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“No, they won’t,” Nog said. “With that many ships, we can calibrate the tractor beams with each other. The Rio Grande can serve as the coordination point. It can take point and make sure the warp fields and the tractor beams stay aligned.”

“Yeah, but you could only do that at warp 2,” Duffy said, “and then you’d never make it.”

“We can do it at warp 4,” Stevens said before Nog could speak. Nog grinned. Finally, one of them’s on my side.

“Fabe—”

“I’m serious, Duff, we could do it at warp 4. I mean, c’mon, warp 6 is the normal cruising speed for most ships anyhow. The da Vinci just took a major pounding from the Androssi and it can still do warp 4. It’s baby steps. Think out of the box, for a change.”

Duffy rolled his eyes. “Don’t get cute on me, Fabe. Besides, there’s another problem: think about what kind of subspace disruption you’re going to cause. Communications will be spotty at best—how the hell’re you going to coordinate everything when you won’t even be able to stay in consistent contact?”

Nog deflated. “I’m not sure,” he admitted reluctantly. “But there has to be—”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Blue said, this time making a much higher-pitched tinkling noise. “There’s a new method of close-range ship-to-ship using tight-beam tachyon pulses. The Romulans developed it about twenty years ago, and finally decided to share it about a week before the Dominion War ended.”

Blinking, Nog said, “I didn’t know about that.”

“Neither did I,” Duffy said.

Another noise, this one of a medium pitch. “You people really need to keep up on the trades. It’s all they’ve been talking about in the Journal of the Federation Consortium of Engineers and Technicians for the last two months.”

“Can you build one of those?” Nog asked.

“Of course,” Blue said. “I have the replicator pattern stored on the da Vinci computer.”

Duffy had a few more objections, but either Nog or Stevens or Blue had an answer for it. Before long, even Duffy was sharing Nog’s enthusiasm—he certainly seemed excited when they finally contacted Captain Gold on Empok Nor’s viewscreen.

“There’s only one problem,” Duffy said after doing so. “We need twelve ships.”

Gold’s face broke into a smile. “Oh, let me just make a call.”

CHAPTER

11

David Gold had been listening to the latest letter from his granddaughter for the sixteenth time when the call from the bridge came.

“Message from Earth, sir,” said Lieutenant McAllan.

“On screen,” Gold said, once again removing the image of Ruth’s face and replacing it with the Starfleet logo—which was, in turn, replaced by the familiar visage of Captain Montgomery Scott, the liaison between the S.C.E. and the admiralty.

“I got your request, David, and I’ve got to ask you—have ye gone completely daft?”

Scotty had a huge grin on his face, which was the only reason why Gold wasn’t stunned. After all, Nog’s plan was the type of thing that Scotty himself would have come up with during his days as a full-time engineer.

“No more than usual. The real question is, can you do it?”

“Yes and no, lad. There are nine ships en route to the Trivas system now. They should be there within a few hours. I’m afraid that’s the best I could do. And even then, I can’t promise that they’ll do what you’re askin’. That’ll be up to you an’ your lot to convince ’em of.”

“Fair enough.”

“By the way—which one o’ that motley bunch came up with this scheme? Duffy? P8 Blue?”

“Actually, it was the Ferengi kid from DS9—Nog. His idea, his specs for implementing it, and his request for twelve ships.”

With a twinkle in his eye, Scotty said, “Well, then, I think it’s only appropriate for me to be the one to break it to him that he only gets nine. Besides, I’d like to meet the man who came up with this. ’ Tis only a pity I won’t be able to shake his hand.”

Gold smiled and tapped his combadge. “Gold to Nog. Report to the captain’s quarters immediately.”

Within a few minutes—which Gold spent giving Scotty a quick verbal report on the entire Empok Nor mission—the doorchime rang. “Come in,” Gold said, and the doors