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Chapter Five
Commander Francis
Ryan waited for his captain to finish chewing. Francis, or Frank
as he was known to his friends, was a new first officer. The U.S.S.
Freedom was his first posting as a first officer. He was nearing
his third year anniversary coinciding with his 34th birthday.
Three years he had known and served under Captain Singh Bombay,
the man seated across from him in Ten-Forward.
Ryan was a young
looking blond man with striking good looks. It was a source of
much amusement to his commanding officer that the two of them
were diametrical opposites, he being fair haired and skinned,
and the captain being dark haired and skinned. Ryan being youthful
and he being old. However, his captain didn’t make the error
of mistaking youthful looks for inexperience.
Captain Bombay
had come to respect and admire his first officer, who had served
very well these past three years. The respect and admiration was
mutual. Still, Commander Ryan couldn’t understand one particular
decision Bombay made.
“I don’t
understand how you can eat that with so much curry,” Ryan
said as he tapped his PADD onto his knee.
Bombay smiled
through his thick dark beard, and swallowed the last of his rice.
The Indian man shrugged and drank some of his water. “My
mother always used curry in all of her dishes. You get used to
it. When I entered the Academy, one of the first things I learned
was that I missed curry.”
“The replicators
must have had curry available in their menus,” Ryan offered.
“Replicated
curry? Pah!” Bombay twisted his face in mock disgust. “No,
there is no such thing as replicated curry to me.” He wagged
his finger at his first officer. “Must be original...organic.
So every time I go to Earth, I go home, and get more from my mother.”
Bombay gestured to the bronze shaker that contained the curry
that was set next to his plate on the table.
“Yes, sir,”
Ryan smiled.
“It reminds
me of home... of my childhood. You must have the same thing as
well, Frank. To remind you of your home, in Iowa.”
“Yeah, I
do. Meatloaf with corn on the cob and mashed potatoes.”
Bombay spread
his hands. “Point made.” He wiped at his mouth with
a napkin, and ran his hand through his steel grey hair. “Your
birthday is coming up soon. We shall have that for your birthday
dinner.”
“Oh, Singh,
that’s not necessary,” Ryan blushed. “I mean, you’ve
done that for me last year on my birthday.”
“Yes it is.
All my first officers must have a birthday dinner, every year.
Fifteen years I’ve been a captain, I’ve embarrassed
my first officers on their birthdays. Ask all my former first
officers. Ask Captain Takezo. Ask Captain Podaski. All of them
had to endure the embarrassment.” Bombay rapped his knuckles
on the table top. “You too, will.” His dark brown eyes
twinkled with amusement.
He took a bite
out of his roll, and swallowed it down. “Think of it as motivation
to be promoted to your own captaincy. Motivation to get off my
ship.” He smiled, his white teeth showing through his thick
beard.
“Allright,
sir,” Ryan nodded in surrender. “Although I don’t
think I’m ready to be a captain anytime soon.”
“Oh, don’t
worry. You’ll do a fine job. Besides I don’t plan to
leave anytime soon. I’ll keep showing you the ropes.”
“Allright,”
Ryan nodded.
“No curry
for your dinner, I promise.”
“Okay,”
Ryan smiled.
“Now then,
Engineering needs to realign the EPS manifolds?”
“That’s
right, sir.”
“Mm. Will
that affect our ETA to Centropoli?” Bombay asked.
“No, sir.
We will arrive as scheduled to deliver our supplies. The Romulans
are awaiting our arrival.”
“Mmhmm. Continue
with the status report,” Bombay said, as he used his fork
to scoop up the remaining bits of his rice.
“Yes, sir.”
Ryan held up his PADD and began reading. “Next item--”
Bombay’s
combadge chirped and the voice of his tactical officer, Lieutenant
Elizabeth Maceu broke through. “Bridge to Captain Bombay.”
Bombay swallowed
his food quickly and replied, “Bombay here.”
“Long range
sensors are detecting signs of a firefight.”
Bombay’s
keenly analytical mind ran through the possibilities. A misinterpretation
of sensor readings, a military exercise, a Dominion attack against
the Romulans, or an apprehension of a Romulan criminal. The possibilities
that came to mind didn’t seem like a cause for the Freedom’s
involvement.
“Have you
detected a distress signal?” he asked.
“No, sir.”
“Then why
is this being brought to my attention?” Bombay looked at
Ryan, shrugging.
“Because
one of the weapons signatures we’re reading is Federation
in origin.”
“How can
that be?” Ryan asked. “We’re the only Federation
ship scheduled to be in Romulan space and the other is...”
Bombay stood up,
completing Ryan’s sentence. “The Courageous.”
Bombay sat down
in the command chair. “ETA to the Courageous?”
His helmsman replied,
“Coming up on them in less than a minute.”
“Can you
get them on screen?” Bombay asked.
“Yes, sir.”
Lieutenant Maceu keyed the command. The viewscreen showed the
U.S.S. Courageous surrounded by nearly a dozen small fighter
craft, each wheeling and looping around the ship, green disruptor
fire lancing out to hit the larger ship’s shields.
The Courageous
seemed to be holding her own well, counter firing as rapidly
as the enemy craft were firing. Then a series of green torpedoes
appeared out of empty space and flew out towards the Courageous,
slamming into the ship’s starboard shields. The Federation
starship visibly rocked from the force of the impact.
“Where’d
that come from?” Bombay asked.
“I’m
not sure...” Maceu muttered. She frowned and worked at her
station. Then the viewscreen’s image cleared, and Bombay
could barely make out the image of a black-hulled Romulan Warbird.
Ryan quickly studied
the mystery ship. “It’s got some kind of sensor deflection.
That’s why we missed it. Maceu recalibrated the sensors so
we can see it now.”
Bombay frowned,
all of his former amusement and humor gone from his eyes and expression.
“Have they seen us yet?”
“It doesn’t
appear so,” Maceu answered.
“Let’s
announce our arrival.”
Johnson planted
a foot in front of him, to keep from tumbling out of his seat
as the Courageous shook from the torpedoes. “You son
of bitches,” he growled. “Return fire!”
“Shields
now at 54 percent!” Bogarde called out.
“Why haven’t
we knocked out any of those little buggers yet?” Johnson
shouted.
“I don’t
know!” Ironsides said at OPS. “Their shields are holding
against our phasers.”
“I can see
that!” Johnson glared at the other man. “They’re
holding too well!”
“Sir, another
ship’s dropping out of warp!”
“More Romulans?”
Ruiz asked as she looked up from her console. “Or another
one of those new black warbirds?”
“No, it’s
a Federation ship! Nebula-class. It’s the U.S.S.
Freedom,” Bogarde declared.
The bridge looked
at the viewscreen as the Freedom stretched and shrank into
view from warp. The Freedom didn’t waste time, opening
fire with a series of phaser strikes at some of the small fighters.
The first red phaser beam missed but the others hit their targets
squarely. One fighter spun wildly out of control, heavily damaged.
The other two hit fighters were noticeably slowed down.
Maybe it was just
Johnson, but the other ships seemed to pause for a second, not
knowing what to do. Johnson did know what he wanted to do. “Fire
on those damaged fighters!”
Bogarde obediently
fired, and the first one exploded in a burst of plasma, and the
other began leaking something. The wounded fighter limped away
from the battlefield.
The Freedom
continued pressing her advantage, firing on the other fighters
and unleashing a spread of photon torpedoes at the black Warbird.
The black Warbird
was struck, and counter-fired at the interloper, raking the bottom
of the Nebula-class ship’s saucer with green disruptor
fire.
The Courageous
fired at the black Warbird using quantum torpedoes, taking advantage
of the damage the Freedom caused.
“Enemy shields
are at 59 percent now!” Bogarde announced. Johnson smiled
grimly, then a shudder told him all was not over yet. The fighter
squadron had regrouped and continued their relentless assault
on the Courageous.
“Our shields
are down to 49 percent!”
“Contact
the Freedom’s captain, tell them to focus their fire
on the fighters. They’re giving us the most trouble!”
Johnson ordered.
The Freedom
looped around the wounded black Warbird and began firing again
upon the small fighter craft, inflicting damage. Johnson nodded,
and looked at Ensign LeAnn. “LeAnn, turn ten degrees to port.
Bogarde, lock onto the black Warbird. Fire our mini-phaser cannons.”
The Courageous
spun in place, facing the black Warbird dead on. The bridge hummed
and the hairs on the back of Johnson’s neck stood on end
as the mini-phaser cannons that flanked the bridge, atop curved
spires, fired. Johnson could see as the phaser beams punched through
the Warbird’s shields and rip across the winged sections
on the enemy ship.
“Yes!”
he hissed as he watched the green glow of one warp nacelle faded,
signifying loss of power. The Warbird wheeled around and flew
away in obvious retreat.
