Atonement Page 31

  Her head turned sharply in response, but before Garak had come within ten meters of her, she disappeared in a cascade of light.

  Garak stood stunned, pondering this development. Filing it away for future reference, he turned his steps toward the Palais.

  21

  VOYAGER

  It didn’t take Admiral Janeway long to consider Lsia’s request. As she did so, Emem released his viselike grip on her arms and stepped toward the brig’s duty officer.

  “Your weapon, please,” Emem said, extending his hand to accept it.

  The young man looked to Janeway, who nodded. Once Emem had taken the phaser, he took a moment to adjust its settings, turned to Tirrit’s cell, took aim, and fired into it.

  To Janeway’s surprise, it functioned perfectly. To Lsia, she said, “Our weapons are useless unless one of your people activates them?”

  “Should you ever offer me your allegiance, I will explain the modification. It is for our security, nothing more.”

  Janeway chaffed at Lsia’s presumption. She understood exactly how their weapons had been disabled, but until she regained control of the ship or chose to damage several critical systems, Lsia’s modification would stand. The admiral watched as Emem repeated this procedure with each cell. When he was done, each of the canisters that Commander Glenn had created to house the Seriareen’s consciousnesses had been reduced to a steaming, warped chunk of useless metal.

  He then turned and placed the weapon at the base of Janeway’s neck.

  “We will not have this conversation again, Emem,” Lsia chastised him.

  “Even you cannot give me a reason to spare her now. She is of no further use to us.”

  “These people are not our enemies, Emem,” Lsia countered.

  Janeway disagreed, but held her peace.

  “Your rash actions have already cost us all of our former allies,” Lsia continued. “We will require new ones in short order. Should the time come when they prove to be more trouble than they are worth, we will execute all of them. Until then, we will operate under the assumption that in time, they will see the wisdom of our actions, the benefits we may offer them, and the futility in attempting to resist us.” Gesturing toward the brig’s door, Lsia said, “Admiral.”

  The group made their way into the hall. As they crowded into the turbolift that would take them to the bridge, Janeway made sure she was standing just inside the entrance. At the last moment, she jumped out and watched the turbolift doors close on their four shocked faces. She then locked the doors manually. Ducking down the hall, she sprinted toward the nearest Jefferies tube, opened the door and stepped inside, sliding down the ladder with the energy of a first-year cadet. The sound of phaser fire pinged through the hall she had just cleared. When footsteps did not follow it, she redoubled her efforts.

  Lsia had let her go. That was a mistake she would soon come to regret.

  • • • • •

  Finally free of the fear that he had been harboring a traitor within his matrix, the Doctor turned to the problem he had recently dismissed as unsolvable. Commander Glenn had been right. It was not possible to separate a Seriareen from their host by force while the host lived. According to Lsia they would naturally depart the host at the moment of death. This was not the most daunting obstacle. Depending upon how the host died, and especially under controlled circumstances, revival of a Seriareen-free individual could begin immediately. The greatest obstacle by far was the unknown. There was no way to know what a mind and body that had housed a Seriareen consciousness would look like once the essence departed. Bringing the mind back to what it had once been would likely be significantly more difficult than restoring his program and its memory files.

  The Doctor had begun to run several simulations of revival techniques that could shield the neurological system from further trauma and was considering a number of new drug combinations that might accelerate the healing process when his computer refused to accept further input.

  “Reg,” the Doctor called.

  Barclay and Counselor Cambridge had left him undisturbed once they returned to sickbay but stood together near the door to the office studying him with the care a munitions expert gave to a device that might explode at any moment.

  “Yes, Doctor?”

  “Something’s wrong with my control panel.”

  Barclay immediately crossed to the Doctor’s side and after a few frustrating attempts to restore its functions, shook his head.

  “Excuse me, please, Doctor,” Barclay said. “I’ll return as soon as I can.”

