Miracle Workers Read online

  Within half an hour the six Tholian ships they had detected would be here, bringing with them their massive energy net and looking to snare anything in their collective path, most notably the da Vinci.

  It wouldn’t have mattered now if ol’ Scotty had bought us a year. If we’re not out of here before long, we’re done for.

  He shook off the thought and focused his eyes once again on the briefing room’s main viewer and its projection of the tactical image that had burned itself into his mind not more than thirty minutes earlier. “Okay, let’s go over it one more time. Run it again, Fabian.”

  Stevens entered a series of commands into the keypad next to the viewer and the image reset itself. Six cones representing Tholian ships en route to the da Vinci’s current position now glowed a threatening red in the screen’s upper-left corner.

  Amid the cones was an amber-colored grid, seemingly innocuous on the screen but representing the potential to destroy the da Vinci in one fell swoop. Just below and to the right of the screen’s center was a soft blue dot for the da Vinci, which Duffy’s ever-wicked mind underscored with the caption “You are here,” just to lighten his mental load. To the virtual da Vinci’s right was a field of blue, a computer-simulated haze marking the area of interphase that, up until now, had drawn the bulk of Duffy’s attention.

  Stevens tapped once more and the tactical image sprang to life. The six cones bore down on the da Vinci in formation.

  “This variety of the Tholian web has never been observed in the field by anyone from Starfleet,” he said as he pointed to the configuration of red and amber shapes. “It differs from the web employed by Tholian ships for more than a hundred years, which was literally spun around a craft, then constricted. Once the energy field made contact, the trapped ship was powerless at best, or destroyed.”

  “That seems like a lot of energy to maintain among those ships,” Domenica Corsi said, her brow knitting in confusion as she studied the computer model. “Why did they engage the web so far from our position?”

  Stevens shrugged. “Who can tell? Maybe they hoped it would act as a deterrent. If I were in a Tholian ship, I’d rather scare an enemy away than engage one in combat. Even with the web drawing its energy from their ships’ warp fields, as I’m guessing it does, flying around at high warp with that thing glowing hot is still a safer alternative for the Tholians than getting shot at.”

  That made sense to Duffy. The Tholians probably charged their energy web many more times than they actually used it. Even theories on the widespread damage such a web would be capable of wreaking on a snared craft would shoo away the most wizened combat veteran.

  “Deterrent? They obviously don’t know what kind of thickheaded people they’re dealing with today,” he said in a deadpan voice.

  Stevens laughed in response as Corsi scowled. Duffy couldn’t help but smirk a little himself. There was nothing like knowing your audience.

  Corsi studied the screen for another moment before saying, “It’s pretty obvious that we either fight or run. How do we fight it?”

  Stevens reached for the keypad once again, the image on the screen responding to his commands. “I don’t know how many ships we really need to disable in order to shut the web down. I recommend targeting no less than three of them, but I’m hoping that getting two might be enough for us to slip through their fingers. That is, if Tholians have fingers.”

  On the viewer, the image’s perspective jumped as the distance tightened between the Tholian cluster of ships and the da Vinci. Suddenly a line of white lanced from the Federation ship’s position, connecting to one of the red cones. Two more lines quickly followed it, each one homing in on a ship directly adjacent to the first target. As the animation played out, the Tholian ships broke from their hexagonal formation and swooped past the dot representing the da Vinci.

  “Looks good in theory, Fabian,” Duffy said as Corsi nodded her approval.

  Stevens’s expression was appreciative, yet he maintained his attitude of concern. “That’s not to say, though, that the remaining ships can’t just regroup and come back at us with a smaller web.” He paused for the others to digest his assessment. “What we really need is another ship on our side.”

  Yeah. Wouldn’t that be nice, Duffy mused.

  He had an idea of what to expect, should things not go in their favor, but he voiced the question nonetheless. “And when, uh, if we’re hit by the web?”

