July 2014
Disclaimer: See Chapters One & Two.
Chapter Nine
Silver Racer
Dawn light filtered into the room getting brighter as the nearby sun rose in the eastern sky setting the lingering night clouds aflame with a sullen red colour, the known herald of a rainy day ahead. The room's occupant stirred to wakefulness and wondered what the day would hold, whilst mentally reviewing recent events on Rigel Prime and how they'd managed to get tied up in all the mess. It was not a pretty thought that occupied the female's mind as she got out of bed and set about her morning routine, barking one word at the hapless replicator:
"Coffee!"
The thoughts that continued to tumble through her mind as she sipped the strong black brew were as sullen as the weather outside the ship and dark towards one person, recalling the words and phrases the hooded man had spoken in that so well known voice.
=/\=
A soft gurgling purr sounded in his ears as he stirred to wakefulness, his lips pulled into an inviting smile at the sound of his little friend. He could also pick up the jealousy from the little blue dragon.
"You have nothing to fear from me, Azure," he said opening his eyes to look at both dragons sitting on his chest, projecting his calm thoughts towards them both. Azure's eyes looked baleful at first and then gradually softened into the same deep amber to match Rozene's whirling eyes. Again she purred the contended sound that reverberated right through he's whole being. Chakotay knew from the sharp sound the little male made that his dark eyes were reflecting the feelings Rozene was projecting to him, but he also knew that the contentment was for them both and he hoped he was conveying that to Azure, who then made his own contented sound, yet projecting it only to the little female, making Chakotay smile amused.
"Are they still enamoured?" asked a female quietly.
"Morning, Cyra," he responded verbally allowing his tone rather than his words to answer her question. She laughed lightly and soon stood in his line of sight, allowing the morning sunlight to highlight her face and purple/black hair, giving her an air of natural elfin beauty.
"Good morning," she said almost purring herself. This caused Rozene to turn sharply to the humanoid woman and utter the same annoyed sound Azure had made. Chakotay chuckled, the sound rumbling mainly in his chest, his eyes amused, that he was the centre of so much love and jealousy.
"Time for some breakfast, I think," he muttered, shifting in his temporary bed, feeling his stomach rumble; his gentle movements encouraging both dragons to allow him to sit up. They reluctantly parted and flew to the laid table, making a beeline for the bowl of prepared fruit, where they quietly shared it with each other. Azure offered the little red/gold female the choicest pieces in a loving and caring manner. The two humanoids watched their antics for a moment and then quietly joined in selecting their own breakfast and eating in companionable silence, as they reflected on events of the previous afternoon and evening.
Cyra sighed deeply once she'd finished eating her face troubled. Chakotay's silent expression prompted her to comment:
"I think Fox has been used by Da'Kin to cover his own shadowy activities," her tone sad. "I always knew the man was ambitious but not to the point of killing his own kin," her face really troubled. Both dragons looked at her and then flew over to her each with a piece of fruit in their paws, making Chakotay smile at their antics of comfort. Cyra smiled softly at them both. "I wish things was that simple to solve," she said.
"Maybe they are," he said startling her as he moved closer to the woman. "Your brother's message; I think it may hold more than you know."
"The birdmen of Rapa Nui?" she asked frowning puzzled at him.
"We'll just have to wait and see what the council of colony Elders decide."
"If Da'Kin will let them!" her tone bitter.
"Della's evoking of First Law means he has no choice in the matter," he softly reminded her.
"I thought your Prime Directive forbade you from getting involved," she teased softly, covering her surprise at his knowledge of their laws and cultural ways.
"In a manner of speaking it does," he sighed softly and took the piece of apple Rozene handed him. "But Voyager is well and truly stuck in the molasses of this political quagmire, Prime Directive or no Prime Directive," he said with a sad sigh, popping the fruit into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully. Cyra understood his dilemma and patted his arm in silent comfort, her own thoughts just as troubled as his.
