Star Trek: The Next Generation - 119 - Armageddon's Arrow (18 page)

“
Shuttlecraft
Siouxsie
to
Enterprise
.
”

Looking up from the padd resting in his lap as he sat in his command chair, Picard frowned not only at the note of concern in Commander Worf’s voice as his hail was piped through the bridge’s intercom system, but also the poor quality of the audio transmission. “
Enterprise
here. What’s your status, Number One? Have you found the
Arrow
?”

“Negative, sir
,
”
replied his first officer, his words laced with static,
“but, we have found what we think was the Raqilan’s template for building it
.
”

“What’s causing that interference?” Picard asked. “The asteroid field?”

Behind him, Lieutenant Šmrhová said, “Affirmative, sir. The debris contains a variety of mineral ores that are disrupting communications and sensors.” After a moment, she added, “Captain, they’re sending us a visual feed.”

“Patch it through,” ordered Picard, setting aside the padd and its engineering status report as he rose from his seat. On the bridge’s main viewscreen, the drifting
Arrow
derelict was replaced by images being sent in real time from the shuttlecraft’s sensors, depicting the dull gray surface of the moon Worf and Elfiki had been sent to investigate. As with the audio channel, the picture quality of the transmission also was being affected by the asteroid field’s disruptive properties. Static and other signs of signal degradation were evident, slicing across the image and causing audible pops and other sound distortion.

“What in the world . . . ?” The rest of Picard’s question faded on his lips as he studied the viewscreen. He had expected to see the
Arrow
itself, perhaps in some early stage of construction such as a bare or largely unadorned space frame. He was unprepared for the behemoth now displayed before him. There was no mistaking the monstrosity’s silhouette, even as it lay half-buried and wrecked, partially obscured by the rolling hills of displaced lunar soil and stone as it rested within a vast canyon of its own making.

“
Zkurvysyn
,” said Šmrhová from behind him. “That’s unreal.”

Reining in his own shock at the unlikely image on the viewscreen, Picard replied, “I’m afraid it’s all too real, Lieutenant.”

Planet killer
.

Doomsday machine
.

Picard was willing to wager that there was not a single cadet at Starfleet Academy who had not read the historical accounts of the first known encounter with such a vessel. Picard himself had presented to his class an oral report on the incident, in which Captain James Kirk and his
Enterprise
had come to the aid of another
Constitution
-class vessel, the
Constellation
, under the command of Commodore Matthew Decker. The
Constellation
had been wrecked by what Kirk’s science officer, Commander Spock, had described in his official report as “an automated weapon of immense size and power.” Based on observations of the robotic vessel’s actions, Spock had determined that its sole purpose was to destroy planets using a fearsome antiproton weapon and then consume the resulting debris as a fuel source. This rendered the machine autonomous, at least in this regard, so long as it could find planets and other useful spatial bodies to pummel and devour.

“Incredible.” The word was almost a whisper. Studying the crashed machine, Picard now saw the ghostly echo of its silhouette in what would become the
Arrow
. The resemblance was subtle, of course, with the Raqilan weapon ship’s heritage disguised in its far more angular design, to say nothing of its general form being inverted from that of this wreck which had clearly inspired it. To this point, the
Arrow
had seemed to carry its moniker in reference to its obvious shape.

“
The thing’s neutronium hull is blocking our sensors,”
said Lieutenant Elfiki over the open, yet still compromised, communications link,
“but scans of the crash site itself indicate it’s been here over one hundred thousand years. It’s also a lot smaller than . . . the other one
.
”

“Of all the things I thought they’d find,” Šmrhová said, “this didn’t even make the list.”

Picard nodded in agreement. “I know I certainly didn’t expect to see another one in my lifetime.”

