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  #4: Interphase Book 1 by Dayton Ward & Kevin Dilmore

  #5: Interphase Book 2 by Dayton Ward & Kevin Dilmore

  #6: Cold Fusion by Keith R.A. DeCandido

  #7: Invincible Book 1 by David Mack & Keith R.A. DeCandido

  #8: Invincible Book 2 by David Mack & Keith R.A. DeCandido

  #9: The Riddled Post by Aaron Rosenberg

  #10: Gateways Epilogue: Here There Be Monsters by Keith R.A. DeCandido

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  #12: Some Assembly Required by Scott Ciencin & Dan Jolley

  #13: No Surrender by Jeff Mariotte

  #14: Caveat Emptor by Ian Edginton & Mike Collins

  #15: Past Life by Robert Greenberger

  #16: Oaths by Glenn Hauman

  #17: Foundations Book 1 by Dayton Ward & Kevin Dilmore

  #18: Foundations Book 2 by Dayton Ward & Kevin Dilmore

  #19: Foundations Book 3 by Dayton Ward & Kevin Dilmore

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  #21: War Stories Book 1 by Keith R.A. DeCandido

  #22: War Stories Book 2 by Keith R.A. DeCandido

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the authors’ imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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  Chapter

  1

  Stardate 53680.2

  This station is deactivated.

  With a growing sense of dismay, Bart Faulwell watched as the images on display monitors all around the Senuta vessel’s compact command deck were replaced, one after another, with that simple line of text. Repeated alerts from the ship’s computer continued to advise about intruders while enabling its automated defensive countermeasures, which Soloman somehow had activated during his efforts to repair the damage suffered by the onboard systems.

  The same ion storm that had disrupted the ship’s engines had also severely compromised the computer and the Senuta crew’s ability to interact with it. Unable to interface with the ship’s complex network of automated systems, the Senuta had been helpless to do anything as their vessel careened out of control through space until the U.S.S. da Vinci had heard their distress signal.

  Spending several hours working with the alien computer system, Soloman and Faulwell had succeeded in reprogramming several of the damaged processes and had created a simpler means of interacting with the system for the crew, whose computer experts had been killed during the storm. Faulwell had thought their work here completed, until the alarms started blaring and the computer began to shut out all access to the Starfleet engineers.

  Ircoral, one of the Senuta engineers assisting Faulwell and Soloman, turned from her station. “The protocol that has been activated was intended only for use if the crew is incapacitated and the ship has been boarded by enemy invaders.”

  Feeling a ball of ice beginning to form in his gut, Faulwell asked, “So what happens then?”

  “The computer’s instructions are to prevent access to its systems at all costs, to include destroying the ship if necessary.”

  Now why did I know she was going to say that?

  He saw the expressions of horror growing on the faces of Ircoral and her fellow engineer, Tkellan. What could they be thinking right now? The Senuta had already been through a great deal in the past several weeks, he knew, so how much more could they be expected to endure? If the computer carried out its predetermined instructions and destroyed the ship, where would that leave these people, assuming they survived?

  “Faulwell to da Vinci,” he said as he tapped his combadge. “We’ve got a big problem here.”

  The voice of his captain, David Gold, responded. “Da Vinci here. What’s the problem, Faulwell?”

  Casting a worried look at Soloman, who was still engrossed in his attempts to override the computer, Faulwell replied, “We seem to have triggered some kind of booby trap, Captain. The computer is locking down access and has activated a self-destruct protocol.”

  “What?” There was no mistaking the shock in Gold’s voice, something that happened only on rare occasions. Faulwell knew that the captain, like everyone else involved in the effort to assist the Senuta, had believed this to be a rather simple if time-consuming mission with few or no difficulties expected to be encountered. This latest revelation had shattered the peace of what should have been a routine set of tasks for the crew of the da Vinci.

  It’s just not the S.C.E. if something doesn’t go wrong, he reminded himself.

  “Can you override the computer?” Gold asked, his voice having returned to the measured delivery that made the captain the calm in the center of any storm.

  Turning back to Soloman, Faulwell saw that the Bynar had abandoned his attempts to access the computer and was now looking at him with no small amount of worry.

  “I have been locked out of the computer,” the Bynar said as he reached for his tricorder. “There is nothing more I can do.”

  That was most definitely what Faulwell did not want to hear. “Are you saying the ship is going to blow itself up?”

  “That is correct. I suggest we leave as soon as possible.”

  “I heard that, Faulwell,” Gold said over the communicator. “I’ve already got Feliciano preparing to evacuate that ship. How much time do we have?”

  Soloman was working again, holding his tricorder in one hand while the other tapped a few tentative commands to the computer console. “I estimate that we have less than five minutes.”

  “Stand by for beam-out,” Gold ordered. “Sensors are detecting a massive power buildup in the engines. I want to be out of here before she blows.”

