Star Trek TNG - 14 Exiles by Howard Weinstein

Author:Howard Weinstein [Howard Weinstein]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Star Trek Fiction, Science Fiction
ISBN: 9780671705602
Publisher: Star Trek
Published: 2014-01-25T16:00:00+00:00

When he opened his eyes, Will Riker was more than a little surprised—first, to be alive and conscious, feeling no ill effects other than a monumental throbbing inside his skull; and second, to find that the shuttlecraft was apparently no longer in motion.

He was less surprised, actually not surprised at all, to find his first sight to be the concerned face of Lieutenant Commander Data, hovering maternally over him, illuminated only by the shuttle’s red emergency lights.

“Well, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” Riker said, his throat dry and raspy. He winced and leaned forward in the seat, rubbing the back of his neck. “Make that a sore head.”

“Are you all right, Commander?” Data had the medi-kit diagnostic probe poised in one hand, the medical tricorder in the other.

“You tell me.”

Data ran a quick scan, concentrating at Riker’s forehead. “Brain activity appears to have resumed normal patterns.”

At the reference to brain activity, Riker’s expression clouded. “Why? Was it abnormal before?”

“Do you remember blacking out, sir?”

Riker had to think hard for a second. “Yes, I do.”

“That is good. It indicates retention of last memories and suggests that there is no loss of function.” As he spoke, Holzrichter and Lopez stirred back to life. Data stepped over to repeat the precautionary scans. “After you lapsed into unconsciousness, you all had critical reductions in brainwave activity, far greater than in normal sleep or even biostasis.”

“Sounds serious,” said Lopez, her voice groggy.

“It was,” said Data. “I did not know when or if you would recover, and I was apprehensive about possible permanent damage. But there is none, at least none detectable by this basic medical equipment.”

Riker got to his feet, swaying on rubbery knees and bracing himself with a hand on the seatback until his dizziness subsided a few moments later. He moved over to Navirra, who was just coming around. “Ambassador.” Her eyelids fluttered, but failed to open. He leaned close to her ear. “Ambassador, can you hear me?”

“Of course I can, Mr. Riker,” she rumbled, her eyes still closed. Finally they opened, blinking to restore some semblance of focus. “Pleased to see you, as well, though I’d appreciate a less intimate view.”

Riker straightened up. “Your wit remains intact, Ambassador.”

“It’s usually the first part of me to wake up,” the old Etolosan said as she gingerly tested her stiff joints. “Might I ask where we are?”

“My question, too,” said Riker, directing his attention to Data. “Did you stay conscious the entire time we were out? Which reminds me, how long were we out?”

“Two hours, forty-two minutes. And yes, I did remain conscious, though I had a few momentary dysfunctional lapses. And we are inside a vessel.”

They all stared at Data. “We’re what?” said Riker.

“Inside a vessel—a very large vessel at that.”

Riker stumbled up to the nearest viewport to take a look. Data was right. The shuttle and its occupants were indeed inside what seemed to be a dimly lit cargo bay, considerably larger than the Enterprise’s own hangar deck.

“When you say ‘very large

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