Power Hungry Part 1

POWER HUNGRY.

by Howard Weinstein.

SAG AND aRa.s.s HARM-ORM danced and soared, filling Will Riker's cabin with the intricate contrapuntal melody of Pachelbel's timeless Canon in D. The First Officer of the starship Enterprise reclined in his armchair, eyes closed, savoring the final notes, the crystalline trill of a solo trumpet. When that last pure and perfect note had faded, Riker opened his eyes and propped elbows on knees, looking for reactions from his companions, Captain JeanLuc Picard and ship's counselor Deanna Troi, both seated facing him. "Deanna?"

"Absolutely beautiful." Tcoi's large dark eyes glistened with pleasure. "I've never heard that piece before."

"It's very old," Picard said, "Seventeenth-century earth, I believe."

"That's right," Riker said. "I've always been partial to baroque."

"I had a hunch," Riker said, grinning through his beard.

Picard's eyes narrowed. "Imagine-we're listening to music composed seven hundred years ago .... What a pity the creators of great art can't know their work lives on long after they've gone to dust."

The tall first officer leaned back again, hands clasped behind his head. "I wish I'd had the time to learn more about music, maybe try my hand at composing."

"It's never too late to learn something new,"

Deanna said. "It would be refreshing for you to develop some new activities for your spare time."

"That's true-but then I'd need to develop some new spare time," Riker said ruefully. He smiled. "My commanding officer keeps me pretty busy."

The electronic tone of the cabin intercom sounded and was followed by the calm voice of Lieutenant Commander Data. "Bridge to Captain Picard."

"This is Picard. What is it, Mr. Data?"

"We have received a priority code communication from Starffeet Command, sir."

The captain and first officer exchanged concerned glances. "Pipe it down here."

"Yes, sir."

The comm screen over Riker's desk lit, displaying the Starfleet insignia. "Request voice print identification," said the computer's soft feminine voice.

Picard leaned forward and crossed his arms.

"Picard, JeanLuc, captain, U.s.s.

Enterprise."

"Voice print verified." The insignia's stylized starfield was replaced by a severe-looking woman in a wine-colored Starffeet uniform. She peered out from under dark bangs that were long enough to cover her eyebrows, and she spoke with a slight drawl. "Captain Picard, I'm Captain Kimberly Schaller, Starfleet Command. We've intercepted some Ferengi communications-looks as if they've developed quite an interest in the sector you're headed for."

"The Thiopan system?" Picard's jaw tightened. "What sort of interest?" "We believe they would like to make it part of their alliance. Thiopa is centrally located between our border and the Ferengi fringe systems. They've traded with other nonaligned planets out there, but haven't been able to establish a heavy presence before. How familiar are you with Thiopa's current situation?"

"I know the standard mission profile," Picard said. "Which I take it is about to be substantially complicated?"

Schaller managed a small smile. "I'd say that's an comunderstatement, Captain Picard.

We'll feed all the latest information to your computers.

I strongly suggest you and your senior staff review it before you get to Thiopa."

"We shall. Should we expect a Ferengi presence in the area?" was "Expect" may be too strong a word-what we intercepted wasn't that specific.

Let's just say you should be cautious. I know you're on a mercy mission, so I'm sure you would prefer to avoid a military confrontation with a Ferengi task force."

Picard frowned. "The Ferengi are usually quite reticent to engage in direct combat. Does your information indicate a change of heart?"

"I can't say for sure. But they do know the Enterprise 3 is traveling alone with five automated cargo carriers. In their eyes, that might make you an enticing target."

"Understood. We'll be careful."

"Very good, Captain Picard. If we get any other relevant information, we'll transmit it to you as fast as possible. Schaller out."

Picard faced his officers. "Your musical composing career will have to wait, Number One. We'd better get up to the bridge."

Captain's log-Stardate 42422.5.

The Enterprise is two hours away from the Thiopan star system on what has become a dual-purpose mission. We are responding to an urgent request from Thiopa's planetary government for Federation a.s.sistance in dealing with a critical drought and resultant food shortage.

The Thiopans have only recently disengaged from along-standing a.s.sociation with the despotic Nuaran Imperium. And now Starfleet has informed us that the Ferengi Alliance has designs on this sector.

It is hoped our convoy of food and other desperately needed supplies will not only alleviate Thiopa's crisis but will also give the Federation a chance to establish formal ties with the planet before the Ferengi can take advantage of the chaotic situation.

