Breaking (And Entering) 2: Electric Boogaloo
“Can we really grab the Obama, just by ourselves?” Grace asked, getting excited as the Vulcan pulled out his tools. “Can we do it?”
“Yes, we can,”
Rebel Storvik replied. Or, at least, I can, he thought. “The first problem is opening the airlock,” he explained to the human female as he began. “Since the station computer is unaware that a vessel is docked here, safety and security protocols will prevent us from opening the airlock. Fortunately, I have … some experience circumventing Terok Nor's safety and security protocols.”
“I'll bet,” she giggled. There was obviously more to this Vulcan than met the eye. She wondered if she should ask Travis later what he know about Storvik. “Storvik,” she began, and then interrupted herself. “That's kind of an ugly name if you don't mind my saying. Can I call you ‘Vicky’?”
“Obviously you can,” he responded, removing a panel from the airlock controls. “But that does not mean that you should…”
Some time later, after the airlock door had surrendered to the Vulcan's ministrations and opened, the hatch of the Obama continued to resist. Grace assisted Storvik by holding his tools, consulting his PADD for information, and running diagnostics. He was careful to thank her for her help, to keep her feeling happy and useful; and he was also careful to specify exactly where she should stand while he was working. The more that she called him “Vicky,” the more that he pondered her usefulness as a human shield against traps. Thus far, however, all of the obstacles had been passive - locks that worked to keep him out, but did not threaten him; doorway mechanisms that should function, but failed to do so; and, worst of all, some device inside the shuttle was playing some form of appalling music at a loud volume. The obvious lack of taste and talent evident in the music was troublesome enough; but the volume made it impossible for the Vulcan to hear the slightest sounds of the mechanisms he worked on, even with an old-fashioned stethoscope. He wondered if the “music” was part of the shuttle's defensive mechanisms, or if it was an example of the other universe's culture which the Obama's crew actually enjoyed listening to. For the first time, Storvik pondered how much adjustment would be necessary to live in an entirely new and different universe. Anything is worth is to get out of this one.
“It's been hours and we still haven't heard from my uncle,” Grace complained as another attempt to open the hatch failed. “Should I comm him, Vicky?”
“He is most likely occupied, and/or still in the presence of ‘Mad Maddie’,” Storvik replied. “Drawing attention to ourselves, particularly via a comm signal which can be traced to identify our current location, is contraindicated.”
“Contra-?”
“No.” The Vulcan wiped some sweat from his forehead, before it reached his eyes and affected the clarity of his vision. “ That device that the other Spiegel was carrying,” he thought aloud. “Perhaps it was … some sort of key? It definitely appeared as if it generated some form of energy, and had a mechanism at one end for transmitting and focusing that energy…” He turned to Grace again. “Run another diagnostic, to see if you can determine upon which frequencies this vessel's passive scanners are currently set to receive.”
She did, and responded, “They appear to be scanning the range of frequencies audible to humanoid hearing.”
“That is … odd,” he replied, “since the cacophony inside would mask or drown out the frequencies. Unless…” The Vulcan grabbed the pad and wrote a quick program. “Unless the loud noises are a distraction, and it's actually awaiting an ultrasonic signal of some sort. That tool the Spiegel-analog held must have been some form of a sonic device.” The PADD started broadcasting oscillating ultrasonic frequencies, while scanning the Obama's passive sensors for any response. Any time the runabout appeared to react in a minute fashion, the PADD modified the signal accordingly. This process took over an hour, during which the hijackers-to-be took a much-needed break to stretch their limbs and consume some food and drink. And then … the hatch opened.
“Wow! We did it!” Grace exclaimed, jumping up and giving the Vulcan a hug.
“Would you like the honors?” he asked, indicating the open door. “After you…”