Chapter 9 - Connections
"Captain Riker, if we understand you correctly, the Enterprise was reduced to impulse, that is, for all intents and purposes immobilized 5,500 light years from home, as a result of the hostile actions of these … creatures, these 'Lumen' as you call them. They kidnapped Starfleet children. And yet your First Officer saw it as perfectly acceptable to sit down and have a chat with them, and you did nothing to stop him, you just let him proceed?"
"With all due respect, your Honour, based on what Commanders Paris and Troi learned in their encounter with them we could not consider the inadvertent effect the Lumen had on the warp core as a hostile act. Even the kidnapping, while horribly misguided, was understandable from their point of view, alien as that approach may be to us. It was an act of desperation, not malice.
"Learning who the other side is, learning what motivates them, getting to understand them and their perspective on things is the first step towards peace.
"Even if the first encounter looks like an act of war."
+o+o+
"The K'rikians are killing their children, Will."
Tom stood in the Captain's ready room, ready to begin the private debrief Riker had requested; their transmissions from the asteroid through the open comm link had been fragmented, as anticipated, and the Captain wanted details. No doubt Riker would speak with his wife and counselor later, but for now there were only the two of them.
"And their children are killing the K'rikians. It's as simple as that."
Letting his words sink in, Tom turned to the replicator. "Tea. Earl Grey. Hot." For the umpteenth time, Riker shook his head when his Number One requested the beverage he had apparently learned to like during his time at Picard's advanced command course. One of these days he would have to speak with him about his choice of phrase when ordering it, though.
Riker waited as Tom took a sip of the piping hot drink, watched him briefly close his eyes in appreciation as it warmed his throat, as well the hands that were now clutching the mug. It had been a very long day for all of them.
"First things first, Tom. How did these ... beings get onboard? Why didn't we detect them?"
"Our conversation was a bit limited on these points, but I did get some good tricorder readings before and after we turned off the dampeners. The energy they emit is partly refractive, partly consists of reverse polarization patterns, so it acts like natural shielding. It's capable of harmonizing with our own, so there was no shield resistance. As for detection, our internal sensors would have to be modulated to their specific frequency, but even that changes as frequently as our heartbeat does – when we move, sit still, exercise, or experience strong emotions. In the absence of the appropriate phase modulations they are highly unlikely to set off our intruder alerts. If they did, it would seem like a momentary blip, an error message, and our system would immediately self-correct."
Pausing to give his captain the chance to intervene with questions, but meeting only keenly focused silence, Tom continued.
"They got in through the warp core ejection conduit, and the core itself. Since matter-antimatter reaction is a natural part of their being, they probably thought they were stepping through a nice, warm shower. But in the process, they overloaded and shut down our system. B'Elanna says it's almost like they sucked the energy out of the dilithium matter-antimatter reaction process to such an extent that it compromised the warp field's ability to get re-initialized."
At this, Riker spoke. "Yeah, B'Elanna and her team have already exchanged all the dilithium crystals; at least that's one thing that isn't in short supply around here. We got plenty in the samples we tractored in. So far, nothing, but I don't think we're out of options yet. We'll figure something out." He looked at Tom expectantly.
Tom responded in measured tones. "Before you ask, no, I did not get a useful response as to how we can get it started again. They're not exactly … technically inclined. They act purely by instinct. I suppose if you are something like a warp core you don't need to figure out how to fix up an artificial one."
Riker sighed. "I must say, I don't cherish the idea of limping back to the wormhole on impulse. Harry has been monitoring it through the probe we left behind; it's losing cohesion at a rate of about two percent a day. Our window to go home the fast way will close in eight days. We need that warp drive back online."
They exchanged a long look. There was no need to elaborate further. If they didn't make it back to and through the wormhole before it collapsed, without a functioning warp core their return would take far, far longer than even the projected worst-case scenario.
If they were lucky, the Federation would send another ship to meet them with a new core somewhere along the way, but without the wormhole even that initial rendezvous would take five years, less whatever small distance they might have limped towards their goal in the interim on impulse. And then they still had to fly back – ten years in total, for them as well as for any ship sent to reach them. Voyager had come back from the Delta Quadrant in seven.
