The Sword of the Gods

[Atoz 77]

<< THE SWORD OF THE GODS >>

"Captain's log, Stardate 51916.3: Arriving at star system Y-131 for the simple task of picking up a cultural observer, we nevertheless ran into one or two minor... complications."

"I had to see this with my own eyes," said Lieutenant Commander Vespis, striding through the doors of the Transporter Room with a big grin on her face, her two antennae quivering with amusement. First Officer Charles Fawkes was standing gloomily beside the platform, looking decidedly uncomfortable in an unfamiliar wool and leather native costume. To complete the disguise, his short hair was topped with a mop-like auburn growth and his normally caramel brown skin was covered with a plastine epidermis of vivid blue. "You know," the Andorian engineer added, looking him over critically, "you look almost handsome, now that your face is a prettier color."

Lieutenant (j.g.) N'maste, the felinoid Ops officer manning the transporter console, looked up, then lowered his eyes back to the controls, carefully keeping his expression blank as if he hadn't heard a thing.

"Don't get used to it," growled Fawkes, suffering Vespis' gentle sarcasm with his usual stoicism. "You could still come with us, you know," he added. "All you'd need is a fuzzy wig to cover those two aerials sticking up out of your head..."

"Afraid not, sir," she sighed. "Wrong phenotype. Having blue skin doesn't make them Andorians."

"No, they're closer to Vulcanoids, actually," said Dr. Pierce, walking through the doors in a similar getup to Fawkes, adjusting the satchel that held his medical kit. "But they come in two races -- a dominant race with green skin, and a minority race with blue skin. Crowley chose the blue race to go incognito, so I figured we might as well do the same."

"Any word on Crowley?" asked Fawkes.

Pierce shrugged. "I've haven't heard anything."

Sebastian Crowley was a Federation cultural specialist, finishing a two month stint to observe a pre-industrial society on the planet Y-131-III. The Odysseus had arrived an hour ago to pick him up, but had as yet been unable to contact him. The best they had was his location taken from his subcutaneous transponder, which showed him stationary inside a long, stone building on the outskirts of the largest city on the planet, called Pamemis. He was surrounded by thirty or forty natives, so unless he moved to someplace more private, there was no option but to send an away team to find out what the trouble was.

"What about the Security detail?" asked Fawkes, fastening his comm badge to the front of his tunic, where it looked somewhat out of place.

"Waiting in the hallway," said Vespis. "All dressed and prepared like the two of you."

"Good," said Fawkes, turning to N'maste. "Keep a tight lock on our position. Send them down only if I ask for reinforcements."

"Of course, Commander," replied the felinoid, handing over two phasers.

"The planet has a Physical Sciences rating of 4," Fawkes said to Pierce. "Still at the flintlock musket stage. They've just begun experimenting with electricity. I doubt they'd even recognize it as a weapon, but keep it out of sight and you won't be tempted to use it."

"Absolutely," agreed the doctor, shaking the thick, artificial reddish locks on his head. "If we run into trouble, we can always sing at them and maybe they'll go away."

The comm system attention signal chirped. "Captain to Transporter room."

"Go ahead, sir," said Fawkes.

"Still no change in the situation, Mr. Fawkes," said the voice of Captain Atoz. "Be careful down there. Don't forget the Prime Directive is in force. That goes for you too, Hawkeye."

Doctor Pierce nodded. "Aye-aye, sir," said Fawkes, answering for both of them.

***
The two of them materialized in an empty alley of what seemed a sprawling, densely populated city. Even though N'maste had warned them that the local ambient temperature was around ten degrees Celsius, the chill came as a surprise after the standard ship's air. Pierce checked his tricorder for a bearing, and they set off down a cobblestone street. "You know I'm not an inquisitive bloke, doctor," said Fawkes as they walked, "but why does the Captain call you Hawkeye?"

"Oh, hasn't he ever mentioned it?" said Pierce. "We were lieutenants together on the Hyperion. Well, he was a full lieutenant. I was a junior lieutenant, just out of my internship."

"And...?" prompted Fawkes.

"It was a scout ship, right?" the doctor continued. "Crew of only 90. There were only five lieutenants on
the whole ship, so we had a sort of club. Each of us had a nickname, starting with the letter H. Mine was the only one that stuck."

"What? That's the whole story?"

"That's it."

They walked on in silence for a bit. "You know I'm going to ask," said Fawkes. "What was the Captain's nickname?"

Pierce opened his mouth to reply, but just then someone shouted at them. "Stop! What are you two doing here?"

The speaker was a green-skinned native, male, wearing something that appeared to be a military uniform and carrying a thick, wooden staff about four feet long. Pierce and Fawkes exchanged apprehensive looks. Several passersby -- all green-skinned -- had stopped to watch curiously, as the man came closer and repeated himself. "I said what are you Blues doing in this district?" The native word which their UTs had translated as "Blues" had been spoken in an obvious tone of hostility and distaste.

