Requiem - Michael Jan Friedman [19]
Briefly, he considered trying to pull himself into the corridor and escape into the interior of the station, but his arms were nearly exhausted. He was barely able to fight the flow of air as it was.
The captain guessed that he had less than a minute before he lost his battle and submitted to the inevitable. He began to hyperventilate intentionally, knowing that he would need to oxygenate his blood as much as possible to ensure maximum survival time in the vacuum of space.
But his efforts were cut short when something slammed into his right arm and shoulder. He registered the blow as a fleeting pressure, and then he felt himself flying through the airlock toward the open door.
In the same instant, he saw the station convulse around him, shaking as another surge of white energy shot through the superstructure. But this surge didn’t dissipate. Instead it seemed to continue and grow. In that last instant, Picard was certain that the vacuum of space was the least of his troubles—and then a blast of whiteness took him.
Chapter Two
AS A MATTER OF REFLEX, Commander Riker turned his head and shut his eyes at the brilliant flash on the main viewscreen. A moment later, he remembered that the effort was unnecessary—the optical system automatically filtered out dangerously bright light,
Willing his eyes to stay open, Riker saw the nearest portion of the doughnut-shaped space station enveloped in a long pulse of blue-white light. It was as if the initial flash of energy was frozen in place for long seconds.
“Riker to shuttlecraft. Come in, Mr. Worf.”
No response.
“Riker to Picard.”
“No response to hails, sir,” Data reported.
Damn, the first officer thought. “Sensors, Mr. Data? Can you get a fix on the shuttle?”
The android shook his head almost imperceptibly. “No, sir, too much interference from the power surge.”
Riker watched the station, its nearest segment awash in light, and felt completely and utterly useless to his captain and crewmates on the away team—who, for all he knew …
And then there was a momentary flicker in the cloud of light that hung around the station. After a moment, Riker was sure, the light was dimming.
“Power levels dropping,” announced Data.
The first officer could see that for himself. The nimbus of light and energy quickly dulled to a haze and then disappeared, leaving the affected part of the station with small points of light emanating from the windows.
“Station power at nominal levels,” Data said.
“Any sign of the away team?” Riker asked anxiously.
The android manipulated the controls at the ops station for a moment. “Yes. I have located the shuttle, and I am receiving life-form readings from within.” The exec heard Troi let out a breath of relief beside him.
“However,” Data went on, “shuttle communications and propulsion are out.”
Riker got up. “Throw a tractor beam around the shuttle. I’ll meet it in bay three.” Making his way to the turbolift, he noticed that Deanna was right behind him. They didn’t speak a word as they entered the compartment, but they didn’t need to. The counselor wore her concern on her sleeve, and the first officer knew he was no harder to read than she was.
The ride seemed interminably long, though Riker knew it was really only seconds. Then the doors opened and he practically sprinted to the landing area, just as the shuttle was being brought through the forcefield that separated the shuttle bay from the vacuum of space.
A quick glance told him what he needed to know. The shuttle was completely dark inside and out. That meant power had been knocked out completely. Still if they hadn’t been hurt by the blast, the away team would be fine; even without life-support, a shuttle would be safe for at least an hour.
The craft touched down with the help of the bay tractor beams. The moment it touched the deck, Riker nodded to the two waiting technicians. The men fixed a capacitor to the shuttle next to the door and hit the switch.
The door slid open and Worf was outside almost instantly, face-to-face with the first officer.
“We were unable