Star Trek: The Next Generation - 119 - Armageddon's Arrow Read online

  “All right, everybody,” La Forge said as the Jefferies pivoted and came to station keeping at what had to be a distance of less than a hundred meters. “We’re in position.” Beyond the viewing port, Chen saw the immense hatch which, if the chief engineer was right, would lead to the landing bay and the rest of the colossal ship.

  “Are you certain this will work?” Worf asked.

  Even wearing his EV suit, the chief engineer still was able to manage a shrug. “Beats me. I’ve scanned the hatch-locking mechanism, and it seems to work with a magnetic seal not all that different from our own airlock systems. It uses a harmonic transceiver to control access, so it should just be a matter of transmitting the right frequency. The computer’s given me several combinations to try, so let’s see what happens.”

  His gloved hands moving across his console, La Forge entered a lengthy string of instructions. With all members of the away team sharing the same active communications channel, Chen and the others listened as La Forge murmured and muttered under his breath while transmitting different signal patterns. After nearly two full minutes, he sat back in his seat.

  “I think that’s it.”

  In response to his statement, several recessed lights positioned around the large hatch flared to life, one of them directing a harsh beam of brilliant white illumination through the shuttlecraft’s viewing port. Chen raised her hand to deflect the glare, and in doing so saw that the hatch was beginning to open. The heavy door split into eight sections that pulled away from the entry’s center and receding into slots that formed the port’s threshold.

  “Open Sesame,” La Forge said, and Chen saw Worf look at him with a confused expression. “That’s what Data would say if he were here.”

  The Klingon grunted. “I highly doubt it.”

  “You weren’t there.”

  “Where?”

  “Wait. You were there.” La Forge held up a hand. “Never mind. It’s a long story.”

  Beyond the viewing port, the hatch had cycled open, revealing a chamber that was more than large enough to accommodate the shuttlecraft. No one said anything, and Chen realized after a moment that she was holding her breath as she waited to see if the alien craft took some form of umbrage at their intrusion.

  It did not.

  For now, anyway, Chen mused.

  “There are two smaller ships inside the bay,” La Forge reported after the hatch finished opening, “but there’s plenty of room for us. Enterprise, except for the hatch, our sensors are showing no other changes in response to our presence.”

  “We read that, too,” replied Picard over the open frequency. “The life-form readings Lieutenant Elfiki detected have not changed, either. Proceed at your discretion, Number One.”

  “Understood,” Worf said.

  The Klingon guided the Jefferies through the open entry with a deft hand, and within moments the shuttlecraft was settling onto the bay’s metal deck. Working together, Worf and La Forge secured the shuttle’s systems and powered down its engine. Reaching over his head, Lieutenant Konya tapped a control that brightened the illumination inside the passenger area.

  “How do you want to proceed, Commander?” asked the deputy security chief as he rose from his seat.

  Stepping from the cockpit into the shuttle’s rear compartment, Worf replied, “We will reconnoiter the landing bay first and verify that it is secure. Once that is accomplished, we will proceed to the source of the life-form readings Lieutenant Elfiki identified.”

  “Keep this channel open at all times,” Picard ordered, “and enable your helmet visual feeds. At the first sign of trouble, I want you out of there.”

  “Aye, sir,” said the first officer, and the away team members each checked their individual suit controls to ensure their communications systems were transmitting both audio and visual signals back to the Enterprise.

  “We’re receiving your signals,” said Picard. “Good hunting.”

  His phaser in his right hand, Worf moved to the hatch and pressed the control to open it. Without waiting for an order, Konya and Cruzen—each of them carrying phaser rifles Konya had retrieved from the shuttle’s weapons locker—fell in behind him. As Worf stepped through the hatch and down to the deck, the pair of security officers followed suit, moving to either side of him, their rifles up and aimed ahead of them. Chen felt a sudden knot twist in her gut, and her grip tightened around the phaser pistol in her hand.

  “Let’s go,” La Forge said, his engineer’s satchel slung over his right shoulder and across his chest. He led Chen and Elfiki through the open hatch and out onto the landing bay.

  As she dropped to the deck, Chen pressed the control pad on her left thigh that engaged her boots’ magnetic grip, and she felt the bottom of her foot press against the metal plating. Walking in a microgravity environment with an EV suit was a simple enough matter, though a bit more labor intensive than normal movement. Still, training and experience saw to it that she was moving with relative comfort after just a few steps. She followed La Forge as the chief engineer made his way toward the bay’s still open hatch, beyond which lay open space and, in the distance, the Enterprise.

  “Now that I’ve got at least one of the proper sequences,” La Forge said, his voice echoing in her helmet as he held up his tricorder and aimed it in the general direction of the entryway, “we should have a pretty easy time moving through the ship.” He pressed a control on his tricorder, though Chen heard no sound emitted from the device thanks to the vacuum surrounding them. However, a second later the massive door began to close.

  “Geordi,” Chen heard Worf say over the open channel, and at the same time she noticed that it was getting easier to see around her. The shadows cloaking the bay were retreating as overhead lighting increased in intensity, provided by lengths of what to Chen looked like luminescent strands running along creases in the ceiling panels.

