INVASION!, BOOK TWO: THE SOLDIERS OF FEAR

by Dean Wesley Smith

  She was aware of the risks as well. Most likely neither Worf nor Will Riker would return.

  Picard wouldn’t lose two good men in a failed mission if he had anything to say about it.

  The Enterprise rocked again.

  “Shields holding,” Eckley said.

  “Return fire,” Picard said.

  But as he stared at the screen, he didn’t watch his own battle. He watched the shuttlecrafts.

  Redbay broke off his run, veering to starboard to give Riker a clear path to the wormhole.

  “Another Fury ship is emerging from the wormhole,” Data said.

  “Warn Commander Riker!” Picard shouted, but it was too late. In horror Picard watched as Riker moved his shuttle in a quick series of moves to a course that would take it speeding past the new Fury ship and into the wormhole.

  Only the Fury ship had another plan.

  With a phaser burst it sent Riker’s shuttle tumbling, then moved after it like a bully chasing a small victim,

  “Move to intercept that new ship,” Picard ordered.

  The deck rocked from the impact of a phaser blast from the one ship they already were fighting.

  “Shields failing on decks fifteen through twenty,” Data said.

  “Mr. La Forge,” Picard said to the air in front of him. “Can you give me an uninterrupted phaser blast, sustained for three seconds?”

  “Yes, sir.” La Forge’s voice sounded strong and confident. “But the shot will be a drain.”

  “Then drain us, Mr. La Forge,” Picard ordered.

  “Aye, sir.”

  Picard turned to tactical. “Lieutenant Dreod, target that new ship with a three-second laser shot at full intensity.”

  The young lieutenant nodded. “Ready.”

  Picard turned to look at the screen. If the Furies had tried to interrupt the Enterprise shields by varying the modulation, then their ships must use the same type of modulating shield. A sustained blast to that type of shield should bring it down.

  The new ship was moving slowly after Riker’s shuttle. Will might already be dead in there, but those Furies were going to pay the price for killing his first officer. “Fire!”

  The laser blast seemed to last for an eternity. And before it had ended, the shields of the Fury ship had gone from blue to a bright red and then disappeared. The ship exploded like a kid’s balloon stuck by a pin.

  Picard felt no joy. No happiness.

  Riker was too far from the wormhole. Even if he turned around, he probably didn’t have a chance. Picard could see that without looking at the readings.

  The mission had failed.

  Picard hoped the other captains had an idea, because he was all out.

  The other Fury ship had backed off slightly.

  “Sir,” Data said. “Lieutenant Redbay’s shuttle is moving on an arching course over the wormhole.”

  Picard turned to the screen. The shuttle was moving at a arching angle almost away from the wormhole.

  Why would he do that? He wasn’t even close to the target. “What is he doing?” Picard said softly.

  “Perhaps he’s trying something, sir,” Eckley said.

  “He is out there. He might see something we don’t.” Troi sounded tired. She knew it was all lost as well.

  Suddenly the shuttle veered sharply and gained speed at the wormhole.

  “He is trying a training pilot’s stunt called a Down and Out,” Data said. “It might work.”

  But Picard could tell almost instantly that Data had spoken too soon. The Fury ship closest to the wormhole broke away from the Klingon Bird-of-Prey and hit the shuttle with a direct shot.

  Redbay went spinning off course and past the wormhole.

  The silence on the bridge felt like a smothering blanket. Picard wanted to order the air-filtration system turned up. More than that, he wanted to be anywhere but here. Maybe back in France, sitting on top of a hill with a gentle breeze blowing over his face.

  But unless they stopped the Furies here, that might never be possible again. For him or for anyone else.

  He turned to Data. “Inform the Madison and the Idaho that they need to launch their shuttles. Make sure they have all the details.”

  “Yes, sir,” Data said, and his fingers danced over his board, sending off his messages.

  The Enterprise rocked again with the hit of another Fury blast.

  “Shields are still holding,” Lieutenant Dreod said.

