viewscreen. “That thing wasn’t here five minutes ago, sir.”
“Then where the hell did it come from?” Mbugua asked from where he stood at the bridge railing, looking up at Blair and Sutherland.
Her attention attracted by an indicator light flashing on her console, Sutherland turned and once more peered into the workstation’s hooded sensor viewer. “Okay, this is starting to get annoying.” When she looked away from the console, a frown clouded her features. “Sensors have just detected
another
buoy, seventeen million kilometers from our present position, toward the system’s outer boundary.”
Not liking the implication of what he was hearing, Blair said, “And you’re sure it wasn’t there before, just like this other one?”
“Absolutely, sir,” the science officer replied. “Sensor logs show no record of it.”
From behind Blair at the communications station, Ensign Ravi-shankar Sabapathy said, “Captain, the second buoy is now transmitting its own signal.”
Blair gestured to Sutherland. “Feed those coordinates to the helm,” he said as he stepped down into the command well and moved to the center seat. “T’Lehr, take us there, safest speed.”
“Aye, sir,” replied Lieutenant T’Lehr, and the Vulcan began inputting the appropriate instructions to the helm console.
Settling into his chair, Blair said, “Sutherland, let’s have a full-spectrum sensor sweep of the system. Give me everything you’ve got.”
From where he still stood at the railing near Sutherland’s station, Mbugua said, “What are you thinking, sir?”
“That somebody’s screwing with us,” Blair replied as he again used his towel to wipe his face. It was a gut call, nothing more, but an instinctual feeling he had learned long ago not to dismiss out of hand.
Mbugua frowned. “We’re a long way from Romulan space, if that’s what you’re thinking.” He nodded toward the viewscreen. “The Klingons are just down the block, but cloaking technology doesn’t strike me as their cup of tea.”
“Don’t believe everything you’ve heard or read,” Blair countered. “There are plenty of Klingons in the Empire who’d happily use a cloaking device if they thought it could get them close enough to cut your throat with one of those ceremonial daggers they love so much. That said, a Klingon ship commander wouldn’t play games like this.” Pausing, he shook his head, regarding the image of asteroids sliding past the
Defiant
as the starship made its way through the field. “No, this is something else.” Would a Romulan ship venture so far into enemy territory, even with the ability to shield itself from sensors? Blair held no illusions about such a scenario, provided the vessel’s commander had good reason for such an act.
So, the question—assuming it
is
the Romulans—is: What’s the point of all this?
“Captain!” Sutherland called from her station, and Blair looked up to see the science officer alternating her gaze between her hooded viewer and other screens and readouts at her console. “I think … wait … that’s not right.” When she frowned, Blair was sure he heard the science officer mutter a particularly colorful Andorian oath before she turned to face him. “Sir, I thought sensors registered some kind of spatial distortion, just for a second, but it’s gone now.”
Rising from his seat, Blair moved to the edge of the command well, placing his hands atop the red railing. “What kind of distortion?”
Sutherland shook her head. “I’m not sure, sir. I’ve never seen anything like it, natural or artificial. According to sensor logs, it reads almost like background ionization, but there’s nothing here that couldbe the cause of something like that.” Drawing what Blair took to be a calming breath, she added, “It has to be artificial, sir.”
“Another ship,” Blair said, at almost the exact instant as Mbugua offered an identical declaration. The two men exchanged a knowing
“Then where the hell did it come from?” Mbugua asked from where he stood at the bridge railing, looking up at Blair and Sutherland.
Her attention attracted by an indicator light flashing on her console, Sutherland turned and once more peered into the workstation’s hooded sensor viewer. “Okay, this is starting to get annoying.” When she looked away from the console, a frown clouded her features. “Sensors have just detected
another
buoy, seventeen million kilometers from our present position, toward the system’s outer boundary.”
Not liking the implication of what he was hearing, Blair said, “And you’re sure it wasn’t there before, just like this other one?”
“Absolutely, sir,” the science officer replied. “Sensor logs show no record of it.”
From behind Blair at the communications station, Ensign Ravi-shankar Sabapathy said, “Captain, the second buoy is now transmitting its own signal.”
Blair gestured to Sutherland. “Feed those coordinates to the helm,” he said as he stepped down into the command well and moved to the center seat. “T’Lehr, take us there, safest speed.”
“Aye, sir,” replied Lieutenant T’Lehr, and the Vulcan began inputting the appropriate instructions to the helm console.
Settling into his chair, Blair said, “Sutherland, let’s have a full-spectrum sensor sweep of the system. Give me everything you’ve got.”
From where he still stood at the railing near Sutherland’s station, Mbugua said, “What are you thinking, sir?”
“That somebody’s screwing with us,” Blair replied as he again used his towel to wipe his face. It was a gut call, nothing more, but an instinctual feeling he had learned long ago not to dismiss out of hand.
Mbugua frowned. “We’re a long way from Romulan space, if that’s what you’re thinking.” He nodded toward the viewscreen. “The Klingons are just down the block, but cloaking technology doesn’t strike me as their cup of tea.”
“Don’t believe everything you’ve heard or read,” Blair countered. “There are plenty of Klingons in the Empire who’d happily use a cloaking device if they thought it could get them close enough to cut your throat with one of those ceremonial daggers they love so much. That said, a Klingon ship commander wouldn’t play games like this.” Pausing, he shook his head, regarding the image of asteroids sliding past the
Defiant
as the starship made its way through the field. “No, this is something else.” Would a Romulan ship venture so far into enemy territory, even with the ability to shield itself from sensors? Blair held no illusions about such a scenario, provided the vessel’s commander had good reason for such an act.
So, the question—assuming it
is
the Romulans—is: What’s the point of all this?
“Captain!” Sutherland called from her station, and Blair looked up to see the science officer alternating her gaze between her hooded viewer and other screens and readouts at her console. “I think … wait … that’s not right.” When she frowned, Blair was sure he heard the science officer mutter a particularly colorful Andorian oath before she turned to face him. “Sir, I thought sensors registered some kind of spatial distortion, just for a second, but it’s gone now.”
Rising from his seat, Blair moved to the edge of the command well, placing his hands atop the red railing. “What kind of distortion?”
Sutherland shook her head. “I’m not sure, sir. I’ve never seen anything like it, natural or artificial. According to sensor logs, it reads almost like background ionization, but there’s nothing here that couldbe the cause of something like that.” Drawing what Blair took to be a calming breath, she added, “It has to be artificial, sir.”
“Another ship,” Blair said, at almost the exact instant as Mbugua offered an identical declaration. The two men exchanged a knowing
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