Текст книги "The Best and the Brightest"

Автор книги: Susan Wright

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 14 страниц)

Besides, there was an elaborate gymnasium attached to the hospital for physical therapy–an integral part of the recuperation for agile Rahm‑Izad physiology. So Bobbie Ray spent several hours a day in the gym, swinging and clambering among the unusual arrangements of bars and swings. In the early evening he would grab a nap on the roof, waking up feeling refreshed for the spectacular meals that the Izad continued to prepare.

It took a few days before he realized there were three Izad cleaning his room every morning, trapped in the habit of catering to hoards of tourists. For the first time in memory, the Rahm‑Izad ruins were closed, but the Izad continued to work as hard as if there were thousands of people to pamper.

The Enterpriseherself was in orbit, leading the negotiations. Cadet Enor and Cadet Miranda had managed to place themselves in a very enviable position, but Bobbie Ray still shuddered at the risk they were taking. If the Izad got irrational and decided to get rid of a few tourists to prove their point, Jayme and Moll would end up on the losing side. But they had maintained the balance, and were getting full credit for representing the Izad in these negotiations.

He followed their progress on the Federation news service, piped in live to his deluxe suite, appropriated from the now empty quarters around the hospital. The other tourists were still quarantined in huge groups in various key ruins. Even the Rahm wouldn’t risk destroying the ruins by turning off the forcefields supporting them. They had never considered the fact that the forcefields could also prevent anyone from transporting out people who were trapped inside.

Bobbie Ray had to admire the Izad’s tactical advantage. Who would have thought they were capable of such a neat coup? He chuckled to himself, stretching under the sunset. This was his favorite part of the Rahm‑Izad day, sunny but not scorching.

“Better enjoy yourself while you can,” Jayme said behind him.

He lazily rolled over to watch Jayme and Enor come up the stairs to the roof, arm in arm. Something had happened in the past week. They seemed to have come to an understanding. Far be it from him to pry, but when two humanoids started spending every second together, their faces so close they were practically rubbing noses, you had to figure things were getting intimate.

“What’s the rush?” Bobbie Ray asked. “Are you planning another revolution?”

“No, but this one is over,” Jayme told him, relaxed and satisfied as he had rarely seen her. “The Izad are releasing the hostages.”

“So it’s over?” he asked, feeling oddly let down. He had liked the empty sidewalks and squares, like the ruins should be, as if they were suspended out of time. “I thought revolutions took a long time.”

“Not well‑organized ones,” Moll told him.

“We still have some serious points to negotiate,” Jayme admitted. “But the bulk of the work is completed. The Izad will gain their rightful voice in ruling their own world. The ruins were Izad, you know, long before the Rahm came here. But they can live together if they cooperate.”

“So it will be a few more days?” Bobbie Ray asked.

“At least,” Moll Enor agreed.

“Good.” Bobbie Ray settled back, the towel over his eyes. But he did peek once or twice, watching Moll and Jayme standing by the balustrade, leaning against each other, as the sun went down.

“Congratulations,” Moll murmured to Jayme. “It’s because of you the Izad had a chance.”

“Not true,” Jayme denied. “They were ready for this move. We both helped, is all.”

Bobbie Ray groaned loud enough for them both to turn with irritated expressions. Then he grinned, wrinkling his nose. “It’s about time,” he told them enigmatically. Then he rolled over, covering his eyes again.

The next day, Bobbie Ray did go with Jayme to the Capitol building to witness the new combined government take over the reigns of power. Now that the agreements had been made, Jayme and Moll were pulling out of the spotlight. Moll wasn’t even going to be present–she had been called up to the Enterpriseto complete some of the last details. Bobbie Ray could tell Jayme was dying of envy and would have preferred that job to this merely ceremonious one.

“I’ve never been on the Enterprise,” Jayme said for what must have been the eighth time. All of their negotiations had taken place in the Capitol building, at the Izad’s request.

The inarticulate ceremony droned on below, witnessed by dozens of sulky Rahm surrounded by hundreds of the Izad clerks who did the real work. But Bobbie Ray and Jayme were far enough away from the hurried exchange of keys–to the forcefields or the computer files, Bobbie Ray wasn’t exactly sure–that he could ask, “What happened with you two?”

“Oh, so you noticed?” Jayme smiled to herself as she smoothed her bright pink shirt.

“Everyone has noticed,” he assured her.