  “Good,” Picard said, forcing his attention back on the main screen and the battle in front of him. Maybe, just maybe, they could hold on long enough to get one of the other starships’ shuttles through. It was possible.

  Another Fury ship appeared from the wormhole and moved immediately into the fight with the Klingons.

  “Message sent, sir,” Data said. “And Lieutenant Redbay has recovered and is moving into a position high above the wormhole.”

  “What?” Picard said. He turned and stared at the main screen showing the wormhole and the battle. Sure enough, Redbay’s shuttle was a large distance above and to the port side of the wormhole.

  “He’s holding position,” Data said.

  “Maybe he’s injured,” Eckley said.

  “I show his shields at fifty percent,” Data said, “and all other systems on the shuttle functioning normally.”

  On the screen the shuttle started to move, not at the wormhole, but more in the direction of the Idaho and the Madison.

  Picard made himself stand and stare, not believing that an officer on his ship would not continue to try to carry out his duty. But it looked as if Lieutenant Redbay was retreating, right at a time when the Federation needed him the most.

  Suddenly the shuttle seemed to stop in flight.

  The colors of the rainbow flashed, indicating the shuttle had gone into warp. But it was only a flash, and the next instant the shuttle was streaking toward the wormhole.

  And then the shuttle was gone.

  Into the mouth of the wormhole.

  “The Redbay Maneuver!” Eckley shouted in an excited voice. “He pulled off the Redbay Maneuver.”

  “The shuttle has entered the wormhole,” Data said, confirming what Picard had just seen.

  One of their shuttles had gone through.

  He glanced at Troi. She stood slowly, keeping one hand on the chair for balance. She was weak, but Redbay’s action seemed to give her strength.

  Picard let out a breath. So Redbay hadn’t been running at all. He’d just been outsmarting them all.

  Maybe this death wasn’t all for nothing.

  If the lieutenant knew what to do.

  If, if, if.

  Redbay felt as if he were sliding down a stair railing in a thick smoke cloud while everyone else was climbing slowly upward. “Weird,” he said aloud. “Really weird.”

  His sensors showed that he was passing over a hundred Fury ships stacked up in the wormhole. The Federation would have no chance if all these ships made it through. It was his job to make sure they didn’t.

  The inside of the wormhole was nothing like they described the wormhole at Deep Space Nine to be. This one swirled gray and black, with the line of Fury ships being nothing more than hulking shadows streaking past.

  Then, almost as quickly as it started, he was back in real space.

  He did a quick scan. The power source was right where Will said it would be. It seemed like a small asteroid hanging in the blackness of space, right at the mouth of the wormhole. But it was actually a huge machine, with power flowing at it from twenty different directions.

  “Impressive,” Redbay said aloud.

  A line of Fury ships seemed to stretch off into the distance, slowly making their way into the wormhole. Redbay didn’t even think about glancing at how many there were. Just one was more than a match for this shuttle. The rest didn’t matter.

  For the moment they didn’t react to his sudden appearance. But that would last for only a moment. He’d only get one shot, so he better make it
quick and right.

  He dove the shuttle right at the small asteroid-like machine, quickly finding the spot Will had said was the target.

  “Deep breath,” Redbay said aloud to the empty cabin. “This is just another test run. Make it happen.”

  He locked three torpedoes on target and fired them in quick succession at the machine.

  The closest Fury ship broke out of line and headed his way, firing as it came. The shields of the shuttle held, but they wouldn’t for long.

  Redbay took the shuttle into a steep climb away from the asteroid as the huge machine started to glow red.

  Then a tremendous explosion sent the shuttlecraft spinning like a dry leaf in a strong wind.

  “Got it,” he said, laughing. “I got it!”

  He fought to regain control of the shuttle, but without luck. The blast had completely destroyed all his controls.

  “Warning. Internal stabilizers failing,” the computer voice said.

  “Oh, just great,” Redbay said as the increasing forces pinned him into his chair.

