Tasha stepped down off the horseshoe to stand next to Worf. "I agree, sir. We fight or try to escape."

Picard held up a hand to them and turned to Troi. "Did you sense anything, Commander?"

She shook her head. "Its mind is much too powerful, sir." She paused and then added, "Recommend we avoid contact."

"Interesting," Picard said. "Very interesting."

He considered their remarks, turning the situation over in his mind. There was something they could try. It might not work, but it was a fair chance they could take Q by surprise. He looked up at his people. "All right. From this moment, no station aboard, repeat no station, for any reason will make use of signals, transmission or intercom. Confine all communications to hardcopy only. My personal comm line will be reserved as the only active signals line in use. Let's see if we can take them by surprise. Lieutenant Worf, inform engineering to make ready for maximum acceleration and we'll find out what a Galaxy-cla.s.s starship can do."

"Aye, sir."

Worf was already on his way to the forward turbolift as Picard turned to Data. "Records search, Data.

Results of attempting battle configuration at high warp speeds."

"I beg your pardon, sir?" Data seemed honestly confused.

"You heard me. It's theoretically possible. I want to know if anyone has succeeded-or will we have to be the first?"

The android looked unhappy with the question, but he considered it, seeming to draw in on himself as he searched his internal memory banks. Then he looked at Picard impa.s.sively. "It is inadvisable at any warp speed, sir."

"Search theoretical. What are the odds?"

Data did another quick scan and lifted his shoulders in a slight shrug. "It is possible, sir. But there is no error margin. Therefore I cannot compute the odds."

"I see. Thank you, Data." Picard considered his idea again. It was dangerous-much more dangerous than he liked. Certainly it was much too much of a risk to ask the crew's families to accept. But... they were already at risk from Q-A rock and a hard place. That was the dilemma.

Picard sighed as he examined the plan's faults and virtues one more time. It was an argument he knew he couldn't win, because he was arguing against himself. Logically, he knew what he had to do.

Emotionally... that was another question.

Picard made a choice. He nodded to himself and stood. He raised his voice and said, "Now hear this!"

The crew turned toward him, expectantly. He waited until there was silence on the bridge and all eyes were on him. "Using printout only, notify all decks to prepare for maximum acceleration. Maximum, you're ent.i.tled to know, means we'll be pushing our engines well past their safety limits. Our hope is to surprise whatever that thing is out there and try to outrun it. Our only other option would be to put our tail between our legs and return to Earth as they demand."

Lt. Worf could hurry without running. He had a stride that was near-legendary among those who had tried to keep up with him. He strode into the huge Engineering section of the Enterprise and paused, looking around for the officer in charge.

The great injector core dominated the center of the two-story area, driving through it from floor to ceiling. This was the heart of the Enterprise, as the bridge was her brain. Streams of matter were injected from the top of the core, antimatter from the bottom, to converge on the dilithium crystal, nature's wondrous gift which made warp speed possible.

Despite Klingon advances in interstellar drive technology, Worf still stood in awe of Starfleet's warp drive. It had more sustaining power and thrust than any other drive system in the combined Federation/ Klingon Empire s.p.a.ce and had been one of the key bargaining chips in the negotiations that had made them allies twenty-five years before. Klingon strategists often speculated on what would have happened had the two great powers not united. Indeed, it was a common theme of tactical games at home. Generally, the a.s.sessment was that the alliance of Federation and Empire had proven beneficial for both-and in some very surprising ways. But still, Worf liked to imagine what the Klingon Empire could have been had they had access to engines like these twenty-five years ago. It was a pleasant, if slightly illicit, thought.

Chief Engineer Argyle stepped in beside him quietly. "Help you, Lieutenant?"

"Captain's orders. Make ready for 'max.'"

Argyle's eyes flickered and he frowned. "Maximum?"

"All the way. On the signal 'engage.'"

The chief engineer looked unhappy. He resented anyone abusing his engines. "He'd better have a d.a.m.n good reason."

"We've encountered an alien force. We don't know what it is-what they are. Captain's going to see what they're made of."

"Uh uh. Captain's going to see what we're made of." Argyle turned toward his engineers working at their consoles. "All right. Engineering alert. Stand by. We're powering up to go to maximum warp in one jump."

Several of the engineering crew snapped around to stare at him in surprise and alarm, but he kept his face blank and noncommital. Going to maximum in one jump was hard on the ship, hard on the engines; but it could be done. They had done it in drill, they had done it in simulation. They had even once done it as part of the ship's shakedown.

Still... it wasn't considered a good idea. There was too much likelihood of phase blowout. But the crew knew their jobs, so Argyle wasn't worried about that. What was alarming was the situation that forced them to do it. "Engagement will be on captain's signal from the bridge. Blake, I'll want a maximum charge on the reserve cells."