"Excuse us, sir," said Fawkes, giving him a polite bow. "We are just on our way to... meet some friends."

The man looked them over carefully, until the two Starfleet officers began to worry about their disguises. "All right, move along. But don't let me catch you here again. You people should know to stay in your own district. Especially these days."

"Thank you, sir," said Fawkes, bowing again.

As they followed the signal from Crowley's transponder, Pierce and Fawkes found themselves entering a slum area. The street had become a mere gravel surface which crunched under their feet. The long stone building turned out to be an ancient barn of a structure with a sagging roof, its windows crudely boarded up to keep out the chill. Inside were jammed about a hundred blue-skinned aliens of all ages, huddled together for warmth and surrounded by bundles which evidently represented all of their possessions. The signal led them to an adjacent room, where a small group of men were talking quietly.

"Kosouz was arrested," one of the men was saying. "Taken right off the street because he looked at a Green constable the wrong way."

"But you know Kosouz," said another. "He goes out of his way to make trouble."

"Trouble maker or not," added a third. "I don't think the Greens will spare any of us. The closer that star gets..."

Fawkes and Pierce squatted down at the edge of the group. The problem now was how to find out which of these men was Crowley, and then to identify themselves without letting the others know they were from a different planet. The doctor was about to unobtrusively pull out his tricorder again, but the First Officer laid a hand on his arm. Clearing his throat, he quietly said, "So -- anyone going to the football match this afternoon, then?"

The majority of men in the group gave his nonsensical statement an irritated look and then pointedly ignored him. However, one man lying on a crude bed of straw did a rather comical double-take. "You're...? You're from---?" he blurted as he tried to stand up, and then went into a coughing fit.

Pierce quickly pushed him back to the bed. "Breath normally," he cautioned, lowering his ear to the man's chest as he felt for the man's temperature and pulse. "I think you may have a touch of pneumonia," the doctor decided, reaching into his satchel.

"We're from the Odysseus," said Fawkes quietly, leaning close so that they wouldn't be overheard. "You're Crowley?"

The other man nodded as Dr. Pierce's hypospray hissed into his arm. "I cannot tell you glad I am to see the pair of you!" he sighed, after the drug had taken effect. "I thought I was going to die here! I lost..." He broke off, glancing around at the other natives. "But perhaps we had better talk outside."

As Crowley hoisted himself to his feet, a little girl -- approximately nine or ten years old -- wandered in from one of the other rooms. "Are you feeling better, Mr. Kraw-lee?" she said, clearly having difficulty with his name.

"Yes, Pix," he replied, smiling as he tousled her thick, copper colored hair. "These are two friends from my village."

She beamed an infectious smile at Pierce and Fawkes. "Hello. Did you just get here? I can get you some water. Would you like that?"

"Yes, thank you Pix. We would like that a lot." The girl darted off, and Crowley hurriedly gathered up his belongings. "Let us depart, quickly, before she returns."

***

Captain Atoz was finishing a cup of Indrian tea, gazing at the beautiful class I comet which seemed to be just outside the porthole of his ready room but was in reality many millions of kilometers distant. He set down his empty cup and returned to the bridge, but before he could reach his command chair, the helmsman said hesitantly, "Captain, we may have a problem."

Atoz settled into his seat. Whatever it was, from the tone of Lt. Caeli's voice, it didn't sound particularly urgent. "What sort of problem, Mr. Caeli?"

"Do you remember that comet we passed as we approached the planet, sir?"

"Of course I do," replied Atoz. "I was looking at it just a moment ago."

"I can't be sure, sir," said the helmsman, swivelling around in his chair, "but it looks to me like it's aimed right at the planet."

Atoz frowned as he turned to Lt. Cmdr. Weir at the Sciences station. "Diane, can you-- ?"

"I'm on it," said the Science Officer, hurriedly tapping in commands to her console.

Come to think of it, it wouldn't hurt to also ask the ship's computer for confirmation. "Arachne?" said Atoz.

Immediately on the main viewscreen appeared a holographic avatar of an attractive young woman wearing a short white Grecian dress. "Yes, Captain?" she said, eagerly coming almost to attention. "What would you like?" If the situation hadn't been so grim, Atoz would have been amused. Clearly the ship's resident artificial intelligence was modelling her behavior on Ensign Penner this week.

"Please run a forward projection of this comet's path for me, in relation to the orbit and rotation of the planet."

"Right away, Captain." Her hazel eyes glanced away, focusing on nothing in particular for a fraction of a second. "Ready, sir. The comet will intersect the orbit of the planet in 162.53 hours. At that time, it will impact the surface on coordinates 084 by 035. I believe there is a city at that location, according to the map in my cartography database."

