CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“What do you mean, the Q came to see you?” Adele tried to keep the shock out of her voice as she questioned her executive officer over subspace.
Her day had not improved since the last time they had spoken. Ordi’te’s second-in-command had proved to be even less helpful than Ordi’te himself, cutting off the transmission with a short, “He’s busy. I’ll make him aware of your desire to speak with him.” She hadn’t heard from him yet.
Now, she sat staring in disbelief at her own second-in-command on the ready room desktop display, trying to wrap her mind around what he was telling her. His face looked about as troubled as she had yet seen it.
“I was completing a log entry, and they appeared in the ready room. The younger Q said he wanted to warn me about something, but his father wouldn’t let him. They argued about it and then they left.”
“Warn you? About what?” Adele asked.
“I don’t know. They were every bit as vague as they usually are,” he noted with a weary edge to his voice.
“Usually are? How often do you talk to the Q?” Adele asked, this time not bothering to hide her surprise.
“Junior considers me a friend,” Icheb explained. “It’s a long story. I see him whenever he feels like it, which is more often than I would prefer. Five times over the last eight years,” he clarified, adding, “His father is never far behind; they’re supposed to stay together at all times. The last time I saw them before today was three years ago.”
Adele sighed. She was beginning to feel like this mission was cursed from the start, and she was certainly less than enthused about the potential ramifications of Icheb’s supposed friendship with the Q. She had heard plenty of stories about what had happened to the Enterprise over the years once one of the Q had taken an interest in Captain Picard. She didn’t need the same headaches on her ship, and whatever game the Q were playing at, she was quite sure she wanted no part of it.
She attempted to set aside those thoughts for the moment and focus on the matter at hand. “Did they say anything useful?” she asked.
Icheb recalled the discussion. “The older Q said the human race has gotten involved in something they shouldn’t, and that their decisions will have far-reaching consequences. He said humanity had to learn a lesson. He made it sound like it’s already happening and we’re just about to find out about it. He said I was going to be ‘stuck in the middle’ and that Junior wanted to protect me. He gave me the opportunity to be returned to Brunali -- and I quote -- ‘Before all hell breaks loose.’”
“Well, that certainly doesn’t sound encouraging,” sighed Adele, rubbing her forehead as if she felt a headache coming on. Smiling slightly, she hastened to add, “I assume the fact that you’re talking to me now means you turned his offer down?”
“Yes, Captain,” Icheb replied with a grim smile of his own.
“I’m glad to hear it, Commander.” She sighed again. “I only wish they’d given us more to go on.”
“So do I,” Icheb agreed. His expression grew more serious. “Captain, I think now might be an appropriate time to convene the advisory board.”
Adele winced. She hated to think of the field day Eleanor Gentry would have with Icheb in her absence, especially at the mention of the Q Continuum. “And tell them what, Commander? The Q say something bad is going to happen, but they won’t tell us what it is, or where, or when?”
“It must be significant for Q’s father to have made me the offer that he did.”
“That may be true, but we still don’t have any information to give the advisory board. It seems to me we’d be needlessly causing panic before we even know what the panic is about. Which is pretty much what your all-powerful friends have just done to you and me,” she added wryly. “It’s lovely to know our doom is impending, but I’d be so much happier if we knew where to start looking for it.”
“Perhaps the Tyndorans are more dangerous than you think they are,” Icheb suggested pointedly.
Adele gave him a tired look in return. “If you’re hoping to convince me to turn around, you should know I’m only more determined to see this through. If the Q aren’t talking, maybe the Tyndorans will. Ordi’te has consistently indicated that his government is willing to discuss things as long as it’s on their turf. I have no reason to disbelieve him. And something tells me the non-warning the Q just gave you has a lot more to do with the Borg and the subspace situation than it does with the Tyndorans.” She sighed, and added, “Or maybe it’s totally unrelated to anything we’ve found so far.”
“Or, maybe the Tyndorans are the source of the explosions and subspace damage,” Icheb pointed out.