Jayme waved him off, knowing he was exaggerating. Instead, she nudged him to look out the nearest window. They were up high enough to see down into the street where a sudden flow of cranky tourists were running through the streets or hanging on to airbuses, intent on getting their belongings and getting out before the Izad changed their minds.

Bobbie Ray thought their panic was comical, but then he had been dealing with the mild‑mannered Izad for over a week. “Have I told you how much I enjoyed vacationing in a revolution?”

Jayme snorted, trying not to laugh at a stout colonist from the terraformed planet of Browder IV. He was running after an airbus, trying to get a foothold on the running board. “At least he can’t complain that the Izad haven’t fed us well,” she whispered. “Did you hear about the buffet they set up in the coliseum last night?”

Bobbie Ray was too curious to let the matter of Moll Enor slide. He had been there when Jayme began to get misty‑eyed every time Enor spoke, and he had seen Jayme unfailingly nurture their relationship no matter how many obstacles Enor put in their path.

“So, what didhappen with you two? Don’t tell me it’s just a wartime romance . . . the spur of danger, and all that?”

He watched her carefully, but her expression remained serene, smiling down at the chaos in the streets. “No, I think what happened is she finally had a chance to see me for who I really am, a chance to see that she could rely on me. I think we both realized we’re a good team.”

“So it’s serious between you two?”

“Serious as they come,” Jayme agreed.

“Titus will diewhen he hears about this,” Bobbie Ray laughed. Now he couldn’t wait to get back to the Academy to spread the word that Jayme–the woman who never took no for an answer–had finally bagged her quarry.

Jayme didn’t see Moll at all the final day of the Izad Revolution, as it was being called. Moll called late, from on board the ship, and told Jayme that she was calling from guest quarters, where she was planning to stay overnight. Jayme wished it would be reasonable to ask to beam up, too, but she was in her nightie and practically in bed already.

“I met an old friend of yours,” Moll added.

Jayme was feeling slightly left out of all this talk of what Commander Data had said or how Captain Picard had talked to Moll over lunch for almost half an hour about the Rahm‑Izad ruins. Jayme would give her right arm to meet these quasi‑mythical people she’d heard about for years. But they had agreed that “Ensign Enor” was the better choice to interface with Starfleet, while the more personable Jayme dealt with the Izad.

“You mean Nev Reoh?” Jayme asked, remembering their old quadmate had gotten duty last winter on the Enterprise.

“No, I did see him, but I meant someone else.”

Jayme thought for a moment. “Who else do I know on the Enterprise?”

“Guinan, the bartender.”

Jayme had to laugh. “That’s right! The night I was tracking Elma. I bet I didn’t make much of an impression on her.”

“Actually, I think she figured you out immediately.” Moll Enor ducked her head to smile, shy as always. “She congratulated me on knowing a good thing when I ran into it.”

“Thanks,” Jayme said, feeling mollified and more than a little flattered. Moll Enor was talking about herin Ten‑Forward.

“Do you want to come up to the ship tomorrow morning?” Moll asked casually.

“Do I!” Jayme gave her a look. “You knowI do.”

“Tomorrow then, 0800, be at the beam‑down point.” Moll Enor hesitated, looking closely at Jayme’s face. “I have a surprise for you.”

Moll could tell Jayme was bursting with joy to finally be on the Enterprise. One of her great‑great aunts had served on the Enterprise‑B, the Excelsior‑class starship, and a third cousin had served on the Enterprise‑C briefly, just before the ship disappeared under the command of Captain Rachel Garrett. But Jayme had told her that no Miranda had had a permanent post on board the Starfleet flagship since then. Moll had felt guilty being on the Enterprise, knowing how much it would mean to Jayme–who really deserved all of the credit for the negotiations.

“Titus is so lucky, getting a field assignment on the Enterprise,” Jayme said soon after she beamed up. “Too bad he isn’t here yet. And we have to stop by and say hi to Nev Reoh.”

“He’s down in the geophysics lab,” Moll agreed. She gestured toward Jayme’s bodysuit–an acid‑green swirled through with white streaks. When she moved, it made Moll’s eyes cross. “Nice outfit.”

Jayme shrugged, glancing at Moll’s plain black coverall. “You know me–I don’t want anyone to forget me.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

Moll Enor gave Jayme the grand tour, introducing her to the officers they encountered along the way, and making a special trip to sick bay to let the premed student meet Dr. Beverly Crusher.

