Author: Christy Anderson
You can contact me at kittyunlimited@go.com.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Paramount minus Ensign Christy Anderson, Tre'kent, and a few selected insignificant characters.
The away mission was destined to be a tremendous disaster. Is the shuttle crew prepared for it to get worse?
Child of Night (Kind der Nacht): Part 6
An electronic two-tone beep sounded. "The Comm system is not functional," an impassive voice informed.
"Clarify!" a voice screamed angrily.
Inwardly I flinched, trying to place whom I was listening to. The immediate room seemed to be darkened, or perhaps it was my perspective. I desperately tried to remember where I was, but strangely, I could not. All around the room were millions of shadows, black shadows that hazily moved back and forth. I felt feverish, and my head seemed to be pounding. It was difficult to move my legs and my arms, and for seconds I believed I was restrained.
The computer beeped again. "The subspace transmitter is fused."
A pain shot through my head and I wanted to scream out in pain. As the pain began to subside, I puzzled at my revelation. What was the computer? These beeps and voices were sounds that I could not recognize, sounds that I had not ever heard before. Where was I? Perhaps I was in the lab with Father, but my surroundings proved otherwise.
I heard a woman begin to curse. "Computer," she commanded, "reroute the signal through the main deflector."
The same noise beeped again. "Affirmative. Communication is now operational."
I heard a sigh. "Begin sending out a distress signal to Voyager."
The sound of footsteps approached me and the graying shadows that surrounded me were shifting again. "How is she?" the woman's voice asked.
I heard another sigh; this time the sound was closer to me. "No change…" a man's voice trailed off. Suddenly I could feel a hand upon my shoulders. I wanted to sit up, but I could not move. What had scared me more was the cold fact that I couldn't see anybody. "I've been trying to remove some of the security authorizations to view her medical file. I thought that it might contain something useful. Up to helping me?"
"There's nothing else to do…" she paused. I heard vigorous tapping and subsequent beeps. "That should do it, Tom," she said after awhile.
"How did you do that so fast, B'Elanna?" the man's voice asked.
Tom? B'Elanna? Who were they? The shadows of the room began to lighten and take forms. I could see blonde haired man and a woman with deep ridges on her forehead. Silently, I wondered who these strange people were. Once again I asked myself, 'Where am I? Why could I not remember?'
The voices grew silent for what seemed an immeasurable amount of time. Finally Tom spoke up. "B'Elanna, take a look at this. It seems to be a medical entry from six years ago…"
"What?" she asked. "How is that possible? I thought Starfleet only began to record a person's medical history when they began their Starfleet career. Certainly she wasn't part of Starfleet when she was twelve!"
"That's normally the circumstances. But take a look at this too! There's medical files all the way from her birth… and it looks like they are encoded."
I heard some more tapping. "This doesn't make any sense. You have to be right Tom," she said. Suddenly an alarm went off.
"The Comm system is offline," the metallic voice informed the two people.
"Why?" B'Elanna screamed. "This is the seventh time!" she added.
"I'll come over to help you," Tom volunteered.
Suddenly the sound of static filled the room, and I desperately wanted to protect my ears from the loud sound. But I couldn't concentrate correctly and my mind was so blurred.
Finally the sound of a second woman's voice flooded over the static. "…oyager to the Away Team. Do you read? Voyager to the Away Team; do you read?" she asked.
"Loud and Clear," B'Elanna answered.
A shot of pain went through my head as I realized that I knew that first voice. It was the voice that I had come to know since we were hauled into the Delta Quadrant. Surprisingly, I unexpectedly remembered where I was, and I now recognized my companions.
"Captain?" I whispered hoarsely.
"Christy?" Tom asked as he ran back over to me.
"How long have I been out?" I whispered. My voice was barely audible.
"Ten hours," Tom whispered in my ear.
"Christy? Tom?" the Captain asked in confusion over the Comm.
Quickly Tom put a comforting hand on my shoulder and grabbed a hypospray with his other. "This won't hurt a bit," he whispered as he injected the compound into my neck.
"Lieutenant Torres," the Captain addressed. "Report on your position."
"We've lost our starboard nacelle, Captain, and the port nacelle has taken heavy damage. We were attacked by an alien race and sustained heavy damage. We're stuck in forward trajectory, and Ensign Anderson was critically injured in the attack. She was hit by some sort of bionuclear pulse. We need assistance."
There was a pause at the other end of the connection. "Noted," the Captain said after a time, "We've been trying to come after you, but we need the shield frequencies. Can you give them to us?"
B'Elanna nodded. "Of course, Captain. The frequency is Beta Decay 9…"
A deafening alarm interrupted B'Elanna. Desperately she leaped back over to her console. Angrily she cursed under her breath. "The Comm system is down again!" she yelled. "I think it's being affected by a dampening field…"
The shuttle dangerously lurched abruptly. Tom left from my side and activated my console that was just above him. "B'Elanna," he called to her, "I'm reading massive graviton fluctuations off of our starboard bow. I think it could be a Briikortian ship."
