The Devil's Heart - Carmen Carter [104]
“In the future …” murmured Picard.
His brow furrowed with the intensity of his thoughts, and one of his hands dropped down onto the Heart. “Yes … yes, of course. That means there is still time to act.”
“Intriguing. What particular action does this call for?”
“Thank you for your help, Mr. Data.” The captain did not remove his gaze from the map.
“That will be all for now.”
Data’s positronic brain forged a new connection, one between the star map and the Devil’s Heart. As he left the ready room, the android began to calculate the probability that another catastrophic event would occur soon.
Troi felt unusually conspicuous walking onto the Enterprise bridge, and the empath quickly determined the focus for that unease Lieutenant Worf was tracking her progress from the aft turbolift to the command center.
She sensed in him the usual uneasiness that always seemed to underlie their interactions, especially those involving Worf’s son, Alexander; but this was overshadowed by a new set of emotions that were more difficult to untangle. For some reason she could not fathom, the Klingon was wary of her.
Riker and Picard were engaged in a somber discussion involving shield repairs, so she quietly slipped into place beside the captain.
“… no question that we must improve our shield strength,” continued Picard. “This mission isn’t over yet, and we dare not continue without maximum protection.”
“Agreed,” said Riker, although Troi could easily sense his apprehension about this decision.
She could also read the question in his eyes when he stole a quick glance in her direction. A subtle shake of her head was all it took to indicate that Guinan could not help them, but Worf must have seen the gesture from his perch above because the Klingon’s suspicions broadened to include the first officer.
The captain cast his voice upward to engage the intercom system. “Picard to La Forge.
Let’s proceed with the deflector shield repairs before we attract any more company out here.”
“Acknowledged, Captain.”
While the captain and the chief engineer exchanged technical information about the repair procedure, Troi surreptitiously evaluated Picard’s physical and emotional condition. His fatigue was even more pronounced than before; he seemed to hoard his strength by moving only when absolutely necessary.
On the other hand, the growing mental agitation she had sensed in the conference room was gone now. The counselor wondered if Picard’s composure had been restored by the Heart, which was tucked securely into the crook of his arm.
“Conformal grids on the primary hull have been deactivated,” continued Geordi.
“Graviton generators are going off-line … now.”
Troi shivered in response to the feeling of vulnerability that suddenly radiated from the entire bridge crew. She strengthened her empathic shields to block against the projected emotions, yet she was still left with her own feelings of helplessness.
As the first few minutes of the repair project dragged by, the thought of four hours stretched into an eternity …
… that was shattered by yellow alert.
“Captain,” called out Data. “Sensors detect an object two hundred thousand kilometers dead ahead.”
“There!” Riker pointed to the main viewscreen, and Troi looked up to see that the placid vista of distant stars had begun to shimmer and ripple with distortion waves. A ship was uncloaking before them.
“Phasers locking on target,” announced Worf tersely.
“Hold fire until my signal, Lieutenant,” said Picard as he rose to his feet.
Troi could sense that the captain was straining against the desire to shoot first without waiting to see the face of their enemy, but Picard’s Starfleet training repressed the urge to provoke a battle they could not hope to win. Even a lightly shielded vessel would withstand a phase r attack long enough to retaliate against the unshielded Enterprise.
The phantom form took solid shape.
Angled wings stretched wide on either side of a narrow-necked forward hull.
“It’s a bird-of-prey,” said Riker, his chest heaving