STAR TREK: Strange New Worlds I

by Dean Wesley Smith (Editor)

  The fear in his voice was evident, and well justified. A complete power failure of all bridge systems was not only disconcerting, it was supposedly impossible. She gripped her command chair arms, the only things solid and real in the blackness.

  Then her stomach flip-flopped, and her head spun. The gasps in the darkness around her indicated that she wasn’t the only one experiencing the symptoms.

  [270] “What now?” muttered a voice. It was Tom Paris, immediately forward at the ship’s helm.

  “It would appear, Captain, that the problem extends to the artificial gravity generators,” observed Tuvok dryly.

  “Everyone stay calm,” Janeway snapped. “We’ve obviously had some kind of systems failure.”

  “I’ll say,” said the voice of Paris.

  “We need to get some light in here. Tuvok, can you reach the emergency supplies panel?”

  “I shall endeavor to do so. I would suggest that everyone remain motionless to avoid injury.”

  Janeway heard a rustle of movement. She tried to track it with her ears. Yes, Tuvok should be near the starboard supplies panel. She heard a click.

  “I have opened the panel.”

  The harsh glare of the hand-light, held by the Vulcan security chief Tuvok, illuminated the anxious faces of her bridge crew, all eyes turned toward her. She was flooded with relief.

  First things first. “Everyone all right?”

  There were various nods. “Any indication what happened? Mr. Paris?”

  The blond pilot shook his head. “No, Captain. We were proceeding on course at speed when the board just went dead. No indication of any problems, no unusual readings from the navigational sensors.”

  She turned in her chair. “Mr. Kim?”

  “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

  She looked around the bridge. It appeared much larger in the shadowy beam of Tuvok’s hand-light. Several small hand tools and a padd were floating between her and the [271] blank, gray main viewer. There was no indication of a live panel anywhere, no sound, no lighted indicators, nothing.

  She tapped her communicator. “Janeway to engineering,” she said, not really expecting a response. Why should the communicators work when the entire bridge, with its multiple-redundant backup systems, was inoperative?

  She started when a voice answered. “Ensign Vorik here, Captain. May I ask what is happening?”

  Janeway sighed. “I was hoping you could tell me. We seem to be experiencing a comprehensive systems failure.”

  “The situation here is the same,” reported the Vulcan engineering officer. “The lights went out and the warp core went into auto-shutdown. All of my systems appear to be nonfunctional, except for the emergency manual monitor for the engine core systems.”

  “Was the warp core auto-shutdown complete?”

  “Yes, Captain. At least it appears so. I’m still checking readings.”

  “See what you can find out, Mr. Vorik, and get back to me on the double. We’ve obviously got a big problem here.”

  Harry Kim had recovered a tricorder and flipped it open. It warbled comfortingly. Whatever it was that had disabled Voyager’s systems apparently didn’t extend to handheld devices.

  “Report, Mr. Kim.”

  Kim waved the tricorder around, staring intently at the display. “There doesn’t seem to be any damage to the ship. I’m reading the crew lifesigns and, umm, what looks like three remaining power sources. Engineering, something in sickbay, and what looks like number three computer core.”

  “Captain,” Tuvok interrupted. “Those systems—[272] emergency manual monitor in engineering, the emergency medical holographic system in sickbay, and the backup navigational database in computer core three—are the only ship’s systems not directly controlled by the bio-neural network.”

  “So you’re suggesting that the bio-neural circuitry has failed?” asked Janeway.

  “It is a distinct possibility,” admitted Tuvok.

  “How could that be?” responded Kim. “There was no warning ... plus the bio-neural network isn’t a monolithic whole—it’s a bunch of independent subprocessors made up of individual gel packs. Everything has backups, especially bridge command and control systems. Nothing could bring the entire system down all at once.”

  “Nothing you are aware of,” corrected Tuvok.

  “Nothing anybody’s aware of, Mr. Tuvok,” shot back Kim.

  Janeway’s communicator beeped. “Torres to bridge.”

  “Janeway here. Go ahead, Lieutenant.”

