Star Trek: The Original Series - 082 - Federation (34 page)

“She’s holding something back,” Troi said for the captain’s ears only.

The new commander gestured with open hands. “Captain Picard, you have heard the traitor speak with her own words.

There is no need for you to become involved in this.” The turbolift doors flew open again and Riker sprinted onto the bridge. He saw the two Romulans on the screen and immediately asked, “Are they asking for… anything to be returned?” Picard turned away from the screen and signaled Worf to cut the audio. “The new commander hasn’t mentioned the artifact.

It’s almost as if he doesn’t know it’s missing.” “Or else he thinks that it’s still on board Tarl’s ship,” Troi Suggested.

“No,” Picard said, “sensors would let him know where the artifact is within seconds. I think the new commander really has come just to retrieve Tarl and her vessel.” “And she appears to want to go along with that,” Troi observed.

“Because she wants us to get away with the artifact,” Picard agreed. “But I’m not about to abandon someone who has proven herself so brave, and so farsighted.” He faced the viewscreen again and motioned for Worf to restore the transmission.

“To whom do I have the honor of speaking?” Picard asked.

The new Romulan commander nodded his head in greeting.

For some reason as yet unclear to Picard, the Romulan commander certainly wasn’t behaving like the belligerent type of Romulan Picard knew all too well. “I am Traklamek. Will you withdraw, Captain Picard?” “I would like to propose a compromise,” Picard said.

“That is not necessary,” Tarl replied, and there seemed to Picard to be a warning in her voice. He looked to Counselor Troi for confirmation that she had sensed it, too. Troi nodded slightly.

“Nor is it acceptable,” Traklamek added curtly.

Unperturbed by the lack of both commanders’ encouragement, Picard continued. “Commander Traklamek, the Federation has no desire to compromise the safety of the Empire, and we are willing to turn over Commander Tarl’s vessel to you. However, we do wish to provide sanctuary to the commander, and however many of her crew wish to join her.” “Completely unacceptable,” Traklamek stated.

“I do not wish to escape my fate,” Tarl said in a tight voice. “As a warrior, Captain Picard, you must understand.” “She’s still not being truthful,” Troi said softly.

Picard heard the tone which indicated Worf had broken audio transmission again. “Captain,” the Klingon announced from behind, “I am reading a considerable volume of subspace communication between the two Romulan vessels.” “Can you intercept?” Picard asked.

“The communications are heavily encrypted.” “Traklamek might be trying to take control of Tarl’s computers,” Riker suggested.

Picard considered their options. “We were prepared to beam aboard Tarl’s crew. Can we do so while under attack?”

Riker said, “We can’t beam through shields, but if we were able to get close enough to Tarl’s ship so that our shields and hers combine, as we did with the shuttlecraft, it might be possible.” “How long would we have to stay beside her?” Picard asked.

“If we’re limited to just our own transporters, maybe fifteen, twenty minutes to get all three hundred plus of her crew.” u ‘And if Tarl uses her transporters as well?” u ‘Faster, but still no less than ten minutes. Warbirds aren’t set up for evacuation.” u ‘Captain Picard,” Traklamek’s voice resounded from the screen. “I must have your answer now.” Picard addressed his crew, including the navigator who had replaced Wesley Crusher. “Mr. Worf, prepare to launch a wide-burst spread of photon torpedoes. Ensign McKnight, on my mark you will bring us to within five meters of Commander Tarl’s forward hull. Resume audio, please.” Picard stepped forward to face the Romulan commanders. “I have already given you my answer,” he said defiantly. “You have five seconds to withdraw.” Instantly Traklamek’s image disappeared from the screen.

“He has gone to maximum shields,” Worf said. “Romulan phasers coming on-line.” “You had your chance to get away!” Tarl exclaimed. “Why didn’t you take it?” “The Federation does not abandon its friends,” Picard said.

“Traklamek is firing?’ Worf growled.

Picard pointed at the screen just as Tarl’s image winked out.

“Fire torpedoes! Ensign—mark!” The bridge lurched as more phaser fire burst against the ship, the thunder of its disruption joining the echo of the torpedo launching tubes. Then, just as a wall of photon-torpedo plasma flared around Traklamek’s ship, Ensign McKnight’s hands swept over the helm controls and the Enterprise raced toward Tarl’s massive vessel.