"Affirmative, Captain," said Weir, looking up from her own completed calculations with a stricken look on her face. "The principle city of the planet, Pamemis. Population of approximately two million."

[Atoz 77]

"As I was saying," said Crowley, as they passed out into the street again, "I lost my medikit and communicator when the boarding house I was staying in was burned down during a riot."

"A riot?" said Fawkes, looking up and down the street. It was getting on towards mid-afternoon, and there were quite a few people moving about their business. Occasionally there were carts and coaches, drawn by four-legged animals resembling a cross between a horse and an alpaca.

The cultural observer nodded. "This society is a classic example of racial dimorphism. In the past, the Blues were kept as slaves. Even today, they are still widely regarded as inferiors. Most of them accept the situation, but there are many whom are dissatisfied."

"I think we overheard something along those lines," commented Pierce, as Fawkes beckoned them both to follow him across the street in the wake of a lumbering cart. As they turned down another lane, they came across a small knot of Blues, shouting at a larger crowd of Greens, many of whom were shouting back. The overlapping exchange nearly overwhelmed the translation capacity of their UTs.

"Ever since the comet appeared in the sky," Crowley explained, gesturing towards the commotion, "some of the Blues have been calling it the Sword of the Gods, sent to punish the Greens for their sins. They become quite insistant."

"I can't imagine that the Greens like that kind of thing," said Pierce, as several constables came pelting down the street in their direction.

"No, they---"

"Mister Kraw-lee!" The little girl, Pix, had followed them. Crowley let out a hiss of frustration as she came dodging through the scattered crowd of onlookers. Fawkes' impression was that the girl was well accustomed to finding her way alone in the city, and he wasn't particularly concerned until the mob surged angrily towards them and she was lost to view. The constables pushed their way forward, obviously intending to arrest the Blues. And then a jagged stone flew past Fawkes' ear, narrowly missing him.

***
"Transporter Room to Bridge," said N'maste's delicate, perfectly-modulated voice over the comm system. "I have been monitoring the away team's progress, and I believe that they may be having difficulties."

Lieutenant Rosh, at the bridge Tactical station, glanced over his panel display. "Affirmative, Captain. They appear to be in the midst of a melee. Between seventy and eighty natives. I am not reading any firearms."

"Are you in contact with Commander Fawkes?" Atoz asked of the transporter officer.

"Not at present, Captain," replied N'maste. "However, the Security detail is standing by."

Atoz hesitated. He had no way of assessing whether Fawkes needed the reinforcements or not. Sending them down into an unknown situation could very well do more harm than good.

And then they heard the First Officer's voice: "Fawkes to Odysseus. Emergency! Four to beam directly to Sickbay!"

***

When Atoz arrived at Sickbay a few moments later, the first thing he saw was Fawkes sitting upright on one of the treatment couches, having his blue epidermis removed by one of the nurses so that she could treat the mild abrasion on his right cheek. Another blue skinned individual -- presumably Crowley -- was standing nearby, apparently unhurt. Atoz looked around. "Where's...?"

Then he caught sight of Pierce, bending over the operating table and busily at work on what appeared to be a native child aged about nine or ten. The doctor noticed Atoz out the corner of his eye. "Don't lecture me on the Prime Directive just now, Seven," said Pierce, showing clearly how preoccupied he was by using the Captain's first name. "She has a fractured skull and severe concussion. She would have died in seconds if I'd left her."

Atoz transferred his attention back to Fawkes. "What happened?"

"We walked straight into the middle of a riot," said the First Officer. "The little girl had been following behind us. I think one of the constables hit her by accident with his quarterstaff. At any rate, the doctor refused to leave her, seeing as how we were partly to blame for her being there in the first place."

Medical personnel frequently had trouble with the non-interference directive. Atoz supposed he should be thankful the doctor hadn't tried to set up a triage unit for the entire riot. "No harm done, I suppose. As long as they didn't see you beam up."

"I don't think so, sir," said Fawkes. "But it was a close run thing. In all the confusion--"

"Don't worry about it," said Atoz, turning to the cultural observer. "You must be Mr. Crowley. I'm Captain Atoz. Welcome aboard the Odysseus."

"Thank you, Captain," said the observer, firmly shaking his hand. "I don't mind telling you, this is one mission I shall be glad to put behind me."

"It's not over yet, I'm afraid," said Atoz. "As soon as you two are cleaned up and changed, we have a meeting in the Deck 3 conference room."

***

"I want options," said Atoz, seated at the head of the conference table facing his staff. At the far end of the table, Crowley sat quietly alongside Lt. Margaret Yee, who was representing the Medical department while Dr. Pierce attended to his young patient.

