Chapter Text
The tinny sound of clipped voices issuing orders over combadges mingled with the clomp of boots on the metallic floor grating in the next hall.
Applewood gestured to a locked door the same color and texture as the bulkhead, and Doc Nathan swiftly tapped in his access code. The door slid open onto pitch darkness. Ishta and Kay tensed but, at Data's small nod, they followed Applewood and the doctor inside, the door sliding shut just in time to shield them while the boots and voices passed by.
"This is intolerable," Doc Nathan muttered and Data agreed, a deep, familiar anger swelling inside him as he securely supported the injured captain. The unconscious Andorian moaned and moved against his chest. "Armed personnel marching through the corridors, barging into offices, private quarters—!"
"It's not just here, Doc. They're doing this all over the ship." Applewood spoke softly, tracking the security teams' locations on his tricorder's glowing display window. Their numbers were growing with distressing rapidity as they spread systematically through the decks and corridors, recruiting some while putting others under guard. "Looks like Gibson set the whole thing on autopilot. Cutting off all but security-related communications, sending her loyalists to isolate anyone who might protest what they're doing…"
"So, why don't people stand up to them?" Kahlestra demanded, clenching her scarred fist. "Stun the creeps, the way Data stunned the mutineers who tried to kill the captain?"
"And us." Ishta snarled. "That Gibson woman didn't miss her mark. She wanted the captain to watch her shoot us all."
Applewood grimaced, grimly suspecting Ishta was right. Still… "It's not that simple," he said. "These officers… They're our colleagues. A takeover this thorough, with no warning… Even I didn't expect—"
Data believed he could understand Applewood's feelings on an intellectual level, but inside he felt very different. Recalling that moment in the captain's briefing room – the tingle he'd felt as Gibson's phaser beam passed his ear…his horror when he realized the threat she and Hugo posed to the captain and Mikey, to Ishta and Kay…!
His fists clenched against the captain's back, but he didn't argue the point. This wasn't the time or place. Even so, his voice seemed unusually cold as he cut in to remind them: "We have approximately seven minutes to reach the transporter room before Hugo, Gibson, and the personnel on the bridge regain consciousness."
Applewood scrubbed his fingers through his hair. "I know, I know! But with all this security everywhere…" He looked up, his dark eyes highlighted by the tricorder's screen. "Wait – Doc! Where are the lights in this closet?"
Doc Nathan pressed his palm to a smooth wall panel, and a dim orange light revealed they were standing inside a very narrow storage room. Emergency medical supplies and ration crates neatly filled the floor-to-ceiling shelves, prevented from shifting or falling by the faint glimmer of a forcefield.
"What are you looking for?" Doc Nathan asked.
"EPCs. Isolation suits," Applewood told him.
Data's eyebrows lifted in understanding. "Ah! But, do not such suits require an external holographic link-up to achieve their invisibility function—"
"Maybe back in your day," Applewood said with a teasing smile. "Now, the tech's self-contained. Each suit can keep the wearer functionally invisible and inaudible to observers. Even most sensors…at least, for as long as the power packs last."
"Wait…" Kahlestra blinked, a small smile tweaking her lips. "So, we're going to be invisible? Like, seriously?"
"Indeed, Kay," Data said, and Kahlestra clapped her hands together.
"Ha!"
"Got 'em," Doc Nathan announced, digging deep into a large cooler-looking container in the back corner. Labeled Emergency Protective Clothing (EPC), the container listed radiation, extreme temperature, toxic gasses, zero gravity, deep space, underwater, and isolation among the suits' emergency protective capabilities.
He handed a flat compressed packet to each of them. Tearing the silvery packets open revealed reddish-orange jumpsuits that seemed to grow and expand as they shook them out. They quickly pulled them on over their clothes and shoes. Kay helped Data dress the captain, then Mikey showed them how to activate the suits' internal comm systems and holographic light refractors.
"I don't like this," Ishta said, holding onto Data's arm as the invisible group crept back into the corridor. "I don't like not being able to see you!"
"It's all right, Ishta," Data assured her. "I will not allow us to become separated."
"Hmm," Ishta grunted, and gripped his sleeve even tighter.
It seemed officers and enlisted personnel from different departments had joined in the security sweeps, methodically striding up and down corridors, bursting through doors into busy labs and offices with phaser rifles raised.