  Stevens entered the command to freeze the tactical animation on the viewer. “Again, Duff, I’m just guessing. It might smoke all of our systems, and that could just shut us down, or it might force us into a warp-core breach. Hell, that thing might cut through us like an exoscalpel.”

  To Duffy, it was obvious from the silence that suddenly descended upon the room that his two companions were envisioning their own worst-case scenarios for the da Vinci’s entrapment. Before Duffy had much of a chance to mentally unspool his fate for himself, however, Stevens took a step toward the briefing room’s door.

  “As much as I hate to break up this party, Duff, I need just a couple of minutes to run the last check on my deflector equation.”

  Duffy nodded his head. “Sure. Hey, Fabian, try not to blow us up before the Tholians get here. They’ll be upset if we take all the fun out of it for them.”

  Stevens just smiled and left the room, leaving Duffy with Corsi and the still-illuminated tactical display. The security chief visibly stiffened in her seat, and Duffy knew that she was about to unload her true feelings about their current situation to him. He held up his hand to her, cutting her off just as she opened her mouth.

  “Okay, it’s not as bad as it sounds,” he said.

  Corsi didn’t ease up. “What is Stevens planning to do?”

  “Fabian says he’s thrown just about every combination of stimuli he can channel through the deflector dish at the rift. Everything except a warp field.” Duffy paused, noting the frown on Corsi’s face. “I know you’re not an engineer, and most times you could give two bloodworms about tech talk, but bear with me here. Fabian thinks that maybe the rift shows some of the same characteristics as a wormhole. He’s going to siphon off some plasma from the warp nacelles, mix it with some artificial verteron particles, and channel it all through the deflector dish. It’s risky, but the upside is that the rift could flash open like a Bolian skyfire.”

  Corsi seemed unconvinced. “And the downside?” Duffy’s gaze faltered, and he looked away before replying. “We could blow out the deflector and short out the warp drive.”

  “Commander, that is as bad as it sounds.”

  Despite her response, Corsi’s expression wasn’t nearly as fierce as Duffy had anticipated it would be. Of all the unexpected twists that this mission had thrown at him so far, one thing he never, ever would have bet on was that he’d find a supportive ally in Domenica Corsi. He had to admit that heading into battle against the Tholians didn’t seem as fearsome a prospect with her at his side. Corsi had kept a level head when he himself had come close to losing all composure. In her eyes, Duffy saw the desire to believe in the plan, to try one last time to pull the Defiant, and more importantly their friends, from a fate even worse than death at the hands of the Tholians.

  “Nah, it’s no big deal,” Duffy lied. “You’d understand it all with a little more training in warp theory. And you know, I could steer you toward some good texts on the subject if you need a little night reading.”

  “That would not be the way I’d choose to spend my nights, Mr. Duffy.” Corsi cracked a hint of a smile as the ship’s intercom sounded its hailing chime. In the moment before the chime was followed by a voice, Duffy chastised himself for wondering just how Corsi did spend her nights.

  “ Duff? I’m ready to go out here and time’s a wastin’.”

  The two rose from the oval table without answering Stevens’s invitation. As they moved to take their posts on the bridge, Duffy noticed himself crossing almost too naturally to the center seat. However, as he sett
led into the chair, he gripped its armrests a little too tightly, feeling as though it was he who would be fired into the rift instead of the deflector’s delicate intermix.

  Boy, will I be glad when this is over.

  “Mr. Stevens, engage the deflector beam,” he said, hoping that the trembling he thought he heard in his voice was strictly in his imagination. Duffy’s eyes did not leave the main viewer as Stevens activated the deflector.

  He saw no beam.

  What he did see was a shower of sparks and fire erupting from the science console, and Stevens throwing himself away from the billowing smoke and hungry flames.

  “Fabian!” Duffy shouted, leaping from his seat and bolting to where his friend had landed on the deck.

  “I’m all right,” Stevens said, rolling onto his side and grimacing slightly from the abrupt impact.

