Star Trek: The Next Generation - 119 - Armageddon's Arrow (27 page)

27

“Stay awake, Rennan. That’s an order.”

Despite his condition, Rennan Konya still managed a weak smile as he lay on the deck in the
Arrow
’s engineering section, his head resting in T’Ryssa Chen’s lap as she caressed the side of his face. A large patch on the makeshift bandage covering the gash on his head, a piece torn from the sleeve of Chen’s blue uniform shirt, was dark with Konya’s blood, but a quick inspection had told her that the bleeding had all but stopped. The same was true for the wounds across the Betazoid’s back, which Doctor Crusher had checked a few moments earlier. Still, Konya had lost a lot of blood and his skin was pale and cold. Crusher, using her medical tricorder that Chen had found along with their phasers and other confiscated belongings, had been able to determine that his injuries were serious enough that treatment in the
Enterprise
’s sickbay was fast becoming critical. Even without medical equipment of her own, Chen was able to check Konya’s pulse with her fingers pressed to his neck, and she found it racing. He was teetering on the dangerous edge of shock. By her calculations, it had been just under fifteen minutes since Kirsten Cruzen had set off for the landing bay to retrieve a medical kit from the
Jefferies
. What was taking her so long? Had she run into trouble?

“To hell with what I said earlier,” said Crusher as she knelt next to Konya and placed her hand on his forehead. “We need to get him to the shuttle, now.” Shifting her position, she turned to face Tamala Harstad. “How about you? Think you can make it to the landing bay?”

The younger doctor nodded. “You bet.”

“I can carry him,” Chen said.

The doctor eyed her skeptically. “You’re sure?”

Chen nodded. “I’m half Vulcan, remember? I can at least get him to the shuttle.” Though she lacked the physical strength and stamina of a full Vulcan, she still was stronger than the average human. She figured that carrying Konya across her shoulders would allow her to make the transit to the landing bay. “Here’s hoping the Golvonek haven’t sabotaged the shuttle.”

“I’m never going to hear the end of this,” said Konya, slurring the words. “Am I?”

“I certainly hope not,” Chen said. She waited until Crusher checked his improvised bandages, before shifting him to help her get him to his feet. Then she heard from the far end of the room the sound of the hatch leading from the engineering section cycling open. When she turned to look in that direction, it was in time to see a half dozen Golvonek soldiers moving into the chamber. Each of them carried pulse rifles and the group was spreading out as they entered the room.

“Not this again,” said Harstad. Both Chen and Crusher were drawing their phasers when a new voice roared, echoing off the metal bulkheads.

“Stop where you are! Surrender your weapons!”

Chen recognized the voice as belonging to Foctine Vedapir, the Golvonek officer who had presided over their capture in the
Arrow
’s landing bay.
Aw, damn it all to hell
.

As members of his detail collected phasers from the away team, Chen watched Vedapir crossing the engineering chamber’s open deck, shaking his head in obvious disapproval while his gaze moved to each of the Golvonek soldiers Konya and Cruzen had dispatched.

“Under normal circumstances,” he said after moving to stand before Chen, “I would order you taken to one of our detention cells, where you would answer for the crimes of assaulting my men and interfering with our mission.”

“Assaulting your men?” Crusher snapped, and Chen glanced over her shoulder to see the doctor glowering at Vedapir. “Are you kidding? You attacked
us
, remember?” Instead of replying, the foctine’s expression clouded with annoyance and he started to step in her direction, but Chen slid over and blocked his path.

“Not a good idea,” she said, tapping her chest with a finger. “I’m in charge, so I’m responsible for these people. You deal with me.” Though she did her best to project confidence, she still felt her stomach heave as anxiety gripped her.

Behind her, Chen heard Crusher say in a soft voice, “Lieutenant.”

“Fine,” Vedapir said, leaning close. “If they do anything else which displeases me, I will kill you.”

So, they still need us alive
, Chen mused. While that was comforting, it did little to settle the knot of worry twisting in her gut.

Pointing to Chen, Vedapir looked to one of his guards. “Bring her.”

“Where are you taking her?” Konya asked. His voice was still weak, but Chen still was able to hear the defiance and even warning in his tone.

The foctine ignored the question, but instead turned and walked toward the central control tower and its array of consoles. With a push from one of the soldiers behind her, Chen followed the Golvonek officer until she stood next to one of the workstations that had escaped damage. “The main computer no longer allows access via any of the stations or monitors. Tell me why.”

Though she already knew the answer to Vedapir’s query, Chen made a show of studying the console and the readings depicted on its various monitors and indicators. “If I understand this correctly, a security lockout has been enabled.” Jodis obviously had done something while working on the
Arrow
’s bridge. She had been able to follow most of his steps, but her lack of familiarity with some aspects of the ship’s complex network of systems was still hindering her efforts.

“I know this,” replied Vedapir, waving at the station. “Tell me how to counteract what has been done.”

Chen shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ll have to study this some more before I can figure something out.” Her statement was almost a lie, but there was just enough truth behind her words to make her feel as though she had avoided breaking yet another Vulcan sacrament with respect to personal conduct.

Not yet, anyway
.

His eyes narrowing, the Golvonek stepped closer to Chen. “That is unacceptable. If you cannot assist me, then I will conclude that you are working in league with Jodis, and you will be arrested and tried as spies.”

Before she could respond to the accusation, a metallic chirp sounded from something on Vedapir’s uniform belt, and he reached into a pouch along his left hip to retrieve what Chen recognized as a communications device.

“What is it?” he growled into the unit.

