Kathryn Janeway opened her eyes to a memorial of a dark and battered past.
The bridge of the Nova-class ship was much as she remembered it. Rubble littered the floor. Collapsed beams poked here and there like giant's fingers. The lights overhead guttered on and off. They had even gotten the plaque on the wall right. She remembered that; putting it up with Ransom.
And standing not far from her was Ransom in the flesh. This light was terrible, but that face would be graven in her memory forever; a man who had betrayed every principle the Federation stood for. A captain forced to be a law unto himself, and who had broken his promise to Starfleet and to everything she held dear.
Yet this was worse. Despite the real Rudy Ransom's crimes, Janeway could recognize his noble qualities. He had done his unspeakable deeds for a purpose she could understand completely: to get his crew out of a desperate situation. He had taken responsibility for his actions: first pleading for leniency for his crew, then by sacrificing his life to ensure that the Equinox's evil experiments came to an end.
This Rudy Ransom did not have that mitigating circumstance. Looking at him, she could see that he was frightened but not desperate. This man had never seen his crewmen die; this man had never gone without food for days.
Even his readiness to surrender was despicable in a way the original's had not been. Ransom had surrendered because he had come to remember he was a starship captain. This man had surrendered so that Janeway would clean up the mess. She felt fury pulse through her and gripped the phaser rifle hard. Her boots rang on the deck as she approached him, her features twisted and angry. She leveled the rifle directly at him and stood for a long second, watching him over the barrel. He swallowed hard, but said nothing.
"Marla Gilmore," she said icily.
"In Engineering," he replied. "Our EMH...seems to have drugged her. He didn't follow my orders. I told him to knock her out. I sent Lessing to get her. He hasn't reported back."
"I doubt that," she said archly. "Noah Lessing is on my ship. Recuperating from an assassination attempt...from one of your cohorts."
The phaser rifle did not waver. His Adam's apple wavered once. His hands were raised in surrender. Even so, he had studied enough of playing at being a starship captain to not quail.
When she spoke again, her voice was hard and unforgiving. Above the rifle, her eyes stared him down, burning at him as they had burned at the man he pretended to be.
"When a young ensign in desperate straits obeys an order from her captain that she knows is immoral, that's bad. When a captain of a stranded vessel, thousands of light-years from home, makes a devil's bargain to save the rest of his crew from constant danger and endless desperation, that's worse. But when men with full bellies in warm offices decide to put a woman through her own personal hell just so she'll help you murder billions of innocent people and get away with it....," Her voice shook with fury.
"That is far worse than anything Rudy Ransom could have ever done." She prodded him with the phaser rifle.
"I'll clean up your mess, Mr....Ransom. I'll shut down your warp core and I'll bring you to my ship. But if you want to play Rudy Ransom, then finish out the role. He stood in front of me and admitted what he had done, and all he asked was for leniency for his crew." Her hands tightened on the rifle. "I expect the same level of confession from you."
Ransom eyed her for a few moments. "You know I can't do that," he said softly. "Captain, I'm an officer, like yourself. Obeying orders. I may not agree with them, but I have a duty to obey those above me, just as you do."
"Well, you surrendered your ship to me, so for now you take orders from me. Here's your first. Shut up and sit down. My security officers will take you and...Mr. Burke into custody." She flicked a hot glance at the dark-haired man who played Equinox's mutinous first officer.
These men would never learn, she realized. They would never think what they had done was wrong. At least the real Equinox crew understood that.
B'Elanna Torres materialized in the middle of Engineering. This was a much smaller ship, and didn't need an engraved invitation to figure out where the warp core was. She sprinted over to it, hearing Seven's footsteps behind her. Despite her occasional frictions with the ex-Borg, B'Elanna was glad she was there. Seven took efficient duty seriously. She could go blonde hunting; B'Elanna would shut down the warp core before everything went kaboom.
The first thing she saw was a pair of legs sticking out from the doorway. She went over to the body and examined it in with the light mounted on her wrist. A phaser burn marred the front of the uniform. Her light played over a face slack in death. He looked like Noah Lessing, but Lessing was on Voyager. She knew. She'd seen him in sickbay when Tom had been shot.
