EP 6 "ASSASSIN" - ACT II



COMMAND YACHT, UNKNOWN LOCATION

Even though the Captain's eyes had become accustomed to the dark, he couldn't see a single thing.  Before all light faded away, he had noticed only that the corridor was wide, but the darkness that now consumed him hid any signage or equipment that may have indicated exactly where he was.

On this unknown deck, the floor and walls felt dusty, and the air smelled stale and old.  If anything, the heat was a little high. Christian attempted to pop the control panel to the turbolift - thinking he would be able to override the door lock-out.  Unfortunately, his human nails were too weak to jemmy open this particular panel, bending and almost splitting with the effort.  The Captain's eyes were open so wide, his sockets began to ache, his eyelashes felt as if they were pulled right back, but he still couldn't see a thing.

The thought of exploring an unknown ship in the dark didn't thrill him, but neither was he prepared to sit on his hands and remain where he was - especially as he had no clue as to what had caused the ship to rock so violently.  He hadn't a clue as to what was taking place elsewhere.  Christian pressed himself up against the internal wall and slowly began to feel his way along.  He assumed he was progressing in a forward direction, but he couldn't be sure.  A sharp ridge of metal pricked the end of his fingers and he recoiled his hand quickly.  Crouching low he attempted to continue, but it seemed the entire wall from floor to ceiling was a twisted mess of metal.  It reminded him of the same kind of debris on the Captain's deck.

Unexpectedly, there was a sound.   Christian looked around in the pitch blackness, but couldn't hear more than his own short breaths and heart beating.   He thought it had come from further back down the corridor, beyond the turbolift: a muffled noise like a young deer stomping on dry, hollow earth.  His mind immediately returned to the skeleton of the spider he and Souveson had chanced upon.   "Where there's one, there's more…" he heard the Ensign's foreboding words echo in his head.

"Keep it cool, Christian," the young man whispered to himself, licking at the trace line of salty sweat above his top lip.

He stepped into the middle of the corridor, and progressed with his arms outstretched, taking small steps - each one made only after his pointed foot had swept a gentle arc for any obstructions.   Several metres later, he angled his way back to the wall.  It was smooth again, and he could continue on his way.  He hoped to reach a jeffreys tube or some device he could use to either signal his shipmates or generate light from.

'Thud-thud-thud-thud'.  The muffled heavy footsteps again.  'Definitely not human', Christian told himself.   At command school, Christian and the other trainees had been subjected to many bravery tests.   In fact, nearly all simulations involved some kind of risk - either to a ship, an alien race, crewmen under their command or to themselves.  Their metal was truly tested, and some trainees couldn't handle the pressure - less than half of the original group that had made it through basic training passed out at the end of the course, though many had not been quite ready and were fully expected to return again.

Christian drew on his experiences, remembering the pounding repetition of basic training his tutors had ingrained in him.   Putting aside personal risk, he pressed forward with greater urgency, keen to get out of this situation as quickly as possible while hoping that his haste wouldn't be his undoing.

* * *

COMMAND YACHT, MAIN BRIDGE

"Commodore."

Jackson turned toward the voice coming from the rear of the upper bridge.  To her surprise, it was Professor Karnak calling to her.  "What is it?"

The Commodore turned back to watch Murak's attempts to override engineering control as the slender olive-skinned woman replied out of her view.  "Sensors are detecting masses of localised ion radiation in this sector.   It is not possible for this vessel to proceed at warp speed for at least two hours."

"Good," Jackson wrung her hands.   "That gives us some time to regain control."

"However," the Vulcanised human female kept her tone neutral and steady.  "I am also detecting what appears to be a score of ships thirty seven point five minutes away on a direct intercept course."

"K'Tani?" Jackson demanded.

Karnak shook her head.  "Unknown at this range and with the amount of ionisation around us."

"Great," Jackson thought aloud, regretting her display of emotion immediately after she had spoken.   She wondered if her first time in the command seat would also be her last.  "Who was down in the Command Yacht engineering area?"

Murak looked up.  "Commander Leonard despatched Miss Warnerburg and Mister Hostas.  I believe they were accompanied by one of the Klingons for protection, I'm not sure who."

"It was Kluless," a large voice bellowed from the rear of the bridge.  Jackson (surpressing a smile) turned to face Karless, the strongest looking of the three Klingons who had come aboard.  He noticed her suppressed amusement.  "In our language it is an honourable name," he almost warned her.

"Of course, I'm sorry," she composed herself.

"My other jup was in main engineering back on the Command Section of the ship."   The man stepped forward, one gloved hand gripping his belt, the other clenching and releasing restlessly.   "Be assured, he would not have allowed a small… girl to get past him."  He had bared his crooked teeth on the word 'girl' and finished with the same snarling look.

Jackson scratched her chin with a delicate finger.   "That remains to be seen."   The man twitched, but did not challenge her words.  "Would you lead a team down to engineering to investigate?"

