STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION - "TEMPTATION" ----------------------------------------------- by Rory Johnston ------------------ (Originally written for the Warp One covention in 1993) --------------------------------------------------------- Daimon Greb of the Ferengi grinned weakly, inwardly contemplating the vast profits he would make from his current business deal. Even now, thought Greb, my ships are moving quietly out of orbit, heavily laden with those undistinguished but oh so valuable containers. Profit... Wealth... Power... "Set course for Temak V." "Course laid in, Daimon," replied the young helmsman. "Execute, high warp," ordered Greb, as the ships leapt into the stars. "Communications," summoned Greb, "Take down this message, and transmit it to my brother." "Yes, sir." "Message reads: Dear Brother, deal initiated, fleet now travelling at high warp, rendezvous as planned. Let's hope your friends co-operate as promised. Greb," he dictated gleefully. "Daimon, sensors indicate an unidentified nebula in our path," observed the helmsman. "So?" questioned Greb, clearly annoyed at being informed of such a trivial matter, "Then plot a course around it." "But Daimon," countered the helmsman, coming close to insubordination by answering back to a command in anything other than a mindless affirmative, "sensors indicate that the nebula is heavily laced with gold particles." "How much gold?" snapped Greb greedily. "The nebula is a just under seventy percent gold." "Could we mine it... purify it?" Greb turned to his chief engineer, "Well?" he asked eagerly. "It could be done, but we don't have the storage space to take more than--" "Yes, yes," snapped Greb, "Do I look stupid?" Luckily nobody answered. A broad smile spread across his face as he considered the even greater opportunity which now presented itself. "Open Cargo Bay doors, prepare to jettison the cargo!" "But!" "Do it!", shouted Greb, overruling the engineer in rank and volume. "Engineer, prepare to start mining that gold." ordered Greb decisively. Captain's Log, Stardate 45758.8: The Enterprise has been ordered to investigate the disappearance of two Ferengi ships inside Federation territory. To assist in our enquiries, and no doubt to keep a check on us, the Ferengi have sent their Ambassador, Mordek. Starfleet Command have placed a high priority on this mission as relations between the Federation and the Ferengi are tense at the moment, and diplomatic ties could be hanging on the success of this mission. There have also been rumours of a Ferengi/Romulan alliance, and with the Ferengi becoming increasingly troublesome, Starfleet wants the Enterprise to be extremely cautious. Captain Jean-Luc Picard leaned back in his Ready-Room chair, only half aware of the Tigerfish swimming to and fro in their tank. "Deanna," asked Picard, turning to look into the rich, deep eyes of the Enterprise's half Betazoid, half human counselor, "can't you tell me anything about Mordek?" "Captain," replied Deanna, "although I can't read the Ferengi's thoughts or sense his emotions, his body language is very instructive. He is anxious, worried, which is quite natural, those are Ferengi ships that have gone missing, but... well, I think there's something else. He is hiding something." "Okay counselor," said Picard, wondering what the Ferengi could possibly be hiding "That`s all too plausible, the Ferengi are a naturally devious race." Turning off his desk terminal he stood up, and straightening his uniform, strode toward the door. He exited confidently onto the bridge, halting abruptly as Ambassador Mordek appeared from the turbolift. Mordek was a short, well-upholstered, pig-faced Ferengi. His appearance gave an illusion of weakness, but with a high-pitched aristocratic squeal of a voice, he was more than capable of making his presence felt. Picard tried his best ambassadorial smile, failing miserably as the fat Ferengi snorted and in his irritating nasal whine demanded to know when the Enterprise would arrive at the site of the disappearances. "We are travelling at warp eight, Ambassador," replied Picard, "we will be there in a few minutes." "Hmmph, good," snorted Mordek truculently, looking Picard up and down in a way that made the hairs on the back of Picard's neck stand on end, as he turned and walked to the centre of the bridge. Back in the Captain's chair, Picard felt his confidence returning. Still, could be worse, he though, Lwaxana Troi could be on board! Picard cringed inwardly at the thought of Deanna Troi's mother. "Report, Mr. Data," ordered Jean-Luc. "Sensors report that there is nothing of interest in the immediate vicinity except an uncharted nebula, Sir," reported Data, bringing up the image of the nebula on the viewscreen. Analysis of the nebula reveals that it consists of twenty eight percent dilithium hydroxiles, sixty nine percent gold and three percent titanium oxides. Our sensors cannot penetrate further." "Gold, eh?", squeaked Mordek, suddenly becoming interested. Picard slouched lower into the big chair. "The ships could be inside," suggested Deanna Troi, concentrating hard, "I can sense some form of... er... presence. It could be the Ferengi... I... I'm not sure." Picard came to a decision, "Lieutenant Worf, raise shields. Mr. Data, ahead one quarter impulse. Let's see what's in there." The Enterprise slid smoothly into the nebula. "We've been searching for two hours, if they're here they don't want