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Games Chapter 4
The atmosphere on Voyager's Bridge felt surreal. Most of the senior staff had been on the holodeck at the time of the attack and still wore their party clothes. Harry Kim's eyes strayed to Ensign Jacobs; she wore a dark green evening gown with sparkling sequins. He looked back to the main screen and the prevailing image of the gas cloud where Tom disappeared over an hour ago. It shifted and changed shape with a fluidity that resembled breathing. He forced his eyes back down to his console and to monitoring communications.
Inside the gas cloud Tom set the shuttle sensors on a systematic sweep. It would take time, unless luck intervened and the Kazon battleship waited close by. The gases interfered with his scans, the same as they had on Voyager, but inside the cloud he could at least compensate for most of the interference. This was his hope at least. It was like finding a needle in a haystack. Tom always wondered at that saying; he could think of several ways to find a needle in a haystack. Using a tricorder would be the easiest method, but that wasn't the point was it? As a kid his mom once took him to a historical farm. In the barn there were bales of hay piled up and on the far end just under the loft sat a large loose pile, and being only eight, he immediately wanted to climb up to the loft and jump in. He never got the chance. His mother knew him only too well and she kept a firm hold of his hand the entire tour. It compared to how he felt now, only this time a needle hid inside the hay, and he just jumped in with his eyes closed.
The Kazon disabled Voyager so she couldn't chase after them, but she still had bite. Without shields, one good hit to the Kazon's warp core could destroy the entire ship. The whole incredibly simple plan consisted of Tom finding the Kazon before they could repair their shields and send the co-ordinates of their warp core to Voyager without being detected. Simple in theory, thought Tom. The trick would be getting far enough away before all hell broke loose.
Finding the Kazon proved to be the biggest obstacle. On the fourth scanner sweep he found them. Now the problem consisted of aligning the sensor scan Voyager took of the vessel as the initial attack took place over the existing ship with deep hull penetrating scans without being detected. Tom started by disabling all unnecessary functions, including the shields and weapons. They may discover his scans but hopefully not him. Using only propulsion he slowly and carefully snuck towards the Kazon.
As soon as he entered the necessary sensor range he commenced the slow and detailed job of mapping the enemy ship. That done, the next obstacle consisted of sending the newly gathered ship's schematics to Voyager without alerting the Kazon. The initial plan had been to up-link to Voyager's systems, but he realised now that that the Kazon were on the verge of finishing their repairs. He needed to act now.
Tom moved his shuttle closer to the Kazon, directly opposite from where Voyager sat dead in space. With his own weapons and shields recovered, he aimed directly at the newly restored shield generators of the Kazon ship. On the third shot he missed deliberately, aiming his weapons fire towards Voyager's co-ordinates with the subspace message concealed inside.
Return fire rocked his small shuttle seconds after Tom began his attack. Thankfully, his initial attack on their shields proved successful, and the Kazon ship remained vulnerable. He used every evasive manoeuvre he could think of to evade subsequent hits. Even with his shields fully operational, Tom knew he wouldn't last long against their weapons. He couldn't outrun them and even if he could, the plan depended on the Kazon keeping their position. He could only wait until Voyager made their move.
His luck ran out sooner then he hoped. Seconds after being hit yet again, Tom's console overloaded. He heard the warning buzz coming from the navigational control, but he gambled on time. Only one more sequence needed to be entered for his next evasive manoeuvre... He saw the faint glow as the console's power cells attempted to compensate. The next thing he knew, he lay on his back feeling only a tingling sensation traveling up his right arm followed by numbness. The smell of smoke brought him back to the moment. Normally environmental control would prevent atmospheric contamination. Nothing happened. Smoke continued to fill the cabin. Tom sat up slowly, pushing himself up with his left arm. From his angle he could see the glow of the Kazon tractor beam locked onto his shuttle only to be replaced moments later by a flash of yellow brighter then anything he'd ever seen before. He felt himself thrown against the hull, and then nothing.
Consciousness returned and with it pain. He tried to get up but stopped as an agonizing shock shot from his hip up his back. He stopped trying. The darkness in the shuttle encompassed everything, not that it mattered. He probably wouldn't like the sight, as all the consoles were offline and the shuttle obviously suffered heavy damage. The only encouraging sign was that he wasn't floating, which meant that on some level environmental control remained intact. Apparently not enough to sift the toxins out of the air, but maybe just enough to keep the oxygen supply going long enough for him to be rescued.
