YEAR OF
THE TITAN
A Star
Trek: The Next Generation Fan-Fiction Story
By Imzadi Round Robin
Chapter 1
By Opal
Romulus
Stardate 56936.7 - December 2379
"I have fought beside
the Federation ship Enterprise. I have walked her decks and shared a
glass of ale with the legendary Jean-Luc Picard. We watched our doctors work
together to save members of his crew. Romulan hands working in harmony with
Terran, coaxing life forth when it was fleeting. Romulan and Terran, Empire and
Federation, standing together helpless as death took her warriors to Vorta Vor.
I have looked into the eyes of the Federation and beheld my own dreams. I have
walked through the dying and sensed my own fears.
"Shinzon preyed on our
fears. He turned our strengths against us. Romulus has always been strong, her
people brave and her armies built for conquest. But what is conquest now?
Within our borders we grow restless. We have no new territory to explore, no
new worlds to bring within the reign of the Empire. Shinzon looked outward and
saw weakness in the Federation. He looked out and saw new lands to conquer.
"When I look outward I
see strength. The same strength in the blood of our veins is mirrored in the
Federation. Whether green or red, we both die as it spills from our wounds.
Whether Romulan or Terran, we must change as the universe changes. We must grow
within ourselves instead of constantly growing outward. What frontier is more
new to our people than peace? What land more untried, what battle less fought,
than peace?
"In war we find death.
We grow through destruction, we piece together the remains of our spoils and
look again desperately for new grounds. We can have the entire Federation as
new territory and we will! Not as a conquered people slaving beneath the boot
of the Empire, but as allies, as compatriots, even as friends!"
Her speech had been
repeated over and over on every Romulan news screen. It filled the streets and
the people leapt in joy to embrace the new Praetor's philosophies. That
weakness made Tal'aura sick. If she had been Praetor there would be no talk of
peace. Now weakness was slowly eating away at the Romulan people like a plague
and she had no chance to save them from their own childish dreams of peace.
Even now, celebration rang
through the streets of Romulus. The people had long been weary of the war and
bloody governments who promised everything would be different, yet yielded
nothing. The people were hungry for leadership. With the Senate dead and
Shinzon, the vengeful Reman dictator of the darkness, also dead, the way to
power was ripe for anyone who would seize it. It should have been a proud time
to be a Romulan politician with ambition.
It should have been a
blessed time to be a Romulan with ambition. The greatest seat of the government
was open to someone with the credentials to claim it, but the Romulan people
had been tricked. Empress Siraliv had sold her own people to the Federation and
they were going with cheers of joy. Instead of warriors, they would be
diplomats and pacifists. Instead of bloodshed they would embrace talk and
negotiation. What life was that for a child of the Empire?
Former Senator Tal'aura
left the balcony in disgust. Inside her private apartment the words of the
crowd were dulled into obscurity but the fevered joy in their voices carried
through the ancient walls of stone. She had never expected the brave Romulan
people to fall for Donatra's pacific rhetoric. The Praetor-elect's inauguration
speech was already becoming legendary.
Tal'aura was not the
Empress' chosen one. She had been officially pardoned for her actions during
the coup d'état, bringing an end to her career. The pardon had sealed her
forever into obscurity. The Tal-Shiar had seen to that.
Tal'aura bared neat white
teeth as she thought of her own farewell speech. It had been eloquent but
brief, and barely memorable. The Tal-Shiar's puppet of a hologram had seen to that.
They had made her wishes abundantly clear in their mockery. She wanted a simple
life now, one with less prestige. The final touch had been when her image
praised the Federation's y'kilht! The whore whose name echoed through
the very core of Romulus.
"Donatra," she
hissed through the growing din outside. Donatra would be Praetor and she would
lead the people as promised. Though weak, she was a woman of honor and honor
would demand no less. The Romulan people were doomed to live life as sheep in
the great Federation. Donatra, for all her love of peace, had failed to see the
Federation for what it truly was. It was a conqueror as insidious as any had
ever been, but it wrote its own rules for conquest. Instead of coming with
weapons drawn and energy raining down from the heavens as people screamed in
terror, it came with empty palms outstretched in friendship. When the
Federation came for you, you went willingly.
A cold shiver went up her
spine at the very notion.
* * * * *
Epsilon Indi Shipyards
Stardate 57253.6 - April 2380
Captain William T. Riker
rested his hands on the rail and stared lovingly through the starbase window.
Hanging there like a jewel in space was his ship, his future cast in duranium
and fitted with nacelles. She was beautiful. Though smaller than the Enterprise-E,
the Akira-class Titan was compact and graceful within her lines. Her
nacelles were closer to the saucer section, held slightly above instead of
swept back like the Enterprise's. Her saucer was small but powerful,
much like Riker's wife. He smiled like a boy of ten instead of the mature and
seasoned Starfleet officer he was. In a few short hours he would be embarking
on his own adventures with his own crew, his Imzadi by his side.
Riker couldn't think of
anywhere in the galaxy he'd rather be. This was his time. His life was finally
together, a bit later than he might have originally planned, but Deanna and the
Titan were certainly worth the wait.
All the stars around Andor
hung patiently in space waiting for the Titan's debut. Her first flight,
the first flight of Captain Riker. He shivered in anticipation.
"I really don't think
she's going anywhere, sir. Once a woman like that gets her hooks into you she
really doesn't let you go." Hugh McCoy, the dashing young Operations officer
rested his hands on the rail next to his captain and joined him in watching the
ship. "She almost makes me wish I was bound for command."
Riker turned his head to
catch the other man's laughing blue eyes. "Almost, but not quite?"
Hugh's brown hair moved
slightly as he shook his head. "All the freedom in the galaxy and all the
responsibility to go along with it can suck the fun right out. Oh no sir,
that's not for me."
Will ran a hand through his
beard and felt the stiffness of grey. "I was going to beat Kirk's record.
It was all I thought about when I was young." He traced the lines of the Titan
again in his mind, seeing every phaser bank and shield emitter. "I was
going to be the youngest captain Starfleet had ever seen."
Hugh knew the story. He had
heard if from the captain's formidable mother-in-law, but he waited, smiling,
for the inevitable conclusion.
"My life had other
plans and I'm thankful every morning I wake up next to her that it did."
Hugh chuckled dryly in the
back of his throat and after a moment Will joined him. "Life's really
worthless if it can't surprise you now and then."
"Too true, Mr. McCoy,
too true." Will turned his head away from the Titan, "What
work have you brought me?"
"Commander Holman sent
me to ask if you wanted to inspect the tractor beam before it was installed,
Captain." McCoy's expression remained jovial as Will winced.
"Commander Holman
seems to have nothing better to do than inspect things. Ask my first officer to
do it."
This time it was Hugh's
turn to wince. "I would, sir, but she said if she saw me again with one of
Holman's absurd 'requests' she would have me assigned to the Legaran Diplomatic
Corps."
"Legar? The sulfuric
gas giant?" Will asked with a raised eyebrow. "I didn't know we had a
Diplomatic Corps there."
"I'm fairly certain we
don't, sir," Hugh replied with a sigh. "Perhaps you can explain to
Commander Holman that we trust his judgment in such matters."
Will started walking toward
the Command Center. "He will probably then inform me that my lack of
concern for matters I deem trivial will by my undoing. That I'm lucky to have
him building my ship when I show such a lack of concern for it."
The two men paused before
the double-doors to the Command Center and steeled themselves. "I believe
there is a reason men like Holman work in construction yards," McCoy
volunteered quietly, "Metal can't be offended."
"If only we were so
lucky," Will dead-panned as he reached for the entry control.
* * * * *
On Starbase Epsilon, Lieutenant
Scott and Ensign Ferris were at the head of a large group of junior crewmembers
and a handful of civilians. They were all waiting, but unlike the crew and
civilians who could wander freely through the Market Commons housed in this
large open deck, both officers had duties.
Ensign Joslynn Ferris
gritted her teeth and again tried to explain where the crates of scientific
equipment were going once they reached the Titan, "Deck seven.
Se-ven, Science Labs." Blue-skinned Andorian technicians scurried around
her and into the umbilical connection without speaking.
"You'd have better
luck if you were just a bit more patient with them," Lieutenant Caitlyn
Scott pointed out gently as she directed the crew with the medical supplies to
deck five. "They do speak Standard."
Joslynn kicked one of the
offending crates with a free foot. "But they don't speak, they just stare
at us like we're some kind of freaks because we aren't blue and we don't have
those dangly things on our heads." Pausing, she sighed, "Why does
Starfleet even build ships here?"
Caitlyn smiled patiently as
she tossed her tight braid back over her shoulder. "Because the Andorians
are one of the founding races of the Federation, even if they have dangly
things on their heads." She turned to the next group of technicians,
"Deck eleven, please."
In contrast to Caitlyn's
neatness, Jos' golden-brown hair was tumbling all over in loose waves as she
shook her head in frustration. "If they're one of the oldest races in the
Federation they should speak Standard. They helped invent it, dammit."
Caitlyn giggled and leaned against the wall as she watched Joslynn direct yet
another group. "Deck twelve. One-two, shouldn't be too hard to find."
Grumbling, Joslynn dropped to the wall next to Caitlyn, "How many more
groups?"
The science officer lifted
her PADD and sighed, "Thirty-four."
"Dammit!" Jos
cried again as she stood up and started pacing. "I know why you're stuck
down here, but why am I?"
"I don't think the
pilot is all that necessary when we're in spacedock," Caitlyn replied
calmly, "Besides, the captain was sick of you fighting with McCoy in
Command."
The beautiful pilot shook a
finger threateningly at the smaller woman. "Don't even start if you know
what's good for you."
"I think he's
sweet," the lieutenant offered with a slight blush.
Ferris' brown eyes glinted.
"Oh you would, wouldn't you? I think I'm the only person on board immune
to his charms."
Caitlyn couldn't help
giggling again. "You make him sound like a disease."
Forcibly shoving her hair
out of her face, Joslynn nodded quickly, "I think that's exactly what men
like that are. A smiling, perfect plague."
* * * * *
Commander Deanna Troi sat
in the captain's chair on the Titan's Bridge and wrapped her fingers
around the edge of the armrests. Through the newly-functioning viewscreen she
could watch the spinning brownish-gold surface of Andor and the ribs of the
shipyard that held the Titan in place. Around her, a few members of
Will's crew, her crew, flitted about with various tasks, making ready for the
launch which was only a few hours away. A large cat, standing on his hind legs
with his tail dancing behind him impatiently, stopped in front of her and stood
at attention.
"Lieutenant Commander
Ibric reports that he is about to bring the warp core online."
Sharpclaw-to-Ennien, a Sivaoan, flexed his claws. He didn't mind the reports,
but he wanted to be free in space instead of trapped in orbit with a cage
around the ship. "Security is also ready. Medical is transferring the last
of the sensitive biomedical gels from the planet, Ensign Cartwright is still
waiting for her final calibration of the Astrometrics sensors and Chief Yavan
reports that he awaits your command to start beaming the crew aboard." He
flicked his tongue over his canines in disgust, "Venuri is also ready to
depart."
"You seem annoyed,
Sharpclaw," Deanna smiled at him. Annoyed was an understatement; his
silver-grey fur was even bristling slightly.
"No, sir." He
growled softly at his error, shaking his whiskers, "I mean yes, sir. But
it will not interfere with my duties, sir." He started to stalk away but
turned back, his tail tip twitching anxiously. "Permission to speak
freely, sir?"
Deanna leaned back into
Will's command chair, feeling the responsibility of the position ooze into her.
"Of course, Lieutenant."
"I know many
crewmembers are concerned about relations between the bartender and I, but I
can assure you that there will not be any problems that effect either of us
professionally. It was simply a misunderstanding." His fur still bristled
but she could feel the amount of control he was pouring into his gravelly
voice.
Deanna rested her chin on a
hand and tried not to beam at him. "I have no fear of either of you
shirking on your duties. Please carry on."
Sharpclaw nodded curtly and
returned to his Tactical station all the while muttering about the insanity of
bringing an overgrown bird into space.
* * * * *
Chief Xander Yavan rested
his elbows lazily on the transporter console in front of him and stared at his
bored reflection in the smooth surface. He toyed with his black hair restlessly
and sighed. He already had the coordinates of the remaining senior staff
plugged in and had just informed Sharpclaw that he was ready to go whenever the
Bridge was.
The Bridge, however, was
not ready to depart. Whatever Commander Troi was doing, she wasn't ready for
the remainder of the crew. Xander sighed heavily again. He was about to contact
the Bridge to ask why the transport was being delayed when his console chirped
with a message from the surface. A group of technicians was ready to beam
aboard.
"Finally! Something to
do," Xander said aloud as his fingers flew flawlessly over the transporter
controls. The Betazoid had an almost instinctual bond with his console. The
shimmering began with a whine and ended with four Andorian engineers, dressed
in the familiar dull grey uniform of the Epsilon Indi Shipyard, materializing
on the pad. A large crate sat in the middle of the group and the rear pair of
technicians moved to lift it as the forward pair advanced toward Yavan.
The chief let his mind
brush easily across theirs and was almost overcome by the excitement they
radiated. The female technician kept advancing, smiling coolly. "You have
fascinating eyes for a human. So deep, so black ... so full of
intelligence."
Xander pried into her mind
with nervous curiosity. He suddenly gulped in horror and backed away from her.
Still smiling, she
continued onward, resting her hand lightly on his chest. "Far too black to
be human, aren't they?" Her fingers closed hard around the officer's right
wrist as his hand flew to his combadge. "I felt you touch my mind. Do you
know what we do to telepaths on my homeworld?"
Something hard and heavy
smacked into the back of Yavan's head. The transporter chief sank unconscious
to the floor. The female Andorian quickly took control of his console. Two of
her cohorts, carrying the heavy case, left through the large doors of the room
while the remaining male wrestled the unconscious body into a rear corner.
"Seal it off. We can't
risk anyone finding him."
She nodded, tapping the
controls with nimble blue fingers. "I'm informing the Bridge that the
transporters need an immediate maintenance cycle." The Bridge would simply
think that Yavan was being overzealous.
The male stood, smiling
with icy eyes. "Good. Stay here and make them think the Betazoid is still
awake." He fingered a green hypospray in his pocket, "Wait for the
signal."
The female nodded again as
he disappeared through the doors, leaving her to wait.
* * * * *
Ibric Lyda was bored, so
bored that her nose ridges itched. She had been waiting in the large Market
Commons on Epsilon Starbase for the last two hours with the rest of the junior
officers and civilians. Way down at the end of the huge open area she could
barely make out Joslynn at the Titan's umbilical connection. She could
go talk to her, but Joslynn was working and then they'd both be in trouble.
Lyda was just supposed to sit there and wait until Jos finished whatever she was
doing and came to get her, but she had been waiting such a long time.
Having already completely
finished the outline for her next holoprogram, Lyda leaned back into the bench
her father had left her on. She would have rather waited in her quarters with
her toys and the lovely new stuff she had purchased with Joslynn, but some
stuffy commander wasn't letting civilians on the ship yet. Here she was
surrounded by so many glorious things and not allowed to even look at them, let
alone buy them. Why was her life so unfair?
Crossing her arms and
pouting for a moment, she suddenly remembered her allowance in her pocket.
Though it wouldn't go all that far, it was enough to justify looking through
some of the shops. Lyda jumped off the bench and started to look at the
boutiques with new eyes. She could justify buying something small. After all,
her dad had left her for far longer than he said he would.
The girl ducked away from
the waiting area filled with Titan crewmembers and slipped easily into
the crowd of Andorian shoppers. Everyone was looking for something or at
something and no one paid any real attention to the 11-year-old Bajoran
wandering among them. Lyda passed the fruit and vegetable stands and the tea
sellers. They were boring and she wasn't hungry. Finally, she spotted something
good up ahead on her left. A clothing shop was hung with ribbons of every color
and she had to go in.
An elderly, stooped
Andorian woman smiled at her gently when she entered. "Hello iari.
Can I help you?"
Lyda looked at her shyly,
but had been raised well enough to know that she needed to reply. "I'm
just looking. My ship isn't leaving for awhile yet."
The ancient woman nodded,
her wispy white hair fluttering around her head. "Look all you like, iari.
Ask if you have any questions. You are not often so far from home as
Fesoa."
Lyda came closer to the
counter and gave the woman a confused look. "I thought the planet was
called Andor."
The storekeeper's laughter
sounded like dead leaves falling. "Many years ago it was called Fesoa.
It's an ancient name, much like your Celestial Temple." She waved a
withered blue hand at the youngster and gestured her still closer. "I
think you might like these. They are pretty enough to hold your
attention." She pointed to a display in the corner of the store filled
with diaphanous fabrics and ribbons, "My fantasy wares, if you will."
Lyda's hands immediately
went in to a bin full of silks. "They're beautiful!" Nodding
politely, the storekeeper turned to leave. Throwing a purple silk over her
shoulder like a cape, Lyda ran after her. "Wait, please. Tell me how you
knew about the Celestial Temple."
Her old hand rested
insubstantially on the young Bajoran's shoulder. "Once, when I was a very
little girl, I met a man almost as old as I am now and he told me stories of a
glorious temple in the stars near his home planet. It was such a beautiful
story that I remembered it to this day and your nose," she tapped the
girl's ridges with a bent finger, "reminded me of him."
"Perhaps someday, when
I'm old, I'll be able to say that I visited Fesoa," Lyda wondered with
large eyes.
"Indeed you will, iari.
Someday you will." The storekeeper patted her shoulder again and shuffled
back to the counter, leaving Lyda alone with the beautiful fabrics and ribbons.
Shret Asketen tapped his left breast to activate his combadge. "Commander
Troi, are civilians boarding yet?" He waited, but no response came. He
tapped his chest again and realized he was tapping fabric. Shret sighed heavily
and started searching his pockets. It was the second communicator badge he'd
lost and Mae would never let him hear the end of it. He glanced at his PADD of
notes for the day. Maybe he could still retrace his steps and find it before
she got really annoyed with him.
He started walking along
the row of ships, heading for the clothing store. Maybe he had lost it amongst
the tunics. He stepped through the door and the venerable old storekeeper
smiled at him. "What have you forgotten today, Professor?"
Shret smiled at her
sheepishly, "I've lost my badge from the Titan, Nesca. I thought it
might be here."
Nesca shook her antennae to
berate him. "I could build a new shop with the things you have forgotten
here over the years, Shret."
He laughed and took her
hand as they slowly headed over to the racks of tunics. "But you're too
honest, Nesca. You keep returning them." They spent much time moving
displays and looking around for the tiny silver communicator.
Lyda had narrowed her choices down to eight things. She though about her
allowance and decided she'd take whatever she could get for it. She pulled the
silks into her arms and headed up to the counter. "When you're ready, I
want these please." No one responded and, after a moment, she started to
search the store. She found the storekeeper laughing with another Andorian, a
tall one with a long white ponytail and gentle eyes.
The stranger pointed at
her. "There, Nesca. It looks just like that." The girl followed the
man's finger and saw that he was pointing at the combadge on her chest. Lyda
wasn't quite sure what to think, but the kind storekeeper was holding his hand
and smiling.
She took a brave step
forward and extended her hand, "I'm Lyda." The tall blue man's
antennae moved toward her as if they had a life of their own. "My dad's
the chief engineer on the Titan."
His antennae dancing with
amusement, he took her hand and held it. "He must work with my wife. I'm
Shret."
"It's nice to meet
you," she replied politely. "I like those things." Lyda
pantomimed antennae on her own head and Shret laughed as he knelt down next to
her.
"So do I." He
looked at the floor for a moment, then called her closer with a hand.
"I've a confession to make, Lyda. I've lost my communicator."
"That's pretty serious."
She thought for a moment before her eyes brightened. "I can help you look
for it, if you want. Do you think it's here?"
Shret shook his head,
antennae drooping. "Nesca and I have checked here and I can't think of
anywhere else I might have lost it." He paused, still looking at the
floor, "Perhaps you'd consent to shop with me for a while? So I don't get
lost without it?"
Smiling, Lyda nodded,
"Shopping's more fun with someone else."
Shret stood up and reached
for her hand. "I heartily agree with you, Lyda." He tilted his
antennae to Nesca and she began bagging the silks Lyda had chosen.
"But wait, I still
have to pay for those," she interrupted anxiously. "I really was just
looking."
A blue hand patted her head
gently. "She'll put it on my account. Gressoran silks can be hard on your
allowance. Ancestors know I understand what it's like."
Lyda giggled and accepted
the bag from Nesca. "I can't believe you still have an allowance!"
Shret sighed as they left
the store and headed further into the Market Commons, "I see you have yet
to meet my wife."
* * * * *
When Ensign Lisa Cartwright
walked into the lounge on deck eight, she expected to find at least some
crewmembers waiting for the Titan to leave, but it was deserted except
for a ball of feathers dancing along behind the bar crooning to itself happily.
"Lisa! Come in come in!" he croaked with enthusiasm. "So busy
everyone today. Not you, you come in, drink be having."
