Star Trek: The Next Generation - 119 - Armageddon's Arrow Page 4

  “Conn, adjust our course and speed for intercept,” Picard ordered.

  Seated at the flight controller’s station, Ensign Allison Scagliotti replied, “Aye, sir.”

  “Sir,” Šmrhová said, “we’ve collected enough data to put together a preliminary tactical view.”

  “On-screen.”

  In response to Picard’s order, the viewscreen changed to a computer-generated representation of the unidentified vessel, now depicted as a wire-frame model, which began a horizontal clockwise rotation. Once the technical diagram had completed a full circle, it lifted so that Picard now saw what he presumed to be a dorsal view of the craft, looking as though down at the top of its hull. The model then rotated from this new angle for a complete circle, before the presentation reset and began again, providing the captain with a complete view of the entire ship—at least as translated by the main computer from telemetry received by the Enterprise’s sensor array.

  “No sign of active weapons or other defenses?” Picard asked.

  “Nothing I can detect, sir,” answered the security chief. As though anticipating his next question, she added, “The battle damage, if that’s what it is, looks to be approximately one hundred twenty years old. Most of it appears to have been inflicted by some kind of particle beam weaponry, but it’s not matching anything we’ve seen before. There also are penetration points along the hull suggesting something like an energy torpedo, but not as advanced as ours.”

  “We’re approaching the ship now, Captain,” reported Scagliotti.

  “Bring us out of warp, Ensign,” Worf ordered. “Shields up.” When Picard cast a wry look in his direction, the Klingon did not flinch. “One can never be too careful, sir.”

  Picard nodded. “Agreed.” To Elfiki, he said, “Give us back normal view.”

  The image on the main viewscreen shifted again, this time to show red-blue streaks of light receding to distant pinpoints peppering the total blackness of interstellar space as the object of their curiosity careened into view. As before, it was a foreboding vessel, spinning in rather lazy fashion on its long axis, dark and angular like a fighting blade. No, Picard decided. To him, the ship resembled the sharpened head of a massive spear.

  “It reminds me of a Tholian ship,” Worf said.

  “We’re well away from their territory,” Picard replied, “even if we took into account how fluid their borders tend to be.” That said, the first officer’s observation was not entirely without merit, for the gargantuan ship did indeed possess a strong resemblance to the far smaller yet still wedge-shaped vessels favored by the Tholian Assembly. “Lieutenant Šmrhová? Any similarities with Tholian technology?”

  The security chief said, “No obvious ones, sir. I mean, besides the general shape. Its internal power systems are completely different from anything we’d expect to find aboard a Tholian vessel.”

  Behind him, Picard heard the sound of doors parting at the rear of the bridge, which was immediately followed by the voice of his chief engineer.

  “Wow,” was Commander Geordi La Forge’s initial comment, but it was enough to make Picard turn from the viewscreen in time to see the awestruck expression on the other man’s face as he emerged from the turbolift. “Would you look at that?”

  “We have,” Picard said, unable to suppress a mild grin. “Welcome to the party, Mister La Forge.”

  “Thanks for inviting me, sir,” the commander replied, stepping to the engineering station at the rear of the bridge. Arriving with him was T’Ryssa Chen, who moved from the turbolift to stand next to Šmrhová.

  “Reporting as ordered, Captain,” she said.

  Picard nodded. “I thought you should have a look at this too, as it might well be the first representative technology from a species indigenous to this region.” Looking to Elfiki, he said, “Lieutenant, what more can you tell us?”

  Elfiki replied, “It measures in excess of twenty-seven hundred meters in length, and nearly eight hundred meters at its widest point. Our scans are able to partially penetrate the hull plating, but the readings are muddled. I’m having to modulate our sensors.” She frowned, shaking her head. “Judging by the size of those engine exhaust ports, whatever drives that thing is likely pretty impressive.”

  La Forge said, “Despite our limited scans, I’m still seeing what looks to be a rudimentary form of warp drive. If I had to guess, I’d say its top speed was about warp two or two point five, so somewhere between first and second generation, and probably not good for much beyond flights between planets in the same system.” He frowned, nodding toward the viewscreen. “Of course, that makes you wonder what it’s doing way out here.”

  “Drifting, mostly,” Šmrhová replied. “I’ve tried backtracking its course to determine a point of origin. I can’t make a conclusive determination, sir, but its trajectory suggests that it came from the star system we’re approaching.”

  Picard considered the possibility. “Sensor data collected by the survey drones that mapped this area indicated advanced life-forms.”

  Looking up from her station, Chen said, “I’ve read those reports, sir. They didn’t mention anything about warp capability. This may be a relatively new technological breakthrough for them.”

  “My thoughts exactly, Lieutenant.” Picard offered a small smile. “If that’s the case, then you may be busy quite soon.” Turning back to the screen, he said in a louder voice, “It looks as though the rest of us have a bit of a mystery to solve.”

