Captain's Glory

31

U.S.S. ENTERPRISE

STARDATE 58571.4

Having is not so pleasing a thing as wanting.

It was an old Vulcan saying, and it was foremost in Riker’s thoughts as he sat in the captain’s chair on the bridge of the Enterprise. It was the command Riker had always wanted, but now that it was his, he felt he was an interloper.

Because the Enterprise was more than a ship. Indeed, he had served on two vessels to bear the name. But the crew had remained the same, as had the captain.

The first time Riker had declined a command of his own, he had done so for no other reason than to advance his career. Far better to be the executive officer on any of the Galaxy-class starships than commander of a smaller ship that would never be given a mission to push out beyond the edges of the Federation’s frontier.

But twice more during his posting on the Enterprise, command had been offered and Riker had declined. Both times, he knew, it was because his career path had been redefined. He didn’t want to be commander of just any starship-he wanted to live up to the ideals and the tradition of the U.S.S. Enterprise.

Then came the day when he finally realized that Picard and his Enterprise should never be separated.

When Jonathan Archer had retired from Starfleet, his Enterprise had been given a place of honor in orbit of Pluto, and millions had walked its corridors since, awed by the history that ship had seen and made. Kirk’s last Enterprise had likewise been retired with no thought of giving it to another commander.

With that realization, Riker had sought and been given command of the Titan.

Yet scarcely a year later, Picard’s Enterprise was his.

Sitting in Picard’s command chair, reflecting on the ironies of his own desire, watching the bridge staff work efficiently, he became aware of Troi watching him.

She smiled, and he knew she understood exactly what he was feeling. “You’re only borrowing the ship, Will. You did it before. And you gave her back.”

Riker accepted her encouragement. When Picard had been assimilated by the Borg, Riker had been temporarily promoted to captain of the Enterprise. At the time, no one had thought it would be possible to reclaim a drone from the collective, but Picard had returned to them. Riker hoped the same miracle might be accomplished when it came to recovering someone from the Totality. Certainly, the return of Spock suggested it was possible.

But everything would depend on what it was the Totality truly wanted. And for now, Riker couldn’t be sure.

Long-range sensors had revealed that the Belle Reve had passed through the Vulcan embargo without slowing, and even now was in orbit of that world.

Riker had no doubt that Kirk was intent on confronting the Totality, and he feared that in some way the Totality was intent on confronting Kirk. Riker had no way of knowing what drove the Totality, though he could understand why a father would be driven to the act of desperation Kirk had embarked upon. But what was inexcusable was that Kirk had either kidnapped Picard, or convinced him to assist in the foolish, hopeless endeavor.

Riker looked around the dark bridge of the Enterprise, already feeling the grief of loss.

Who would command her now?

“Captain,” Worf growled from the tactical station. “We are receiving an emergency subspace transmission.”

Riker sat forward in his chair. All Starfleet vessels and allied ships were operating under subspace-radio blackout in order to keep the secret of gravity adjustment away from the Totality as long as possible. But an emergency subspace message from Command could mean that something new had been discovered-a tactic, perhaps, that couldn’t wait.

“From Admiral Janeway?” Riker asked.

Worf, as always, was gruff and to the point. “No. It is from Captain Picard. He is under attack.”

Twenty seconds after Kirk had beamed down, the Belle Reve had gone to warp directly from orbit of Vulcan.

It was a maneuver forbidden because of the havoc it played on the planet’s sensor and communications networks. The two vessels that had escorted the ship to a geosynchronous orbit within range of Shi’Kahr were taken by surprise.

Spock had no wish to warn them of his plans, so, unlike Kirk in his confrontation with Picard, he had ordered the Belle Reve to warp without any detectable initialization period.

But in less than a minute, the escorts had apparently received their orders and gave chase.

In the command chair on the Belle Reve’s bridge, Spock watched the two Vulcan vessels closing relentlessly on the center viewscreen. He knew his ship could outrun them, given time.

But for what Kirk had asked him to do next, time was not a variable.

