simple. There are . . . variables . . . to be considered with respect to the ship, as well as the reasons for being where we found it, would you agree?”
“Certainly, but there is another matter: this business with the Golvonek taking ownership of the Poklori gil dara as a seized military asset.” Dnovlat’s expression hardened. “Understand, Captain, that we do not recognize their claim, and we intend to do everything in our power to see that the vessel does not remain in their hands.”
Picard said, “This appears to be a matter which could benefit from mediation, Envoy. I have already been requested by the Golvonek to speak to leaders from both your worlds, and I would accept such an invitation if you or your superiors agreed to participate. It’s my understanding that both sides seek an end to this conflict. Perhaps this is an opportunity to explore such a possibility, and I would be privileged to assist in any way I can.”
From the tactical station, Šmrhová said, “Captain, we’re being hailed by Fleet Legate Mynlara’s ship.”
“On screen, Lieutenant,” Picard replied. “Split the image.” If there was going to be any attempt at speaking to both parties, he figured now was as good a time as any to begin that process. He could only hope that Dnovlat and Mynlara would see things his way.
There’s only one way to find out.
On the viewscreen, the display shifted so that Dnovlat occupied its left side, with its other half dominated by an image of Fleet Legate Mynlara.
“Captain,” the Golvonek began without greetings or other preamble, “we have been monitoring your communications with the Raqilan envoy.”
“Forgive me,” said Dnovlat, “but I am not in the habit of dealing directly with military officers, regardless of their station. Fleet Legate Mynlara, you are to remove all Golvonek from the Poklori gil dara at once, or we will be forced to view your actions as hostile.”
Stepping closer to the screen, Picard held up a hand. “Envoy Dnovlat, please. Let us not be too hasty.”
“View our actions as hostile?” snapped Mynlara. “Has that not been your way throughout this war? In your eyes, our very existence is a hostile action.”
The Raqilan emissary bristled. “I will not be lectured to by an underling.”
“Envoy,” Picard said, employing his firm, command voice. “Fleet Legate, this is getting us nowhere. Surely there is a way for the three of us to speak with one another in a civilized manner.”
Mynlara held up a closed fist. “My orders are clear, Captain. The Raqilan ship was a derelict, discovered in open space. We were here first, and we therefore claim it for the Golvonek. That it also carries a weapon capable of annihilating my people cannot be ignored, as we certainly cannot risk it being employed against us.”
Drawing a long, slow breath, Picard said, “Envoy Dnovlat, her concerns are valid. Given the threat the ship represents, perhaps this situation can spur renewed negotiations. I believe this is a unique opportunity to make significant strides toward the goal of lasting peace.”
“There can be no negotiations so long as the Golvonek insist on stealing our property,” Dnovlat replied.
Undeterred, Mynlara glowered out from the screen. “And I cannot surrender what may well be the instrument of our obliteration.”
“Then I see no need for further discussion.” Dnovlat pointed an accusatory finger toward the screen. “Captain Picard, I regret that the historic occasion of our first meeting must be under such circumstances, but as you can plainly see, we are at an impasse. My ship commanders are under orders to secure or destroy the Poklori gil dara at all costs.” She motioned once more to someone Picard could not see, but then two Raqilan soldiers stepped into view, each brandishing weapons as they moved to take up positions flanking Worf and Elfiki.
“Envoy, what are you doing?”
Dnovlat replied, “I am ensuring your cooperation in this matter, Captain. I apologize for this action, but I cannot allow you to interfere with our mission.”
“And I cannot allow you to threaten my people.” Picard waved a hand toward Šmrhová. “Now, Lieutenant.”
“Aye, sir,” replied the security chief, and Picard watched the viewscreen as columns of sparkling white energy showered Worf and Elfiki. It took just seconds for the transporter system to claim them, the officers disappearing before the eyes of Dnovlat, her soldiers, and everyone else on the screen before materializing at the front of the bridge.
“Welcome aboard, Number One,” Picard said as the beams faded. “And you, Lieutenant.”
From the viewscreen, Dnovlat’s voice was almost a shout. “How did you do that?”
“We have a multitude of tools and technology at our disposal, Envoy. Now, I implore you to demonstrate restraint. Surely there is common ground to be found here. You may well be squandering a singular opportunity to bring your people and the Golvonek together.”
“They have had generations to do so, Captain,” Mynlara countered. “It was they who started this war, and if they had wanted to end it, they could have at any time. Nothing will change. This monstrosity they have constructed only affirms their desire to conquer us once and for all. If you want the ship, Raqilan, you will have to fight for it.”
Dnovlat’s eyes narrowed. “So it shall be.”
“Captain!” Šmrhová called out. “Sensors are picking up weapons activating on both sets of ships, and I’m detecting energy signatures from a significant number of the smaller craft stored aboard the Raqilan vessels.”
“Raise shields,” Picard ordered. To Dnovlat and Mynlara, he said, “I still have people aboard that ship, who are in the process of leaving.” For that matter, where was the away team? Lieutenant Chen had reported their expected departure some time ago. Had it already been longer than a half hour since her last check-in? What was the delay? “I must now warn both of you that I will not tolerate any action taken against them.”
“If you are unwilling to recognize our property rights, Captain,” Dnovlat said, “then my government may be forced to view you as colluding with our enemy. If your people are aboard that vessel, they will be treated as prisoners of war.”
“Envoy Dnovlat,” Picard began, but it was too late, as the Raqilan diplomat had severed the communication, leaving
only Mynlara staring out from the viewscreen. “Fleet Legate,” he said, “there’s still a chance to keep this situation from escalating.”
The Golvonek’s expression was almost one of resignation. “I truly wish there was something else I could do, Captain, but the time for negotiation has passed. We have no choice but to defend ourselves.” She, too, ended the communication and her image vanished to be replaced by the Arrow and the Golvonek ships positioned around it.
“Sir,” Šmrhová called out, “the Raqilan ships are launching their fighters.”
“Go to red alert,” Worf ordered, having wasted no time resuming his duties as he and Elfiki proceeded to their stations. “All weapons to ready status.”
Turning from the viewscreen, Picard crossed to his command chair. “Conn, move us away from the Arrow. And where the hell is the away team?”
“I’ve been attempting to contact them, sir,” Šmrhová replied, “but I’m not getting any response. I’m not even able to tell if they’re receiving my messages. There’s some kind of disruption field emanating from inside the Arrow, but I can’t pinpoint the source.”
Picard settled into his seat. “Can you scan for their life signs?” The lack of communication was troubling. Had the away team run into trouble with the Golvonek detachment working to secure the Arrow? With the situation around the weapon ship deteriorating by the second, his options for regaining contact or even sending a rescue party after Beverly and the others were dwindling in rapid fashion.
“Already trying to do that,” said the security chief, “but the ship’s armor is still an issue with our sensors, even after our attempts to reconfigure.” A moment later, she added, “The Golvonek tow vessels are moving away from the Arrow, and the other ships are maneuvering into a defensive formation.”
“Bridge to engineering,” Picard said. “Mister La Forge, we need more power to the sensors to scan for the away team on the Arrow.”
Through the bridge’s intercom system, the chief engineer replied, “On it, Captain. I can’t make any promises, though.”