Текст книги "The Red King "

Автор книги: Michael Martin

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“Life signs?” Riker asked.

“None discernible as yet, Captain. However, I am detecting rocky portions of the outer shell through which we can probably operate our transporters successfully.” The Vulcan looked up from his scanner, meeting Riker’s gaze. “The amount of space we can devote to refugees has just increased geometrically, Captain.”

“Assuming that Dr. Ra-Havreii can give us enough power to keep the transporters and tractor beams going at full bore for a couple of days straight,” Vale said, looking at Riker. “So the plan must be to fill that rock up with warm bodies, and then tow it as fast as possible toward the spatial rift.”

Riker allowed a wry smile to turn his lips upward. Once again, there was no time for rehearsal; improvisation would have to suffice, and his crew knew their licks. “Looks to me like the best plan available under the circumstances.”

Vale shrugged. “I have to admit I don’t have any better ideas right now. I say let’s try it.”

“I must agree,” Tuvok said, then resumed concentrating on his console.

Vale pointed toward the ancient husk of the still-approaching Vanguard colony. “I suppose it would be way, way too optimistic of me to hope that Vanguard can move under its own power.”

“Vanguard had no functional motive propulsion of its own when we first encountered it eight decades ago,” said Tuvok, stone-faced as he continued studying his sensor readouts. At the secondary science console beside him, Eviku was doing likewise. “Its drive units had evidently been cannibalized more than a century earlier,” Tuvok continued, rising from his chair. “As yet I have found no reason to believe that the situation has changed.”

“Of course. That figures. So we either tow it, or somebody’s got to get out and push.” Vale turned in Riker’s direction. “I see another potential problem with this, Captain.”

“Explain,” Riker said.

“I’ve got to wonder: If converting that Neyel sacred relic into a rescue ark is really such a great idea, then why aren’t the Neyel themselves trying to do it right now?”

Riker had to admit that his exec had raised an excellent question. He had no definitive answer, of course—a quick glance at the ashen-faced Frane made it doubtful that one was forthcoming anytime soon—but he still had the capacity for, and the prerogative of, choosing optimism.

Gesturing toward the expanding assemblage of conflagrations raging across Oghen’s land, sea, and sky, Riker said, “Look at the chaos down there. They’re losing ships as fast as they can launch them, and they probably don’t even know why yet. The crisis down there may have hit them so quickly that it just overwhelmed them.”

They just got caught with their proverbial pants down,Riker thought. Maybe in part because a Federation representative convinced them to stand down on their military readiness. Our fault, once again. Our responsibility.

“Captain, I must point out that several other inhabited worlds also lay in the path of the spreading pattern of spatial disturbances,” said Tuvok, who was walking back toward the turbolift to stand beside Vale. “With the Red King effect propagating superluminally through subspace, those systems will also be destroyed in a matter of weeks, if not days.”

Deanna looked pale and mournful. “Then we can only help Oghen, because it’s directly in harm’s way now. We won’t have time to do anything for the people on those outlying planets.”

“Vanguard has only a finite amount of internal space,” Tuvok pointed out. “Even if we had the time to mount other planetary evacuations.”

“Perhaps we cannot aid other endangered worlds directly,”Cethente said with a rhythmic jingling that reminded Riker of Christmas sleigh rides in Valdez. “Unless we succeed in…lulling Mr. Frane’s Sleeper back into a state of slumber.”

“How is that possible?” Vale asked. “We can’t be talking about reading it a bedtime story.”

Norellis grinned at Vale. “Actually, Commander, it’s more like a sedative, for lack of a better term. We’ve got most of the theoretical work done already.”

Riker decided he had nothing to lose by allowing himself to choose hope over reticence. If nothing else, it was a good way to keep despair at bay.

Raising Jaza’s padd, he turned to face Vale and Tuvok. “Chris, Tuvok, get to the transporter room, or wherever else you need to be to coordinate a large-scale evacuation to Titanand Vanguard. And get Ra-Havreii and his people to work on making sure that big rock is habitable and shipshape for towing. I’ll bring you both up to speed later on how we’re going to handle the Red King.”

Riker glanced back at Frane, whose entire attention was still absorbed by the tragedy that continued to unfold on the viewscreen. He’d hoped that the horrors he was witnessing might galvanize the young Neyel to offer to assist in the rescue of his people. Instead, Frane merely seemed to have frozen in his tracks.