  The chief engineer sounded peeved. “What’s happening? One minute I’m asleep, the next I wake up to find myself floating around my cabin.”

  “Tuvok thinks we’ve had a massive failure of the bio-neural net. ...”

  “That’s impossible,” said Torres. Kim displayed a humorless grin, and Tuvok raised an eyebrow.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure, Lieutenant. Get to engineering. We need power up here. First priority is life support. If it is the bio-neural net, we need to repair it, or bypass it.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Torres out.” Janeway frowned at the “ma’am,” but didn’t comment.

  Janeway tapped her communicator yet again. “Janeway [273] to all crew. As you are aware, we have experienced a major systems failure. I’m declaring a Red Alert, emergency status eleven. Report to your alert stations. Internal communications are down, so you’ll have to use your communicators. Use them sparingly, as we’ll need clear channels to coordinate the repair effort.” She took a deep breath, then continued with a reassuring tone. “We should have life support systems back on-line soon. Please assist the engineering teams as necessary. Everyone remain calm, I’ll keep you posted as the situation develops. Senior officers, report to ...” She was about to say report to the bridge, but decided against it. With all systems down, there was nothing for them to do here. “Report to engineering. Janeway out.”

  She nodded toward the exit. “Gentlemen, crank that door open. Tom, you have the conn. Everyone else, with me.”

  Paris’s eyebrows furrowed and he gestured around at the dead control panels. “What good can I do here, Captain?”

  “We need someone here in case systems come back online, and also to secure the bridge,” she said. Paris did not reply, but his expression showed he was not happy with the order.

  Main Engineering

  Janeway, Tuvok, and Kim reached engineering to find B’Elanna Torres deep in conversation with Ensign Vorik, her Vulcan assistant. Chakotay arrived soon after.

  Everyone clustered around the sole light source. The emergency manual monitor station beamed cheerfully, even emitting a good-natured beep and warble every so [274] often, as if to reassure the crew that something was still working.

  Janeway turned to Torres. “What have you got, Lieutenant?”

  “No good news, Captain. It looks like Tuvok was right—none of the systems controlled by the bio-neural network are functioning.”

  “Can we get life support back on-line?”

  “I don’t know. We might be able to bypass parts of the bio-neural network and get at least partial life support in one or two sections, but without the network connections, there’s no way we’ll be able to sustain the entire crew.”

  “How long have we got?”

  Torres ran the back of her hand across her knotted forehead. “Well, the breathable volume of ship’s atmosphere will become poisoned by CO2 within twenty or thirty hours. Also, without temperature regulation, it’s going to get very cold, very fast, especially in those areas of the ship closest to the outer hull.”

  “Recommendations?”

  “We should disperse the crew evenly throughout the ship. The less physical activity, the better. A body at rest consumes less oxygen,” said Chakotay.

  “Our first priority should be atmosphere regeneration,” said Torres. “I’ll try to get one space habitable, something large enough for the crew.”

  “The shuttlebay,” suggested Kim.

  Torres nodded. �
��Good idea. It’s already got a self-contained atmosphere control system, so it shouldn’t be impossible if we can restore power.”

  “If we cannot repair the problem quickly, there are also [275] long-term concerns,” added Chakotay. “Without replicators, our survival rations will only last a couple of weeks. Then there’s the problem of waste disposal and hygiene.”

  “Let’s get through the day,” suggested Janeway, “before we start worrying about that. Concentrate your effort on the environmental systems, then ...”

  A series of shrill beeps from the emergency manual monitor console interrupted the captain. Ensign Vorik silenced the alarm. “Captain,” he said, “it appears that we have an even more urgent problem.” He pointed at a flashing display.

  “Number one fusion reactor,” he said. “It’s overheating.”

  “What?” Torres examined the display. “You’re right,” she said. “The starboard impulse fusion reactor seems to have lost control systems power before auto-shutdown was complete. It’s overheating. We’re looking at a meltdown within four or five hours, if we can’t stop it.”

  “Great,” muttered Chakotay. “How do we stop it?”

