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She tried to protest, "But I don't have the information on the plasma beam"
"We don't have time for your lies!" he interrupted. "The Klingons want those specs, and they'll destroy the Enterprise now that they know we have you. If the Klingons don't attack first, another radiation burst could kill us all!" Kirk swallowed. "I just saw Specialist Galloway die. He got over 400 rads the first time, just like you. It took one more exposure to kill him."
She was clenching her arm around her stomach as she tried to sit up. "Leave! We must get away from here."
"I'll give the order as soon as you give me those specs."
Her face contorted. "You wouldn't kill your crew over blueprints for a weapon!"
"We're prepared to die to complete our mission." He wiped the sweat from his forehead, wondering how much longer he could sit upright. "If you hand over those specs now, I can guarantee the Federation will grant you asylum. All charges will be dropped."
She panted, looking up at him. "You guarantee it? Your word as a Starfleet captain?"
Kirk felt a leap of hope. "I have the jurisdiction to grant you amnesty and full immunity,"
Teral lay back down, one arm over her face. "My head is bursting... I cannot think."
"You don't have to think." Kirk stood up, stumbling forward to lean over her. 'Tell me where those specs are and you'll be safe!"
She looked up at him, her large dark eyes finally meeting his. "Very well, I will tell you how to find the data."
Yeoman Harrison knew Captain Kirk had been successful as soon as he stepped out of the brig. He seemed energized, and he shrugged off her offer to support him as he walked.
"You can take her to sickbay for cellular regeneration," Kirk ordered Kelley. "I'm going to the bridge."
Kirk left the security section and headed down the corridor with hardly a wobble.
But Harrison wasn't about to leave him until she had carried out Dr. McCoy's orders. Kirk's face was flushed, and there was a moment when he paused next to the wall and she thought he might pa.s.s out. Then he got control of himself again, and kept on walking.
In the turbolift on their way to the bridge, Kirk signaled Spock. "Send out a tone on subs.p.a.ce frequency Omega-nine. It should activate a homing beacon on a stasis sphere that is floating in the area."
"Indeed," Mister Spock replied.
"Commander Teral put the specs inside the stasis sphere."
"/ will endeavor to locate it immediately," Spock agreed.
Kirk signed off. His lips were compressed from the effort of standing up.
"Sir, if I may ask," Harrison ventured. "What did you say to Commander Teral to make her give you the information?"
Kirk just smiled. "I pointed out that she had no other reasonable choice."
Harrison was glad to see Kirk smile in spite of how sick he was. She figured she never would know what happened between him and Teral, but the result con-finned her faith in the captain's power of command.
Kirk was pleased that Yeoman Harrison stayed back as they entered the bridge. He didn't need her hovering over his command chair.
Aside from Spock, only three officers were on the bridgeDeGroodt at the engineering station, and two young officers at the helm. Yeoman Harrison hesitated, but when Kirk gestured, she took the communications station where Lieutenant Uhura usually sat.
"I have located the stasis sphere," Mr. Spock reported. "I am beaming it to the bridge."
Kirk turned just as the sphere materialized near Spock. It floated for a moment, then fell with a solid thunk to the deck.
Spock picked it up. "Ingenious. A self-contained stasis bubble that would appear invisible to any standard -level weapons scan."
Kirk's mouth felt dry, and he whispered, "Does it have the data, Spock?"
Spock scanned it with his tricorder. "The sphere contains data stored in an electromagnetic strip. It will take some time to extract the information."
Kirk swallowed, wondering how long he was going to be able to continue this. Waves of vertigo seemed to roll up and down from his head to his feet.
"Status," Kirk demanded.
"We have left the sensor shadow of the plasma storms," the helmsman reported. "The Klingon battlecruiser is 300,000 kilometers away. They are on an intercept course."
"The Tr'loth's s.h.i.+elds and weapons systems are back on-line," Spock confirmed.
Kirk hit the control to engineering. "Scotty, do we have warp drive?"
"Aye, sir," he wearily replied. "The power-up sequence is well underway. Pressure is up to 72,000 kilo-pascals. We're ironin' the timing discrepancies out now."
"Tr'loth is at 250,000 kilometers."
Kirk wished they had more time. "Spock, did you find out what caused the radiation burst?"
"Negative, Captain."
Kirk glanced briefly at the screen, where the Klingon battlecruiser could be seen lumbering closer.