He’s no good to anyone in that condition,Riker thought, imagining how much the presence of another Neyel might help calm the legions of the confused and panicked as they arrived. He briefly considered ordering Hutchinson to escort Frane down to sickbay, where Dr. Ree or Dr. Onnta could evaluate him for emotional trauma.

He decided that there would be time for that later. That is, if there’s any time left foranything later.

Placing his focus squarely on Jaza, Riker gestured across the bridge toward his ready room doors. “Show me what your team has come up with, Mr. Jaza. And do it fast.”

“Can you really put this thing to sleep?” the captain said, seated behind the ready room’s heavy Elaminite desk after having concluded a quick call down to Dr. Ra-Havreii in engineering.

Kent Norellis was surprised at how discombobulated the new Efrosian chief engineer had sounded when the captain had assigned him the task of prepping the ancient O’Neill colony for towing back to the Red King anomaly. Ordinarily, Norellis would have been relieved to learn that he wasn’t the only one aboard whose nerves sometimes got the better of him. Under the current circumstances, however, he decided that he’d greatly prefer the company of unflappable, steel-nerved daredevils.

Now, as the impatient gazes of both the captain and Admiral Akaar buffeted him front and back, the astrobiologist felt as though he were caught in a crossfire between two such men.

“Putting it deeper into sleep is a pretty good metaphor for what we’re proposing,” Norellis said.

Responding to the confused expressions on the faces of both Riker and Akaar, Jaza stepped in, an apparent rescue maneuver that forced excessive heat and color into Norellis’s cheeks.

“At least we believe there’s a way to prevent the Sleeper from fully ‘waking up,’ ” Jaza said.

Riker handed the padd up to Akaar to allow the admiral to review the science team’s notes. “I think you may be straining the metaphor a bit here, Mr. Jaza. Unless I’m reading this wrong, your plan calls for artificially collapsing the spatial anomaly that brought us here in the first place.”

Jaza nodded. “Well, it isthe extradimensional conduit through which our so-called Red King—which is nothing less than a rapidly expanding, sapienogenic protouniverse—is able to wreak destruction in thisuniverse.”

Riker made a sour face. “I wish you hadn’t reminded me that some sort of intelligence seems to be guiding this thing.”

“Why?” Norellis said. He almost physically kicked himself for blurting out the question, because the room went silent. Once again, every eye and sensory cluster in the room—Cethente stood motionless in the corner, where he resembled an antique Argelian lamp—was fixed on him.

“Because,” Akaar said in a low, almost sepulchral rumble, “the issue of sentience raises certain unavoidable and perhaps irresolvable Prime Directive issues. As the ranking officer aboard Titan,I cannot simply ignore those issues.”

“Nor can I,” Riker said, looking frustrated, but also determined. “But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t make every conceivable contingency plan.” His icy blue eyes lit squarely on Jaza. “All right. Please explain for us lay people how you plan to go about this.”

“It involves, in essence, ‘jamming’ the neuromagnetic signatures the anomaly is giving off,” the Bajoran said. “Our computer simulations indicate that the simultaneous strategic detonation of about two dozen warp cores could essentially force the protouniverse—and the spatial rift that brought it here—back into de Sitter space, where it came from in the first place. The protouniverse would vanish, and the rift that let it into our universe would be sealed back up.”

“Preferably the rift would seal up behindus,” Norellis said. “Afterwe retrace our steps through the anomaly’s interspatial corridor back to Romulan space.”

“Assuming that’s possible,” Riker said.

“Again, the simulations we’ve been running look good,” Jaza said. “Of course, the only way to test them definitively is by actual experiment.” He paused momentarily, allowing everyone to consider his words in silence. Then he continued, his tone as serious as the inscription on a granite tomb. “We have exactly one shot at this.”

Riker sighed. “Of course. Okay, let’s assume we get back home, with the spatial rift slamming shut right on our stern. Won’t our Red King simply emerge again in some other universe?”

“Perhaps,”Cethente said in a voice like a carillon. “But it might lie dormant for billions of years first. It might even return here billions of years from now.”

Riker stroked his beard, a look of concern crumpling his brow. “So would we be arbitrarily killing off a universe full of sentience? Or just postponing the Sleeper’s wakeup call for an eon or two?”

Or maybe we’re just letting the Red King continue his dream for another billion or so years,Norellis thought. So we don’t all suddenly pop out of existence like soap bubbles. Or dreams.He was glad that he seemed for once to be exhibiting the good sense not to babble his every errant thought out loud.