  Torres and Vorik exchanged glances. “Without power, I can’t think of a way. As far as I know, in our current condition, we can’t even eject it.” Vorik raised an eyebrow and nodded in agreement.

  “Wonderful,” observed Chakotay grimly. “Will it explode?”

  “Unlikely,” said Vorik, “but not impossible.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” said Torres. “Even if it doesn’t blow us up, a meltdown will breach the tritanium confinement bottle. The gamma radiation alone will be enough to kill us all.”

  “Great,” said Kim sardonically. “What else can go wrong?”

  “All these things are results of the system failure,” said [276] Chakotay, “but what about the cause? What caused the bio-neural net to crash in the first place?”

  They all looked at each other.

  It was Tuvok who finally spoke. “I see four possibilities. First, it could be a sickness—we already know the gel packs are susceptible to biological infections. Second, it is possible that some external force is responsible, some sort of spatial anomaly or energy field undetectable to our sensors. Third, it could be just an extremely unlikely combination of random factors.” He looked around at everyone. “Coincidence, or simply bad luck.”

  “I didn’t think Vulcans believed in coincidence or luck,” observed Chakotay.

  Janeway waved Tuvok’s response down. “And the fourth possibility?”

  “A deliberate action by one or more members of the crew.”

  “Sabotage? That’s impossible,” said Janeway.

  “About as impossible as a failure of the entire bio-neural network,” said Chakotay.

  “Yes, but to what end? What possible benefit could come from crashing the bio-neural net?” Janeway looked around at the assembled faces. No one answered.

  It took several minutes for the remaining senior officers to assemble in engineering. When everyone was accounted for, Janeway took a deep breath and tapped her combadge.

  “Captain to all hands. Stand down from Red Alert. Maintain alert condition eleven. All personnel not directly involved in the repair effort, report to your quarters and wait for further instruction. Keep your physical activity to a minimum. Janeway out.”

  “So, it looks like we’re going to fry, suffocate, freeze, and [277] then starve—let’s concentrate on them in that order,” said Chakotay. He anchored himself in the center of a circle of personnel. “Lieutenant Torres, you lead team one. Find a way to either shut down or eject the fusion reactor. This is our top priority; you are authorized to procure any resource or personnel you need to accomplish this task. Ensign Vorik, you will assist Lieutenant Torres. I think you both understand the importance of your assignment.” Torres smiled grimly; the young Vulcan nodded once.

  “Team two will report to Captain Janeway. You are responsible for getting life support back on-line—first in the hangar bay, next for the entire ship.

  “I will lead team three. We will attempt to ascertain what happened to the bio-neural net and find a way to get it back on-line.

  “Tuvok, I want you to remain in engineering and coordinate the repair teams.

  “Everybody understand their assignments?” The assembled teams indicated that they understood. “Okay. Good luck to us all. Let’s get to it!”

  Fusion Reactor Bay 1

  Chief Thompson put her palm to the bulkhead. “Damn,” she said. “It’s already hot to the touch. That’s not good, not good at all. Help me with this access panel.”

  Ensign Vorik stepped up to assist Thompson, the engineering chief responsible for the maintenance of Voyager’s fusion reactors. Together they removed the panel from the bulkhead. A green glow emanated from the opening. Lieutenant Torres peered over their shoulders.

  [278] “The containment field is already starting to decay,” noted Vorik.

  “Mmm,” agreed Thompson. She poked an instrument into the opening. “It’s worse than I thought.”

  Torres tapped her combadge. “Torres to Tuvok.”

  “Tuvok here.”

  “The control circuitry in the reactor is fused beyond repair. There is no way we’re going to be able to save the reactor.” Torres wiped a bead of sweat from her nose. “And it gets worse: the containment field is failing much faster than anticipated.”

  “How much faster?”

  Thompson handed the tricorder to Torres. “According to tricorder readings,” said Torres, “it looks like we have about two hours before meltdown. However, we can expect a radiation release once the containment field degrades below twenty-five percent. That only gives us about ninety minutes to figure out how to eject the reactor.”

