Requiem - Michael Jan Friedman [37]
Except that instead of the haunted visage he remembered from pictures of the survivor, the captain was looking at an animated young face. The remainder of Picard’s memory re-formed itself instantly. He remembered the logs from the Enterprise, the nearly hysterical face of Lieutenant Harold as he insisted that “there had to be a reason” for the horror he had witnessed.
Lost in thought, Picard jumped slightly when Santos spoke to him. “Your crew … you must have been close to them,” she said gently. The captain turned to her, confused for a moment. Of course, she was referring to the loss of his merchant crew. “You must miss them,” she added.
“Yes,” Picard said. It was true enough.
“Would you like to have the tour another time?” she asked.
“Not at all,” the captain said. “I’m looking forward to it.”
“Approaching Aexix system, sir,” Worf announced.
“How many class-M worlds?” Riker asked.
“Sensors indicate that the second planet and one of the moons of the fifth planet are class-M.”
“Acknowledged, Mr. Worf.” The first officer turned to Ro, who was sitting in the seat he customarily occupied. Riker gave a slight nod and the ensign was immediately on her feet.
“Mr. Halloran,” she called to man at conn. “Come out of warp as close to the second planet as possible—and execute a low orbit at one-eighth impulse power. When Lieutenant Worf reports that scans are complete, use one orbit to accelerate to one-quarter impulse and head for the moon of the fifth planet.”
Next, Ro turned to the woman at ops. “Mr. Chang, collect data from Lieutenant Worf’s and Ensign Halloran’s stations and calculate time necessary to execute scans and maneuvers.”
Chang went to work immediately. Less than a minute later, she turned around with a look of tired satisfaction on her face. “One hour and thirty-seven minutes, sir.”
Under any other circumstances, Riker knew, less than two hours for the scans they needed would have been extraordinary. But in the last two days, that kind of performance had become routine—allowing them to cover eight systems directly and eliminate two dozen others with long-range scans. It was a fine effort, but it had used up nearly half of the time they had left, and had allowed them to cover perhaps one-fifth of the search area.
The cost was fairly high as well. The constant jumps in and out of warp, in addition to the difficult impulse maneuvers, were taking their toll on the engineering section at a time when both Geordi and Data were off the ship.
And the crew was showing signs of strain. Both Halloran and Chang had worked much more than a full shift. Riker would have to relieve them as soon as this system was scanned.
Having people at ops and conn who weren’t fresh was inviting trouble. A slight miscalculation or a slow response could be disastrous during a high-speed impulse maneuver in a planet’s gravity well.
And they weren’t the only ones he needed fresh. Riker knew that he, Ensign Ro, and Lieutenant Worf had all been pushing themselves too hard as well. For Riker, the evidence was in the sandpaper texture that his eyelids had taken on. And though they didn’t show it, he knew that Ro and Worf were feeling the strain, too. Riker would have to order four-hour rest periods for each of them in turn. The Klingon first, since he had been on duty the longest.
“Scan is negative,” Worf reported sourly.
Riker could hear Ro’s almost inaudible curse. It seemed to him that the ensign had taken on the search as a personal challenge and its failure so far as a personal affront—despite disagreeing with the search in principle. Riker was pleased but not surprised. It was, in fact, exactly what he had hoped would happen.
Ro walked over to Halloran at conn, standing over the ensign as he manipulated the controls, placing a hand briefly on his shoulder in a gesture of support. The acting captain was surprised to see the level of skill she used in handling the crew, pushing people without badgering them. He had expected her dedication—but this surprised him.
“Execute acceleration maneuver