Star Trek: TNG: Enterprises of Great Pitch and Moment

by Keith R. A. DeCandido

“I have given you the terms, Picard. I am aware that you are not empowered to make this decision alone. Consult with your superiors. Return to these coordinates in one day. I will contact you again and request your answer. Should that answer be yes, I will provide the exact location of the planet.”

  With that, K’Tal broke off communications.

  Dax turned around and shook her head. “And brusque. Did I forget to mention he was brusque?”

  “I have found, Commander,” Picard said, “that such is a given with Klingon warriors.” Glancing at Worf, he added, “Present company included.”

  “Thank you, Captain,” Worf deadpanned, which prompted a chuckle from several people on the bridge.

  Sisko turned to look at Picard. “What do you think?”

  Thoughtfully rubbing his chin, Picard said, “Having the meeting in the Badlands works to our advantage, actually—the plasma storms neutralize Klingon cloaking devices.”

  “They also can neutralize a shuttlecraft,” Sisko said gravely.

  “True.” Picard sighed. “We have no proof that Gowron will come alone with but a single bodyguard. Indeed, that would be quite out of character.”

  Sisko nodded. “Well, this isn’t our mission. Chief, put a call through to Earth.”

  O’Brien winced. “Er, we can’t, sir.”

  “Why not?”

  “The Zife administration has established new security protocols for contacting Earth. We can do it from the station, but the Defiant comm systems haven’t taken to the changes.” He glanced at Picard. “That was one of the things I wanted Mr. Porter’s help with, sir.”

  Picard looked at Sisko. “K’Tal did give us an entire day.”

  Sisko folded his hands together, his index fingers steepled and pressed against his chin. “All right. Dax, set course for the station. Then we’ll have a talk with Mr. Azernal.”

  CHAPTER

  4

  Federation Starbase Deep Space 9

  Bajoran system

  Sisko stared impatiently at the face of Koll Azernal on the oval-shaped viewer in ops. Part of the impatience was borne of the fact that it had taken O’Brien twenty minutes to set the comm line up, and another fifteen for Azernal to be available. But mostly it was impatience with the man himself.

  “Captains, why are you even wasting my time with this? This is exactly what we were hoping for.”

  Picard’s face showed an incredulity that Sisko shared. “Mr. Azernal, meeting Gowron alone on a planet in the Badlands is hardly what a reasonable person can ‘hope for’ when trying to negotiate an alliance.”

  “Gowron’s position is tenuous. He has to be careful. Besides, the Badlands are a secure location.”

  “And a dangerous one,” Sisko said. “Dozens of ships have gone missing and presumed destroyed in the Badlands—including the U.S.S. Voyager, which was specifically designed to navigate the plasma storms.”

  “Yes, but Gowron’s taking the same risk as you.”

  “If this is not a trick,” Worf said.

  “It isn’t.” Azernal looked away for a moment and said, “One moment, please.” Then he looked back.

  “You don’t have all the facts, gentlemen. We’ve received a few feelers from the High Council about possibly renewing the alliance—those feelers have come from K’Tal.”

  Sisko blinked. “You might have mentioned that.”

  “They were just feelers, nothing concrete. This, however, is concrete. Either way, we know K’Tal can be trusted.”

  “With respect, sir,” Worf said tightly, “I disagree. Yes, Councillor K’Tal is an honorable man, but we do not know that the communication came from K’Tal. While the message originated from the Great Hall, it did not contain any identifiers that would verify that it came from the House of K’Tal or from the High Council.”

  “That could’ve been for security reasons,” Azernal said.

  “Or,” Picard said, “it could have been someone wishing us to believe it was K’Tal in order to get Captain Sisko and myself into the Badlands alone.”

  “You think very highly of yourself, do you, Captain?”

  Sisko bristled at the insult, for all that it wasn’t directed at him.

  To his credit, Picard didn’t flinch. “Not at all, sir, but the very connections to the chancellor that make us the best candidates to talk to him also make us potential targets for those in the empire who wish our nations to remain at odds.”

  “Gowron himself told us on Ty’Gokor that there were those in the empire who felt that way,” Sisko added.

