Star Trek - TNG - Vendetta

by Peter David

  The Enterprise let fly with the antimatter

  spread, and it danced across the shielding of the Borg

  ship, adding to the beam that was being fired from the

  planet-killer. The Borg's shields flared

  up under the increased barrage and they returned

  fire on the Enterprise. But the starship had

  already made her move darting behind the Borg ship,

  and this time unleashed a full phaser barrage. The

  phaser beams cascaded off the Borg shields that

  had been hastily erected to intercept the

  attack, but ...

  "Their shield effectiveness is at forty-two

  percent and dropping rapidly," Data

  reported. "The attack by the planet-killer is

  having substantial effect on the Borg's

  ability to maintain a sufficient level of

  defensive power." Suddenly Data

  said, "Sir, the Borg are falling back."

  "They're retreating?" Picard was astonished,

  and it was amazement that was shared by everyone on the

  bridge. The Borg either destroyed things or

  ignored things. They did not run.

  But there it was. The Borg ship was dropping

  back at full impulse, still firing upon the

  planet-killer, but trying to distance itself.

  Delcara bore down on them, not letting up in

  her assault. The Borg redoubled their efforts and

  this time the planet-killer visibly shuddered under

  their attack. A chunk of the neutronium hull,

  a substance that was so dense that a phaser against it had

  the same effect as a lit match, was actually

  blasted away. It hurtled off into space, but the

  Borg ship did not have the extra energy available

  to grab it with a tractor beam.

  The Many screamed within Delcara's head. They

  started to lose their focus.

  "No!" Delcara warned them. "This is the

  way. This is the will. This is what must and will be

  done. Their shields are nothing against us, my children.

  We will destroy them. Now. Now!"

  "Now!" said Picard. "Phaser and

  antimatter barrage, fire!"

  The Enterprise cut loose on the Borg from

  behind just as the planet-killer fired on the other

  side. The Borg shields sagged under the increased

  assault, and they fired upon the Enterprise in the

  hopes of dispatching the flea so that they could

  concentrate on the wasp.

  But the flea refused to be scratched. The

  starship's shields held, since the Borg were not

  at full strength. And then the Borg's shields

  were shields blown into oblivion by the doomsday

  device's beam, which then smashed straight into the

  core of the vessel.

  The Enterprise came within a hair's breadth

  of being wiped out, for almost as fast as Delcara's

  beam went in through one side of the Borg ship, it

  came out the other, transfixing the cube vessel.

  And the Enterprise was on the other side,

  directly opposite Delcara. It was only a

  blindingly fast evasive maneuver executed

  by Data that prevented the starship from being reduced

  to scrap.

  The Enterprise dropped back, and the crew

  watched in shock as cracks ribboned

  across the surface of the Borg ship. The cube

  shook, as if in anger or repressed frustration,

  and an additional surge of power leaped from

  Delcara's ship.

  The Borg blew apart, a dazzling burst of

  light and color. Fragments of the mighty ship

  hurled every which way, bouncing harmlessly off the

  Enterprise shields or hurtling away

  into space.

  The bridge crew looked in astonishment at the

  sight before them. It had happened so quickly, so

  easily. Forty ships of the Federation and assorted

  planetary defenses all had proven helpless

  against a Borg ship. Yet now the Borg had

  been blown from space in a few scant seconds

  of battle.

  A massive cloud of dust and debris hung

  before them, and then something emerged from the cloud. It was

  the planet-killer, piloted by Delcara, sailing

  through it serenely, like a ghost. Random pieces of the

  Borg ship ricocheted off the enormous

  vessel, which didn't even appear to notice.

  Delcara sailed past the Enterprise with no

  attempt at communication, and simply resumed

  her course--a course that would take her,

  eventually and inevitably, into the heart of Borg

  space.

  "Remarkable," said Picard.

  Worf was studying the sensors and said, "There is

  an eight-percent drop in the energy readings of the

  planet-killer. Also, there is some e xternal

  damage."

  "Damage to a neutronium hull," Riker

  said, pulling at his beard. "That either says a

  hell of a lot for the Borg to be able to damage

  her--"

  "Or a good deal for her ability to withstand the

  sort of punishment required to damage a

  neutronium hull," replied Picard. He

  hoped that he was able to keep the amazement from his

  voice. The last thing he wanted his crew to think

  was that he was daunted, even intimidated, by the

  level of power that they had witnessed.

  "The planet-killer has resumed course and

  heading, and is proceeding at warp six."

  Picard cast a glance at Riker. "The

  previous planet-killer appeared to have a

  maximum of warp four." Riker simply nodded.

  Picard turned back to Data and said,

  "Follow her, Mr. Data."

  "Overtake or intercept, sir?"

