STAR TREK - TNG - 32 - Requiem

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2024-12-20 0 0 466.17KB 154 页 5.9玖币
侵权投诉
For Isaac and Jack
—M.J.F.
For Paullina, Natasha and Misha
—K.R.
Prologue
Stardate: 16175.4
Earth Calendar Date: 2345
(Twenty-five Years Ago)
THE LIFT DOORS OPENEDand Captain Picard entered the bridge. Crusher, he noted, was already
at his post.
“Good morning, Captain,” Crusher offered cheerfully.
“Good morning, Jack,” Picard replied, watching as the lieutenant commander on watch quickly vacated
the center seat.
Picard took his place in the captain’s chair. Vigo was next on the bridge, placing his tall, blue-skinned
form at the weapons console. Picard’s exec, Gilaad Ben Zoma, came a moment later, and the others
quickly followed.
Crusher had already prepared the morning report, and his handsome human features were typically
animated.
“Very little activity, sir,” he said evenly. “A minor course correction at 0600 to avoid an
asteroid—location noted and logged. We’ve compensated and will arrive on time at Alpha Pensura.”
“Excellent,” Picard replied. “Run a level-one diagnostic on sensors. We’ll need them at peak—”
“Captain,” his communications officer interrupted. “A priority message from a ship in Beta Quadrant. No
identity codes, just the priority channel.”
“Answer hail,” Picard said. “Put them on the screen.” Picard stood and turned his attention to the
forward viewer. “This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of theU.S.S. Stargazer . How may we be of
assistance?”
Picard had never spoken directly to a Gorn, so he started ever so slightly when the alien face appeared
on the screen. As the Gorn considered him, Picard had only a moment to take in the reptilian features: the
coarse green skin, the multifaceted, almost insectoid eyes, and the prominent teeth.
“Captain,” the Gorn said—the computer rendering the voice against a background of hisses and the
sounds of guttural breathing. “We wish to speak with you in person. Bring your ship to the coordinates
we are transmitting now.”
Picard kept his tone and expression even. “Of course, we welcome—”
But the image of the Gorn snapped off the screen.
Jack Crusher was the first to speak. “Captain,what was that?”
Picard turned to face his science officer. “I suspect it was a beginning, Mr. Crusher . . . a beginning.”
Picard watched intently as the tape neared its end. The starship commander—the tape’s
protagonist—was obviously exhausted, and favoring his left leg. The captain instantly recognized the
signs—and knew the commander was near the end of his endurance.
The story never lost its appeal for Jean-Luc, and for perhaps the hundredth time in his adult life, he
watched as the moment of inspiration hit the starship commander. Watched as the nearly beaten man
collected his materials: simple chemicals, stones, and a bamboo tube. Watched as the commander faced
his enemy, aimed his crude homemade cannon, and then prepared to take his impossible chance.
As enthralled as ever, Picard looked on as the commander lit the fuse . . . and then nothing. The tape
ended where it always did, a split second before the fight was won or lost, a split second before the
death or survival of the starship commander and his crew would be decided forever.
The architects of that long-ago conflict, the mysterious and powerful Metrons, had pitted the two
commanders against each other and set the stakes. They had chosen that moment to end their
transmission. Starfleet had subsequently sealed the records of the incident, and the commander’s solution
had remained a mystery.
Picard, of course, had faced the identical situation more than once. Captain James T. Kirk’s encounter
with the captain of the Gorn ship on a stark and desolate world had become legend . . . and simulations
of that encounter were a common test of cadets at Starfleet Academy.
By Picard’s recollection, he’d been “killed” six times by the Gorn. The first time, he had been caught by
surprise and died after a brief hand-to-hand battle with the immensely strong reptilian humanoid. On
another occasion, he’d tried Kirk’s trick with the cannon, earning himself painful burns on his hands and
four weeks with an eye patch.
In Picard’s last four encounters with the Gorn, he’d died trying to negotiate with the alien captain.
Somewhere in between, Picard knew, was Kirk’s solution. Somehow, the captain of that early
Enterprise had altered the game. The rules that the Metrons had set down were simple: the two captains
would face each other in single combat, for their lives and the survival of their ships. The game had, in
fact, only one rule . . . survive. That much, it was clear, Kirk had done.
