Available light, p.24
Available Light, page 24
“No.” Alehuguet’s shoulders sagged as though a great weight had just been placed upon them. “Even if the process worked, it would take more power than we have.”
Chen said, “What about just sending a handful of engineers to help with the repairs?”
“Yes, that may be feasible, but we must keep the number of people being transitioned as small as possible.” Forcing a smile, Alehuguet said, “You are very brave and selfless to risk yourself to help us, T’Ryssa. Thank you.”
“You can thank me once this is all over.”
• • •
The longer Taurik studied the information before him, dividing his attention between his tricorder and the Nejamri computer console, the worse the situation became.
“The distribution hub is shot,” reported Dina Elfiki from where she worked at an adjacent console in the control room. Like Taurik, and thanks to the translation protocols his tricorder helped to forge during their first visit to the Osijemal, she now appeared almost as fluent and confident while operating the Nejamri technology as she was with the starship console interfaces with which they both were familiar. She tapped one of her workstation’s screens. “There should be a regulator and switch in this component here, but it was destroyed by shrapnel. This junction is one of three directing power from the main battery plant to this spire. With that circuit fused, the hub is just draining power unchecked. If it’s not fixed, it’ll bleed the batteries dry.”
Standing along with Rennan Konya behind Taurik and Elfiki, Worf said, “That area of the ship is not easily accessible.” He moved closer, indicating another of the monitors that currently displayed a schematic cross section of the Osijemal. “That is a maintenance conduit, but it appears to be blocked by hull damage.”
“If we can clear a path,” said Elfiki, “that conduit is big enough for someone to get in there even while wearing an environment suit. It’ll take time, but it’s not impossible.” She placed a hand on the workstation. “What about T’Ryssa and the Nejamri?”
Taurik replied, “The loss of power will obviously bring down the Osijemal’s main computer.” He gestured toward his own console. “I have detected a marked decrease in energy usage since the attack. It appears that some form of power reduction protocol has been put into effect.”
“Have you been able to contact T’Ryssa?” asked Konya.
Taurik said, “There has been no response to any of our queries since the attack, Lieutenant. The onboard computer is still active, but its processing activity has also diminished. I suspect this is also part of the power-saving measures.”
“If the ship loses all power, and the computer deactivates,” said Elfiki, “what happens to Trys and the others? They’re not programs, Taurik.”
“I suspect such a situation would be . . . unfortunate for anyone housed within the computer matrix.”
“Unfortunate?” Konya almost spat the word. “Are you kidding with this?”
Worf placed a hand on the security officer’s arm. The simple action was enough to incite the Betazoid to clear his throat and offer a meek wave.
“My apologies, Commander.”
“I understand your frustration, Lieutenant,” replied the Vulcan.
Worf said, “If you are correct, then maintaining at least some power is the primary concern.”
“Agreed,” replied Taurik, “but I suspect that will not be without some difficulty.” Given the last attempt to transfer energy from the Enterprise, he suspected Commander La Forge would not be anxious to put the starship into that position again, but there were few alternatives to the current situation. “We may be able to supplement the ship’s battery plant with portable generators, or perhaps by connecting the power systems of a shuttlecraft or runabout in some manner directly to the Osijemal, but I do not know if we can provide energy equivalent to what the computer is now using.”
Before Elfiki or Worf could respond, they all reacted to a new sound from overhead. Taurik looked up to see the sphere at the center of the room coming to life, spinning on its support arm as several of its emitters illuminated. He realized it was his first time hearing the device in action, now that he and the away team were working without their EV suits. It was, he was forced to admit, a rather intimidating display.
“Anybody want to guess what it’s doing?” asked Elfiki.