He was clearly dead now; she didn't need a tricorder to tell her that. If he was dead, he wasn't priority. There were more important things to deal with.
She sprinted to the main control panel and tilted her head. The warp core itself looked completely normal; there were no modifications that had puzzled her so before. It didn't look quite like Starfleet issue, but it was close enough. Besides, if she didn't get the damn thing shut down, she wouldn't have any time to wonder.
It was at eighty-five percent and rising. She brought up the LCARS panel and tried to shut it down.
"Please enter security code," the computer said calmly.
"Override security code!" B'Elanna said. "Chief Engineer's authorization."
Bloooop-palurp. "Chief Engineer's voice print not confirmed."
I'm an idiot. I'm not Chief Engineer on this ship; Gilmore is.
"tojo'Qa," she swore under her breath. "Computer, initiate emergency warp-core ejection." Any engineer on Voyager could do that; in an emergency situation you didn't always have time to run to Mama for permission.
"Please enter security code."
There were times she really hated computers. It was a slick move, though. Had Gilmore ever been in the Maquis? That was one of their tricks. She bit her lip. The captain was counting on her, and B'Elanna didn't want to let her down.
"Any luck, Seven?" she hollered.
Seven cast her eyes around Engineering and frowned. Then she bent down and opened up the hatch to a Jefferies tube. A figure crouched inside.
"She is here," Seven said emotionlessly. "Crewman Gilmore, we are here to return you to Voyager."
B'Elanna could hear faint sobbing from the tube. That was weird; Gilmore was usually the silent type. The figure began to crab-walk backwards, away from them.
Well, perhaps she was afraid of Seven. Who knew what these guys had done to her? B'Elanna abandoned the panel and strode over.
"Gilmore, it's me. Lieutenant Torres. Come out of there."
She bent down and peered into the dark tube. Marla Gilmore was hunched low, one hand clutching a phaser. Her face was pinched and terrified. Her eyes were wide and staring. Tears and sweat tracked through the grime on her cheeks. Her expression was vacant and staring. Her right sleeve had ridden up, and B'Elanna could see bruises on her wrist. After a moment, her eyes swiveled to meet B'Elanna's. She cringed away in fear and slid herself backwards, further into the tube.
"Gilmore, listen to me," B'Elanna said. "What's the code? Look, smooth move with that code bit, you'd have done great in the Maquis with that. We're here to help you. Come on out and give me the code." She extended a hand into the entrance.
She expected Gilmore to take her hand and get out of the tube. What was the deal? Gilmore hated Jefferies tubes anyway. She'd go in them if she had to, but she hated them.
Gilmore squinched her eyes shut and shrieked. The phaser wavered. B'Elanna took a cautious step back. The captain had said she was doped up, but B'Elanna hadn't ever expected this.
She turned to Seven. "Go around to the other side of the tube and cut her off," she said quietly. Seven nodded once and strode across Engineering. B'Elanna let air hiss out between her teeth. She wasn't any good at this psychobabble crap; other people could talk down loonies with phasers better than she ever could. Patience wasn't her strong suit.
"Go away," Marla said, and she sounded terrified. "Go away, I destroyed it, I didn't mean to shoot him, just leave. Let me do my penance."
"What the hell are you talking about?" B'Elanna flared, and then forced herself to choke it off. Be nice. Get her out of there, get her calmed down and get the code. "We're here to help you." She tapped her combadge. "Torres to Janeway."
"Go ahead," came the immediate response.
"I've located Gilmore. She's locked out the console with a security code. She won't give it to us."
"On my way," Janeway said briskly.
The exchange didn't seem to be what her ex-crewman wanted to hear. Marla aimed the phaser at her with a shaking hand and began to sob.
"NOT HER," Marla shrieked. "I DID IT. DON'T GIVE ME TO HER. STOP JUDGING ME!"
B'Elanna Torres knew she had a temper; she'd spent no small amount of time trying to control it. No one else on Voyager had threatened to rip out anyone else's tongue and wear it as a belt, to her knowledge. Her first impulse had been to drag Gilmore out of the tube and ask questions later.
Now it seemed it was going to have to come to that. Gilmore talking nonsense was bad. Gilmore talking nonsense and waving a phaser around was worse. B'Elanna clenched her teeth.
