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Kobayashi Maru
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Текст книги "Kobayashi Maru"


Автор книги: Andy Mangels


Соавторы: Michael Martin
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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 25 страниц)

“Or they were trying to cover up the initial attacks.

Gardner shook his head. “If they wanted to cover this thing upif they didnt care about how their actions would be interpretedthen they probably would have destroyedyou as well.He held up a hand, palm facing the screen. “Enough, Captain. The formal message you are to deliver to QonoS has been transmitted toEnterprise via subspace radio already. It is now your duty to bring it before the High Council and present it.

“What about Columbia? Archer said, squaring his jaw while trying not to look defensive.

TwoDaedalus‑ class shipstheEssex and theArchon will arrive at Draylax within the next few hours. They will continue to assistColumbia with her repairs, and render assistance on Draylax as well.

Gardners look softened a bit as he leaned forward. “Archer, whether you want to believe it or not, I do listen to what you have to say,and weigh your concerns,and present your arguments tomy superiors. But you are just a part of this organization. So am I. Starfleet is bigger than either of us. And the Coalition of Planets isimmensely bigger, even though its only been around for a few months now. You have been on the edge of discovery, have encountered new civilizations and seen things that most humans would never dream of outside of fiction. I have no doubt that history will record great things about you. Probably a hell of a lot greater than whatever it might say about me eventually.

“But for now, you have your orders, and you will carry them out. Go to QonoS. Impress the High Council. Make certain that wedont go to war. And down the road, when and if the Romulan threat really does become more apparent, you will be able to use all the experience youve gained out there on the edge of the unknownas well as the strength of a more unified Coalitionto stand up to it.

Archer saw Gardner move his hand toward the switch on his desk as he prepared to end the transmission. “Good luck, Captain. And Godspeed.

The computer screen went black

With a roar, Archer smashed his fist into the screen, sending it tumbling off his desk in a short‑lived shower of sparks. It crashed into the wall before falling to the floor, where it lay broken and dead.

Archer knew it was a stupid, brutish gesture that TPol would have found appalling. Nevertheless, it made him feel better, at least for the moment. Still, he realized that the isolation and anger he felt now would be nothing compared to what he would experience when he entered the lions den on QonoS to deliver the Coalitions ultimatum.

When he faced thatchallenge, he would be utterly and terrifyingly alone.

TWENTY‑THREE

Monday, July 21, 2155 Qam‑Chee, the First City, QonoS

T HE OTHER TWO TIMESthat Jonathan Archer had visited the Klingon homeworld had taught him little about the civilization other than the fact that their architecture looked as foreboding and militaristic as nearly every Klingon he had ever encountered. He wondered if there was any room for nonmartial culture and beauty among these severe, warlike aliens. But although high art here seemed largely confined to the production of elaborate edged weapons, he knew there had to be more to the Klingon people than that; even the savage Hun tribes of ancient Earth werent complete strangers to art and culture. When discussing this very matter once with Trip, the engineer had said with his understated Southern humor, “Hell, even cannibals can make some beautiful bone necklaces.

Archer had left Enterpriseunder the watchful eyes of Lieutenant Donna ONeill. She didnt ask why he was not taking Commander TPol or Lieutenant Reed along, he noticed. By now, the missing shuttlepod had been noted, though Archer had yet to log the incident officially. D.O. wasnt stupid, nor were any of the other bridge personnel; they probably figured that Malcolm and TPol were off on some secret missionwhich, in truth, they were. Its just not a mission that anybody authorized,Archer thought glumly.

He had also decided to leave Phlox behind, given the threats Krell had made. It was better to know that the Denobulan was safe aboard Enterprisethan potentially imperiled on the surface of the Klingon homeworld. Archer had left a grateful Hoshi Sato at her post as well; a small, communicator‑sized translator unit clipped to his uniform jacket would ensure that he got his point across, and that he wouldnt misunderstand the Klingons when they made theirs. He hoped they wouldnt succumb to the temptation to communicate via their cutlery.

Which left Archer alone except for the two MACO troopers who had accompanied him, Corporals OMalley and Ryan, both of whom had been trained in multiple unarmed fighting techniques, including the Vulcan disciplines of Suus Mahnaand VShan. Even though all three humans had been disarmed immediately upon entering the outer foyer of the Klingon High Council citadel, Archer knew he could count on the two MACOs to give a good accounting of themselves if it came down to a fight.