Johnson was about
to give the order to obliterate the enemy ship, regardless of
Starfleet Rules of Combat, when he heard Bogarde call out.
“Captain!”
“What?”
he shouted.
“Look,”
Bogarde said.
The viewscreen
shifted to a different view. It showed the Freedom now.
The remaining nine fighters had lined up in single file, and were
rushing up against the Freedom. The lead fighter fired
on the other ship, then veered away at the last second, going
to warp. The next fighter did the same, and the next, the row
of fighters hammering away at the Freedom’s shields.
The whole thing
was happening too fast for the Courageous to intercede.
They could only watch as the ninth and final fighter ship made
its approach. Instead of firing, it sped up.
“It’s
going to ram the Freedom’s shields!” Kyle gasped.
Johnson gritted
his teeth as he watched the small craft explode as it impacted
against the Freedom’s shields. Johnson could recognize
the signs of buckling shields as blue lights flashed around the
Freedom.
“Why the
hell did they do that?” Johnson muttered, when the answer
became apparent.
“A ship is
decloaking!” Ironsides shouted, as Bogarde said the same
thing.
Johnson watched
as the viewscreen showed the usual rippling of a decloak appeared
directly behind the Freedom. Space remained black however,
and Johnson realized they were looking at another mysterious black
Warbird. It opened fire on the unshielded Freedom, disruptor
fire raking mercilessly across the hull.
One green disruptor
beam tore through the ship, coming out a hole in the bottom of
the Freedom’s saucer. As quickly as the Warbird appeared,
it disappeared, rippling back into darkness.
“It’s
gone to warp,” Ironsides said.
Johnson breathed
heavily, assessing the situation. Hull breaches leaked from the
black gouges on the Freedom. “Are there anymore of
the black ones in hiding?”
“I’m
not sure,” Ironsides said. “I don’t think so.”
“Bogarde,
get ready to put shields up at any minute.”
“Aye, sir.”
Bogarde nodded. “Sir, the Freedom is hailing us.”
“On screen.”
The viewscreen
showed a shaky, static-streaked view of the Freedom’s
bridge. Smoke hovered near the edge of the viewscreen. Johnson
could make out a tall blond man and a woman standing at an aft
station.
“This is
Commander Francis Ryan. We are in serious need for assistance.”
“This is
Captain Thomas Johnson. Where’s your captain?”
Ryan looked down
and sighed deeply. “Captain Bombay is dead.”
“Twenty-four
dead, forty-two injured,” Ryan sighed. His face was expressionless,
blank. He hadn’t changed out of his uniform, which showed
singe marks from where a fire erupted near him. His appearance
was out of place in the conference room with the rest of the Courageous’s
bridge crew.
Johnson looked
over to Hartman, wordlessly asking for his report. Hartman glanced
at his PADD and spoke. “Since their sickbay was partially
damaged, I had some of their more serious patients beamed over
here for treatment. Most injuries ranged from superficial to moderate
injuries. All of those cases were treated and the patients discharged,
ready for duty. The more serious cases will need at least a few
days to recover... four, five days tops. The Freedom’s
CMO has requested that those patients stay in the Courageous’s
sickbay.”
“What of
the cargo you were carrying?” Johnson asked the acting captain.
Ryan swallowed
and sighed. “The cargo bays received only minimal damage.
Most of the cargo is intact.”
“Engine status?”
“80 percent
strength,” Ryan answered.
Johnson looked
at Ruiz. “Lieutenant, how long would it take us to escort
the Freedom to Centropoli?”
“Sir, about
twelve hours.”
“Nathan,
would the Praetor understand if we were twelve hours late for
our arrival to Romulus?” Johnson asked the ambassador.
“Well, they
value punctuality... but in this case I’m sure they can be
made to understand the circumstances,” Favor nodded.
“It’s
settled then,” Johnson cleared his throat. “We’ll
escort the Freedom to Centropoli to make their deliveries.”
A chirp sounded.
“Freedom to Acting Captain Ryan. We need you in Engineering.”
“Uh, acknowledged,”
Ryan spoke into his combadge. “I’m on my, uh, way.”
He slowly stood up from the table, and glanced over at Johnson
for permission to leave.
Johnson nodded,
waving his hand. “You may go.” He watched Ryan walk
slowly out of the conference room, and frowned. He glanced over
at Kyle. “Lieutenant, why don’t you join him, and help
him out?”
“Yes, sir,”
Kyle nodded, and quickly got up to follow the commander.
When the conference
room door slid shut, Favor turned back to the group. “I don’t
mean to be indelicate, but what about the bodies?”
“They’re
in stasis,” Hartman answered. “On the Freedom.”
Johnson nodded,
and leaned forward in his chair, placing his hands on the table.
“Since we’re in Romulan space, I don’t want to
have their funeral here. I’d rather them be taken back into
Federation space by the Freedom.”
“I see,”
Favor nodded. After a moment’s silence, Favor opened his
mouth to ask another question. “What about for us?”
“What do
you mean?” Hartman turned to face Favor.
“Well, when
we’re in the Borderlands, we’ll be far away from Federation
space. We won’t have anyone to take our bodies back home.”
“Well, I
hope that we don’t have to face that question,” Johnson
said. “But if it happens, it happens.”
Favor sighed,
not quite satisfied. But he knew well enough to let the matter
rest. Johnson quickly shifted the subject. “Analysis. What
the hell happened?”
Garak cleared
his throat. “My analysis of sensor readings indicate that
the fighters’ shields were equipped to resist our particular
phaser frequency.”
“Like the
Borg adapts to our phasers?” Ruiz asked.
“Very nearly
like that,” Garak nodded once.
“Could they
be using Borg technology?” Johnson asked.
“Oh no,”
Garak held a grey hand up. “As I’m sure you’ve
noticed, when the Freedom made its fortuitous arrival,
they inflicted severe damage to the fighters, and the craft did
not adapt to their phaser frequency at all. I think what we’re
looking at here is inside information.”
“What do
you mean?” Ironsides asked.
“I’m
saying is that somehow, the enemy learned of the Courageous’s
specific phaser frequency, and applied that to their shield harmonics.”
“I don’t
like the sound of this,” Favor declared. “I know you
all are going to suspect the Romulan delegation, but...I can’t
believe it.”
“You’d
be surprised at the secrets one can hide,” Ironsides nodded.
“But Chief
Bogarde scanned them for espionage devices, and came up negative,”
Favor countered.
Bogarde nodded.
“He’s right. I’ve performed multiple scans on our
guests and have not found any indications of spying gear.”
“I know that,”
Johnson said. “But if Garak is right, we have a leak somewhere.
I intend to plug it. Chief, I want you to lock down all non-essential
computer terminals. Downgrade the Romulans’ security access.
Nathan, if they ask, just explain it’s standard procedure
during damage control.”
“Allright,”
Favor sighed, shaking his head. “But you know my feelings
about this.”
“We certainly
know your feelings about Selari,” Bogarde muttered under
his breath.
“What was
that?” Favor glared at the chief. “I’ll have you
know that my personal feelings for Selari in no way compromises
my job performance. And by no means does it change my loyalty
to the Federation.” He stared at Bogarde, anger flaring in
his eyes. “I would never, ever betray my ship and my government!”
“That’s
enough, Ambassador,” Johnson held a hand up. “We know
that you’re loyal.” He turned to Bogarde. “Chief,
on my ship, we don’t go around making backhanded accusations.
If you’re serious about this, you damn well better have evidence
to back it up.”
“I’m
sorry, sir,” Bogarde looked down at the table top in contrition.
“I’m
not the one you have to apologize to.”
Bogarde took a
breath and looked at Favor. “I apologize, Ambassador. I was
out of line.”
“Apology
accepted,” Favor’s angry frown faded.
“Back to
the point. What we need is evidence,” Johnson declared. “Garak,
if you suspect a leak, find it.”
“Yes, sir,”
the Cardassian nodded briskly.
“Nathan,
you’ll have to do a little damage control with the Romulans.
And...” Johnson paused, knowing Favor wouldn’t like
the next command. “I want you to keep an eye on them.”
“Yes, sir,”
Favor nodded, disappointment registering on his face.
“What the
hell happened to our escorts, anyway?”
Bogarde shrugged.
“They said they all had malfunctions in their warp drive.
They’re saying sabotage. Sensor readings can’t confirm
or deny it.”
“Nathan,
see what Ambassador Selenta has to say about that,” Johnson
asked.
“Everyone
else, you know what to do. I want repairs completed as soon as
possible on the Freedom and the Courageous. Fonda,
see to it that their Sickbay is taken care of. I don’t want
to be saddled with their crew in our Sickbay. I want them to be
capable of going back home by themselves. And I want us to be
ready for another attack. Dismissed, except for the ambassador.”