And even at that, there was no guarantee that a newly brought in core could undo the damage done inadvertently by the Lumen There was also no guarantee that Starfleet would take the risk of losing a second ship.
"I assume we're heading back towards the wormhole now on impulse, just in case?"
Riker nodded. "We think we can make it. It'll be tight though, and with all the oddities floating around out here…" He didn't have to complete his thought; Tom understood perfectly well.
"No more surprises would be nice."
Tom drained his cup; both men remained silent, lost within their own thoughts for a moment. Then, with a deep breath and an inclination of his head, Riker invited his XO to continue his interrupted tale.
"They took the children by surrounding them with their bodies. The image Deanna got from them showed a process close to the molecular dissolution effect of our transporters, only it enables them to hold the children suspended within their own bodies for a period of time. My guess is that it is related to the way they … give birth, too, since their own children hold solid form for a time. Then they left the way they had come, created the stasis field where we found it, again an extension of their bodies, and waited for us to turn up."
Tom smiled to himself a little, thinking about how he would tell B'Elanna that her daughter had basically travelled through 'her' warp core. Then he chilled to the thought of what had happened to Michael Jonas, the last human he knew to have made such intimate acquaintance with the core. Focusing again, he tried to find the best way to emphasize his next point.
"Deanna will confirm that there is not a malicious bone in the Lumen's body." A brief grin flashed across his face at the ludicrousness of the metaphor he had just used. Stop getting distracted, Paris. Yes you're giddy with relief that Miral is home, now get your shit together and report to your Captain.
"They are a peaceful species, who wish no one any harm. They are deeply sorry that the Enterprise is in the shape they inadvertently left it in, and I don't doubt their sincerity. Not sure they can fix it though."
His wandering mind recreated the subtle changes in colouration of the Lumen as they expressed their sorrow – a brightness dimmed, a pulse slowed, all reflected and opened to his understanding through Deanna's words and involuntary facial expressions. By the end of his communication with the aliens, he had found he could almost read their emotions himself, in the various light pulses they emitted.
"And when they took our children, it was their attempt – however misguided, from our perspective - to get our attention, to let us see the magnitude of their problem. They meant no harm, and in fact took great precautions to ensure that the children never even realized what was happening." Tom stopped, a little ruefully. "Until we came in to disrupt things with our dampeners, of course, and woke everybody up."
Upon his return to the ship he had spoken briefly with Miral, who – to the extent a two-year-old, even an extremely bright one, could do so – had confirmed that she had slept soundly, until the moment the stasis field collapsed in the cave and the away team took control. The older children, according to Jorak, had all corroborated her version of events.
Riker nodded slowly. A picture was forming in his mind, but he wanted to hear his XO's views first.
"Analysis?"
"Leaving aside the immediate engineering issues on the Enterprise, the problem I see here is this. We have two peaceful races, the K'rikians and the Lumen, locked in … the best I can picture it, is a deadly embrace. One is causing lethal harm simply by living, the other kills in self-defense, trying to stay alive, forcing the other to procreate faster. Unless something … someone intervenes, they will end up killing each other, slowly but inevitably."
Riker nodded thoughtfully. "I don't suppose the Lumen would consider moving their … their birthing grounds somewhere else?"
Tom shook his head. The picture Deanna had eventually obtained, after repeated questions on that point, had come in muted, nearly colourless images, dripped bleakly into her mind like a cold, wet day in November. The Lumen had travelled through space for a long time, searching for a place where the needs of their species would be met. They had come across the intense environment of the Trifid nebula just as their survival was becoming a question of chance, not certainty.
Dilithium was rare in Federation space; the Lumen had approached the Trifid from the far side of the galactic centre, the Beta Quadrant, where it was apparently rarer still. In short, the Trifid's young planetary systems and asteroid belts had been their salvation; now their newfound home could – would - become their doom.
"Well," Riker said, "even if we could do anything for either of these people – and frankly I wouldn't know where to start – the Prime Directive would apply. The K'rikians aren't warp capable, and if they hadn't shot at us first we wouldn't even have been allowed to establish contact with them. As for the Lumen, who knows what to make of them in terms of their stage of development. They sure don't need warp drive. Anyway, while both races are the ones who initiated contact with us, we are not involved in their dispute and can't interfere in their relationship with one another."
