Part I: History Never Forgets
2333 - The Leronti Nebula
The inertial compensators had finally given out by the time the Enterprise-B had reached the nebula. As the ship veered to port Captain Lury was almost thrown from the command chair.
'That’s it, no further,' he said. The smell of acrid smoke from a smouldering console behind him caught the back of his throat. He coughed out the words, 'helm, all stop.'
'Helm not responding sir,' replied Ronson after a few seconds. The helmsman was also desperately trying to stay in his seat as the Enterprise rolled around an axis that was drifting further and further away from the ship's centreline.
'Number one, give the order to abandon ship,' Lury rasped to his first officer.
Lury watched Egan clamber over the piles of computer components and bundles of optical cables that were slithering around on the deck. Most of the access panels on the bridge had been ripped off to give access to the many systems that were malfunctioning, but trying to trace the cause of all the faults was becoming impossible. Egan almost fell as the ship shuddered to a halt.
The reaction control thrusters had started working temporarily, but were no longer responding to Ronson's inputs in a predictable way. Lury could now feel the vast inertia of his vessel the same way that spacefarers of old had; through the seat of his pants. As the forward thrusters fired the aft section of the ship kept going, sending the Enterprise into a cartwheel that made Lury want to throw up.
Egan gave the order to abandon ship to what remained of the crew, then opened the starboard hatch to the Jefferies tube.
'Sir, without stabilising the ship it's going to make it almost impossible to launch a shuttle,' he warned.
'Don’t worry,' said Lury, 'we’ve got the best helmsman in the fleet haven't we?' He looked at Ronson, who was attempting to stand up, and managed a slight smile. The usual good humour of the crew had been the last thing to go. There hadn't just been one catastrophe in the past few hours but a whole series of them. Most of engineering had been taken out by an explosion and whole sections of the ship had been exposed to space when the airlocks had decided to open themselves.
Ronson pulled himself into the tube feet first, then Egan moved towards the Captain. Lury grabbed the railing behind the captain’s chair.
'Computer, initiate auto-destruct sequence. Authorisation Lury-Alpha-One-One-Alpha-Zero.' There was a string of garbled nonsense from the computer, punctuated by a burst of ear-splitting pops and bleeps. 'Secondary?' Lury asked Egan.
'We don't even have enough anti-matter on board to rig an explosion. We lost that when we dumped the warp core.'
'Are you sure our final message was transmitted?' Lury sighed. Egan nodded. 'Well, it’s a big nebula. Let’s just hope she's found by the right people.'
Two Years Later...
Rachel Garrett stared at the portrait of her predecessor hanging on the wall of the conference room. There were oil paintings of all her previous incumbents. Archer, April, Pike, Kirk and on, all the way around to the opposite wall where Harriman and Sulu hung. The last portrait was of Lury. All the others were just names from history, but Garrett knew Merdin Lury. He’d taught her at the academy and he'd visited her a couple of times when she’d been stationed on Qo’nos and he'd brought the Enterprise-B to show the flag. Lury and his ship had been missing for two years now, and Garrett had pulled every favour she had to find out what mission he'd been on when he disappeared, but she always came up against the same brick wall.
The door behind her slid open and the heavy footsteps of her first officer thudded towards the end of the conference table. Commander Peter McLeran had only been in the job for a month, but she was already beginning to like him.
'Bad news,' he said as he sat down. McLeran's Scottish accent was barely noticeable through the smooth and confident tone that he’d cultivated over the years. Garrett found the way he spoke almost hypnotic. She liked to think that his real accent came back to him on those few rare visits that he made to Glasgow, back on Earth. 'Your chief medical officer is off the list,' McLeran said. He slid one of the PADDs he was carrying across the table's smooth surface.
Garrett collected the tablet and read the list of names that McLeran had highlighted. Her eyes darted past the names, some highlighted in green, others in light blue, until she saw the name of her chief medical officer lit up in bright yellow. 'The good news is, I have a replacement,' McLeran drawled. 'I'll transmit the request as soon as we're out of radio silence. With your permission of course, Captain.' McLeran was over a decade older than she was and he was well past the point in his career when he had to refuse offers to take the command chair. If not for Garrett he would have retired, but she'd offered him a position that that nobody else had been able to fill.
'Friend of yours?' Garrett asked. She tapped open the profile of the new candidate.
'As a matter of fact, she is.' The slight slurring of his 's' was a running joke with the rest of the crew. The communications officer had already perfected his impersonation of McLeran. Garrett caught herself smiling, and McLeran grinned back at her. 'Was there something else, Captain?' She put her head to one side and raised an eyebrow.
'Maybe I’m the problem?' She asked. McLeran squirmed in his seat a little.
'Well, actually that wasn't what I said.' The Captain walked to the opposite end of the long table.
'Oh no, that's exactly what you said.' Garrett tried to sound angrier than she really was.
'What I said was, "have you considered the possibility that you are the problem?"' Garrett liked the fact that McLeran delivered the question just as forcefully the second time. She went over to the replicator and ordered a black coffee.
'The answer to your question is, yes, I have,' said Garrett. A steaming hot mug rippled into existence and Garrett gestured towards the machine. McLeran waved his hand to decline her offer. 'I requested you for this assignment because of what you were able to do with the crew of the Hathaway, and your work on starbase fourteen. You have a talent for group dynamics.'
McLeran realised that he had come to the meeting totally unprepared to defend himself against compliments.
