Part of USS Daedalus (Archive): False Shepherd

Anatomy of a Wolf (pt.8)

Jenkins Alpha, Near the Cardassian Border
April, 2401
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“We didn’t manage to get much in the way of solid sensor data.” Oyvo sighed, her long fingers dancing across the small padd at the conference table. The holographic depiction of Bletchley base, its skyscraper hull silhouetted against the brown desert moon that provided its gravitational anchor, rippled in response. Hull panels rolled away in a shimmer of photonic illusion as the photorealistic model gave way to a wireframe depiction of the aging station, the dust storms that rolled across the moon abated and faded away as the projection expanded into clearer view. 

“We did manage to establish there’s an odd power draw across the station, even when in Red Alert.” Another few touches to the padd and an overlay of yellow power conduits sprang into existence. “At the centre of the station is a major power draw.” She motioned to the tiny yellow sun at the centre of the hologram. “I’ve no idea what it is, lots of power going in but not a lot seeming to come out.”

“A weapon?” Bahir asked, his eyes narrowing.

“Or some sort of shielding?” Bib offered in support. The Andorian commander of Theta Squad had already ruffled Bahir’s scales in joining the crew, rebuilding a bridge he had burnt merely with his presence aboard required positive steps at every opportunity.  

His eyes narrowing even further Bahir turned slowly towards him. “Whilst their shielding appeared to be upgraded from the base’s original specification, we made significant dents in their coverage with only limited fire. I doubt it is tied into their shield array.”

‘Strike one.’ Bib thought to himself as he retreated back in his chair, fleeing the lava like disapproval that poured from Bahir’s ever narrowing eyes. 

“Can’t say the same for their weapons systems.” Sima interrupted, seemingly oblivious to the fiery exchange. Her short black hair, normally slicked back against her head was ruffled and teased where her hands had massaged it, bidding solutions to flow from her brain. “Their firing solutions were ridiculously adaptive.” A quick glance from Captain Tanek hurried a clarification from her lips. “No major damage but the shields wouldn’t have lasted much longer. We’re lucky we were fast; Kaya managed to outrun the bulk of the incoming fire.” 

“It’s safe to say the base has been upgraded.” A long sigh slipped from Dil’s mouth. “Any bio-signs?” 

A small shake of the head from Oyvo punctuated the silent room. They had expected several dozen researchers and support staff to be aboard. All hope of a simple equipment fault had been quickly dispelled. 

A cool voice cut across the table, “No biological life signs were present aboard the station, from our limited sensor readings it appears the life support was offline. Ambient temperature aboard the base was approximately 3 degrees. Anyone aboard would have frozen to death.” Rana spoke matter-of-factly from the far end of the table, her head still buried in one of a half dozen padds she had brought to the briefing. A stifled intake of breath from Oyvo broke her focus. Ignoring the young Xindi Lieutenant she continued. “It was due to this low ambient temperature that were able to notice large power draw at the centre of the station.”

“Because of the heat signature?” Dil asked.

“Quite the opposite. The focus of the power draw is significantly colder than the rest of the station.” She reached for another padd and brought a different overlay to the floating wireframe in the centre of the table. A blue heatmap rippled across the station’s layout, dipping to a deep purple at the centre of the station’s upper section. “I believe this indicates a significant central computing or processing device, likely with a large scale heat transfer system. Probably artificial intelligence.”

Her words echoed like a gong through the room, rippling across the ocean of wide eyes. The Federation, and Starfleet by extension, had a troubled history with the recognition of artificial sentience Though several landmark cases had progressed the cause, the historical loss of life associated with synthetic agents still loomed large in living memory. The synth attack on Mars, the battles of Wolf 359 and Sector 001, even the M5 incident echoed through the halls of many law makers within the Federation; despite their vastly differing agents and causes, they had all made artificial sentience an uncomfortable topic of conversation. 

“Carry on Rana.” Tanek, who had remained quiet throughout the briefing, urged the science officer to continue. 

“I have been examining the research logs available to us from Starfleet. What is available is thin, large portions have been redacted, though reading between the lines I believe the team may have inadvertently developed a sentience several months ago then hidden the research from Starfleet at large.” She collected the pile of padds together in one pile. “For several years progress was slow but sustained, then almost overnight progress ceased, all further reports are short and report no viable improvements. Eventually Starfleet Command reallocated support into other avenues though the base was left to continue with minimal support, largely provided by the Cardassian Union as part of our ongoing research co-operative.” The older Betazoid woman sat rigid in her chair as she dismissed the holographic display at the centre of the table. “I surmise they may have, for lack of a better term, ‘birthed’ a form of artificial sentience and then hid it either due to fear or in an attempt to remain in control. It would appear they were not successful.”

A second stifled intake of breath came from Oyvo’s direction, Dil picked up the conversational baton before a argument found itself blooming amongst the staff. Rana was recently rediscovering the kinder side of her personality but the recent trauma of the Dominion had caused her to retreat back into a cold view of the universe. “That explains the presence of the Cardassians then.” He turned towards Bib, “Any update?”

With a slow intake of breath Bib relayed the latest news from Sickbay, where Zaya had taken a leading role in the recused Cardassian crews care. “We rescued 5 crew members from the Hurin. Unfortunately we lost 3 of them to their injuries. The other 2 are currently recovering from surgery, Zaya will update us on any change.” He chose not to mention the final aspect of Zaya’s brief update, that an old friend Natel was one of the survivors and more concerningly had at one time served the Cardassian Intelligence office. Until Zaya could establish his current role within the union there was no need to worry the staff, a quiet message to Captain Tanek would be sufficient for now. 

Silence descended once more on the briefing room as all eyes turned to the captain, his own vision lost to endless field of stars that hung beyond the rooms wide windows. “We need to get into the base, either to secure it or terminate any threat.” His voice sounded distant, contemplating the litany of moral and ethical issues the crew may face should they discover the team had indeed brought an artificial intelligence into being. As his eyes returned to focus he looked towards the Bajoran Commander next to him. “Any chance of Starfleet support?”

“Nothing nearby. Theres a retired Miranda class, the Spring Dream, a few hours away but they’re now hauling for the auxiliary service. They’re barely armed and very lightly crewed. Pretty much everyone else is off celebrating Frontier Day.” Dil replied, the threat wasn’t so high as to interrupt the fleet’s preparations for the second biggest day of the year. 

“In any case we need to get aboard and investigate. A direct assault isn’t going to be too successful so let’s consider all our options before we call in the big guns.” Tanek gave a small smile in reassurance. “Dismissed.”

As the senior staff filed out, ideas already quietly brewing amongst them Tanek reached for Dil’s arm as he went to stand. “I’m worried Dil. This mission might throw up some difficult decisions.”

“You always know what to do Captain.” Dil smiled as he gave the older Denobulan’s hand a reassuring squeeze and took his leave, scooting after the team to begin planning. 

Tanek nervously pressed the small keypad set into the desk in front of him. As the holographic station shimmered into existence he felt the hot pangs of fear begin to creep across his chest, his muscles tightened and his breathing quickened. Across the projected starscape fragments of shattered ships rolled haphazardly, hands desperately beating against their cracked windows as open mouths screamed hopelessly for rescue. Cracked hulks of proud space stations sank slowly into the fiery tornado of a burning atmosphere as trapped workers faced their last moments in fear and confusion. Tanek was left alone, trapped amongst his own fearful memories.