to be found," said Riker, shaking his head at the monitor by his side. "Well Number One, I--" started Picard. "Captain, massive energy flux! Sensors overloading," interrupted Data. "Red Alert!", snapped Picard, grabbing the arms of his chair as the ship shook violently, "Shields up!" "Aye, Sir." "Reverse course, full impulse," shouted the captain over the wails of the klaxon. "Status, Mr. Worf." "Captain, shields overloading... shields have failed," reported Worf grimly. Then all hell broke loose. The entire bridge crew were propelled two metres off the deck, and stayed there. The Klingon was the only crew member who wasn't free-floating, he was still at his post, gripping the rail. "Environmental reports ship-wide gravity failure... stabilizing," reported Worf, tapping away furiously at the console, legs flailing in the air. Gravity returned to normal with a loud thud, as the bridge crew hit the deck. Rubbing his head, Riker untangled himself from Deanna, and anchored himself firmly in his seat. "Damage report," said Will, tapping his communicator, "Geordi, how's Engineering?" "Oh, we're fine, but the ship's in real trouble," came back Lieutenant Commander LaForge's voice. "Let's hear it, Geordi," requested Riker apprehensively. "Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you," offered Geordi, "As far as I can tell we've got severe damage to the warp drive and secondary hull." "Impulse?" asked Picard, now fully recovered. "Sorry," replied Geordi, "but only one impulse engine has any residual functionality, and that one isn't powerful enough to get the Enterprise anywhere for the time being." "Estimated time to repair?" enquired the captain, hoping the damage was more superficial than it sounded and that he wasn't going to be stuck on the same ship as that nauseous Ferengi any longer than necessary. "The warp drive will need starbase facilities, and impulse, well, I might be able to give us some limited manoeuvrability in, say, three days." "Three days! That's hopeless, what about shields?" demanded Riker anxiously. "Commander, we're lucky to be here in one piece, we've got minimal shielding. We just haven't got the power." "Get working on it, Mr LaForge, Picard out." he said, terminating the connection with engineering. "Captain, we have a problem," came Worf's deep bass growl, "The Enterprise is being dragged further into the nebula by some kind of tractor beam. With our present energy reserves we cannot break free, and with our shields at their present distribution we will break up in approximately twenty-one minutes." "Suggestions?" asked Picard, turning to his officers. "We would need to reduce the surface area of our shields by fifty three point two percent in order to free enough energy to increase the power of the shields," calculated Data. "Data, what about saucer separation?" asked Riker. Data turned back over his console. "Yes, Commander, we could successfully leave the saucer behind, giving us enough power for the stardrive shields. The tractor beam appears to be focussed on the stardrive, so the saucer could escape." "Right," said Picard, turning to Will, "Number One, take the saucer, head for Starbase 12 and advise Starfleet of our situation." "But Captain," protested Riker, not wanting to desert his captain and colleagues, "that won't achieve anything, I-" "Not now Number One, it's the best of very few options," Picard activated the intra-ship communications; "All hands, this is the Captain. Civilian and non-essential personnel will report to the saucer section. Separation will take place in five minutes. This is not a drill, repeat, this is not a drill. Picard out." "Mr. Worf, Data, Geordi, you're with me," said Picard as he walked towards the Battle Bridge turbolift, "Number One, prepare for separated flight mode." "Aye, Sir," replied Will, as the turbolift closed. "Docking latches retracting... Auto Sep. completed," reported Riker from the main bridge, as the two great hulks that made up the Enterprise became separate ships, "We are ready to reverse thrust on your mark." "Mr. Worf, lower shields," ordered the captain, bracing for the inevitable turbulence. The Stardrive section continued on its non-voluntary journey forward, while the saucer section, with the bulk of the ship's crew, retreated out of the grasp of the tractor beam. "Raise shields," commanded Picard, gripping the armrests of his chair. "Shields have reformed, allowing for the decreased surface area. Shields now sufficient to protect us," stated Worf. "Sir, sensors are reading increased tachyon and electromagnetic deposits," reported Data, "We appear to be being pulled into some kind of wormhole." Propelled by an unknown force, the Enterprise was swept turbulently through the wormhole towards an unknown destination. "Sir, all forward momentum has stopped," said Data, studying the readouts with interest. "We appear to have been deposited in an unknown sector of space, occupied only by two Ferengi ships, scattered debris and several large asteroids. "Scanning the Ferengi vessels: no life signs, no active subspace fields or power readings of any description. They are Ferengi cargo ships, Marauder type. Their cargo decks are laden with gold, and small amounts of machine parts. The floating debris is also machine parts. Analysis of the metal alloys used in the parts indicates that they are Romulan, probably parts for a cloaking system." "Knowing the motivations of the Ferengi, they probably dumped