Troubleshooting Read online

  “We won’t need it now, but I want it back in its place,” Lense ordered and walked out of the room.

  “Of course, Doctor,” Sarjenka said.

  Lense hoped that when she opened the cabinet, there’d be a spot where a blood infuser would neatly fit.

  Sarjenka had already managed to start making friends among the crew, something Lense herself struggled with despite living aboard the da Vinci for more than a year now. And that length of time had suddenly grown a lot more finite, as her right hand absently stroked her swelling abdomen.

  “She hates me,” Sarjenka said as Conlon walked in the cabin. The engineer noted that Sarjenka hadn’t finished putting her things in order, despite a promise to do so days earlier. Everything the woman did indicated she wasn’t ready to really live on the ship.

  “Now what?” Conlon prompted, avoiding meeting her eyes. Instead, she made a show of folding her uniform top as she changed into her sleeping attire.

  “Now it seems I can’t do inventory to her liking.”

  Conlon slipped out of her pants, again folding them neatly and hanging them in the closet they shared. “And how does she like it?”

  “Is that the point?” Sarjenka did not seem to be getting the point of hanging up the clothes.

  “Well, I know how I like the tools to be stored in engineering and it’s not quite as directed in the manual. I find myself fighting with Fabe about where we keep the common tools. I suspect Captain Scott would approve since it’s my engine room, but he’s as unique as they come.” Conlon seated herself on the edge of her bunk, brushing her hair.

  Sarjenka’s face fell. “I know it’s her space and she’s allowed to have things her way, but she never explains her way to me. My people aren’t mind readers.”

  “Well, that’s good to know,” Conlon said with a smile.

  Sarjenka didn’t return the smile and just sat on her bed. “I spent the rest of the shift reviewing information about DS10.”

  “Amazing place, isn’t it?” Conlon asked, enthusiasm in her voice.

  “If you say so; you’re the engineer.”

  “I practically had to beg to stay involved when we went back a second time. It’s got cutting-edge stuff you’d never see on a ship.”

  “Could those cutting-edge things be causing the atmospheric problems?”

  “I doubt it,” the engineer replied. “They’ve been cursed.” Conlon put the brush down, ready to get some rest before the mission began in earnest. “Sarj, did you ask Lense to explain her ways?”

  “No. She’s the superior officer and I assumed she would show me around. Dantas has been more helpful and I outrank her!”

  Conlon wrapped her arms around a raised knee and collected her thoughts. She wanted the whining to end and make the conversation productive. If they were going to live together, she had to live by her own words.

  “Sarj, because she’s your commanding officer, if you suspect she has her own ways, you should be asking. There are forty-three of us on this ship, and if we don’t make an effort to get along, meet each other halfway whenever possible, there will be fights in the corridors every hour. And you’ll have no time to get mad at Lense, because you’ll be setting bones.”

  She sat silently for a few moments and Conlon had not yet learned to read her more subtle expressions or body language. That would come in time, she hoped. Finally Sarjenka let out a small smile. “I got top marks in bone knitting,” she said.

  Conlon broke into a grin. There might be hope for the kid yet.

  A few hours later, Conlon made sure Sarjenka was dressed and ready for a meal before they had to work. Dr. Sarjenka certainly knew the value of rest and Chief Engineer Conlon knew the equal value of fuel. The mess was a hive of activity as many of the alpha shift crew were clearly looking for the same quick meal. Haznedl and Wong were on their way out as the roommates walked in, exchanging quick nods.

  Sarjenka was already at the food slots while Conlon scanned the room for friendly faces. Well, not that there were unfriendly ones, but the ones she wanted to enjoy before things went to hell, which was to be expected on these missions. She hurried over and ordered her own meal before joining the doctor at a table that was already accommodating Bart Faulwell and Tev. What an odd friendship, she thought, not for the first time. Mentally shrugging it off, she headed in that direction.

