"Purpose"

[Sean Xiang 0]

Sean sat at the science console and to his right sat T’Parek. Together the two worked. Symbols, text, diagrams and messages of every kind flashed across the screens in front of them. Sean held a small earpiece to his right ear. Through it he heard the messages being sent from the L’Traisan vessel that loomed in the viewport. With the information Captain Moore and Lt. Westler had brought back from the L’Traisan homeworld, along with the help of the universal translator, Sean’s grasp of the Ancient L’Traisan language had improved exponentially.

 

Sean tapped a few keys on the keyboard in front of him and a new box opened on his screen. Quickly, he assigned each letter and number of the Ancient L’Traisan language to a key on the board, effectively allowing him to type in Ancient L’Traisan. He made one of the keys a toggle to allow him to change from basic to L’Traisan quickly. He then made the same modifications to T’Parek’s keyboard. He did this in preparation for when Lt. Westler hacked into the alien vessel’s computer. Sean doubted the alien computer would accept commands in basic.

 

“Aliam tra noval, mosonay nar’takata.” ‘Break orbit and leave our space.’ The voice came over the earpiece. “Atar’narna, mortalis enjou. Malia tr’shala makata liou, atara na.” ‘This space belongs to our people now. You no longer have claim over it.’ Sean replied as he continued his preparations.

 

Sean knew this was not going to be easy. Even if Aaron could get him into the alien computer, there was no telling what kind of encryption and/or firewalls, or the equivalent, he would run into. More symbols and text ran across his screen. They represented programs, viruses, and commands in computer language all designed to do one thing: Break into and disable the enemy’s systems.

 

The sense of relief he had felt as the weapons nozzle had slid back underground was now completely gone. Replaced instead by a sense of dread that threatened to consume his being. Sean felt the thinnest layers of sweat forming on his brow. This weapon, this vessel, this sickness. It was all too much to possibly solve. He looked up and to his right, saw T’Parek sitting there. Her hands were flying over her keyboard with a deft sense of purpose, her eyes fixed on the screen in front of her. Sean then looked across the bridge, to Lt. Westler. Again the same sense of purpose and determination. All around the bridge this was the recurring theme.

 

As his eyes came to rest on the Captain, Sean’s head began to clear and the dread began to lessen. Moore moved from one officer to the next, giving orders, requesting reports. In that moment it all spun into perspective for Sean. These people, these beings aboard this vessel and on the surface of Nequencia III could have easily given into dread and the sense of being overwhelmed by a problem of this magnitude. They could have, that is, but for one thing. Purpose.

 

Each person had his or her own task, there own job in solving this problem. No one person could possibly hope to do this alone. Again looking around the bridge, the young Ensign learned a lesson the Academy could not teach.

 

Sean took a deep breath, closed his eyes for the briefest of moments, and then opened them. Turning back to his console, Sean Xiang resumed his task.