It's not her fault, she's not rational right now, and the captain wants her and the ship saved, so let's see if we can do this with a minimum of violence, okay?
"Marla," she asked, summoning up patience from somewhere, "just calm down and tell me what you're doing. Okay? Can you tell me that?"
The other woman's pupils were huge, even given the darkness of the engine room. There was just a rim of blue around the black. Her face was slack and far away. "Cleansing," she said haltingly. "Penance."
"How about you do that out here?" B'Elanna suggested, trying to smile and not have it look like a Klingon rictus.
"Go away," Marla said with pathetic desperation in her voice. "Just go away. I didn't mean to shoot him. I destroyed it. Just go away, go away, let me cleanse, let me--,"
All right. I tried to do this nicely. "Do penance. I know," B'Elanna said, and reached into the tube. She grabbed Marla's right wrist and pulled her forward. Behind the crazed engineer, she could see Seven crawling towards them. Marla shrieked and tried to pull away. B'Elanna held on grimly, aware that Marla didn't seem to be able to muster much more strength than her infant daughter Miral. In both human and Klingon cultures, fighting the weak was considered dishonorable. She didn't feel too good about this, but when the weak happened to be waving a phaser around and shrieking nonsense, you took the phaser away from the weak and made the weak get out of the goddamn Jefferies tube and then you could be all nice-nice.
Even on her best day, Marla Gilmore would not have won a fight with B'Elanna Torres, and this wasn't her best day. B'Elanna pried the phaser out of her hand and tossed it away. She reached back to grab the back of Marla's collar with one hand and her wrist with the other. Seven was behind her and began to push her out.
She had the scruff of Gilmore's uniform in one hand; Captain Janeway would likely not approve of dragging the engineer out by her hair. Suddenly Marla's head flashed down and pain bolted up B'Elanna's arm. She stared into the tube and felt anger course through her veins.
"You bit me," she breathed. "Oh, now I'm gonna--,"
Marla let out another shriek and kicked at Seven feebly. B'Elanna forced herself to choke off her temper. . Get her out of there, get the code, then let's shut down the warp core, or otherwise we'll just get the hell off the ship before it goes boom.
Marla wasn't able to fight back particularly well, but it just wasn't that easy to force someone out of a Jefferies tube when they didn't want to go, particularly when you were taking pains to avoid hurting them. There was probably a Starfleet procedure for it. If there was, they were probably failing it miserably. She firmed up her grip on the nape of Marla's neck and one hand; Seven was trying to shove her forward. If the situation hadn't been so grim, she would've laughed. Tom would have loved it, she supposed. Mixed-Species Tag Team Blonde Jefferies Tube Wrestling. Hubba hubba.
It would be a lot easier to just drag her out by the hair, B'Elanna thought. Not to mention more satisfying.
Yet one drugged and weakened human couldn't hold out forever against a half-Klingon and a former Borg drone, and bit by bit they made headway in getting her out. B'Elanna heard running footsteps approaching them and let go of Marla's arm to grab her phaser rifle. Aiming with one hand wouldn't be easy, but she could do it if she had to.
Captain Janeway strode into Engineering and observed the scene in front of her. B'Elanna Torres sitting just outside of the Jefferies tube, one hand on her rifle, the other clamped down on the back of Marla Gilmore's uniform. Marla Gilmore was on her hands and knees, still fighting feebly, halfway out of the tube. She was shrieking and bawling in complete hysteria. Behind her, Seven of Nine crouched. Her left arm was wedged against the backs of the engineer's knees to impede kicking. Her shoulder was pressed against Marla's rump to push her forward. It was probably an efficient way of shoving, but it looked like something out of a Ferengi adult holonovel.
The captain's upraised eyebrows spoke volumes. When Marla Gilmore saw the captain, she stopped shrieking and fell silent as the dead. The color drained from her face and she stared at the captain with dread and terror. She redoubled her efforts to back into the Jefferies tube. B'Elanna sighed. This wasn't her proudest moment as a Starfleet officer.
"Status," Kathryn Janeway said thinly.
B'Elanna sighed. "Here she is. She's not cooperating. I don't know what they did to her, but we have to get off this ship unless she gives us the code."
