Available light, p.29
Available Light, page 29
“The last time we were required to wear environment suits for an extended period was during our investigation of the planet Ushalon,” said Taurik. Keeping his attention on his tricorder while tending to the regulator’s final set of configuration inputs, he added, “Of course, the dimensional shifting that world experienced only added to our difficulties.”
“Not a chance I could forget that,” replied Konya, looking over his shoulder and away from his work at the runabout’s open hull panel. “I still wonder what our counterparts in those other realities might be like, or what they’re doing.”
Discovering the rogue planet, alone in space and at the mercy of an unending, randomized sequence of abrupt transfers between three different dimensions, was one of the more interesting missions in which Taurik had taken part since joining the Enterprise crew. Ushalon and its unwilling inhabitants, a team of scientists and other members of a previously unknown race called the Sidrac, were victims of a technology experiment gone awry. Working from a theory postulating the existence of other universes and planes of existence, the Sidrac designed and constructed a massive complex to test their hypothesis and attempt a bridge to another dimension. The scientists lost control of their experiment, and only with assistance from the Enterprise—along with a version of the Enterprise-D from another dimension and time period as well as the crew of a Romulan warship pulled from yet another reality and era—were Ushalon and the Sidrac returned to their own universe.
“I also have given that much consideration,” replied Taurik. “The possibilities are quite intriguing. However, I believe now is not the best time to engage in such speculation. Once our business here is concluded and the Nejamri’s situation is secured, I would be interested in revisiting the topic. Perhaps we can do so in a social setting, such as the Riding Club.”
“Taurik,” said Konya, “are you suggesting we grab a couple of drinks after work?” The Betazoid turned from his work at the Araguaia, his smile clearly visible even through the slight tint of his helmet’s face shield.
Despite the illogical nature of the current conversation, Taurik knew it was a means of easing tension in some humanoid species. In Konya’s case, the Vulcan suspected it was a method of coping with the fact that his romantic partner, T’Ryssa Chen, was once more undertaking a risky mission while working to help the Nejamri. The lieutenant was not in a position to help her, and so therefore was attempting to maintain control of his own anxiety.
Using one gloved finger to enter a final set of instructions to the regulator’s control pad, Taurik said, “I believe it would be a stimulating conversation, and I have no objections to you enhancing your participation by consuming spirited beverages. I suspect T’Ryssa would enjoy taking part as well.”
“We could make it a double date,” said Konya, his tone now more boisterous. “Who will you bring?” As soon as he asked the question, his expression changed. “I’m sorry, Commander. I didn’t mean to—”
Taurik replied, “No apologies are necessary, Lieutenant.” He suspected Konya’s sudden discomfort stemmed from the fact that prior to her romantic partnering with him, Chen and Taurik also shared an intimate relationship. Though that coupling had ended and he remained friends with her, Taurik also understood that not all humanoids viewed such interactions with the same degree of objectivity or logic.
“Okay, Commander,” said Konya, his tone turning more serious. “I’ve completed my final checks. Ready to go on this end.”
An indicator flashing on his tricorder informed Taurik his last set of instructions to the regulator had been processed, and he returned the device to its holster on his right hip. “T’Ryssa, the regulator has been configured and we are standing by to connect to the Nejamri power systems.”
“All right, Taurik,” replied Chen, with the help of the Nejamri technology allowing her to interface and communicate using the frequency shared by the rest of the away team.
Konya, already climbing inside the Araguaia’s open hatch, disappeared from sight but his voice was still clear over the channel. “I’m ready to bring the mains back online at your order, Commander.”
So far as Taurik could tell, all that could be accomplished from this location was completed. Nothing else could be done until Chen and the Nejamri did their part. Though he was not prone to such things as superstition and other bizarre points of human interest, he understood the comfort it brought his friends. It was therefore logical to invoke it during times of stress or uncertainty.
“Good luck, T’Ryssa.”
• • •
Five ships, largely identical to the previously encountered Torrekmat salvage vessels save for assorted modifications or signs of repair, were centered on the Enterprise bridge’s main viewscreen. Arrayed in a loose wedge formation, one ship moved at the head of the group while the other four trailed behind it to either flank, alternating between flying above and below the lead ship’s plane of approach. It was a grouping from which various other, more aggressive tactical options were available, depending on the situation. As a Starfleet Academy cadet a lifetime ago, Picard learned to pilot smaller craft participating in such formations, or defending against them. For someone possessing even modest strategic skill, it was a simple configuration to employ and from which to launch any number of offensive gambits.
Standing just behind the conn and ops stations, Picard studied the oncoming craft. “Weapons capabilities?”
Behind him at the tactical station, Aneta Šmrhová replied, “More or less the same as the other Torrekmat vessels, sir. One to one, we outmatch them, but the numbers favor them in any prolonged engagement.”
“We’re not going to let it get that far,” said Picard. “Place phasers and quantum torpedoes on ready status. As soon as those vessels are within range, target each of their engine sections and be ready to fire on my command.” He was still hoping to attempt reasoning with the new arrivals, but if that proved impossible, then he had every intention of ending any resulting skirmish as quickly as possible.
