Carol Abramowitz completed a second set of scans of the exposed pipework and its frayed, splintered wires. With the touch of a control, the tricorder’s databanks were shared with the da Vinci‘s computers.

Touching her restored combadge, she called to the starship. “Abramowitz to Soloman.”

“Go ahead, Carol,” the Bynar said.

“We don’t have a lot of time so I’d like you to run the alien writing through the cultural databanks, looking for musical matches. We suspect it’s more of a tonal than written language.”

“Understood, stand by.” He cut the signal and Carol let out a sigh. She had done what she could for the moment. The Evorans were an intriguing people and she wished there was sufficient time for her to do a proper job. Everything had been determined based on the most surface of impressions. She’d need a few weeks, totally without incident, to get a real feel for the people. So far, her training and instincts had helped her, but she had come to a dead end. Without more facts or time or both, there was little left for her to do.

Times like this she wished she were one of those geniuses who could master many disciplines. From here on, it would fall to Sonya to salvage the situation. Understanding the language was nice, but right now, they needed a working power node to interface with the rest of the alien technology that had been keeping the planet from shaking apart. She’d been through something similar on Keorga only a few weeks ago. She, Bart, and Soloman had managed to pull a proverbial rabbit out of their hats then—she could only hope that history repeated itself.

She glanced over to see Sonya testing some of the exposed wiring to better understand the harmonics’ frequency and power emissions. The commander seemed totally enthralled by the work, but the perspiration running down her cheeks showed just how tense the situation was becoming.

Bart, to his credit, was continuing to look at the rest of the exposed pipe, touching the raised letters—or notes?—and continuing his research. He seemed possessed, ignoring his personal fears and concentrating on the job, just as Sonya had advised. But then, once Bart started sinking his teeth into a linguistic conundrum, he could focus with the best of them.

Hawkins was studiously watching the now-recovered Onlith. As for Core Breach herself, Corsi was taking a perimeter walk of the encampment to make sure there would be no other surprises.

It had become a waiting game and she was not good at waiting under circumstances like these.

Within ten minutes, though, she was signaled by the ship. Soloman began, without preamble, “There’s an amazing mathematical progression in the structure, so it took me longer to decipher than I thought.”

Carol laughed but encouraged Soloman to continue. Only a Bynar would think ten minutes was too long to decipher an unknown alien language.

“You were wrong, though,” he continued.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s not musical notes in lieu of a written language. This is a blend, one I would think is most elegant. There’s not quite enough of a sample to fully understand it all but it matches no known Evoran language nor any in our own databanks.”

“Anything in it that can help the commander?”

“Maybe. I’m transmitting the best approximation of the translation and she can decide for herself.”

“Thanks, Soloman. Abramowitz out.”

Within seconds her tricorder beeped, signaling that the transmission was complete, and she walked it over to Sonya, who was feeding instructions into the replicator.

“Read it to me, I’ve got to keep on this,” she said with a small plea in her voice.

Carol dutifully read the translation, which dealt with amps and frequencies; all the while Gomez was bobbing her head up and down. It was almost comical to Abramowitz to watch her bob in rhythm with her reading.

As Sonya worked, Rugan had been inching closer to the group, her curiosity clearly getting the best of her. At one point Hawkins raised his phaser toward her, but Carol shook her head at him, and he lowered it.

“Damnedest thing I’ve ever seen,” the scientist said.

“Well, it’s new to us, too,” Carol said.

“You see an alien artifact for the first time and in hours manage to decipher the language and even figure out how to repair it. I didn’t even know what I was looking at.”

“It’s just the difference in technology,” Carol said in a warm tone. She liked the scientist and didn’t want to overplay the Federation’s role. “Had you the same equipment…”

“No, I don’t think so,” Rugan said dejectedly. “I haven’t a team like yours. I work with people scared of their own shadow. Most would rather keep their heads in the ground like the sellow birds.”

“There must be more like you.”

“Only if we can get the teachers to adopt new ways. So many young minds remain closed, so much waste…”

“When this is over, and your people discover the truth, that may be the spark they need. Don’t give up on your own people.”

“I try not to, but they disappoint me so often,” Rugan said, moving over to get a closer view of Sonya’s activity.

“Of course,” Gomez exclaimed at that moment, startling the scientist. She quickly reprogrammed some numbers into the replicator and then activated it. Within seconds, a housing similar to the destroyed node appeared. If anything it was less appealing to look at than the original. Then she called up to the ship and asked Pattie to help supply her with various pieces of equipment.

“Want to explain what’s going on?” Bart asked after a burst of activity.

