Gateways 07_ What Lay Beyond - Diane Carey [101]
“Listen to me, both of you, I didn’t order anything of the sort and we’re going to take a moment and figure this out. Commander, tell me what you know.”
“We received a Starfleet communiqué informing us to participate in rigging all forty-eight ships with a single link, to remain on an open channel. The message gave us an hour to comply.”
Riker nodded and looked at the very unhappy Grekor, who nodded in agreement with the message. His stance showed he was pretty angry, feet firmly planted deep into the bridge’s carpet, arms crossed before his chest, which rose and fell quickly.
“Lieutenant, did we issue such a order?”
Vale scanned one end of the tactical station to the other before responding. Of course, she found nothing.
“Raise Captain Brisbayne, please,” Riker said, trying to sound polite, but betraying the anger in his tone.
Carter Brisbayne, captain of the wounded starship Mercury, appeared on the screen after a matter of moments. He seemed restless, like everyone else, and he had every right to be. On approaching the Petraw ships, they took heavy fire and were left limping in space, possibly irreparable.
“Did you issue an order, Captain?”
He stiffened at Riker’s tone, and directed himself at the camera.
“God damn right I did, Commander,” he replied.
“Captain Picard left me in command of this group, Captain, and with all due respect, I ask that you honor those wishes.”
“You can have this “fleet,’ but we are not going to get caught with our pants down.”
Riker shifted in the chair, as it seemed to get more uncomfortable by the minute. “Explain.”
“By maintaining an open link, we can avoid sabotage and surprise,” the older captain said. “If just one thing goes amiss on one ship, we all know immediately or if one ship cuts the signal, we can spot the problem. I’m not one for waiting.”
Riker stroked his stubbly chin and saw that the explanation, while sensible, did not mollify the Klingon. He couldn’t easily let Brisbayne off the hook.
“Everyone is here voluntarily, Captain,” Riker said evenly. “We do not hand out orders while at yellow alert. If you want to make further useful suggestions, we must all be consulted. Riker out.”
The first officer rose to address Grekor, who remained immobile. It was a good sign that he came alone; there would be no “honor” to defend before his own crew. Riker had the advantage but didn’t feel the need to press it.
“He acted on his own authority, but the thinking is sound. I suggest we complete the task, backing up the crew we have on the Petraw ships. Such a breach of protocol won’t happen again, Captain. You have my word on it.”
The rotund Klingon nodded and finally moved, turning to head back to the lift. “I will hold you to it, Commander.”
“As will I,” Desan added, cutting the signal.
Once the Klingon left the bridge, Riker settled down once more and felt a fresh ache in his shoulders.
The good news was there was no dampening field on the verdant planet. The bad news was nothing technological was showing up on the screen. Picard completed several full-circle turns before shutting down the tricorder and pocketing it.
There were plenty of life signs. The planet was teeming with humanoid life, birds, animals, and insects. No electronic signals were detected, no radio communications, nothing to imply anything more than primitive development. As a result, Picard was faced with the full impact of noninterference directives. He had to somehow find the device, which failed to register in the vicinity of the gateway, and do so in a manner that prevented the culture he was to find from being altered.
He believed in the Prime Directive, absolutely. It was just coming into play at a damned inconvenient time.
Picard exhaled for a moment, clearing his mind and preparing to plot a course of action. As he inhaled, and concentrated, he detected the faint aroma of cooking meat. First, it told him there were intelligent people nearby, which was a start. Second, it provided a direction. Finally, it triggered a rumble in his stomach, reminding him that he