“I’m still working on that,” Deanna said. “The fact that the Neyel civil and military authorities seem to be too busy with crisis management to even talk to us argues that we ought to help them, with or without permission.”
“I just wonder how the crew will take this,” Vale said.
Deanna tipped her head, considering Vale’s question. “They’re a good crew. They’ll adapt.” Her dark eyes locked with Riker’s, and she offered him a gentle smile. “They’ll be frightened, of course. But they have faith in you, Will. They’ll follow wherever you lead.”
No pressure,Riker thought.
He turned his seat until he faced the aft portion of the bridge. Akaar and Frane regarded him from the railed upper section, where they loomed over him like monuments.
“You’ve both been fairly quiet since I came back aboard,” Riker said.
“If you were expecting me to second-guess you, Captain, I fear I must disappoint you,” Akaar said. “The risks are yours to take.”
“Your life will be at risk as well, Admiral,” Riker said. “Along with mine and everybody else aboard Titan.”
Akaar’s shoulders rotated in a slow shrug. His dark eyes twinkled beneath his pale, lined brow. “All of our lives would be at risk, even if we were to attempt to recross the anomaly and return home right now. I was born amid risk, Captain. As one of my namesakes once said, ‘risk is our business.’ ”
Riker’s eyes lit next upon the taciturn Neyel. “And you, Mr. Frane?”
Frane’s arms were folded, drawing the sleeves of his robe up so that the bracelet he had earlier seemed so reticent about displaying was clearly visible. His leathery face assayed a very slight smile. “I wish danger upon no one, Captain. But if you expect me to object to anyone’s effort to save my birthworld, I’m afraid I must disappoint you.”
“I was starting to think you really were rooting for the Sleeper,” Riker said.
The Neyel tipped his head inquisitively. “ ‘Rooting’?”
“Hoping that the Sleeper would wake up and erase your people from the universe.”
Frane nodded. “So I was. Once, at any rate, when I had less hope than I do now. Perhaps I misjudged myself somewhat. Just as I misjudged you as a slaver.”
Riker replied with a narrow smile of his own. Here was a young man whose cultural alienation and nihilism had led him to implore his adopted deity to punish his own people with nonexistence. Now that actual destruction—whether from divine retribution or cosmic happenstance—was en route, Frane had evidently had a change of heart. Not only that, he felt he had a reason for hope; Riker could only hope that it wasn’t a sadly misguided hope.
It occurred to Riker that Frane’s transformation had to bode well for any effort at human-Neyel rapprochement. Assuming that the Neyel people somehow manage to survive this,he thought as he turned back to face the main viewscreen.
“For what it’s worth,” Deanna said, “Commander Donatra is highly conflicted about having abandoned us.”
Riker scowled. “Not conflicted enough.” He leaned forward toward the ops console, behind which Cadet Dakal was seated. “Are the sensor nets fully integrated with Cethente’s spatial breakdown models?”
“Yes, sir,” Dakal said. “We’re only one ship, and we’re equipped with a more refined sensor network than the Romulans have. I’d expect their fleet to take a bit longer than we did to figure out how to navigate the local spatial instabilities safely.”
So they can’t just bolt straight back for the anomaly and a quick ticket home, at least not right away,Riker thought. The notion provided cold comfort.
He turned toward the flight control console, which Ensign Lavena was studying intently, her hydration suit gurgling slightly as she moved her sheathed hands to work the controls.
“Best speed to Oghen, Ensign,” Riker said to the Pacifican conn officer. Then he turned back toward Dakal. “And keep trying to raise the civil authorities on Oghen via subspace radio. I want to make sure they fully understand what’s coming their way.”
“Aye, sir,” the Cardassian said as he set to work.
I suppose we’ll have to figure out how the hell we’re going to save a whole planet on the way there.
Chapter Fourteen
IMPERIAL WARBIRD VALDORE,STARDATE 57031.4
S oon it will be time,Donatra told herself yet again.
Seated at the forward operations console, Centurion Liravek studied a set of readouts, then rose and faced Donatra with a perfect salute, the inside of his right fist touching his sternum directly between the lungs. “Sensors and warp-field governance rokhelhuare coordinated fleetwide, Commander Donatra. All units report they are presently in readiness to move out.”
“Outstanding,” Donatra said, her voice steady though she was beside herself with unease. She watched impassively as Liravek returned to his seat and resumed working his console.
Standing beside the bridge’s centrally located command chair, Donatra turned toward Suran, who stood a short distance away, eyeing the starfield on the viewscreen with evident impatience. Intermittent flashes of deep, bloody green and furious orange flared across portions of the interstellar blackness, each small conflagration revealing nearby loci of intense spatial disruption caused by the protouniverse whose influence the boarding parties had just chased from the fleet’s computer network. Our own handiwork,she thought grimly, considering once again how she and Riker had unwittingly accelerated the process that threatened the lives of so many, across such an enormous volume of space.
And we prepare to flee it, along with the craven Klingons.There was no honor to be found in this. None at all.
A small green light on the arm of Donatra’s command chair began flashing silently. She stepped toward the chair and toggled it off. Thank you, Dr. Venora,she thought, satisfied that no one else had noticed.
“Then let’s get these ships underway,” Suran told the centurion. “The Empire needs the fleet’s protection, especially now that the Klingons have a beachhead on the Two Worlds. We can’t afford to wait around here any longer than we have to.”
“You’re right, Suran. We must act,” Donatra said, her eyes lingering on the bandages that still swathed Suran’s head.
Suran noticed her stare and scowled. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Are you sure you’re feeling well, Suran?”
Suran’s scowled deepened. “I’m fine.”
Donatra assayed her most serious I’m-terribly-concerned-about-youexpression. “You’ve gone as pale as a Reman, Commander.”
“Nonsense.”
“Dr. Venora wasn’t very happy when you checked yourself out of the infirmary.”
“Venora’s neververy happy,” Suran said with a grim laugh.
Donatra nodded toward the centurion. “Take over up here, Liravek. Get the fleet under way.”
Liravek rose again from his seat and again saluted smartly, though his countenance betrayed a look of growing confusion. Was he becoming suspicious? “At once, Commander Donatra.”
She turned and strode toward the lift doors. “I need to speak with you, Suran. Alone.”
Stepping into the lift, Donatra saw the thunderclouds gathering behind her colleague’s bandaged brow. He stepped into the lift with her.
“Infirmary,” she said once the doors had closed.