The Murdered Sun - Christie Golden [61]
"Anahu and Kaavi must surely have had the right of it," Nata breathed at last, still taking in the staggering spectacle. "I had thought the simpler life was the right one, but obviously our ancestors--the K'shikkaa, as we must now properly call them--valued technology above all."
"Not true," interposed Chakotay swiftly, hearing a note of sorrow in his friend's voice. "You abandoned this ship because it was not meeting your needs. The K'shikkaa chose Veruna because it was verdant and fertile. Technology and nature can peacefully coexist. I know."
Nata suddenly smiled. "`I understand that a sun can be a huge ball of burning hydrogen, yet have a spirit. I think like the Verunans. That can only be an asset,'" she quoted, capturing Chakotay's earlier words to the letter. "It has been an asset, friend Chakotay. Now, we must turn our attention to the task of learning all this technology." She shrugged helplessly. "Still, Kaavi or Anahu would have been a better companion on this particular soul exploration than I would, it seems.
I do not know even where to start."
"Kaavi and Anahu would have been blasted to pieces by the Sentinel as trespassers," Chakotay reminded her. "You, as a Viha, knew the lore that deactivated the weapons and let us get this far. Well, I have some ideas as to where to start. Come on."
Forty seven long, annoying, distressing minutes later, every single idea that Chakotay had thought of had been explored, found ineffective, and discarded. He knew a lot about engineering systems and computers--as a commander of a Maquis crew who kept constantly leaping from one jury-rigged, stolen vessel to another, he had been forced to wear just about every hat there was. But B'Elanna knew more about engines, and Kim knew more about operations. Chakotay was a jack-of all-trades, and that availed little at the present moment.
There seemed to be no way to power up the equipment. No switch, no button--nothing Chakotay had tried vocal commands. He'd even had Nata try everything he had, on the theory that the elusive command controls would respond to a Verunan touch where they had remained cold to that of a human.
He was ready to admit defeat, call in B'Elanna or Kim, and chalk up the hour or so they'd just squandered to experience. Sighing heavily, he straightened from his uncomfortable position beneath a console and turned to face the Viha.
He didn't have to speak. She was learning to read human gestures, as he was learning to read Verunan, and read his regret in his eyes. Her own gaze fell, and she closed her eyes.
Automatically, her hand went to her Viha amulet, clasping it close as if the ritual metal talisman could offer comfort.
The light in the enormous chamber caught the metal, made it sparkle.
Chakotay had seen Nata do this often before. He was sure she wasn't even aware of the gesture. But suddenly, this time, his heart leaped.
The shape looked familiar, familiar in a different way than his repeated viewing of it around Nata's slim neck would indicate. His heart racing with excitement, he returned his attention to the console.
And there it was. Almost buried among other strange-shaped buttons, indentations, knobs, switches, and other gizmos was a fist-sized diamond impression in the white metal. Not a perfect diamond shape, no, there were notches and small, curvy holes as well--holes that Chakotay suspected would perfectly match Nata's "seal of office," as it were.
"Nata, come look at this," he said. She heard the tremor in his voice, and her whole body responded to the sound. Instantly alert, she was by his side in an instant.
"'You bear the emblem of your status,"' Chakotay quoted the Sentinel.
"Your amulet--I'm not sure, but I think it might be the key that will power this thing up!"
The console at which they stood was pentagonal in shape. Each of the five sides was waist-high to Nata, almost chest-high to Chakotay. The working area of each side was at least three meters long. There