  "Just follow," Picard said. "But put enough

  distance between us so that we can avoid the subspace

  interference and get a message out to Starfleet."

  "Yes, sir."

  Picard stared pensively at the screen, his

  mind racing, trying to determine the best course of

  action. "Mr. Data," he said after a moment,

  "extrapolating from current course, what will be the

  next star system the planet-killer encounters?

  Still the Tholians?"

  Data paused only a moment to check. "Yes

  sir. It will enter Tholian space in less than

  three days."

  "Send a message," said Picard. "Alert

  the Tholians that they're about to have an extremely

  uninvited visitor."

  "Captain, receiving an incoming message."

  "Delcara?"

  "No, sir," said Worf, looking up.

  "It's the Chekov. Captain Korsmo."

  "On screen."

  A moment later Morgan Korsmo appeared

  on the viewscreen. "Picard," he said with no

  preamble, "there's a Borg ship heading your

  way."

  "There was," said Picard. "It was rather handily

  disposed of by the planet-killer."

  His eyes widened. "You found it! Word was received

  from the Repulse that it was heading into this sector.

  Have you established contact with it?"

  "Yes, we have. It is piloted by a woman

  named Delcara who has taken it upon herself to rid

  the galaxy of the Borg."

  "I applaud her goals, if not herr />
  methods," Korsmo said drily. "Have you told

  her the Federation security concerns regarding the power

  of the weaponry at her disposal?"

  "She is concerned only about her

  objectives," Picard replied. "I don't

  think she gives a damn about whether we approve

  of her cavorting about the galaxy or not. She's

  going to do what she wants, where she wants, and she

  has the power to back up that philosophy."

  Korsmo's face darkened. "That is

  unacceptable. We have to do something."

  "I tend to agree," said Picard. "Now we

  have to determine what that might be."

  "WE have to show her who's boss!"

  declared Korsmo.

  Picard and Riker looked at each other, and

  then Picard looked back at Korsmo. "The

  woman has destroyed two Borg vessels,

  Captain Korsmo, one of them with only a

  slight bit of help from us. She's piloting a

  semi-sentient ship that could swallow the entire

  currently active fleet, and have room left

  over for dessert. She has a devastating force

  beam, a hull our phasers couldn't possibly

  penetrate, and a thirst for vengeance that has

  crossed light-years and centuries. I think she

  knows who's boss, Korsmo."

  Korsmo looked stunned. "Picard, you

  actually sound intimidated."

  "Knowing your opponent's strengths and your own

  shortcomings isn't being intimidated, Captain.

  It's called knowing where you stand."

  "Where I assume you stand, Picard," said

  Korsmo stiffly, "is solidly behind the wishes

  of Starfleet. Now obviously, Picard, I

  can't issue orders to you. But at present course

  and speed, we will be able to rendezvous in

  twenty-eight hours. I want to set up a

  summit meeting with this planet-killer, and I'll

  do it with or without your help. And if they refuse

  to communicate, I'm going to attack."

  "That," said Picard, "would be inadvisable."

  "It would be suicide," put in Riker.

  "You seem to have forgotten that it is the decision

  of the Federation and Starfleet that the planet-killer

  cannot be permitted to simply gallivant around the

  galaxy doing whatever the hell it wishes,"

  Korsmo said tightly. "Not when innocents will be

  killed. Whether you support that decision or not

  is completely immaterial. It must be reasoned

  with or stopped or destroyed. To put it

  succinctly, we are to stop that thing any way we

  can. There are no other options. And to be blunt,

  Picard ... I thought you had more guts than to let

  yourself get spooked by some woman with a big ship.

  Korsmo out."

  His image vanished from the screen and was

  replaced by the distant image of the

  planet-killer, sailing straight towards the

  space of the notoriously territorial

  Tholians.

  "Perfect," said Picard. "Just ...

  perfect."

  Chapter Sixteen

  "Permission to speak freely, sir?"

  Korsmo looked up at Shelby with only

  vague interest. He put aside the material

  he was reading, sat up straighter behind his desk

  (something he always felt compelled to do in Shelby's

  presence, as if she reminded him of some stern

  schoolteacher) and said, "Granted."

  "Some hours ago you were in communication with the

  Enterprise," Shelby said stiffly. She

  stood with her feet slightly apart, her hands

  behind her back. "It seemed to me that you were

  unnecessarily short-tempered with Captain

  Picard."

  "Are we going to go through this again, Commander?"

  demanded Korsmo. There was something in his voice that

  indicated that, even though permission to speak

  freely had been granted, he was not going

  to tolerate hearing anything he didn't like. "I

  respect Jean-Luc Picard. I have told you

  as much. What do you want me to do, write it in

  blood?"