  “Unfortunate,” said Tuvok. “Any ideas?”

  Thompson and Vorik exchanged looks. “None come to mind,” replied Torres.

  Thompson shrugged. “I suppose we could cut the reactor out of its mounting, manually blow the ejection hatch, and shove the damn thing out with our bare hands.”

  There was a long silence. Finally, Torres responded. “We can probably separate the mounting braces; they’re designed to detach. But the fused control circuits will keep us from blowing the ejection hatch.”

  “What about a plasma torch?” suggested Thompson. “We can cut the hatch open.”

  Torres shook her head. “Too slow. We’d never be able to [279] cut through the hull with handheld tools in the time we have. It’d take a ship-mounted phaser to be able to do that. ...”

  It occurred to both Thompson and Vorik simultaneously. “The shuttlecraft,” muttered Thompson.

  Torres pondered the idea. “It might work,” she said thoughtfully. “Tuvok, do we know if the shuttlecraft onboard systems were affected by whatever caused the bio-neural failure?”

  “No,” he responded, “but since they do not use bio-neural technology, shuttlecraft systems should be functional.”

  “How will you get the shuttle out of the hangar?” asked Vorik. “Without power, there’s no way to open the hangar’s space doors.”

  “We blast our way out,” suggested Torres. “With the shuttlecraft phasers.”

  “That’s a little tough on the space doors,” commented Thompson. “That’ll make it impossible to use the hangar as a life support station.”

  “True,” said Tuvok. “But it’s better than imminent radiation poisoning. Begin freeing the reactor from its mountings. I’ll contact the captain and arrange for the use of a shuttlecraft.”

  “Aye aye,” said Torres. She looked at Vorik. “Let’s get on with it,” she said. “It’s gonna get awfully hot in here, real soon.”

  Shuttlecraft Hangar Deck

  Janeway motioned for her crew’s attention. “There is a change of plans,” she said. “We’re moving to cargo bay one. [280] Take whatever equipment you need and get down there on the double.” She turned to Harry Kim. “Mr. Kim, you’
re with me.”

  While the repair crew hastened to comply with the captain’s orders, Janeway pulled Kim aside. “The reactor is failing faster than expected and cannot be shut down,” she said quietly. “The reactor ejection systems are off-line, so we’re going to use a shuttlecraft’s phasers to remove the reactor ejection hatch and tow the reactor to a safe distance from the ship.”

  “How are we supposed to get a shuttle out of the shuttle-bay?” asked Kim, indicating the massive hangar doors. “There’s no way to open the space doors.”

  Janeway smiled bitterly. “There is always a way, Harry. You’ll just have to blast your way out.”

  It took a moment before he understood what the captain had said. “Me? You want me to pilot the shuttle?”

  Janeway nodded.

  Kim looked stunned, and his voice rose an octave. “Captain, uh, wouldn’t Tom, ah, Lieutenant Paris, be a better choice?”

  Janeway’s eyebrows rose. “Are you questioning my orders, Ensign?”

  “Uh, no, Captain, it’s just that I ...”

  “Harry, I want you on that shuttle. There’s no time to get Tom down here; and you’re fully qualified as a shuttle pilot. You’re the best man for the job.” She placed her hand on Kim’s shoulder and smiled. “Don’t worry, it’ll be easier than any of the simulations at the academy. Plus ...”—her smile became somewhat coy—“if you make a mistake and hit the fusion reactor, we’ll never know it.”

  [281] Kim swallowed hard. “I’ll be careful, Captain.” Janeway nodded. “Coordinate your activity with Ensign Vorik’s team. Give us a few minutes to clear the hangar, then move fast.”

  Sickbay

  Chakotay placed the bio-neural gel pack against the padded diagnostic bed and removed his hands slowly to keep it from floating away in the zero-G. The Doctor and his Ocampan assistant, Kes, stepped forward and examined the lopsided object with much interest. The Doctor produced a scanner and waved it around the pack. Being a computer-generated holographic projection, the Doctor was not affected by the loss of gravity. He walked normally around the diagnostic bed.