... and you may ask yourself ...

[Shalin 0]

How did I get here?

 

Shan Shalin looked about the bridge with an expression of mixed cluelessness and desperation. He was the helmsman; a glorified pilot. If they were facing a meteor shower, an ion storm, or any other kind of physical threat it would be possible that he could command the ship through it given his experiences. This wasn't a piloting issue, though. The ship had been invaded ... no, perhaps infected would be a better term. In any case, there were mechanical monsters swarming through the vessel and he had no idea what to do about it.

 

Well, maybe that wasn't correct. He did order the ship into a high orbit before the crisis began. The entire vessel could, at this point, be turned to rubble and it would be months before the orbit decayed enough to risk hitting the planet. Any other astrological hazard was extremely unlikely, so it could be said that he did what was most important: he did put the vessel in a position where the only immediate threat were hundreds of giant mechanical wasps. Only what was he to do now? He had alerted Security, had Engineering and the Bridge sealed off - though with that acid it was likely that containment wouldn't last long. Shalin cursed the Orions, even as he admired their cleverness. They weren't like the Federation: they didn't put themselves at risk, they sent in automations.

 

That thought caught Shan's mind. Why didn't the Federation use automations, rather than constantly putting sentient beings in red shirts in harm's way? Every Starfleet cadet knew the answer: because androids and robots weren't capable of independent or creative thought. They did what they were told, end of story. But the 'wasps' weren't acting that way: they seemed to be working in concert, taking on specific goals. That meant they were either finely programmed with details of the Comanche Creek specifications, or they were being externally directed. It was grasping at straws, but there was a signal that was sent before the 'wasps' attacked.

 

Shan knew his next order: to have the Communications Leutenant scan for a carrier signal. If there was one, they could jam it. Maybe that would shut the 'wasps' down, or at least eliminate their ability to work in groups. Shan hoped that would be the case, though he knew that doing so might make things go sour. The beasties might be programmed to explode if such jamming took place, or wreak absolute havoc wherever they were, or maybe they were just that well made and programmed that there wasn't any command signal. He shrugged at the thought: no plan was perfect. In order to have a perfect plan he would need to know far more than he did. That information wouldn't be forthcoming any time soon, so he would just have to improvise.

 

Am I right, or am I wrong?

 

Leaning on a nearby rail, Shan prepared to face whatever was coming. He did so with a smile, because there was one thing that was certain in this mess - whatever happened wouldn't be his fault. He never should've been put in command: he was all but surrounded by senior officers. Although he respected the XO very much, she didn't make a very smart decision when she put him in the command chair. Assuming he survived this, any board of inquiry would hold her responsible. He would not be held accountable so long as he made a good-faith effort and didn't disobey any incoming orders from Commander Wesley or the Captain. He took one last breath and stiffened. It was time to act.