Doc Nathan growled and muttered as they passed by each nightmarish sight, the invisible group keeping close to the bulkhead as they made their way to the turbolift at the end of the next corridor. The isolation suits helped to muffle their footsteps against the metal grating, but a few non-human officers pricked their ears or sniffed suspiciously before continuing on their way.
"Oh, my heart," Doc Nathan moaned.
"We should stun them all," Kahlestra muttered. "Every maghwl' in every corridor. Then transport these disloyal traitors to the brig."
"Not a bad idea," Applewood said dryly. "Except our brig doesn't have nearly the capacity we'd need to contain them all. Right now, I need you to keep close— Wait, hold still!"
A fresh group of armed, grim-faced mutineers marched out of the turbolift and turned a corner. Doc Nathan moaned again, but Applewood whispered, "OK – let's go!"
The little group dashed inside, and Data had them all audibly confirm they'd made it in before stepping forward and allowing the doors to close. Lifting his suit's headpiece just enough to be heard by the computer, Mikey said "Deck Seventeen," and the turbolift began to move.
"Mikey," Kahlestra asked. "What if more of those matlhHa' 'urwI' cowards are in the transporter room when we get there? Will you and Data stun them?"
Applewood sighed. "That's what our phasers are for."
The 'lift slowed to a stop and the doors slid open. They saw a group of security personnel marching in the distance, but the corridor just ahead was clear.
"Get ready," Mikey whispered. "It's the third door on the left."
Mikey and Data invisibly raised their phasers, chorusing "Now!" as the doors slid open.
The room beyond was dark and deserted. Mikey checked his tricorder just in case, then pulled his suit's headpiece all the way back like a hood – looking like a floating head as he smiled.
"It's OK. There's no one here," he said, and the rest of the group followed his lead: five disembodied heads floating around the transporter room. Kay and Ishta giggled at the bizarre sight, but Data seemed gravely concerned. Deactivating the invisibility function on the captain's suit, and his own, he set her down on the transporter platform, then manually locked the doors and strode swiftly for the dimly glowing control panel. His head cocked slightly, and he frowned.
"As I suspected, power to this transporter has been cut," he reported, his gloved fingers flying over the controls. "The command came from Engineering. If we restore power, our activities here will be noticed, and our destination easily traced."
"Dammit, Valdez…" Applewood pressed a hand to his forehead and squeezed his dark hair.
Ishta looked from Mikey to Data. "So, what does this mean? Do we have to go back out there?"
"I'd rather not," Data said and lifted his gaze to Applewood. "Mikey, will you allow me to access your computer system?"
Applewood frowned. "What do you have in mind, Data?"
"We have less than two minutes before the bridge crew regain consciousness. But, if I could access your main computer, I could lock all bridge controls behind a unique complex encryption code." He fixed him with his amber stare. "Navigation, communications, sensors, shields, weapons, security, engineering – the mutineers would wake to find them all inaccessible."
Applewood rubbed his chin. "I see. I'm happy to give you my codes but, for full access, the captain would have to—"
"I just need an 'in,' as it were," Data told him, and stood back from the console. "If you would, please…?"
Applewood typed in his security clearance and password, confirmed with his voice print, then Data took over with swift, smooth focus, his eyebrow raising as he worked.
"I have locked out all bridge controls and transferred voice command to you, Commander." He glanced at Mikey, then furrowed his brow. "But there is something strange… A block I cannot bypass… It is as if there is a missing connection…"
"I think I see the problem." Mikey stood next to him, tapping at the console display. "You wouldn't know this. But this ship… Well, it's something of an amalgamation – pieces and parts…even whole sections of several ships that have been sort of cobbled together into one. Because of that, the computer's a little…compartmentalized. There is a central system, but the different sections don't always talk to each other without some prodding."
Data frowned. "That would explain why I could not use the bridge controls to access Engineering."
"Yep," Applewood admitted, still tapping at the console. "Plus, Valdez is a dick. He's always arguing Engineering should be more independent. The captain insists on everything being connected centrally, via the bridge, but I'm not surprised Valdez would want to lock Hugo out of— Wait – you said you gave me voice command?"
"As long as the captain remains indisposed, you command this ship," Data told him.
Applewood smiled a little. "Then, let me try something," he said and turned his eyes toward the ceiling. "Computer, recognize Applewood, Michael Sean. A35772."
"Recognized. Lt. Commander Micheal Sean Applewood. Currently in command of U.S.S.—"
"Yes, yes – Computer!" Applewood spoke urgently. "Emergency Code 5544: Hostile Takeover In Progress. Override all commands from Engineering and reroute central command control to the battle bridge. Lock under my passcode, voice command only. Enact and confirm."