Yet, apparently, the Gorn ship had been spared as well. Kirk had found a way to win much more than
his own life and the lives of his crew.Somehow . It was an intriguing problem.
Picard’s thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of his officers, led by his exec, Ben Zoma—the first
officer’s dark gaze already fixed on the captain, indicating his concerns about their situation.
Ben Zoma was followed by the very tall, imposing Dr. Greyhorse and then by the equally imposing
blue-skinned figure of Lieutenant Vigo.
Science Officer Jack Crusher was the last to enter and the first to speak. “We’ve run a number of
computer checks, sir, and the message was indeed from the Gorn. It originated from the dead center of
Gorn space, and the rendezvous coordinates will place us a short distance from the conjectured position
of the Gorn homeworld.”
Picard felt the excitement rise in his face.The possibilities .
“It would seem,” he said, “the Gorn are very serious in their overture—which means we could become
the first Federation citizens to see their world.”
Weapons Officer Vigo frowned. “They are certainly serious, but not necessarily friendly. After all, we
don’t know what they want.”
Most of the others nodded in agreement, Picard among them. “True, Mr. Vigo, but we can guess. Mr.
Crusher?”
Jack Crusher stood and walked toward the conference-room viewscreen, where Captain Kirk was
facing the Gorn in a still image. With his characteristic half smile, Crusher began, “Captain James T.
Kirk’s encounter with the Gorn nearly seventy-five years ago is well documented, up to a point. In what
is commonly known as the Cestus Three massacre and officially known as the Cestus Three incident, the
Gorn attacked an innocent Federation outpost.
“TheU.S.S. Enterprise NCC-1701 then engaged the Gorn, but the fighting was stopped by a powerful
alien race called the Metrons, who arranged for Captain Kirk to face the Gorn captain in single combat.
Of course, we don’t know what Kirk’s solution was, but we do know that he saved his ship. We also
know he came to an arrangement that spared the Gorn ship as well.
“At that time the Gorn had technology and weaponry roughly equivalent to Starfleet’s—phasers,
comparable warp drive, and so on—and the Gorn ship was a fair match for theEnterprise of the day.
But I’m not telling you anything that you didn’t learn in the Academy.”
Crusher gave an uncharacteristic frown. “And three-quarters of a century later, most of what we know
or can deduce about the Gorn is still based on these records from theEnterprise . After that encounter,
the Federation ceded Cestus Three to the Gorn, recognizing that it resided in Gorn space. Then the
Federation and the Gorn negotiated a border via subspace communications. Since that time, the Gorn
have declined repeated efforts to establish formal diplomatic or trade relations. What contact we’ve had
has been through neutral free traders who tend to operate on the fringes of Federation space.”
First Officer Ben Zoma gave the Gorn on the viewscreen a cool appraisal. “They have offered a
meeting, and I don’t want to ignore the historic implications here, but I recommend caution. They could
be hiding something.”
Vigo nodded his agreement. “They could be preparing for another encounter, something that will give
them an advantage over us.”
Dr. Greyhorse shifted his large body in his chair and raised his deep, resonant voice. “Could they be
afraid?”
Crusher shrugged. “Maybe they’re merely keeping to themselves. We simply don’t have enough
information to make an informed guess.” Crusher returned Picard’s steady gaze. “I’m sorry, sir.”
Picard waved off the apology. “What do we know about the Gorn themselves, Jack?”
Crusher took a moment to gather his thoughts. “They are obviously reptilian, closely resembling Earth
crocodilians and lizards. They’re what we used to call cold-blooded. Lacking a mammal’s internal
thermostat and the need to maintain a constant temperature, their bodies require less fuel and are almost
certainly able to survive in harsh climates with little available food and water. And of course, they have a
high degree of intelligence.”
“And they’re highly aggressive,” Vigo volunteered. “After all, their first contact with the Federation was
the attack on Cestus Three.”
“True,” Crusher allowed. He manipulated the viewscreen controls, and an image of a Gorn appeared.
