Star Trek_ Generations - J M. Dillard [48]
Soran felt a surge of wild, dark rage, the same fury he had experienced more than a century before toward the Borg. The situation was no different now: Picard was trying to steal Leandra and the children from him a second time.
All compassion fled Sorans soul. He would do whatever necessarywould gladly strangle Picard, the entire Enterprise crew, with his own handsif it would help him return to the place he now thought of as home. Soran pulled out his watch with fingers that trembled faintly, glanced at its implacable face, then snapped it shut.
He turned to the Duras sisters. Theres no time for this. Eliminate them.
BEtor gaped at him as though he were mad. That is a Galaxy-class starship! We are no match for them.
Soran took a deep breath to calm himself, to dissolve the frustration that threatened to devour his reason. He would not yield. There was a solution, and he would find it, if he could manage to slow his racing thoughts …
With a burst of inspiration, he pulled La Forges optical prosthesis from his pocket, and held it before the curious women like a prize.
I think its time we gave Mr. La Forge his sight back …
On the Enterprise bridge, Picard paced as he waited for the Bird-of-Preys reply.
Maybe theyre not out there, Riker said.
Picard kept his gaze fixed on the main viewscreen, on the darkness and stars that somewhere hid an aging vessel. Theyre just trying to decide whether a twenty-year-old Klingon Bird-of-Prey is any match for the Federation flagship.
Beside him, Troi said softly, Or perhaps theyre on the surface …
Picard glanced at her. It was a possibility that had occurred to him; one that added an element of difficulty to their current predicament.
It was underscored when Worf turned from the helm to face him. Sir … according to my calculations, a solar probe launched from either the Klingon ship or the planets surface would take eleven seconds to reach the sun. He paused. However, since we do not know the exact point of origin, it will take us between eight and fifteen seconds to lock our weapons on to it.
Picard gazed at him grimly, but said nothing.
Thats a pretty big margin of error, Riker said softly.
Too big. Picard took another restless few steps, then swiveled toward the helm. How long until the ribbon arrives?
Approximately forty-seven minutes, sir, Data replied.
The captain released a silent sigh of frustration. I have to find a way to get to Soran … He remembered the look of desperation in the scientists eyesone close to madness; yet there had still been reason, there, too. Instinct said that Soran was not a willing murderer; and if Guinan had managed to adapt to life outside the nexus, then perhaps Soran could be persuaded as well.
It would not be easy. Picard had studied the scientists biographical information; his young wife and children, all killed by the Borg. Indications were that the Borg had interrogated Soran briefly before the scientist escaped; cause enough, the captain knew, for madness … and for a reason to think he could get through to the scientist.
He understood what it was to lose ones family in a brutal instantand what it was like to have ones mind, ones person invaded by cold-blooded force.
He started as the helm beeped a warning.
Captain, Worf said, Klingon vessel decloaking directly ahead. They are hailing.
On the viewscreen, a patch of velvet blackness wavered, then transformed itself into a Bird-of-Prey. Onscreen, Picard ordered.
As he watched, the vessel vanished, replaced by the toothily smiling images of Lursa and BEtor.
Captain. Lursas tone was one of feigned warmth. She leaned forward in her chair, her long dark hair streaming down onto metal-and-leather warrior regalia. What an unexpected pleasure.
Picard felt his expression harden. Lursa, I want to talk to Soran.
Her smile grew coy. Im afraid the doctor is no longer aboard our ship.
Then Ill beam down to his location, Picard countered. Just give us