'And if you are the problem?' McLeran asked. Garrett looked again at the portraits on the wall.
'I didn't ask for the Enterprise,' said Garrett. 'There were plenty of people who told me not to take it.'
'Anyone who can earn the respect of the Klingons deserves their reputation,' McLeran replied. Garrett shook her head.
'Politics.' A beep from the intercom lit up the console set into the end of the conference table. It was the navigator.
'Captain, we're approaching the designated co-ordinates.'
The code forty-seven transmission had come in three hours ago. An encrypted communication intended for her eyes only. The message contained instructions for a comms blackout and a set of temporal coordinates; giving both a precise location and time for their arrival. Garrett didn't know what this was all about, but based on nature of message she was sure she wasn't going to like it.
Garrett took her place on the bridge in silence. McLeran followed behind and tried to get more information on the sector they were in, but there wasn't any. This part of the galaxy was about as empty as you could get, not close to any star systems, shipping lanes or patrol routes. The perfect place for an ambush, or worse; the prelude to a clandestine operation by Starfleet Intelligence. The message and this meeting place had their sticky fingerprints all over it. Garrett had previous experience of that malign institution that had grown along with the Federation as it had entered its expansionist phase.
When the Enterprise dropped out of warp Garrett ordered,
'helm, all stop. Station keeping.' A few seconds later Ensign junior grade Castillo reported,
'Answering all stop, Captain.' Then the tactical officer said,
'Picking up a ship, sir. It's approaching our position at warp nine."
"It's the USS Ambassador," said McLeran, who was looking over Lieutenant Commander Daker's right shoulder.
'Have the transporter room standing by,' Garrett ordered, before a blue-white flash lit up the viewscreen.
The elongated outline of a ship smeared itself across the screen, then the USS Ambassador made a hard turn to starboard. She briefly sideslipped towards the Enterprise and then presented its aft section to them. It fired all of its thrusters to null its rate and then spat out a tiny shuttlecraft.
'Maintain transporter lock and open the main shuttlebay,' said Garrett. 'Clear all personnel,' She looked around for her lowest-ranking officer and her eyes settled again on Castillo. 'Go down and bring the craft in,' she told him.
'Sir,' Castillo replied smartly, and walked over to the turbolift.
When Garrett looked back at the viewscreen the Ambassador was already engaging its warp engines, in fact it hadn't fully shut them down. The tiny shuttlecraft was making good headway, but was barely clear of the warp field when the Ambassador lurched forward and stretched to infinity. She could see the shuttle struggling to maintain its course as the wake of the warp field dispersed over it, but whoever the pilot was they had good reflexes.
'Someone's putting on quite a show for us,' said McLeran.
'If this is who I think it is, then the show hasn't even begun,' said Garrett.
* * *
For Richard Castillo the trip down to the shuttlebay was a welcome break from the dull routine of the bridge; even if it did mean minding his manners with some ambassador or admiral. Castillo had hoped that life aboard the Enterprise would be as exciting as the name had promised, but the last year or so had been fairly uneventful. The seemingly endless crew changes had been getting more frequent recently and each time a new batch of officers was replaced he'd anxiously expected his name to be on the list with them. Since joining the ship out of the academy he'd served under three different first officers, and the ship had only been in service for two years. Captain Garrett seemed friendly towards him, and being one of the longest serving officers he'd tried to establish some kind of relationship with her, but she was difficult to get to know. She always seemed distant somehow; distracted by something that she didn't want to talk about. Making friends with the other officers had been equally fruitless, what with most of them having left.
The crew who had been manning the shuttlebay were all standing out in the corridor when Castillo arrived. Most of them were enlisted crew, but there were two officers, both more senior than him. Castillo squared up to the lieutenant in charge.
'The Captain sent me down to meet our guests,' he informed her. She said nothing, and simply keyed in the code to open the door. Beyond was the wide expanse of the hangar deck. Castillo stepped inside then turned around to the lieutenant.
'You're all dismissed.'
The giant clamshell doors at the rear of the Enterprise were fully open and he could just about make out the small craft approaching. He climbed up the ladder to the control room and made a quick safety check to make sure all of the tractor beams and emitters were online and the autodocking system was tracking the shuttle. That was when he noticed that the shuttle wasn't sending out a transponder signal. He checked the reciever was working, then looked again, but by now the craft had already entered the control zone, and she was coming in hot.
The lock-on beam continued to look for the signal as the shuttle flew through the forcefield and into the bay. For one awful instant he thought that it had suffered a control loss and he was about to hit the crash alarm when it banked around one side of the hangar and bled off all of its forward momentum with a quick-stop manoeuvre. He caught a glimpse of the girl behind the controls as the nose of the craft pitched up; her expression one of total concentration. The shuttlecraft touched down below him in one fluid movement as he set the hangar doors to close and slid down ladder.
The clamshell doors still hadn't completely sealed off the compartment by the time he'd reached the shuttle. Castillo saw the stars stretching out as the Enterprise went to warp. The passengers of the Turing were already climbing out of the door at the side of the shuttle. It was a heavily modified type five shuttle and wasn't assigned to the Ambassador. In fact it had no registry at all, which accounted for the fact that there had been no transponder signal to pick up. The young woman stepping out of it was a Lieutenant Commander and wore a dark green undershirt of the intelligence and security division. She had dark hair that was tied up on top of her head and a bright smile. The other occupant of the craft was a Vulcan male wearing the rank of Commodore. Castillo stood to attention.