Kirk wanted to stay, to be sure the stasis sphere wasn't another trick by Teral, and to find out where the radiation bursts were coming from. But he couldn't afford to start a battle with the Klingons with his crew in their present condition... and he couldn't shake the memory of McCoy's voice saying, "If we get hit again by that radiation, there's no telling how many people will die."
Kirk muttered to himself, "Sometimes you have to be content with getting away with your hull and your crew intact."
"Sir?" Harrison asked, turned to see what he wanted.
"Plot a course back to Starbase 33," he ordered. "Helm, take us out of here. Warp 4."
Kirk sat back in the command chair, watching as the Badlands slowly crossed the screen. They had not penetrated the mysteries of the ruddy plasma storms any more than they had discovered where the radiation came from. But he was certain Teral was not lying this time. The sphere contained the specs on the plasma beam weapon, and Starfleet headquarters would be pleased to get the debris from a Romulan bird-of-prey to a.n.a.lyze.
"We've completed our mission," Kirk told everyone. "We're going home."
PART 2.
Star Trek
The Next generation Stardate 45091.4 Year 2368 Immediately after "Ensign Ro"
Chapter One.
Captain picard settled himself in the command chair. It had taken most of the duty s.h.i.+ft to travel through the Badlands sector toward the plasma storms. Meanwhile the crew had prepared the shuttlecraft Hawking for its voyage into the storms.
The excitement on the bridge was building as the shuttlecraft launch approached. Though many other science vessels had investigated the infamous and dangerous Badlands, this was the first time that the Enterprise was exploring this unusual cl.u.s.ter of plasma storms.
Counselor Troi entered the bridge and walked down the ramp to the command center. She smiled at Captain Picard, no doubt able to sense his eager antic.i.p.ation of what they might discover. Thus far, Starfleet vessels had barely penetrated the plasma storms, which remained a tantalizing mystery.
Deanna Troi seated herself next to Picard. "Did I make it in time?"
"We are preparing to launch." Picard thought she looked quite striking, wearing a royal blue dress and matching headband to hold back her thick black curls. She often wore clothes from her own wardrobe rather than her uniform, a choice that might bother Picard if another officer did the same. But Counselor Troi said it made it easier for the crewmembers to open up to her when they weren't constantly reminded that she was their superior officer, and Picard saw her point.
The image of the Badlands grew larger, bleeding off the edge of the viewscreen. The plasma formed swirling reddish clouds that spread through a vast region of s.p.a.ce, an area that would normally be occupied by several solar systems.
Picard enjoyed scientific and research missions. They had been ordered to perform a thorough survey of sector 21305, commonly known as the Badlands sector. Picard was intrigued by the question of how this unique phenomenon had been created, and also what fueled the continuous energy in the plasma storms. It would take an incredible amount of power to sustain the ionization of all that matter.
"Are there any other vessels in the area?" Picard asked Worf.
"None, sir," replied Worf, his Klingon Chief of Security.
"Good. Take us into the sensor shadow of the Badlands," Picard ordered.
"Heading three-one-four mark two," Ensign Ro Laren confirmed.
They had already sent sensor probes into the plasma storms, with few results. The distortion and interference in telemetry caused by the plasma made it difficult to receive sensor data. Yet the Enterprise couldn't actually go into the Badlands because plasma tended to clog the plasma grid, the part of warp drive responsible for power conversion levels.
However, earlier surveys had confirmed that a much smaller vessel, such as a shuttlecraft, could safely venture into the plasma storms under impulse power. Picard had a.s.signed his first officer, Will Riker, and Commander Data to take the Hawking into the Badlands.
"Picard to shuttlecraft Hawking. Are you prepared to depart?"
"Aye, sir," Commander Riker responded from the hanger deck. "Shuttlecraft Hawking is ready to go."
"On course for dropoff point, sir," Ensign Ro reported.
Picard acknowledged, leaning his chin on his hand. Ensign Ro Laren was a new addition to his crew. The Bajoran had a.s.sisted in their last mission, to seek out Bajoran terrorists who were attacking the Carda.s.sian colonies along the border.
The seemingly simple mission had been complicated by a conspiracy at the top levels of Starfleet. Admiral Kennelly was now in custody, undergoing a hearing regarding his covert a.s.sistance to the Carda.s.sians. Apparently, the admiral had tried to destroy a powerful group of Bajoran rebels.