"I require no assistance, I shall proceed alone," the man strode towards the turbolift.

"Hold up, there.  I don't want anyone going anywhere on their own," the Commodore awkwardly pushed in front of the huge man.

"But Commodore-" the Klingon began, attempting his most polite tone, but clearly growing impatient.   His platitudes were swiftly arrested by the Commodore's upheld hand, once discreet nail varnish now chipped and totally indiscreet - almost akin to a Klingon woman's, the Commodore fleetingly thought.

"I'm in command here, mang," she said firmly, fixing her eyes upon his.   "Murak and Reb, go with him, see if you can regain control."

"Oh, joy," the half Ferengi was now thoroughly depressed.  His only thought was that if this K'Tani agent had managed to get past a Klingon warrior, a stringy man such as himself would hardly have any hope of protection.   Added to that, he had never got on with Klingons (they all hated Ferengi in his experience) and he just plain didn't trust the Romulans.

"On the double," Jackson prompted Reb, who scowled at both his compatriots and noticed Ganhedra nervously slide into his vacated seat as he left.  The turbolift doors didn't respond when approached.

"Here we go again," Reb sighed.   Looking back at the helm, he watched Ganhedra beckoning over a nearby Helan.  The elderly man pulled they young man close to whisper something.   The subordinate nodded - or was it a bow - and grabbed two other Helan as he ran forward into the observation lounge.

"Turbolifts are also locked out," Murak said while leaning over the engineering console.  He jumped down the few steps leading to the jeffreys tube.   Murak's journey was quickly cut short, as he discovered a bulkhead secured inside the shaft, just beneath deck one.  

"Somebody doesn't want us to leave this deck," he commented.

"We'll never shift those," Reb advised, peering over Karless's big shoulder into the jeffreys tube below.   The Klingon shot him a violent look for standing too close and Reb rapidly stepped away.   Being one of the main routes to the Bridge, Reb assumed the doors would be designed as virtually impenetrable once secured - but they clearly hadn't been designed with Klingon brutality in mind.   Boldly scoffing at Reb's words of defeat, Karless squeezed past Murak in the tight confines of the shaft, (almost crushing him as he twisted his heavy frame past) and cut through the circuitry and fluid tubes of the door's control mechanism with his d'ktahg.   The thick panels were then easily pried apart with the well-used blade.

A minute or so into their descent, Reb stopped.   "Wait, something isn't right here," the half-Ferengi felt the walls with his hands.

"What is it?" Murak halted, causing Karless, underneath him, to follow suit and throw his heavy-haired, multi-ridged head back, looking up at his weakling compatriots.

"Why have you stopped?" the Klingon demanded to Reb more than several metres above.

"He's found something," Murak passed the detail on to the large man beneath him.  He was careful not to show it, but inside the Romulan lad was deeply fearful of the Klingons.  As a young boy, Murak had heard many stories from his grandfather and great uncles about the Klingons' insatiable thirst for blood and victory.  Historically, the two races had never been at peace, and Murak's own family had met them face to face in battle on several occasions - all with the same fatal result.

"This is where deck 3 should be," Reb said, trying to see through the wall itself.  "There's a deck beyond these walls, I'm sure of it.   But I see nothing to indicate an access hatch or doorway."

"You are mistaken, Deck 3 is further down below me," Karless said, reading the signage beside the exit hatch under his feet.  "What makes you think there is a deck there?"

Reb looked up to the exit hatch for deck 2 above him, then looked back down.  "Actually, I'd estimate there's room for two decks between the jeffreys tube hatches for decks 2 and 3," he saw the Klingon's face becoming impatient.   "The echo off the shaft's walls is well pronounced to my ears."  He rapped on the shaft.  "There's definitely a deck on the other side."

* * *

In the darkness of his solitude, Christian heard a nearby dull thud, like someone knocking on a wall.  He moved toward it.

* * *

Reb climbed a few rungs and rapped again.   "See?  There's definitely a difference."  Murak frowned, not hearing the difference, despite his acute Romulan hearing.

* * *

Christian heard the noise again, and moved closer still.

* * *

"Bah!" Karless continued to descend.   "We have no time for this, come on."

Murak glanced up at Reb, then followed swiftly behind.   The half Ferengi felt along the ribbed walls of the jeffreys tube, he was sure there would be a way through.   A 'psst' sound from Murak concluded his investigation for now.

* * *

The noises had stopped.  Christian felt the walls for a doorway, but only discovered conduit housings sparsely arranged along the smooth walls.

"Hello..?" he called into the wall, half-heartedly at first.  "Hello!" he shouted louder, his voice echoing slightly off the corridor walls around him.