"Warning them to evacuate the city is out of the question," said Fawkes. "They'd never believe us unless we revealed we were space travellers, and the Prime Directive forbids that."

"The nucleus of the comet is approximtely 46 kilometers in diameter," said Rosh. "Forty percent of its mass is volatile ices. With nearly seven days to play with, I would be surprised if we could not reduce it to rubble with a combination of phasers and photon torpedoes."

"Yes, but that would be visible to the people on the planet," said Weir. "There's the Prime Directive again."

"Is there any chance of simply towing the comet out of the way?" asked Atoz casually.

"Not possible," said Chief Engineer Vespis flatly.

"Why not?" said Fawkes. "Surely we've got enough power to reinforce our tractor beams to take the strain."

"It's not a question of power," the Andorian replied. "It's a question of relative inertia. The comet outmasses the Odysseus by several orders of magnitude. It would end up towing us."

"On impulse yes," suggested Weir. "But what if we extended our warp envelope to cover the comet? Is that possible?"

Vespis shrugged rather reluctantly. "Well, I have read some technical papers by Geordi LaForge, claiming he did it on the old Enterprise. Frankly, I'm astonished he didn't collapse the whole ship into a quantum singularity. But that was a Galaxy class. And that Enterprise had the old engines." There was a series of nods around the conference table. It was easy to forget that Odysseus was one of the newer generation of starships with quantum slipstream warp engines. The older engines, though more powerful, had caused damage to the fabric of space/time and were being phased out of service.

"There must be something we can do," said Atoz. "The alternative is to sit by and watch millions of people die."

"And the physical deaths are only part of it," added Weir. "Pamemis is the center of scientific progress for the entire planet. From what Mr. Crowley tells us of the current mood down there, the disaster will be taken as a sign of divine displeasure. It could set back their progress by centuries."

Everyone paused to think. The silence was broken by a quiet voice from the end of the table. "It's not as if we'd have to move it very far," said Lt. Yee, as if she were thinking out loud.

Vespis and Weir sat bolt upright in their seats, staring across the conference table at one another. "Now that's an idea," said the Chief Engineer.

"It could work," agreed the Science Officer, thoughtfully raising her right eyebrow.

"What could work?" said Atoz, completely missing the point.

"Good old Isaac Newton," said Weir. "For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction."

"But you just said we couldn't tow it," said Fawkes. "The comet would be pulling us, remember?"

"Yes," said Vespis, "but even so, we'd be pulling back to an infinitesimal degree. As Dr. Yee said, if we do it right, it doesn't have to be very much." She looked across at Weir again. "It might be best to get in front of it, and pull it that way."

"Pull it toward the planet?" said Fawkes incredulously.

"Yes, sir," said Weir. "All we have to do is prevent it from hitting the city. We accelerate the comet just enough so that it passes the planet's orbit before the planet gets there."

Atoz rose to his feet. "It sounds like a plan. Begin calculating exactly how much--"

"Captain Atoz, if I may make an observation," said Crowley, speaking up at last. "Perhaps you have not considered that it may be best to allow nature to run its course. These people are on the verge of a racial divide which could become a civil war. They are already convinced that the comet represents the wrath of the gods. It could shock the Greens into changing their attitudes. While the deaths of millions are regrettable, in the long run, their culture might be better off."

There was a thoughtful silence around the conference table as everyone considered this new angle. Finally Atoz spoke. "It's not up to us to make decisions like that, Mr. Crowley. The whole purpose of the Prime Directive is prevent us from being tempted to make decisions like that."

"But, sir, your plan requires you to step in--"

"My plan is to save lives. If I can do that without violating the Prime Directive, that's exactly what I intend to do."

[Atoz 77]

"All propulsion systems show Green, Captain," reported Caeli, as Atoz settled into his command chair. "Full impulse power standing by."

"All stations at alert status," said Fawkes. "Emergency protocols 4, 5 and 6 in effect. Cargo bays secured. Sensor stations report secure."

"Engineering," said Atoz, activating the comm panel on his armrest, "when we hit the ionization cloud, we're going to need full power on the stabilizers."

"You'll have it, sir," Vespis replied.

"The tractor beams have been reinforced to triple redundancy, Captain," said Rosh at Tactical. "But we will need to approach to within one hundred thousand kilometers of the nucleus to be effective."

"You heard the man, Mr. Caeli," said Atoz, gripping the armrests of his chair. "Take us in."

The Odysseus had been running parallel to the head of the comet, skimming along the edge of its gaseous coma. As the helmsman touched the controls, the starship swerved and gracefully plunged into the swirling maelstrom. There was a slight tremble from the deck plates. "Shields holding," said Caeli. "Distance, six hundred thousand kilometers."

