Three - Michael Jan Friedman [8]
[19] Nothing on the Stargazer was anchored more securely—not even the warp nacelles. But then, a tractor load could place an enormous amount of stress on a tractor emitter—enough to tear it loose from the ship’s spaceframe if measures weren’t taken to prevent such an occurrence.
Chief Engineer Phigus Simenon was a Gnalish, a gray, scaly creature slightly shorter than she was, with a long snout, startling red eyes, and a tail that swayed back and forth as he walked.
At the moment, of course, he wasn’t walking at all. He was lying on his back under the forward emitter, using a hydrospanner to open its outer casing.
Wu didn’t know if Simenon was fixing a problem or anticipating one, but he was clearly engrossed in his work—so much so that he didn’t even glance her way as she crawled toward him, personal access display device in hand.
“I see you’re busy,” she observed.
“As always,” he muttered in his harsh, sibilant voice.
“Well,” said Wu, “I won’t take up much of your time. I was just wondering if you could shed some light on something for me—specifically, this subspace message from an Administrator Haywood.”
“Haywood?” he echoed. “Don’t know him.”
“He seems to know you,” said Wu. “In fact, he’s sent a note of commendation to Captain Picard.”
Simenon twisted his head around to regard her with his ruby red eyes. “A note—?”
“From the Federation colony on Setlik Three. Apparently,” said Wu, “the engineer there is a friend of yours.”
[20] Understanding dawned on the Gnalish’s lizardlike face. “Chiidasi. Moraal Chiidasi.”
“It seems this Chiidasi fellow served with you on one of your previous assignments—the Onjata, I believe?”
Simenon’s grunt confirmed it.
“He must have thought quite highly of you,” Wu continued, “because when he had some trouble with the colony’s power source, you’re the one he contacted.”
The engineer shrugged his narrow shoulders. “Their matter-antimatter generator was a lot like the warp engine on the Onjata. He knew I was familiar with it, that’s all.”
“That was one reason,” Wu agreed. “The other was that he considered you—” She held up her padd and read from it. “ ‘The best engineering mind in all of Starfleet.’ That’s rather high praise, Mr. Simenon.”
He dismissed the notion with a flip of his scaly hand. “That’s just Chiidasi showing his gratitude.”
The second officer smiled to herself. “No doubt. Anyway, I thought you would want to know.”
“Thanks,” said Simenon. Then, without any further ado, he went back to his work.
Wu shook her head. Her colleague was quite the interesting character. If his manners were anywhere near as highly developed as his engineering instincts, he would have been the most cultured individual in the fleet.
As it was, she gathered, he was just its best engineer.
From space, Wayland Prime looked to Vigo like most M-class planets, a ragged curtain of clouds partially obscuring an incredibly slow and complex dance of land and water.
[21] Even more complex—but a lot less noticeable through the starboard observation port of Vigo’s shuttle—was the unusual network of magnetic storms that laced Wayland Prime’s upper atmosphere.
The storm layer served as a natural security system for the Level One Development Facility, making it impossible to transport from the Stargazer to the planet’s surface. After all, the last thing Starfleet wanted was to make the secrets of its weapons technology easy pickings for enemies and opportunists, and the galaxy seemed to contain a surfeit of both.
Unfortunately, the storm layer also made communication with anyone off-planet an uncertain proposition. Only during the occasional lull in magnetic activity could a voice or data signal punch through to the outside universe.
“It might get a little bumpy here,” said Idun Asmund, the Stargazer’s primary helm officer, as she made