Destiny_ Gods Of Night Part 2

3.

Commander Christine Vale sat in the captain's chair of the Stars.h.i.+p t.i.tan, stared at the main viewer, and let her thoughts drift in the endless darkness beyond the stars.

A soft murmur of daily routines surrounded her, enveloped her in its familiar cadence of synthetic tones and hushed voices. t.i.tan was more than two thousand light-years past the Vela OB2 a.s.sociation, a dense cl.u.s.ter of new stars that had proved rich in s.p.a.ceborne life-forms and other wonders. Now the s.h.i.+p was deep into a vast expanse of s.p.a.ce that was unmapped and appeared to be unpopulated and untraveled, as well. For the past few weeks, intensive scans for subs.p.a.ce signal traffic had turned up naught but the scratch of cosmic background radiation. This far from the Vela cl.u.s.ter, cosmozoan activity was spa.r.s.e, and there had been no sign of other stars.h.i.+ps within a range of twenty-five light-years since leaving the OB2 a.s.sociation.

Vale saw a certain majesty in that lonely s.p.a.ce; it was like a mirror for her soul. Several months earlier, she and a handful of her s.h.i.+pmates had become stranded during a mission to a planet called Orisha. Experiments conducted by the planet's denizens had produced dangerous temporal anomalies that destroyed the U.S.S. Charon, a Luna-cla.s.s vessel like t.i.tan, and they had almost claimed t.i.tan, as well.

Jaza Najem, t.i.tan's senior science officer-and, for a brief time, Vale's lover-had sacrificed himself to protect the s.h.i.+p and its crew; as a result, he had been forced to live out his life in Orisha's past, permanently exiled to history.

It was still hard for Vale to believe that Najem, a man she'd once loved, and who then became her trusted friend, had been dead now for centuries. He was dead when I met him.

Months had pa.s.sed, and her grief still cut like a sword in her side. She had resisted talking with the counselors at first, but she'd consented to a handful of sessions with Dr. Huilan after the captain had made it an order. Not that any of it had done any good. She had been "unwilling to commit to therapy," according to Huilan. Vale chose to think of it in simpler terms: She just didn't want to talk about it.

Shaking off the torpor of her maudlin brooding, she got up from the center seat and made a slow tour of the bridge. She took light steps, and the carpeting on the deck m.u.f.fled her footfalls. A peek over flight controller Aili Lavena's shoulder confirmed that t.i.tan was continuing on its last course while Lieutenant Commander Melora Pazlar-who had succeeded Jaza as t.i.tan's senior science officer-continued a detailed star-mapping operation.

A glance at the console of senior operations officer Sariel Rager showed a steady stream of astrocartographic data flooding in and being steadily processed, logged, and filed.

All was quiet at the engineering station, which was manned by Ensign Torvig Bu-kar-nguv, a cybernetically enhanced Choblik. His narrow head was barely visible above the console. The meter-tall biped-to Vale, he resembled a cross between a large, flightless bird and a shorn sheep-used his bionic arms and hands to work the console's controls with delicate precision. At the same time, he made adjustments on the wall panel behind him by means of the bionic ma.n.u.s at the end of his long, agile tail.

Vale quickly lost track of the dozens of systems that Torvig was modifying. "What has you so busy, Ensign?"

The expression on his ovine face switched from one of focused curiosity to petrified innocence. "I'm upgrading the power-distribution efficiency of the internal EPS network."

As usual, the specificity of his answer left Vale very little room to insert any small talk. This time, she decided not to try. "Very well," she said. "Carry on, Ensign."

"Thank you, sir," Torvig replied. His face became a mask of contentment as he resumed working. Vale admired his singularity of focus. He had come aboard the previous year to complete his senior-year work study for Starfleet Academy, and along with fellow cadet Zurin Dakal, had stayed on after his long-distance graduation, as a regular member of t.i.tan's crew.

Ranul Keru, the chief of security, was next on Vale's circuit of the bridge. A bear of a man, the dark-bearded Trill loomed quietly over his console. He looked up and favored Vale with a half smirk as she obtrusively leaned over to see what was on his screen. It was a plan for an unannounced security-division drill, a simulated intruder alert. Looking closer, she noted its details with amus.e.m.e.nt. "A dikironium cloud creature?" She accused him with a raised eyebrow. "That's just mean, Keru."

"It's my job," he said, flas.h.i.+ng a devilish grin.

"Let me know if any of us survive," she said, moving on.

Commander Tuvok didn't look up as Vale neared the tactical console, but there was something about his demeanor that felt unusual to her. Her curiosity aroused, she stepped behind him and eyed his console readouts. All she saw was a series of long-range sensor reports, all saying the same thing: no contacts. It was the most placid tactical profile she had seen in decades.

