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From: "Colin J. Wynne" <cwynne@liberty.uc.wlu.edu>
To: asc <jfy@cis.ksu.edu>
Subject: GhostsFromThePast.3
Date: Tue, 12 Jan 1993 16:52:05 +0500 (EST)

This story is property of:
				Colin J. Wynne
				P.O. Box 4661
				Lexington, VA 24450
				(703) 464-4030
				cwynne@liberty.uc.wlu.edu

Permission is given to distribute this story freely as long as this header
is included with all files/hardcopies/electronic postings.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Ghosts from the Past," Ch. 7 through Ch. 9:
--------------------------------------------


                            CHAPTER VII


     Picard had seen ships self-destruct before, but it didn't 
help to ease the emotions that he felt.  He couldn't understand 
anyone, or any race, that viewed death as the only way out of a 
bad situation.
     Even worse, he didn't know why they had been attacked in the 
first place!  Perhaps his hailing message had been misunderstood, 
and then when the ships put their shields up, they interpreted the 
action as hostile.
     "Captain," announced Hathoway, one of Worf's leading security 
ensigns, "Dr. Pulaski on the intercom."
     "Yes, Doctor."
     "I have the casualty report, Captain."
     Picard sighed.  "How bad?"
     "Fourteen dead, all civilians, and twenty-eight wounded."
     "My god.  I'm sorry, Doctor.  Please get me a list of the 
fatalities, so I can try and offer some consolation to their 
families."
     Picard snapped off the intercom.  That piece of news was 
worse than anything that had happened so far.  The Captain decided 
that he was now in a suitably bad frame of mind that he might as 
well get all the bad news over at once.  "Captain to Engineering."
     "LaForge here, Captain."
     "Give me a damage report, Lieutenant."
     "Not too bad from an engineering standpoint, Captain.  The 
hit was in the saucer, port aft.  Some stored water bled off and a 
few batteries were destroyed.  One more thing, though.  The 
docking mechanism was damaged, so we can't separate the two hulls 
until that's repaired."
     "All right, then.  We have to close the breach in the hull 
first.  The docking equipment is second.  Then, use your 
judgement."
     "Aye, aye, sir."
     "Ensign Hathoway, get me Commander Riker."
     "On screen now, sir."
     Riker's bearded face appeared on the screen.  From the 
details visible, it appeared as though he was in Engineering.  
"Yes, sir?"
     Picard detailed the damage and casualty report for his ship, 
then inquired about the battlecruiser's status.  Fortunately it 
hadn't been damaged.  But there was still a problem somewhere in 
the ship.  It wasn't regenerating its own power, and the beating 
that the attackers had done the shields had drawn off a lot of 
energy.
     "So, if this sort of thing happens again, this ship might 
become a derelict again."
     "Commander, you have fifty of the best engineering techs in 
all of Starfleet aboard that ship.  They must be able to do 
something."
     "We're doing our best."
     "Number One, those ships quite obviously came out of one of 
those rips."
     "Yes, sir.  We reached the same conclusion over here."
     "Mr. Data's team is going to have to start working round the 
clock.  I need to know what happened after your ship went through 
the rip.  We have to be able to deal with a recurrence of this."
     "They're already on it, sir."
     "One more thing, Number One.  Regulations call for me to 
convene a Board of Inquiry into your destruction of the lead 
attacking vessel."
     "I understand, sir."
     "Fine.  Then we'll convene at 1200 hours aboard my ship."
     "Aye, aye, sir.  Riker out."
     

     Wesley was entering just as Riker signed off.  "Gee, 
Commander, I hope it's nothing really serious."
     "Wes, I have an assignment for you."
     In the manner of any proud boy being given some measure of 
responsibility, Wesley straightened himself to his full height, 
giving himself a tremendous inward smile.  "Yes, sir?"
     "Until we can find out why the energisers aren't working 
properly, we need an alternate means of powering this ship.  Now, 
as I understand it, Transwarp and Ultrawarp energy are not easily 
compatible, but it can theoretically be done?"
     "Yes, sir.  And you want me to figure out a way to do it?"
     Will smiled.  "That's exactly what I want you to do, Wes."
     "I'll get right on it."
     The commander left Wesley to his new task, and took several 
ladders up to the main computer deck, at the very heart of the 
saucer section.  The turbolifts were shut down to conserve power.  
That and other measures had rendered the ship effectively blacked-
out.
     Data was hard at work in the main memory banks when the 
Commander arrived.  "How's it going, Data?"
     "Not very well, sir.  The memory is badly scrambled.  Even 
worse than I at first thought.  The individual bits of information 
have been deposited through random memory locations."
     "What does that mean, Data?"
     Data, who had been working and talking at the same time, now 
turned his full attention to Riker.  "Imagine, sir, that you have 
hardcopies of ten letters, each of them ten pages long, in ten 
separate piles.  That is how the memory is supposed to be 
organised. What we have here instead is that the pages of the 
first letter are in the wrong order, and each page has been 
randomly placed in one of the piles, maybe the correct one, but 
more likely not.  Each letter has been similarly displaced, in a 
completely random fashion."
     "Is there any way to recover all of the information?"
     "Without a doubt, it can be done.  But it will take time.  I 
will have to break down all stored memory and rebuild it, bit by 
bit."
     "How much time?"
     "At best, maybe a week.  Probably more."
     "Can't you do any better?"
     "It's not the process, sir.  It has to do with the processing 
speed of the computers that we use to rebuild the memory.  The 
computers on Enterprise-D are the best, short of Starfleet 
Command's."
     "I see."
     "We're downloading the memory from the primary banks into the 
backup, then to the Enterprise a piece at a time for processing, 
and back into the main memory."
     "How can the Enterprise rebuild the memory with only a little 
bit to work on at a time?"
     "It's like a jigsaw puzzle.  The Enterprise figures out where 
each bit originally was, assigns it back into that location, and 
sends it back."
     "I'll make a report of all of this when I see the Captain."
     "Yes.  I heard about the Board of Inquiry.  Good luck, sir."
     "Thanks.  I hope I won't need it."


