Chapter Three
With a deceptively absentminded air, Sha'wah'ré set the report aside and leant back from the desk. Tesk hovered silently in the shadows but she ignored him for the moment. A ponderous sort of outrage was slowly building in her. How dare they?
It was by no accident that the Outsiders had discovered their presence. Treachery had been at work at the highest levels. The Governors of two of the southern provinces had waited for the ship, had conspired together to sabotage the vast machinery that held their world in limbo. They had shut down the great generators under their respective care and broken the planet-wide network that veiled them from the prying eyes of a dangerous galaxy. Fortunately, their treachery had been quickly discovered and loyal servants of The Law had ensured that the vast web of power was brought back into operation. However, the damage had been done; the ship had detected them as the traitors had intended, and now it waited like a predator at the mouth of a bolt-hole, waited for its prey. How dare they?
Such a thing had never happened in her long, long memory. Occasionally the Great Machine had failed for lack of perfection, or those that attended it had failed in their tasks, but never had anyone deliberately attacked the foundation of all that she protected. Never had anyone attacked the very foundation of The Law. How dare they?
Emerging from her inward contemplation, she looked across the gloomy chamber into the shadows where a thin, pale face hovered in the darkness as if unconnected to any body. At her silent command, the face began to move forward and Tesk slowly loomed from the shadows to stand before her desk like a giant, black scarecrow.
"Is Governor Kah'teh still being questioned?" asked the Incantatrix, her voice revealing no hint of the dull anger that consumed her.
"Yes," came Tesk's reedy reply. "He has so far denied all knowledge of the Innovator Movement."
Sha'wah'ré stood suddenly and the giant scarecrow took a step backward as he realised the full extent of his mistress' fury. "You will not refer to them as a movement," she hissed. "They are a rabble. Nothing but anarchists and ruffians."
He inclined his head in acquiescence and she slowly sank back into her seat, returning to a state of apparent calm--the calm of a sleeping volcano, ready to erupt without warning.
"His family must be interrogated as well. They will be involved." The Incantatrix glanced back at the report on her desk and picked it up once more. "This says nothing of how the other traitor escaped."
"That is still being investigated," said Tesk nervously.
She looked at him with narrowed eyes and he swallowed audibly. "You suspect more treachery."
"I believe his escape may have been engineered by sympathisers within the militia," he admitted reluctantly. "But I cannot be certain as yet."
Silence greeted this statement and Tesk began to shift uneasily from one foot to the other under Sha'wah'ré's brooding gaze. The slow tick of an ornate clock seemed to swell from the shadows at the far side of the chamber, filling the room with a steady, dreadful beat. A trickle of perspiration made its way down the tall man's thin face. He expected an eruption of anger at any moment, but instead, when the Incantatrix finally spoke, her voice was soft, almost melodious.
"This cancer must be cut out. Our way of life is in danger. The Law is threatened. These rebels must be crushed. We must search them out and break them; destroy them utterly."
Tesk nodded mutely, hoping his mistress had finished with him for the moment, hoping to escape the dull wrath that permeated the room, but he wasn't to be released just yet.
"There's something more. What have you not told me?"
Fear was plain on his face now as he opened his mouth to speak, but the Incantatrix continued. "What of Shen'rah Province? Have they suffered from any more disturbances?"
"There were some... problems yesterday," the black scarecrow said carefully. "I'm still trying to learn exactly what happened, but it seems that members of... that rebels disrupted the inaugural ceremony of the province's new Keeper of Law."
Sha'wah'ré rose slowly from her seat and moved to the single stained-glass window that did little to light the chamber; an abstract design of dark greens and reds, it seemed to emphasise the gloom rather than relieve it. "Were the rituals completed?" she asked, her voice devoid of emotion.
"I do not have the full details of the incident, but... I believe not." Tesk swallowed loudly again as he addressed his mistress' back. "Several of the rebels were captured, but a number of them managed to..."
His words were cut off by an explosion of glass. The Incantatrix withdrew her fist, leaving twisted lead and jagged panes framing a hole through which a shaft of light rudely pierced the dark chamber. Drops of blood splashed unheeded to the stone floor, gleaming as they descended through the invading beam of fire. "How dare they?" she hissed through clenched teeth.
Tesk watched his mistress' back warily, fearing some further physical manifestation of her terrible fury, possibly directed at himself.
"Have them executed."
He started at the dreadful coldness of her voice. "Are you sure?... that seems a little extreme... it may incite the rebels further..." Sha'wah'ré remained unmoved, still and heedless of him as a wall of granite. "As you command," he whispered and bowed respectfully, despite the fact that she remained with her back to him. Slowly he shuffled from the chamber, feeling the cold hand of dread around his heart.
