Ghost of a Chance (7 page)

“We’ve lost power in the port nacelle,” he reported, hauling himself up among the others, working quickly to evaluate the rush of data displayed before him.

“That is not all,” Tuvok said, sounding somewhat shaken as well, a rarity in any Vulcan, and no comfort to Kim.

“We’ve got to pull out of this spin or we don’t stand a chance,” Janeway said, struggling with the controls. “Mr. Kim, see what you can do with those starboard stabilizers.”

Telemetry readings glowed next to a screen displaying the shuttle’s position relative to the horizon. Kim rerouted the stabilizer controls while Janeway and Tuvok regained minimal control, then began to ease the shuttle into a more shallow dive.

Momentarily the rate of descent started to slow, and the planet’s surface, bathed in daylight, rotated into view.

“We might just make it, Captain,” Kim said, feeling a need to say something as he realized survival was now a possibility.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” the captain said, glancing sidelong at him, as if she had known the outcome all along. She hadn’t, of course. No one could have. But a part of him almost believed it so, and just when he needed that belief.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, already anticipating her next command, readying the landing thrusters.

“Helm is barely responding,” Tuvok reported. “Power levels are down seventy-three percent. I believe we can still come close to our original destination, but it will not be possible to choose a proper landing sight.”

“Let’s just make it one we can walk away from,” Janeway said, to enthusiastic nods from her shipmates.

The shuttle bucked, then rolled, then leveled slightly, only to fall abruptly again. Kim’s gut floated up into his chest once more. He tried to ignore the feeling. He watched the viewscreen as the shuttle slipped through dense banks of black, ash-filled clouds. Then the ground seemed to leap up at them as they broke into the clear. A patchwork pattern of grasslands, cultivated fields, and dense forests lay below, stretching out to nearby hills and mountains in the east.

Another mountain range was visible far to the south, where great plumes of smoke rose to fill the sky.

Kim fired the thrusters, correcting manually as best he could, while the others struggled to keep the ship’s nose in position.

With one final stomach-wrenching lurch, the shuttle pushed back, then settled down and hit the ground with a force that sent its three crew members sprawling.

“Everyone all right?” the captain asked as she and Tuvok picked themselves up off the deck yet again. One dim red light made the shuttle’s interior vaguely visible.

Most of the instrument panels had gone dead, Kim noticed as he stood up and looked around him. He moved again to the main console, feeling a bruise on his lower ribs and another on his elbow. Then he began working, trying to determine what was off-line. “I’m okay, Captain,” he said.

“I am unharmed as well, Captain,” Tuvok said, “but it appears this shuttle will not fly again without considerable repairs. A separate crew will have to be sent down.” He stood beside Kim, examining panels. “We have lost power, at least for the moment, but even if it can be restored it appears nearly everything is out.”

“Including life-support,” Kim said.

“And communications,” Tuvok added.

Janeway nodded, her expression unreadable in the near-darkness.

“Very well,” she said. “Let’s see if we can find out what’s going on upstairs.” The captain tapped her comm badge. “Janeway to Voyager, come in.”

No response. Kim tried his own badge, then Tuvok, all to similar results.

“It is possible that interference from the planet’s extreme magnetic field fluctuations is preventing the signal from getting through,” Tuvok suggested.

“That has to be it, Captain,” Kim interjected, trying to make himself useful. He was well aware that Tuvok and Janeway, between them, had more experience than he would likely accumulate in a lifetime. Still, neither of them ever made him feel that he was not a valued crewman, which only increased his determination to be just that.

“Cut off and shipwrecked,” Janeway muttered, shaking her head gravely.

Then her hands went to her hips, heralding a change in her mood. “What systems can you get to come back up?” she asked the Vulcan. “And how long will it take? That hope is all we’ve got going for us right now.”

“I cannot guess at the time, but some repairs might be possible.

I will make communications my priority.”

“Understood. You’ll stay here, then. See what you can do.

Meanwhile, Mr. Kim and I are going to have a look around. Our landing was likely witnessed by someone, and I’d rather spot them before they spot us.”