     "This Board of Inquiry is now declared open.  Commander 
William Riker, we are convened here to examine the recent 
destruction of an unidentified ship by your direct orders.  Do you 
deny the event?"
     "I do not, sir."
     The entire atmosphere of the Board was much too stiff and 
formal compared to the close and relaxed style with which they 
were all familiar.  Even Captain Picard seemed rather ill-at-ease 
about the whole situation, but he was required to conduct the 
meeting.
     Picard was at the head of the table in the briefing room, the 
flowing stars just over his right shoulder.  At the opposite side 
in the proverbial hot seat was Will Riker.  On either side of the 
Captain were Troi and LaForge, serving alongside Picard as the 
Board.  Worf was next to Riker as a prime witness.
     "To review for the record, when confronted with three unknown 
vessels, and communication had not been established, you employed 
excessive force in dealing with them, resulting in the total 
destruction of one of the ships.  Is this true?"
     "It is, sir."
     "You are aware that Starfleet policy requires all ship 
captains in crisis situations to disable hostile ships, and that 
the deliberate destruction of such vessels is contrary to all that 
for which Starfleet stands?"  
     "Yes, sir."
     "For the record, what have you to say in your defense?"
     "The situation was quite demanding, sir.  The hostiles had 
attacked and damaged, without provocation, another Starfleet 
vessel," (Although everyone in the room was more than aware of the 
events, having lived through them, everything had to be clearly 
stated due to the fact that the transcript would eventually end up 
in front of a Starfleet Review Board).  
     "That vessel contained civilians, and it was necessary to 
defend them.  My own ship did not have the power to fight a 
sustained battle, so decisive action was necessary.  Although I 
had not intended to destroy the target, my unfamiliarity with the 
heavy weapons of an Alaska class battlecruiser resulted in the use 
of greater firepower than I had expected."
     "Commander, you are admitting lack of control over your 
vessel.  That does not speak well of your command abilities."
     Riker swallowed hard.  "Aye, sir."
     At this point, Worf spoke up.  "If I may, sir?"
     "Yes, Lt. Worf."
     "Sir, the very appearance of those ships justifies their 
destruction."
     Picard was piqued by this bold statement.  "How so, 
Lieutenant?"
     "Since those ships are obviously hostile, the battlecruiser's 
logs must be preserved."
     "And that is sufficient grounds for excusing these charges?"
     "Aye, sir.  The ship's memory must have information about 
those ships, where they came from, how to-"  Worf paused for a 
moment, enough to catch himself from saying 'destroy', which was a 
suitable response that his non-Klingon shipmates would not be able 
to appreciate.  "Control," he continued, "these aggressive ships."
     "I see."
     Worf continued.  "Besides, this is all a moot point, sir.  
Had the ship been disabled, it would have self-destructed anyway."
     "Anything you would like to add, Cmdr. Riker?"
     "No, sir."
     "Fine, you may take a ten minute recess while the Board 
makes its decision."


     Worf and Riker exited across the bridge and into the 
Captain's ready room.  Worf was the first to speak.  "I do not 
believe all of the...nonsense surrounding a simple combat reflex."
     "Worf, Starfleet tries to protect life.  What we should have 
done is prevent those ships from harming us, then find out why 
they attacked and resolve the situation.  Peacefully."
     "Yes, that is Starfleet policy.  But how do you feel about 
the situation?"
     Riker smiled.  "Worf, you do get right to the point, don't 
you?"
     "It serves no purpose to do otherwise, sir."
     "Okay.  I feel guilty about having destroyed that ship, and I 
have been racking my brains trying to figure out how it could have 
been avoided.  But I keep running into the same thing:  they would 
have self-destructed anyway!  What bothers me the most is that 
they took their own lives when they didn't have to."
     "And about this 'Board of Inquiry'?"
     "It's a formality.  I had to save the Enterprise.  Both 
Enterprises!"
     Worf looked pensive for a moment.  "I have been trained by 
Starfleet, and I know its policies and its rationale.  But as a 
Klingon, I understand your position very well, and...I sympathise, 
sir."
     Riker was taken aback.  He always knew that Worf was a 
fiercely loyal officer, and would go far in Starfleet, but this 
was the most outward show of personal loyalty that the Klingon had 
ever made.  Will had earned the respect of Klingons before, as a 
temporary first officer aboard one of their ships.  But somehow, 
that hadn't meant all that much.
     Will put his hand on Worf's shoulder.  "Thank you.  It is 
very important to me to have your respect and your loyalty."
     This exchange had by now made Worf uncomfortable.  He was 
standing quite rigidly.  "Of course, sir.  Ten minutes is up."


