Forwarded by the ASC-VSO Posted: 24 May 2004 20:35:03 -0700 In: alt.startrek.creative From: daria@ameritech.net (Daria) Title: Salvage Author: Daria Series: ENT Part: 6/11 Rating: [PG-13] Codes: Tu, R Summary: After the disasterous mission on Dorlog, Trip and Reed try Beta: This was beta'ed by A. who did an amazing job. You have no idea how much she improved this story. Absolutely fabulous beta reader. The mistakes are mine for continuing to mess with it. Spoilers: Notably Minefield, Desert Crossing, Silent Enemy, The Catwalk, Shuttlepod One, and The Communicator, but possibly alludes slightly to other eps from the first two seasons. Disclaimer: All the characters belong to Paramount, not me. This is just for fun, not for profit. Feedback: Always appreciated, especially constructive criticism. *** Malcolm sidled around the building's corner, keeping his back plastered against the wall, and managing to stay in the foot wide shadow the roof floodlights couldn't illuminate. "Careless, not checking to see if there were any shadows. Sloppy security work," he whispered to Trip. Trip couldn't help grinning. Malcolm actually seemed disappointed in the security lapses, taking it as an affront that any security personnel could be so inept; the fact that it made their mission easier was beside the point. Earlier,they had walked around the building, staying well back from it, identifying its vulnerabilities. Malcolm had selected a poorly lit area to breach the fence, and they'd made short work of it. Now they were working their way to a small door they'd noted on the opposite side of the building. Malcolm pulled out the tools he would need to break in as they continued to slink around the building. Reaching the door, he prepared to use the tool he held. Trip put up a hand to stop him. "Wait a second." He reached over and grabbed the knob, slowly twisting it. When there was a soft click and he was able to push it open an inch he grinned. "Always try the easy way first," he whispered. Malcolm shook his head, again clearly disappointed in the security measures. He lifted one hand and motioned for Trip to stay back. Slowly pushing the door open a few inches he slid one arm in, testing for a reaction. When there was none, he slid half his body in. When that also brought no reaction, he pushed the door open a little further, took a quick look, and disappeared through the door. He popped his head back out and made a jerking motion with his head, indicating Trip should follow him. Then he disappeared into the dark gap. Trip followed, considerably less stealthily. He stepped inside and stopped, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. Malcolm was a few feet ahead of him. He, too, had halted. "Do you hear that?" Malcolm whispered. Trip listened, and after a few seconds he detected a soft humming sound. "Yes," he whispered back. "What is it?" Malcolm shrugged. He was moving again, and Trip followed him, finding that he could now see a little bit. A small strip of light came from a door on the opposite side of the room. Malcolm went to it and paused, and then leaned forward to press his ear against the door, at the same time using his scanner to check for biosigns. He frowned at the readings and conducted another scan before pulling a small flashlight from his pocket. In the darkness, the small light seemed very bright. Trip took out his own light but didn't turn it on. He joined Malcolm's at the door. "What did the scan show?" "There isn't anyone close. The nearest biosign is at least a hundred meters away. Truly amazing." Malcolm was speaking quietly, but wasn't bothering to whisper. "I don't know if they have other security monitoring going on, so I'd rather not turn on the lights. They may have surveillance cameras." "Yeah." Trip glanced around the room. With Malcolm's light providing some illumination, he could see that it was an office. There was a desk, with what looked to be a computer monitor on it, several chairs, and an assortment of shelves loaded with books and manuals. Trip walked over to the desk and opened the top drawer. "Commander!" "What?" "What are you doing?" "Just looking. Who knows what we'll find." Trip continued exploring the desk, while Malcolm made a circuit of the room, shining his light in the corners, checking for surprises. When he was satisfied he returned to the desk where Trip had taken a seat and was studying the computer. Tentatively Trip reached out and tapped a key. The screen sprang to life, and Trip smiled. "Now we're in business," he told Malcolm. He activated his scanner. Hoshi had downloaded the UT program to it, making certain the Dorlogian language portion was updated with the dialect she had discovered in the "sales pitch" they had heard. Trip got to work. For the next hour Malcolm guarded the door while Trip showed some of the ability that had made him Archer's top choice for Chief Engineer on Enterprise. Using the translation program, he searched the computer for information that might be of use to them, or for any files with information on Starfleet technology. Periodically he would stop to stretch, and occasionally Malcolm would come to look over his shoulder, but for the most part the hour passed in silence. Finally Trip sighed and tapped a few last keys. "I think that's it." He began flipping through page