“I wish I could say we’re going to be as busy as your team. We’ve modified the da Vinci ’s tractor beam to work in conjunction with a molecular stabilizing beam emitted from our navigational deflector. The specs come from Starfleet, and all of our computer models match what we were told to expect from them. Captain Scott worked on the calculations himself, and he hasn’t let us down before. We’re good to go, Commander.”
Gomez smiled just enough for him to take it personally, then turned to the ship’s cultural liaison. “Carol, what’s your take on the Tholians at this point?”
Carol Abramowitz shrugged her shoulders just a bit as she drew in a breath. “This is my first time dealing with a Tholian who wasn’t a training hologram. My contact on the Tholian ship is curt bordering on rude, guarded with information beyond any specific requests, and quite snippy when I don’t report regularly and precisely according to his timetable.” She shrugged. “In other words, business as usual.”
Gomez stifled a snicker. “We all appreciate your extreme patience here, Carol. Your role in keeping the Tholians calm and informed on our actions is as important as anything any of us will be doing. I might sug—”
A tone from the comm system silenced Gomez and Lieutenant Commander Domenica Corsi’s voice followed it from the speakers.
“Captain Gold? This is ahead of schedule, but we’re in visual range of the rendezvous point.”
Gold answered, “We’re on our way.” Duffy turned to catch the captain’s eyes widening and a hint of a grin creeping across his mouth.
Duffy was one of the first to step onto the bridge, only to stop in his tracks and fixate on the da Vinci ’s main viewer. A pair of hands on his shoulders guided him to one side and without looking he could tell the touch was Sonya’s. At any other time he might have reacted or commented on her touch, but his attention was riveted to the viewscreen and the captivating image cast upon it.
The area of torn space itself was unremarkable, unless one stopped to notice that no stars shone there. What seized Duffy was the shimmering lines and apparition-like form of the starship drifting within the rift, hanging askew in relation to the da Vinci, with the top of its primary hull flat enough to clearly read the dead ship’s name and registry number: U.S.S. Defiant , NCC-1764.
The low number bespoke the antiquated status the vessel held, Duffy knew. Here was a vision straight out of history, a physical manifestation of the challenges and adventures that had more than likely inspired every member of the da Vinci ’s crew to enter Starfleet and see what mysteries the universe held for themselves.
The electric-blue glow infusing the century-old starship bathed the da Vinci ’s bridge and the dozen or so people gathered there. As they watched, the Defiant continued to fade and solidify, winking in and out of existence.
As far as this universe is concerned , thought Duffy, the Defiant is both real and unreal .
“Sensor scans are inconclusive,” Corsi said as she vacated the command chair, “but readings indicate she hasn’t been there too long. We can’t confirm any power sources or atmosphere.” She directed a wry smile toward Gomez. “I’d watch my step if I were you, Commander.”
“Away team, to the transporter room,” Gold said. “It’s time to go to work. Mr. Duffy, you have the conn. Take care of my ship.”
The order from Captain Gold raised a chill on Duffy’s skin, but one fueled by responsibility, not alarm. His attention turned to Gomez as she and the others moved toward the turbolift. His eyes found hers as she smiled just a bit and held his gaze.
Just for her, Duffy puffed out his chest and winked.
As the doors closed, Duffy blew out a long breath. For better or worse, the bridge was his.
CHAPTER
4
As the transporter beam released her, Sonya Gomez experienced a momentary feeling of weightlessness before the magnetic locks of her boots pulled her back to the deck. “No gravity,” she said, confirming her suspicions that many of the Defiant ’s systems would be off-line or without power. That was to be expected, of course. Not even considering that the ship had been out here for over a century, log reports from the Enterprise had described the draining effects of the rift on their own power systems. It made sense that after so many years, the unprotected Defiant would have ultimately succumbed to the influence of spatial interphase.
The only illumination in the engineering section was that provided by the helmets of the five away-team members’ environment suits. As powerful as they were, the lamps didn’t do enough to drive away the enveloping darkness of the large chamber for Gomez’s taste. Dust and dirt floated all around them, free from the restraint of gravity. It gave the room a murky feel that Gomez likened to disturbed silt on an ocean floor.
“What was that?” Gold called out, detecting movement from the corner of his eye and jerking around in response. As his helmet lamp shone on the source of the movement, he felt bile rise in his throat.
Drifting unencumbered in the open space of the cavernous chamber was a skeleton, what Gold presumed to be the remains of a Defiant engineer. It still wore the black pants and red shirt common to engineering and security personnel on Federation starships in the 2260’s, though the boots that completed the uniform had fallen away from the skeleton’s feet. No doubt they were still floating elsewhere about the room.
“Oh my God,” the captain whispered.
“Captain, there’s something else,” Lense added, her tricorder beeping in her hand. “The majority of what we see floating around us isn’t dirt or dust. It’s what’s left of the decomposed bodies of the people who died in this compartment. I’m picking up similar readings throughout the ship.”
Gomez shuddered at the thought of maneuvering through the interior of this dead ship, the remains of its crew floating all about her, stepping through it and having it settle on her suit as she walked. She had prepared herself to deal with looking at the bodies of dead crewmen during the mission, even decomposed ones. This unanticipated twist, however, made an already tense and depressing situation even more morose.