  “Morning,” Faulwell said cheerfully. Of all the crew, the slightly older man was the one who usually put newcomers at ease. Conlon nodded, already grabbing her spoon and digging into her steaming bowl of what she liked to refer to as “mush.”

  “So, Sarjenka, what’s our chief engineer like first thing in the morning?” he asked amiably, lingering over a cup of tea.

  “Firing on all plasma injectors,” Sarjenka said, clearly making an effort. It earned her a smile from Faulwell and an odd look from Tev.

  “I take it you’re not as quick to alertness,” Bart continued.

  “Not without a few cc’s of cordrazine,” Sarjenka said around a mouthful of toast. “I manage.”

  “I was explaining to Bartholomew what I suspect to be the problem on the station,” Tev said, abruptly changing the subject back to himself. Conlon figured she would just smile and nod; it seemed to work for most of the crew.

  He looked for a prompt from around the table but, seeing none, went on anyway. “The systemic flaws must all be related to a miswiring of the ODN network. I suspect it happened during construction and with each error it has multiplied, stressing the systems until it caused a cascading failure.”

  Conlon dropped her spoonful of mush with a loud “splooch” sound. “The whole network? Every matrix and relay? Wouldn’t that cause more than one problem, catastrophic as the current one is?”

  “That’s a distinct possibility,” Tev agreed.

  “But we have the one problem,” Conlon said.

  “It might not be the whole network, simply one of the matrices,” the Tellarite argued.

  “Tegor would have found it on inspection long before now,” she said hotly, trying not to let the know-it-all second officer get to her.

  “I never had the opportunity to work with him,” he said, raising his voice for emphasis.

  He’d be getting his chance, Conlon considered, as her mind drifted back to the last time she had worked with the station’s chief of operations.

  Six Months Ago

  Conlon was just putting away her tools, having tweaked the matter injectors because she was bored, when her combadge signaled. She tapped it with one hand while placing the hyperspanner in its locker.

  “Lieutenant, I have the chief engineer at Deep Space 10 asking to speak with you,” Shabalala said from the bridge.

  Conlon frowned. She had been on the station two months ago and hadn’t even met the engineer. The visit was so brief and inconsequential that she was mystified as to what he might want. Standing and brushing off some dust, she walked to her master console and said, “Pipe it down here, Tony.”

  Moments later, the dark features of an Icorian stared at her. He was dusky skinned, leaning toward the purples and grays, with white streaks in his close-cropped hair. He looked anything but happy.

  “This is Nancy Conlon.”

  “I know. I asked for you. Tegor.”

  Well, isn’t he a friendly one? “How can I help?”

  “More glitches.”

  “What sort?”

  “All minor, to be honest. Programming errors, misapplied chips, but it’s a higher percentage than Kesh-Mara is happy with.”

  “Something your size is bound to have things go a little wonky the first few months, right?”

  “This seems to go beyond that.”

  “Is there anything you can’t fix?”

  He visibly stiffened on the screen, which impressed her since he seemed stiff to begin with. “My team was handpicked by me, and nothing has proven beyond our capabilities. However, the errors persist. We’ve got one of the contractors coming back for a look and I’v
e been asked to invite you to join us.” He didn’t want her there, that much was clear from his tone, but orders were orders. She understood that, too.

  “Understood, Tegor.” She could tell his pride was wounded and would need to work gingerly around him. “I’ll talk to Captain Gold and be in touch when we’re en route.”

  Kesh-Mara once again greeted the away team from the da Vinci, which consisted of Nancy along with Sonya Gomez and Fabian Stevens. The Grazerite smiled as readily as before, but this time it seemed forced. Standing beside the commandant was Tegor, short and stocky and looking as happy to see them as he was when extending the invitation. Nearby stood someone not in uniform, but in something brown, stiff, and uncomfortable looking. Nancy recognized her as a Bajoran but something was off about her.

  “Kesla Randu, contractor, may the Prophets be with you,” she said, shooting out a well-manicured hand. Gomez took the hand and shook it once. She quickly introduced the rest of her team and Kesla repeated the greeting to each one, her smile revealing brilliant white teeth.

