Destiny_ Gods Of Night Part 27

Loskywitz and Altoss charged their phaser rifles. Bowers checked his tricorder and pointed the pair forward, toward the c.o.c.kpit. The human lieutenant took point, with his rifle braced against his shoulder, moving in smooth, easy strides that kept his aim steady. His female Efrosian partner stepped to the control panel for the aft portal and, on Bowers's signal, opened the door to the middle compartment of the small ship. Then she aimed her rifle around the corner and covered Loskywitz as he stole forward, his body pressed close to the port bulkhead in the short connecting pa.s.sageway.

Dax started to follow them, but she stopped when she felt Bowers's hand on her arm. He held out his tricorder so she could see the information on its screen. Although it wasn't reading any life signs in the forward compartment, its motion and air-density sensors had revealed a vaguely humanoid shape slumped against the c.o.c.kpit's aft tactical console.

"Let them secure the ship first," Bowers said to Dax, with a nod toward the security officers. Loskywitz was keeping his weapon aimed at the hatch to the c.o.c.kpit as Altoss advanced through the narrow pa.s.sageway to the middle compartment.

As soon as both security officers reached the portal, they looked back to Bowers for the order to proceed. He motioned Dax to take cover near the corner, and she moved to a safe position from which she could still observe what was happening. Then the XO signaled Altoss and Loskywitz to advance.

Altoss reached up and tapped a b.u.t.ton on a control panel. The hatch hissed open, revealing the darkened c.o.c.kpit, whose only illumination came from the glow of the nebula outside.

Just as the tricorder's scans had indicated, a large, long-limbed alien figure was collapsed on the deck, its narrow torso resting against the support for the aft tactical console. The upper and rear portion of its head was enormous and round, but it had a fleshy quality, like that of a cephalopod. On either side of its head were tubules, whose ends dilated and contracted in a slow cadence. Pulsing in the same rhythm were ribbed, organic tubes that emerged from its neck and curved over its shoulders before tapering and vanishing into its chest.

At the ends of its gangly arms were limp tendrils, and its feet had two forward toes joined by a U-shaped curve and a prominently clawed third toe near the rear of its instep.

Its head swiveled slowly in Dax's direction. Lidless, almond-shaped black eyes stared at her from a narrow face with a mouth that seemed capable of no expression but a grimace.

Loskywitz and Altoss kept their rifles aimed at the weak and apparently defenseless being, even as they looked back to Bowers for new orders. Bowers, in turn, looked to Dax.

She emerged from behind the corner and walked forward before Bowers could tell her not to. "Lower your weapons," she told the security officers.

At the c.o.c.kpit's threshold she stopped and examined the creature more closely. Its leathery hide was mostly gray and mottled with faint hues of violet and viridian.

"I'm Captain Ezri Dax, commanding the Starship Aventine."

The alien's mouth barely moved as it replied in a fragile whisper, "I am Arithon of the Caeliar."

Dax stepped inside the c.o.c.kpit and squatted next to Arithon. "You were on the Earth ship Columbia?"

"Yes. Taken as a prisoner. Before entering the pa.s.sage."

Following her flashes of intuition, she asked, "Was it you who set the ship's autopilot after the crew died?"

"Yes.... Hoped to control the vessel, use it toreturn home. Too much damage. Couldn't stop the crash." The arm that Arithon was using to hold himself in place slipped, and he slumped lower to the deck. Dax reached out to steady him. His skin was cold.

"And that's why you stole the runabout," Dax realized, thinking aloud. "You were trying to get home. But what happened to my people? Did you do that?"

"Forgive me," Arithon said. "Did not mean to kill. Weak without the gestalt. Centuries alone. Drained energy from the ship's batteries until none was left. Hibernated in the machines, waiting for power." The Caeliar finished his slow collapse to the deck. His voice became hollow and distant as he stared at the overhead. "So hungry, so cold. Saw heat and fuel. Had to feed. Was nothing but the hunger. Did not remember myself until this vessel's power restored me. Made me tangible again."

