The Children of Hamlin - Carmen Carter [40]
The two men left the Ready Room together and walked back onto the bridge. Picard noted the scrutiny of his first officer but said nothing to assuage Riker’s curiosity as to what had happened. Maintaining a poker face, the captain took his usual position at the command center, Deelor sat down at his left side. Then, and only then, did Picard look his first officer in the eye. “You may call the approach, Number One.”
“Impulse power, Mr. La Forge,” ordered Riker as the ship neared the rendezvous site.
“Leaving warp drive, now.”
The first officer addressed the helm again. “Sensor readings, Mr. Data.”
“Still no sign of the Choraii.”
“Full stop to engines.”
Ruthe’s location had been reached. The Enterprise hung in empty space.
“Well, Ambassador?” asked Picard sharply. “We’re here, at the appointed place and at the appointed time. Where are the Choraii?” He had put his career on the line for this encounter. If the B Flat failed to appear, the gesture would be somewhat anticlimatic.
“Patience, Captain. I’m certain they will come.” Deelor looked over his shoulder and frowned. “As will Ruthe.”
“Actually, we are somewhat ahead of schedule,” Data pointed out. “We have arrived one minute and fifteen seconds early.”
Picard was too tense to tolerate the overliteral statement. “Data, there are no ships within scan range, which means the Choraii will be late. If they come at all.”
“Captain!” cried out Yar. “Long-range sensors are picking up an object now. Just entering … no, it’s already well within range. Approaching fast, incredibly fast!”
Picard tensed in place. “Raise shields.”
“Would you look at that!” said Geordi, pointing to the viewer.
Seconds before there had been no image on its surface. Now, a small dot appeared, then zoomed into prominence on the screen. The B Flat tumbled end over end, hurtling ever closer to the Enterprise.
“They’re coming right at us,” warned Yar as the cluster of reddish-orange bubbles filled the frame. A Yellow Alert klaxon screamed its protest at the approach.
Picard took a deep breath, then said, “Evasive maneuvers.”
“No,” countered Deelor. “They’re not attacking.”
“How can you be so sure?” But Picard held back his next order.
At the last moment before collision, the Choraii ship stopped, its spheres quivering and shaking from the sudden deceleration.
“Twenty-two seconds early,” said Data. “Their punctuality is impressive.”
“So is their speed,” said Picard with an upraised brow. Now he understood why Starfleet had chosen an intelligence agent for a diplomatic mission.
Chapter Nine
Captain’s Personal Log: For duty’s sake I have often undertaken unpleasant tasks. Yet, I find this one especially distasteful. We are exchanging trade goods for human lives. We are paying for the return of those who should never have been taken in the first place. Is this the best that diplomacy can offer?
RUTHE GREETED the B Flat with an outburst of melody from her flute. The translator’s appearance on the aft bridge had been as sudden as the approach of the Choraii ship on the front viewer. Playing as she walked, Ruthe strolled down from the elevated deck to the command center. Her gaze never strayed from the image on the screen.
“Can we get visual contact of the interior?” Picard asked Deelor as her extended song was broadcast to the other ship.
Deelor shook his head. “No, they seem to lack an equivalent to our visual technology, even though their audio system is highly developed.”
Picard checked a second source of information. “Any comments, Counselor?”
Deanna Troi emptied her mind of her own thoughts, blocked the familiar impressions of the people around her, and studied what was left. “I can sense a strong presence that obscures the individual beings within the vessel. It’s as if the ship itself is a living being, or perhaps an extension of its inhabitants.”
Ruthe reached the end of her music. The Choraii crew answered as one in a return greeting. Four voices joined in lock-step progressions up