There was no response.  At last, a few paces further along the wall, he found a signage plate.  Luckily, the writing was in relief and he slowly, carefully traced each of the letters with his fingertips: LIFE SUPPORT SWITCH ROOM BETA FLANK.  The last two words made no sense, though he assumed they were a location reference of some kind.  Normally they would have displayed a deck and section number respectfully, but neither Beta nor Flank were helpful without a frame of reference.

His fingers found the door beside the sign, but unfortunately it was made of a single plate, its edges buried behind the wall on either side.  Strangely, there wasn't even a manual override.  There was no way he could get it open.

Thud, thud… thud.  The sound again, and it seemed to be following him.   His flesh crawled, his imagination creating all sorts of theoretical beasts in his mind.  "Shut up!" he told the creature as much as he told himself in order to concentrate on finding light or a way out.

* * *

COMMAND SECTION, ENGINEERING

Souveson's heart was pounding.   While all around her main engineering was a hive of activity, she herself was now very much elbowed into the side-lines.   She'd determined there was a major problem.  The flickering emergency lights and showers of sparks from expelled cables indicated power was clearly fluctuating.

As soon as the ship had stopped its violent roll, the young French Canadian Ensign had helped to extinguish fires and make casualties comfortable.  She had then been distracted by a nearby wall display flashing and bleeping loudly, conveying a graphical representation of the Command Yacht detaching from the rest of the vessel.  The remaining Command Section on the display was flashing red, indicating a state of emergency, though the forward 'dead-weight' passenger section it was attached to still remained grey and lifeless.

In trying to hail the bridge, she'd discovered comm systems were off-line.  She'd also heard someone shout that life support systems were quickly failing.   Now, the ship was gently rocking from time to time, as if adrift.  Leonard had managed to use thrusters to stabilise their trajectory and slow the ship, but not completely.

Two engineering volunteers had been carried away to the beauty spa come sick bay, both unconscious, and another four were screaming with pain from a variety of broken bones and lacerations.   Wheezy the Jetraleker had arrived to sort them out.  Leonard had despatched a team of three Helan along with Lieutenant O'Hara to the lower decks to try and find the two casualties who had fallen down the warp shaft - one could still be heard crying out from far below.

Out of the corner of her eye, Souveson caught a glimmer, like sunlight reflecting off sheer satin.  It was Lirik.

"Where are your charges?" the Ensign asked curtly.

The Yeoman, who was surveying the general melee turned and quickly glowered at her.  "They are safe in the medical area," he snapped, then added almost as an afterthought: "And drop the attitude, Ensign, we have a critical emergency in progress in case you didn't notice.  Commander," he strode towards the warp pit where coolant and an unknown inert gas were beginning to billow from beneath, clouding their view.

The Ensign trotted to catch up, eager to not be kept out of the picture.  As they both reached the rail surrounding the warp shaft, Leonard emerged as if an ancient Arian blacksmith from the ether of a magical forge, standing on the narrow grille of the pit that surrounded half the core.  The German had now ditched his jacket revealing his dirty vest, his strong pecs and muscles sucking the material close to his body with sweat, neat curls of blond nesting out from under the straining seams.

"The Command Yacht has gone," the Ensign quickly informed him.

"Obviously," Lirik scoffed.

"We have got a major problem," Leonard tried to be heard above the increasing hissing sounds.  "Warp and impulse engines have both taken a pounding.   Neither system had been safely isolated before separation took place, so the Command Yacht essentially ripped itself free.  There must have been a massive, uncontrollable feedback through the Command Section's interconnecting power junctions - it's blown main power and ruptured plasma conduits on deck 8 and eps taps throughout the ship.  Worse than that, the feedback came as far as the reaction control assembly and caused the dilithium crystals to be superconducted.  They are practically burnt out - I don't think they'll last more than 30 minutes, maximum and now re-crystalisation isn't possible in their fragile state.   We were lucky the injection valves shut off or the whole core would have gone into meltdown."   In between swirls of mist, Lirik caught a glimpse of the charred and damaged core and surrounding shaft.

"Lucky…?" Souveson didn't think the word applied.

Leonard ignored the youth.  "I recommend we switch to generators and initiate low energy consumption protocols effective immediately, try to conserve as much power as we can."

"Can't we switch over to the emergency warp system, or use its crystals?" Lirik nodded over to the emergency unit at the back of engineering.  It was partly in order to not look at Leonard.  They had got off to a very bad start back on Helub - but since he'd known the German, he'd come to like him more, and his awkward, unorthodox and often annoying manner was belied by his exceptionally handsome appearance.   It was becoming quite disarming.

"The EWS is almost impenetrable for security and safety reasons - it has to contain a small matter-anti-matter reaction core and the whole associated plant in one sealed unit.  There just hasn't been enough time to look into how to safely open it since it was last used," the Commander explained.   "Besides, as it's only designed for short bursts of warp speed, the components would fall short of being suitable replacements for main engineering systems, including the dilithium," he scratched his left pec and saw Lirik and Souveson looked blank.   "It wouldn't suffice."

