Taking Wing - Michael A. Martin [138]
After a beat, everyone working on the bridge sounded off. Then, over the intercom, each department head reported in.
“We’ll have power restored in a few minutes, Captain,” Dr. Ra-Havreii reported from the engine room. “I only wish I knew what just happened to us.”
“That makes all of us, Commander,” Riker told Titan’s new, if provisional, chief engineer. “We’ll let you know once we figure it out ourselves.” He turned toward the science console, beside which stood both Jaza and Dakal, the latter of whom appeared to be utterly guilt-stricken. “Any ideas about that, Mr. Jaza?”
The bridge doors slid open before Jaza could answer. Riker turned in time to see Admiral Akaar step out onto the upper level.
Intent on his scanners and monitors, Jaza said, “My best guess is that the rift’s energies somehow interacted with our scanning beams.”
The static that dominated the main viewscreen settled down to the prosaic image of black space, punctuated by countless stars. Riker didn’t recognize any of the constellations. But then, he didn’t expect to, so deep inside Romulan space.
“Meaning what?” Riker asked.
Jaza looked up, his expression mild. “We’ve been drawn over the edge of the rift’s event horizon, Captain.”
“Then—where is the rift?” Riker asked, gesturing toward the main screen, which stubbornly continued to display nothing but stars and trackless empty space.
Tuvok rose from his tactical station, an almost haunted look on his face. “It appears that the question isn’t where the rift has gone, Captain. It is where we have gone.”
Riker was liking this situation less and less. “Meaning?”
“Meaning I have begun running comparisons of the stars in this volume of space with our stellar cartography database. Titan seems to have abruptly shifted position.”
“Shifted,” Riker said, cold fingers of dread clutching at his guts. “Shifted how far?”
“My preliminary estimate is a distance of about two hundred and ten thousand light-years.”
Riker tried to get his mind around that. “That would take us well outside the Milky Way galaxy.” Pointing toward the star-dappled viewscreen, he added, “That hardly looks like intergalactic space.”
Jaza, who had apparently been attempting to check out Tuvok’s findings, straightened up from the console he had been hunched over. “That’s because we seem to be inside one of the Milky Way’s small, irregular satellite galaxies. I’ll want to consult with Lieutenant Pazlar to make sure, but I think we’ve landed smack inside the Small Magellanic Cloud.”
Riker noticed then that Tuvok and Akaar had both turned visibly pale.
“Neyel territory,” Akaar said quietly.
Tuvok nodded. “So it would seem.”
“You two have been here before,” Riker said. He wasn’t asking a question.
“Yes,” Akaar said. “On Excelsior. Over eighty years ago. The Neyel made this place their home centuries ago, long before the Federation came to be.”
“These…Neyel,” said Vale. “Is that what the locals call themselves?”
“Yes,” Tuvok said, impassive but still pale with obvious surprise.
“Humanoid?” Deanna wanted to know.
“More than that, Commander,” Akaar said. “The Neyel are human.”
Riker felt his jaw drop involuntarily, his gaze turning back to the viewscreen. Humans? Out here?
And as Titan sailed on through the alien galaxy, her captain wondered what else awaited them among those unfamiliar stars.
THE VOYAGES OF THE
STARSHIP TITAN
CONTINUE IN
THE RED KING
About the Authors
MICHAEL A. MARTIN’s solo short fiction has appeared in The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction. He has also coauthored (with Andy Mangels) several Star Trek comics for Marvel and Wildstorm and numerous Star Trek novels and e-books, including this volume and Titan: Book Two—The Red King (forthcoming); Star Trek: Worlds of Deep Space 9 Book Two: Trill—Unjoined;