After Captain Kirk’s defeat of the original machine, a small fleet of ships from Starfleet’s Corps of Engineers was required to tow it to a top-secret facility devoted to the storage and study of recovered alien technology. Once consigned to “The Yard,” as the research station was commonly known, the machine was studied for a time by a group of Starfleet and Federation civilian scientists, before finally being relocated to what was intended to be its permanent home at a special annex of the Starfleet Museum. That was where the mammoth automaton remained for more than a century, until the Borg had attacked Federation space—a prelude to their all-out and ultimately final invasion—and Picard himself had come up with the odd idea of using it as a possible weapon against the malevolent cybernetic race.

“There’s something else, Captain,”
Elfiki continued as the viewscreen depicted the opaque, cavernous opening that was the mammoth vessel’s bow.
“I’m detecting defects in the outer hull, and when I compare my sensor readings to the specs on the original machine recorded during its time at The Yard, I see that the power plant is much smaller and not as powerful.”
There was a pause before she added,
“
I didn’t know they made these things in different sizes
.
”

“We were under the impression that the original machine was a prototype,” Picard replied. “I suppose it’s possible that this is an even earlier version of what its builders eventually constructed.” The prevailing theory was that the ancient, mysterious, and all but unknown race known only as “the Preservers” had been responsible for creating these drone-like contrivances. The machine defeated by Captain Kirk more than a century earlier and eventually used to thwart the Borg’s pre-invasion assault on Federation targets was actually the second such vessel with which Picard and his crew had dealt.

“The machine commanded by Delcara
,
”
Worf said over the link.
“It was much larger and more powerful than this one or the vessel we used against the Borg.”

Picard nodded. “Exactly, Number One.” It had been nearly twenty years since their encounter with Delcara, the mysterious representative of the Shgin, a race devastated by the Borg hundreds of years before. Consumed by a need to exact vengeance against the Borg for annihilating her people, Delcara spent years attempting to locate a planet killer after learning of their existence from—of all people—Cadet Jean-Luc Picard and his class dissertation on the machine Kirk had fought. Upon finding one of the ancient weapons and learning how to control it, Delcara had unleashed its fury upon the Borg during several successful attacks. Her ultimate plan was to utilize the machine to travel to their homeworld in a bid to destroy the cybernetic race once and for all.

That scheme failed when she attempted to accelerate the machine beyond the maximum threshold for warp speed, and both the planet killer and Delcara vanished, never to be heard from again. According to the prevailing theories with respect to travel at such velocities, it was believed that she and the machine were trapped within some form of infinite loop, occupying all points in the universe at once. What might be the current state of the Federation and its allies—to say nothing of the other races and planets that had suffered at the hands of the Borg in the two decades since Delcara’s disappearance—if she had succeeded? Thinking of the numerous worlds and uncounted lives that might have been saved had she not been so blinded by her unquenchable thirst for revenge made Picard shake his head in sadness.

“What else can you tell us about this machine, Lieutenant?”

Elfiki replied,
“Based on our sensor readings, it looks as though its central power plant may have overloaded. I’m picking up signs of damage that aren’t consistent with the physical stresses of a simple crash. What’s left doesn’t look to be much more than a mountain of scrap, sir. If I had to guess, I’d say that the thing suffered some kind of catastrophic systems failure that rendered it incapable of avoiding a crash
.
”

“It’s still pretty impressive,” said Šmrhová. Picard turned to her as the security chief gestured toward the screen. “And it’s obvious somebody else thought so, too. You have to figure they’ve been attempting to plunder the wreck for anything useful since they found it.”

“We are detecting Raqilan life signs within the structures around the vessel,”
Worf said,
“though the concentration of neutronium from its hull is obscuring some of our scans.”

Picard crossed his arms. “Have you found any sign of the
Arrow
itself?”

“Not yet, sir,”
Worf said.
“However, our scans have picked up another concentration of artificial materials on the moon’s far side. We were preparing to investigate
.
”
His statement was punctuated by a sharp burst of static that also seemed to affect the visual transmission, which wavered for a moment before returning to its already low-quality state

“It’s a given that the Raqilan know you’re there, Commander. Make your survey brief, and return to the ship as quickly as possible.”