"Control rerouted and locked," the computer confirmed.
"Great. Now, restore full power to Transporter Room Five."
The control panel and overhead lights brightened considerably, while the transporter pads lit up with an eager hum.
Kahlestra cheered, grinning broadly from where she'd been kneeling on the platform, helping Doc Nathan keep the captain stable.
"There," Applewood said. "Now Valdez can't trace us."
"I understand," Data said, "But given the compartmentalized nature of your ship's systems, in a situation like this, the battle bridge is not necessarily secure. If Hugo should—"
"Right, good point. As First Officer, he could use his own emergency powers to override mine." Applewood frowned thoughtfully, then brightened. "If he does try, though, the authority I've already established under Emergency Code 5544 should allow me to transfer remote command to the captain's yacht and maintain control from there. So…" He input the coordinates for the yacht's sickbay and smiled at his friend. "Ready to go?"
Data nodded and gave Mikey a proud clap on the shoulder. "After you, Commander."
Mikey's smile warmed, and he led the way to the transporter platform. Doc Nathan and Kahlestra gently arranged the captain on one of the pads, then took their own places. Data reached a hand out to Ishta, giving her fingers an encouraging squeeze as she climbed up to stand anxiously on the pad beside his.
"Energize," Applewood ordered, and the computer initiated the automated transport sequence he'd input. In less than two seconds, the small group had vanished in a glimmer of shimmering lights.
*******
The post-stun headache was like a pickaxe clanging against his eye socket. Swallowing back a surge of nausea, Commander Hugo lurched to his feet and staggered to the briefing room's replicator for fast-acting painkillers and a tall glass of water.
"Damn that 'droid," Gibson groaned, her blue eyes struggling to focus through the pain of her own headache. "What the hell happened, Lennie?"
"They got away's what happened," he snarled, and downed the full glass of water. "With the captain. I gotta get to the bridge."
He strode for the sliding doors, only to stop just short of slamming his narrow nose into them.
"Locked," Gibson observed, sneering behind his back as she made her way to the replicator to order some painkillers of her own. "By the way, thanks for offering."
"Huh? I didn't offer you anything."
"Exactly my point…!" Gibson gestured broadly to the replicator as her painkillers appeared.
"Eh." Hugo brushed her complaint aside. A glance at the door panel showed it to be blankly inoperative, so he slammed his fists against the doors, again and again, trying to get attention from the bridge.
Gibson winced at the noise, rubbing a hand over her forehead as she slowly sipped her water.
"Hey!" Hugo shouted toward the crack where the two doors met. "Hey, out there! A little help, huh!"
It took a few minutes, but someone ultimately inserted a slender tool that gradually pried the doors wide enough for Hugo and Gibson to squeeze through.
"Report," the commander snapped the minute he'd made it to the bridge. Everywhere, security officers were groaning and struggling to climb to their feet, the regular bridge crew stretching aching muscles and blinking at blank or frozen screens. "Ensign, what's our status?"
"Nothing works, Commander," the young navigation officer reported. "The computer isn't responding to commands."
Hugo grumbled, slamming himself into the captain's chair and tapping at the control pad on its arm. "Locked out," he grunted. "Just like the damn door." Looking toward the ceiling, he snapped, "Computer! Unlock bridge command control. Authorization Hugo, J68893."
The computer made a bleeping sound. "Unable to comply. Authorization not recognized. Please input encryption code."
Hugo's bushy eyebrows raised. "Encryption—!"
"It's the android, sir," Gibson snarled from her tactical station, just behind him. "Has to be. Applewood's sharp, but this level of encryption coding takes a serious computer expert. I mean, look at this! These codes…they're like…like layers of netting, stacked in all different directions, one after another, folding over and around themselves to form this impenetrable wall. I don't think I can break it. Hell, I doubt even Valdez could—"
Hugo surged to his feet. "Hugo to Valdez! Valdez, respond!"
"Communications are locked, sir," the lieutenant at ops reported apologetically. "Just like navigation. No matter what I do, the computer keeps asking for that encryption code."
"Dammit," Hugo muttered, his deep-set eyes moving anxiously back and forth as he realized: "We're sitting ducks out here. Gibson – go to engineering. Find Valdez, get his take on the situation, and report back to me. And check in with your security forces. I want to know who's with us…and who's not."
