Star Trek: The Next Generation - 119 - Armageddon's Arrow

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Star Trek: The Next Generation - 119 - Armageddon's Arrow Page 31

by Dayton Ward


  “I cannot contact him,” Jodis said. “Our communications would almost certainly be intercepted by the Raqilan military, and our ruse would be exposed.”

  “Look, I really don’t care about any of this,” Crusher said, closing her tricorder and pointing to Konya. “We need to get Rennan back to our ship, now, and to do that we need to get him to the landing bay.”

  “No problem, Doctor,” said Lieutenant Jarata Beyn. The muscular Bajoran handed his phaser rifle to Ensign Chapman and stepped toward Crusher, Konya, and Harstad. “I can carry him.”

  “Carefully,” Crusher warned. “He’s in pretty bad shape.”

  Jarata smiled. “Worry not, Doctor. I’ll treat him as though he was my baby nephew.”

  “There are still elements of the Golvonek security detachment scattered across the ship,” Jodis said. “They will attempt to stop you.”

  “That’s what we’re for,” replied Šmrhová.

  Another alert tone pinged from the central tower, more ominous than any of the other indicators Chen had heard from the Arrow’s various shipboard systems.

  “What is that?” she asked. She could tell from the way Jodis was frantically tapping at the console that something unexpected—or worse—was happening.

  “The computer has enabled a new protocol, one with which I am unfamiliar.”

  Stepping toward the tower, Chen eyed the workstation. “You’re kidding, right? What kind of protocol are we talking about?”

  “I do not know.” Jodis did not look away from the monitors, his fingers sweeping across the console with a practiced speed and dexterity.

  Chen pointed to one monitor. “There. What’s that?” Following her guidance, Jodis highlighted a portion of computer-generated text. She leaned closer, and frowned. “Is that a security program of some sort?”

  “It appears so.”

  Moving to stand on Jodis’s opposite side, Bnira studied the monitors. “Jodis, that is a contingency protocol, but I don’t recognize it.”

  “That is because it is not a standard component of the ship’s computer,” Jodis said. After entering more commands to the console, he gestured to another monitor. “This procedure was executed from a clandestine partition installed in the central computer core. It was not intended for us, but rather for the computer itself.” He looked to Chen. “Another of the automated processes overseeing ship functions.”

  “And what does it do?” Chen asked.

  Bnira replied, “Its mandate is to carry out our mission as though the crew was dead, incapacitated, or otherwise unable to function.”

  “You can’t be serious,” Crusher said. Chen glanced in her direction and saw the doctor standing with Cruzen, Harstad, and Jarata, the latter cradling the wounded Konya in his oversized arms.

  “I am afraid so,” Jodis answered, his gaze still fixed on the instruments. “I am attempting to circumvent the process, but it was designed to defeat such measures.”

  “What are you saying?” Cruzen asked. “Tell me you’re not saying what I think you’re saying. You’re saying the computer’s going to fire the cannon at the planet anyway?”

  In response to the lieutenant’s query, another status monitor flared to life, illuminated by rapidly changing Raqilanscript in what Chen recognized was a numeric sequence.

  “That’s what he’s saying.” Chen pointed to the monitor. “And that’s a countdown.”

  31

  Seated at one of the computer terminals in the Enterprise’s engineering section, Taurik waited for the starship’s systems to complete their connections. Despite the obvious differences in technology between the ship’s main computer and that of the Arrow, interaction on a limited level was possible thanks to the interface process created by Lieutenant Dina Elfiki. That protocol already had served Doctor Crusher and her medical team during their efforts to revive Jodis and his crew from hibernation, and Taurik now hoped it would aid him in being able to convince the Arrow’s computer not to undertake a horrific action.

  “You should be tied in now, Taurik,” said the voice of Lieutenant T’Ryssa Chen over the intercom system. The communications jamming effect had been neutralized aboard the Arrow, and Taurik found himself pleased to hear his friend’s voice.

