The Children of Hamlin - Carmen Carter [26]
“Well met, Farmer Patrisha,” said the officer upon entering. He carried himself with all the confidence she had noted in their first meeting but none of the impatience.
“After too long, Captain Picard.” Patrisha decided to come to the point immediately, which was not a Farmer custom, but she clouded the source of her information in a way typical of her people. “A very disturbing rumor has arisen in our community. Some among us believe the Enterprise is no longer journeying toward New Oregon.”
Picard looked immediately to her son. “You’ve become good friends with Wesley Crusher, haven’t you?” His demeanor was calculated to inspire terror in the heart of a young boy.
“He didn’t tell me, if that’s what you mean,” said Dnnys with a scowl. “I may be a Farmer, but I’m smart enough to notice a major course change. All I have to do is look out a port window.”
“Yes, quite so,” admitted Picard. He turned back to Patrisha. “Your son is to be commended on his powers of observation.”
The compliment did not distract her. “Then it’s true we’re no longer heading for New Oregon.”
“The diversion is minor,” said Picard. “Starbase Ten has requested that we rendezvous with another ship in this sector to exchange some necessary trade goods. As you can see, the Enterprise has many functions besides exploration; we serve as a passenger transport, merchant ship, and rescue vessel.”
His litany was a subtle reminder of their own imposition on his command. The captain of their last transport had been less restrained. A four-month voyage with the Farmers had tasked the last of Bucher’s patience. She had dropped the entire community off at the nearest Federation starbase and no amount of pleading could win a way back on board the Forox freighter. Remembering the shame of that abandonment weakened Patrisha’s resolve. “Thank you for taking the time to explain.”
“Not at all,” he said genially. “That’s what captains are for.”
After Picard had left, and before Dolora could creep back in, Patrisha asked her son, “Was he telling the truth?”
“I don’t know,” Dnnys answered sullenly. “And Wesley won’t tell me what’s going on.”
Riker and Data crowded in on either side of Lieutenant Yar, peering intently at the sensor readout on her bridge monitor.
“Got it!” cried Yar in triumph. “Heading thirty-four mark twelve.”
Data nodded a confirmation to the first officer. “The residue can be traced fairly easily now that the element profile has been determined.”
Picard stepped off the turbolift and saw the cluster of officers. “What’s all the excitement?”
“The chase is afoot, sir!” announced Data with great enthusiasm. “We have found a trail of blood.”
“Blood? On my ship?”
Riker grinned at the captain’s confusion. “Data was speaking metaphorically, Captain. We’ve determined a way to track the Choraii ship.”
“Excellent,” said Picard, heading down to the captain’s chair.
“Actually, the use of the word blood was not strictly metaphorical.” Data followed after the captain. “An examination of fragments gathered from the battle site shows that the Choraii ship is constructed of an extraordinary blend of both organic and inorganic matter. By destroying several of its spheres, we actually wounded the ship. Our sensors have now been calibrated to detect the particular combination of elements released from the site of the injury.”
Riker had come down the ramp on the far side of the bridge. He met the captain at the command center. “We’ve tied the data input directly to navigation. Geordi will follow the signal feed rather than compute a straight trajectory that could miss the trail.”
La Forge flexed his fingers with a theatrical flourish. “I’m ready whenever you are.” Flying free, without computer controls or a set course, was a pilot’s dream. Everything else was filler to be endured until the next chance to take over the helm.
“Proceed at warp six,” ordered the captain.
“What’s wrong with you?” asked Beverly Crusher when her son