He could smell the pungent odour of the fumes, and feel the burning in his lungs. With his left hand he pulled his uniform up over his nose. In his right arm he still felt the same tingling he had had before, only now it felt closer to burning than numb. He tried not to move, determined not to succumb to the temptation to discover how extensive the damage might be. He didn't need to know, he already knew that it hurt like hell and he had no means by which to heal himself. He could only wait.
Tom Paris hated waiting. In the same way he hated the penal colony, doing nothing did not agree with him. The menial work wasn't so bad; it passed the time and broke up the mind numbing boredom for a little while. Night-time was the worst; locked in his cell and hearing the sounds of other prisoners going to sleep, while he could only stare up at the ceiling and think. Too much time to think. Bad enough being expelled from the Academy after the accident at Caldik Prime, but to then join the Maquis? Tom imagined he'd would have agreed to do anything so long as it included flying. He made the same decision when Captain Janeway approached him in Auckland, and although acting as observer on Voyager didn't include flying, it got him off the ground.
Pain brought him out of his reverie.
Tom felt the darkness closing in on him again. His eyes burned from the toxins in the air. He wondered how long it would take. Would the fumes kill him first, or would he run out of air? Maybe he'd get lucky and lose consciousness...
Think about something else. Anything else. How long would it take for B'Elanna to fix Voyager? Six, maybe seven hours? Bad thought. Even with ship navigational control repaired it could take hours before locating....
Something else. Think souvenirs! He stashed them all in a drawer after finding the last two. At least they weren't scattered all over his living quarters again. He wondered what would be done with them if he... His eyes watered from the toxins, in the total darkness he couldn't even tell if his eyes were open or shut anymore, he only knew they burned continuously.
The holodeck. He recently finished reading an antique earth pulp novel about a space ranger. Harry wanted him to write another holoprogram, but didn't specify what about. Harry might even go for the super hero genre, he played Beowulf before (with disastrous results) but he might like it.
Harry would probably like anything better then Sandrine's. Tom missed her, Sandrine the person. He missed talking to her. She came to the hospital after Caldik Prime, and he told her about what really happened. She was the only one who listened and didn't condemn him. She was probably the only person in the Alpha quadrant who'd care if he died...
He didn't realize he drifted asleep until a bang against the ship caught his attention. Not just the continuous creaking of his damaged shuttle, but more solid. He heard a metal tearing as a hole was carved into the hull.
Games Chapter 4
The atmosphere on Voyager's Bridge felt surreal. Most of the senior staff had been on the holodeck at the time of the attack and still wore their party clothes. Harry Kim's eyes strayed to Ensign Jacobs; she wore a dark green evening gown with sparkling sequins. He looked back to the main screen and the prevailing image of the gas cloud where Tom disappeared over an hour ago. It shifted and changed shape with a fluidity that resembled breathing. He forced his eyes back down to his console and to monitoring communications.
Inside the gas cloud Tom set the shuttle sensors on a systematic sweep. It would take time, unless luck intervened and the Kazon battleship waited close by. The gases interfered with his scans, the same as they had on Voyager, but inside the cloud he could at least compensate for most of the interference. This was his hope at least. It was like finding a needle in a haystack. Tom always wondered at that saying; he could think of several ways to find a needle in a haystack. Using a tricorder would be the easiest method, but that wasn't the point was it? As a kid his mom once took him to a historical farm. In the barn there were bales of hay piled up and on the far end just under the loft sat a large loose pile, and being only eight, he immediately wanted to climb up to the loft and jump in. He never got the chance. His mother knew him only too well and she kept a firm hold of his hand the entire tour. It compared to how he felt now, only this time a needle hid inside the hay, and he just jumped in with his eyes closed.
The Kazon disabled Voyager so she couldn't chase after them, but she still had bite. Without shields, one good hit to the Kazon's warp core could destroy the entire ship. The whole incredibly simple plan consisted of Tom finding the Kazon before they could repair their shields and send the co-ordinates of their warp core to Voyager without being detected. Simple in theory, thought Tom. The trick would be getting far enough away before all hell broke loose.
Finding the Kazon proved to be the biggest obstacle. On the fourth scanner sweep he found them. Now the problem consisted of aligning the sensor scan Voyager took of the vessel as the initial attack took place over the existing ship with deep hull penetrating scans without being detected. Tom started by disabling all unnecessary functions, including the shields and weapons. They may discover his scans but hopefully not him. Using only propulsion he slowly and carefully snuck towards the Kazon.
As soon as he entered the necessary sensor range he commenced the slow and detailed job of mapping the enemy ship. That done, the next obstacle consisted of sending the newly gathered ship's schematics to Voyager without alerting the Kazon. The initial plan had been to up-link to Voyager's systems, but he realised now that that the Kazon were on the verge of finishing their repairs. He needed to act now.