"I don't understand," Dax said. "Made you tangible?"

Arithon's head lolled in her direction and came to a heavy stop. "Needed power to rebuild myself for the return. But all for naught. Voices silenced. Gestalt is lost."

Dax leaned closer. "What does that mean?" The alien didn't respond. She reached out and cradled its head in one arm and laid a hand on its bony, thin chest. "What is the gestalt?"

No answer came. Before she could ask her question again, she realized that Arithon's head was becoming less heavy in her arm-and then it weighed nothing at all. It disintegrated on her sleeve, along with the rest of his body. It all became a cloud of sparkling particles of dust that shimmered for a moment and then transformed into a dull, superfine powder.

Dax lingered in the shadows and dust and looked at the gray residue on her hands. She was torn between remorse at Arithon's demise and relief at being rid of the ent.i.ty that had killed three members of her crew.

Bowers stepped into the c.o.c.kpit and stood beside her. "You live to make my job difficult, don't you?"

"Yes, Sam, it's all about inconveniencing you." She stood and clapped the dust from her hands. "I just don't get it. What did Arithon hope to find here?"

The XO shrugged. "Whatever it was, it probably got fried in the supernova."

"We don't know that. Maybe it left without him."

"Maybe," Bowers said. "What I want to know is, if this is where the Columbia entered the subs.p.a.ce tunnel, why don't its logs have a record of its journey here?"

"No idea." Dax nudged the powder on the deck with the tip of her boot. "But I bet he knew." She looked out the c.o.c.kpit windshield at the chaotic beauty of the supernova remnant. "I feel like we're on the verge of a major breakthrough, Sam. I wish we could see where all this leads."

Bowers replied, "I get the feeling Starfleet Command has other plans for us. Speaking of which, we should probably check in, since we're back in Federation s.p.a.ce ahead of schedule."

"We'll check in with Starfleet as soon as we get back to the Aventine," Dax said. "But I think we're on to something here, Sam-something big. One more ship defending Trill won't make any difference against the Borg. But this might."

"I have a new theory about you," Bowers said, his serious tone telegraphing his deadpan humor.

She mirrored his grave demeanor. "Let's hear it."

"You don't really like being a starship captain, and you're trying to get fired."

She smirked. "You'd have made a good counselor. If you want, I can arrange a transf-"

A comm warble was followed by Lieutenant Commander Helkara's excited hail: "Aventine to Captain Dax!"

"Go ahead, Aventine."

"Captain, we've just received a priority-one distress call. We're reeling in the runabout and beaming up you and your team in ten seconds. Stand by for transport."

"Hang on," Dax said. "A distress call from whom?"

"From the Enterprise, Captain. They've engaged the Borg."

22.

In the heart of night, t.i.tan had found an iron sun.

Riker marveled at the dark orb taking shape on the main viewer. "It reminds me of a Dyson sh.e.l.l the Enterprise found twelve years ago," he said to Vale, who was standing next to his chair and watching the black globe grow steadily larger. "Except smaller, of course."

"Naturally," Vale said. "Heck, this one's only two million kilometers across. You can barely fit a star in there."

He looked up and caught the hint of a smirk at the corner of her mouth. "Exactly," he said with a subtle grin.

Melora Pazlar-or, as Riker had to keep reminding himself, her holographic avatar-turned from the aft science station and said, "Captain, we've picked up another sphere." She relayed her data to the main viewer, where it appeared as a small inset in the top right corner. "Equatorial diameter is eighteen thousand six hundred kilometers. Based on the gravitational field and subspatial displacement, it appears to be constructed of the same unknown alloy as the star-sphere."

Vale asked, "Distance from the star-sphere?"

"One hundred sixty-nine million kilometers," Pazlar said. "Orbital period estimated at four hundred nineteen days."