The viewer ahead showed nothing but a violently churning blizzard of highly charged particles, looking strangely beautiful. Weir said, "Sensors online. Radiation well within tolerance levels."

"Five hundred thousand... four hundred..."

"Pressure on the outer hull is rising," said Rosh, barely a second before the ship rocked slightly and the main lights of the bridge flickered almost unnoticably.

"Just a little turbulence," said the helmsman. "Two hundred..."

"Steady as you go, Mr. Caeli," said Atoz encouragingly. "Stand by on the tractor beam..."

Suddenly there was a blinding flash of light on the bridge, directly in front of Atoz. In spite of its brightness, it persisted for only a fraction of a second, and in its place stood the figure of a tall human male, wearing iridescent black and purple robes with a curious round head-dress. "Ah-ah-ah, Captain," the figure said, waving its finger in front of Atoz' nose. "You are about to interfere in a matter of which you haven't the slightest comprehension. What happened to your precious Prime Directive?"

Atoz blinked, rising out of his chair. "Excuse me, but who are you?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry," said the being, gesturing towards his outfit. "I had forgotten how limited your tiny minds are. Here, is this better?" He snapped his fingers, and now he was dressed rather incongruously in a Starfleet captain's uniform, identical to that of Atoz. "I have to say I've grown rather fond on this look."

"Q!" said Fawkes, darting forward.

"I see my fame precedes me," said the mysterious being. "The thanks I get, I suppose, for being both omnipotent and omnipresent."

"After all the grief you gave to Picard of the Enterprise," replied Fawkes in a belligerent tone, "all Starfleet command officers were warned to be on the lookout for you."

"Really? You must be the First Officer. You remind me so much of Riker."

"I'll take that as a complement," said Fawkes.

"Well, have it your way," said Q with a shrug, as he turned back to Atoz. "Where was I?"

"Pontificating?" suggested Atoz, still not sure what to make of this.

"Yes, of course! You were about to stick your nose into something you don't understand."

"That's very interesting," said Atoz, frowning. "Are you responsible for this, then? Do you have information about this comet that we need to know?"

"What do I look like, your Library Computer? I've given you fair warning. If you don't heed my advice, on your own head be it!" And with that, Q vanished in another brilliant flash of light.

The bridge was silent for a moment, until Caeli said, "Distance from the nucleus is now one hundred thousand k.m. and closing."

"Hold station here, lieutenant," said Atoz. Then, addressing the rest of the crew, he said, "Well, what do you think?"

"I don't even know who this Q character is," said Weir, looking puzzled.

"Despite appearances, he's not a humanoid," Atoz explained. "He's an immensely powerful non-corporeal entity."

"Judging by the reports I've seen by Captain Picard," said Fawkes, "it would be extremely dangerous to oppose him."

"Judging by reports I have seen," added Rosh, "it would be equally dangerous to take anything he says at face value."

"Agreed," said Atoz, with a heavy sigh. "I think the only thing we can do is continue with caution and see what happens."

Fawkes shrugged. "In for a penny, in for a pound."

"All right then, Mr. Caeli," said Atoz. "Bring us around in front of the nucleus. Stand by to apply tractor beams, Mr. Rosh."

"Aye-aye, Captain."

The Odysseus drove on through the ionization storm, finally taking up station fifty thousand kilometers ahead of the rocky core of the comet. "Give me a few minutes, bridge," said Vespis testily, over the comm line. "The tractor beams have to be spaced exactly equidistant or the comet could wobble, and waste all our effort." At last the Chief Engineer was satisfied, and Atoz gave the order to apply full forward thrust.

"Engines straining," said Fawkes from the executive officer's station. "I can't see that we're making any difference."

"Reading sheer stress on Tractor number two," said Rosh. "The comet appears to have a minute spin. Compensating."

"Impulse intermix temperature already approaching Red zone, Captain," said Caeli.

"Auxiliary power, Mr. Caeli," said Atoz. "Take it slow and steady. Give it time."

For twenty full minutes, nothing at all seemed to be happening. The main viewscreen showed nothing but a blanket of static. Then, "I think we're doing it, Captain," said Caeli.

"Confirmed," said Weir. "We've increased the comet's velocity by 1.4 millimeters per hour. If we can keep up this same rate of acceleration for twelve hours, the comet should miss the planet with a reasonable safety margin."

***
Twelve hours! This was the beginning of long, tense period of time for the crew of Odysseus, at Yellow Alert -- four hours on/four hours off -- as the engines tugged against the nucleus of the comet, nudging it painfully, almost microscopically forward. At least there was no danger of the fusion reactors running out of fuel here in the coma, with ionized hydrogen floating around free for the taking.