Tom moved his shuttle closer to the Kazon, directly opposite from where Voyager sat dead in space. With his own weapons and shields recovered, he aimed directly at the newly restored shield generators of the Kazon ship. On the third shot he missed deliberately, aiming his weapons fire towards Voyager's co-ordinates with the subspace message concealed inside.
Return fire rocked his small shuttle seconds after Tom began his attack. Thankfully, his initial attack on their shields proved successful, and the Kazon ship remained vulnerable. He used every evasive manoeuvre he could think of to evade subsequent hits. Even with his shields fully operational, Tom knew he wouldn't last long against their weapons. He couldn't outrun them and even if he could, the plan depended on the Kazon keeping their position. He could only wait until Voyager made their move.
His luck ran out sooner then he hoped. Seconds after being hit yet again, Tom's console overloaded. He heard the warning buzz coming from the navigational control, but he gambled on time. Only one more sequence needed to be entered for his next evasive manoeuvre... He saw the faint glow as the console's power cells attempted to compensate. The next thing he knew, he lay on his back feeling only a tingling sensation traveling up his right arm followed by numbness. The smell of smoke brought him back to the moment. Normally environmental control would prevent atmospheric contamination. Nothing happened. Smoke continued to fill the cabin. Tom sat up slowly, pushing himself up with his left arm. From his angle he could see the glow of the Kazon tractor beam locked onto his shuttle only to be replaced moments later by a flash of yellow brighter then anything he'd ever seen before. He felt himself thrown against the hull, and then nothing.
Consciousness returned and with it pain. He tried to get up but stopped as an agonizing shock shot from his hip up his back. He stopped trying. The darkness in the shuttle encompassed everything, not that it mattered. He probably wouldn't like the sight, as all the consoles were offline and the shuttle obviously suffered heavy damage. The only encouraging sign was that he wasn't floating, which meant that on some level environmental control remained intact. Apparently not enough to sift the toxins out of the air, but maybe just enough to keep the oxygen supply going long enough for him to be rescued.
He could smell the pungent odour of the fumes, and feel the burning in his lungs. With his left hand he pulled his uniform up over his nose. In his right arm he still felt the same tingling he had had before, only now it felt closer to burning than numb. He tried not to move, determined not to succumb to the temptation to discover how extensive the damage might be. He didn't need to know, he already knew that it hurt like hell and he had no means by which to heal himself. He could only wait.
Tom Paris hated waiting. In the same way he hated the penal colony, doing nothing did not agree with him. The menial work wasn't so bad; it passed the time and broke up the mind numbing boredom for a little while. Night-time was the worst; locked in his cell and hearing the sounds of other prisoners going to sleep, while he could only stare up at the ceiling and think. Too much time to think. Bad enough being expelled from the Academy after the accident at Caldik Prime, but to then join the Maquis? Tom imagined he'd would have agreed to do anything so long as it included flying. He made the same decision when Captain Janeway approached him in Auckland, and although acting as observer on Voyager didn't include flying, it got him off the ground.
Pain brought him out of his reverie.
Tom felt the darkness closing in on him again. His eyes burned from the toxins in the air. He wondered how long it would take. Would the fumes kill him first, or would he run out of air? Maybe he'd get lucky and lose consciousness...
Think about something else. Anything else. How long would it take for B'Elanna to fix Voyager? Six, maybe seven hours? Bad thought. Even with ship navigational control repaired it could take hours before locating....
Something else. Think souvenirs! He stashed them all in a drawer after finding the last two. At least they weren't scattered all over his living quarters again. He wondered what would be done with them if he... His eyes watered from the toxins, in the total darkness he couldn't even tell if his eyes were open or shut anymore, he only knew they burned continuously.
The holodeck. He recently finished reading an antique earth pulp novel about a space ranger. Harry wanted him to write another holoprogram, but didn't specify what about. Harry might even go for the super hero genre, he played Beowulf before (with disastrous results) but he might like it.
Harry would probably like anything better then Sandrine's. Tom missed her, Sandrine the person. He missed talking to her. She came to the hospital after Caldik Prime, and he told her about what really happened. She was the only one who listened and didn't condemn him. She was probably the only person in the Alpha quadrant who'd care if he died...
He didn't realize he drifted asleep until a bang against the ship caught his attention. Not just the continuous creaking of his damaged shuttle, but more solid. He heard a metal tearing as a hole was carved into the hull.