     "The Board will now deliver its findings," announced Picard.
     "Commander, due to the extreme stress of the situation, and 
your unfamiliarity with your command, the Board has decided that 
no punitive measures are in order."  Picard looked to his right, 
where Troi was seated.
     "I can tell that the destruction of the attacking ship was 
not purposeful, and that your remorse is genuine.  It is my 
opinion that, now that you know the capabilities of your ship, 
nothing like this will happen again."
     Seeing that the Counselor was finished, Geordi made his 
comments.  "Commander, the phaser cannons, or 'megaphasers', that 
your ship is armed with are powerful.  Two of those weapons have 
more destructive capacity than this entire ship."  He gestured 
around him while he talked.  "You couldn't really have been 
expected to know what a full volley like that could do."
     Picard spoke last.  "Commander, I have had well over twenty 
years experience as a starship captain, and have faced situations 
like this one.  It is my personal opinion that you did what was 
necessary to save both of our ships, their crews, and countless 
civilians.  I would have done the exact same thing had I been in 
your position.
     "Number One, you are hereby cleared to continue your duties 
as commanding officer aboard the Enterprise."
     There was a collective sigh of relief around the table.  They 
all rose and passed by Riker on their way out.  Troi passed by 
first, pausing to give his hand a reassuring squeeze.  "Will, 
you're doing a great job over there.  This really wasn't all 
necessary."
     "Thanks, Deanna."
     LaForge was next.  "I knew there wouldn't be any problems for 
you, Commander.  Good luck with your ship."
     Worf was still standing next to him.  "Sir, congratulations.  
I am glad you will return as our captain."
     Picard caught a look in Riker's eye as he responded that 
hinted at something deeper, more profound, than he thought he had 
seen before.  "Thank you, Worf.  I'll need you back aboard right 
away to do some computer simulations on those megaphasers."
     "Of course, sir.
     Picard was loitering conspicuously behind.  "Number One, I 
hope you understand that I had to do this.  Regulations and all."
     "Certainly, Captain.  I appreciate all your support."
     "I really meant that.  I would have done the same."  There 
was a brief pause.  "Well, what are you waiting for?  You've got a 
ship to run.  Get going!"
     Riker's face glowed.  "Aye, aye, sir!"


     It was well into third watch, a time that Picard was glad he 
had free, because the day had been a tremendous drain on him, when 
the Captain was awakened from his much needed slumber.
     A faint pinging noise roused him, and as he noticed the 
clockface, which read 23:26 hours, a voice accompanied it.  
"Message from Starfleet, Captain."
     "Give me five minutes; I'll be right up."
     Picard dragged himself to sitting position.  He paused to 
count to ten, forcing himself to wake up.  It worked.
     "Lights," he ordered, and, four minutes later, was on his way 
to the turbolift.
     He just finished patting a few stray strands of hair into 
place as he was disgorged onto the bridge.  He wasn't used to 
being on the bridge this late, and the contrast between the bright 
worklights there and the diffuse midnight of the corridors was 
slightly painful.
     "On screen."  The familiar features of Admiral Syltek 
coalesced.
     "Captain Picard, we have received your most recent report.  
We all regret the loss of the support ship Kaibatsu.  However, the 
recovery of the battlecruiser remains of prime importance.  A 
support group has been dispatched to assist you.  The group 
includes a scout, a tug, and a light cruiser.  They will signal 
you for your ETA.  Any questions, Captain?"
     Picard searched his still slightly sleep-clouded mind.  "What 
about the rest of this sector?"
     "A squadron from the Planetary Defense Fleet is due in your 
sector for a standard patrol later this week.  We have moved up 
their arrival.  It is the decision of the Council that a heavy 
cruiser, two light cruisers, and four destroyers will suffice for 
local defence in case of any more attacks.
     "You are, of course, in command of the support group, Captain 
Picard.  Anything else?"
     "No, sir.  Thank you."
     "Good luck, then."
     The screen went blank.


                           CHAPTER VIII


     "Captain's Log, Stardate 42924.2:  The ship is running 
smoothly, and with the new support ships due in fifteen minutes we 
have already completely repowered the ship.  Acting-Ensign Crusher 
has successfully developed a method whereby the Ultrawarp power of 
our companion ship can be transferred into our own systems, and, 
with miraculous timing, the engineers have just finished repairing 
the main energisers.
     "Unfortunately, we're still not set to run at warp speed yet.  
The computers are having some difficulty balancing the anti-matter 
reaction.  We are therefore preparing to be taken in tow on the 
tug's arrival."


     The basic design of the fleet tug had remained unchanged for
over one-hundred years:  a saucer with a dorsal connector, and the
two warp nacelles angled down and to the side.  Where another ship
might have had a secondary hull, the tug would attach its payload.
Before the connection was made, however, there were numerous
supplies, spare parts, and extra crew members to transfer aboard
Enterprise-C.
     Since the battlecruiser was now in almost perfect working 
order, she needed more than a mere skeleton crew aboard to
run all of her systems, especially since she was supposed to help 
the scout and Enterprise-D conduct a detailed scan of local space 
on the return to Starbase.
     Also brought aboard were raw materials for the ship's 
synthesis vats, warheads and casings for the photon torpedoes, and 
anything else that was needed by the crew.  Riker left the bridge 
to Worf while he was overseeing the loading procedure, which, 
unfortunately, took several hours.
     It took two more hours after that to assign duties and 
watches, and to otherwise integrate the new crewmembers.  Riker 
decided that the administrative side of captaincy was far less 
rewarding than the action and adventure side.
     Finally, the tug linked up to the battlecruiser's primary 
hull, and the group moved off.  The Enterprises, along with the 
scout Cassandra, were making very detailed scans of the space 
around them, in hopes of giving the defense squadron sufficient 
warning of attacks.