After the others
filed out of the room, Johnson walked over to sit in a chair next
to Favor. He let out a long frustrated sigh, interlacing his fingers
together. He looked at the ambassador for a moment, in silence.
Finally, he spoke.
“Do you trust
Selari?”
“Yeah,”
Favor nodded. “Yes, I do.”
“I don’t
have to tell you that we’re in the dark here.”
“I know.”
“You know
what I’m asking you to do?”
“I do. I’ll
see what I can find out.”
“Thanks,
Nathan.”
“May I have
the sensor logs of your scans on the Romulans?” Garak asked
Bogarde as the chief took his station at tactical.
“Sure, but
I don’t think you’ll find anything,” he said as
he tapped his fingers on the console before him.
“Perhaps
not, but I like to think positively,” Garak smiled.
Bogarde turned
to look down at Garak. He shook his head slightly. “You’re
a strange man.”
“Thank you.”
Garak held his personal PADD to download Bogarde’s files.
“There was a time when I would have killed you for saying
that, but I’ve come to accept my lot in life.” When
the computer beeped, signaling the end of the download, Garak
gave Bogarde an impromptu salute with the PADD, and left the bridge.
Bogarde wasn’t
entirely sure Garak was joking.
Ent’sei grinned,
as she watched the records of the battle. “Yes...very good...”
As the recording ended, she looked up at Danek. “Almost according
to plan,” she stated.
“Yes,”
he nodded. “The Freedom’s interference was unanticipated.
But as you saw, it was appropriately punished.”
“Mmhmm. Our
listening posts heard that their captain was killed in the battle.
But the damage the Freedom did can’t be taken back.
Johnson and his men will figure out there is a leak.”
“They’ll
never figure out it’s her.”
“Maybe. Maybe
not. I’ve learned not to be surprised at what the Feds can
do. Picard and his crew taught me that.” The shadow leader
sighed, tapping a finger to her chin. “Is the Courageous
back on course for Romulus?”
“Actually,
no.” Danek glanced at his green PADD. “They’ve
changed course, heading for Centropoli. Apparently they’re
escorting the Freedom and her cargo. They’ll be at
least twelve hours late for their planned arrival.”
“I see. Adjust
our strategy accordingly,” she said with a wave of her hand.
“See to it that when the Fed ships leave, the cargo is poisoned.
Centropoli and the rest of the Empire must learn the folly of
trading with the Federation.”
Ent’sei stood
up and walked over to a large compute monitor displaying schematics
of the Courageous. “Have we learned more about the
ship?”
“Yes, sir.
Sensor data was bountiful in the last engagement. We now know
more about these...’mini-cannons,’ ” Danek said,
pointing to the thin weapons that protruded from the surface of
the Courageous’s saucer.
“Good...good.
The more we know about the ship, the easier it will be to destroy
it utterly.”
“It was wise
of you to arrange the loss of their escorts.”
Ent’sei sighed,
and looked at Danek. “Don’t flatter me,” she shook
her head. “I know how smart I am. But sometimes I wonder
about you.”
Danek smiled weakly.
He hated taking her insults in stride. Especially from a person
such as her. He secretly thought, as he had thought many times
before, that the real reason she liked being the shadow leader
was because she hated being seen. He could see why she hated her
own appearance.
But the way she
kept putting his intelligence down...he couldn’t handle that.
It wasn’t as if she was the most brilliant tactical leader
the Romulan Star Empire ever had. She spoke of her engagements
with Picard and the Enterprise with pride, but each and
every one ended with her running away with her tail between her
legs.
No, Danek thought,
she wasn’t the most brilliant tactical leader. But she certainly
was one of the most devious and unpredictable ones. Even though
he was her right-hand man, he couldn’t shake the feeling
that she could have him killed and easily replaced. So, for now,
he bit his tongue and kept his mouth shut.
“Any other
orders?” he asked.
“Yes. As
soon as the Courageous leaves the Centroi system, attack.
Factor in the Freedom’s phasers.”
“Yes, Ent’sei.”
“Go now.”
Chapter Six
“Thank you
for making your delivery,” Consul Temelk nodded on the viewscreen.
“The Federation
wishes to prove our commitment to our Trade Treaty,” Johnson
said in his seat on the bridge.
“I am sorry
for the loss of life your ships suffered. I’ve been assured
by my government that action will be taken.”
“I have heard
those assurances,” Johnson nodded. Privately, he doubted
much action would be taken. Ambassador Selenta was currently trying
to procure another set of Warbirds to replace the ones that betrayed
them earlier. She also relayed the Praetor’s deepest apologies
for the shameful incident. Johnson was still not completely sure
if the Praetor wasn’t behind the attacks. Still, he put on
a diplomatic front and grinned and bore it.
“I know how
much your planet needs this supply drop. I’ve read the reports
on the mysterious famine that has swept across your farmlands,”
Johnson nodded sympathetically.
The Consul let
out a soft sigh. Johnson could see the concern and fatigue etched
on his face. Temelk gave Johnson a slight smile. “There are
some who say this isn’t natural...that this famine was engineered
as revenge against us. You know our planet was one of the first
to volunteer to begin trading with the Federation.” He shrugged
and shook his head. “Personally, I feel it is just...how
do you say? Bad luck. Coincidence.”
“Mmhmm,”
Johnson nodded. “Well, the transporter rooms report that
they will be done beaming down the cargo to you in less than ten
minutes. Let us know when you’ve received them all.”
“I shall
do that,” said Temelk.
“Courageous
out,” Johnson ended the conversation. He sighed and looked
at his first officer. “What do you think?”
“About what?”
Ironsides looked up.
“The famine.
The consul mentioned that some people thought it was created as
retribution.”
Ironsides shrugged.
“I can’t really comment. This is the first I’ve
heard of it. I’d have to know more to comment on it.”
Johnson settled
into his seat, rubbing his chin. “Yeah. Well, to be honest,
I wouldn’t dismiss it out of hand, like Temelk said. I wouldn’t
put it over the Romulans to do that to their own.”
“You do have
to admit that there is some deep seated hatred towards the Federation.”
“I know,”
Johnson nodded. He looked at the viewscreen and at the tan-green
surface of the planet below. “Stupid. The Earth-Romulan war
has been over for centuries, and yet...”
“Some of
our people don’t approve of our alliance with the Klingons,”
Ironsides pointed out.
“Stupidity
isn’t limited to one species,” Johnson observed.
“Kyle to
Courageous,” the comm system chimed.
“Johnson
here. Are you done?” the captain asked Kyle, who was in the
cargo bays on the Freedom.
“Yes, we’ve
just transported the last crate to the planet’s surface.
Their people report a complete and successful reception.”
“Good. How
are the repairs progressing on the Freedom?”
“The ship
is well above minimum safety requirements. She can go now.”
“Good. Tell
Acting Captain Ryan that he can set course back to the Federation.”
“Actually,
the acting captain wishes to speak with you,” Kyle said.
Bogarde reported,
“The Freedom is hailing us, asking to speak with you.”
“I see. Well
put it on the screen,” Johnson commanded.
The planet on
the viewscreen gave way to a view of the Freedom’s
bridge. It had been cleaned up significantly since the last time
Johnson saw it. He could still see signs of battle damage and
fire damage in various spots. The bridge crew were standing behind
Ryan.
“What is
it, Acting Captain?” Johnson asked.
“Sir, I’ve
talked it over with the crew. I know we’re due back at Starbase
231, but we would like...no, we wish to remain with you,”
Ryan said.
“What?”
Ryan shifted on
his feet, obviously nervous speaking to Johnson. “That is,
we want to be your escort now. You can’t really rely on the
Romulans anymore.”
Johnson frowned.
“You mean that the whole crew of the Freedom volunteers
for this?”
“Yes, sir,”
Ryan nodded. Several of the others behind him nodded their agreement.
“You’re the Federation flagship. You deserve more respect
that you’ve been getting.”
Ironsides whispered
to Johnson. “One of the conditions set on us for our travel
through Romulan territory was no other Federation ships.”
“I know,”
Johnson whispered back. “But I think after the recent events,
we know they’re not playing by the rules. So why the hell
should we?”
Ironsides straightened
up, moving away from Johnson’s side, indicating his implicit
acceptance of whatever Johnson would decide.
Johnson smiled
at Ryan. “I appreciate what you’re doing. I would be
honored to have you as my escort. Allright. You’re welcome
to come along for the ride.”
Ryan sighed, relieved
that Johnson accepted. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
Johnson waved
his hand at the viewscreen. “You guys can stop standing at
attention. At ease.”
The Freedom’s
bridge crew smiled and nodded at the captain as they took their
stations. Only Ryan remained standing.
“Is there
anything else?” Johnson inquired.
