The Devil's Heart - Carmen Carter [29]
Shattered ceiling panels dangled from overhead, spilling out streams of wire; the deck was tilted and walls were buckled; and several cracked equipment consoles squealed softly as if in pain.
Scattered throughout this wreckage were a half-dozen bodies of the Ferengi crew.
Despite his sense of urgency, Picard realized that the task ahead of them was rather daunting.
If the Heart really was here in the midst of all this rubble, how could he find it? Would he even know it when he saw it?
“Confirmed,” Data said after a sweep of the tricorder. “There are no life-signs.”
At a nod from the captain, Worf and the android moved forward, picking their way through the rubble.
Picard chose a third path, but he had taken only a few steps when his boot heel caught on a loose deck plate, throwing him off-balance. He reached a hand out to the nearest console to steady himself, but a humming sound warned him not to touch the surface. He quickly shifted his weight and recovered his footing.
“The Signet’s plasma bolts seem to have fused the electrical system,” explained Data.
“And electrocuted the crew,” said Worf, warily prodding aside one of the dead crewmen who lay slumped over the helm.
“Are we in any danger?” asked Picard as he stepped over a loosely coiled conduit.
“The initial charge has dissipated,” said Data. “However, the short circuits in the system are capable of delivering a shock that would prove uncomfortable to the Human body.”
“Thank you, Data. I’ll keep that in mind. ” His breath was frosting now as the ship’s heat continued to leach into space.
Picard continued his inspection while keeping a healthy distance from any sparking equipment panels. He scuffed the toe of one boot kicking aside loose rubble and snagged his uniform jacket on the sharp corners of twisted metal; his back began to ache as he contorted his body to peer into dark corners. From the crashing sounds off to his left, the captain could tell that Worf’s search technique was even more vigorous.
It occurred to Picard that he might not be the first one to find the Heart.
“Captain,” called out Data. “Is this what you are seeking?”
Casting aside all caution, Picard pushed his way through the wreckage to the front of the bridge.
He found the android kneeling by the corpse of a Ferengi DaiMon. Either the electric current had contorted his face into a rictus of ecstasy, or he had been killed in the throes of rapture.
In his hands he clutched a dull, rough rock.
“The Heart,” whispered Picard. “It must be.”
Data carefully pried the object out of the DaiMon’s grip and proffered it up to the captain.
Picard could feel his pulse racing as the weight of the stone settled into his palms.
It was warm.
CHAPTER 9
“Captain’s Log, Stardate 45873.6 The Enterprise broke orbit from Atropos to respond to an automated distress call from a Ferengi vessel …”
Picard had aged well, decided Miyakawa as she reviewed the captain’s mission report.
As a young cadet, his prominent nose and forehead had overpowered his face, but in his middle years these same strong features were compelling.
“… encountered a Marauder-class starship …”
Cadets Picard, Crusher, and Keel had moved in tandem through Starfleet Academy, and the common expectation among their classmates had been that each member of the trio would garner early commissions and eventually end up back at the Academy teaching a new generation of cadets.
Life had worked out a bit differently for them; Jean-Luc was the only one of the three left alive.
But then I’m not where I thought I’d be either.
“… all crew aboard the vessel were dead.
I’ll provide more details when they’re available.”
To Miyakawa’s surprise, Picard’s narrative came to an abrupt end at that point.
“Wait a minute! Dead of what?” she demanded of the blank screen on her desk viewer.
Picard had omitted a wealth of vital information from his log coordinates for the Marauder, the basis for its distress call, even the next destination of the Enterprise.
“Dammit,