  “Maybe, but the president wants this meeting—therefore you will take it. Is that understood? I expect you to take the Defiant to the border and agree to K’Tal’s terms, and then take one of the ship’s shuttles to the Badlands.”

  Kira suddenly stepped forward. “Excuse me, but we should make at least one change.”

  Azernal frowned. “You’re the liaison officer with Bajor, yes? Major Kira?”

  If Kira was flattered to be recognized, she typically didn’t show it. “Yes. I know the Badlands, and I know the Defiant shuttles. They’ll get ripped apart. We should at least let the captains go in a runabout. They’ve got stronger shields and are more maneuverable.”

  “I’d run it by K’Tal before committing, but that’s a sound idea, Major. Have one of your runabouts ready to go. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m late for a meeting with the security council. The next time I hear from you people, I expect it to be to inform me of a renewed alliance.”

  This communication was cut off as abruptly as K’Tal’s had been.

  Kira shook her head. “And I thought the chamber of ministers was full of blowhards.”

  Picard let out a breath. “I have found, Major, that it is endemic to the breed. And thank you for the suggestion of taking a runabout.”

  She looked at Sisko. “Just doing what I can to protect the Emissary.”

  Sisko chuckled. “And the Emissary appreciates it. Is the Rio Grande ready to go, Mr. O’Brien?”

  “I’m afraid not, sir. She’s still out on that mineral survey.”

  Sisko turned to Dax. “You told me they’d be back this morning.”

  Dax winced. “They were supposed to be, but—”

  Holding up a hand, Sisko said, “Never mind. What about the Zambesi?”

  O’Brien said, “She’s ready to go on Pad C, sir.”

  Looking at Picard and indicating the turbolift, Sisko said, “Shall we?”

  “Indeed.”

  As they approached the turbolift, Sisko said, “Mr. Worf, take the Defiant back to the border, let K’Tal know we’re on our way to the Badlands. As soon as you have the coordinates, send them along.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  Stepping in next to Picard and turning around, Sisko said, “Major, keep the home fires burning. We’ll be back before you know it.”

  “I hope so, Captain. Good luck—to both of you.”

  “Runabout Pad C,” Sisko said, and the lift started downward.

  CHAPTER

  5

  Runabout Zambesi

  On the periphery of the Badlands

  The trip to the Badlands went into the sleep cycles of both captains. Thanks to DS9 keeping Bajoran time, with their twenty-six-hour day, those cycles were several hours off from each other, so both captains were able to get a full eight hours of sleep.

  It also spared Sisko the need to hold a conversation with Jean-Luc Picard. It was fine as long as they were discussing duty-related things, but being in a runabout with him for so long? Sisko had no idea what to even say to the man. Leaving aside his reputation in Starfleet, there was always Locutus between them. Every time he looked at Picard’s face, he saw Jennifer’s killer.

  Once both men had slept their fill, however, there was no way to avoid it. Picard ordered some Earl Grey tea from the replicator. Sisko had already procured a raktajino.

  As he took the copilot’s seat, Picard said, “I take it there’s no word?”

  Shaking his
head, Sisko said, “Not yet. Worf contacted us half an hour ago with nothing to report. Oh, and your Mr. Data also called in with a similar report.”

  Picard smiled. “Both Data and Worf are quite the sticklers for regulations.”

  “So I’ve noticed.” Sisko hesitated, then said; “He and O’Brien have both been invaluable to the station.”

  “I’m not surprised. I’d always considered both of them to be among my most reliable personnel.”

  Sisko found he had nothing to add to that and sipped from his raktajino cup.

  After several seconds, Picard said, “I was hoping to get the chance to see the aqueduct before we leave.”

  Frowning, Sisko said, “I’m sorry?”

  “Shortly after you took over, the Enterprise-D came to the station to help install an aqueduct.”

  “Right.” Sisko had, in fact, completely forgotten that the Enterprise had been involved in that project and wondered what that said about his lingering feelings about Picard. Probably the same thing that not wanting to talk to him says. “It’s working quite well, actually. The farms in Lotha Province are almost back at the levels they were before the Cardassians created that mine.”