Riker asked Tuvok, "Any sign we've been detected?"

"None. I have detected no artificial signal activity in this system, Captain. No sensors, no communications."

"So far, so good," Vale said. "What about defenses?"

"Unknown," Tuvok said. "We remain limited to pa.s.sive sensing protocols, and the spheres absorb a wide spectra of energy. Consequently, I have been unable to make detailed scans."

The captain felt his brow crease as he concentrated on finding the simplest and most direct solution to the issue. "What if we moved in closer? To within standard orbital range?"

Tuvok arched an eyebrow as he considered that. "That would enable me to make a more detailed visual a.n.a.lysis."

Riker nodded to Vale, who turned toward the conn and said, "Lavena, take us into orbit of the planet-sphere. Half-impulse approach, and have evasive patterns on standby."

"Aye, sir," replied the Pacifican through her liquid-filled respirator mask. "Sixteen minutes to orbit." The steady thrumming of the impulse engines lent an invigorating vibration to the deck, a tangible sense of impending action.

Riker swiveled his chair toward the other side of the bridge, where Lieutenant Commander Keru manned the security console, Ensign Torvig monitored the bridge engineering station, and Deanna Troi hovered at Keru's side. "Mister Keru, does any of this look like Borg technology to you?"

The brawny Trill security chief traded a glance with the deceptively meek-looking Choblik engineer before he answered, "No, sir. It doesn't look like anything I've ever seen."

"Ensign? Anything to add?"

"Yes, Captain," Torvig said. His tail undulated gracefully behind him. "I've confirmed that the planet-sphere is the source of the energy pulses we detected. Another such pulse has just been emitted, toward Federation s.p.a.ce in the Alpha Quadrant."

Vale folded her arms across her chest. "That seals it. We have to go down there. Ranul, is your security team ready?"

"As much as they'll ever be," Keru said.

Tuvok interjected, "Whether there is a planet inside the smaller sphere or its interior surface serves as a habitat, I suspect its sh.e.l.l will prove impervious to transporter beams."

"Then we'll find a gap in the sh.e.l.l and jaunt down by shuttle," Keru said. "Failing that, we'll make a gap."

Troi stepped from behind Keru, toward the middle of the bridge. "Have we considered hailing them? Opening diplomatic negotiations before we send armed personnel to their planet?"

"For all we know, it's the Borg inside there," Keru said. "If the sh.e.l.l makes it as hard for them to see out as it makes it for us to see in, then we might have the element of surprise on our side. We'll lose that if we hail them."

"They sent a pulse that knocked us out of warp and destroyed our communications systems," Troi said to Keru. "I'd say we lost the 'element of surprise' quite some time ago." She turned toward Riker. "Captain, I respectfully suggest we not abandon diplomacy before we've had a chance to try it. If it's not the Borg inside that sh.e.l.l, we should be prepared to greet its people in peace and make a proper first contact."

Riker was tempted to agree with everything Deanna said, but he didn't want to be too quick to side with his wife during a debate on the bridge. He also was unsure whether he might want to concur with her simply to avoid clashing with her again, to preserve some piece of common ground between them. Instead, he shifted his gaze to Vale and said, "Your opinion?"

"She's right," the first officer said. "There's no sign the Borg have been here, and our primary mission remains peaceful exploration and first contact. We may have come ready for a fight, but we don't have to force one."

Rising from his chair, Riker said, "I agree. Lieutenant Rager, open hailing frequencies to the planet-sh.e.l.l."

The operations officer keyed in the command on her console and replied, "Channel open, Captain."

He took a breath, then lifted his voice. "Attention, residents of the sh.e.l.led planet. This is Captain William T. Riker of the Starship t.i.tan, representing the United Federation of Planets. My crew and I have come in peace and wish to meet with your leaders or representatives. We intend to send a small, unarmed shuttlecraft to your world. If this is acceptable to you, please respond."