  "If Captain Picard says that attacking the

  planet-killer would be inadvisable, I would wager

  that it's inadvisable," she said, her voice flat.

  Slowly, like a snake uncoiling from a

  basket, Korsmo stood behind his desk. "And if

  I order an attack," he said, "are you going

  to support my authority on that bridge out there?

  Or are you going to undercut me?"

  Her jaw muscles moved for a moment. "You are

  my commanding officer, sir. Not Captain Picard.

  I would never act insubordinately with a commanding

  officer," and she paused before she added, "no

  matter what the provocation."

  He nodded, but there was no trace of

  pleasantness in his face. "It would do well for

  both of us to remember that," he said. "Dismissed."

  "Sir, I--"

  "I said," he repeated, his voice hard as

  nails, "dis-missed."

  She took a deep breath, stalling for a moment

  to come up with something more to say, some other way of

  prolonging the discussion so that she could get across the

  points she wanted to make. But nothing came

  to mind, and Korsmo was already ignoring

  her, staring back intently at whatever was on his

  computer screen.

  She managed to crane her neck just slightly,

  and saw that Korsmo was studying the service

  record of one Jean-Luc Picard. And, very

  slightly, he was shaking his head in disbelief.

  Shelby backed slowly out of the ready room and

  stepped out onto the bridge of the Chekov. The

  doors hissed shut behind her and she stood there for a

  moment, composing her thoughts, mulling over the

  significance of what she had just seen.

  "Damn," she said softly.

  In the engine room of the Enterprise, La

  Forge turned in surprise when he heard the

  crisp voice of Picard say, "Mr. La

  Forge, a moment of your time, please."

  "Yes sir, Captain," said Geordi. He

  walked into his office, stepping aside to allow the

  captain to precede him inside. He then stood and

  waited for Picard to address him.

  "The Borg woman," he said. "What is your

  progress with her?"

  Geordi shrugged slightly. "Not much," he

  admitted. "I don't know if I'm getting through

  to her at all. Although, she did show some interest in

  my VISOR. And she was happy," he added

  distastefully, "when the prosthetic arm was

  attached."

  "Of course she would be happy," said Picard.

  "It's a mechanical attachment. Anything with a

  mechanical basis might get a reaction out of

  her." He paused. "Doctor Crusher is not

  having a great deal of success with the re-education

  program. I'd like you to endeavor to reach her once

  again. Spend some more time with her. Your VISOR

  clearly makes it easier for her to identify with

  you. For similar reasons, Mr. Data will

  assist you whenever possible."

  "Because we're the two crew members who are more

  remini
scent of the Borg?" Geordi asked, not

  especially sure if he liked the comparison.

  Neither did Picard. "I did not intend

  to imply that, Lieutenant."

  "I know, sir, I'm sorry," sighed

  Geordi. He pinged a finger off the edge of his

  VISOR. "You'd think, after all this time, I'd

  be used to it by now. May I ask why the sudden

  intense interest in Reannon?"

  Picard leaned forward. "If we can

  establish communications with her, get at some of the knowledge

  buried in her head, we can learn more about the

  Borg. I remember much of my time with them, but

  she spent even longer with them and may have learned a

  great deal more. Also, she might be of some value in

  trying to establish better relations with the pilot of the

  planet-killer."

  "Value? How?"

  "I want to show her the face of the enemy," said

  Picard. "Delcara views the Borg as this

  inhuman, soulless thing. If we can salvage a

  Borg soldier, make Delcara think of them as

  individuals, trapped as part of some massive

  central mind over which they have no control--it might

  have some impact on her. If we can give her

  food for thought, maybe we can encourage her then

  to sit down for an entire meal."

  "It's a long shot, sir."

  "It's better than no shot, Lieutenant.

  Now, if you'll excuse me," he said, standing and

  heading for the door, "I have a summit to arrange."

  The planet-killer hurtled forward on its

  course at warp six, and deep within, Delcara

  heard the impatient song of the Many.

  We do not wish to meet with them, they cried

  out. They are a distraction. There is no need for

  distractions, or for talking. If we are to talk

  with them, it would mean slowing or stopping our

  progress. We have waited so long. ...

  "That being the case," said Delcara patiently,

  as if addressing a child, "it will not hurt anyone

  to wait a little longer."

  You want to do this because of the Picard. You do not

  wish to disappoint him.

  "He has asked me to do this," said Delcara,

  "and out of respect to him, I wish to do it."

  We hate him.

  "You owe him," and for the first time that she could

  recall, her voice and thoughts raised in anger,

  "you owe him your existence. It was he who gave me

  the way and whose great thoughts led me to you. It was the

  power of his personality, and the strength of his destiny,

  that called me to him. The waves of fate ebb and