Maximum Warp Part 11

Normally he would contact Starfleet, explain the situation, make his own suggestions, and await orders. Nothing was normal now. There was no Starfleet Command. At least not unless the Enterprise traveled to it herself.

This decision was his, and his alone. How he could trust someone like T'sart was the real question. And the answer was, he couldn't. But he could trust Spock. Spock had seen some preliminary data that had convinced him.

"Spock, can you use the Enterprise computers to recreate the information you saw?"

"It should be possible to relate what I saw, but those were conclusions, and brief sc.r.a.ps of supporting data. Not enough to initiate our own research."

"It's more than we have now. Please work with Commander Data."

Spock nodded.

"No need," T'sart said, and pulled a thin Romulan data crystal from his tunic pocket.

"I thought you said you had no data."

"I said I couldn't get all of it. I did manage to save my personal files."

Frowning, the captain tapped a b.u.t.ton on a small computer console in the table. "Computer, please give computer access to Spock, former Vulcan Amba.s.sador, retired. Starfleet officer, retired."

"Acknowledged. Access confirmed: Spock. Rank: Captain. Temporary Starfleet activation necessary."

A slight chuckle rose in the back of Picard's throat.

"Welcome back to Starfleet, Captain Spock. At least temporarily."

Spock nodded his acceptance, but said nothing else.

"Well," T'sart said, his lips pressed into a thin line. "If you're finished with your pomp and flourish... You're sitting here as if I haven't just told you life is ending as you know it. It is. Life in all ways may be ending. Do you understand this?"

"I understand," Picard said. "We have a problem of galactic-"

"The galaxy?" T'sart scoffed. "Nothing so mundane. I suspect this problem will soon be universal."

"As in the entire universe?" Riker said, dubious.

T'sart looked at him. "How many people did you have to bribe to attain such a high rank?"

"That's enough," Picard barked.

"Oh, I think not," T'sart snapped back. "You fail to grasp the gravity of this situation. We don't even have time for the lecture I seem to have to give. Do you understand what these dead zones mean? We're not just talking about the end of subs.p.a.ce communications, the lack of which has already destabilized the most powerful governments in this quadrant. We're not just going to see the end of interstellar exploration. We're on the verge of every s.p.a.ce-faring civilization collapsing completely. How many of your colonies will grow cold without their power plants? How many will starve on your Terran homeworld when the replicators don't work? How many will die in your hospitals because it is high technology that cures your disease and deformity?"

Factories, transportation, communication, air purification and creation, heat... and light. All technology at risk. Picard's mind boggled at the idea.

"The lucky ones will die quickly, Captain, of suffocation or hypothermia. The unlucky ones, on your homeworld and mine, will fall into the barbarism and warfare that comes when billions must share the tiny resources that can sustain only a few. And it will happen soon, Picard. Not in months or weeks, but in days, or even hours."

Picard glanced quickly at Spock. The Vulcan gave a slight, grave, affirming nod. His message was clear-what T'sart was saying was chillingly accurate.

"I understand, T'sart," Picard said.

"I hope you do," the Romulan said. "Because it won't just be the Federation or the Empire that will suffer. We're not the only power-addicted civilizations. Everyone, everywhere, who has a technology greater than post-industrialization will fall and then stagnate. Trillions upon trillions of lives will be lost, because the number of people a warp-faring race can sustain is too great for any lesser science."

"And your solution is?"

"Stop it, at the source." T'sart said. "The Caltiskan system."

Picard swiveled his chair toward Spock.

The Vulcan thought for only a semi-second. "That's most of the way across Romulan s.p.a.ce, Captain."

Picard nodded. "Near the Klingon/Romulan border." He shook his head. "You want us to take the Enterprise right through the center of the Romulan Empire, coming within ten pa.r.s.ecs of the Romulan homeworld?"

"No, you want to. You don't want to waste time, either. Because the longer you wait, the greater the chance we won't be able to get there at all. And if we don't, Picard..." T'sart motioned with his hand, including the entire ship in one slow, sweeping gesture. "All this will be nothing more than floating debris, cold and dead in s.p.a.ce. There will be no more starships, and perhaps with enough time, no more stars."

"Even if I believe you," Picard said, "we can't just traverse the most densely populated part of the Romulan Empire."

"You can. With my help." T'sart picked up a data padd, tapped into it for a few moments and then slid the padd down the table toward Picard. "The subs.p.a.ce frequency of our cloaked ships. With this, you will know where every cloaked vessel in range of your scanners is located. You'll be able to destroy them, before they destroy you. And that's just what you'll have to do. And when you get to the Caltiskan system, you're going to have to surprise and overpower, or out-think, the Tal Shiar forces that even the proper Romulan government is unaware are there."

