5
As Talev zh’Thren fell away, al-Khaled exercised the only option open to him.
He jumped.
Arms stretched outward, al-Khaled kicked off from the Chandley’s hull, arcing away from the ship and into free space.
“Commander!” Talev called out again, her arms and legs thrashing about as she drifted farther from the ship. She was reaching out for anything that might arrest her motion, but of course there was nothing.
“Hang on, Talev,” al-Khaled said, speaking in as calm a voice as he could muster, all the while cursing whoever had dismantled the Chandley’s transporter. “I’m coming.”
Drifting after her in the void, al-Khaled was helpless to do anything but listen to the echoes of his own breathing. His pulse raced and pounded in his ears as the distance between them shrank too damned slowly.
“Mahmud,” Scott’s voice sounded in his helmet, “what’s wrong?”
Not answering, al-Khaled’s attention was instead focused on Talev, who was now close, so very close. Reaching out, al-Khaled’s gloved fingers brushed against the side of the Andorian’s boot. He missed the grab, the action serving to twist her body away from his hand, her body turning cartwheels in the vacuum. Her arm was swinging around, though, and al-Khaled angled to reach for it.
And then his tether line went taut.
“No!” he cried as his hand closed around nothing and he felt his body pulled back toward the ship. The gap between him and Talev, which had been mere millimeters an instant ago, started to widen again.
As her body turned about and the visor of her helmet became visible, Talev’s expression was one of panic. “Commander!” She reached vainly in the direction of al-Khaled even as she continued to drift farther away from the Chandley. Al-Khaled flailed his arms in a desperate attempt to grab on to her, knowing even as he did so that the attempt was fruitless.
Then he saw movement in the corner of his eye.
Drifting past him was the remainder of Talev’s tether, still attached to her environmental suit. The severed safety line was arcing and twisting in response to the lieutenant’s frantic motions, and now it was almost within al-Khaled’s reach. But could he grab on to it?
“Mahmud,” Scott’s voice repeated in his helmet, “what the devil is goin’ on out there?”
“I’m a little busy at the moment, Scotty,” al-Khaled replied through clenched teeth. “Stand by.”
He grabbed on to his own tether and, using it for the tenuous amount of leverage it possessed, al-Khaled twisted his body around and reached out one last time with his free hand. The material of Talev’s safety line slid across his gloved fingers and he tightened his grip. His body curled around as the Andorian’s momentum was transferred to him, and then he felt his own movement arrest as his own tether went taut once more. When he was jerked in the direction of the Chandley this time, however, it was with Talev’s line still in his grip and the lieutenant now drifting along with him back toward the ship.
“Gotcha,” he called out in triumph. Easy there, he cautioned himself. You’re not home free yet.
As they drew nearer to the hull, he used his hold on his tether to bring himself around and plant his feet on the metal plating, letting the magnetic sensors in his boots secure him to the ship once again. Seconds later Talev was beside him, anchoring herself to the hull as well.
“I can’t take you anywhere, can I?” al-Khaled asked, breathing hard from the brief but intense exertion.
Shaking her head, Talev frowned behind her face- plate. “I guess not. Thanks for coming after me.”
“Save it until you get my bill,” al-Khaled responded as he rechecked his boots’ grip on the hull. He was sure he had detected a note of humility in the young Andorian’s voice, a quality that had been notably absent in his previous dealings with her. Interesting, he thought.
Then Scott’s exasperated voice was sounding in his helmet once more. “Mahmud, so help me, if ye dinna answer I’m comin’ out there and throttlin’ the both of ye.”
As they began to make their way across the hull back to where the damaged manifold awaited the rest of their repairs, al-Khaled replied, “Oh, now you offer to come outside and help. Your timing is impeccable as always, Commander.” Surveying the new damage to the ship’s exterior from the plasma eruption he added, “Bring me another hull plate while you’re at it.”
“He will probably want to kill you once we get back inside,” Talev said.
Al-Khaled nodded. “Probably. In that case, let’s finish our work here. I do not want to die in vain, after all.”
* * *
Though the idea of killing al-Khaled did cross his mind, Scott decided that it would be best if he waited until they got home first.
“Repairs are spot on, Mahmud,” he said as he studied a status display at the engineering station on the Chandley’s bridge. The decision not to shut down the plasma flow had been dangerous, even given their current situation, and they had nearly lost Talev because of it. For that he was furious with himself. Sloppy engineers make dead engineers, he reminded himself.
“Plasma levels are lower than I’d like, but they’re holding steady. All we have to do now is bring those engines back online and let the computer run its start-up diagnostics. Once that’s done, if we dinna give her too many bumps along the way, the old girl should get us home without too much trouble.”
At the science station, Tomar turned in his seat, a frown creasing his features. “We may have another problem, Mr. Scott.” As the trio of Starfleet engineers moved to join him, the Kelvan motioned for them to observe one of the monitors on the bulkhead above him. “The computer’s diagnostics are reporting that the warp drive cannot be brought back online.”
“What?” al-Khaled asked as he studied the display. “Is there something else wrong? Some other damage that we missed?”
Shaking his head, Tomar indicated a graphic in the computer screen’s lower left corner. “We installed computer software that is dedicated to monitoring the warp drive systems. It uses a series of overlapping protocols that continuously recalibrate engine performance. Some of the adjustments it makes are so minute that most living beings can’t even detect the change. The recalibrations are made much faster than flesh-and-blood engineers could accomplish them, as well.”
Scott held up a hand. “Ye covered all of this at the briefing, Tomar, but what does that have to do with anything right now?”
From behind him, Talev replied, “Commander, what I believe Tomar is trying to say is that the computer will not allow the warp drive to be enabled because it views doing so with our drastically reduced plasma levels to be an inefficient if not outright unsafe operating condition.”
Rolling his eyes, Scott forced himself to maintain his composure. Why was this so difficult? “So bypass the bloody thing.”
“I wish it were that simple, my friend,” Tomar replied, his expression almost one of embarrassment. “We designed the computer software to regulate the engines as close to standard technical specifications as possible, in order to ensure the best possible performance with the least required amount of interaction with our engineering staff. It was hoped that being able to rely on computers for such tasks would allow us to set out into space with smaller crews. We would then be able to distribute the limited number of experienced space travelers of our people more efficiently among our ships.”
It was a laudable goal, Scott agreed. The Kelvans had always shown themselves to be self-reliant almost to a fault, dating back to the first time the Enterprise crew had encountered them. Naturally they would want to launch their new program of exploration with as little outside help as possible. Talev and the other Starfleet engineers temporarily assigned to New Kelva had been tolerated, to be sure, but only because of the opportunity to learn about Kelvan engineering techniques that had been part of the deal struck by Starfleet for the use of their ships.
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?”