Part 6 (2/2)
”So do I. I don't think the Romulans, the Klingons, the Breen, whoever are launching an invasion. The major Alpha Quadrant powers are too weak right now... but others? Those who might take advantage of our collective weakness, perhaps? I don't know.”
”I came here because I know what a threat these dead zones are. I respectfully request permission that the Enterprise be a.s.signed.”
Tucker waved off the request. ”I appreciate that, Captain, but no, I need Enterprise in the Romulan Neutral Zone. Covertly.”
”Covertly?” Picard's brow furrowed. ”Things have broken down between the Federation and the Romulans that quickly.” It wasn't a question.
”With all the s.h.i.+ps being lost, only Amba.s.sador Worf and Chancellor Martok are keeping the Klingons with us right now. We've managed to get through to Worf on T al, and we've got envoys en route to all the other major governments. But without subs.p.a.ce radio, a message only travels as fast as the s.h.i.+p that carries it.”
It all sounded very ominous, Picard thought. ”Why do you need Enterprise in the Neutral Zone?”
”It's not a why,” Tucker said as he keyed into his padd again. This time the holograph became a person, not a star map ”It's a who.”
Picard's muscles tensed and his own breath felt heavy. ”Spock.”
Chapter 11.
Planetary Defense Station Merterbis Colony Romulan Empire Five days ago ”You told me an hour ago you'd have that circuit replaced, didn't you? Is my faith in you misplaced?” Folan was snapping at her a.s.sistant, and she wished she could take the edge from her tone, but she couldn't. She tried to remind herself it wasn't as if her mere demand could change the speed at which physics insisted a task be finished. Her people were good, and she knew better. Then again, so did her team. They probably knew the tension in Folan's voice was only a fraction of that which stiffened her shoulders and neck. The most important moment of her life, and T'sart would be on hand to see it. Who was she kidding? He was not here just to watch, but to critique her every move. Once a teacher, always a teacher. And she, always the student.
At least T'sart had some level of admiration for her abilities. Her commander, J'emery, did not. He'd taken the accolades for saving his s.h.i.+p from a power desert when so many others had been lost. As if it was his accomplishment and not hers. She'd saved the lives of the crew, a crew from which only she had risked her life and career to stop their idiot commander from killing them all. Only Picard had seemed to sense that Folan had made some special effort, and reading an alien was difficult, so her notion could be quite wrong. For all she knew, he merely had eaten a lunch that disagreed with him that day.
She needed to focus, she reminded herself. It was not good to let her mind spin about on such things she could not change. If only she didn't feel so rushed ... T'sart himself had moved up the timeline for her tests, claiming that if this worked they might have at least some defense against any attack force. Attack forces were all the Senate was talking about, with the subs.p.a.ce communication problems and the lost vessels. Her people were suspicious by nature, but Folan was usually not. The tense times, however... She chastised herself for thinking the worst. She was a scientist. She was not supposed to fear that which she didn't understand. She was supposed to do what she must to understand it.
A brown slice of hair fell from behind her ear and, frustrated, she pushed it back in place. T'sart was looking at her, she could tell. Those cool eyes on her from behind the monitoring station he'd wandered to. It was Folan he monitored, not the experiment.
”It goes well,” she told him across the console room. She knew there were other people about, but she saw only T'sart. Only he was important to her right now.
He smiled that thin smile that she'd never been quite able to read. ”All things seem in order,” he said. Folan made her way toward him, checking the computer monitors at other stations as she went. She despised someone looking over her shoulder as she worked, but couldn't resist doing it to others. Especially in this case.
She'd risked her reputation on this idea. Scientists were not always given high esteem in the Senate, and while they had their voice there, it was often not heard.
But the concept was elegant, she thought, and thanks to T'sart's support among his Senate allies, she'd pushed it through.
All scientists had plans and ideas, ”notions and potions,” as T'sart would sometimes say. Folan was no different. Yet rarely did she have an idea she considered graceful, one that seemed like some marble construction in her head, whereas other concepts were but stacks of neatly arranged but unsightly twigs in comparison.