“Yes. As
you know, most of the command staff were either killed or injured
seriously. I don’t have enough officers to run the ship smoothly.
And if we’re going to be any good for you, I’ll need
some personnel transferred over.”
“Yes, that’s
an appropriate course of action,” Johnson nodded. “I’ll
have my first officer review our crew and transfer some to your
ship.”
“Yes, sir.”
“We’ll
get back to you on that. Courageous out.” As the viewscreen
changed back to a view of Centropoli, Johnson turned to look at
Ironsides.
“I’m
already on it,” the major told him.
“Good. While
you’re at it, put yourself on the list. I’d rather have
you command the ship while we’re in danger of further attacks.
I’ve seen Ryan’s record. He’s had very little combat
experience. You have much more combat experience than he has,
and I’d feel better with you at the head. Also, having some
Courageous crewmembers on their ship might help, if the
Romulans object to us having a Federation escort. We can use that
as an excuse if necessary.”
Ironsides nodded,
and turned his attention back to the personnel records he had
displayed on his screen at OPS.
“So the Freedom
is now accompanying the Courageous?” Ent’sei
glared at Danek.
“That’s
what our intelligence reports indicate,” the Tal Shiar chairman
replied.
“That’s
a violation of their travel conditions! Why haven’t they
been confronted by it yet? What did the Praetor say?”
“The Praetor
has said nothing. We’ve intercepted several communiques regarding
the Courageous a few times since then, and there has been
no mention of their new escort. My guess is that the Praetor is
overlooking this because of the hardships the ship has had since
entering Romulan space.”
“Spineless,”
Ent’sei spat out. “I miss the Praetors of old. They
knew how to handle threats. This one we have... apparently can’t.
Perhaps...”
“Perhaps
what?” Danek prompted.
“Never mind.
What of their investigation?”
“Whose investigation?
The Praetor’s or the Courageous’s?”
“Both,”
Ent’sei sighed.
Danek consulted
his PADD. “The Praetor’s investigation has been stalled.
Our operatives have fed his investigative team false information
and dead ends. They have no idea where the Raptors are coming
from. I do have to admit that the general feeling on Romulus is
that the Tal Shiar has some involvement in it, though I have been
vigorously denying it to the Praetor himself.”
“Good. And
what of the Courageous?”
“Our operatives
have not been able to get definite information. We can only guess
that they know about our modified shielding. It’s only a
matter of time before the pieces fall into place.”
“Then we
shall have to move into our final phase earlier than possible.
Make the necessary arrangements for the fleet. Have my transport
ready to take me. I will lead them.”
“Yes, sir,”
Danek nodded.
“Inform the
reconnaissance ship to await my arrival. I wish to view my prey
first.”
“Are you
sure that’s wise? What if they have discovered how to circumvent
our sensor deflectors?”
She turned to
look at Danek derisively. “Our Black Hawks are the product
of years of research and development. They are the most advanced
Warbirds ever produced by the Empire.”
“Yet the
Courageous and Freedom were able to defeat and drive
off two of them,” Danek pointed out.
She sighed. “They
were not prepared for a full assault. We will be prepared now.”
Danek tilted his
head, conceding the point to her. “Very well. I shall tell
them to wait for you at the base.”
Ent’sei stood
up and headed out the inner sanctum. She paused at the door to
look at Danek. “The Courageous will not reach Romulus.
Captain Johnson will not sully the ground of Romulus with his
boot prints.”
Garak walked into
the transporter room, startling the lieutenant on duty. Ayers
looked at the Cardassian as he walked across the room straight
to the buffer controls.
“Uh, can
I help you?”
“Actually,
yes you could,” Garak smiled, turning back to the lieutenant.
“I wish to review the transporter patterns of our esteemed
Romulan guests. Might you call those up for me?”
“I can do
that,” Lieutenant Ayers said. She walked over to the monitor
Garak was standing at. Soon, Garak had downloaded the information
he wanted.
“Thank you,
lieutenant. I appreciate your help,” Garak said as he left
the transporter room.
Hartman heard
the doors to sickbay open, and he looked up through the clear
walls of his office to see Garak walk in. “Hello, Garak.
Is there something wrong?”
“Yes,”
Garak nodded as he walked into Hartman’s office. “We’re
in the middle of Romulan space.”
Hartman smiled
and stood up from his desk. “Other than that?”
“No,”
Garak shook his head. “I am perfectly fine. I wish to access
the Starfleet Medical Database, but since the captain has ordered
a security lock-down, the only available access terminal is in
Sickbay One.”
“I see,”
Hartman nodded. “Well, you can use that diagnostic terminal
to access the database. I’ll unlock it for you from this
terminal.” The doctor waved his hand at his desktop monitor.
“I hope I’m
not interrupting anything,” Garak said.
“Oh, no.
As you can see, most of the patients from the Freedom are
back in their quarters. Thrusk and the other nurses are monitoring
the severe cases over there.”
Garak looked at
biobeds occupied by some crewmembers and the nurses at their sides.
Hartman continued, “Dr. Michelanos is having lunch. I was
just reading e-messages from some of my old friends on the Avalon.”
“Ah. Well,
you can return to your letters now. I won’t be long.”
“Okay,”
Hartman nodded. “Computer, unlock Starfleet Medical Database,
allow access to user Garak.”
“Confirmed,”
the computer responded. Hartman looked at Garak and nodded. The
Cardassian walked out of the office and went to the unused diagnostic
station, and sat down to begin work.
About an hour
later, Garak returned to Hartman’s office. “I am finished.
You may lock the database again.”
Hartman nodded,
and tapped in the command on his desktop monitor. “Database
locked now,” the computer intoned.
“Can I help
you with anything else?” Hartman asked.
Garak sat down
in front of Hartman’s desk, and slid his PADD over to Hartman.
“Look at those two bio-readings. Would you say they look
similar?”
Hartman picked
up the PADD, glancing at the graphic readouts displayed. “Yes,
they look similar.”
“I thought
as much. Thank you for your help. I’ll be taking my leave
of you now. Have a good day.”
“You too,”
Hartman said. Garak rose and walked towards the sickbay entrance.
“Hey wait, Garak! What was I looking at?”
“A suspect,”
Garak said as the doors slid shut. The Cardassian walked out into
the corridors of the ship. He continued walking down the corridor
to a turbolift. As luck would have it, a turbolift was available
at the very moment he tapped the call panel.
He stepped inside
and stood near the door. He sighed, shaking his head. he preferred
the larger turbolifts of Deep Space Nine to these smaller
ones on starships. He knew that preference was because he still
struggled with his claustrophobia at times.
The turbolift
stopped short of his destination and opened for another person.
Garak looked at the new arrival. “Oh,” he said. “Madam.
I had not expected to see you. I thought you’d be with the
others, in one of your meetings.”
He looked at her
again. “Enjoying your stay on the Courageous, I hope?”
She only looked
at him. Garak smiled uneasily at her. “Silly things, are
they? Federation turbolifts?”
She said nothing.
“I’ve
never liked places without corners,” Garak said. “I
suppose it’s because I grew up with the Cardassian aesthetic.”
He put out his hands to glide over the curved wall. “Those
smooth rounded walls. Almost organic, don’t you think? Like
we’re in a giant pill, that the Courageous swallows
up. Funny, I never noticed that before.”
Garak glanced
around nervously. His breathing became more rapid. “Is it
hotter in here? Seems smaller than before...No! The walls are
moving! Closing in!”
He screamed at
her, “Don’t you see it?! We’re going to be crushed!
Stop the turbolift! Get me out!” He dropped to his knees,
cowering. He dropped his PADD and covered his head with his hands,
screaming and sobbing.
The turbolift
stopped, and the doors opened to an empty corridor. She stepped
over the unconscious form of Garak, and stepped on his PADD, cracking
the display screen. “You will forget,” she whispered,
as she walked away.
The turbolift
doors closed, taking Garak up to another deck. The turbolift doors
opened and an ensign walked in. He nearly tripped over Garak.
“Ensign Stokowski to sickbay, medical emergency!”
Johnson sighed,
crossing his arms as he stood by the biobed Garak laid on. “So
what’s the prognosis?”
Hartman shrugged
frustratedly next to Johnson. “I don’t know. I can’t
even make a clear diagnosis. He’s basically in a coma. But
I've tried everything I know to try and bring him out of it. Nothing’s
working.”
“How long
could he be like this?”
“No idea,”
Hartman admitted.
Johnson sighed
again, shaking his head. He turned to look up at Bogarde who was
standing next to him as well. “What did you find at the scene?”
Bogarde held out
Garak’s broken PADD. “We only found this. His PADD.
As you can see, it’s broken. We’re not sure if it was
broken by Ensign Stokowski when he walked into the turbolift,
or by the medical personnel.”