Lirik nodded.  "How do you wish to proceed then?"

The Lieutenant Commander swept his hair back across his head with his big left hand and adjusted his glasses, casting a disturbed look down into the shaft.  The casualty's cries were growing weaker.

"As you know the generators have been in use already for over five years, at least as long as the Helan have been on board.   Consequently we only have several hours of generator power in which to make repairs, and even then I can't guarantee success.  The reaction chamber was stressed beyond safety parameters when the crystals were superconducted, so it's a lot more fragile than it was before.  I should be able to shore it up, but even then re-initialising the core won't be possible until we can find suitable replacement crystals."   The German snapped his fingers, "Although we could use the ones from the Hudson as a stop gap."

Lirik raised an eyebrow at this, but he realised there was no current alternative.  "One of the Vulcans is guarding her, he can help me remove the crystals.   Switch to generator power, then, and make best your attempts to repair the core."

Souveson puffed her cheeks and shook her head.   Lirik decided not to challenge her, though both men had clearly understood her apparent inexperienced misgivings.   Leonard acknowledged Lirik with a nod and returned beneath the fog.

"Ensign," Lirik turned to the smaller woman, who, he noticed, tensed as he spoke.  "As we are, this vessel is not secure.   I need you to establish whether or not the K'Tani agent is still on board.  Even if she isn't, she may have left boobitraps or sabotaged critical systems."

"But surely she was the one who took the command yacht?" Souveson frowned, sure of her reasoning.

"Possibly," Lirik wondered if the Canadian was up to the position Christian had given her.  "Nevertheless, we can't be certain, can we?   I want you to make a deck by deck search, leave no stone unturned."

The Ensign's mouth dropped.  "There's hardly anyone available," she said looking around at the volunteer engineers.  "It could take days."

Lirik carried on.  "So go to the beauty spa.  Conscript anyone you like - tell them it's Captain's orders.   Tell them their lives depend on it.   I don't care what, but just get them to help. "

Souveson shook her head, though was careful not to directly refuse.  "Unarmed?"

The Yeoman placed a hand on his hip.   "What do you want, Ensign?   I should go and replicate you some phasers?  Er, sorry!   No can do.  Arm them with sticks if you have to."

Licking her lips, the Ensign still felt daunted.   "Wouldn't it be easier to just take the runabout, go after the Command Yacht instead?"

Lirik was growing infuriated by the Ensign, but his initial instinct had been the same.  With no other source of dilithium resource available, though, the runabout's crystals would now have to be used.

"No, the safety of this ship and its people are more important.  The Captain and Commodore are aboard the Command Yacht amongst others - I'm sure they will do everything they can to return to us.  But in case they can't, we have to make the assumption that we're left to fend for ourselves."

The Ensign's face visibly dropped, belying her restraint once more.  "What if the Commander can't repair the core?  We're dead in the water, aren't we?"

Lirik touched his top lip with his tongue, thinking of an appropriate reply.  His pause said enough.  "If we don't find an alternate means of power, things could get a little static, yes."

As if heralding what was to come, the lights in engineering dimmed and died, as did all computer and mechanical noises.   Lirik and Souveson observed the almost complete silence in the dark as Leonard initiated the switch over to generator power.  A heartbeat later, the sounds began again, and the light gently warmed to a full brightness.   Many consoles, until now either redundant or frozen in one mode came to life all around them.   The computer voiced an automatic checklist.

"What's going on?" Souveson asked Leonard who was leaning over the diagnostic table and dripping beads of sweat onto the glass surface.

"It seems that when I activated the generators, we regained access to key systems previously unavailable.   They're not on-line yet, but I could probably get them that way."

"How did that happen?" Lirik thought aloud.

"I can't say for sure.  Hedrik had been working on command functions in the computer core.   I imagine that the generators have initiated independent regulation protocols - perhaps back-up systems that were previously dormant are now fully active," the Commander seemed as confused as he sounded.

"We've seen evidence of the duplicate and triplicate back-up systems on board already," Leonard tapped on the main computer interface panel.  "The computer core seems to be co-ordinating management of the systems perfectly well, despite the fact it is running on only 55% capability," the blonde German half-laughed, pushing the glasses up his nose.  "There's potential to increase to 100%, even without many of the control chips in place," he laughed quietly - obviously an engineering irony, Lirik though.  "In many ways we're better off than we were before."

"I doubt that, Sir," Souveson said under her breath.

"But we still don't have drive systems, do we?" the girl called Vostaline stepped up to the table out of the shadows.