  “The connection is complete,” Taurik said after a moment.

  “There we go,” added Commander La Forge, who stood behind him and watched as Taurik worked. When Chen’s call for aid had come over the communications channel, the chief engineer had wasted no time putting his assistant to work. Despite his own formidable skills, La Forge was deferring to Taurik’s superior computer expertise while standing ready to help.

  Studying the new strings of data that had coalesced on the workstation’s monitor, Taurik said, “This encryption scheme is inconsistent with the rest of the software installed to the Arrow’s main computer. I recognize none of the embedded keys or signatures.”

  “Yeah,” Chen replied, “tell me about it. Whatever this is, it’s a completely different animal, and whoever installed it knew what they were doing. I’ve been through the central core three or four times by now, and I never even saw the partition where this thing was hiding.”

  “Understandable, as it likely was designed to avoid detection.” Taurik scrolled through columns of Raqilan computer text, seeing nothing that appeared to be of any use in circumventing the security measures encoded to this new algorithm. “It is a remarkable example of programming.”

  “You can admire it later,” Chen replied. “Any ideas on how to beat it?”

  Taurik said, “Not yet. This may take some time.”

  “I don’t think it’s going to wait around.”

  Leaning closer to the workstation, La Forge said, “You’re saying that even Jodis doesn’t have a way to get around this thing?”

  “Jodis didn’t even know about it until it was triggered, and it’s wired into everything. He thinks someone in their resistance cell had it implanted as a failsafe in case he and his crew changed their minds at the moment of truth, or something. It’s like a whole other master control protocol designed to replace the main operating system in the event of . . . whatever pisses it off, I guess.”

  “That may be the key.” Seeing segments of the programming code that looked promising, Taurik highlighted and isolated those sections from the rest of the stream. “However, I am hampered somewhat, as part of the system’s defense mechanism is to guard against remote intrusion. I am encountering numerous obstacles the deeper I penetrate into the software.”

  Chen’s grunt of irritation filtered through the intercom. “I was wondering about that. I don’t think I can stop that, so just do the best you can. If you see something, you can always guide me as I go after it directly from here.”

  “Very well,” Taurik replied. His primary concern was not that he and Chen, working with Jodis and Bnira, would not be able to defeat the computer protocols, but that they would fail to do so in time to prevent the Arrow’s particle cannon from destroying the Raqilan homeworld. He wondered if the people down on the planet knew or had been told of the current predicament. Logic suggested that notifying the populace of its own imminent extinction might lead to mass panic and a breakdown of civilization, government, and social services, but perhaps their culture and customs called for a gathering of family and other close friends when a death was at hand.

  None of that is of any consequence just now, Taurik reminded himself.

  “Engineering to bridge,” said La Forge. “Captain, we’re having trouble circumventing the Arrow’s computer lockouts. I don’t know if we can get this done in time.”

  “Keep working, Commander,” replied Captain Picard over the speaker. “If you’re unable to defeat the security, I’ll have to take more direct action.”

  “Such action may not be prudent, sir,” Taurik said. “According to my analysis, part of this measure�
�s protection scheme is direct access to shipboard scanners and defenses. It has registered the Enterprise’s presence within weapons range.”

  “We know. Worf is tracking its energy output, and I suspect it will react the instant we attempt to lock our weapons, but we’re about to be left with no choice. The Raqilan fleet has taken up position around the ship, as well.”

  “Jodis and Bnira have been able to counter its attempts to engage,” Chen said, “but I don’t know how much longer they can keep that up.”

  From the corner of his eye, Taurik saw La Forge lean toward the console again. “There,” he said, pointing to one portion of the computer scrawl. “What’s that right there?”

  Seeing what the commander had spotted, Taurik nodded in approval. “Yes, that may be it. Lieutenant Chen, I believe we have an access point to the encrypted subroutines.”

  “I’m all ears,” Chen replied. Then, because it was her, she added, “That’s right, I said it.”