“We really can’t say for certain that we’d actually be killinganything ,”Cethente said. “We might simply be transplanting this nascent universe to someother universe. One that possesses no sapience to be wiped out by the, ah, Sleeper’s full and final awakening.”

“Conversely, we can’t prove that we’re notslaughtering an entire universe full of sentience,” Jaza said. “Of course, we all may well be doing that unwittingly every time we use the sonic shower. Or take an antibiotic.”

“Don’t get us started down that path, Mr. Jaza,” Riker said, allowing a small grin to escape. “We’ll all end up as crazy as a Starfleet Academy exophilosophy instructor I once knew.”

Still studying the padd, Akaar shook his head, then handed the device back to the captain. “My objection is less ethical than practical. The power requirements necessary for success are extraordinary.”

Norellis couldn’t argue with that. He could, however, imagine Ra-Havreii’s head exploding like a supernova when he finally saw the equations on the padd.

“I’m afraid there’s no getting around that, Admiral,” said Jaza. “We would need the warp cores of several dozen Neyel vessels to generate sufficient power. But surely we can persuade the locals to help, given the seriousness of the current crisis.”

Riker was shaking his head. “I’ve tried talking with the Neyel military officers we rescued. Several times. They still behave as though they’re prisoners of war, even now. I’m afraid even Frane isn’t very trusting, and he’s the least paranoid of the bunch. I’m sorry, Mr. Jaza—I think you might have better luck trying to persuade Suran and Donatra to let us blow up theirfleet inside the anomaly.”

Akaar actually chuckled at that, a deep sound that made Norellis’s spine feel as though someone had just dipped it into a beaker of liquid nitrogen.

“Actually, the subspace signatures of Romulan singularity drives might make them better suited for this purpose than Neyel warp cores,”Cethente said without a trace of irony. “In fact, we conceived the notion of using multiple vessels in tandem operation after reviewing how the Red King used Commander Donatra’s fleet to destabilize that G-eight star three days ago.”

“Unfortunately, Romulan participation looks like a moot point right now,” Riker replied, once again completely serious. “It looks like you and Dr. Ra-Havreii are going to have to find some other way to generate the power you’ll need.”

Norellis considered the spectacular explosions everyone had witnessed on the bridge viewscreen. He began to wonder if it might be possible to harness thatenergy somehow. Too bad I’m not a dedicated physics guy,he thought, turning the idea over and over in his mind.

“Are you really going to attempt this, Captain?” Akaar asked, interrupting Norellis’s reverie.

Riker stood, though he still had to look up to meet the iron-haired admiral’s stony gaze. “Until a better idea comes along, I want to have every contingency plan up and ready to execute. Do you have any objections, sir?”

Norellis wasn’t sure, but he thought for a moment that he saw Akaar smiling, though very faintly. “None at all, Captain. Whenever possible, I like to extend Prime Directive protection to Starfleet captains by not interfering any more than absolutely necessary. Please keep me advised as to—”

The desk’s comm unit spoke up then, issuing Lieutenant Rager’s voice. “Bridge to Captain Riker. We have incoming ships. Dozens of warp signatures. At least fifty vessels.”

Norellis felt another jolt of cold fear, though he was surprised that it had taken so long for the Neyel military to react to Titan’s presence over the catastrophe-besieged planet Oghen. Would the Neyel ships simply lash out, shooting first and asking questions later?

Riker touched his combadge. “Neyel vessels, Lieutenant?”

There was a pause, presumably while Rager checked her console readouts. Then: “No, sir. They’reRomulan .”

“I’ll be damned,” Riker said. “Hail Donatra and Suran, Sariel, and pipe them in here.” Shortly after Riker tapped the combadge channel closed, the computer atop his desk exchanged its neutral white-on-blue Federation seal for the anxious face of Commander Donatra.

“Do you require assistance, Captain Riker?”

Riker grinned broadly at the impassive Romulan. “Sometimes I think I’ve needed assistance every time we’ve ever seen one another, Commander. And yes, we can use all the help you can give us. How is your fleet at performing planetary evacuations and towing ten-kilometer-long hollow asteroids?”

“I believe we can manage,”Donatra said, her lips curling upward slightly in a sly half-smile. That looks downright creepy on someone who looks so much like a Vulcan,Norellis thought.

A thoughtful expression crossed Riker’s face. “I hope you don’t mind my asking, Commander, but what changed your mind?”