Following his conversation in the runabout Hudson with Souveson, Christian and Jackson, Lirik had become increasingly intrigued by their Helan fellow travellers.  As she stood directly opposite him in the bright light, he was briefly distracted by the intricate designs applied to the clothes she wore.   Even though the overall garment was understated, the detail and craftsmanship of the beaded patterns were obviously very high.  He wondered why such skill would be afforded upon such a simple dress, wondering if she had either 'inherited' it in some way, or someone had gone to the painstaking effort of making it just so for her.

"No, that's still a physical problem we have to resolve," Leonard smiled warmly - the German liked the younger girl and her polite but forthright manner, and it showed to Lirik.

Lirik cleared his throat authoritatively.   "Okay, Ensign, organise your security cover as we discussed.  Mister Leonard, I'll go get your crystals.  Once the core is repaired, see if you can bring internal systems fully on line, I want to know the extent of our computer access and the systems available.   Sensors would be good.   Weapons and shields, as well, just in case the Captain and the others don't make it back," the Yeoman disappeared into the corridor with Souveson, casting a final glance back.   He locked eyes with Vostaline who was intently watching them go - she looked like she had made an important decision by the look on her face, he thought.

Alone with Leonard, Vostaline looked over the Commander's smooth, naked shoulder as he patched into the mainframe and called up the available diagnostics programmes.  Behind him, she turned away, glancing up and around - looking through the deck above as if suddenly distracted by something beyond calling to her.

* * *

COMMAND YACHT, UNKNOWN LOCATION

Christian was sweating profusely.   He had discovered an open doorway on the opposite wall and stepped slowly over the threshold.  He clapped his hands, deducing that the light but fairly long echo indicated a large, mostly unfurnished room.  He still wasn't sure where he was exactly; sweeping his arms and hands around he found no wall mounted devices or equipment of any kind.

As the Captain traced along the blank, inside wall to the immediate left of the door, he quickly hit a corner and proceeded along the second wall, perpendicular to the last.  Eleven paces later he reached another corner.   As he turned on this one, presumably opposite to the entrance, the wall disappeared and he almost lost his balance.   His foot found that the wall was still there, but only up to knee height.  Reaching down he followed the metal surface over the smooth corner beside his knee onto a horizontal ledge.  Abruptly, the metal gave way to something that felt a good deal colder.

This smooth surface arced up and slightly away from him for about a metre and a half, and then graduated back in toward the ceiling.   It ended just above his head with the warmer-feeling surface again.  He reached out from side to side - fingertips finding struts at regular intervals, about a metre and a half apart.

"Windows," he mused out loud.   He guessed that either some kind of shutter or the black substance on the rest of the ship could be covering the windows, blocking out the starlight.

Then, although he didn't hear a noise, he instinctively turned, sensing a presence in the room. His heart beat faster, for in the darkness, he believed he could see two very faint points of illumination in the doorway.  He peered hard into the darkness, his head instinctively inching forward to see what they were more clearly.  A shiver ran down his spine - it dawned on him that they were positioned almost like tiny, round eyes.   They were level with his waist - about the same height as the dead spider he'd seen.

Christian swallowed, ordering himself to remain calm.   Slowly, quietly, he inched away, concentrating on not making a loud sound or a sudden move.   Fear began to take hold when he discovered no alternate exit from the room.  In the farthest corner from the door, he decided to remain where he was, hoping that the creature would walk away.  He clambered onto the low ledge and pushed as far back as he could into the space between the cold window and the corner wall.  As he looked over again, he saw the distant faint eyes still staring intently at him…and they looked as if they had moved a little closer.

* * *

COMMAND YACHT, ENGINEERING

Karless peered around the corner toward the entrance to engineering.  All seemed remarkably quiet and undisturbed, but there was no sign of Kluless - who should have been on guard in the corridor outside.

The warrior stepped forward and Murak followed closely.   Reb felt quite scared, and couldn't help looking around all the time - determined that he wouldn't be taken from behind while bringing up the cowardly rear.  The three halted just outside the shiny black room, gaining a clear view inside through the open doors.

"No-one's there," Reb pointed out the obvious in a loud whisper.  Cautiously, Karless edged into the doorway and peered inside.  To his right, he glimpsed the bulkhead that had exploded and killed the merchant a fortnight ago, now taped off with yellow/black hazard strips.   He wondered if the enemy were crouched behind one of the console units or support struts.

Before he could proceed with an appropriate strategy and to the Klingon's surprise, Murak broke formation, pushing past him, and made his way swiftly into the centre of the room, stopping at the master control board.  Karless thought he was either totally brave or totally stupid, but no attack came.

Murak tried several consoles in rapid succession, but each bleated negatively.  "I still can't gain access to controls.  There's some kind of complex security authorisation code in place.   It's adaptive."

Karless moved beside him, trying to understand the garbled codes flashing across the screens while Reb hung back, stopping to peer into the gaping, damaged wall.

"Can you break the code?" the Klingon demanded.

