Lost Souls (Star Trek: Destiny, Book 3) by David Mack
By David Mack
The warriors of Armageddon are at the march, laying waste to worlds of their passage. An audacious plan might cease them without end, however it incorporates hazards that one starship captain is unwilling to take. For Captain Jean-Luc Picard, protecting the long run hasn't ever been so vital, or so own -- and the inaccurate selection will expense him every thing for which he has struggled and suffered.
For Captain William Riker, that selection has already been made. Haunted via the stories of these he used to be pressured to go away in the back of, he needs to jeopardize all that he has left in a determined bid to save lots of the Federation.
For Captain Ezri Dax, whose impetuous formative years is balanced by way of the knowledge of many lifetimes, the alternative is an easy one: there's no going again -- purely ahead to no matter what destiny awaits them.
yet if you, millennia in the past, had no choice...this is the hour in their ultimate, inescapable future.
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Example text
There were wooden planks laid here and there as walkways. There were haphazard piles of paper cement sacks, some full, some empty. There were more open expansion joints. There were strings of bare light bulbs, turned off. Empty wheelbarrows, crushed soda cans, spools of cable, unexplained lengths of lumber, piles of crushed stone, silent concrete mixers. There was grey cement dust everywhere, as fine as talc, and the smell of damp lime. The man with the rifle walked on in the darkness until he came close to the new northeast corner.
He drove inside and thumbed the button again and the door came down after him. He shut the engine off and sat still for a moment. Then he got out of the van and walked through the mud room and on into the kitchen. He patted the dog and turned on the television. Paramedics in full body armour went in through the back of the library. Two of them stayed inside to check for injuries among the sheltering crowd. Four of them came out the front and ran crouched through the plaza and ducked behind the wall.
The shell case has got fingerprints on it,' he said. 'From when he loaded the magazine. Same thumb and index finger as on the quarter in the parking meter and on the traffic cone. So we can tie the crime to the gun, and the gun to the ammo, and the ammo to the guy who used it. See? It all connects. The guy, the gun, the crime. ' 'I think he was a military shooter,' Emerson said. 'All military personnel are in the databases. ' It was a matter of forty-nine minutes. A desk guy knocked and entered.