=/\=
"A contest?" her tone sceptical sitting with her current senior staff in the briefing lounge, having listened to the Talaxian's report of what was happening on Rigel Prime in general and to Chakotay in particular. "We can't participate in any contest, or any more of Rigel's affairs for that matter," she growled softly annoyed.
"We don't have much of a choice," noted Harry Kim as wary as the Talaxian had been earlier in making the announcement to their Captain.
"Cmdr. Chakotay was formally invited by the full Council of Elders to take part," Neelix said firmly, still unsure of the Captain's mood and response; he'd been the only member of the senior staff allowed to leave the ship and hear the Council's degree and speak with the Commander directly.
"I hope he didn't accept," she snapped, glaring at the hapless alien male.
"As has already been stated, we do not have a choice in this matter," Tuvok said steel behind his tone, as if he were talking to a wayward child rather than a full grown woman and his commanding officer. "Cmdr. Chakotay is still under suspicion of killing Princess Della. Until proven otherwise he is on probation and therefore required to participate in this contest," he paused to gauge her reaction. She just watched him dispassionately giving rise to his suspicions that she might still be compromised by Lovers.
"If Chakotay is on probation, where does that leave us?" Paris asked warily as if dreading the answer.
"Officially impounded."
Janeway's face morphed through several different and alarming expressions as she processed this new factually said statement, giving rise to serious concerns among her staff not least the EMH and the Chief of Security; but until the former could perform a full metabolic medical scan of the female Captain – which she was not likely to allow at that moment – the worried crew members had no way of proving she was compromised in anyway so they'd have to sit tight on the matter until a favourable opportunity did arise.
"Meaning we're not going anywhere anytime soon," spoke the weary voice of Lieutenant Torres.
"What does participation in this contest involve?" asked Seven after a moment of contemplative silence.
"It is a shuttle race," Neelix informed them warming to his subject. "Each colony or house can enter a small shuttle with pilot and co-pilot. They then race to a planet within the nearby nebula – the Horsehead nebula I believe it's being called – and take three items they find there. Mineral, vegetable, matter or animal, yet only what is needed. This is not a contest of speed – who returns first, although that will be a factor – but of skills; piloting, sound judgement, good decision making, following the rules and choices made; thus the winner is judged on their flight path, choice of items returned with and how they conduct themselves for the house or colony they have chosen to represent. If an alien or outsider is asked to take part then their chosen co-pilot must be a true born Rigellian," Neelix explained with his usual enthusiasm.
"Who is Chakotay's choice?" Torres asked quietly, feeling her husband fidget beside her as she knew he'd loved to fly the nebula again.
"Raoul as co-pilot and the Royal House of Rigel Prime," the Talaxian announced proudly.
"But there is no Royal House!" said Janeway.
"That is what that hooded fellow said, but Cmdr. Chakotay is adamant that is the house he will represent and no other."
"Have the Council of Elders agreed?" asked Tuvok softly, stalling any verbal response from Janeway.
"Yes. No problem as far as they can see. Oh one other thing, Captain," he paused to gather his resolve. "The Commander has requested use of the Delta Flyer." No-one spoke as they awaited their commanding officer's response to the request.
"Very well," she agreed reluctantly, and then added: "Mr. Paris, see that the Flyer is stripped of all sensitive and non-essential equipment, first. Dismissed," she said firmly and stood to stand at the view ports, her straight back also an effective silent dismissal. Quietly the senior staff took their leave. Outside the door of the Briefing lounge Neelix turned puzzled to Paris and Torres.
"The Commander needs the Flyer in half an hour as they are to be weighed and then the contest starts. How long will it take to strip the Delta Flyer?" he asked worried as they walked to the nearest turbo-lift.
"All equipment? Days at least," the pilot informed him softly as the three of them stepped into the shaft-car. "Neelix how did Chakotay ask for the Flyer?" frowning puzzled as the alien male called for deck two.