“Traklamek must have been expecting an attack, sir!” Worf said with surprise. “He is engaged in evasive maneuvers.” Picard smiled. A fortunate miscalculation on the Romulan’s part.

“He’ll be mad as hell when he figures out we aren’t going after him,” Riker said.

“Five meters!” Ensign McKnight announced.

On the screen, Picard could look directly into viewports on Tarl’s ship. The Enterprise, less than half the length of the Warbird, was now protectively nestled in the curve of the massive ship’s main dorsal and ventral hulls leading to the masklike forward bridge.

“Transporter control,” Picard said quickly, “commence emergency evacuation of Commander Tarl’s—” The viewscreen image unexpectedly rippled, and then the optical rippling continued off the viewscreen and across the bridge.

Picard stared in horror as he saw Ensign McKnight and Data flutter as if they were no more than mirages at a desert’s edge. He felt a wave of nausea flood through him as he stared down at his own hands and saw them ripple as well.

Picard spun around as the distortion continued moving through the bridge. He saw the look of shock on Worf’s face as it passed through him. And then it was gone.

Riker strode forward, eyes wide. “Data! What the hell was that?!” Data looked up from his board with the android equivalent of surprise. “It appears Commander Tarl has cloaked her vessel, sir, and that the Enterprise is close enough to have been caught in the cloaking effect. The unusual optical effect must be the result of our being on the fringe of that field.” Worf confirmed Picard’s hopes. “Captain, Traklamek’s ship appears to have lost track of us. He is using broad-beam sensor sweeps to scan the region, but is not receiving any positive feedback. I believe we are cloaked, sir.” Picard approached Riker. He could see in his first officer’s eyes that they were thinking the same thing—this was even safer than combining the two ships’ shields. “Mr. Data, lock tractor beams on Commander Tarl’s ship to maintain close contact. Mr. Worf, maintain communications silence and target Traklamek’s—” La Forge’s voice cut through the background noise of the bridge. “Engineering to Captain Picard—we’ve got an emergency situation down here!”

“Go ahead, Mr. La Forge.” ,’Captain, some kind of field distortion wave just passed through us—maybe a new Romulan weapon—but whatever it was, it’s disrupted the magnetic constriction elements of the warp core. We’re going to have to shut everything down or the computer’s going to initiate an automatic core ejection.” The last thing Picard needed was to face battle with no power lbr his warp engines, shields, or phasers. The warp core must not eject itself from the ship. “Shut it down, Mr. La Forge,” Picard ordered. “But begin immediate emergency transfer of power from the impulse propulsion reactors to shields and phaser banks.” The bridge lights flickered and dimmed as the ship’s main matter-antimatter reactor ceased operations.

“We are now in reduced-power mode,” Worf said. “Life support on reserve power. Impulse generation has begun. Full shields, phaser, and transporter capability in fifteen minutes.” “Captain,” Data said, “the plasma exhaust vented from our impulse engines will eventually provide Traklamek with the means by which to locate us.” “How long before that happens?” Picard asked.

“Provided we do not use impulse power for propulsion, we may be able to avoid detection for another three and a half minutes.” Picard’s mind raced. On the screen, he saw Traklamek’s Warbird poised at relative stop, maintaining its original distance from Tarl’s last known position. “Are the Warbirds still communicating with each other, Mr. Worf?.” “Negative, sir. Both ships are observing total communications silence.” “Any indication that Tarl is preparing to leave this position?” Data answered. “None, sir. Warp and impulse engines are in standby mode.” Picard stared at the screen. “I know what Traklamek’s waiting fOr—us. But why is Tarl still here?” “Perhaps she knows she’s protecting us with her cloaking field,” Riker suggested.

“That might be it, Number One. But if she’s expecting us to help her now, she obviously doesn’t know that field knocked out OUr warp core.”

“Two minutes, thirty seconds before detection, sir.” “Two minutes…” Picard repeated, staring at the screen in intense concentration. With only impulse engines available to her, the Enterprise couldn’t run from Traklamek’s Warbird and she couldn’t fire her phasers for another fifteen minutes. She did have torpedoes but she’d never be able to fire enough of them to penetrate Traklamek’s shields before the Romulan commander returned fire. And the Enterprise did not have enough power for her shields to withstand more than a single round of phaser fire.

The only advantage the Enterprise had right now was that she was invisible to Traklamek’s sensors. And that advantage would only last another.

