A Weary Life Read online

  Riker was concerned that he’d drive his companions crazy between now and arriving in orbit.

  La Forge and Riker had known each other for years, since their Academy days, and were comfortable in each other’s company. They had certainly endured enough side by side that there were few secrets between them. There rarely were in starships, regardless of their size. He was proud of how La Forge had advanced from flight controller to chief engineer and what a gifted diagnostician he had become. More recently, he watched La Forge faced with the demands from Starfleet that he replace his VISOR with implants or be assigned somewhere remote and presumably less dangerous. They never directly spoke about what the younger man should do, but Riker knew he sought opinions from others, weighed the pros and cons, and made a decision he could live with.

  Fortunately for the starship, he agreed to the operation. Since then, it took a little time to adjust to seeing his entire dark-skinned face and metallic implants where normal eye color belonged, but Riker was getting used to it. It was a new look and a more mature one that the first officer approved of.

  Their companion, currently in the rear seat, was one he was still getting to know. Sure, he had days ago completed a probationary review, but Riker and Daniels were each learning how the other liked to operate. They hadn’t spent much time together off duty, beyond some group sessions in Ten-Forward. While Riker preferred to play his trombone with a holodeck orchestra or poker with his closest friends, he hadn’t made an effort to include Daniels. Now that they sat in the shuttle together, he wished it were otherwise.

  No time like the present to correct matters.

  “Pádraig, do you play cards?”

  La Forge let out a pained sound. “Commander, you don’t expect to play cards the next five days, do you?”

  “What’s the matter, Geordi?”

  “Last time we played, I wound up pulling gamma-shift bridge duty for a week.”

  “You don’t want a little revenge for that winning streak?”

  “I still swear the cards were marked.”

  “With your eyes and Data’s positronic processors, don’t you think if I was cheating one of you would have caught me?”

  At that, Daniels let out a laugh. “Sure, deal me in. What’s your poison?”

  As Riker replicated a deck of cards and stack of chips, La Forge switched the controls to automatic pilot, a safe thing to do given the stretch of void they were traveling through. Daniels set up the table they used for meals and repair work. Within minutes, they were seated and Riker let the tactical officer deal first.

  “So, Pádraig, does the Enterprise feel like home yet?”

  “Nope and it never will, Commander.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Home is wherever Siobhan is, and right now that’s back on Canopus.”

  “Can’t argue with that, Commander,” La Forge said as he studied his cards. “We bachelors have no frame of reference for such an anchor.”

  “What does she do?”

  “Siobhan’s an artist, a very good one, too,” Daniels said, the pride clear in his tone.

  “I thought you were the artist in the family,” Riker said with some surprise.

  “Nope, she’s the better one of us. I paint, sure, but it’s just something we have in common. She works with children who have emotional problems, uses art to help them come to grips. To me it’s a good hobby.”

  “Working on anything now?”

  “Something different, actually. I’ll take two,” Daniels announced, sliding two cards facedown toward the stack of cards to his left. “I’m trying a starscape. After all this time out here, I woke up the other day feeling inspired.”

  “Must be nice, finding inspiration like that,” La Forge said.

  “Nothing like it, sir,” Daniels said.

  “Please, it’s Geordi. Especially when it’s just us three in this shuttle for a week or two.”

  “Kings and deuces,” Daniels said, reaching for the chips.

  “Beginner’s luck,” Riker muttered with a grin. He flipped his busted hand onto the table.

  Daniels slid the deck to La Forge, who began shuffling. “So tell me, Commander, what do you think of the new duty uniforms?”

  Riker tugged at the collar, squared his shoulders, testing the new black and gray outfit. The color denoting division had been substantially reduced and the materials used seemed a little heavier. “Not bad.”

  “I still like the old ones,” La Forge grumped.

  “I actually logged an hour in the holodeck with this,” Daniels offered. “I went through one of the training courses to see how it breathed. Not bad, to be honest. It’ll do.”

  “Not that we have a choice,” La Forge added, tossing down two cards.

  Daniels picked up only one card and stared intently at his hand. “I even think they’re more stain resistant than the last set. Should be easier on you in the kitchen, Commander.”

  He knew Riker liked to cook. Interesting. That Daniels knew more about him than he did about the tactical officer surprised Riker. Definitely someone he needed to know better.

  The conversation continued and the cards were played and the shuttle sliced through the space between planets. Time slipped by as they consumed coffee and tea, told jokes, swapped Starfleet Academy experiences, and tried not to think about the many unknowns of the mission nearing them at an incredible speed.

  Riker tried to sleep in the back of the shuttlecraft as Daniels wrote out his fourth letter to his wife. La Forge was very impressed that not only was he keeping a promise made years before, but that he was using the traditional pen-and-paper method for communication. At first, Daniels laughed at it, indicating it was an opportunity to practice his penmanship, but clearly there was more to it than that.

  La Forge never really liked his own penmanship, something he didn’t care about as he grew up, coping with his augmented vision thanks to the VISOR technology that brought his world to life. He envied Daniels for having someone special, someone worth making the effort for.