Tom, after making sure the Captain was not looking at him, rolled his eyes – a gesture he had picked up from his wife - but refrained from commenting.
The almighty Prime Directive. It had been a bone of contention between him and his father, from the time he was old enough to form and voice his own opinions. Even now that they had put most of their differences behind them and Owen Paris had gone so far as to express his respect for Tom's willingness to suffer demotion and brig time for the sake of his principles in the Monean incident, father and son knew better than to start a discussion on what would more likely than not lead to a knock-'em-down, drag-'em-out argument.
Try as he might, Tom Paris could never understand how helping a peaceful, benign species avoid extinction could somehow be a Bad Thing, and what the ability to use warp drive could possibly have to do with the right to survival. But arguing the point was moot in any event; he had no useful solutions to offer for what he had come to think of as the Trifid tragedy. The Prime Directive was safe from Tom Paris' invective and imprecations for another day.
"If it's alright with you, Captain, and if there isn't anything more for now, I'd like to go pick Miral up from Sickbay now."
The Doctor had kept her and the other smaller children under observation for a while to make sure they had suffered no ill effects. B'Elanna had stayed with her for a time, but had to turn her attention back to the warp core problem and had had to leave her in Sickbay. But while the Doc was among Miral's favourite babysitters, it was time for his little girl to come home; there would be no returning to the 'safe zone' for any of the children – at least not tonight. Tonight she would not sleep in any bed but her parents'; Tom planned to hold her close in his arms until morning.
The captain nodded his understanding, and dismissal. "Yes, go to her, Tom, and do get some rest yourself. You sure look like you can use it. I'll see you at staff briefing at 0800."
"Just one more thing, if you don't mind my saying so, Will – Deanna's been absolutely fantastic today, but she's been through the wringer. I'm sure she could use some company. Don't stay here too long yourself."
"Point taken, Tom. Thanks. I'll head out in a minute. I just need to sit and think for a bit."
Tom nodded his farewell and took his teacup to the recycler before quietly letting himself out of the ready room.
Will Riker, for his part, turned his tired eyes to the observation window, where the pink and red clouds of the Trifid seemed to form a shroud for his silenced ship.
+o+o+
When Tom entered Sickbay he found it nearly empty. Only the Doctor was present, moving over an array of petri dishes with a tricorder, and Harry Kim, who was bent over a biobed stroking the soft dark fuzz on his baby son's head. Little Tommy, the youngest of the children and the most likely to suffer any adverse radiation effects, had been held back the longest, but even he was finally ready to go home.
Harry looked up at his best friend and commanding officer, the man who had gone and found his son and, staying behind in a cave of unknowns, risked becoming a hostage himself to ensure his safe return. In all the many times the two men had stood beside each other, or back to back, fighting off a hideous death and keeping each other safe, Harry had never felt the depth of gratitude he did now.
In the absence of more eloquent words, and so as not to wake his baby son, Harry mouthed a silent "thank you". Tom clasped his shoulder in silent acknowledgement and understanding, and headed over to the biobed where his own child was sleeping.
Miral could have left much sooner, but with B'Elanna tied up at engineering, Tom with the Captain and no one ready to return the children to the 'safe zone' tonight, the EMH had volunteered to do what he loved at the best of times – babysit his godchild. Tom smiled his gratitude at him as he went to take in a picture that only a few hours ago he had feared with a sickening heart he might not see again.
It never ceased to amaze Tom how much of a miniature version of B'Elanna his daughter was when asleep: light-bronze skin, soft brow ridges, beautifully arched eyebrows, glossy dark curls. Until she woke up – then she would look at the world through his sparkling blue eyes, smile his own impish grin back at him. Miral's presence in his life had opened windows into his soul he had never known existed, and he wasn't sure if he ever would be ready to examine what he would have done, would have felt, had she not been recovered. The black hell of Auckland would have been as nothing compared to the terror of leaving his child to an unknown fate - this he knew.
Behind him, the Doctor cleared his throat even as the whoosh of the door indicated Harry and Baby Tommy's departure. Tom turned around, still smiling. "Thanks for looking after her, Doc," he said softly so as not to wake Miral.