Worf grinned wickedly and headed back to the main bridge. As the doors to Engineering hissed closed behind him, he heard the low-pitched whine of standard warp power ascending quickly to a high shriek.

Picard stood behind Data at the conn, studying the alien grid that glittered on the viewscreen.

Whichever way they turned their viewer cameras, the grid barred their way-except behind them. Picard was pinning his hopes on what his ancient sporting forebears would have called an "end run."

Worf burst back onto the bridge from the forward turbolift, half running toward his operations station. "Engine Room standing by, sir."

"Thank you, Worf. Data?"

"The board is green, Captain."

The captain stepped back to his command chair and settled easily into it. "Reverse heading, 180 mark 2. Stand by." His eyes flicked over the bridge and the crew poised in readiness at their various stations. He tapped the communication tab on his left-hand panel. "Engage!" The entire bridge shuddered under a scream of power as the warp engines leapt to their full strength.

Picard imagined for just the briefest of instants that he could feel the acceleration as the Enterprise leapt forward. Of course, he could not. He'd have been smeared across the back wall if the inertial gravitational adjusters had not been in sync with the warp drive. Nonetheless, Picard imagined that he could feel the acceleration. Every ship captain did.

The Enterprise shot forward, held in control like a tightly reined horse under Data's navigation, and then-peeled off in a stomach-churning sharp left turn! They pa.s.sed perilously close to the shimmering alien grid, but then they were beyond it and still pushing their warp envelope upward.

Still under Data's tight control, the starship angled her nose beyond the grid and raced free. Behind them, the grid wavered briefly, its glow dimming. It suddenly shrank in size, coalescing into a brightly colored spinning shape that swiftly settled into grim pursuit of the Enterprise.

Picard ignored the steadily rising thrum of the engines and listened to his officers as they reported. "Warp nine point two," Worf reported, grinning. He didn't approve of running from any fight-but he did understand the value of a "strategic withdrawal." Particularly a strategic withdrawal that demonstrated both strength and cleverness. After all, didn't the Earthers have a saying? "He who fights and runs away, lives to fight another day?" Or was it, "-lives to run another day?" Never mind.

"Heading, three-five-one, mark eleven, sir," Data reported from the conn.

"Steady on that."

Tasha spoke up from the Weapons and Tactical console behind Picard. "The hostile is giving chase, sir. Accelerating fast."

Worf stirred at his console and studied his screens. "We are now at warp nine point three, sir."

"Thank you. Let me know when we pa.s.s the red line."

"We are pa.s.sing it now at warp nine point three five, sir."

"Thank you, Lieutenant. Inform engineering to maintain maximum power."

"Aye, sir."

"Continue accelerating," Picard said evenly. He looked over at Troi and half-smiled. "Counselor, at this point I'm open to guesses about what we've just met. What did you feel about it?"

She bowed her head a moment, her dark hair shadowing her face as she pondered, a.n.a.lyzing the sensations she had felt when Q was on the bridge. "It... it felt like something beyond what we'd consider a 'life form.'"

"'Beyond?' Clarify?"

"Very, very advanced, sir. Or ..." Troi considered it and then nodded firmly. "Advanced or certainly very, very different!"

Worf turned in his chair to interrupt. "Sir, we're at warp nine point four."

"Hostile is now beginning to overtake us," Tasha chimed from behind Picard.

"Hostile's realized velocity is warp nine point six, sir," Data added calmly.

"Are you sure?" Picard regretted the words even before he finished speaking them.

Data did not bother to look back at Picard. He accepted rhetorical questions as a matter of human habit. "Of course, sir. Hostile is now within viewer range. Shall I magnify the image?"

"Do it."

The forward wall of the bridge shimmered, and the blinking point of light that had been at the center of it suddenly jumped forward to become a spinning shape, shimmering and undefinable.

Tasha tensed, reading her console. "Hostile's velocity now at nine point seven, sir."

Picard leaned forward in his chair, keeping his eyes on the screen, tabbed his communications line open. "Engineering?"

Argyle's voice came back instantly. "Sir-I have to caution you-"

"Caution be d.a.m.ned, Engineer. We need more speed." Picard snapped off the communications line. "Go to yellow alert."

Data touched a control on his console and the yellow alert alarm began to clamor loudly. Picard turned to Tasha. "Arm photon torpedoes. Stand by to fire." He was aware of Troi's alarmed glance, but he ignored it.

"Torpedoes to ready, sir."

Suddenly the ship shuddered. It was felt as a tremendous tremor throughout the bridge, and several of the crewmembers had to grab quickly for their consoles to steady themselves-and there was a sound, as if some great beast slumbering on the bottom of the blackest ocean had been troubled in its sleep, a beast better left unawakened.

