Planet X - Michael Jan Friedman [76]
“Our path is clear,” he told Ettojh. “If our soldiers cannot bring in the harvest, we will have to make certain no one else receives it either.”
His second didn’t answer. He just made a sound of obedience in his cranial cavities and awaited Isadjo’s orders.
Turning to his scanplate again, the Implementor wished he could reach out and crush the Enterprise in his big, leathery fist. But as long as the Connharakt’s propulsion systems were in disrepair, he couldn’t mount any kind of offensive whatsoever.
Isadjo’s mouth twisted. “This is what we will do …” he began.
Picard was standing in front of his command center, eyeing the Draa’kon vessel as if that alone would turn it to dust.
Behind him, at one of the stations rendered unusable by the Draa’kon attack, Archangel was no doubt regarding the Connharakt as well. He seemed even fitter than the captain had expected after his conversation with Dr. Crusher. In fact, one would scarcely guess what sort of injuries the mutant had sustained. However, if he had any “insights” regarding his teammates, he had yet to share them with anyone.
Picard sighed. He should have known Archangel’s presence would be less than productive. The man was reckless, irresponsible—
Suddenly, Ensign Suttles called out his name.
Picard glanced at the tactical officer, who had taken over in Sovar’s absence. “Yes, Mr. Suttles?”
“Sir, the Draa’kon are powering up another hull port. But it doesn’t seem to be a directed-energy device.”
The captain returned his attention to the screen. If the enemy wasn’t bringing another weapon to bear, what were they doing?
Suddenly, he got his answer—as a cluster of linked black spheres shot out from the Connharakt and headed for Xhaldia. “What is that?” he asked.
“Scanning,” said Suttles. “Sir, it’s some kind of explosive device.” He tapped out a command and read another monitor. “It’s headed for—”
Picard knew the answer even before the ensign uttered it.
“—Verdeen!” Suttles gasped.
The captain cursed himself for not having seen it in advance. With the transformed denied to the Draa’kon, the aggressors had decided no one else would have the uniquely talented youths either.
Of course, the enemy’s directed-energy weapons couldn’t penetrate the planet’s energy barrier. So they had to try a different tack—an explosive device powerful enough to kill the transformed and everyone else in the vicinity. And if the device boasted its own guidance system—which was no doubt the case, since its target was deep in Xhaldia’s atmosphere—even the Draa’kon couldn’t call it back anymore.
“How long do you estimate until detonation?” Picard asked.
Suttles didn’t hesitate. “Twelve minutes and thirty-five seconds, sir.”
The captain bit his lip. There was still time to do something about the device. But what?
With the Enterprise’s weapons systems offline, he couldn’t destroy the missile from where he sat. And without any of the Xhaldians’ booster satellites to help him, he couldn’t contact his personnel on the surface either.
Picard’s only chance to defuse the threat was to take another shuttle and go after it. But even then, it seemed, his options were extremely limited.
If he destroyed the device in the planet’s atmosphere, the ensuing blast would likely kill him. Nor could he beam the missile aboard his shuttle, since the transport process might detonate it as well.
Seize control of the device with a tractor beam? The captain doubted he would be able to pilot a shuttle through Xhaldia’s energy-laden atmosphere and perform such a delicate tractor operation at the same time—even if he had help from one of his remaining officers.
In the end, he told himself, there was really only one course of action open to him. He would have to catch up with the device and set it off with a phaser beam. If his life was the price he had to pay to save Verdeen from destruction, he would do so—and do it gladly.
Picard turned to Rager. “You have the bridge,” he told her. Then he headed for the