“Only a candidate?” the captain said, more sharply than she’d intended. She took a moment herself to rein in her emotions. “I don’t understand,” she told Morell. “You just talked about how ‘clean’ the injury was. What’s the problem?”
“The only specific issue Doctor Benzon and I can see is that there’s some thermal damage to the median and ulnar nerves,” Morell said. “As a result, there’s a possibility that she won’t be able to exercise motor control over artificial muscle tissue.”
“When will you know?”
“Not for a while,” Morell said. “Not until after the operations.”
“Operations,” Sulu said. “More than one.”
“We need to examine her damaged arm and deal with the thermal damage, debride the burned tissue,” Morell explained. “Assuming a successful procedure, we’ll then have to surgically attach a new biosynthetic limb, which will take some time to craft. At that point, the commander will have to undergo physical and occupational therapy, as well as counseling.”
“Can all of that be done aboard ship?” Sulu asked. Enterprise currently traveled outside of Federation space, in unexplored territory, with no specific return scheduled. If Linojj’s medical needs could not be met aboard ship, Sulu would need to alter Enterprise’s course and, once the crew had recovered Ensign Young, head to the closest Federation facility: Helaspont Station, near the Tzenkethi border.
“Yes,” Morell said. “We have the facilities, technologies, and materials to fabricate a biosynthetic limb for Commander Linojj, and Doctor Benzon did his residency at the Loring Institute on Betazed, which specializes in biosynthetics. We have several qualified counselors aboard, including Nurse Veracruz, who has experience with traumatic amputees.”
Sulu nodded, satisfied that Linojj’s recuperation would not require an added layer of complexity by having to return her to a starbase. She believed that the commander would stand a better chance at a full recovery if she didn’t have to be removed from her chosen environment. Sulu also wanted to be there for her friend during her convalescence. “What are Commander Linojj’s chances for success?”
“You know I don’t like to put a number on such things, Captain,” Morell said. “The truth is that even if everything goes medically right, there are no guarantees.”
“There are no guarantees in life, Doctor,” Sulu said. “How often do these procedures result in a patient receiving a functioning replacement limb?”
“In a case like Commander Linojj’s, the success rate is high,” Morell said. “Upward of sixty-five percent.”
Although the number seemed acceptable—even good—to the doctor, it disappointed Sulu. It meant that out of every three patients in Linojj’s condition, one of them would permanently lose their limb. The captain would have preferred better odds.
Returning her attention to the injured crewman still on the surface of Rejarris II, Sulu asked, “Can you tell how this happened?” Crewman Permenter’s description of events on the planet shed little light on what had befallen Linojj, as she had been out of everybody’s sight at the time.
“We believe that it was caused by some sort of energy discharge,” Morell said, “though it’s not quite like anything we’ve seen before.”
“Could a weapon have been used against her?”
“It’s difficult to say, but she didn’t suffer a blast from a phaser or similar weapon.”
Before Sulu could ask any more questions, the three tones of the boatswain’s whistle sounded in the compartment just outside the surgical suite. “Bridge to Captain Sulu,” said Commander Buonarroti, the ship’s chief engineer. Fourth in the ship’s chain of command, he’d taken over the bridge with Enterprise’s top three officers elsewhere.
“Is there anything else, Doctor?” Sulu asked, and when Morell shook her head, the captain headed back out into main sickbay. She moved to the nearest intercom and activated it. “Sulu here.”
“Captain, you asked to be informed when Amundsen was close to returning,” Buonarroti said. “The shuttlecraft has just cleared the atmosphere.” He spoke with the elongated tempo of humans brought up in the Alpha Centauri system.
“Acknowledged,” Sulu said. “Has there been any contact with Ensign Young?”
“No, sir,” Buonarroti said. “We’re continuing our efforts, but so far, we’ve had no luck.”
“All right,” the captain said. “I’m headed to the hangar deck. Have one of your staff meet me there. I need an engineer with medical training.”
“Aye, Captain,” Buonarroti said.
