Read Star Trek: The Next Generation: Starfleet Academy #6: Mystery of the Missing Crew Online
Authors: Michael Jan Friedman
As Data made his way down the corridor, Sinna was right behind him—despite her apparent misgivings. It only took a few strides before he reached the bend.
Craning his neck to see around it, he studied the being that the aliens had transported onto the
Yosemite
. No, he realized—not a being, but an artificial construct, like himself.
Except this was a much more primitive construct, made of slick, dark metal that barely reflected the light. It had three obviously mechanical arms and three equally mechanical legs, with a globelike head and a short, hourglass-shaped torso.
And its purpose, if the weaponlike attachment at the end of each arm was any indication, was to destroy anything in its way.
Data had only a fraction of a second to make all these observations before one of the thing’s arms swiveled and sent a seething barrage of crimson energy in his direction. Making use of his android reflexes, he pulled his head back around the corner—narrowly avoiding the blast, which charred and bubbled the tough duranium bulkhead behind him.
Sinna gripped him by his shoulder and looked up into his eyes. “Are you all right?” she asked, her voice shrill with concern for him.
Data nodded. “I am unharmed,” he told her. “However, that may change if we do not retreat—and quickly.”
Taking the Yanna by the hand, the android raced back down the corridor the way they had come. He could hear the artificial intruder giving pursuit, its feet making loud clicking sounds as it came after them.
Judging from the frequency of the sounds and his estimate of the thing’s stride, Data decided that it was nearly as fast as he was. His conclusion was borne out by a glance back over his shoulder—which told him that if he didn’t duck in less than a second, both he and Sinna would be blackened husks.
Darting sideways and pulling his companion after him, the android saw another of the invader’s energy beams flash down the corridor and strike the bulkhead at the end of it. As before, it left a blistered, black spot on the duranium surface.
Careening the other way, Data avoided yet another deadly beam, which seared a second spot on the distant bulkhead. Then, spying a turn in the corridor just ahead, he headed for it. Sinna kept up as best she could.
“We can’t just keep running,” she told him, her voice taut with fear. “Eventually, it’ll catch up with us.”
“I agree,” said the android. “We need to go on the offensive.”
But how? They had neither phasers nor anything else that might be used as a weapon. They would have to find something that was not
designed
to be a weapon, then—and use it to suit their purpose.
Abruptly a plan formed in Data’s positronic brain. If they had access to a transporter room, they might be able to beam the alien constructs out into space.
“Bridge,” he called out as he ran, “I need to reach the nearest transporter room. Can you tell me where it is? And where the other invaders are, so we may avoid them?”
This time Lagon’s answer was almost instantaneous. “Heading for a transporter room isn’t a good idea. All three of them are occupied by the—did you call them
invaders
? Does that mean they’re alive after all?”
“Yes,” said Data. “They are alive." At least, by
his
standards.
And there was no time for a more elaborate response, with the construct still chasing them. Apparently, the aliens had anticipated his transporter idea and deployed their forces to preclude it.
As if to remind the android of his peril, the thing in pursuit of them turned a corner and prepared to take another shot. Noting this with a backward glance, Data resorted again to a zigzag course.
It worked nearly as well as before, though this time the energy beams came within inches of their target before blackening the bulkheads. Behind the android, Sinna gasped.
Suddenly Data came up with another idea. At almost the same time, he saw an open turbolift up ahead on his right. If they could make it there and get inside before the construct blasted them, there was a possibility he could disable the thing—and all the other intruders as well.
But first, he had to reach the turbolift. Weaving back and forth across the corridor, the android did his best not to be predictable. If the construct saw a pattern in Data’s maneuvers, it would anticipate his next move and destroy him.
To Sinna’s credit, she didn’t cry out or utter a word of despair. She simply hung on to the android’s hand and gritted her teeth, her eyes wide with all the emotions she was doing her best to contain.
Not much farther, Data assured himself as a bolt of devastating force sizzled so close to his ear he thought it might have hit him. A moment later, as his neural net scanned for damage, he realized that the beam had missed. However, the construct was consistently coming closer now, despite the android’s best efforts.
Putting his head down and running for all he was worth, Data headed straight for the open lift. He could hear the clicking of their pursuer’s feet as they negotiated the length of the corridor, matching the android’s progress. He could see the soot-black char marks appear on the bulkheads ahead of him as he struggled not to become one of them.
Finally Data came within just a few meters of the lift. By then, he realized, the construct might have recognized his destination. For safety’s sake, he pretended to reach for the spot—and then drew back, just, as the thing in back of them unleashed another volley.
The energy burst cut a black furrow into the duranium surface just shy of the lift—but both the android and the Yanna were unscathed. Quickly, before the construct could fire again, he took an angle and dived into the opening.
As he and Sinna collapsed in a tangle of arms and legs, he barked out two words: “Deck Three.”
Immediately the doors to the compartment began to close—though not as rapidly as Data would have liked. If the invader caught them in the turbolift compartment, there would be no way to avoid its deadly blasts.