“I see. Anything
salvageable on it?”
“The techs
were able to pull out some info. It seems he was working on who
the inside operative was.”
“Any leads?”
Hartman asked.
“No,”
Bogarde looked at the doctor. “At least, not on the files
we could recover. The files that were in the cache were erased
when the PADD broke. A short circuit wiped out the recent files.”
“Oh, Garak
showed me a graphic readout, two biosigns on it. I don’t
know whose they were. When I asked him what the readouts were,
he said they were of a suspect,” Hartman offered.
“That’s
something, at least,” Johnson said.
Bogarde nodded.
“I’ll go back to the techs and tell them to look for
any sort of medical files.”
“You might
want to look at the Starfleet Medical Database to see what files
Garak accessed,” Hartman said.
“Allright,”
Bogarde replied.
“I expect
a report in two hours,” Johnson ordered.
Johnson walked
down the corridor, clenching and unclenching his jaw. Ironsides
ran up alongside him and fell into step next to the captain. “Sir.
You wanted to see me?”
“Yeah,”
Johnson replied. “I have to be in a meeting with the ambassadors,
so I don’t have time to check on Fonda. With Kyle on the
Freedom, that leaves you. So I’d like you to see what
progress Engineering has made on preparations for another confrontation.”
“Yes, sir.
You expect them to attack on the way to Romulus?”
Johnson shook
his head. “No. I expect nothing but the unexpected.”
“I see. A
smart move, sir.”
“Dismissed,”
Johnson said, as he stepped up to the turbolift.
Ironsides nodded.
He turned to head for another turbolift that would take him down
to Engineering. A few moments later, he was in Engineering.
“Hello, Major,”
Fonda said as she looked at Ironsides. “What can I do for
you?”
“The captain
can’t make it, so you’ll have to update me instead.”
“Ah,”
Fonda said. “Well, I’m sorry to say we don’t have
all that much new to report since that last briefing.” The
chief walked over to a wall display. “To combat surveillance,
we’ve been changing our shield modulations on a staggered
schedule. We’ve told the Engineering department on the Freedom
to do the same thing. The same goes for phasers.”
“Feels vaguely
like Borg combat techniques,” Ironsides remarked.
“Same thought
here too,” Fonda smiled wryly. “You know, it’s
possible that’s where they based their research on.”
“Interesting
theory. Last I heard, intelligence reports didn’t say anything
about Borg based research.” Ironsides looked at the monitors,
which showed various sensor recordings. “What is that of?”
Fonda peered at
the readings. “Oh, yes. Those are the readings we got after
we remodulated our sensors to get past those black warbirds’
sensor deflectors.”
“Those look
familiar. I can’t quite put my finger on it.”
Fonda looked at
Ironsides thoughtfully. “Well if you get any ideas, let me
know, or contact Dr. Joh.”
“Will do.
How about those readings?”
Fonda looked at
the display Ironsides pointed out, and continued his report.
“Are you
feeling better?” Dr. Michelanos asked the seated Raven. The
tall man nodded, while rubbing his temples.
“The headache
is fading slightly,” he answered the doctor.
“Good,”
Michelanos nodded. He held up a PADD. “This is the fifth
time you’ve had to come in for these headaches. When did
this one start?”
Raven shook his
head. “I’m not sure. I think about five hours ago. I
was in the Marine barracks and all of a sudden, I had a blinding
stab of pain run through my head. I almost fell down, but Lieutenant
Dawson caught me and held me steady.”
“Why didn’t
you come to us then?”
“I thought
it’d be best for me just to rest. Besides, the sharp pain
faded about five minutes afterwards, and I was left only with
a dull ache. When it didn’t go away after lying down for
several hours, I decided to come in and see you.”
“Allright,”
Michelanos nodded, entering the information onto the PADD. “Well,
you just lie down, and rest for a while. I’ll come back to
see how you’re doing in twenty minutes.”
“Very well,”
Raven nodded. He turned around and laid back on the biobed, closing
his eyes.
Dr. Michelanos
walked over to another patient, who was holding his arm gingerly.
He paused to glance over at the CMO’s office. He could see
Dr. Hartman and Chief Bogarde talking through the clear windows.
He turned back to the patient. “What seems to be the problem?”
Bogarde walked
past Michelanos and left the sickbay. Hartman left his office
and walked up to Dr. Michelanos and the seated lieutenant. He
looked at Raven resting at the far wall of the sickbay. “Hello.
What do we have here?”
“Just a simple
sprained wrist,” Michelanos replied.
“Yeah,”
the lieutenant nodded. “I was in a Jeffries tube and I put
my hand on my spanner which was on the floor, and slipped, twisting
my wrist wrong.”
“It’ll
be fine in a hour,” Michelanos told them both. “Just
take it easy on that hand.”
Hartman smiled.
“And be more aware of where you put your tools.”
The lieutenant
grinned sheepishly. “Yes, sir.” He got to his feet and
walked out of the sickbay, testing out his wrist.
Hartman turned
to Michelanos, and leaned back against the biobed, crossing his
arms. “How’s Raven doing? Another one of those strange
headaches?”
Michelanos nodded.
“Started about five hours ago. A sharp pain nearly sent him
to his knees.”
“I see,”
Hartman nodded. Michelanos handed him his PADD so the CMO could
review the file. “Five hours ago...hmm.” He walked over
to Raven.
“Hello, doctor,”
Raven said.
“Thought
you were sleeping,” Hartman said.
Raven shook his
head. “Just resting. I see Chief Bogarde was here. What were
you two discussing, if I may ask?”
“Oh, we were
just discussing what Garak was studying before he went into his
coma. He had recently accessed the Starfleet Medical Database.
Actually, it’s funny that you should be here. One of the
files he was looking at was of Betazoids. Also, Vulcans, Andorians
and several other species.”
“Hmm,”
Raven murmured. “All telepathic.”
“Yes,”
Hartman nodded. He looked at the PADD. “Hmm. What do you
know...your headache started about five hours ago?”
“Yes.”
“Looks like
it started around the same time Garak was found in his coma.”
Raven leaned up
into a sitting position. “Do you think there’s a connection?”
“Sounds a
little bit too much like a coincidence for my tastes. Would you
please lie down?”
Raven obliged,
laying back down. Hartman picked up some small devices and stood
by Raven’s head. “I’m going to place these cortical
scanners on you and look at your brain waves.”
Raven nodded as
Hartman placed the small blinking devices on Raven’s temples.
Hartman looked up at the monitor on the wall above the biobed.
The monitor showed a clear brain rotating, along with a series
of wave graphs running from left to right over the brain. He glanced
at Michelanos, who stood near Hartman. Hartman pressed in a few
commands on the control panel, and another brain graphic showed
up with a new set of waves.
“Notice the
similarity?” Hartman asked Michelanos.
“Yes, I see
it.”
Hartman looked
down at Raven. “Okay, you can sit up.”
Raven slowly sat
up, and turned to look at the monitor. “What do you see?”
“The one
on the left is of your brain. The one on the right is of Garak’s
brain,” Hartman explained. He pointed to one particular wave.
“You can see a similar pattern here.”
“Yes,”
Raven nodded.
“That particular
wave is given off by telepathic waves.”
“Why would
Garak be giving off these waves? As far as I know, Cardassians
don’t have telepaths.”
“He’s
not giving off telepathic waves. He’s receiving them,”
Hartman clarified. “Look. You can see a clear repetition
pattern here. Almost as if he’s getting a feedback loop.”
“Why didn’t
you see this before?” Raven asked.
“I didn’t
look for telepath waves, because I wasn’t expecting it,”
Hartman admitted.
“You think
someone aboard the ship is interfering with Garak’s normal
brain function and mine?”
“It’s
possible, but I don’t know for sure.”
Raven slid off
the biobed, standing up. “Only one way to find out.”
He walked over to Garak before Hartman or Michelanos could protest.
The tall hybrid Bajoran placed his broad hand on Garak’s
scaly forehead, and closed his eyes.
Hartman and Michelanos
rushed up to Raven’s side. A moment later, Raven began convulsing,
struggling to stand upright. Hartman placed a hand on Raven’s
arm, and the older man shook him off. After several minutes, Raven
pulled his hand off Garak’s forehead, panting with exertion.
“What did
you find?” Hartman asked.
“He’s
buried. Buried inside of his mind,” Raven leaned over, breathing
heavily.
“I think
Garak has bouts with claustrophobia at times. It stems from childhood.”
“Yes, that’s
it. Whoever this telepath is, he used that to trigger a mental
shutdown.”
“That’s
why we’ve been unable to revive him,” Michelanos sighed.
“We can’t combat telepathic suggestions.”
“But I can,”
Raven said, standing tall again.
