Star Trek: TNG Indstinguishable From Magic (11 page)

“What about your own family?”

“Orphan.”

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.” Family was everything, as far as Ferengi were concerned. If you didn’t have family, how did you learn to negotiate and do business? Exploitation, after all, began at home. “I wonder if the captain would let me put a guard on him.”

“Somehow I doubt it. Innocent until proven guilty, and all that.”

“Elevator resume. Deck ten.”

“Nelson’s?”

“Where else?”

“Good thinking. Promotion material. Wish I wasn’t still on duty.”

The turbolift deposited Nog a short distance from Nelson’s, before taking Hunt back up to the bridge. Even
though it was now packed, it was a long-held tradition that the senior staff would be afforded seats, and Nog quickly found his way to the table at one end of the windows, where Commander La Forge was sitting with Qat’qa and Barclay. Qat’qa saw Nog and beckoned him over, then turned to whisper something in the ear of the nearest seated junior officer.

Said junior officer leapt to his feet and slid the chair across before disappearing into the standing throng. “We saved a seat for you,” Qat’qa said.

“Thanks.”

“If you studied engineering, how did you come to be a security chief?” Qat’qa asked.

“It was the position that was open. I’d been a ground pounder in the Dominion War, and chief engineer on Deep Space 9. Now when the chief engineer slot opens up on
Challenger,
I’ll apply.”

La Forge understood. “It happens that way on a lot of Starfleet ships,” he said to Qat’qa. “When I first joined the
Enterprise,
it was as flight controller, because that was the slot I was rated for. After a year, the chief engineer position became available.”

“What made you want to become a starfleet engineer?” the Klingon asked.

“That’s really two different questions,” Nog said.

“It is?”

“I wanted to join Starfleet because of the officers I got to know on DS9, mainly Chief O’Brien and Captain Sisko. When I saw the things they did, and the way they worked together, for a greater good . . . I wanted to do that too. It’s a sort of project that’s inside, and feels good. Engineering . . . I always had a talent for it, like my dad.”

“Your father’s an engineer?”

“He was.”

“Was? Oh, he’s not—”

“No, no . . . I didn’t mean that. He was an engineer on Deep Space 9. Now he’s . . .” Nog looked a little embarrassed. “Well, he changed jobs. He’s not an engineer any more.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“It’s a shame, because he was really, really good at it. I mean, he never had any formal training, he just learned as he went along. But he had a natural talent, an instinct.”

“Innate talents are things to cherish,” Qat’qa proclaimed.

“Absolutely.”

“So why did he give it up?”

“Circumstances changed. It’s a long story.”

A
s the
Challenger
entered the Agni Cluster, Tyler Hunt was pulling a double shift, to ensure that every department was ready for the job it would have with regard to the
Intrepid,
and to ensure that those departments not involved didn’t lose any productivity on their own projects. Most people showed signs of strain when they pulled such a long shift, but Hunt actually lived for it.

Scotty fell into step beside him as he walked, and Hunt slowed down slightly, to keep step with the older man’s pace. “Captain.”

“What’s up, Tyler?”

“I’ve arranged a schedule for away teams to the
Intrepid.”
He handed Scotty a padd with the details. “Starfleet was pretty clear about making sure the remains
of the crew are taken care of before any other work begins.”

Scotty gave an approving nod. “And rightly so.”

“I agree, we need to take things slowly and with respect.” Hunt looked relieved. “I was kind of afraid that you’d want to push on ahead.”

“Don’t worry, Mister Hunt. Respect for the past isn’t something I’m likely to disregard.”

“Aye, sir. Sorry, I wasn’t thinking about it from that angle.”

“So, what’s your schedule?”

“Doctor Ogawa has assembled a medical forensics team to recover the remains of the crew, and bring it back to the
Challenger
to be separated out into individuals. Barclay and I have checked over the stasis units and their separator modules, and they’re perfect for the job. Starbase 410 have done us proud, actually.”

“What did ye expect from Q’Hap? Call a meeting of the senior staff in the briefing room for twelve hundred. I want to go over the status of the
Intrepid
before we reach her.”

“Aye, sir.”

Scotty preferred to be in engineering when he could get away with it, but that was disappointingly infrequent these days. There were too many responsibilities as captain for him to be down there as often as he liked.

