Foundations Book Three
Page 6
Using automation to free up their limited number of personnel was a natural step to take. Though the duotronic computer components originally installed in the Chandley and other Federation starships were not ideally suited to complete automation, the Kelvans’ expertise in software development rivaled their own engineering expertise. This, as much as the engine design that had been created and installed aboard the Chandley, had also piqued Starfleet’s interest.
“It appears that we did our job too well,” Tomar said. “The computer will not allow the engines to be brought online in their present state, I’m afraid.”
Moving closer to the science station, Scott tapped a control on the console. “Computer, display a schematic of the automated warp drive oversight systems on Science Monitor 1.”
“Working,” replied the stilted, feminine voice of the ship’s computer. Several seconds passed before the image on the science station’s leftmost viewscreen shifted to show the information Scott had ordered.
“What are you thinking?” al-Khaled asked.
Pointing to the monitor, Scott replied, “There has to be a way to bypass this thing. I’m not about to believe that we’re beholden to a collection of circuits and computer programs. We’ll find a way to trick this beastie, lad.”
“You can’t trick a computer, sir,” Talev said.
Scott snorted. “Sure ye can. Talkin’ a computer into doin’ something it doesn’t want to do is an art form, I’ll give ye that much. But it can be done.” Smiling at the Andorian, he added, “If ye dinna believe me, ye can just ask Admiral Kirk the next time ye see him.”
“You mean if we see him,” Talev said. Seeing the scowl her remark evoked from Scott, she quickly continued. “The software can be reprogrammed, yes, but we are talking about millions of lines of code.”
“So why not simply craft a workaround?” Scott asked. “Surely ye can do that?”
Thinking about that a bit, Talev replied, “Perhaps, though it may take some time.”
Nodding in the direction of the bridge’s main viewer, al-Khaled said, “I wonder what our friends over there will think of that.”
It was a valid question, Scott conceded. The Lutralians had been patient to this point, allowing the Chandley crew to perform their repairs unobstructed. But Scott knew that their patience would not hold out forever. They had already expressed disdain over requests for their assistance, and there was no way to anticipate how a call for more time would be received.
What Scott also had to concede, though, was that he and his companions had no choice. If they were going to get home, then they would need more time to finish their work.
He shook his head, temporarily dismissing the concerns. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” He pointed to Talev. “Come, lassie. Let’s see about convincin’ this computer to do things our way.”
* * *
Much to Scott’s pleasant surprise, Talev’s expertise as a computer specialist proved more than equal to the challenge of circumventing the warp drive oversight system.
“Fourteen minutes, twenty-six seconds,” he said as he consulted a chronometer at the science station. “A very nice piece of work, Lieutenant. Very nice indeed.” Though he himself was no expert in computer programming, Scott had spent enough time with such specialists in his career to appreciate their skill.
Like engineers of other disciplines, the best software developers understood the rules relating to their chosen field of endeavor, and by extension knew where those same rules could be bent, broken, or just plain ignored. Talev zh’Thren was obviously of this mold, Scott decided. Forgoing the verbal command set commonly used to interact with the computer, the Andorian had set to work in the customary manner of most programmers, working directly with the science station’s primary interface console. Scott had been hard-pressed to keep up as he watched long strings of commands scroll past the edges of the display monitor in response to Talev’s fingers moving in a near blur over the keyboard. Regardless of what he might think of her personality, there was no disputing her technical talents.
“Thank you, Commander,” the lieutenant replied, and Scott noted more than a bit of pride in her voice. “I have to admit, I did not think such a workaround was possible, at least not in such a short time. The solution was rather simple when I started looking for it, however.” Shaking her head, she added. “I almost looked past it completely.”
Though she had not completely lost the arrogant streak that had dominated her personality at their first meeting, Scott thought he detected a distinct mellowing in the Andorian’s attitude. Of course, having to be rescued from dying in space combined with being taught something about her chosen specialty by someone admittedly less skilled than herself would certainly contribute to such a shift in outlook. He could only hope that this mission, if they were successful and able to return home, had provided Talev with a valuable learning experience and an opportunity for growth as not only a Starfleet officer and an engineer, but also as just an ordinary person.
“The engines are free to activate,” Tomar reported from the bridge’s engineering station. “Engineering reports they are ready to begin the start-up sequence. Warp drive will be available in thirty-four minutes.”
Indicating Talev with a nod, Scott replied, “Well, the good lieutenant has done her part, and we still have a bit o’ work to tend to before we can think about leaving. Shall we see to it?”
Chapter
6
Talev zh’Thren was sure of one thing: she did not want a command of her own.
Sitting in the center seat on the Chandley’s bridge, watching as others performed more meaningful tasks around her, she knew that she should feel pride at being given the conn. While Hanar, Tomar, and the others were down in engineering taking care of the final adjustments of the ship’s distressed warp engines, she had been tasked with seeing to the welfare of the ship’s overall operation. Everyone on the bridge, or on the entire ship for that matter, would turn to her for a decision so long as she occupied the captain’s chair. Such power did have its allure, she had to admit. Besides, Hanar would not have placed her in this position were she incapable of carrying out her duties.