"He said – Ask Cochrane to bring the Flyer," he quoted as the car stopped on his deck.
"I think I know what he meant. Thanks Neelix, see you soon," he called as the doors closed behind their departed friend's back. Torres cuddled up close to her husband grinning broadly, realising like him what 'The Big Guy' had really asked for as the shaft-car took them down into the bowels of their ship.
=/\=
The Starfleet marked shuttle softly touched down on the open plaza among the rest of the assembled Rigellian vessels adding a touch of refinement to the mismatched bunch of small vessels gathered ready for the weigh-in. Raoul stood sullen-looking beside the tattooed male, yet he appreciated the sleek speed lines of this alien shuttle.
"That is not the Delta Flyer," said an angry accusing voice.
"No its not," responded a youthful voice, its owner exiting the shuttle and joining his commander. "But this one is just as fast, manoeuvrable and light," he paused and looked longingly at the sleek lines of the Type nine shuttle Cochrane. "I wish I was going with you," his blue eyes eager.
"Another time perhaps," noted a nearby Rigellian official.
"Yeah!" he acknowledged with a sigh. He turned to Chakotay holding out a data chip. "The Delta Flyer is to undergo essential repairs and that means stripping her back down to basics which will take days," he informed to those around him in general, noting the angry expression of the tall Rigellian male who'd made the accusation about the Cochrane not being the Flyer as if the switch was a spanner in his works. "As there is a possible breach of security, this has your new command codes."
"Understood," Chakotay acknowledged, taking the chip firmly.
"Good luck Poocuh." The pilot's use of his old Maquis nickname, told Chakotay more than was heard.
"Thanks Tom. We'll do our best." He and his co-pilot were asked to get aboard so their vessel's weigh could be determined and then they could join the racing line-up.
"Something tells me Da'Kin is up to no-good," noted Raoul warily, watching the dark Rigellian male board his vessel to their left, through the Cochrane's forward view ports, taking the seat on Chakotay's right.
"Familiarise yourself with your board," he ordered putting the data chip in place. At first there didn't appear to be anything on the chip, but he left it in place and continued his pre-flight checks; the use of Paris' Maquis nickname for him still ringing in his ears as this was the second time it had passed the pilot's lips, since coming to Rigel, in a way it told him to leave the chip alone for now. He also knew – perhaps better than Raoul – how much they would have to watch out for Da'Kin and his schemes during this race as the male had already lodged other complaints and accusations in Chakotay's direction, but Elders Padarn and Sheldon would not be moved on his participation or his choices of co-pilot and house. "I'll answer all your questions, Raoul after the start of the race," he said concentrating on his own board as he spoke, stalling the Rigellian's words from tumbling out of his mouth, questions that had shown clearly across his youthful face. Thus the younger man nodded and vocalised the fact that the data for the race destination had been uploaded; it was just awaiting the signal to fire up and get underway.
=/\=
"The race of the century is about to get underway..." The announcer said, his over zealous voice fading into the background as Paris turned down the volume, whilst the crew settled into their seats in his fifties styled cinema re-creation on the holodeck so that they could watch the live broadcast of the race. Tom smiled to himself amused by the fact that it didn't matter where you were in space, alien or human their news media/broadcasts appeared to be universal in the way they reported events; over zealous, over dramatised and often over embellishing certain facts whilst ignoring others. In some respect it almost made him feel at home, almost. He joined B'Elanna and Neelix sitting near the front of the house, the remote control for the cinema in his hands.
"Hey, Paris! Where's the sound?" a male voice shouted at him.
"You'll have it when everyone is settled," he responded pleasantly taking his seat next to B'Elanna. "Don't Torres," he whispered in her ear, stalling her retort. She just glared at him, but thankfully turned to face the screen as he settled down beside her.
"Why did you take that shuttle?" Neelix asked clearly puzzled.
"It was the one he asked for."
