Synthesis - James Swallow [62]
The ensign blinked. “He told me to come. In his place.”
“Typical Xin,” said Lieutenant Commander Pazlar. “He hates meetings.”
“I’m not fond of them, either.” Captain Riker sat in the pilot’s chair of the skiff. The seat was turned to face into the cabin, and out the canopy behind him the curve of Titan’s primary hull could be seen overhead, like a stark gray-white sky. Commander Troi sat in the copilot’s seat, while Vale and Pazlar were at the operations stations. Only Tuvok stood along with the ensign.
“We should begin,” said the Vulcan, and after a nod from the captain, he moved to activate a portable device resting against one of the bulkheads.
“Sir, is this about the computer—?” Torvig began to speak, but Riker silenced him with a shake of his head. It was then that the ensign noticed that most of the skiff’s internal systems were powered down; only a library terminal and a life-support monitor were functioning.
“You may experience some minor discomfort, Ensign,” noted Tuvok.
Torvig wasn’t sure what he meant, but in the next second, the device came on with a train of blinking indicators across its surface, and the Choblik stumbled as if he had lost his balance. He caught himself and shook his head. From nowhere, an unpleasant buzzing hum sounded through his audial augmentations, and there was a blurring effect across his optical implants.
“Sorry, Torvig,” said Commander Vale. “That’s a localized EM-field generator. The interference effect is going to disrupt some of your bionic implants.”
“I, uh, see.” He blinked at the device. It was essentially a jamming system, capable of disrupting electronic functions such as data transfer and monitoring. Immediately, he understood that it had been deployed by Tuvok as a countersurveillance precaution.
“We can’t take any chances,” said Riker. He tapped a few controls, and Torvig heard the faint thud of magnetic bolts securing themselves. “There. We’re now isolated from all the systems aboard the Titan. The EM emitter will put a bubble of white noise around the La Rocca, so anyone who wants to listen in to what we have to say will be out of luck.” He sighed. “This is a little more cloak-and-dagger than I would have liked, but I hope you all understand the need for security.”
“Better than a dark, cold corridor,” muttered Vale.
“Ah.” Torvig nodded to himself. “This explains the paper notes. Anything committed to a padd would be machine-readable by the Titan’s computers.”
“The low-tech but direct method is sometimes the best,” said Troi.
“The same with our combadges,” said Pazlar. “They could also be co-opted, that’s why Pava took them.”
Torvig felt a small thrill. The clandestine nature of the meeting was exciting in its own way. But then he considered the deeper meaning of the reasons behind it, and the emotion died away, replaced by a nervous fear. If they were taking precautions like this, on their own vessel, then the situation had to be grave. A worrisome thought suddenly occurred to him. With all of them here aboard the La Rocca, if Titan’s computer wanted to rid itself of the captain and the other officers, all it would take would be an override of the skiff’s docking controls to eject it into space. He swallowed hard and pushed the idea away.
“Let’s get down to this,” said Riker. “We need options, and we need them quickly. This situation is spiraling out of our control. The Sentries have rolled over our concerns, they’ve damaged any trust we were building with them, and now they’re backing us into a corner.”
“There’s only so far they can go before we start pushing back,” said Vale. “They must understand that?”
“I genuinely believe they are well meaning,” said Troi, countering the commander’s sharp tone. “But admittedly, they are applying their charity with a good deal of force behind it.”
“Where I come from, we’d call that intimidation,” Vale noted grimly.
Torvig observed the interaction between the two humans with interest. Both females displayed admirable qualities, great courage, and strength