Several seconds pa.s.sed in silence. Rager tapped at her console and cycled through all the known frequencies, searching for a reply. Then she looked over her shoulder at Riker and shook her head. "Nothing, sir."

"I might have something, though," Pazlar said. She replaced the inset system chart on the main viewer with a close-up detail from the surface of the planet's sh.e.l.l. Blocks of its exterior seemed to slide or melt away, revealing hollow s.p.a.ces underneath. "It looks like a pa.s.sage through the sh.e.l.l is being created, sir. More than wide enough for a shuttlecraft."

Vale asked, "What about a transporter beam?"

"Sorry," Pazlar said. "No line of sight to the planet. I'd guess they're willing to let us fly down but not beam down."

"Or up," Keru muttered, his suspicion evident.

"It still looks like an invitation to me," Riker said. "Chris, have a shuttlecraft ready to fly as soon as we make orbit. We're going down there."

His first officer glared good-naturedly at him. "What do you mean 'we'? You're not going anywhere, sir."

"Captain's privilege," Riker shot back.

"Starfleet regulations," Vale countered. "And yes, I'm invoking them for real. We don't know who's down there, and I agree with Keru-I worry about why they've made sure we can't use the transporters. Until we know more, you should stay on the ship and leave the away mission to me."

He was about to argue when Troi stepped closer and lowered her voice to tell him, "Listen to her, Will. Your place is here, in command of the ship. We'll handle the first-contact mission."

"With all respect, Counselor," Vale cut in, "you're not going down there, either."

"Yes, I am, Commander. I'm the diplomatic officer on this ship, and first-contact a.s.signments fall under my authority."

"Counselor, this isn't the time or the place-"

"Enough," Riker said. He suspected their disagreement was about to ignite into something much worse unless he intervened. "My ready room, both of you."

He ushered them off the bridge into his private office. Vale entered the ready room first, followed by Troi and then Riker. After the door closed behind him, he asked, "Chris, did Dr. Ree clear Deanna for duty?"

"Yes, as long as she stays close enough for him to monitor her condition. In other words, on the ship."

Riker felt Deanna's ire intensify even as her voice became very calm. "The requirement was proximity to Dr. Ree, not confinement to the ship. The doctor can join the away team and monitor my condition at all times. If anything happens, he can stabilize me long enough to get me back to the ship."

"Seems reasonable," Riker said.

Vale frowned. "I doubt the doctor will agree."

"I'll leave it to you to persuade him, then," Riker said. "a.s.semble your away team and be ready to fly in ten minutes."

As Tuvok piloted the shuttlecraft Mance into the newly opened path through the planet's dull, black sh.e.l.l, he maintained a wary vigil on the environment outside the craft. A pa.s.sage so easily provided could be just as easily revoked.

Commander Vale sat on his left, in the mission commander's seat of the shuttlecraft's c.o.c.kpit. She, too, seemed to be keeping her attention focused outward, looking for any sign of a trap being sprung. Then her stare connected with his, and she rolled her eyes. He imagined it was her way of expressing frustration at their vulnerability.

Behind them, their six pa.s.sengers faced one another, grouped in rows along the port and starboard bulkheads. Commander Troi, Ensign Torvig, and Dr. Ree were behind Vale. On the other side of the cabin were Lieutenant Commander Keru, Lieutenant Sortollo, and Chief Dennisar. The bench seating was awkward for Ree and Torvig, who both perched uncomfortably on its edge.

Outside the c.o.c.kpit window was nothing but a dark tunnel that curved and dipped and doubled back on itself several times, creating a winding course through the sh.e.l.l. None of the Mance's sensors were functioning inside the pa.s.sage. Not even proximity detectors registered any contact with the sh.e.l.l's mysterious, black alloy. That left Tuvok no choice but to navigate by eye and instinct, trusting in his perceptions of parallax motion to guide his hand as he steered through hairpin turns with only navigational thrusters to control the ship.