“
Acknowledged,”
replied the Klingon.
“Captain, do you plan to tell Fleet Legate Mynlara about what we’ve found?”

“I honestly don’t know yet, Number One.” His first officer had raised a valid question, and Picard had sensed his unspoken addendum. Would alerting the Golvonek to the
Arrow
in its present state, decades before it would be completed and launched on its mission, constitute a violation of the Prime Directive? Though there were no specific clauses in the regulation for this particular scenario, the decree was broad enough that he could interpret it as he felt appropriate and necessary. In Picard’s mind, the current circumstances offered the very definition of “uncharted territory.”

Well
, Picard reminded himself,
it’s the job you wanted
.

18

“Commander, there it is!”

No sooner had the words left Lieutenant Elfiki’s mouth and she was pointing through the
Siouxsie
’s viewing port than Worf saw it. The construction facility was cloaked in near total darkness on the moon’s far side, away from the Canborek sun and facing into the void of space, but illuminated from within by obvious artificial sources. Its forward section, an elaborate grid of metal beams and other support structures, rested on the moon’s surface, extending outward from the depths of a vast cave at the base of an immense mountain. Worf guided the shuttlecraft into hover, holding the shuttlecraft’s position so that it remained partially concealed behind the mountain range separating them from their target. Angling the craft so that the viewing port faced the cave entrance, he now saw that cocooned within the convoluted scaffolding was an elongated, tapered skeletal framework. Even though it was decades from completion, the lines of what would become the
Arrow
were evident.

“That tunnel extends several dozen kilometers into the mountainside,” Elfiki said. “It’s too straight and consistent in its measurements to be a natural formation, and I’m reading other tunnels and chambers extending even farther underground. The Raqilan must’ve carved it out themselves. The mineral composition of the mountain and surrounding soil shares many characteristics with what we found in the completed
Arrow
, so it’s likely the Raqilan processed the raw mineral ore from the tunnels to use in the ship’s construction.” She blew out her breath. “I’ll be damned.” Then, as if realizing she had spoken aloud, she added, “I’m sorry, sir. I shouldn’t be surprised—or excited—to see this, but it’s pretty amazing, and a little bizarre.”

Worf shook his head. “Your reaction is understandable, Lieutenant.” Seeing the budding spacecraft nestled within the cradle that would nurture it for years to come, he could not help but consider yet again the tangled knots of perception, reality, logic, reason, confusion, and even fantasy, all of which seemed to wrap in and around themselves and one another whenever the topic of time travel was broached. Despite whatever snide comments he might offer on the matter during casual conversation, Worf had always been fascinated with the concept of traveling through time. His later experiences with various aspects of the concept had served to fuel both his interest and his irritation at the incalculable number of variables that always came into play whenever someone or something traveled to a point in the past in a bid to influence future events. Upon learning that the
Arrow
was a device intended for such a purpose, and with the enormity of the mission it had been sent to complete, Worf had spent a great deal of time considering the multitudes of ways Jodis and his crew might affect the time stream. Had the Raqilan given sufficient thought to the myriad ramifications that might ensue as a consequence of the
Arrow
carrying out its assigned task? Even if the weapon ship failed in its mission, its crew still carried with them the ability to affect future history, with no way to foresee the impacts possible as a result of their very presence, let alone any subtle or overt actions they might undertake.

“There’s something interfering with our scans,” Elfiki reported. “Almost like a scattering field. It’s concentrated around the construction site, but I think I can compensate for it.” Tapping several controls on her console, she added, “I can filter some of it, sir. Enough to get a decent look.”

His attention divided between his controls and the sight beyond the viewing port as he held the
Siouxsie
hovering at a point just above the mountain ridge that acted as a protective barrier for the construction site, Worf eyed the chronometer on his console. They had been here long enough that, despite his precautions, someone should have noticed. “Are you detecting life signs?”