They had not been able to offer much in the way of moral support during the interminable shuttlepod ride down from orbit, however. Archer knew he was on his own in the Great Hall, for better or worse. As the huge iron doors before him opened with a groan and a clang, Archer stepped into the expansive inner sanctum. This wasnt the same High Council Chamber he had visited on Enterprises first mission, during which he had returned an injured Klingon named Klaang to his homeworld. He was thankful as well that it was not the forbidding multilevel courtroom on Narendra III, where a Klingon magistrate had once sentenced him to a year mining dilithium in the frozen depths of the asteroid penal colony Rura Penthe.

Just because this place wasnt that hellish chamber of summary judgment, however, didnt make it any less intimidating, and Archer felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise like a phalanx of fighters adopting a defensive stance. Seated around the deeply shadowed, torch‑lit room in a semicircular, two‑level observers arena were some two dozen Klingonsall but one were malenone of whom looked particularly pleased to be present. At the apex of the semicircle sat the man whom Archer recognized as having thanked himthough Hoshi had implied it was more of a threatwhen he had returned Klaang to his people. The Klingon chancellors hair and beard had become even whiter than they had been four years ago, but the form underneath the august warrior‑leaders bulky leather and armor seemed as formidable now as it had then.

Archer stepped forward, holding out a data module in one open hand. “Chancellor MRek, honorable High Council members and warriors of the great Klingon Houses, I bring you an urgent message from the Coalition of Planets.

MRek gestured to one of his guards, who strode forward and snatched the data module from Archers hand. The soldier handed it to the chancellor, who held it out, then closed his hand around it, crushing it.

“Starfleet sent youto deliver the message, human, MRek said, his voice a low snarl. “It is only because you have aided the Empire in the past that you were not executed on arrival. Deliver the message yourself,and we shall see if your stay of execution merits an extension.

Having half expected such a response, Archer had already rehearsed his answer. He stepped forward, keeping his hands at his sides in a simultaneous show of defiance and submission; he hoped his body language wouldnt distract the Klingons from the importance of his words.

“Three days ago, three Klingon battle cruisers attacked the planet Draylax, crippling its defenses and causing thousands of casualties on that worlds surface. The aggressor ships did not respond to warnings from the Starfleet ship Columbia,or from my vessel, the Enterprise. They opened fire on ourships when we drew close enough for a confrontation. Our ships defeated two of the attackers, but the third was destroyed by a secondtrio of Klingon ships that arrived during the battle. These vessels did not engage either our ships or the colony. Afterward, Admiral Krell told me that the original three attacking Klingon ships were manned by rogue captains and crews.

“And your Coalition leaders do not believe his words? They think we are trying to incite war with them? MRek said, his voice rising in both pitch and volume.

“Not all of them do, Chancellor. But the Coalition Council is a democratic parliamentary body. Archer wasnt used to apologizing for democracy, but as hed learned over the last four years, human cultures and mores were not predominant in the galaxy.

Another older Klingon stood and shouted. “Draylax is not a member of your so‑called Coalition, is it?

“Not currently, no, Archer said, addressing him for a moment, before turning his gaze back to the chancellor. “However, Draylax is one of Earths allies, and is a signatory, along with Earth and Alpha Centauri, to a mutual defense pact. Draylax is therefore under Earths protection.

“Under Earths protection? another Klingon snarled. “Were you not barely able to begininterstellar travel only a few short years ago?

Archer ignored the mans hyperbolic comment, concentrating instead on addressing the High Councils leader. “Chancellor, the Coalition does notwish to jeopardize the relative peace this part of the galaxy has enjoyed for so long. But understand that some in the Coalition maychoose to authorize retaliationif the Klingon Empire initiates any further unprovoked attacks against

“You accusethe Empire? Do you think us a race of honorless taHqeq?MRek stood and stalked toward the captain. “If we were going to attack,you would know it from the screams of your dying, from the rivers of blood that would drown your cities, from the stench of charred and burning flesh.

He glowered, lowering his voice as he neared Archer. Archer could feel the tension in the MACOs flanking him, and was grateful that they were trained well enough to know to avoid making any overtly threatening gestures.