Troi glanced around quickly. She felt the pulse of fear and alarm from some of them. Then the temblor eased away as suddenly as it had begun.

At the forward console, Worf was hastily punching up commands on his console. He had minored in the design and engineering of starships in his Academy days. He'd never experienced a primal shiver first hand, but that great shuddering groan couldn't have been anything else. It was a bad sign. Warp stress could rip the drive core apart.

"Hostile now at warp nine point eight, sir," Tasha reported evenly.

Worf quick-scanned his console. "Our velocity is holding at nine point five."

"Projection," Data said quietly. "We may be able to match the hostile's nine point eight if we push the warp engines to absolute capacity. But at extreme risk, sir."

"Now reading the hostile at warp nine point nine."

Picard paused a moment, considering his options one more time. There was really not much to consider.

He'd been locked into this course of action since the moment he'd ordered, "Engage." There was no changing his mind now. Finally he rose and raised his voice so it carried to all areas of the bridge.

"Now hear this. Printout message, urgent. All stations on all decks, prepare for emergency battle configuation maneuver."

Tasha looked to Picard in alarm. Troi looked at Tasha at the same moment, sensing her fear. The starship had been constructed so the main disk could be detached and function as an independent vehicle if necessary, although it could proceed only on impulse power. The remaining half-the stardrive section-had its own bridge, the heavy phasers and photon torpedo launchers, and the warp engines.

Original Starfleet planning designated the saucer as a sanctuary for noncombatants while the battle section was its defense. Starfleet's exploration of s.p.a.ce had been far from uneventful, but there were only a few occasions where a captain had taken the extraordinary step of splitting his ship into two, sending the saucer section off to safety while riding the stardrive section into combat. Obviously, a captain had to consider the situation so serious that this final measure was unavoidable.

Picard gestured Worf out of his Ops chair. "You will command the main bridge, Lieutenant."

"Sir!" The young Klingon jumped to his feet in protest, his outrage overriding his normal respect for the superior officer. "I am a Klingon, sir. For me to seek escape while my captain goes into battle-"

"Noted," Picard said quickly. His voice turned cold. "But you are also a Starfleet officer, Lieutenant, and you have been given an order."

Worf hesitated, considering another protest. The years of discipline and ingrained obedience prevailed, and he nodded his head once at the captain. "Aye, sir." But his expression spoke volumes.

Picard tapped a control on his right hand panel and spoke quietly. "Captain's log, Stardate 41153.73.

At this moment, I am transferring command to the battle bridge." He gestured to Data. "Make the signal."

Data touched a control lightly, and the traditional bugle call "Beat to Quarters" rang over the bridge. It repeated over and over as the duty officers swiftly moved toward the battle turbo.

Replacements began to arrive almost immediately on the other two lifts, and the main bridge was fully remanned in moments. Reluctantly, Worf moved over to the captain's command chair and contemplated it dourly before he settled down into it. "Prepare for battle configuration," he said firmly. "On the captain's command."

The thought flickered across his consciousness: If a Klingon were in charge of this ship, we wouldn't be running. But he was a Starfleet officer and-well, the captain might not always be right, but he was always the captain.

The turbolift fell swiftly toward the battle bridge. Picard stared unseeingly at the lift's directional lights as he considered his plan. The disengagement of the command disk at high warp speeds was a dangerous tactic, but they had to have enough of a lead on the Q ship (or whatever it was) so they could turn and face it while the saucer made away with the majority of the ship's company and her noncombatants.

The turbo sighed to a stop, and the doors popped open, revealing the stark and functional battle bridge. Picard led the way into the smaller station, his bridge crew quickly fanning out to their duty positions. Data activated the conn and scanned the panel while Pi-card quietly dictated the captain's log supplementary, explaining his strategy.

"Hostile is still closing on us, sir. Their speed is holding at warp nine point nine."

"Interesting," Picard noted. "Whoever or whatever it is, has the same warp envelope limitations as we do. Perhaps they are not so powerful as they like to pretend." Picard nodded toward Tasha.

"Lieutenant, I want a full spread of photon torpedoes aimed to detonate close enough to the hostile to blind it at the moment we separate. Stand by to fire on my 'mark.'"

"Understood, sir."

Picard tabbed his communications control. "Lieutenant Worf, this is the captain."

Worf's voice replied crisply over the speaker. "Yes, sir?"

"As separation begins, we will reduce power just enough to get the saucer section out ahead and clear of us."

"Understood, sir."

"Begin countdown." Picard paused, gauging the glittering intruder on the viewscreen, then said firmly, "Mark!"

Tasha's fingers flew over her weapons console. "Photon torpedoes away."

The torpedoes leapt away from the Enterprise's aft tubes with solid satisfying ka-chunks. Each one flashed and glittered as it sped rearward.