“Are you
sure you can handle it?” Hartman asked worriedly. “Only
a few minutes in his mind sapped your strength. And you’re
only half Betazoid after all. Odds are, your telepathic powers
aren’t as strong as this telepath.”
Raven nodded wearily.
“I know. But...if I do this, I might be able to revive Garak
and learn what he knew that put him into this coma. I have to
do this, for the ship’s safety.”
“Well I can
see I can’t argue with you on this. Will you at least consent
to monitoring?”
“Of course,”
Raven nodded. “You may leave those things on.” He gestured
to the blinking devices on his temples. “I will rest first,
before I go back in.” He walked back to his biobed, and laid
back down.
Hartman went to
Michelanos’s side. “I’m going to inform Captain
Johnson about this. Keep a close watch on the both of them. If
it looks like you’ll lose either one of them, try to pull
Raven out of it.”
“Will do.”
Ironsides stepped
into Johnson’s ready room, frowning to himself. He looked
at the meeting in progress at Johnson’s desk. Upon seeing
the Romulans, he opened his mouth, and nearly broke into a smile.
“I want my
damn emitter station,” Johnson punctuated his words with
his fist on his desk. He looked up to see Ironsides. Selenta and
Selari turned in their seats to look at the newcomer. Ambassador
Favor flashed Ironsides a smile before looking down at a PADD.
“Yes, Major?”
Johnson cleared his throat.
“I hope I’m
not interrupting anything,” Ironsides replied.
Johnson shook
his head. “No, you’re not. In fact we were just about
finished here.” He looked at the other ambassadors for confirmation.
“The captain
is correct,” Selenta declared. “Especially if he persists
in asking for something without giving something else in return,”
she said coldly.
“Fine,”
Johnson said, thin-lipped. “I look forward to the next meeting.
We do have one more left before we arrive at Romulus?”
“That’s
right,” Selari commented.
Johnson looked
at Favor. “Nathan, you’ll schedule that, right?”
“I’ll
take care of it,” Favor answered.
As Selenta and
Selari stood to leave, Johnson smiled at them. “When you
talk to your superiors, could you ask them to please do something
about these attacks. They’re not fun anymore. Or perhaps
your government is enjoying this?”
“Tom! That’s
enough!” Favor snapped.
Johnson rolled
his eyes. “Oh, I apologize. Do have a good afternoon, please.
Don’t mind the damage control teams in the corridors. Good
bye.”
The diplomats
gathered their papers and PADDs and filed out of the ready room,
Favor hurrying after them to talk to them, leaving Johnson and
Ironsides alone. The captain set his PADD aside. He gestured for
the major to be seated. The two sat for several moments in silence
as Johnson finished reading a PADD.
In the turbolift,
Favor couldn’t stop apologizing. “I don’t know
what’s wrong with the captain. I’m sure he’s under
a tremendous amount of stress.”
“Nevertheless,
that does not give him the right to speak to us that way,”
Selenta frowned angrily.
“You have
to look at it from his point of view.”
“I have already
done that!” Selenta retorted. “Still I wouldn’t
go beyond the bounds of good manners like he did!”
Favor looked at
Selari with a pleading look. She could only shrug back. “I
have to side with Selenta on this. Your captain was very rude
and discourteous to us.”
“Could you
at least leave that out of your report? I mean we’re very
nearly at Romulus. This whole thing will be for nothing if everything
falls apart now,” Favor sighed. “The whole Borderlands
mission might be scrapped, not to mention our alliance. That’ll
hurt the Federation and in the long run, the Romulan Star Empire.
You can’t let that happen over his lousy mood today!”
Selenta closed
her eyes and sighed. At length, she replied. “I know. I wasn’t
intending to inform my superiors of the captain’s attitude.
I know that the Borderlands mission is important to your people
and my people. I want you to succeed.” She shifted her posture
and pointed a finger at Favor. “But let me make myself clear.
I will not tolerate this again.”
“And you
shouldn’t have to,” Favor shook his head. “And
you will not. I’ll speak to the captain later.”
“Good,”
Selenta grunted.
The turbolift
doors opened, and the Romulans left. Selari turned to look at
Favor. “Nathan, I hope your friend feels better soon.”
With a disgusted
grunt, the captain tossed the PADD down. He looked up at Ironsides.
“What does Engineering have to report?”
“Basically,
they have nothing new to report from the last time. The shields
and phasers have been put on a modulation rotation, so the enemy
can’t use that information against us. The Freedom
is nearly up to 75% operating speed. The Courageous is
at 87% operating capacity.”
“I’d
prefer to be at 95% operating capacity,” Johnson said.
“I know,”
Ironsides nodded. “The Engineering department is doing all
they can. It’s been very difficult recuperating from each
attack. They’ve become more damaging each time, with less
recovery time in between.”
“You don’t
need to apologize for that, Major,” Johnson waved his hand.
“Any other progress?”
“No, sir,
not really. I did notice something that I think bears looking
into.”
Johnson looked
at Ironsides for a moment. When the Major didn’t explain,
Johnson rolled his eyes. “Well, out with it.”
“When Fonda
showed me the sensor readings we got off the enemy during the
latest attacks. Something looked familiar to me, but I couldn’t
place a finger on it. It’s been nagging me since I left Engineering.
Now, coming in here and seeing the Romulans just now- I’ve
got it,” Ironsides put down a fist on Johnson’s desk.
“Yes?”
“As you know,
I’ve done many covert missions in my career...in many different
locations. Some of them were within Romulan territory. I’m
thinking of one mission in particular. I broke into a secret Romulan
Research and Development base on Pharos.”
Johnson rubbed
his chin. “Yes, I remember that in your file. You blew that
base up, didn’t you?”
“Yes I did,
but not before downloading as much as I could from their computer
databanks. I’d like permission to look into those files to
see if I can find a match on the tech we’re seeing now.”
“Good idea.
Perhaps you should bring in Fonda too. She’ll know what to
look for,” Johnson suggested.
“I don’t
think she has the security clearance,” Ironsides said.
“I’ll
grant her temporary clearance. It’s an emergency after all.
Get on it as soon as you can.”
“It’ll
take a while to get in touch with Starfleet Intelligence’s
archives.”
“I know,
the sooner you get going, the sooner we may have an edge,”
Johnson declared.
The ready room
door chimed. Johnson looked up at the door. “Come in,”
the captain called out. Hartman walked in.
Johnson looked
at Raven, standing over Garak. “How long has he been in?”
Hartman glanced
at a nearby monitor. “Nearly twenty minutes.”
“How much
longer?”
Hartman shrugged.
“I couldn’t say.”
“Well, I
have the Romulans confined to their quarters,” Johnson remarked.
“You couldn’t determine if any of them were telepathic?”
“No. It might
be that they’re so skilled at blocking their abilities, or
it’s not even the three of them.”
Johnson shook
his head, frowning. I certainly hope it’s the Romulans. I
can’t conceive one of my own crewmen betraying me.”
Hartman sighed.
“In any case, hopefully, Raven will learn more about who
it might be.”
“Well, it
doesn’t seem like there’s anything I can do here,”
Johnson commented. He looked at Hartman. “Let me know as
soon as the situation changes. I’m returning to the bridge.”
“Okay, Tom.
We’ll keep a close watch on them.”
Johnson took one
last glance at his mentor, locked into Garak’s mind, and
mentally thought, “Good luck, Raven.” Then he
headed back to the bridge.
Chapter Seven
“Good God,
would you look at all that...,” Fonda whistled. She looked
at the computer monitor intently, along with Ironsides. The two
officers sat at one of the distant auxiliary stations on the bridge.
The monitor showed technical photos, plans and schematics, along
with scrolling text.
Fonda whistled
again. “I’d love to sit down and have a good long read
with these files... these Romulans sure do know how to come up
with ideas.”
Ironsides regarded
the engineer’s enthusiasm. It was very rare for Fonda to
display her emotions so openly. “Sorry, Chief. Your ticket’s
only good for one time. Now, are you sure you know what you need
to look for?”
“Like I told
you before, Joh and I have a fairly rough idea of what kind of
keywords to look for. But ultimately, we’re just guessing
here.” Fonda said. “Computer, search text for references
to Doppler invertence waves.”
“421 references
found,” the computer replied.
Fonda looked at
Ironsides. “Okay, we’re off to a good start.” Turning
his attention back to the monitor, Fonda asked, “Computer,
cross-index with any references to tetryon shielding.”
“154 references
available.”
“Cross-index
with references to hyper-spatial sensors.”
“67 references
available.”
“Show summaries,”
Fonda commanded.
The monitor rapidly
scrolled text across the screen. Fonda tapped on the console to
begin looking over the data the computer presented.
One of the turbolift
doors opened, and Ironsides glanced to see Johnson walk out. The
captain spied them and walked towards them.
“How goes
it, Major?” Johnson asked.