Her smile didn’t waver. “Even Romulans may have a ‘change of heart,’ Captain. Please brief me in person after my fleet establishes orbit. Donatra out.”

Riker closed the channel, then grinned at Jaza and Akaar. “What do you suppose they’ll say if I ask them to let me blow up their ships?”

Chapter Fifteen

U.S.S. TITAN,STARDATE 57037.0

In the eyes of Harn, the alien captain was nearly beside himself with both urgency and anger. But he’s maintaining control admirably,the Neyel Hegemony Navy subaltern and helmrunner thought.

“Why should we cooperate with our jailers in any way?” Harn said to the leader of his captors, the man who identified himself as Captain William Riker.

It was the first time since the traitor Frane had had Harn and his subordinates brought aboard the alien ship that he had deigned to answer any of the alien captain’s direct questions. Though Harn had consented to speak with his diplomatic representative—a surprisingly attractive, if soft, female—despite his men’s whispers about her preternatural ability to see directly into the Neyel soul….

Standing at the threshold of the surprisingly comfortable cell Harn had been issued, Captain Riker nodded to the pair of armed underlings who flanked him. They immediately withdrew and vanished from sight.

The one called Riker stepped into the room, alone, apparently unarmed, and showed no reticence whatsoever. Harn, who stood at least a full head taller than the alien and was considerably broader in the shoulders, was impressed by his captor’s fearlessness.

“Because you are the ranking Neyel military officer on board,” the alien commander said, suddenly looking both unhappy and unfriendly. “And we’re not your ‘jailers.’ In fact, I’ll be happy to set you and your troops down on Oghen right now—if you’re really serious about wanting to face your planet’s death unassisted.”

Suspicious, Harn glared at Riker. “You say you want us to assist in your efforts to rescue my people,” he said, pitching his voice low to make clear that he wasn’t one to be trifled with. “Yet you have only a single, not-overly-large ship.”

“That’s not quite true. But we’d want to rescue as many of your people as our single, not-overly-large ship can accommodate, regardless,” Riker said, scowling deeply. “And as many of the natives as possible.”

“The alienborn kaffirs?”

Riker’s restrained anger finally appeared to get the better of him. Moving so quickly that there was no time to react, the alien grasped Harn by the uniform lapels and spun him face-first into the nearest bulkhead. The impact nearly knocked the wind from him.

Harn regained his feet, his tail switching dangerously behind him as he turned to face Riker and prepared to grab him. At that moment he wanted nothing more than to tear him limb from limb.

But the alien captain stood his ground, either brave or foolish, his hands raised in some sort of martial-skills posture. Harn had no idea whether or not this Riker was a competent fighter; but it was beyond doubt that the alien captain was becoming enraged by Harn’s responses to his overtures.

“I assume you’re referring to the people whose ancestors lived on Oghen before the Neyel colonized it,” Riker said.

Harn shrugged. “Call them what you will.” Why did this creature care so much for those who were so clearly unimportant? It was no wonder that the late Drech’tor Gherran’s wayward son had gravitated toward these soft-skinned weaklings.

“We’re going to put as many people as we possibly can aboard Vanguard. The asteroid colony that orbits your Coreworld.”

Harn’s leathery brows rose involuntarily, and his tail tensed behind him. “Holy Vangar?” So this soft creature really did intend to bring far more to bear against this crisis than his lone vessel.

Riker nodded, though it was clear he was still angry. “Once Vanguard is filled with as many people as we can save, our rescue fleet will tow it someplace safe. We’ll do our best to maintain order among the refugees inside the asteroid, Harn—with or without your arrogant presence. But we need the help of as many local people as possible if we’re to succeed in saving anybody.Preferably people who’ve already been trained to deal with emergencies.

“We need you and your people, Mr. Harn.”

Harn’s desire to strike at the alien suddenly evaporated. He was speechless. He turned, crossed to the room’s inadequately long bed and sat.

After gathering his thoughts, Harn looked up at Riker, who was obviously impatient to get his planned rescue under way. “You have a dedicated diplomatic officer on board,” he said at length. “Why hasn’t she approached the Coreworld’s government with this request?”

Riker shook his head. “Your civil authorities have collapsed. Everyone is fleeing the catastrophe, even your military. Apparently it’s every Neyel for himself.”

Riker’s blue eyes flashed concern, anger, desperation. “Your world needs you now. So you need to help mehelp you!”