The science officer nodded. “Affirmative, sir. I’m picking up hundreds of Raqilan biosigns in and around the scaffolding and the ship itself. They’ve got sensors, too, and they know we’re here. I just registered their scans.” Now aware that time was a factor, Elfiki hunched over her console, and her fingers moved even faster across the controls. After several moments spent studying her sensor data, she gestured toward the viewing port. “It’s just the frame, and not even all of that. The tail section looks to be incomplete. However, I’m also getting readings consistent with some of the materials and components from the planet killer.”

Worf replied, “They would obviously attempt to reverse engineer some of the components and mechanisms they found inside the machine.”

“Right,” said Elfiki, “but our scans of the completed
Arrow
showed no such similarities. At least, nothing we were able to recognize. From everything we’ve seen and when you compare it to what we know about the planet killers, the
Arrow
’s not just a copy. It’s a unique craft, engineered from the ground up using the machine more as a guide.”

She was right, Worf knew. Their on-site inspection of the
Arrow
’s interior had been enough to demonstrate what the Raqilan had been able to accomplish even with using the wrecked planet killer as a starting reference.

“Perhaps their initial attempts failed, but their study of the machine still was sufficient to drive their own research and development efforts,” he said. Unlike the machine, the
Arrow
’s internal systems had been designed and constructed for the benefit of the crew tasked with operating it. While Raqilan scientists and engineers were successful in re-creating some of the machine’s propulsion and weapons systems, they had done so in comparably crude form, using materials available to them and operating within the limits of their technology. “Their inability to repair or reproduce the machine’s internal mechanisms might explain the major differences in the
Arrow
’s final design.”

Elfiki shrugged. “However they did it, there’s no arguing that it’s still pretty damned impressive.” Once more, she pointed toward the viewing port. “Wouldn’t it be something to watch them build this thing, knowing how long it’ll take and what it will end up being once it’s completed? Seeing them work through the technical obstacles and testing their designs?”

“I imagine our entire engineering staff would want to do that,” Worf countered.

“Not just the engineers.” Elfiki smiled. “I wonder if the need for total secrecy is the major reason the construction will take so long to complete. Ferrying the necessary materials to this location, or mining the raw ores from the moon itself, might attract undue attention from Golvonek patrol vessels, if indeed there are such things.”

The inkling of something that had bothered him since first hearing about the
Arrow
and its mission started to coalesce in Worf’s mind, and he realized what component of the present circumstances seemed not to fit with everything else.

“At this point in the conflict,” he said, “both the Raqilan and Golvonek homeworlds, though affected by orbital bombardments and other attacks, have not deteriorated to the point that it makes sense for Raqilan leaders to devise such an outlandish plan to retroactively prevent the war.”

Elfiki nodded. “I was thinking about that, too, sir. Maybe at this point, it’s just supposed to be a massive weapon, the biggest bat they can come up with for fighting back. Just one ship like this, with a weapon powerful enough to destroy an entire planet, would be more than enough to all but guarantee a victory over the Golvonek.”

She was interrupted by an alert tone from her console, and she grimaced as she checked the readings. “Sensors are picking up energy signatures coming from points scattered around the construction site.” Pausing to further study the scan data, the lieutenant added, “They look to be weapons emplacements, sir. Eight of them, and they’re all coming online.”

Worf said, “Then it is time to leave.” Tapping controls to guide the
Siouxsie
into a bank away from the mountain, the Klingon felt the shuttlecraft responding to his commands as it angled up and away from the moon’s surface and back toward space. “Can you ascertain the range of their weapons?”

“Once we leave orbit, we should be fine, sir.”

Using the mountain range surrounding the construction site as natural cover, Worf maneuvered the shuttle to block any of the weapons stations from being able to acquire the craft as a target. Once he was satisfied, he increased the
Siouxsie
’s velocity as it arced away from the moon, but the feeling lasted only until another alert tone sounded in the shuttlecraft’s cabin.

