Star Trek Enterprise Shockwave

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POCKET BOOKS
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or dead
is entirely coincidental.
AnOriginal Publication of POCKET BOOKS
POCKET BOOKS, a division of Simon & Schuster, Inc. 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New
York, NY 10020
Copyright © 2002 by Paramount Pictures. All Rights Reserved.
STAR TREK is a Registered Trademark of Paramount Pictures.
This book is published by Pocket Books, a division of Simon & Schuster, Inc., under exclusive license
from Paramount Pictures.
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ISBN: 0-7434-6455-9
First Pocket Books printing October 2002
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POCKET and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
For information regarding special discounts for bulk purchases, please contact Simon & Schuster
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Printed in the U.S.A.
Includes excerpts from the following episodes:
“Cold Front” written by Stephen Beck & Tim Finch
“Detained” teleplay by Mike Sussman & Phyllis Strong; story by Rick Herman & Brannon Braga
For Chris Van Note-Burman
Contents
Prologue.5
Chapter 1.7
Chapter 2.11
Chapter 3.15
Chapter 4.18
Chapter 5.22
Chapter 6.27
Chapter 7.30
Chapter 8.35
Chapter 9.37
Chapter 10.41
Chapter 11.44
Chapter 12.47
Chapter 13.51
Chapter 14.54
Chapter 15.59
Chapter 16.62
Chapter 17.67
Chapter 18.70
Chapter 19.74
Chapter 20.78
Chapter 21.81
Chapter 22.86
Chapter 23.89
Epilogue.93
Acknowledgments.95
About the e-Book.96
Prologue
“Next you have a briefing with the I.M.E.” The lieutenant junior grade rattled off the list as they sped
down the halls of Starfleet Headquarters. “From there you’re meeting with Commander Williams on the
Starfleet Headquarters expansion project, followed by a briefing concerning the Vulcan/Andorian
situation, and then there’s the groundbreaking for the newest Zefram Cochrane Elementary School. Since
the school is in Australia, you’ll be doing that one via comlink.”
Admiral Forrest continued down the hall, moving at his now customary speed, which was twice the pace
he used to walk beforeEnterprise started its mission ten months ago.Why don’t I ever just stroll places
anymore? he wondered, only halfheartedly listening to his schedule for the day. The itinerary never
mattered this early in the morning, as it was bound to change a half dozen times before he even made it to
his next destination. Checking the time,[2]Forrest noted that technically his workday wasn’t even
supposed to have begun yet and he was already running fifteen minutes late.
“... Afterward you have a brief meet-and-greet scheduled with the newest group of cadets, and that
brings us to lunch.” The lieutenant looked as if he was already exhausted. Forrest had to give the kid
credit. As keeper of the schedule, he was the first one in the office in the mornings and the last one out at
night. Of course, most of the stress in the lieutenant’s life came from the fact that he revered the schedule
as if it were written on stone tablets as opposed to being a generalguide to the day, merelysuggesting
things that the admiral was supposed to do.
“But you are going to allow me to have a lunch today, right? I mean more than just a ration pack on the
go like the last two days.” Forrest liked to tease the lieutenant about his schedule. Sometimes it was the
only fun he had in a day.
“Certainly, sir,” he replied, slightly flustered. “You have a lunch meeting with Ambassador Soval.”
And sometimes the joke backfired.
“Very well.” Forrest tried not to sound too frustrated by the meal plan. It was best to keep his personal
feelings from his command staff in certain situations. It wasn’t that Forrest held any particular animosity
toward the Vulcan, he had just never managed to get through a meal with the ambassador without
suffering indigestion.
“And that brings us to the afternoon schedule,” the lieutenant continued.
[3]They had finally reached Forrest’s office. “We’ll worry about that later,” he said, halting. “I have
some things to go over. Why don’t you take a break?”
“Begging the admiral’s pardon, but the I.M.E. briefing was scheduled to begin—”
“I know, Lieutenant,” he interrupted. “But here’s the best part about being admiral: no matter what time
something isscheduled to begin, they’re not going to start without me. Trust me, Lieutenant, the
Interspecies Medical Exchange isn’t going anywhere.”
“Yes, sir.” The lieutenant looked as if he was about to mark down that valuable piece of information in
his copious notes.
“I’ll just be a few minutes,” Forrest assured him. “Why don’t you go take a coffee break, or possibly
something without caffeine.”
“I actually have some work to do on your afternoon schedule, sir.”
“I thought you might,” Forrest mumbled, waiting for him to leave. “Dismissed.”
“Yes, sir.”
