Tooth and Claw - Doranna Durgin [35]
Picard turned away from the viewport, an abrupt move. “Picard to Data—would you join me a moment, Mr. Data?”
“Certainly, sir,” Data said; almost immediately, the door chimed.
“Come,” Picard said, just shy of impatience, and when Data entered, gave him no chance to inquire. “Mr. Data, given the Enterprise ‘s superior scanning ability, how long would it take us to reach Fandre?”
Data didn’t hesitate, didn’t blink the way a human might have, tripping over the implications of the question. “As compared to a shuttle? What time we save with our scanners, we would lose to our size and the need for precision maneuvering. Sir, may I ask—”
“No,” Picard said.
“Sir, if you are considering leaving orbit, I think you should be aware of the latest reports from Ntignano-straight from the horse’s mouth, so to speak.” He ignored Picard’s blink of surprise. “Theoretically, the massive singularity carried by the doomsday probe should have resulted in predictable, incremental increases in the sun’s fusion rate, until it reached the point of nova. However, that has not been the case. There have been several surges in the fusion rate; the star is enlarging more quickly than anticipated. While the current evacuation procedure will remove all refugees from Ntignano before the nova occurs, the solar flares and other artifacts of the increasing fusion rate will kill them long before that.”
“I see,” Picard said. Not good news. But there was, at the moment, nothing he could do about it, regardless of the Enterprise’s position.
Except… Geordi’s mapping project. Perhaps it was time to consider the suggestion more seriously.
“Thank you, Mr. Data,” he said, his mind already returning to Geordi’s written request, and the details of the project. “Dismissed.”
As Data left, Beverly Crusher breezed in, back in her uniform and med coat. Crusher breezed everywhere, light on her feet, creating enough of her own wind to ruffle her fiery hair on a regular basis. Always intent on something.
At the moment, that something seemed to be him.
“JeanLuc, I need to talk to you,” she said, dispensing with any preamble.
He gestured at the couch, and seated himself behind his desk. “What is it?”
She hesitated a moment, as if suddenly realizing she hadn’t thought out how to tackle her concern. “I understand that discussion with the ReynKa isn’t going well.”
Picard gave a genteel snort. “The discussion with the ReynKa isn’t going at all.”
“And … Will? Have you heard anything about Will?”
Of course she knew about that. Picard hadn’t told her directly, but the suspected shuttle trouble was far from classified information. “I’m afraid not,” he said. “Geordi is hoping to modify the Collins’s shields so that it can safely enter the preserve and locate the Rahjah. Local time is several hours behind ship time; they still have some daylight with which to work. And let us not forget the possibility that the transmission isn’t from Commander Riker at all, but is just another symptom of the problems with the Fandrean forcefields.”
“But you don’t think that’s the case.” It wasn’t really a question.
“No,” Picard said, answering anyway. “I don’t think that’s the case. I’m considering taking the Enterprise to Fandre to expedite the rescue.”
Alarm crossed her features. “You can’t do that!”
“I beg your pardon?”
“JeanLuc … the Ntignanos …”
“I’m aware of the Ntignano situation.” Overwhelmingly aware. Flagship captain, sent in to accomplish crucial negotiations, and thus far, a resounding failure. At this rate, the Enterprise would have done better to join the convoy of ships transporting the Ntignanos. “I also know that as things stand—until the Tsorans are willing even to talk to us—there’s nothing I can do to affect it!”
“Then find a way,” Crusher said, fierce and undeterred by his vehemence. “JeanLuc, they’re already dying. Between the injuries they’re sustaining in the
panic, the stress placed on those who are already