“Sulu out.” She deactivated the intercom and glanced back toward the surgical suite. She thought to tell Doctor Morell to keep her informed about Linojj’s progress, but she knew that she didn’t need to do so. While Sulu had enjoyed Captain Harriman’s more relaxed command style, she’d gravitated to a more formal atmosphere once she’d taken over Enterprise from him. Among other shipboard procedures, she had established protocols for the crew to keep the senior staff apprised of ongoing developments.
Instead, she exited sickbay and headed for the closest turbolift. She didn’t know what had happened down on the planet—either to the vanished native population, or to her two injured officers—but it no longer mattered to her. She had made the decision that, once they’d recovered Ensign Young, she would order the ship onward, so that the crew could continue their mission of exploration elsewhere. They had already spilled too much blood on Rejarris II.
♦ ♦ ♦
The navigational beacon appeared on the shuttlecraft’s main display, and Tenger quickly piloted the auxiliary craft onto an intercept course. When he’d maneuvered Amundsen into position, he slammed the fleshy side of his fist down on the autopilot control, the sound of his hand hitting the panel loud in the small cabin. For a moment, the security chief’s frustration threatened to boil over into anger, but with an effort, he reduced it to a simmer.
Tenger confirmed the autopilot’s operation, which included interfacing with Enterprise’s automated guidance systems. That would allow the Excelsior-class starship to snare the shuttlecraft and bring it in for a landing in the hangar bay. Amundsen rocked slightly as an Enterprise tractor beam latched onto it.
The security chief turned in his chair and regarded the three members of his staff that he’d assigned to the shuttlecraft with him. The two women and one man avoided his gaze, not out of disrespect or discomfort, he didn’t think, but from the surfeit of decorum and discretion their duties often required of them, whether attending Starfleet admirals or Federation dignitaries. Tenger’s crew had surely seen his momentary outburst, but in ignoring it, they allowed him the illusion of believing they hadn’t, which he appreciated. “We’re on approach to the Enterprise,” he told them before swinging back around to the shuttlecraft’s main console.
Through the forward viewport, the gray orb of Rejarris II hung off to port, a dirty speck against the black backdrop of space. Ahead of the shuttlecraft, Enterprise awaited, the navigational beacon and the low-power tractor beam streaming from it invisible to the unaided eye, but registering on the helm display. Amundsen approached the ship aft, headed toward where the secondary hull curved concavely upward from its bulging forward half. The thick but almost-flat circle of the primary section stretched away at the front of the ship, while the sleek warp nacelles, connected by right-angled pylons to the secondary hull, projected backward in an impressive display of drive power.
With just minutes remaining before Amundsen set down in Enterprise’s hangar bay, Tenger considered the argument he would make to the captain. Although Sulu bore the ultimate responsibility for the entire crew, his position as the ship’s chief of security made their welfare his number-one priority. He hadn’t participated in the second landing party to Rejarris II because the captain had needed him to study the incoming data and assess the threat potential of the large, unexplained structure they’d found on the surface. His absence from the planet didn’t mitigate his accountability for what had
taken place, though. To his way of thinking, the fact that he’d remained on the ship only pointed out his failure: even though staying on Enterprise allowed him to see readings of the entire alien structure, he should have anticipated the danger and insisted on accompanying Commander Linojj to investigate it in person.
Captain Sulu would of course disagree. She would note that Tenger’s presence on the planet would not have guaranteed the safety of either the exec or the communications officer. He would contend it didn’t matter, that the injuries to Linojj and Young, and the separation of the latter from the ship and crew, provided de facto validation that Enterprise’s security chief should’ve beamed down with the second landing party. He would also petition the captain to assign him to the next one.
In actuality, Sulu had ordered Tenger to travel back down to the planet. After Commander Linojj requested emergency medical transport for Ensign Young, and once the attempts to beam him back to the ship failed, the captain ordered the security chief to form a detachment and take a shuttlecraft to the surface of Rejarris II. Amundsen had already entered the atmosphere and traveled halfway to its destination before Sulu recalled Tenger and his team back to Enterprise.