In his locked cabin, Picard was a caged animal.

He had felt the Belle Reve drop into normal space and seen Vulcan through his viewport. Then, only a minute after settling into orbit, the ship had slammed back into warp.

Now he heard phaser volleys impinging on the shields.

Kirk, he decided, either had gone crazy or was dead.

His door chime sounded.

Picard turned from the viewport and the streaking stars, folded his arms in disdain and defiance. “What is it?”

The door slid open to reveal Doctor McCoy, the frail physician with an attitude at least as tough as the Belle Reve.

“Time to abandon ship?” Picard asked.

“I already asked that question,” McCoy said with the barest flicker of a smile. “But Spock says that wouldn’t be logical.”

“Spock?”

“He’s keeping your seat warm, Captain.” McCoy nodded to the open door. “You’re wanted on the bridge.”

Chief Engineer Scott lacked the piloting expertise of Captain Sulu, but finesse and precise maneuvers weren’t needed to break through the Vulcan embargo the second time around.

Between the Belle Reve’s original design specifications and Scott’s year’s worth of tinkering and improvement, the ship had no need to evade Vulcan fire; it had only to keep flying, shields shedding phaser energy and quantum-torpedo disruptions like sea spray from the back of a breaching whale.

“Well done, Mister Scott,” Spock said.

“I wish I could take all the credit for it,” the engineer replied, not looking up from the flight controls. “But that’s the sorriest attempt at an embargo I’ve ever seen.”

Spock understood. According to the sensor readings displayed on the right-hand screen, only the original two escort ships remained in pursuit of the Belle Reve. None of the picket ships on embargo duty appeared to have warp capability. From their delayed responses, none appeared to have realized that the Belle Reve was attempting to leave the system.

To Spock, the logic of the situation was clear. “I believe that means not every ship in the system is under Totality control. The vessels ordered to enforce the embargo evidently were not warned of our approach, and I suspect one reason for their lackluster attempt to stop us is that their commanders are questioning their orders.”

Scott glanced back at Spock. “I’m still takin’ some credit for gettin’ us through that mess.”

“As well you should, Mister Scott.”

The turbolift opened and Picard stormed onto the bridge. He quickly took in the images on the three viewscreens. “What’s our status?”

“Shields at ninety-five percent,” Scott answered crisply. “Holding at warp eight point five. Our two Vulcan friends in pursuit are closing at eight point six.”

Picard turned to Spock. “Why aren’t we outrunning them?”

“They’re to be the subject of an experiment,” Spock said, “for which we will need the assistance of the Enterprise.”

Spock could see Picard working to control his frustration. “And the Enterprise is where?”

“Rendezvous in thirty-eight minutes at our present heading,” Scott said. “Provided we can break subspace radio silence t’ let them know that’s what we’re planning.”

Spock got up from the command chair, gestured to it.

Now Picard seemed more confused than angry. “Why do you need me for any of this?”

“Captain Kirk described his last encounter with you on his approach to Earth. We have no time for the same distrust to impede what we must do now.”

“Which is?” Picard asked.

“Destroy the Totality. Preferably in time to save Captain Kirk.”

Picard’s confusion escalated. “Doctor McCoy said Jim’s on Vulcan.”

“And Vulcan, for now, is the maw of the beast. Please, Captain, contact the Enterprise. There is a way to fight the Totality, but we must act quickly and definitively, before they have time to develop a countermeasure.”

Picard took the center chair, though Spock could see he was still skeptical of what he’d been told.

“Mister Scott,” Picard said, “open a channel to the Enterprise.”

McCoy coughed from his console. “On this ship, that’s my job.”

Picard waved his hands in dismissal. “Then… carry on, please.” He stared pointedly at Spock. “And I want to know everything that Jim has planned.”

Spock gave a small Vulcan shrug. “I am prepared to tell you. But Jim has warned me, you’re not going to like it.”

Picard sighed. “Of that I have no doubt.”

Spock began his briefing.