“What happened over Draylax was directed neither against that world nor yours, Captain, the chancellor said after his face came to a stop only a few centimeters away from Archers. “Apart from a few minor Klingon‑human skirmishesincluding those in which you and your crew were involved, Captainthe Empire has spilled no Teranganor Draylaxian blood. At least, not in sufficient quantities to merit a declaration of war.

Archer nodded, hoping that the sweat beading on his forehead wouldnt be visible in the firelight of the chamberand wishing that MReks most recent meal had been less aromatic. “I believe that, Chancellor, and have tried to convince my superiors of that. However, the Coalition Council requires He stopped himself for a moment, then quickly regrouped. “The Coalition Council requestsassurances that the Klingon Empire understands its warning that any further hostilities will be treated as cause for war. We also ask you to furnish objective proof that your government neither planned nor ordered the assault on Draylax.

“You request assurances?You require proof?MRek turned his back on Archer. He laughed loudly, as did most of the other Klingons in the room. “And what is it weare getting in return? Other than your Coalitions promise not to initiate a suicidal war with us?

“What is it you want?Archer asked, aware that he might regret that question more than anything he had said in this chamber so far. He recalled that on the day he had first seen a Klingon, the Vulcan ambassador Soval had warned him, “The last thing your people need is to make an enemy of the Klingon Empire.Those words of wisdom reverberated in his head now.

MRek turned back again to face him. “When our children are young, they learn to befriend the lowlier creatures of our world. Targs, qogh, qaHomthey play with them, sleep beside them, find allies in them. And when they attend to the Rite of Ascension, they learn that they must killthe animals that trusted them and feaston them. The animals are not Sajany longer, weaker creatures kept at our sufferance. They exist to be sacrificed. MRek smiled, showing his pointed teeth. “You are a Sajtoday, Captain Archer. You must decide whether your Coalition Council sent you here knowingyou would be sacrificedor whether your sacrifice is born of their stupidity.

“Any act against me ormy ship or crew will be considered an act of war as well, Chancellor, Archer said, trying not to imagine what was going to happen next. He was aware that the two MACOs with him were even now assessing every possible mode of attackas they more than likely had been doing from the moment the three of them had entered this chamber.

“You ask us for proof,Captain, MRek. “We have already given you every answer you will get without cost. Anything further you will have to earn through vItHaycombat against a warrior of my choosing. If you truly wish to avoid war with the Empire, youmay prove itby fighting for the truth.

MRek gestured to the back of the chamber with a flourish, and Archer saw a figure standing in the shadows behind the chancellor. “If you are not a craven bIHnuch,then you will cross blades with the very person you most accuse of being a taHqeq.

The man stepped forward, and Archer saw the swarthy skin, the braided goatee, and the smooth forehead.

Unless he backed downa choice he doubted was in any way a realistic possibilitythe warrior he was to face in a battle to the death was none other than Admiral Krell.

TWENTY‑FOUR

Romulan Scoutship Drolae

T HE ALREADY OVERSTRAINED ENGINESshrieked in protest at suddenly being thrown into full reverse. The half‑illuminated, blue‑green limb of a planet suddenly appeared in the formerly empty space directly in front of the slender sheet of transparent aluminum that protected the cramped crew compartment from the unforgiving vacuum of space.

“Damn! Trip shouted, momentarily forgetting to avoid using human idioms in the presence of Romulans. The planet that had suddenly appeared before him grew steadily and quickly until it filled the viewers field of vision almost completely. One moment he had been calmly studying the nav display on his copilots console; the next, an entire world threatened to fall directly on top of him like the mother of all rockslides.

“Terix, I know we need to sneak up on these people, Trip said, grateful for the flight harness that prevented his bucking seat from ejecting him like the Romulan equivalent of a cowboy taverns mechanical bull. “But did you really have to cut it thisclose?

Seated at the pilots console to Trips left, the centurion only laughed indulgently as he pulled back on his control yoke with one hand while entering attitude corrections with the other. If he was at all concerned about Trips outburst, he showed no outward sign.

“As you have already noted more than once, we must provide our quarry with as little advance warning as possible, the Romulan said. His words were punctuated by loud bounces and vibrations as the sturdy little ships belly slammed hard into the planets rarefied upper atmosphere.

