Part 2 (1/2)

3.

”Hail them again, Commander,” Captain Picard said to Miranda Kadohata, the Enterprise's third-in-command and senior operations officer.

Her lean, attractive Eurasian countenance hardened with frustration as she worked at her console. ”Still no response, sir,” she said, her accent redolent of a Londoner's inflections.

Medical and security personnel worked with quiet efficiency around and behind Picard, clearing away the evidence of the s.h.i.+p's recent pitched battle with Hirogen boarders, two of whom lay dead in the middle of the Enterprise's bridge. A thin haze of smoke still lingered along the overhead, and its sharp odor masked the stench of spilled blood on the deck.

On the main viewer, framed by streaks of warp-distorted starlight, was the Vesta-cla.s.s explorer vessel U.S.S. Aventine. Under the command of Captain Ezri Dax, it was racing at its best possible warp speed toward Earth. They were in futile pursuit of a Borg armada that had, only hours earlier, slipped through a previously unknown-and since collapsed-subs.p.a.ce pa.s.sage from the Delta Quadrant. Picard feared that at any moment Captain Dax's crew would activate their s.h.i.+p's prototype quantum slipstream drive and rush headlong into a suicidal confrontation.

Lieutenant Jasminder Choudhury, the Enterprise's chief of security, directed four medical technicians entering from the main turbolift to the Hirogen's corpses. ”Get those into stasis,” she said. ”We'll want them for a.n.a.lysis later.”

”Aye, sir,” said one of the technicians, and the quartet set to work bagging the enormous armored bodies.

While they worked, another turbolift arrived at the bridge, and four engineers stepped out. They carried tight, tubular bundles that unrolled to reveal long sheets covered with tools tucked into fabric loops and magnetically sealed pockets. In moments, the engineers all were at work, repairing ruptured duty consoles and bulkhead-mounted companels.

Commander Worf finished a hushed conference with junior tactical officer Ensign Aneta mrhova and returned to the command chairs to take his seat next to Picard's. Speaking at a discreet volume, he said, ”Sensor reports confirmed, Captain. There are more than seven thousand Borg cubes deployed into Federation, Klingon, and Romulan territory. Several targets have already been engaged.”

”Thank you, Number One,” Picard said, though he was anything but grateful for the update. He raised his voice and asked the flight controller, ”Mister Weinrib, time to intercept?”

”Actually, sir, the Aventine's lead is increasing,” Weinrib said. ”They're now point-eight-five past our top rated speed.”

Picard admired the sleek lines of the Aventine as it slipped farther away from the Enterprise. He was almost ready to abandon hope of reasoning with Dax when Kadohata swiveled her chair around from ops to report, ”Aventine is responding, sir.”

”On-screen,” Picard said.

Captain Dax's face appeared on the main viewer. ”Changed your mind about joining us, Captain?”

”Far from it,” Picard said, rising from his chair and walking forward. ”I urge you to reconsider this rash action.”

The young, dark-haired Trill woman seethed. ”The Federation's under attack,” she said. ”We have to defend it.”

”We will,” Picard said. ”But not like this. Sacrificing your s.h.i.+p and your crew in this manner serves no purpose. Going into battle against great odds can be brave or n.o.ble-but going into battle without a plan is worse than futile, it's wasteful.”

She heaved an angry sigh, and he sensed her frustration, her desire to do anything other than stand and wait. ”So, what do you propose we do?”

”We'll contact Starfleet Command and request new orders,” he said. ”They may not even be aware that our s.h.i.+ps are still in service after the loss of the expeditionary force.”

A smirk tugged at one corner of Dax's mouth. ”Contact Starfleet Command? No offense, Captain, but that's not exactly the answer I expected, given your reputation.”

”I'll admit that when my orders have contradicted common sense, morality, or the law, I have followed my conscience,” Picard said. ”But at the moment, Captain, we haven't any orders at all-and I think we at least ought to see if Starfleet knows where it needs us before we commit ourselves to a potentially fatal course.”

