Chapter 15
T'Pel sat in the guest quarters which housed the Vulcan Redeemer children. The children were scattered around the room. Most sat in stony silence waiting for T'Pel to leave them alone.
T'Pel crouched down next to T'Kal, who had become the de facto leader of the Redeemer children after Ja'Nel had fallen into a coma. "T'Kal, tell me, are you not concerned for your friend?" Her question was probing, but her tone was gentle.
The young Vulcan girl looked at her somewhat defiantly, but after a moment she nodded.
"I believe that Ja'Nel will recover," added T'pel. "His mind is damaged, but not broken." The girl seemed to search TPel's face for some bit of truth and then she nodded again slowly.
The girl looked down at her hands. While she was looking away, T'Pel's eyes flitted around the room to the other children until they rested on the smallest boy, Thar, the mechanic. Although he was smaller than the others, his eyes bore a confidence the others lacked. She had already attempted to question him once before and he had stubbornly refused to say anything of substance. As she caught his eye, she noted, and not for the first time, a familiar look in his eyes. Instead of looking away shyly, he continued to stare, seeming to dare her to question him.
Without taking her eyes off Thar, she posed another question to the girl, T'Kal. "Ja'Nel is your brother, is he not? Blood bonds are not easily broken," she added. Thar's eyes narrowed, and then instantly his grey pupils were replaced by a blackness she had seen only once before. It was a though his eyes now represented a mask of sorts, attempting to hide the little boy's soul.
The Getaway
The Andorians stayed on his trail, but he soon found the shuttle bay Zatha had mentioned, and slid inside. The bay appeared to be empty of crew members, and his spirits soared for a moment when his eyes rested on a swift looking little shuttle.
He was yanked back to the gritty reality of the moment, when he heard two sets of feet halt outside the door and then he heard Andorian being spoken in hushed tones. He knew they would try and capture him. It was unlikely that Zatha had given them permission to harm him, but he could not be sure. Her motives were still a mystery to him.
He double-checked the stun setting on the weapon and pressed himself into the wall adjacent to the doorway, trying to calm his breathing, which sounded harsh to his own ears. The next moments were a blur. The Andorians came in one at a time, the larger man stepping in first. Without hesitation, Picard fired the weapon in the air just above the Andorian's head, and as he had hoped, the shock of the blast stunned the man's antennae, throwing off his balance, and sending him spinning to the ground.
The man writhed in obvious pain and shock, but the Captain had little time to feel any remorse. He ducked as the second Andorian entered the room swiftly, swinging a very sharp, very large knife at Picard's chest. Later on he would reflect that perhaps they had not been so concerned about harming him after all. Picard back peddled, just avoiding being sliced, but he felt a jarring in his forearm as the knife connected with the gun, and yanked it violently from his grip.
Forgetting about the gun and not daring to take his eyes off the swinging blade, Picard stepped to the side, just as the Andorian lunged in, and slammed his fist down on the Andorian's head, yanking one of his antennae down and away from his head. The Andorian screamed and followed in the direction of his sensitive antennae, which was being yanked toward the floor. The Andorian flailed his arms as he fell, and as he was still holding the knife, sliced through Picard's right pant leg on his way down. Picard stumbled, picked up the sidearm, and stunned both Andorians as they lay sprawled on the floor. He knew that the knife had just grazed him; since the wound started on his upper inner thigh and worked its way down, he thought better of checking it at that moment, and instead ran for the nearest shuttle.
He ran his hands over the outside of the shuttle door, looking for a handle, a palm print, anything, to get it to open. Finding a small but uniform indentation on the right hand side of the hatch, a thought occurred to him. Examining Zatha's weapon, he saw that a small key-like protrusion on the butt of the weapon appeared to be a good match for the indent on the shuttle door. He plugged it in, and was delighted to hear a hiss of air, and the shuttle door lifted up. He leapt in, and shut the door behind him, clambering into the pilot's seat.
He ran his hands uncertainly over the controls until he found the thrusters and then fired them up. The shuttle suddenly shuddered and he realized with newfound concern that he was being fired upon. Turning the view screen on to target aft, he saw that a new Andorian soldier had entered the shuttle bay and had hoisted some kind of rocket launcher on his shoulder. A green energy beam issued from the oversized weapon and struck the shuttle. "I've got to get the hell out of here before I'm blown out of here," he muttered to himself. He could feel his right leg beginning to burn, but still he chose not to look down. He could not afford the distraction.
