wait a while longer, Riker decided, chiding himself gently for getting so far ahead of himself so quickly. We don’t even know whether or not this thing still exists—if it ever really did.
Turning to face Lavena, he said, “Lieutenant, get the coordinates for the nearest candidate star system from Commander Pazlar and lay in a course, best speed.
“Let’s find out how lucky we can be.”
2
Despite his most disciplined efforts to clear his mind for meditation, Tuvok’s thoughts took wing. He was sitting before an old-style Starfleet copilot’s console, alternating between sending repeatedly unheeded hails and watching through a curved transparent aluminum window as a battered, airless moon drew inexorably closer. A half-shadowed jovian planet loomed in the space beyond, its ocher-and-ivory cloud tops striated by fierce cyclonic winds. Just visible near the partially obscured satellite’s eastern limb, a motley, asymmetrical spacecraft orbited.
Tuvok turned to his immediate left and saw that his old friend and superior officer, the Halkan pilot Lojur, was handling the controls.
“It’s too bad it wasn’t the shuttlecraft Fujitsubo and L. J. Akaar’s team that managed to track these people down, Ensign,” Lojur said, his bantering tone belying the sincere emotion he seemed to be struggling so hard to master. “Have I mentioned yet how much I hate this mission?”
It came to Tuvok with no small degree of either surprise or fascination that he was back aboard the shuttlecraft Amagiri, one of the auxiliary vessels the U.S.S. Excelsior had carried during the years he had served as one of that starship’s science officers. The moon that the Amagiri was approaching circled the gas-giant world Eurymede VI, about a parsec from Klingon space. Captain Sulu had pursued this mission using Excelsior’s entire complement of shuttlecraft because of the extensive battle damage that the starship had recently sustained at the hands of rogue Klingons; at the present moment, Excelsior needed every available hand to effect repairs and to tend to her scores of injuries and casualties.
“I am certain that no one regards any assignment such as this one as a pleasant undertaking, Commander,” Tuvok heard himself saying in response. “However, our duty is clear. We cannot permit these individuals to deploy the device. And we are empowered to use whatever means may be necessary to ensure that outcome.”
Tuvok remembered that he had been but a lowly ensign at the time of the Eurymede mission. Matters of friendships aside, had he really spoken so pedantically to his superiors in those days?
“We’re here to confiscate the device,” Lojur said grimly. “As the Terrans say, ‘We get in, we get out, and no one gets hurt.’”
Tuvok nodded. “That would be the ideal outcome. However, whether or not we will achieve that result is largely dependent upon the actions of the privateers who are holding the device—privateers who, I might add, are continuing to ignore my hails.” Tuvok’s gaze moved back and forth between his controls and the motley vessel, which was still growing considerably in apparent size moment by moment.
“Privateers? I thought they were refugees.”
“So they have told us, Commander. The fact remains, they have come into possession of illegal technology that endangers not only this entire star system, but perhaps others as well.”
“Give me a damage assessment on the other ship, Ensign,” Lojur said.
Tuvok studied the slowly approaching ship through the forward windows as he ran another sensor scan. Thanks to Lojur’s delicate handling of the Amagiri’s phasers, the other vessel’s single torpedo bay was visibly scorched and melted.
“Warp capability has failed, but there appears to be no immediate danger of a core breach. Minimal impulse power and life-support are available, so they cannot outrun us.”
“Can they deploy the device?” Lojur wanted to know.
“The vessel has only one torpedo launcher, but it has sustained heavy damage,” Tuvok said.
The comm console near Tuvok’s right hand flashed, heralding an incoming signal. He tapped the console and a small viewscreen lit up, displaying the sad, careworn face of an elderly humanoid male.
“Please, Starfleet vessel. Withdraw. Leave us.”
“This is Lieutenant Commander Lojur of the Federation Starship Excelsior,” Lojur said. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. You are in possession of a Genesis-wave generation device, in violation of the laws of the United Federation of Planets. It is an illegal weapon of mass destruction.”
“In the wrong hands, perhaps. But it is also an engine of creation. And I assure you, Commander, that we soon won’t be in possession of any such device—not after we activate it, that is. Once the Genesis Effect runs its course, we’ll have