She turned to the brown-skinned Vulcan and lowered her voice to a discreet whisper. "Want to show me what you were really working on?"

He didn't say anything at first. Then he responded with a hesitant glance from the corner of his eye, coupled with a tired grimace. He tapped a few commands into his console, and the serene lineup of empty scans was replaced by a complex set of fleet-deployment grids and battle scenarios.

Vale paged through them and asked, "Core system defenses?"

"Yes," Tuvok said, keeping his own voice hushed like hers.

He had prepared dozens of tactical profiles a.n.a.lyzing the recent attacks by the Borg into Federation s.p.a.ce. In some of the scenarios, he was a.s.sessing strategic and tactical flaws in Starfleet's responses; in others, he had focused on isolating possible breaches in the Federation's perimeter defenses that the Borg might be exploiting.

She singled out one of interest. "Projecting possible next targets?"

"Unfortunately...no," Tuvok said.

It took her a moment to infer his meaning. "There have been more attacks."

"Yes," Tuvok said. Then he called up a recent, cla.s.sified news dispatch from Starfleet Command. "This arrived ten minutes ago. Five s.h.i.+ps destroyed by the Borg in the Onias Sector, in separate engagements." Tuvok lowered his eyes. "I did not wish to alarm the crew, so I refrained from announcing its arrival. I had intended to finish my a.n.a.lysis and brief you in writing a few minutes from now, for the sake of discretion."

"Probably for the best," Vale said. Messages from home had become less frequent since t.i.tan left the Vela cl.u.s.ter, and the horrifying news of recent weeks had left many of its crew fearful for their families and loved ones in the Federation. She nodded once. "Carry on."

Vale returned to work, but over the relaxed air of her daily routine had been cast a pall of unspoken anxiety. It was the first time since t.i.tan's departure from known s.p.a.ce that she wished she could suspend its mission of galactic exploration. Though t.i.tan was devoted to peaceful scientific inquiry, it was also a state-of-the-art Federation stars.h.i.+p, and its captain was a formidable combatant.

Starfleet doesn't need another map of another empty sector, Vale brooded as she slumped back into the captain's chair. It needs every s.h.i.+p it can get, on the front line, right now. But there was no way t.i.tan's crew could be there. It would take them months to get home-and if the Borg threat was as serious as it appeared, t.i.tan's return would come far too late to make any difference. So let's just keep running into the night, Vale fumed. And hope we still have homes to go back to when it's over. She stared at the viewscreen and struggled to bury her ire and frustration in that cold, endless void beyond the stars.

Xin Ra-Havreii stood on the narrow platform inside the stellar cartography holotank and admired Melora Pazlar from afar. The slender, blond Elaysian woman hovered in the center of the zero-gravity environment, several meters from the end of the platform, manipulating holographic constructs with easy grace.

"You should come up," she said to Ra-Havreii.

He smiled. "I like the view just fine from here."

Pazlar reached out with her left hand, palm open, and selected the floating image of a geology department report that detailed the results of the s.h.i.+p's most recent planetary survey. Bending her arm, she pulled the image toward her, enlarging it in the process. "The new interface is a blast," she said as she paged through the report with small flicks of her fingers.

"I'm glad you like it," Ra-Havreii said. He had designed a sweeping upgrade to the holotank's user interface after Pazlar's promotion to senior science officer. Her uniform had been modified with a complex network of embedded nanosensors, which extended from the soles of her boots to the tips of a pair of tight-fitting black gloves. A clear liquid matrix applied directly to her eyes enabled her to trigger functions inside the holotank with a mere glance. He had transformed this high-tech chamber from a works.p.a.ce into Pazlar's personal sanctum sanctorum.

She paused in her labors and tossed another fl.u.s.tered grin at the white-haired Efrosian chief engineer. "So, what brings you up from engineering? Worried I'd broken it already?"

"No, I just wanted to see how it works, now that we're out of the test phase," he said. "Trial runs and normal operations can be very different experiences." With a note of melancholy, he added, "A lesson I learned the hard way."

In fact, the reason he was there was that he'd wanted to see her in action. Watching her use the new system was a delight for Ra-Havreii, who envisioned the fetching science officer as a conductor directing a symphony of data and light.

A sweep of her arm whirled the room's rings of data screens in one direction and spun its backdrop of nebulae and stars in another. "Everything's so easy in here," she said. "It makes me hate to leave." In a more conspiratorial tone she added, "Between you and me, I cringe every time the captain calls a staff meeting, because it means putting the armor back on."