“Following a reptilian model, it stands to reason that the Gorn are very territorial. They also appear to
move slowly for a sentient species, and slower reptiles tend to have an immediate fight response. They
did claim that the attack on Cestus Three was a defensive measure, which is why, ultimately, the base
was ceded to the Gorn.”
Picard gestured for Crusher to sit. “Excellent insights, which we will have to bear in mind.”
“Unfortunate that we don’t know more,” Ben Zoma sighed.
“Certainly,” Picard replied. “But I doubt we will ever have all the information we need or would like. For
now, we can think the best of the Gorn initiative and hope that they will not disappoint us.” Picard
anticipated Vigo’s response. “Though we shall proceed with caution and take every possible precaution
to ensure our own safety—so that we are able to report our findings back to Starfleet.”
Picard leveled his eyes at Ben Zoma. “Prepare a landing party that includes representatives of all of the
sciences, and a full security team. We may very well be witnessing history here, gentlemen. These days
will both test and define us. For now, all we can do is keep our best foot forward when we meet our
hosts.”
Seventeen hours later, Picard was on the bridge when theStargazer reached the Gorn’s coordinates.
“Coming into visual range, sir,” the ensign at communications announced.
The captain was out of his chair before he gave his order. “On screen, full magnification.” The oblong
shape of the Gorn ship appeared on the forward viewer.
Picard’s next comment was addressed to the bridge crew at large. “We are privileged to be the first
Starfleet crew to see a Gorn starship. No other vessel has come this close.”
“Full sensor scan, sir?” Crusher asked without taking his eyes off the screen.
“Absolutely not, Mr. Crusher. They might find a full scan invasive. Passive sensors only.”
Quiet ruled the bridge for the next few moments as the crew watched the growing image of the Gorn
ship. It had two nacelles, which Picard recognized as typical of most warp-capable spacefaring races.
The Gorn’s nacelles were forward-swept on the underside of the vessel—the most graceful feature of a
ship that was fairly stark, with hard angles.
We are the first, Picard thought, with the mixture of pride and gratitude that had characterized so much
of his Starfleet career. The first to see this ship. And we will be the first to know these beings.
Ben Zoma was the first to break the silence. “She won’t win any prizes for beauty.”
“For that matter, neither will we,” Jack chimed in.
Picard smiled and let the comment pass.
“The Gorn are raising shields; sir,” Crusher said, his voice carrying the concern that Picard felt as well.
“Shields, Captain?” Vigo asked from the weapons console.
“No,” Picard said without hesitation. “We will take no provocative action.”
“Their phaser banks are on-line, sir,” Crusher added. And then before Picard could respond: “They’re
discharging.”
Two greenish beams leapt out from the underside of the Gorn ship. From the angle of the beams, Picard
could tell that they would strike the main hull. An instant later, he felt a subtle vibration through the deck
of his ship. Strange, he mused. By rights, a full-power shot should have shaken them much harder, even if
the Gorn hadn’t upgraded their weapons at all in the seventy-five years since their last encounter with the
Federation.
“Mr. Vigo, shields up. Mr. Crusher, calculate the power of that shot, double it and feed the data to the
weapons console. Mr. Vigo, fire now.”
The phasers leapt from theEnterprise and caught the Gorn ship aft, striking the vessel’s shields and
creating a brilliant display.
“Return fire?” Picard asked.
“None, sir,” Vigo replied.
“Damage?”
“None, sir,” Jack Crusher replied. “Their shot was a very low power discharge, and ours was easily
deflected by their shields.”
“We are being hailed, sir,” the communications officer announced.
“On screen,” Picard ordered.
As near as Picard could tell, the same Gorn as before snapped onto the screen.
The lizard-being spoke first. “Captain Picard, your challenge has been well met. Now we wish to meet
withyou .”
The Gorn seemed to be waiting for a response. The translator didn’t relate any tension in his voice,
nothing to indicate that their two ships had just exchanged fire.
Picard took a step closer to the screen. “You honor us with this opportunity to know your people. I
would like to prepare a team and meet with you as soon as possible.”