“
Foctine Vedapir, this is Tanzal Singen. We have swept the forward part of the vessel and there is no sign of the prisoners
.
”

Vedapir’s irritation flared, and for an instant Chen thought he might crush the communicator. “How is that possible? There are only so many avenues of escape from that area.” He closed his eyes, drawing a deep breath before continuing, “Begin a sweep from the forward-most section and search back toward the rear. Overlook nothing, no matter how improbable a hiding place it might be. I want them found. Have all guards stationed at junctions and key areas report with current status, and do so at five
linzat
intervals.” Without waiting for a reply, he tapped a control and returned the unit to its belt pouch.

“Jodis is obviously attempting sabotage,” he said to Chen before once more pointing to the control consoles. “Tell me how he is doing this, and what his targets might be.”

“If it’s sabotage,” Chen replied, “then the obvious targets are propulsion, life-support, weapons, and the computer that controls it all.” She pointed to the console. “Looks to me like he’s got the computer, so the rest of it is just a matter of time, right?”

For the first time, Vedapir displayed genuine anger. “I grow tired of your words, outsider.” When he moved forward this time, Chen saw his hand raising as though to strike.

I don’t think so
.

One quick step placed her within arm’s reach of the Golvonek, and Chen thrust the heel of her hand up and into his chin. It was with unqualified satisfaction that she felt his head jerk in response to the sudden strike before he staggered backward. She could have opted for a nerve pinch, of course, but she decided this would send a more effective message to Vedapir and his guards, hurt more, and make her feel better.

“T’Ryss!” Konya shouted, and from the corner of her eye Chen saw him pushing himself to his feet in a noble yet futile effort to help her. The guards between her and the rest of the away team now were turning toward her, their rifles swinging in her direction, but she did not care. Vedapir was still on his feet, which irritated her more than she wanted to admit.

So hit him harder
.

Even as she moved toward him, intending to attack again before the Golvonek could respond, he was drawing his sidearm from the holster on his hip. Chen calculated the distance between them and the time left for her to reach him before he could fire the weapon, and realized she was about to come up on the bad end of that equation.

Whoops
.

Vedapir had raised his pistol to shoot when something shrieked from above and behind Chen just before a bright red ball of energy punched the foctine in the chest. It was followed by other reports and Chen flinched, dropping to one knee and raising her arms to cover her head. She saw the Golvonek soldiers dropping one by one to the floor, each of them struck by weapons fire raining down from . . . where?

As sudden as the unexpected attack had been, it ended with the same abruptness, the echoes from the energy bolts already fading. Chen turned toward the source of the fire and saw Jodis and Bnira standing at different points along one of the catwalks suspended above the curved bulkhead protecting this room’s section of the
Arrow
’s primary particle cannon. The two Raqilan both carried Golvonek pulse rifles and were moving the muzzles left to right and back again as they searched for any remaining threats.

“Do not be alarmed,” Jodis said, his voice echoing off the chamber’s bare metal walls. “We have no quarrel with you, but we will not hesitate to act if you attempt to interfere with us.”

Moving to stand with Konya and Harstad, Chen and Crusher watched as Jodis and Bnira descended a ladder connecting the catwalk. The two Raqilan took a moment to disarm the Golvonek guards, and Chen watched as Jodis verified that each of the soldiers was unconscious.

“Secure them in the storage room,” Jodis said, then gestured to the away team. “They can move them there. See to it that none of them are harmed.”

It was an unusual order, Chen thought, given the circumstances. Jodis obviously was a well-trained soldier, himself. Why would he not simply eliminate the Golvonek rather than dealing with prisoners and the problems they might cause?

While Bnira covered the away team with her rifle, Jodis, cradling his own weapon in his left arm, made his way to the central tower and began tapping a rapid-fire sequence of controls. The complex string of instructions was almost too fast for Chen to follow.

“There is extensive damage to the control systems,” he said after a moment, and Chen noted how he eyed the destroyed sections of the control tower with disapproval. “I am having to make adjustments to compensate.”

Bnira asked, “Should we relocate to a different part of the ship?”

“I have already locked out the other access points prior to routing everything here,” Jodis replied. “It would take too much time to rework the configurations, and we would have to deal with the Golvonek.” After entering more commands to the console, he added, “I have secured this section, and everything we need is here.” In response to his actions came a telltale flickering of the overhead lighting as a low, ominous hum began to fill the room.

“What is that?” Crusher asked, looking around for the source of the new sound.

Chen frowned, listening to the warbling, muffled drone. A renewed sense of apprehension gripped her as she realized what she was hearing.

“It’s the particle cannon,” she said. “He’s bringing the main weapon online.” It took her an extra moment, straining to make out the readings on the control console, to confirm her statement, and more. “Wait. He’s activating everything. He already charged all of the weapons, remember? Now he’s powering up the propulsion system.” She noted that among the systems now online was the warp drive. Fear began to grip her as she conjured various possibilities, and she looked to Bnira. “What are you doing?”

The Raqilan did not move, and the muzzle of her rifle did not waver. “We are completing our mission.”

Well, sure. That makes a warped sort of sense
.

“You can’t be serious. What’s the point of going through with it now? You missed your target by decades, and the time travel equipment is hopelessly wrecked. You’re stuck here, in this time period. What good is it to go after Uphrel now? You won’t achieve your objective, which—by the way—involves the murder of millions of innocent people no matter when you decide to do it. That’s insane just by itself, and still is, but now you won’t even be doing it for the original reasons.” Chen expected Bnira to argue with her, or to somehow put her in her place and tell her that she had no hope of understanding the complexities of this age-old conflict, but the Raqilan said nothing. She remained silent, keeping her rifle trained on the away team.