So why did she not embrace this responsibility?
Other Andorians had made fine Starfleet captains, she knew, some of them having served with distinction. The Andorian captain of a Federation science vessel had recently ordered her ship’s destruction after a Klingon attack rather than allow the vessel to fall into enemy hands. Her actions had been in keeping with the highest standards of both Starfleet and her own people, and would almost certainly inspire many young people, of Andorian heritage as well as a myriad of other races, to pursue their own dreams of one day captaining a starship.
Many young people, yes, but not Talev zh’Thren.
She was reasonably sure she knew why, of course. Having never been comfortable around other people, the idea of being responsible for the actions of others was something that had never appealed to her. Talev much preferred the solace of machines, who only spoke the words programmed into them in response to situations as dictated to them by living beings. Machines did not have feelings or other personality quirks that served only to impede the efficiency of her work. She did not have to worry about offending a computer like she did with other officers, especially humans, who to her seemed able to take offense at the slightest provocation.
Is it always them? Or is it you?
Despite the way her initial meeting with Commander Scott had gone, the seasoned engineer had wasted no time calling on her technical expertise in solving their current problems. Any ill feelings he might have harbored toward her had been dismissed for the sake of the mission. Though Scott’s computer skills were not as extensive as her own, he had still been able to devise a scheme to override the propulsion computer systems, systems she herself had played a hand in designing and implementing. A lesser person might have used that opportunity to gloat over her mistakes, but Scott had instead co
mplimented her on her ability to improvise a workaround for the computer software.
The same had happened with Commander al-Khaled, who had chosen her to accompany him outside the ship for the repair operation. She knew that he had been at least partially motivated by a desire to perhaps humble her a bit. However, she also had to believe that the commander would not have placed himself at risk by undertaking a dangerous mission with someone he did not trust, and he had literally saved her life to boot.
After all of that, Talev was certain of one thing: the past several hours had given her much to think about in regard to her interactions with fellow engineers and officers.
“Lieutenant zh’Thren,” Jahn called from the communications station. “We are receiving an incoming hail from the Lutralian ship.”
Feeling a knot tighten in the pit of her stomach, Talev acknowledged the order with a nod. There could be only one reason why the alien captain would be contacting them now, after all. She shifted in the command chair and straightened her posture, hoping that she appeared more confident than she actually felt.
“On screen.”
As the intimidating features of the Lutralian commander again filled the main viewer she said, “Captain Nrech’lah, I am Lieutenant zh’Thren, temporarily in command. How may I help you?”
“We have waited for you to complete your repairs, Lieutenant, but our patience wears thin.”
Talev’s first instinct was to tell the Lutralian captain what he could do with his patience, thin or otherwise. However, she was sure that Commander Scott would most definitely not approve. Instead, she said, “I understand your concerns, sir, and I assure you that we are proceeding with all haste to finish our work.”
“Our Central Command has been notified of your presence here, and they have classified your vessel as a hazard to navigation. If you are unable to leave under your own power, my orders are to destroy your ship.”
Now what was she supposed to do? Talev was no diplomat, and if she had little patience for the niceties of regular social interaction, she had even less for the bloated flowery extensions of language normally employed by stuffy politicians. As difficult as such an admission might have been before today, she had no problem coming to terms with the fact that she was out of her depth right now.
To the viewscreen she said, “Captain, if you would grant me the necessary few moments, I need to consult with my superiors.”
Nrech’lah considered the request for several seconds before nodding tersely. “Very well, but do not take too long.”
Turning in her seat, Talev made a motion for Jahn to mute the signal before tapping a control on the arm of the command chair. “Zh’Thren to Commander Scott.”
“Go ahead, Lieutenant,” Scott’s voice said a second later, and Talev noted that the veteran engineer sounded harried, no doubt from his and the others’ feverish attempts to finish the final repairs to the Chandley’s engines. With that in mind, she wasted little time bringing Scott up to speed on Captain Nrech’lah’s latest ultimatum.
“We need another fifteen minutes or so down here, lass. You’ll just have to stall him until then.”
Talev would not have been more shocked if Scott had smacked her across the face. “Commander? Surely you don’t mean that I should engage him in some sort of diplomatic dialogue.”
“I dinna care how ye do it, Lieutenant, but find me fifteen minutes.” As if sensing her uncertainty, the engineer added. “Listen to me, Talev. You’ve already done everything you can to get us out of here with your hands, now use your head to get us the rest of the way. Just do me a favor and keep that famous Andorian ire in check, would ye?”
“As humans are occasionally fond of saying, Commander, that is easier said than done. But I’ll do my best, sir. Zh’Thren out.” The connection was severed and she exhaled audibly.
Fifteen minutes. He may as well have asked for fifteen years.