Entering his office, Admiral Forrest took a deep breath, wishing he had an hour to relax before he was
expected to be in his next meeting. He had often hoped someone would finally perfect those transporting
devices so that he could have one installed in his office and he could just beam himself from meeting to
meeting. Until such a time, Forrest would have to settle for these little unplanned breaks to lighten the
load. He stood, looking out the[4]window at the San Francisco Bay, wishing that the damn window
opened so he could at least get some fresh air.
Although there was a ton of work on his desk, he didn’t really have anything pressing to look over
contrary to what he had told his aide. He simply needed to take a few minutes for himself before the day
began to overwhelm him right out of the starting gate. But as he stood looking out at the beautiful vista,
the voice in the back of his head kept nagging at him that he should get to work.
Sitting behind his desk, he did a quick scan through his computer to make sure nothing important had
come overnight. Pleasingly, he found nothing more than the usual memos and reports.
Never one to sit idly, even when relaxing, Forrest took a moment to look over the latest ship designs. If
Enterprise’s mission continued to meet with the same success it had been seeing, he hoped that it
wouldn’t be long before they had an entire fleet of Warp Five ships deployed to explore the stars.
And all of them out there without you,he thought with a twinge of regret.
He couldn’t help but envy the many varied and exciting experiences of theEnterprise crew. Granted,
Archer’s mission had hit its fair share of snags, but that was to be expected. However, no matter what
the ultimate outcome, every dayEnterprise was in space provided copious amounts of new information
leading to the formation of additional departments for research, theoretical discussion, and, of course,
meetings. They were[5]on the verge of a new age, and like the Industrial and Technological ages before
them, Forrest knew that this would be a time for great strides in the evolution of the human race.
And I get to oversee it all from behind a desk.
Every time Forrest had a briefing or just a simple conversation with Captain Archer, he would feel the
stirrings of jealousy. To be out there, among the stars, exploring was something every member of
Starfleet wished he or she could be doing, and Admiral Forrest had the unenviable position of being the
one on the receiving end of all the new information. He got to be the one to see excitement on Archer’s
face and hear the lilt in his voice as the captain detailed one discovery after another. And, short of being
out there himself, Forrest wouldn’t have changed his position for the world.
The Vulcans made it known that they would have preferred Captain Gardner to lead the first exploratory
team into what had previously been known as “deep space.” But Forrest knew that Starfleet had made
the right choice in Archer because the two shared an understanding of what it meant to be explorers, and
that kinship made the admiral feel as if, in a way, he was out there as well.
“Admiral,” his aide’s voice came over the private com-link from the outer office.
With a heavy sigh, Forrest roused himself from his musings. “I’m on my way,” he said before he could
be reminded, once again, that there were people waiting to meet with him. What he had said before was
true. The[6]meeting certainly wouldn’t begin without him, but there was only so long he could keep
people from their jobs.
Pulling himself out of his chair, Forrest stopped for a moment and looked into the corner of his office,
thinking it would be the perfect place to put one of those biotransport platforms. Stepping out of his
office, he found his aide waiting with a padd, ready to go over the rest of the schedule.
This is going to be a long day.
Chapter 1
Enterprisesailed toward the planet at low warp, setting an almost leisurely pace in keeping with the
mood of the crew. Even though only a portion of them had been able to take part in the recent shore
leave on Risa—the self-proclaimed pleasure planet—the mood of relaxation had been contagious.
Throughout the ship, people were considerably less stressed and actually appeared to be enjoying the
often repetitive tasks of maintaining the ship as it traveled through space. Of course it helped that no one
had fired upon the ship in several days.
In their current mission, making contact with a new species was primarily the responsibility of the senior
staff, while the rest of the crew continued their day-to-day work, eagerly anticipating data regarding the
latest alien interaction. Once the data began streaming in, their fun began. Each department would glean
bits of information most suited to its field of study and then examine it, learn from[8]it, and prepare a
report. The reports would be logged, compiled, and forwarded to Starfleet, where the folks back home
would have their own fun. Being on the front line of exploring new worlds and new civilizations made
even the lowest ranking crewmembers beam with pride over the importance of even the most menial of
jobs.
True, there had been some awkward first contacts, the Klingons and the Andorians came to mind.
Despite his crew’s best efforts, the Klingons had been downright hostile. The Andorians dubbed the
humans “pinkskins” and judged them guilty by association, but they seemed to be thawing ... a little. The
same could not be said of the race that was humanity’s very first alien encounter, the Vulcans.
Captain Jonathan Archer thought over those first contact situations as he walked through the corridors of
Enterprise. Their next mission promised to be almost as relaxing as the recent R&R had been—or, he
hoped, even more so considering his visit to Risa had ended rather abruptly.