Lisa looked over the row of
bottles in back of the bar and thought for a moment. "What's your
specialty?"
He reached for a twisted
purple bottle in the very back of the shelf. "Most easy, most easy.
Crash-landing."
"Stellar Cartography's
all ready to go. I've even got our first joyride programmed in. Bring it
on." Lisa watched with interest as the bird took a tall, thin glass and
filled it part way with the purple liquid. He added a flurry of other
ingredients and stirred it with a feather he'd plucked from his chest. The
drink sat for a moment as a dull orange color, then popped to a bright blue.
Venuri H'tujl waved his
finger feathers with a flourish and broke off the feather stirrer to form a
straw. "Ta da! Crash-landing."
Lisa took a sip and smiled
appreciatively. "I really like it. It tastes like," she paused in
thought, "something I've never had before, I guess. I do like it."
"Music of the soul,
no? Just good drink, yes?" He fluttered his wings in pride. "Good,
good. Humble Pukah server pleased." Venuri hopped himself to the other
side of the bar with a tall glass full of yellow bubbles. "Work you
finished yes? Fun free be having?"
The navigator took another
sip of her crash-landing and smirked. "I'm all finished so far, that's why
I'm down here."
Venuri fondled a lock of
Lisa's bright red hair and cooed. "Good good good! Sing we together, music
bring poor lonely 'nuri?" He hopped off his stool and wandered to the end
of the lounge. "Maybe, maybe. Yes yes yes! Music bring?"
Lisa picked up her drink,
already feeling like an Earth singer of days gone by. "I could be persuaded
..." Regardless of her decision, Venuri was already turning on the
holographic band.
* * * * *
"It was hard by the
dim lake of Auber in the misty mid region of Weir. It was down by the dark tarn
of Auber in the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir," Ibric Sark muttered the
poetic lines aloud as he performed his final check of the antimatter emitters.
"Here once, through an alley Titanic," he said, aligning the flow
converters, "Of cypress, I roamed with my Soul. Of cypress, with Psyche,
my Soul." Sark even double-checked that the antimatter pods were exactly
in the middle of acceptable tolerance levels.
"There were days when
my heart was volcanic." He touched the first regulator, coaxing life into
the veins of the Titan. "As the scoriac rivers that roll." The
matter injectors came online with a growing hum. "As the lavas that
restlessly roll."
The warp core came to life.
Glorious, pulsing life that filled the engine room with a soft blue light.
"Beautiful," he whispered to himself from his position on the catwalk,
"Simply beautiful."
Sark allowed himself a
moment to watch the heart of the Titan beat as his staff cheered their
enthusiasm. He tapped his combadge.
"Bridge, warp power is
now online. The umbilical power transfers are disengaged." The Engineering
computer panels went dark for a second before snapping on with a new
brightness. "We're under our own steam," he added before tapping his
communicator again to end the transmission.
With a new lightness in his
step Sark climbed carefully down the ladder to the main deck. "Excellent
work everyone. Power output is even two percent higher than we predicted."
One of his crewmen was passing around a bottle of champagne and handed it to
the chief sheepishly. Sark wasn't known for being a celebrant, however, he
accepted the bottle with a quiet smile. The resounding cheer was almost enough
to drive him out of Engineering all together, but he managed to give his crew
another heartfelt smile of thanks.
"Keep up the good
work," he offered as he settled into a chair in front of the monitoring
station. Sark allowed himself to lean back and close his eyes. He had done his
part; his crew had brought life to this ship. Brilliant life that would carry
the entire crew to the end of the stars and back. The Titan was ready to
fly.
* * * * *
Dr. Aria Braz attempted for
the third time to scratch the nagging itch on her forehead and remembered, as
her hand impacted her faceplate, why she had failed on her previous efforts.
Instead, she tried her best to shake a stray lock of blonde hair out of her
face because her hands couldn't reach inside her environmental suit.
"How much
longer?"
Ensign Reyllt called on
every iota of Vulcan control he had ever had not to sneeze. "We still have
fourteen dangerous samples to transfer."
Disgruntled, Aria looked up
at the read-outs for the computer-controlled environment. "We're already
in quarantine, there are three level-ten forcefields between us and the rest of
the ship. The samples are in double-sealed containers. The chance of us
dropping one so it actually breaks is next to nothing and even then the
microbes would have to survive the biogenic field."
"I will not stop you
from removing your suit, Doctor," Reyllt assured her as he reached for the
next container, "I will not even inform the captain that you are risking
your life. However, I will remain in my own suit."
"I thought you were
supposed to have a sense of humor," Aria muttered back quietly, loud
enough for the suit comm to pick up.
Just then, Reyllt sneezed,
covering the glass of his faceplate with moisture. He looked over at her with a
pitiful expression and they both started laughing. "I thought these suits
were supposed to have something to deal with that."
Aria lifted her left wrist
and pointed to a green indicator button. "Press this," she instructed
through her laughter. "It should help some."
His faceplate glowed for an
instant and flushed itself clean. "Thank you."
The young doctor's nod was
lost in her helmet as she went back to business. "Be careful with this
one, Reyllt. The TR-4819 is named for the number of people who died on Mora
Two." Something clinked on the floor behind her and she whirled around as
quickly as the EV suit would permit. "What was that?" Braz asked, a
slight tinge of worry in her voice.
Reyllt seemed unconcerned.
"The prions for Denallax Fever."
"You dropped
them?"
"My hand slipped and
you warned me to be careful of the TR-4819. Unfortunately, that care came at
the expense of the Denallax Fever." The nurse's back was to her and she couldn't
see his face.
Aria bit her lip in
frustration. "It will take four hours to decontaminate the surface of our
suits. We won't be able to watch the launch."
Hearing nothing in
response, she stewed in her own annoyance. Reyllt knelt to pick up the dropped
vial and turned around to show it to the doctor. Instead of the expected green
syrup of Denallax Fever prions, the vial was clean and empty. Reyllt was
laughing through his faceplate. Mirth was an odd juxtaposition to his nearly
Vulcan features.
"You knew it was
empty."
"Of course I
did." His chuckling carried well over the suit comm system. "My
reflexes would never allow me to drop something that important."
Braz took a deep breath.
"You're going to pay for that."
The young man nodded
quickly. "Yes, sir. What penance will you assign me?"
"Your reflexes can
work on the thirty physicals that still need updating. Not the captain because
he was responsible enough to come in on his own, but there's a good list of
others. Counselor Troi, Ensign Ferris, Lieutenant Scott, Lieutenant Commander
Ibric," the doctor's quick hands were already back to work checking that
all her viralogic specimens were intact. "Need I go on?"
"No, sir." Reyllt
winked as he handed her the real vial of Denallax Fever, "You have started
with three very beautiful women and conspicuously left Lieutenant McCoy off the
list. I am starting to believe that you may enjoy his company more than you
claim to. I also believe that you've given me the lovely Troi, Ferris and Scott
to keep me from noticing your omission."
Slightly flustered, Aria
snapped at her head nurse in her best command voice. "I think you should
keep your devious thoughts to yourself, Ensign."
"Of course, sir. I
will endeavor to hide them in the future."
"You'd be better off
if you didn't have them at all," she muttered darkly.
"I am afraid I have no
control over my thoughts. Deviousness is part of my Romulan heritage."
There was a trace of real apology in his voice.
Aria looked up from her
vials and managed a smile. "Is that your version of 'I'm sorry but you'll
have to live with it, sir?'"
"I think that is a
very astute realization of your behalf."
For a long time the pair
worked in silence before Reyllt spoke again. "I also find you quite
lovely, sir. Just in case you were concerned that I found the other women
attractive and did not mention your obvious charms. I find your eyes especially
intriguing."
"Ensign?" She
forced herself to look at her work, completely unwilling to meet Reyllt's eyes
and let him see her blushing.
"Sir?" Had Aria
looked up, she would have caught the half-Romulan in a wicked smile.
"No more
talking."
"Yes, sir."
* * * * *
Sharpclaw leaned over his
Tactical station to give Deanna his next report. "Ibric Lyda reports that
she will be taking charge of Shret Asketen. She is escorting him
shopping."
Deanna smiled warmly.
"Pass that on to Engineering. I'm sure Sark will be pleased to know that
Lyda's taken on so much responsibility."
Confused by the counselor's
reaction, he only let it show in his tail. That confusion then gave way to
supreme annoyance as she saw the next report flash across his console.
"Chief Yavan has taken the transporters off-line. He believes they require
further maintenance," he said with an underlying growl. This could keep
them stuck, unnecessarily, for hours.
Deanna sighed and ran her
fingers over her temples. The excitement of setting off on the Titan's
maiden voyage was being buried yet again under maintenance and bureaucracy.
"Inform the captain at Epsilon Indi. Ask if we can start transferring the
crew through the umbilical."
Sharpclaw hurried to comply
with her message, let an ensign take his position and crossed to stand before
the command seat. "I wish to speak with Chief Yavan, sir. I will return to
the Bridge momentarily."
Trying not to smile, Deanna
nodded, "Good luck, Lieutenant."
"Aye, sir."
Sharpclaw's bushy tail showed a touch of excitement as he headed for the
turbolift.
* * * * *
Commander Jareth Holman was
short, barely standing over one and a half meters in height. His hair was steel
tinged with blonde, as if the color had retreated from his face overnight. His
jaw was firm and even the lines around his pale blue eyes were cut deep into
tired skin.
Even with the Titan's
first officer towering over him in a blazing blue fury, he was not ready to
give in. "The tractor emitters must be visually inspected for dust and
additional contaminants. By not inspecting them himself the captain is already
showing his contempt for the beautiful vessel it took us years to construct.
Bolt by bolt, one deck plate at a time ..." Holman's determined voice
trailed off in a self-righteous whine.
With her short white hair
mussed and her antennae nearly rigid with anger, Commander Maeute Asketen was
an intimidating presence. "He's the captain! Starfleet captains do not
look for dust when one of your crewmen would be perfectly capable of doing it."
"So you would entrust
the pride of Starfleet engineering to one of my first-year techs?"
Seething in disgust and rage, Holman's fists were tight as rocks.
"I would entrust it to
a Ferengi dabo girl if it got you to shut up about the damned dust!"
Will Riker had to clear his
throat three times before either of the bickering officers looked over at him.
All of the technicians in Command had retreated to safer territory some time
ago and only the three Titan officers and Commander Holman remained.
Guilty silence waited for Will to speak. "What seems to be the
problem?" the captain asked.
Jareth blustered over to
him. "This irritating woman refuses to ask you to look over the tractor
emitters, sir. She claims you are not interested in this vital part of your ship
and I tried to impose upon her the importance of the tractor emitters."
Riker waved him off with a
hand, "This irritating woman is my first officer and she is doing exactly
what she should. Perhaps with a bit more gusto than is required, but her duty."
Lieutenant McCoy wisely
chose to stand in the back, away from the action, and was the only person who
happened to see the message coming over from the Titan. As soon as Will
stopped speaking, Commanders Asketen and Holman began yelling at each other again.
The captain watched with a quiet, bemused expression.
Hugh didn't have a chance
of distracting either of them from their shouting match, so he tapped Riker on
the shoulder. "Captain, they're having some trouble with the transporters.
Commander Troi wants to let the crew walk over through the service
umbilical."
Will faced him and nodded.
"It sounds like a good solution. Tell her to begin immediately." He
leaned in closer, "I don't know about you, but I'm ready to be light years
away ..."
McCoy nodded curtly.
"I'll agree with that, sir."
"If the Enterprise-B
had their tractor beam in proper working order, Soran would never have been
able to nearly destroy the Viridian star system. If you aliens would read
Federation history--" Holman's sentence was cut off as a blue hand stopped
dangerously close to his neck.
The fingers of the hand
were trembling in rage. "'You aliens?'"
Will imposed himself
between the two commanders, sufficiently separating them. "Holman, Deanna
wants to start transferring the crew through the service umbilical. Would that
be all right?"
The commander quickly
retreated from the enraged Andorian and crossed to his console. He touched a
few controls. "It seems that your transporters are in a maintenance
cycle." One hand still tapping controls, he reached for his combadge and
barked, "Fvai Arieynne, your time is now!"
Hugh saw it first as Holman
turned around with the phaser in his right hand. "Captain! Get down!"
McCoy leapt for the captain just as the bright red beam lanced out in a wide
arc. Hugh hit the deck and lay still. Commander Asketen and Captain Riker fell
to the floor a split second later, a tangled mess of arms and legs.
Commander Holman touched a
control on his phaser and calmly began blasting every console in sight.
A short while later,
content that the Command Center had been completely reduced to melted rubble,
he tapped his combadge again. "I'm ready to join you."
The transporters of the Titan
then whisked Jareth Holman away from the smoking ruins of the Epsilon Indi
Command Center.
* * * * *
The female in the
transporter room heard Holman's signal and beamed him aboard. She pulled a slim
green hypospray from her pocket and injected it near the large blood vessels in
her thigh. Though she knew it was irrational, she pictured the contents
slipping through the blood of her body. The activation molecule found the blood
cells and rode them to her lungs. There it exited through her breath as the
carefully constructed sleeping agent, Quinze-Trojazine. The Starfleet officers
were not part of the mission, only the ship mattered, but death was distasteful
to the public and would not serve the goals of the Fvai Arieynne.
She tasted the faint
metallicness in the back of her throat that signaled the agent's complete
assimilation into her system. She smiled and breathed deep. The Fvai compound
would soon be all over the ship. Every time the Fvai breathed it filled the
air, more pervasive than even a powerful anesthesia. The Titan's crew
wouldn't even smell it.
All over the ship, the
easily dismissed Andorian technicians pulled their own hyposprays from their
pockets injected the contents into their thighs. They then broke into small
groups and started to wander the corridors as the Titan's crew fell like
so many dead leaves.
One walked into the lounge
and Lisa Cartwright collapsed mid-note as Venuri crumbled beside her. Ibric
Sark passed out in his chair while his engineering crew fell to the floor.
Sharpclaw-to-Ennien only had enough time to wrinkle his nose in disgust before
falling to the deck in a furry heap just outside Transporter Control. Deanna
Troi slumped forward out of the command chair just as the male who had
originally knocked out Xander Yavan exited the turbolift onto the Bridge.
In Sick Bay, neither Dr.
Braz nor her carefully silent nurse saw the green light outside their
containment area turn red, indicating an airborne biohazard alert. Inside their
EV suits and the sealed environment they worked in, the pair continued without
interruption.
* * * * *
Ensign Ferris saw the red
warning light come on above the umbilical corridor as a forcefield snapped on.
"It's losing containment," Jos called to Lieutenant Scott as she ran
to the controls. "It's been breached on the Titan. It's as if the
ship's pulling away--"
Caitlyn grabbed Ferris'
hand and pointed out the window. "Look!"
The Titan was
pulling out of spacedock, atmosphere bleeding from the umbilical support
sheared away during its quick departure. Like a graceful sea creature breaching
the surface, the Titan righted herself. The energy of her warp field
then coalesced around her as she disappeared in a burst of light.
"What the hell?!"
Joslynn said in utter disbelief. "That's our ship and it just left
us."
Caitlyn stared after the
ship, speechless, wondering if it was some kind of trick.
A second later, Red Alert
sirens came on all over Epsilon Station, screaming their warning a few minutes
too late.
· Featured poem:
Edgar Allan Poe's Ulalume.
Chapter 2
By Miriam
Dr. Aria Braz
noticed something strange as she handed the last container of hazardous
chemicals to Reyllt. A green light was flashing on the central medical console.
A light that shouldn't be flashing ... ever. Not unless the ship's computer had
been accessed by an unauthorized party who was trying to override the security
system.
Pulse ...
pulse ... pulse ... It was a tiny green beacon, hardly noticeable unless one
looked directly at the console. One light among many that happened to be
brighter and more irritating than the rest. Yet staring at its piercing
insistence, Aria knew that it wasn't a mistake or a drill. Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
Reyllt
followed her gaze to the console. His eyes met hers in surprise and they shared
a silent nod of acknowledgment.
"Dr.
Braz to the Bridge," Aria said to the communication unit built into her EV
suit. There was no answer. "Braz to anyone onboard the Titan."
Silence.
Reyllt's
hands raced across the buttons on the central console. "The ship's
internal communication system is disengaged and the sensors are off-line."
"Get
these bins secured," she directed him, unable to control the shaking in
her voice.
He hurried to
complete the task as the doctor stepped through the decontamination field and
exited the quarantine enclosure at the back of Sickbay. She wriggled out of the
protective suit that covered her body from head to toe and tossed it into the
nearby recycler.
Reyllt
emerged from the enclosure moments later. He quickly disengaged himself from
the cumbersome suit just as the doors on the opposite side of Sickbay opened.
Because they
were standing behind the wall that separated the quarantine enclosure from the
rest of the medical center, they couldn't see who had just entered, but when
the visitors spoke harshly in an alien tongue, the Starfleet officers froze.
Reyllt
abruptly grabbed the doctor's arm to get her attention and nodded at the access
hatchway that was set in the middle of the rear wall. She didn't question his
urgent suggestion, only followed as they slunk along the floor toward the
hatchway door. They crawled inside the cramped space and Aria eased the door
closed behind them without a sound.
They held
their collective breath and listened. To Aria, the language was indecipherable.
She looked at Reyllt, but he didn't meet her gaze. He was concentrating on what
the intruders were saying, his gentle eyes wide with comprehension.
After
searching around the room for several minutes, barking orders at each other and
kicking over what sounded like two small medical stands, the strange men at
last departed Sickbay.
"Who are
they? What do they want?" Aria whispered, her face just inches from
Reyllt's in the confined space. She didn't expect him to know the answer.
"They're
Romulans: surgically altered, if I heard correctly. Fascinating. They met no
resistance in their hijacking of the Titan."
Braz felt the
blood drain from her face. "How can you say that so casually?! Where's the
crew? Did they say anything else?"
"They
were told to find anyone the pathogen missed, render them unconscious, and put
them with the others. Any resistance will be met with death. One of them
doesn't like the false antennae. They itch. And he believes his blue skin is
unbecoming. Actually, he used more ... expressive terms, but that is a close
approximation."
Ignoring the
last bit of trivial information, Braz added, "So the rest of the crew is
being held somewhere by Romulans posing as Andorians. We must have been spared
from whatever pathogen they used because of the containment suits."
Reyllt
nodded.
Aria's
stomach clenched in fear. Though she searched her training, her mind came up
blank. "What are we going to do?"
The nurse
thought silently for a moment, then pulled out the tricorder that was still
attached to his utility belt. He opened it and scanned on a wide frequency.
"I'm reading numerous life signs in the Mess Hall. I suggest we start
there."
Braz took the
tricorder from him and began some scans of her own. The pathogen was easily
picked up and identified as Quinze-Trojazine on the small instrument. There
were only minute traces of it left onboard the ship; not enough to render
anyone unconscious. The antigen would be a simple mix of sympheidine and
cortisine, administered through a hypospray ... or better yet, she could
convert it to a gaseous state and pipe it through the life support system. That
was it would revive everyone at once. Brilliant! She didn't bother to
suppressed the self-satisfied grin that spread across her face.
Reyllt raised
his eyebrows with interest. "You've got a plan."
The doctor's
voice became an octave higher with excitement. "It's a simple antigen and
it maintains full potency in a gaseous state."
"The
circulation system."
"Exactly.
Once we're done, we can use the access tunnels to get to the Mess Hall. I think
there's a couple of phasers in the locked cabinet." Aria turned and began
to push on the hatch door when Reyllt's hand came down on her arm to stop her.
"No,
it's too dangerous. They could come back."
The doctor
swung her head around to meet his eyes in the semi-dark. "So what do you
suggest we do? Sit here?"
"No,
I'll go and make the antigen. You stay here where it's safe. It will only take
a moment."
Aria smiled
at his old-fashioned chivalry. "Always looking out for the ladies, aren't
you, Rey?"
He shrugged.
"Well,
it'll get done faster if we both go and that's what we're going to do."
Before the nurse could protest further, Aria had already opened the hatch and
was slinking back into Sickbay.
* * * * *
"Shit!"
Joslynn Ferris stopped dead in her tracks, nearly tripping Caitlyn Scott who
was right on her heels. The captain, first officer and chief of ops were all
lying unconscious on the floor by the fried command console. The walls stunk of
burnt metal and paint from numerous phaser lacerations.
The science
officer tried to move past Ferris, but the pilot stopped her with an extended
arm. "Cait, whoever did this could still be around here," she hissed
between clenched teeth.
They visually
scanned the chamber with caution. There was no one in sight and the room was
eerily silent. At last convinced that the danger had passed, they both moved to
the fallen officers. Joslynn shook the captain's shoulder. When he didn't
awaken, she was tempted to give him a nice hearty smack across the face in the
name of duty, but then thought better of it. Another shake and Riker began to
come around. She glanced up and saw that Caitlyn had already woken Hugh and
Maeute. Time to get some answers.
