Pliable Truths, page 23
Before Odo could respond, alert klaxons began wailing both inside the store and out on the Promenade. Racing out of the shop, Odo saw the alarms were activated all through the concourse. He looked to the various viewscreens positioned on stanchions or mounted to bulkheads, but none of them were active. He tapped his communicator pendant.
“Odo to Operations. What’s going on?”
The voice of Major Heslo burst from the channel. “Odo, we’ve got a serious problem. The station is moving.”
* * *
It had been a long time since Miles O’Brien had seen so many status indicators flashing alert conditions at the same time. When that sort of thing happened, it was his experience that people were shooting at him, or his ship.
This was something altogether different.
Standing at one of the consoles in the auxiliary control center in the lower portion of Terok Nor’s central core, Commander La Forge was doing his best to make sense of the Cardassian schematics flashing on the array of display screens and status monitors. Next to the console, a portable version of the master situation table in the Enterprise’s main engineering section had been programmed to handle a litany of translation duties so the Starfleet personnel could interact with the station’s systems. O’Brien could see the unit was overtaxed.
“La Forge to all Enterprise and Oceanside personnel. Be advised the station is shifting out of its orbit. We’re moving, and we’re not in control.”
“What can we do?” asked O’Brien.
Without looking away from the monitors in front of him, La Forge replied, “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”
“Picard to La Forge.” The voice of the Enterprise’s captain filled the room. “Geordi, what’s happening?”
“Another glitch, Captain. Only, this one’s the winner. The station’s entire axial vector stabilization system is online, but we’ve been locked out of it.”
“What does that system do?” asked Picard.
La Forge replied, “It’s the Cardassian version of a reaction control system, part of what helps the station maintain its orbit and attitude. That’s done with a series of maneuvering thrusters positioned all around the station, just like we have on the Enterprise. Normally, you’d pulse only the ones needed to make a minor attitude correction, and the station’s main computer tends to handle those types of adjustments automatically.”
“Things are not normal.”
“No, sir. Maneuvering thrusters are firing at random intervals, with no discernible pattern.”
The captain’s reply was squelched by a burst of static that seemed to overload the open comm channel, then O’Brien heard nothing.
“Captain?” prompted La Forge, but there was no response. “Well, that figures.”
Standing at an adjacent console, the Oceanside’s chief engineer, Sarah MacDougal, said, “A new security encryption scheme’s been enabled throughout the system. It’s Cardassian, but I have no idea what triggered it.”
“It could’ve been anything,” said La Forge. “My bet’s sabotage.”
O’Brien said, “Exactly.” He had spent several minutes looking through the engineering files from the main computer, hoping to see something jump out from the garbled mess of Cardassian technical schematics. “There are too many redundant safety features for something like this to happen by accident. Whatever this is, it was deliberate.”
The doors behind him slid aside, and O’Brien glanced from his console to see Commander Data, accompanied by Ensign Gomez, entering from the access corridor. Data was carrying a tricorder, but unlike everyone else, the android showed no sign of emotional reaction to the current situation.
“Tell me some good news, Data,” said La Forge.
“I am afraid I cannot do that, Geordi,” replied the android. “I have just completed a diagnostic of the station’s attitude and orbital stabilization systems. If the thrusters continue to fire in their current manner, the station will eventually decelerate to a point its orbit begins to decay, at which time it will descend into Bajor’s atmosphere.”
O’Brien added, “Unless we can regain access to the system or find some other way to stop what’s basically becoming a deorbit burn.”
“That is correct, Chief O’Brien.” Data turned back to La Forge. “My calculations indicate we have twenty-four minutes and eleven seconds until we will no longer be able to arrest our descent.”
Gomez said, “All the people down there. What do we tell them?”
Feeling a wave of dread washing over him, O’Brien blew out his breath. “Tell them to duck.”
28
“Oceanside is separated from the docking pylon. We are maintaining position relative to the station’s movements. The thrusters’ effects are currently limited to attitude and position relative to its geosynchronous orbit above Bajor. It’s decelerating and the rate of orbital decay is increasing. We can commence station evacuation, but not everyone can be taken off in the time remaining, Jean-Luc.”
In Terok Nor’s wardroom, Picard nodded to the image of Captain Hayashi displayed on the wardroom’s viewscreen. She sat on the bridge of her ship, which resembled that of the Enterprise but lacking a few of the aesthetic choices of a Galaxy-class vessel. What mattered to him at the moment was the Oceanside’s presence and ability to help with the current problem, which was threatening to spiral out of control.
“Tamiko,” he said. “I understand there are legitimate security concerns. But we must begin.”
Hayashi nodded. “Absolutely, there’s no time to be dainty about it. Notify Major Heslo we’ll collect the Bajorans. We can lock on to all Bajoran life signs and have them beamed into our shuttlebay and cargo bays. I can secure those areas, and we’ll go from there. We can transport the Cardassian delegation to a different secure area.”