"I see it too," she replied softly. "Source- Spatial grid 5.4; distance- 8 light years and closing…"
"Raising shields," Tom said immediately. "And charging weapons," he added.
Instantaneously the shuttle rocked again. "Direct hit to our communications array," B'Elanna announced dismayed.
The shuttlecraft swerved again. "Firing phasors," Tom shouted.
I felt hopeless as I lied still on the floor. Painfully I attempted to sit up and looked for the easiest thing to grab on to for support. Unfortunately it was six more inches above me. With a voracious spirit I encouraged myself on, trying to keep my concentration over all of the screaming, yelling, and general confusion. Gratefully my hand grasped onto the object just before the shuttle was hit again. Slowly I hoisted myself up and began to tap on the controls.
I kept my focus on scanning the other ship, because I knew we wouldn't last much longer. Three more commands, and I was able to view and control the manual launch mechanism for the torpedoes. I locked on to their shield matrix and fired one charge after another. Tom turned around in the nick of time to catch me. "What do you think you are doing, Christy?" he asked crossly.
From her console, B'Elanna's worried face began to relax slightly. "The ship's shields are down, but they're still firing."
Tom let me go and turned back around. "Locking onto their weapons array and firing," he announced. I turned back to the console and began to penetrate the alien vessel's hull. I gave the last two commands and the computer began to download the alien's database. As I hit the last button, I sank back down in exhaustion.
However, B'Elanna and Tom were still hard at work. "Those last hits had no effect. They're locking on a tractor beam!" Tom yelled.
"I'm creating a feedback loop; we should be free in another few seconds…" B'Elanna replied.
"Firing phasors… direct hit to their weapons array," Tom said from above me.
"They're hailing," B'Elanna announced. She exchanged looks with Tom who slowly nodded. With a small command, B'Elanna activated the view screen.
The face of an ugly alien filled the screen. "You are badly damaged," he growled.
"Hello to you to," Tom replied sarcastically.
The shady alien wasted no time getting down to business. "I want to speak with the one in charge," he snarled menacingly.
Tom struck a defensive stance. "I'm the one in charge," he said as he crossed his arms.
The alien stared at him, obviously distrustful of every word that Tom had said. He burst out into threatening laughter. "No, I want to speak with your commanding officer," he barked again.
Tom gave him an innocent look. "I'm Lieutenant Paris, and this is Lieutenant Torres. We both share the same rank. So, I suppose you could pick whose the commanding officer. Then again, if it's an Engineering sort of problem, you'll have to talk to Lieutenant Torres, because she outranks me in those kinds of matters. However, at the moment, I outrank her in almost everything else."
As soon the words came out of his mouth, B'Elanna shot him a dirty look. On the viewscreen, the alien did not seem too charmed by Tom's words either. "I want to speak with the young one!" he sneered portentously.
Instantly, I crouched down to where the alien could not see me, but still where I could keep an eye on Tom and B'Elanna.
"You mean B'Elanna?" Tom asked with false confusion.
"No!" he yelled impatiently. "The young girl in charge, Christy Anderson!"
I gulped when I heard my name. How did he know such a thing?
Yet Tom's firm expression never wavered. "I'm afraid to inform you that Ensign Anderson is unable to speak with you. Your species first attack on us injured her critically. Until she recovers, I am in command here, and you will speak with me."
The alien's face contorted to a disgusted look. "I will not be persuaded. I must talk to her!"
"I'm afraid that's not possible," B'Elanna suddenly interjected. She was becoming increasingly irritated at the alien's brusque attitude.
The alien's dark beady eyes lit up with fiery passion. "I'll be blunt. I know that within three hours, your power supply will be completely drained and your shields will fail. You'll die. I also know that three more shots from my weapons array will take your life support offline, and the process of your death will be sped up. Communication is offline, sensors are at 9%, you've lost both nacelles, Warp Drive is down, shuttle maneuverability is impossible, inertial dampers are offline, impulse engines are damaged beyond repair, thrusters are inoperable, your shields are at 57%, and hull integrity is at 43%."
Halfway through the alien's list of damaged systems, B'Elanna exploded. "How the hell do you know that?!" she challenged.
The alien put on a sly smile. "I have my means… but it doesn't matter. I can help you, or destroy you. It is your choice, Lieutenant Thomas Eugene Paris."
B'Elanna's face visibly paled when the alien fired off Tom's full rank and name. However, Tom fought to keep his strong image. "And what's in it for you?" he asked cynically.
The alien shrugged. "I want Christy," he said simply.
I shrunk back farther in disgust. If I hadn't been so weak I would have slapped the alien so hard. What right did he have to bargain for my future?
Tom gagged. "Do you honestly believe that we trade crewmen like property? I'm sorry, but that's out of the question. I think we can handle anything that you throw at us. This conversation is terminated." Tom moved his hand to hit the button on his console.
