PART THREE
THE PERFECTION
Prologue
People tend to look at the future as an unwritten book. At least, that's how I had always looked at it. To me the future was intangible, something to not spend too much time worrying about. I had made some plans for the future, of course – who wants to spend the rest of their life working in a clothing store? After college I had wanted to travel around the world and, as the incredibly popular and frequently misguided mantra goes, find myself. Then I had imagined I would settle down, perhaps find a wife and raise a family. Nothing too spectacular or even difficult about a dream like that; it happens all the time in the movies.
But something about having my wildest fantasies come true within a period of atom-scrambling seconds had put the future in a new, much darker perspective. Every day now I had to live with the thought that everything I knew and loved might soon come to a crashing end. In some ways, when the final battle came at last, it was something of a relief. At least then there was no more waiting. No more anticipation of the closing darkness, because the darkness was there.
And while the relief was very temporary – the tragedy took care of that – the events I was about to witness extended well beyond the reach of anything I could have ever dreamed. The cost of seeing them was enormous, but I know that I would have done it all over again, given the chance.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The staff meeting had been arduous, but informative. Among other important items brought up at the table, I had been informed that while the warp engines were operating at peak efficiency, it was my duty as captain to inspect Main Engineering before the onset of the next battle. Lieutenant Commander Demansky seemed to be the most cheerful person aboard the ship, and he chattered happily as we rode the turbolift.
"I think you'll be very pleased with the modifications we've made, sir," he said. "We've bypassed some of the secondary EPS taps in order to create a twelve percent increase in warp power."
"Where are these draining power from?" I asked, mostly just to keep the conversation two-sided, but partly because I felt it was my duty to know more about what made my ship tick. Demansky glanced away briefly.
"Well, sir, we've powered down the ship's arboretum, and I believe that the holodecks on decks fifteen and sixteen have been taken offline. Other than that, I don't think anything has been really affected."
"I want you to make sure of that," I said. "I'd hate to find out at the wrong moment that something important doesn't work right just so that we can move a little faster at warp. Get me a report within the hour."
"Aye, sir," Demansky said, seemingly elated at the opportunity to do more work. The turbolift doors opened, and we stepped into the main level of Engineering. I wasn't sure what I was looking for in my inspection, but fortunately Demansky seemed to have been through this sort of thing before, and he led me through it very quickly.
"As you can see here, sir," he said, pointing to one of the consoles, "all our systems are functioning at above-normal levels. Also, I have something very interesting I'd like you to take a look at." He brought up a display of the warp core. "I read a most stimulating report by Captain Picard about the effect of warp core coolant on the Borg. In the event of an emergency, I have set up a command function which will automatically trigger a coolant leak. If necessary, it can be pumped very quickly throughout the ventilation shafts to any point on the ship."
"Interesting," I said.
"Very. Since it's very dangerous, I've encoded it to only respond to senior commanding officers. Only you, Commander Foster and myself have the authority to engage it. Also, just to be safe, I have made sure that coolant production for the core itself will be tripled at the moment the command is given. That way we can still keep the core from overheating."
"Understood. Good work, Mr. Demansky."
"Thank you sir," he said, beaming.
"Well," I said, casting a look around Engineering, "it appears that the Ascension is in very good hands. Unless you have anything further, I have a trip to make to Sickbay."
"No sir, that about covers it."
I turned to leave, making my way back to the turbolift.
"Oh, sir," said Demansky behind me. I turned.
"Yes?"
"Do try to take care of her for me."
My checkup took very little time. Aside from being a little banged up over the past few days, it appeared that I was in perfect health. As a matter of fact, I felt physically better than I ever had before. I imagined that a good part of that was the fantastic medical conditions that the twenty-fourth century provided.
Doctor Sarin was a middle-aged Vulcan with impressive credentials. He had served aboard twelve separate Starfleet vessels in his ninety-year career, and had been chief medical officer for ten of them. He waved the medical tricorder over me several times, staring at it with the expert precision befitting both his station and his heritage.
"I believe you are completely fit for duty, sir," he said. "My only concern is a slight decrease in your metabolic rate. This is probably caused by the stress you have encountered over the past few weeks. I recommend you conform to a daily regemin of alternating rest and exercise. If you would like, I can provide you with some holodeck programs which will expedite this process."
"Thank you," I said, "but I suspect I'll be getting a fair amount of exercise in the next few days. Maybe if we all survive this I'll come back and see you about that."
"Understood, sir," Sarin said with a nod. "In that case, you are free to go."
"Thank you. By the way, Doctor," I said, looking around Sickbay, "I assume that you are ready in your own right for the next few days."
"If you mean the ensuing casualties, then yes. We are prepared to convert the entire Sickbay into a trauma ward if necessary. Additionally, we are setting up additonal biobeds in Cargo Bay Three, in case we are in need of extra space."
"Excellent," I said. "It sounds like we're about as ready as we're going to get." With that, I walked out the door into the hallway. Jerry was standing there, apparently waiting for me.
"What's the news?" I asked. Jerry looked a little pale.
"Admiral Heaton has signaled us, and we're to rendezvous with his ship near the front in less than an hour."
"Do you think he knows?" I asked, hoping it wasn't the case.
"I wouldn't be surprised," Jerry said. "It's highly unlikely that word hasn't gotten back to him about our escape."
"Damn," I said. "Well, there's nothing for it except to meet up with him. I'll get on the horn and inform Admiral Janeway; maybe she'll have some idea of how to handle this. In the mean time, I want you to be ready to act as captain at the rendezvous. He may know that we're alive, but he doesn't necessarily know that we're aboard this ship. I'd like to keep it that way as long as possible."