Apparently, even as the shuttlecraft had headed for the planet, Commander Linojj had been badly injured. According to what the captain told Tenger, one of the ship’s transporter operators, Crewman Corvallis, beamed down with a spare signal enhancer for the first officer, who had lost hers. Corvallis and the entire landing party then transported back up to Enterprise, with the exception of Ensign Young, who, after sustaining his injury, remained somehow cut off from the crew.
At the time the captain had ordered Tenger to reverse the shuttlecraft’s course and return to the ship, he had suggested that he and his team should instead continue on down to the planet. He wanted to directly assess Ensign Young’s situation so that he and his security detail could effect an immediate rescue. If that proved impossible, then he would gauge the requirements for a future attempt at recovery.
Captain Sulu had simply said no. She offered no reasons for her decision, but she didn’t need to: Tenger had served under her command long enough to know what she intended to do. He respected her for it, even as it motivated him to report her actions to Starfleet Command. He would never do such a thing, though, both because the decisions Sulu made never fell outside the scope of “captain’s discretion,” and because, in her position, he probably would have elected to do the same thing.
Up ahead of the shuttlecraft, Tenger saw, the segmented hatches of Enterprise’s hangar bay had divided in the center and begun telescoping open. The security chief checked the navigational readouts to validate Amundsen’s approach, and to assure himself that he didn’t need to resume manual control of the shuttlecraft. As he did so, a message flashed across a display, supplemented by a tonal signal, indicating an incoming transmission. He tapped his panel to permit reception.
“Enterprise shuttlebay control to Amundsen,” said a male voice.
“Shuttlebay control, this is Commander Tenger aboard Amundsen,” said the security chief.
“Commander, our guidance systems are prepared to fully take over landing.”
“Understood,” Tenger said. “I’m shutting down Amundsen’s drive.” He worked his controls, cutting the shuttlecraft’s engine power. The cabin quieted, the hum saturating the compartment—almost unnoticeable because of its constancy—fading completely. On the helm display, Tenger saw the intensity of the tractor beam increase, slowing the vessel for its final approach.
“We’ve got you, Amundsen,” said the voice of shuttlebay control. Tenger made it a point to familiarize himself with everybody aboard ship as part of his security protocols, but he didn’t always recognize voices. “Sit back and enjoy the ride.”
“Acknowledged,” Tenger said. “Amundsen out.”
The hatches leading to the hangar bay had opened fully, revealing the landing pad beyond them. Two columns of green chaser lights raced in parallel lines from the aft end of the deck inward, leading to a circular turntable conspicuously inscribed with a large red X. Past that sat an array of auxiliary craft, including several planetary shuttles like Amundsen, as well as a pair each of cargo management units and warp shuttles. Above those vessels, a row of ports stretched across the top of the far bulkhead, and through them, Tenger saw several Enterprise crew members moving about the shuttlebay control room.
Amundsen glided through the open hatches, trembling briefly as it passed through the force field that secured the hangar and maintained its atmosphere. Tenger glanced through the forward port at the observation galleries that overlooked the landing party on either side of the bay. Both appeared empty.
The shuttlecraft touched down in the center of the hangar, directly atop the turntable and its red X. Tenger monitored the external hatches until they had fully closed, and then he verified the atmosphere outside Amundsen. When the control room opened a channel and announced that the crew could safely disembark, Tenger powered down the shuttlecraft’s systems. He then stood up and moved to the port side of the cabin, where he worked a control, still operational via secondary battery power. The hatch whirred open.
“Secure your gear and clear the shuttlecraft,” Tenger told his security team. He waited as the three of them gathered up their weapons, tricorders, and cold-weather tackle. He collected his own equipment, then led them through the hatch and into Enterprise’s hangar bay.
The quartet marched along a gangway marked on the deck until they reached a wide access portal. Its rounded, rectangular port exposed the door’s thickness. It led into an airlock, but with the bay fully pressurized, Tenger and his crew would not require its use. As he reached for the door’s control, it opened before him.