  “Part of the scheme’s design is dependent upon it being able to infiltrate the rest of the computer network through ordinary processes, including low-level protocols which, while not critical, are still required throughout the rest of the system to facilitate operation.”

  “Right. It’s supposed to blend in.”

  “Precisely. Because of this feature, it should be possible to infiltrate the protected routines using a similar method, only in reverse. This will not work if we attempt it through any of the major processes such as weapons or navigation or life support, but we may be able to exploit something far more mundane and perhaps overlooked.”

  La Forge said, “Like trying to get into a house through a crack in the foundation.”

  Pausing to ponder the comparison, Taurik replied, “An inexact analogy, but sufficient for our purposes.” After another moment spend studying the computer data, he added, “This will still take time, perhaps more time than we have.”

  “Then we’re out of options,” Picard said. “Lieutenant Chen, warn the others.”

  * * *

  New alarms wailed throughout the engineering deck, and T’Ryssa Chen felt the ship shuddering around her. Even here, with nearly half the ship’s length between where she stood and the Arrow’s forward edge, the effects of the Enterprise’s renewed attack on the weapon ship could be felt.

  “Multiple strikes forward,” reported Bnira, standing next to Jodis at the central tower’s other remaining and still functional workstation. “There is massive damage to the particle cannon and surrounding hull sections.”

  “Can it still fire?” Chen asked.

  His eyes studying the cascading streams of data scrolling across multiple monitors, Jodis shook his head. “No, but it is still drawing energy from the power plant.” He pointed to one of the displays. “The encrypted protocols are executing some other measure.”

  “What’s left?” Chen studied the data, looking for some clue. When she saw it, she reached out to tap one of the display screens. “Right there. Look. It’s targeting something on the planet’s surface.”

  Bnira replied, “That is the largest city on our world, at least in this time. That region accounts for nearly twelve percent of the entire population.”

  “Okay, but what does it matter if the particle cannon is out of commission?” asked Lieutenant Cruzen. After dispatching the rest of the away team as well as Šmrhová and her rescue team back to the Arrow’s landing bay, she had remained, unwilling to leave Chen alone with the Raqilan as she worked to assist Jodis and Bnira.

  Chen saw another reading on the monitor devoted to the ship’s navigation, and then everything made total, horrific sense. “Oh, damn.”

  “The protocol is attempting to enter a course toward the planet’s surface,” Jodis said, “with the intention of using the ship as a projectile.”

  Chen called out, “Taurik, are you seeing this?”

  “Affirmative,” replied the Vulcan. “Captain Picard reports the other Raqilan ships are moving to intercept.”

  “They will not be able to stop us,” Jodis said.

  “This is Captain Picard. Lieutenant Chen, I want all of our people off that ship right now. Jodis, if you can’t alter your course, then we’ll have no choice but to fire.”

  Jodis replied, “Captain, their ships will be unable to inflict enough damage to prevent the ship from following this trajectory. We have to stop it here.”

  From the monitors, Chen saw the navigation system already laying in the new coordinates, and she heard the renewed thrum of the Arrow’s engines as it pushed the weapon ship forward. Studying the monitors with the computer text, she said, “Taurik, your idea of infiltrating the secured protocols; can we use that to interfere with the navigation system?”

  “Perhaps, but the ship will still be little more than an armed explosive with an active trigger. Unless or until we can completely override those processes, the ship is an imminent threat, and that is without considering the possibility that the secured routines do not contain measures to defeat our efforts.”

  “Always the optimist.” Looking to Jodis, Chen said, “We need to find a place to dispose of this thing that’s away from, well, everything.”

  Jodis nodded, and for the first time since the current crisis began, he smiled. “There is just such a suitable location.”

  “Assuming our infiltration is successful,” Taurik said, “we will need to monitor the process and be ready to make adjustments. That will require manual oversight and action.”