'Lieutenant Commander Marta Batanides reporting,' the girl announced. 'Permission to come aboard.' Castillo wondered what they'd do if he said no, but the idea quickly vanished when he looked up at the Vulcan.
'Of course, permission granted,' said Castillo, rather absently. He didn't know what protocol he was supposed to follow, but since the Commodore hadn't yet introduced himself he continued speak to Batanides. 'Captain Garrett has instructed me to escort you both to the bridge.'
The task seemed entirely unnecessary since they'd just come from the sister ship of the Enterprise, so Castillo assumed they'd be able to find the bridge on their own. There was a lot of tradition and etiquette surrounding the hosting of dignitaries and flag officers, most of which Castillo had never paid too much attention to. The Commodore hadn't complained so far; in fact he hadn't said a word since he'd come aboard.
'I didn't catch your name, Ensign,' said Batanides as they stood in the turbolift.
'Richard Castillo,' he said. 'Helmsman.' Batanides simply smiled at him. 'Nice flying by the way."
'Thanks,' Batanides smirked
* * *
When the turbolift doors opened behind him McLeran looked around and announced,
'Commodore on the bridge.' Garrett seemed to tense up, her mouth drawn straight in an attempt to hide her true feelings for the man. There was histroy between them, that was clear, but McLeran didn't know what.
'Shall we get straight to the mission briefing, Commodore,' said Garrett. Commodore Varen nodded and the pair walked together through the door to the conference room. Castillo resumed his seat at the helm, leaving Batanides standing alone. McLeran walked across to her.
'I'll have quarters assigned to you and the Commodore, Commander.' Batanides smiled and nodded, then headed for the tactical station.
McLeran watched as Lieutenant Commander Carolina Daker briefed Batanides on the current status of the ship's sensors, shields and weapons systems. Batanides listened, but made no comment. When Daker had finished Batanides stayed at tactical and kept looking at the door to the conference room, as though she was waiting for something to happen. She didn't have to wait long. The Captain walked through the door with a look of grim determination on her face. The Commodore followed and his expression was as inscrutable as ever.
'Computer, initiate protocol Varen-Sigma. Authorisation Varen-one-six-five-sigma,' said Varen. At first nothing seemed to happen, then several bridge stations blanked out or shut down. A number of officers found themselves sitting or standing in front of inoperative consoles. 'Those of you with disabled stations will now leave,' Varen said. Several bridge officers looked towards McLeran, who looked at Captain Garrett, but if she had an explanation she didn't offer it to him.
McLeran counted off nine crewmembers as they filed into the two turbolifts that served the bridge. That left five officers, including himself.
'Would anybody like to tell me what's going on?' said McLeran.
'This is my first officer, Commander McLeran,' Garrett said to Varen. 'Right about now he's probably wondering how he's supposed to run a ship with three people.'
'Myself and Commander Batanides will run the mission, you and your crew will be assigned to run the ship,' Varen explained.
'So you're not relieving me of command?' Garrett asked.
'No, Captain.' Batanides strolled from tactical to the navigation console and sat down next to Castillo. She entered a set of co-ordinates and looked across to the Ensign to make sure he'd received the new course and heading.
Part II: Yesterday's Enterprise
The rec room was so full that Castillo couldn’t find anywhere to sit. At a stroke Varen's protocols had relieved hundreds of personnel of duty, and he could see now from the representative sample before him which departments had been the most affected. Anything to do with sensors, computers and communications had been the primary focus it seemed. Operations had been similarly whittled down to the bare minimum to keep the Enterprise running.
Castillo saw the officers who'd been on the bridge lined up at the bar on the other side of the room fought his way through the crowd towards them. As he passed each group he caught a snippets of their conversation. Some thought that Ambassador Spock had been brought aboad, others that this was a secret mission deep into Romulan space. Someone from stellar cartography let slip that they'd been heading out of Federation space before the sensors were shut down.
When Castillo did reach the bar he was dismayed to find that there was only one person serving drinks. Daker was perched on a bar stool, with the navigation officer on one side of her and the chief science officer on the other. She leaned back and reached out her arm to pull Castillo into her little group.
'I hope you're not going to ask me what happened after you left,' Castillo told her. 'I have strict instructions to tell you nothing.'
'So, what did happen after I left?' Daker asked.
'Nothing,' said Castillo. Daker whispered something into Lieutenant Samerkiv's ear and the science officer left his seat and offered it to Castillo.
The bartender seemed to sense the change of personnel and appeared in front of Castillo to take his order. Daker waited until he'd recieved his synthale and had taken a good swig of it before she resumed her interrogation.
'Did you see Garrett's face when she came out of the conference room?'
'Sorry, I was too busy flying the ship, remember?' said Castillo.
'You think they've got history?' asked Daker. Castillo kept drinking. 'Her and Varen I mean?'
'How should I know that?' said Castillo.
'That girl who's with him, she's with Intelligence isn't she?' Daker asked.
'You know what the trouble is with you, Carolina?' Castillo said. 'You don't know how to relax.' Daker put her hand on his upper thigh and stood up.
'Just concentrate on your job, mister.'
Castillo set his glass down on the bar as Max the bartender rushed by, trying to serve the next six people who'd walked up to the bar. Everyone looked out of the forward viewports as the Enterprise came out of warp. Before them was the swirling gas and dust of a nebula. It was a deep red and purple and was illuminated by some star deep within it. The names of known nebulae were rapidly reeled off, but like the rumours of a few minutes before, each suggestion was dismissed for one reason or another.