  “Sorry to bring you back, Commander,” Kesh-Mara said finally. “But these problems seem to be continuing so there has to be a reason.”

  “I agree,” Sonya said amiably. “And I like having us do something a little more in keeping with our mission.”

  “Oh?”

  “We just finished putting a bad businessman out of action. A little too much high finance and finagling for my taste. We’re looking forward to this.”

  “You handled Rod Portlyn,” Randu said excitedly, finally joining the conversation. “I heard about that from the Federation News Service specials. Nice work. Really.”

  “Just another day at the office,” Sonya said, looking slightly embarrassed by the attention.

  “Shall we get started, then?” Tegor said, clearly not one for chitchat.

  “By all means,” Nancy replied. She hefted her toolbox and gestured with it for the station’s chief engineer to lead them on. Kesla Randu followed, keeping her own counsel.

  “Any theories?” Sonya asked her fellow commander.

  “None. I don’t want to suspect the worst from people. This is a new station, using some new techniques in its construction, as your man said on your last visit. Any time you try something new, the unforeseen happens.”

  “A fellow optimist, I see,” Fabian said with a laugh.

  Kesh-Mara exhaled. “I try.”

  Tegor took them several decks below and deeper within the bowels of the station than they had seen before. Nancy stared in happy fascination to see how some of the new circuit patterns were working and the way the modified gel packs were housed and monitored. She had enough leave saved that if she thought she could tolerate Tegor, and he her, she’d use a week’s time and poke around the station. Engineering was more than her job, but a passion, and here was a chance to indulge it a bit.

  She glanced at Tegor, who seemed positively grim, and decided against requesting any leave.

  As they walked, they would stop and he would gesture at something. The first time they stopped, he pointed to a doorway. “These doors refused to open for one hour and seventeen minutes,” he said. “Manual override didn’t work. Neither did rerouting the command sequences. Brute strength was useless, which pleased our security people.”

  “What fixed it?” Sonya asked.

  “Two of my people had to pull out every bolt and had to literally rebuild the door frame.”

  Randu blinked at that, uncertainty in her eyes. Nancy figured the construction rep was worried that the door was her concern. When Tegor didn’t look her way, she visibly exhaled, causing Nancy to roll her eyes.

  Every now and then Tegor paused as Sonya took a scan or Randu measured something and entered notes onto a padd. Nancy noted he wasn’t much for conversation or elaboration, probably one of those engineers who were very good with warp cores and unable to hold an extended conversation with real people. She encountered way too many of those types while studying at Starfleet Academy. Fortunately, they mostly wound up doing research, where they seemed happiest.

  “Have any of these incidents been life threatening?”

  “No, Ms. Kesla.”

  Fabian grinned. “Well, that’s something, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, Mr. Stevens.”

  “What happened here?” Sonya asked.

  “Isolinear chips glitched, rerouting wastewater away from the recyclers.”

  “How does that happen?”

  “I think that’s why we’re all looking around.”

  And so it went. Nancy figured Tegor and Tev would get along just swell. She was getting to know the second officer somewhat better but still thought someone needed to take him down a peg or two. Still, he let her work her way, which kept the peace for now.

  Two hours later, there was still no real sense of a common thread linking the problems. Nancy was beginning to think it might be a contractor problem and that Tev, Lord help her, was right, and they maybe rushed with the unfamiliar.

  As they finally returned to the commandant’s office, Kesla Randu excused herself to contact her firm. Once she left, Nancy leaned into Sonya and said softly, “I figured it out.”

  “What? The problem?”

  “No, Kesla. She’s the first happy-looking Bajoran I’ve ever seen. Everyone else has been so…somber.”

  Sonya nodded and then broke into a smile when she saw her shipmate P8 Blue talking with Kesh-Mara. The structural engineer was introduced to Tegor, who only nodded at her. Kesla, walking back from her call, was friendlier and genuinely interested in talking with the Nasat. No doubt the Bajoran woman had never spoken with Pattie’s species before.