  Those thoughts were interrupted when a telltale winked to life to the pilot’s right. In an instant, data streamed across a screen above the signal light, and a moment after that, Daniels was leaning over his shoulder. Nice reflexes, La Forge mused.

  “Proximity alert shows an unregistered vessel about one million kilometers away,” La Forge noted.

  “I recognize the configuration,” Daniels added. “It’s one used by the Maquis.”

  “Good eyes.”

  “Actually, good briefing,” he admitted, earning him a chuckle. “I’ll wake the commander.”

  La Forge nodded and then ran a navigation program to allow him to get close without being picked up by the inferior sensor technology the rogue ship possessed. He then accessed the communications array and began scanning known Maquis frequencies, seeking any sense a second ship might be out there.

  “How far from Salva II are we?” Riker asked as he came forward. La Forge noted it didn’t look like Riker slept well. There were black smudges under his eyes, and with his hair askew, he looked more haggard than rested.

  “About five hours,” La Forge said. “Lately the planet’s been used more for dropoffs and resupplying than any sort of base.”

  “You’ve been reading the same reports, I see,” Daniels noted.

  “Can’t let you have all the facts,” La Forge said.

  “Makes you cocky.”

  “I see you’ve been talking to Siobhan, too,” the security chief said.

  “Can it,” Riker said. His tone was tense, and he slid into the seat beside La Forge and reviewed the sensor details. He studied the course the shuttle was following and seemed to accept it.

  “Nothing on the comm channels,” La Forge said to break the tension.

  “Keep scanning. That thing is just sitting there, waiting. You’re right; it doesn’t seem interested in the planet.”

  Riker fell silent, and La Forge took the moment to study the first offic
er. Of course he understood what Riker was feeling without fully understanding those feelings himself. He wanted to stand by his old friend and offer support but also recognized that this was the sort of thing Riker would keep bottled up and discuss only with Troi. Once more he was wistful that even Riker had someone close to confide in. This was most certainly something he wanted to address but seemed not to have the right solution in his tool kit.

  “I’ve got something faint on sensors,” Daniels said from an auxiliary station. Daniels had tasked the station to become a miniature tactical command post. The man was good, and La Forge was thankful to have someone so levelheaded along for the ride. Just in case.

  “A different vessel, also unregistered. Different configuration and leaking neutrinos from its warp engine. That’ll make them easy to trace.”

  “Geordi, look for comm traffic,” Riker ordered, never taking his eyes off his own data screens.

  With his left hand, La Forge began scanning the routine frequencies. He also tried a few other bands that the Maquis might have tried, away from the frequencies Starfleet ships used. Since they hadn’t been detected, it was likely the Maquis would chat without making much effort to hide the signals. Sure enough, one ship contacted the other and La Forge boosted the gain on the shuttle’s receivers, quietly tapping the signal.

  When the conversation ended, La Forge glanced at his friend. Riker seemed to visibly relax, assured that he wasn’t going to hear his own voice haunt him like a specter.

  “They’re going to rendezvous and hand over supplies in an hour. Can we trail them without being seen?”

  “Aye, Commander,” La Forge said. “Sounds like they want to land and make repairs, so we can leisurely follow them in.”

  “I don’t think so,” Daniels called, his tone carrying a warning. “I’ve got multiple signatures coming out of warp. All Cardassian.”

  “Damn.” Riker’s hands flew across the shuttle controls. So much for apprehending the technology and the Maquis. “Where?”

  “Coming in from Dorvan. All five are fighters. They’ve slowed to impulse, shields up,” Daniels said.

  La Forge recalled that the fighters, while tough, were the smallest of the Cardassians’ ships. Still, even if the Anaximenes allied itself with the Maquis, that was five against three, and he wasn’t enjoying the odds.

  “Commander, I’ve scanned the Maquis ships and they seem to have standard phasers only,” Daniels said.

  “Those things are faster than the Maquis,” La Forge added. “We’re outnumbered and likely outgunned.”

  “Is this something we should be involved in?” Daniels asked, and La Forge looked over to see Riker’s reaction. The commander sat still, studying the readouts, his poker face in place. “You’d better decide soon, sir, they’re opening fire.”

  Twin spiral-wave disruptors ripped the void between the Cardassians and the smaller, ill-equipped ships. Both veered off in opposite directions, one slipping down the z-axis while the other seemed ready to hightail directly for the Salva system. Neither ship moved with much grace or speed, making them both easy targets. Sure enough, two more ships unleashed their disruptors.

  Both Maquis ships were clipped, sending them off course. La Forge studied his sensor screens and reported that both were damaged but functional. That would likely change rapidly if the Cardassians improved their aim.

  Riker stared ahead, watching out the main viewscreen. He seemed to be evaluating the situation, and then La Forge saw his eyes narrow. A decision had been reached.

  “Mr. Daniels, charge our own phasers. Raise shields. Geordi, get us between them.”

  “Aye, sir,” both men echoed and then set to work. La Forge heard the whine of phasers coming on line, and the sound was good, reassuring.

  “Commander, what justification will you offer the Cardassians if they ask?” Daniels wondered aloud.