After the first shift change, Atoz went to his ready room, restlessly staring out a porthole which showed nothing but the stormy swirl of particles. Suddenly he remembered the little girl that Pierce had rescued, and it occured to him that a visit to Sickbay would at least give him something different to worry about for a change. He had just turned for the door when the deck under his feet seemed to drop away, sending him groping for footing.

The comm line chirped, and Atoz recognized the voice of Lt. Capek, the second watch duty officer. "It's the engines, Captain! They're superheating! We've lost thruster control, and the structural integ---" The rest of his report was lost in a blast of static as the comm system also failed.

Atoz lurched through the doors to the bridge as the ship pitched sideways. Fawkes arrived from the turbolift at the same time, running immediately to the Ops station, which displayed a red forest of warning lights representing crashed systems. Capek was at the Engineering sub-systems console, muttering frantically under his breath in Czech.

"The impulse engines won't disengage, Captain," he said, his eyes goggling with fright as the ship pitched over again, nearly hurling him from the seat. "And we've lost the stabilizers!" Atoz hunched over his shoulder, bracing himself in place with difficulty. The indicators showed that the engine temperature was already 20 points above the extreme danger level. He was surprised they hadn't already blown up.

"I'm reading a coolant tank rupture in Main Engineering, Captain," said Fawkes. "Someone is trying to interrupt power by cutting off the impulse stacks. If Vespis is still with us..." Two seconds later, there was a strangled whine as the impulse engines abruptly cut off, their temperature indicators slowly falling to nearly normal as the power levels dropped. The Odysseus stuttered to equilibrium, riding the bow wave of the comet on momentum alone.

"Vespis is still with us," said Fawkes.

"What happened, Mr. Capek?" asked Atoz, as the turbolift doors hissed open again. Weir arrived on the bridge and immediately went to the Sciences station.

"The engines began to show signs of strain, Captain," the duty officer explained. "There was no reason for it that I could see, but I gave the order to reduce power. Then, without any warning -- Poof! -- it was like the comet was somehow actively resisting, thrusting in the opposite direction. A thousand tons. Two thousand. Five thousand. Eventually, it was actually pulling the ship backwards!"

"That's not possible."

"I can only report what I saw, Captain," said Capek.

"Captain," said Weir from her station, "my readings confirm what Mr. Capek says. Somehow we've lost all the headway we gained in the past four hours. The comet is back on its original collision course."

***
Once the engine overload had been taken care of, the rest of the ship's systems gradually came back on line, with a little coaxing. "What do you think?" said Atoz, as he wearily sat down in his command chair. "Q?"

Fawkes shook his head. "I don't know, sir. Somehow, it doesn't seem consistant with his style, if you see what I mean."

Atoz shrugged, testing the comm system. "Engineering, status report."

"Thirteen of my people are in Sickbay, Captain," Vespis replied. "Main Engineering is still full of toxic gas. I managed to stop the overload from auxiliary control, but lost about fifty relays doing it. Power reserves are at 15%."

"I understand, Mr. Vespis," said Atoz. "How soon can you re-energize the engines back to full power, so we can continue what we were doing?"

There was a slight pause during which Atoz was sure he heard an Andorian swear word. "Give me three hours, and I'll see what I can do."

"You've got it. Bridge out." Atoz turned to Fawkes. "You and I have to come up with another plan. What happened to our engines wasn't an accident. Someone wanted us to fail."

"Yes, sir, but if that someone is Q..."

"Captain," said Lt. Blackadar at the Tactical station. "Sensors are detecting a space vessel off our starboard quarter. Roughly oval in configuration... thirty meters in diameter."

"Where did it come from?" said Fawkes, dashing to the Security officer's side to see for himself. "It's impossible for a cloaking device to function inside an ionization cloud like this."

"It wasn't cloaked, sir," said Blackadar. "It wasn't there before. It is there now."

There was a faint luminescence in the air as a slender humanoid figure materialized directly in front of the viewscreen. It was unlike any species Atoz had ever seen -- the texture of its skin was like very fine scales, greyish green in color, its head large in proportion to its body. Completely hairless, it was wearing a silver mesh bodysuit and had a small, oddly-shaped device literally attached to the left side of its skull. At the same time it materialized, it reached up and touched that device, and every control panel on the bridge went dead.

The figure spoke in a soft, almost bored tone of voice. "We had hoped that our first demonstration would teach you that opposing our will is futile. Why do you persist?"

Atoz rose from his chair in astonishment. "My name is---"

"Captain Seven Seven Atoz," said the alien condescendingly. "Yes, we have already absorbed your primitive computer records. You come from a planet called Indra II, and represent the United Federation of Planets."

Atoz stepped forward politely. "Who are you?"

"If you desire, you may address me as Lutaak."

"I meant what is your species? I've never encountered---"

"What we call ourselves is immaterial," the alien said, in a tone of lofty disdain.