'I know where we are,' Max said.
'How would you know?' Castillo asked.
'I haven't always been a bartender,' Max replied, then he greeted someone who'd just walked up behind Castillo and Daker.
'Don't tell them anymore, please,' Batanides said in serious tone.
Lieutenant Commander Batanides turned to face the room and announced,
'This area is now off limits. Everyone return to your quarters.' There was a groan from the assembled crew, but nobody dared to disobey. Daker and Castillo waited for the room to clear, all the while watching the ship creep closer to the nebula. Castillo wondered who was piloting the ship in his absence.
'Where are we?' Castillo asked Batanides.
'Sorry, Ensign, that's classified.' she replied. 'You're needed on the bridge.' Castillo straightened up and reattached the flap on the front of his uniform jacket, which had been hanging loose since he'd gone off duty. Daker started off towards the door, but Batanides stopped her. 'Not you, Commander. Sorry, someone should have told you.'
'Sir?' Daker replied.
'You're relieved for the moment. I'll be taking over at tactical until further notice.' Daker took a couple more steps through the door then stood there deciding which way she was going to go.
'I'd recommend you get some sleep, Commander. We might need you on the bridge again later.' Daker gave Batandies a nod before heading off in the direction of the gym.
* * *
When Castillo arrived on the bridge he saw Garrett, Varen and McLeran crowded around the science monitor. Batanides went to join them, while Castillo went straight to the helm to check that the ship was still on course; it wasn't. The Enterprise had drifted from its course, pulled by the drag of the nebula. The difference was only a couple of degrees, but they hadn't even got to the outer edge yet. Castillo knew he was going to have his work cut out for him when they got inside, if that was where they were going.
'Commander Batanides, initiate the search routine,' said Commodore Varen. Garrett took her seat and McLeran stayed at the science station with Batanides.
'Helm, ahead one quarter impulse," the captain ordered. Castillo reduced speed and felt the drag on the ship get a little smoother.
By the time they were inside the nebula Castillo was cursing the Enterprise and her controls. The shape of the vessel was not compatible with operating in a viscous medium; the saucer section acted like a wing that constantly tried to pull the ship up and the aft section had virtually no lateral stability. He had to fight every second to keep her from turning and spinnig, and none of the trim settings would hold for more than a few seconds as the density of the cloud constantly changed. Occassionally the ship would hit a pocket of clear space and lurch in whichever direction the controls were pointing. In these moments Castillo would have to swiftly reset everything. He knew he'd become the most hated person on the ship now, and could only imagine what names the crew were calling him.
Castillo's arms began to ache and sweat started dripping from his brow. He didn't know how long he could keep this up, and there was no end in sight. The ship had no course set and he was flying blind. They could be metres away from an asteroid or a ship and they'd never see it. What instruments he had were either fluctuating wildly or showing him nothing at all.
'Shields down to twenty-percent,' reported Batanides over his left shoulder. 'Sensors are no longer functioning, attempting to compensate.'
'How are we supposed to find anything in this soup?' Garrett protested.
'Everything is as I anticipated, Captain,' Varen said. 'Commander, begin the modifications to the navigational deflector.' Castillo threw up his hands in despair as the remaining guides to the ship's speed and position were cut and his helm console became inoperable.
'Castillo, report. What’s the problem?' Garrett walked over to the helm.
'I don't know where I am or where I'm going, Captain. Right now I couldn't even tell you which way we're pointed.'
Garrett exhaled, exasperated. The Commodore anticipated her latest complaint.
'Once we have located our objective we will be able to use it as a fixed beacon to determine our position.'
'Well that’s just great, Commodore, but how you propose we find our way back out?' Varen either didn't have an answer or chose not to share it. 'Helm, all-stop!' Garrett ordered. Castillo set their forward velocity to zero, but nothing seemed to happen.
'Looks to me like we're drifting,' said McLeran. 'Recommend we release a navigational bouy.'
'Not possible, Commander,' said Varen.
'But we could be swept along by the currents in the nebula and end up anywhere,' McLeran protested.
'Inertial references, Ensign,' Varen said to Castillo. 'Use dead-reckoning if you have to.'
Castillo tried to remember the methods of navigation he'd learned in the academy; to be used in the event of a total loss of instruments. He switched over the control mode on the console and a wire-frame representation of the Enterprise-C appeared before him.
'I'm ready, Commodore,' said Batanides.
'Proceed, Commander,' Varen said. Batanides worked the tactical console.
'Field density is a little weaker than we'd hoped,' she said. 'It should still work though. McLeran, set up a a graviton pulse. Set it to a frequency of zero point three-eight microns.'
'Won't that give away our position?' McLeran asked.' Batanides ignored him.
'It might help if you told us what you were trying to do, Commodore,' said Garrett.
'Our objective is somewhere in this nebula, Captain,' said Varen. 'It is imperative that we locate it as soon as possible.'
'You mean the Enterprise-B don't you,' said Garrett. 'I believe her warp coils had a resonant frequency of zero point three-eight microns.'
'Indeed, Captain. You are correct,' said Varen.
'Send out the pulse, Commander. Let's get this over with,' Garrett ordered.
A minute went by before the pulse echoed out over the monitor at the science station. Batanides came over and sat at the navigation station next to Castillo. The console lit up and briefly fed the helm with the information Castillo had been missing. The computer grabbed the data and corrected its heading and speed.