  Looking at Corsi, Duffy called out, “Damage report!”

  The security officer’s fingers were almost a blur as she fed commands to her console. “I can’t get any diagnostics from the deflector relay system. The dish is either damaged or destroyed. I’m routing a damage-control team there now.” After another few seconds she looked up from her station. “The warp drive is off-line. There was feedback from the deflector to the plasma conduits from the warp nacelles and it caused an overload. Engineering reports they may have to shut down the warp core.”

  Everyone on the bridge knew what Corsi’s words really meant. With the Tholian ships only minutes away, the da Vinci was, for all intents and purposes, a sitting duck. There was no way they would be able to outrun the enemy vessels without warp drive.

  “Dammit, dammit, dammit!” Duffy launched himself from where he had knelt next to Stevens and raced to the turbolift’s doors. He was carried at first by instinct, but his sense of duty to the da Vinci’s crew kicked him into an even higher gear. As it was, he had to brake himself so as to avoid slamming bodily into Corsi, who had materialized between him and the turbolift with the efficiency of a transporter.

  “Where the hell are you going?” she demanded, her eyes boring into Duffy’s.

  “I can have warp back on-line in three minutes,” he said, moving to push past her. The turbolift doors hissed open at his approach, but he was halted by Corsi’s hand clamping down on his arm with the strength of a vise.

  “You can’t leave this bridge,” she said, her icycalm voice belying the force she was exerting to keep him in place. “The Tholians will be here any minute.”

  Duffy wrenched his arm free from Corsi’s grip and backpedaled into the waiting turbolift. As he stepped into the car, he met the gazes of the bridge crew and at that instant felt certain that he was doing the right thing. Captain Scott had said it himself: An engineer’s job was to keep his crew safe.

  Well, that was a captain’s job as well, Duffy decided. The da Vinci was hardly safe from the Tholians without the power to jump to warp speed, and no one knew those engines better than he did. Acting as captain or engineer, Duffy knew there was only one place for him to be right now.

  “Three minutes!” he said to Corsi, hoping the urgent volume in his voice would slow her down. When it didn’t, he finally resorted to the words that would stop her dead in her tracks.

  “Commander Corsi, you have the conn.”

  And stop she did.

  With a grim smile on his lips, he called out “Engineering!” and the turbolift’s doors slammed shut. He felt the customary lurch in the pit of his stomach as the car dropped him from the bridge into the bowels of the ship.

  CHAPTER

  7

  Sonya Gomez regarded the master systems display panel in the Defiant’s engineering section and marveled once again at the antiquated controls. Though the systems she was used to overseeing were vastly more advanced, she still perceived the echoes of function and purpose in the consoles around her. The admiration she felt for the engineers of this vessel and the bygone era it represented grew with every hour she spent here. More than once during this mission, she had imagined a younger Montgomery Scott, more than a century before he would come to lead the Starfleet Corps of Engineers, proudly riding herd on massive engines like the ones that had once powered the Defiant. The thought brought with it a momentary twinge of envy.

  The 23rd century, Gomez decided, had to have been a more challenging time to be an engineer. With ships out of contact with command bases for weeks and sometimes months at a time, no SpaceDock facilities or starbases could be relied upon for repairs. Ships’ engineers were the ultimate masters of their vessels’ fates. The crews of ships like the Defiant had pushed back the frontiers of unknown space and expanded the storehouse of knowledge that she and many modern-day Starfleet officers took for granted.

  “The modifications to the generators are complete,” Pattie reported, moving from the main engineering area to stand next to Gomez. “They are tied into the warp drive, and I have programmed a new start-up sequence into the main computer.”

  Gomez nodded in satisfaction. Their preparations were finished, and with any luck they would all be back on the da Vinci within thirty minutes. She, for one, would be glad for that. Despite what she might feel for this ship and the 23rd century, she had grown weary of traipsing around the derelict ship in near darkness and chancing upon the scattered remains of the Defiant’s crew. She had also grown tired of being forced to listen to the echo of her own breathing inside her helmet. If she were granted one wish, she decided it would be to never wear an environment suit again for the rest of her life.