"Captain,"
Joslynn said, "the Titan is gone. I think it's been hijacked."
Will Riker's
hand went to his head as he stumbled to his feet. "I know!" he
growled, pushing his way impatiently past the younger woman. He stormed out of
the room and down a long, high-ceilinged hallway to the next port over.
Luckily, the port was untouched and the console was functional. Four men were
standing guard at the post, but they all parted to allow the disgruntled
captain access. Riker slammed his hand on the inner-station communications
button. "Captain Riker to Indi Command."
"Command
here, sir," came the voice of a young male. A moment later the tabletop
viewscreen flicked on and an Andorian ensign appeared.
"Where
the hell is my ship?"
"We ...
don't know, sir ... The admiral is trying to get to the bottom of the
problem."
"Trying
to get to ...?" Will shook his head at the incompetence. "Look, it's
quite simple. Someone has stolen my ship, along with half my crew and my wife!
We have to go after them!"
"But sir
..."
"Patch
me in with the admiral. Now!"
"Yes,
sir." The ensign leaned forward and flipped a switch. His innocent face
was promptly replaced by the stern features of the elderly Admiral Povinsiir,
who presided over the space station.
"Captain,
I understand that you're upset, but until we get to the bottom of this theft,
what group was behind it and their motivation, I'm afraid ..."
"With
all due respect, Admiral, it doesn't matter to me who did it or why. I'm going
after them. Which ship is ready to go?"
"I'm
afraid I cannot allow you to do that, Captain. Not until we have more
information."
"Sir, we
can't just sit here and discuss this in committee! We have to pursue now while
there's still a signature to track."
The deeply
wrinkled admiral huffed in annoyance, his dark blue antennae turning forward,
openly challenging. "It may not be just the Titan that is in
danger. There could be many more of the thieves just waiting to take out any
ships that follow. Besides, I need your assistance in keeping the Indi citizens
calm and safe. There could be more accomplices still here, planning further
attacks. The entire station may be in danger. The citizens of Epsilon Indi must
come first."
Will could do
nothing but frown and clench his fists. He understood the logic of the elder's
decision, but there was no way he could sit by and allow some misguided
extremists to steal his life away. Everything he had ... everything he cared
about was heading god only knew where and he would be damned if he didn't do
all he could to stop it.
"I'm
sorry, Captain Riker, request denied. Please gather your remaining command crew
and stay put until further orders. Povinsiir out." The admiral's image
rapidly disintegrated, along with Will's options.
Riker didn't
turn around. He knew that his crew had followed him to the port and he couldn't
face them. All those eyes staring at the captain who had failed his first
mission before he even left. Why him? Why always him?
* * * * *
Counselor
Deanna Troi returned to consciousness with a terrible headache and a nauseating
sense of disorientation. Her eyes flew open and were met with the hard, thinly
carpeted floor of the Mess Hall pressing against her face.
With great
effort, she slid her hands under her chest and pushed against the floor. Her
legs followed until she was supporting herself on trembling hands and knees.
But the room spun around her and she was forced to lower her head back to the
floor. Her knees buckled beneath her and she collapsed. What in the name of the
deities was wrong with her muscles? With eyes closed, she tried to sense away
her disorientation. She could tell that she was among many unconscious bodies,
some of whom had stronger emotional signatures than others. Sharpclaw was easy
to detect, as was Venuri, due to their distinctly alien thought processes. They
were unconscious. She couldn't tell about the others. There was definitely
someone else awake, more than one person in fact, but isolating their
identities was next to impossible in her current state.
At last the
dizziness faded and Deanna was able to pull herself slowly up to a sitting
position, her back leaning against the blessedly stable wall behind her. The
sight that met her eyes was expected, given what her senses had told her
earlier, but seeing it herself made it all the more real ... and shocking. She
was flanked on all three sides by her unconscious crewmates. Bradley, Sark,
Cartwright ... So many of them, just thrown about like rag dolls.
Her eyes
traveled upward until they came to rest on the Andorians standing by the Mess
Hall door.
The workers
from Epsilon Station! But how? Why?
Her mind
whirled with so many questions, she neglected to use the very strength that
made her unique among the crew. That was, until one of the hijackers began to
turn her way and Troi was forced to close her eyes again, praying that he
wouldn't notice her change of position. There were several other people leaning
against the back wall as well, so she wasn't that conspicuous, as long as he
didn't catch her awake.
Without the
use of vision, Deanna was able to let go of her five basic senses more easily
while she stretched out the sixth - this time toward the captors. The one
closest to her was a young male, perhaps in his mid-twenties, rather confused
about how they were going to escape the authorities, but unwavering in his
devotion to their cause. The one closer to the door was older, maybe forty,
female, incredibly focused and efficient ... practiced and deadly. There was
something familiar in her bearing. In the male's too, for that matter.
The moment
the female gave an order to the male in a language definitely not Fesoan, it
dawned on Deanna that the two were familiar because they were Romulans. They
must have been physically altered to appear Andorian. That was how they go away
with the hijack. No one suspected them because they were posing as station
technicians. But why? Were they somehow connected to the rebellion that Shinzon
started?
The thought
of Shinzon made her shudder to her core. But there was no time to get into
that. She had to think about the crew. How she was going to rescue them. And
about Will ... Will! Was he okay? Oh, gods!
Deanna
scanned as far as her empathic senses could go for a trace of his spirit
forced, but there was none to be found. Either the Titan was already
very far from Epsilon Indi or ... no, the alternative was unthinkable. They
must be quite far from Epsilon Indi. End of story.
She refused
to let her worry for her husband cloud her thoughts. It was time to take action
here and now. The ship was in danger and it was up to her to lead her crew to
safety. Deanna could sense the others beginning to wake. Lisa Cartwright, who
lay next to her on the right side was stirring. She let out a moan of pain and
Troi wished that she could reach out to comfort the young ensign, but any
movement at this point needed to be precise and well planned.
Now that so
many of the officers were waking, there was little point in pretending to be
unconscious herself. Deanna raised her eyelids and gazed at her crew, their
communal sense of disorientation and fear nearly overwhelming to her open
senses.
The guards
turned their weapons toward the stirring prisoners. Their emotions radiated surprise
and it was clear by their wide-eyed expressions that the prisoners weren't
supposed to be awake yet. But rather than render them all unconscious again,
the female seemed to take pleasure in the fact that her captives were becoming
alert. Her thin lips curled into a crooked grin and a sadistic laugh bubbled up
from her throat.
The Romulan
in disguise waited for everyone to awaken, for all eyes to turn toward her. She
obviously wanted to be in the spotlight. Suspense hung heavily in the air; a
feeling that something horrible was about to happen. But exactly what, Deanna
couldn't begin to guess.
"Hmmm
... so we're awake, I see," the female said at last. "Pity. This
would have been quite painless if the pathogen had lasted longer." There
was no sincerity in her voice; only venom.
Deanna found
the strength to stand, using the wall behind her as a brace. "Who are you?
What do you want?" She stepped forward, past the officers who were also
gradually maneuvering to upright positions.
Sharpclaw
moved in beside her, his large, furry frame a ready shield should the counselor
be threatened.
The woman
laughed. "Why in the name of Arieynne should I tell you that?"
Troi then
spotted Ensign Paxson, a security trainee, shifting his body into a low attack
stance. He was closest to the front of the group, but also had the advantage of
being off to the side enough that neither of the guards noticed him. He might
have a chance to disarm one of them if he moved fast, but that would give the
other time to shoot before the crew overwhelmed him with sheer numbers. And who
knew how many more guards might be waiting just outside the door? Deanna
couldn't have the ensign acting rashly without the coordination of the rest of
the group. If even one person died because of his choices, it was too many.
She obviously
couldn't order Paxson not to make this move; he was too far from her and it
would tip off the Romulans. She glanced up at Sharpclaw and was relieved to
find that he too was glaring at the ensign. The ominous feline officer began to
weave his way through the crowd toward Paxson, but by the time he got there, it
was too late.
The ensign
dove at the female guard who was standing only a few feet away from him.
It took
several long, painful seconds for his body to disintegrate from skin to muscle
mass to bone to dust as it hit an invisible disruptor field. His howls of agony
were echoed by several other crewmembers who knew him well and cried out for
him as he died.
Because she
had left herself vulnerable in the scanning process, Deanna felt his death on a
profound level. Tears immediately sprang to her eyes, but she swallowed them
back ... hard. She clenched her jaw, ignoring the pain of the large lump in her
throat, and forced her eyes forward in a straight, focused line as an example
to the frightened crew.
The female
guard help up her illegal disruptor for all to see and waved it toward the
prisoners. "This invisible field around you is all you need to worry
about. It allows my disruptor in ..." She fired the weapon through the
forcefield and abruptly disintegrated another crewmember, to the disbelief and
horror of all. This time it was Sarah Wiley, Astrometrics. Her screams of agony
resounded through the Mess Hall, vibrating the walls and the floor, the mirrors
and the doors, as her body took was seemed like forever to decompose. "...
but keeps you out of the way," she finished with a casual wave of her
hand, as if she had done nothing more important than toss a book on a table.
A devastated
silence followed.
No one moved.
No one dared breathe.
Except for
the Romulan woman, whose amused smile glittered in her deep black eyes.
Taking a firm
hold of her emotions and tethering them some place deep inside to be dealt with
later, Deanna moved all of her focus into scanning the woman, desperately
searching for a weakness. She found only pleasure. A true sadist. Maybe trying
to reason with her would be of more use. She cleared her throat of errant tears
and, with as steady a voice as she could manage, said, "These actions will
be looked upon as an act of war by the Federation. You know they will pursue
this ship relentlessly. If you stop what you're doing and negotiate ..."
"Shut
up!" the woman yelled, impatience clear in the flash of her eyes and the
thinning of her lips. She walked a few paces forward until she stood facing
Deanna, pointing the disruptor directly as her head. "You're a bother. And
I don't have the patience."
The young
male Romulan opened his mouth to protest, but then thought better of it. Deanna
knew he feared the woman. It was clear how desperately he wanted to prove
himself to her, but worried that if he protested, she might turn the weapon on
him instead. He glanced nervously at the Mess Hall door several times, no doubt
hoping that another guard would enter the room to distract her.
No one came.
The woman's
thumb went for the big round button. She hesitated a moment, measuring Deanna's
focused gaze. Then with a shrug of indifference, she fired.
* * * * *
"Jos!"
Lyda flew into her friend's arms, nearly knocking the woman over. "What
happened? Where's Daddy? Who took our ship?" she babbled, tears streaming
down her round cheeks.
"It's
okay, baby," Joslynn soothed, stroking the child's hair and kissing her
tears away. "It's going to be okay."
The Titan's
first officer stared at Ferris with interest. This was a whole new side of the
outspoken pilot. She watched as Joslynn led Lyda to a bench against the wall,
with a firm hold around the girl's waist to ease the strain on the young
muscles that were quickly becoming too weak to support the girl's small frame.
Once seated, Lyda turned her head into the older woman's shoulder and nuzzled
her neck, as she might have done with her real mother when she was an infant.
Her sobs slowly ceased and her breath evened as Joslynn held her tightly and
whispered comforts in her ear that only the two of them were privy to.
Maeute was
jostled from the touching sight by a similar greeting from Shret, though not as
tearful. He threw his long arms around her neck and they shared an intimate and
comforting antennae touch.
"What
has happened, Mae?" he asked tenderly.
"We
don't know any more than you do at this point, kiiba. The Titan
is gone. There is no other information." She turned to look at the captain
and Shret followed her saddened gaze.
Captain Will Riker stared out the viewport, his fingers clenched so tightly
around the decorative brass rail that his knuckles had long lost their color.
He couldn't just stay here and wait. He had to do something! He was painfully
aware of the crewmembers who awaited his orders. They needed leadership. They
needed him to do something heroic. Maybe it was time to rise to the occasion.
He pushed off the rail and wheeled around to face his crew.
"Number
One, check the status of all available ships that are docked at this
station," he ordered on his way back to the command console.
The commander
thought to protest. She knew what he was thinking and it was utterly foolish.
Not only would he be court-martialed for such an act, but it was likely they
wouldn't get an inch past the numerous guards blocking the access to every
port. All qualified personnel had already armed themselves and taken up guard
posts around the station. At least the four guards who were at this post had
left after Riker told them his crew would ensure that the port was well
protected. Still, they wouldn't get past the secondary security system if they
attempted to leave unauthorized.
Quickly
punching in the necessary codes anyway, Maeute found that there was only one
available ship. A runabout, just slightly larger than a shuttle. All the
remaining ships had been sent out on patrol around the perimeter of the station
to protect against further alien attacks.
"Sir
..."
"No
good," he interrupted, examining the schematics over her shoulder. The
runabout was too small and too slow.
"Let me
check for any ships that are within subspace communication range," the
first officer volunteered. At the very least it was something to do.
Will had to
smile a bit at Maeute's dedication to her work. Wouldn't it be handy if the Enterprise
just happened to be in the neighborhood? Of course he would never life down the
shame of having to be rescued by Picard on his first duty as captain of his own
ship.
"By the
ancestors!"
"What?"
Will asked, edging closer to the screen.
"It's
the dreadnought P'Trell!" Maeute turned her head to gaze at her
husband.
"Emor,"
Shret responded with a smile.
"Emor?"
"Our
wife," the two Andorians said in unison.
"She's
the captain of the P'Trell and it's within communications range,"
Maeute explained. "Should I contact her, sir?"
Will thought
about it a moment. But not much longer than that. A ship was a ship, even if it
was Fesoan. The armaments were certainly comparable to the Titan. And it
sure beat the hell out of hanging out here. Court-martial or no, it was worth
the risk.
"Do
it," he said with an authority that no one would dare question.
* * * * *
"Tralisse!"
the young Romulan guard yelled at just the right moment. It caused the woman to
flinch and she missed Deanna's head by two inches, singeing her top hairs and
leaving a healthy sized hold in the jutting, angular support beam that
connected the rear bulkhead to the ceiling.
Troi let out
the breath she had been holding.
"What?!"
Tralisse snarled in Romulan, turning to face the other guard.
He gulped and
Deanna saw his hand twitch on the disruptor he held. "She is the captain's
wife. The repercussions ..."
Deanna was
relieved not only that the young officer had saved her life, but also because
she had taken the time to study the Romulan language extensively after the
incident aboard the Warbird Khazara. It gave her an edge since the
crew's communicators/translators had been removed from their uniforms.
The female
guard approached the male with slow, deliberate steps. He backed away
defensively. "Do you presume to tell me what I can and cannot do, Fezzin?
Daring to use my first name, no less?"
"No,
Commander. I-I apologize. I just thought ..."
"That's
the problem, Fezzin. Underlings like you aren't supposed to think. You do as
you're told. Is that clear?"
He bowed his
head. "Yes, Commander."
Just then,
the Mess Hall doors opened and four more genetically altered Romulans entered.
They stopped in their tracks, respectively, and stared at the prisoners in
surprise.
"They're
awake?" the one in front said, also in Romulan.
"Obviously,"
Tralisse replied angrily. "How did this happen?"
"I don't
know. It shouldn't have. They should be out for at least another day."
Tralisse
shrugged. "Well, it hardly matters. Did you find anyone else?"
The man in
front shook his head. "No. I think this is everyone."
"It
can't be. The roster said there were twenty-nine personnel onboard. We're
missing two."
The man's
eyes moved to count the prisoners in the Mess Hall.
Tralisse
added carefully, "Two tried to escape and the field got them." She
shot a warning look at Fezzin, who kept his mouth tightly closed. "Where's
my daughter?"
"The
last time I saw her, she was leaving the transporter room. Said she needed to
get something to eat."
The commander
tapped her communicator. "Tralisse to Rosnika."
"Yes,
Mother?" came another young adult female voice through the channel.
"The
prisoners have awakened early. I need you to take my place here. I have other business
to attend to on the Bridge."
"On my
way," Rosnika responded.
"You
keep searching the ship," Tralisse ordered the other three guards in the
back.
They nodded
with a "Yes, Commander," and quickly exited the room.
The higher-ranking
man up front took Tralisse's place as she left. He glared at the prisoners with
sheet hatred in his eyes, but at least he wasn't a sadist. Not that Troi could
tell, anyway.
* * * * *
"Two
hours. She'll be here in two hours," Maeute announced happily to the
assembled crewmembers at the port. Several more officers had gathered in the
small waiting area, though most of the Titan crew was scattered through
Epsilon Indi Station, some in their quarters nervously awaiting orders, others
assisting with the security needs or the station or checking over supplies.
Will nodded,
allowing just a shred of hope to enter his mind. "Now if we could only get
the admiral to agree to let us go," he muttered, more to himself than
anyone else.
"Leave
that to me, sir," Maeute said with confidence. She quickly turned and
exited the port without waiting for a reply.
Shret stared
after her retreating back with admiration, not just for the wonderful strength
in her long strides or the alluring curves of her slender waist and rounded
backside, though those things certainly deserved his admiration, but for the
knowledge that if anyone could change the admiral's mind, it would be his Mae.
Will didn't
miss Shret's adoring gaze at his wife. It reminded him of how he often looked
at his own wife, whether she was entering the room with that stunning white
smile of hers, or leaving with a swish of that shapely body that drove him to
distraction. He missed her already.
Pacing back
and forth on the carpet, he clenched his fists, irritation, anger and a million
other emotions wreaking havoc inside his chest. Damn it!
His hands
found the cool brass rail at the back viewport again and he squeezed, resisting
the urge to hit something. At last he released the breath he had been holding
and allowed his muscles to succumb to their exhaustion as he leaned on his
elbows. He prayed that Deanna was all right. Though somehow he knew that she
was. It wasn't through their spiritual connection or some supernatural sixth
sense, either. It was just a gut instinct ... and a measure of respect. She was
strong and capable. She would take care of business aboard the ship as
efficiently as he ever could, and come out all the braver for it.
Will smiled
and shook his head. The deities favored Deanna Troi. She would make it through.
He couldn't allow himself to believe otherwise.
Straightening
up again, his jaw clenched with new resolve. Whether the admiral gave them the
authorization to leave or not, he would go with the P'Trell arrived. And
he would take a few choice crewmembers with him.
Maeute, of
course. She was proving to be quite the handy first officer. Plus he had no
clue about Andorian etiquette and would need her guidance in the matter. Shret,
the absent-minded professor might turn out to be the "Wesley" in the
equation. Besides, he hated to separate a married couple.
Joslynn
Ferris, because he might need her expertise as a pilot. The P'Trell was
likely to have several shuttles that could be useful, especially with a good
pilot behind the controls. Time to see if Ferris was worth all the trouble she
had already caused him.
McCoy would
be good to bring because of his science and operations knowledge, as would
Caitlyn Scott. That was probably all the crew he could risk taking along, but
combined with the Andorians of the P'Trell, it should be enough.
"I'm frightened, Jos. What do you think is happening to Daddy?" Lyda
whispered, clutching Joslynn's hand with a death grip.
Ferris gazed
down at the child, her heart filled with fierce devotion. "I don't know
what's happened to your dad, sweetie, but I do know that he's very brave and
very smart. He'll likely think of a great idea and rescue the entire
crew."
This line
brought a small smile to Lyda's girlish pink lips. Joslynn grinned too, knowing
that she probably wasn't too far off base. She had great faith in Sark. He had
always rescued her from whatever ridiculous jam she had gotten herself into,
more times than she cared to count. He would probably do the same with the Titan.
He could think his way out of any situation.
Caitlyn
lowered herself to the empty spot on the bench next to Joslynn and added,
"You know, Lyda, your dad once helped me out of a bad situation. About a
month ago, right after I found out I was awarded my posting to the Titan,
I got stuck in a turbolift at Starfleet Headquarters. There was a computer
malfunction and the lift got caught between floors. I was able to get the doors
open, but when I tried to pull myself through, my leg," she pointed to the
sensor web that allowed her right leg to move, "got caught on some exposed
circuitry and the mechanism shorted out. I desperately tried to pull myself
through but the wall was too high. All of a sudden, I felt two hands come down
on my arms and pull me up. It was your dad. He happened to be there and he
didn't hesitate to help me."
The girl
gazed up at Caitlyn skeptically. "Anyone would have done that if they saw
you struggling. He's not a hero for being in the right place at the right
time."
Caitlyn
sighed, ignoring the amused smirk on Ferris' face. "Yes, but what you
don't know is that Sark saved me a world of embarrassment by carrying me to a
private hallway and fixing my sensor web without anyone seeing. The circuit
needed to be replaced and I didn't have any way to do that myself without
hopping on one leg down several flights of stairs to the infirmary. He actually
made a replacement circuit by taking apart the comm station embedded in the
wall, something I could have done myself, but never would have thought to do.
Once I could walk again, we repaired the comm station together and we've been
friends ever since."
This time
Lyda did smile. Maybe her dad was a hero after all.
