Synthesis - James Swallow [43]
This was the heart of System 223, the thriving core of what considered itself life here. Dominating everything in the orbital zone were multiple moons, drifting and stately, each one bathing in its own unseen funnel of flux energy, rising from the tumultuous world below.
Riker studied the planet on the main screen. If ever a world could have looked like a piece of hell cut away and thrown into the stars, it was this one.
“Extremely high levels of thermionic and other radiation sources, sir,” reported Y’lira from the science station. “It’s putting out frequencies across the whole spectrum, everything from Berthold to Zeta.”
“A Class-Y planet,” said Tuvok.
“Demon-class,” added Vale, studying the readouts on a repeater screen. “I never really understood why they called them that, until now. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Troi glanced up at the Vulcan. “Didn’t you encounter a world like this in the Delta quadrant, Commander?”
Tuvok nodded. “Indeed, during an operation to mine deuterium for the Starship Voyager’s stores. However, that planet was of a considerably smaller mass than this one and of markedly differing composition.”
“Deuterium… Y’lira, do you think we could do the same here, top up our tanks?” asked Riker.
“Negative, Captain,” said the Selenean. “From what I can read of the surface, which admittedly isn’t much, it seems like a largely sorium-talgonite structure. Chief Bralik could give you a better idea, but I believe that if there is deuterium down there, it would be in only trace quantities. However, those planets we passed on the way in, they’re a much better bet.” She hesitated. “Something else I should mention. So far, the scanners have detected no organic life within sensor range, not even preanimate matter. There’s nothing alive in this system except us.”
“Nothing flesh-and-blood, anyway,” said Troi.
Vale frowned. “When Melora first told me about this system, she said the properties of it seemed engineered, almost artificial.” She pointed toward the screen. “Those moons out there. Am I the only one who thinks they look too regular?”
“I was just thinking the same thing,” offered Lieutenant Lavena. “Since we entered orbit, I’ve noted a zeropoint-two-six adjustment in the trajectories of the closest satellites.”
“Tuvok,” said Riker. “What are we seeing out there?”
The Vulcan’s eyebrow rose slightly as he ran a tactical analysis. “Curious. It would appear that Lieutenant Commander Pazlar was correct in her assumption. The satellites are near-perfect spheres, corresponding to one another in mass and dimension with less than a five-percent variation. Their structures appear to be composed of alloys of copper and zinc, iron and carbon.”
Lieutenant Rager turned in her chair. “Brass and steel?”
“Affirmative,” said Tuvok. “They are not moons.”
“They’re space stations,” Troi concluded. “Manufactured constructs. They must draw power from the planet’s raw thermionic flux.”
“Unlimited free energy.” Vale nodded. “The question is, what is it driving?”
“Let’s find out,” said the captain. He tapped his combadge. “Ensign Dakal? Give me a tie-in with our guest, full secure protocols.”
“Confirmed, sir,” came the reply. “You may proceed.”
“White-Blue, what are these constructs?” he asked.
The AI’s filtered voice replied, “These are the FirstGen. The primary iterations of the Sentry. My progenitors.”
“They’re computers,” said Y’lira. “That explains