Seconds later, the device ceased swiveling, and six emitters began flashing, each adhering to its own pattern and tempo. Despite his years of training to suppress the instincts that drove emotional reactions, Taurik still flinched when the emitters unleashed their own beam of blue-white energy, aimed not at any of the consoles or equipment but simply the floor. Upon striking the metal plating, each beam expanded, bloating and stretching outward, and Taurik realized they were assuming humanoid form. The beams faded, leaving behind T’Ryssa Chen and five other humanoids Taurik recognized as Nejamri. Each was dressed in a dark, single-piece garment while a few carried satchels or packs of various shapes and sizes slung over shoulders or across their backs. Chen, meanwhile, wore her environment suit.
“T’Ryssa?” said Taurik.
Before she could respond, the sphere activated again, discharging another half dozen beams of energy aimed just to the side of the newly arrived group. Within seconds those flashes solidified into six more figures, all Torrekmat. Like Chen, they wore environment suits but theirs were larger, almost oversized garments identical to those worn by the boarding party the away team had encountered in the Osijemal’s landing bay. Taurik also noted all six were armed, with weapons secured in holsters at their waists.
“Don’t move!”
It was Konya, who had retrieved his phaser rifle from a nearby console and now had the weapon tight into his right shoulder, peering down its length as he advanced on the new arrivals. Worf and Elfiki followed suit, drawing phasers from their holsters and moving to support Konya.
While the Nejamri all complied, each raising their arms to show they carried no weapons, Chen and the Torrekmat seemed not to hear the command or even notice the away team’s presence. None of the Torrekmat attempted to bring their weapons to bear. Instead they stumbled one or two steps, before each began collapsing to their knees. Chen turned until she faced the away team, and Taurik saw her confused expression as she raised her right hand in a weak, listless wave.
“Hey, guys,” she said, her voice muffled by her EV suit’s external communications unit. To Taurik, she sounded dazed, or somehow impaired. Could she be injured?
Then she, too, crumpled into a heap on the deck, leaving only the Nejamri to stare at Taurik and the others with silent uncertainty.
• • •
Darkness. Wherever she looked, Chen saw nothing but darkness.
No, that’s wrong. Faint, reddish-white light teased the edges of her vision, and she became aware of a distant, low-pitched hum. Other sounds, electronic tones and what she thought might be voices, teased her as awareness returned.
Chen opened her eyes, beholding the blurry, rather unremarkable ceiling of the Enterprise sickbay.
“Lieutenant?” said a voice from somewhere nearby.
Feeling the bed beneath her, Chen blinked several times in rapid succession in an attempt to clear her vision. The sensation of rousing from sleep was already fading, and her hands moved without her conscious thought until she felt them resting on her chest. Beneath her fingers she felt the material of a blanket draped over her body. Then a shadow fell across the bed and she turned her head to see Doctor Tamala Harstad standing next to her. The dark-skinned assistant chief medical officer reached out to place a hand on her shoulder.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
It seemed an obvious question, though Chen realized she did not quite know how to answer it. She frowned, searching for her last memory before . . .
Before what? The question almost screamed at her from the recesses of her sleep-clouded mind.
“I remember floating in darkness,” she said. Words did not want to cooperate just now. “Not falling, but simply . . . existing. Surrounded by suffocating void. Why?” Her thoughts were a jumble, at least at first, but already Chen sensed clarity returning. “Wait. Alehuguet.” She glanced around sickbay, seeing no sign of the Nejamri leader. That made sense though, shouldn’t it? Alehuguet could not be here. She was still trapped, inside the . . .
“Captain Picard,” she snapped. “I need to speak with Captain Picard and Commander La Forge.” Pushing herself to a sitting position, she pulled aside the blanket and swung her legs off the bed. That sudden action proved to be a mistake as a wave of dizziness washed over her. Harstad was there to prevent her from tumbling to the deck.
“You’re going to want to take it easy for a bit,” cautioned the doctor. “The disorientation should pass in a few minutes.”
Sensing new movement in her peripheral vision, Chen looked up as Doctor Beverly Crusher and Captain Picard entered the ward from her office.
“It’s good to see you, Lieutenant,” said Picard.