after page of schematics, diagrams, and text files. He paused as a file caught his attention. He skimmed it, and then opened a connected file. After reading just a few lines, he closed it, feeling vaguely ill. He sat back in the chair, letting his hands drop into his lap as the implications of what he had seen began to sink in. He glanced up at Malcolm, who had taken to pacing the room, investigating it more thoroughly. "We were set up," Trip whispered. "What?" Busy skimming a manual he had found, Malcolm hadn't heard Trip clearly. "Nothing." Trip hastily downloaded all information he had found to his padd, and then put it away for later reference. He pulled up the schematic on the larger desk computer, and then called Malcolm over. "Take a look at this." *** "Here." Malcolm pointed out the spot on the screen. "This is the control room. And this..." he pointed to another spot that was on the opposite side of the schematic, "is the generator. The weapons themselves are... here." Trip studied the schematic. The distance between the three critical locations was a serious complication. They would have to separate. Trip pulled up the plans for the generator itself, and groaned. "What is it?" Malcolm leaned over his shoulder. As he realized what he was seeing he let out a low whistle. He reached forward and touched the screen lightly, tracing a line. "So they've got the weapons acting as security for the complex. Clever. The generator powers the weapons, but if the generator goes off- line the weapons sense that their power has been cut and use a stored energy burst to fire. And if any of the weapons are destroyed, there is a feedback loop that is interrupted and the generator causes the other weapons to automatically fire. The only way to deactivate the system is to deactivate the weapons first, without damaging them, and then deactivate the generator." "Fire at what? It would be counterproductive to have the weapons fire at the generator to destroy it. So what do they fire at?" Trip asked, more to himself than to Malcolm. Malcolm shook his head. "We'd have to look at the weapon targeting circuitry... or the targeting protocol. Did you find anything that could be it?" Trip scrolled to another screen. "What about this?" They watched as the translator program Trip had installed changed the words and numbers on the screen from Dorlogian to English. "I think that's it." Malcolm pulled up a chair and sat beside Trip. "It looks like..." he pulled his padd from his pocket and entered a few numbers. "Space. These coordinates..." he tapped a line of numbers displayed on the screen, "are in the area immediately surrounding the planet. These ones..." he again tapped the screen indicating several rows of numbers, "outline a perimeter. An area of space above this complex, that the weapons can protect." "Why?" Trip asked. "Why not protect the area around the generator?" Malcolm gave a small laugh that held no humor. "It's brilliant. I underestimated them." When Trip just stared at him, Malcolm continued. "Think about it, Commander. Where does the greatest danger to this complex come from? We had to hike in, couldn't even get a shuttlepod closer than thirty kilometers, really. They have natural protection from the terrain from any sort of attack by ground. No wonder they don't bother much with security. Their only real concern is a threat from space, so they've established an area that they're monitoring, and they protect the weapons and generator *with the weapons themselves*! And they've set it up so that if someone attacks the generator from space, they'll be fired on-- even if the generator is destroyed." "Monitoring?" Trip asked slowly. "Malcolm, *are they keeping constant surveillance on that area of space? Right now?*" Malcolm's posture stiffened. Frantically, he reached over and tapped another few keys, searching for a specific file. When he couldn't find it he stood up and began pacing. Placing his hand on his hips, he dropped his head and studied the floor, concentrating. Trip remained silent, letting him think, but continued searching the files for anything that would answer their question. Finally Malcolm spoke. "It must be targeting Enterprise. It's the only thing that makes sense. It would have to target *something*, for the security to be of any use. We'll have to assume the ship is being followed." "So if we take the generator off line, the weapons will fire at Enterprise." Trip took a moment to think. "Maybe we can get Enterprise to move out of the area being watched. We can send up the coordinates and Travis can just stay outside of them." "That's a good start, but we can't assume that the weapons won't continue tracking them. We'll still have to find a way to disrupt this feedback mechanism." "Tucker to Enterprise." Trip lost no time in trying to contact Enterprise. Nothing. Trip tried again. "Tucker to Enterprise." This time there was a slight hiss of static. "The electromagnetic field is too strong in here." Trip snapped his communicator shut and shoved it back in his pocket. "We knew that was likely. Or maybe they realized they were being targeted and moved out of the area. Okay, we're on our own for now. We need to get those weapons off-line before something happens to make them fire at Enterprise." Malcolm had conducted another scan of the