Jayme shook the doctor’s hand so hard that Crusher winced as she pulled it away. But she smiled, and said, “Don’t worry about starting late, Jayme. Tyler Brannigan was number one in my graduating class from Starfleet Medical, and he decided he wanted to go into medicine in his lastyear at the Academy. He said he had to cram three years of premed into a solid year and a half of study.”

“That’s what I’m doing now,” Jayme admitted.

“Welcome to the world of medicine,” Crusher told her. “You’ll never get another good night’s sleep.”

Jayme was radiant by the time Moll took her to deck sixteen, through a door into one of the spacious crew quarters. Since they were on the bottom of the saucer section, the long wall slanted inward, providing a startling view of the brown and red planet of Rahm‑Izad.

“Ohh . . .” Jayme breathed in admiration. “Is this where you stayed last night?” Without waiting for an answer, she wandered into the adjoining room and bounced down on the bed. “Does everyone get such a big place to live, or is this just the guest suite?”

“These are my quarters,” Moll Enor told her.

It took a moment for her meaning to sink in. “You were offered a post on the Enterprise?”

“Yes, Captain Picard told me last night.”

Jayme made an inarticulate sound, rushing over to hug her. But her voice broke as she said, “Nobody deserves it more than you.”

Moll kissed her and hugged her back. They were both thinking of having to part, but leave it to Jayme to put that aside, knowing how important this was to her.

“When do you go?” Jayme asked.

“We leave tonight.” At Jayme’s silence, she hurried on, a catch in her own voice, “There’s no need for me to go back to the Academy. I can have my things sent on.” When Jayme was still silent, she added, “We both knew I would be leaving on assignment once I graduated.”

“Yes, but, the Enterprise. . .” Jayme said. “You’ll be at all ends of the Alpha Quadrant.”

Moll Enor cleared her throat. “I trust you to track me down no matter where I go.”

They both grinned at that, then they hugged each other again. Moll felt so reassured by that simple contact, by knowing how much Jayme truly loved her. She hadn’t realized how long she had relied on her best friend to always be there for her. Now they were partners.

“Maybe some day I’ll get a post on the Enterprise, too,” Jayme said valiantly, wiping her eyes. “But I have years of school ahead.”

“We both have a lot of hard work to do.” Moll pulled back, giving Jayme a shake. “But this isn’t the end for us. We’re just beginning. You remember that.”

Chapter Ten

Summer, 2371

MOLL ENOR SERVED ONE SHIFT every other day at the third aft station on the bridge, known as mission ops. All the new ensigns who were on the command track served their required years at mission ops or assisting the operations manager.

Ensign Enor slid into the seat, smiling as she relieved Ensign Dontorn, serving his second year on board the Enterprise. Mission Ops duty was mostly a matter of watching the computer activity of specific research projects, taking care of unforeseen situations that didn’t fall within the parameters of the preprogrammed decision‑making software.

Seated at ops was Lieutenant Meg’han instead of Commander Data. Moll never needed to refer primary mission conflicts to ops when Data was on duty. He would see the need before she was capable of registering what was happening, and it was eerie the way the primary routing would change under her fingers, with the lower‑priority tasks failing neatly into a line for her to deal with at a more human speed.

The other ensigns often talked about how superfluous they felt under Data’s command, knowing that he didn’t need their assistance. But Moll privately considered it a comfort to know things were under control no matter what she did. Assisting ops was also somewhat better than her occasional posting at the environmental systems station, which was usually left staffed.

“Sir!” Lieutenant Meg’han announced. “I’m receiving a distress call. It’s from the Federation Observatory at the Amargosa solar system.”

Lieutenant Commander Kriss ordered, “Red alert! Inform Captain Picard, Lieutenant. Helm, set a course for the Amargosa Observatory, warp five.”

Moll Enor hoped it wasn’t a false alarm. All of the senior officers were in the holodeck, celebrating Lieutenant Commander Worf’s new rank.

But she didn’t expect them to return to the bridge wearing intricate costumes of blue, red, and white. Moll didn’t realize she was staring at Worf’s bell‑shaped hat until the officer removed it and gave her a reproving shake of his head.

“Just do it!” Captain Picard ordered Commander Riker. Everyone on the bridge instinctively jumped at the unusual sound of Jean Luc Picard losing his temper.

