Monday 25 January 2016

Heresy 4

T'Nir bent over the workbench, her fingers moving expertly among the components of the subspace radio, her ears shut to the incessant hissing, sifting sound of dust falling on the domed roof of the shelter. Her eyes were narrowed in concentration as she isolated the faulty transtator, removed it, slotted a replacement into position. So very few spares left, she thought.

Behind her, the door banged open, admitting a chill draught. She suppressed a sigh of irritation, and turned. The swathed figure before her unwound the outer wrappings from his head.

"Stileg. What is it?"

Stileg's lips were compressed into a hard line. "Is the subspace radio functional yet?"

"I have just now completed the repairs. I have not yet had time to make tests, but I am sure they will be satisfactory."

"Then you must contact the Andorians," Stileg said. There was a green weeping welt across his forehead; his head wound had not been properly cleaned before they had applied the dermal regenerator, and now dust was working out of his skin, tearing it and bringing with it risk of fresh infection - and the dermal regenerator, like so many other things, was broken now. "We have found more of our number, all of team three is now accounted for. Saral, Telik and T'Tal are dead, Vonot and T'Zen are seriously injured, beyond our current ability to meet their medical needs. They will die too unless aid is forthcoming. The Andorians have offered their aid, it is not logical to refuse it!"

He was shouting. "You are displaying emotion," T'Nir said. "Control yourself."

"I apologize. But the situation remains as I have stated it. We need aid. The dust in the air - Vonot and T'Zen need clean air, or their lung injuries will become irreparable. We cannot provide this ourselves, our filtration units and force field barriers are no longer operable."

"Construct a platform so that they may rest on an elevated location. The dust settles quickly, the air in the higher regions of our shelters will not be contaminated."

"It is unsafe to construct a platform! Tectonic activity is continuing. We lack the tools and materials to construct anything that will withstand the aftershocks. T'Nir, we must have help."

"I will... communicate a request for a supply drop to the Andorians," said T'Nir.

"It is not enough. We require specialist medical assistance at the very least. And the geological situation is still far from stable. A precautionary evacuation is clearly indicated."

"That is not possible. Director Stiak's orders are that we continue with the work."

"Stiak's logic is faulty!" Stileg was shouting, now, mental discipline and logic entirely forgotten. "If it were not for your personal involvement with him, you would see that!"

"Control yourself," T'Nir said forcefully. "Director Stiak is in charge of this project. He holds that position because of his knowledge and expertise. Logic dictates that we follow his directives. Logic also dictates that we continue our work, even in the current situation, because if we do not, valuable discoveries may be lost to the tectonic instability. I believe these points are valid, disregarding any personal relationship which I may or may not have with Director Stiak. Do you not agree? Use your logic, Stileg."

Stileg was subsiding, now, clearly ashamed of his loss of control. "I bow to your decision. Will you confirm a supply drop from the Andorians?"

"As soon as my repairs are completed, which will be a matter of minutes now. I will make it my first priority. I do not wish Vonot or T'Zen to die, any more than you do."

"Of course."

"If that is all, I will return to my work." She turned back to the workbench. After a moment, she heard Stileg leave the shelter.

It is wrong for Vulcans to show in their faces what should be held in the heart, she told herself. I have not shown emotion, I have remained strong. But, Stiak, choice of my heart, I pray that you are right. I pray that your actions are correct, and that our losses have meaning.

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