The news chilled Harn to the marrow. He allowed his gaze to drop again to the deck for a measureless time. Then he looked straight into Riker’s impatient, oddly hued eyes.

“What must I do?”

STARDATE 57037.2

Melora Pazlar felt apprehension twisting in the pit of her stomach as she and the others listened to Commander Tuvok. Fifty-three specialists had been hastily assembled in the launch bay, including among them every available security officer, most of the medical staff, those with piloting capabilities, several engineers, and various members of the exobiology department.

“What makes our shuttles any more resistant to the protouniverse’s energy discharges than the Neyel vessels?” Lieutenant T’Lirin asked. Pazlar saw others nodding in agreement with the Vulcan security officer’s entirely logical question.

“While the actual physical threat to our shuttles is as grave as that facing the Neyel craft, our technological capabilities are significantly more advanced than theirs,” Tuvok said. “Our sensors will allow us to pinpoint in advance the likeliest sites of energetic interactions between the protouniverse and normal space. Even those few moments of forewarning should give us sufficient time to take appropriate evasive maneuvers and reinforce our shields as necessary.”

Pazlar could only hope that Tuvok was right about that, though she already had her doubts as to how much protection any deflector shield system could provide. After all, space itself—including, very possibly, the space occupied by Titanand her eight shuttlecraft—was actually breaking down. She knew she was about to face a trial by fire.

Of course, today wouldn’t be her first such experience. In addition to her skills as a stellar cartographer, Pazlar had maintained excellent pilot credentials over the years. She was used to evac missions, having flown in nine of them while stationed aboard the Aegripposduring the Dominion War. But in those days, her chief worries during her rescue assignments had been enemy ships and their firepower; here, today, she was going up against an entity more powerful than anything ever encountered by either side during the war.

Lieutenant Bowan Radowski moved forward in response to Tuvok’s curt nod. “Coordination of the transporters from the shuttlecraft to the Vanguard habitat will be handled as much as possible from aboard Titan,aided by three of the Romulan ships that will be dedicated solely to this task,” he said. “However, when you’re in the thick of things down on Oghen, we will likely be unable to help you. The catastrophes that are occurring all over the planet will compound the problems for your rescue efforts. Because of the subspace interference being generated by the protouniverse, we’re expecting to have a difficult time achieving transporter locks on targets entirely from orbit. That’s where you shuttle teams come in, identifying en masse targets at close range and relaying the transporter locks to the orbiting rescue fleet ships. At the same time, you’ll be using your shuttlecraft’s own transporters to round up stray refugees; if the best you can do is to grab a few individuals at random, then that’s what you’ll have to do.”

Pazlar felt yet another pang of anxiety, but didn’t voice the question that gnawed at her. How do we decide who to save and who to leave here to die?She could see from the pained, somber expressions all around her that others were likely wrestling with the very same question.

It was a huge question, she realized, and answerable only in that it was patently unanswerable. She had to make a conscious decision not to listen to the small voice inside her that continued to ask it, and hoped everyone else could do likewise. Otherwise, we’ll be paralyzed with indecision. And if that happens, how can we rescueanybody ?

“Once your shuttles are full, break every speed record you can to return to the Vanguard habitat,” Radowski said, his dark-skinned features looking strained and serious. “Since the transporters aboard your shuttlecraft may not be powerful enough to penetrate Vanguard’s crust, we’ll use Titan’s transporters and those of the Romulans to offload every survivor you have, so you can get back to the surface of Oghen as quickly as possible.”

Ranul Keru stepped forward as Radowski finished. The security chief clearly wasn’t operating at full bore—his skin still had an ashen tone, and Pazlar could see bulky bandages underneath his loose-fitting uniform tunic—but she had to admire his tenacious devotion to his duties.

“The main reason that we’re having security aboard the shuttles—besides providing additional hands to carry out the rescue efforts—is that there will be no time to warn the Neyel or the other species down on Oghen of our efforts. As far as many of them know, we could be invaders who are kidnapping them to enslave them, or we could even be the cause of the disasters they’re facing.”

Aren’t we?Pazlar thought.

Keru continued: “Therefore a big part of your job will be to contain and calm the crowds as they’re rescued, whether they trust you or not.”

As Keru spoke, Pazlar saw Tuvok exchange a look with Mekrikuk, the Reman who had, until minutes ago, still been confined to sickbay. For some reason that she found unfathomable—and which hadn’t yet been explained to anybody present—Tuvok had brought the Reman with him to the briefing.