Outside the stellar cartography lab, Pazlar, a native of a low-gravity planet, had to wear a custom-made powered exoskeleton in order to walk or stand in t.i.tan's standard one-g environment. Her armature worked well enough, but it was c.u.mbersome, and when its power reserves dwindled she was forced to use a mechanized wheelchair instead. Even with those devices, her body was exceptionally fragile, in any environment.

At first, Ra-Havreii had pondered ways to improve Pazlar's ability to move through the s.h.i.+p. Then he'd decided that a more elegant solution would be to bring the s.h.i.+p to her.

"What would you say," he remarked with a dramatic flair, "if I told you that you could go anywhere on the s.h.i.+p, any time you want, without ever putting that pile of metal on again?"

With a languid flourish, she dispelled all her work screens and left herself surrounded by a vista of stars. Crossing her arms with deliberate slowness, she turned in place until she had fixed all her attention on Ra-Havreii. "This, I have to hear."

He waved his hand casually at the galactic panorama. "Am I still welcome in your weightless domain?" She responded with a mock glare that he took as an invitation. In a carefree motion he stepped onto the flat, circular platform at the end of the ramp, and then with a gentle push he launched himself into the zero-gravity area. Having spent years as a stars.h.i.+p designer and construction manager, he knew from experience exactly how much force to apply to position himself beside Pazlar. His long white hair and snowy moustache, however, drifted around his face like seaweed buffeted by deep currents.

"Computer," he said, "integrate Ra-Havreii interface modification Melora Four."

"Modification ready," the feminine computer voice said.

He glanced sideways at Pazlar. "I hope you won't think it too forward of me to have named it in your honor."

"I'll let you know when I see what it is," she said.

Ra-Havreii shrugged. "Reasonable. Computer, activate holopresence module. Location: Deck One, conference room." The all-encompa.s.sing sphere of outer s.p.a.ce was replaced in a gentle, fading transition by a holographic representation of the conference room located behind t.i.tan's main bridge.

The simulacrum was perfect in every detail, down to the scent of the fabric on the chairs and the scratches that Pazlar's armature had made in the table's veneer the last time she had attended a meeting there. Outside its tall windows, warp-distorted stars streaked past.

A subtle change in the environment's gravity enabled Pazlar and Ra-Havreii to stand on the deck rather than float above it.

"Cute trick," Pazlar said.

Ra-Havreii chuckled and held up his index finger. "Wait," he said. "There's more." He tapped his combadge. "Ra-Havreii to Commander Vale."

"Vale here. Go ahead, Commander."

"Commander, could I ask you to have one of your bridge personnel step into the Deck One conference room for a moment?"

Vale sounded confused. "Anyone in particular?"

"No," Ra-Havreii said. "Whoever can spare a moment."

"All right," Vale said, suspicion coloring her tone. "Ensign Vennoss is on her way."

"Thank you, Commander. Ra-Havreii out." He smirked at Pazlar and lifted his thick white eyebrows. "This, I expect, will be the fun part."

A portal that led to a corridor that linked the conference room and the bridge opened with a soft hiss, and Ensign Vennoss, an attractive young Kriosian woman, entered carrying a padd. She stopped short and recoiled in mild surprise from Pazlar.

"Sorry, sir," Vennoss said. "I was expecting to meet Commander Ra-Havreii." Then she eyed Pazlar more closely. "Pardon me if this is none of my business, but don't you normally use a motor-a.s.sist armature outside of stellar cartography?"

Pazlar's mute, slack-jawed stare of surprise was an even richer reward than Ra-Havreii had hoped for. He tapped his combadge again. "Ra-Havreii to Ensign Vennoss."

Half a second after he'd finished speaking, his call was repeated from the overhead speaker inside the simulacrum. As Vennoss spoke, he heard her reply both "in person" and echoing from his combadge. "Vennoss here. Go ahead, Commander."

"Lieutenant Commander Pazlar and I are conducting a test of some new holopresence equipment in the stellar cartography lab. Can you bear with us a moment while we make a few adjustments?"

Vennoss gave a single nod. "Yes, sir. My pleasure."

"Thank you." He looked from Vennoss to Pazlar and said in a gentle but prodding way, "Go ahead-talk with her."

It took a second for Pazlar to compose herself, then she straightened her posture to carry herself like a proper officer. "Ensign," she said, and she stopped, apparently uncertain what to say next. Then she continued, "Have there been any new sensor contacts since your last report?"

"No, sir," Vennoss said. "I may have detected a Kerr loop in a nearby star cl.u.s.ter, but I'm still crunching the numbers to confirm it before I put it in the log."

