Gauntlet - Michael Jan Friedman [60]
But the story there was much the same. Even if the Stargazer managed to get through the breach at hand, she would be unable to get through the collection of vortices beyond that. The gaps were simply too narrow for her, too rife with destructive forces.
As before, Idun was compelled to slide them to starboard in search of something more promising. However, they hadn’t gone very far before another twister became visible in the distance, threatening to cut off their lateral progress before long.
There was one more opening to starboard before they reached that point—one other chance to make it through both this set of vortices and the next one. The helm officer brought the Stargazer to a halt in front of that opening.
Leaning forward in his center seat, Picard took stock of the situation. The gap in front of them was certainly large enough to accommodate the Stargazer. However, the widest channel beyond it was considerably narrower, and considerably more daunting.
On the other hand, it was broader than any of the other second-rank openings the captain had seen. Perhaps even broad enough to grant them passage if they fought long and hard enough.
Idun was looking at him again. As before, Picard nodded. “Take us through,” he said.
Punching in the requisite commands, the helm officer urged the ship forward. On the viewscreen, the whirlwinds before them appeared to grow larger, exerting more and more influence as the Stargazer sailed boldly between them. Smaller spirals of energy spun off from the main bodies, assaulting the ship.
The deck beneath Picard’s feet kicked and rolled, balking at Idun’s attempts to remain in control. An aft console sparked and gave rise to a slender plume of black smoke, requiring the attention of a crewman with a fire extinguisher.
And still the Stargazer plunged deeper into the jaws of pure, unbridled force.
Suddenly, something whipped them in the direction of the twister to port. Idun made the correction with a burst of thrusters, forcing them back on course. Moments later, they were rocked again by magnetic forces, but they managed to get through that setback as well.
Idun was getting better at this, Picard remarked to himself. She was navigating this corridor between the vortices with more skill and confidence than she had displayed in navigating the corridors that came before it.
Finally, the worst of the passage was over. The vortices began to peel away on either side of them, relinquishing their hold on the Stargazer—and revealing the even greater test that lay ahead of her.
“Shields at sixty-four percent,” Gerda reported, even before the captain could ask.
Sixty-four percent, Picard repeated to himself. It was remarkable, given the challenges they had met. But would it be enough to see them through the challenge to come . . .
And what lay beyond it?
Picard eyed the phenomena between which they hoped to pass. They stood there like the gates of hell, pillars of cold fire that spun and undulated and writhed in what seemed to be the most hideous torment.
As the captain had always heard, misery loved company. The Stargazer had no choice but to give them some.
Picard could feel the tension on his bridge as Idun took them into the opening. It was a palpable sensation, like that of a violin string stretched to its breaking point.
And the trouble they had expected wasn’t long in coming. First there was a rumbling, more felt in one’s bones than heard. Then the Stargazer was wrenched hard to starboard, throwing the captain and everyone else to the deck.
The console next to Paxton’s erupted in a fountain of sparks, forcing the communications officer to recoil from it. As a crewman went to douse the fire, a second one broke out.
Picard staggered to his feet and eyed the viewscreen, where the image of the vortices had rotated a dizzying ninety degrees. Worse, the helm was unmanned. The captain started for it, ready