The Gorn’s face was nearly unreadable. “No, we would like to meet with you alone.”
Picard felt the tension on the bridge go back up a notch. He kept his voice measured. “It is our custom
to meet unfamiliar races with a small number of individuals trained in different disciplines. It helps us to
better communicate our diversity, and to better understand a new people.”
The Gorn’s face remained impassive, but its voice went up a notch in volume. “For the purposes of this
meeting, others will be unnecessary. You may transport to our ship in exactly one of your hours. We will
take you to a place for the meeting. Stand by to receive coordinates.”
“Acknowledged,” Picard said, as the viewscreen went blank.
Ben Zoma was at his captain’s side in a moment. His voice was an insistent whisper, his dark brows
meeting over the bridge of his nose.
“Captain, I hope you are not considering going over alone.”
Picard sighed inwardly as he stepped toward the turbolift. Ben Zoma followed him.
“Number One, I understand your concern, but it seems that the Gorn have left us with little choice.”
Stepping inside the lift, Ben Zoma continued without a pause. “Sir, I can’t sanction this sort of action.
Besides the obvious danger to yourself, having you in the hands of the Gorn places the entire Federation
at risk. We don’t know their intentions are peaceful—”
Picard dismissed the concern with a wave of his hand.
“Sir,” Ben Zoma went on, “there is precedent here. In our first encounter with the Gorn, they launched a
sneak attack on one of our outposts.”
“Starfleet Command ruled that they acted in self-defense,” the captain countered.
The color rose in Ben Zoma’s cheeks, and Picard could hear the arguments forming in his exec’s mind,
even before he voiced them. “And maybe they did, sir, and maybe their motives are pure here. All I’m
saying is that we need to be sure before we allow anyone as important as a starship commander to meet
with them alone.”
Picard had already considered everything Ben Zoma had said. There was a risk, but the potential
benefits were enormous. The Gorn could have destroyed theStargazer when her shields were down if
hostility was their sole intent. No, he wouldn’t let concerns over his personal safety destroy this
opportunity. When he spoke, his voice was firm.
“Commander, I intend to comply with the Gorn’s request. I feel we must seize this opportunity. I will not
be responsible for allowing another seventy-five years to pass before we make contact with these people
again.”
Picard saw Ben Zoma forming his final pitch. “Captain—”
“Gilaad,” Picard interrupted, “I will take every possible precaution to ensure my own safety. That will
have to be enough.”
The turbolift doors opened to his deck. “For the moment,” he continued, “I will be making preparations
in my quarters. You have the conn.”
As Picard stepped into the corridor, he made a silent vow that he would not allow his next exec to
mollycoddle him as Gilaad Ben Zoma did.
Jack Crusher waited for a moment until he heard the captain’s invitation. “Come,” Picard said, and
Crusher entered his commander’s sparsely decorated quarters. One of the few ornaments was an artist’s
rendering of theStargazer , with her awkward four-nacelle design.No, she’ll never win any beauty
prizes , Jack thought. The only other notable decoration was a large volume of the collected works of
Shakespeare that the captain displayed on his desk.
“Status?” Picard asked, from behind that same desk.
“We’ve left warp and we’re following the Gorn escort ship to the fourth planet of the Vontalimar system,
sir.”
“Is it the Gorn homeworld?”
Crusher shook his head. “I don’t think so. Only a few million life-form readings in just two population
centers. My guess is that we’re headed toward one of their colony worlds.”
“Any additional messages?”
“Not since we encountered the escort ship and they made their . . . request.” Jack thought over the
speech he’d planned to make again and then abandoned his prepared statement. “I don’t like it, sir.”
The captain raised an eyebrow in interest.
“The Gorn are an unknown quantity,” Crusher explained. “For the record, I don’t approve of you
meeting with them on your own. They’ve given us no agenda for the meeting, not even a list of
demands—except that they would like to speak to you alone, in person. I suggest that we treat this
meeting like a first contact, which is not far from the truth, with a full security and cultural contact team.”