Picard saw on the aft view screen that one of the Andorians he had disabled had gotten to his feet and was manning a console. The man was overriding the controls, trying to make sure he couldn't lower the shuttle bay doors. Quickly becoming desperate, Picard told himself to remain calm and searched for an instrument or touch pad he hoped would show him the way.
He found a lever with odd markings overhead and yanked it down hoping for the best. Sure enough, in response a laser cannon slowly extended from the front of the shuttle. As he increased power to the thrusters vertically, the shuttle wavered, taking another hit from the firing Andorians, but he could not afford to put up the shuttle's shields just yet. Gripping the lever and turning it clockwise, the cannon rotated until it was aimed at the outer doors. Grimacing, he flipped a safety lock on the lever, and pressed the fire button. Blue-green pulses emitted from the cannon and burst a very convenient hole through the bay doors.
Beverly Crusher looked up from her work, as Deanna Troi walked into her office unexpectedly. The Counselor seemed determined to catch her off guard on a fairly regular basis. "My, you are persistent," she thought to herself, and could not help but smile slightly. If Troi read her thoughts, she made no indication that she minded the silent jab.
"Hello, Counselor," said Beverly. "Any sign of my son out there? He was supposed to meet me here after school, but I just got so immersed in busy work that I lost track of time."
Deanna smiled. "No, I'm sorry Beverly, but no, I didn't see him."
Beverly kept a neutral smile planted on her face, as she held her data pad loosely in one hand. She resisted the urge to tap the desk expectantly with the fingers of her other hand. Instead she said "So, what can I do for you, Deanna?"
Deanna smiled. How nice it was to hear someone besides Will use her first name. Progress, she supposed. "I wanted to apologize if I seemed too forward with you the other day. We had barely met and I was questioning your relationship with your son, and the Captain. I overstepped, and I can see how this might have upset you," she added.
Crusher frowned. "Did I seem upset?"
"Yes."
"Well, I certainly didn't mean to be. It's been so busy, really that I haven't had time to think about any of those…things you mentioned."
Troi nodded. "The truth is, most people on Betazed happen to be very assertive. It is an aspect of my personality that helps me to help others confront fears they are not willing to encounter on their own. But I am half human as well," she added.
Crusher raised quizzical eyebrows. "And what does your human side help you with, if I might ask?"
Troi sighed. "Well, it helps me to understand why some humans might not be so receptive to my attempts to counsel them."
"Humans like me, you mean?"
"Humans like you," Troi said with a smile. She opened her mouth to say something else, when the office was suddenly bathed in yellow, and alarms began to blare.
Lt. Tasha Yar, wiped the sweat from her brow as she backed out of Jeffries Tube # 75, and planted both feet on the deck. She turned to look at her colleague, who was inputting information into his tricorder. "That's it," said Yar. "Last one. Let's mark it," she said, slamming the hatch shut.
Data glanced up from reading his tricorder. He fiddled with the settings and then held the tricorder over the handle of the hatch. Data waved it slowly up and down coating the handle as the instrument emitted an invisible, odorless marking agent that would allow them to track anyone who used the Jeffries tube. The marker would leave an invisible imprint, penetrating even gloved hands, and allow Yar to track the individual anywhere on the ship. Since the crew had been notified that the tubes were off limits for the next few days, except in cases of emergency, the only people entering the tube would be people not authorized to be there.
Yar gestured to one of her security officers. "Marks, over here," she shouted. The young man jogged over and handed Yar a pad, which she began to study it earnestly.
Data closed up the tricorder with a snap. "Lt., we have finished our investigation of the Jeffries Tubes, and we have found no evidence of Ra'Val. In addition, you have accounted for all civilian crew, Starfleet personnel, as well as the Vulcan children, and no other humanoid persons have been detected. The ship's sensors have confirmed these findings," observed Data.
"That's right," said Yar, not looking up from her report.
"The chances of an adult Vulcan male being able to avoid detection on board the Enterprise are—"
"Very slim?" said Yar. "I agree. But the Captain demanded that we carry out a search, and that's what I've done. I'm nothing if not thorough, Data," she added with a tough smile.
"You seem to suggest that despite the futility of this exercise, you will carry it through," observed Data.
Yar's smile faded. "Was there ever any question? I'm under orders," said Yar.
"I am curious," said Data. "If Captain Picard gave you an order you considered…unwise, would you still carry it out?"
The young woman's eyes narrowed. "Without question! Wouldn't you?"
