Unworthy - Kirsten Beyer [12]
“Course and speed confirmed,” Gwyn reported.
“Increase speed to full impulse,” Eden requested.
“Confirmed,” Gwyn stated after a brief pause.
“Ensign Gwyn, initiate formation of slipstream corridor on my mark: five, four, three, two, one … mark.”
Tom felt the same slight lurch he had always imagined during the hundreds of simulations when Voyager had tested slipstream technology years earlier. He knew it was an illusory response to the sight of the formation of the violent, pulsing white tunnel that churned around the ship once the slipstream was initiated, rather than a sign that the ship’s inertial dampeners were failing.
“ Voyager has achieved slipstream velocity,” Gwyn confirmed from the helm. It was a testament to how far Starfleet had come in perfecting this technology that the ship moved with such grace and ease into a speed that made warp nine point nine look like a casual stroll.
“ Esquiline, confirm synchronization,” Conlon requested.
“Confirmed,” a male voice crackled over the comm.
Over the next thirty seconds, each successive vessel, the Quirinal, Planck, Galen, Curie, Demeter, Achilles, and Hawking, added their confirmation that they had successfully entered the corridor Voyager had formed.
Paris proudly announced, “The Voyager fleet has entered synchronous velocity.” He had to quell the urge to applaud Conlon. By any objective standard she and her fellow fleet engineers had just accomplished an extraordinary achievement.
“Well done,” Eden agreed. “Maintain heading.”
“Aye, Captain,” Gwyn replied.
The fleet would travel approximately three thousand light-years in the next eight minutes. Tom studied the incoming station reports that were constantly updated on the console in his armrest and sighed deeply. He hoped for the best, but experience had taught him that when playing with fire it was best to remain cautiously optimistic.
“Vorik, I’m reading a spike in your stabilization grid. Is there a problem?” Conlon inquired of Hawking’s chief engineer. Tom knew that bringing up the rear in this exercise was even more challenging than taking the lead, which was why Vorik’s ship had been singled out for this honor. The Hawking’s position was the most dangerous, but Tom knew Vorik could pull it off. He had trained under B’Elanna for seven years in the Delta quadrant, and served as Voyager’s chief engineer for three years after that. He’d only requested a transfer for this mission to serve under another old mentor, Captain Bal Itak, who commanded Hawking.
“The phase variance modulations are off by a factor of point zero, zero, zero, zero, one eight,” Vorik reported calmly, “but they remain within tolerance.”
“That’s got to make for a bumpy ride, though,” Paris heard Gwyn mutter to herself.
Suddenly the bridge began to rattle.
Paris cast a quick glance at Conlon who was simultaneously trying to diagnose the problem while monitoring the status of the rest of the fleet.
“Adjusting phase modulation algorithm to compensate and transmitting to the fleet,” Patel advised Conlon quickly.
“Thanks, Patel,” Conlon replied absently.
Unfortunately the new calculations were still off as Voyager continued to quake and shudder.
This had always been the challenge with slipstream propulsion, as Paris knew all too well. Even in the most stable corridor, random phase variances made maintaining course and speed at such incredible velocities difficult. The vast majority of Starfleet’s efforts in making the drive viable had been in mastering the processing speed and complicated calculations required of the main computer to adjust to the variances.
“ Voyager, this is the Achilles ,” a strained voice echoed over the comm.
“Go ahead, Achilles ,” Eden replied to the ship’s pilot, Ensign Mirren.
“Our stabilization field is approaching tolerance.” “Understood,” Eden said, her frustration mounting. Turning to Conlon she asked, “Do we need to abort?”
Conlon