“Well, if they are, then I’d like to know about it. But the fact that we’re still sitting here talking to each other leads me to believe that they’re not. Otherwise they probably would have blown us up when we first dropped out of slipstream in their space.”
Icheb had to admit she had a point. “Very well,” he said finally. “I’ll wait to consult the advisory board until you’ve spoken with the Tyndorans, but I’m calling a meeting of the senior staff. I want them to be aware of the situation. And if I haven’t heard anything from you by 1200 hours tomorrow, I intend to consult the board.”
“All right,” agreed Adele. “That’s reasonable.”
Icheb appeared hesitant for a moment, then sighed and said, “Captain, be careful. I would strongly prefer my first command to be assigned, not inherited.”
For a split second, Adele looked surprised by the sentiment, but she quickly recovered and gave him an amused half-smile. “We’re in agreement, Number One. Now please get out of my ready room and go take care of my ship and crew.”
“Yes, Captain. Icheb out.”
The display went blank, and Adele rose from her chair, stretching as she did so. She looked at the chronometer. Eleven hours to go.
*****
Three hours later, Admiral Beckley sat in his office, sipping Altairian water and contemplating all that he’d heard since he’d played back the audio files from the captain’s ready room this morning.
The first file had been Commander Icheb’s slightly petulant-sounding log entry. He was worried about the captain and the away team, and apparently wanted it on the record that he had asked them to return to the ship, probably in case they got blown up or held hostage. Typical first officer stuff; the kid was covering his own ass. Perfectly understandable.
The second file had been much more interesting. The transmitter had activated, then an unfamiliar, young-sounding sarcastic male voice said “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s rude to eavesdrop?” and the transmission had been cut off. When it had reactivated several minutes later, there had been some muffled noises coming from outside the room, followed by the sound of the door opening and a few panicked-sounding bridge officers inquiring as to their XO’s safety, claiming intruders had been detected, the doors had been locked and the intercom disabled.
The third file had shed quite a bit of light on the second. If Icheb was to be believed, the Q Continuum had paid the young first officer a personal visit. They brought vague warnings of danger to come, but according to the conversation between Icheb and the captain, no actual intelligence had been shared. Admiral Beckley had no problem believing the ex-drone’s story. He wondered what it meant for the mission, though.
Adele had sounded reluctant to convene the board. The admiral wondered how much of that was due to Eleanor Gentry’s confrontational approach, and how much was due to her obvious discomfort with her inability to read him. When she had been chosen to lead the mission, he had warned his superiors that an empath could be problematic. They had dismissed his concerns, saying she was only a quarter Betazoid and had never undergone any training to improve her natural telepathic abilities. Admiral Beckley remained skeptical.
As the admiral deleted the audio files, he wondered what lay ahead for Adele when she reached the mysterious coordinates her XO was so concerned about. Like the rest of them, he supposed, he would simply have to wait.
******
The senior staff sat assembled in the large conference room on deck eight of the USS Tesseract, looking expectantly at their XO. They had been called away from their duties for an unscheduled briefing, and most of the small group of officers wore expressions of varying levels of impatience.
Once Icheb was sure everyone who wasn’t currently on the Sol was accounted for, he sat down at the head of the long table and started to speak.
“Before this briefing begins, I want to stress to you all that until further notice, nothing I’m about to say can leave this room,” he said seriously. “That’s a direct order. You may not share this with your staff. Understood?”
The group of officers stared back at him in surprised silence. A chorus of “Yes, sirs” and a table full of nodding heads were the only responses.
“Good,” he replied. He took a deep breath. “This morning, two members of the Q Continuum came aboard the Tesseract.” Most of the senior staff looked stunned at this news, but Maren O’Connor looked more irritated than Icheb had seen her since coming aboard, and that was saying something, considering how angry she already was at him. He met her gaze and gave her what he hoped was an understanding look. She really had been upset about Junior’s last visit -- and justifiably so. Clearly, she hadn’t forgiven the Q yet.