Their dual yet separate missions had kept them from meeting, but she had acquired a reputation as a confident officer highly capable of handling difficult assignments. The types of missions California-class starships carried out required a deft touch and the ability to adapt on the fly to rapidly evolving situations. Their captains needed to be polished diplomats as well as experts in adaptability, improvisation, and tactics. Those who commanded ships tasked with second-contact missions were, in Picard’s admittedly limited experience, a special breed, and often rubbed the top brass the wrong way.
As if sensing his concerns, Hayashi added, “Captain, I know there are regs for situations like this when two captains are on scene, who has the tactically superior ship or who even has a ship… I don’t care about that. You’re the senior officer, but you’re also the one stuck over there. I’ll follow your lead, sir.”
“I appreciate that, Captain. You’re doing just fine. Carry on.”
Pausing to look down, Hayashi made a gesture before returning her attention to him. “My first officer’s getting things going. Is there anything else we can do?”
“A projection for the station’s most likely point of impact would be useful.” Even as he spoke the words, Picard knew having that information would be of little or no help. The bulk of the station would likely survive atmospheric re-entry due to its sheer size, and the probability was it would break apart during its descent, creating a hell storm of debris that would pummel whatever area of the planet was unfortunate enough to receive it.
“I’ve got my science officer on it. Wherever that thing lands, it’s going to be a problem.”
“Agreed.” There was too little time to contemplate things that were out of his control. “I’ll notify Major Heslo so he can prepare the station’s population. Once they’re safe—”
“I know what you’re going to say. Starfleet personnel will be the last ones off. But, Captain, if the situation gets to a point where we know we can’t save the station, I’m yanking everyone back to the Oceanside.”
“Understood. Major Heslo can assist you with keeping the situation under control.”
“Outstanding.” She stopped, holding his gaze for a moment before saying, “What else can we do, sir?”
“Carry on. Your engineers are working with mine to solve the immediate problem. I have high hopes for our success.”
“I’ve learned not to underestimate any Enterprise engineer, past or present. If anyone can figure this out, it’s them.”
* * *
“I have no idea what the hell is going on.”
Miles O’Brien stared at the portable master situation table. The mishmash of tortured kiloquads of information pulled from Terok Nor’s main computer made no sense. All of the station’s design specifications were now available for review, and O’Brien watched as Commander Data scrolled through pages of diagrams and their associated information at a rate faster than any living being could match.
“The fault appears to lie in several subroutines overseeing the axial vector stabilization system’s emergency response protocols,” said Data. “Background programs that normally review and update information supplied by attitude and position sensors for each of the reaction control system thrusters appear to be acting in conflict with one another, rather than synchronizing their efforts to maintain the station’s relative position.”
O’Brien said, “Sir, are you saying the thrusters are fighting each other?”
“In a manner of speaking. If all the thrusters were firing simultaneously, we would be able to use that to our advantage and maintain the station in a fixed attitude.”
“But that’s not how the RCS works,” pointed out La Forge, moving to the portable master situation table while Sarah MacDougal continued working to find a means to override the interlocked series of engines and initiate a manual shutdown. “They’re designed to fire in dynamic sequences in order to automatically recalibrate the station’s position above the planet.”
Data said, “Precisely. The system is designed to ensure that none of the thrusters ‘fight’ with one another, either by canceling out their efforts or causing a diversion from the desired position.”
“There are six redundant safeguards to protect against that,” shouted MacDougal. “None of them are working.”
“They are not working because those subroutines have been intentionally bypassed.” Data swiped at the display on the portable MST so it now displayed a schematic depicting a cross section of Terok Nor. “I have detected program anomalies in seven different locations around the station. They are similar in nature to the compromised optical data network relay investigated by Commander La Forge and Ensign Gomez. I believe the same type of invasive program was used on those relays via isolinear data rods. This allowed the updates to bypass the main computer’s central processor.”
“Isn’t that supposed to be impossible?” asked O’Brien. “For that very reason?” Trying to do something like that aboard the Enterprise or any Starfleet ship would trigger a shipwide alert that would isolate the compromised access point and dispatch security to the targeted location.
“The chief’s right,” said La Forge. “But this system doesn’t take into account someone with the necessary skills to bypass them at the point of intrusion.” He looked around the table. “Unless any of you have been serving on a Cardassian ship or space station prior to the last couple of days, you’re disqualified—except for you, Data.”
Without acknowledging the comment, the android said, “Even if we could purge the main computer system of all active instances of the malicious software, there is insufficient time to go to each of those locations and remove the data rods to prevent new versions of the code from being delivered.”
“What if we turned everything off?” asked La Forge. “Trigger the station’s emergency shutdown procedures. That would kill the engines, the computer core, the reactor, everything.”
Data replied, “The deorbiting burn has already progressed to the point that simple inertia will push the station toward the planet surface. A complete shutdown and restart would require more time than we have available before the descent is past the fail-safe point.”