     Data had been making it his habit to check on the memory 
every three hours, and knew that the check he was about to make 
would reveal that they were very close to a breakthrough in some 
area.
     He walked over to the screen that was monitoring the rebuild 
process, and his estimates were confirmed.  "Commander Riker," he 
said to his communicator.
     "Yes, Mr. Data?"
     "I believe I have something for you, sir."
     "I'll be right down."
     True to his word, the door was sliding closed behind Will 
only minutes later.  He looked eager.  "All right, Data, what can 
you tell me?"
     "I have some information for you from the computers about 
these rips."
     "Great.  How'd you do it so fast?  I thought you said it 
would be at least a week."
     "I put a new priority into the reorganisation program in 
Enterprise-D's computer."
     "What did you change?"
     "Instead of organising the information in chronological 
order, the order in which it was recorded, I told the computer to 
look for certain information, specifically, scientific data on the 
rips."
     "And so you have all of that now?"
     "Not all, sir.  There are still gaps, but we have some 
important information.  Would you like me to put it on screen?"
     "Fine, fine.  Let's take a look."
     Riker's eyed bored into the display as information began to 
flow across.  The rips, as scanned, best matched something known 
as a dimensional interphase, a passageway between two normally 
separated points in space that made them temporarily connected.
     What wasn't obvious, however, was whether the interphase 
doorways led to another dimension, as had some previously recorded 
examples, another universe, or simply somewhere else in this 
universe - maybe even somewhere else in the Milky Way galaxy.
     As a natural phenomenon, the rips were apparently almost 
entirely random, but, more importantly, they could somehow be 
controlled, even induced.  The Enterprise had in some manner 
created its own rip to return to Federation space after it had 
been pulled through.  But the random element had caused the ship 
to reappear so far away from its point of departure.
     "Data, this is great.  I have to get in touch with the 
Captain and tell him-"
     "Captain to the bridge immediately," announced the computer, 
and the klaxon droned a Yellow Alert signal to accentuate the 
point.
     "Data, on the bridge, now!"


     "Status," ordered Riker as he and the android entered the 
bridge.
     Worf answered.  "Rip zone detected, one five three mark four, 
range, six hundred thousand kilometres."
     "Sir," interrupted Data, "Captain Picard hailing."
     "On screen."
     "Number One, how's your ship?"
     "I have everything except warp speed, Captain."
     "Good.  I want you to undock, then accompany the Halifax for 
a close investigation of the disturbance."
     "Understood, sir.  Riker out.  Data, get the Van Maanen.  
Have them release all moorings.  Worf, plot a course for the zone, 
and engage as soon as we're free."
     "Aye, sir."
     First, the tractor beam was deactivated, and then the 
physical connections were released.  Before the ship could drift 
more than a hundred feet, the small reaction thrusters hissed, 
turning Enterprise toward the target zone, and she and the light 
cruiser headed off.


     Ultrawarp technology was a relatively new development for 
Starfleet, though not so new that all of the front-line ships in 
the fleet, especially the Planetary Defense Fleet, hadn't been 
replaced with Ultrawarp.
     Transwarp had kept Federation ships marginally ahead of their 
competition, but a completely new breakthrough in warp technology 
had created Ultrawarp, first used in the Galaxy class starships, 
then used to upgrade the ships of the PD-Fleet, while their old 
ships were retired to mothball service.
     Of course, the PD-Fleet hardly had the duties it did when the 
galaxy was a generally more hostile place, but there was always 
need for routine patrols, anti-piracy, neutral zone patrols, and 
other such missions.
     This all made Starfleet the most advanced collection of ships 
in space, with Ultrawarp Defence ships and Galaxy class 
exploration cruisers.
     Halifax was a beautiful ship, possessed more of the graceful 
lines of an Ultrawarp ship than of the lethal silhouette of the 
battlecruiser that accompanied her.  Her primary hull was more 
elliptical than circular, and the aft end was decorated with the 
two nacelles that curved up and abeam of the saucer.
     The two ships halted around the edge of the zone, moving into 
perpendicular orbits for maximum sensor efficiency.  For several 
minutes they recorded in minute detail everything their sensors 
could glean from the affected region.  But the routine scan was 
interrupted, as Riker feared it might be.
     Data announced it.  "Sensor contact, sir.  Three ships in the 
middle of the zone, heading three six two mark zero."
     "That's straight for Enterprise-D.  Signal the Halifax to 
interpose herself at the fringe of the zone.  We'll join her."
     "Aye, sir."
     "Worf, make it so."
     With a few quick moves of his hand, the ship took off in a 
smooth curve to intercept the new ships.  While they were en 
route, Riker tried to contact the arrivals.  Despite all his 
efforts, they would not respond.  Will had hoped against reality 
that the attack that had resulted from the first meeting with 
these unknown beings was just a horrendous misunderstanding.
     So much for hope.  "Vessels are charging weapons, Commander."
     Worf added, "We are being scanned, sir."
     "How?"
     "Fire control.  Halifax is being targeted as well."
     "Red Alert."
     The computer picked up his words and automatically sounded 
the klaxon.  "Weapons charging, shields at full power," reported 
Worf.
     "Target the lead vessel.  Do they have shields?"
     "Some sort of an energy field does surround the vessel, sir.  
That is interesting, considering that the initial trio of ships 
encountered did not have any apparent defenses to-"
     "Later, Data."
     "Yes, sir."
     "Worf, I want you to disable the lead ship."  Then he added, 
his recent experience returning to him, "And only disable it."
     "Of course, sir."
     This time, with the ship at full power and all weapons 
working, there was no need to rely solely on the megaphasers.  
Three of the ship's saucer mounted phaser banks spat lightning.  
The bolts struck the alien defense shielding and were absorbed.
     Riker leaned forward in his chair.  The phaser fire simply 
disappeared into the invisible alien shields.  "Megaphasers, now!"
     Two of the heavier weapons struck the same place.  There was 
a flash, and it was soon obvious that the shots had scored.
     The attacker was now dead in space, her weapons quickly 
losing power, but with what she had left, nine missiles were 
propelled from her hull.
     "Target has launched missiles," said Worf.  Other ships are 
firing."
     "Evasive!"
     Both of the attackers' beam weapons converged on the 
battlecruiser's flank shields.
     "Shields penetrated, Commander.  Minor damage lower decks."
     "My god, that's powerful.  Take out those missiles, phasers 
on rapid-fire."
     The ship's phasers, firing in small, low power bursts, 
swatted at the incoming flies.  Scanners had trouble picking out 
the small targets, and the Enterprise was only able to shoot down 
seven.  The remaining two hit the same part of the shields, which 
had only had slight power restored to it.
     The ship lurched, and Riker felt the explosion through the 
deck.  Data reported on the damage, all traces of his usual 
longwindedness gone.  "Hull breached.  Integrity destroyed on 
decks eighteen to twenty-three.  Electrical fires."
     "Get damage control on that right now.  Mr. Worf report."
     "Remaining ships split off after attacking.  Circling around 
for another pass."
     The first ship detonated to punctuate the reality of Worf's 
statement.  Unleashed energy washed across Halifax's shields, but 
not enough to penetrate.  "Damn!  Why...?"  But Riker's question 
hung in everyone's mind.  Who were these mysterious attackers, and 
what did they have to hide that they would always destroy 
themselves when damaged?  But there were more pressing matters.
     "Worf, you saw that last ship.  Do you have an idea how much 
it will take to just puncture the shields on one of those ships?"
     "I think, sir, that a full salvo from the phaser cannon would 
disable the ship without destroying it."
     "Fine, prepare to fire on the nearer ship as they come 
around."
     "Aye, sir."
     "Data, do you get lifeform readings on that ship?"
     "Yes, sir, but very different from anything that I know of.  
They do appear to have an oxygen based atmosphere, however."
     "Excellent.  Transporter room?"
     "Transporters, aye, sir."
     "As soon as her shields are down, I want you to beam as many 
beings as you can off of her."
     "Understood, Commander."
     "Have Halifax take the other ship when we make our move."
     "Yes, sir."
     The two ships completed their opposite circles and joined up 
again, bearing down on the Federation vessels.  "Tell Halifax to 
swing around.  They're after us."
     The light cruiser shot off in a wide arc away from Enterprise 
around the attackers' flank.  Worf waited as long as he dared and 
fired.  As calculated, the salvo crumpled the ship's shields, in 
the same bright flash as before.
     Halifax, meanwhile was circling around on the last ship.  The 
running battle had brought the group of ships treacherously close 
to the rip zone.  Bright misplaced swaths of stars were visible in 
the background.
     Having seen its fallen comrade, though, the last ship turned 
around and headed at full power into the rip zone.  The light 
cruiser couldn't follow into the area without too much danger to 
itself, and with the distance rapidly increasing, the parting 
salvo from her two saucer mounted phaser rings couldn't deal out 
any damage.
     The mysterious ship skirted all of the rips, until it dove 
back into one of them, right in the middle of the zone.  "Worf, 
give that crippled ship a wide berth.  Data, transmit help 
messages."
     The answer was no less than Riker had expected, unfortunately 
- a glowing fireball against the blackness.
     "All right.  Let's head back to the rest of the group."
     "Sir," said Data, "we took some casualties in Engineering."
     "Engineering?"
     "Yes, sir.  There was no one on the lower decks when they 
were hit."
     "Data, take the conn.  I'm going to have a look for myself."