"Aye sir," Gibson said, pausing just outside the turbolift. "And what of Applewood and his group, sir?"
"They took the captain, so check with sickbay," Hugo told her. "If they give you any trouble…"
He made a slitting gesture with his hand.
"Including the android?"
Hugo grunted an affirmative. "He's useless to us."
"But sir, the encryption codes—"
"In his time, Lt. Commander Data was captured by Romulans and tortured by the Borg," Hugo said. "I sincerely doubt anything we could do or threaten would make him give up those codes, and trying would only waste more time we don't have. Tell that to Valdez. Tell him if he can't break the android's code, he's to find some way to bypass it. Get him to put his top minds on getting me access to my bridge. Fast! Before we wind up an amusing practice target for the Romulans…"
Gibson nodded, and took a phaser rifle from a woozy security officer.
"Understood, sir. I'll be back as soon as I can."
"Meanwhile…" As the 'lift doors closed behind Gibson, Hugo stormed toward the half-open doors to the briefing room and picked up a phaser rifle of his own. "Someone scare up a tricorder! I want a full internal scan, starting with sickbay. We're looking for a group consisting of one android and four life forms – a human male and three females: a Klingon, an Orion, and an Andorian. Find them, and report back to me! I'll be in the briefing room should anything change."
*******
"Whoa…" Ishta turned a full circle, taking in the smooth lines and sleek contours of the bridge of the captain's yacht. "Nice! Now this is what I think when I think 'Federation Ship.'"
At Doc Nathan's insistence, the rest of the group left him in sickbay to continue his work on the captain's wound while they checked the dilithium chamber in engineering, then headed to the bridge. They knew Hugo, Gibson, and the rest of the crew they'd stunned were no doubt awake and aware by this time, but with Data's encryption codes in place they remained hopeful they could detach the yacht from the main ship without attracting notice. Or, at least, without incurring a firefight.
"What exactly is a captain's yacht?" Kahlestra asked, watching over Data's shoulder as he powered up the computer stations and began transferring command codes. "I mean, what's it for?"
"Its purpose is primarily diplomatic," Data told her, moving from station to station as he input encrypted passcodes and isolated all controls from external or remote interference. "Generally, for transporting dignitaries, or to allow the captain to travel on diplomatic missions where, for whatever reason, transporters cannot be used."
"So, that's why this place is so plush?" Ishta teased. "So the captain can impress diplomats here, instead of showing them her big crusty ship, with all its dim lights and see-through metal floors?"
Applewood shrugged, running through a ship wide diagnostic from the ops console at the front of the bridge. "Pretty much. Though, to be honest, the captain's yacht is almost never used."
Ishta opened her mouth in an incredulous scoff. "What a waste! Seriously, though, if she doesn't want it, I'll take it. I'm not even kidding. This ship is sleek!"
Applewood chuckled a little, and straightened. "Everything looks good, Data. The engines are primed, and the sickbay computer indicates the captain remains stable. We can begin undocking procedures whenever you're ready."
"Understood," he said. "I've done my best to ensure our activities will remain shielded. Let's begin."
Applewood sat at ops, leaving Data to take the captain's chair. Ishta sat next to him, in the first officer's seat, while Kahlestra dashed down from the upper bridge to slide into the navigation station.
"Don't worry, I won't touch the console," she promised. "I just want to see!"
Mikey cast an amused glance over his shoulder at Data, the two officers sharing a smile as the android raised a hand and pointed toward the star-filled viewscreen.
"Mr. Applewood," he said. "Take us out."
Applewood tapped at the console. The compact yacht gave a gentle shudder as it released from its magnetic moorings on the underside of the larger ship's saucer section and slowly began to move forward.
"We're underway, and should be passing through the ship's cloaking shields in a moment," Applewood reported.
Sure enough, a ripple of distorted light passed over the viewscreen, like a shimmering sea of rainbows. Kahlestra gasped and Ishta stared, her blue eyes wide.
"That's…beautiful…"
Data smiled, delighted to see the wonder brightening her expression. "It is indeed," he agreed. "Mr. Applewood, please engage our own cloak. Once there is enough distance between us and the ship, plot a course for Nineveh IV, and engage at Warp 16. I believe it would also be prudent to prepare a message for Starfleet Command, detailing the events necessitating our—"
The little yacht juddered and shook. Startled, Data's fingers flew over the computer console on the arm of the captain's chair.
"A tractor beam," he realized. "Mikey, report."