'What are we doing?' Castillo whispered to Batanides. She leant over to him.
'The nebula blocks our sensors, so we're using a graviton pulse that's tuned to the frequency of the Enterprise's warp coils. When the pulse hits them it'll get bounced back to us, like a ringing bell.'
'Did you come up with that?' Castillo asked. Modesty prevented Batanides from answering, she just smiled back at him.
Another hour later and they were deeper into the nebula, chasing the gravitational reverberations of a set of warp coils that were evidently not too far away. Castillo's brain was fading and when he looked at the shipboard clock it read 23:27. The constant speed adjustments, course corrections and realignments that were being relayed to him were relentless. All of this with the nebula fighting the ship the whole time. What made the situation even worse was the fact that he needed to keep a manual record of every input so they could trace their way back out, factoring the drift. If any of the data points were off by even half a degree the accumulated errors would mean they could end up deeper in the nebula with no idea how to get out.
When Varen came over to the navigation station, Castillo knew something was wrong.
'Commander McLeran, widen the range of the pulse,' said the Commodore.
'What if she's not here?' Garrett asked. 'This nebula's over four light-years wide.' Varen seemed reluctant to share his thoughts, but sensed that Captain Garrett's impatience was growing.
'We have a message from the Enterprise-B,' he said. 'We have calculated her last known position and used probe data to map the drift patterns within the nebula.' Castillo slumped back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. He wanted to cry, but knew that it probably wouldn't go down too well with his superiors.
"At ease, Ensign," said McLeran. "I'll take the helm." Castillo didn't need to be told twice. He stood up and walked to the back of the bridge. He shook his arms trying to get the blood back into his fingers.
Garrett walked over to him and he stood up straight, waiting for the reprimand, but instead she kept going towards the conference room and signalled him to join her. She stood in front of the giant replicator unit and ordered a coffee.
'Take a break, Ensign,' she said. 'It's going to be a long night.' Castillo took the cup as she handed it to him and sat down. 'Sandwich?'
'Ham, on rye,' said Castillo. Garrett gave the order to the machine and then asked for something for herself. They both sat in silence, Castillo not sure what to say. Garrett stared out of the viewport into the roiling vapours of the nebula; lost in thought. Castillo tried to think of something to say, to break the uncomfortable silence as he ate, but couldn't come up with anything. He turned to look at the portraits on the wall and wondered why Garrett's wasn't up there with the others. The Captain got up and Castillo sat upright.
'Take it easy, Castillo. I'll call you if anything happens.'
After about twenty minutes Castillo walked back out onto the bridge. Captain Garrett was at the science station, McLeran still had the helm and Varen and Batanides were both at tactical. Castillo walked towards McLeran, who was managing to keep the Enterprise under control much more easily than he had been doing. Suddenly Batanides called out.
'There!'
'Where?' said Garrett.
'Starboard, bearing one-four-eight, mark six.'
'That's a sensor ghost,' said Garrett. 'We're seeing our own reflection.' Batanides and Varen conferred for a minute and then a graviton pulse came back and pinged the detector on the science console.
'That's it, that's the Enterprise,' said Garrett.
'McLeran, turn to one-four-eight, mark one-five,' said Varen. Castillo stood next to the first officer, wondering whether he should go back to the conference room and order desert. She ship tracked around to the heading.
No one questioned the Captain's assertion, but she seemed more sure of it than anyone else.
'Calculating range at one hundred and fourteen thousand kilometres,' said Garrett.
'Time to intercept, seventy-two seconds,' said Batanides. 'Tighten the beam and increase the frequency.' McLeran got up from where he was sitting.
'You have the conn, Ensign,' he said. Castillo had barely sat down when Garrett ordered,
'Steady as she goes, helm. Reduce speed, we don't want to run into her.' The intervals between the echoes grew shorter, but they still couldn't see anything in front of them.
'We're almost on top of her,' said McLeran. Garrett said, 'Helm, all-stop.' Castillo tried to get a reference on the velocity of the Enterprise-C compared to the other Enterprise, but the numbers weren't accurate enough to give him a fix. The viewscreen flickered in front of them. When Garrett asked for it to be magnified it just looked the same; a cauldron of swirling particles that was being stirred by the currents and eddies of a protostar deep within this stellar nursery.
The pings got closer together. A sliver of something wide and smooth appeared briefly, then vanished. Castillo did the calculations to work out how far it was from the tip of the Enterprise-C's saucer section.
'That's about five hundred metres off our bow, Captain,' said Castillo.
'Back us off, Castillo,' said Garrett. Castillo's hand hit the reverse thrusters, but it would take almost a minute of full burn to get the Enterprise moving backwards from a stationary position.
The saucer section of the Enterprise-B came out at them from the mists like a giant hand.
'Full reverse!' McLeran called out. Castillo powered up the impulse engines in negative mode to get the ship moving more rapidly than the thrusters could. Thirty seconds later the port nacelle of the Enterprise swept in front of them, followed by the starboard.
'The ship's rotating around two axes. That's going to make it impossible to board by shuttle,' said Batanides. Castillo glanced over to her. 'Even for me,'.
'Transporter range is severly reduced,' said McLeran. 'We're going to have to stay very close maintain transporter lock.'
'That's far enough, Mr. Castillo,' said Garrett. 'Hold this position.'
'Can we lock onto it with a tractor beam?'