Hugh McCoy approached the captain with caution, respectful of his stress, but
determined. He joined him at the rail facing the viewport, where the captain
had returned after Maeute left. They gazed out at the stars together, and when
the timing was right, Hugh said quietly, "Sir, I hope you know that you're
not alone. When the P'Trell arrives, I'll be breaking regulation along
with you."
Will turned
his head and glanced appreciatively at the younger man. "I'm glad you said
that, because I was going to ask you and some of the others to risk your jobs,
your freedom, and possibly your lives to join me. That's a hard thing to ask.
Especially from a crew that barely knows me."
"We
trust you, Captain. And we feel the same way you do. None of us wants to sit
here and wait while our ship is being hijacked.
Will offered
him a slight grin. "You're a good man, McCoy."
A moment of
silence passed as they stared out at the stars again, lost in their own
thoughts. Hugh then found the guts to inquire about something that he had
wanted to know ever since he discovered he would be serving with the reputable
William T. Riker. "Sir, may I ask a personal question?"
Will nodded.
"Why did
you turn down three opportunities to command a ship until this one?"
Riker raised
his eyebrows and glanced at the younger man, then returned his attention to the
depths of space. "I've asked myself that same question countless times.
The only thing I ever came up with, which sounds corny as hell, is that I was
at home on the Enterprise. Comfortable. I liked my crew, I liked my
position and I figured I would inherit Starfleet's flagship once Picard
accepted promotion to admiral. Sure, it would take longer than I thought I was
willing to wait, but the payoff in the end, to be the captain of the Enterprise,
with the crew I knew I was comfortable with, was worth it. Of course the old
coot never did give up that chair."
Hugh laughed.
"And I
was forced to look at all the years I had wasted and promotions I had turned
down waiting for that seat."
"Not
wasted years. You gained a lot."
Will smiled.
"You're right. Wasted is the wrong word. I wouldn't trade a day of
it."
"You
didn't mention the one reason that I thought motivated you the most."
"And
that would be ...?"
"Deanna
Troi."
Riker sighed
loudly and ran his hand through his hair. "You'd think I was a real idiot
if I said that."
"But
it's true?" Hugh egged on, already knowing the answer.
There was a
moment of tense silence when Hugh thought he must have crossed some invisible
line. He was internally cursing himself when Will finally answered. "What
kind of man would I be if I gave up all of my ambitions for love?"
Relieved to
hear the levity in the captain's voice, McCoy said, "A man with a big
heart."
"Don't
tell anyone. They'll never respect me."
"They
won't hear it from me, sir."
At that
moment, Maeute returned with a huge, triumphant smile. "We have clearance
for ten of us to leave Epsilon Station at 1600 hours provided the P'Trell
authorizes our boarding. The admiral wishes ancestral blessings on us
all."
Will could
have kissed her at that moment. It didn't mean that he would get his ship back,
but at least he could take some form of action without suffering a
court-martial afterwards.
Shret did the
kissing instead. "I knew you would do it, Mae," he cooed.
Riker reached
out a hand and gave her a hearty pat on the shoulder. "Later I want to
know how. But at this moment, we have less than an hour to get packed and ready
to leave. Let's move, people!"
Chapter 3
By Vicky
Ensign
Elizabeth Holman was a member of the acclaimed crew of the U.S.S. Enterprise-E.
Her specialty was linguistics and during her four-year tenure aboard the
Federation's flagship she was able to hone her skills, showing her prowess in
quickly learning alien languages that would baffle her peers. Elizabeth's
talents were unmatched and she was in demand during a majority of the Enterprise's
missions.
She was in
line for a rank promotion. She was in line to become head of the department.
There was only one problem.
Elizabeth
Holman was dead.
* * * * *
Ensign Ferris
had finally calmed Lyda down enough that the young girl's tears had subsided
and she was resting comfortably with her head in Joslynn's lap. It had taken
almost twenty-five minutes for the two of them to reach this point, and it had
been far from easy.
Joslynn
inhaled deeply, quietly knocking her head against the wall behind her several
times. By nature Lyda was a high-strung, dramatic child. In stressful
situations those personality traits skyrocketed ten-fold. Sometimes more - like
earlier. She cried, she worried, she rambled and all the while Joslynn held her
close, allowing her to vent her fears, her frustrations, her concerns.
It was all
Ferris could do to reassure Lyda that her father was going to triumph over evil
without breaking down herself. Sark was her best friend, one of the only people
who understood her, really knew what she was about. And aside from Sark,
Joslynn was the person Lyda was closest to.
Joslynn's
thoughts wandered back to a happier time in her life. About a year into her
friendship with Sark she was having dinner with him and Lyda. Lyda was six
years old and full of questions, especially about the new woman who had become
such a big part of her father's life. With naked honesty, the little girl looked
at Joslynn, looked at her father and asked if they were going to get married
and if she was going to have a new mother. Joslynn almost choked on her
mouthful of vegetables while Sark stifled a laugh and kissed his friend on the
cheek. "What do you think of that, honey?" he'd asked, his smile
growing wider. Swallowing hard, Joslynn gave a nervous chuckle before
suggesting they consider themselves the "three musketeers" instead.
Ferris and
the Ibrics agreed and had been following the motto "all for one and one
for all" ever since. What if moments like that never happened again?
Will Riker had chosen the team he planned on taking with him aboard the P'Trell.
Now he was in the process of informing the individuals of his decision. Having
finished his conversations with Lieutenants McCoy and Scott, Riker walked down
a corridor of Epsilon Indi Station in search of his pilot.
Ferris, Will thought, his
teeth unconsciously grinding together. I want the best, but she comes at the
cost of occasional insubordination and constant aggravation. Unfortunately, the
best is rarely the easiest. Even if he didn't particularly care for Joslynn
as a person he had to admit she was an exceptional pilot and her skills could
come in handy once their mission to recover the hijacked Titan began.
The captain
found his officer, eyes closed, sitting on a bench at the end of the hallway,
the chief engineer's daughter lying next to her with her head in Joslynn's lap.
He gently cleared his throat to announce his presence. Ferris' eyes immediately
snapped open at the sound. She blinked once to clear her mind and turned her
head to the left.
Not wanting
to disturb the sleeping child Will gave the woman a 'come here' gesture with a
single finger. Joslynn looked between him and Lyda a couple of times before
carefully lifting the girl's head from her lap and repositioning it on the
bench. Standing, the pilot smoothed her uniform before walking the few meters
to Riker's side.
"I have
a proposition for you," he said as he started moving down the corridor
toward the remaining officers.
Riker noticed
how the woman continued looking over her shoulder as they moved away from the
bench. As he explained the mission he wanted her to be a part of, he wondered
if he'd ever have her complete attention, even for something as important as
this. Stopping, he placed a tentative hand on the younger officer's shoulder
and turned her toward him. "What's on your mind?"
* &* * * *
Commander
Jareth Holman materialized in an empty transporter room aboard the Titan.
He extracted his own hypospray from a uniform pocket and injected himself with
the appropriate antidote to Quinze-Trojazine. He knew better than to exit the
transporter room without protection, knowing the fate that awaited the
Starfleet crew aboard the ship.
Stepping off
the platform and crossing to the exit, he tapped his communicator. "Holman
to Tralisse."
"Meet me
on the Bridge," came the answer to his unasked question.
"I'll be
there shortly," he replied before severing the connection.
The doors
swooshed open before him and he turned right. Walking through the Titan's
corridors reminded Holman of the last time he was aboard a Federation starship.
One that wasn't under construction.
Jareth had
visited his only daughter - his only child - eight months ago when her ship was
in the same sector as the Epsilon Indi Shipyards. He had spent two days
traveling on a small transport vessel only to spend a mere five hours with
Elizabeth before the Enterprise needed to embark on its next mission.
During that
time, father and daughter toured the lower decks catching up on each other's
lives. She talked about her participation in the surveillance group of a first
contact planet. He talked about his recent work on the Titan, the first
in a wave of newly-commissioned starships.
Elizabeth had
been a casualty of war. A war that, in Holman's opinion, should never have
happened in the first place. It was personal, he thought to himself. That
bald-headed son of a bitch should have fought the war alone. It wasn't anything
my dear Elizabeth should have been involved with.
She had died
when the Enterprise battled the Reman Warbird Scimitar. In a last
ditch effort to save humanity, Captain Jean-Luc Picard ordered a head-on
collision with the enemy ship. Several hull breaches occurred as a result of
the crash and Elizabeth was blown into space with no hope of survival.
Months of
counseling couldn't curb the nightmares that continued to plague Holman even
now. The thought of his little girl adrift in the vacuum of space - her blood
boiling, her lungs exploding, her blood pressure ripping through her skin - was
too much for him to bear. Her silent screams, never to be heard by anyone,
haunted his sleep. Albeit brief, her death was horrifying and painful. One he would
wish on his worst enemy: Picard.
* * * * *
The two
technicians that beamed aboard with the large crate carried it down the hallway
and entered a turbolift. The taller of the two commanded the lift to deck
eleven, where they would unload their cargo.
* * * * *
"Okay,
the antigen is circulating through the life-support system," Aria Braz
said, making a final keystroke on the Sickbay computer panel before her.
"Now we
wait," Reyllt added from behind her.
"No,"
she corrected with an admonishing finger raised, "Now we go to the Mess
Hall to assess the situation. Don't give me any of this passive Vulcan
mumbo-jumbo, Reyllt. The crew's going to be regaining consciousness soon and
you know damn well they're going to need our help to get out."
The doctor
could feel herself slowly gaining confidence. No amount of Academy emergency
training or holodeck simulation programs could adequately prepare her for a
situation like this, but she tried her best to keep things in perspective; to
keep her wits about her. At least she wasn't alone.
Reyllt gave
her a deep sigh and set his lips in a firm line. "Doctor, need I remind
you about the danger we face? We do not know how many captors are on board or
what they have done to the remaining officers. It would be illogical for the
two of us to try and mount a rescue attempt."
"But
we've got to do something!" Braz's voice became shrill, a sound Reyllt
never cared for. She ran her hands through her dirty blonde hair in
exasperation, finally resting them on her hips. Her eyes were dark, mirroring
the frustration she felt.
Several
seconds passed before Reyllt spoke again. "I'm leading."
"Fine by
me," the doctor nodded vigorously. Both medics picked up their tricorders
and phasers, holstering the instruments on their belts before Reyllt led the
way back to the access tunnel's hatchway.
Before
climbing inside, Reyllt removed his combadge from his chest and tossed it on
the floor. "I suggest you do the same, sir," he said. "If the
Romulans try to track us, it will be more difficult without our
communicators."
Ditching her
badge as well, Aria stepped through the hatch and quietly pulled the door shut
behind them. Fear raced through her body, through every muscle and nerve at a
speed the doctor couldn't even begin to imagine. There was no turning back now.
Reyllt opened
his tricorder and pulled up a schematic of the ship's system of Jefferies
tubes. "We are fortunate Sickbay is on the same deck as the Mess Hall,
albeit on the opposite side of the ship. It should not be a long journey,"
the nurse whispered over his shoulder.
"As long
as we don't run into trouble it won't be," Aria returned with a frown he
couldn't see.
* * * * *
Tralisse
entered the Bridge and strode to the command chair with purpose. She brushed
past the male guard at Tactical, barely acknowledging his presence. Her mind
was focused on one task and would not be distracted until it was complete.
Tapping the
communications control on the left armrest, Tralisse cleared her throat before
addressing the figure that appeared on the viewscreen before her.
"What is
your status?" Tal'aura's image inquired.
"On
schedule," Tralisse replied as she clasped her hands behind her back.
"We've set course for Romulus and should rendezvous with you in
twenty-nine hours."
"And the
Federations?"
"Captured
and held in a disruptor field."
"All of
them?"
The smallest
of hesitations escaped and Tralisse cursed herself for the slip. True leaders
did not allow themselves a second of uncertainty.
"All
of them?" the figure asked again.
"No,"
Tralisse relented. Her jaw clenched in frustration at the fact that her crew
had failed her. Especially when she was the one who would take the blame.
"We're still looking for two."
Tralisse
watched as Tal'aura paced back and forth in her apartment. It was obvious that
the leader of the Fvai dissidents was none too happy with the realization that
there were Starfleet officers hidden somewhere in the bowels of the Titan.
Tal'aura
stopped her irritated pacing and faced Tralisse once again. "Find
them!" Tal'aura forcefully ordered before abruptly ending the conversation
with the push of a button.
"Imirrhlhhse!"
Tralisse screamed, slamming her hand against the back of the command chair.
* * * * *
The Fvai technicians
entered Engineering and deposited the crate in the middle of the floor near the
central control console.
"Desan,"
V'Dyk ordered the other man, "get the device unpacked while I re-calibrate
the navigational shield array. You should be able to find a power connection
easily enough."
"Aye,
sir." Desan squatted next to the case and popped open the latch. Reaching
inside, he pulled out the piece of machinery and set it on the ground next to a
wall panel. He removed the panels to expose the circuitry inside it. Within
minutes, Desan had the mission-essential machinery connected to the Titan's
power supply.
* * * * *
Commander
Holman strode onto the Bridge and was met by a furious Tralisse barking orders
in Romulan to her combadge. "All guards search the ship! I want those
unaccounted for officers found now! If not, fear my consequences."
She ended the
transmission and furiously paced the command center. "Problem?"
Holman asked with a casual air though what he felt inside at the sight of her
rage was anything but.
"Two
Federations are missing," Tralisse snapped in Standard.
Holman walked
over to the Operations console at the front of the Bridge and pulled up a menu.
"Have you tried scanning the ship for them?" Not waiting for an
answer, he keyed in the parameters and allowed the computer to execute the
search.
His lips
curled up into a self-satisfied grin despite his efforts to contain it. He
faced Tralisse once more, "They're in Sickbay."
"That's
already been checked. It was empty." She pushed past him to see the
computer read-out for herself. There was no way Sickbay was occupied.
"It
might have been empty when your troops originally checked, but there are two
life-signs there now."
A slight
trace of hope creeping into her mind, Tralisse pushed a button on the console,
directing her guards to Sickbay. The missing Titan officers would soon
be transferred to the Mess Hall and put inside the disruptor field with their
comrades.
"You can
thank me later," he added as his smile grew wider.
The
commander's cocky attitude was the last thing Tralisse needed at that moment.
Without hesitation she pulled a disruptor from her belt and pointed it at him.
Holman's eyes grew wide with fear and his hands immediately rose. "N-now
calm down, Commander," he stuttered. "I misspoke. What I meant
was--"
"I don't
need any of your kllhwnia right now, Holman," she seethed. "At
this point you are disposable. All I really needed you for was to get this ship
out of dock, which is done." She moved forward and tapped the tip of the
weapon to his chest. "If I were you, I'd keep my comments to myself unless
asked for."
Holman
visibly gulped back the lump in his throat and nodded his head ever so
slightly.
"Understood?"
The cold fire
in her eyes burned into his soul, leaving a permanent scar. "Y-yes."
* * * * *
"Captain,
you know I wouldn't be making a request like this unless I felt it was
something important." Joslynn took a deep breath. "I realize it's
breaking protocol but you have to understand the situation she's in."
Riker
continued to listen, folding his arms over his chest.
"She's
already lost her mother and her father's missing, being held hostage by an
unknown terrorist group ... or worse."
Ferris stared
out the viewport to her left. She fought back another bout of emotion before
making eye contact with the captain again.
"Right
now I'm the only sense of stability Lyda has. I just think ... no, I know
she needs me. And I also know you need me, my help and my piloting
skills."
"I'll
take responsibility for you," a voice spoke from behind.
"What?"
Joslynn
turned around to find Shret stepping closer, compassion and determination in
his yellow eyes.
"If
Captain Riker consents to bringing Lyda on board the P'Trell I'll take
responsibility for her. I'll keep her safe and out of harm's way."
"What
about Emor?" Riker asked.
Shret gave
him a small smile. "Let me worry about Emor."
A surge of
hope raced through Joslynn's body as she looked to Riker. "Sir?"
Will
uncrossed his arms and gave the other two a nod of acquiescence. "Agreed.
But," he pointed to Joslynn, "make sure Lyda understands she won't be
with you all the time and you," he pointed to Shret, "make sure she
stays out of trouble."
The ensign
gave Riker an affirmative nod and a slight smile of thanks before turning on
her heel to relay the news to Lyda.
* * * * *
He tapped his
communicator. "V'Dyk to Tralisse."
"Go
ahead."
"The
cloaking device is installed. All we need now is your authorization to make it
operational."
Tralisse
didn't even hesitate, "Do it."
"Yes,
sir," V'Dyk answered. "Engaging cloak."
* * * * *
Trying to
lighten the tension-filled atmosphere, Aria asked, "Why do they use
grating on the floor of these tunnels? Don't the ship designeres realize it's
murder on the knees?"
"Perhaps,"
Reyllt replied, "it is to encourage the engineers to keep ship's functions
operating at peak efficiency. That way they can avoid being in the Jefferies
tubes unless absolutely necessary."
"Always
the logical one."
The pair
crawled along several more meters before Reyllt came to a sudden halt at a
tunnel junction. "Whoa!" Aria said is a hoarse whisper as he momentum
carried her forward and caused her to collide with Reyllt's backside.
"Sorry,
sir," the nurse tossed over his shoulder while he consulted the readings
on his tricorder. "I seem to have come to a point of indecision."
Braz rocked
back on her heels, giving her palms a much-needed break from the coarse
grating. "What do you mean?" she asked.
The cramped
space of the access tunnels didn't allow either medic much maneuverability.
Moving his left arm around his body, Reyllt passed the tricorder behind him
while he explained their situation. "Turning right or left will get us to
the Mess Hall. One way leading to the front of the room, the other leading to
the back. Which do you think would give us a more advantageous position?"
"Well,"
Aria studied the Titan's map on the small screen in her hand. "Can
we get any sort of life-sign reading? That might help us make a decision."
Somehow,
Reyllt had successfully managed to turn himself around, allowing the two of
them to be face-to-face. "The tricorder is reading multiple life-signs,
but I cannot pinpoint that information to a specific location from our current
position. We need to get closer."
"Are you
right handed or left?"
Reyllt raised
an eyebrow at the peculiar question. One that had absolutely nothing to do with
their current conundrum or the need to solve it. "I am right handed,
but--"
Braz cut off
the rest of his sentence. "Then right it is," she directed with a
hand gesture. "Turn yourself around and let's go."
Chapter 4
By Shasta
It had been
quiet in the Mess Hall for some time. Deanna watched the guards for a moment,
then turned back to her crew. The tension and fear from everyone in the room
felt like a huge burden weighing on her back.
She slowly
approached Sharpclaw. "Lieutenant?"
He straightened,
ears quivering in anticipation. Answering her in a low voice, he said,
"Yes Commander?"
"Before
our captors left, I overheard them say two of our crewmembers are unaccounted
for."
Sharpclaw's
yellow eyes widened. He quickly scanned the room. "That is correct. Chief
Medical Officer Braz and Head Nurse Reyllt are not here."
"Then
there is hope," she said. Troi relaxed and stretched out with her mind to
find the missing officers. Unfortunately, all the emotion-filled minds in the
room with her made that impossible. It was going to take a full telepath to
find them.
Deanna
thought for a moment, trying to remember whom among them was telepathic. Her
eyes fell to the transporter chief, Xander Yavan.
Once again,
she made her way through the crew and found the officer in question.
He smiled as
she approached. "Hello, Commander Troi. I sense you need some
assistance."
"Yes, in
fact, I do," she answered. "Chief, we are missing two crewmen and I
need your help to find them. Do you feel well enough to give it a try?"
"I still
have a bit of a headache, but I'd be happy to assist you," Xander replied.
He closed his eyes and reached out in every direction with his senses.
After a
moment, his dark eyes popped open. This time, he sent a thought to Deanna.
::Forgive me for the intrusion, Commander. They are very close! Close enough
that we can warn them of the disruptor field. Play along with me.::
She gasped at
the unexpected voice in her mind, then nodded.
Xander
thought for a moment then took a deep breath. "Commander, do you think
there is any hope of us escaping?"
Deanna
answered, "I don't know." She looked around and saw Sark nearby.
"Mr. Ibric, could you help us? We have a question about the disruptor
field."
"Sure,"
he said, "what's the question?"
"It's a
hypothetical question," Yavan replied. "Would a person on the other
side of this disruptor field be able to disarm it?"
Sark gave a
confused look to Deanna. "I don't see why they couldn't--"
The guard
that replaced Tralisse had felt the slight brush of Xander's mind earlier. He
ignored it at first, until the silence was broken among the prisoners. He heard
was sounded like a discussion between the captain's wife and a couple other
captives.
He looked
toward the group and recognized the transporter chief from when he beamed onto
the ship. "Hey you! Be silent!"
Troi observed
how the crew reacted to the yelling guard. Since no one could understand him,
the tension in the room suddenly increased, almost choking her with its
intensity.
The guard
yelled again, aiming his weapon at the transporter chief. "You! Get away
from her!"
Xander stayed
where he was, giving the captor a defiant look.