Archer always looked forward to the thrill of making contact with new alien races even more than the
rest of his crew did, although he tried not let it show through the professional air expected of all Starfleet
captains. It was often difficult for him to keep in mind that with every thing he said and every move he
made, he was representing the entire populace of Earth. It was daunting to say the least.
“Mornin’, Captain,” Commander Charles “Trip” Tucker said as he and Sub-Commander T’Pol caught
up with Archer as they passed the mess hall.
[9]“Sir.” The Vulcan nodded her greeting.
“Good morning,” he replied. “Have all the preparations been made?”
“Yes, sir,” T’Pol replied. “We should be entering the star system shortly.”
“They don’t have a problem with us dropping by?” Archer asked as he entered his private mess
followed by the officers. Stepping up to the serving station, he poured coffee for himself and Trip. Archer
then poured T’Pol her mug of hot water and noted silently as she added a slice of lemon.
“Living dangerously?” teased Trip.
As the ranking officers onEnterprise, the trio had grown into a rather comfortable and sometimes even
informal working relationship. Archer and Trip had been friends for years and quite often fell into casual
banter when discussing official business. However, as a Vulcan, T’Pol had been much slower to
understand the benefits of such a friendly, informal atmosphere, but had been gradually coming around as
she grew more comfortable with the erratically emotional crew.
“On the contrary.” T’Pol ignored Trip’s teasing and continued her report. “The operations supervisor
said they haven’t had visitors in nearly six months.”
A sly smile came to Trip’s face. “Is it really a matriarchal society?” The grin broadened as his mind
played over the full implications of his question. “Do the women make all the decisions?”
“Until recently,” T’Pol explained, apparently without noticing the subtext in Trip’s sudden interest in the
[10]colony’s hierarchical structure. “But in the last decade, the Paraagan males have made great strides
to acquire equal rights.”
Accepting his own cup of coffee from the captain, Trip conspiratorially added under his breath, “Still,
it’d probably be best if we didn’t get too flirtatious.”
“Probably,” Archer agreed, knowing that the odds of his chief engineer making such a breech in
protocol with the colony’s leaders were slim, but probably higher than the possibility thathe would do
such. Back to the topic at hand, Archer was impressed by the accomplishments of the society they were
about to visit. “I read that the colony started off twenty years ago with just thirty miners and now there
are over three thousand. They have schools, landscaped communities, and even some kind of museum.”
The three officers took their seats around the table, their empty breakfast plates waiting to be filled. They
often dined together in the captain’s mess, and their places had already been set for them as their meal
was being prepared by Chef.
Trip considered the accomplishments of the Paraagans. “You think twenty years from now there’ll be
Earth colonies out this far? Human kids growing up on ‘New Sausalito’?”
Archer thought over the idea while a flood of possibilities flashed through his mind. Their mission could
easily involve discovering those suitable environments in which Earth could expand its borders into space.
Early human exploration had always been motivated by the search for new land. Though Starfleet’s
interests were primarily[11]scientific, it wasn’t too much of a jump to add territorial concerns to the list.
“If my father was alive, he wouldn’t doubt it for a minute,” Archer said, referring to the man who had
introduced him to the concept of space exploration, inspired his interests, and helped nurture them.
“We’re making history with ...”
“... with every light-year,” Trip continued the sentiment in unison with his captain and friend. “You know,
I think I’ve heard you say that at least half a dozen times.”
Archer was a bit embarrassed at being caught in his inspired ramblings. He took an almost gleeful pride
at being given the opportunity to live out his dream, and his father’s as well. It certainly wasn’t his fault
that every now and then he was awestruck by the enormity of what his crew was doing. The first humans
to travel so far out into space, visiting new planets.How many other people woke up this morning to
prepare for a meeting with a new race of people?
The com chirped, rousing Archer from his thoughts. Getting up from his chair, he took a few steps to the
companel on the wall and pressed a button to make contact with whoever was paging him. “Archer
here,” he said into the air.
“The Paraagans have given us clearance to enter orbit,” Ensign Mayweather’s voice came over the com
system.
“Have you received their landing protocols?” T’Pol asked from her seat.
“They’re coming in now,” Mayweather confirmed.
“We’re on our way,” Archer replied.
Trip and T’Pol were immediately out of their chairs.
[12]“I hate meeting new people on an empty stomach,” Trip said, looking down at the still empty plates.
“Perhaps you can find a Paraagan male willing to prepare you a substantial meal,” T’Pol suggested,
implying that she hadn’t entirely missed the sexist undertones of the earlier part of the conversation.
