He shook his bald blue head, baring the sharp teeth in his lower eating mouth while responding through his beaklike speaking mouth. “Not by tractors alone. We’d burn out the emitters.”
“And blowing it up would just leave a bunch of smaller rocks heading on the same course. Would that be any better for the planet?”
“Not much. Same amount of kinetic energy delivered, just a bit more diffusely. And given its density, the surviving chunks might still be sizeable. It might actually endanger life across an even wider area of the ocean.”
Oh, great.“Options?”
The ’Geusian leaned forward eagerly. It would be just like a member of his highly competitive culture, Vale thought, to see this as an entertaining challenge to pit himself against. “We could use phasers and torpedoes to vaporize a portion of the asteroid, creating explosive thrust that would push it off course, supplementing the tractor beams. We’d have to use the beams in pressor mode, pushing in the same direction as the thrust reaction.”
Vale nodded. “Do it.” She had almost regretted insisting that Tuvok keep his counseling appointment with Deanna rather than supervising the deflection as he’d requested, but Kuu’iut seemed to have the matter well in hand.
In moments, the Betelgeusian had the target coordinates computed and coordinated with Ooteshk at the conn, who moved Titaninto position, reversing thrust until the ship was keeping station with the asteroid. “If my gamble pays off,” Kuu’iut said, “a phaser strike and two quantum torpedoes in that central fissure should blow off a fairly large chunk or two, providing some extra reaction mass. I’m boosting shields in case of blowback.”
“We’re not here to gamble, Ensign,” Vale reminded him. “I want the surest thing you can give me.”
“Aye, ma’am,” the ’Geusian said, but he sounded like he was humoring her. “Engaging tractor beams in pressor mode.” On-screen, a false-color overlay made the beams visible, a tight cone of lavender rays extending to make contact with the asteroid. Vale idly wondered why Starfleet imaging technicians generally chose blue or purple shades to represent gravitational phenomena.
“Deflection…point oh six arcseconds per minute,” Ensign Fell reported after a moment. “Point oh eight,” a few moments later.
“That’s below projections,” Kuu’iut said, “even accounting for its density.”
“Beam status?” Vale asked.
“Full power is being delivered. But it’s not having its full effect.”
“Boost tractor power to compensate. How long can the emitters run at overload?”
Kuu’iut’s clawed fingers danced across the console as he replied. “At this level, thirty-eight minutes. It should be sufficient.”
“Deflection rate rising to…point one two,” Fell reported in an incongruously seductive lilt.
“Still below projections.”
“Internal temperature and radiation readings beginning to rise,” the Deltan went on. “Something may be absorbing some of the beam energy, transforming it into radiant energy rather than kinetic.”
“Something like?”
Fell tilted her smooth, elegantly contoured head. Bald,Vale thought in passing. There’s a look I haven’t tried.“Readings could be consistent with sarium or yurium.”
Vale recognized them as elements that could store and channel energy. “Could that affect the use of phasers, Kuu’iut?”
“Not materially. As long as I boost the power as with the tractors.”
She turned to Tasanee Panyarachun at the engineering console. “Have engineering stand by to deliver extra power, if needed.”
“Aye, ma’am,” the dainty Thai woman answered.
“Phasers and torpedoes ready,” Kuu’iut said. “We’re in the window, ma’am.”
Vale gave a curt nod. “Fire.”
A red beam lashed out, another enhanced image, though less so than the tractors. It struck the fissure perfectly, and a cloud of vaporized rock erupted around the impact site. Two bright torpedoes followed it a moment later, detonating inside the pit the phasers had carved. There was no sign of the chunk breaking off as Kuu’iut had predicted. “Temp and radiation spiking!” Fell called after a moment. “Some kind of internal surge—”
“Feedback pulse along the tractor beam!” Panyarachun cried.
Kuu’iut’s corvine cry almost drowned her out: “Detonation! Brace for impact!”
Vale raced to the command chair to strap herself in as power surges ripped through the ship, jumping breakers, blowing circuits. The lights flickered and died, and the consoles danced with St. Elmo’s fire, though luckily the new-generation wave guides woven into the material channeled the energies through the walls and away from the crew. But that was small comfort when Titanrocked under a chain of rapid-fire collisions, hitting so hard it felt like the whole asteroid had struck the ship. Vale was sent flying before she reached the chair.
“Tuvok!”
The lights were gone, only the emergency illumination remaining, but it was enough to let Deanna see that the Vulcan was sprawled motionless on the floor beneath the office table, his head coated in something dark and glistening. She couldn’t see color, but she knew it was green. “Oh, God.” She struck her combadge. “Medical emergency, Counselor Troi’s office!” Maybe emergencies, she thought as she felt her insides heave and she vomited up her last meal onto the carpet. She couldn’t tell through the inner turbulence if the baby was still kicking. “Sickbay, acknowledge!”
Nothing. “Computer!” She began dragging herself toward Tuvok. “Where are you, you stupid computer?” But that voice, the one that reminded her so maddeningly of her mother, remained silent. “Somebody!” she yelled. “We need help in here!”