Moll Enor felt as if she had been slapped back to duty, and she instantly looked to see what disaster had occurred during her moment of inattention. But Data took ops, and Lieutenant Meg’han came back to mission ops, bumping Moll to the only panel left on the bridge–environmental systems station. It was either that or leave the bridge, and since they were in emergency‑response mode, she took the station and began monitoring life‑support activity.

Since environmental systems didn’t really need her attention, she listened as data was relayed from the sensors, indicating that the Amargosa solar observatory had been attacked. There was no response from the crew–a compliment of nineteen scientists.

When they reached the observatory and there was still no communication from the scientists, most of the senior staff joined the away team to the station.

Moll Enor moved back over to missions ops, and there she had a bird’s‑eye view of the action. Mission ops was responsible for monitoring the telemetry and tricorder data from away teams as it was relayed to the proper departments. She watched the inflow of data, wincing at the readings of the dead humanoids who were part of the observatory team. In all, there were twenty dead, and one injured Federation scientist, Dr. Tolian Soran.

She recognized the patterns of two of the medical readings because of a chart she once saw in Jayme’s medical tapes. Her remarkable memory was the only reason she knew, moments before the word came in from the away team, that they had found two dead Romulans.

Nev Reoh worked late in the geophysics lab on the unusual readings, helping pinpoint what the Romulans were after. It was trilithium, an archaic substance used as an explosive. Trilithium resin was made by exposing dilithium to matter/antimatter reactions, but it was highly unstable and therefore difficult to identify. But the geophysics lab did identify it, and after Lieutenant B’ll ran their analysis up to command, the entire lab decided to go to Ten‑Forward to celebrate their intensive, successful effort.

They had just entered the lounge when someone nearby whispered, “There’s Captain Picard.”

Reoh strained to see the captain among the room full of off‑duty personnel. Then he caught sight of the dignified figure in red having an oddly tense exchange with a white‑haired man. Someone else identified him as the sole surviving scientist from the observatory. After a few seconds, Captain Picard left as quickly as he had come. Soon after, the scientist left in the other direction.

Nev Reoh rarely entered Ten‑Forward. A couple of times he had met Moll Enor here, but the Trill didn’t seem comfortable in the crowded, merry atmosphere. Reoh didn’t know many other people, so he usually ventured out to the crew lounges near his quarters–to the ones on the interior of the ship.

The main reason he avoided Ten‑Forward was the enormous window. It currently offered a panoramic view of the observatory and the Amargosa sun, which was bigger than the size of his hand held out at arm’s length. Reoh put his back to the sight and concentrated on enjoying himself with his friends.

Reoh had been on board about six months, but he still felt like it was a mistake, his being here. He wasn’t exactly comfortable knowing he was always on a ship, flying through space. It seemed very dangerous to him, and he had finally given in to his feelings and requested interior quarters without windows. It wasn’t an uncommon experience, Counselor Troi had assured him, for people to take a while to get their space legs. Reoh hadn’t mentioned it to anyone for months, but he still felt very uneasy.

It was all right for the first two rounds, then more people joined them and he had to shift chairs. Suddenly he was facing the window, practically right next to it. He could hardly pay attention to the conversation anymore, keeping a wary eye on space.

It didn’t really bother him when he was on a journey, getting from one point to another. But why would anyone choose to live on a ship? Even in Starfleet, while most people equated duty with living on board a starship, he had come to associate it with the Academy and starbase duty. Even a space station didn’t seem as riskyto him as space travel.

Nev Reoh had a ringside seat when a spark left the solar observatory and flew directly toward the sun. He rubbed his eyes, thinking he was seeing things. But the sun flared dark orange as a rippling, burning pattern coursed over the surface.

Suddenly a blue white, blinding burst of light emanated from the star. Even as it receded, Reoh saw spots in front of his eyes from the quantum implosion.

Officers immediately began pushing their way out of Ten‑Forward as red alert sounded. Nev Reoh couldn’t have moved if he’d wanted to. But the duty of a geophysicist during alert situations was to remain in a secured area until notified that he was needed for an emergency team.

“What’s happening?” someone nearby asked with a nervous edge to his voice.

“B’ll, the senior geophysicist, answered, “It looks like all nuclear fusion is breaking down. The star will collapse within a few minutes.”

“Look, a shock wave,” someone called, pointing to the elliptical halo of light that was ripping through subspace, creating a visible distortion.

“It’s coming right at us,” Reoh said, pushing back as far as he could from the window until the table blocked him from going further. It had to be at least a level‑ten shock front.