And if it worked, if a large planetary power plant could provide energy to an orbiting s.h.i.+p defending the planet directly and without a prohibitive power loss ... Folan would have her start on a reputation that could rival T'sart's.
Folan was as tall as her teacher, but she'd always looked up to him, and still, when she came close to him, she felt as if she were glancing up at an angle.
”I believe we are ready to start,” she said, hoping her nervousness did not reverberate through her voice. ”Would you like to join me at the main sensor console?”
T'sart nodded pleasantly. ”Of course. I'm a bit surprised we're not monitoring this from your vessel. Any problems won't be from the power plant sending the power, but on the vessels in orbit that are attempting to receive it.”
”Well... I've not cleared that with Commander J'emery, and he's in meetings with the colony governor. He specifically asked not to be disturbed.”
With a smile that could power its own stars.h.i.+p, T'sart leaned down and whispered. ”Your commander is in conference with a local prost.i.tute. He's right here, on this installation, in a room specially prepared for his indiscretion. Most of your s.h.i.+p's senior officers are partaking of similar indulgences. If you were truly more than a p.a.w.n in life, not only would you be aware of this, you'd make sure you had a holographic recording of it. One prospers in life by seizing control of destiny and commanding it. Opportunity will not court with the truly gifted-we must rape it.”
”I-” Folan froze for a moment. Was it a joke? Was she to laugh? Had he lost his mind? Why would he say such a thing, even in a hushed tone, where people could hear or his voice could itself be recorded?
”In any case, your commander did say not to disturb him. But this is your project, and your experiment.
Surely you can make this decision on your own.” T'sart continued that odd smile, friendly and yet mirthless.
”Yes,” Folan said slowly, hesitant to disagree with him, if only because she wouldn't be able to guess his next reaction. ”I suppose I can.”
U.S.5. Enterprise, NCC 1701E Romulan Neutral Zone Section 74 Picard paced, and he didn't indulge in that often. He was on his stars.h.i.+p, in his ready room, perhaps the only place he truly felt completely comfortable, and yet... this was not where he wanted to be.
”Captain?”
He'd not spoken to Deanna Troi much since she'd entered. She'd respected his silence until now.
”Please don't tell me what I'm feeling,” he said finally, deciding to stop and peer out the window.
”You know me better than that,” she said. ”As an empath I dropped the ”I know how you feel' line a long time ago. I'm here because you invited me in to talk. So, with all due respect, Captain, talk.”
Turning toward her, the slightest of smiles tugging up his frown, he nodded and sighed quietly. ”I'm frustrated. I walk in to speak with the admiralty to demand one a.s.signment, and I limp out with another.”
”They're putting a lot of resources on it now, and notifying all-”
”Maybe too little, too late. There's something more to these dead zones than even Starfleet is admitting.”
”To you?”
”To themselves.”
”How is that?”
He paused, standing silent a moment, trying to find an apt description. ”That's just it, I'm not sure. I don't normally feel like disobeying direct orders based on a gut feeling.”
”You're disobeying orders-”
”I feel like it. But, no, I'm here. Treading through the Romulan Neutral Zone without permission-when by all rights we should be able to get that permission.”
”I'd heard the Romulans pulled their amba.s.sadors from the Council.”
Picard nodded. ”Yes, and haven't been seen since. They're presumed lost by the Federation. Who knows what the Romulans are a.s.suming? Subs.p.a.ce communications are working with less and less frequency and reliability. None of the major governments can talk with any alacrity. The war's been over less than three months, and already the peace is falling apart.”
Deanna sat silently a moment. ”Do you really think this message Starfleet received was from Spock?”
”If it was, I agree we need to be where he requested we be. If it's not, then I suppose we need to find out what has happened to him. a.s.suming the worst, whoever used Spock's Starfleet codes would have needed to get them from Spock.” Picard paused. He heard his voice soften. ”If that's the case ... it's not good.”
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