Trip attempted to draw some comfort from the clear evidence hed just seen that human pilots had no monopoly on insanity. Before today, he had never brought a ship out of warp so close to the surface of a planet. Starfleet regulations strictly prohibited such stunts except in the direst of emergencies, presumably not only because they were hard on ships, but also because they could cause untold havoc planetside. The still‑burning surface of Coridan Prime stood as a mute testament to the wisdom of those flight regs. He breathed a silent prayer of thanks that the Romulan recon vessel had not only survived the punishing high‑warp voyage all the way from Cheron to Taugus more or less intact, but had also somehow resisted being torn to molecule‑sized pieces by the stress of Terixs brutally abrupt deceleration.

Now he feared that the reallydangerous part of this mission still lay ahead.

Terix quickly leveled out the Drolaes descent as he continued to bring her down. The propulsion system gradually quieted, though its din was replaced by the nearly deafening howl of the steadily thickening nimbus of ionized atmosphere that surrounded the friction‑superheated hulls ventral surfaces. Still trading velocity for heat as it plunged ever deeper into the atmosphere, the scoutship roared across the terminator, passing very quickly from impenetrable night into a cloud‑decked but brightly illuminated dayside.

The scout punched through the bottom of the cloud deck moments later; despite the deep band of haze beneath the clouds, the planets upper mesosphere evidently admitted more than enough light to allow Trip to see that what hed thought of only moments earlier as Taugus IIIs western limb had now become its sunward horizon.

Only about fifteen kilometers of intermittently turbulent atmosphere now separated the little vessels still‑glowing hull from the planets forbidding rocky surface.

“Do you have a fix yet on the dissidents camp, Cunaehr? Terix asked, the rest of his attention completely absorbed by his buckboard‑style piloting.

Trip had already been fully engaged in trying to pinpoint their target before the centurion had asked the question. “The passive scans are giving me some ambiguous results. Im not sure its a good idea to risk tipping these people off by putting the sensors into active mode, though.

Terix nodded. “I agree. Im locking in on TLuadhs preprogrammed coordinates to make our approach. Can you handle the sensor controls?

“I think so, Trip said, though he was wary of rousing Terixs suspicions by appearing to be toofamiliar with Romulan military hardware.

“Good, said the centurion. “Continue making passive scans. Be on the lookout for any heavy concentrations of refined metals.

Trip nodded, working his console and keeping a weather eye on the passive sensors displays as the scoutship continued its rolling, bumping descent. He felt grateful that he wasnt prone to motion sickness.

An orange light flashed, followed by a column of numbers in Romulan script. Trip paused the figures and read them over twice to make absolutely sure he wasnt simply misinterpreting the alien characters to which he was still trying to become accustomed.

“This doesnt make a damned bit of sense, he murmured.

“Youve found something? Terix asked, still preoccupied with keeping the bouncing Drolaenearly level and more or less stable.

“I picked up a strong signature of paesinaehhrr,Trip said, using the Romulan word for duranium.

“Was it located at the preprogrammed coordinates?

Trip shrugged. “Im not sure. Its gone now, and the sensors werent in contact with it long enough to localize it. In fact His voice trailed off as he ran through one of the columns of figures yet again.

“Yes? Terix said, sounding somewhat irritated.

Trip looked up from his console and faced the centurion. “It might have been a reflection from an object in a low orbit around the planet.

“Another ship? Terix ventured, raising an eyebrow as he continued making his rapid approach to the surface. “An Ejhoi Ormiinvessel preparing to attack?

Spreading his hands in frustration, Trip said, “This planet has a pretty electrically active ionosphere. Maybe it was only a reflection from the surface, or a sensor ghost. Or maybe it was an orbiting surveillance drone set up by our friends down on the surface,Trip thought. An alarm system thats designed to give them just enough time to roll the welcome mat out for usand to be just small enough for us to miss on our way in.

Another light flashed on the sensor console. “There, Trip said, pointing. “Now Im getting a definitivereading of refined metals. Right at the spot where TLuadh said wed find our, ah, friends hiding out.

Terix nodded with a grunt. “Ill set us down in the rough country, there, he said, pointing at a tactical schematic displayed on one of the console readouts located conveniently between the pilot and copilot stations. “Our landing site will be only two, perhaps three matdrihfrom the dissident compound.