Murak shook his head, though continued to try and gain access via the myriad newly available computer systems that were now on line.  "I may be able to gain access to related systems, but navigation and drive controls are sealed tight."

Karless seemed frustrated by this news, and approached the doors leading into the warp core area beyond, deciding upon a more direct, hands-on solution to the problem.  They didn't open for him.

"Perhaps the K'Tani agent is on the other side?" Murak wondered.

"You!" Karless shouted to Reb, who physically jumped.  "Assist me!"

Reb swallowed hard and joined the strong smelling Klingon beside the door.  Despite having accessed the override controls, they refused to budge.   Karless applied his trusty blade, but this time the mechanism refused to give way.

"We need to find another way in," the Klingon said, sounding almost logical.  "One of those Jefferson Tubes."

"Jeffreys Tubes," Reb corrected him, then wished he hadn't.

Karless looked over at the charred wall and noticed that its spliced innards revealed the impossibly narrow and damaged remains of a horizontal crawlway running along the edge of the room toward the warp core.  Reb followed his gaze, then noticed the large man was looking down at him, just one tooth pushing out from between his lips in a slight smirk.  He realised what Karless intended.

"Oh, no," he began to protest.   "No way."

The Klingon began a low snarl.

"You ARE smaller than either of us," Murak pointed out logically.

* * *

COMMAND SECTION, ENGINEERING

Lirik hovered beside the warp pit, watching Leonard prepare to install the runabout's crystals into the chamber housing.   The German seemed to be having a difficult time with the damaged articulation frame.

He also realised there were no more sounds coming from the warp shaft, the casualty presumably having fallen unconscious - O'Hara's party would be there any minute now.  The Yeoman glanced over at Vostaline who Leonard had left at the diagnostic table to see what systems had come one line as per Lirik's request.   For a people that had lived off generator power, oblivious to the ship's warp capability and computerised potential, Lirik thought, she was showing remarkable adaptive skills at using Federation standard controls.

Ensign Souveson rushed into Engineering with a flurry.   "Sir," she approached Lirik almost with respect.  "This isn't going to work.  I only managed to persuade thirteen people to help and there are just too many places someone could hide.  We're finding many storage crates, anti-rooms and what even look like covert storage spaces.   Some rooms are sealed off, and some areas of the command section are just too inhospitable to search."

"Maybe I'm going about this the wrong way," Lirik thought aloud.  "Commander, do we have internal sensors yet?"

The German didn't answer, he was busy concentrating, straining with the relatively small and delicate dilithium chamber.

"Commander?" Lirik leant over the rail.

"Grrr!" the German was frustrated, trying to get something to lock into place, the muscles on his arms flexed control into his long fingers, their tips attempting to shift misaligned rods into place.   Instead of clicking home, though, the device unexpectedly snapped, and the dilithium crystals fountained up into the air and scattered onto the grille on which he stood, falling through the relatively wide spaces in the grate and down into the deep warp pit below.

The sound caused everyone in engineering to turn and stare.  Some gathered around the rail, hearing the crystals tinkle into the distance as they fell from the pit down into the shaft below.

Lirik and Souveson were stunned into silence.   After a brief second of numb disbelief, Leonard cried out and smacked the already damaged walls of the pit.   "Shit!  Shitshitshit…" he screamed, then shook his head angrily.   He looked straight up, hands on hips, wondering why everything seemed to be going wrong.   "Mein Gott--!"

"Whoahwhoahwhaoh!" Lirik pushed his palms toward the Commander, uncontrolled rage and self pity wasn't going to help any.

"Who would have built such a ridiculous platform!" he cursed at the grate he stood on and kicked the shaft wall.

"What's done is done," Lirik reassured.   "We can find them again with tricorders."

Leonard picked up the pieces of the housing case seal and articulation frame that had snapped clean off and shattered respectively, and he shook his head with doom.

"The crystals are no longer the problem.   There's no way I'm going to be able to fix this in time.  This damned ship!" he continued to curse under his breath.

Souveson swallowed a lump of fear.   "Can't we repair the impulse engines instead?" she asked.

"They've been too badly damaged," Leonard hung his head.  "The warp engine was our only hope."

The Ensign stared at Leonard, who didn't seem to have a plan.  Lirik it seemed was deep in thought.

"What are we going to do now?" she managed to say, wondering how a senior ranking engineer could have been so stupid and clumsy.

"Commander, the computer," Lirik softly spoke, "do we have internal systems on line?"

The German grunted, scanning the grill in vain for any of the lost crystals.  "I've not had a chance to personally check, but from what Vostaline says we have regained most internal controls - well, only for whatever still works on this bucket of bolts."

The group quickly marched over to where Vostaline was slowly, methodically checking systems, apparently unconcerned with the current drama.  "We may have more apparent computer access," she informed them, "but with only generator power, many are still off line."