     The turbolift door parted to admit air thick with the stench 
of burned circuitry.  Riker stepped into a room filled with a 
slight haze of smoke.
     "What the hell happened down here?  Where's Lt. Argyle?"
     "Over here," said a distant voice.  Riker squinted through 
the mist and saw the Engineer's gold uniform standing near a 
medical team.
     "Argyle, are you hurt?"
     "No, not me.  It's the shield crew."
     Riker was relieved.  He couldn't afford to let anything 
happen to Argyle.  Suppressing a strong urge to cough, Riker 
crossed the room.  All around, techs were going over the monitors, 
checking for damage, and generally being as efficient as they 
could.
     In the corner of Engineering, the space devoted to shield 
generating and monitoring equipment, a med team was speaking in 
low and urgent voices.  Before he could see what was happening, he 
managed to pick up that four people had been injured, two badly, 
by an equipment malfunction.
     Then he leaned over Argyle' shoulder and-
     "Oh, no..."
     "I was going to tell you, sir, but I didn't want to panic you 
all up on the bridge."
     Four bodies were sprawled on the floor.  Nearest the aft 
wall, Wesley lay unconscious.  His uniform was covered in scorch 
marks, and the sleeves were burnt off.  His arms were burned and 
bloody, and one of his legs was at an odd angle.
     "How bad is he?"
     The doctor that had come over with the second group of 
crewmen looked up from where he was attending a more serious case.  
"Burns and scratches, broken leg, maybe a concussion.  We have 
more serious things to take care of now."
     The doctor, an older man with a thick head of grey hair, 
returned his gaze to a tech who was laying face down.  Riker 
gasped.  His uniform, too, was scorched, as were, Riker now 
noticed, those of the other two.  But the one with the doctor was 
bleeding from his ears, and his left shoulder blade was visible 
under shredded skin.  
     One more didn't look physically injured, but was twitching 
horribly.  He looked like he had taken a strong dose of 
electricity.  The fourth, the only conscious one of the 
casualties, was sitting in one of the operator's chairs, looking 
dazed and bleeding from a gash in his leg.
     Argyle removed himself from the compartment, tugging at 
Riker's elbow as he did so.  Will followed the other man to the 
Engineer's office, off to the side of the intermix chamber.
     "I, uh, have some bad news for you, Commander."
     "And that wasn't bad enough?"
     "It was his fault."
     "What?  Whose?"
     "Ensign Crusher's."
     "You've got to be joking.  Argyle, what-"
     "I'm sorry, Commander, but I was monitoring shield control 
when it happened."
     A good captain needed to be objective.  Riker willed himself 
to sit still and listen.  "Just after our first shot, Wesley was 
saying something about having just thought of a way to increase 
output to shields.  He said something about recalibrating the coil
microscanners to repeat density output.
     "I'm sure you don't know what that means, but anyway, the 
shield control officer told him to forget about it, because we 
were in the middle of combat and he had duties to attend to.
     "Then after that first hit that punched through the shields, 
he started trying to do it.  Jumped up and said that we needed the 
shields, and it would only take a minute to do.  The lieutenant 
told him to return to his post, ordered him, but he kept at it.  
Then we took that second hit and the generators overloaded, 
because of what he was doing."
     Riker sighed and put his face in his hands.  "Yeah.  That's 
just like him - once he gets an idea, he goes into it head first.  
I have to make a report to the Captain.  Tell the doctor to 
prepare to medivac the wounded.  They have better facilities over 
there."
     "Aye, sir."