In a single, economical movement, Picard was out of his seat and standing to face his friend. “The Gorn
representatives have asked to speak to me by myself, Jack. They were very clear on that issue. I suspect
that if we don’t meet the only request that they have made of us, we will be risking any potential rewards
the meeting might bring.”
The captain’s tone was resolute, though his eyes registered concern over Jack’s reservations. Crusher
felt compelled to play his last card, though he suspected he knew what the outcome would be. “Sir, we
don’t know that there will be any rewards at all.”
Picard favored his officer with one of his rare, wide grins. “But we do, Jack. We’ve already seen
something that no Starfleet vessel has seen in over seventy-five years—a Gorn starship. And this time,
we haven’t tried to destroy each other. I’d say we’ve already done remarkably well for ourselves.
Beyond that, we don’t have any idea what possibilities a face-to-face meeting might bring. Truly, anything
can happen.”
“That’s what scares me,” Crusher said—but couldn’t help punctuating it with a grin. The captain’s
enthusiasm was infectious. Nevertheless, Jack tried to keep his expression neutral. “I’d like to encourage
you to take as few risks as possible out there, sir. And don’t hesitate to push the panic button. We’ll be
there as soon as we can.”
Picard patted the younger man on the back as he walked him to the door. “I will keep that in mind.”
Jack left the captain’s quarters no less concerned over Picard’s safety, but for the first time excited
about the prospects of the meeting. He entered the turbolift with two thoughts. First, he had just been
“handled” by his captain—and handled well. Second, he’d never had a chance in the galaxy of changing
Jean-Luc Picard’s mind.
When the turbolift doors opened, Captain Picard was pleased to see that his senior officers had
assembled to see him off. Ben Zoma, in particular, looked remarkably relaxed. No doubt he had
accepted the logic of Picard’s decision.
“Captain, we’d like to wish you luck. Our thoughts go with you,” the exec said.
He’s almost cheerful, thought Picard. Maybe Jack has spoken to him. The captain kept the surprise out
of his voice. “Thank you, Number One.” Then he swept a grateful glance over the rest of his crew. “And
all of you as well.”
Picard stepped up to the transporter pad and turned around to face his officers, giving a faint nod to the
transporter chief. “Energize.”
Crusher was moving before the order left the captain’s lips. As Picard heard the hum of the first few
moments of the transporter cycle, he watched as his friend rushed to the pad, stopped directly in front of
him, and attached a phaser to the captain’s hip.
The last thing Picard saw before the transporter took him was Crusher’s smile.
I’ll have to reprimand him when I return to the ship, Picard thought. Ben Zoma as well, no doubt.
Then the Gorn ship solidified around him. Unlike the harsh lines of the hull, inside the ship was all
rounded edges and smooth, burnished metal surfaces, some silver and some dull gold. Forms of
aluminum and copper, Picard guessed.
The Gorn themselves looked very impressive up close. There were three of them. The largest stood a
full two heads taller than the captain, and Picard recognized him as the one who had communicated with
theStargazer over the viewscreen. His reptilian features were blunt and on a larger scale than his smaller
companions. He was also the same greenish color as the Gorn captain who had battled Kirk, while the
others had large stretches of reds and browns mixed into their “skin.”
They were all dressed the same, in subtle variations of a one-piece metallic tunic.
Looking at the Gorn, Picard didn’t feel any of the revulsion he had expected. Instead, he felt nothing but
anticipation. Another benefit of the Academy simulations, he supposed.
The leader hissed and sputtered to one of his companions in their native language. One of the smaller
Gorn reached for his belt and what looked like a sidearm. Picard was suddenly very aware of the phaser
at his own side, and reaffirmed his resolve to have a serious talk with Jack Crusher.
The smaller lizard-being was now holding a cylinder that was perhaps the width of Picard’s thumb and
about fifteen centimeters long. The Gorn stepped up to Picard and handed the device to him.
Picard took hold of the cylinder, relieved that it wasn’t a weapon. The device immediately translated the
Gorn’s next words.
“Captain,” the Gorn said. “Welcome to our ship.”
Ben Zoma finally stopped pacing and forced himself to sit in the command chair. “Mr. Crusher . . .
status?”