  • • • • •

  Commander B’Elanna Torres had led Decan and the security officers to main engineering by way of an arms locker on deck sixteen. There, she had retrieved a phaser for herself and offered Decan his choice of weapons. He had selected a type-2 phaser like hers.

  “Surely you do not intend to kill any officer we might find who has been taken by this Xolani. He would simply move on to another host.”

  “I know,” Torres said, her jaw tightening. “But he’ll need his host’s command codes to access our primary systems. He might not be willing to give her up right away.”

  “Her?”

  Torres nodded.

  As they turned the corner and moved double-time toward the doors to main engineering, Torres saw Admiral Janeway extricating herself from a Jefferies tube.

  Torres motioned for the team to stay put as she rushed toward Janeway. Heedless, Decan followed after her.

  “Something wrong with the turbolifts, Admiral?” Torres asked.

  “One just took Lsia, Emem, Tirrit, and Adaeze to the bridge,” Janeway replied. “Lsia spoke a single word and, I believe, activated a program similar to the one you thought you disabled. The brig’s force fields dropped. We’ve lost internal communications and have been locked out of all primary and auxiliary systems. Our weapons have been blocked by a dampening field. The range may be fairly narrow, however. Emem was able to override it with a minor adjustment.”

  “Admiral?” a voice called from the opposite end of the hall. Torres turned to see Lieutenant Barclay running toward them and breathing heavily. When he finally reached them, he started to speak, thought better of it and placed his hands on his knees to facilitate a few deeper breaths. Finally he said, “Something is wrong with sickbay’s control systems.”

  “They’ve ceased to function?” Janeway guessed.

  Barclay nodded vehemently.

  “Lsia has control of the ship,” Torres realized as they hurried back toward the security team.

  “Have you found Xolani?” Janeway asked.

  “No, but I have a pretty good idea where he is.”

  Janeway nodded. “If it’s the same program, how quickly can you override it and restore control of our systems to us?”

  “It won’t be the same program,” Torres replied bitterly. “That was a feint, meant to lull us into complacency.”

  Janeway nodded, then considered the security team. “Cover all of the exits,” she ordered. “No one leaves engineering without my authorization. Lieutenant Barclay, wait here,” she added.

  “If I’m right, and he’s in there, how do we take him down?” Torres asked. “Can we risk stunning him?”

  Janeway looked to Decan. He nodded. “I don’t think that will be necessary,” the admiral replied.

  “Hand to hand?” Torres asked.

  “Something like that.”

  Barclay stepped aside as Janeway and Torres led the security team into main engineering.

  There was a tangible sense of tension in the air. Several officers reported simultaneous system failures. Lieutenant Conlon stood at the main control panel that faced the combined warp/slipstream core. Her back was to them.

  A few officers took note of their arrival and paused in their efforts. Lieutenant Decan stepped forward and briefly studied each face. After pausing for a few extra seconds on Lieutenant Conlon, he turned to Torres and nodded. The Vulcan then stepped silently closer to
Voyager’s chief engineer.

  A wave of nausea similar to the ones that had crippled her in the first months of her pregnancy washed through Torres. She had allowed herself to hope, even though she had known better as soon as the Doctor recounted Xolani’s memories. Conlon’s unusual insensitivity had been easy to dismiss, given her stress levels. The obvious errors in her report on the power surges, however, Torres should have taken more seriously. She didn’t believe that Conlon had been compromised for long. As she thought back over the last few weeks, it seemed likely that Conlon had been taken either just before or immediately after she had begun repairs on the holodecks. Still, Torres doubted that there was anything the Doctor would be able to do to save her friend now. That reality not only sickened her, it enraged her.

  As a rule, Torres did everything with the entirety of her being. Her love was as fierce as her grudges. Every loss she had ever suffered hit her with the same intensity as the one that had defined her: her father’s rejection and departure when she was still a young girl.

  She hadn’t known Conlon very long, but given the number of their interactions and her easy companionship, Nancy had become part of Torres’s inner circle.

  Now she was gone.