“I’d estimate we’ve landed just north of our target,” Kim announced, recalling the last telemetry data he’d seen just before they touched down. He had gone over maps of the surface while waiting in the shuttle bay, and maps of this area in particular. The nearby village was one of the largest on this side of the planet. They had been aiming for a spot near there.

For a moment, when they were still up in the clouds, he had worried they might land right on top of it.

“That also would put us only a few kilometers from the hills where the underground energy source was detected,” Tuvok added.

“At least we’re in the right neighborhood,” Janeway remarked.

“Not that it will do us a lot of good.”

“Captain,” Kim asked, thinking it pertinent to do so now, “do you think Voyager is under attack?”

“We have no way of knowing,” Tuvok said.

“What I mean is, why would the Televek send their people aboard Voyager and then start shooting?”

“I think they were shooting only at the shuttle,” Janeway said.

“But that doesn’t make sense either.”

“That’s why we’re here, Mr. Kim, to try to make sense of some of this.

And that’s what I intend to do. Phasers on stun,” she directed him, checking her own weapon as she spoke. “I hope we won’t have to use them. I don’t want to make contact with the native population if we can avoid it. We have no reason to believe the Televek have.”

“Aye, sir,” Kim said, placing the hand phaser back on his belt.

“I’m ready.”

“Good.” She pulled the manual release, and the shuttle’s main hatch slowly opened. “Let’s go.”

“Battle stations, Mr. Rollins!” Chakotay snapped as he rushed onto the bridge, the chief engineer right behind him. “Rearm photon torpedoes, prepare to fire on my command. Helm, prepare an evasive course.”

Rollins stood at Tuvok’s station touching keypads on the tactical control panel. “I would advise against firing, sir,” he said.

“We’re too close to the target.”

“He’s right,” B’Elanna told Chakotay from the engineering bay.

“Without our shields we’d risk the chance of being caught in the backwash.”

Chakotay looked from one to the other. “I know. Arm the torpedoes.”

“The Televek are hailing us, Commander,” Rollins announced.

“I’ll bet they are.”

“I knew they couldn’t be trusted,” Neelix said. He had been lingering near the turbolift door. He walked up gingerly behind Chakotay, rubbing nervous hands together. “I did try to tell you.”

Chakotay nodded, then fixed his gaze on the dark, angular shape of the Televek ship in the center of the main viewscreen. “Put them on,” he said, adding, “This better be good.”

“Why was a shuttle launched?” Gantel’s slightly agitated voice immediately asked. “What were you trying to accomplish?”

Why was it deliberately fired upon?” the commander countered tersely.

“That shuttle represented no threat to you of any kind.”

“Our weapons fire hit your shuttle quite by accident. It was intended as a warning, nothing more.”

Chakotay frowned at this, and noticed his fists were clenched tightly against his outer thighs. He opened them, forcing himself to stretch his fingers. He doubted the Televek’s aim was that bad. “A warning against what? The shuttle’s mission was purely scientific, an attempt to gather more data. The planet’s chaotic magnetic fields must be affecting your sensors, the same as ours. A mission to the surface was the only logical step.”

“Apparently another… misunderstanding, Commander,” the Televek’s increasingly calm voice responded.

Chakotay balled his fists again. “You seem to have a lot of those.”

“Only when we are uninformed.”

“We have people aboard that shuttle!” Chakotay snapped.

“We regret any injuries, of course. It is quite possible there are survivors.”

“Then I trust you won’t mind if we send another shuttle down after our people,” Chakotay replied. “Immediately.”

“That will not be possible.”

“Why not?” Paris said, nearly rising out of his seat at the helm.

“You can’t expect us to leave them there!” B’Elanna injected.

Chakotay clenched his fists once more. “We intend to launch a rescue attempt. Do you intend to try to stop us?”

For a moment dead air filled the communication bands. Finally Gantel said, “There is much to explain. We are creating yet another misunderstanding, I think.”

“Agreed,” Chakotay said.

“Did Jonal and the others arrive safely?” Gantel asked then.

“Have you spoken with them?”

