The Sky's the Limit

Marco Palmieri & Gene Roddenberry

Book 124 of Star Trek: TNG

Language: English

Publisher: Simon & Schuster

Published: Oct 16, 2007

Description:

Product Description

Taking its title from the final words spoken by Captain Jean-Luc Picard in the series finale, The Sky's the Limit is a collection of brand new original stories spanning and celebrating the entire twenty-year history of the most popular and successful Trek series of all. Stories by a variety of authors -- some old favourites, some new -- set during the events of the television series give the authentic feel of a newly discovered 'missing season' of Star Trek: The Next Generation.

Contributors include Christopher L. Bennett, Greg Cox, Keith R. A. DeCandido, Bob Ingersoll & Thomas F. Zahler, David A. McIntee, Scott Pearson, Michael Schuster & Steve Mollmann, Susan Shwartz, Amy Sisson, James Swallow, Geoff Trowbridge, Dayton Ward & Kevin Dilmore, Richard C. White.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.


Meet With Triumph and Disaster

by Michael Schuster & Steve Mollmann

The first time Captain Thomas Halloway saw the U.S.S. Enterprise, the starship was nothing more than a simulation displayed on a designer's terminal. Even back then, he had been impressed by her size, although he had no illusions that a computer model ever would be able to do the real thing justice.

The third time he saw the Enterprise, she had gone through every preliminary test imaginable, and the first struts of her spaceframe were about to be welded together on the Martian surface, to be lifted into orbit later on.

The seventh time he saw the Enterprise, construction had progressed far enough to enable people to work inside her without having to depend on space suits. That had been the day the life-support systems had been switched on, only weeks after Thomas had been chosen as the right man to supervise the construction efforts. It was also five years before the ship would leave the orbital dock under its own power, using only maneuvering thrusters.

And that had been eight years before the commissioning ceremony that was just minutes away.

It was quite a turnout; Thomas had the feeling that nobody would notice if he suddenly disappeared. This was an event that had drawn hundreds from all over the Federation to this place: the orbital docks of Utopia Planitia Fleet Yards, Mars. It was a celebration of Starfleet's desire to explore the unknown, an affirmation of one of the basic ideals of the Federation: the constant and never-ending quest for more knowledge.

What more fitting embodiment of this ideal was there than the Galaxy-class ship itself? So grand and impressive -- swanlike and almost alive. It dwarfed everything else in orbit, with the exception of the spacedock cradling it. "Traveling cities" they had been called by some of their designers, and Thomas was tempted to agree with this assessment. Their purpose was to trawl the regions beyond known space, always on the lookout for interesting and curious new discoveries, be they alive or not.

On the other side of a crowd of dignitaries, Thomas caught sight of a familiar figure. "Orfil!" Thomas shouted and waved at his erstwhile colleague. "Try to come over here, will you?"

A throng of wildly gesticulating Guidons almost prevented Commander Orfil Quinteros from crossing the distance of only a few meters, but eventually he succeeded and shook Thomas's hand. Orfil had worked with Thomas for almost ten years, serving as his right-hand man on the construction team (not to mention best friend), but he had been gone for two months now, undergoing command training in preparation for his transfer to Starbase 74.

"When did you arrive?" Thomas asked.

"Late last night. HQ booked me a flight on a civilian shuttle bound for Pluto, and from there I took the ferry to Titan. I hardly got any sleep." Orfil had relatives in Christopher's Landing, and he was likely to pay them a visit whenever he had enough time. "Where's the boss?"

"Out and about, I suspect. I haven't actually seen him yet, but I don't think he'll pass on the opportunity to celebrate. Do you?"

"Nah." Having worked for many years under Admiral Theoderich Patterson, they both knew exactly what he liked, and playing host for such a celebration as today's was one of the things right at the top of that list. The admiral had started as a lowly engineer at Utopia Planitia and, having managed to stay there his entire career, now ran the place. "Most likely, he's already mingling."

"Most likely," Thomas agreed.

Without warning, Orfil slapped him on the shoulder hard enough that Thomas's knees almost buckled. "So, what news of Solveig and the kids?"

"They're doing fine. Rupa's enjoying elementary school only slightly less than she did kindergarten, but that was to be expected. Matti...well, let's just say he's in a difficult phase right now."

"Ah, puberty." The two men exchanged knowing grins. "Say, why isn't Solveig here? Or did I just fail to spot her? The kids wouldn't have had much fun here, but I'm sure that your wife at least would want to celebrate your triumph with you."