“What?” Sonya looked up, almost as if she had forgotten her crewmates. She shook her head a moment. “These nodes seem to be the regulators. As the tectonic plates try to shift, the nodes draw power from the network and use the vibrations to either smooth the plate edges or disperse the vibrations from the actual shifts.”

Sonya stopped to collect the equipment that had materialized by her side. Carol, fascinated, went over and began handing her the items, to move things along. “The node was destroyed, so there was nothing drawing power to stop the plates. Without the stress relief, the plates were free to move and took advantage. I need to confirm this, but my guess is Evora is one of the most unstable planets to sustain life that we’ve ever come across.”

“And the only way to sustain that life was the network,” Carol ventured.

“Right.” Sonya sighed. “How do we explain to Helanoman that his entire race owes its very existence to some other, more benevolent race?”

Carol shook her head. “You don’t. I don’t think you can get through to him. Someone needs to take this directly to the people.”

“Let’s get the situation under control first,” Gomez said, and returned to her work. “I need to build and calibrate this before the aftershocks throw more of this network out of whack. We’ve only got about twenty minutes.”

“I’m going down there,” Gold said aloud as he stood up.

“Is that wise, sir?” Duffy asked.

“Wise? Probably not. But I’m not going to solve this by sitting on my tuchis. I need to be in the same room with that lunatic. You have the conn, Duffy. Whatever Gomez needs, she gets.”

“Of course,” Duffy said in a rush. “Shouldn’t I try and talk you out of this?”

Gold paused and smiled. “You’re welcome to try.”

Duffy smiled back. “The captain shouldn’t put himself in danger. Besides, the last time you left me in charge, I almost started a war with the Tholians.”

“But you didn’t, and that counts for a lot, Duffy. Objection overruled. Take the conn.”

“Yes, sir,” Duffy said, moving the command chair without hesitation.

Within moments, Gold was emerging from the turbolift near the transporter room. He stopped long enough to grab a phaser and then stood on the platform. His lessons at Starfleet Academy and his experience over the years showed that yes, in many—hell, most—cases, it made sense to keep the captain out of harm’s way. But he also knew that there came a time the captain had to insert himself into the thick of it—and this definitely qualified.

“Any interference from the network near the capitol?”

Feliciano checked a readout and shook his head. “No, sir, we’re all clear.”

“Very well, beam me down right outside the regent’s office. Energize.”

Moments later, the captain was standing before the small, polished wood door. Three very startled Evorans were looking up at him. “We can do this the easy way or hard way,” Gold said to them. “I either stun you into submission or you let me stroll into the office.”

The Evorans stared at Gold’s holstered phaser and then his imposing figure. Then back at the phaser. Within seconds they began to back down the corridor, refusing to turn their backs to Gold but also not challenging him.

To keep Helanoman guessing, Gold merely reached for the handle and pushed the door open.

Sure enough, Helanoman was communicating in agitated tones to some subordinate and barely reacted to the door’s sound. Cuzar, though, looked up immediately and her face ran through a variety of reactions that amused the captain. Finally, she settled on a look imploring him for help and he nodded, giving her a reassuring smile.

“I thought I’d bring you the truth myself,” he said in a calm tone.

The Onlith leader whirled about in surprise. He reached for his own weapon, but Gold had already crossed the room without fear. At no point had he reached for his own weapon, and he certainly did not want to invite trouble. Standing barely two feet from the Evoran, Gold looked down and shook his head warningly.

“Understand me: if I wanted to, I could have brought a security detachment with me and you would be in custody. But I do not wish to interfere with a planet’s sovereignty any more than I have to. You and Cuzar can wrestle for the title of regent when this is over—or better yet, put it to a vote, since you seem so sure that the people are on your side. But right now, you must listen to reason.”

Helanoman was seething but Gold spotted the fear in his eyes.

“That node you destroyed allowed the quakes to begin. I have people there now trying to stop more from arriving. Your blind arrogance has put the people you hope to lead in danger.”

“You put that device there to make us beholden to you!”

“If you believe that, fine. When this is done, if you remain in power and want us gone, we’ll warp out of orbit. Right now, though, you’re a Federation protectorate and I am here in response to your people’s call for help. Want it or not, you will be receiving that help.”

Gold walked over to an empty chair and dragged it to Cuzar’s desk. He went and got a second one, exposing his back to Helanoman, letting the man know that there was a certain amount of trust being placed in him—though he supposed Helanoman might interpret the gesture as an insult. The captain settled in the second chair and gestured to Helanoman to take the other one.

“While my people work, shall we discuss resolving this power struggle?”