'Too much interference to maintain beam integrity,' said Batanides.
On its next pass the saucer section of the Enterprise-B was just barely visible. They all tried to get a good look at the hull to get a clue as to what circumstances had led to her being here.
'Looks like she was abandoned,' said Garrett. She walked up to Varen. 'Do you intend to board her, Commodore?' Varen nodded. 'You know what happened to her, don't you,' she said.
'Myself and Batanides will conduct the survey, alone,' said Varen.
'I'm going with you,' said Garrett.
'I would advise against it, Captain,' said the Commodore.
'I'm going,' Garrett insisted. 'And if I find out that Starfleet Intelligence is responsible for even one death on that ship, you can be sure I'll make it my mission to bring those responsible to account.' Varen said nothing. Batanides started towards the turbolift and Varen and Garrett followed.
* * *
The Captain sank into her magnetic boots as the transporter disengaged and the Enterprise-B's deck scooped her up. She was pulled sideways by the ship’s rotation and fell awkwardly onto Commodore Varen, who was clinging on to the railing behind the command chair. The bright lights of Batanides' helmet swung around into Garrett's eyes. She took hold of Batanides' outstretched arm and adjusted her feet to regain her balance. The transporter chief had foolishly tried to beam them over the right way up, but no such thing existed on the Enterprise-B. Garrett edged along the railing until she found a place where the opposing forces briefly cancelled each other out. She concentrated on her breathing and surveyed the bridge.
Tendrils of wires and cables swung like vines from walls, ceiling and floor. Burnt out consoles bore the white stains of the fire suppression system. There were no bodies that Garrett could see. The lights from Batanides' suit moved away from her, to meet up with those of the Commodore's. Garrett realised she couldn't hear either of them speaking, but knowing Varen this was probably deliberate. Batanides had served aboard this ship as communications officer, so knew its systems better than anyone, and Garrett had been a passenger on one fateful trip when she'd been on her way to Qo'Nos to be installed as the new Starfleet liason to the office of the Federation Ambassador.
The Commodore was already working on the computers at the rear of the bridge, but from the looks of things he wasn't having much luck. Batanides' commlink clicked on.
'There's no way to link to the main computer from up here,' said Batanides. 'I'm going to have to go down to the main core to get what I need.'
'Aren't there logs stored locally?' Garrett asked.
'Everything up here is either corrupted or destroyed,' said Batanides. 'The Commodore is going to stay here and try to restore what he can from the local databanks.'
'I want to check the shuttlebay,' said Garrett. 'I might be able to get some idea of how many survivors got off the ship.' Varen cut in.
'Should either of you find yourselves in difficulty you are authorised to use your emergency transporter devices,' said Varen.
'Thank you, Commodore. I will,' said Garrett, with a mocking tone she knew the Vulcan would not be able to detect.
Garrett and Batanides climbed down together. The Jefferies tube from the bridge to the deck below it was fairly short, but they both struggled to climb along it in their bulky EV suits. The spinning motion of the Enterprise shifted around as the ship tumbled on all three of its axes simultaneously. In one moment they felt as though the were hanging from the ceiling, the next they were crawling down head first.
'Just a few metres and we'll be on deck two, Captain,' said Batanides. They both stopped briefly to wait until they were the right way up before they continued. Garrett could hear Batanides' breaths shorten as she held on to the bottom edge of the tube and swung her legs out through the opening. When Garrett got to the bottom of the ladder she found the Commander standing on the ceiling.
'You can drop the formalities, Marta. There's only the two of us,' Garrett said.
'Fine, but it won't make any difference,' said Batanides. 'I still can't tell you anything.'
'Can't, or won't,' said Garrett.
The Captain pulled herself out of the Jefferies tube and crawled along the wall until she felt the gravity shift enough to allow her to stand up next to Batanides.
'Did Lury make it out?' Garrett asked.
'I don't know,' said Batanides.
'You got a message. Was that from Lury?'
'Please, Rachel, don't do this.' Garrett grabbed Batanides' arm to turn her body towards her. Their helmets lined up so Garrett could look her in the eyes.
'This is my ship and my crew you're dealing with now.'
'Drop it, Rachel. The Commodore told me that the less everyone knows about this mission, the better, and I believe him.'
Batanides lifted up one foot, then the other, and floated to the end of the corridor. Garrett followed her and saw the chasm of an empty turbolift shaft in front of her. Batanides was already down below her, hanging on to the emergency ladder that ran along one side.
'This will take you to deck five,' said Batanides. 'You know the way from there.'
'I thought maybe you would have left Starfleet Intelligence after Qo'Nos,' said Garrett.
'That was a mistake. It doesn't mean everything we do is.'
'Was it Varen you were working for then as well?' Batanadies stopped and looked up at her as the gravity shifted again.
'I said I was sorry. You were right, I was wrong.'
'About all of it?'
'What do you mean?'
'You said a lot of things. Was any of it true?'
'I never lied to you, Rachel. About the mission, or any of it.'
'Then I'm sorry for you,' said Garrett. She let go of the ladder, stepped out into the empty space and let herself drop into the darkness.
Part III: Ghosts
It had been Batanides who'd tried to recruit Garrett to work for Starfleet Intelligence; the last time she'd been aboard this ship. They'd met once before, at Starbase Earhart. In between briefings and security meetings they'd talked, had dinner and visited the ship's fabrication centre to pick out something to wear to the evening reception. Captain Lury had hosted the event in Garrett's honour, but Batanides had waited until they were alone in her quarters before she'd asked Garrett to spy on the Klingons. Garrett had felt utterly betrayed by Batanides, and seeing her again now was almost too much to bear.
