Star Trek_ A Choice of Catastrophes - Michael Schuster [49]
“These are complete environments, Captain,” she said, not looking up. “Supplying the Farrezzi with water, air, and nutrients.”
“Air?” Kirk asked. “Were they designed to protect them from the planet’s toxicity?”
She nodded. “I think so. They slow the body’s metabolism through a chemical means. The system also seems to need a constant supply of water. All of the pods are connected to a system drawing water from elsewhere, probably subsurface.”
The entire population had fled underground to avoid their planet’s environmental collapse. It was a risky move, but Kirk had seen civilizations that had destroyed themselves. “Impressive.”
“One more thing, sir,” Seven Deers said. “It looks like the control mechanisms for this facility are at the north end of this cavern, the area beneath the launching complex. If Yüksel is down here—”
“Then he might have headed—or been taken—in that direction.” Kirk flipped open his communicator. “All hands, this is the captain. Converge on my location. We’re heading to the part of the chamber beneath the launching complex. If Yüksel is down here, that’s where he’ll be.”
“Who would have taken him, sir?” asked Rawlins. “Everyone down here is asleep.”
“Good question, Lieutenant.” Kirk mulled over the possibilities. “My instinct is that it’s some Farrezzi, who stayed awake to guard this place. Yüksel may have set off some alarms.” The captain looked at the rows of pods, the bluish light illuminating the life-forms within them. Too bad this survey had to turn into a manhunt. “We can explore this place after we get him back.”
McCoy didn’t understand how the Enterprise could have encountered another of those space-time ripples at sub-light. Nevertheless, he’d made sure to keep himself safe this time, clinging to his desk at the first sign of trouble. This quick reaction meant, of course, that he was ready to spring into action once the bucking stopped.
One minute after the Enterprise hit the distortion, he ordered the nurses to go through sickbay and discharge anyone remotely fit for duty, anticipating more casualties. Thank goodness they’d already sent quite a few of them to their quarters early on. His comatose espers would have to wait. As McCoy changed into a clean surgical smock, he briefly considered what effect yet another delay in finding a treatment for their affliction might have, but pushed the thought aside.
Easy to ignore problems you’re not capable of handling, isn’t it?
There was Jocelyn’s voice. What was wrong with him? He’d been in stressful situations before, but he’d never heard voices.
I told you—you’re out of your depth this time, Leonard.
He’d have liked nothing more than to shut the voice up, but finding out how would have to wait. For now, he needed to get to work. McCoy rounded up the med techs and told them to double-check every cart and every tray, and if there was some item missing, they were to replace it. He couldn’t afford to waste time during emergency surgery.
Two minutes after the Enterprise hit the distortion, the first casualty was at his door: Petty Officer Carriere, who’d been flung by an exploding computer console. What the hell was going on out there? Dozens of lacerations all across the face, where little bits of metal had buried themselves with enormous force.
This was going to be ugly.
Burns, broken arms, cracked ribs, concussions, the gamut. McCoy was fairly certain that there wasn’t a single type of crash injury he hadn’t seen today. Injury reports kept on coming in over the comm, but they were having trouble just keeping up with what was already in sickbay.
Ten minutes after the Enterprise hit the distortion, he was examining a bruised lieutenant from the history department. She was sitting in a chair in his office, since all the biobeds were full—even those in the examination room.