THE ENTERPRISE CRUISED sERENELY through open s.p.a.ce with five stubby cargo ships trailing her in delta formation like ducklings tagging along behind their mother. The freighters were linked directly to the starship's main computer; any changes in course or speed made by the Enterprise were automatically copied by the entire convoy. The only hindrance to the starship caused by the presence of the cargo drones was a reduction in speed; they were simply incapable of anything faster than warp three.

JeanLuc Picard sat alone in the captain's ready room just off the main bridge, enjoying the view of s.p.a.ce offered by this chamber, a view unimpeded by the enhancements of viewscreen technology. Stars glowed in a rainbow of colors, veils of dust reflected and refracted the starlight shining through them, tendrils of gaseous material drifted and roiled like tinted smoke. Picard found the sights of outer s.p.a.ce endlessly fascinating, soothing and stimulating all at once-a paradox that never failed to please him. He enjoyed those sights here more than anywhere else. The ready room had become his favorite place on the ship, a sanctum for private pondering, yet only steps away from the main bridge.

But the very existence of this little refuge from the hurly-burly of command had come as something of a surprise ....

Darting like a skimmer-bug on a pond, the shuttle pod in which Picard was a pa.s.senger turned smartly and approached the maze ofgirders...o...b..ting high over the ruddy surface of Mars. With a bit offree time on his hands, JeanLuc Picard had hopped a supply transport on its way from earth to the Utopia Planetia Fleet Yards. It was a purely unofcial visit, but curiosity about the first of the new Galaxy cla.s.s starships being built here was reason enough to come and take a look.

Cradled inside its construction bay, the U.s.s Enterprise, NCC-1701-D, was still the object of intensive activity, with work crews swarming over her. She was now nearly complete, and Picard's solemn features softened into a smile of satisfaction as he gazed at her.

"She is beautiful, Captain Picard?"

Lieutenant Snephets, Picard's escort, was an Oktonian female with four pale pink eyes.

Like all Oktonians, she phrased statements as questions.

Picard replied with a nod and just a tinge of awe.

"She is indeed, Lieutenant. "She was, without a doubt, the most beautiful s.p.a.cecraft he'd ever seen. He smiled inwardly at the affection he already felt for this vessel he would soon command. He suspected shed be an easy ship to love. Picard had spent the bulk of his career for that matter, most of his adult life-as an explorer. .for twenty-two years he'd commanded the deep-s.p.a.ce trailblazer Stargazer. Shed been a good ship, taken Picard and his crew through some dicey situations, but no one who'd lived aboard her would ever have described her as top of the line.

"Captain, a pleasure it has been working on Enterprise?"

Picard knew Lieutenant Snephets wasn't asking a question, but her tone of voice compelled him to answer out of politeness. "I'm sure it has. She's a most impressive vessel."

Snephets skillfully docked the shuttle with the access port on the starship's expansive flank.

"You are greatly honored, sir, being her first commander?"

"Yes, Lieutenant, I am. his The pod door slid open and a burly bearded man in a gold uniform greeted Picard in the corridor. "Engineer Argyle, sir. Welcome aboard. The bridge has been completed, if you'd like to see it. his "1 would indeed, Mr. Argyle. his "This way, Captain. was He led Picard to a turbolift and they stepped in. "Bridge, "said Argyle as the doors shut. For a long, embarra.s.sing moment, nothing happened. The engineer swallowed, repeated the order, and the lift finally started moving.

"Not quite shipshape yet, Mr. Argyle, was Picard said, with a hint of understanding.

"She will be, sir. his They arrived at the bridge and stepped out.

Picard stopped suddenly, gaping. The lighting, the s.p.a.ce, the obvious attention to details ... The Enterprise wasn't going to be just another ship, he realized. It was going to be like home.

"Would you like to see the conference lounge and your ready room, sir?" "Both right here on the bridge level?" Picard almost gaped again. "Isn't that wasted s.p.a.ce?"

Argyle couldn't help beaming. "Not on the Enterprise, sir. his An easy ship to love. Until he'd actually toured her from stem to stern, nothing could have prepared Picard for the sheer size and volume of the Enterprise. Quite simply, she represented a quantum leap in design and construction, beyond any other vessel in 8 the fleet. And his first year in command had made him wonder how he'd managed to survive two decades in the comparatively cramped confines of the old Stargazer. It hadn't taken long for him to come to appreciate every inch of "wasted s.p.a.ce"

built into the Galaxy cla.s.s design-most of ail, his personal retreat, his ready room.