The Klingons would probably have found out one way or another, but that wasn't the reason Garrett had refused. The whole concept of spying on a supposed ally, especially one who valued honour above all else, was what had angered Garrett. The Klingon's wouldn't have been surprised either; in fact they’d expected it. Garrett had later learned that the previous incumbent in the role of Federation liaison had passed sensitive information to Starfleet Intelligence, and so had the one before that. The Klingon's knew all about it, but had never complained. When Garrett had served her time, and had shown herself to be honourable, she'd earned their respect, and the many on the Council who opposed the alliance were made fewer.
When she reached the lower shuttlebay Garrett found the hangar door wide open. The swirling nebula outside cast its gentle glow on the inside of the bay, but it wasn't enough to see by. She swung her lights around and did a quick survey. Almost all the shuttlecraft were missing. A small workpod was wedged in behind a roof support and two larger warp shuttles were still locked into their docking clamps in the maintenence bay. There'd probably still be enough energy in one of their cells to power them up and access their databanks. If she really wanted to she could probably patch something up to power the console in the control room.
Her plan had been to find out everything about the last hours of the Enterprise-B that she could, especially now that her Enterprise was going to be taking on its failed mission. The same anger as before was there again. Varen was up on the bridge now, no doubt busily wiping all of the ship's recordings and logs. His orders to Batanides would probably be to do the same to the main core. She made off towards the shuttles. The centrifugal forces were not quite as strong here, close to the centre of rotation.
Garrett checked her suit's remaining life support and launched herself towards the maintenance bay, missing it by only a couple of metres. She scrambled to grab a hold of something before her trajectory returned her to the vast open expanse of the middle of the bay, catching the edge of a bulkhead. When she had her boots locked onto the wall she was able to walk over to the the shuttles and see that neither of them were spaceworthy. One had its port warp nacelle removed and the other was missing its computer core. That explained why they'd been left behind.
A blue-white flash to her right suddenly caught her attention and she span around to see what had caused it. Another bright burst of energy came towards her, connecting with the hull of the shuttlecraft she was standing next to. The green tinged hue of the disruptor beam told her that it was set to a lower setting; not quite the equivalent of the stun on a Federation phaser. She ducked behind the shuttle, then reached down to unclip her sidearm. Two more shots impacted silently on the other side of the craft, giving her a fix on where her unknown assailant was. She turned off the lights on her suit and crawled along the deck, hoping to outflank the attacker and get a couple of shots on them, but then another beam came at her from a different direction.
The second shooter seemed to be moving in on her while the first was keeping her pinned down. Whoever they were it was clear that they had orders to capture rather than kill. Garrett caught a glimpse of the other shooter as they passed in front of the bay's open doors. They landed on the ceiling and used the latticework of beams and supports as cover. She called Varen, then Batanides, then tried to call the ship; there was no response from any of them. She fired back at her assailants, but knew she had little chance of hitting either of them.
Garrett considered firing back, but didn't want to give away her position. Instead, she took her phaser and adjusted its controls to wide-beam, rapid fire at three-second intervals, then she backed herself up to the wall and lodged the weapon into a vent. After the first burst she launched herself up, into the vast open expanse of the middle of the bay. The ship turned, bringing her intended target around to meet her. The workpod was at least designed to accommodate a pilot in an EV suit, which made getting into it relatively easy. She managed to start it up and get it unstuck before either of the raiders noticed that the phaser was just a diversion.
One of them tried to emulate Garrett's manoeuvre. They leapt out towards her, but misjudged their trajectory and floated over the top of the shuttlecraft. She watched them hit the opposite wall, bounce off and sail out of the main doors. She had no idea where the other one was, until they resumed firing at her. The disruptor beam was a fully saturated neon-green now, and was being aimed at the workpod's engines. Garrett completed her turn and set for full power, hoping that she could escape the bay before the shooter got lucky.
10.A loud thud behind her preceded a violent change in the shuttle's attitude. Her port thruster was out, while the one on the starboard side was set at maximum. She was spinning so fast that she couldn't move her arm far enough forward to reach the control panel. She knew she was about to black out, so did the only thing she could and hit the emergency transporter armband.
* * *
Varen watched Batanides crawl out of the Jefferies tube at the rear of the bridge. She took a few seconds to balance herself, then fumbled for the modified tricorder on her belt. The device looked identical to the standard version, but internally it was very different. A separate unit had been spliced onto the control processor, with a gated pathway that isolated a secondary storage cell. At the flick of a toggle on the base the unit could be set to admit data, but prevent any access to it. Varen had designed and built it himself.
'I was able to power up the computer core, but there isn't much left of the original data,' said Batanides. She held out the tricorder and Varen took it. 'Were you able to access the logs and navigational data from here?'
'I downloaded several fragments, but we may not be able to decode them.'
After receiving Lury's last message the Commodore had lost his entire network on Titan station. The message had carried something in it that behaved like a virus, but wasn't. The codex that was subtly woven into the encryption protocols of Lury's message was not a weapon; it didn't attack the computers it encountered because it barely registered them as computers. Whatever had affected the systems of the Enterprise-B and Titan station could not be detected, only inferred.