**********
As Seven worked at her station in Astrometrics, she heard the doors hiss open and shut behind her. Icheb appeared at her side as she retrieved a data PADD and began to download potentially useful information about the planet. She watched him from the corner of her eye as he studied the large main screen which was currently displaying a graphic of the star system and columns of changing figures as conditions in the region altered. His youthful face was pensive. After a few seconds he turned to her.
"An ion storm is building up. Has Captain Janeway been informed?"
"Of course," she replied, glancing at him quickly before returning her attention to the PADD.
"Then the away mission has been postponed?" The worry was plain to hear in his voice.
Seven set the PADD aside and focused on the young man. "We cannot afford to postpone the mission. The ion storm is not a danger at the moment. We hope to avoid it. Do not concern yourself needlessly."
"But this is a dangerous mission," he continued, frowning anxiously. "There are many unknown factors."
"That is often the case."
"But Seven..."
"Icheb," she interrupted impatiently, "you are supposed to be assisting Lieutenant Carey in Engineering."
"I wanted to see you before you left," he protested.
Her expression softened as she looked at the anxious youth. "Don't worry. We will carry out our mission successfully and return soon."
He nodded soberly. "Seven, I want you to know that I'm grateful for everything that you've done for me."
She swallowed, her throat suddenly feeling tight, and when she spoke, her voice was husky. "And I am proud of you and all that you've accomplished in your time aboard Voyager." It didn't seem enough, but overcome with awkwardness, she broke eye contact and picked up her PADD again.
Icheb returned to his contemplation of the main screen as it continued to display the changing conditions of this region of space. Minutes passed and Seven expected him at any moment to comment on the rapid build up of the ion storm; it was promising to be a large example of the phenomenon, level eight at least. However, when he did finally speak again, he caught her completely by surprise.
"When are you going to tell Lieutenant Torres that you are attracted to her?"
She gaped at him for a moment, suddenly having an inkling of why her own directness could make her colleagues so uncomfortable at times. "You are in error," she managed at last, adding defensively, "I have no such feelings for the Lieutenant."
"My observations indicate otherwise." Sounding pleased with himself, Icheb continued. "Since her relationship with Lieutenant Paris was annulled, I have noticed that your interaction with Lieutenant Torres has become increasingly amicable."
"And from that you deduce that I am attracted to her." Seven tried to sound dismissive but couldn't stop a trace of nervousness from entering her voice. "Besides, our interaction has hardly been amicable recently."
"That is only because of the current crisis. And the Lieutenant has still been significantly more tolerant with you than other members of the crew."
"She has?" asked Seven weakly, feeling out of her depth.
"Yesterday in Engineering, for example, she raised her voice to you sixty-eight percent less frequently than to Lieutenant Vorik."
A trace of irritation entered her voice as she tried to put a stop to this uncomfortable conversation. "Perhaps you should be assigned more work if you have time for such frivolous observations."
"I do not consider the pursuit of your happiness frivolous," he countered in his guileless way.
She swallowed, unnerved by her inability to get the better of the earnest young man. "We may be forming a friendship, but there is nothing more to it than that."
Icheb frowned. "Seven, you have done much to help me adapt to this crew. You've encouraged me to engage in social activities, to develop relationships, to overcome my Borg inhibitions towards such apparently irrelevant activities." He continued shrewdly but not unsympathetically. "You speak of your own efforts to regain your humanity but you frequently retreat from the very experiences that you encourage me to pursue. Why do you hold back? What are you afraid of?"
Seven looked down at the workstation, unable to argue or evade anymore. "I do not know," she said softly at last. "I..."
"Torres to Seven of Nine."
The both started slightly at the sudden interruption. Seven tapped her commbadge. "Go ahead, Lieutenant."
"If you're not too busy, I could use your help with these shield modifications to the Delta Flyer."
"Acknowledged. I will join you shortly."
Handing her PADD to Icheb, Seven spoke, her voice a little subdued after the conversation of the last few minutes. "I would be grateful if you could complete the downloading of relevant information for the away mission."
"Of course."
They looked at each other for a moment, their eyes filled with the unspoken awareness that they might never see one another again. Perhaps affected by Icheb's words, Seven gave in to a rare moment of impulsiveness and stepped forward to pull the young man into an awkward embrace. After a few brief seconds she released him and, saying nothing further, swiftly strode from Astrometrics.
end of chapter three