Trying not to think anymore about their last encounter with Q Junior, he continued, “One of the Q came to issue a warning, but another Q, his father, prevented him from elaborating and took him back to the Continuum. However, they seemed to indicate the Tesseract is about to encounter serious trouble.” The officers started to exchange concerned glances with one another, and Icheb apologized, “I’m sorry that I don’t have more specific information, but we have to assume the threat is significant if the Q have taken notice. I want you all to be extremely vigilant in your duties. Run more detailed scans, perform more training exercises, make sure all systems are working at peak efficiency. If nothing else, I want this to serve as a warning against complacency.”
At this statement, Iden Nix looked visibly amused. Icheb glanced at her. “Lieutenant?”
She turned a slightly deeper shade of blue at being singled out by the XO, but explained, “I was just thinking that it’s difficult to be complacent when we’re stuck at impulse in a massive field of Borg debris, with our captain two days away from us and heading for an unfamiliar planet, sir.” Her comment was met with a few snickers and murmurs of agreement.
Icheb smiled slightly at the group and clarified, “I'm sorry, I didn’t intend to imply that you had been complacent prior to this point. I just want to ensure we’re as prepared as possible.” Iden nodded.
Icheb continued, “Captain Oyugo is within hours of meeting with the leadership of the Tyndorans, the species we encountered two nights ago. She believes they’ll be able to tell us more about the subspace damage and the destroyed Borg vessels. However, the Tyndorans have been reluctant to share even basic information about their society in advance. As a precaution, I want all of you to prepare for the possibility of a rescue mission. If the away team requests assistance, I want us to be able to respond.” He turned to Maren. “Lieutenant O’Connor, if the away team encounters problems, we're going to have to move significantly faster than we are right now to get to them. I want you to take your best engineering team off the gel pack problem and have them work on reconfiguring the impulse drive to get us as close to light speed as possible.”
Maren blinked in surprise. “Sir, that’s against regulations for very good reasons,” she pointed out.
“So is the captain’s away mission,” Icheb retorted plainly. “We’ll do what’s necessary. I would rather recalibrate our chronometers than lose the captain and the away team. The time dilation effects should be minimal in any case; we’re not that far away.”
“Yes, Commander,” she replied quietly, making a few notes on her PADD.
Icheb returned his gaze to the entire group of senior staff officers. “I want everyone on this ship working at maximum efficiency. You’re all doing an excellent job so far, and I expect that to continue. I'm just asking you to increase your awareness. If you notice anything out of the ordinary, I want to hear about it immediately, even if it seems insignificant.” He looked around at the group again. “Does anyone have any questions?”
One or two officers said “No, sir,” as everyone else shook their heads. As a whole, the group seemed stunned into silence by the mention of the Q and eager to get back to work. Only Maren looked as if she might have something to say, but for the moment, she neither raised her hand nor spoke.
“Then you’re dismissed,” Icheb said, and the senior staff collected their PADDs and other belongings and headed out the door, whispering to one another in hushed tones.
As the others filed out, Maren stood to the side. When they were gone and the door closed, Icheb looked at her questioningly.
“Permission to speak freely, sir?” she asked.
Icheb raised his eyebrows. He wanted to talk to her, but the look on her face gave him pause. She appeared livid, and he suspected he was in for another unpleasant exchange. “Please do,” he said, finally.
Maren got right to the point. “How do you know this isn’t another one of Junior’s stupid pranks?” she demanded angrily. “I wouldn’t put it past him to do something like this just to watch you squirm during your first command.”
“I know he upset you the last time we saw him, but I believe he’s trying to help,” Icheb replied.
“You can’t possibly believe him!” she exclaimed in disbelief.
“Maren, his father was standing right there and offered to return me to Brunali for my own protection. I don’t believe this is a prank.”
