Distant Shores - Marco Palmieri [8]
“All decks show ready,” Tuvok noted. “Except engineering.”
“Bridge to Lieutenant Carey,” Janeway called.
“Carey here,” came the reply.
“Why isn’t engineering ready for red alert?” the captain demanded. Whatever lethargy had been in her voice before was gone now. Chakotay stole a look at the captain’s expression and it likely mirrored his own. Engineering was a definite weak area, one that needed serious attention, maybe with some of his own people taking on larger roles, starting with Torres. But that would have to wait.
“Taking a bit longer than I thought to clear our work. We had a lot of open panels. We’re… engineering now reports ready.”
“Faster next time. Bridge out.” Turning to Chakotay she noted, “We have to start restaffing our departments, then training them. That’ll be topic one at the meeting.” As he nodded in agreement, she was already looking up at Tuvok and demanded, “What the hell was that?”
“A form of energy,” Tuvok began. Janeway snapped around in the opposite direction looking at Kim, who was shaking hair from his eyes. He continued to run through a series of screens, ignoring the impatient captain. Chakotay recognized that eager-to-please look and idly wondered how long it would be before that got rubbed off him.
“Paris, all stop, go to stationkeeping,” Chakotay ordered.
“All stop, aye,” Paris said crisply.
The agonizing silence was finally broken when Kim, his eyes clouded with confusion, said, “It’s unknown, ma’am.”
Janeway shook her head in disbelief. Twisting herself the other way, she looked at her tactical officer.
“No vessels appear on sensors.”
“Neither did that energy discharge, Tuvok. I want answers.”
“Understood.” Tuvok once more bent over his station and reran the sensor logs from just before the first explosion to now. He also acknowledged the reports of minor injuries and the lack of structural damage.
“The energy is of a type previously uncatalogued,” Kim finally answered.
“I don’t understand,” Seska said from behind Tuvok.
“Our sensors are calibrated to read only what they’re programmed to find. Anything else may as well be invisible,” Chakotay explained. She still looked attractive, despite the subdued red lighting, he noted. Their affair had been tempestuous but satisfying, the right relationship at the right time, but it had ended before Tuvok or even Paris entered their lives. She was a trusted confidant and the first to stand beside him in a dispute. That she survived their ordeals to date pleased him no end.
“Captain, we may have triggered something,” Kim started to say. Tuvok looked across the bridge at the young ensign, studying his moves, learning about him more from observation than actual conversation, something he needed to remedy in the days to come. Frustrated by inaction, the captain walked to the upper deck and stood before Kim, restraining herself from actually standing beside him in the cramped space of his station.
“Triggered what, Mr. Kim?”
“It appears that our warp bubble may have triggered a minefield. Now that I know what to look for, I’m reading a chain of linked objects.”
“Linked how, Mr. Kim?” Janeway asked, restoring a sense of decorum to the bridge. The panic, for now, had ended, and it was time to investigate before proceeding.
“I’m accessing Mr. Kim’s work,” Tuvok said. He began reading the new telemetry, adding minute adjustments, refining what it was they were looking at. Everyone seemed to be waiting for him to finish working before they