  “What did you learn?”

  “The station is fine,” Pattie said in her clicking voice. “The exterior is also fine. This list of problems has not threatened the integrity of the station.”

  “Good,” Tegor said.

  “Everything is within the design specs,” Pattie added.

  “Well, of course,” the Bajoran said proudly. “Maybe we’ve seen the last of these problems.”

  “Famous last words,” Nancy whispered to Sonya, who nodded.

  CHAPTER

  3

  Now

  “Approaching Deep Space 10,” Wong said.

  “You beat the estimate,” Gold said admiringly.

  “All part of the service,” he replied.

  “Station keeping, please.” He turned to his first officer. “What’s the plan, Gomez?”

  “Nancy and I will poke around and see what’s wrong, fix it, and let everyone take a deep breath.”

  “And when that doesn’t work the first time?” he asked wryly.

  “Then I have Domenica coordinate with their security chief, send Pattie in search of something structural, and we get serious.”

  “As opposed to the first time you and Conlon tampered with their systems.”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Get started. I can only imagine the panic they’re feeling. In fact, let’s skip part one, and get serious the first time.”

  Gomez nodded once and gestured to Tev, who silently watched the banter, clearly not amused. Gomez didn’t much care, given that banter was something humans perfected, while Tellarites were better at the craft of arguing. Together, they left the bridge and collected a variety of tools before heading to the transporter. Already awaiting them were P8 Blue, Corsi, Lense, and someone else behind the tall security chief. As the bodies shifted, Gomez saw it was Lauoc Saon, the much more compactly built Bajoran security guard. She hadn’t gotten to know him well, but saw that Corsi had given him high ratings so that was good enough for her.

  Lense began handing out rebreathers, which the engineer appreciated. As they affixed the device to their uniforms, Gomez addressed her team.

  “Okay, team, here’s the protocol. It’s their station but they called us in to fix the problem. Elizabeth, you’re with Nancy and me to check the source of the problem. Pattie, until we need you, keep
alert. Tev, you monitor everything from the control room. Let’s get the job done and let them have the station back in one piece. We tell them everything we’re doing and also share whatever we find along the way. We’re all Starfleet here so let’s not get caught up in boundary issues—it’ll just waste time and needlessly piss someone off.”

  The heads nodded or bobbed in agreement as they took the platform. Laura Poynter was ready to execute the order but paused to wish them luck before engaging the transporter.

  Moments later, the team had rematerialized on the station and Gomez could already tell how foul the air was getting. Lauoc was slipping the clear plastic mask of the rebreather over his wrinkled nose. Lense had begun scanning with her tricorder and Gomez spotted Kesh-Mara and Tegor approaching. Neither looked happy, which was no surprise.

  “We have implemented emergency conditions, keeping people closer together, feeding fresh air to fewer portions of the station,” Tegor said brusquely.

  “As the captain recommended,” Gomez said approvingly.

  “Actually, as Commander Kesh-Mara ordered,” the Icorian said.

  Gomez held her breath to avoid saying something and then choked as she stifled a cough brought on by the stale air. She quickly introduced her team and then asked the commandant to have Corsi meet with the station security chief. With a nod of her head, she indicated that she was getting to work. Everyone knew his or her role so they hurried off and as they did, Gomez mulled over whether or not she’d find an actual gremlin causing the havoc.

  Five Months Ago

  “Plasma manifolds just don’t shut down on their own,” Kesh-Mara complained from the viewscreen. In his cabin, David Gold looked at the bewildered expression on the Grazerite’s face.

  “No, they don’t.”

  “Replicators also don’t suddenly delete personal menu options.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “And don’t start me on the waste reclamation issue.”

  “I won’t.” His smile didn’t get one in return. Obviously Kesh-Mara was having more than his share of problems. Anything new will have its share of shakedown issues, but Kesh-Mara was certainly right, this had gone on longer than it should have. “Does Tegor have any new theories?”