"Ensign," Ra-Havreii said, pausing as he heard his voice emanate from Vennoss's combadge. "Is your a.n.a.lysis on that padd you're carrying?"

The Kriosian blinked. "Yes, sir."

"Would you let Commander Pazlar look at it a moment?"

"Yes, sir," Vennoss said, and she walked up to Pazlar and offered her the padd.

Pazlar stared at it for a second before she accepted it from the ensign. She paged through some of the ensign's facts and figures, and then she handed the padd back to Vennoss. "Thanks, Ensign. I look forward to reading your report."

"Aye, sir."

Ra-Havreii was satisfied with the test. "Thank you, Ensign," he said. "You can return to the bridge now."

Vennoss nodded, gave a small grin of relief, and exited the way she had come in. As soon as she was gone, Pazlar turned and beamed at Ra-Havreii. "Did you mean what you said? About this being able to go anywhere on the s.h.i.+p?"

"Indeed, I did." He strolled closer to her. "It took weeks," he continued, "but I'm fairly certain the holopresence system is fully integrated in all compartments and on all decks. Your holographic avatar is a completely faithful standin for you, and your s.h.i.+pmates' avatars in here should be able to represent them with near-perfect fidelity."

Teasing him every so slightly, she asked, "Near-perfect?"

"Well, all but perfect," he said. "But only to a point."

Perhaps because his reputation had preceded him once again, she asked, "And what, pray tell, might that point be?"

He was standing very near to her, close enough to be captivated by the delicate fragrance of her perfume. "I would say the simulation loses its value at precisely the point where the real thing would be eminently preferable."

She seemed quite amused. "That's a very discreet way of phrasing it."

"Well, yes," he said, flas.h.i.+ng a grin. "Discretion is a virtue, I'm told." He leaned toward her, a prelude to a kiss- She pulled away and stepped back. "I'm sorry," she said, avoiding eye contact with him. "I was just kidding around." She turned her back. "I hope I didn't lead you on."

He inhaled to sigh, then held his breath a moment. "No," he said, with as much tact and aplomb as he could muster. "I guess I just got carried away. If there was any error to be found here, it was mine, and I apologize."

"No apology needed," she said, half turning back toward him. "But thank you, anyway."

He bowed his head and showed his open palms next to his legs, a polite gesture of contrition and humility. Inside, however, he felt deeply ashamed. Seeing her empowered and happy had made him forget, just for a moment, that her emotions could be just as fragile as her physique.

Many months had pa.s.sed since Commander Tuvok, while temporarily under the telepathic influence of a s.p.a.ceborne ent.i.ty, had a.s.saulted Pazlar in the s.h.i.+p's main science lab. Not only had he harmed Pazlar physically, breaking some of her bones, he had forced critical information from her memory with a Vulcan mind-meld, a grotesque personal invasion. Since then, she had bravely confronted her fears by working with Tuvok to learn ways of defending herself, in spite of her physical limitations.

But there was no denying that the attack had changed her. She could be warm at times, even jovial-but since the attack she had become more distant, a little bit harder to reach. In a very real sense, she seemed even more isolated than she had before.

Ra-Havreii knew about emotional scars, unforgiven sins, and lingering pain. He still blamed himself for a fatal accident years earlier, in the engine room of t.i.tan's cla.s.s-prototype s.h.i.+p, the Luna. Everyone who had been there, and many others who hadn't, had tried to console him with empty plat.i.tudes: It wasn't your fault, Xin.

There's no way you could have known what would happen.

You have to move on.

He knew better. As the designer of the Luna cla.s.s, it had been his job to know what would happen. It had been his fault.

Some wounds, he had learned, could not be left behind. His past stayed with him, haunted him, reminded him always of his limitations. He saw shades of that same pain in Melora.

Efrosians often attuned themselves to one another's emotional needs; it was considered a foundation for intimacy, which in turn strengthened social bonds. So it came as no surprise to Ra-Havreii that Pazlar's profound physical and emotional vulnerabilities had awakened a protective side of his nature. That had, no doubt, been a subconscious factor in his tireless efforts to rebuild the stellar cartography interface and create the holopresence network for her.

He let his gaze linger a moment on her profile. Though he had enjoyed the attention of a wide range of female companions over the years, including a few on t.i.tan, such pleasures had always been fleeting. He sometimes suspected that his serial seductions were really little more than feeble distractions from his suppressed melancholy.

Faced with the emptiness of it all, he breathed a quiet sigh and watched Melora out of the corner of his eye.

I should ease up before I make myself fall in love with her. Besides, what would I do if she fell in love with me? A shadow of self-reproach darkened his mood. Don't be stupid, Xin. You don't deserve to be that lucky...not in this life or the next.