“Lieutenant, Chief,” Julian said, holding up a hand in the direction of each woman, “by the end of this journey, I suspect everyone on Defiantwill have read Burning Hearts of Qo’noSso I’d advise you both to—Tlaral? Are you all right?”
The Yrythny technologist swayed where she sat, her lashless eyelids flickering. “I’m sorry—I feel a little unwell.”
Grabbing the tricorder beside him, Julian performed a quick scan. “Obviously, I’m not well versed in Yrythny physiology, but I doubt the level of fluctuation I’m seeing in your readings is normal. Electrolytes, pulse, temperature, hormones…”
Tlaral tipped again, this time forward. She threw down her hands to prevent a fall. “I think I need to lie down,” she whispered.
Shavoh helped Julian ease Tlaral onto her back. Prynn shoved the pillow beneath her legs, elevating her feet. Bashir ordered Bowers to retrieve his medical bag while Chao doused a cloth in water and draped it over Tlaral’s forehead.
“I probably haven’t eaten enough today and I’ve worked a double shift,” Tlaral said weakly. Her eyes rolled, her lids dropped and she went limp.
Julian scanned Tlaral with his tricorder. “Prynn, help me examine her for any external injuries.”
While Tenmei went to work removing the Yrythny’s tunic, Bashir rechecked his tricorder readings before turning his attention to Tlaral’s back. “What’s this on her shoulder—a birthmark, an old injury?”
Shrugging, Shavoh covered his eyes, worried. “I don’t know. She had an accident in engineering last spring, but I think she broke her foot.”
“Her heart is racing—I think it’s related to the hormonal surge I picked up with my tricorder.”
“Wait!” Shavoh said suddenly.
“Is there something I need to know?” Julian asked.
“Check her palms, Doctor.”
Tenmei lifted Tlaral’s arm and turned over her hand. Her palms bore the faint imprint of a blue starburst.
Relieved, Shavoh sighed. “She’s ready to go into the waters! It’s her time to mate. This is her first time and I’m sure she didn’t know what to expect. But she’ll be fine. I’ll fetch her consort. Minister M’Yeoh will be pleased.” Shavoh sprang to his feet and ran out the door.
Julian dropped back on his heels as Tenmei eased Tlaral back into her tunic. “Learn something new all the time. Today it’s Yrythny fertility.”
After a few minutes, Tlaral’s lids flickered back, her eyes darting anxiously around the room. “What happened—I was sitting and then it all went black.”
“As your colleague Shavoh put it, you’re ready to go into the waters. She’s gone for your consort.”
She pressed her hands to her temples. “Oh. That’s unexpected. I didn’t think it would be for another year,” she said nervously.
“Breathe a little more slowly. You might hyperventilate.” Julian rubbed her shoulder, hoping it would calm her down. “The scar on your back—it’s directly behind your heart and your pulse is highly irregular. Did you have an injury?”
Slowly, she relaxed, taking a proffered blanket from Prynn, tucking it up around her chin. “As a child, Doctor. I was caught in a coral tunnel near my House. Nothing to worry about.”
Shavoh appeared with Minister M’Yeoh in tow. He waddled across the room and squatted down by his consort. “Thank you, Doctor,” he said, taking Tlaral’s hand in his.
“Congratulations are in order. You’re going to be parents, I think?”
M’Yeoh didn’t have time to follow up with Bashir; an announcement boomed over the comsystem, announcing the Avaril’s approach to the Consortium.
When Vaughn arrived on the Avaril’s bridge, he saw what looked like a frozen spray of brilliant white gold exploding on the viewscreen. For a moment, he questioned whether they’d actually dropped out of warp, though the warp-engine pulse had been replaced with the static hum of impulse. He looked more closely.
Geyserlike eruptions of a giant-size gas particle fountain spread slowly with spindly, chrysanthemum grace.
“Magnificent, isn’t it?” Minister M’Yeoh gurgled, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.
Absorbing the spectacular vista, Vaughn simply nodded.
“Our scientists have postulated it’s a ruptured singularity,” M’Yeoh said.
“A white hole?” Vaughn ventured, wishing Shar were here.
“I’m afraid I’m not familiar with that term, Commander. Nevertheless, I think you’ll agree it is a glory to behold by any name.”
The navigational sensors were recalibrated. Chieftain J’Maah barked an order to raise shields and increase stabilizers in response to the ebb and flow of gravitational winds originating from the fountain, but not soon enough. Forceful gusts slamming into the starboard side sent the massive Avarillurching and swaying. Yrythny crew and guests alike grabbed onto the closest fixed rail, chair or terminal to avoid being thrown to the floor.
“These straits before we reach the Consortium are the worst, storm-wise,” J’Maah explained to Vaughn. “We’ll be rocking for a few more minutes and then it’s steady traveling until we dock.”
The Avarilheaved with drunken equilibrium until she passed into a dome-shaped debris field created when matter spewing from the fountain coalesced and cooled, leaving hard, pitted asteroids behind. Nearer the fountain, hot particulate globs glowed white, gradually darkening to invisibility as the vacuum of space cooled them. It was for these nondescript space rocks that they had traveled so far, motivated by the hope of obtaining material resilient enough to manufacture femtobots.
Because the Avarilmoved slowly, using her tractor beams to move the larger space rocks (some the size of starships) blown into the shipping lane, Vaughn had time to watch the small mining pods flitting around the debris field closest to the particle fountain. He admired the ingeniousness of the mining pods utilizing small ramscoops to gather in the cooling particle matter. As J’Maah had explained, the total matter collected by a pod on a single trip to the particle fountain was called a “load.” Each Consortium member was entitled to a fixed percentage of loads. Once the member quotas were satisfied, loads became available on the open market. Tomorrow, Vaughn anticipated that one of those mining pods, now flitting about like pollinating insects, would be bringing back a load with Defiant’s name on it.
Full pods flew back to their launch bays in the heart of one of the larger asteroids. Rimmed with flashing lights, silver doors rised open and the pods skimmed along narrow octagonal tunnels drilled inside. Hints of the asteroid’s internal structures emerged on the surface: glittering domes, needle towers, tunnelways, and massive, reinforced support struts linked to other inhabited asteroids.
One asteroid linked to another and another, and still others beyond Vaughn’s sight creating a massive, asymmetrical structure resembling a complex molecular model or the frame of a geodesic dome. Here, a surface glowed with radiant lights where architects had burrowed deep into rock; there, derrick-style living space perched on the surface of an asteroid. J’Maah had shown him a Consortium map more akin to a molecular model than any city state Vaughn had familiarity with. He had counted more than eighty-five “suites” (as inhabited asteroids were called) before J’Maah clicked to the next screen.
The Avaril,because of her size, would dock at a publicly held platform. Such a location facilitated better access to the Core, host to the Consortium’s primary business operations, the matter collecting operation, and public facilities.
Vaughn’s task was straightforward. A small Starfleet contingent would go with Minister M’Yeoh to the Member Business Offices. The necessary permits would be acquired, a trade negotiated, and once the matter load was safely ensconced in the Defiant’s storage bay, the Avarilwould return to Vanìmel. Vaughn expected to see Dax’s away team six days from now, even anticipating a few bumps along the way. Rare was the plan that proceeded without some complication. Consequently, he decided to hold off contacting Dax until the deal had been settled. That way, she’d have a better idea of how much time she had to work with the Yrythny assemblies. Reassurance that a critical component of the Defiant’s upgraded defense system had been acquired would put her mind at ease. If luck smiled on them, they might be able to establish a subspace link early enough in the evening that Julian and Ezri could exchange good nights before retiring for the day.