"Are you aware that this comet is about to strike the planet?" asked Atoz. "And that it will obliterate a city of two million people?"

"Of course we are aware," Lutaak replied, in a quite matter-of-fact tone. "The center of the comet contains a sealed core of radiant alkanite. It is our intention to exterminate this entire species."

Atoz gasped. "Why?" he asked incredulously.

"Narrow-minded, irrational racial prejudice is one of the most distasteful things in the universe," said Lutaak. "If they do this to their own people, I shudder to imagine what they will do once they venture out into space. Better to destroy them now before they have the chance."

"What gives you the right to---?"

"There will be no discussion," the alien stated flatly, as he turned his back and disappeared.

[Atoz 77]

"I have no helm control at all," said Caeli, taking over his station from the second watch officer.

It was the same everywhere. The ship's computer was off line. All the control panels were blank, and refused to respond to manual override. Even the comm system and the turbolifts were down. Only essential systems such as life support, lights, and artificial gravity had been left open.

"Mister Fawkes, get down to Engineering," said Atoz. "See if Vespis has any brilliant ideas."

As the First Officer left, Weir crossed over to the command chair and handed Atoz a data padd. It turned out to be a routine sensor status report, hardly worth troubling him with under the circumstances, so he could only suppose she was just using it as an excuse to speak to him. "I know how important the non-interference directive is," she said quietly. "And I know that two million lives are at stake, even if they're not the nicest people we've ever run across. It's just... balancing them against one another, and against the safety of the ship as well..."

"Are you trying to tell me something, Diane?" said Atoz shortly, not looking at her.

The defensiveness in his voice startled her. Weir had known this man for five years -- since he had been First Officer of the Devonshire -- and he had always seemed a rock of self-confidence. It had never occured to her that he might suffer from doubts. She tried to repair the damage a bit by massaging his ego a little. "I suppose I'm trying to tell you how much better I feel knowing that you're the Captain, and I'm just your Science Officer."

He looked up, giving her a brittle smile. "So, as my Science Officer, do you have any theories or recommendations?"

"Yes, Captain," she said, relieved to see his mood lighten. "My theory is that Lutaak's device is able to suppress multitronic pathways. That's why our computerized control interfaces won't function."

"And what makes you think so?"

She held up her tricorder. "Because my tricorder, which uses duo-tronic circuits, still functions. Now, I don't doubt that he could have prevented this from functioning as well. But, based on what little I saw of him, he just didn't think it was important."

"Are you suggesting that we patch all our control interfaces through tricorders?"

"It's worth a try."

***
Without the computer, the diagnostic beds in Sickbay were silent and strange-looking, but they still functioned as ordinary beds. Only two of the engineering crewmen were still in the ICU; the others had been released to the regular ward. Atoz spoke with them for a time, and eventually found himself standing in a darkened room, watching as Pix slept peacefully. "I didn't expect to see you here," said Dr. Pierce, stepping from the shadows. "Not at a time like this."

"Something Diane Weir said to me," Atoz replied. "Sometimes I need to be reminded that our decisions don't just affect whole civilizations. Sometimes they can be very personal.. How is she?"

"Take a look," said the doctor, fishing his tricorder out of the pocket of his smock. "She regained consciousness some time ago, and there's no neural damage. Don't worry -- I gave her a short-term memory blocker and a sedative, so this will all seem like a dream to her, if she remembers it at all." He pressed buttons until he had her patient file on display. "But take a look at her hyperencephalogram. Very high empathic indications. If all the Blues are like her, my guess would be they're evolving in the direction of telepathy."

"That's very interesting, Hawkeye," said Atoz, in a tone of voice which said that in different circumstances, he might have found it interesting. "I was just thinking, no matter what her people evolve into, she deserves her chance."

His comm badge chirped, and Fawkes' voice said, "Captain? Do you hear me?"

"Indeed I do, Mr. Fawkes."

"We're ready to try it, sir."

***
"Captain's log, Stardate 51917.0: Commandeering nearly every tricorder on the ship, Lt. Cmdr. Vespis has managed to restore limited control of a few of our most critical systems. Enough, at least, to allow us to go on the offensive."

"Sensors are unable to penetrate the hull of Lutaak's ship very deeply," said Weir, carefully studying the ridiculously elaborate contraption made up of jury-rigged tricorders which littered her Sciences station. "However, I have located what looks like a control compartment, and I don't see anything that looks like a defensive screen."

"They are over-confident," said Rosh, with grunt of satisfaction.

"Nevertheless, we'll only get one shot at it," added Fawkes.

Atoz came to a decision. "Let's go, then. Diane, you're in command until either I or Mr. Fawkes returns." Then, without giving anyone the chance to argue, he joined the small party that was formed up inside a ring of pattern enhancers on the port side of the bridge. "Energize, Mr. Blackadar."

