“Please let me take a look,” Em-Lin said a second time, louder and more firmly than the first. “Unless either of you has a better idea right now.” Ever since she had followed Vance to the access panel for the quantum bomb system, he and Lauoc had blocked her view of the controls.

Now that Em-Lin had gotten their attention, Vance and Lauoc looked at her, then at each other, then back at her. Em-Lin saw naked and abundant skepticism in their eyes, but that was okay. She did not much care what the Starfleeters’ opinions of her might be, as long as she was confident that she could do the job.

Lauoc was the first to step aside. “We have less than a minute before the quantum bomb goes off,” he said, raising his voice over the latest round of weapons fire.

“It’s a morphic system,” said Vance. When he jabbed a finger into the circuitry, glowing wires slithered away from his touch and reformed a connection several centimeters beyond his fingertip. “Shape-shifting technology.”

Em-Lin nodded and pushed forward to the open access panel in the wall. By her reckoning, the bomb would detonate in thirty-five seconds.

There was no time for explanations, and they were unnecessary anyway. Em-Lin knew all about morphic circuitry.

The Dominion had taught her well.

Gritting her teeth against the latest surge of pain from the wound in her side, Em-Lin thrust her hand into the hip pocket of her burgundy coveralls and found the tool that she needed. It felt like a metal rod at first, but came to life when she touched it. As her fingers wrapped around it, the tool wrapped around her fingers, twisting and twining like a fast-growing vine.

She drew the device from her pocket and focused her thoughts on it, reaching out with her mind just as she had always done with Or-Lin. She felt the tool waiting, its tiny, fuzzy brain vibrating softly with the simple question that was the sum total of its desires:

What do you want me to do?

Em-Lin sent back the answer: Turn off the bomb.

As soon as she thought it, Em-Lin felt the tool reshaping itself for the task ahead, growing dozens of tiny, silver tentacles around its tip. When she raised it toward the open access panel, the tentacles fluttered excitedly, reaching straight out for the maze of flashing circuitry inside the opening. The tool itself grabbed hold and pulled itself the rest of the way into the gap.

“What is that thing?” said Vance.

Em-Lin silenced him with a wave and continued to focus her mind on the tool. At this point, the slightest distraction could mean complete disaster.

Inside the access point, the tool’s tentacles grew and branched and flowed along circuitry pathways like liquid. Em-Lin felt the circuitry reacting, realigning itself to escape the intruder and preserve functionality…but the tool sensed every change and shifted the shape and qualities of its extrusions to compensate.

In the end, the tool was smarter and more agile than the bomb system. The bomb’s control program tried one last surprise maneuver, attempting to use the tool itself to trigger detonation, but the tool caught on fast and shuffled the corrupted code into final deactivation commands.

With fewer than ten seconds left until the scheduled explosion, the quantum bomb system went permanently offline.

“All clear,” said Em-Lin.

Vance kept looking from her to the tool and back.

“What I want to know, is where can I get one of those?”

“Me, too,” Lauoc said.

“Pretty sure we’re going to want to buy ’em in bulk,” said Vance.

Em-Lin’s smile turned into a grimace as the pain in her side flared up. She sagged, releasing her grip on the tool, and Vance automatically wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“You need to see our doctor,” said Vance.

Em-Lin shook her head and reached for the shape-shifting tool. Deactivate all booby traps, she told it with her mind as soon as her hand made contact and the gelatinous substance of the device wrapped around it.

The answer flashed right back to her: Cannot. The tool showed her why with a series of images flickering over the link.

Disengage, Em-Lin told the tool, and then, though she didn’t think it would understand, she sent it this, too: Thank you. Always be nice to your tools, her father had taught her.

“We can’t shut down the other booby traps from here,” said Em-Lin. “After activation, each trap operates independent of the overarching system. We’ll have to work on one device at a time.”

“If by working on the devices, you mean getting medical treatment for your injury,” said Vance, “then great.”

Em-Lin tried not to let Vance or Lauoc see her wince at the pain in her side, but she did not think that she hid it very well. “Do we have to get across the shrine anyway?” she said. “To get to the medical care, I mean.”

“We do,” said Lauoc.

“Then if we’re already going in that direction,” said Em-Lin, “it won’t matter if we make some stops along the way, will it?”

Something exploded nearby, and Vance shook his head. “All right,” he said. “But we’re running you right out of here if you start getting worse.”

“Fair enough,” said Em-Lin. “Where’s the next terminal?”

It was then, just as she slowly started forward, supported on either side by Vance and Lauoc, that Em-Lin heard Or-Lin’s giggling voice in her ear once more.

I have an idea, said Or-Lin. Why not set off the next bomb? Why not come join me, and bring the Starfleeties with you?

Em-Lin did not dignify Or-Lin’s questions with an answer. She was not about to get into an argument with a dugo tenya, and she certainly had no intention of doing its bidding.

Even though it wasn’t like she didn’t have any Starfleet blood on her hands already.