“We’ve got a few minutes until it reaches us,” the senior geophysicist muttered.

“Why isn’t the ship moving? It should . . .” Reoh began to gasp.

An inarticulate exclamation from a Gagarin IV scientist cut him off.

“Ah . . . ah . . .” Reoh choked, also pointing back at the window.

A Klingon bird‑of‑prey fully materialized from its cloak off the port bow of the Enterprise, positioned right next to the Amargosa solar observatory. It glimmered a sickening green, like nothing else Reoh had seen on their travels.

Voices rose from those closest to the window, and for a few moments, Reoh felt as if he was trapped in a bad holonovel. Surely this many things couldn’t go wrong at once–

He lurched as the warp engines engaged, overriding inertial dampers for a millisecond. Reoh hung on, helplessly watching through the window as the Enterpriseswung around to run from the shock wave while the Klingon ship took off at a different angle.

As the ship reached warp speed and the stars began to turn into light streaks, the subspace distortion hit the Amargosa solar observatory. The impact blew it apart, sending electric discharge in every direction. Nev Reoh could hardly breathe as the Enterprisebanked and raced away just on the edge of the shock wave.

Titus’s duty roster the next day said the Enterprisehad re‑entered what was left of the Amargosa system, and that he was to continue his normal duties. The official explanation was that Tolian Soran, a Federation scientist, had blown up the Amargosa star.

Titus rummaged around and gathered some ship’s gossip: that Soran had been on the El‑Aurian ship, the Lakul, that had been destroyed by an energy ribbon in 2293. Soran–along with forty‑seven other El‑Aurians, including Guinan–had been saved by the Enterprise‑B. That was the mission that had killed James T. Kirk.

Titus would have given a lot to have duty on the bridge, like Moll Enor. Instead, he was crawling through umbilical resupply connect ports, performing a routine check of the joint leakage of the cryogenic oxygen lines in the gaseous atmospheric support systems.

When he had a second, he called Enor from a wall unit. But she was in the guidance and navigation center today, compiling telemetry reports on how the implosion of the Amargosa sun had affected the area.

“Even if I was on the bridge, I wouldn’t be able to tell you anything,” Enor insisted.

“I want to know why some mad scientist would destroy a star?” Titus insisted. “Why did those Klingons show up and beam him away? What have they got to gain from all this? And why did Romulansattack the observation station looking for trilithium? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“It’s not supposed to make sense to us,” Enor patiently reminded him. “We’re supposed to do our jobs and provide the data for the senior officers to answer those questions.”

“But nobody’s asking the big questions. They just want to know how much stress was put on this joint or how much leakage is coming from that conduit. It’s useless!”

“You leave the big questions to the captain,” Enor told him.

Titus grudgingly signed off, still convinced that there were things Enor, a full‑blown ensign, could find out that a cadet on field assignment wouldn’t be told. But some progress must have been made, because a ship‑wide announcement came across the comm that they were departing the disaster area and were en route to the Veridian system.

Titus crawled up another long conduit, figuring that by the end of the day he would be back in the saucer section again, having worked his way up the entire stem of the engineering section. He took another break and accessed routine information on the Veridian system. Veridian IV had a preindustrial humanoid society, population about 230 million. Veridian III was also a class‑M planet, but it was uninhabited. Titus couldn’t see a thing that would prompt Captain Picard to decide to go there.

He could tell by the heightened activity exactly when they entered the Veridian system. He took another break, and this time he was caught leaning over the wall comm, watching as they went into orbit around Veridian III. Ensign Karol made it clear that Titus had better finish checking the conduit before the end of his shift or there would be questions asked. Titus had been considering sneaking off to Ten‑Forward to watch the action–it was one of his favorite places on the ship. Or to the observation ports, if the lounge was too full.

But Titus was glad he heeded Ensign Karol’s advice and finished the conduit. In the docking latch, he could tell from the way the conduits passed through that the huge latch wasn’t properly seated. It was known to happen if the grab plates failed to seat within the passive aperture of the saucer section.

He checked and found the latching system had a failure rate of 1.5 latch pairs per ten separations. The other half of the pair was fine, so the situation did not warrant an emergency alert to the bridge. Titus was almost disappointed.