“We’ve
just begun,” Ironsides replied. “This data is ten years
old, and we’re not sure exactly where to begin. The chief
says that the best we can hope for is to find some reference to
a component to the deflector equipment. Or perhaps a theoretical
paper.”
“I see,”
Johnson mused. He shrugged. “Well, it’s not as if we
could get the entire plans for their sensor deflectors.”
“Bingo!”
Fonda shouted. “I’ve got the plans for the sensor deflectors!”
“What?”
both Ironsides and Johnson asked simultaneously.
“I’ve
got ‘em,” Fonda looked up to the captain happily. “The
technical schematics, the installation plans, everything.”
“Looks like
you two have struck gold,” Johnson smiled. “This could
be just the edge we need. I’ve been tired of always being
one step behind everyone else. Hopefully, we’ll be one step
ahead of everyone else now. Chief, can you figure out a way to
detect ships using sensor deflectors?”
Fonda sighed.
“Well, this information is still ten years old... they may
have made modifications to their deflectors since then... but
I believe so. We have new readings to compare with now.”
“Good. Get
back to Engineering. Get as many men as you can on it. I want
my edge now.”
“Aye, sir,”
Fonda nodded standing up.
“Get going!”
Johnson smiled grimly. Fonda rushed off to the turbolift. Ironsides
tapped on the computer monitor, closing the files. Johnson turned
back to him.
“Good catch,
Max,” he said.
“Just doing
my best for the ship,” Ironsides replied.
“All in all,
everything is going along smoothly,” Kyle concluded as she
watched Johnson on the Freedom’s viewscreen.
The captain nodded.
“That’s good. I’m glad to hear that.”
“The crew
is working smoothly, although I do sense some sadness about the
loss of Captain Bombay. But they’re doing their job well.”
“As they
should,” Johnson replied. “On a different subject, how
do you feel about the Freedom’s battle readiness?”
“We can take
it,” Kyle nodded.
“Good. We
might be getting into some scraps soon. Right now, Engineering
is working on modifying our sensors so we can find these mysterious
blackbirds that are using sensor deflectors. We’ll keep you
informed so you can make changes.”
“Okay.”
“Courageous
out,” Johnson ended. The viewscreen changed back to a
view of the Courageous’s majestic saucer section.
Commander Ryan
looked over at Kyle. “Do you think the captain is right?
That we’ll be going into combat soon?”
“If Captain
Johnson expects it, then we should.”
Ryan looked at
Kyle. “You should check with Engineering to be sure phasers
are fully charged.”
“Will do,
Captain.” Kyle thumbed open her seat’s monitor and started
checking on the Freedom’s battle readiness.
“Phaser banks
are fully charged. Torpedo room one is still offline, but Torpedo
room two is online and in standby status,” Kyle reported.
“Good. Any
chance of Torpedo room one being brought back online anytime soon?”
Ryan asked.
“Not until
the ship puts in at a Starbase for repairs,” Kyle said. “That’s
what your Engineering chief said.”
“That’s
allright. Just wishful thinking, that’s all,” Ryan smiled.
He sighed and slumped in his seat, the captain’s chair.
“What’s
wrong?” Kyle asked.
Ryan put a hand
to his forehead, rubbing his brow. He turned to look at Kyle.
“I guess I’m just tired. I always thought I was ready
to be captain if needed, and now that I am... I’m finding
otherwise.”
“Well, you
seem to be doing a very good job at it,” Kyle said.
“Yeah, but
I don’t feel like I’m doing a good enough job.”
Kyle looked Ryan.
“Maybe you should stop comparing yourself to Captain Bombay.”
“Easier said
than done. Still, I’d rather he was here, not me.”
“We’ll
be fine,” Kyle assured Ryan.
He looked at the
viewscreen, at the Courageous.
“At least
we get to follow the lead of the great Captain Johnson,”
Ryan commented.
Ruiz looked over
at LeAnn next to her on the Courageous’s bridge. The
ensign was dutifully checking her consoles. Ruiz hissed softly
to attract LeAnn’s attention.
LeAnn looked over.
“What?” she whispered, fearful of Johnson catching the
two of them talking.
“What happened
with the citation?” Ruiz asked.
“I dunno.
It was weird. I checked my record and the citation had been withdrawn.
No record of it ever being there,” LeAnn replied.
“Huh. Maybe
the captain changed his mind and took it back.”
“Yeah. I’m
glad I didn’t have to ask him. I was a wreck rehearsing my
request,” LeAnn shook her head.
“You rehearsed
it?” Ruiz asked.
“Yeah, I
practiced what I would say in front of my mirror. I had to get
it just right. I mean, would you want to mess up in front of the
captain?”
“Walker,
take it from me,” Ruiz smiled, “the captain is no stranger
to messing things up himself. He’s just another mortal like
us. He’d understand.”
“Easy for
you to say. I’m just an ensign. You’re a lieutenant,
with loads more experience than me.” LeAnn sighed. She glanced
at Ruiz. “Are we still gonna have dinner at your place tonight?”
“Sure, if
you like.”
“Okay.”
“Ensign,”
Johnson called out from his command seat.
“Yes sir!”
LeAnn snapped to attention.
“Are you
prepared for evasive action?” Johnson asked.
“Yes sir.
I have them cued up in the computer. If something happens, we’ll
be able to react right away.”
“Good. Keep
up the good work, ensign,” the captain replied.
The aft turbolift
doors opened and Chief Fonda walked out, heading straight to the
engineering section on the row of computer stations that lined
the bridge’s rear. “Bridge to Doctor Joh,” she
spoke into her combadge.
“Joh here.”
“Send a feed
up to the bridge now,” Fonda ordered. She promptly sat down
on the stool at the engineering station.
Johnson decided
that Fonda wasn’t about to be forthcoming, so he got up and
walked around to Fonda. “I assume you’re working on
the sensor modifications?”
“Yes, sir.
I think we’ve got it now.” She looked over to the tactical
officer there. “Lieutenant...uh...Thornton, is it? Please
disengage from the sensors.”
The young man,
Bogarde’s shift replacement, nodded and keyed in the commands.
Fonda turned back to the engineering station, busily working.
“Mind telling
me what you’re doing to my ship?” Johnson asked.
“Your ship?
It’s my ship too,” Fonda replied. She allowed herself
a small smirk.
“I’m
not in the mood for our daily semantics game,” Johnson sighed.
“Yes, sir,”
Fonda relented. “Joh is feeding me the new set of program
parameters from Engineering. I’m then feeding it to the sensors,
creating a new sensor program set. The new parameters should have
sensors looking for anomalies that theoretically would be ships
utilizing the sensor deflector shielding.”
“Theoretically?”
Johnson asked.
“Best I can
do right now.”
“Well, if
it’s your best, I’ll take that anytime.”
“Thank you,
sir.” The computer station beeped at Fonda. She turned to
look at the lieutenant. “Lieutenant Thornton, you may restart
sensors now.”
“Aye, sir,”
Thornton nodded. He stepped back to the tactical console. All
of a sudden, the computer console started flashing wildly.
Johnson rushed
up to Thornton’s side. “What is that?”
“I don’t
know, sir! Sensors are showing a bogey 80 kilometers off port!
It just popped up! It seems to be on the same course as us.”
“Fonda?”
Johnson turned to the engineer.
“Sensor parameters
are all set. I don’t think this is a bug. I think we’ve
just had a successful test.”
“Thornton,
can you tell me how big this bogey is?”
“Hard to
tell, the size keeps fluctuating. Could be a medium sized cruiser.”
“Romulan?”
Johnson asked, as he walked back to his command seat.
“Could be,
sir.”
“Same type
as the ships that have been attacking us?”
“Could be,
sir,” Thornton replied.
“Good enough
for me,” Johnson nodded. “Lieutenant Ruiz, alter course
just a bit. Let’s see if it really is following us.”
“Aye, sir,”
Ruiz replied.
Johnson looked
back at Thornton. “Well?”
“The bogey
altered course a few seconds after we did. It’s closing in
back to 80 kilometers.” The lieutenant looked up. “It’s
definitely shadowing us.”
“Good, let’s
not let it become aware we know it’s there. Any other blips
out there?”
Thornton checked
his sensors. “No, sir, none in our sensor range. Just the
one.”
“I see. I
have an idea. Hail the Freedom.”
The comm system
chimed. “Hartman to Bridge.”
Johnson sighed
and turned to glance at Thornton. “Wait a second.” The
lieutenant nodded his understanding. Then the captain replied
to the chime. “Johnson here.”
“We’re
having a problem here,” Hartman said.
“What is
it?” Johnson asked.
“We’ve
been getting erratic readings from Garak and Raven,” Hartman
stated.
“I see,”
Johnson murmured, as he walked down the corridor. “Are either
one in danger?”