  “Thanks, Pattie,” she replied, turning to smile at her Nasat companion. Despite having what must surely be a splitting headache, thanks to her concussion, Pattie had plunged into preparing the generators for the unorthodox task they would shortly undertake. It hadn’t been a simple proposition, either. Tying the modern-day components to the century-old power distribution systems had required even more finessing than Gomez had used to install the generators to begin with.

  And assuming they succeeded in pushing the Defiant out of the rift, what was waiting for them on the other side? Was the da Vinci . . . was Kieran standing by to help them? To help her? What had happened after the Defiant had been forced back into interspace? Had Kieran made a stand and tried to protect the away team, or had he been forced to retreat? Had he managed to disable or destroy the Tholian ship, or . . . ?

  Gomez couldn’t bring herself to complete the thought. It was probably just as well, she decided. The coming minutes would require her complete attention. She couldn’t afford distractions, especially now.

  The telltale sounds of a tricorder made her turn around to see Dr. Lense waving the device over Pattie’s head.

  “Problem, Doctor?” Gomez asked.

  Lense shook her head. “Just checking for signs that Pattie might be starting to feel the effects of interphase. So far, she’s fine.” She smiled at the diminutive engineer. “Must be that sturdy Nasat constitution.”

  “Too bad she can’t share any of that,” Gomez said with a grim smile of her own. Her mood turned serious again, however, when she asked, “Elizabeth, how much longer do you think your supply of theragen will hold out?”

  “I really don’t know,” the doctor replied. “The inoculations are continuing to lose their potency and the effective period for each successive dose is decreasing rapidly. I’d give us another couple of hours before it loses its effectiveness altogether.”

  Gomez had no intention of being around when that happened. She had no desire to revisit the panic and sheer terror she’d experienced earlier in the Jefferies tube. So long as there remained options that would let her fight to avoid it, she refused to consign herself to such a fate.

  “Well, I’m ready to see about getting us out of here,” she said as she activated her communicator.

  “Gomez to Captain Gold. We’re all set down here, sir.”

  On the Defiant’s bridge, David Gold smiled in satisfaction to himself. As good as her word, Sonya Gomez and her team had completed their mo
difications well within the time remaining to them before their power supplies succumbed to the effects of interphase. They would indeed get their one chance to push the Defiant from the rift.

  “Excellent work, Commander,” he said. “Stand by.” Stepping down into the bridge’s command well, the da Vinci captain moved to stand next to Soloman, who was seated at the ship’s helm. Putting a hand on the Bynar’s shoulder, Gold asked, “Are we ready?”

  Soloman nodded. “Thrusters are continuing to . . . function normally, Captain. They should provide sufficient power to . . . maneuver us out of the rift once . . . Commander Gomez triggers the warp pulse.”

  “Fine,” Gold replied. Of course, he couldn’t stop from asking himself what they might expect to find on the other side of the rift. If they were successful, would they be greeted by the welcome sight of the da Vinci, or the ominous presence of a Tholian battle fleet?

  As if hearing the unspoken thought, Gomez said, “We might not be able to see what’s waiting for us, Captain, but I might be able to give us a bit of insurance. I can divert power from our remaining generators to the shields and maybe one phaser bank. We’d have to sacrifice access to the main computer and life support to the bridge, though.”

  Gold needed no time to consider his options. “Take whatever power you need, Gomez, but make sure we retain sensor control and the thrusters.” As he spoke, he indicated for Soloman to don his helmet. Moments later, both of them were once again ensconced in their environment suits.

  “Let’s do this, Commander,” Gold said. “Throw the switch.”

  “Aye, sir,” Gomez replied. “Brace yourselves up there. This might get a bit bumpy.”