Data nodded. "In almost every scenario, yes. However, of course if the Captain gave an order which conflicted with the Prime Directive, or put the crew unreasonably at-risk-"
"That would never happen," snapped Yar, crossing her arms over her chest.
Data flinched. "How can you be certain? Although the probability may be low based on a review of Captain Picard's professional history…"
"Data, that would never happen," repeated Tasha. "Captain Picard is a great man."
Had Data been human, he might have picked up on Yar's slightly threatening expression. But Data was not human, and he had nothing to offer in response but a puzzled frown.
Commander Zatha stood still, hands clasped behind her back on the bridge of her ship. She watched as a tiny greenish dart appeared on the view screen. As it shot clear of the cruiser its familiar twin engines fired and it sped away in the direction of the Enterprise. Picard, it appeared, had stolen her personal shuttlecraft.
"Commander, the human is escaping," shouted Lt. Hakka, whirling around in his seat.
Commander Zatha glanced from the view screen to her subordinate disdainfully. Her antennae twitched. "That is quite obvious. We have our orders, Lt. Hakka. Set course for Vulcan."
"You were also given an order to hold the human in custody," said Hakka, eyes fixed on his station this time.
Commander Zatha pointed an elegant finger in Lt. Hakka's direction. "Relieve this officer of his post. Take him to the brig," she snapped. Guards moved in quickly, and grabbed Hakka by his upper arms, roughly pulling him from his seat.
The look on Hakka's face showed only resignation at his fate. Insubordination was not tolerated in the Andorian military, and he was not surprised by Zatha's reaction to his words. But he did not regret uttering them, for there was something very strange about Zatha's behavior. He knew he was not the only officer who questioned how one of the fiercest Andorian warriors could have been overcome by a human on her own ship—while armed.
"If anyone else wishes to question my authority you may join him!" Zatha turned to glare at her officers. "Warp seven."
"Aye sir, warp seven," said the woman now manning the helm.
"Commander!" shouted Lt. Worf from tactical, "An Andorian shuttle is incoming."
"On screen," said Riker, pushing himself up from the Captain's chair and walking forward. He felt his heart begin to pound, as adrenaline coursed through him.
"It is approaching at a high velocity, commander," Worf warned, leaning over the railing at tactical.
Riker didn't bother to shoot Worf the "no kidding" look he wanted to. The fact was the shuttle was barreling in so fast there was little time to even think. But Riker was a quick thinker. He was in this position for a reason. And while Worf would always assume hostile intent on the part of an incoming ship (perhaps that would serve him well as a security chief someday) Riker had to think ahead of the current situation. He had to anticipate every negative and positive scenario within seconds.
Riker focused his attention on Commander Data, who had just glided onto the bridge and lid into his the ops station. "Data, life form readings?""Sensors show a humanoid life form sir." He paused as his hands flew over the console. "The shuttle's shields are activated and interfering with our sensors, Commander. It is impossible to tell if the pilot is Andorian or human, sir", the android added as though reading Riker's mind.
Riker glanced at the view screen again. The Andorian battleship was preparing to exit the system, and its crew didn't seem the least bit concerned about the missing shuttle. Was it an expendable Andorian sent to distract them or worse yet a suicidal maniac determined to take the lives of the Enterprise crew? There was another possibility of course. If it was Picard he was behaving like a man pursued, that was for sure. And if it was Picard, they wouldn't be able to beam him out with his shields up. He squinted as suddenly there was a flash of blinding light, and the Andorian battle cruiser was gone.
"The Andorian ship has entered warp, sir," Data said calmly. "Andorian shuttle is at one thousand meters and closing."
"Yellow alert!"
"He's determined, whoever he is," said LaForge, keeping his voice calmer than he felt.
"Hail him!"
"Commander, he's not responding to our hails," said Worf.
Riker's mouth was set in a grim line as he stared at the view screen. "Bring the ship around and open the aft shuttle bay doors," he shouted abruptly.
LaForge complied quickly. "Shuttle bay doors open, sir."
"He's coming in too fast and we're going to have a big problem inside shuttle bay one, sir!" warned LaForge.
"Activate the emergency damping system in the shuttle bay," Riker ordered.
"Activated," reported Data. An energy web deployed in the shuttle bay was designed to slow the kinetic energy of incoming vessels with excessive speed. It was a last resort.
"Damn it," Riker whispered, unable to tear his gaze from the view screen.