What was being celebrated today was not just his triumph, but also the culmination of two decades' work, if one included in the count the general design and planning efforts for the entire Galaxy class. Twenty years ago, the project had begun, and now the third ship of that class was about to be commissioned. It would not have been such a special occasion if this had been any other ship -- certainly, nobody had made such a fuss about the commissioning of Yamato, for example -- but since this was the first starship in two decades to bear the prestigious name Enterprise, things were different.

Very different.

The people present at this celebration of the past and the future were mostly important figures connected with the Fleet, while others, though few in number, represented the UFP government. It was too much Starfleet top brass, too much pomp and circumstance for Solveig to enjoy herself, and they had talked about it extensively weeks ago, eventually coming to the agreement that they would celebrate on their own, with their relatives and closest friends. It was something Thomas was looking forward to, even as he stood here waiting for the actual start of festivities.

"Solveig...well, you know how she feels about the Fleet, don't you?"

"Oh, yes," said Orfil emphatically. A few times he had been a guest of the Halloways, eating dinner with them and spending an eventful evening at their house in Central Burroughs. Orfil had experienced Solveig in action often enough to know what she thought of Starfleet, Federation politics, and just about everything else that crossed her mind.

Movement at the other end of the observation center that doubled as the locale for tonight's event caught Thomas's attention -- somebody was mounting the stage. It was Admiral Patterson, about to make the first speech of many that would be delivered tonight. Beyond the transparent wall behind the admiral, the rusty orb of Mars shimmered in the sun...as did the star of today's ceremony.

She hung scarcely a hundred meters away, keeping close company with the station ostensibly in order to give the attendees the best possible view of her, though all they saw was the underside of the saucer section, the neck, and the front part of the secondary hull with its ringed navigational deflector.

Still, thought Thomas, she's a sight to behold.

The audience quieted as Patterson took the podium. "Good evening, dear guests. It is a great honor and an even greater pleasure for me to be able to welcome you all here today. Many of you have had to travel long distances to be present on this very special occasion, and for that I thank you. It is not every day that we celebrate the commissioning of a new starship, much less that of a ship with such a prestigious and famous name as that of the U.S.S. Enterprise, a name that goes back centuries, used long before there was a Starfleet on Earth, long before even there were any spacegoing craft on that planet at all. Now has come the time to make that name part of the Federation's fleet once again, to lead the way in expanding our knowledge and understanding of the universe and -- most important -- ourselves.

"We celebrate this event not only because we can, but also because we feel that we have an obligation to do so. The previous starship called Enterprise was destroyed with all hands nineteen years ago, and I ask you all to join me now in a minute's silent remembrance of those who lost their lives that day."

Thomas still remembered where he had been when he had heard the news. It was such an extraordinary occurrence, the destruction of the Enterprise-C, that one could not help but memorize every little detail about it. Such a thing did not happen, especially not with people aboard. Many had died in that Romulan attack over Narendra III, but if any good could come from such a tragedy, it was that the ship's loss had gone a long way to strengthen deteriorating relations between the Federation and the Klingon Empire.

"Thank you," Patterson said and gripped the sides of the podium, leaning slightly forward. "Let us never forget the brave souls who gave their lives for our safety throughout Federation history. It is only because of their sacrifice that we have come so far: from belonging to separate, disparate planets to being part of a vast interstellar whole that is so much more than the sum of its parts. Rather than being satisfied with the status quo, we want to know more, about ourselves, about others, about the place we live in. Who better to talk about this ship's mission" -- he made a sweeping gesture toward the majestic form beyond the windows -- "than our next speaker. My dear friends and supporters of Starfleet's cause, I am proud to introduce the Respectable Lady Svaath Magodin, Secretary of Science and Space Exploration of the United Federation of Planets!"

Applause followed, and a reptilian Xindi ascended the stage. Magodin was slightly smaller than average for her species, and if you didn't know her, you'd think that she was not very remarkable at all. Months previous, Thomas had made the mistake of assuming her to be just that, and he'd quickly discovered his error: she was distinguished by virtue of the way she interacted with others. She did not beat about the bush; if there was something she wanted, she said so. She reminded him of nothing so much as a Vulcan matriarch.

"Thank you, Admiral. I am glad to be here today," she said. Her voice was at odds with what you would expect from her appearance, as it always reminded Thomas of a little elf. Somehow it did not seem to belong to a woman from New Xindus. "Admiral Patterson has already mentioned the reason for this gathering," she continued, addressing the throng of guests, "but I feel it bears repeating. It is about the pursuit of knowledge, both ...