The control room looks like a starship's bridge after a battle. Wrecked consoles are sparking and sputtering, and the air is full of smoke. Dyegh, at least, warned us about the force-field floors - they have winked out, and I can look down, unobstructed, into an abyss filled with machines, and see fires glowing deep down below.
Dyegh is hunched over his controls, quivering and saying something the universal translator won't process. Siffaith and Tyonovon are holding on to each other beside another console. Pearl is already working at a third. I steel myself, and leap across the gap to join her.
"Massive power surges," she says, "and... I think the last one was a warp core breach."
I swallow, hard. "The Tempest?"
She shakes her head. "No, sir. The Gendratis. I still have Tempest on positive track."
I close my eyes for a moment and sigh with relief. "Try to get a line to them. We're going to need help."
"I am engaging repair systems," Siffaith calls to me, unexpectedly. "There is much damage, but... the Home is stable. For the present, at least."
I leave Pearl to work, leap across the gap to join Siffaith. "What about your people?" I ask. "How badly were they hit?"
"No casualties. The - failures - all took place in machinery spaces. Our people are in secure accommodation areas. The force shields are on emergency backup, but they have held." Siffaith studies the console screen. "And I am still reading your ship, the Timor."
And that comes as an immense relief. "We'll need a line to them, too. How bad is the damage? What did Dyegh do?"
"Overloads," Dyegh's voice replies. "So much power - I diverted much of it to the accumulator banks, but the conduits themselves - overloaded. Secondary damage to the grid emitters, to the central modulators - ach! So much damage - it will take thousands of hours to repair, if it can be done at all...."
"How do you overload a superconducting conduit?" Pearl asks.
"At the power densities we're talking here, it sets up induction effects in the air around it," I say abstractedly, studying the readouts - the working readouts. "The air whiffs into plasma, and that, in turn, heats up and degrades the superconductor. Really, those power channels should be evacuated and sealed -"
"The vacuum seals degraded," says Dyegh. "Everything degrades - time, time is the enemy - and I am further back now than I was when I began -"
His voice sounds broken. "I'm sorry," I say. "If we can help - if you want our help -"
"There will be much to discuss, I think," says Siffaith.
There is a sudden sensation - not so much a sound, more a feeling, like a door slamming somewhere nearby, beneath us. I look down. The force field floors are active again. I shoot a questioning glance at Siffaith, then realize he can't read my expressions, any more than I can read his. "The floors are back," I say.
"Power systems are recircuiting. Auto-repairs are initiating - and fire suppression is online. The Home will survive, it will even heal itself."
"It always has, before," Tyonovon adds. "But - but you were right, Siffaith. We need to know how to fix things. How to deal with - problems."
Dyegh makes a noise. "So," he says, "I have driven one more of the People to question things, to learn... if this is all I can accomplish, I must learn to be content with that...."
"I think," says Siffaith, "that you have already accomplished much, Dyegh. Perhaps not what you meant to, but...." He and Tyonovon walk over the glassy force field to where Dyegh hunches over his console. I decide to leave them to it. I walk over to Pearl.
"Comms are coming back online," she says. "I have a data line to the Tempest, we're exchanging telemetry. Looks like they're fine." She straightens up, turns to face me, her metal eyes looking - intent, somehow. "I was wondering something, sir."
"What?"
She gestures at the Solanae where they huddle in a group. "Whether you'd have ordered me to use that gun. To threaten them. Make them cooperate."
What happened to the guns? Probably they fell into the interior of the spire when the floors winked out. "Of course not," I say.
She nods. "Commodore Fallon would have."
I snort. "It would have been the wrong thing to do. And it wouldn't have worked."
"And I wouldn't have done it. I would have refused an order like that. After which -" She shrugs. "Commodore Fallon would probably have had me returned, as defective equipment."
"You're not just equipment. And you're anything but defective." A thought strikes me. "Androids like you are scarce - a very limited resource. Personnel Division usually allocates only one to a ship, if that."
"I was assigned to the Tempest."
"Currently, that's T'Pia's command. De facto. And she has an android officer, already. Want to come and work for me, instead?"
"You're requisitioning me, sir?"
I look her straight in those metal eyes. "I'm asking you."
She nods, slowly. "I think I might like that, sir." Then she turns, swiftly, to look at the console. Something has caught her attention. I peer over her shoulder. "That's interesting."
"What is it?" I ask.
"Short range general hail. Broad frequency. Someone wants attention."
I grin. "I think I can guess who. Let's answer it."
"Sir?" She looks puzzled, but her fingers fly over the console interface, setting it up.
A panel lights up in midair, flickers for a moment, then displays a face - a dark, scaled face, with blue-green implants concealing the eyes. A voice accompanies it. "- calling any Voth station, requesting a status report. I repeat. This is Karzis -" He stops. Evidently, my face has come up on his screen, now.
"Hello again," I say. "I gather you're trying to raise your ship. Sorry, but that last big bang was its warp core going up. Our ships are just fine, though - well, the Tempest is a bit crowded, I guess. Crowded with highly trained, fully equipped Starfleet personnel, who're probably quite motivated to deal with the remaining Voth forces on this spire." I grin at him - or, at least, I bare my teeth. "So let's talk about you surrendering. Can we skip all the bluster about not taking orders from mammals? Because from where I'm sitting, I don't see you've got much choice."
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