“Yeah, okay,” the human said, mildly chastened—but not silenced. “Still, what kind of natural explanation could there be for evolving transporters and replicators?”
“Well, let’s consider that possibility.” Jaza brought up his scans from aboard the Pa’haquel ship and during the battles, and compared them with readings from the Enterprise-D’s encounter at Deneb. “There—that looks like a telekinetic component in their transporter signature. During their transformations, too.”
“I suppose,” Orilly said, “that a sufficiently advanced telekinetic brain could be able to manipulate matter on a molecular level.”
“Particularly when it’s as large as a starship’s saucer,” Eviku added.
“Yes. And if it had the ability to harness subspace fields, couldn’t it telekinetically transmit matter through subspace and achieve teleportation?”
Jaza raised a brow. “We can’t rule out the possibility.”
“Still, it doesn’t seem very probable, does it?” Norellis asked.
“Well, how about this,” said Eviku. “Given their ability to transform their own bodies as needed, it’s possible that ancient star-jellies could have observed starships performing such tasks as teleportation and warp propulsion and then created their own equivalents. Even if these traits are artificial, it doesn’t mean someone designed them to serve as ships.”
Norellis mulled that over. “I guess that’s possible. But then, how do you explain the smooth floors, and the corridor lights?”
“They’re naturally bioluminescent,” Eviku said. “It’s only natural that the light could be seen through translucent internal membranes. As for the floors…hmm, maybe they’re smooth to facilitate the purging of contaminants—so that nothing gets stuck in a depression where it can linger and cause damage.”
“It’s a stretch.”
“Yes, it is.” The Arkenite sighed and turned to Jaza. “The star-jellies have a strong taboo against desecrating the dead, right?”
“Quite right.”
“I don’t suppose there’s any chance that taboo would include an exception for autopsies done in the name of scientific enlightenment?”
“No, I rather doubt it.”
“We could at least beam over and take a closer look, couldn’t we?” Norellis asked. “Maybe take a few little tissue samples? They wouldn’t have to know.”
“It wouldn’t be proper,” Jaza said firmly. “Science is no excuse for disrespect toward others’ spiritual beliefs.”
“So it’s all right to stay ignorant? That doesn’t sound like science-officer thinking.”
Jaza smiled. “I believe that science and faith are compatible quests for enlightenment. There’s always a way to serve them both.” At the moment, though, he had to admit he couldn’t think of one. He could sympathize with Norellis’s temptation to autopsy the star-jelly from the inside. “Hm. Maybe if we try a—”
Just then, the captain’s voice came over the intercom. “Lieutenant Commander Jaza, report to the bridge, please.”
He tapped his combadge. “Jaza here. What’s happening?”
“Deanna’s been contacted by the jellies. It seems they want their body back.”
When the star-jelly pod emerged from warp, several million kilometers off Titan’s bow, its fourteen members were fully armored. Riker at first wondered if the Pa’haquel had tracked them, until Jaza identified their warp-emergence signatures. That didn’t entirely put him at ease, though. “Why are they armored? Do they still blame us for luring them into an ambush?”
“We should raise shields,” Kuu’iut advised.
“Wait,” Deanna said, her attention focused elsewhere. After a moment, she turned to Riker. “They don’t blame us anymore. They can see the truth in my thoughts. They know we meant them no harm. Still, they’re timid, hesitant. They need to assert their strength, and we need to show submission to put them at ease.”
“You heard the lady, Mr. Kuu’iut. Shields down—and think friendly thoughts.”
“We should release the tractor beam as well,” Deanna added, “and back away respectfully from the corpse.”
Riker nodded. “Disengage tractor,” he said evenly, trying to maintain a calm and properly solemn state of mind and project as much to his crew. “Helm, thrusters aft, five hundred meters per second. Then resume station at one hundred klicks.”
“Thrusters aft, aye,” Lavena acknowledged, her voice appropriately muted. Riker recalled that she’d always been good at responding to his moods; then he quashed that thought as it brought an amused glare from Deanna.
By now, the jellies’ shells were starting to ripple with cloudy white light, while discrete blobs of purple flowed through their meridional fissures in the opposite direction. Then, nearly in synch with each other, the jellies began to flip over and fade into translucence, a maneuver he recalled from the Deneb encounter. “Why the rotation?” Jaza asked.
“I think it’s a form of display,” Deanna told him. “To show your full face and confirm that you are dropping your defenses. Also to aim your tentacles at whatever your weapon emitter was aimed at before.”
Once the jellies had de-armored and deployed their tentacles, they drew into formation around their slain comrade. Two of them cradled it gently while a third took its limp, trailing tentacles and ceremonially furled them back into their ventral depression. As they did so, Riker stood to attention. A moment later, the rest of the bridge crew followed, and they silently paid tribute to the fallen.
When the furling was done, the two bearers grasped the corpse more tightly, drawing closer. A tear rolling down her cheek, Deanna spoke. “They offer us deep gratitude for our reverence toward their lost sibling, and for rescuing it from desecration. We have proven ourselves their friends, and in return they wish to invite us to accompany them.”
“Accompany them where?”
“I think…yes…to the world where it was born. They wish to return it there. Here,” she said, moving over to the helm, “they’ve given me the location.”
She consulted with Lavena for a moment, locating the proper star on her helm display. “It should be a two-day journey at warp seven,” Lavena said.
Riker looked from her to Deanna. “Tell them…we’d be honored.”
Ree clucked his tongue as he studied Tuvok’s neurological scans. “You’re certain that the jellies are still making contact with you?”
“Yes, Doctor. It is unquestionably they. The telepathic inhibitor is proving insufficient.”
“Only on you, it seems. Your wife, Orilly, and the others are all adequately inhibited.”
“But they are targeting me specifically for contact. When I—” He hesitated, out of the embarrassment which Vulcans supposedly didn’t feel. Ree had to admire the Vulcans for their sense of irony—imagine, pretending to be emotionless, and then pretending the pretense was logical! And of course anyone who could smell their pheromones could tell how flimsy their facade of dispassion truly was. “When I attempted to transmit the sensor information to the star-jellies…although I did not obtain the information, the attempt did reveal to them the knowledge that such information exists.” Ree noted that he wasn’t calling them by their scientific name anymore. Did that perhaps denote a growing sympathy toward them? “Since then, they have made attempts to persuade me to share the data about the warp signatures, and the specifications for our sensor technology.”
“Persuade? Are these attempts coercive?”
“I do not believe they are intended to be, but that is the effect. The…emotions…feel like one’s own. Without the inhibitor, I share their desire for rescue from the Pa’haquel as profoundly as they. Even with the inhibitor, I am concerned that they may be able to influence me unduly if they bring enough effort to bear upon me. You must increase the inhibitor dosage if I am to return to duty.”
“I fear it is not so simple, Mr. Tuvok.” Ree’s tail began to twitch as it did when he was wrestling with a problem whose neck eluded his jaws. “There are limits to the efficacy of medication. It can only modify the brain’s chemistry so much, and its structure barely at all. And your brain, Mr. Tuvok…” It’s a real mess,he wanted to say. “It has been through an inordinate amount of strain over the past decade. Let me see,” he said, reviewing Tuvok’s file. “Brainwashing by a Maquis operative…thermal damage from a telekinetic accident…limbic-system imbalance following a meld with a Betazoid sociopath…decades-long infection by a dormant memory virus…extensive brain damage and memory loss from neuroleptic shock…temporary Borg assimilation…and the onset of the preliminary stages of fal-tor-voh.”