Free Star Trek: The Next Generation: Starfleet Academy #6: Mystery of the Missing Crew by Michael Jan Friedman

“you will have to do it without us.”
    “But-” sputtered Lagon, “none of us knows how to fire the phasers.”
    Data nodded sympathetically. “Yes,” he answered. “I know.”
    “One more minute,” gulped Odril. His face was an open appeal. “Please … before it’s too late.”
    But, true to his word, the android didn’t move. He simply watched the viewscreen, with Sinna at his side.
    “Forty seconds,” came Odril’s reminder. “Thirty-five. Thirty.” His voice was drenched with despair, but he seemed to feel it was his duty to mark the passage of time for the others. “Twenty-five. Twenty.”
    “Hail the alien vessel,” Data said suddenly.
    The Yann all turned to look at him, including Sinna.
    “It’s about time,” muttered Felai.
    Sinna’s eyes narrowed. “I thought—”
    But she never got a chance to finish her remark. It was interrupted by the appearance of the alien commander on the viewscreen.
    “Your time is almost up,” the alien reminded them. “If you intend to leave this sector, you must do so without delay.”
    The android shook his head. “I only contacted you to say that we have not changed our minds. We intend to remain here. What is more, we will take no action to prevent your attack.”
    The alien’s brows knit over his bony nose. “What?” he rasped.
    “You heard me correctly,” Data confirmed. “We will neither move from our position nor employ defensive measures. If you have the ability to carry out your threat, feel free to do so.”
    The alien’s eyes opened wide. He blinked—not once, but twice. “Are you insane?” he asked.
    The android shrugged. “My internal diagnostics give no indication of any positronic malfunction,” he replied honestly. “Why do you ask?”
    The alien seemed on the verge of answering the question, then stopped himself. “It is not important,” he said. “All that matters is your defiance of our mandate. Since you refuse to leave, you give me no choice … but to blast you and your ship to atoms.”
    He waited then, as if expecting a more reasonable response. And if it were up to Odril, Lagon, or Felai, there no doubt would have been. But the Yann kept their silence.
    Despite their frustration, they must have known it would do them no good to beg for mercy. If they were going to die, it seemed, they were going to do it with a little dignity.
    Now, thought Data, the only question was … had he interpreted the facts of the situation correctly? Or had he doomed them all to certain destruction?
    “Five,” whispered Odril. “Four. Three. Two.” He shivered and looked at the viewscreen.
    “One.”
    Looking away from them, the alien commander gestured to one of his bridge officers. “Activate the weapons array, Thibra. Full power.”
    “Full power,” echoed the officer, acknowledging the order with a nod for good measure. Lowering her gaze to a particular spot on her control panel, she raised her hand. Then, slowly and deliberately, she brought it down on an oval padd.
    At which point … nothing happened.
    No sizzling energy beams, no hurtling plasma packets, no fiery tachyon torpedoes. Nothing.
    “Sweet, deities,” murmured Felai. “The android was right. Their weapons don’t work. They were bluffing the whole time.”
    Sinna turned to Data and smiled. She didn’t have to say anything. Her expression alone told the android how happy she was that she had supported him. And also, how relieved .
    The alien commander, too, was eyeing Data with new respect. “It seems,” he said, “you have discovered our helplessness—as much as we tried to conceal it. All I ask is that you terminate us quickly.”
    The android shook his head. “We have no intention of destroying you,” he explained. “Our crew is no bigger or more experienced than your own—and our vessel, like yours, is defective in several key operating areas. In short, we are in the same predicament you are.”
    Data’s counterpart looked at him suspiciously. “