"You
were a problem earlier," the Romulan sneered, firing his weapon.
Everyone
dodged away from the blast. Xander wasn't fast enough and was hit full in the
chest. He collapsed onto the floor.
When Deanna
didn't hear the sound of Yavan's body being disintegrated, she turned back and
knelt beside him. Thankfully, the guard's weapon had been set to stun.
She met the
guard's eyes with an angry glare, all the while hoping their message had been
heard.
* * * * *
Hugh McCoy,
Caitlyn Scott and Joslynn Ferris looked on as their captain spoke with one of
the Epsilon Indi officers. After a few moments, the officer left and Captain
Riker turned back toward the viewport, leaning against the brass rail in front
of it.
Caitlyn shook
her head, causing her braid to fall over one shoulder. "He's taking this
really hard."
"I don't
think that's much of a surprise," Hugh said, leaning against the wall.
"The love of his life is missing."
Joslynn
scoffed, making a sound at the back of her throat. "Which one, the ship or
his wife?"
He turned his
head toward her. "His wife, of course. I figured you of all people would
understand that since your best friend is also on the Titan."
"You
don't need to remind me of that, McCoy." Joslynn stopped and glanced over
her shoulder at the chief engineer's daughter. Lyda was sitting on a bench several
meters away, tapping commands into a PADD. She figured the girl was working on
a new holodeck program.
Caitlyn
observed the direction of her friend's gaze. "Jos, how's Lyda holding
up?"
"She's
doing a little better. All of her attention is concentrated on going onboard
the P'Trell now," she smiled.
"I bet
she's excited about that," Hugh said. "However, I wouldn't endanger a
child by taking her aboard a battleship."
"Well,
if the situation was different, I wouldn't." Ferris sent him a penetrating
gaze. "Her mother is dead and her father is lost with the Titan.
The last thing Lyda needs is to be left alone."
Hugh crossed
his arms. "She wouldn't be alone. I believe I heard Shret say he'd watch
her."
"That's
right." Joslynn leaned toward Hugh, "He'll watch her while on the P'Trell.
Not here."
"Yeah,
another life put in danger's way," he said. "They should both be left
here. We don't know what we're getting into once we leave!"
Caitlyn moved
between the two. "Hugh does have a good point, Jos, but please don't get
started now. We'll have plenty of time to dish out our petty differences
later." She looked from one to the other. "When this is over I'll
reserve the holodeck and get you two some boxing gloves, okay?"
Joslynn's jaw
dropped. "I can't believe you're taking his side!"
"I
didn't say that!" Scott started, "Let me finish--"
"No, I'd
rather not hear it." Joslynn rolled her eyes. "I see where you stand.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go check on Ly." She spun on her
heel and walked away from the pair.
"Sometimes
talking to Joslynn is almost as dangerous as playing with fire," McCoy
said.
"I know,
but she's got a lot on her mind. We don't know what happened to the rest of the
crew after the Titan was taken." Caitlyn watched her friend interact
with the girl. "I mean, if we look at it realistically, Lyda could very
well be an orphan now."
"That's
true, but Joslynn acts as if she's the only one to suffer for the hijacking and
she's not." Hugh ran a hand through his brown hair. "I wish there was
some way we could get along, but that's a two way street and it seems like her
side is closed."
Both turned
at the sound of someone approaching. It was Captain Riker. "Lieutenant
Scott, Lieutenant McCoy, the P'Trell has arrived and is ready to take us
onboard. Tell Ensign Ferris and get your things together. Commander Asketen and
I will meet you in Transporter Room Eight in ten minutes."
"Aye,
sir," they answered in unison.
* * * * *
Aria and
Reyllt continued quietly through the Jefferies tube toward the Mess Hall.
Reyllt paused
for a moment to check his tricorder. "We have approximately ten meters to
the Mess Hall." He punched a series of commands into the device.
"Interesting. There are only twenty-five life-form readings inside.
Earlier there were twenty-seven."
Aria's brow
furrowed. "That's not good. I wonder what happened to the other two."
"Unknown,"
he answered, "but there is evidence of disruptor fire. I suppose it is
possible they have been killed."
Her stomach
clenched at the insight. "How many guards are posted there?"
"I am
reading two Romulan signatures." Reyllt holstered his tricorder. "I
think we should get closer in order to have a better look at the
situation."
"Lead
the way."
They crawled
through the tube until they were right outside the Mess Hall's back wall.
Reyllt was
about to open the hatch when he felt a slight tickle in his head. He stopped
for a moment and heard someone talking.
Aria saw him
pause. "What are you waiting for?" she whispered.
He put a
finger to his lips in a silencing gesture. He recognized the counselor's voice,
but was unsure of the other voices he heard.
"...
help us? We have a question about the disruptor field."
"Sure,
what's the question?"
"It's a
hypothetical question. Would a person on the other side of this disruptor field
be able to disarm it?"
"I don't
see why they couldn't--"
Reyllt heard
the Romulan guard yelling, followed by a weapon discharge.
Braz also
heard the blast. "We've got to get them out before everyone's
killed!" she whispered frantically.
He turned to
Aria. "I believe they know we're here."
"The
hijackers?!" Her eyes widened in fear.
"No,"
he whispered, "our crewmates. Before the blast, Counselor Troi and a few
other personnel were talking. Obviously, we should not go in this way. There
appears to be a disruptor field inside the room." He met her eyes.
"Since we do not know where it starts, there is a chance we would be
killed instantly."
"How in
the world are we going to get them out?"
Reyllt opened
his tricorder again and glanced at the readings. With a mischievous glint in
his eye, he said, "I have a plan."
* * * * *
Subcommander
Jei met four of his guards outside Sickbay. "What are we doing here, sir?
We checked Sickbay not long ago," said Tanis.
"I know,
but Commander Tralisse says there are two life-signs in here." He hefted
his disruptor up. "Let's get this over with."
The doors
opened and the Romulans filed in, disruptors at the ready. The leader gestured
for the others to spread out.
After a
moment of searching, one called out, "Sir! I think I found our
'life-signs.'"
Jei stomped
over to the guard that called out. He saw the combadges the other held out to
him. "Great." He looked at the younger man. "Where did you find
there, Thelak?"
"Over
here." Thelak led the subcommander over to the area where the objects were
found.
Jei looked
around. "This looks like a hatch." He felt around the panel on the
wall and found the release. "They've gone into the repair crawlways."
The subcommander
tapped his combadge. "Commander, we've secured Sickbay and found two
Starfleet combadges. It appears our missing Federations have escaped into the
crawlways."
On the
Bridge, Tralisse angrily turned toward Holman. "How do we find them
now?"
Holman
suddenly felt light-headed. "I-I don't know!" He checked the console
again. Swallowing hard, he looked back to Tralisse.
She tapped
her combadge. "Subcommander, send a few of your men after the Federations
and keep a guard by the hatch in Sickbay. We don't want to give our captives
that advantage."
"Understood,
Commander. Jei out."
He turned to
his men. "Tanis, you and N'Ket go into the crawlway. Thelak, you stay here
and make sure the Federations don't leave this way. I will go back to the Mess
Hall to make sure our captives are still in their cage."
* * * * *
The Titan
crew materialized onboard the P'Trell. The low lighting made Will pause
for a time, allowing his eyes to adjust. He looked around, noticing how alien,
yet familiar, the transporter room appeared. The coloration of the room was
what caught his attention. The transporter pad and the console were dark shades
of red, while the rest of the room appeared to be sandy brown in color.
Will's eyes
stopped on the Andorian in a brilliant white, well-armored uniform.
"Captain Emor?"
She nodded,
"Yes, Captain Riker, I am Emor. Welcome aboard the P'Trell."
Giving him a slight smile, Emor continued, "I am sorry we couldn't meet
under more pleasant circumstances. My crew is already in the process of
tracking the emission stream left by the Titan."
"Thank
you, Captain," he replied as he stepped off of the platform. Will held his
hand out to her. "I appreciate your help."
She shook his
hand. "Well, had it been anyone else, I probably wouldn't have." Emor
glanced over his shoulder to her mates, then back to Riker. Her antennae swayed
in amusement. "But, you are very welcome."
Will heard
the others stepping down from the transporter pad and he moved aside to
introduce his crew. "Captain Emor, my officers. Lieutenant Scott,
Lieutenant McCoy, Ensign Ferris and Ibric Lyda."
Maeute and
Shret were last and greeted their wife with a hug and antennae touch. Riker
smiled at the display, even though it painfully reminded him of the missing
half of his soul. "I think you know my first officer and her
husband."
"Yes,"
she said, smiling. "Indeed I do! Now that we've gotten the introductions
out of the way, shall we try to find your ship?"
"With
all speed." Will was past ready to be underway. "First, Captain, may I
use your comm system to contact Starfleet?"
"My ship
is at your disposal," she replied, "Within reason, of course."
"Of
course," he repeated.
That said,
Emor turned to one of her junior officers that appeared to be standing guard at
the door. "Shakai, take the Titan officers to their temporary
quarters, with the exception of Commander Maeute and Shret. You will take them
to mine."
The
copper-clad officer straightened, then bowed to his superior. "Aye,
Captain Emor. It will be done." He turned to the others,
"Follow." Spinning on his heel, Shakai marched through the door.
Riker nodded
to his officers and they quickly followed the Andorian into the corridor.
Emor turned
to Will, "If you will follow me, Captain, I will take you to my Armory so
you can make your call."
Will followed
Emor through the dark grey corridors of the P'Trell. They entered a
turbolift and she ordered it to the Bridge.
Once they
were out of earshot from others, Emor spoke, "I understand your wife was
aboard the Titan when it was taken."
He jerked his
head toward her. "That's right."
"All the
more reason to find your ship." She appraised him with her gold eyes.
"You seem to be holding together well."
Riker's
eyebrows knitted. "You have no idea."
"I
understand your need to find your loved one," Emor said. "I would do
the same for any of my spouses."
The lift
stopped and a split second before the door opened, Emor stepped away from him,
as if nothing happened. She entered the Bridge with Will close behind. Emor
guided him to a door on the left and punched in an access code.
The door
swooshed open and she moved aside, allowing him into the room. "The screen
is on the far wall. I think you know how to operate it." She gave him a
small smile. "Take all the time you need, Captain."
He nodded to
her. "Thank you again, Captain Emor."
When she
left, Will took a quick look around the Captain's Armory. Weapons and armor of
all kinds were displayed on the walls. Several pieces were ornately decorated,
making him think they were probably for ceremonial use.
What stood
out most was the lack of any chairs in the room, and a desk for that matter. He
did notice there were a couple of hammock-chairs like he had seen in Maeute and
Shret's quarters. Will was tempted to try to take a seat in one, but the
thought of busting his ass right before contacting his superiors didn't appeal
to him. He sighed.
Approaching
the computer screen, Will punched in the code to contact Starfleet. In a few
moments, the United Federation of Planets logo appeared onscreen, followed by
the image of Admiral Kathryn Janeway.
"Hello,
Captain Riker." She had a bemused smirk, "I was wondering when you'd
call."
"Hello,
Admiral. Some of my crew and I are currently on the Andorian dreadnought P'Trell.
We're awaiting orders concerning the theft of the Titan."
She sighed
and leaned toward the screen. "First, I need to give you a little
information about the hijackers."
"Please."
"As you
already know, Commander Jareth Holman has defected. He is now working with a
group of Romulan terrorists known as the Fvai Arieynne."
"Shinzon's
followers."
"Exactly.
He blames Picard for the death of his daughter, Elizabeth."
"Blames
Picard?" Will's brow furrowed. "Wait ... she was killed in the battle
between the Enterprise and the Scimitar. What does that have to
do with the Romulan terrorists? You'd think he'd blame them as much as, if not
more than, Captain Picard."
"That's
true," Janeway nodded. "From the little bit of information we've been
able to gather so far, it appears Holman thinks Picard should have dealt with
Shinzon alone and not gotten the rest of the ship involved."
"Great.
And with me being the former first officer of the Enterprise, that just
made the Titan fair game."
"You
could say that." She leaned back in her chair. "As for his defection,
we've found evidence pointing toward the possibility that Holman is insane. If
that is the case, it probably didn't take much for the Romulans to lure him to
their cause - to convince Holman they were victims like him. That Shinzon and
Picard destroyed their world and their lives as well as his."
The thought
of Holman being delusional was far from comforting. What could be happening on
the Titan? Will rubbed his hand over his face. "So, Admiral, what
are my orders?"
"The
obvious is to do whatever it takes to recover the Titan and get Holman
into custody. We're sending the Nefertiri and the Okame to help
with the search, but you'll be on your own until they can rendezvous with the P'Trell.
That should be about six hours." She paused a moment. "If you can't
get the Titan back, it must be destroyed."
"What?!"
He felt his whole body go numb. "Admiral, with all due respect--"
Janeway
raised a silencing hand. "Captain, think of the consequences if the Titan
falls into enemy hands. Terrorists, at that. She's a top-of-the-line
Akira-class warship."
All Will
could do was stare at Admiral Janeway.
After a short
silence, the admiral continued, "I'm sorry, Will. You and Counselor Troi,
along with the rest of the crew, knew the risks when you joined Starfleet. The Titan
cannot be allowed into the hands of the enemy regardless of your feelings
towards those onboard. I'm sorry."
Everything
Janeway said made sense. Riker tried to keep the emotion out of his voice when
he finally answered. "Understood, sir."
"Good.
Janeway out."
The screen
when black and Will felt even emptier because of the realization that he may
have to destroy everything that ever had any meaning to him. There had to be a
way to get Deanna and the Titan back. He'd make a way.
* * * * *
"Come,
Doctor. If we intend to free the crew, we need to go back a little way."
Reyllt typed some commands into his tricorder and turned around in the narrow
space.
"Where
are we going?"
"The
best place would be to the junction where we stopped earlier."
"All
right." Aria turned and began retracing their path. "What's going on
in that head of yours?"
"I have
my tricorder recording our conversation as we're moving."
She stopped
to look over her should at him. "Why are you doing that?"
Reyllt
stopped a split second before she did. He smiled. "It's going to be our
distraction."
"Oh."
Braz began crawling again. "We're almost to the fork. Which way do I need
to go?"
"Go to
the left, then take the first hatchway to the right. That should get us to the
counselor's office and far enough away from the guards."
"Okay."
She did as he requested, then asked, "What's your plan for taking out the
guards?"
I will tell
you when we get to our destination."
They entered
the hatchway and Reyllt heard the shuffling sounds of someone coming their way.
"Quickly!" he whispered while turning to close the hatch behind them.
Aria
continued crawling ahead of him and found a Jefferies tube leading to the next
deck up. She stood and climbed the ladder several feet. Her legs were stiff
from all the crawling she'd done, making her slow. Reyllt wasn't far behind. He
barely climbed out of sight when they both heard the sound of the hatch
opening.
They held
their breath.
The Romulans were
talking in hushed voices. After what seemed like an eternity, the sound of the
hatch closing echoed through the passage.
Braz let
several quiet moments pass before talking. "What did they say?"
"They
were trying to determine if we'd gone this way," he replied.
"And?"
"And
they figured our first priority would be to help our friends escape,"
Reyllt answered, "so they went the other direction."
"Good."
Aria let out the breath she was holding. "Let's get to the office and get
his over with!"
* * * * *
It wasn't
long after Riker went to make the call to Starfleet that Maeute came onto the P'Trell's
Bridge.
Emor's
expression softened when she saw her wife exit the turbolift. "Find our
quarters comfortable?"
"Of
course," Maeute smiled. "I have a feeling Captain Riker will be
calling for me soon. I thought I would go ahead and get the long walk behind
me."
"Good
idea. Tell me, what happened to the Titan? I only know what little bit
you told me in your message."
Maeute
crossed her arms. "A Starfleet officer has defected, apparently. He
distracted the captain and me while his minions boarded the Titan."
She sighed. "I had no idea until it was too late."
"Even
the best can be fooled from time to time," Emor said. "We'll get you
back on your ship soon enough."
"I
certainly hope so." She studied the viewscreen for a second before her
combadge chirped. "Commander Asketen here."
"Commander,
I'd like to talk with you for a moment. Please meet me in the Captain's
Armory."
"Duty
calls." She smiled at Emor and walked to the door.
Upon
entering, Maeute noticed that Riker's coloration seemed a bit more pale than
usual. "Yes, Captain?"
He glanced at
her. "I just finished talking with Admiral Janeway. Our orders are to get
Holman into custody and to bring the Titan home." Will paced around
the room. "If we can't take back the ship, she must be destroyed."
Maeute's
antennae twitched in agitation at the news. "Our crew is eager to get the Titan
back, sir. I believe things will go well with our mission."
"I hope so."
He stopped momentarily. "Starfleet is sending the Nefertiri and the
Okame to assist. They should meet with us in about six hours."
Riker resumed pacing.
"That is
good to hear." She observed his frustrated movements. "Is there
anyway I can assist you, Captain? Would you like to talk?"
"I don't
know," Riker said, pausing. "I don't know. I may have to kill
Deanna." He turned and ran a hand through his hair before bringing it up
to rest over his beard. "It's not just that, though. I may have to kill
everyone onboard that ship." He huffed bemusedly, "I haven't even sat
in the captain's chair yet!"
"They
are Starfleet officers and they know how to defend themselves. For all we know,
they may very well retake the ship and bring her home for us!" She gave him
a small smile. "Have no doubt, sir, that we will get the Titan
back. And the crew. You must have faith in them and in their training. Besides,
you haven't seen anything until you've seen what Emor and her P'Trell
are capable of."
"I hope
you're right, Number One." He continued pacing once more. "Assemble
the crew and inform them."
"Aye,
sir. I will do that immediately." Maeute turned and left the room.
The door shut
behind her, she tapped her combadge. "All officers of the U.S.S. Titan
report to the War Room on deck two."
She walked
into the turbolift. "Deck two," she commanded. Maeute took a deep
breath, thinking of how she would pass along the news of their mission.
* * * * *
Reyllt proceeded
to Counselor Troi's office. He came to the hatchway and consulted his
tricorder. Seeing that the room was empty, he opened the hatch a crack and
scanned the room. It was clear.
He crawled
out and helped Dr. Braz as she exited the tunnel.
Aria saw that
Reyllt was punching commands into his tricorder again. "So what's the
plan, Rey?" she asked.
"I am
programming the tricorder to perform a playback loop of our conversation I
recorded earlier." He paused for a moment. "That should distract the
guards long enough for us to render them unconscious."
"And how
do you propose we do that?"
"If
memory serves, I believe there is a slight niche from the corridor that leads
to this office. I will place the tricorder there, with it facing the opposite
way from the Mess Hall." He gave her a mischievous smile. "That
should make them think our voices are coming from further down the hall. With
there only being two guards, it is probable only one will come to see what the
noise is."
"That
sounds like a good idea, but what if they've increased the number of guards? I
mean, we know they're looking for us now."
"As you
humans say, we will 'play it by ear.'"
Aria crossed
her arms. "That's just great."
"It is
ready. What I need you to do is go back into the Jefferies tube--"
"What?!
I'm not going to let you do this alone!"
"You did
not allow me to finish, Doctor." Reyllt placed a hand on her shoulder.
"There is another hatch near the turbolift. You can hear when the lift is
coming and use your tricorder to tell if anyone is around. I need you to come
from the opposite side to stun the second guard."
He pulled up
the schematic and showed her how to get to the other hatch. "It should not
take you long to get there. I will wait approximately five minutes before I set
up my distraction."
Aria sighed
and re-holstered her phaser and tricorder. "Here goes nothing!"
Reyllt
nodded, "Good luck, Aria." His heart fluttered a bit as he watched
her disappear into the tunnel. "Be careful," he whispered after her.
* * * * *
Aria made it
to the hatch without any problems. She scanned the area and the only Romulan
signs were those of the two guards in the Mess Hall. She sat and waited for
Reyllt to begin his diversion.
* * * * *
Reyllt gave
Dr. Braz plenty of time to get to the other hatch and quietly stepped out of
the counselor's office. He was about to place the tricorder down when he heard
someone approaching. Quickly, he flattened himself into a small alcove,
watching as the captors strode by.
He quietly
checked his tricorder and found there were three guards outside the Mess Hall.
Reyllt listened as best he could to the two he heard talking. He understood the
hijackers were presently looking for him and Aria, which was no surprise. He
also caught that they had placed a guard in Sickbay. That could be a problem.
When the
third guard didn't leave after a while, he activated the tricorder. It was now
or never. Against his better judgment, Reyllt slid the instrument down the
hallway instead of setting it in place as in his original plan. He hoped they
wouldn't see it before he could make his move.
He heard the
guards get quiet followed by two pair of footsteps approaching.
Aria checked her tricorder and noticed there were three Romulan signs. Against
her better judgment, she decided to make her move. As quietly as she could, she
slipped out of the crawlway and drew her phaser to the ready. She stayed near
the wall and tiptoed down the corridor.