"It's Valdez, Data," Applewood said, tapping swiftly at his own console. "Your encryption codes are still intact, but he must have found a way to override my passcode for the battle bridge. Attempting to reroute… Transferring remote command to the yacht..."
The shuddering stopped, but before anyone could sigh in relief, the viewscreen shifted from the stars to a close-up of Lennie Hugo's furious face.
Applewood hit mute and turned to Data. "But… I thought communications were locked—"
"They are," Data confirmed, his eyes fixed on his arm-console. "According to these readings, we contacted them."
Kahlestra raised both arms. "It wasn't me! I swear by Kahless, I didn't touch anything!"
"Neither did I!" Ishta said.
"I know," Data assured them. "The signal appears to have originated from sickbay—"
"Quite right," Captain Zh'shrythaa spoke from behind them.
Data stood to face her, noting Doc Nathan emerging breathlessly from the turbolift.
"I tried to explain, Mr. Data," he said. "But the captain insisted—"
"Damn right, I did," Zh'shrythaa said, and strode to the center of the bridge. "Excuse me, Commander," she said as she passed Data, her angry gaze fixed on the viewscreen ahead. "But my exec and I need to exchange a few words. Mike, unmute that bloviating bastard."
"Yes, Captain," Applewood said, and Lennie's hoarse shouts filled the air.
"Stop whining, Lennie," Zh'shrythaa snapped, her sharp voice cutting right through his angry complaints and demands. "You're hardly the victim here, so shut your mouth and listen."
While Hugo sputtered, she turned to Data. "Commander, I presume you've set up a remote link to my ship. I want an open channel to all decks, all personnel."
Data swiftly headed for the tactical/communications station and danced his fingers over the controls. "Channel open, sir."
Looking straight at Hugo's face, she said: "Attention. This is Captain Jhilli Zh'shrythaa with a ship wide alert to any and all officers and personnel still loyal to Starfleet and the Federation's code of ethics. You have twelve minutes to evacuate and report to Admiral Shaeffer on Sol Base 2. Once again, you have less than twelve minutes to evacuate and report to Admiral Shaeffer on Sol Base 2. This is not a drill. It is a direct order from your captain, not to be obstructed or ignored. Please follow designated escape routes and procedures. Stay safe, be well, and thank you for your service. As for the rest of you—"
"The hell are you trying to do," Hugo demanded. "Start a panic on board this ship!"
"Tell your people they better let my people head to the shuttles and escape pods," Zh'shrythaa said coldly. "You have less than eleven minutes."
"Eleven minutes to what!" Hugo demanded. "The ship's controls are locked behind that android's damn encryption codes! Even if they weren't, you're officially 'incapacitated.' The computer responds to me now, so—"
"Ten minutes," Zh'shrythaa said. "And I don't give a frazzled frick, Lennie. I'm not about to let you and the rest of your cynical, mutinous quislings take our confidential files, data, and tech over to the damn Maquis, or the Cardassia-Bajor Alliance." She held up a hand to cut off his protests. "Don't even try to deny that's what you have in mind. I've seen it before, and you're just the kind of transactional coward to think you could squeeze some personal gain out of this…treason." She sighed through her nose, her antennae drooping against her feathery white hair. "Honestly, Len, I can't even say I'm disappointed. I'm just very, very tired."
Hugo's dark eyes blazed, his broad face stretching in a terrible scowl. "Gibson should have aimed for the heart when she shot you, you damned blue Exo-Bug!"
Zh'shrythaa's antennae twitched. "You're forgetting, Lennie. I was born on Earth. My family lived on Earth for eight generations. You're the Exo, Colony-Boy. You and your pal Valdez. So watch your damn mouth. Eight minutes to go."
"You're bluffing," Hugo shouted. "There's nothing you can do from that tiny yacht that—"
"Cut transmission," Zh'shrythaa said, and Data complied. The viewscreen flicked back to the starscape, and the captain took in a slow, deep breath.
"That was quick thinking," she told him. "Blocking Hugo and his cretins with that encryption code. I like it. But, as much as it would please me to leave them floating out here, it's too big a risk. Especially so close to Vulcan…or should I say Romulan space." She sighed again and shook her head. "Six and a half minutes. We should get moving."
Data frowned, his amber eyes growing sharply suspicious. "Captain? Where are we going?"
"Escape pod," she said, her deceptively calm voice limned with heavy sadness. "All of you, follow me. You'll understand in six minutes."