“His father is as bad as he is. I don’t buy this ‘upstanding member of the Continuum’ act for a minute. I did a report on the Q my second year at the Academy. You helped me with it, remember? If they have a hobby, it’s messing with us.” Suddenly, she paused and gave Icheb a strange look. “Wait, he offered to send you back to Brunali?”
Icheb nodded.
“As in, the planet where your parents live?” she asked in shock. “How is that doing you a favor?”
“It’s not,” Icheb replied flatly. His tone was so thoroughly matter-of-fact that it brought a tiny smile to Maren’s face, and seeing this, Icheb cracked a smile, too, realizing that it had been quite an understatement.
Maren sighed and leaned against the side of the conference table. She closed her eyes briefly and shook her head. “God, I can’t stand them. The Q, I mean. They always seem to think they’re being so helpful when all they’re really doing is spreading chaos and confusion around the galaxy. Junior gets so much entertainment out of making you suffer, and he never seems to know when to stop. It's like he really thinks he's helping you become better than you are, as opposed to just being a dangerous pest.”
“I don’t think he means to do it, Maren. It’s just who he is.”
“Well, I’ve seen enough of him to know he can’t be trusted, and that he's at his worst when he thinks he's helping you out.” She sighed heavily. “I still think this is a prank, but I agree being prepared is better than not being prepared. I’ll attempt to modify the impulse drive like you asked. I’m not sure we can get enough power to the fusion reactor to accelerate the ship’s mass that quickly, though -- there’s just too much of it to move. I could do it with the Luna easily,” she said, referring to the second Saber-class ship the Tesseract was carrying, “but a ship this big is something else entirely. Normally I’d just reroute power from the warp drive to create a stronger IPS field and reduce the effective mass of the ship, but it’s not safe to initialize the warp drive here, so I’m not sure what I’m going to do. If you have any ideas, I’d love to hear them.”
Icheb thought for a moment. “Have a second team work on the Luna. At least we know that will work.” He hesitated a moment, then suggested, “What about the slipstream drive?”
Maren looked at him oddly. “Same problem. You know better than -- ” she cut herself off when she saw the look on his face. “Oh, no,” she said. “No, no, don’t look at me like that. We’re not doing that. I’d face a court martial for that. That is, if we didn’t all die in the attempt first.”
“Not if it works,” Icheb replied. “And we both know it will. We did the calculations thousands of times.”
“Absolutely not. I’ll find a way to make the impulse drive faster, but I’m not experimenting like that with the slipstream drive, especially in an inhabited star system.”
“It’s unlikely we’ll need to,” Icheb reminded her. “This is a contingency plan. If a positive outcome to the away mission is Plan A, and a rescue mission using the impulse drive is Plan B, then this is -- ”
“Plan C,” Maren finished for him. Anyone could have finished the sentence, as obvious as it was, but something about the familiarity of the action struck them both, and their eyes met. For a moment, it was like nothing had changed in two years, as they exchanged a long look, negotiating silently, each somehow knowing exactly what the other was thinking. Finally, Maren forced herself to look away. “Fine,” she relented, “I’ll write a program for it -- as Plan Z. That way we can stick every other contingency plan we come up with in front of this ridiculous one without having to re-label anything.”
“Thank you,” said Icheb. They both stood awkwardly for a moment, not knowing what to say.
“I should go,” Maren finally said. “It’s going to be another long day.”
Icheb knew better than to try and keep her there, no matter how much he wanted to keep talking to her. This was the most natural conversation they had managed since they had both come aboard, and he didn’t want it to end.
“Of course,” he said, “let me know if you require assistance.”
Maren nodded and walked out of the conference room. Icheb stayed behind for a few moments, gazing out the large window overlooking the recreation deck. Between his worry about the away team and his disturbing encounter with the Q, he was starting to really feel the weight of command. Slowly, he headed back to the bridge.
She's ALMOST there, though! Just a few more hours ...
I can't begin to tell you how encouraging your comments are. Thank you so much for reading and being so generous with the pep talks! I really do value all the great comments you've left regarding the story, too, they're always very thoughtful. 