Picard snapped up the padd and glanced at the code. "You'd do this to your own people? Give us the power to see through their cloaks? Ask us to destroy them?"

T'sart smiled again. "The resonance frequency is changed every three days. If we accomplish our goal, there will actually be a fourth day and we can celebrate. If we don't, and either die trying or simply die in a dead zone... it will mean little to any of us." He nodded at the padd. "This code was changed yesterday. You have two days, Captain. Two days, and you'll be blind again. Sooner, if they learn we have the code, so we must use it wisely."

"We?"

"Of course, Captain. You can't have this party without me. I've told you where to go, not what to do when you get there. Puts a little more importance on my health than you otherwise might, don't you think?

"Oh, your health is paramount in my thoughts," Picard said, tapping his comm badge. "Helm, plot a course for Klingon s.p.a.ce. Radio ahead, let them know we're coming."

"Aye, sir."

For the first time, T'sart's expression was one touched with what looked like just a bit of fear. It could have been anger, but Picard preferred to see it as panic. "Klingon s.p.a.ce? You know the price on my head there. Those barbaric fools would destroy a planet to have me in their grasp. Why do you think I've given you the cloak code? You must go through Romulan s.p.a.ce."

"Right now, I'd say the price on your head is about the same in Romulan s.p.a.ce as it is in Klingon s.p.a.ce," Picard said, allowing himself the slightest smile at T'sart's expense. "But the Enterprise can travel freely among the Klingons. And so long as they don't know we have you, you're safe."

T'sart pursed his lips again. "Fine, Picard. Gamble with my life. But by doing so, you gamble with your own, and that of the galaxy's. We don't have time for deteys."

"I'll take that risk, T'sart. I told you," Picard handed the padd to Riker, "I am in command."

Romulan Warbird Makluan Romulan s.p.a.ce Sector 83 "I am in command," Folan said. "And I want priority on warp drive and cloaking systems."

"We should try to alert the fleet," Medric said. "We cannot do this alone."

"We're the only ones who can do this," Folan cried. "We still have them in scanner range. They'll be in the Neutral Zone soon and, once in Federation s.p.a.ce, out of our grasp entirely."

Medric sighed. Folan sensed he was trying to obey her, but he thought so differently, and respected her so little. That wasn't her fault, however. But it was her burden to bear. Every moment she felt she needed to do something to bolster her standing in command. Is this how it is for J'emery, and all commanders, or only those who had been scientists?

"SubCommander," a centurion called. "Enterprise is changing course."

Folan pivoted toward the crewman and leaped up toward his station. "Away from the Neutral Zone?"

"No, SubCommander, but away from Federation s.p.a.ce. They are on a course that will take them into Klingon s.p.a.ce."

"Klingon s.p.a.ce?" Folan's eyes narrowed in perplexity then she turned to Medric, determined. "I need warp capability repaired now. We must be able to match their speed. Then I need the cloak, and communications as well."

Medric smiled. "You will call the fleet?" Folan nodded slowly. "I will call for help," she said, almost in a whisper. "And T'sart... and Picard, will die."

Romulan s.p.a.ce Sector 72 Shuttle Bay awakening sequence complete at time code 4547.

Systems check: Internal scanners, nominal. External scanners, nominal. Active and pa.s.sive sensor grids, nominal. Tractor systems, energized. Force-field generators, energized. Ordnance subsystems, activated.

Verify directive: Undermine and inhibit subject's infrastructure.

Verify sub-directives: Avoid contact with biological forms. Avoid contact with sensor detection. Avoid disabling environments and events.

Scan for location ... Interior of shuttle.

Plotting course for exploration outside shuttle. Plotted. Antigravity propulsion initiated and engaged on heading toward shuttle's port bulkhead.

Scanning obstacle bulkhead: plastiform constructs, various metallic alloys, circuitry. Point of weakness determined. Calculating ... initiating disrupter burst. Vaporization complete.

Evacuation complete at time code 4549.

Scanning shuttlebay ... point of weakness determined Verify position ... acquiring ... Deck 12, section 9, subsection 2, internal Jefferies tube 5. Within range of conduit 31 A. Error: subject shielding interferes with attempt to reprogram. Formulating solution... Determination: physical manipulation necessary. Charging tractor nodes and force-field generators.

Charge complete. Initiating manipulation.

Alert triggered, bio form approaching. Disengage. Shutting down systems. Maneuvering against bulkhead for silent mode.

Postponing action until bio form exceeds scanner range... Sleep state established.

Self-waking initiated. All bio forms outside of set range. Resume previous directive... Klingan/Romulan border Sector S3 Three days ago "WHAT IS IT, SPOCK?"

Picard leaned over the Vulcan's shoulder and looked intently at the science station computer monitor.