the Romulan parts when they saw the gold," speculated Geordi. "Well, well, well, it seems the rumors of a Romulan/Ferengi alliance are true, but now we know about it, what can we do about it?" commented Picard. "Sir!" exclaimed Worf, "There is a shuttle leaving Bay One. It is a cargo shuttle, type nine-A. Sensor scan reveals one life-form aboard, a Ferengi male." "Mordek," sighed Picard, "he should be on the saucer. Open hailing frequencies." "Open." "Mordek, this is Captain Picard. Please return to the Enterprise immediately." "No response, Captain. We do not even have enough power for a tractor beam." "Keep hailing the shuttle, Mr Worf." "Response coming in now from the shuttle, Captain. On screen." Ambassador Mordek's fat face sneered several times larger than life on the main viewscreen. "What do you want, Picard?", asked Mordek indignantly. "Well, first of all," began Picard, as he leaned back into the reassuring firmness of the command chair, "I would like to know why the Ferengi ships have Romulan machinery on board. I would also like to know why you have stolen a Federation shuttlecraft." "Captain," replied the Ferengi with an air of pained superiority. "I would have thought it was obvious why we have Romulan parts. But it seems you don't possess the mental skills of the Ferengi." Thank God for that, thought Picard, "Does a Romulan/Ferengi alliance ring any bells perhaps, Mordek?", asked Picard nonchalantly. "Clever, human, but no. A Romulan/Mordek alliance, these two ships were commanded by my brothers. It was simple enough to use the Federation trade routes to ferry the parts that the Romulans wanted." So this is what its all about then, greed. A thing the Ferengi have in abundance, realised Picard, his mind racing for a way out of this sticky situation. Mordek severed the link with Picard, falling back into the soft fabric of the pilot's seat. Out of the view-port he could see the Enterprise, or rather half of it, getting smaller and smaller as he guided the craft towards the freighters. You did well my brother, a more worthy cause than the Romulans. Gold, gold, tonnes and tonnes of it. Even though there is more gold on the ships than the shuttle could carry, I would do well enough from the small quantity the shuttle could hold. At least two million credits, enough to buy a seat on the Ferengi council, or retire to a pleasure world, or even both. If I don't get enough money the first time, I can always come back again later. Mordek was still busy fantasizing about buying a substantial slice of the galaxy when a lustrous cloud loomed into view, its deadly intentions hidden in a swirling mass of gold. "Captain, a large cloud has engulfed the shuttlecraft!" reported Worf, "Our sensors are being reflected from the surface of the cloud." "Mr. LaForge," said Picard, turning to Geordi, who had taken position at the Engineering panel on the Battle Bridge, "do we have any options?" "Sorry Captain, no active propulsion systems, short range sensors only, transporter is functional but we can't beam anything in or out of the cloud." "Cloud is moving away, at a warp velocity of nine point nine," added Data. "Scan the shuttle." "No life signs, no energy readings," Worf read the sensor readings off the panel with disgust, careful to hide it from his voice. The shuttle had been sucked dry, of energy and of life. The conference room was still, Picard, Worf and Geordi all sat expectantly, looking at Data. The android stood by the main screen, which was showing a schematic of the wormhole. "I have surmised that the cloud which killed Ambassador Mordek, and presumably all the lives on the Ferengi ships, is a living entity. It inhabits this area of space, which appears to be some form of warp in the normal fabric of the universe and feeds off passing life forms from the galaxy dragged in via the wormhole. The ships have all been drained of energy by the creature, so it is logical to assume that the creature finds its prey by detecting energy emissions." "So why didn't the creature attack us?" asked Geordi. "Presumably, as our energy levels are so low, the creature did not sense our energy emissions." "And the shuttle?" queried Picard. "Shuttlecraft power and environmental systems are self-contained," Data explained, "Consequently, I presume that they were shielded from the energy burst which hit the Enterprise and their energy levels were not depleted. As a result, the shuttlecraft's energy emissions were high enough to be detected when it left the protection of the Enterprise." "How do we escape?" asked Worf, wondering why Data didn't just get to the point. "It is logical to assume that the `aggressive wormhole' and this area of space are under the control of the entity. So if we were to destroy the entity, it would cause the wormhole and this part of space which it has created to disappear, leaving us back in normal space." "Data, our mission is to seek out new life," reminded Picard, "Isn't there some way we could communicate with his entity, reason with it, persuade it to release us?" "Unlikely, Sir. Judging from its actions so far, the creature is either incapable of structured thought, acting on instinct alone, or has only hostile intentions. Communicating would probably be useless, or more likely dangerous to us." "Nevertheless Data, I would prefer we made at least some attempt to communicate," resolved Picard. "How do we destroy the creature?" countered Worf. "My calculations suggest