  With a snap the shuttle’s internal stabilizers failed, smashing him against the inside wall of the shuttle and sending him into blackness.

  Between the Idaho and the Madison, a Fury ship exploded. Another Fury ship seemed to be nothing more than a dead hulk. The remaining ships turned to the wormhole, but both Klingon ships moved into their paths and began firing.

  Another ship appeared at the mouth of the wormhole.

  Picard felt his shoulders sink. Redbay’s shuttle must have been destroyed going through.

  “Sir,” Data said. “The wormhole is collapsing.”

  Picard couldn’t see it. The new Fury ship seemed about to come through.

  Then it seemed to elongate. He could almost hear the screams of the Furies inside.

  The wormhole stretched, then shrank, then winked out as if it had never been, taking the ship with it.

  The bridge broke into wild cheering.

  “Redbay found his target,” Picard said, his voice soft. He wanted to cheer with the others on the bridge, but something inside kept him silent.

  He glanced at the ruined shuttles. “Shields down, Mr. Data. Transporter room, beam Lieutenant Worf aboard.”

  “Sir,” Data said. “It is too late—”

  “Anderson, beam him directly to sickbay.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “Sir,” Data said, his voice soft, “Commander Riker is still alive.”

  Picard whirled. “Transporter, get a lock on commander Riker and get him out of there. Now.”

  A moment later Picard heard, “Done, sir. He’s here.”

  “And Lieutenant Worf?”

  “We beamed his body into sickbay, sir.”

  His body. Two officers down. One survived. It was too soon to feel anything.

  The battle wasn’t done yet.

  Picard turned and stared at the screen. “Screens back up. Open a hailing channel to the main Fury ship.”

  “Done, sir,” Lieutenant Dreod said.

  On the main monitor, the screen flickered and then the Furies’ leader appeared. Its scarlet skin was peeling. The air around it looked clean, but the back of its chair was coated in creatures.

  Dead creatures.

  Thousands and thousands of tiny bugs.

  The mucus around its mouth was white. Its eyes were yellow. Several dead crew appeared on the screen behind it.

  “We have closed your wormhole,” Picard said. “You are outnumbered and outgunned.”

  “I am aware of the situation, Picard,” the Fury said, its voice raspy as if it were in pain.

  “If you surrender, it will be as if we had never fought. We will . . .”

  “Talk, talk, talk. I suppose if I turn my ship over to you, you will want to talk about it.” The Fury raised a hand. Long ropes of scarlet flesh hung from it, and a black ichor covered the lower part of the palm. “You talk, but you do not listen, Picard.”

  “I am listening now.”

  “I told you we do not bargain. We conquer.”

  “That seems unlikely today,” Picard said.

  “That it does,” the creature said. “So if you would be so kind as to place our souls with those of our brothers from the Rath, we will go now. But there will be a tomorrow. On that you can count.”

  The creature laughed a sour laugh. “But I’m afraid I will not discuss it with you. Sweet dreams.”

  The creature smiled. The mucus dripped down its chin, and its yellow eyes had a crazed look.

  A chill ran through Picard. A chill that had nothing to do with fear rays or heightened senses. Only a race memory generations old.

  Picard would see that face in his dreams.

  He knew that, and the creature knew that.

  And neither one of them would forget it.

  Then the screen went black, replaced a moment later by the view of the Fury ship.

  It exploded.

  As Picard knew it would.

  The other two remaining Fury ships did the same almost instantly.

  “That makes no sense,” Eckley said. “They didn’t need to die.”

  “Yes, they did,” Troi said. “They were afraid.”

  Picard turned to her. She was swaying slightly as she stood. “Of what, Counselor? Us?”

  “Captain,” she said, “as victorious demons they were all-powerful. As prisoners of war, they were merely creatures from another quadrant defeated.”

  “They died for an illusion?” he said, not quite able to believe it.

  She shook her head. “They died because of the future that one mentioned,” she said. “They died because they knew someday, their people will try again.”