Lirik's hands flashed across the diagnostics table.   "Let's see: communications, gravity and life support, turbolifts, ah…" he quickly interfaced with the ship's schematics, "…library files."  Several bleeps later, he called up a series of deck plans.   Simultaneously, Souveson took up a position opposite, next to Vostaline, and patched into the security system.

"I have internal sensors.   I even have some images." She scrolled through various shots of empty corridors and darkened rooms on a small display screen.   "There are quite a few sections devoid of power, a few others we're still blind to," she looked up at Lirik.

Lirik finished his quickly typed commands with a flourish of a finger and a 3D image of the SS Fantasy (in its entirety and its original gleaming white livery) materialised above the diagnostic table.   A small crowd of volunteers and intrigued survivors 'oohd' and gathered around the perimeter, all eyes focussed on the holo image and whispering comments to each other.

Pressing a single command Lirik split the ship into its three main sections, eliminating the command yacht that had now gone.   Entering another command and he stripped the outer 'skin' of the rest of the ship, revealing the detailed interior of each deck.  Two more commands and the decks began to break apart vertically, spacing out so that they could all see original rooms, dividing walls, conduits and furniture.

"According to the file, this image is about two overhauls out of date," Lirik said.  "But it's still basically the same ship."

Souveson networked into Lirik's active program, and green dots began to flash all over the occupied decks.

"I've overlaid life signs into this programme," she said proudly.  Her pride was short-lived as two obvious blips were flashing red at the bottom of the warp core.

"The people who fell…" Vostaline murmured.   "Are they still alive?"

Lirik honed the scanners on the relevant blips and immediately saw that the readings showed no signs of life.   "No," he said quietly, and a couple of sharp intakes of breath followed by sobbing erupted in the background somewhere.

The Yeoman could see on the holo image that O'Hara's search party were not far away from their objective - just two decks above them, apparently trying to find a way in to the shaft.   "Do we have transporters?" he asked generally.

Leonard scanned the systems, not seeing Vostaline shaking her head beside him.  "No, that technology was stripped out from what we've already seen."

Lirik located the intercom panel - now active - and entered the relevant corridor designation.  "Engineering to Lieutenant O'Hara.  According to internal sensors our casualties are two decks below your current position.  We aren't getting any life signs here, but the system could be malfunctioning.   Please acknowledge."

Twenty seconds later, the Helan named Fraxon located an intercom panel on the wall.  "Acknowledged," came the voice over the engineering speakers.

"Ensign," Lirik turned to see the Canadian was flushed, upset at the death of yet two more innocent civilians.   He thought she was additionally uneasy surrounded by so many worried and sad faces.  "You can use this interface to search the ship.   You might even be able to erect low level force fields around key areas.  Use it to monitor systems as well, I'm going to leave you in charge until we get back."  Her jaw dropped at this, and even Leonard's attention was gripped.

"In charge?" she said, not understanding.

"I'm senior officer here," Leonard said defensively.  "Who ever said you were in command?"

A couple of people in the crowd tutted their disapproval at the untimely power struggle taking place.

"Where are you planning on going?" a human teenage girl chipped in, hoping to break up any argument before it started.

"The passenger section," Lirik announced.   He tapped the console and revealed on every other deck of the holo image the rectangular positions representing the bulkheads between the two sections of the ship.

"We don't know what state the passenger section is in, we could be wasting both valuable power and time," the Commander objected rudely.

Lirik's mouth dropped open in mock-disbelief.   "You know, I should really put you together with Rebbik.  You'd get along so well."

"O'Hara to Engineering," the Lieutenant's voice sang out through the overhead speakers, cutting off Leonard's returning line.  "I'm sorry, but your two people didn't make it."

There was a low moan of affirmed disappointment.   The Lieutenant asked further: "Do we have all main systems back on line?"

"Not all, Nurse," Souveson answered.   "And those that we do are only temporary.  We're running on generators that will only last about another two hours so we're trying to find an alternative means of power."

"Thank you, Ensign."   At the bottom of the blood-spattered warp shaft, balancing on the antimatter injector plant, O'Hara closed her eyes and counted to ten at the 'nurse' comment.  "May I request that we send a search party into the passenger section, I need to know if there is a medical bay there."

Lirik glanced up at a glowering Leonard and tapped out a search.  In the centre of deck 6 on the holographic image, the relevant medical facility flashed an olive green - it was some one hundred and twenty metres forward of the dividing plane.

Leonard's heart was beating fast, realising the potential of the library interface and conducted his own search.   A large engineering area on Deck 20 began to flash amid the holo image.  "Engineering…" he said, beginning to see the sense in what Lirik suggested.

The Yeoman licked his lips excitedly.   "Lieutenant, are you free to accompany us?"