  “What was that?” La Forge asked, turning away from the hatch. “Did somebody trip something?”

  Worf replied, “Negative. No one has touched anything.”

  Beyond the first officer, Chen saw that Konya and Cruzen had taken up defensive positions near the Jefferies and now were sweeping the chamber, their phaser rifles tracking wherever they searched for potential threats. On the other side of the bay, the two other craft now were plainly visible, each of them half again as large as their own shuttlecraft and possessing low, sleek profiles that suggested to Chen that they were ships intended for combat.

  “Number One,” Picard said over the open frequency, “we’re detecting a modest increase in energy levels over there. They seem localized to your immediate vicinity.”

  “I think I know what this is,” said Elfiki, waving with her free hand and indicating her tricorder. “This looks like it might be an automated response. Our accessing the system controlling the landing bay hatch seems to have triggered a protocol to restore the internal environment, at least in this area of the ship. I’m picking up indications of life-support systems coming online, including whatever it is that they use to achieve artificial gravity.”

  Scanning her own tricorder, Chen nodded in agreement. “I think she’s right, sir. There’s a definite increase in power levels, but only in this compartment as well as one of the connecting corridors. As for the atmosphere, it’s Class-M. Once everything’s up and running, we should be able to move around without our suits.”

  “You’re saying the onboard computer rolled out a welcome mat for us?” La Forge asked.

  “That was nice of it,” Cruzen said.

  Elfiki said, “Well, likely not for us, but obviously the computer is programmed to respond to changes in whatever it considers to be the ship’s current status.”

  “What about those life-forms Elfiki found?” Konya asked. “Could they be behind this?”

  “There’s only one way to find out,” Worf replied.

 
6

  Nothing is ever as simple as it first appears to be.

  How many times, Picard wondered to himself, had he pondered that thought, or some variation, as he sat on the bridge of his ship while people he commanded marched off into the unknown and perhaps harm’s way? Far too many, he conceded. Protocol often called for a commanding officer to stand or sit idle as other men and women carried out hazardous missions, sometimes at the cost of their very lives. As a younger man, Picard had been uncomfortable with the idea of sending others into danger while he remained behind, but age, experience, and even wisdom had made him realize that the rules existed for good reasons, even if there were times when he did not agree with them.

  Now was one of those times.

  Rising from his command chair at the center of the Enterprise bridge, he stepped forward until he stood between the conn and ops positions. “Lieutenant Šmrhová, any changes in your readings?”

  Behind him, the security chief replied, “Nothing beyond what we’re already detecting sir. Minor increases in power emissions, and what looks to be life-support systems powering up in isolated areas, but nothing like we saw before. To be honest, sir, the pattern of the increases doesn’t make any sense to me.”

  Picard frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “The areas that are coming online aren’t really connected in any way that I can see,” Šmrhová replied. After a moment, during which Picard heard her tapping controls on her station, she added, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was a random sampling, which doesn’t make any practical sense, given that the life-form readings are all grouped together. In fact, the compartment where we detected life signs isn’t receiving any of this.”

  Recalling the theories La Forge had offered to explain the odd readings, Picard said, “If the life-forms are in some form of hibernation, is it possible there’s a malfunction of sorts, and it’s impacting whatever’s happening now?”

  “It’s as good a guess as any, sir.”

  Picard regarded the main viewscreen, which had been configured so that the display’s top two-thirds depicted an image of the enormous alien craft. The screen’s remaining portion now was split into six equal sections, each relaying the visual feed from the helmets of the away team. Worf’s and La Forge’s feeds were on either end of the group, bracketing the remaining officers. Given how the team was ordered as it made its way deeper into the derelict ship, most of the feeds showed little more than the back of the person in front of the helmet transmitting the picture. Only Worf, who currently was leading the team, offered a view of the large, straight corridor the team now traversed. The passageway was itself unremarkable, at least from Picard’s vantage point, being a utilitarian affair adorned with all manner of control panels, gauges, and conduits as well as the occasional sealed hatch or what appeared to be something like ladder rungs disappearing above the ceiling or beneath the deck to other levels.

  “I can’t believe I didn’t notice this before,” said the voice of Geordi La Forge over the open communications channel. “There’s no dust on anything. I mean, anywhere. Just looking around, it’s like somebody cleaned up the place five minutes before we got here.”

  T’Ryssa Chen replied, “Some kind of automated cleaning apparatus or heavy-duty air filtration system?”

  “Maybe,” said La Forge, “but it’d have to be pretty robust to stay active for a century or more with no regular maintenance schedule.”

  Another voice, this one belonging to Lieutenant Rennan Konya, added, “So, either they build things really well wherever this ship is from, or else somebody’s on board and apparently ignoring all our attempts to communicate. That’s comforting.”

  “Where are they in relation to the life signs we detected?” Picard asked.

  Šmrhová said, “Less than one hundred meters, sir. At their present rate of progress, they should be there in eight to ten minutes.”

  “And you’re certain there are no other onboard reactions to their presence?”