area. "Whatever we do, we need to do it quickly. I can't believe it will be much longer before someone needs to check something or other in here. I wish we knew with certainty what would happen to the generator if we deactivate the weapons." "There has to be some way to do maintenance on the generator and the weapons," Trip mused. "Maybe they *do* just shut off the weapons for a while. There must be some way to turn them off." "We'll have to wait until we get a good look at the weapon control room before we can tell." Trip thought out loud, "So we have to deactivate the weapons, and then the generator, and then destroy the weapons. Any other order and the weapons will fire as part of the protective mechanism. So as long as we can deactivate the weapons, we should be fine." "I hope so. We need to look at the equipment first hand, but that should be our plan." *** Malcolm slid out the door, staying in the shadows, scanner in hand. Looking around carefully, not trusting the scanner as much as he trusted his own senses, he verified that no one was around. He stopped to wait for Trip, who had lingered to delete all the files related to Starfleet from the computer. Trip moved more awkwardly than Malcolm, not accustomed to working in the shadows and staying hidden. It wasn't what he was trained for. Next to him, Malcolm was a bundle of suppressed energy, gesturing for Trip to hurry and insisting they move to an alcove where they were protected from view. "Commander, the generator is that way," Malcolm pointed to the right of where they stood. "It's about fifty meters. Can you go get ready to deactivate the generator? I'll go deactivate the weapons. When they're off-line and you're ready, just deactivate the generator, and we can take care of destroying the weapons after that." "I've been thinking. I don't think this is such a good idea, Malcolm. Once that generator goes off, it's going to get real busy here. We need to have the explosives set around the weapons already, so we can blow them as soon as the generator is off-line." "Fine. But whatever we plan on doing, we need to do it quickly. It will be morning soon, and this place is going to be full of people. We might have to wait until tomorrow night," Malcolm said. "That just increases the odds of our being discovered. I'd like to get this over with tonight." "So would I, but I'm not willing to risk being discovered, or hurting innocent people when the explosives go off. It's going to take us a long time to set the explosives-- by the time we're done, people will be arriving. We'll set the explosives in place tonight, and tomorrow night we'll deactivate the weapons and generator, and then blow the weapons on the way out, remotely." Trip made the command decision, feeling good that he finally had taken control of events. He took that sting from his words though by smiling as he added, "I guess we didn't bring too many explosives after all." *** "We've got to destroy the generator. You know that, don't you?" Malcolm asked. They were back in their hiding spot, outside the fence surrounding the complex. The planet's sun was just rising to their left, north on this planet. It had taken them most of the night to locate all the weapons and plant explosives. Tonight, they would destroy the machinery built from the stolen Starfleet technology. As they had worked on the equipment, they had found the generator and weapons were closely linked. Too closely. The generator contained elements of the weapons technology integrated into it. They couldn't leave it intact. "Yeah, I know it," Trip said irritably. He was exhausted, and Malcolm's pointing out the obvious didn't help. He ran his hand through his hair, trying to bring it under control, but after a day of hard hiking and climbing, and then a strenuous night of crawling in, under, and around large pieces of equipment, it was beyond taming. "But those people will survive. They'll lose their power source for a while. Maybe for a long time. But they haven't had this generator for very long-- they should be able to go back to their steam system pretty quickly." "I'd feel a lot better if we knew that for sure," Malcolm said. "So would I. But there are some real powerful weapons hooked up to this thing-- weapons that don't belong in this sector. And they're working with some people who are aren't very honest. Corman's gonna sell these weapons to the highest bidder-- then what will happen to these people? Who knows if they'd even live up to their end of the bargain? Whoever buys these weapons could really do some harm, and unbalance this sector. It's not an ideal solution, Malcolm, but it is the best thing for us to do." "You're right. I know. I just don't like it." Something in Malcolm's voice made Trip turn to look at him. Malcolm's face was haggard and drawn with exhaustion, and there was an emotion that Trip couldn't identify in his eyes. Malcolm was more disturbed by the events than Trip had realized "Something else bugging you?" "Of course." Malcolm wouldn't meet Trip's eyes. "What do you mean, 'of course'?" Malcolm sighed. "Commander, you do realize this situation is our fault, don't you? If we had never set foot on Dorlog, this technology would never have been given to these people, and we wouldn't be taking it away from them now. Can you imagine what it will