“Incoming ships,” Elfiki said. “Six of them. They look to be Raqilan in design.” Her brow furrowed as she studied the sensors readings. “They’re small and fast. If I had to guess, sir, I’d say they were some kind of fighter craft, and they look to be loaded for bear. Each ship has six particle cannons. They’ve got shields, but ours are better.”

“Increasing speed,” Worf said, his hands already moving to input the necessary commands. He glanced at the small tactical scanner set into the console and noted the
Siouxsie
’s position relative to the moon as well as the six ships. “Activate deflector shields.”

“Can’t we outrun them?” Elfiki asked.

Worf shook his head. “We can beat them to the asteroid field, but their ships are smaller and more maneuverable than ours.” The debris encircling the moon and the planet Landorem offered no clear avenues of escape, so any course back to the
Enterprise
would require him to navigate the shuttlecraft through the debris. Even though the field was not so dense as to pose significant hazards to navigation, the fighters—and their pilots, who presumably had greater experience maneuvering through this area—would have the advantage. “Contact the
Enterprise
. Alert them that we may need assistance.”

Elfiki had time only to reach for the communications controls before something slammed into the
Siouxsie
. The entire shuttlecraft seemed to lurch under him, and Worf gripped the console to keep from being thrown from his seat. Even with the shields to absorb the brunt of the attack, the force of the strike was still enough to stress the artificial gravity and inertial damping systems almost to their limit. He lunged for the control that triggered the emergency restraint systems for both his and Elfiki’s seats, and Worf felt the harness push out from the recessed compartments in the chair’s frame and close around his arms, thighs, and torso.

“They’re trying to surround us, sir!” Elfiki snapped as her own harness slipped into place. “If they all gang up on us with the weapons they’re carrying, our shields won’t hold.”

Worf, once again thankful that he had chosen the
McCall
-class shuttle to conduct their investigation, pushed the
Siouxsie
to the top end of its sublight velocity. At the same time, he checked the status of the craft’s weapons and saw that its phaser arrays were online, and he instructed the computer to begin scanning for targets.

“We will be in the asteroid field in twenty seconds,” he reported, glancing back and forth between his controls and the viewing port. To his right, he caught a glimpse of a fleeting, dull-silver shape disappearing from view as he yet again adjusted the shuttlecraft’s course. Elfiki was right. The Raqilan fighters were fast. Perhaps too fast. His fears were strengthened as the
Siouxsie
’s shields were slammed by two quick strikes, the impacts carrying enough power to trigger multiple alarms within the shuttle’s cramped cockpit. Only his harness kept Worf from being ejected from his seat, but he ignored the craft’s bucking and pitching, noting instead the series of crimson alert indicators beginning to flash on his console.

“Communications are out,” Elfiki reported. “We can receive, but I can’t open a channel to broadcast. Aft shields are down to forty-six percent. Port impulse engine also has some damage, but is still functional.”

Worf ordered, “Route power from nonessential systems to the shields. Can you restore communications?” Glancing ahead through the viewing port, he saw that a handful of asteroids marked the edge of the debris field.

“It looks like an overload, sir,” replied the science officer. “I may be able to reroute.”

When another salvo rocked the shuttle, Worf decided that was enough. “Stand by,” he said, banking the
Siou
xsie
to port and away from the oncoming asteroids. The targeting scanner beeped as one of the Raqilan fighters finally fell within its sights, and Worf wasted no time stabbing at the phaser firing control. Twin orange-white streaks spat forth from the shuttlecraft, piercing the void separating it from the smaller fighter. There was no flare of energy, but instead impact blooms as the phasers struck the nimble craft’s armored hull before the fighter disappeared out of sight.

“Direct hit, sir,” Elfiki said. “I’m picking up damage to its hull and . . . I think . . . its propulsion system.” A moment later, she nodded. “Yes, it’s definitely dropping back. The other five are still on us, though.”