Synthesis - James Swallow [129]
“I didn’t do anything,” Torvig replied. “She knew the right course of action. I just reminded her of it.” He glanced around. “As for her reactivation—”
“One thing at a time,” said Riker, approaching a mixed group of Sentry drones lying in a heap by a cargo lighter. “Lieutenant?”
“Aye, Captain?” said Radowski.
“Show our uninvited guests the door.”
The transporter chief worked the console. “Tags scanned and locked in. All transporters daisy-chaining for mass beam-out.” He ran his hands up the activator slides. “Energizing.”
The assembled drones dissipated into blue sparkles and faded. The effects of the pulse had also included disruption of the scattering fields the drones had been generating, preventing accurate sensor scans or transporter lock-ons. Even so, Riker was taking no chances and had ordered each inert machine tagged with a transponder marker.
All except one. As the transport glitter faded away, a single undamaged sphere drone remained alone on the deck. Dennisar and his team stepped in and surrounded it, each armed with a fully charged and ready pulse-emitter-adapted rifle.
“Confirming, intruder units safely rematerialized,” said Radowski, reading off his screen. “I put them close to the nearest Sentry ship. They’re sending out recovery teams as I speak.”
“Are you sure this is the best approach?” Christine came closer. “Returning the drones? I mean, they did just try to kill us all.”
“Red-Gold was the architect of this attack,” said White-Blue, cautiously approaching the bronze drone sphere. “It is but one faction of the Sentries.”
“The one now in charge, it would seem,” said the first officer.
“The communications intercepts we’re getting are inconclusive,” offered Deanna. “It appears that whatever rebellion Red-Gold and his cohorts were hoping for, the capture of the Titan was a key part of it. As it is, it looks as if his opposition to the rest of the Governance Kernel has only resulted in a stalemate.”
White-Blue’s head drooped. “There have been disagreements in my society before but never armed revolt. I fear this may split us down the middle, just when unity is most crucial.”
“All the more reason to find another solution,” Riker told the machine. “Boot up our friend here, will you?”
“As you wish.” White-Blue stepped in and applied a manipulator tip to a concealed panel on the side of the spherical drone. After a moment, the other machine righted itself, and a harsh crimson glow grew in the middle of its sensor band. Panels across the surface of the globe fluttered, and Riker was reminded of a bird shaking off water after a downpour.
“Contact regained. Drone connection locked.” The sphere turned in place and found Riker, and he had the very real sense that it was glaring at him. “Interrogative: How did you accomplish this, organic?” demanded Red-Gold. “Did the renegade help you?”
“Renegade?” echoed Deanna.
“Red-Gold is referring to me,” said White-Blue.
“No.” Riker stepped forward, past Dennisar and the line of his men. “We did this, my crew. We’ve had the capacity to neutralize your functions for quite a while now. I only gave the order to do so because you left us no other choice.”
“That is a falsehood,” brayed the sphere, but its tone betrayed uncertainty.
The captain had no idea if the Sentries knew enough about human physiology to interpret a bluff, but Riker put on his best poker face anyway. It always worked on Data. “You can consider that a warning shot. Your remote drones and those of your fellows were rendered inactive, and we could have easily destroyed you while we had the chance. We could have dismantled you the way you wanted to dismantle my ship.”
“Instead, you released my drones. Interrogative: Why?”
Riker let his wife field that one. “When we met before, we told you that the tenets of our Federation compel us to embrace force only as a final option. We came here in peace, and we still hope for that. We have no wish to escalate a conflict.”
“Your action against the FirstGen, your assault on this vessel, these were errors,