Her heart was
pounding as she slowly moved her thumb closer to the firing button on her
phaser. Suddenly, she heard Reyllt's voice. Holding her breath, she waited. The
sound of two of the guards leaving caused her to take notice. Carefully, she
snuck around the corner to where she could see the lone guard. She took aim and
fired.
Reyllt was about to jump out at the guards when he heard weapons fire and the
sound of a body slamming onto the floor. He heard one of the Romulans curse and
start to run back toward the Mess Hall.
Quickly,
Reyllt stepped out and stunned him before he could attack or contact anyone.
The second Romulan fired at him and he narrowly dodged out of the way. Reyllt
cried out in pain as he hit the floor hard and rolled.
Aria heard
him call and ran through the corridor, hoping to get there in time. She rounded
the corner and saw the guard taking aim at her comrade.
"No!"
she yelled, firing at the guard. She missed.
The guard
turned to face her and Reyllt took advantage of the momentary distraction. He
reached out, grabbed the other's foot and yanked it out from under him.
The guard
landed with a loud thud and Aria fired again, this time hitting her target.
Breathless,
Reyllt looked up at Aria. "Thank you," he said.
"No
problem." Her heart was still pounding hard from the thought that Reyllt
could've been killed. She reached out a hand to help him up. "Come on, we
probably don't have much time."
He went back
to retrieve his tricorder and took the weapons from the fallen guards before
continuing down the corridor.
Reyllt and
Aria rain into the Mess Hall. They skidded to a stop when they saw the devices
on the floor surrounding their fellow officers.
"Reyllt!
Aria!" Deanna smiled as the two entered.
"Greetings,
Commander," said Reyllt. "The field needs to be disarmed before we go
any further. Who can help us with that?"
Sark came
forward. "I can. We need to figure out a way to reverse the polarity of
the field. What kind of equipment do you have on you?"
Braz spoke
up, "Just our phasers and tricorders. We searched the guards and took
their weapons as well." "Okay." Sark stroked his chin for a
moment. "I think we can manage something. Reyllt, take the outer casing
off of your phaser and, Dr. Braz, if you will, open the back of your tricorder."
After a few
moments of fumbling with the objects, they were opened.
"Now,
what we're going to do is adjust the tricorder so it can emit an
electromagnetic pulse. What you need to do, Reyllt, is look around on the main
circuit board and find the particle stream catalyst. It's a miniature version
of an isolinear chip." He turned toward Aria. "Aria, you need to find
the port where the scanning part of the tricorder plugs in. The plug is black
and should have three wires connected to it."
Reyllt found
the chip and checked the doctor's progress. "Okay, they've been
found," he said.
"All
right. Reyllt, take the chip out of the phaser. Aria, unplug the connector and
put the chip in its place."
"Done."
"Good.
Now, we need to get that scanner reconnected. See if you can take the green
wire out of the plug."
Braz tugged
at the wire for a moment, eventually freeing it. "Got it."
"You two
are doing a great job! What aren't you in engineering?" He laughed
nervously. "Now, seriously, wrap the wire around the end of the particle
stream catalyst and replace the casing."
Sark watched
as the medics put the tricorder back in one piece. "When you open it, the
tricorder should be able to emit an EM pulse, which will short out the field.
I'm not sure of the range. I'd say about ten meters."
Reyllt turned
to Aria. "We should stand back, just in case."
The two
stepped back a few paces and waited for their crewmates to cluster in the
center of their prison.
"Everyone
ready?"
Reyllt waited
for everyone's affirmative before opening the tricorder.
They watched
a glittering silver beam come out of the tricorder toward the disruptor field.
An electric crackling was heard as blue and yellow sparks flew from the devices
that powered the field.
Reyllt stood
still for a moment. "I wonder if it worked."
"Well,"
Aria took the tricorder from him. "There's only one way to find out. Sark,
catch!" She tossed the instrument toward the chief engineer.
There was a
collective gasp.
"Got
it!" He held the tricorder up.
* * * * *
Maeute sat at
the head of the conference table, waiting for the Titan officers to
gather. It wasn't long before they were all assembled, with the exception of
the civilians, Shret and Lyda.
She stood to
address the crew when the doors opened behind her.
Everyone
turned to see Captain Riker walk through the doorway. "Thank you for
getting the crew together, Number One. I think I should be the one to tell them
our orders regarding the Titan."
She nodded to
him and stepped to the side. "As you wish, sir."
Riker
approached the head of the table. "As you may have guessed, our orders are
to retrieve the Titan and to get Jareth Holman into custody." He
took a deep breath. "If we are unable to retrieve the Titan,
Starfleet has ordered us to destroy her - the ship."
Will looked
around at his crew, seeing their amazed reactions as they glanced at one
another.
His gaze
stopped on Ensign Ferris first. Even though they'd already clashed several
times, he could see the concern she tried to hide behind a neutral mask.
Next was Lieutenant
Scott. Will hadn't really talked with her much but hoped to remedy that once
this whole thing was over. He figured the surprise written on her face was
probably close to his reaction when he received the news from Admiral Janeway.
Riker finally
turned to Lieutenant McCoy and smiled inwardly. He and Hugh had become fast
friends. Will could tell by the defiant set of Hugh's jaw that he'd go above
and beyond the call of duty to help get the Titan back.
Will
straightened as he took pride in his officers and continued on, "I know
this is shocking for all of us, but I also know you are among Starfleet's
finest. We can - no - we will get the Titan and our crew back
safely. There are no other options. I won't allow it."
Maeute
watched the response of the others. "Captain, I have no doubt this mission
will be successful. We will bring the Titan home."
Chapter 5
By Opal
"Where's
Jos going?" Lyda complained as the crew left her alone with her temporary
guardian in the transporter room.
Shret helped
her off the transporter pad and smiled as a subordinate entered to greet them.
"Sohcharn, thank you for meeting us." Sohcharn Shakai saluted with a
slight tilt of his antennae and indicated the corridor with his arm. Shret
returned the salute and reached for Lyda's hand as they exited the transporter
room.
She avoided
his grip impatiently. "When can we see Jos?"
Shret's
antennae danced in mild amusement. "When we get to the Bridge."
Lyda
brightened, "Can we go to the Bridge now?"
Shret shook
his antennae and smiled, "Not just yet. They would like us to settle in
first."
Their guide
paused in front of an ornately decorated door of burnished metal inlaid with a
brilliant shade of white. The patterns might have been letters on a secret door
in a castle. Lyda wanted to run her fingers over it, but both adults were
watching her. The sohcharn stopped and saluted more formally with an upraised
fist by his shoulder as Shret turned to the access panel. Lyda looked on as he
quickly spoke to it in Andorian. The door replied easily in a calm female voice
and allowed them inside. The whole exchange was going to be a scene in Lyda's
next holonovel. She was sure of it. "The young princess and her mysterious
guardian use the spell to enter the cave of the dragon queen," she
whispered to herself as Shret ushered her into the captain's chamber.
"I'm
going to see if Gnoe left any food in the kitchen. Do you want anything?"
Lyda tried to
think of an appropriate response but the room demanded too much of her
attention. No furniture graced the front room, which made sense if dragons
landed there. She wandered toward the sleeping room without acknowledging Shret
further.
Lyda jumped
as Shret started singing to himself. As odd as spoken Andorian was, she hadn't
been prepared for the crooning nature of his song. "A dragon ballad,"
she whispered as she reached for the ornate handle on the wall. For a brief
instant her conscience suggested that going through someone's closet might be
interpreted as impolite. That thought was buried when the door opened into a
huge closet full of costumes. It had to be costumes. No one she knew wore these
kinds of things every day.
She took a
step inside and did a quick inventory. On her right were a gleaming white shirt
that seemed to be made out of metal, two pairs of tall black boots and three
rather dull grey outfits that must be uniforms. Uniforms were boring no matter
what culture you came from. Lyda ignored them. In the back was a collection of
off-duty clothes she could certainly use. She reached into the silky fabrics,
both hands outstretched happily.
* * * * *
Deanna knelt
down next to the chief engineer and tried to get used to the faint buzzing that
tickled the back of her neck. "Explain to me again, Commander; why do we
have to talk here?"
Sark finished
escorting the last of the escapees into the junction zone of the Titan's
magnetic field. "This area scatters sensor readings. We've just passed
under the shielded area of the plasma manifold. The noise from the force field
behind us should prevent anyone from overhearing us."
Sharpclaw
shuddered and puffed out his fur in annoyance. "Then I suggest we talk
quickly. I am anxious to get back to the Bridge."
A few scattered
giggles refreshed Deanna's tired mind and she managed the faintest of smiles.
"I'll see what we can do, Lieutenant."
Looking
around the faces of her crew, Deanna couldn't help wondering if she had seemed
that young to Captain Picard on that first Farpoint mission so many years ago.
"I know we've all been through a great deal lately. I wish I could
guarantee that we'll all get home." She took a quiet breath, feeling the
silence around her like a lead cloak, "The Titan must never reach
Romulan space."
Sharpclaw
bared his fangs at the challenge, "The Romulans will pay." Sark
agreed with a curt nod, already lost in his planning.
"It
won't come to that. We have two advantages. One, the Romulans don't yet know
we've escaped. We need to use that surprised. And, most importantly, this is a
Starfleet vessel. We can use every part of it to fight them. We need to remind
them that this is our ship. The Titan can help us."
Dr. Braz
asked the question floating in the faces around her. "How do we
start?"
"The
Bridge--"
"Engineering--"
"Communications--"
Sark put up a
hand and stopped the discussion with a quiet smile. "If you will permit
me?" Deanna smirked faintly; it was good to feel the minds around her
filled with purpose. "We know from the experience of our intrepid medical
team that a small group can more easily elude the Romulans than all of us
together."
"Correct,"
Deanna responded calmly. "First, in order to take back the ship we need to
secure the Bridge." She reached out to brush the minds around her.
Sharpclaw was a knot of honed rage. Lieutenant Tiege and Ensign Erith sat
behind him, two security officers they were lucky to have on the skeleton crew.
"Sharpclaw, Lieutenant Tiege, Ensign Erith. I'll need your help to retake
the Bridge."
Lieutenant
Commander Ibric nodded to a few members of the remaining group. "There six
are engineers. We've just got the warp core online, but I guess we'll shut it
down if we have to."
A shy hand
went up in the rear of the group. "I'll send a distress call. They probably
aren't watching the secondary sensor array in Astrometrics. It won't take long
to reconfigure."
Deanna nodded
again, building the scenario in her head. "Good thinking, Lisa. Ensign
Meiers has some experience with the sensor arrays. You'll take her as back up.
That just leaves our inventive medical staff," Deanna mused as Braz
drifted back from the depths of her plotting.
"I think
we could use the Romulan strategy against them. I'd like to take Reyllt back to
Sickbay. We should be able to work something out," she explained.
Nodding
slowly, the Vulcan nurse agreed. "I will retrieve Chief Yavan from the
Mess Hall. He will be of more assistance to us after we attend to him and he
has recuperated in Sickbay."
Deanna's
smile of gratitude was calming to the entire group. Her crew was pulling
together. "Sharpclaw, Sark, Erith, please accompany me to the Armory. The
rest of you will meet us in the storage locker on deck eleven. You'll find
tricorders and tools there." She glanced around the eager faces that
surrounded her, finding the hope in their eyes far more refreshing than the
doubt in her heart. "The guards won't even know we're out of the Mess Hall
yet. So stay quiet, stay alert and stay safe. We're going to need everyone's
help." Some, like young Ensign Cartwright, managed weak smiles.
Sharpclaw
flexed a clawed foot as if he could see the Romulans in front of him. Sark
nudged him with a brassy smile. "We'll all be ready when you take the
Bridge," the chief engineer assured Deanna cheerfully. "The crew of
the Titan is always ready to serve, Commander."
Deanna
nodded, "We'll be completely out of contact once we've separated. Stick
close together and listen to your team leaders. I'll see you all on the
Bridge." Her quiet confidence visibly bolstered her crew. "We'll show
the captain just how talented his crew is when we hand him his ship back."
Sharpclaw
took point down the hallway. Sark tapped a few commands on the keypad and broke
the security lockdown. "All yours, Commander," he said to Deanna as he
ducked in to grab a few phasers and disappeared into a Jefferies tube opening
in the wall.
Sharpclaw
went straight to the compression phaser rifles. Deanna took his offering
reluctantly. Violence was a weapon she tried to avoid but this was her home. These
terrorists had tried to steal her home and the rifle was a comforting weight in
her hands. Something solid between her and her mortality.
"Let's
show the Romulans why they picked the wrong ship."
* * * * *
"He's
not very charming," Emor complained with a sigh as she settled back into a
hanging chair. "William Riker is supposed to be able to talk his way out
of an Orion prison camp and into bed with the Empress herself. He's a legend in
his own time - the silver-tongued ladies man at Picard's right hand. I'm going
to hate ruining the stories they tell at Fleet Headquarters."
Maeute toyed
with a gertak dagger from the wall and turned her antennae toward Emor in quiet
frustration. "He's not at his best."
Emor reached
a lazy hand for the replicator and took a smoking cup of ahress with a
smile. "I wouldn't be at my best if someone else was at the head of the P'Trell."
The Titan's
first officer twisted her antennae into a smirk and placed the dagger back on
the wall. "You'd be worse."
Shrugging out
of her glistening breastplate, Emor laughed with sudden amusement, "If our
positions were reversed I'd already have tired to kick him out of the captain's
chair?" She stood out of the hammock and hung the jingling metal in its
place on the wall. She breathed in the smoke from the ahress and licked
her lips easily. "You might be right, Mae. Not that I'll ever admit it to
anyone else."
Maeute
fidgeted with the armor her wife had just removed, remembering when her own uniforms
had been heavy with the ceremonial metal. "I appreciate you letting him
keep watch on the Bridge. He would not handle inactivity well."
Still
chuckling to herself, Emor leaned back into her hammock. "He can tell my
crew how to find warp trails and calculate the proper trajectory to Romulan
space as well as I can. Besides, it's been months since I've seen you, Brynaur."
Maeute let
the armor drop back to the wall with a clang. "Don't call me that."
Emor lowered
her cup to the floor and braced herself in the hammock. "Don't?"
"Please
do not," Maeute corrected firmly. "It's a childish name."
Lazy blue
fingers traced down the edge of the hammock, dancing across the end of the
fabric. "That's why it pleases me."
"I could
find other ways to please you." Maeute's hands lowered to her wife's
shoulders, resting there with quiet patience.
Emor kinked
her antennae in a stubborn show of solidarity, "Brynaur is fairly
dear to me."
The Titan's
first officer backed off with twitching annoyance dancing in her antennae.
"I hope it keeps you warm."
Laughing,
Emor threw her hands over the edges of the hammock and rocked with glee.
"That look of yours might do just that." She fanned herself with her hands,
"Maybe even a little too well."
Maeute sighed
in disgust. "You shouldn't tease me," she protested again. "It
doesn't become one in your position."
Emor
continued in a mockery of Maeute's seriousness. "Bryn, you know I
enjoy this position. Lying here, watching you, has always been one of my
favorites."
Her wife
directed her reply at the replicator, calling forth a cup of strong black
coffee. "I don't think I'm even going to answer that."
Leaning her
head over the edge, just enough to rest her chin, Emor grinned wickedly.
"Have I mentioned how nicely Starfleet uniforms flatter your back? You
would think the understated colors would wash out your skin and I thought I'd
hate the high collar at your neck, but it's really growing on me. I think I
know why Starfleet uses them."
"More
revelations from the noted scholar of extraterrestrial fashion?" Maeute
asked over her coffee with bitter sarcasm.
"Really Bryn.
I think I've discovered something here." She wiggled her antennae for
emphasis. "Starfleet designers just appreciate a well proportioned
bum."
Stopping just
before taking a sip had prevented Maeute from choking on her coffee. "And
they let you run an entire ship? Not any ship, but a ship with enough firepower
to stop the Romulans."
"And
you've done it again!" The P'Trell's captain groaned and sat up in
her hammock, antennae moving in slow turns of annoyance. "There goes our
nice discussion about sex. Right back into work. I steal you away for as much
time alone as I can find and we might as well be arguing strategy with Riker on
the Bridge." Emor climbed out of the hammock and tapped an engraved panel
on the wall. "We're ready to talk Romulans, Captain, if you'd care to join
us."
Commander
Asketen shrugged her antennae weakly as the door behind her slid open to reveal
a drawn Captain Riker.
Emor
immediately straightened her posture and reached down to pull her boots back
on, sliding into her tactical rundown without even greeting Will. "A
Romulan D'Deridex warbird has a mass of four-point-three-two million standard
metric tons. A D'Deridex has four photon torpedo launchers and six disruptor
cannons. In battle their weak point is their lack of maneuverability. However,
they make up for that by using their disruptor cannons to cover almost every degree
of sphere around their vessel."
Will waited
politely in the doorway, relieved that Emor has chosen to converse in
Federation Standard. His universal translator would accomodate him, of course,
but he always felt something of the meaning 'lost in translation.' The Andorian
captain pointed Will to a hanging chair and stopped at the replicator.
"Would you like ahress? Or more of that terrible coffe Mae's become
so fond of?"
"Terrible
coffee would be fine," Will replied with slight amusement. "I'm
surprised to find you ready to discuss tactics so soon. Your second--"
"Gor'ann
Tappu Elkiier," Maeute explained quickly. "But you can call him
Tappu."
"Tappu,"
Will continued with a nod, "said you two were catching up."
"Tactics
are more important--" Maeute began, but Emor interrupted her and continued
to talk over her.
"I
thought we were but someone believes we need to talk about Romulans."
Maeute's
antennae twitched and Will recognized it as indignation. His first officer took
a sip of her coffee and corrected her wife, "The Romulans are an immediate
threat. We can 'catch up' later."
Emor mouthed
"always later" to Will and turned to the replicator.
"Coffee," she ordered with a grimace and handed it to him. "Sit.
Talk about Romulans. I'd imagine you'd want to know something about my
ship."
Riker took
his coffee quickly, almost afraid she'd spill it on him. "I've been
reading your technical schematics on the Bridge."
Emor settled
back into her hammock but retained her strict posture. "Did Gnoe translate
the computer terminal for you?"
Caught, Will
shrugged and played with his beard. "No, I haven't been able to find him.
I've been looking at the pictures."
"It's
probably because he's up to his antennae in ion trails and babying his
engines." Emor laughed easily and nodded as Maeute headed for the terminal
on the wall.
The first
officer sighed in chagrin. "If you can read enough to know how to ask for
Federation Standard, you can convince the computer to translate." She
accessed a few subroutines and then found the translation. "It isn't
always a helpful system but at least now it's in Standard."
Will gave it
a glance and smiled broadly, "Those are words I recognize."
"Good,
now--"
Emor cut her
off curtly and crossed to the terminal. "Commander, if you would be so
kind as to keep an eye on my Bridge for me, I'll take it from here."
Maeute paused
for a moment at the doorway, her face tight with frustration. The two women
stared each other down for a brief moment. Will politely directed his attention
to an antique sword on the other side of the room.
Maeute's
antennae bobbed slightly in begrudging agreement. "Of course, Captain. If
you will both excuse me." The door hissed behind her and Emor called up a
full schematic of the P'Trell on the terminal.
"I didn't
mean to interrupt anything between you," Will offered apologetically as
Emor gestured him back to the computer.
"Married
long, Captain?" Blue fingers danced across the computer panel and the
center of the room became a three-dimensional display of the Fesoan
dreadnought.
Will shook
his head as a Romulan warbird and a holographic Titan materialized next
to the P'Trell. "No, just over a year."
Emor tapped
her fingers together anxiously. "Forty-one years. Forty-two in a month.
I've been doing border patrol for the last eight months. I was hoping to make
it back for your launch. Had it not been for the Romulans, I wouldn't have seen
Shret or Bryn until our anniversary."
Will grinned
dryly. "Since the Romulans are already working with your wishes, ask them
to hand over the Titan without a fight and I'll throw in some extra
shore leave for my first officer."
"If it
were that easy ..." Emor sighed wistfully and crossed behind the Romulan
hologram. "I'll start out being the Romulans. I'll come at you with the
warbird first, then I'll use the Titan to outflank you. The P'Trell
will respond to you voice commands, so run it as if you were on the
Bridge."
"All
right," he agreed as he looked over the silver-blue hull of his borrowed
ship. "Shields up."
* * * * *
Joslynn
leaned over Caitlyn's shoulder and whispered, "She looks almost more
annoyed than the captain."
Caitlyn
looked innocently over her shoulder as the Titan's first officer took
the center seat. "How can you tell?" she whispered back.
The Andorian
helm officer stepped aside to report to his first officer and allowed Joslynn
into the chair at the controls. She slid behind the console and gestured
Caitlyn over. "Her forehead gets tight just above her eyebrows when she's
frustrated."
Caitlyn
smiled softly. "I'm not going to ask how you know that so quickly."