Thats maybe three, four klicks, tops,Trip thought after performing a quick numeric conversion in his head. Fortunately, neither the atmospheric composition nor the temperature would require either man to be burdened with heavy environmental gear during the hike to the dissident enclave. Hand‑to‑hand combat in pressure suits could be damned inconvenient.

Terix set the Drolaedown with surprising gentleness, and Trip was delighted to note that death had not begun to rain down upon them from their nearby target, or from whatever had created the orbiting ghost the sensors had thought theyd seen.

Not yet, at least.

“Can you handle a hand disruptor, Cunaehr? the centurion said as he unstrapped himself from his seat and moved immediately aft toward the weapons locker.

“I did a bit of hobby shooting back at the university, Trip said as he undid his own flight harness and followed Terix into the rear of the ship. After watching the centurion open the locker and arm himself, Trip silently accepted the heavy silver pistol that Terix handed him.

“This is the dangerous end, right? Trip said, pointing at the weapons tapered, hand‑length barrel.

Terix only scowled, then checked and holstered his own weapon before handing Trip an empty holster belt.

Again, no stun setting,Trip thought as he gave the weapon a quick once‑over, making certain that the safety was on. He hoped to hell he wouldnt have to fire one of these things in combat again anytime soon, though he knew that was probably far too much to hope for. After all, they were about to raid the stronghold of a cold‑blooded killer who had already proved he had no compunctions about killing.

Strapping on the holster belt, Trip thought, Lets hope my old friend Sopek is getting careless in his old age and left a window open for us.

TWENTY‑FIVE

Shuttlepod Two

S O FAR AS M ALCOLM R EED KNEW, the name of the aquamarine planet that turned slowly several hundred klicks below the shuttlepod had never been recorded on any Earth star chart. In fact, it was one of the farthest‑flung worlds that human eyes had ever beheld.

But if Commander TPol was right, another human may already have preceded him to this remote place.

“How can you be so certain well find Commander Tucker here? Reed said.

TPol raised an eyebrow as she regarded him with that damnably cool Vulcan assuredness of hers. “My intelligence sources have always proved reliable in the past, Lieutenant.

“Ill grant you that the Vulcan transport vessel you got us docked with did a damned fine job of sneaking us past those Romulan patrols at Alpha Fornacis, Reed said. Not to mention not reporting our whereabouts to Starfleet,he added silently. It was obvious that the ship in question had been up to something other than the banal tasks of moving passengers and cargo in order to operate with impunitysometimes at speeds in excess of warp factor sixmore than half a parsec inside territory claimed by the Romulan Star Empire.

He still felt annoyed at having been confined to the shuttlepod for most of their three‑day voyage, deprived of even the laconic company of TPol, who had been allowed at least partial access to the transport vessel that had carried Shuttlepod Two so close to its destination. But even the usually stoic TPol had complained about how little access she had been given to the all but invisible Vulcan benefactor whom her VShar contacts had persuaded to grant them covert passage into Romulan space. The Vulcans seemed quite intent on keeping a tight lid on whatever they were really up to so deep within the Romulan sphere of interest. This cloak of secrecy made Reed very nervous about whatever it was that the new, purportedly more transparent TPau regime on Vulcan might want to keep hidden from its Coalition partners. And those worries werent so much for his own safety, or even that of TPol, but for that of Trip. A second Coalition‑based spy bureau blundering about here among the Romulans could well put Trips mission and life in jeopardy without meaning to do so or even noticing the damage theyd done.

Of course, he was uncomfortably aware that the very same accusation could well be leveled at both himself and TPol.

Putting those matters aside for the moment, Reed continued his conversation with TPol: “But the only confirmation we have that we might find Trip here, as opposed to any of a dozen other systems, comes from yourvisions.

“I do not have visions,Lieutenant, TPol said, her equanimity apparently shaken but little by Reeds almost accusatory point. “But I remain convinced that I have achieved at least an intermittent telepathic link with Trip She paused, apparently catching herself in the act of revealing more than she preferred to reveal. “With Commander Tucker. There is ample precedent for such things, Mister Reed. The Aenar of Andoria, for example.