  Jodis said, “Understood. I will remain here to assist with the procedure.” Turning from the console, he said to Bnira, “Retrieve Foctine Vedapir, and tell him to send a shipwide broadcast to his people to evacuate immediately.” To Chen, he said, “You should go, as well.”

  “But I can help,” Chen protested.

  Over the still-open communications frequency, Captain Picard’s voice was unyielding. “Lieutenant, get to the landing bay for return to the Enterprise.”

  “Captain, it will take three of us to cover everything,” Chen said. “Navigation, propulsion, and just keeping the damned computer off our asses while we work. We can get where it needs to be, lock in its final course, and then get the hell out of here.”

  There was a pause, and she knew the captain was weighing whatever paltry options might be left to him. When he responded, his tone was softer. “Very well, Lieutenant, but stay only as long as absolutely necessary.”

  “Request permission to remain with Chen, sir,” said Cruzen. “She may need my help.”

  Picard replied, “Permission granted, Lieutenant. The away team is preparing to depart the Arrow aboard the shuttlecraft, but the portable transporter pad is still in the landing bay, and we’re locked on to its signal. The Enterprise will remain in transporter range for as long as necessary.”

  “It’s nice to be loved, sir,” Chen said. “We’ll continue to feed updates as appropriate.”

  “Keep this channel open.”

  Turning to Jodis, Cruzen asked, “Okay, now what?”

  32

  Beverly Crusher placed the hypospray against Rennan Konya’s neck and heard the pneumatic hiss as it discharged its medication into the lieutenant’s bloodstream. Within seconds, his eyes fluttered and opened, and he turned his head upon noticing Crusher sitting next to him.

  “Where am I?” he asked, his words slow and slurred.

  Crusher said, “On the Jefferies. We’re getting ready to head back to the Enterprise.”

  Frowning, Konya raised his head to look around, and she watched him take in their surroundings. He was lying on one of the couches in the rear of the shuttlecraft’s passenger area. The compartment was packed with equipment and members of the away team as well as Lieutenant Šmrhová’s security detail. “There are a lot more people here than I remember. What did I miss?”

  “A lot, my friend,” said
Lieutenant Jarata Beyn, sitting on the couch next to Konya’s head. “It’s been a rather exciting couple of hours.”

  “What?” Konya, still weakened from his injuries, failed in his attempt to push himself from the couch and let his head fall back against the cushion. “Did something heavy fall on me? I hurt everywhere.”

  “I’ve treated the worst of your injuries,” Crusher said, “at least enough to get us back to the ship. You’ll be fine once we get you to sickbay.” After treating the wounds he had sustained from the Golvonek grenade blast, she had opted against using the portable transporter pad to return Konya to the Enterprise. T’Ryssa Chen had warned that the Arrow, operating as it was under the protected contingency protocol that was fighting to assume total control of the ship, it might attempt to fire on the Enterprise as it drew to within transporter range. The Jefferies was the safer option for the away team’s extraction, so everyone had piled into the compact craft.

  “Great,” Konya said. “I can use the rest.” Reaching up with one hand, he touched the dermal patch Crusher had placed on his forehead as a replacement for the crude bandages she and Harstad had used. “How’s Doctor Harstad?”

  “I’m fine, Lieutenant,” she replied, sitting near his feet. “My leg’s going to be sore for a couple of days, but I’ll live.”

  “How’d I even get down here, anyway?”

  Jarata patted his shoulder. “You’re welcome.”

  The mock expression of annoyance and shame was enough to tell Crusher that Konya was feeling somewhat better. “Oh, wow. Moose? You’re going to make me pay for that, aren’t you?”

  “Indeed I am,” replied the muscled Bajoran. “And not for nothing, but I think you might want to talk to the doctor about a better diet. I suggest more fruits and salads.”

  A small, dry laugh escaped Konya’s lips, and he squeezed his eyes shut. “Don’t make me do that. Well, at least I avoided having Chen carry me.” That made him open his eyes, and he turned his head, looking about the shuttle’s interior. “Wait, where is she?”

 

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