Star Trek: Deep Space Nine - 065 - Force and Motion by Jeffrey Lang

Author:Jeffrey Lang
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Video Game Adaptations, Science Fiction & Fantasy, TV, Space Opera, Alien Invasion, Star Trek, United States, Science Fiction, Adventure, Movie, Military, First Contact, Literature & Fiction
ISBN: 9781501110788
Publisher: Pocket Books
Published: 2016-05-30T07:00:00+00:00

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“What do you figure the mass of the Wren is?” the chief asked as he removed the foam padding from the thruster pack. Nog was certain O’Brien already knew the answer and was simply making idle chatter.

“With passengers? Forty thousand kilos,” Nog said. “Forty-five, tops.”

“What’s this thing rated?” O’Brien shifted his shoulders inside the suit. It was a one-size-fits-all model, and the intelligent material was expanding and contracting around the chief’s limbs and torso, seeking an optimum configuration.

“It’s a type four,” Nog recited. “Meant to be used to shift cargo in low-g environments. I’ve seen them used to tow small barges.” He concluded, “It should work. Maybe. Assuming you can find a spot on the Wren to attach a tow cable.”

“I don’t want to get too close.” He hefted the harpoon gun. “What’s the range on this?”

Nog wanted to grind his teeth. Again, he had no doubt the chief knew the answer, but the question-and-answer session must be helping somehow. “One hundred meters maximum. You’ll only get one shot that way, but you won’t need more than one. The Wren is a big target. Also, I would recommend you use the epoxy tip. The magnetic grapple might tear a hole in the hull if it’s been compromised.”

“Good thinking,” O’Brien said, and adjusted the settings on the launcher accordingly.

Every Academy cadet, especially those aiming toward an engineering degree, spent hours wearing thruster packs, though usually in the relatively safe environs of a spacedock. Heading out into open space was another matter. “When was the last time you used one of these?” Nog asked.

The chief answered, “When we were building the station. Didn’t I?” He tugged on the gauntlets, then cycled through the diagnostic programs. “You?”

“Inspection tours,” Nog said.

“Right. Help me with this,” he said, indicating the helmet and yoke assembly. Nog lifted it while O’Brien squatted as low as he could in the snug spacesuit. The helmet slid into the power pack and Nog felt locking mechanisms click into place.

O’Brien straightened and shifted the weight on his back. He spoke, but all Nog heard was a faint murmur. O’Brien touched his thumb to the tip of his forefinger, activating the suit’s pickup. “Why do these things always smell like someone was storing their old socks in them?”

Nog shrugged. He liked the way spacesuits smelled.

“Give me a once-over,” O’Brien said as he slowly turned. Nog checked seams and connections while the suit’s diagnostics ran one more check.

“Looks good,” Nog said, and then repeated a question he had asked a couple times. “Are you sure you don’t want to bring a phaser?”

“We’ve been through this,” the chief said. “Anything with that kind of energy signature might draw the Mother. I’d rather not take any chances. Besides, what would I shoot at?”

“Still,” Nog said, but wasn’t able to finish the thought. “It’s your decision. You should be okay for up to four hours. If I’m lucky and find help quickly, I might even be back before you’ve finished towing the Wren back to the station.

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