"Frustrate
enough command officers and you start to notice the signs," the young
woman replied softly. "Not that I blame her. The Andorians are going to do
all the work and we'll just sit around and watch the battle. I don't even know
where to start on these controls." Joslynn's whispering climbed toward her
normal range of volume. "I think it's the helm, but it has raised buttons.
It looks like something out of an ancient Bajoran starflier; I don't see how it
could possibly control a warship."
Pointing to a
glowing readout, she tugged at the science officer's arm. "What do you
think that is? Current speed or heading?"
Caitlyn
shrugged. "I only know a little about the helm of our ship, let alone this
one. What do you think?"
"I was
ready to call it the heading, but I think this dial over here - with the symbol
that looks like a broken dagger - might be it. I guess that makes it the speed,
but I've never seen a number that looks like that." Ensign Ferris closed
her eyes for a second, trying to get the feel of the deck plates beneath her
feet. "At our current speed I'm going to call that number nine. So, if
they number clockwise, like we do, this must be eight, seven--"
Caitlyn
tapped the symbol to the left of the broken dagger Joslynn had dubbed 'nine.'
"Andor orbits its sun in the opposite direction as Earth. I think this is
eight."
"Good
thinking. Eight is the udouri shell."
* * * * *
Admiral Kathryn
Janeway knew how infuriating it was to lose her ship. Voyager had been
snatched from her several times during its long exile in the Delta Quadrant.
Through the strength of her crew, and a little luck, it was still her ship when
they returned. Now she could only wish Captain Riker the same luck.
"Tuvok?
Do you have Praetor Donatra yet?"
"Yes,
Admiral." Even from the other room she could picture the serene calm on
his face. "The Praetor is ready to speak with you. I am putting her
through now."
Romulan
Praetor Donatra was a sculpture. Perfect black hair tight to her elegant skull,
hard, thin lips, cheekbones high and chisled. Only when she spoke did life
creep into her deep black eyes. "Admiral Janeway, I apologize for keeping
you waiting."
Janeway chose
to smile. "No need Praetor. I can only imagine how complicated the running
of an empire can be."
An arched
eyebrow raised slightly and echoed the Praetor's palpable disdain. "If
only it were that. I am afraid members of the Senate still object to my
speaking with you. Even after the defeat of Shinzon's coup d'etat, some of my
people still wish he had succeeded." She took a moment to recompose
herself and surprised the admiral with a softening of expression.
"Politics of the empire aside, I believe I may be able to help your
Captain Riker."
"Praetor,
anything you can tell us--"
Donatra shook
her head curlty. "I will speak with Captain Riker and Captain Emor
directly. I wish to involve as few people as possible."
Admiral
Janeway smiled with slight hope. "We would be most grateful Praetor."
The faintest
of smiles touched Donatra's black eyes. "Even when I do not agree with
their philosophies, all Romulans are my responsibility."
"Perhaps
someday their philosophies will not be so different."
To Janeway's
great surprise the Praetor's stony face broke into a gentle smile.
"Eternal optimism is becoming my favorite part of humanity. I will speak
with Captain Riker shortly. Romulus out."
* * * * *
"Lyda,
if you would be willing to leave Emor's clothes, I think it's time to see
Joslynn."
The young
Bajoran dropped her purple cape to the floor and stood at attention in the
closet door. "Really?"
Shret smirked
at the pile of clothes on the floor. "I have obtained permission to tour
the ship and I thought we could ask Joslynn to come with us. Do you think she
would like that?"
Lyda nodded
enthusiastically. "Now?"
Shret
indicated the door with an open hand. "You will have to straighten this
mess later, but we can go now."
Lyda was
quiet as the door opened with a low hum, but her voice took on a hysterical
note when the turbolift headed down instead of up. "Aren't we going to the
Bridge?"
Shret brushed
a hand across her head. "We have to pick up our guide first."
"Why do
we need a guide?"
He looked
down at her seriously and lowered himself to her level. "Promise not to
tell anyone?" Lyda nodded. Making doubly sure that no one else was there,
Shret rested his hands on her shoulders. "I'd get lost without one."
"How
could you get lost?"
Bobbing his
antennae ruefully, he straightened his tunic and stood back up. "Mae tells
me I'm quite good at it."
Lyda smiled
shyly as the turbolift opened into Engineering. The Andorian engineers wore
minimal armor and moved about their duties precisely. One close to the turbolift
nodded to them and pointed towards the glow of the warp core. "Chief's in
the back." Shret smiled and started to reply, but their greeter was
already back at work.
Lyda tugged
at his hand, "Who's the chief?"
"See the
man over there, with his head in the panel?" She followed his arm with her
eyes and nodded again. "That's the chief."
At the word
'chief,' a smudged blue face pulled itself out of the panel with a concerned
look that burst into a grin. "I was wondering how long it would take you
to get down here for your tour."
"I've
brought a friend with me. This is Ibric Lyda, my protector." Shret wrapped
an arm around his husband's shoulders and they tangled their antennae.
"Ibric Lyda, this is Gnoe Asketen, the P'Trell's Chief Engineer and
my husband."
"You get
all the pretty girls, don't you?" Gnoe teased Shret as he reached down to
touch Lyda's shoulder. "Welcome to the P'Trell, iari."
The young
Bajoran smiled importantly, "My dad's a chief engineer, too. He teaches me
all about the Titan."
Shret laughed
as Gnoe smiled with gusto. "Now that he knows you're an expert you're
going to have to hear all about warp core injectors and plasma manifolds."
Lyda quickly
made a face. "Maybe you should wait to talk to my dad about those things.
I don't listen that much when he talks about work."
"Neither
does he," Gnoe pointed to his husband with exaggerated disappointment.
"He probably couldn't tell you what the difference is between the impulse
manifold and the warp core." He sighed heavily and shook his head at both
of them. "I guess I'll just have to make do with you two until we get your
dad back. At least then someone will appreciate my engines."
Shret
squeezed his hand and nodded. "We'll let you both ramble on about plasma
injectors until you go hoarse. Won't we?"
Lyda agreed
emphatically, "Yes, we will."
Gnoe shook
his head and changed the subject, "How do you like Emor's ship?"
"She has
nice things in her closet," Lyda replied cheerfully as she stared at the
glowing warp core.
"She has
quite a collection, doesn't she? I tell her it's neither captain-like nor
menacing for her to collect such things," Gnoe joked.
"If
she's captured, at least she'll be prepared to be a dancing girl," Shret
said with a wink. Gnoe chuckled merrily at the old joke. Lyda's curious look
drew a recalcitrant shake of both men's heads. "Someday we'll explain it
to you," Shret replied.
"What's
your favorite part of a starship?" Gnoe asked Lyda, moving the subject to
safer territory.
Engineering
was almost too distracting for her to answer, but the two men flanked her and
took hold of her hands. "The holodeck, I guess," she answered with a
shrug as they led her into the turbolift.
Gnoe
disagreed with a dancing wave of his left antennae. "Holodecks are not
unique to starships. In fact, even stuck-in-the-mud space stations have
holodecks, so I'm throwing out that answer."
Lyda paused,
caught between surprise and further thought. "I might have to think."
Gnoe patted
her head and caught Shret's eye. "I encourage you to do so. It's not a
choice one makes lightly."
Silence
lasted until the lift stopped on deck one. "Should we give you some
examples?" Shret offered as they slipped past the busy uniformed officers
who lined the corridors.
She nodded
and Gnoe jumped in with suggestions, "Warp plasma routing station
seventeen. When we're at high speeds the reflection runs across the wall like a
group of dancing spirits."
"Or the
portal above the garden, on deck seventeen. It resembles night in the desert
and it's beautiful."
Gnoe chuckled
dryly at his husband, "He's still a romantic."
The door
ahead opened onto the Bridge. After a nod from Maeute in the command chair,
they headed for Joslynn at the helm. "You don't have to be romantic Lyda.
You can pick whatever you want."
"Except
the holodeck," she echoed quietly.
Gnoe kinked
an antennae and smiled, "You've got it. I knew you'd be as smart as you
are beautiful."
* * * * *
Admiral
Janeway knew she should be asleep. After Tuvok when home she was supposed to
sleep. The computer would wake her as soon as the message from Romulus came
through. Her Vulcan friend had insisted if she wasn't going to go home, she had
to sleep at the office. Even after she'd added the simple bedroom to the back
of her office, the fact that she rarely slept in it remained a point of
argument between them.
She could
picture his scowl as she lay there in the dark, pretending she was falling
asleep. She'd feel better at her desk where work would help take her mind off
the endless waiting. Agreeing to sleep had been the only way to get Tuvok to
leave and she felt bound to at least give it an honest attempt. She was just
giving up on the idea of rest when the comm panel suddenly beeped on the
opposite wall and the computer announced the priority message from Romulus.
"Open
commlink with Romulus. Authorization Janeway-pi-one-one-zero."
Praetor
Donatra's tight expression flashed onscreen.
"Praetor--"
Janeway began politely. Donatra cut her off without ceremony.
"Three
warbirds - the Aidoann, the Nei'rrh and the Tekenisu - are
not responding to hails. Senator Tal'aura's personal ship, the Aehallh,
has disappeared completely. Your Andorian strike force is not responding to
hails. If the Titan is already under Romulan control they will be
outnumbered five to one."
"Even
Will Riker won't like those odds," the admiral acknowledged dryly.
"I'll try to contact them personally." She fiddled with the control
panel for a few moments but Donatra had to share her helplessness as the P'Trell
continued its silent journey. "I'll send the border guard to help."
Donatra
nodded. "The rogue warbirds were last seen heading for sector
five-seven-three. I believe they intend to cross into Federation space. I
cannot stress to you enough that the Romulan people do not support this action.
We have no wish for war with the Federation."
"I
understand," Janeway replied. "The Federation has no stomach for a
war with Romulus either. Any action taken by the four ships you mentioned will
be considered renegade."
"Thank
you, Admiral."
"I'll
request our two closest ships to sector five-seven-three. The Nefertiri
and the Okame will meet the P'Trell there in time to make a stand
against Tal'aura," Janeway explained as she sent the instructions through
subspace.
"I am
sending additional ships but I do not need to tell you that they will arrive
only in time to pick up survivors." Donatra's grim expression relayed her
poor opinion of that outcome.
"Maybe
they'll just tow the victor home." Janeway tried to warm her voice or
smile, but both eluded her.
"Perhaps
you should prepare your government to receive Romulan relief vessels."
Where Janeway's attempt at levity failed, the Praetor's weak smile succeeded.
"A Romulan two ship would be quite a sight at Starbase Twenty-one."
"The
next closest ship is a friend of yours," the admiral returned with her own
small grin. "I'll tell Jean-Luc you'll be prepared to rescue him
again."
"Tell
him to bring a case of his best wine for my fleet commander. I'm looking
forward to the comparision."
"I will
remind him," Janeway assured. The Praetor reached to sign off but the
admiral leaned in close to the comm screen. "Good luck Praetor."
"Please
Admiral, once I've been seen in my bedclothes, I usually allow one to call me
Donatra." She winked with a quiet glee. "Goodnight, Kathryn. Maybe
when this is over we will both get some sleep." Donatra's visage faded
into the raptor image of the Romulan Empire before going blank.
Admiral
Janeway was once again alone in the dark, wondering if the P'Trell felt
as lonely as she did.
Chapter 6
By
Shasta
Tal'aura
watched out the viewport of her dimly-lit cabin aboard the Aehallh. In
seventeen hours, her ship, along with the warbirds Aidoann, Nei'rrh
and Tekenisu would rendezvous with the stolen U.S.S. Titan. Soon
Romulus would be rid of the weak government led by Donatra and her pacifist
fools.
Tal'aura
would rule Romulus as Praetor and bring the Empire back to its former glory.
She would begin a new age of strength and conquest.
It's
almost been too easy to get to this point, Tal'aura thought. One of her
operatives had found Commander Jareth Holman and learned about the death of his
daughter aboard the Enterprise. The human was already on the verge of
insanity so it hadn't taken much for the Fvai to 'convince' him they were on
his side. Just a slight push and he was theirs.
It was only
happenstance that the Titan was going to be captained by William Riker.
Which, for Holman, made the deal all the more sweet. He'd at least get a bit of
revenge on one member of the Enterprise crew!
Tal'aura's
thoughts turned toward the captured Titan. Tralisse and her team had
caught all of the crew onboard, with the exception of two officers. Tal'aura
shook her head, a bit disgusted with the situation. She should have taken the
ship instead of delegating the job to Tralisse.
In fact,
Tralisse was the factor that concerned her the most. She usually managed to
come through her missions unscathed, but there were always 'accidents' that
killed either some of the prisoners or some of her own people. Granted,
Tal'aura didn't hold the lives of the Federations in high regard, but there was
a difference between shedding blood for the Empire and killing to prove a
point. Tralisse seemed to lean toward the latter.
Thinking of
those missing officers, Tal'aura took note of the time. It had been a few hours
since Tralisse had informed her of their progress in that matter. They should
have easily caught the renegades by now.
Tal'aura
ordered a drink from the replicator then walked to the comm unit to contact the
Titan. After a few moments Tralisse appeared onscreen.
Leaning
back in her chair, Tal'aura interlaced her fingers in front of her.
"Report."
"We
are cloaked and on course for the rendezvous point," Tralisse answered.
"I
know that, Tralisse. What of the missing Federations?"
Tralissa
blushed an almost unnoticeable shade of light green. "They have been
caught and placed with the other hostages."
Tal'aura
quirked an eyebrow at the other woman. "I see ... Very good, Commander.
Make sure they remain in their cage. Tal'aura out."
She reached
forward, cutting the transmission, then took her cup. Sipping its contents,
Tal'aura thought about Tralisse's reaction to her question. Something didn't
seem quite right.
* * * * *
Tralisse
was silent for a moment after Tal'aura closed the channel. She fingered the
trigger of her disruptor, wanting to lash out at anything and everything at
once.
She paced
around the Bridge of the Titan. So far, none of the teams searching for
the two missing Federation crewmen had found anything. And Holman ...
Holman. She
scoffed. Such a waste of skin and blood. As a former Starfleet officer, he was
supposed to have all the information they needed to take the ship. The Titan
was in the Fvai's hands now, so to Tralisse he had already out-lived his
usefulness. It had crossed her mind several times to put him in the disruptor
field with the rest of the Titan crew.
Tralisse
stopped and thought for a moment. There had been no reports from the guards.
Spinning on
her heel, she faced Holman, who was sitting at one of the aft science stations.
"Have any of the guards from the Mess Hall reported in?"
Holman
jerked his head up to meet her eyes. "No, Commander, they haven't."
Tralisse
pointed to one of the men behind her. "Vehlan, come with me. It has been
too long since they've contacted us. I want to go down there myself and see what's
going on."
"Yes,
Commander." Vehlan snapped to attention then fell in behind Tralisse as
she entered the turbolift.
In a short
while the doors opened and Tralisee walked down the hallway toward the Mess
Hall. Seeing no one standing outside the doors, she turned to Vehlan.
"Where are the guards?"
"I
don't know, Commander," he said, fingering the trigger of his sidearm.
Tralisse
drew her disruptor. "I don't like this," she hissed, continuing on to
the door. Looking in, she saw the waking guards behind the disruptor field ...
and no Federations in sight.
"Fvadt!!
How did this happen?" she yelled at them. "How?! She pointed her
disruptor at Subcommander Jei, the ranking officer in the enclosure.
"I-I-I
don't know, Commander," he answered as he came to his feet. His weakened
legs caused him to stumble some. "The two missing Federations--"
"I do not
want to hear excuses, Jei!! There are three of you! And you were armed with
disruptors! How did two lloann'na ataen do this?"
Before he
could answer, Tralisse fired. The others watched as their comrade screamed, his
body slowly disintegrating into nothing.
She turned
to her daughter inside the enclosure. "And you, Rosnika, you let them slip
by, too. I taught you better skills than that. These are humans, after
all."
Rosnika's
gaze went to the floor. "We were distracted, Mo-Commander," she
corrected. "The Federations have more guile than you give them credit
for."
"It
makes no difference. I should kill you all, even you, but with the entire
Federation crew now missing I must be 'merciful' and punish only one." Her
face became a neutral mask as she de-activated the disruptor field. "I
suggest you take that to heart."
Tralisse
took a deep breath and turned to the other guard inside the Mess Hall. "Subcommander
Fezzin, I hope you have learned from this experience. Now, you and your
underling round up all available personnel and begin a search for the
Federation crew. Do not disappoint me." She didn't miss the cold
look her daughter gave her.
Fezzin
swallowed hard. "I won't, Commander," he answered, leaving the room
with Rosnika a few steps behind.
Tralisse
addressed Vehlan, "Come with me back to the Bridge. We must devise some
way to bring the Federations out of hiding."
"Yes,
Commander," he said, falling in behind her.
* * * * *
The
turbolift doors opened, depositing Tralisse and Vehlan onto the Bridge.
Tralisse
immediately turned to Jareth Holman. "The entire Titan crew has
managed to escape. No doubt it was with a little help from their friends."
She studied the display at one of the nearby science stations. "I want to
use this ship against them."
Holman's
brow furrowed. "How do you mean, Commander?"
Annoyed,
Tralisse closed her eyes for a moment before answering. "They may have
escaped from the disruptor field, but they are still a bunch of humans on board
a vessel taken by Romulans." She smiled and looked at Holman. "Humans
weaken quicker under extreme temperatures. Program the computer to increase
ship-wide temperatures to fifty degrees Celsius and humidity up to one hundred
percent." Tralisse paused. "Then, cut all lighting except on the
Bridge and in Main Engineering. That should make them think twice about who's
in control of this ship."
"Isn't
that a bit much?" he questioned. "They may get heat-stroke."
"Afraid
of a little heat, Jareth?" Tralisse's laugh held little emotion. "If
any of the Federations die of natural causes, it's hardly my fault. They made
the mistake of escaping. I am only trying to persuade them to surrender."
* * * * *
Dr. Braz
and Reyllt already had the equipment they needed for their part in sabotaging
the Titan, so they left for the Mess Hall as the other crew members
split into groups and went to deck eleven.
Reyllt
gallantly opened the nearest hatch. "After you, Doctor."
Braz rolled
her eyes. "I think I'll pass, Rey. You did a great job of leading
earlier."
"As
you wish," he said as he once again crawled into the Jefferies tube.
"Since we know the disruptor field does no go all the way to the wall, we
can enter the Mess Hall through the crawlway."
Aria
listened as she crawled behind Reyllt. "Yeah, but how are we going to get
Xander back to Sickbay? I mean, they've got to know the crew's escaped by
now."
Reyllt
smiled. "There obviously are not many saboteurs onboard. I believe we will
be able to retrieve Chief Yavan and get to Sickbay before the Romulans figure
it out."
He came to
a fork and took a left. "We're almost there." He took out his
tricorder and scanned the Mess Hall. "Only three Romulan life signs - all
inside the disruptor field - along with one Betazoid sign." He looked over
his shoulder at Braz. "All are still unconscious, but they may begin to
wake soon."
"They
we don't have any time to waste." Aria pushed her sleeves up to her
elbows. "Let's get him and get back to Sickbay. I've had enough of this
crawling around."
"Agreed."
Reyllt
approached the hatch that led into the Mess Hall and quietly opened it a crack.
Seeing there was no one unaccounted for, he slipped out of the crawlway then
helped Braz to her feet.
The Vulcan
knelt by one of the floor devices to deactivate the disruptor field. After it
shimmered into non-existence, he and Aria steeped over to Xander's prone form.
Aria
flipped out her tricorder, checking his vital signs, and nodded. He was stable.
At her nod,
Reyllt took Xander's arm and pulled the body of the unconscious transporter
chief over his shoulder.
They
quietly stepped outside of the devices that marked the field's boundary and
Aria re-activated it. She stopped when she saw one of the guards stir.
"We've got to get out of here!" she whispered. "They're
beginning to wake up!"
Quickly,
the trio entered the corridor and turned toward Sickbay.
Reyllt
could hear the turbolift approaching. "Aria!" he said, "Into
that alcove! The lift is coming to this deck!"
They were
barely hidden in the shadows as the hiss of the opening doors was heard.
Reyllt
rested Yavan's body against the wall and shifted his position so he was
slightly in front of Aria, almost in a protective stance. Stay behind me,
he thought. He could not fathom the thought of the Romulans getting their hands
on her. Taking a slow deep breath, he tried to clear his mind. Now was not the
time for emotion to get in the way.
Aria and
Reyllt held their breath as two of the disguised hijackers walked past the
niche they were hiding in.
Reyllt
listened to the Romulans as best he could, but Yavan was beginning to stir. He
clapped a hand over Xander's mouth and turned to the doctor, "I believe we
should get our transporter chief to Sickbay before he alerts the others to our
presence."
"Agreed,
but since they already know the two of us are loose, don't you think there'll
be someone waiting for us in Sickbay?"
"That
is a possibility," Reyllt answered.