Reed still didnt feel sufficiently convinced to be able to stop himself from subjecting TPols reasoning to another round of verbal destruction testing. “The Aenar are verystrong telepaths, Commander. I thought the esper ability was restricted to touch in Vulcans.

“That is certainly true for the vast majority of us, she said, reiterating a point she had made not long ago to Captain Archer and Doctor Phlox. “However, there have been exceptions. I have become convinced that the link Commander Tucker and I share represents just such an exception.

Knowing what he did about the neurological effects of the trellium‑D to which TPol had once been addicted, Reed felt a good deal less sanguine than she apparently did about trusting her subjective feelings of certainty.

“Please forgive me for saying this, Commander, he said very gently. “But I think youre putting a great deal of faith in what might turn out to be nothing more than a dream. Or even some residual effect of trellium‑D exposure,he thought, recalling TPols recovery from an addiction to the neurologically toxic mineral.

She said nothing as she stared straight ahead at the planet.

“It just doesnt seem very scientific to me, he said, uncomfortable with the spreading silence.

Seeming to balance her words very delicately on a bulwark of nettles and brambles, she said, “I am a Vulcan, Lieutenant. And Vulcans do not pursue mere dreams across parsecs of interstellar space.

Never underestimate the power of dreams,he thought. Or nightmares.

“Dreams. Visions. Gut hunches. Call them whatever you like, Commander, he said with a shrug. “I just have to ask whether its entirely logicalfor you to place so much trust in a phenomenon that neither of us can really look at objectively.

To her credit, the only sign of emotion she allowed herself to display was an inquisitive tip of the head as she turned to face him again. “If you truly harbor so many doubts about what were doing out here, then why did you insist on coming along?

Now that is a damned fine question,he thought; he had asked himself the very same thing more than a few times since she had first asked it just before they had absconded with Shuttlepod Two. In light of all the subspace chatter theyd subsequently picked up concerning the Klingon‑Draylaxian conflict that had broken out since theyd left Enterprise,Reed could only hope that their current quest wouldnt prove to be as barmy as it might now look to Captain Archer or the rest of his crew.

“I already told you, Commander, he said at length. “We both want to rescue Trip if hes really in as much trouble as you say he is. Besides, I couldnt just let you go off on your own.

The eyebrow rose again. “Even if this entire endeavor ultimately turns out to bewhat is the phrase you humans use?a wild goose chase?

He smiled gently. “ Especiallythen.

After a pause, TPol said, “I am placing a great deal of faith in you as well, Lieutenant. Specifically in your discretion.

“I thought I already proved how discreet I can be when I didnt rat you out to Captain Archer, Reed said.

“Of course, Mister Reed. But that action only required confidence on a relatively small scale. In allowing you to accompany me on this mission, you are almost certain to discover one of my peoples most closely guarded secrets. And that knowledge will require a much larger degree of discretion.

Reed found it difficult to imagine the nature of any secret the Vulcans might be so intent upon protecting. Nevertheless, he shrugged and said, “I used to work for a bureau whose stock in trade was secrets. I think you can rely on me to keep mum when it counts.

A flashing light on the pilots console interrupted whatever she had been about to say in response. In that same instant, the shuttlepod shook violently before settling back to normal perhaps a second or two later.

“What the hell was that?Reed said as he consulted several conflicting sets of readouts that were vying for his attention across the copilots console.

“We appear to have encountered an intense warp bow shock, TPol said as her long fingers moved across her instruments with almost preternatural speed. “The phenomenon is very similar to a starships subspace wake.

Reeds own subspace field monitor confirmed TPols observation a moment later. “That must mean we have company here, he said. Though he had yet to locate any other vessel, either by eye or by sensors, his readings had revealed that the already fading subspace concussion fit a particular profile: that of a ship that had suddenly collapsed its warp field bubble, thereby dropping almost instantaneously from high warp speed back to the Einstein‑mandated sublight velocities of normal space.

Whoevers behind the wheel on that ship has got to be barking mad,Reed thought, to perform a maneuver like that so close to a planet.

“I still cannot pinpoint the other ships precise location or heading using only passive scans, TPol said.

“Maybe the planets gravity well tore her apart as she decelerated, Reed ventured.

She shook her head. “If that had occurred, then I should be able to detect solid and gaseous debris and hard radiation. Switching to active sensor mode and scanning.


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