like for them tomorrow, when they wake up to no power, no weather shield, and no defenses for their colony? True, they didn't have it a few months ago, but it is still going to cause some suffering to have it all suddenly snatched away. I wish it hadn't happened." "Malcolm, *it is not our fault*." Trip spoke each word slowly and separately, giving them additional weight. "We didn't give the technology to them. In fact, we didn't *give* it to anyone at all. If you'll recall, it was stolen from us. I'd think you'd remember." Trip hadn't meant to sound so sarcastic, but he was tired, and spoke before he thought. "Oh, I remember very well, thank you," Malcolm said, his voice cold. Trip flushed, but continued. "Then you'll realize that we are *not* the responsible parties here." "Oh, but we are." Trip was a little surprised that Malcolm was persisting in this line of thinking. The armory officer was not usually so philosophical. "How are we responsible? And don't tell me it's because we told stuff." "No, it's not that-- not exactly. Think about it, Commander. How much time did we spend researching Dorlog? We should have been aware that they had very limited weapons access, and that criminals might be highly interested in Enterprise. We should have found out that they had such a problem with syndicated crime and weapons trafficking. It wouldn't have taken much. T'Pol is always advising such caution, and I think she's right. If we'd taken just a bit of time before announcing that we were from a high tech Starship, and wanted some highly technical repair parts, we might have anticipated this. Well, not *this*, exactly, but we could have been more cautious. If they didn't know our level of weapons sophistication, they might not have thought to ask. Personally, I rather wish they hadn't." "You have a point, Malcolm," Trip admitted. "And if you're trying to say we should listen to T'Pol's warnings more-- and yours for that matter-- I'll grant you that. Maybe we should have anticipated the interest. But I gotta disagree about that making us responsible for what was done with the information. You said it yourself; the people that did this were criminals, and not just petty criminals, either. That Director Corzac, and Corman-- they're evil men. Evil men will do evil things. We got trapped in it, against our wills, but that don't make us responsible." Trip was adamant. In his intensity, his accent became thicker, and he abandoned grammar, but he made his point perfectly. "Maybe." It was all Malcolm would give on the point, Trip knew. But then, Malcolm probably felt more responsible for the information that had leaked. He shouldn't, Trip thought, but he probably did. The majority of the information that had been stolen for this device had come from him. It was something they were both aware of that, but neither mentioned. It was too sensitive a subject for discussion right now. The file he had briefly seen, but tried not to read, came to his mind. He pushed the thought aside. The two men were silent for a time, keeping careful watch to make sure they were not discovered, each lost in their own thoughts. "It's gonna make a hell of a boom ya know," Trip said finally. Malcolm smiled, a rare, full smile. "Oh, yes. It should be magnificent. If the timing is just right and they all go off simultaneously, Enterprise should be able to see if from orbit. I've asked Hoshi to record it, so I can look at it later." "You're nuts, you know that?" "I suppose." "But it is gonna be damn impressive." They fell silent again, a more comfortable silence then they'd shared in some time. The rising sun was warm, and Trip felt himself starting to drift, dozing. He shook himself. They needed to stay awake, keep watch for any signs that their work of the evening before had been discovered. Glancing over, he saw his crewmate's eyes were also at half-mast. "We need ta stay awake," Trip warned sternly, but his point was diluted by a large yawn that made Malcolm chuckle. "Perhaps we should take shifts, so we can each get a little sleep. Commander, you get some rest and I'll wake you in two hours." "Sure you can stay awake alone?" Trip asked. "I think I can manage," was the amused reply. Trip found a spot under a tree with relatively few rocks, and within moments he was asleep. Malcolm smiled. Taking advantage of the rare quiet, he retrieved his padd and settled back to resume reading his novel. *** -- Forwarded to ASCL by: Stephen Ratliff ASC Stories Only Forwarding In the Pattern Buffer at: http//trekiverse.crosswinds.net/feed/ ASCL is a stories-only list, no discussion. Comments and feedback should be directed to alt.startrek.creative or directly to the author. Yahoo! Groups Links <*> To visit your group on the web, go to: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ASCL/ <*> To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to: ASCL-unsubscribe@yahoogroups.com <*> Your use of Yahoo! Groups is subject to: http://docs.yahoo.com/info/terms/ From ???@??? Tue May 25 22:42:45 2004 X-Persona: Status: U Return-Path: Received: from n41.grp.scd.yahoo.com ([66.218.67.16]) by killdeer (EarthLink SMTP Server) with SMTP id 1bsOlD6OK3NZFlr0 for ; Tue, 25 May 2004 19:40:53 -0700 (PDT) X-eGroups-Return: sentto-1977044-13629-1085539249-stephenbratliffasc=earthlink.net@returns.groups.yahoo.com