  Picard shuddered, glancing at the debris-filled blackness. And out there he knew were pods full of small dolls. Poppets full of the souls of those in the ships, to be placed with those from the Rath, to wait until the next time.

  “They’ll be back,” Troi said.

  He nodded. Safe far across the galaxy, they would lick their wounds, and heal. They would be back, stronger than they had been before.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  LIEUTENANT BOBBY YOUNG still clung to life. His face was yellow with strain, but his eyes were clear. He knew that he was on the Enterprise and the ship was fighting a battle with the Furies.

  Beverly Crusher believed that if the Enterprise lost the battle, Lieutenant Young would lose his mind.

  But if the Furies were defeated, Young would recover. He might never serve in Starfleet again, but he would be able to ski. She knew he loved skiing. When she had asked him to name the most important thing in his life, he had finally spoken. One word, whispered like a lover’s name.

  Skiing.

  And now it looked like he would be able to go. The wormhole was destroyed. The Fury ships had exploded, and the Federation was saved.

  At great cost.

  Commander Riker and Lieutenant Worf. She had shut off the display when she heard that.

  “Doctor,” one of her assistants cried. “We’re going to be getting wounded.”

  Beverly pulled herself out of the chair beside Lieutenant Young’s bed. “Get the beds ready, pronto. Have the standby team ready.”

  This was what she had prepared for early in the mission, and it was finally happening.

  A body made up of particles of light flickered above the main bed. It was long and broad and—

  Klingon.

  Worf!

  His eyes were open, but unseeing. His ridged forehead was covered with black stains, and burns showed through his uniform.

  He wasn’t breathing.

  But he was here.

  At least he was here.

  She bent over him. She would save him. She had to save him. She would rescue one of their team, even if Riker was gone.

  “All right, everyone,” she shouted. “Get his heart and lungs working, stat. We don’t know how long he’s been gone.”

  She glanced at the diagnostic. His heart was
n’t working. He wasn’t breathing. The smoke, according to the medical tricorder, had been a deadly mixture of chemicals from the shuttle’s engine. His lungs had collapsed.

  If she had to estimate how long he was gone, she would guess a good twenty-five minutes. And even if she could bring him back, she might not be able to spare him brain damage.

  Behind her the door whooshed open and Deanna came in. She immediately took Worf’s hand and held it. Then she looked up at Beverly, who shook her head.

  “Anything,” Deanna said. “Try anything.”

  Beverly glanced at the overhead readings. Worf’s hearts and lungs seemed to be clear now and his blood had cycled a few times, cleaning out the poisons. But there was no brain activity. The only chance he had was to be shocked back.

  She quickly prepared an extra-sized dose of Klaxtal, the strongest stimulant she knew of that would work on Klingons.

  She glanced at Deanna, who was staring down at Worf’s smudged face. “Stand back,” Beverly said. “This might cause some sharp muscle contractions.”

  Deanna stood back, but didn’t release Worf’s hand.

  Beverly injected the Klaxtal and then moved out of the way. She had seen Klingons break human doctors’ limbs while under the influence of this drug.

  But Worf didn’t move.

  Deanna glanced at her. Beverly was about to step in to try again when Worf’s powerful body jerked upward, his legs kicking, his arms flailing. Deanna let go and the two of them watched as Worf’s body twitched and bucked, then lay still.

  Very still.

  It hadn’t worked. Beverly stepped back up beside Worf. “Worf, damn you,” she said. “Come back to—”

  Suddenly the monitor over Worf blinked, and the next instant he took a huge, shuddering breath.

  “He’s back,” Deanna said, moving up beside him and touching his head.

  But the question was whether or not he was completely back.

  Beverly glanced at the reading. There was brain function, but she couldn’t tell if there was damage.

  “Worf,” she said. “Worf. You need to speak to me.”

  He still didn’t open his eyes.

  “Deanna,” she said.

  Deanna nodded, then bent over him, her hair hiding his face. “Worf,” she said. “Please—”

  His right hand went to her throat. “I will not talk!” he said.