Varen was about to call the transporter chief to beam back to the ship when a group of five individuals silently materialised in front of him. Batanides reached for her phaser, but Varen waved at her to put it away. The raiding party was fanned out in a semi-circle and armed with an assortment of disruptors. Their gear was all heavily modified Klingon hardware from the turn of the century, but Varen could see through their helmet visors that most of them were Parvol; an off-shoot of the Cardassian race that had once presided over this sector. Now they were a displaced people who had been forced into piracy.
'Where are the rest of your crew, Vulcan?' said Blayc. The comm signal cut into Varen's helmet transceiver like it was being hijacked by a signal jammer.
'We are are representatives of the United Federation of Planets, we have no quarrel with you. Put away your weapons,' said Varen.
'Somehow, I'd expect Starfleet to put up more of a fight,' Blayc replied.
'Since you have the superior number and firepower, a fight would be illogical.'
The group spread themselves around the bridge, moving unsteadily. One of them went up to Batanides and took her sidearm; she didn't make a move to stop them. Varen watched her bristle with frustration as she resisted the urge to fight back. Blayc poked at a few control panels, but quickly realised that none of them contained anything useful.
'If you aim to capture this vessel,' said Varen.
'I don’t,' Blayc replied. 'I have several of my own, all in a much better state than this one.' He pulled himself around to the tactical station, keeping a firm grip on the railing. 'I want this ship's navigation and command logs.'
'As you can see, the ship's computers are severely damaged,' said Varen.
'You came all this way to find her, Vulcan,' said Blayc. 'There must be something here.'
'If you tell me what it is that you want, perhaps I can help you?'
'You've got no reason to help me,' said Blayc. 'You know as well as I do that we're both looking for the same thing.'
Varen watched Blayc carefully, then looked at his crew. The pirate was weighing up his options.
'I could kill you and take the information I need.'
'No,' said Varen. 'You need me to order my ship not fire on you. In any case, you would not find what you require without my help.’
'So if I promise not to kill you, you'll give me what I want? Is that it, Vulcan?'
'Given our current situation, that would be the most logical course of action.'
'How do you know you can trust me?' Blayc asked.
'You are Parvol,' said Varen. 'Your people were driven from their home by human settlers over a century ago. You are fighting for a cause. You are more than petty thieves.'
'I see you know our history, but you still can't trust me.'
'Commander, give him the data you recovered.'
Varen subtly flipped the switch on the base of the tricorder then tossed it to Blayc.
'Sir, you can't give these people those logs. If they find the location of...'
'Silence, Commander,' said Varen. He thought she might have overplayed her part slightly, but the pirate leader still took the bait. 'You will still need to decypher the information in those files.' Blayc scanned everything into his own data recorder and tried to make sense of it.
'You're smart, Vulcan,' said Blayc. 'And you were right to trust me, but if it wasn't for that ship of yours out there you'd both be dead now.'
'You would be wise to leave now, Captain, and I would advise you make certain that our paths do not cross again.'
* * *
Commodore Varen entered the bridge alone and marched towards the science station.
‘Where's Captain Garrett?’ Commander McLeran asked. ‘The transporter room says she didn’t beam back aboard yet.’ Varen was adjusting the various sensor arrays and fine-tuning them to look for something. At first McLeran assumed he was looking for Garrett, but when the Commander glanced over his shoulder he could see that he wasn’t. The arrays were probing the nebula surrounding them, sending out micro-pulses that were intended to discover a cloaked ship.
‘Did she come back with you, Commodore?’ McLeran asked.
When he got no reply he headed towards the Commodore, intent on getting an answer one way or another. He clenched his fist tightly as he saw that Varen was still probing the cloud of gas and dust around the Enterprise-B.
'You were in charge of the boarding party, Commodore. You're responsible for the safe return of those under your command.' Varen stood up straight and squared himself in front of the Commander.
'I do not know, Mr. McLeran. Captain Garrett departed from the main boarding party to explore the Enterprise-B alone. I cannot be held accountable for officers who do not follow standard protocols.’ McLeran took two steps back, before he did something he knew he would regret.
'Scan the Enterprise-B for her comm signal,' he told Varen. The Vulcan flicked a switch and devoted no more than two seconds to the task.
'Too much interference, Commander.’
‘Try internal sensors.’ When Varen failed to move quickly enough McLeran pushed the Vulcan aside and made the scan himself.
Castillo, who was standing next to tactical, delivered more bad news.
‘Detecting a massive power spike, sir. Maybe that other ship's powering up their engines?’
‘They're getting ready to move out,’ said Varen.
‘We’re not leaving without the Captain,’ said McLeran.
‘The Captain is missing. You are in command now,' said Varen. McLeran looked down at the floor for a moment, then turned to face his superior.
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Arm a spread of photon torpedoes and target the Enterprise-B.' There was no time for hesitation, introspection or doubt; the pirates were getting away and it was clear that Varen did not intend to leave the derelict flagship here for others to discover.
Castillo returned to the helm and McLeran took the tactical console. His hands worked the controls, carrying out the order he'd been given while every part of him wanted to stop. The decades of training and service took over, overriding any emotions he had. He heard the order to fire and watched the five torpedoes he'd launched fly along their programmed trajectories. The first one hit the bow of the Enterprise-B, the second the midpoint of the saucer section. The others all sank in along the hull of the ship. An orange bloom of fire burst out of the first rupture as last torpedo hit the stern of the ship. They turned around and powered up their impulse engines before the Enterprise-B split into fragments.
To Be Continued...