Since the ship could be controlled from the master systems console in engineering, he had been tempted, when he took command of the ship, to move everything to there. Back on the old
Enterprise,
with Jim Kirk, he had been able to tell the state of the ship by the vibrations from the deck plates. On a
Galaxy
-class ship, he couldn’t, but he could tell how healthy the engines were from the sound the warp
core made, just the way a doctor could listen to a person’s heartbeat if there were no medical tricorders around.

At least he could sit by the bridge’s engineering station, and keep an eye on things from there. He was pleased by what he saw, and could tell that Vol was doing him proud. A chronometer chimed on the display, reminding him that it was time for the briefing.

Scotty settled into the chair at the end of the briefing room table, which was, to his mind, the most comfortable chair in any of the ship’s working areas. Perhaps it wasn’t as comfortable as his favorite chair in his quarters, but it was a damn sight better for his back than the center seat on the bridge.

He cast a look around at the people gathering round the table. On his left, in front of a wall displaying models of previous vessels named
Challenger,
were Tyler Hunt, then Nog and Ogawa. On his right, sitting by the curved windows that looked out on one of the cluster’s orange suns, were Leah, Geordi, Barclay, and Qat’qa. Vol sat at the far end of the table. “Mister La Forge,” Scotty began, “you’ve been on
Intrepid,
so how would ye describe the state of the ship?”

“The hull is more or less intact, barring a few punctures, and the interior has been left as it was on the day she was lost. The thing that throws a spanner into any normal salvage plan is that, physically, the structure of the ship is a couple of thousand years old, not a couple of hundred.”

“That’s impossible,” Barclay protested. “Unless someone was building NX-class ships before we did.”

Alyssa Ogawa shook her head, and tapped the padd that was in front of her on the table. “I’ve got Doctor Crusher’s report here. The DNA analysis of some of the
organic matter coating the interior surfaces matches known medical records of a number of her crew. It’s definitely the
Intrepid
which was lost in 2161.”

“Could it have traveled back through time?” Vol asked. “Something like what happened to the
Columbia
.”

Hunt shrugged. “Maybe, but surely it would have been found before.”

“Space is pretty big, and the ship pretty small. It was pure chance that the
Enterprise
detected it,” La Forge reminded them.

“Aye, there is that,” Scotty said. “But Leah and I have had a wee chat about this, and run some numbers.” He touched a control set into the tabletop, and a holographic display sprang to life in the air above the center of the table. It showed a standard illustration of a gravity well as a weight dragging down the center of a rubber sheet. “Everybody knows time runs slower at the bottom of a gravity well.”

“Starfleet Medical uses the effect quite extensively when stasis fields can’t be used,” Alyssa said with a nod. “A few hours for the patient near a suitable gravity well can give his doctors weeks, or even months, to prepare his treatment.”

Leah spoke up. “Exactly, and what
Intrepid
encountered was the reverse of that effect.”

“Gravity can only get as low as zero,” Nog pointed out. “Even what we call negative
g
s are just gravity pulling a change of direction. How can it reach such negative numbers to have an effect like this?”

Scotty leaned forward. “It canna, in normal space.”

“I sense a ‘but’ coming,” Hunt said.

“But . . . in some of the quantum slipstream experiments, we found that slipstream matrices intersectin’ a gravity well in subspace sometimes created the opposite or the reflection of a well.”

“A gravity peak?” Barclay asked.

“Right. We’ve nicknamed it a subspace gravity spike.” Leah leaned forward and adjusted the hologram. The ghostly image came to life, stretching upward in a mirror-image of the gravity well. “An object at the peak of the gravity spike will experience
accelerated
time.”

“In the case of
Intrepid,
two millennia . . .” La Forge nodded understandingly.

“Exactly,” Brahms said. “And if we project a course between where she was lost, and later found, I’m willing to bet we’ll find a large gravity well at some point, probably closer to her original position than here. But that’s not the real mystery. This effect was discovered during the development of the slipstream drive. And it happened to
Intrepid
two hundred years earlier.”

La Forge froze, his features settling into a granite mask. “There were no slipstream drive experiments in the twenty-second century.”