At his left side, Worf asked, “A preemptive strike, sir?”
“We’ve gone through this twice now, Number One. They’ve had every chance to see that we don’t want a confrontation. If this Crelin insists on fighting despite Brinamar’s apparent attempts to convince him otherwise, I don’t plan on giving him the first punch.” Stepping forward, he placed a hand on the flight controller’s chair. “Conn, you’ve seen how these ships perform. Be ready for offensive maneuvers on my order.”
Back at her station following her brief sojourn to the Osijemal, because Picard now preferred her along with the rest of his alpha shift bridge officers to be at their stations, Lieutenant Joanna Faur replied, “Aye, sir. I’ll be ready.”
“Captain,” said Šmrhová. “We’re being hailed by the lead ship.”
Exchanging glances with Worf, Picard replied, “On screen.”
The image before him shifted to that of a large, muscular Torrekmat male. Unlike his counterpart, Senthilmal, this specimen had no hair on his head, and his yellow eyes stared out from beneath a heavy brow. Behind him, members of his crew worked at various stations in a well-worn bridge. Ripped upholstery on chairs and scuffed and disassembled consoles were evident, and Picard could even see refuse scattered on the deck. As for the Torrekmat before him, like Brinamar he also sported an intricate white tattoo stretching across the lavender skin of his wide forehead. The design was different from Brinamar’s, but Picard thought he noted some commonalities. Was it perhaps a religious or some other ideological marking?
“Crelin, I presume?” he asked.
The Torrekmat glowered at him. “I am. You must be Captain Picard. Brinamar has told me a great deal about you, and I have also reviewed the report Senthilmal dispatched before his ship was destroyed.”
“A regrettable tragedy, I assure you.” Picard stepped closer to the viewscreen. “Believe me when I tell you it is an incident I don’t want to see repeated. We have already struck an arrangement with Brinamar and her crew, including a handsome payment for her assisting us with the Osijemal.”
Crelin appeared unmoved by the comments. “You refer to the derelict, to which Senthilmal staked a valid claim under our law.”
“I have no doubt Senthilmal believed his claim was legitimate at the time he discovered the ship, which indeed was adrift and seemingly abandoned. Only later was the truth about its crew and passengers revealed.”
As before, Crelin offered no hint of understanding or caring. “Yes, I am familiar with Brinamar’s rather surprising tale. I admit I find it all very hard to believe, but she mentioned you were quite generous with your payment for her services. I can appreciate someone who conducts business with integrity.” He leaned forward, his expression taking on an air of menace. “For that reason alone, I offer you one opportunity to take your vessel and leave. Senthilmal was my friend, newcomer, and I mean to honor his claim on this derelict. If you interfere, then I will claim your ship, as well.”
Picard gestured as though pointing toward the Osijemal. “There are over sixty thousand people aboard that ship. We are attempting to help them, and Brinamar is assisting us in that effort. If you do the same, then I am more than happy to arrange payment just as I did with her.”
“Whatever you have to offer cannot be worth more than that ship, Captain.” Crelin’s eyes narrowed. “Even your own vessel does not appear to approach its value, but I am content to seize it and find out. As for the derelict, we will determine the truth about its crew, if indeed they exist, and proceed from there.”
Shaking his head, Picard said, “Senthilmal and Brinamar said the same thing. Brinamar realized the error she committed, but Senthilmal didn’t, and we both know what happened. Learn from your friend’s mistakes, Crelin. We do not need to be enemies here.”
“I gave you your chance, newcomer.” The muscled Torrekmat leaned toward the screen, glaring at Picard. “You wish to defy me. Very well. I will claim your ship for my friend, and see to it that his family is given some small compensation for his loss.”
The transmission ended, returning the viewscreen’s image to that of the approaching Torrekmat ships.
“Damn,” said Picard, scowling. It was all so stupid and wasteful, and potentially life-threatening with respect to the Nejamri. “We don’t have time for this nonsense. Lieutenant Šmrhová, how soon until they arrive?”
“Eleven minutes, forty seconds, sir.”
Turning to Worf, Picard released an irritated sigh. “All hands to battle stations, Number One.”
31
So, this is what a moth feels like.
The errant thought almost made Chen laugh as she, along with Elfiki, Alehuguet, and Yidemi, moved as if flying between rows and planes of electronic circuitry. Relays, junctions, switches, ports, indicators, and myriad other equipment seemed gigantic as they moved deeper into the Haven’s virtual representation of the Osijemal’s systems. She was reminded of stories about the first generation of computers on Earth during the twentieth century, with their assortments of vacuum tubes and panels of electrical wiring that attracted, along with dust and other irritants, small visitors. Drawn by the light and hum emanating from the tubes, curious moths and other winged insects often met unfortunate ends in such circumstances, and on occasion even caused the computer to malfunction.
Let’s hope we have better luck, Chen mused.
