[USS Charon, Deck Three]
The hologram flexed its fingers, holding them stiffly as if they were talons, weapons looking for a target. She liked displaying emotion, liked creating an emotional link with other beings. As distant as she was from them, she often wanted to create some sort of link. Even when that link was anger. Red-hot, seething, boiling anger, the kind that drove people to madness. The digital world churned beneath Savants' wide tread. The only display of this was in that flex of the hands and a frown on the hologram's face.
"Of course, Commander. I'm glad to have your help. I'll keep this quiet and leave you to your business as I attend mine." The latter words hung ominously in the air.
The young Vulcan nodded, at last breaking her unusually still posture, and moved towards her desk, where the still active screen provided the only illumination besides the floating avatar. Under different circumstances, Sakarra would have loved to appreciate the complexity of Savant and ponder the philosophical question of why she had chosen this particular hologram to interact with biological lifeforms. But there were more pressing matters, and she pushed aside another brief instant of deeply rooted ire reserved for those who had created this situation.
If there was one thing she had learned at T'Shen, it was that one always tended to the injured first, saw to mending what could be mended even if the injury would require a healer much more skilled than one self. And if no other was there to help, you did what you could.
Sakarra's fingers flew over the console with astonishing speed, asking for and receiving access, and like a predator honing in on a familiar scent, she found a trail.
"There."
She addressed the code on her screen rather than the avatar at this point, noticing how suddenly activity around the area she had pointed out with a carefully laid pathway increased by an ever mounting margin. The program appeared to almost be tearing itself apart, rending the code to dysfunctional tatters, bits of alphanumeric garbage, holding little regard for the contents - some sort of panic-fueled frenzy of self destruction.
Still, this looked like it would be difficult to undo. At least without causing further damage to Savant or leave gaping holes in her memory. Fervently hoping that the AI would be able to heal herself – after all, who would know this being that was many and one all at once better – she still decided to obtain whatever she could to make it easier. The proverbial band aid, if nothing else.
The prospect of making T'Pelar undo her own work with the threat of bodily harm if she declined held an unsettling amount of … attraction.
Savant, the avatar, appeared unmoved as the program continued its self-immolation. "I would very much like to know the specifications of the software used in this attack," it commented politely. "You seem very familiar in its function."
"Very… no." But familiar enough. Enough to remember and to know precisely what questions to ask. If they had been within hailing range of Vulcan, Sakarra just might have made some calls at this point. She certainly planned to do so when the opportunity presented itself. And if the answers would not prove satisfactory…
But there were other things to be done yet. Other lives injured or threatened to be.
Fingers steepled under her chin, the young Vulcan gazed back up at the avatar "They are looking for neutrino particles and expect you to alert them when sensors detect those. How do you believe they would react if you showed them enough to indicate a wormhole that might admit a ship's passage?"
The program had at this point slowed in its shark's frenzy, having shredded the infected nodes to ribbons - now came the prolonged period of repairing the damage done. It pondered a few moments before replying.
"Wormholes indicate the presence of a highly powerful antigravity projection device, or the presence of exotic matter to precise specification. They would likely react with alarm, or were they expecting the event as they likely are, they would be pleased to find it."
"Precisely."
Sakarra exhaled slowly and her dark eyes suddenly held a strange, silent flame. "Pleased enough to visit stellar cartography even at this hour if the program who knows nothing of their schemes and must be prevented from finding out delivers such exciting news. If you could… simulate the possible existence of such a wormhole at the outmost reach of our sensors, as close as possible to the Stellar Nursery, do you believe you might be able to .. arouse their curiosity enough so they would leave their quarters for…" yes, for what? Sakarra was not sure how Savant might react to what she had planned. But the AI had trusted her this far, for which she was immensely grateful, now she would have to repay the courtesy.
" .. for me to take advantage of their absence."
"Quite easily, Commander," Savant replied, holding up a hand. From her palm sprang a hologram showing the nebular in toto, with a small cluster of proto-stars highlighted with a blue band about them. They glimmered like tiny diamonds awash in green-gold mist. "The Alpha Natalis Proxima cluster should prove ideal to our purposes. Interference is heavy enough to require an in-depth investigation from anyone curious about the nature of any burst, and the chaos of stellar formation should provide enough noise to mask any evidence of foul play."
She didn't smile, but it was apparent by how fluidly the hologram conjured up a solution that Savant wanted blood for blood. Beneath the placid exterior the swarm shrieked. Not so different from the Vulcan across from her.
"I am prepared to deliver the news on your signal, Commander. I suggest wearing heavy clothing and a head covering to avoid leaving any damaging evidence."
Sakarra nodded slowly at the AI's choice. Yes, it was ideal.
"Your suggestion is logical and appreciated, however I do not intend to conceal myself beyond the point of acquiring the evidence I seek. If you would please begin with the… diversion in precisely thirty standard minutes, that should provide me with sufficient time to proceed."
That left only a few more matters.
With calm efficiency, the young Vulcan canceled appointments and briefings, sent a brief note to the counselor that she would be unable to pick up the children tomorrow as agreed and submitted her finished reports.
She was about to shut off the screen, but hesitated. "Savant … if possible, would you relay to Lieutenant Warren, that …"
Her anger was briefly overshadowed by something else, recognizable only by a subtle change in breathing and a different timbre in the Vulcan's low, level voice. Then she slowly shook her head. Tell him what? I am sorry? Hardly sufficient. I have to do this and I need to keep you as far from the consequences as I can? Pointless. She hardly knew the consequences herself yet, though she could venture an educated guess. Still, she felt she owed Brent an explanation at least.
"No. Please disregard that. Twenty-eight point three minutes. A confirmation if and when T'Pelar has left her quarters would be appreciated. A one second activation of my comm badge should suffice, yes?"
Sakarra got out of the chair in one swift, fluid motion and shut down the screen, leaving Savant's avatar the only source of light in the silent room. It had been placid the whole time, and only when the Vulcan had left it alone did it reply. "I understand, Commander. I will deal with Mister Warren on your behalf."
And then the light winked out, and all was quiet.
[End Log]
The Semi-Autonomous Varied Algorithm Network Trainer (Savant)
Lt Cmdr Sakarra Tyrax
Chief Helm
USS Charon