Perhaps sensing the pall that had been cast over the room by their discovery, Gold said, “If we weren’t sure why we came here, then we should be now.” He indicated the drifting skeleton. “If nothing else, our job is to make sure that these men and women finally get to go home.”
“Only trace amounts of oxygen in the atmosphere,” Gomez said as she consulted her tricorder. “We won’t be able to work without our suits if we can’t restore life support.”
Gold nodded. “The ship’s been out here a long time, so there’s no telling what long-term effects the rift had on her. Plus, we don’t know what she’s been exposed to on the other side of the rift.”
“Perhaps the ship’s computer . . . recorded data received by automatic sensors before power . . . was lost,” Soloman said. Formerly known as 110, the Bynar had changed his name after finally coming to terms with the tragic loss of his mate, 111, during an earlier mission.
110 had wrestled with the question of whether or not to return to his home planet and seek out another mate, but had finally decided against it. No other would ever be able to replace the one with whom he had shared so much. So rather than do something that would, in his eyes at least, diminish the memory of his life’s love, 110 elected to remain with the da Vinci . But a Bynar without a mate was not a normal occurrence and by remaining unbonded, the use of his designation would not have been proper. 110 therefore decided that a new mode of address was needed. Captain Gold had inadvertently provided that by referring to the Bynar’s unique status as a “solo man.”
“We’ll have time to examine the computer records later,” Gomez said. “But first we have to get some power back into this old girl.” She activated her suit’s communicator. “Gomez to da Vinci .”
“Da Vinci. Duffy here.”
“Kieran, everything’s clear here. Send over our equipment.”
“Aye, aye, Commander. Stand by.”
A
few seconds passed before transporter energy flared into existence and a group of cargo containers materialized. Equipped with magnetic locks, each crate remained on the deck instead of floating freely. In addition to the collection of tools and instruments she had insisted on for the mission, Gomez’s expression brightened at the sight of the five portable generators.
“How did you manage the fifth one?” she asked Duffy. She could almost hear the smile coming over the comm circuit as he replied.
“Hey, an engineer isn’t supposed to reveal all of his secrets. At least, that’s what Captain Scott always says.”
When Duffy had asked about her equipment needs for the away team, Gomez had decided that four of the generators would probably be sufficient for their plans, but five would be better. It had been necessary to outfit each of the devices with special shielding to protect them from the detrimental effects of the rift, a time-consuming procedure. That Duffy had expended the extra effort to prepare a fifth generator, especially with the limited amount of time he’d had to complete his original tasks, pleased Gomez to no end. She was thankful to have the added cushion, just in case.
“Well, thanks just the same. Dinner’s on me when we get back. Gomez out.”
As she severed the connection, Gomez noticed P8 Blue studying her tricorder, a frown creasing her face.
“Pattie, is something wrong?”
Looking up, the Nasat replied, “I have detected an anomalous reading. It appears to be a shielded power source. The indication is very faint, but it is there.”
“Where is it?” Gomez asked.
“Deck 20, portside cargo hold.”
Frowning, Gold said, “Odd place for a power reading on an otherwise dead ship. Why didn’t we detect it from the da Vinci ?”
Gomez turned so that her helmet lamps cast illumination past the heavy mesh grating separating the main engineering deck from the ship’s massive impulse engines. She found it an odd sensation to stand in the heart of a starship and not hear the comforting hum and feel the pulse of the vessel’s engines. The silence only seemed to strengthen the aura of death surrounding her.
“The rift might be acting as a kind of dampening field,” she said. “The Enterprise logs detail how they were unable to get worthwhile sensor readings, also.” She turned to Pattie. “You didn’t find other power sources anywhere on the ship?”
The Nasat shook her head. “I am sorry, no. The warp core is completely inert and will require a cold restart to bring it back on line.”
“No, thank you,” Gomez countered. “After a hundred years, I’m not doing anything with those engines until they’ve been thoroughly checked out, preferably by a starbase dry-dock crew. Our first order of business is restoring partial power, enough to maneuver us out of the rift. We’ll also try to get enough power to the main computer and access the databanks containing log entries.”
“The best place to accomplish that is the science officer’s library computer station on the main bridge,” Gold said. “I can have Mr. Duffy transmit the Defiant ’s prefix code from the Starfleet tactical database and give me direct access to the whole shmeer.”
Gomez wasn’t sure who had come up with the idea behind the prefix code, which allowed a ship commander to assume remote control of another starship by establishing a link between the vessels’ computers. It had proven to be a tactical advantage on certain isolated occasions, she knew, but she was convinced it provided a much greater use for engineers, especially those sent into an abandoned or derelict ship such as the Defiant had unfortunately become. Once the code gave Captain Gold access to the ship’s main computer, he would be able to retrieve anything contained within its vast memory banks, including secured sections containing Captain Blair’s personal log.
“But you’ll have to get there the hard way, sir,” Gomez told Gold. “I won’t be able to spare enough power to access the turbolift control network.” She looked around the immense engineering chamber. “They built these old Constitution s tough enough, but their original duotronic systems were never intended for exclusive automation.”