"Explain!" came the crisp snapped inquiry from Seven sitting stiffly in the seat behind along with Icheb.
"It's really quite simple. Neelix would you repeat what Chakotay said?" his tone mild yet amused.
"He said – Ask Cochrane to bring the Flyer," he quoted softly puzzled.
"There are no persons by that name aboard Voyager," noted Icheb.
"True, but Cochrane was a real person, the father of warp flight you might say and his name is aboard Voyager."
"Ah! Of course the shuttle that bears his name."
"And 'Flyer'?" questioned Seven.
"Well I am the Chief Flight Control Officer and my wife's nickname for me is 'Flyboy'."
"You got that right – Flyboy," snapped the Chief Engineer. Tom grinned at her and noted that Icheb was smiling as the penny dropped; even Neelix was smiling and nodding in understanding also.
"Flyer being another name for pilot, I assume."
"Yes, Seven," Tom acknowledged her, grinning at her matter-of-fact tone. Ayala signalled to Paris that everyone who was coming was ready, so he dimmed the lighting and increased the volume again.
"...That's the preliminaries of all nine participants..."
"Yeah? Something we missed!" snapped the earlier male voice over everyone heads.
"Stow it Bristow!" Torres snapped back before her husband could prevent her. Silence descended around them and the announcer's voice intruded again.
"...All checks have now been completed, although I believe there was some concern about the alien shuttles weapons; as for all participants there are to be no weapons or at least no power based weapons and only defensive strength weapons on the shuttles themselves. Not that anyone would want to fire weapons into the nebula as there are many different gas pockets that could ignite and thus they'd be engulfed in a fireball in seconds..."
"He got that right," Tom muttered softly, feeling and echoing the tension that was permeating the area as they were all concerned about Cmdr. Chakotay and his chances in this race.
"...Two support vessels will be following the shuttles should any require assistance. The officials have cleared all the vessels and they are now awaiting the signal to start."
Silence descended, no-one breathed a word or sound.
=/\=
In her Ready Room Janeway stood silently at the viewports watching the open plaza that housed the assortment of small vessels waiting to start the race, the Cochrane's silver/grey hull standing out like a sore thumb amidst the dark hulled and storm worn vessels around it. She sensed rather than heard the male step quietly into her domain.
"Don't, Tuvok. I don't want to hear it!" she snapped, not turning round.
"Indeed," his tone mild, if not a little amused by her anger. "You could not have known that your meeting A'Gerin would lead to this point," he summarised softly voicing what she was so obviously thinking. He saw her shoulders sag as she let out a deep breathed sigh.
"But we should be upholding our principled directives no matter what, Tuvok," her tone still angry.
"We have done so; the Commander especially so," he informed her calmly.
The sudden roar of many small engines lifting off precluded any response from her as the racers lifted up into the sky and beyond. Once they were all out of sight – including the Cochrane – she finally turned to face her long time friend and Security Chief and sat down on the window seating.
"Now we wait!" the finality of her tone troubled the Vulcan, wondering what it would mean for the crew in general and Cmdr. Chakotay in particular.
=/\=
"...looks like some of the outer colony vessels are in the lead at full speed ahead with the support vessels flanking the racers on either side. The two vessels representing the houses of Rigel Prime appear to be holding back as they travel behind the other seven shuttles. All the vessels have only enough power/fuel to get them to the planet, but not back, that is one of the things they will have to find on the planet for the return journey. So over use of fuel now could be foolhardy," the Announcer said a warning note in his tone.
His words were silently echoed by everyone on Voyager as they watched the nine small shuttles speed towards the swirling gases of the Horsehead nebula. The bright colours of the nebula clouds dwarfed the little crafts as if challenging their right to enter the swirling eddies, electrical storms and updrafts. Paris remembered how those eddies and storms had pushed the Flyer away from their aimed for target. Their scans showed that the electrical storms were not as strong as when he and B'Elanna had travelled the nebula, which is why the race was being run now, before those storms strengthen again and closed the planet off from all comers; but it still wouldn't be an easy ride.
