The Brave and the Bold Book Two - Keith R. A. DeCandido [32]
“Who is now a man without a ship,” Mastroeni said, grateful for the opening.
Torres shrugged. “He’ll pick up another one. Probably some junk heap I’ll have to beat into shape, like usual.”
“You know, we could use a good engineer here. The Liberator obviously likes your touch.”
“I don’t think it’d work.” Torres grinned. “Chakotay and Hudson on the same ship would just get ugly.”
Mastroeni started to ask why they needed Chakotay, but she cut herself off. Torres had thought the offer was being extended to the entire cell. “Yeah, that would,” she said slowly. “Of course, you could just come over yourself.”
Before Torres could answer, the door opened to reveal Tuvok. The Vulcan had changed into a shirt that was tailored for a person twice his size—probably one of Cal’s, Mastroeni thought—and pants that had been rolled up at the ankles. On anyone else such garb would have looked foolish, but, much as Mastroeni hated to admit it, Tuvok wore it with dignity.
Her hand automatically went to her phaser. “What do you want, Vulcan?”
“I was seeking out Ms. Torres. Ms. McAdams informed me that she would be here.”
“We’re having a private conversation,” Mastroeni said.
“That’s all right,” Torres said, setting down her mug and walking over to the Vulcan. “What is it, Tuvok?”
Cursing, Mastroeni set down her own mug and also walked over to the Vulcan, who was holding a padd. Obviously, her attempt to recruit Torres had failed. Still, she didn’t trust the Vulcan—and she wasn’t at all happy that he was gallivanting around the Liberator unescorted. She made a mental note to talk to Hudson about that later.
“I have been perusing the data on the Malkus Artifacts from the Rector Institute—where the first two artifacts are being studied,” he added at Torres’s quizzical look, “as well as sensor data from the Odyssey, Rio Grande, Enterprise, and Constellation.”
Frowning, Mastroeni asked, “You got all that from the Hood?”
“Before I departed, yes, I made copies of all that data.”
“You expect me to believe that Starfleet ships carry around sensor data from hundred-year-old missions?”
“Of course,” Tuvok said as if such a colossal waste of computer storage were the most natural thing in the galaxy.
Torres nodded. “He’s right, actually. You never know when you may need a piece of information from an old mission. And Starfleet computers have a lot of storage space.”
Mastroeni still thought it a waste, but at this point she was staring a gift horse in the mouth. This information might help them deal with this crazed Andorian and his weapon. “What’ve you found?”
“The sensor data that the ships have been able to accumulate—combined with the usual advances in sensor technology—means that we might be able to get a transporter lock on the artifact when we find it.”
Tuvok handed Torres the padd. She studied the data on the screen, but shook her head. Mastroeni looked over her shoulder and saw that the screen had several different sensor readings on different sections of the viewing area, including recent readings from the Liberator’ s own scans.
“These readings are too scattershot. Maybe—maybe—if you got the thing onto a transporter pad, then the two consoles working together could get a lock, or if you put some kind of homing device on the thing, but that’s the only way to do it.”
“My combadge could easily serve such a function,” Tuvok said.
Mastroeni snorted. That combadge was currently in Hudson’s possession, surrendered to him when Tuvok changed clothes. She had been suspicious that he had left the device on—it was the easiest way for Starfleet to track him down—but simply said, “What does this mean in plain words?”
“I had hoped that we would be able to get a transporter lock on the artifact when we arrived at the Slaybis system and simply confiscate it that way. Unfortunately, as we have seen, this will not be possible.”
A thought occurred to Mastroeni.