                            CHAPTER IX


     Footsteps reverberated off of the Starbase's metal corridors.  
Riker and Worf had left the battlecruiser to attend to the 
interrogation of the aliens that Riker had had beamed aboard 
during the last battle.
     At least, that's why Riker told himself he was going along.  
His presence really wasn't necessary, but he couldn't stand just 
now to be aboard Enterprise-C, because the order had come down 
from Starfleet Command that, after its arrival at Starbase 42, the 
ship was to be formally decommissioned and turned over to a team of 
Starfleet specialists that would continue the work that Riker's 
crew had started.  As soon as his crew had started deactivating 
systems and packing their belongings, Will had decided that it was 
time to leave.
     But he didn't really want to think about that now.  He had 
yet to see the aliens.  They had been beamed directly to the 
sickbay stasis fields.  Stasis was used normally to prevent the 
deterioration of critical patients, because, once inside of a 
stasis field, time stopped.  The technology had been used by some 
race of beings who used to control, or at least populate, all of 
known space, and the occasional discovery of pieces of their 
technology had found fruitful application in Starfleet.
     After arrival at Starbase, the aliens had been transferred 
directly to a holding area, so none of the crew had ever actually 
seen them.  The Chief of Base Security met Worf and Riker in a 
small briefing room adjoining the interrogation area.
     "Ah, I'm glad you two are here."  He turned towards the 
Klingon.  "You must be Lt. Worf, and you, of course, Capt. Riker."
     "It's Commander."  The Security Officer noticed Will's rank 
insignia, apparently for the first time.
     "Yes, so it is.  My apologies.  They simply told me that you 
were the battlecruiser's commanding officer, so I assumed-"
     "Of course.  No harm done."  Will did not like the man's tone 
of voice.  He was a captain himself, and it sounded like he felt 
more than a touch of snobbery that one of a lower rank should hold 
a command position.
     "Shall we get started, then?"
     The trio moved through a security door to the room where the 
detainees were being held.  Having served most of his time in 
Starfleet with humanoid aliens, like Worf and the Andorian that 
now accompanied them, Riker was more than a bit surprised by the 
sight of the three aliens that greeted his eyes.
     They were not humanoid.  Riker tried to assimilate what he 
was seeing as a first impression, to think of something of which 
these creatures reminded him - but there was no such thing.  The 
largest part of their bodies was the midsection.  It was 
triangular, each point serving as a hip joint for one of the three 
legs, with the apex at the back.  The waist area was thick, and 
carapaced in a mottled green exoskeleton.  The legs were short and 
thick, with ball joints at the knees giving their stances a 
bowlegged appearance.
     Riker did a double take as he noticed that the beings had 
three eyes - one atop each hip joint, which were themselves 
covered in the same exoskeletal material.  Above the midsection, 
though, they appeared to be a completely different creature.  
Instead of the chitin-covered appearance of the lower half, the 
top would have been formless, had it not been held up by a few 
pieces of carapaced armour.
     The torso was held to a sort of egg shape, with a long piece 
of armour covering what would have been a spine.  Three tentacle-
like arms protruded, one each from the front and sides, with the 
shoulder joint partially reinforced by exoskeleton.  Each arm 
ended in a tripartite division, the single large tentacles 
breaking down into three smaller finger-like ones.  The tip of 
each finger was armoured.  The slit at the top of the body was 
probably a mouth.
     "Yes, it is.  At least, that's what they eat through."
     "What about talking?"
     "We don't know.  They've been absolutely silent so far.  So 
the first thing that needs to be done is getting them to talk for 
the universal translator.  Then we can get some information."
     Riker looked again at the three aliens, perfectly still over 
in the corner.  "Uh, where do we start?"
     "Leave that to us," answered Worf.