Crusher moved to examine the medical monitor above Chen’s bed. “You had us worried for a while, but we did a complete scan and found nothing out of the ordinary. It seems your little trip—or whatever you want to call it—left no lingering or debilitating side effects.”
“Other than my being dizzy and wanting to throw up all over your boots, I feel great,” replied Chen. Despite her quip, she actually was feeling better than just a moment earlier. “Okay, maybe I’ll spare them.”
Crusher put a hand on her back. “I appreciate that. Even though we’ve found no indications of anything wrong, I want to keep you here awhile longer, just to be sure. There’s no way to anticipate what long-term effects your transition to and from their computer system may have.”
“I feel fine, Doctor,” replied Chen. “Honestly. Don’t get me wrong; the whole experience was weird, but at the same time it was . . . amazing.” She was surprised to realize she found herself missing the Haven and Alehuguet and those few Nejamri she had met. It was almost as if she had left a part of herself in that artificial realm and among those people, all of whom were still so real in every perceivable sense. There was an entire civilization waiting inside that computer, waiting for . . .
“Waiting for us,” she exclaimed. “Captain, the Nejamri. They need our help.”
Picard replied, “We know, Lieutenant. Commander La Forge and his people are already working with the Nejamri engineers who came with you, trying to figure out how to repair the damage to the Osijemal.”
“You don’t understand, sir,” replied Chen, shifting so that she could place her feet on the floor in preparation for leaving the bed. “Their power. It’s their power that has to be restored, and fast.”
“Geordi knows, T’Ryssa,” said Harstad, resting a hand on her shoulder. “You did everything you could. Let Geordi and the others take it from here. You need to rest.”
Picard said, “Mister La Forge has already redirected his team’s efforts back to solving the power restoration issue.” He paused, as though gathering his thoughts. “It may prove a challenge, with the Torrekmat ships still nearby. They seem bound and determined to continue pursuing their salvage claim against the Osijemal.”
“The salvagers Alehuguet sent back with me,” said Chen. “Where are they?”
“Under confinement,” replied Picard. “Not the brig. We’ve given them quarters and they’re receiving meals, and Doctor Crusher has already verified that they also seem to be suffering no ill effects from their experiences.”
Chen nodded. “They’ve seen the Haven and at least some Nejamri, too. They know this isn’t just some derelict.”
Crusher said, “The other Torrekmat ship captain, Senthilmal, mentioned some kind of guild, of which his ship and the others were members. Surely they have rules or a code they follow when it comes to their work? Unless they’re simple pirates.”
“It may not be that simple,” replied Picard. “They’ve lost two ships and hundreds of people because of the Osijemal. We can’t count on them being so understanding.”
Pushing herself to a standing position, Chen tensed as a minor bout of dizziness manifested itself. It was enough to make her lean against the treatment bed. Inwardly, she cursed herself. There was no time for this. Too much was at stake, and she had no time for her own problems. Closing her eyes, she drew a deep breath and waited for the disorientation to pass.
“We have to try, sir,” she said, her voice taut. “I promised them. I promised . . . her.”
She imagined Alehuguet, standing in the center of that village she had seen upon her arrival in the Haven, the town square bustling with Nejamri enjoying the life they had fashioned for themselves while enduring their protracted journey to a new home. All of that now hovered at the edge of oblivion.
As was so often the case, Picard’s voice cut through her anxiety, asserting practiced, paternal calm.
“Then let’s make sure we don’t break that promise, Lieutenant.”
26
Centered on the viewscreen in the Enterprise’s conference lounge, Brinamar regarded the six members of the Zetoq boarding party. Picard had ordered them released from security confinement and brought here so that they might talk freely with the Torrekmat ship captain. While they remained under the watchful eye of Lieutenant Rennan Konya and a security team, none of them seemed interested in provoking a confrontation. The strategy of simply talking seemed to be working, at least for the moment.
“You are uninjured?” she asked. Her relief at seeing the boarding party alive and well was evident, which Picard chose to take as a good sign.