Her gaze moved again, this time to Admiral Akaar, who stood to one side, apparently listening intently. Pazlar wasn’t at all certain why he was present, since he hadn’t opted to take direct control of any of the ground rescue missions. Perhaps he was the kind of man who could never be content to wait idly for the reports of subordinates, even when there was little he could actually contribute to the mission at hand.

The tall, gray-haired Capellan had been a paradox during the brief time she had known him so far; while she hadn’t appreciated his commandeering of the stellar cartography labs in Titan’s pre-launch phase and the early days of their first mission, he had been nothing but charming and deferential to her and most of the officers with whom she had seen him interacting. The only friction she had witnessed at all seemed to be directed at Captain Riker and Commander Troi, and even that seemed to have lessened greatly over the last week or so. Pazlar assumed that Akaar was present now in order to ascertain that Starfleet protocols were being followed to the letter, since the admiral wouldn’t be participating directly in the evac mission.

Keru finished speaking, and Tuvok began handing out specific shuttle assignments. All eight of the type-11 shuttles were being deployed. Pazlar was given the shuttlecraft Gillespieto pilot, along with a crew compliment of six: Lieutenant Pava Ek’Noor sh’Aqabaa, an elite member of the security force and an Andorian; Lieutenant Eviku, the Arkenite exobiologist; Ensign Vanda Kaplanczyk, a human conn officer who would act as Pazlar’s second; Dr. Ree, Titan’s Pahkwa-thanh chief medical officer; and Cadet Torvig Bu-kar-nguv, a Choblik engineering trainee.

As her team assembled around her, Pazlar wondered how many of the doomed Neyel and other races they would actually be able to save.

STARDATE 57037.3

“When are you going to tell her, Will?”

Standing beside his command chair, Riker regarded Deanna with a slight scowl. He wasn’t certain how best to break the news to Donatra that their plan to halt the advance of the protouniverse might involve the destruction of a good number of her fleet’s ships.

“I’m not sure,” he said. “When I think the time is right. For now, our immediate concern is making certain that the rescue operation goes well.”

He knew he wouldn’t be able to rely on his wife to help him identify that “right moment.” She was going to be on the Vanguard habitat, along with Christine Vale, a dozen engineers and other crew, and the Neyel soldiers he had deputized as officers of the peace. The hope was that they would be able to get the habitat out of mothballs and spaceworthy enough to be towed back to the spatial rift without killing the hordes of refugees that were about to be crammed aboard her. Fortunately, Jaza had determined that Vanguard still contained an acceptably breathable, if stale, atmosphere.

So all we have to do is get her ready to move out of here, and all inside of a day or so,Riker thought, glancing at the image of the ancient, pockmarked asteroid colony that was displayed on the main viewscreen. Before the interspatial energy flare-ups become too numerous and widespread to let us even try it.

He briefly considered having Christine engrave the motto, “How hard can it be?”on Titan’s dedication plaque, as a monument to his foolish optimism. Or maybe I ought to have somebody etch it onto my tombstone,he told himself. Assuming any of us ever sees home again.

Please try to think happier thoughts, Will,Deanna said without speaking aloud.

How can I, Deanna?came his wordless reply. This is the biggest challenge I’ve ever faced. Suppose I’m not up to it? What if I’m not strong enough?

He turned back toward where she sat, and she stared into his soul with eyes that radiated pure confidence and love. Then she stood, grabbing the padd that contained the Vanguard colony’s internal schematics. You have no idea just how strong you really are,Imzadi, she told him, her thoughts as smooth as Tholian silk as they traveled along the mental-emotional link they shared. This is going to work. We will save hundreds of thousands of lives. Maybe millions.

Yes,he thought back to her. But how many millions more will we be forced to leave behind?

She leaned up and kissed him, taking him somewhat by surprise. They had agreed that they would try not to show overt signs of affection on the bridge. Still, the kiss was far from unwelcome, and a quick glance around the room showed that everyone else was intent on their various tasks of the moment.

I’ll see you soon,Imzadi ,Deanna sent to him. He liked that she never told him good-bye anymore; it was yet another sign of her faith in him.

As he turned to watch her go, he saw Admiral Akaar in the back of the bridge near the turbolift, from which he had evidently just emerged. His expression told Riker that he hadseen the kiss, but revealed nothing about whether he considered it appropriate or not. Riker suspected that the answer was “not.”