     An hour later, Riker was again wandering aimlessly in the 
Base's corridors.  The aliens simply refused to say anything (the 
partial logs on the battlecruiser made mention to the fact that 
the aliens had some means of verbal communication, as loathe as 
they seemed to be to demonstrate that now) and there was nothing 
that Will could do to help things along.
     He soon found himself at the gangway leading back to his ship 
-  his former ship, that is.  If nothing else, there was a load of 
paper work that he was expected to do, the standard forms 'upon 
completion of a starship cruise of less than six weeks duration'.  
Simple enough, but there were twenty pages, at least.
     The sight of the empty corridors, dark and quiet, sent a wave 
of depression over him.  Riker had always viewed command as a goal 
to look forward to - several years down the line.  He had already 
turned down one command because of two things:  he wanted to stay 
on the Enterprise, and he came to the decision that he wasn't 
experienced enough for an extended command.
     The worst thing was that Riker couldn't understand why he was 
feeling the way he was.  He didn't want a command right now!  At 
least he didn't think that he did.
     By now Will had reached the bridge.  He stepped out of the 
turbolift and crossed the room - which was larger than that of a 
Galaxy class ship's - to the center chair.
     "Captain's Log, Final Entry, Stardate 42932.3:  Now that the 
ship has been successfully transferred to Starbase 42, my duties 
here are finished.  I am proud to say that I leave this ship much 
better than I found her, and I share that pride with the excellent 
crew I've had for these past weeks.
     "As a first command, I am content with the job that I have 
done here.  For the most part, I feel ready to return now to being 
Capt. Picard's First Officer, but I also..."
     Riker clicked off the recorder without even thinking why.  
Deep down in his mind, in the very basic responses that made Will 
Riker his own person, something said that he had no right to 
finish that sentence, and that he also shouldn't show the weakness 
to which he was about to allude.
     "Computer, delete the last sentence of previous log entry."
     The computer thought momentarily.  "Acknowledged.  Action 
complete."
     Just then, the turbolift opened, and a group of technicians 
emerged to finish up work on the bridge.  Riker decided he'd 
rather be somewhere else.
     "Riker to Enterprise-D."
     "Enterprise, sir.  Hathoway here."
     "Get me Counselor Troi, please."


     Shortly thereafter, back aboard the Galaxy class ship 
Enterprise, Will and Troi entered the sickbay.  Riker was now all 
but officially removed from command of the battlecruiser - he had 
no more duties aboard her now.  He figured it was best for him to 
get back to his duties as exec as quickly as possible.  
Surprisingly, there was no backlog of things that needed his 
attention.  Geordi and the Captain must have been working pretty 
hard. 
     One of the first things that he had to do was to deal with 
Wesley.  There were two problems there.  First, he could be 
brought up on charges for disobeying direct orders under fire, a 
serious offense, and Riker would, having been commanding officer 
at the time, have to decide on appropriate punishment.  Second 
(and the reason for the Counselor's presence), Riker had to inform 
a sixteen-year-old boy that his actions almost caused the death of 
four people, including himself.  There was no telling how Wesley 
would take something like that.
     Dr. Pulaski was present as the two entered her sickbay.
     "I assume you two are here to speak with Wes?"
     "Yes, Doctor.  Is he awake?" asked Troi.
     "Yes, just.  He was out for three days recovering from that 
concussion, and he wasn't entirely coherent after that, so I put 
him back under to give the regenerators a chance to work on his 
burns."
     "Then I guess we have good timing.  I didn't really want him 
up and around too much before we came by," commented Riker.
     "Not all timing," responded Pulaski.  "I din't exactly rush 
the treatment, for that very reason."
     Riker allowed a smile.  "I beg your pardon.  Excellent 
foresight, Doctor.  Can we see him now?"
     "Of course.  Right through here."
     As the Doctor started to leave, the intercom started 
announcing Will's name.
     "Just a second, please.  Riker here," he said after tapping 
his communicator.
     "Commander, this is Worf."  As though he couldn't tell by the 
voice.
     "What is it Lieutenant?"
     "The interrogation has been completely unsuccessful.  The 
prisoners refuse to speak."
     Riker realised that, even without the command of a ship, he 
was still in charge of things that he had started, like the 
situation with the aliens.  
     Will looked at Pulaski while he spoke.  "How does the 
security captain feel about a full medscan on the detainees?"  
Riker made the emphasis simply because he didn't feel the term 
'prisoners' to be appropriate.
     "He had suggested just that."
     "I'm glad he agrees.  Doctor, would you mind?"
     "Not at all, Will."
     "Excellent.  I'm sure Dr. Crusher will want in on this as 
well.  Mr. Worf, the doctor will be making a housecall."
     "Of course, sir.  Worf out."
     Pulaski laughed.  "Well, I'll get my things together.  Wesley 
is right through that door."
     All levity vanished as Riker and Deanna walked through the 
door.  It was obvious that Wes knew that he didn't know something.  
"At last!  Are you going to tell me what's going on around here?"
     Riker was the first to speak, after the two officers took a 
seat near the boy's bed.
     "Wes, tell me what you remember."
     "That's easy.  It's all I've been able to think about since I 
woke up."  He began walking around the room and gesticulating as 
though he were talking to himself, or thinking out loud.  "We were 
under attack, and the shields weren't holding.  All I needed to do 
was recalibrate the microscanners - "  He turned towards Troi and 
Riker, "That's the part of the shield generator that creates the 
matrix for the shields."  He turned in on himself again.  "I was 
working on it and then I think we took a hit in Engineering, 
because that's when I blacked out.  The ship wasn't damaged badly, 
was it?"  The last was to Riker.
     He ignored the comment and stayed on the subject.  "Wes, 
weren't you ordered to leave the generators alone."
     He was back kneeling on the bed now.  "Yeah, I guess so.  But 
it had to be done!  The shields just weren't powerful enough."
     "So you were given a direct order by your superior and you 
disobeyed it."  Deanna face's looked like she had just seen Will 
run the boy through on a sword.  He ignored it, for now.
     "But -"
     Riker's voice took on a harsh edge.  "Did you or did you not 
disobey a direct order, Acting-Ensign Crusher?"
     "Will!"
     He silenced Deanna with a flick of his hand.  Of course Troi 
was right that Wes would need to be handled with care - after he'd 
been made to realise what he had done.
     There was a long silence.  Wesley responded in a voice heavily 
laden with formality, as though he were insulted to have to admit 
to the fact.  "Yes, sir, I did."
     "Why?"
     "Because it was obvious that the shields couldn't take 
another hit from the attackers as they were, and I saw no harm in 
what I was doing."
     "No harm?"
     "Yes, sir."
     "And what do you call four casualties?"
     Surprise replaced the emotions on Wesley's face.  "What?"
     Riker's tone of voice softened accordingly.
     "Everyone in shield control was injured, two of them pretty 
badly.  While you were working on the microscanners, the ship took 
a hit, which caused the generators to overload completely."
     Wesley was visibly staggered.  "Because..."
     Riker tried his best to sound fatherly and understanding.  
"Because of what you did."
     Wes fell back to a prone position.  "It's all my fault," he 
said, half unbelieving, half in frustration.  Almost immediately 
he sat back up.  "I've got to see them, to say something!"  He 
started to jump up.
     "Wait!  They're not on board.  The other three are on the 
Starbase."
     Finally, Troi jumped into the conversation.  "I don't think 
you should see them just yet.  I think, Wes, that maybe we should 
talk.  After all-"
     Wes wasn't taking it at all well.  "Talk!  About who I want 
to try and kill this week?"  Troi started towards Wes, who was 
almost in tears now, and still raving.  Riker held her back.  
Again he felt that Troi's brand of helping Wesley deal with his 
actions could wait.
     "Mr. Crusher!"  It was the closest Riker had ever come to 
yelling at Wes, and it easily caught the boy's attention.
     "Yes, sir," he said meekly.
     Again, Riker's tone softened.  "I'm afraid I can't say that I 
know how you're feeling.  But I think I can say that I know you 
should have someone help you deal with this.  I could order you to 
undergo treatment with Counselor Troi, or I could have Dr. Pulaski 
prescribe it to you.  But I think it would be wise of you to be 
mature enough to make your own decisions."
     "Yes, sir."
     "Look, Wes, I'm only trying to help you."
     "I know.  I'm sorry, sir, about the way I acted."
     "Do you want to talk to Counselor Troi now?"
     "Not right now."  Riker started to interject something.  
"Don't worry, I will, I just want to be alone right now.  Please?"
     "All right."
     "It's okay, Wes.  I'll come and see you later."
     "Thanks."


