Requiem - Michael Jan Friedman [46]
“Have you made any progress at all with the alien technology?” Riker asked finally.
“Very little, Commander. We have the subspace sensors and one monitor operating, but as we suspected, the memory seems to have been purged by the power surge. And so far, we haven’t been able to isolate or operate any of the manual controls.”
Riker could hear the frustration in Geordi’s voice; he knew precisely how the chief engineer was feeling. So far, they had been thwarted at almost every turn since the moment they arrived at the damned alien station!
“Do your best, Geordi. And continue to report in at regular intervals. If you even suspect that the power surges are becoming a hazard, I want you to get the away team safely off the station. No heroics—I can’t afford to lose any of you.”
Riker almost added “as well as the captain,” but he refused to give in to the doubts that were rising to the surface. If he didn’t keep up hope, the crew would undoubtedly lose faith as well. And without hope, they couldn’t continue to do the impossible.
“Understood. La Forge out.”
“Entering system, Commander,” Worf announced from behind him.
During the conversation with Geordi, Riker had pitched his voice low, so the bridge crew wouldn’t hear. But his security chief, he knew, had heard everything. Still, Worf’s voice was as sure as it was when the search began. Giving up simply was not in the Klingon’s makeup.
Riker gave the order and the ship came out of warp. They made the orbital scans in thirty-nine minutes—a full seven minutes under the estimate. Well, at least, something had been going right on this mission. The crew and ship were continuing to perform minor miracles several times per shift.
“Time until next system?” he asked Worf.
“Five hours,” came the Klingon’s reply.
In that case, Riker decided, it was time for him to get some rest. Ro was currently on a rest period of her own, but Worf would be able to handle things easily enough during the warp journey to the next star.
Riker turned to his security chief. “Lieutenant, you have the conn. I’ll be in my quarters.”
Worf nodded, and the exec headed for the turbolift. He was almost there when Ro came bounding out of the lift doors. Riker could tell from the tension in her eyes that she hadn’t been doing any resting during her rest cycle.
“Commander, could I have a word with you?” she asked.
Riker walked past her, entered the turbolift, and turned around. “If you don’t mind accompanying me.”
Ro immediately joined him in the lift.
“Deck seven,” Riker said to the computer. Then he turned his attention back to the Bajoran. He had been expecting this visit. In fact, he’d expected it sooner. For a moment, he decided to forestall the inevitable. “You were under orders to rest, Ensign.”
She frowned. “I was following a new line of inquiry that I saw as vital to our mission. It superseded my need for rest.” There wasn’t even a hint of apology in her voice.
Ro watched her commander, obviously waiting for a response or, Riker supposed, a challenge. But the ensign waited only a moment, apparently taking her superior’s silence as a signal to continue.
“Sir, I have found a way to allow the Enterprise to complete the search in the time remaining to us.”
“Ensign, I understand—” Riker cut his own words off. He had been expecting Ro to challenge the wisdom of continuing an effort as apparently hopeless as the search for the captain. He had been prepared to flat-out order her to carry out her instructions and not engage him in useless squabbling. Instead, he found himself momentarily thrown by her declaration.
“What do you mean?” Riker said.
Ro licked her lips. “I have contacted a consortium of Bajoran merchant ships in the area, who have agreed to discuss the possibility of joining the search. There are six ships available, and if we deploy them carefully, we can cover all of the systems in the search area before our deadline.”
Was it possible? Riker thought. Were there merchant ships in the area? And if so, why hadn’t