that we would need a matter/anti-matter reaction of some magnitude to be certain. Anything less would just be absorbed; we can have only one shot." "So phasers and photon torpedo spreads would be useless. What about using the main deflector dish, like we did against the Borg?" "We no longer have the power to produce a concentrated burst of power in that way," answered Data, remembering the Enterprise's last encounter with the Borg. Silence fell over the room, everyone was thinking. "Data," exclaimed Geordi, "you said a matter/antimatter explosion. Can't we do just that?" "Yes," replied Data, wondering why he hadn't thought of it, "assuming the creature is matter, all we have to do is make it come into contact with enough anti-matter." "We could use a shuttle," suggested Worf, adding "It seems to like those." "I could set up a containment field on the shuttle," said Geordi, the formulae forming in his head, "take the shuttle out on remote control. Then when the creature comes along and drains the shuttle of power, the field will collapse and BANG!" explained Geordi, supplementing his description with exaggerated hand movements. The creature will be killing itself, thought Worf, ingenious. "Make it so," concluded Picard reluctantly. The antigrav sled hovered silently on the hangar deck. Geordi's legs hung out of the open hatch of the shuttlepod. "Data, how much anti-matter did you manage to rustle up?" asked Geordi, his face hidden in the innards of the shuttle, busy jerry-rigging a remote control unit. "Rustle up?," asked Data, his head cocked to one side in puzzlement, "I did not know that anti-matter rustled." "No, Data," began Geordi, "it's an expression. It means to find or make." "Oh," replied Data, comprehension spreading across his smooth features, "I rustled zero point three metric tonnes." Geordi sighed, then continued, "What's the minimum distance between us and the shuttle got to be before that cloud goes up in smoke?" "Smoke? I do not think you have a proper grasp of matter/anti-", queried Data again, as he fitted the force field containment units into the shuttle. "No Data, it's just another expression. It means to explode." "Oh, I see," Data cocked his head to one side, "The shuttle must go up in smoke a minimum of one hundred thousand kilometres away." Geordi groaned, realizing that Data would be itching to use his new found phrases again. "Launch shuttle," ordered Picard. "Shuttle launched, anti-matter containment field intact," said Geordi, "Distance from Enterprise is now ten thousand kilometers.. twenty... thirty... forty... fifty... sixty... seventy--" "Cloud approaching," reported Data, "We cannot let it come into contact with the shuttle for at least another thirty thousand kilometers." "Understood," said Jean-Luc, shifting uncomfortably in his chair, unable to decide if it was the circumstances or the less luxurious design of the battle bridge that made him uncomfortable. "Has there been any answer to our hails?" "No, Sir," replied Worf, tensing as the cloud drew closer, ready for battle, "We must stop the cloud from reaching the shuttle." "Very well Mr. Worf. Have we got power for a minimal power phaser burst?" "Yes, but that's all we have got, captain." "Fire at the cloud." "Cloud has changed course to intercept Enterprise," said Data, "one minute thirty-two seconds to minimum safe distance from shuttle. Cloud will reach us in twelve point one seconds." "Brace for impact, boost all power to shields," commanded Picard as the ship shook violently. "Shields being drained," reported Worf gruffly, "...twenty percent... fifteen percent... ten percent--" "Time to minimum safe distance?" enquired Picard, positive he had been waiting at least an hour. "Fifteen seconds left." "Five percent..." droned on Worf. "Mr. LaForge?" asked Picard hopefully. "I'm working on it, Captain." "We are at minimum safe distance." announced Data, "Transmitting signal to shuttle, ordering it to commence firing on cloud. No response. Increasing signal intensity to compensate for inference due to entity." "Status of shields, Mr La Forge?" "I've got the shields holding at four point two percent, captain, but I can't keep it up much longer." "Shuttle has received signal and is firing. No reaction from cloud.... Cloud is moving away, on course towards shuttle. Remote control beam broken," said Data, as the rest of the bridge crew watch the viewscreen with baited breath, "Energy levels aboard shuttle decreasing rapidly. Containment field failing--" A sustained explosion lit up the viewscreen, making everybody except Data, whose visual circuits compensated automatically for the light intensity, turn away from the screen. The force of the explosion generated by the seemingly simple act of bringing matter and anti-matter together demonstrated all too effectively just why it is the principal power generating system fuelling all interstellar starships. As the shuttle and the creature exploded, so the environment which the creature had fashioned around itself vanished. Around the Enterprise, normal space re-appeared. "Sir, the shuttle and the creature have just gone up in smoke," reported Data, deadpan. "Captain, incoming signal from the Enterprise saucer section," reported Worf, recovering quickly. "On screen." Will Riker's bearded face lit up the viewscreen, "Captain, request permission to redock." "Permission granted," smiled back Picard, "Welcome back Number One." The Enterprise, reunited, limped home.