She nodded to Jahn to reestablish connection with the Lutralian ship. “Captain, I have been informed by my superiors that we will be ready to depart in only a few of our minutes. You have my word that we will leave your space as soon as the repairs are complete.”
When Nrech’lah did not reply, Talev considered what else she might say. How would a politician proceed at this point? Say something dull and sycophantic while using entirely too many words in the process, no doubt. Diplomats were experts at ingratiating themselves to others.
“Captain, as this is the first time our two peoples have encountered one another, we view this as an historic occasion. Perhaps there is something that we could take back to our leaders on your behalf, something that would give them a better understanding of your people and your culture?”
On the viewscreen, Nrech’lah smiled slightly. “You stand before me with a defenseless vessel, knowing that I may destroy it and you as well, and yet you still manage to maintain your bearing. Bravery is a trait we admire. Tell me, alien, are you experienced in speaking as a representative of your people?”
Hardly, Talev thought. To Nrech’lah, however, she said, “I must admit that it is not a specialty of mine. I suspect that you and I are alike in that we have little use for those who talk too much.”
To her surprise, Nrech’lah laughed heartily at her statement. “An excellent observation. I can appreciate the need for such skill, though I have no desire to cultivate it myself.”
Not daring to hope she might have made some kind of breakthrough with the Lutralian ship commander, Talev knew that at the very least she was buying Scott and the others a few precious minutes. Mindful of that, she decided to test the waters further.
“Perhaps we could discuss our mutual dislike of politicians, Captain,” she said, making up the entreaty as she went. “It is a custom of many races in our Federation to share stories with friends, over a meal, for example. My commander is otherwise occupied at the moment, but I am sure he would have the time to meet with you, if you would accept my invitation to transport to our ship for dinner.”
Nrech’lah laughed again, though this time he shook his head and the laugh was not as warm. “It is an intriguing offer, but I am afraid I must decline. After all, I suspect you are not naïve enough to overlook the possible advantage of taking me hostage.” Regarding the Andorian for a few more seconds, though, he added, “However, I will allow you to transfer over to the Durgejiin.”
“Forgive me, Captain, but how do I know you won’t take me hostage?”
Shrugging, Nrech’lah said, “Capturing you would be a waste of time, alien, especially when my orders are to destroy you.” The smile returned, though this time it was the smile of someone who knew he was in command of the situation. “I am committing a breach of those orders by delaying that action, however, so the least you could do is honor my request.”
How much more time did Scott need? Could she buy them the extra few minutes, and possibly more, by undertaking this risky scheme? Her gut told her that Nrech’lah was being truthful in telling her that she would be safe. The Lutralians could have destroyed the Chandley a dozen times over by now. Despite her misgivings, she had no choice but to explore the avenue that Nrech’lah was providing.
“When you put it that way, Captain, I feel obligated to accept.”
Nodding, Nrech’lah replied, “Then I await your arrival.” With that the communication was severed and the viewscreen image returned to that of the Lutralian ship.
“Are you really going over there?” Jahn asked. “Do you want a weapon? You saw the looks he was giving you, Lieutenant. I don’t think I’d trust him to act in the most honorable fashion.”
Talev shook her head. “I can take care of myself.” Shrugging, she added. “Besides, if he tries anything I know I’ll just bounce him off the bulkheads until Commander Scott is ready to leave.”
“Not a very diplomatic solution,” Jahn countered.
“Call it Andorian diplomacy.”
* * *
As she stepped out of the small shuttlecraft that had taken her
across space to the Lutralian ship, the first thing Talev saw was the two hulking figures, their body armor and weapons suggesting that they were the equivalent of a ship’s security detail.
“You are to come with us,” one of the guards said. Talev noted no malice in the order, though there was firmness behind the words that indicated the guards would not appreciate refusal. Their weapons were holstered, indicating that they did not consider her a threat. So far, it appeared that Nrech’lah was honoring his word not to harm her.
She nodded to the guards, who flanked her as they led her from the cargo hold into which she had piloted the shuttlecraft. The room itself was cluttered with containers and various equipment, most of it unrecognizable to her. Talev noted that although the chamber appeared to be utilitarian in purpose, the components and tools stored here seemed to be clean and well maintained. That suggested an orderliness and pride in work ethic to the young engineer, a notion that was strengthened as she was led into a corridor and deeper into the ship. The passageway itself was immaculate. Uniforms worn by the Lutralian crewmembers were meticulously tailored, with polished metal buttons, buckles, and other accessories. The military atmosphere of the Durgejiin was unmistakable.
Following the guards up a series of stairs, Talev wondered if she were being taken to the ship’s command center. She found that unlikely. Perhaps a conference room or reception area, then. Her theory appeared to gain credence when the guards stopped before a pair of polished metal doors, both of which sported a multicolored ornamental crest unlike any of the markings she had seen elsewhere on the ship.
One of the guards reached out to a panel, which Talev recognized as a type of intercom control, set into the wall next to the door. “Captain, we have brought the alien as ordered.”