Star Trek: Cardassian Galaxy

Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Paramount Studios and the estate of Gene Roddenberry own copyright of all things Star Trek. The original plot is my own as are any characters created specifically for this story. 

'Enterprise, we..der..tack. We require urg..sistance. They came.. nowhere. 'trolling.. Mutara Nebula. Shields.. gone...... More pass and.....' Picard reached out to stop playback of the fragmented recording. He glanced round the table at the familiar ring of faces and their expected expressions. Worf, blood lust high, Klingon pride even now baying for vengeance. Riker, face stern, since the attack on the Hood.. Picard aware suddenly that only Deanna knew what had really happened back there. Deanna herself, grief-stricken for the pointless loss of life, as was Crusher. LaForge, simply angry. 

He turned to the only member of his staff that he knew could be relied on for total objectivity. Even under extreme duress he knew he could rely on Data's objec.. He stopped. 

'Commander?' He waited. 'Why?' the voice grated suddenly. The tone like two slabs of granite scraped over one another. They all stopped and stared at Data. Geordi stepped around the table. 'Data? Are you O.K.?' 

The android shook his head, 'I am sorry. I was experimenting earlier with a variant of the emotion chip Dr. Soong created for me. The experiment was unsuccessful, and I subsequently removed the component. However, it would appear that I need to perform a self-diagnostic to purge my systems of any random data remaining. 

The ship', he continued unabated, 'was the U.S.S. Intrepid, Excelsior class, Starfleet registry, NCC-'' 

'38907. Q'utvatlth!' Worf exploded, 'They will suffer for this dishonourable act!' 

'Mr. Worf', Picard broke icily into the Klingon's vehement rhetoric. Worf settled down still breathing heavily, 'Now, I understand that hearing of the destruction of the ship which rescued you, your parents, and your comrades from the Khitomer outpost is hard to bear. But please allow Commander Data to continue', this last in words of granite, brooked no argument. He turned, at a nod of agreement from Worf, 'Data please continue', and, after eyeing Worf somewhat warily, Data completed his briefing. 

Will Riker spoke first, 'Firstly, Worf, my condolences', he cleared his throat, 'Excelsior class. They didn't have a chance. The Hood got lucky is why Captain DeSoto is still around. But the big question is why? Not, why attack in that manner? But why at all? What purpose did it serve? What did it prove?' A thought struck him. He turned to Data, continuing, 'Or, should we be asking, what are they short of? What did the Intrepid have that they wanted, needed even? Data do we have a inventory of material that should have survived the attack, but didn't?' 

Data scanned his memory banks. Soon the answer was forthcoming. 'The entire ship is open to space, due to explosive decompression. But Main Engineering and Photon Torpedo Tubes are virtually undamaged. Yet no torpedoes are aboard and there is a discrepancy between the amount of dilithium in the articulation chamber, and that remaining in the stores. In short a quantity of dilithium and photon torpedoes are missing.' 

'Any way to tell how much of each?' 

'I could attempt to recreate their combat log. See how many torpedoes they fired. Could be they exhausted their supplies in desperation.' LaForge paused, 'Or they may never have got a shot off. The Cardassians may have got a full load off them.' Deanna spoke, 'Excuse me. This may sound a little obvious, but are we sure the rogue Galaxy did this? Admittedly, it fits the pattern, but, isn't that the point, aren't we fitting it all together because we want it to be so?' She turned to Picard. 

'A valid point Counsellor, however. Computer, replay time index 223.6 to 384.2' 

'Sir, ship decloaking off the port beam.'