The room was comparable in size to the M’ahtagh’s largest cargo hold, with a high, arched ceiling that, like the walls and even the floor, was made of the same damnable, forbidding substance. One of the landing parties under Lorka’s direction had positioned a series of six portable lighting columns around the chamber’s perimeter. While illumination allowed him to see the room’s contents, Komoraq could not help noticing yet again that the light caused absolutely no reflection in the walls, floor, or ceiling, as though whatever material used to construct them were absorbing the energy and leaving no trace.
Lorka paused a moment, drawing a deep breath as though to compose herself, before returning her attention to her husband and the inert console. “According to the scans I’ve made of everything we’ve found down here, this panel is the key. My readings suggest that it harbors a type of biometric or possibly even bioneural interface, embedded within a crystal lattice, which I assume forms a power-distribution network, though it’s not one I’ve encountered before.”
“Let us pretend I understood nothing you just said,” Komoraq said, his grin laced with an underlying menace. “What does all of that mean?”
Her hand moving as though of its own free will to the sheathed d’k taghknife she wore on her left hip, Lorka regarded him with smoldering annoyance. “If you were not my husband, I would have killed you long ago.” Despite her words and expression, Komoraq noted the way her eyes regarded him. Though she would never admit it while life still coursed through her body, she enjoyed their verbal jousts as much as he did, as they often served as a momentary respite from the demands of her duties.
None of that meant that Lorka would not later seek reprisal for his role in this discussion, of course, and Komoraq found himself rather looking forward to making good on that debt.
“It means that a form of direct energy transfer is required, through this console,” she said, moving to stand once again before the panel. “Without whatever piece of technology is missing to complete the connection as originally intended, we’ve been forced to experiment with alternative methods. None of our portable generators seems to possess the required output levels, so I’ve decided to attempt powering it via direct energy transfer from the ship.”
Komoraq was familiar with the notion, having seen a similar tactic employed to transmit power from an orbiting vessel to ground-based weapons emplacements such as crewed disruptor cannons and related armaments. Frowning, he asked, “Wouldn’t there be a risk of damaging or destroying the mechanism?”
Lorka nodded. “Possibly, but I find it unlikely. Based on everything I’ve learned from my sensor scans, the technology used to construct this equipment is quite robust. All indications are that it is more than capable of channeling even the maximum power we might direct at it. What is in question is compatibility. There may be frequency or other calibration issues to resolve, even if this console recognizes our power signature.”
Without waiting for permission to proceed, she reached to her belt for the communications device on a clip next to her d’k tagh.Pressing the control to activate the unit, she growled, “ M’ahtagh,this is Science Officer Lorka. Is that pathetic excuse for a chief engineer ready to transfer ship’s power?”
“Yes,”a deep voice replied through the communicator’s speaker grille, offering nothing else. After a moment, the voice added, “He has completed his adjustments to our deflector relay and is standing by for your order to proceed.”
“Very well,” Lorka said, stepping toward the portable energy converter. Komoraq watched as she reached for a control to activate the unit, at the same time verifying that she had properly aligned its transceiver assembly to direct the energy it would be converting toward the alien control panel. “Proceed.”
The room was abruptly filled with a high-pitched whine as the energy converter began receiving the power transmission from the M’ahtagh.The reaction by the alien technology was immediate, with the console’s array of crystals flaring to life, accompanied by a synchronized string of melodic tones echoing within the chamber. Then he noted a telltale vibration in the floor beneath his boots, along with a hum beginning to resonate throughout the chamber. Around him, recessed lighting panels began to brighten, very dim at first but growing in intensity with each passing moment.
Studying the readouts on her portable scanner, Lorka said, “I’m picking up power signatures from somewhere beneath us. It looks as if other systems are activating.”
“You’ve done it,” Komoraq said, watching the display with no small amount of excitement.
Wielding a portable scanner, Lorka shook her head. “I don’t think so. There are too many fluctuations in the power transfer to the console. The energy we’re providing isn’t truly compatible with this technology.” She looked over her shoulder, barking orders to one of her team members to adjust the settings on the energy converter’s control panel.
Komoraq watched as the illuminated console began to sputter and flicker. Several of the crystals went dark, followed almost as quickly by others, until all of them once again lay dormant. Along with the panel itself, the oddly enticing litany of almost musical tones faded. The overhead lighting was extinguished, and the reverberations in the floor beneath him quieted as well.
Lorka, uttering one of her preferred strings of colorful oaths, turned to the converter, pushing aside her subordinate and taking over the task of calibrating the unit. Her efforts yielded only fleeting results as the panel reactivated for a moment, a shorter version of the light show playing out across the console’s surface before it again went dark. When she made further adjustments to the converter, the alien equipment revived once more but only for a few seconds.
Holding out her scanner, Lorka stepped closer to the panel, shaking her head in disgust as she reviewed the readings. “It’s as though it shut down deliberately,” she said after a moment. “I don’t understand. Some kind of defense mechanism to prevent intrusion by unauthorized users?” With a final grunt of rage, she threw the scanner against one obsidian wall, and the unit exploded into dozens of pieces that scattered across the floor. She punctuated her angry display with another chorus of profanity.
“What?” Komoraq asked.
Shaking her head, Lorka replied, “I picked up no residual readings whatsoever. For whatever reason, the console decided the power I was sending to it wasn’t compatible with its systems and shut everything down.” She released another enraged growl. “Just as on the other planets where this technology has been discovered, without this key component being active, we won’t be able to access any of the structure’s lower levels.”
She did not have to complete her thought. Komoraq knew precisely what she had not put into words. The lower levels housed the truly remarkable examples of the ancient race’s wondrous technology. If this planet possessed a global defense system comparable to ones seen on other worlds in the Gonmog Sector, then it harbored a weapon capable of ensuring the Klingon Empire’s supremacy throughout the galaxy.
Assuming that those who created the weapon don’t decide to use it on us and the planet itself,he mused. There already had been examples of such power being unleashed even in the brief time that had passed since both Federation and Klingon ships had ventured into this region of space. Since learning of this technology and the potential it offered, Komoraq had spent many evenings imagining what he might accomplish with such weaponry under his direct control. There would be no limit to what he might achieve, but now he was sensing the enormous opportunity beginning to slip from his grasp.