Chapter Four

Solutions bought in pain

A half hour later Captain Jonathan Archer stepped somberly onto his bridge, stopping for a moment as the turbo door closed behind him. Every eye on the bridge turned to him.

T'Pol, Travis and Malcolm were still at their posts, Hoshi's board manned by the Beta Shift relief crewman. Standing before Malcolm's board was one of his Security Guards, whom Archer recognized as Andrea Carstairs' roommate. The woman stared at him, her tension clear even across the short distance.

He crossed that distance, focusing on Malcolm Reed, his body language and his expression kept in careful check. "Malcolm, I want those images stopped right now. Kill everything short of Life Support if you have to, but stop them!"

"Aye, sir." He had already planned for this extreme contingency when his, and T'Pol's, more conservative efforts kept meeting with failures as the virus continued to exhume modified copies of itself from widely disparate systems. His hands flashed across his board, and seconds later Archer imagined he could actually hear the ship, with the exception of the Bridge, shutting down. "I've cut power to all but lighting and essential systems. All secondary, tertiary and lower systems are dead."

"Keep them that way."

"Aye, sir."

Archer looked at the woman at his right, who had kept silent during this exchange, until her Captain was ready to acknowledge her.

"Captain, how's Andi?" The woman asked, not bothering to disguise her distress.

Archer shook his head, unable to keep the grimness from his tone. "Phlox says she'll live, but she's critical."

The woman tried to hide her feelings as well as she could, but her eyes betrayed the depth of her pain. "Captain, may I please speak to you in private?" She asked very quietly. He nodded somberly; then extended his hand toward the door to his Ready Room, indicating she should precede him.

x

When they entered, he proceeded to his desk, and the woman came to stiff attention before him. "At ease, Crewwoman. Tigat, isn't it?"

"Aye, sir. Mary Tigat; Security, presently assigned to Beta Shift." He noticed she did not obey his 'order' to relax. He saw she was keeping herself stiff as a way of holding her own control. "Sir, permission to speak freely?"

"Granted."

She swallowed hard, her voice just short of breaking. "Sir, how is Andi?"

He realized she thought he had giving her a sugar-coated version for the benefit of the crew on the bridge. "I've held nothing back. She's in critical condition, but Phlox says she'll make it. The knife pierced her lung. She'll need a long recuperation, but she's expected to live."

"Thank God!" She breathed feelingly, much of the tension flowing out of her body. But more seemed to swell up from a wellspring within her.

"The best thing you can do for her at this point is to find the one who drove her to do this to herself."

"Yes, sir." He expected her to say more, but she did not.

"Dismissed." He said finally. She made no move to follow this order either.

"Sir, may I ask a question?" He nodded. She very carefully sought how to phrase her next words, so much so that her care could not be more obvious. "Sir, Lt. Reed has informed me that this problem is being caused by a mutating virus which has latched onto some files and is forcing them to be displayed throughout the ship."

"That's right. For a time, it was hard to keep ahead of the mutations, so now we've cut them off. The files can now be located and deleted; but plenty of damage has been done to morale. I think it will be a long time before we, as a group, recover."

"Sir, I understand we, that is; Security, is on the verge of tracking down the source of the images."

"We will. Inevitably. We'll find the source." He promised her.

"If I may be so bold, Captain; I imagine that, once found, it will be very dangerous for the one who took these pictures."

x

Something in the woman's phrasing, in her tone, alerted Archer to her thoughts. He nodded carefully. "I think there are going to be a great many angry people out there. So yes, when the culprit is identified, I should think it will be very dangerous for him aboard this ship." He stood up, looking down into Tigat's eyes, those green orbs filled with apprehension. "But if he were to turn himself in, we can control the situation. He'd be confined until he can get a fair hearing, which I suspect would be in Starfleet Headquarters; as I doubt I will be able to find very many people aboard this ship that he has not offended."

"Yes, sir." Her voice, as she looked up into his eyes, was hushed.

"Crewwoman, do you have any idea who is responsible for what we're going through?"

"I –." She tried to answer, but her voice broke. She swallowed and tried again. "Not – not exactly, sir."

Archer found himself growing frustrated as the strain of the day took its toll. "If you even have a suspicion of who took those pictures, have him turn himself in, or bring him yourself before this gets completely out of hand."

"Sir, I –."

Unable to hold himself in check any longer, thinking of the woman lying in Sick Bay with a knife wound in her chest, and painfully aware that she was not the last potential casualty, Archer's frustration overcame his patience. He took a step closer until they were virtually touching, and he looked down at the apprehensive woman, looming over her.

"All right, Crewwoman, I'll make it easy for you! You know who's responsible for those pictures! I want that person standing right here in front of me! That's an order."

"She is, sir."

x

Jonathan Archer stared at the woman, not certain he had heard her properly. In fact, he wanted very badly to believe he had not. He felt his blood drain away; and a chill start at his shoulders and chase down his body. She could not have said that! "What?"

Mary Tigat took a shuddering breath, and her voice was trembling. "She is, sir." She repeated; her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm responsible for them. They're my pictures."

Archer felt he had to sit back down. In fact, he needed to sit down! Turning from her, he made it back to his desk and sat down hard in his chair.

"Yours!" He exclaimed finally, looking up at the woman, disbelief overwhelming everything else.

"Yes, sir."

"Why!"

Mary Tigat looked down, unable to meet the man's eyes. "They were a private collection. I – I accessed the Security systems. Those cameras are in every room on the ship, but are only used in emergencies. Normally they are shut down, but I have the code – we all do." If she could have spoken any more softly, she would have. She felt like she was drowning in guilt.

"It was … was a private thing. I started accessing the system from my quarters – but it was never meant to be shown to anyone.

"But you remember Crewwoman Kathy McMahon, from Computer Control? She transferred out two months ago."

"Of course." He said, just starting to get over the shock.

"She and I were lovers. But we had a falling out, a big one, a while before she left. She swore she would get even with me for … something I did. But she left and I never thought about the threat. I thought it was just … Well, she knows computers. She knows them very well."

Archer rose slowly to his feet, trying with all his might to restrain his outrage. "Are you saying …" He asked with deadly quiet. "… that everything this crew has been subjected to today is because of revenge for a lover's spat?"

Mary nodded miserably, unable to answer.

Not trusting himself to say another word, Archer just as slowly reached for the intercom on his desk, pressing the button with great care. "Malcolm?"

"Aye, sir." The Tactical Officer answered from his station outside the door.

"Come in here." When the Englishman stepped into the room, Archer struggled to keep his voice level and quiet. "Crewwoman Tigat is under arrest – you already know why. Escort her to the brig, and put your best men on guard – provided you can find any that don't want to wring her neck!"

Malcolm Reed stared at his subordinate, so shocked he could not even find a question to ask.