"Let's hope the shield enhancement works," he said softly.
"We have done our sums right, Lieutenant; there is no reason to suppose that they won't do the task for which they are programmed to do." Tom Paris smiled broadly at the young man who'd spoken and sat behind him with Seven, who nodded her agreement of Icheb's statement.
"Shield enhancements?" questioned Neelix quietly.
"Ever since that raid by those technology pirates some months back, we've been working on a way to enhance the shield harmonics so as to alert us should someone try a similar trick again, so we can protect ourselves," Paris explained. "It isn't the first time we've been caught on the hop, by others infiltrating our security and shields," his mind recalling some of those events over the past few years they'd been in the Delta Quadrant. The crew hadn't misnamed it Dangerous Quarter for nothing.
"This race gives us the perfect opportunity to test the program, before we try to apply it to Voyager," added Torres. "The Flyer or any Starfleet ship for that matter creates a bubble shape for its shields around the ship in order to protect it from harm, whatever form that may take."
"...Oh dear, folks! One of the shuttles has been knocked out having tried to just plough headlong into the swirling gases. The support vessel is closing in and is trying to establish a transporter lock on the crew." The Announcer's voice urgent; the pause in the narrative was deafening. "Good news people, they're safe, but their shuttle broke up just after transport."
"So what's different with these new shields?" asked the Talaxian, his eyes glued to the screen and the racers.
"The enhancements should fit like a glove, except for the nacelles, as they won't be able to create a stable warp field, if encased within these new shields."
"Ah, I see. Looks like another vessel is out," he added to the announcer's narrative, making his friends smile. Kim quietly joined them, having been finishing up some Operations work on the Bridge.
"How's it going?"
"See for yourself, Harry."
"...Two vessels down, but at least the crews are safe. What is Da'Kin doing? He's getting very close to the alien Commander's shuttle. Hey up he's going for one of those pods that power the alien's shuttle. That's against the rules, I believe..."
"Men like him don't play by the rules," growled Torres, murmurs of agreement pulsed around her.
"To right they don't!" said Bristow loudly.
"You can give him double shifts when next we're in space," her husband whispered quietly appeasing her.
"...That Alien Commander sure knows how to get out of a tight spot. He's managed to put some distance between himself and Da'Kin. Another vessel is in trouble, a fire on board, overheating engines is being reported and yet they checked out fine by the officials at the start, what happened there? We're now down to six vessels remaining. Gruelling! Hey where's the Alien gone? Oh there he is! How did he end up there? My knowledgeable techs here tell me he's using the swirling eddies to speed to the planet. Da'Kin's following him in; his vessel looks a little sluggish as if there's extra weight. He's made it to the next eddy. Whoa up another vessel has dropped out having used a different eddy and been thrown out. Support is on its way as they're dead and drifting. Life signs are still registering so that's a relief. Five vessels have made it into the nebula. Wait up; reports are coming in of distress calls having just been received from another of the racers. You're not going to believe this folks; but the call is coming from two parses away."
"I can believe it," Paris said softly remembering the longer journey he and B'Elanna had made from their bareback horse riding to Rigel Prime in the Delta Flyer.
"You did include that data we picked up from Gar'vin?" she asked quietly recalling the same journey.
"Yes, Lanna!" putting his arm around her holding her close.
"...A faster support vessel has been dispatched to answer the distressed shuttle; they hope to make direct contact within the next hour or two. It will still take another three hours before they have any visual contact with the vessel, and then they'll transport the crew and shuttle aboard. This nebula sure isn't giving up its secrets easily. The four remaining vessels are now on their own; we will be unable to monitor their flight or plight until they start to make their return journey. Let us hope they find something worthwhile on the planet for all Rigel and make good choices in what they bring back for all to share. What a race – so far! Pity it had to be played out against the loss of Rigel's Royal House..."
