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Data shook his head, never looking up from his console. “Nonoperational due to the radiation, Captain.”

“Lieutenant, bring us within tractor range, best possible speed, then plot an immediate return course back into the planet’s shadow. Data, prepare to take them in tow.”

Now they were rushing headlong toward the vessel they’d just spent the last six hours trying to elude. The ship grew from a dot to a saucer with two under-slung nacelles. Picard was able to read

U

.

S

.

S

.

SAMSON

across the saucer in the blue glow of the tractor beam.

A Federation officer appeared on the screen, square-jawed and distinguished-looking, with wavy silver hair and captain’s pips on his uniform. “Looks like you win this engagement, Jean-Luc.”

“If we don’t survive this, Roger, nobody wins.”

The captain grunted. “Impulse is down. Main power is down. I’m routing all available secondary power to shields and structural integrity.” On the screen, Picard could see the Samson’s bridge shake as the tractor beam took hold.

“Full ahead, Mr. Hawk.”

“Shields are down to twenty-five percent, Captain.”

“Put everything you can between us and the star, Data. And keep an eye on the Samson’s shields. If they fail, we may have to protect them as well.”

There was an uncharacteristic moment of hesitation before Data replied. “Aye, sir. Radiation flux still increasing. I estimate six minutes before it peaks.”

“Thirty seconds till we enter the penumbra, Captain,” said Hawk, referring to the area of partial shadow behind the planet. They would not be truly safe until they entered the total darkness of the umbra, a narrow cone directly behind the planet.

“The Samson’s shields are failing,” said Data, “I am attempting to compensate.” He tapped rapidly at his console. “Our shield power is draining rapidly, Captain.”

“Star on-screen,” ordered Picard. The glowing red eye of Pantera filled the screen, and as he watched, the black disk of the planetary remnant began to slide across it.

“Radiation is falling,” reported Data, “but shield power is becoming critical.”

“Just a few more seconds, Data. A few more seconds- “

The star vanished behind the planet, and they were instantly treated to a stunning sight as the visible cone of shadow appeared around them, outlined by brilliantly illuminated clouds of dust and glowing energetic plasma. Streaks of light and color hundreds of thousands of kilometers long danced around them. Even Data stared at the screen, awestruck.

Picard tore his eyes from the screen. “There’ll be time for sightseeing later. Status.”

“I’m assuming a stable position behind the planet while we make repairs,” said Hawk.

“Shield power is already returning,” said Data. “There is widespread damage, but most is minor. Commander La Forge reports we should be fully operational within the hour.”

“Very good. Contact the Samson and see if they need any assistance with repairs. Mr. Hawk, keep us in the planet’s shadow for now. Let’s give our shields a rest.” Picard stood and tugged at the hem of his tunic. “Number One, you have the bridge. I’ll be in my ready room.”

He instinctively turned to port, then remembered that the Sovereign-class Enterprise-E had the ready room to starboard. It caused but the slightest swerve in his step, yet it made him feel no less the fool. Perhaps a new ship is a good thing. Maybe I was getting too comfortable, too set in my ways.

The ready room had an enclosed, intimate feel, with a single vertical window through which he could glimpse the nebula’s stunning streamers of yellow, green, and gold beyond. He ignored them and slipped behind his slender arc of a desk, inlaid with dark hardwood from some world he had yet to identify. “Computer, open a channel to Captain Adrian on the Samson.”

The screen came to life. The Samson’s ready room had been fitted with a large window onto the bridge, and in the background, Picard could see a flurry of activity. Captain Roger Adrian initially was turned away, concerned with some other matter. Finally