  “Grand.”

  Another pause.

  “You’ve done fine work here, Captain. I’m pleased that you stuck with the assignment.”

  “So am I,” Sisko said, and this he could say with conviction.

  “I was, however, surprised to learn that you’ve become a figure in the Bajorans’ religion.”

  Now Sisko tensed. “I’m simply the person who discovered the Celestial Temple, Captain. And I’ve already had the ‘cultural contamination’ lecture from Starfleet Command.”

  “I’ve no intention of lecturing you,” Picard said snappishly. “However, I do have a certain amount of experience in these matters.”

  That caught Sisko off guard. “What do you mean?”

  Picard hesitated. “Several years ago, on Mintaka III, I was worshipped as a god. Apparently I had fulfilled a prophecy of theirs. It was purely circumstance, but the Mintakans mistook our technology for divinity. It took a great deal of effort to convince them that I was not their god.” He took a sip of his tea. “This is not to say you should do likewise. I simply wish to say that I’m aware of the burden you carry.”

  “It’s no burden,” Sisko said, and he surprised himself with the words. “I admit, I wasn’t very comfortable with the way so many Bajorans treated me at first. But the Bajorans…” He smiled. “They have a way of getting to you.”

  Picard nodded. “They do, rather, don’t they?”

  “You told me when I took this assignment that Bajor meant a great deal to you. I’d say after four years, they mean at least as much to me. If that means they call me ‘Emissary’ and hang on my every word, I’m not about to dissuade them. Being Emissary is a responsibility, and it’s one I take as seriously as my responsibilities as a Starfleet officer.” He sipped his Klingon coffee. “Respectfully, it isn’t the same thing as what you went through, Captain. The Bajorans don’t worship me, and my being Emissary isn’t due to an accidental concatenation of circumstance. I did find the Celestial Temple. I am the Emissary.”

  Before Picard could respond to that, the comm line beeped and Worf’s voice sounded over the speakers. “Defiant to Zambesi.”

  Sisko reached for the comm line like a dying man leaping at a life preserver. “Zambesi here. Go ahead, Mr. Worf.”

  “K’Tal sent an automated message with the coordinates for the planet. We’re forwarding it now.”

  Looking down at the status board, Sisko saw that a file was coming in on the same subspace frequency as the message. “Receiving coordinates now.”

  “Captain—I do not like this. Request permission to set course for the Badlands—the Defiant should be there as a reinforcement, should—”

  “No,” Sisko said before Worf could finish. “It’s too risky. Report back to the station, Commander.”

  “Aye, sir. Defiant out.”

  Picard gave a half smile. “That was Worf’s I’m-only-following-this-order-because-I-respect-the-chain-of-command voice.”

  Sisko couldn’t help but bark a laugh at that as he input the coordinates the Klingon had sent into the conn. “He uses that voice a lot.”

  “He always has. Right after we took the Enterprise-D out, we had to separate the saucer. I gave Worf command of the saucer section while I proceeded to the battle bridge. He didn’t take it well.”

  “I can imagine. Course set for B’Leva.” Sisko engaged the impulse engines. “Worf’s like a kid in a candy store with the Defiant.”

  “Not surprising.” Picard’s half smile became a full one. “Right after that, Worf almost blasted a hole in the main viewer when Q’s face appeared in it.”

  “I’ve met Q, I don’t blame him.”

  “Yes, I heard about that. I must apologize.”

  That confused Sisko. “Why?”

  “Q—” Picard hesitated. “I always felt he was my responsibility. That if it weren’t for me, he wouldn’t be making so much trouble for Starfleet.”

  “He hasn’t been around since that first time.” Sisko smiled. “Probably because I decked him.”

  Sisko wished he had an imager to capture the expression on Picard’s face. “I beg your pardon?” the other captain said incredulously.

  “I decked him,” Sisko repeated proudly. “Didn’t help matters any—but it felt good.”

  “I shall have to remember that.”

  Sisko tried to imagine Picard decking Q as he had. The image wouldn’t take. Instead he said, “Q is hardly your responsibility, Captain.”

  “Perhaps not.”