"You can't save her," the alien taunted.
Tom looked up in disbelief. "Excuse me?" he asked as he raised his eyebrows.
"By our calculations, we know that she'll die within five hours. You can't save her. You don't have the training, Thomas; you're playing out of your league. She's no asset to you if she's dead, might as well give her to us to save your own skin."
"I'm afraid that you are very wrong. Try recalculating your assumptions," Tom said as he gave the alien one last glance.
The alien, sensing that he was losing the battle, made a last desperate attempt. "Captain Janeway isn't coming. Voyager isn't coming. The Doc can't bail you out of this one…"
Tom hit the button. "I've heard enough," he muttered under his breath. "B'Elanna, divert all the power you can to the shields. I'm afraid we're in for a bumpy ride," he commanded as he went hard to work.
"Tom," B'Elanna called. "They're not charging weapons. Instead, they're sending out a transporter beam, and it's passing through our shields!" she yelled. "They've locked onto Christy!"
I felt a transporter beam sweep me away and off the shuttle. I rematerialized on the alien ship, several different aliens waiting over me with strange instruments. I let out a weakened scream as another transporter beam locked onto me and brought me back to the shuttle.
I sighed and took in a deep breath. However another beam whisked me away again, and I looked up to see the same daunting aliens standing over me. One wasted no time and shoved his two-pronged instrument into my neck. I let out a small yelp as I felt an unbearable pain sear through my body. The alien, who looked older and wrinkled, grunted as he shoved the instrument farther into my neck. With a flick of his wrist he withdrew it as quick as that, and commenced reading something off of it in a foreign language. I could feel warm blood trickle down my neck.
Another dark alien approached, and I prepared myself for the worst. As he drew closer, I felt a tingling sensation as I dematerialized and reappeared on the shuttlecraft.
Tom was waiting for me, and as soon as I materialized again, he forced a strange looking object behind my ear. It did not hurt at first, but within seconds I was writhing with extreme head pain. Tom knelt down sympathetically. "I know it hurts, but it will keep you on the shuttle," he whispered in my ear. I nodded as a small moan escaped from my lips.
"Tom," B'Elanna commanded, "Get to tactical. They enemy ship is charging weapons!"
Tom stood up and scurried to his console. I still sat on the floor, my head pounding. Waves of nausea were overcoming, and I fought very hard to resist the urge to throw up. I was shaking, and it was hard to raise my lungs to breathe. I couldn't think straight, and I was disconcerted. There was only one thought in my mind that was clear- we were not going to survive.
I shivered and inconspicuously lifted myself off the floor. My legs were weak and I grabbed onto the console for support. I tapped silently a few times to see which of the shuttle's systems were still operational. I breathed a sigh of relief as I saw the phasor banks were still fully charged. I stopped for a brief moment to think about what I was going to do next. I glanced around the shuttle. To my right was the containment module, filled with the sample of the quantum foam. I noticed how it bubbled with acidity. I remembered an old trick my father had taught me- baking soda and vinegar. The foam acted like the baking soda, the phasor banks needed to act like the vinegar. I put in six commands and hit the button to fire. The shuttle rocked slightly, as the image of the ship on the viewscreen burst into flames. I felt my knees buckle under me again and flailed my arms out to catch something on the way down to the ground.
Tom heard the crash and ran to the back. "What was that?" he asked.
"An old trick I'll show you one day," I gasped between breaths. He laid me back out on the floor and propped me up against a console.
"Just try to rest," he suggested. "Voyager will come."
I shook my head forcefully. "Hand me that PADD," I demanded as I pointed to the PADD that was still interfaced with the computer. Tom looked over it and smiled.
"Their database?" he questioned. I shrugged.
"It might give us some answers."
He looked skeptical. "Definitely not light reading for a sick patient."
I snatched it out of his hands. "It's all I can do…"
B'Elanna came over and stood behind Tom. "There's no use in making any repairs…" she began.
"I know, too much is damaged," he said as he cut her off.
"We only have 24% of our power reserves left, so I'm going to put us in Gray mode."
Tom nodded nonchalantly as he sat down beside me. I heard a few beeps before B'Elanna came back and sat across from us. Immediately I shivered as the temperature and the lighting dropped in the cabin. B'Elanna pulled off her jacket and put it around my shoulders. "Here," she said gently, "You need to stay warm." She turned away and nodded off within seconds.
I gave her a look of thanks and went back down to reading the PADD. For a while Tom read the text over my shoulder, but within minutes I heard him snoring. I seized the moment of silence to read harder, convinced that I would find something interesting.
The minutes turned into uneventful hours before I finally turned and hit Tom. "Wake up!" I yelled hoarsely.
His eyes opened into slits, and went to close again. This time I hit him harder as I showed him what I had found. "What is it, Christy?" he asked sleepily.
"Dark Matter!" I yelled.
To be continued…