The sound
of disruptor fire and a death shriek from one of the guards stopped them for
several seconds. Eyes wide, Reyllt picked up Yavan's body again. "We shall
deal with that when we get there. Right now, I think it is more important we
distance ourselves from the Mess Hall."
"Good
idea," Aria said, drawing her phaser. "I'll lead the way."
* * * * *
After
retrieving a tricorder and a few other tools from the storage unit on deck
eleven, Deanna's team found a small hidden area to make their plans to take the
Bridge.
The tip of
Sharpclaw's tail twitched as he pulled up a schematic of the Titan on
his tricorder. He studied the diagram with Lieutenant Tiege and Ensign Erith
for a moment.
Tiege
unzipped the top of his uniform a few centimeters and spoke, "It looks
like there are several possible ways we could take the Bridge. We can sneak in
by taking the Jefferies tubes to the Captain's Ready Room or to the Briefing
Room."
"Very
good, Lieutenant." Sharpclaw pointed to the display with a clawed finger,
"Another option is to take the turbolift." His whiskers arched
forward in his version of a smile. "Come in through the front door, so to
speak."
The
counselor listened to their suggestions. "Those are all good ideas,
however, assuming the Romulans are searching for us, they would expect us to
try and sneak in. I think we should come through the turbolift. The shock of us
making such a bold move should give us the few seconds needed to take
control."
"That's
what I was thinking, Commander, however, that puts you in greater danger."
Sharpclaw's left ear flicked back momentarily. "We don't know how many
Romulans are on the Bridge--"
Troi
figured this would come up sooner or later. She stopped him from continuing.
"My safety is not the point, Lieutenant Sharpclaw. This is a group effort
to take the Titan back. None of us knows what the odds are against us,
but I plan on doing my part to get this ship back under our control. I expect
you to do the same." She held his gaze for a moment. "When we take
the Bridge, no matter how it's done, I'm going in with you."
With a whip
of his long silver tail, Sharpclaw bowed his head slightly. "Aye,
sir."
"Good."
Troi slung the phaser rifle over her shoulder then loosened the collar of her
uniform. She was beginning to feel hot, which was odd. The standard temperature
of a starship always felt a bit cool to her.
Deanna
looked at the others. They were showing signs of being uncomfortably hot, too.
Tiege and Erith both had opened the tops of their uniforms. Sharpclaw seemed
indifferent, except he was beginning to pant some through his mouth. "Is
it just me, or is it getting hot in here?" she asked.
Ensign
Erith answered as she raked a hand through her short brown hair, "It does
feel warmer to me. The air feels thick, too, like it's more humid now."
At that
moment the lights went out. Deanna sighed. It was pitch black. "I have a
feeling our Romulan hosts have noticed we're gone."
"That
would explain the jump in temperature," Tiege said, wiping his brow with
the back of his hand. "Romulans can stand hotter temps than most humanoid
species can. They're probably trying to flush us out."
"Then
we must work quickly," Sharpclaw hissed. "We have several decks to
maneuver through before reaching the Bridge."
Deanna
started to activate the wrist beacon she had taken from the storage unit, then
remembered the advantage of having Sharpclaw on her team. "Sharpclaw, can
you see?"
"Yes,
I can," he responded. "Quite clearly at that."
"Good,"
Troi said, turning on the beacon. "That's one advantage we have if we get
in a tight spot. Let's get to deck six by the Jefferies tubes then take the
lift to the Bridge. I have my doubts they're watching the crew quarters for
us."
Sharpclaw
pulled up a diagram of the Jefferies tubes. He panted a few times before
speaking. "We have quite a long climb ahead of us. I suggest we pace
ourselves accordingly. We shoul first go to the crawlway on the other side of
Engineering. It is a direct path up to deck six."
"I
agree, Lieutenant," said Erith. "We could possibly take out some
Romulans on the way." The Bajoran smirked as she rolled up the sleeves of
her uniform. "That would probably help Commander Ibric's team."
Deanna
pulled her long hair back, trying to get the bits unstuck from the back of her
neck. "Then we have a plan. Let's move." She took her phaser rifle
and addressed Sharpclaw, "We're following you, Lieutenant."
* * * * *
Lieutenant
Commander Ibric Sark watched as his group of engineers took the necessary
equipment out of the storage locker. He glanced at each piece as his people
strode past him. When they were finished, he looked at the young crewmen before
him.
Sark pulled
at the collar of his uniform. All this sneaking around was making him
uncomfortably hot. He took a quick breath. "Our priority is to get the warp
core offline and the main computer locked off from our 'guests.' Our best bet
is to split into two groups so we can get more work done. T'Mar, Avery and
Espiro, I want you to work on sabotaging the main computer. Lee and Blakeman,
you'll help me deal with the warp core."
Sark paused
a moment to allow their assignments to sink in. "We'll stick together as
long as possible, but it's inevitable we'll have to split up. Be careful. I
have no doubt there'll be Romulans skulking around Engineering and, after our
escape, they're probably not taking prisoners. All I ask is you do your best so
we can hand this ship back to its rightful captain."
He was
answered with several "Aye, sir"s from the team.
Sark
smiled, proud of his crew. "Let's get to work."
* * * * *
As Fezzin
led Rosnika into the corridor outside the Mess Hall, he heard a thump, like
something had fallen to the floor. He stopped, giving her a silencing gesture.
They stood
quietly and eventually heard shuffling coming from further down the corridor.
Fezzin signaled again and he and Rosnika drew their disruptors, following the
sound.
It wasn't
long before they caught up to the source of the noise. Fezzin glanced around
the corner he and Rosnika had just approached. About ten meters down the hall
were three Federation crewmen, two helping one that appeared to be injured.
Fezzin
whispered to his comrade, "They are going toward the Infirmary. I believe
Jei left Thelak there in case the Federations returned." He stepped back a
little ways before activating his commbadge. "Thelak, this is Fezzin. Are
you still in Sickbay?"
"Yes,
I am still in Sickbay. Why do you ask?"
"Be
prepared for some company. Rosnika and I are following three Federations headed
your way."
"Understood.
Thelak out."
Fezzin
smiled. This would be a great way to prove himself to the commander. "This
should be fun."
* * * * *
Sark and
his team crept into Main Engineering. They stopped momentarily at one of the
stations right outside the warp core.
Sark faced
them. "Okay, this is where we split up. Be careful and good luck." He
let Lieutenant T'Mar's team continue on to the main computer interface before
taking his group in.
When the
officers were out of sight, Sark turned to Lieutenant Blakeman. "Julie, I
want you to stay at this station and monitor our progress. Brent and I will
start shutting the warp core down."
"Aye,
sir," Julie Blakeman nodded as she tried to push back some of the dark
blonde hair that was beginning to stick to her forehead. She managed to get over
in a dark corner from which to watch the station.
"Come
on, Brent, let's get started on the warp core." Sark shifted the toolkit
he was carrying into his other hand, then led the way to their destination.
As he and
Ensign Lee approached the core, Sark could feel the vibration in the floor
plating as it gave life to the ship. He set the toolkit down in front of the
console he and Brent were about to work on before unzipping the front of his
uniform jacket. The heat was beginning to get unbearable.
Sark turned
to address Lee, but the other officer wasn't behind him. A cold shiver show
down his spine. "Brent? Where are you?"
He was
answered by an unfamiliar voice, "We've been waiting for you, human."
* * * * *
Sharpclaw
led his team toward Main Engineering. Counselor Troi had a wrist beacon
activated, but he didn't see the need for it. The area they were about to sneak
through appeared to be well-lit.
He
flattened his left ear with a bit of confusion. Turning to the counselor, he
started to speak as she reached to turn the beacon off. Sharpclaw arched his
whiskers forward in a smile. She must've come to the same conclusion about the
lighting as he.
Nodding in
approval, he continued to tip-toe toward Engineering. He waved at the others to
get against the wall as he poked his head around a corner. The security chief
glanced around the room and, seeing it was empty, he sniffed the air. He could
tell the Romulans had been there but it had been a while.
Sharpclaw
turned back to the others. "Follow," he said, then took off to crouch
behind the console in the middle of the room. He paused there for a moment,
looking and sniffing some more before dashing through the entrance at the
opposite end of the room.
He waited
for the others to come, still keenly aware of his surroundings. The heat was
really beginning to bother him. He tried to continue breathing through his nose
because he was afraid his panting would give them away.
After a few
moments, Counselor Troi, along with the two security officers, joined Sharpclaw.
They were now in a dimly-lit corridor leading away from Engineering. Sharpclaw
led them down the hallway and into a small room where several Jefferies tubes
intersected.
He slung
his phaser rifle over his shoulder and stepped up to the ladder in the center
of the room. "This way," he said.
Lieutenant
Tiege kept watch. Sharpclaw, followed by Counselor Troi and Ensign Erith, began
climbing up the ladder.
Tiege waved
at the others. "Quick! Someone's coming!" He pressed himself against
the wall while the others scurried up into the Jefferies tube.
The
security officer waited until the Romulan completely passed before trying to
catch up with the others. He climbed up a few feet, then heard the hijacker
coming back. Taking the ladder two rungs at a time, he was barely out of sight
when the Romulan stopped outside the room Tiege and his comrades were just in.
Tiege
stayed stock-still as the Romulan looked around, then walked on. He blew out
the breath he'd been holding and climbed up to join his team members.
* * * * *
Aria
stepped cautiously into the hallway. Seeing the coast was clear, she motioned
for Reyllt to follow. He re-adjusted the semi-conscious form of Xander Yavan on
his shoulder and walked behind her.
Yavan
moaned as he started to come around. Aria jumped at the sound. In their attempt
to be quiet, noises like that sounded ten times louder than they actually were.
She turned to see Reyllt struggling with the chief, finally dropping him to his
feet.
Braz
holstered her phaser and swiftly walked back to help the head nurse. She and
Reyllt shuffled Chief Yavan around until they each had one of his arms around
them, then continued on to Sickbay.
* * * * *
Rosnika
kept in step behind Fezzin as they followed the Federations to the Infirmary.
She listened as the two uninjured, a male and female, talked and laughed
quietly. It fascinated her when she noticed the male had pointed ears.
"He's
a Vulcan," she said to Fezzin. Rosnika could hardly keep her thoughts to
herself. "I thought Vulcans didn't laugh."
"That
could be a falsehood. We really don't know much about our cousins."
"You're
probably right," she answered.
* * * * *
Braz was a
bit anxious and couldn't help but laugh a little at their situation. As she
helped Reyllt carry Xander, she whispered, "You know Rey, we're only
twenty or so meters from Sickbay but I think it's going to be the longest walk
I've ever made."
"I
know what you mean," he said, keeping pace with her. His face remained
neutral as he continued, "It would be nice if the chief would stop trying
to walk. Every time he has made an attempt, he has stomped on my foot."
The doctor
giggled at Reyllt's admission. His sense of humor caught her that time. She
looked ahead and saw the doors to Sickbay. "We're here. Let me see if we
have any guests in there." Aria let go of the transporter chief and took
out her tricorder. She started to open it when she heard a sound from behind.
* * * * *
Ensign Lisa
Cartwright took a tricorder and a small toolkit that would work for
re-configuring the secondary sensor array. She handed the latter to her
partner, Ensign Warit Meiers. "Here you go."
Meiers
nodded as she accepted the kit. "We're off to Astrometrics now?"
"In a
minute," Cartwright answered. "I wanted to run something by you
first."
"Sure!
What do you have in mind?" The Bolian's dark eyes twinkled with a bit of
amusement.
Lisa
smiled. "I had an idea that may give us some extra time to get our signal
out. I was thinking that since we're only three decks from Astrometrics it may
save us some time to just sneak in there using the turbolift, instead of
crawling through all the Jefferies tubes."
"Sounds
like a good idea to me. I didn't like going through the bowels of the ship
anyway," she laughed.
Lisa joined
in the laughter. "Okay, then. That sounds like a plan." She patted
her new friend on the shoulder.
As the two
walked down the hallway, Lisa thought, All we have to worry about is
accidentally finding a lift full of Romulans!
They came
upon the intersection with the corridor that led to one of the turbolifts. Lisa
scanned with her tricorder and, seeing they were safe, jogged to the lift.
Meiers was right behind her when the doors opened, showing the area inside
empty.
The two
stepped inside. Meiers spoke, "This seems easy enough. So far,
anyway." She paused for a moment. "It does seem a bit warmish,
though."
"I was
thinking the same thing, Warit." Cartwright pulled up her long red hair.
"I just figured it was nerves."
Lisa felt
her chest clench in fear when the lights inside the turbolift suddenly went
out. "What happened?"
"I
don't know," Meiers answered. "We're slowing down. Maybe the lights
are faulty in this lift. I bet we'll be able to see when the doors open."
"Maybe."
Lisa looked down at the display on her tricorder as the turbolift came to a
stop. "I'm not reading any life-forms nearby. We should be safe."
The doors
opened onto a darkened hallway. Lisa and Warit stepped carefully out and slowly
made their way to Astrometrics. Cartwright kept a watchful eye on the tricorder
display. There still were no life-signs as they approached their destination.
They both
stood outside the doors of Astrometrics for a moment before entering. Lisa took
a deep breath to try and steel herself. "Here goes nothing," she
said, walking through the doors. She looked around then back to Ensign Meiers.
"It's all clear. Come on, there's no telling how much time we have to get
this message out."
Meiers
nodded and pointed to a computer console on the far right wall. "Okay, the
sensor array is over there."
The two
walked over to the station and began pulling one of the panels off. Once the
object was removed, Lisa placed it to the side. "Now we get to the easy
part."
* * * * *
Tralisse
had taken her seat in the captain's chair. Rosnika reported earlier that three
of the Federations had been recaptured. A bit of pride washed over Tralisse
knowing her daughter was in the group that caught them. From Rosnika's report,
it sounded like two of the officers caught were the ones missing earlier. That,
to Tralisse, was a big step toward collecting the remaining Federations.
Her train
of thought was interrupted when Jareth Holman spoke. Even though he didn't
speak much, his voice really irritated her.
"That's
odd."
Tralisse
looked up from the computer read-out she was studying. "What?"
"It
looks like there's something going on with the secondary sensor array." He
punched a few commands into the console in front of him. "I had the
computer doing a sweep for any unusual activity and this showed up." He
pointed to the display.
Maybe he
isn't as useless as I thought. Tralisse walked up behind him to study the
information on the display.
"As
far as I know, there isn't supposed to be anyone in there," Holman
offered.
Tralisse
narrowed her eyes in thought, "I know." She turned to her guard.
"Vehlan, gather your men and check Astrometrics. I believe some of our
stray Federations are up to no good."
Vehlan
straightened and bowed to his superior. "Aye, Commander," he said as
he left the Bridge.
Tralisse
gave Holman an appraising look. "Good job. Perhaps you are still of some
use to me."
He managed
a weak smile. "Thank you, Commander."
* * * * *
Fezzin
tapped Rosnika's shoulder as they watched the Federations step into the alcove
outside Sickbay. "We make our move now."
The two
snuck down the corridor toward the three escapees.
Right as
they approached the niche, Fezzin raised his weapon to the human female's head.
Rosnika
aimed her weapon at the Vulcan. She watched as the female paused before turning
around.
The female
turned right toward Fezzin's disruptor and became even more pale before
dropping the instrument she was holding.
* * * * *
"What's
wrong, Doctor?" Reyllt asked, twisting his head to see what was going on
behind him.
Aria turned
and dropped her tricorder. There was a disruptor pointed right at her forehead.
Braz's
mouth was completely dry when she answered, "We have company,
Reyllt."
* * * * *
Sharpclaw
glanced around the corner. "The turbolift is about fifteen meters to our
right," he panted.
When Troi
answered, her voice sounded tired, "Okay. Lead the way, Lieutenant."
The Sivaoan
took a deep breath before leading the others toward the lift. He stopped just
outside the doors. "Everyone against the wall in case someone is
inside."
In the low
lighting, Sharpclaw watched the grey forms of his team flatten themselves
against the bulkhead. He could tell they were all tired and exhausted from
moving around the stuffy corridors of the Titan. The Romulans did have
some merit on that point. They knew what would weaken their enemy. They just
didn't figure perseverance into the equation.
He shook
his head, getting back to the matter at hand. Sharpclaw knew that surprise was
his most prized weapon. He stepped to the side and tapped the button that would
open the lift doors. Once they were open, he spun around to the entrance,
phaser rifle in hand. The turbolift was empty.
"Clear,"
he whispered, helping the group inside before entering himself.
The doors
hissed shut and Deanna spoke, "Is everyone in place?" A series of
whispered affirmatives were her answer. "Bridge," she ordered.
The
turbolift began its short journey to the Bridge and the security chief crouched
down near the doors, ready for action.
Feeling the
lift slow toward its destination, he crouched even lower, his muscles tightly
coiled with claws extended. When the almost-blinding light of the Bridge
flooded inside, he sprang directly for the nearest life-form he saw.
* * * * *
Sark felt
what he thought to be the end of a disruptor being pressed into the small of
his back. "I'd imagine so," he said, "but you aren't very
observant. I'm Bajoran."
"That
really doesn't matter to me. All Federation species are weak. Drop what you are
carrying and turn around slowly."
Seeing as
he didn't have much choice, Sark did as he was told. He let the warp field
calibrator fall from his hand and un-holstered his phaser as he faced his
captors. There were three disguised Romulans. One with the disruptor now pointed
at his head and two more holding Ensign Lee.
"Tell
me, Federation man, where are the rest of your friends hiding?"
As the
hijacker spoke, Sark noticed a bit of movement in the shadows behind the
Romulans.
He smirked
at the one who spoke. "They're hiding all over. One wrong move and they'll
take you out."
"Really?"
the Romulan laughed. "I find that hard to believe. Your people aren't that
devious."
Sark
recognized Lieutenant T'Mar's slender form creep up behind the captors holding
Ensign Lee. He did his best to keep the Romulans' attention while his people
went to work. "Honestly, you have no idea."
T'Mar took
that moment to grasp the left guard's neck with the Vulcan nerve pinch. The
guard fell to the floor unconscious.
Lee stomped
the second guard's foot, following up with an elbow to the midsection. The
guard doubled over, all the while trying to hang on to Lee. A phaser beam
lanced from across the room, hitting the Romulan in the back.
The Romulan
talking to Sark spun to see what the commotion was behind him. Sark used the
distraction to kick the hijacker's feet out from under him. He landed
face-first on the floor and his disruptor clattered from his hand. As he
scrambled to get up, Sark picked up the toolkit behind him and used it to knock
the Romulan over the head.
Sark smiled
at the unconscious form at his feet. Wiping the moisture from his brow, he took
a deep breath. "I think we're pretty devious." He looked at the other
engineers. "What happened there?"
Lieutenant
T'Mar answered, "Lieutenant Blakeman saw the Romulans as they followed you
and Ensign Lee toward the warp core. Apparently they didn't notice her hiding
by the monitoring station."
Blakeman
approached with Ensigns Avery and Espiro. "While they were occupied with
the two of you I snuck off and brought in the cavalary."
"Well,
you did a great job!" Sark praised. "Let's get the equipment off
these bastards and get them locked inside one of the offices." He pointed
to each of the prone forms in turn. "Avery, you and T'Mar take the left
guard. Espiro and Blakeman, take the right and Lee, you help me with this
guy."
The
engineers divided accordingly and took their captives to the nearest office.
Once they
got the Romulans inside, Sark pulled out a length of optical cable from a nearby
wall panel and, with the help of the others, bound and gagged the former
hijackers.
The
engineers left the incapacitated Romulans and returned to their assignments.
David Avery noticed some kind of device attached to one of the far walls.
"What the--?" He wiped his brow, then went to find Sark. "Sir! I
think I've found something."
Sark looked
where the young ensign was pointing and saw the box he had found. He and Avery
walked over to it.
"What
do you make of it, sir?" Avery asked.
Sark
studied the object in question, lightly stroking his goatee. "My God, it's
a cloaking device." He knelt next to the piece of equipment, looking at
the connections. "We've got to disable this!"
Sark
addressed the officers behind him, "Change of plans, people, listen up!
Avery, I need you, Lee, T'Mar and Espiro to get the remaining systems ready for
lockup. When you're finished, start taking the warp core offline."
As the
others turned to go about their business, he turned to Lieutenant Blakeman.
Sark stared at her for a moment. She reminded him of Lyda. Their hair was very
similar and her eyes were almost the same color. He had to get back to Lyda. He
couldn't - no, wouldn't - leave her. Lyda needed him as much as he
needed her.
Blakeman
noticed his look. "Sir?"
"Sorry."
He shook his head, giving her a lopsided smile. "You remind me of someone
I know."
Sark raked
a hand through his sweat-slicked hair as he returned to the task at hand.
"Julie, I want you to help me get this contraption disconnected from my power
matrix. We'll help the others when we're finished."
* * * * *
The
turbolift doors opened and Tralisse turned toward the sound. She hadn't called
anyone to the Bridge.
All she saw
was a grey and while streak coming directly for her.
TBC…