“Dr. Richard Daystrom did attempt to . . . rectify that shortcoming,” Soloman said, “but his multitronic computer project was . . . a failure.”
“That’s certainly an understatement,” Gold replied. He remembered reading how Daystrom’s lauded attempt to follow up his revolutionary duotronic computer systems had ended in fiery tragedy. During an experiment in which the original Enterprise had been outfitted with Daystrom’s prototype multitronic system, the M-5, the new computer had experienced massive malfunction. After locking the Enterprise crew out of the ship’s critical systems, M-5 took the vessel on a murderous rampage. It had ended with the near destruction of four other Constitution -class starships and the deaths of nearly a thousand Starfleet personnel.
“Well, we’re not out to automate the Defiant ,” Gomez said. “We just want to be able to generate enough thrust to help the da Vinci pull us out of the rift, if necessary. Besides, I don’t like the idea of not being able to move under our own power if the need arises.”
She turned back to P8 Blue. “Pattie, I want you to check out that power reading on Deck 20. Take Dr. Lense with you.”
Lense looked up at that. “Commander, I was hoping to investigate sickbay and see if the ship’s doctor recorded any useful information about the physiological effects of interphase on the crew.”
Shaking her head, Gomez replied, “I haven’t forgotten about you, Doctor, but I’d rather not have Pattie roaming the ship alone until you’re certain the rift won’t have any adverse effects on her. Besides, anything the Defiant ’s doctor recorded will be accessible from the bridge.”
Having stepped away from the team to consult his tricorder, which Duffy had prepared by downloading the technical schematics of the Defiant into it, Gold looked up and asked, “All the way from engineering to the bridge by way of the Jefferies tubes?” The smile he directed to Lense was good-natured enough, though. “Oy, I guess I should have seen that one coming. Well, at any rate, the good doctor here will be thrilled to see me get my week’s exercise quotient during this mission.”
The access panel opened with minimal effort on his part, swinging away to be swallowed by the darkness beyond the hole it revealed. David Gold directed the illumination from his helmet lamps through the opening, becoming the first person in over a century to gaze on the abandoned bridge of the U.S.S. Defiant .
He’d toured the Constitution -class starship that was interred at the Fleet Museum several times, of course. With its display placards and directional signs to guide visitors, however, the vessel on exhibit had seemed to be exactly that; an elegant mock-up rather than a functional ship of the line. This was different, much different.
The consoles, the turbolift doors, the railing surrounding the command well, everything was infused with bright colors that were only slightly diminished by the layer of dust covering everything. It was a striking contrast to the bridge of the da Vinci and other ships on which he had served. By current Federation standards, the Defiant ’s systems were hopelessly outdated, but Gold could see in the archaic equipment how the various systems had evolved over the century separating this ship from her modern-day descendants. He could almost feel the history of the era from which this vessel hailed wash over him.
“Gold to Gomez,” he said as he activated his communicator. “I’ve made it to the bridge. What’s the status on power?”
“Almost there, Captain,” Gomez said over the connection. “Soloman should have the main computer on line a few minutes after that.”
“Excellent,” the captain said as he stepped from the access crawlway onto the starboard side of the upper deck next to the main viewscreen. His boots made a satisfying clank as their magnetic seals attached him to the deck.
As with engineering, thick dust hung in the air. At least, that’s how Gold preferred to think of it. The bridge appeared deserted, but he knew better. He’d read the reports filed by Captain Kirk
on their investigation of the Defiant and so was prepared when his light fell on the two skeletal bodies floating near the bridge’s far bulkhead.
Gold figured the skeleton swathed in the gold shirt was the decomposed body of the ship’s commander, Captain Blair, the golden braids on the sleeves of the dust-coated, century-old uniform shirt providing the only hint. The other skeleton wore a red shirt, with no other clues to its wearer’s identity.
Gold idly wondered where the rest of the bridge crew might have gone. Did they abandon their posts while in the grips of the madness brought on by the interphase phenomenon? Were they lying somewhere, their fallen bodies bearing silent witness to the carnage that had eventually overtaken the rest of the crew? Gold was surprised to feel himself shiver at the thought.
And then he nearly had a heart attack when the lights came on.
“ Gottenyu! ” The exclamation burst from his lips as the overhead lighting snapped on and consoles all across the room began their various start-up sequences. True to her word, Gomez had restored power to the bridge. Life flowed through the Defiant ’s nerve center once more.
“Gomez to Captain Gold,” the engineer’s voice sounded in his helmet. “You should have power restored up there.”
Gold sighed as he chuckled to himself. “Thank you, Commander. Now I just need a moment to get my own power source restarted.”
“In a few more minutes I’ll have life support restored to that deck, Captain,” Gomez said. “It’ll make working up there easier and allow us to conserve the oxygen supplies in our suits.”
Taking another look at the bodies of Captain Blair and the unknown crewman hovering in the absence of gravity, Gold’s expression sobered, though there was no one around to see it. The restoration of the Defiant ’s normal atmosphere was sure to have a debilitating effect on any decomposed remains exposed to it.
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