Picard again skimmed the summary of Captain Schaller's report on his desktop computer screen. Would the Ferengi really have the stomach for a confrontation? Fueled as they were by the thirst for profit, the Ferengi had demonstrated time and again that they preferred to avoid armed conflict whenever possible.

But Picard's own experiences with the Ferengi Alliance told him that vigilance would certainly be in order. More than likely, the Ferengi would be skulking about on the periphery, maintaining a low profile, cautiously keeping their hand in play and keeping an eye on what the Federation was doing. And there was no reason why they shouldn't, since Thiopa was in free s.p.a.ce.

The intercom tone sounded, followed by Riker's voice. "Captain Picard ..."

"What is it, Number One?"

"Sensors picking up some activity at extreme range. I thought you'd want to know."

"I'll be right there."

The captain strode onto the bridge, glancing at his regular staff at their posts-Riker and Troi seated on either side of his command chair in the center well; Lieutenant Worf, the Klingon security chief, at his tactical panel on the horseshoe-shaped upper deck; Data and young Wesley Crusher at the forward Operations and Control stations.

As he started to sit, Picard noticed a less familiar face attending the Mission Operations monitors directly behind Worf. She was young, with auburn hair and a sprinkling of freckles spilling across her nose. Lieutenant White, he remembered, sliding into his contoured seat. He inclined his chin toward the viewscreen. "What's out there, Number One?"

"I can't tell for certain, sir. Three or four small ships at the limit of our sensor range."

"Any discernible heading?"

"Not since we picked them up. We've been transmitting standard hailing messages-disno response."

"Captain," Data broke in, "two ships are now moving evasively but in our general direction."

"Mr. Worf," said Picard, "still no response to our hails?" "Negative, sir.

Recommend defensive postureshields up, weapons on standby." "Agreed. Make it so.

Mr. Data, tactical display on main viewer."

A grid replaced the starfield on the bridge screen. The Enterprise and her five cargo carriers appeared on the left side of the grid.

Two fast-moving blips were approaching from the right.

The pair of s.p.a.cecraft closing on the big starship were slender projectiles, dark, fierce, and anonymous in their simplicity, without muscular bulges or bristling weapons. Their elemental design hinted at singleness of purpose. They were killers.

Without slowing, they split apart and veered around the Enterprise, one to either side, then suddenly cut and crossed, unleashing a pair of torpedoes at one of the trailing cargo ships. The burning blue streaks found their mark and the freight drone exploded in a puff of shimmering shards.

Picard gripped his armrests as he watched the destruction on the viewscreen. "d.a.m.n. Position of intruders?"

Data scanned his console. "Retreating at . .

. warp eleven." His eyebrows rose in surprise at the speedfaster than the Enterprise could manage.

The aft turbolift snapped open and Geordi LaForge burst onto the bridge. "Mr.

LaForge," said Picard, "I thought you were off duty."

"The chief engineer's never off duty, Captain," LaForge replied, activating the bridge engineering console.

Picard and Riker exchanged a meaningful look.

Geordi's unexpected appearance at a critical moment was another indication that his promotion to chief engineer was more than deserved.

"Mr. LaForge," Picard said, "I do not want to lose another freight drone. Can we extend our shields to protect them?"

LaForge's compact form tensed as he checked his readouts. "In this formation, it'll be tough, Captain. We can do it, but not without a serious drain on overall available power."

"Then tighten the convoy. Make sure Mr. Worf has enough power for phasers." Picard faced forward again. "Mr. Data, have you identified the intruders?" "Yes, sir. They are Nuaran interceptors."

"Captain," Worf said, "Nuarans are among the most effective warriors in the galaxy."

"And the slimiest," Geordi added. "Even the Ferengi won't deal with them. What are they doing out here?" Riker stroked his beard. "Maybe the Thiopans can tell us."

"Maybe we can find out ourselves." Picard swiveled halfway around in his chair. "Mr.

Worf, hailing frequencies."

"Open, sir."

"Attention, Nuaran s.p.a.cecraft-this is the U.s.s. Enterprise. We are on a non-hostile mission. We request contact to discuss your unwarranted destruction of a Federation cargo vessel." Picard's voice was calm, almost soft. He waited almost a full minute without getting a response before speaking again.

"Repeat, Nuaran s.p.a.cecraft-this is the U.s.s. Enterprise. We are on a non-hostile mission-but if you interfere, we will take defensive action."