  Faulwell nodded at that, though the captain could not see him. “Soloman, it’s time to leave,” he called out to his friend who was still hard at work, seemingly oblivious to everything around him.

  “One moment, Bart,” the Bynar responded. “I am scanning and attempting to record as much information from the computer’s central data banks as time will permit. I will need an additional few minutes to complete the task.”

  It was Faulwell’s turn to be shocked again. “Soloman, I really don’t think we have time for this.”

  “I am reasonably certain that the download will take slightly less time than we have remaining before the engines overload.”

  Reasonably certain? Was that supposed to make him feel better? Looking about the command deck, he tried to remember: How muc
h did they have? How much time had passed? What if Soloman’s estimate was wrong?

  He noticed Ircoral and Tkellan regarding him, their faces masks of concern. “Are we leaving?” Tkellan asked, nervousness evident in her voice. Faulwell did not blame her. After all, it was not as if he wanted to be here, either.

  Nodding to the Senuta engineer, he replied, “Yes, we’re leaving in just a moment.” Looking to Soloman he added, “We are leaving, right?”

  “I’m nearly finished,” the Bynar responded, not looking up from his tricorder.

  “Gold to Faulwell,” the captain’s voice called out again. “Our sensors are saying that the engines are approaching the overload point. Stand by for transport.”

  “Not yet,” Soloman said.

  “What’s that?” Gold asked, his tone suddenly quite frosty. “What does he mean, ‘Not yet’?”

  Rolling his eyes, Faulwell offered a silent plea to any deity who might be paying attention to this particular dark comedy in the making: Please let me live long enough to regret what I’m about to say.

  “Soloman is trying to retrieve as much information from the Senuta computer as he can, sir. He’s almost finished, but he needs a bit more time.”

  He felt an abrupt rumbling beneath his feet, a rattling that shook the deck plates and the bulkheads. The ship shuddered around him, already gripped in the beginning of its death throes.

  “You’re out of time, Faulwell,” Gold said over the communicator. “We’re pulling you out of there right now.”

  Another tremor shook the ship, more violent this time, nearly throwing Faulwell off his feet. He could feel the explosion somewhere beneath him and his mind envisioned the force of the blast tearing through the interior of the ship’s engineering section, ripping it apart as the engines succumbed to the effects of the overload. He reached for a nearby console to retain his balance, seeing as he did so that Soloman and the two Senuta engineers were doing the same thing to avoid being tossed to the deck.

  The first tendrils of a transporter beam reached out for him just as another shock wave enveloped the ship. As he felt his body start to dissolve, an insane thought gripped him: If I survive this, it’ll make a great finish to Anthony’s letter.

  As he rematerialized in the da Vinci’s transporter room and saw the expression on Kieran Duffy’s face, however, Faulwell wondered if he should have just stayed on the Senuta ship.

  Duffy came around from behind the transporter console, where he’d been standing next to Transporter Chief Diego Feliciano. As the latter shut the transporter down, Duffy asked, “Are you all right? The bridge reported that there was some kind of computer problem over there.”

  “You could say that,” Faulwell replied as he looked around him on the transporter platform, relieved to see that Soloman as well as Ircoral and Tkellan had made the transport safely. Turning to Duffy he asked, “Everyone else was evacuated, right?”

  Duffy nodded. “And we went to warp as soon as we had you aboard.” Noticing the expectant yet resigned looks on the faces of Ircoral and Tkellan, his expression turned somber. “The engines reached overload and exploded. Your ship has been destroyed. I’m truly sorry.”

  Ircoral and Tkellan regarded Duffy with horrified expressions. “That means that we are stranded here, with no way to get home,” Ircoral said. “What will we do now?”

  “You’re not stranded,” Faulwell replied, stepping down from the transporter platform and turning to face the Senuta engineers. “We, and Starfleet, will see to it that you and the rest of your crew are returned to your homeworld.”

  Her brow furrowing, Tkellan said, “But without the navigational systems aboard our ship, we will not be able to plot a course to our planet.”

  In response to that, Soloman stepped forward. “I was able to record a great deal of information from your computer’s memory banks, including what I believe to be your navigational databases. If that is the case, then it will allow our navigators to assist in locating your home and determining the most efficient route to get there.”

  Faulwell nodded in agreement. If Soloman had indeed managed to get that information from the Senuta’s onboard computer, then the heart attack the Bynar had nearly given him by demanding to remain on the doomed vessel until the last possible second would be worth it.

  Almost.

  “That is very kind of you,” Ircoral said. “I do not believe that we have ever encountered a race of people so willing to help others in need.” Turning to Soloman, she amended, “Or, as I should have said, races of people.”