  Clearly sensing a shift in the room, Conlon lifted her head from the panel and turned. Her eyes widened in alarm as she noted the new arrivals.

  “Commander, I’m so glad you’re here,” she said. “We have a problem. A few minutes ago, I was locked out of our primary systems. I’m trying to override it, but my command codes aren’t working.”

  Janeway shot a questioning gaze toward Decan. He shook his head in response.

  “We do have a problem,” Janeway agreed, “but my guess is you won’t be interested in helping us solve it, will you, Xolani?”

  Conlon’s hands dropped to her sides. She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin defiantly. “If you harm this body, I will simply take another.”

  “We know,” Decan said, taking the initiative. With his hands raised before him to demonstrate that he meant no harm, he closed the distance between them, saying, “Your species is unlike any we have ever encountered, and having spent so much time among us, you must realize by now that it is not in our nature to simply destroy what we do not understand.”

  Xolani considered him warily.

  “It may not be in their natures, but it still runs awfully strong in half of mine,” Torres said, moving closer. “Step away from that panel.”

  Xolani turned and raised an arm to counter Torres’s movement. Decan used the momentary distraction to place his right hand to Conlon’s shoulder, his thumb resting on her trapezius nerve bundle. A quick pinch and Conlon’s body fell to the deck like a bag of rocks.

  • • • • •

  Captain Chakotay knew this place: the calm before the storm. His nerves stretched taut with each minute that passed without word from Kathryn. They were near to breaking. He reminded himself that control was an illusion. To attempt to assert it now would lead to rash, ill-conceived actions. He must surrender to reality as it unfolded and wait to act until he was certain of his advantage.

  After confirming that the bridge crew retained sole custody of their bodies, Lieutenant Lasren had been dispatched to join a security crew and begin his deck-by-deck search for Xolani. Waters had taken his station at ops.

  Lieutenant Aubrey manned the tactical post. Devi Patel had no end of unusual readings to keep her busy at her science station. Gwyn sat ready at the helm, making slight adjustments as the wastes buffeted them about, even at station-keeping. Lieutenant Kim sat at his left hand, General Mattings at his right.

  The storm was about to break. He considered the myriad possible permutations of the threat he was about to face. When Ensign Gwyn reported that the helm had grown sluggish and Patel advised moments later that her panel was no longer responding, he rose to his feet.

  “This is Captain Chakotay to all hands. Red alert.”

  The lights above did not dim, nor did alarm klaxons sound. Chakotay tapped his combadge again and realized that it did not bleep to alert him that a channel had been opened.

  “Waters, is the comm system down?” Chakotay asked.

  “Aye, sir,” she replied.

  “What does that mean?” Mattings asked, rising to stand beside the captain.

  “It means someone is interfering with our operations. I’d be amazed if the next report doesn’t confirm that we’ve lost access to all of our primary systems.”

  “Does this happen a lot around here?” Mattings inquired.

  “More often than I’d like,” Chakotay admitted. “Secure the bridge,” he ordered.

  All bridge officers retrieved their personal sidearms and readied themselves to meet an attack. Aubrey and Kim covered the turbolift entrance while Waters and Patel moved to do the same for the deck entrance.

  “My weapon was not transported aboard with me, Captain,” Mattings noted.

  “That’s standard procedure,” Chakotay said. “Our transporter buffers remove them.”

  “Without it, I’m not much use to you in a fight.”

  “We’ll protect you with our lives if need be, General.”

  “I know that. I’d just like to return the favor.”

  “You already did when you rescued our admiral,” Chakotay reminded him.

  Silent anticipation gnawed at Chakotay’s innards. Finally, the turbolift doors slid open and Lsia stepped out. Aubry’s and Kim’s phasers were immediately trained on her.

  “Welcome to the bridge,” Chakotay said. “Lieutenant Kim?”

  “Don’t move,” Kim advised Lsia.

  She turned to him and smiled benevolently. “Lower your weapon,” she said.

