The Romulan War_ Beneath the Raptor's Wing (Book 1) - Michael A. Martin [14]
That surprised him even more than her previous statement had. “I don’t understand.”
“There’s nothing for me to do here, Captain,” she said, an edge of frustration sharpening her tone. “Professionally speaking, I mean. I’m a linguist, and a ship devoted to exploration can provide a linguist with more than enough challenging work. But that’s all changed now that Starfleet’s main priority has shifted to defense and war.”
“Where will you go?” he asked, spreading his hands before him. “It’s not as though the exploration game is going to look any better on any of Starfleet’s other ships of the line. Not while the war is going on.”
She nodded. “I’m thinking of going back to Earth.”
“What can you do on Earth that you can’t do out here?”
“Every human language provides a window into each culture’s distinctive way of being human,” she said after a pause. “Whenever any indigenous Earth language disappears, it’s a loss comparable to the extinction of the humpbacks a hundred years ago. Except that the loss is a matter of disappearing memes rather than genes.”
“I suppose that’s true. So exactly what’ll you be doing?”
She brightened somewhat. “I’ve been offered a fellowship with an academic project devoted to preserving and teaching Earth’s indigenous languages. The planet has been on its way to becoming a linguistic monoculture since before Cochrane discovered the warp drive. It would be a shame to let any more regional dialects go extinct.”
Archer sat very still, staring off into space as he allowed Hoshi’s words to sink in for an unmeasured interval.
“Hoshi, Starfleet is going to need your linguistic expertise now more than ever,” he said at length. “And that’s because of the war, not in spite of it.”
Her eyes widened. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“Your linguistic talents have helped us get inside the heads of aliens more times than I can count,” he said. “We’re going to need to bring that kind of talent to bear against the Romulans if we’re going to have any hope of anticipating their next moves.”
“I don’t feel I’ve been very much help to you lately, Captain,” she said, the corners of her mouth turned downward. “I couldn’t help you save the Kobayashi Maru.”
It always comes back to that, doesn’t it? he thought. Aloud, he said, “Some problems just don’t have a solution that’s going to make everybody happy. Or even let everybody survive.”
“I suppose not.” Her voice was barely audible.
“But having our most talented people out here on the front gives us our best chance,” he said, leaning forward across his desk. “Hoshi, you put your finger on it yourself when you used the word extinction. If the Romulans win this war, then the human race will have much bigger worries than protecting Earth’s linguistic diversity. There’s a hell of a lot more at stake here than saving our memes, Ensign. So here’s the bottom-line reality: I need you. Earth needs you. But it needs you here, not doing language botany in some rain forest while the Romulans do to Earth what they’ve already done to Coridan.”
Hoshi sat stock-still, blinking rapidly as she considered his plea. He hoped for everyone’s sake that she was conjuring images of Coridan’s still-burning oceans.
“All right, Captain,” she said finally. Favoring him with a weak smile, she said, “You’ve convinced me. At least for now, while the Romulans are a threat. Is it too late to withdraw my transfer request?”
He answered her with a grin and leaned back in his chair. Making an expansive gesture at the skewed piles of paperwork and padds on his desk, he said, “I’m afraid I’ve been too swamped lately to file it properly.”
“Thank you, sir,” she said.
He nodded, still grinning. “Dismissed, Ensign. And please tell Ensign Mayweather I’d like to have a word with him.”
“Yes, sir,” she said with a nod before she disappeared through the hatch.
The feeling