The Assistant Security Chief keyed a command into her tricorder, which sent a modulated pulse of mesons to the main Transporter room. The boarding party disappeared in shimmering blue streaks of light.

They reappeared inside a small chamber approximately four meters in diameter. Its shape was hard to determine because of a number of oddly-shaped components bulging from the dark gray walls, seemingly at random. At five different places, tubes filled with sparkling light ran from deck to ceiling, but there was nothing that looked remotely like a control panel. "Just a wild guess," said Fawkes, glancing at his tricorder, "I'd say this was the equivalent of Main Engineering, but whatever technology they're using doesn't register on my tricorder." He closed up the device and put it away.

As Atoz moved towards one end of the room, a triangular doorway with rounded corners appeared out of nowhere. Rosh hurried over to lead the way with his phaser rifle, and Atoz fell in immediately behind him. Fawkes drew his hand phaser, leaving Blackadar to bring up the rear. After transversing a narrow corridor, they emerged into a second chamber, slightly larger than the first but with fewer of those unknown components dotting the walls.

There were two of the aliens here, standing in front of a circular frame of some kind. Rosh and Atoz aimed their phasers, but for some reason the weapons would not fire. Without hesitating, Rosh charged into the room, grasping his rifle in both hands and using it like a bo stick. Lutaak raised his hand towards the device on his skull, but he never completed the gesture as the Security officer caught him in mid-chest, hurling him backwards.

The other alien was holding in one hand an object that might have been a weapon. Atoz tackled him, batting the device away as Fawkes came in from the other side and slammed him against the wall. The alien slumped to the deck, unconscious.

"You are obviously very highly evolved," said Rosh, his thumbs pressed tightly to Lutaak's windpipe, "but if you make the slightest hostile move, I will rearrange your respiratory system so that it is no longer servicable. Blink once if you comprehend what I am saying."

Lutaak blinked furiously, because he was unable to breathe. Rosh released his hold long enough to bend the alien's arms behind his back, then turned him around to face his Captain. "What did you primitives hope to accomplish by this?" said Lutaak, with as much haughtiness as he could summon. "Did you think to force me to change my mind?"

"Not at all," said Atoz, picking up the device the other had dropped. "Just making a point. You thought you had us defeated, under your control. But we overcame those obstacles -- because that's what living things do. We struggle to survive. We kick, we bite, we scratch, but we never give up. Maybe, with all your advanced technology, you've forgotten that about yourselves."

"I know a few people who would be glad to remind him, Captain," said Fawkes ominously.

"I don't think that will be necessary," said Atoz. "Release him, Mr. Rosh."

The Security Officer was obviously unhappy with the order, but he obeyed. "No more crude, primitive threats, then?" said Lutaak, rubbing his arms.

"No more threats," said Atoz. "Because violent, primitive races like us also discover kindness. We invent philosophy, civilization. We become better, if we're given the chance."

Lutaak realized that he was also talking about the species on Y-131-III. "But what if they don't, Captain? What if there's another Kodos the Executioner being born down there right now?"

"There's a little girl in my Sickbay right now. What if she grows up to be another Surak of Vulcan? We have to give them that chance. They may surprise us both."

***

"Captain's log, supplemental: Lutaak's people have agreed to observe the culture on Y-131-III for a few more centuries before making up their minds. They have allowed the comet to pass by without harm to the planet. And Pix has been returned home to where she belongs, none the worse for wear."

As Atoz returned to his ready room, he found someone already sitting in his chair with his feet up on his desk. "I hate to say so," said Q, "but I did warn you."

"Who were those people?" asked Atoz.

"The Vians?" said Q. "Arrogant little snits, aren't they? About thousand years more advanced than your Federation, give or take. But unfortunately they think it gives them the right to pass judgment on lesser species. Appalling, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," said Atoz.

If Q noticed the sarcasm in Atoz' voice, he gave no sign of it. "I could have taught them a lesson myself of course, but it was so much more fun this way, wasn't it?"

"You call what we went through fun?"

"Well, I enjoyed it," said Q carelessly. "The surest way to get Humans to do something for you is to tell them not to." Q stood up and strolled around the desk. "You know, Seven...May I call you Seven?"

"No, you may not," said Atoz, but Q continued to talk over him without listening.

"Seven, did it ever occur to you that you could simply have asked me for help?"

"Yes, it did," said Atoz. "But I couldn't help wondering what kind of contract I would be enterring into if I did that."

Q laughed. "I can see the time I spent with Jean-Luc wasn't entirely wasted," he said. "But I can't spend all of eternity chit-chatting. I have things to do. Ta-ta for now. Don't think I'm not watching you." With a brilliant flash of light, he was gone.

>>>THE END >>>>