  “None that I’ve been able to detect, sir.”

  The report did little to placate Picard’s unease, which had remained elevated after the alien ship’s initial response to the Enterprise’s presence. The feeling had taken a sharp upswing with the away team’s departure and the derelict’s reaction to the shuttlecraft Jefferies’s arrival in its landing bay. Did the gargantuan vessel have intruder control systems? Had its crew simply deployed crude but dangerous or even potentially lethal booby traps to thwart unwanted visitors? The ship had been out here a long time, after all, and even if the Enterprise was the first vessel to encounter it, surely its builders or masters had, given its apparent primary purpose, foreseen the possibility of trespassers?

  “Geordi, look at this,” said the voice of Worf over the intercom. On the viewscreen, Picard saw the visual feed from the first officer’s helmet swing left, coming to rest on one of the several control consoles the away team had passed during their transit from the landing bay, but which was markedly different from its counterparts. “This station is active.”

  “It sure is,” replied La Forge, and his own helmet’s feed now also was transmitting images of the operating console.

  “Are you able to access it?” asked the captain.

  “Maybe. It’ll take some time to understand the interface, but from what I’m seeing, this console has full access to the onboard computer and every system across the ship. If we can establish a link with the Enterprise, the universal translator can get to work.”

  Sitting at the ops station, Glinn Ravel Dygan said, “That seems odd.” When Picard turned to regard the young Cardassian, he added, “I mean from a security standpoint, sir. A console in an indiscreet location such as a common corridor, available to anyone and allowing access to the ship’s most sensitive systems, does not seem like a prudent design.”

  “On the other hand,” countered Šmrhová, “if we’re talking about a small crew and a ship that runs largely on automation, it makes more sense for anyone to be able to access any critical system from anywhere.”

  Dygan seemed to contemplate the security chief’s hypothesis for a moment before nodding. “An excellent point, Lieutenant, and one I had not considered.”

  “Enterprise, are you seeing this?” La Forge asked. On the viewscreen, Picard saw that the engineer was still studying the workstation, which now featured an active display depicting a technical schematic. Picard recognized it as a section of the alien craft, with a focus on its internal systems. “I think we can put to rest any idea of this not being a combat ship, and I mean that in the truest sense. If I’m reading this right, nearly every onboard system is designed to prioritize weapons and defenses, with the main particle cannon taking precedence over everything else. This thing is essentially the cannon with an engine attached, and some support systems to help it get to whatever it’s supposed to blow up next.”

  Lieutenant Elfiki added, “The computer’s decision-support software is incredible, and the entire system looks to be heavily encrypted. It’ll take days to sift through.”

  “There’ll be plenty of time for that,” Picard said. “Number One, once Commander La Forge has set up the data link to the Enterprise, proceed to the source of the life-form readings.”

  “Acknowledged,” replied the Klingon.

  Turning from the screen, Picard said to Šmrhová, “Lieutenant, alert engineering about Mister La Forge’s plan. I want Commander Taurik to oversee the operation and guard against any infiltration of our computer by anything over there.”

  The security chief nodded. “Aye, sir.”

  Though he allowed himself a small sigh, Picard forced himself to maintain his composure. As always, one of the most frustrating parts about sending an away team on a mission was the waiting.

  Waiting for what, exactly?

  * * *

  “Worf, we’re here.”

  Stan
ding behind the Klingon in the large passageway, La Forge indicated with his tricorder an oversized, sealed hatch set into the bulkhead. The door, like much they had encountered so far during their exploration of the alien ship, was composed of unpolished, unpainted metal. A string of characters rendered in an indecipherable script was etched into the hatch’s smooth surface, and above the door was yet another luminescent strand providing dim illumination to this part of the corridor.

  “I think this says something about suspension,” La Forge said, studying his tricorder. “Could mean hibernation.” Not for the first time, he willed the universal translation protocols currently being employed by the Enterprise’s main computer to work faster as they continued their process of interpreting the unknown language of the ship’s builders and possible inhabitants.

  “You got it right, Commander,” said the voice of Lieutenant Šmrhová over the open channel. “The computer confirms that the label reads ‘Suspension,’ along with some kind of code it thinks might be a room or compartment number.”

  “How’s the computer coming with the rest of the translation?” La Forge asked.

  The security chief replied, “Still working, but the database it’s building is already pretty large. The translation matrix found thirty-eight distinct languages represented in the ship’s computer files. A few of those were really interesting, and by that I mean odd, like they didn’t belong with the rest. Within an hour, you should be able to interact with any of the onboard systems.”

  “And talk to anybody we meet?” Chen asked.

  “That’s the plan, Lieutenant.”

  La Forge said, “Well, there’s still the security lockouts and decryption. Baby steps, but for now we’ll have to muddle through as best we can.” Moving so that he stood before the closed door and the control panel set into the adjacent bulkhead, he held up his tricorder and keyed one of the harmonic sequences he had assembled, similar to the one he had used to open the landing bay’s external hatch. This time it took him three attempts before he found a sequence that worked. An indicator on the control panel flared a bright yellow and there was an audible click as magnetic seals were disengaged.