Captain Picard had already submitted his testimony regarding the incident to Starfleet Command. He knew that Ro Laren had not yet submitted her report, and he would have to remind her at s.h.i.+ft change to do so. She was a key witness, since Admiral Kennelly had covertly ordered Ro to offer weapons to the Bajoran terrorists. It was part of Kennelly's plan to lure the terrorists out where the Carda.s.sians could attack them.
The Carda.s.sians were bound to be displeased that Starfleet had backed Captain Picard's decision to protect the Bajoran terrorists. The Carda.s.sians also wouldn't benefit from the public disciplinary hearings against Admiral Kennelly. The fragile truce with the Carda.s.sian Empire was only two years old, and anything could turn them into adversaries again. The first Federation-Carda.s.sian war had been long and b.l.o.o.d.y. Most Starfleet officers had tangled with the Carda.s.sians hi recent memory.
Picard thought it would be in their best interest to avoid Carda.s.sian contact on this survey mission. But the Carda.s.sian border was in the neighboring sector. Anything could happen, which was why Starfleet had sent the Enterprise rather than a smaller science s.h.i.+p to perform the survey.
First, the Enterprise had completed an initial survey of the Badlands sector. It had taken several days to circle the sector and perform an initial scan of the solar systems and celestial phenomena, including the corkscrew Kamiat Nebula.
They had picked up several small vessels on long-range sensors, but had never come within hailing range.
Ensign Ro suggested that they could be Bajoran terrorists, who typically used the Badlands as a place to hide from Carda.s.sian wars.h.i.+ps. The smaller vessels had avoided the Enterprise, disappearing soon after they were detected.
"Approaching dropoff point," Ensign Ro reported.
"Very well," Picard acknowledged. "Slow to one-quarter impulse power."
"Aye, Captain."
Picard stood up. The complications of galactic politics could be intriguing at times, but he was glad this was primarily an exploration mission.
He smiled slightly. "Shuttlecraft Hawking, this is Captain Picard. You are cleared for departure."
Commander Riker waited until the flight-deck officer confirmed clearance before responding, "Affirmative. Departure sequence initiated."
"Impulse engines on-line," Data confirmed.
"Engaging thrusters." Riker grinned at Data. He enjoyed piloting the shuttlecraft. The flight controller was a hands-on system, unlike the conn of the Enterprise.
The shuttlecraft lifted smoothly, then turned. Two other shuttles were parked on the opposite side of the enormous bay. Riker aimed the nose of the Hawking at the wide mouth of the hanger.
'Tractor beam locking on," Data noted.
Riker usually arranged with the flight officer on duty to be allowed to pilot the shuttle out of the hanger without using the precision short-range tractor beam. His pilot rating was high enough for him to perform a manual launch.
But Lieutenant Aston was a stickler for procedure. Since he had been promoted to flight officer he'd refused every one of Riker's requests for a manual launch. It was one of those situations where the commander was sorely tempted to pull rank, but his sense of honor wouldn't allow it.
Still, Riker had been standing rather close to Aston this time when he made his request. To be fair, he had only realized what he was doing when Aston cleared his throat and looked up nervously before denying his request.
As the shuttle was pa.s.sively conveyed through the shuttlebay hanger doors, Riker replayed the incident in his mind. He knew Deanna would scold him for using his tall stature to try to intimidate Aston, even if it was subconscious. So he figured he wouldn't tell her. He would just be more careful next time.
Ri ker took the controls, ready for the tractor to disengage. "I've got the helm," he told Data. Either of the two forward panels could control the shuttle, but Data was preparing to conduct the sensor scans inside the plasma storms.
Riker opened a channel to the Enterprise. "Shuttlecraft Hawking to the Enterprise. Proceeding toward the Badlands at full impulse."
"Acknowledged," Captain Picard replied.
The closer they drew to their targeted entry point, the rougher the ride became. The Badlands began to stretch overhead tens of thousands of kilometers away.
In front of them, the leading edge of the ma.s.s was glowing orange, red, and pink, with streamers of plasma continuously rippling into normal s.p.a.ce. Discharges along the edge flickered like lightning inside a storm cloud, reflecting gold through the ionized plasma. Other parts of the storm were shadowed, as if denser than the rest of the ma.s.s.