Data's suspicious frown deepened, but instead of calling her out or criticizing her plan, he gestured for Ishta and Kay to join him as they swiftly followed the captain, Applewood, and Doc Nathan into the turbolift, then down a short hall to the yacht's lone escape pod. It was small, about the size of a standard shuttlecraft, but as luxurious as the rest of the ship, with a full-sized dining/conference table, a sonic shower in the restroom, and privacy curtains for each bunk.
"Everybody in," Zh'shrythaa invited, ushering them up the ramp with a wave of her arm before heading past the long table to the tiny two-person cockpit. "Mr. Data, Mr. Applewood," she said. "If you would be so kind as to launch the pod? We have about two minutes, now."
While the two officers took their seats, Ishta wrinkled her nose at Kahlestra.
"What does she mean, two minutes?"
Kahlestra shook her head. "If she were Klingon, I'd guess we're evacuating because she plans to use the yacht as a weapon."
Ishta's eyes widened. "You mean… Against her own ship?"
"A ship full of mutineers," Kahlestra pointed out. "It is said traitors can be trusted to be loyal only to themselves. That is why they have no honor."
Zh'shrythaa snorted and gave a little nod. "There's a lot of wisdom in those Klingon proverbs," she said. "Mr. Data?"
"Systems check complete," he reported. "Preparing to launch."
They felt a deep lurch that left their stomachs somewhere high above. Ishta groaned and leaned against the wall. But the discomfort only lasted a moment, and their flight swiftly smoothed out.
"Give me a view of the yacht," Zh'shrythaa said, and Applewood switched the viewscreen to a rear view, showing the gleaming silver yacht and the dark, looming ship just beyond. "Perfect. Now, I want remote control of the yacht's navigation system."
"Controls set, Captain," Data said, and she touched his shoulder. Taking the hint, he stood so she could take his place.
As the captain settled in, Ishta caught several silvery glints shooting off from the vast, shadow-like ship, like meteors streaking against a clouded sky. "Are those the escape pods?"
"I sincerely hope so," Zh'shrythaa said. "Because time's up…"
Handling the controls with the skill of an experienced pilot, she dropped the yacht's shields, aimed it toward the larger ship, and locked it on a direct course of impact with the ship's nacelles.
"Good bye, old friend," she whispered, leaving Data and Applewood to wonder if she meant the ship…or Hugo… "Mike, get us out of here."
"Aye, Captain," Applewood said, engaging at top impulse speed as they watched the collision play out behind them.
The small impact rapidly grew to a swelling fireball, and Ishta realized, "She set the yacht to self-destruct! Deities – Data, did you know she—"
"I suspected as much," he admitted, and Ishta turned her incredulous stare from him back to the swell of flames silently engulfing the shadowy ship.
"Good grief… I guess that explains the countdown…"
"My god…" Data's amber eyes widened and he stepped closer to the viewscreen. "Mikey… You said your ship was something of an amalgamation. But…just there. Was that not the starboard drive section of…"
"Of the Enterprise-E?" Mikey cast him a small, sadly commiserating smile. "I wanted to tell you, my friend. But, our ship…the ship that Stairway led you to… The ship we're seeing now. She was my Enterprise, Data. NCC-1701-F."
Data swallowed hard, swiftly filing and storing his powerful memories of the loss of the Enterprise-D before they could rise up to overwhelm him. "Oh… Oh, I'm so sorry…"
"As am I, Mr. Data," Zh'shrythaa said hoarsely. "This will be quite a blow to the Federation. Though not as severe as it could have been, were the ship to fall into enemy hands…and be turned against us." She sniffed a little and raised her chin. "Still, Admiral Shaeffer knows to expect the survivors. And there's still a chance we can get you and your children home."
"How?" Ishta demanded. "Does this dinky pod even have warp drive?"
"It does," Zh'shrythaa told her. "Though, its limit is Warp 5."
Ishta scoffed. "Well, that sucks! It'll take forever to get to Nineveh IV at that speed! And what about weapons? Didn't someone say there were Romulans out here!"
Kahlestra raised her hand, as she would at school. Data nodded at her. "Yes, Kay?"
She lowered her hand. "I have an idea," she said. "I meant to ask you about it before, but…" She gestured to the still-exploding ship and gave an awkward shrug. "I don't know if it'll work, or just waste more time… But, there's a planet…a super-ancient site I've been reading about. And, if it's there – if it's real…" She smiled. "We could get back to Nineveh IV from there. Maybe even return to our own time!"
To Be Continued...