Jack Crusher looked up from his monitor at the science station. “Gorn shields are up at full strength. I’m
also getting a reading on the captain.”
“Does he still have the phaser?” Ben Zoma knew that Picard wouldn’t be happy about their little “gift”
when he returned, but the first officer was prepared for his wrath—as long as the captain did return.
“Yes, sir,” replied Crusher. “I’m getting a clear lock on the iridium patch. As long as he has the phaser,
we’ll be able to trace him anywhere in the sector.”
Ben Zoma fell silent, only to be interrupted by the lieutenant at communications. “We’re being hailed, sir.
It’s the captain. I have visual.”
“On screen, Lieutenant.”
Picard appeared on the viewscreen, and Ben Zoma could immediately feel the mood on the bridge
lighten. Their captain was safe.
“Captain,” the first officer said.
“Number One. My hosts have asked me to accompany them on a short voyage, and I have agreed.”
“May I suggest theStargazer as an escort, sir?”
Picard actually smiled. “Not this time, Gilaad.”
Ben Zoma looked carefully at his captain. The man didn’t seem to be acting under duress, but his first
officer needed to be sure. “’The air bites shrewdly; it is very cold,’” Ben Zoma said, making the
statement a question.
Picard answered without hesitation. “‘It is a nipping and an eager air.’”—That was the proper coded
response they’d agreed on, and the captain even punctuated hisHamlet with a subtle grin. All was indeed
well.
“When can we expect you back, sir?” the first officer asked.
“My hosts inform me that I will be returned in no more than thirty-six hours.”
Ben Zoma nodded. “We will be waiting, sir.”
“Excellent, Number One. Picard out.”
“Maintaining a lock on the phaser, sir,” Crusher said. “The captain still has it with him. We can track him
anywhere.”
“Well, that’s something,” Ben Zoma muttered.Picard seems certain that everything’s in order. I
should have had nothing to worry about .
Still, he shifted uncomfortably in the command chair. Gilaad Ben Zoma couldn’t figure exactly why, but
something about this mission still made him damned nervous.
Several hours later, Picard found himself staring at the walls of the small quarters he had been assigned
by the largest Gorn—in the human’s estimate, the captain of the ship.
From the beginning, the captain had noticed what at first seemed like extreme formality in the
lizard-being’s speech and movements.
It was as if the Gorn were trying very hard to mimic human protocol. Picard grunted. Perhaps it should
have encouraged him that his host was trying to make him comfortable. But for reasons he couldn’t
explain, the Gorn’s effort ‘to do everything “right” simply made him uneasy.
His musings were interrupted by a low-pitched buzzing that gradually filled the room. He was half out of
bed when the Gorn captain and two other officers he recognized unceremoniously entered his quarters.
His host gave the human an exaggerated nod and said, “Captain Picard, we have reached our
destination. Please accompany us.”
Picard was on his feet an instant later, following the Gorn through the ship. They quickly reached the
vessel’s transporter chamber. Picard noted that the device didn’t have individual pads but a contiguous
floor panel. Following the others, he took a random spot on the panel.
His instinct was to turn around to face the transporter operator, or rather operators, since it seemed to
take three to operate the transporter. But Picard quickly saw that the Gorn captain and the others didn’t
turn around. Instead they merely continued to face the room’s far wall.
The small difference in transporter protocol reminded the human that he was dealing with an alien race
about which he knew virtually nothing. Up until now, they had tried to communicate with him on more or
less human terms. But soon, Picard suspected, he would be meeting them on theirs.
The transporter took them—and an instant later, a large chamber coalesced around them. A high, stone
wall, framed by the same metal forms he had seen on the ship.
摘要：

ForIsaacandJack—M.J.F.ForPaullina,NatashaandMisha—K.R.PrologueStardate:16175.4EarthCalendarDate:2345(Twenty-fiveYearsAgo)THELIFTDOORSOPENEDandCaptainPicardenteredthebridge.Crusher,henoted,wasalreadyathispost.“Goodmorning,Captain,”Crusherofferedcheerfully.“Goodmorning,Jack,”Picardreplied,watchingasth...

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