Scotty grunted. “Not by any known Alpha Quadrant species. Nobody had technology at that level back then . . .” he said, pausing for emphasis, “that we know of.”

“But there are a lot of people we don’t know . . .”

“Ye’ve hit the nail on the head, Geordi. That’s what Starfleet is interested in, and that’s why they sent
Challenger.”
Scotty cleared his throat. “Where did
Intrepid
originally disappear?”

“In the vicinity of star system G-231,” Qat’qa reported.

“That’s a fair distance from here,” Hunt pointed out.

“About four hundred light-years.” Leah tapped a point on the display, which obligingly wobbled and flashed. “I thought as much. On the other side of the black hole in the Bolus Reach. It’s only about six parsecs from G-231.”

“It could never have drifted so far,” Hunt said, “even
in two thousand years. It would take millions of years for an object to drift even the tiniest fraction of that distance.”

“I agree,” La Forge said. “But it didn’t. It would be nice to know how.”

“And what about afterwards?” Nog asked. “Are you suggesting that
Intrepid
somehow negotiated its way through a black hole, and out the other side? That’s insane.”

“The ship’s existence is insane,” Vol countered. “The gravitational stresses should have torn her apart.”

“Perhaps Starfleet built them out of sterner stuff in those days,” Qat’qa said facetiously.

“No, lass,” Scotty said, “they didn’t. The NX-class was ancient history when I was chief engineer on the
Enterprise,
but we still had all the blueprints on file.”

“We still do, actually,” Leah reminded him.

“Aye, but in those days we still read through the old files now and again. There were enough old ships still around, dating that far back, that we might run into.”

“Not so much nowadays,” Barclay said.

“Not with twenty-second century ships, but Starfleet was still using the old
Miranda
- and
Oberth
-class ships until a decade ago, and they were from my era. And the
Hood
is still in service, isn’t she?” Scotty asked.

“Yes. And private owners can run ships of any age, if they can prove they’re spaceworthy,” Vol stated.

Barclay nodded. “And the Klingons still use the
B’rel-
class Bird-of-Prey, and there are a few
K’t’ingas
left in service.”

La Forge sat back, staring at the hologram. “The
Intrepid
couldn’t have flown through a black hole. It’s physically impossible to survive falling into the singularity . . .”

“Unless it’s a rotating black hole,” Barclay suggested,
“and they somehow managed to orbit the singularity and slingshot back out.”

“Impossible,” Leah said flatly.

“Similar things have happened,” La Forge said.

“Aye, lad,” Scotty said with a grin, “the old
Enterprise
that I served on survived two slingshots round a black star, but that was only Warlock Station’s Type 3 singularity, not something with the gravitational power of a true black hole.”

“But if their orbit was far enough out?” asked Barclay.

“Which it couldna be, lad. You’re forgetting the big differences between the
Connie
-class and the NX-class: Firstly, the materials the
Intrepid
is constructed of wouldn’t have survived the torsional stresses, and nor, for that matter, would warp five be quick enough to get the job done. Secondly, and even more importantly, the crew of the
Enterprise
were alive and at their posts, whereas the crew of the
Intrepid
were already all dead.”

“Do we know that for a fact?” asked Qat’qa.

“That’s what my forensic technicians will attempt to confirm,” Ogawa said. “The walls will speak for themselves.”

“I appreciate that the crew died instantly due to a catastrophic failure of the inertial dampeners. What I’m asking is whether that failure couldn’t have been caused by the slingshot effect. You did just say, sir,” Barclay said, “that
Intrepid
couldn’t have taken the stresses of such a maneuver. And we know that something gave.”

“I didn’t just say her systems couldna have taken the strain, Mister Barclay; I said the materials she was built out of couldn’t. Her actual frame and hull would have broken up like an eggshell in a food blender. No, the
Intrepid
did not fly through a black hole.” Scotty paused for a moment,
thinking about the state of the ship they were about to visit. It was old, it was fragile, but it could still be made to get back up and running again. It sounded like himself, and the thought amused him. “All right, so when we arrive, the engineering team wants to be looking for signs of having encountered a subspace gravity inversion, and slipstream. That sounds like a good place to start, so I’ll leave it up to all you to get it seen to.” He stood. “I’ll be seeing if I can arrange a look at G-231 while we’re at it.”