“Two minutes,” Data said.

The bridge was silent, all eyes on the captain.

Picard laughed silently at himself. What was that he had just been thinking? About the ship running herself?. As good as she was, it was her crew who made the Enterprise work. And the crew that mattered most now was the occupant of the center chair.

“Considering that we can’t run,” Picard said, “can’t fight, and can’t remain hidden, and that Traklamek will never accept our surrender now that we’ve fired upon him, I am open to suggestions.” Riker was the only one who spoke. “Some of our people might escape if we launch all emergency evacuation pods at once,” he suggested grimly.

“Ninety seconds,” Data said.

Picard shook his head. “Without warp capability, Traklamek would have days to pick them off one at a time.” Data looked up from his board. “Sir, I have just conducted an exhaustive analysis of all situations similar to this in the annals of Starfleet. It appears our only chance of survival, admittedly slim, is to throw ourselves on Traklamek’s mercy.” “I know what Romulan mercy is like,” Worf snarled. “Better to die a warrior’s death in battle.” “Better not to die at all,” Picard said, and he discounted his officers’ suggestions and methodically continued to arrive at one of his own.

He told himself he was the captain of the Enterprise. Even now, with only seconds left in which to make his decision, he thought of the other vessels who had carried her name—all on the sculpted mural in his ready room. He thought of the company he kept: April, Pike, Kirk, Harriman, Garrett. They had never abandoned their ship or their crews. Picard would not either.

There/lad to be some way out he hadn’t considered. Some.

… Something deep within him spoke to him… an echo of Sarek’s mind… an echo of another mind Sarek had touched… he couldn’t be sure. But he was reminded at once that there had been other Enterprises even before the ones that plied the stars. Other captains. Other.

Picard could almost feel the wind against his face, hear the flap of the sails, smell the smoke from the cannons as the seas raged all around him.

Something in him told him to change the rules of the encounter —not to concentrate on the Enterprise’s limitations, but on Traklamek’s.

He saw the way.

Data gave the countdown. “Thirty seconds.” “Distance to Traklamek’s Warbird,” Picard said.

“Two kilometers,” Data answered.

Picard stood behind Data, put his hand on the back of the android’s chair. “Residual cloaking bleed, Mr. Data—how long does it last?” Data angled his head questioningly. “A few tenths of a second, sir.” Picard nodded. “Then ten kilometers per second should do it.

Mr. Data, transfer all power to the structural integrity field.” Data carried out the command instantly, but Riker moved to Picard’s side to swiftly question him. “All power to the SIF? We’re not in atmosphere, and without warp speed, the Enterprise doesn’t even need the SIF.” “Where we’re going,” Picard said, “we don’t need warp speed.” He looked behind him to tactical. “Mr. Worf, target the dorsal bridge spine of Traklamek’s ship. Then feed those coordinates to the helm. Now.”

Worf immediately acted as directed, without questioning his captain’s order. But Riker looked at Picard with wide eyes, at last understanding. “Captain, you can’t be serious,” he said.

“Five seconds to detection,” Data announced.

“Number One,” Picard said, “I have never been more serious in my life. Ensign McKnight—on my mark.” Then as he pointed his finger at the screen, he gave an order that had not been heard aboard an Enterprise for centuries— “Ramming speed!”

Instantly the Enterprise sprang forward, her inertial dampers protecting all aboard from the monstrous force of the 103-gravity acceleration her impulse engines could achieve. Traklamek’s Warbird didn’t have a chance.

Its defensive shields were tuned to the frequencies required to protect it from Federation phasers and photon-torpedo radiation.

At relative rest under battle conditions, its navigational shields were configured to deflect dust and debris, and to leave energy available for weapons. They would only draw more power when the ship began to move again, or when sensors picked up incoming objects.

Undoubtedly, in the ship’s last microseconds of existence, its sensors did pick up one incoming object—the 3.71-million-tonne mass of the U.S.S. Enterprise. But the residual cloaking bleed from Tarl’s cloaking field distorted the Enterprise’s sensor image and Traklamek’s computers automatically requested verification before altering the allocation of power to the shields under battle conditions. Romulan programmers had foreseen that danger might arise if shield frequencies were permitted to change in response to spurious sensor ghosts.

But even running at one billion operations per second, there was no time for confirmation of any sensor readings.