  Picard didn’t sound very convinced.

  Within the hour, they were at the planet in question. Accessing the library computer, Sisko said, “B’Leva was used as a ship repair station by the Bajoran resistance during the Cardassian occupation. It’s unused now.”

  Nodding, Picard said, “I was afraid we would be sent to a Maquis stronghold.”

  “If it is, we haven’t heard about it. And I’d think Gowron would want to avoid the Maquis as well. The Klingons are probably better informed about the Maquis than we are, given that they’ve been supplying them.”

  Picard nodded. “My first officer’s away mission is to track down a possible handoff between the Klingons and the Maquis.”

  Sisko whirled on his fellow captain. Remembering the theft of the Defiant two years earlier, he said, “Are you sure that was a good idea?”

  Sounding somewhat defensive, Picard said, “Absolutely. I understand that your experiences with Thomas Riker were not pleasant, but, genetics notwithstanding, my first officer is a different person.”

  “I hope so.” He looked away. “The Maquis have proved to be very…seductive.” He thought about his old friend Cal Hudson, phasering his Starfleet uniform into oblivion.

  “I’m quite aware, believe me,” Picard said in a quiet voice. Sisko supposed that he, too, had lost comrades to the Maquis.

  The sensor alarm beeped, again saving Sisko. “Klingon vessel approaching. Registers as a Defense Force shuttlepod.” Sisko noted that, just as K’Tal’s communication contained no ID tag that specified that it was from the High Council, this vessel contained nothing to indicate that it belonged to the chancellor. Normally, a person of Gowron’s importance would travel with more pomp and circumstance—or at least what passed for such among Klingons.

  If this mission was truly attempting to be covert, as Azernal seemed to believe, then that made sense. But as Worf had pointed out, that could also mean that this entire thing was a trap.

  Sisko found himself second-guessing his refusal to let Worf bring the Defiant to the Badlands. But if this was genuine, the sight of the Defiant would likely send Gowron back to the empire. Sisko had dealt with Gowron long enough to know that he was prickly at the best of times.

  “They’re hailing us,” Picard said, and Sisko saw that a signal was coming
in, though it was a bit weak. No doubt the plasma storms were interfering with communications.

  Opening a channel, Sisko said, “This is the U.S.S. Zambesi.”

  The screen to Sisko’s right lit up with the wide-eyed face of Chancellor Gowron, though there was interference around the edge of the signal. “Sisko. Picard. We meet again.”

  Before Sisko could speak, Picard said, “Thank you for agreeing to see us, Chancellor.”

  “I was not sure you would agree to my terms. That you did bespeaks the urgency of your mission.”

  “I told you when your fleet attacked my station, Gowron,” Sisko said. “Our remaining enemies play right into the Founders’ hands.”

  “So you have insisted. We will land on B’Leva and talk further.”

  Two different sensor alarms went off simultaneously. Sisko saw that a plasma storm was heading right for their position.

  He said, “Plasma storm approaching,” just as Picard said, “Gowron, why are you arming weapons?”

  The world exploded a moment later…

  CHAPTER

  6

  B’Leva

  The Badlands

  “I am Locutus of Borg.”

  The Borg are relentless. They take everything away, systematically, meticulously, relentlessly.

  “Resistance is futile.”

  Phaser fire does no good.

  Torpedoes do no good.

  Starfleet throws everything it has, and it does no good.

  “Your life as it has been is over.”

  You’re helpless before their onslaught, impotent to stop them from destroying what you hold most dear.

  “From this time forward you will service us.”

  Jean-Luc Picard woke up screaming.

  A deep, reassuring voice said, “It’s all right.”

  The smell of burning conduits and plasma fire assaulted Picard’s nostrils. A shiver passed through his body. Looking around, he saw that he was strapped into the Zambesi’s copilot seat—but that seat was halfway back, near the transporter station, which was itself a pile of smoking rubble. Looking over at the forward window, he saw only white. After a moment, he realized that it was snow. His sensor sweep of B’Leva had revealed that the northern hemisphere was in the grip of a particuarly brutal winter season, and apparently that was where they had landed.