It was the most exciting thing he had done in four weeks. He carefully checked the quick‑disconnect umbilicals through the docking latch to make sure there was an unbroken flow of gases, liquids, wave‑guide energy, and data channels. Everything was well within normal parameters, so he simply logged the aberration and crossed his fingers that he would be allowed to join the crew tomorrow to help reseat the latch.

He was down on his knees, trying to peer under the edge of the trapizoidal latch to see if he could detect a physical problem. But it was nearly eight meters across, and the distortion from the structural integrity field interfered with his view.

The ship jolted to one side, throwing him headfirst into the side of the latch. He was rubbing his scalp and groaning when red alert sounded.

He was already on the ground, so he wasn’t badly hurt when the next shock ripped through the ship. It left him crumpled against the wall of the Jeffries tube this time. From the number of rapid concussions that followed, he concluded they were being attacked. Romulans or Klingons, he wasn’t sure which. He decided that Captain Picard did know what he was doing if he had managed to track down either one.

A heating conduit ruptured, sending a plume of steam shooting down the center of the Jeffries tube. Titus rode out the battle, hardly able to see his hand in front of his face. He decided it felt much worse than he had been led to believe from simulations. Or maybe the shields had failed, in which case they were in big trouble. From the concussions, it felt like the hull was caving in.

He gritted his teeth against the next impact, counting nine so far, when the tenth never came. When he finally untensed and began to unwrap himself from around the joint of the docking latch, the computer announced, “Warp‑core breach in progress. Evacuate the battle section. All personnel proceed to the saucer section.”

Ensign Karol came bounding up the Jeffries tube. “Stay here to help everyone through! I’ll get to the next access tube. We’ve got–”

“Warp‑core breach in four minutes thirty seconds,” the computer interrupted.

Titus helped funnel people through his tube, urging them to crawl as fast as they could past the blinding rupture in the atmospheric conduit. The computer relentlessly counted down every fifteen seconds.

“Warp‑core breach in two minutes.”

“Enor!” Titus called out as the Trill climbed through the hatch.

“We’re clearing the last ones through,” she told him.

“Why aren’t they using the corridors?” he asked, pulling back to let the other officers go by, protecting their eyes against the steam. “This isn’t safe.”

“We’re leaving the easier routes to the children and civilians–”

The computer interrupted, “Warp‑core breach in one minute thirty seconds.”

“That’s it,” said a lieutenant, the last officer to pass through the hatch.

Titus lingered, knowing that the hatch would self‑seal when the docking latch retracted. But he couldn’t understand why the magnetic interlock hadn’t been activated. He wondered if it had been ruptured in the battle, along with the coolant leak. Or it could be pinched open by the jammed latch.

“Why won’t the magnetic interlock switch on?” he asked, frantic.

The lieutenant glanced back before disappearing down the Jeffries tube. “There’s no systems alert. It will activate.”

He was gone before Titus could report that the docking latch wasn’t properly seated.

“Usually there’s a crew member on the other side to manually assist!” Titus insisted to Enor, the only one left behind with him.

“It’ll open,” Enor told him, but she was frowning as she looked at the lock.

“No, it’s stuck.” Titus jumped through the hatch, grabbing up the gravlock unit on his way in.

*   *   *

Moll Enor tried to stop Titus, but she didn’t move fast enough. Who would have thought he would go back?

A blue forcefield burst across the hatch. Moll leaped after Titus, running into the field, smashing her fingers against her body. The enormous latch lifted with a bone‑chilling grating. An inch of separation turned into two. Then her eyes met Titus’s, on the other side of the forcefield.

She tried to shove her hand through the field, wanting to somehow physically pull Titus through the widening gap between them. He stood up straighter, still holding his hands out to her as the saucer section pulled away.

Moll Enor hung in space, frantically tapping her comm badge and crying, “Go back, go back! He’s still on the battle bridge. Go back–”

At first it was only a body length of separation, then a room away, then so far she could no longer see him.

The saucer section was still comparatively close when the Battle bridge exploded in the distinctive pattern of a warp‑core breach. The saucer seemed to move too slowly, turning slightly, when the burst of sparks and the blue white shock wave hit them. Moll was flung against the ceiling of the Jeffries tube. She couldn’t see for her tears, dazed by the impact and the last sight of Titus, with the knowledge in his eyes that he was dead.

Moll Enor couldn’t remember how she got back to her quarters, past the crewmembers braced in the corridors. Her door was only around the corner, but an eternity away. The ship was shaking strangely, a deep rumbling through the hull, like it was running over rocks.