“Hard to
say with this kind of situation. Raven and Garak have been experiencing
some convulsions. They might be having seizures. Garak’s
lifesigns have been dropping slowly but steadily for the last
ten minutes, while his brain waves have been rapidly becoming
erratic.”
“Can you
pull Raven out?” Johnson frowned.
“I might
be able to, but I don’t know what the damage might be to
Garak.”
“What would
happen if we let Raven continue his telepathic probe?” Johnson
asked.
“At this
rate, Garak’s lifesigns will red-line in less than fifteen
minutes.” Hartman replied, looking at Dr. Michelanos. “So
what do you want me to do?”
“The convulsions
are getting more violent,” Michelanos called out. He administered
a hypospray to Raven’s neck, and Raven’s trembling subsided.
Hartman waited
on Johnson’s reply. He had no idea what was going on up on
the bridge. He added, “The convulsions have been worsening.”
“What’s
your advice?” Johnson’s voice asked.
“I’d
recommend pulling Raven out.”
“But then
he might not know who the spy is,” Johnson countered.
A warning alarm
went off over Garak’s biobed. Michelanos shouted out, “He’s
going into cardiac arrest!”
“Prep a hypo
of corazadine, 20 cc!” Hartman shouted. He called out to
the comm system. “Forget fifteen minutes, Garak will die
in a matter of seconds, and maybe Raven will too!”
“I have full
confidence in Raven’s skills. He would pull out if he was
threatened. He wouldn’t pull out until he learned what he
seeks.”
“At the cost
of Garak’s life?” Hartman shouted worriedly as he glanced
over Garak’s vital signs.
The comm system
remained silent for several heartbeats. Michelanos looked at Hartman,
amazed. “The captain is actually pondering on that?!”
he said.
“Doctor,”
Johnson’s voice returned. “If it’s absolutely necessary,
with no other recourse, pull Raven out now. Bridge out.”
“That’s
it,” Hartman said. “Computer, stimulate Raven’s
temporal lobes. Low intensity pulses.”
The small devices
attached to Raven’s temples started blinking rapidly, sending
electrical impulses to disrupt Raven’s telepathic waves.
Hopefully Raven would realize it and drop the scan.
Michelanos was
already busy pumping Garak’s scaly throat full of cardiac
stabilizers. Hartman held his breath, alternating between watching
Raven’s face and Garak’s biosign console. Raven’s
eyes fluttered open, and he woozily stepped back from Garak’s
biobed.
“Garak’s
stable now,” Hartman told Michelanos, who went to catch Raven
before he fell to the deck. Hartman left the console and helped
Michelanos escort Raven to a biobed.
“Why...why
did you pull me out?” Raven asked groggily.
“Garak was
going into cardiac arrest. His synapses were firing all over the
place.”
“I...I almost
had...it,” Raven sighed. “It was just on the edge of
my perception...the identity. The other telepath. I...too buried.
I’m tired. I need to rest.”
“That would
be a very good idea,” Hartman nodded. “Go on and get
some sleep.”
A soft moan behind
him made Hartman turn to look at Garak. The Cardassian was slowly
struggling to sit up. Hartman glanced at Michelanos. “You
watch over him, I’ll see to Garak.”
“Allright,
Doctor,” Michelanos replied.
Hartman walked
back to Garak’s biobed. The Cardassian’s eyes were slowly
opening. He blinked against the glare of the overhead lights.
“What...where am I?”
“You’re
in Sickbay. Do you know what your name is?” Hartman asked.
“Uh, yes
Doctor. My name... is Elim Garak,” he replied. He looked
at Hartman. “Doctor? Doctor Bashir?”
“No. I’m
Doctor Hartman.”
Garak frowned
at Hartman, and squinted. “Ah yes. Yes. Doctor Hartman. On
the Courageous. I apologize. My faculties have cleared
up now. I’m aware of myself and where I am.”
Hartman smiled.
“Good. Welcome back to the land of the living.”
“It’s
nice to be back, though you aren’t as handsome as Doctor
Bashir.”
Hartman gave Garak
a mock frown. “I had always fancied myself better looking,
but I won’t argue with you.”
“Good...because
I’m too tired...” Garak slowly laid back down, and closed
his eyes. Hartman glanced to his lifesigns.
Michelanos walked
up to Hartman’s side, giving him a questioning glance.
Hartman shook
his head and smiled. “He’s only sleeping.” The
Chief Medical Officer sighed. “Looks like everything worked
out here. Let’s hope the same for the bridge.”
“I have the
Freedom on the screen now,” Thornton declared.
Ryan looked up
at Johnson. “What is it, sir?”
“I just wanted
to report that the sensor reprogramming was completely unsuccessful,”
Johnson said. “We just tested it out. Fonda’s got to
go back to the drawing board now. A complete and utter failure.”
“I see, sir.
That’s a shame,” Ryan replied.
Johnson narrowed
his eyes. “What’s that?”
“What’s
what?” Ryan asked.
“That...looks
like a shadow on the bridge.”
“A shadow?”
Ryan looked around himself. “The bridge’s illumination
settings are normal.”
“It’s
still there. Looks like it’s following you exactly around.
See, it’s off your port side, the shadow.”
“Ah. I think
I see it now. I’ll adjust the lighting.”
“Good. Now
let’s all put a stop to this shadow talk. How’s
your structural integrity field?”
“It’s
fine now. All repaired.”
Johnson stroked
his chin. “Good. How is everything on the Freedom?
Is everyone following your lead just like they’re following
my lead?”
“Yes, sir,”
Ryan nodded. “They’re right behind me, just like I’m
right behind you.”
“Good...good.
Well, Courageous out.” Johnson ended the conversation.
He turned to Fonda. “Increase power to the dampers and SIF.
Helm, prepare to drop out of warp and go to all stop.”
He turned to Ironsides
at OPS. “Is the Freedom preparing the same thing?”
“I’m
reading a build up in energy in their inertial dampers and structural
integrity field. I guess the acting captain got your message,”
Ironsides replied.
Johnson gritted
his teeth. “Tactical, target the bogey. Put it on the screen.”
The viewscreen
showed an overlay of the Courageous, the Freedom
and the shielded bogey. Johnson continued his orders. “Helm,
as soon as it overshoots us, get back in warp and follow it. Tactical,
fire quantum torpedoes at it. Try to disable its engines.”
“Aye, sir,”
both Helm and Tactical replied.
Johnson drew in
a deep breath. “Emergency all stop!”
“Ent’sei,
the Courageous just went to all stop! The Freedom
just dropped out of warp too!” The black suited Romulan officer
turned to face the commander of the spy ship.
Ent’sei leaned
forward in her chair, frowning at this sudden turn of events.
“Quick! Change course! Drop our cloak and put shields up!”
The sub-commander
said, “But they’ll see us!”
“You fool!
They have already seen us! We’ve just overshot them, and
now they’re going to follow us!”
A glance at sensor
told the officer that Ent’sei was correct. Hurriedly, the
officer set to shoring up the ship’s shields.
“Evasive
action!” Ent’sei shouted to the navigator. The whole
ship shuddered.
“The Courageous
is firing on us!” the sub-commander shouted out.
“Of course
they are!” Ent’sei spat out. “Return fire!”
“Their shields
are holding,” the sub-commander reported. Suddenly sparks
flew out from behind him as the ship shook from more weapons fire.
Ent’sei struggled to remain seated. A computer console exploded,
killing the centurion seated there, and spattering Ent’sei
with green blood. She wiped it off her cheek, frowning.
“The Freedom
now is firing on us! We can’t hold up much longer!”
“Retreat!
Retreat back to Base Two! Best possible speed!” Ent’sei
shouted.
More sparks flew
out around the bridge, and the lighting flickered. The sub-commander
struggled to remain standing at his console. “Shields are
down! Engineering is working to get them back up now! If they
hit us now, we’re done for!”
Ent’sei closed
her eyes. Better to die in a blaze of glory than to live in
the shadows, she thought. The whole ship shook hard, and a
bright flash of light passed over Ent’sei’s eyes.
Ent’sei blinked
to clear her vision and saw she wasn’t on the cruiser anymore.
She and the remaining surviving bridge crew were on a large Federation
transporter platform. All around the platform were Starfleet Marines
in combat gear, aiming phaser rifles at them.
The doors to the
transporter room opened to reveal her enemy walking in- Captain
Johnson. He was joined by Major Ironsides, if memory served her.
The human stepped
up to the platform, and crossed his arms, smirking. She so wanted
to leap at his throat and wipe that insufferable grin off his
face. “Well, well, what have we here?” Johnson said.
“Welcome to the U.S.S. Courageous, Sela.”
SECTION ONE | SECTION
TWO | SECTION THREE | SECTION
FOUR
|