Dax relaxed her shoulders. ”I suppose it can't hurt to ask,” she said.

”Then might I suggest we drop out of warp?” Picard said. ”At least until such time as we know where we ought to go?”

She narrowed her gaze for a moment, and then she nodded to someone off-screen. ”We're returning to impulse,” she said. ”Can you patch me in when you're ready to talk to Starfleet?”

”Of course,” Picard said. ”Enterprise out.” The screen switched back to the exterior view of the receding Aventine.

Picard nodded to Worf, who said to Weinrib, ”Match their speed and heading.” The conn officer nodded his confirmation.

On the viewscreen, the streaks of light shrank back to gleaming points as the Aventine and the Enterprise returned to normal maneuvering speeds.

Another guarded victory for common sense, Picard mused. ”Commander Kadohata, raise Starfleet Command on any secure channel, priority one.”

”Aye, sir,” Kadohata replied.

He turned toward his ready room. ”I'll take it in my-” He stopped in midstep and midsentence as he saw the burned and smoke-scarred interior of his office, which had been set ablaze during the a.s.sault by the Hirogen hunting pack. Picard frowned. The sight of his flame-scoured sanctum resurrected unpleasant memories he'd hoped were long buried.

Time is the fire in which we burn.

Looking back at Kadohata, he said, ”I'll take it in the observation lounge, Commander.” He walked to the aft starboard portal as he added, ”Commander Worf, you have the bridge.”

4.

”Battle stations!” roared Captain Krogan. The bridge lights snapped to full brightness as the I.K.S. veScharg'a dropped to impulse one million qelI'qams from the Klingon world Morska. Following close behind the veScharg'a was its battle partner, the Qang-cla.s.s heavy cruiser Sturka.

A firestorm of disruptor blasts raged up from the planet's surface and hammered the two Borg cubes in orbit. The impacts seemed to have no effect on the cubes except to silhouette them and give them blinding crimson halos. Then the Borg returned fire and wrought blazing emerald scars across the planet's surface.

Krogan's first officer, Falgar, bellowed, ”Raise s.h.i.+elds! Arm weapons! Helm, set attack pattern ya'DIchqa.”

”Ten seconds to Borg firing range,” answered the helmsman.

”All reserve power to s.h.i.+elds,” Falgar ordered.

Time to find out if Starfleet's secret torpedoes work for us, Krogan brooded, watching the Borg cubes grow larger on his viewscreen. His foes would have several seconds of advantage over his Vor'cha-cla.s.s attack cruiser, whose effective firing range was a few hundred thousand qelI'qams shorter than that of the Borg cubes. The veScharg'a's goal was to survive the Borg's initial barrage and get close enough to target the cubes with the transphasic torpedo, which Admiral Jellico of Starfleet had just ordered to be distributed to s.h.i.+ps of the Klingon Defense Force.

”The Borg are firing,” Falgar said, sounding perfectly calm. Then explosions shook the battle cruiser with the ferocity of Fek'lhr himself. The bright battle lights flickered. Fire and sparks erupted from aft duty stations, and the stink of burnt hair a.s.saulted Krogan's nostrils.

Qonqar, the tactical officer, shouted over the clamor, ”Weapons locked!”

Krogan slammed a fist on the arm of his chair as he pointed at the Borg cubes on the screen. ”Fire!”

A trio of blue bolts shot forth, spiraling erratically through the Borg's defensive batteries. As they closed on target, Falgar called out, ”Helm! Break to starboard! Qonqar, all power to port s.h.i.+elds!”

More blasts shook the veScharg'a. Krogan grinned as he watched the viewer and saw the aft-angle view of the torpedoes. .h.i.tting home and blasting one Borg cube to pieces in a sapphire flash. As the blue fire cloud dissipated into the vacuum of s.p.a.ce, another cerulean blast filled the starscape behind it, as the second Borg cube was annihilated.

The bridge officers cheered and roared at their victory. Krogan permitted himself a satisfied smirk and a nod of his head. It is a good day to die...for my enemies.