  The captain, for one, welcomed the diversion that—for the moment, at least—appeared to be benign. Following a rendezvous at Starbase 24 in which the Enterprise had received a final consignment of supplies as well as its chief medical officer and his wife, Doctor Beverly Crusher, returning from her temporary assignment at Deep Space 9, the starship had set out for parts all but unknown. Weeks of travel from the heart of Federation space had yielded precious little about which to be excited. That much had been expected from the transit to “the Odyssean Pass,” which Picard believed was so named in a poetic whimsy by the Starfleet cartographer reviewing data from the first unmanned survey probes to chart the region. On two-dimensional star charts, the Pass was an area between two branches of Federation territory that skirted the far boundary of space claimed by the Romulan Empire, extending beyond its borders away from Federation, Klingon, and Romulan territory. That the Pass represented one of the few directions in which the Romulans were capable of expanding was not lost on anyone, particularly Picard, who more than once had considered the ramifications should the Federation run afoul of the Empire with respect to any future border disputes.

  “Is there a chance that ship belongs to any of our friends from these parts?” Chen asked. Looking over his shoulder at the young lieutenant, Picard noted her wry expression and discerned her meaning.

  “If you mean the Romulans,” said Šmrhová, “I doubt it. There’s nothing in that ship’s construction or metallurgy that’s even remotely similar to anything the Empire might have.”

  And yet, Picard decided, there was something about this vessel’s elongated, conical silhouette that somehow was familiar. “How long until we intercept it?”

  “Just under an hour at our present speed, sir,” replied Glinn Ravel Dygan, the young Cardassian officer manning the ops station to Chen’s left. Aboard the Enterprise thanks to an officer exchange program between Starfleet and the Cardassian military, the glinn had requested his assignment to be extended so that he could stay with the ship during its new mission to the Odyssean Pass.

  Dygan almost had not made the journey, owing to concerns and pressures over which he had no control. The fallout stemming from President Bacco’s murder and the revelation that a group of Cardassians representing an extremist group calling themselves the “True Way” had been behind the assassination with the aid of none other than President Ishan Anjar and his chief of staff, Galif jav Velk, was affecting
diplomatic relations between the Federation and the Cardassian Union. Though the alliance had suffered in the wake of the tragic events and the search for the responsible parties, newly elected President zh’Tarash remained confident that the bonds of friendship and respect that had been forged after so many years of distrust and conflict could withstand even the horrific truths that had been dragged from the shadows into the light.

  This, Picard knew, was due in no small part to the efforts and determination of Elim Garak, Castellan for the Cardassian Union, with whom the captain also had formed his own unique bond. One of the many initiatives Garak had put into motion after consultation with the new Federation president was the expansion of programs such as the one that had brought Ravel Dygan to the Enterprise.

  “Captain,” La Forge said, “I think I’ve managed to tune the sensors to give us a slightly better picture.” He frowned. “Whatever that thing’s made of is doing a fine job blocking most of our scans, but I’m at least able to push through the hull to a degree. I can’t rule out other power sources that might be shielded, but Lieutenant Elfiki’s right. There’s a huge power generation system in there, and it’s not like anything I’ve ever seen.”

  The engineer was cut off by Šmrhová, who called out, “Captain, sensors are reading a massive power surge from the ship. I’m picking up indications of a handful of systems coming online.”

  “What sort of systems?” Picard asked. “Can you identify?”

  Rather than a reply from the security chief, the abrupt wailing of the red alert klaxon answered his question. He turned to the viewscreen to see a series of harsh orange lights flaring to life at regular intervals down the length of the alien ship’s hull.

  “I think it’s reacting to our scans, Captain,” Šmrhová said. “I’m reading sensors of its own, scanning in all directions, including ours.”

  “Full power to the deflector shields,” Worf ordered. “Stand by phasers.”

  “Shut off the alarm,” Picard added. His attention fixed on the viewscreen, he saw numerous weapons ports activating as the Enterprise continued its flyby, the particle weapons beginning to swivel in their mounts. “Conn, move us away. I want some maneuvering room.”

  Šmrhová’s voice rose. “Weapons are coming online! They’re targeting us!”

  “Lock phasers on those ports and stand by to fire,” Picard ordered.

  From her science station, Elfiki said, “Captain, its defensive shield generators are powering up. If you’re going to fire, you’d better do it now.”

  “Too late!” warned Šmrhová.

  An instant later the first strike impacted against the Enterprise’s shields. With Ensign Scagliotti guiding the ship on an evasive course away from the larger vessel, the result was only a glancing blow, but still enough to make the deck quiver beneath Picard’s feet. As the surface of the derelict passed by on the viewscreen, Picard saw that lights along its hull were beginning to fade.

  “What’s happening?” Worf asked.

  “More power fluctuations, sir,” replied Šmrhová. “As fast as they came up, they’re dropping off. I can’t explain it.” Glancing at another readout, she added, “No damage reported from the attack, Captain.”

  Picard turned from the viewscreen to regard the security chief. “Can you tell us why the attack stopped?” He saw her eyes narrow as she continued to study the incoming streams of sensor data.

  “There seems to have been some kind of failure in their power distribution network, sir. I can’t pinpoint the source.”

  “But you registered no life-form readings,” Picard said, “so either someone’s over there who doesn’t register on our sensors or this is some form of automation.”