  Faulwell smiled reassuringly at her. Seeing Ircoral and Soloman together, he was reminded once again of how similar in physique and demeanor the Senuta were to the Bynars. “It’s like I was telling you before, Ircoral. It’s what we do. I guess that if there’s a positive effect of what’s happened, it’s that you’ll have more time to get to know us better.” His smile faltering a bit, he added, “Besides, it’s the least we can do. It was our trying to help that put you in this situation.”

  An exaggerated coughing sound interrupted him, and he turned to see Duffy looking at him, a mildly amused expression mixed with irritation on his face.

  “Yeah, and about that,” the engineer said with mock annoyance in his voice, “you couldn’t blow up the ship before I spent all day fixing it?”

  Before he could actually say anything, Faulwell’s stomach replied for him, the noises it made echoing softly in the transporter room and causing Duffy’s eyebrows to shoot skyward.

  “Is that all you’ve got to say?” Duffy asked.

  Shrugging, Faulwell replied, “At least until after dinner.” He regretted the flippant words as soon they left his mouth and as he saw the expectant, almost helpless expressions on the faces of Ircoral and Tkellan. They were looking to him, and by extension the rest of the da Vinci crew, for help. This was no time for jokes.

  What the hell are we supposed to do now?

  * * *

  Carol Abramowitz could feel a prize-winning headache coming on.

  “Are ye all right, lass?” Captain Montgomery Scott asked, looking out at her from the conference lounge viewscreen. Hearing the concern in his voice, Abramowitz realized for the first time that she was rubbing her temples, trying without success to relieve the pressure steadily building behind her eyeballs.

  “Abramowitz?” Captain Gold leaned forward in his seat, his expression also one of concern. “Is something wrong?”

  Shaking her head, she replied, “I’m fine, sir. Thank you.” Forcing herself back to the situation at hand, she directed her attention to the padd she had brought with her to the meeting. The text on the unit’s display comprised the sum total of the report she had fashioned, both for Gold and for Captain Scott back at Starfleet Headquarters on Earth. Somehow, she decided, the words themselves were woefully inadequate. No matter what flowery language she used to describe their current situation, it did not change the simple fact: Despite the best of intentions, the actions of the da Vinci’s crew had trapped the Senuta here. Because of that, the Senuta were, at least for the time being, a people without a home.

  However, after conversing with Daltren, the commander of the Senuta ship, Abramowitz had been unable to find any indication that the aliens harbored anything even resembling resentment or bitterness about the situation. During her meetings with the alien ship captain, he had shown nothing but gratitude for the da Vinci crew since first coming aboard. Even faced with the loss of his own vessel, his support for the Starfleet engineers had not wavered.

  “Ensign Wong is continuing his attempts to extrapolate a reverse course to the Senuta homeworld,” she said, reading more of the cold facts from her padd, “based on the route their ship was taking when we answered their distress signal. Additionally, Soloman is searching through the data he downloaded from their computer, looking for their navigational charts. He’s not sure if he managed to retrieve those or not.” Pausing, she winced involuntarily as another spasm stabbed at her brain.


  Having only partially allowed himself to relax in his chair, Gold said, “You look like you could use a breather, Abramowitz, not that I’m surprised. You’ve been working as hard as anyone on this mission, and it shows. This is a sticky situation, but we’d be a lot worse off if not for you.”

  On the viewscreen, Scott added, “Aye, yer captain’s right. I for one am grateful to have ye on the job.”

  Though she was seldom comfortable with compliments directed at her, Abramowitz could not help but smile at the praise these two veteran officers had conferred upon her. She knew from past experience that neither Gold nor Scott offered such accolades lightly, yet that did not stop her from believing she was unworthy of them.

  “I have to admit to feeling a bit out of my depth, sirs,” she said. “I’ve spent years training in a wide variety of subjects that allow me to interact with hundreds of cultures the Federation has encountered. But that’s just it. All of my training and experience revolves around races and cultures we’ve already met. I’m nowhere close to being an expert when it comes to first contact situations.”

  “Dr. Abramowitz,” Scott replied, “in my experience, there’s no such thing as a first contact expert. After all, it’s a mighty rare thing for one first contact to be like another. Life just doesn’t work that way, I’m afraid. The best thing that can be done is to have people like you on hand for such eventualities.”

  Smiling at that, Abramowitz replied, “On any other day, I’d be tempted to argue that point. Truth be told, though, I’m really just too tired right now.” She shrugged. “Sometimes I wonder if I should have just taken that research posting on Memory Alpha.”

  “And deprive us of your talents, to say nothing of your unflappable good nature?” Gold asked, amusement tugging at the corners of his mouth. “That would be criminal in the extreme, I think.”

  Adopting a more serious expression, the da Vinci captain leaned forward in his chair once more, clasping his hands atop the conference table. “Look, Carol, I know you think you’re in over your head, but we all know that this isn’t a normal mission, even by first contact standards. The Senuta have been thrown for a loop to be sure, but they’re confident that we’ll do whatever it takes to get them home. The vast portion of that faith is due to you.”