The Children of Hamlin - Carmen Carter [80]
Riker followed the accelerating flight of the departing engineering section on the viewer of the main bridge. With a sigh he settled back into the captain’s chair.
“I wish I could have gone with them, too,” said Troi softly from her position next to him.
The first officer shrugged away his disappointment. “Someone had to stay with the ship … and the Farmers. The Choraii could always double back and endanger the saucer section.”
“But you’re more worried about the captain and the others. You want to share their danger.”
“Yes,” admitted Riker. “But if Ruthe does her job properly, they won’t be in any danger.”
Captain Picard surveyed the battle bridge from the command dais. This captain’s chair was a broad, solid throne, and he sat with back erect; a thin furrow on his brow marked his unconscious effort to adjust to altered surroundings.
The stardrive bridge echoed the layout but not the graceful design of the saucer’s command center. Utility demanded a room of reduced dimensions, with less distance between the compact duty stations. The main viewer was smaller, the ramp to the aft deck was replaced by a high step. Instrument readings were displayed across the back wall, but all other walls were smooth and featureless.
The bridge officers had moved to their accustomed positions, but few provisions had been made for passengers. Andrew Deelor no longer had a chair next to the captain; he stepped to one side and leaned against a span of bridge railing instead. Ruthe chose to sit crosslegged on the deck by his feet. Beverly Crusher had claimed a vacant seat at an auxiliary station.
“Sensors detect definite indications of the Choraii’s passage,” announced Data from the helm. “Navigation coordinates established.”
“Proceed at best warp speed, Mr. La Forge,” ordered the captain.
“Aye, sir,” answered the pilot, and set the Enterprise on a matching path to the alien ship. However, in less than an hour he was forced to slow the starship to impulse speed.
“Sensors are losing the trail,” reported Yar from the tactical console.
Picard acknowledged the woman’s statement with a curt nod. “Thank you, Lieutenant,” he added deliberately, shaking off the influence of the sterile confines of the battle bridge. “Mr. Data?”
The android alone appeared unaffected by the oppressive interior. He replied with his customary enthusiasm for commentary. “The Choraii ships shed a continual stream of decayed organic particles, much as human beings shed dead cells from their outer layer of skin. However, over time, the concentration of residue disperses as the inertia of the drifting particles carries them in different directions, so … “
“So we’ve arrived too late to track this ship’s departure from New Oregon,” said Picard, jumping ahead to the conclusion of Data’s exposition.
“We can’t turn back now,” cried Yar. “There must be a way to keep after the Choraii.”
“We shall find them,” said Picard, announcing his agreement with a studied calmness that subdued Yar’s hotheaded manner without open rebuke. “Mr. La Forge, can you sense any pattern in the progress of their ship?”
“Definitely,” said Geordi. His visored eyes tracked the curving path marked on the conn navigation panel; the end of the line was already fading away. “But the movements are very complex. I doubt I could get very far without a sensor feed.”
Ruthe sprang up from the deck and approached the helm. Peering down over the pilot’s shoulder at the console panel, she studied the visual display for a moment, then shook her head. “If only I could hear where they’ve been.”
“Ah,” said Data with a self-satisfied nod. “That can be easily arranged. I have established rough musical equivalents for the travel coordinates.” He tapped his ops panel to call forth a record from the language computers. “Unfortunately, the reconstructed rhythm is arbitrary and lacks the free-flowing variation of Choraii song.”
“If there is a melody, I will find it.” Eyes closed, breath stilled, Ruthe listened twice to the sound of the starship’s journey from New Oregon to