  “I don’t think so,” Kim replied.

  At this, Emem stepped forward.

  “Remain where you are,” Kim ordered.

  Emem replied by lifting his phaser toward the lieutenant. Kim immediately fired. The phaser clicked in his hand, useless.

  “Mine doesn’t have that problem,” Emem advised him.

  Kim stepped back as every officer on the bridge pointed their phasers at the intruders and verified that theirs were as useless as their first officer’s.

  “I understand from Admiral Janeway that you have detected a large energy field,” Lsia said as her companions moved calmly onto the bridge.

  “We have,” Chakotay said. “Where is Admiral Janeway?”

  “Probably in main engineering by now,” Lsia replied. “She chose at the last minute not to join us and is certainly working to restore control of your ship to your crew. She will find that a daunting task.”

  “I’m willing to wait,” Chakotay said.

  “I am not,” Lsia said. “Stations, gentlemen,” she ordered. Emem moved to the tactical panel above the bridge’s chairs. Tirrit moved to operations. Adaeze hurried to Patel’s science station as Lsia stepped down into the command well and approached the conn. As they did so, they relieved all of the bridge officers of their weapons.

  “Everybody step aside,” Chakotay ordered.

  Confused faces met his as Lsia said, “A wise choice, Captain.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Mattings observed. “I realize your weapons are useless, Captain, but we do have them outnumbered.”

  “We do. We might even successfully subdue most of them. Of course we can’t risk killing them. That would just add to the body count when they choose their new hosts from among my bridge crew. And Lsia is a hologram. She can assume any form she wishes and would be pretty hard to beat in a stand-up fight.”

  “You’re just going to allow her to take your ship from you?”

  “I didn’t say that. Admiral Janeway and at least two of the best engineers in Starfleet are working right now to reverse whatever Lsia did to seize control of the ship. I don’t think we should make their job any harder by forcing Lsia’s hand. In my experience, raw power grabs of Starfleet vessels rarely end well for the grabbers. This ship has thousan
ds of moving parts. It takes a minimum of forty-seven people to run all critical stations. She’s got five at the most.”

  Mattings smiled uncertainly. “You’re taking an awful lot on faith here.”

  “That’s because I’ve invested it in extraordinary people.”

  “Captain?” Ensign Gwyn called from the conn. She stood over Lsia, studying the readings on the navigation panel.

  “Report,” Chakotay ordered.

  “You might want to sit down. Everybody else should hang on to something,” Gwyn advised.

  Chakotay sensed forward motion beneath his feet as the image on the main viewscreen began to rotate.

  “She’s taking us toward the energy field, isn’t she?” Chakotay asked.

  “Aye, sir,” Gwyn replied.

  Chakotay sat. Mattings did not.

  “General.”

  “I’m accustomed to standing at times like this,” he said.

  Chakotay shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

  “Corridor six-nine-one-seven-two-eight is showing sixty-two percent viability,” Tirrit reported from ops.

  “The containment-field diameter is eight times greater than anticipated,” Adaeze added.

  “Eight?” Lsia asked, alarmed.

  “He must be hungry,” Emem noted.

  He? Chakotay thought. Hungry?

  “Executing corridor transversion in five, four, three,” Lsia counted down.

  Chakotay grabbed his armrests as the ship began to buck under the strain of the wastes’ instabilities. As before, he experienced a brief sensation of freefall before the corridor Lsia had targeted—for what he assumed was a maneuver similar to Gwyn’s bounce—pulled Voyager forward.

  The sudden acceleration that followed pressed him firmly back into his seat.

  “You might want to adjust the inertial dampeners,” Waters advised Tirrit. “It’s that one, there,” she added, pointing to her control panel.

  “Do as she says,” Lsia ordered.

  Chakotay expected Lsia to slow the ship when they reached the end of the corridor seam’s stability. Instead, she only made a light course correction as they returned to normal space.

  She then repeated the same maneuver flawlessly two more times, using the next two nearest corridors.