No sooner had he considered this possibility than he saw one of the construct’s dark, metallic arms slide into view—a weapon on the end of it. As the android watched, helpless, he saw the thing take aim at them through the ever-diminishing space between the doors.
When the barrel of the weapon was pointed right at Data’s forehead, it tired. However, the resulting energy blast came just a split-second too late. The doors completed their movement and shut tight, protecting the android and his companion from harm.
But even then, they weren’t completely out of the woods. As they watched, the invader’s destructive beam caused the doors to ripple and bubble along their vertical seal. No doubt, the concentrated energy would eventually eat through the tough duranium.
Fortunately, the lift compartment chose that moment to begin its descent, in response to Data’s command. As it moved in the direction of Deck Three, all evidence of the invader’s barrage was left behind. They were safe—at least for the time being.
Disentangling himself from Sinna, the android helped her to her feet. “Are you all right?” he asked.
She nodded gratefully. “Fine … I guess. Where are we going, anyway?”
Before Data could answer, the turbolift stopped and the doors opened. Taking the Yanna’s hand, he led her out onto Deck Three.
“There is an auxiliary control center nearby,” he explained, as they turned right and progressed along a curving corridor. “It will give us direct access to all the ship’s life support functions.”
Sinna looked at him. “Life support? But that invader-thing didn’t look as if it needed air to breathe … or heat to stay warm, for that matter. And it can probably operate in the dark. So how are we going to stop it by making changes in life support?”
“Life support encompasses more than just air, heat, and light,” the android reminded her.
But before he could say any more, he caught sight of the entrance to the auxiliary control center at the end of a short corridor. With his goal in view he pulled his companion along even more quickly. After all, there was no knowing whether another of the artificial intruders was converging on the same destination.
As they approached the control center, the doors parted for them with a soft
whoosh
. Once inside, Data looked around—and spotted the console he had come here for. It wasn’t very difficult, considering it was the largest and most complicated one in the room.
It had an internal sensor grid just above it—a cross-section of the
Yosemite
rendered in luminous green lines. Once he located each of the intruders at a glance, the android told himself, he could then use the grid to follow their progress.
“I still don’t understand,” Sinna remarked. “What else is there to life support besides air, heat, and light?”
“Gravity,” he said simply, continuing to size up the equipment in front of him.
“Gravity?” she echoed.
Data nodded. “As you know, most Starfleet ships operate at one hundred percent of Earth-normal gravity. I intend to substantially
increase
that level of force on a selective basis throughout the
Yosemite
—and thereby render the invader units unable to move or function.”
Then, having provided Sinna with all the information he considered necessary, he turned his complete attention to his task.
Captain Thorsson himself had shown the android how to work a sensor board, so it wasn’t much of a challenge to determine the invaders’ positions. There were six of them in all, it seemed.
By the time he was finished, they were each represented by a red dot on the bright-green grid. One invader in each of the
Yosemite
’s transporter rooms, as Lagon had informed them. Another outside the turbolift on Deck Two—still blasting away at the lift doors, perhaps. Yet another on Deck One, guarding the engine room.
And one on Deck Three—making its way toward them. Fortunately, it was all the way at the other end of the ship, or Data would have had to reconsider his plan.
With the intruders targeted, the next step was to release the
Yosemite
from its preset shipwide gravity lock. Manipulating the controls, the android got rid of the lock in short order. Then he gave the computer its instructions—saying them out loud for Sinna’s benefit.
“Increase artificial gravity,” he announced, “to one thousand percent Earth-normal on Deck Five, sections seven … seventeen … and twenty-four.”
That would cover the invaders in the transporter rooms.
“Implement the same increase on Deck Two, section six … Deck One, section thirty … and Deck Three, section nine.”
That would take care of the three others.
But as the computer worked to carry out Data’s orders, he saw that his scheme would not work out as smoothly as he had hoped. It must have shown in his expression, because his companion put her hand on his shoulder.
“What’s wrong?” asked Sinna.
The android glanced at her. “The
Yosemite
is a much older ship than the
Tripoli
,” he explained. “On the
Tripoli
it would have been possible to apply an increased gravity field to all of the invaders at once. Here, my orders will have to be carried out in sequence. In other words, the fields can only be set up one by one.”
Her brow creased with concern. “Does that mean it won’t work?”
Data shook his head. “Not necessarily. It simply means it will work more slowly. And only in the sequence I gave the computer.”
Sinna looked at him. “That shouldn’t make a difference … as long as we get them all in the end. Right?”
“Correct,” he responded. “However, our inability to control sequencing may
prevent
us from getting them all.”
He turned back to the internal sensor grid and its six red dots. Only one was moving; he pointed to it, following its motion with his finger.
“This,” he said, “is the last intruder on Deck Three. It is approaching us at a rapid pace—having detected our presence here, though I am not sure how.” He slid his finger to a spot partway between the red dot and their current position. “I intend to establish a gravity trap
here
—a juncture it cannot help but pass on its way to us.”
“But there’s no guarantee the trap will be set up in time to catch the thing,” Sinna concluded.
“No guarantee at all,” the android confirmed.