“Yes,” Chakotay said, still trying to control a sense of exasperation that threatened to overwhelm him. “And they seem to have almost as much trouble getting to the point as you do. Now, I want some answers.”

“Of course, but first, may we speak to our advocates?”

“Right now?”

“Yes. I believe that may be the best way to proceed. Confusion serves no one. Direct communication serves best. They can help us both, I assure you.”

“I can think of at least one other option,” Chakotay told him, glancing first at Paris, then at Torres, aware even before he saw their faces that he was speaking for them as well.

“And if we obliterate each other, all is lost,” Gantel said. “In the interest of cooperation, and the well-being of those in the shuttle, you should summon our people.”

“Very well. Mister Rollins, have our Drosary visitors brought directly to the bridge. They are to be kept under full security at all times.”

“Commander,” Rollins began, “if I may say so, sir, I don’t see where that will help. In fact, it might confuse—” “No, we are going to have this out, here and now,” the commander replied. “Mr. Paris, maintain surface scans. Keep trying to find a way through that EM-field interference. If you get anything at all, speak up. That goes for everyone.”

Chakotay paced silently as his orders were carried out. Within moments the three Drosary advocates stepped onto the bridge. Two armed security officers preceded them, while another two followed behind. As soon as the channel to the Televek was reopened, Jonal began a rapid discussion, which was quickly joined by Mila and Tassay. The content, however, was difficult to determine; it was as if they were speaking in a code.

Clearly, however, there was some disagreement or other, and it centered around Voyager—specifically, around “a class-nine joint venture,” in Gantel’s words.

“And what of the salvage?” Jonal asked.

“There can be no argument on this,” Gantel replied.

“That was our original position,” Tassay said.

“I have always advocated continuous evaluation,” came Gantel’s answer.

“Especially when it is most opportune,” Mila said with what could only have been a touch of sarcasm.

“I can only recommend that we grant them the right of applied incentives,” Jonal said emphatically. “Second tier, of course.”

“How generous,” Gantel replied, biting back. “I’m sure the first director will be pleased with that.”

“And she will be more pleased, I suppose, with all of nothing,” Mila chided, more sternly than Chakotay would have expected. Yet another long silence followed. The three Drosary stood calmly about, waiting patiently, as if they knew exactly what was to come.

“Agreed,” Gantel said at last, “contingent on the first director’s decisions, which are, we expect… imminent.”

“Indeed,” Tassay muttered, while the three of them exchanged a quick look, which Chakotay was inclined to read as a grimace.

“Sounds a lot like a family dispute,” the commander remarked quietly, leaning toward his fellow crew members. The bridge officers exchanged glances, none of them terribly encouraging, Chakotay thought. “I’m beginning to wonder whether the Televek know what they’re doing,” he said, deciding a bit of cheerleading was in order.

“They know, Commander,” Neelix said from between the command chairs, displaying his talent for never missing a word of any conversation he was within a parsec of. “Believe me, they do.”

Thanks, Chakotay thought.

“I just hope we do,” B’Elanna said broodingly.

“So do I,” Paris confided.

Chakotay could only nod.

“Commander,” Jonal said, after an exchange that seemed to have something to do with contingencies, followed by a brief farewell.

“On behalf of our patrons we would like to renew our efforts to find avenues of cooperation and to allay our differences. We have additional information to share, which could benefit all concerned. We will begin by assuring you that if proper communications are maintained—something the three of us will see to directly, with your cooperation, of course—no further misfortunes need occur. The Televek were trying to prevent trouble, not start it, whether you believe that or not.”

“That is true, Chakotay,” Tassay said, moving closer to him now, looking at him with remarkably soulful eyes. “We must take one step back, I think, before we can move forward.”

“First, the Televek are willing to be more flexible with regard to terms,” Jonal said. This statement was accompanied by enthusiastic nods from the other two Drosary. “Second, they are prepared to coordinate efforts to locate your shuttlecraft on the planet’s surface and, if possible, to communicate with any survivors. Ultimately it may even be possible to rescue the crew, but that is more complicated, as we will explain.”

“Go right ahead,” B’Elanna said coldly, barely beating Chakotay to it.

“Please,” the commander said instead.