"You're welcome," the EMH said. "But before you go and remove my godchild from my care, there is something I would like you to discuss with you."
"Oh?" Tom felt a little put out. The last thing he needed right now was another issue to be dealt with, another crisis to be resolved. But he was the First Officer, and there were very few times when saying no was a realistic option. Sighing his resignation, he joined the EMH where he stood, in a corner with a multi-tiered shelf that held several dozen containers and measuring instruments.
"These are the bacterial samples we have been exposing to radiation outside the ship," the Doctor explained. "The Vulcan measles ones?" asked Tom, barely stifling a yawn. The day was catching up with him, in more ways than one.
"The very same. And it is as we … you suspected, the external radiation greatly accelerates growth, as well as encouraging virtually uncontrollable mutation."
"Fascinating," Tom said. "And this couldn't wait until tomorrow because …?"
"I am sorry if I am boring you, Mr. Paris," the Doctor snapped in his prissiest voice. "But I thought – I was mistaken, obviously – that you would be interested to hear that all growth acceleration stopped for approximately three hours around noontime, before starting again."
Tom pondered this for a moment, more out of reflexive courtesy than any genuine scientific interest. A fact emerged from the recesses of his tired mind. "Bacteria don't just stop growing and then start again with no reason."
The EMH gave him a drippingly congratulatory smile. "Precisely. Very good, Mr. Paris. I can see your medical education has not been entirely wasted."
Tom decided to ignore the sarcasm, to exhausted to even roll his eyes. "So, have you figured what caused the disruption?" He stifled another yawn, slightly more successfully than the first.
"No. This is where you come in, Commander." Tom winced at the supercilious use of his rank. Never a good sign with the Doc, who still seemed to have some trouble adjusting to the fact that his former assistant was now in a position to command not only a crew of over a thousand people, including himself, but a certain amount of respect as well. Tom raised a questioning eyebrow, which was about the extent of energy he was willing to devote to further discussion.
"I tried to get someone to provide me with data on what external conditions might have prevailed at that time, but I regret to advise that I was summarily brushed off by the … lady who is in command of Astrometrics. She said, and I quote, 'We're kind of busy up here, and can't be bothered to chase a bunch of germs around'. End of quote. Even Seven of Nine was never that rude."
Tom sighed. Astrometrics had probably been working overtime, confirming the closure windows for the wormhole and charting the fastest course there with the available impulse engines. A course that might get them there in time, despite increasing odds to the contrary. He would not chastise Cran for prioritizing the ship's return over a medical experiment she and her staff knew nothing and couldn't care less about.
At the same time, this experiment was essentially the reason why they had originally brought the Doc to the Trifid, and it behooved him to cooperate to the extent possible. "Fine. I'll get someone to correlate the external sensor data with your time of reduced bacterial growth tomorrow. I assume it can wait that long?"
The Doctor clenched his jaw in a familiar display of displeasure, and activated the most grudging tone he could find in his vocal subroutine inventory. "Yes, I suppose it will have to do. Thank you, Commander."
And with that, Tom picked up his sleeping child gingerly, placed her head on his shoulder and breathed in the familiar, slightly powdery scent. Tinged with … ah yes. "Chocolate? After she brushed her teeth?" He cocked an eyebrow and glanced over at the Doctor, who disrupted his indignation sequence to give him a guilty look. Tom grinned and shook his head. Despite their frequent differences, there was one thing on which the Commander and the hologram were in complete agreement: spoiling Miral was an entirely acceptable pastime.
It was only during the long walk down the corridor to his quarters, holding the small, warm body of his daughter in his arms, that the discussion with the Doc filtered back into Tom's consciousness.
It was after he had settled Miral in the middle of their bed, had curled his long body around hers and had commed B'Elanna to come join them or else, that a thought took shape in his mind: There might be something in the Trifid nebula's physical environment that could disrupt the radiation which caused unrestrained bacterial growth.
And it was as he felt his daughter's heartbeat under his tight embrace, and as the skin of his arms warmed with the soft rhythm of her breath, that Tom Paris understood with perfect clarity that this knowledge would be of great interest to the K'rikians and their dying worlds.