  “The Cardassian ships have violated the treaties by entering the DMZ without notice,” Riker said flatly.

  “That’ll hold for now. Geordi, engage.”

  With the familiar order, La Forge moved the shuttle forward. While he was a well-rated pilot, Riker was better, and he wondered why Riker wasn’t doing the actual flying. He had to table those thoughts as he focused on the actual flying of the Anaximenes. The shuttle was a fast craft, sleek and built for speed and maneuverability in addition to being capable of handling space or planetary environs.

  He arced the shuttle to arrive on sensor screens as if it came out of the blue, confusing it for a moment. Once the Cardassians translated the transponder and learned it was a Starfleet ship, they were likely to get rough and try to obliterate the shuttle first.

  “I wish we had time to stop at DS9 and collect Worf and the Defiant first,” La Forge muttered.

  “We can do this,” Riker said with authority and confidence. La Forge pushed the vessel into the space between the opposing forces and was pleased the Maquis weren’t firing on them too. The lead Cardassian vessel was already taking shots at them, but La Forge was being totally random in the flight path so they couldn’t anticipate his location. He was also modulating the Anaximenes’s speed, thwarting easy anticipation of where they could safely fire.

  “Daniels, we want to cripple, not destroy. Fire at will,” Riker said.

  “Aye, sir.” The shuttle spit out ruby red phaser beams, most of which glanced off the fighters’ shielding.

  La Forge forced the shuttle into a barrel roll and away from the approaching enemy ships. “You do know we’re outgunned, right?”

  “I have an idea,” Riker said, and a familiar twinkle appeared in his eye, something that gave La Forge sudden confidence in their survival. “Look for antilepton interference keeping us from summoning reinforcements.”

  “A standard Cardassian tactic,” Daniels noted.

  “Right, so we use that against them,” Riker said.

  La Forge frowned in concentration, then snapped his fingers and grinned. “A produced vector quarkonium.”

  “A what?” Daniels asked.

  La Forge continued, addressing Riker. “The resonant energy produced by the combined spin state of the leptons and antileptons is going to release a vast amount of energy. That should pretty much fry anything in the vicinity.”

  “Daniels, keep firing. Geordi, I’ll take the helm. Try to send a quick signal to the Maquis and have them scatter. Then get to work.”

  La Forge nodded and sent the signal before moving farther back in the ship to access the engineering controls.

  “You sure this will work?”

  Riker actually smiled at Daniels’s skepticism. “Once they get near the neutrinos, while still spreading the antileptons, we’ll release a burst of lepton radiation from the warp engine and neutralize them, blinding their sensors long enough to let us escape.”

  “Nice thinking,” he said with actual admiration.

  “Pat me on the back later; let’s get this done,” Riker said, and La Forge sensed the urgency and concern over the untried tactic. He and Daniels set to work without chatter, and after a very long two minutes, all was in readiness.

  “The Maquis ships are hightailing it,” La Forge said, breaking the silence.

  “Is the package ready?”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “Daniels, cease fire and engage.”

  The invisible leptons emitted from the shuttle and did their job, charging the space that was already suffused with antileptons and neutrinos, overloading the Cardassian scanners as the quintet of ships moved toward the shuttle.

  Riker seemed to hold his breath. The moment the sensors indicated they had slowed down, even a fraction, his right hand shoved the thrusters to their maximum and the shuttle did an about-face that tested the inertial dampers.

  None of the Cardassian ships fired as the shuttle rocketed toward the Salva system, following the Maquis.

  “Nice work, Commander,” La Forge said.

  “I estimate three minutes before they can begin using their se
nsors,” Daniels said.

  “Good enough,” Riker said. “Now, let’s find our friends.”

  CHAPTER

  3

  It took under half a minute to lock on to the neutrino emissions from one of the vessels, and then they located both ships, which were seeking safety in numbers. Riker could feel the tension ebb from his muscles as he piloted the Anaximenes toward the interior of the Salva system. Its Class-G sun hosted eight worlds, double that number in moons, and an asteroid belt—all perfectly unremarkable.

  As they cruised along, gaining distance from the Cardassians that were still a threat, Riker reviewed his decisions. He began by being thankful that he forced himself to brush up on Cardassian and Maquis tactics between games of cards. That proved to be the reason he managed to conjure up an escape. Otherwise, he feared they’d be destroyed or, worse, captured, and he’d find himself on Lazon II alongside his twin.

  Regardless of how often he tried to force thoughts of Tom from his mind and focus on the mission, his brother continued to materialize. At least he was conscious of this, aware of what it all meant, and he didn’t need a counselor to tell him the same thing.

  “The Maquis ships seem headed for the second moon around Salva IV,” Daniels said.

  “What do we know about the moon?”

  “Airless, gravity about seventy percent that of Earth-normal, a pile of rocks and lots of craters.”

  “Well, I’m not happy there’s no fishing,” Riker said, forcing a lighter tone to his voice. He was in command and had to set the pace and tenor of the mission. He suspected Daniels knew little of the personal issues that complicated the mission for the commander. As a result, he wanted to keep things on the surface.