“More wisdom from your Prophets, Mr. Jaza?” said Ra-Havreii. He’d been mostly silent as they waited for the final systems check to conclude, only humming occasionally to himself some breezy Efrosian tune.

  “Well, yes, as a matter of fact,” said Jaza, clicking the final buckle into place and checking over his own field kit. Ra-Havreii snorted derisively. Jaza ignored him. “But, in this case, we don’t have to look to the Prophets for guidance.”

  “What then?” said Modan.

  “Simple,” said Jaza. “Dr. Ra-Havreii is here with us. He wouldn’t have set foot inside this thing if he wasn’t certain he’d be coming back.”

  Everyone laughed at that, even the engineer, though it was anybody’s guess whether or not any of the apparent relief of tension was authentic.

   Troi would know, thought Vale absently as her gaze strayed from the members of her team to the view of the hangar beyond the forward canopy. The entire hangar was shrouded in light-absorbing black, the variously configured energy dampers that would, theoretically, keep the shuttle’s warp field from destroying the place.

  Here and there engineers in EVA gear scurried back and forth, securing couplings and quadruple-checking relevant systems. They seemed so small in comparison to all that black. Even the massive hangar doors, normally open to space, were currently closed, the force field that usually protected the deck from the hard vacuum having been rendered as inoperable as the rest of Titan’s energy shields.

  As she took in the enormity of what they were about to attempt, it was difficult not to feel some nervousness about this whole thing. Jaza’s plan was like a clock with a million working parts, the failure of any one of which would spell catastrophe.

  She just wished they could get on with it. The longer they sat, the more time frayed nerves would have to fail altogether. Keru and Jaza were rock steady, of course, but she was less confident about Modan and Ra-Havreii. Living and working among even Titan’s diverse crew was one thing. The shared ethos of all present went a long way to smoothing otherwise rough edges and apparent inconsistencies. Putting their feet, unannounced, on alien dirt was another matter entirely. Still, between herself and the other veterans, there shouldn’t be too much trouble from the rookies.

  Just as Vale was wondering what the hell was keeping Troi, she appeared, followed closely by the captain. Both looked grim and said little beyond that conversation made necessary by their duties and positions.

  Well. At least they’d get the breathing space that Dr. Huilan had claimed was necessary. Take purchase where you find it, as her mother used to say.

  She could see they had been at it again, whatever it was, and it, whatever it was, had taken its toll on both of them. To the casual observer there was no trace of their secret conflict, but to Vale, the signs had become abundantly clear.

  The tension in the captain’s jaw, the steely focus of his eyes, the counselor’s mask of placidity painting a false veneer over the emotions roiling beneath. Once again, as Troi took her place in the last empty jump seat, Vale felt a wave of melancholy wash over her, dredging up thoughts of battles she’d had with her mother over everything from what to wear to her induction ceremony for the Izar peace office to her choice to leave the family business for a life in the black.

  It wasn’t as intense as the storm that had taken her in the counselor’s suite, but it was certainly noticeable. At least it was to Vale. The others seemed totally unaware of anything beyond their conversation about the mission and their chances of completing it.

  “So. We know how this works,” said Riker, his big frame forced to stoop in order to hang there in the open hatchway. He looked like a bear trying to squeeze into a foxhole. “The big doors open, the atmosphere vents, and then the countdown begins. Ten seconds later the shuttle will accelerate to warp two for just under three nanoseconds. About a minute after that you’ll be in striking distance of Orisha and, hopefully, close enough to beam through the distortion.”

  “That’s provided we make it out of the shuttlebay,” said Modan, but only to herself.

  “Yes, Ensign,” said Ra-Havreii, having heard her. “Provided that. You see, a warp bubble-”

  “No speech here, folks,” said Riker, cutting the engineer off before he could build up a head of steam. “You all know your jobs. You know what’s at stake. Get it done and get back here as soon as you can.” His personal good-bye to his wife was something in the eyes. There was always something crackling between them that way, and now, despite their obvious troubles, it bound them still. What was the Betazoid word they used to describe that connection? Imzadi?

  As he backed out of the hatch, Riker’s eyes conveyed to Vale her own silent communication. Bring them back, Chris. It might not have been the same sort of empathic contact he enjoyed with Troi, but Vale got the message.

  Then he was gone, and there was nothing left but the sounds of the hatch sealing shut behind him and the evenly modulated tones of the computer beginning its launch prep.

   “ShuttlecraftEllington ready for launch,”said the artificial female voice. “All personnel please clear the flight deck.”

  The EVA suits scrambled for the nearest exits, and soon the hangar was empty. For a few moments nothing stirred in the black and silver expanse, but then, almost imperceptibly at first, the enormous doors at the far end began to separate.

  Vale was a little surprised to see the twinkles and black of normal space peeking in through the widening aperture. From all the trouble caused by these pulses and their aftereffect, she’d expected something more dramatic.

   “Shuttlebay doors open,”said the computer. “Force shield protections offline. Atmosphere venting. Twenty-four seconds to shuttle launch. Twenty-two.”

  As if anyone needed to be told. The outgassing was like a raging torrent outside the Ellington, the noise and violence of the air flow eliciting a nervous hiss from Y’lira Modan and a few words of comfort in her ear from Troi.

  “This is the worst part, Ensign,” she said in what Vale guessed was the voice she usually reserved for agitated patients. “In a few seconds it’ll all be over.”

  “I’m not sure that’s the best choice of words, Commander,” said Modan, but she smiled. Keru and Jaza both managed chuckles before they were given another update, this time from the Ellingtonitself.

   “Initializing warp core,”said the second voice, in tones identical to that of Titan’s own. “Safety protocols LII through QI, disabled. Modified flight control program initiating. Away team, secure for warp three in six seconds. Five seconds. Four seconds. Three seconds. Two seconds. One-”

  The final syllables were lost in the shattering of reality all around the little vessel. While the shuttle itself only shuddered a bit, for a portion of a moment that was nearly too brief to perceive, the shuttlebay around it and the field of stars outside fused into a single kaleidoscopic whole.

  It was nothing like going to warp under normal circumstances. There was no streaming of stars, no sense of nondirectional acceleration. There was, for some of the team, only the momentary feeling of having neither weight nor mass, but it too was gone almost too quickly for their minds to process.

  There was the fraction of a blinding flash, an instant of the warp drive whining under the strain of initialization and then, as abruptly as it had come, the moment was gone and so was the shuttlebay.

  It took a second for Vale to realize the odd, high-pitched keening sound was coming from one of her teammates rather than the ship’s warning system.