Three - Michael Jan Friedman [7]
But if he could forestall what was shaping up to be a fair-sized war with repercussions in the Alpha Quadrant and beyond, it would make his other accomplishments pale by comparison. It would be his signature achievement, the one that cadets would study at the Academy for hundreds of years to come.
All he would have to do was head off the harbingers of the conflict one by one. But it wouldn’t be easy. He would need to use all the resources at his disposal and deploy them with surgical precision.
Fortunately for McAteer, he was blessed with a cadre of veteran captains, men and women whose judgment had been tested time and again under the most dangerous and demanding circumstances. The officers in command of the admiral’s vessels were among the most experienced in the fleet.
With one notable exception.
Sighing, McAteer tapped out a command on his keyboard. The image on his screen changed, its grid and its swarm of red dots giving way to a white-stars-and-laurel-leaf design on a field of startling blue.
The Federation insignia. It was what came up on the [17] admiral’s monitor whenever he started to compose a subspace message to one of his subordinates—in this case, the green apple he would have dearly loved to replace with an older and more seasoned officer.
McAteer still hoped to do that. But for the time being, he was embroiled in the most complex card game of his career, and he had to play the hand he had been dealt.
Leaning forward in his chair, the admiral said, “Good day, Captain. I trust this communication finds you well. By the time you receive it, you will have dropped off your weapons officer at Wayland Prime and should be awaiting new orders. Well, here they are.
“You’re to proceed to the Mara Zenaya system, where our long-range scans have revealed the appearance of a peculiar anomaly—one that wasn’t there the last time we surveyed the system, and may not be there indefinitely. You’re to examine this anomaly close-up, record your findings, and transmit them back to us here on Earth.”
McAteer frowned. “I know what you’re thinking. Why send a Constellation-class starship on what appears to be a simple scientific survey mission? As it happens, this may turn out to be more than a simple survey mission—since Mara Zenaya is situated on what appears to be the edge of Balduk territory.”
Every captain in the sector was familiar with the Balduk—a fiercely proud and intensely territorial species with whom Federation vessels had clashed on more than one occasion. Any captain would also know that the Balduk had a propensity for “creative” charting when it came to the boundaries of their designated space.
“The Balduk haven’t yet come out and said that they [18] own the anomaly,” said McAteer, “but my guess is that they will do so just as soon as we show up. That’s been their modus operandi since our first contact with them. As soon as they see something of value to someone else, they figure it should be of value to them too.
“So you’re going to have to perform a balancing act. We don’t want to get into a knock-down-drag-out with the Balduk, but we also don’t want to lose a chance to study this anomaly.”
The admiral smiled. “Good luck, Captain. I look forward to hearing all about it. McAteer out.”
Tapping out another command, he ended the message. There, he thought. That ought to do it.
Normally, he wouldn’t have been concerned about the outcome of such an assignment—a walk in the park, really, compared with the missions most of his captains were embarking on these days. But then, it wasn’t just any captain he was dispatching to the Mara Zenaya system.
It was Jean-Luc Picard.
Second Officer Elizabeth Wu found the Stargazer’s chief engineer just where the computer had said he would be—in an echo-laden Jefferies tube that led to the forwardmost part of the ship’s saucer section.
There, bolted directly onto the Stargazer’s tritanium skeleton, was the forward tractor beam emitter—a sleek, cylindrical assembly about two