  Šmrhová asked, “And if this ship’s been drifting out here as long as we think it has, maybe some of its systems have fallen into disrepair?”

  “Perhaps,” said the captain. On the viewscreen, the entire vessel was once again visible, and all of the lighting and other indications of life which it had displayed mere moments ago had disappeared. “What do your readings show now, Lieutenant?”

  “Everything looks to be back to what it was when we first arrived, sir. At this point, all I can guess is that it has some kind of automated system designed to detect and react to approaching ships. Not a very friendly way to greet visitors.”

  Worf countered, “Such a response would be consistent with a military vessel.”

  “About that,” said La Forge from where he sat at the engineering station. “Captain, you should take a look at this.” Waiting until Picard and Worf joined him, the engineer began tapping a sequence of controls on the console’s illuminated surface. A rough schematic of the derelict craft appeared on one of the station’s display screens, and La Forge gestured to it, indicating a massive cylindrical construct running the length of the ship and ending at the bulbous projection that Picard recognized as the massive port at the craft’s bow.

  “From what I can tell, the bulk of the energy produced by this power plant is for this,” La Forge said. “And it’s definitely not an engine.”

  Worf grunted. “A weapon.”

  “Looks that way,” the engineer replied. “A massive particle beam cannon. It’s heavily shielded, so we won’t know too much about its construction or what it actually fires unless or until we can get a closer look, but it’s pretty much the central component around which the rest of the ship was constructed. This is—or rather, was—a combat vessel of some kind, Captain.”

  “A weapons platform, with elementary warp capability?” Picard asked.

  “It may have been intended as a first-strike option against another planet in the same solar system,” Worf offered.

  Considering that possibility, Picard said, “That would suggest an interplanetary conflict between two or more worlds. Nothing in the survey probes’ sensor data suggested anything of that nature.”

  “How long’s it been since we sent anyone or anything out here?” La Forge asked. “A lot can happen.”

  “Indeed,” Picard said. “The first attempts to explore the region were more than a century ago, but those were civilian colony ships, without Starfleet support, and none of them made it out this far. I remember reading about them back when I was on the Stargazer.” It was during his time as captain of that vessel that he had become acquainted with the first new information from surveys into the Odyssean Pass. The name had caught his attention as he sifted through the volumes of reports sent from Starfleet Command and with which he was expected to familiarize himself. Picard had begun reading the transcripts of data collected by the automated drones sent into the newly charted region, and he had been surprised to learn of the earlier exploration and colonization attempts. “All contact with those ships was lost, so no one knows what happened.” Over the ensuing decades, interstellar political shifts and other priorities eventually saw to it that exploring the area was relegated to a low priority, then eventually to no priority at all.

  Until now.

  Picard’s diverse interests in everything from exploration and archeology to the simple allure of an unsolved mystery were but a few of the factors that had led to his fascination with the Pass. Those same curiosities had driven him to accept the Enterprise’s current assignment. If he had known it would take all these years after he first read those early reports for someone to be given the enviable task of exploring the region, and that he would be the one so nominated to lead such an expedition, he might have lobbied harder for the assignment.

  “Is there any possibility that this vessel could have been constructed by those colonists, or their descendants?” Worf asked.

  La Forge shook his head. “I doubt it.” He waved once more to the schematic on the display monitor. “There’s nothing in this thing that’s similar to any technology the crew of a civilian colony ship would have at their disposal.” Then, the engineer shrugged. “On the other hand, if
they came across someone else’s technology, or came into contact with a more advanced civilization and collaborated with them? I suppose it’s possible.”

  “But we’ve detected no traces of either colony ship,” Picard said. “Of course, we’ve no way of knowing if we’re even following their original course.” He stepped back from the station, drawing a deep breath. “It’s quite a mystery, isn’t it?”

  “I’ll say,” replied La Forge. “Well, except for getting shot at, of course.”

  “There may be other unknown dangers,” Worf said. “I would advise caution if we are to investigate further, Captain.”

  The chief engineer grinned. “Party pooper.”

  “Captain,” said Elfiki, turning from her station, “I’ve found something else you might want to see.”

  “The mystery deepens,” Picard said, moving along with Worf to join the science officer. “What is it, Lieutenant?”

  “I couldn’t believe it when I first saw the readings, sir,” Elfiki said, her fingers moving across her console. She finished entering commands and a new image appeared on one of her station’s monitors, and when Picard read the information scrolling on the screen, his eyes widened in surprise.

  “Chronitons? Are you certain?”

  Elfiki nodded. “I checked it three times to be sure, sir. They’re faint, but there.”

  “Time travel,” Worf said.

  “That, or it came into contact with some sort of temporal anomaly,” replied the Egyptian lieutenant. “From what I was able to determine, whatever encounter they had with any temporal displacement or other phenomenon happened around one hundred twenty years ago.” She paused, sighing. “For all we can tell right now, that ship could be carrying time travel technology.”

  Picard said, “One hundred twenty years? That’s the same age as the battle damage Lieutenant Šmrhová detected.” He studied the readings displayed on the screen. “So, this ship either encountered a spatial anomaly that left behind residual chroniton particles, or else it traveled to a point over a century ago from an as yet unknown moment in time.”