Star Trek The Original Series - 70 - Best Destiny by Star Trek

Author:Star Trek
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Science Fiction
ISBN: 9780671795887
Publisher: Pocket
Published: 1992-01-02T08:00:00+00:00

TWENTY

“They’re launching something!”

“You’re spacesick. That’s a research cutter. How can they have anything to launch?”

“You come and see for yourself, then.”

Big Rex took a long time to hoist himself from his seat and appear at Lou Caskie’s side and shove him away so they could both see the secondary screen. The crackly main viewer in front of the corn mand station was now showing only a corner of the Starfleet ship, enough to prove it was still being pulled along behind them. The little viewer, clearer than the main one, showed a little blue and silver tube slowly moving on its own. Big Rex squinted at the frosty screen. “Maybe it’s another SOS buoy. Split the main screen and stick it up there.”

Caskie swore at his controls as he pecked and pulled at them. The main screen fizzed, flashed, then divided to show a poor view of the ejected tube over the partial view of the cutter. “How big is it?” Roy craned his neck and called from where he was feverishly trying to restore their shields. Caskie shrugged his knobby shoulders. “Size of a coffin.”

“Oh, that’s all,” Big Rex said. “They’re giving themselves a funeral!”

Laughter rolled around the dark helm area. Behind Big Rex and Caskie, the Andorian engineer and a handful of the crew from below decks had come up to watch the win-a kind of tradition among thieves-and now they laughed and shook each other’s hands. Big Rex’s body wobbled like a pile of water balloons as he chuckled his way back to his command seat. Behind them all, Roy hunkered at the deflector auxiliary, tight-lipped with sequestered rage. Progressive stupidity had allowed them to damage their prize, and now he had to get the shields back before they could go into the Blue Zone and finish wrecking it. Just to survive. That was all they’d get out of this one. If these fools had listened to him, they’d have hulled the Starfleet cutter in several small places with a surgical laser, let the crew die, then collected their “salvage.” Instead, the morons were laughing and backslapping each other and celebrating a disaster as though they’d won something. But this. Th. Pushing his moment of control further and further into the future, just as he had drawn it to his fingertips. Keep the goal in mind. Do whatever it requires. Tolerate anyone. He felt the future ticking. This Starfleet cutter must have been a supply ship for Faramond. Nobody would come out here just to look at a couple of stars immolating each other. They were going to poke around Faramond with the rest of those archaeological bughunters. They thought they were just looking for artifacts and small cultural revelations from an old civilization. How long before one of the fools found out what he had found out? A race against time and chance, but a race that he could run just so fast. Maybe a year. Maybe six months. Everyone would get out of his way.

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