"You know," Jerry said, "if he suspects that you're here, he may scan the Ascension for your life signs." I snapped my fingers.
"You're right," I said. "I wonder if it would be possible to mask them for the time being."
"I'll get on it," Jerry said. "The last thing we want at this point is for him to realize that you're here. We've got a lot going for us, but we're no match for that dreadnought ship of his."
"Understood. Find out if we can get it done quickly, and meet me in the Ready Room in fifteen minutes," I said. Jerry nodded, and walked away quickly.
"Honestly, Mike, I'm not sure there's much you can do," Janeway said. "I've been working for the past several hours on possible strategies, but even getting the Federation Council to take a look at this is just impossible at the moment. They're extremely preoccupied right now, and my concerns about a possible rogue admiral seem to be the least of their concerns."
"I understand, Admiral," I said with a frown.
"And I want to be clear on this; are we absolutely certain that Heaton is a traitor?"
"I only know what I saw, Admiral. Frankly, I'd have my doubts about it if it weren't for the fact that Captain Picard and Ambassador Spock feel so strongly about it."
"Yes, I understand. Both of them have something of a track record for sniffing out bad apples in the command line." She paused a moment, seemingly mulling over the possibilities.
"All right, Captain. For the moment, stick with your plan. Try to mask yourselves from detection if possible. The Ascension is a big ship, so even if Heaton decides to board it, you should be able to find somewhere to hide. I wouldn't think that he would have time for a full-blown inspection, even if it would be necessary to cover up his dirty work."
"Admiral, I'm not just concerned about our ability to hide from him. I'm also worried about what he's going to do with that ship of his. The last thing we need at this point is a gigantic starship turning on us in the heat of battle."
"You raise a good point, Mike. I've been thinking about that myself. And I think I have a partial solution."
"What's that?" I asked.
"I think that it may be time for me to pay a visit to the Byzantium."
"I see," I said. "And how is that going to work out?"
"Admiral Heaton may know that you are on to him, but it's extremely unlikely that he knows about my involvement. I am taking command of Voyager in less than two hours, and we're heading for the front. Your rendezvous with the Byzantium is on the way. I will call for a meeting with Admiral Heaton aboard his ship and, if necessary, I will have him confined to the brig."
"What if he's not alone, Admiral?"
"I've thought of that, too," Janeway said. "Unfortunately, at the moment, it's our best shot. I've spent a lot of years having to think on my feet; maybe it'll pay off."
"I hope so," I said. "Good luck."
"Same to you, Mike. Janeway out."
The image of the Starfleet chevron appeared again, replacing that of Admiral Janeway. Almost immediately, the door chimed.
"Come in," I said. Jerry walked in and handed me a comm badge.
"Here, take yours off and put this one on." I did as I was told.
"That was quick," I said.
"You have Demansky to thank for that. As soon as I started mentioning the idea, I could smell smoke from the wheels turning. He gave me this in about ten minutes. I've distributed them to the others. It won't mask your biosigns, but you will each show up as someone from a different race than your own. For example, you will appear to be a Bolian."
"I see. Admiral Janeway seems to think that it's a good possibility he'll want to board the ship as well. If that happens, we're going to have to find somewhere to lay low."
"Honestly, Mike, if he shows up aboard this ship, I'm just gonna stun the bastard," Jerry said. I smiled.
"I appreciate the sentiment. But we may not have that option when the time comes. I don't want you to stun him, only to find out that the Byzantium is full of people marching to the same drum as Heaton. We'll keep it as an option, but I want as many different plans as we can muster. Any idea what would be the best place to hide on the ship?"
"We have visual, Cap'n," said Tex.
"On screen," I replied. The viewscreen shimmered on, and ahead we could see the behemoth that was the Byzantium. "Weapons status?" I said. Julie glanced down at the monitor of her station, then back up at me. Her face betrayed very little emotion, but I could tell that she wasn't happy with what she was seeing.
"Their weapons are not powered up at the moment," she said, "but I'm having difficulty getting a good reading from the passive scan. There's something on that ship producing a large amount of energy, and I can't make any sense of it."
"If we up the scan level, he'll know something's up," Jerry said.
"Agreed. Don't raise the shields just yet, but keep your finger on the button," I said to Weston. She nodded from her console.
"Aye, sir." There was a beep from her console. "They're hailing us, Captain."
I stepped to the far side of the bridge, and nodded to Jerry."
"On screen," he said. Admiral Heaton's face came into view.
"Commander Foster," he said. "It's good to see you again."
"It's good to see you too, sir," Jerry said diplomatically. "If I may ask, why are we meeting out here? Shouldn't we be on our way to the front?"
"Yes, and we will shortly. There's just a small matter that needs clearing up. I want to know if you have had any contact from Captain Allen."
"Not since Vulcan, sir." Jerry acted his part well. He seemed to grow suddenly full of hope. "Why, have you had any update from them, sir? Are they alive?"
"I'm not at liberty to discuss that at present." He turned and spoke to someone offscreen, then glared back at Jerry. "You know," he said, "one of the distinct advantages of having actually lived in this timeframe is that you have more context with which to think outside the box. For example, Commander, I happen to know that you are lying, and that in fact you have your intrepid captain aboard your ship." Jerry's face went white.
"I don't know what you mean, sir," he stammered. On the screen, someone stepped into the picture next to Heaton.
"Allow me to introduce you to Lieutenant Commander Burel." The man looked gazed at Jerry, then nodded to Heaton.
"I don't understand," Jerry said, floundering by this point.
"Then allow me to clarify," Heaton said. "He is one of my finest officers, and has been serving me for several years now. And, as you might have guessed were you truly a competent commander, he is Betazoid.