"Something Mr. Data and I have found of interest." Spock swiveled his chair away from the console, and Picard stepped back as Data did the same. "In the small amount of information that T'sart was able to smuggle from his research, and by remembering what I was allowed to see of T'sart's 'proof," there is perhaps evidence that these dead zone occurrences are but one stage in a continuous phenomenon. I had glanced at a table of statistics on the current Romulan dead zones. More recent appearances of these zones have allowed tractor beams and even disrupter weapons to function. As these zones ... age, for lack of a better term, even those lower-level power usages become inactive."

"Lower level?" Picard asked.

"In comparison to the warp and impulse power generations, sir," Data replied.

The captain nodded. "How ... far might this degenerate? Will chemical thrusters become useless? Atomic reactions? Need we replicate candles, Mr. Spock, in case we happen upon an older dead zone?"

Spock shook his head. "There is no way, given our limited data, to answer those questions. We will need to study an older zone, perhaps testing it from within."

"Let's hope we don't get that chance. I don't intend to replicate those candles."

"They'd do you little good, Captain," Spock said. "Unless you intended to replicate matches as well."

Picard smiled, and noticed a slight twinkle in the Vulcan's eye. "See what we can do about reconfiguring a probe that will work in these older zones, should we come close to one. If we can learn how to scan for them, map them..."

"Aye, sir," Data said.

Spock nodded and Picard stepped down toward the lower bridge.

Once both Data and Spock had turned back toward the science station, the android leaned toward Spock and spoke in a slightly hushed tone.

"You suggested the captain replicate matches," Data said.

"Yes."

"That was a joke, was it not?"

Spock paused in his work a moment, turning to look at Data. "Without anything to light the candles, of what use would they be?"

"Hmm." Data considered that. "Indeed. I suppose it was not a joke. Or at least not a tunny one. I can often tell now. Remember, since we first met, I have gained emotions."

Spock turned back to the console. "I remember. I hope not on my account."

"No, sir." Data also turned back to the console, but then a slight smile pulled his lips up and he glanced back. "That was a joke, was it not, sir?"

One brow raised in amus.e.m.e.nt, Spock was silent.

Romulan Warbird Makluan Romulan/Klingon border Sector 53 "Did the message get through?" Folan thought her vocal intensity sounded perhaps too nervous, despite her attempt at a demanding tone.

Medric turned tiredly from his console. "We have no way to know. Normally such a high-speed warp buoy would be destroyed entering enemy s.p.a.ce. We should not have used our last one on such a task, in any case."

"I disagree. If this was our last chance for long-range communication, they are closer than our own forces." Folan stepped down to the command chair. Her command chair now. "Perhaps we could modify a warp probe?" So much to think about, so many possibilities. Command was new to her. And she had enemies to her command: T'sart, and Picard. And Medric.

"Subs.p.a.ce communication focusing coils can't be replicated, and we have no such inventory in storage," the centurion said, his tone suggesting she should have known that. "That, along with subs.p.a.ce travel being erratic at best the last two weeks ..."

"Well, it was a calculated risk," Folan explained. That was another mistake, and she knew it the moment she'd heard it clatter to the floor. Medric had suddenly followed her down to the command deck.

"Had we used the buoy to send a message to the fleet-" he began.

She tried to shut him down quickly. "We would not have accomplished our ends." Folan turned away toward the main viewscreen.

"Your ends," Medric said, turning her chair harshly back toward him.

Folan was stunned for a moment, then reminded herself she needed to play the military game of authoritarian bravado and bl.u.s.ter. She tried to narrow her eyes and stare him down. "This is my command now, Medric. My ends are your ends, our ends."

As he always was when she showed her backbone, Medric was silent. But his courage returned more quickly each time he confronted Folan, and this time he paused but a moment. "There is a difference between being in command, and commanding respect. We have seventy-four comrades dead, and twice that injured. We have no communications with Command. One disruptor bank is offline and will take seven more hours to repair. We are leaking plasma from our starboard nacelle, rendering our cloak useless. We're limping. Just what is it you believe you command?"

Folan leaned toward him and whispered. "Be careful, Medric. A sharp tongue can swing so fast it slits its master's throat."

He considered that a moment, then stood straight, almost -but not quite-at attention. "At this time, I'm only making... a recommendation. There is an imperial subs.p.a.ce relay station just fourteen hours from here at present speed. Once within its range, perhaps it will boost our signal enough to notify Command and await orders. We might even be able to borrow a replacement-"

She shook her head. "We haven't the time. T'sart is almost in Klingon s.p.a.ce. And reports before we left were that the subs.p.a.ce radio relays were having the same problems as all vessels and bases. No ... we will a.s.sume our message was received and that our new allies will act properly."

"A large and foolish a.s.sumption," Medric said as he turned away. "SubCommander," he added finally.