"Are you kidding?" her voice came across the speakers, causing a few to smile and the tension of the group surrounding the diagnostic table to relax. "I'm on my way," she said.   From her own personal point of view it was the best news the Lieutenant had heard all day.  She was growing tired of having to use sub-standard equipment to keep people alive, and still held out some hope that there may be vital medicines and life saving equipment in the passenger section. 

Lirik faced Leonard, not speaking, but nodding an indication that he had control.  The German picked up the discarded command baton and ran with it awkwardly.

"Okay, we'll split up into two teams, one will proceed to engineering, the other to the medical facility," he almost smiled at the Yeoman.  "That sound okay to you?"

The half Medusan grinned.

* * *

COMMAND YACHT, BRIDGE

Commodore Jackson paced the bridge.   Several computer trills, out of sequence, seemed to herald an invisible change in status.   The turbolift to her left suddenly opened and Narli, along with three Helan, stepped out, catching their breath and wafting their shirts to try and cool down.

"Ambassador!" she said in surprise.

"We were sealed in the turbolift, didn't you hear our cries for help?" the big blue man snapped.

"No," Jackson sighed.

"What in Andoriban's name happened to us?" the Ambassador felt the bump on his thigh from the violent ship movements earlier.  Jackson filled the Andorian in on the current situation.  As she finished, the turbolift doors opened again.  Murak stepped out.

"Commodore, engineering was unoccupied," he walked over to the engineering station and tapped out a combination of commands.   "We have been unsuccessful in our initial attempt at regaining navigational control.   An adaptive command code is locking us out of all drive systems, but others have somehow come back on line.  Karless advised me not to use the comm system in case it was monitored.  As you can see, Turbolifts are also back on line."

Jackson leaned on the back of his chair.   "Where are your two compatriots now?"

Murak raised an eyebrow - he hadn't considered either man to fall in that category yet.  "Karless and Reb are attempting to break into the engineering plant.  From there we might be able to regain control manually," he remembered Reb's pained expression as he squeezed into the tight conduit, barely wide enough for humanoid access.   "If we can't regain control that way, our only alternative will be to destroy the engines."

"That won't help us much," Jackson objected.   "Professor, any further detail on those ships?"

Karnak haughtily turned to her consoles.   "I am now able to generate a visual," she announced.

All faces turned to the main viewscreen that switched to from the starscape to a sea of static.  Gradually, as Karnak manipulated long range sensors, the haze cleared to reveal three groups of four ships, each in diamond formation, flying at impulse toward their position.  There was no doubt in anyone's mind, they were a mixture of the same type of K'Tani ships that had attacked Helub - each wing comprising a troop carrier flanked by three fighters.  "At present speed they will intercept us in twenty five minutes."

"So, at least we know that like us they can't travel faster than maximum impulse amid all this ionisation," Jackson summised.  She turned to the Romulan.   "If we manage to shut down power, how much time would that buy us?"

"Ten, perhaps fifteen minutes," Murak suggested vaguely, much to the Professor's annoyance.

"And how quickly could we get underway again?" the Commodore placed a hand on hip, the other fiddled nervously with her chin and lips.

Murak thought for a moment.  "It depends - if we are prudent in how we disable the engines, then possibly only a few minutes.  But there is no guarantee we would retake computer control when we power up again.   We could find ourselves facing the exact same situation."

"Sounds to me like regaining computer control is the best solution," Narli commented, casting a sideways glance around for Hedrik, but she was no-where in sight, presumably she was still with the Commander.

"That is not a wise course to pursue," Professor Karnak objected, standing from her work on analysing the code.   "The Command Code lock-out in place is highly complex and virtually unbreakable."

"Nevertheless," Jackson said.   "We don't have another choice.   We might be able to circumvent the code and regain control another way," Jackson stepped up to the Captain's chair.

The Professor came closer to her, leaning over the tactical rail.  "That is a preposterous suggestion, Commodore.  There is no way that you could-"

"Thank you, Professor," Jackson held up a halting hand.  "But this isn't an academic debate."  She paused - enough for Karnak to back down.  "Murak, I want you to return to engineering.  Keep on trying to regain manual control, but think of a way in which we could stop the ship with the minimum of damage, just in case.   In the meantime we will attempt to find a software solution to the problem."  She checked the time display on a nearby console.  "You'll only have about twenty minutes to prepare, so get moving.  Good luck."   Murak nodded and disappeared into the turbolift.  "Professor, Ambassador, I want you to try and regain computer control."

"Commodore, I must insist!   What you suggest is an impossible task," Karnak whined.

"Miss Hedrik may be able to help," Narli said, much to the Professor's annoyance.

"Of course," Jackson said, moving around to tactical.  "I'm going to see what shape our shields are in."

The move displayed much bravado, as the Commodore hadn't been near a tactical console since her command training days.   She had been graded high at rapid lcars commands, having had the fastest trigger finger in her group.   She only hoped that this display of dexterity would help cover up her unpracticed tactical knowledge.

* * *

ACT 3