On the other side of the airlock, the inner door stood open as well, revealing Captain Sulu and a young officer whose division sleeve identified her as an engineer. Both of them carried cold-weather clothing, and the young woman had both a tricorder and a field kit slung across her shoulder. Tenger didn’t know the ensign—Galatea Kostas—but he recognized her from her personnel and security files. She had dark eyes and wavy black hair that had been shaped into a bun behind her head.
As Sulu and the engineer walked through the airlock and into the hangar bay, Tenger and his security team stepped to the side to give them room to pass. He’d anticipated the captain would want to travel to Rejarris II herself, though he hadn’t expected to meet her on her way to a shuttlecraft. He wondered if she’d wanted to make sure of his security team’s safe return before embarking herself, or if, had Amundsen not arrived at that moment, she would have taken a different vessel down to the planet’s surface.
Sulu stopped to face Tenger. “Anything to report, Commander?” she asked.
“No, sir,” the security chief said. He paused for a moment, then dismissed his crew back to their duty stations. Once they had exited the hangar bay and the airlock doors had closed behind them, he said, “I’m glad you’re here, Captain. I wanted to speak with you about our plan to recover Ensign Young.”
“My plan,” Sulu said, substituting the word my for our, “is to take a shuttlecraft to the structure and study the situation. I will contact you and the rest of the senior staff to detail what we find. If possible, I will retrieve Ensign Young, and if not, we will work together to determine a course of action that will allow us to do so.”
It did not surprise Tenger at all that Sulu intended to attempt to rescue the ensign herself. It also did not please him. “Begging the captain’s pardon, but with Commander Linojj confined to sickbay for some time to come, I am now functionally second in command,” he said, striving to keep his voice even so that his words would not sound like a challenge to Sulu’s authority. “I would therefore be remiss in my duty if I did not point out that the Enterprise crew should not be without its top two officers.”
“As you just mentioned, Commander, you are presently my exec,” Sulu said. “That means that, even after I depart,
one of the ship’s top two officers will remain aboard.”
“Not the top two officers it left port with,” Tenger said, his frustration mounting. “Captain, I can lead a rescue mission down to the planet. As the Enterprise’s chief of security, I would argue that it’s my duty to do so.”
To Tenger’s surprise, Sulu did not reply immediately, and instead seemed to consider his argument. After a few seconds, she looked to the young engineer she had brought with her to the hangar bay. “Ensign, board the shuttlecraft and stow our gear,” she said, handing over her jacket. “I’ll be right there.”
“Yes, sir,” Kostas said, and she made her way across the deck to Amundsen.
Tenger felt deflated. He realized that he’d already lost the battle. Sulu had dismissed Ensign Kostas simply to spare the security chief any embarrassment.
“Commander,” the captain said, but then she stopped. She took a step closer to him, moving with evident deliberation into his personal space. Standing several centimeters taller than the security chief, Sulu looked down at him with her dark brown eyes. “Tenger,” she said, calling him by name rather than by rank, something she rarely did while on duty. “I understand your concerns, particularly in light of what happened to Xintal. Your job is to preserve the security of this ship, and that necessarily means protecting the life and well-being of its captain. But the crew are my first priority, and after the events on the planet, I’m not prepared to send anybody else down there, into an obviously dangerous situation.”
“But I’m volunteering for that duty, Captain,” Tenger said, almost pleading with her. It occurred to him that perhaps he should have simply violated Sulu’s orders and continued down to the surface of Rejarris II. He thought about calling her by her given name, but he understood that, no matter her sincerity in doing so, she had already mined that rhetorical tactic for whatever value it possessed. “Captain, there is risk in everything we do,” he went on. “We travel through the frigid vacuum of space at many times the speed of light. We visit unexplored places and seek out unknown alien life. When necessary, we take up arms to defend the Federation and its allies. Nothing we do out here is for the timid.”
Star Trek: The Lost Era - 08 - 2319 - One Constant Star Page 8