“You’re saying if this had happened an hour ago we could do it?” asked O’Brien. “What can we do to buy more time? Can we alter the thruster firing sequences manually? Maybe working together, we could override what it’s doing and at least hold steady until we cleared the compromised systems.”
“Even if we were able to gain control of the thrusters,” said Data, “they possess insufficient thrust to overcome the gravitational forces now being exerted on the station. Its own mass is now working against us.”
“Gravitational forces.”
So soft-spoken was MacDougal’s comment that O’Brien thought he imagined it. When he turned to look and saw the Oceanside’s engineer staring at the MST, her lips were moving, but there were no sounds.
“Commander MacDougal?” prompted Data.
Stepping up to the table, she said, “Gravitational constant. Adjust the gravitational constant.” She snapped her fingers. “Three years ago. Bre’el IV. The orbit of its moon was decaying, and the Enterprise used a low-level warp field to change its gravitational constant. You moved it back where it belonged.”
“You know about that?” asked La Forge.
“I read about it,” MacDougal replied. “Your report was quite comprehensive.”
La Forge said, “Did you get to the part where it didn’t work because our warp field wasn’t big en—” He stopped himself, then smiled. “Of course.”
“This station is a damned sight smaller than that moon,” said O’Brien. “Will it work?”
Frowning, La Forge replied, “Maybe. Sarah, what about the Oceanside? Would her engines be able to handle something like this?”
MacDougal nodded. “She may be smaller than the Enterprise, but she’s pure muscle in the engine department. Remember, they sometimes use Cali-class ships when they need to tow larger vessels at high warp.”
“The commander is correct,” said Data. “The warp engines on California-class starships are larger and more powerful than those of the Galaxy-class. The ratio of engine output compared to total mass favors the Oceanside in this scenario.”
“But remember what happened at Bre’el IV,” said La Forge. “We almost tore the moon apart because our warp field wasn’t big enough to wrap around the whole thing. Even with the Oceanside’s engines, if that happens here we’re still talking about two different inertial densities. We could rip the station apart. That’s game over.”
Data nodded. “Then we should not do that.”
Under any other circumstances, the deadpan comment would have made O’Brien laugh. Instead, studying the MST, he knew the talent and experience they represented. This was the team he wanted for this problem.
“Commander Data and I can coordinate with the Oceanside,” said MacDougal. “He’ll be a huge help with the calculations.”
O’Brien said, “I can help Commander La Forge with the shutdown and restart procedures.” His review of the process told him it would take the two of them to carry out the process in the shortest-possible time.
The next minutes were a blur as the engineers and Data got to work. With the officers occupied by all the moving parts, O’Brien directed Ensign Gomez and six other junior officers to the ODN relay hubs where the illicit data rods most likely had been deployed. He tried not to think about the possibility of other relays compromised in similar fashion, lying dormant and waiting to be triggered by the action he and his colleagues were attempting.
One crisis at a time, Miles.
“Oceanside to MacDougal,” said Captain Hayashi over the communications channel La Forge had enabled in the auxiliary control center. “We’re ready when you are, Sarah.”
O’Brien and La Forge, standing at the console overseeing the station’s primary power systems, took one last look at their respective checklists.
“Ready?” asked La Forge.
“Aye, sir.” O’Brien’s job would be to initiate the shutdown sequence for the station’s fusion reactor. If everything went according to the specifications, the RCS thrusters would be the first systems to go offline once power flow was interrupted. In theory, this would give the Oceanside a chance to extend its warp field to encompass the station and begin the process of altering its gravitational constant, allowing the ship to use its own engines to pull the station back toward its proper orbit. At the same time, Gomez and her team would be removing the invasive software rods from the ODN relays while La Forge initiated a restart of the main reactor. This process would reset the main computer and return control of the station and its systems to the engineers—if all went to plan.
What could possibly go wrong, thought O’Brien. Besides everything, that is.
“All right,” said MacDougal, taking one last look around the room. “We’re out of time. Chief?”
O’Brien replied, “Aye, Commander.” He began entering the necessary command string. “Here we go. Initiating reactor shutdown sequence.”
The effect was immediate. An audible warbling coursed through the room, reverberating through the bulkheads and deck plating, and even the console beneath O’Brien’s hands. The workstation blinked as it—along with other critical systems interfaces—made the automatic jump to auxiliary power sources. The room’s overhead lighting flickered and extinguished, only to come back seconds later.
“Reactor shutdown in progress,” he reported. “RCS systems are… offline!”
While the thrusters powering down resulted in no noticeable effect, O’Brien imagined he could feel the force ebbing, leaving the station to spin and float free in the vacuum above Bajor.
“Conditions are optimal,” reported Data. “Oceanside, we are ready.”
“Acknowledged,” said Captain Hayashi. “Extending warp field.”
