“I’m sorry,” said Vale, silently praying she’d misheard or misunderstood. “You want us to what?”
Jaza repeated himself, outlining the hows and whys and the benefits and drawbacks of his notion and watched as his XO blanched at the thought.
“That’s insane,” she said finally.
“Maybe,” he said. “But it should work for something the size, mass, and particularly the shape of a shuttle.”
In clear desperation Vale looked to Xin Ra-Havreii, hoping that, at the very least, the friction he’d developed with Jaza might inspire him to throw a spanner into the works. No such luck. The engineer only stood by, stroking the edges of his mustache, humming that blasted tune, apparently lost in thought. Wonderful.
“You’ll destroy the hangar,” she said. “At least.”
“I don’t think so,” said Jaza. “If we do this right, we’ll just ding it up a bit. We’re only talking about a microsecond or two. Barely enough time to perceive, much less do serious damage.”
“I don’t know, Najem.” She was more than dubious. This was one of those insane schemes that would probably work but, if it didn’t, could make their current situation astronomically worse. Not to mention killing several indispensable members of her crew.
“It’ll work, Chris,” said Jaza softly, noting her distress and placing a big gentle hand on her arm. The grip was firm, familiar, almost reassuring. “Just take it to the captain and let him decide.”
“He wants to what?” said Will Riker from behind his desk at the far side of the ready room. He’d been cloistered away in there for the last couple of hours wrestling with his conscience, and it showed.
The captain’s eyes had taken on that stony distant quality that Vale had learned to recognize and dislike. His jaw was clenched, set in a way that somehow made his features, normally puckish and engaging, into something that seemed carved from granite. Captains needed this quality of dispassionate calculation if they hoped to make the tough decisions, but she hated to see it evidenced so strongly in Will.
She also noted, for the first time, the stark contrast between the offices of Counselor Troi and her husband’s ready room. While Troi’s domain was rife with personal touches meant to put visitors at ease, Riker’s was as impersonal as a room could be.
There was the desk with its computer access node. There was a standard-issue chair, high-backed, sitting behind the desk with her captain in it. There was one relief sculpture, also of standard issue, of the Federation insignia on the wall behind the chair.
That was it. It was as if Riker had set this place to remind himself that, once within it, he had no other role beyond that of ship’s captain.
“Jaza wants to use the Picard Maneuver to get a heavy-duty shuttle into beaming distance from Orisha,” she said. There was something about Jaza’s plan that short-circuited the processes of a rational brain on the first couple of hearings. “Then the idea is to use maneuvering thrusters to land the shuttle there.”
“And he wants to initiate while the shuttle is still in the hangar?” said Riker. Vale nodded.
“We lock the place down, erect some energy dampers to block most of the damage to the equipment, open the hangar doors, and let ’er rip,” she said. “By the time the distortion out there destroys the warp bubble, they’ll be light-minutes away. After that they can use thrusters to make planetfall.”
“Bumpy ride,” said Riker, mulling.
“It’ll definitely be that,” she said.
“And it’s potentially a one-way trip if they can’t make contact with the Orishans,” he said. “If they don’t, they’ll be months away from Titanat sublight speeds.”
“And there’s still Ra-Havreii’s hypothesis that the pulses could continue,” she said. “Things could get much worse.”
“Things could get much worse,” he said to himself. “Well, that’s always true, isn’t it?”
She could tell something was ticking over in his brain but, as his expression still hadn’t returned to normal, she wasn’t eager to hear the result.
“Jaza knows the risks, but he thinks they’re negligible compared to the alternative,” she said.
“And Ra-Havreii?”
“He’s unhappy about it, I think,” she said. “But he signed off too.”
“What do youthink, Chris?”
There it was: recommendation time. For an awful moment she had the sense of all the members of Titan’s crew somehow looking in on her, listening intently, and judging how she answered.
Risk, maybe sacrifice, the lives of a few to save many. Was that always to be the equation?
“I think we don’t have enough options to be picky,” she said finally, pushing the faces and doubts away. Her own mind had followed his into that hard granite place. She hoped it didn’t show. “I think we have to try it. Presuming you’ve made a decision about contacting the Orishans.”
“Yes,” he said, rising. “I have.”
Once the order was given, things went fast. It was a relief for all concerned to finally be doing something to put an end to the disease rather than just temporarily patching a few symptoms.
The dampers went up all over the shuttlebay, their featureless ebony surfaces transforming it into a massive silver-black grid.
The Ellingtonwas scoured from top to bottom by Ra-Havreii’s engineers, who replaced any circuit or chip that showed the slightest defect or wear.
The mission specialists were vetted and chosen-Vale as field commander, Ranul Keru as her second, Xin Ra-Havreii, who, in his capacity as warp specialist extraordinaire, insisted on joining the team, and of course Jaza. The wild card was Y’lira Modan, whose presence both Troi and Jaza deemed necessary but whose inexperience made Vale nervous. Modan was a bookworm and hadn’t pulled more than the obligatory field time necessary to fulfill grade requirements. Weak link.
“I’ll need her to help with any translation issues,” Troi had told her. “The universal translator can’t handle everything.”
It was obvious early on that Troi assumed she was to be part of the team, which led to a minor dustup between her and the captain. He wanted her on Titan;something about her being needed more there than leading the away mission-something that, frankly, seemed a bit thin to Vale-but Troi would have none of it.
“I’m the diplomatic officer, Will,” Troi reminded Riker. “We have no clear idea what we’ll find there or how receptive the Orishans will be to our arrival. There is no one else as qualified to navigate potential trouble than me, and you know it.”
The captain wasn’t happy about it and grew visibly less so when his XO sided with his wife.
“You said it yourself,” said Vale. “We have to do this right. We may only get one shot.”
She wasright. Theywere right, and the captain, realizing it, conceded the point.
“We’re ready, sir,” said Olivia Bolaji, emerging from the Ellingtonstill wearing the same aura of unhappiness that she had during the entire exercise. “But I still think it’s a mistake not to have an experienced pilot at the helm.”
“I am an experienced pilot,” said Jaza, coming down from the open hatchway behind her. “But, in this case, the computer will be doing the driving.”
“I’d just be happier if I was with you, sir,” said Bolaji. “Instead of just dropping in navigation algorithms for the autopilot.”
“We’ll be fine,” said Jaza, grinning as if he knew something she didn’t.
Y’lira Modan strapped herself into one of the two remaining jump seats, then waited while Ranul Keru checked her work. Despite the slight tremor in her voice, her face was a mask of calm. In fact, Modan herself still resembled nothing so much as an animated metal sculpture. If not for the occasional blink and the blue-on-black uniform, like all Seleneans, Modan looked as if she’d been hammered out of gold.