“We have been treated well,” replied Gerat, the group’s leader. Like his companions, the tall, lanky Torrekmat had been given Starfleet coveralls to wear in lieu of their cumbersome environmental suits and their other sweaty, filthy clothing. “First by the Nejamri aboard the Osijemal, and now by these newcomers.” He glanced to Picard before adding, “Their captain speaks the truth, Brinamar. The first thing they did upon our arrival here was verify that we were unharmed by our experience aboard the derelict. We have been fed and given comfortable quarters in which to rest.”
Picard, standing with Worf behind their Torrekmat guests, stepped closer to the screen. “And they are free to return to your vessel at any time. I also reiterate my earlier offer to render whatever medical or engineering assistance you may require.”
Clearly taken aback by this development, Brinamar replied, “You seem eager to offer aid now, Captain, whereas earlier you were doing your level best to destroy us.”
“No,” Picard said, refusing to be taken down this path. “The loss of your vessel and the Zetoq is the tragic result of our not communicating with one another. It is something I deeply regret, but when you attacked my ship you left me no alternative. Let us not compound that horrible mistake by making another. You’ve scanned the Enterprise, Brinamar, so you know its capabilities. I would prefer to help you rather than fight you.” He paused, considering his next words with care. “I also wish to help the Nejamri, and the truth is that I believe you can assist us in that effort.”
“These Nejamri,” said Brinamar, shifting her gaze to Gerat. “You are certain they are real beings, and not elaborate computer programs?”
Turning, Picard indicated for his other guest to approach the screen. A broad-chested Nejamri, dressed in the dark garment that to the captain seemed akin to a set of mechanic’s coveralls, made his way forward. Despite Picard’s still progressing familiarity with his species, the Nejamri’s orange features conveyed nervousness and uncertainty. It was obvious the engineer was uncomfortable being called upon to speak in this manner, let alone on behalf of sixty thousand of his fellow travelers. At Picard’s urging, he directed his attention to the viewscreen.
“My name is Yidemi,” he said. “I am part of the Nejamri community traveling aboard the Osijemal. It has been the only home we have known since before you were born. It protects us, and sustains us as it carries us to what we hope will be our new home. When you attack it, you attack my family. You forced us to defend ourselves, but we mourn the taking of life. On behalf of all Nejamri, I apologize for the loss of your people. We wish you no further harm.”
To her credit, Brinamar’s stance and expression softened upon seeing Yidemi, and Picard thought he may even have sensed a hint of embarrassment from the Torrekmat. To him, it was obvious she was struggling with conflicting emotions, troubled by the tremendous misunderstanding that had occurred here and the resulting loss of life. She doubtless counted friends among those caught up in the destruction of the two Torrekmat salvage vessels. The question now was whether she would let misplaced pride and a need to somehow avenge those deaths guide her next actions, or would she see the necessity in setting aside that tragedy in order to move forward?
To Picard’s considerable relief, Brinamar seemed to choose the latter.
“You must understand, I am a salvage merchant. It is a simple life, but one I enjoy. Most of our work is uneventful, never taking us beyond the boundaries of our own star system. Our claims tend to be disabled or abandoned merchant vessels and heavy equipment left behind on our system’s uninhabited planets, moons, and asteroids. I cannot truthfully say that no others in our guild have acted in dishonorable ways when conducting salvage, but I can say I have not. However, when Senthilmal transmitted information about your ship, I admit I was overcome by the possibilities it offered. A vessel such as yours represents more profit than my entire crew would otherwise earn during our lifetimes.” She paused, looking away from the screen and shaking her head. “But not this way.”
“It doesn’t have to be this way, Brinamar,” said Picard. “Not anymore. Help us help Yidemi and all his people on the Osijemal.”
Returning her attention to him, Brinamar sighed. “Even if I decide to assist you, I cannot speak for the other ships that are on their way here. There are those in the guild who will see this as a matter of seeking restitution for our lost ships and crews. They may also be tempted by the Osijemal, and even your vessel.”