     Starbase 42's Operations Room was a large place.  Commodore 
Blackwell entered the room on large strides, and several junior 
officers scurried to keep up.  There was a huge viewscreen on the 
opposite wall, and almost every other inch of the room was filled 
with consoles and their operators.
     "What's going on around here?"
     A captain quickly crossed the compartment from one of the 
forward stations.  "Sir, we're getting reports from all of the 
sector.  Unidentified warships have been sighted.  They could be 
the same as reported by the Enterprise."
     "How many reports?"
     "Over one-hundred and fifty."
     "Oh, boy.  Have you done anything yet?"
     "There have been no attacks as of yet, so no, I haven't."
     "Very well.  Put the Sector on Yellow Alert."
     "Aye, aye, sir.  Anything else."
     "Have all system defense fleets scramble and put on alert 
status.  Request backup units from Starfleet Command."
     "Aye, sir."
     The Commodore scratched his greying beard.  "We could have 
ourselves one hell of a problem."


     Late that afternoon, Riker was on the bridge, at his post 
next to Captain Picard.  Will was being rather quiet, sullen in 
fact, but the Captain had refrained from saying anything; after 
all, the First Officer's duties hadn't been impaired by his 
moodiness.  In any event, it would pass.
     Picard turned towards his exec.  He opened his mouth to say 
something just as the turbolift doors opened.  The two doctors 
emerged onto the bridge.
     Dr. Crusher spoke first.  "Captain, we have some very good 
news for you."
     "Indeed.  What is it?"
     Pulaski answered, "We finished the medscan on the subjects, 
and managed to adapt one of our standard hypo sprays to be used on 
them."
     Crusher continued, "We gave them an injection to loosen their 
tongues, so to speak.  Mr. Worf should be up soon to report on the 
results."
     To accent the point, the Klingon's bulky frame appeared 
behind the lift doors.
     "Excellent, all of you.  Doctors, would you care to join me 
in the ready room?"
     The three of them headed for the adjacent compartment.  Riker 
watched the receding figures but what he saw instead was the two 
rather comely women following the distinguished Picard.
     This brought a smile to his face.  "And it's always ready."
     Data turned from his console.  "Sir?"
     "Never mind."
     Picard turned, his voice filled with sarcasm as he turned.  
"Commander, would you and Lt. Worf care to join us?"
     "Of course, sir."


     The five officers were seated about the ready room.  
"Interesting," noted the Captain, as the doctors finished their 
analysis of the aliens.  "They're really that different."
     Pulaski answered.  "Indeed.  They breathe oxygen, and some of
the basic biochemistry appears to be the same as most known races, 
such as humans or Klingons for example, but beyond that..."
     Dr. Crusher added, "Their chromosomes come in triplets, 
instead of pairs, and their gene structure is wildly different 
from anything I've even heard about."
     "Lt. Worf, what were you able to learn from them?"
     "Some very important things, Captain."
     "Such as?"
     "The prisoners' ship was one of many scouting groups from a 
very large fleet."
     "An entire fleet?  How many?  A few hundred?"
     "Several thousand, sir."
     There were gasps around the room.  Beverly Crusher gave their 
mutual fears voice,  "Oh, my God..."
     "Are you sure?" asked Riker
     "Yes, sir.  And, more importantly, they are massing for an 
invasion."
     "Into the Federation?" asked Picard.
     "They do not know of the Federation.  The target is this area 
of space, but they do not now where or when."
     "Number One, I want you to relay this information to the 
Starbase and to Starfleet Command.  Immediately!"
     "Yes,sir."  Riker rose to leave.
     "Anything else, Mr. Worf?"
     "Yes.  They are all some sort of engineers, from what they 
call a 'breach-drive'."
     "Does that mean-"
     "That they can control these rips.  Yes, sir."
     "Add that, too, Number One."
     "On my way."