Archer enjoyed seeing Trip caught off guard by her comment. He remembered how difficult things had
been when she was first assigned to join them on their mission to return the Klingon, Klaag, to his
homeworld. With every passing day she seemed to be better ingratiating herself into the crew and even
developing a rather dry sense of humor. That’s not to say that the crew was entirely at ease with the
Vulcan science officer, but things were definitely getting better. Archer felt that the close Vulcan/human
interaction was having a positive effect on T’Pol. The way she regarded humans had changed
dramatically since her first days on the ship.
In much the same way, Archer knew that she had been changing his opinion toward Vulcans on the
whole. Her calm, steady manner often provided the stability he needed in extreme situations, and her
mere presence on his ship helped him better understand some of the misconceptions he had concerning
her race.
“So what kind of greeting should we expect from the Paraagans? Are there any ceremonial customs we
need to be briefed on?” Archer asked as they made their way to the launch bay. The main level of the
bay was up one deck, but[13]they could get to the shuttlepod just as easily by going through the lower
level on E-deck.
“While the Paraagans as a race do observe a number of ceremonial customs,” T’Pol explained as they
continued their way around the corridors in the outer rim of the deck, “the colony has eschewed some of
those customs. Their society has developed more of a ... nonconformist attitude.”
“Sounds like my kind of people,” Trip said.
“There are no ritual greetings to my knowledge,” T’Pol concluded, ignoring that last comment.
Archer nodded to a passing crewman. “You know, we should really consider bringing some kind of gift
from Starfleet in these situations. We might want to design some kind of commemorative souvenir that is
indicative of Earth culture.”
“How ’bout one of them night-lights in the shape of Zefram Cochrane they sell in the gift shops in the
Embarcadero,” Trip suggested with a laugh. “Kids just love those things.”
Archer chuckled at the idea as well, knowing it was purely intended as a joke. “That’s not exactly what I
had in mind.”
“Not all races appreciate the custom of exchanging gifts,” T’Pol reminded him as they reached the
launch bay. “Some people may see it as an insult, no matter what the gift.”
“Even so, I hate going places empty-handed.” Archer tapped a button to open the hatch. “Maybe I’ll
discuss it with Admiral Forrest during our next briefing.”
[14]“If you insist,” T’Pol replied as they entered the launch bay.
He had gotten used to T’Pol’s tone of disapproving acquiescence; he’d heard it so many times before.
At least I’ve been hearing it a lot less lately, he thought as they climbed up to the main level.
“The shuttle’s ready for departure, Captain.” Lieutenant Malcolm Reed’s head popped out the hatch
upon hearing their footsteps approaching. “I’ve completed the preflight.”
“Good job, Malcolm,” Archer replied, stepping into Shuttlepod One along with Trip and T’Pol. He was
always pleased when his ship ran like a well-oiled machine. It was a testament to his own abilities that his
hand-picked crew always functioned in top form, especially considering they had departed Earth far
earlier than they had planned and, as a result, had been playing catch-up for months. Having the shuttle
ready for departure by the time he stepped into the launch bay was what Archer expected of his tactical
officer.Enterprise was easily becomingthe example of what a Starfleet ship should be.
Pulling the hatch shut behind them, Reed took his seat at the helm, making final preparations to launch as
Enterprise hovered in orbit. The planet was a swirling mass of blue and green—somewhat unexpected
for a world that was a mining colony.
From the underbelly of the ship, the bay doors slowly opened and Shuttlepod One drop-launched into
the cold expanse of space. Reed fired the engines and began the slow and deliberate descent toward the
planet. As they[15]approached the atmosphere, sunlight streamed through the pod’s ports.
Working judiciously at the helm, Reed was concentrating on the procedures for entering the planet’s
atmosphere. “This should take a bit longer than usual.”
“It wouldn’t be very polite to ignite their atmosphere,” Archer casually observed, intentionally concealing
any tone of concern in his voice. “When are you supposed to close the plasma ducts?”
Focusing on both his captain’s question and the task at hand, Reed continued to work the helm. “The
protocols said fifty kilometers, but to be on the safe side, I’m going to lock them off at about
seventy-five.” With a few more buttons Reed confirmed that the plasma ducts were closed and locked.
Going over procedures in his head, he double-checked his own work, knowing the importance of the
calculations.
摘要:

         POCKETBOOKSNewYorkLondonTorontoSydneySingapore Thisbookisaworkoffiction.Names,characters,placesandincidentsareproductsoftheauthor’simaginationorareusedfictitiously.Anyresemblancetoactualeventsorlocalesorpersonslivingordeadisentirelycoincidental. AnOriginalPublicationofPOCKETBOOKS  POCKETBOO...

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