“This is incredible,” said Elfiki, her expression conveying her obvious wonder in response to their extraordinary tour of the ark ship’s innards. “Imagine the uses technology like this could have for science, exploration, medicine. Doctors already use holographic representations to get more informed views of their patients’ internal organs. But being able to put yourself right at the site of an operation, no matter how small, and do the work as if you’re actually there? Or being able to examine some ancient artifact or piece of alien technology. We can do that with holodecks, but you’re still not interacting with the actual object.”
Chen smiled. “Don’t get too caught up in all of this. We still have some work to do, and not much time to do it.” Taurik’s last reminder warned her and Elfiki that fewer than ten minutes remained until the Torrekmat vessels arrived. According to her friend, Captain Picard believed there would be another confrontation with a group of aggrieved salvage merchants. Despite the Enterprise’s larger size and more formidable weaponry, five against one were long odds. Plus, Chen was not yet fully convinced Brinamar and her crew along with that of her companion ship would—at the moment of truth—opt to side with the Enterprise rather than maintain allegiance with their fellow salvage merchants.
Captain Picard’s handling it, she reminded herself. You just do your job.
“We are here,” announced Alehuguet, even as Chen sensed her forward motion slowing. They had moved to float before a massive construct onto and into which numerous conduits and other components converged. Even though the size differential was vast, she still recognized the pattern of Nejamri electronic circuit pathways and relays from the equipment she studied during her first visit to the Osijemal.
Likewise, the sections of melted composite materials and the ominous patch of black scoring that covered a large portion of the hub were also familiar. She and Elfiki had studied a diagnostic schematic of this system prior to their transport into the Haven. What was a small mark on a display screen now appeared more than a dozen meters in diameter, the center of its irregular shape hinting at the origin point for the fault that had disabled this component.
“I swear,” said Chen, “this is like crawling around inside one of the Enterprise’s warp nacelles.”
Elfiki replied, “I can’t say I’ve ever done that.”
“You should hang out with me more often. It’s one of the benefits of being a contact specialist aboard a starship that spends weeks or even months between first-contact situations.” Chen offered her friend a wry smirk. “Worf and Commander La Forge are always finding odd jobs for me to do.” Rather than resent the additional duties, Chen had come to enjoy the opportunities to learn about various shipboard systems unrelated to her primary responsibilities. Her increased knowledge and expertise in a number of different areas enabled her to help find solutions to more than one problem and even the occasional crisis or two.
And it makes you the perfect candidate for crazy ideas like this one.
“We will have to revise the processes overseeing this portion of the relay system to bypass the damaged elements and reroute intact connections through this point,” said Yidemi, gesturing toward filaments—which to Chen appeared thicker than the Enterprise’s warp core—running to and from the marred component. “My analysis indicates this can be done via reprogramming and without the need to replace physical components, at least until a proper repair can be made. We simply have to correctly choose the new pathways linking the relays.”
“Sounds easy enough,” said Chen. “What’s the catch?”
The engineer regarded her with skepticism. “In theory, it should be a simple task, given our ability to directly interface with the ship’s various autonomous systems from within the Haven. However, considering the widespread problems across multiple Osijemal systems and the still uncertain nature of linking your technology to ours, we must exercise care if we are to avoid inflicting further damage.”
“If I understood you correctly at your briefing,” said Elfiki, “this isn’t a single fix. We may have to make adjustments on the fly even as the power transfer gets under way.”
“That is correct, Lieutenant.”
Chen tried to lighten the moment. “Sounds like fun.” The comment earned her a befuddled expression from Yidemi and a playful slap on the arm from Elfiki.
“Okay,” said the science officer. “What do we do?”
Without replying, Yidemi turned to face the damaged components. As Chen and Elfiki watched, he closed his eyes and his body went limp as energy coalesced around him. It formed a cylinder with the engineer at its center, darkening almost to black as smaller strings of energy began cascading through it. The streams rushed past like a blur, some pausing before resuming their fall while others separated and moved from string to string, or created still more filaments of their own.
“It’s an interface,” said Elfiki. “He’s accessing and reconfiguring the computer’s underlying programming code.” She shook her head. “I mean, sure, it’s happening somewhere inside this box or whatever, but it’s still him interacting directly with the rest of the machine.”
Awestruck by what she was witnessing, Chen looked closer and saw what Elfiki had recognized. The strings were actually scrolls of small blue script in what Chen recalled as one of the written Nejamri languages they had seen on console displays. Only now, watching the streams of text flying at a rate that was almost too fast to follow, she realized she was starting to see shifts from indecipherable text to words, figures, and other terms she could identify. Indeed, the more she studied the chaotic display, the more it seemed to slow, allowing her to read and comprehend.
“Oh my . . .” Her words caught in her throat.
Yidemi’s gaze was not on her but instead on various strings of data. He said, “You understand, yes? Entering the Haven means your consciousness is now a part of the system. This allows you to communicate and access all the information it contains. Your own translation protocols have helped us to understand you, and in return aided in forming a bridge between our languages, which is why what you now see appears familiar to you.”
As the Nejamri offered his explanation, Chen’s eyes widened in response to a similar column of energy forming around her. Within seconds she was surrounded by falling strings of information, even now more understandable than just moments earlier. Peering through the streams moving past her gaze, she saw Elfiki confronted by her own interface.