"I see," Janeway said archly, and strode over to where the three were ingloriously exiting the Jefferies tube. B'Elanna didn't think that the captain would have any more success than she'd had; Gilmore was just too damn far gone for that. Once, in the Maquis, they'd liberated some confederates who had been held on a Cardassian ship for interrogation. Nobody had been able to talk to them, either, not for a while. All Chakotay had been able to do was secure them in quarters and wait until they came out of it. That wasn't a luxury they had on this ship.
She watched the captain squat in front of Marla. Marla flinched and covered her face with her hands. Captain Janeway pulled them down firmly but kindly.
"Marla." The captain's voice was calm. "I know you're frightened. I know what you've been through. We're here to help you. This isn't Equinox, and you're not in the Delta Quadrant. Give us the codes."
Gilmore flinched and looked away. "You'll have to destroy me to obtain them," she slurred in a strangely disconnected voice.
Behind her, a slightly mussed Seven of Nine emerged from the Jefferies tube. She seemed to understand what the hell Gilmore was talking about, which put her one up on B'Elanna. Nothing Gilmore had said made any sense to her.
"She is mimicking my words from my time on Equinox." Seven slid forward and tried to catch the engineer's eyes with her own. "Marla Gilmore, your analogy is flawed. We do not wish to destroy you. You have no cortical implant to remove. Give us the code and we will shut down the warp core and return you to Voyager." She paused. "Your reaction is irrational. We require the codes. Comply."
You forgot 'Resistance is futile', B'Elanna thought sourly. "Captain, that warp core is at ninety-six percent and rising fast. It might hold for a couple of minutes, but if we don't get that code now, we have to evacuate."
"Understood, B'Elanna. I want to save this ship if I can." She turned back to Marla. "I know what these people did to you. I don't know what they told you, but they lied. We came here to help you. We don't want you to do this. I'll beam everyone back if I have to, but please...just trust me."
"Cleansing. Penance." Marla slurred the words again, still flinching as if Janeway was a figure of terror. B'Elanna tensed and fought the urge to slap her combadge and demand an immediate beam-out. She knew her captain wanted to save the ship, but watching the gauges creep up towards one hundred percent was making her damned nervous.
Janeway seemed to make more sense out of that than she had. "Rudy Ransom did his penance," she said. Her voice was firm but kind. "He didn't expect you to do that. He was the captain. You weren't. He sent you to Voyager because he wanted you to live. We'll take you back to Voyager, we'll get you to sickbay, and we'll help you. Now trust me. I'm your captain. I don't expect you to do that, either. Give me the code."
For a moment she thought Gilmore might spill it. At least it seemed to register. Then the blonde woman shook her head and looked away.
B'Elanna's fingers clenched. "Captain, we don't have much time," she repeated.
"Then beam back to Voyager. I'm not giving up this ship until I absolutely have to. It's evidence."
The order nettled her, as she supposed the captain knew it would. The sudden rush of transport made her ears prick. Who the hell had beamed over here? "Captain, was someone else supposed to be here?"
Captain Janeway maintained her calm. "No. Go see who it is." Her voice was low and calming, but B'Elanna had worked under Captain Janeway too long not to recognize the phrase and bring your phaser silently attached to the order.
Nervousness chewed at her throat as she strode towards the sound of the transporter. The warp core was at one hundred percent. Pretty soon, things were going to rupture, and the place was going to fill with toxic plasma gas. Shortly after that the entire vessel would explode. It was damned hard to obey the order. All she had to do was call for a beam-out and Captain Janeway could continue her heartwarming chat on Voyager.
A figure appeared in the doorway and raised its hands. B'Elanna pointed the phaser at it anyway.
"Who are you and what are you doing here?"
Noah Lessing stepped forward and smiled calmly. "It's all right, Lieutenant. I'm Noah Lessing, and I'm here to help my friend. I'm not armed. "
He stepped forward, his eyes on hers. He wore civilian clothes; she was pretty sure he was the real deal. The dead guy on the floor wasn't him. Weird that they hadn't used a hologram for that. She remembered Tom telling her about his holocall with Lessing, and how he'd finally come across and done the right thing. She could respect that. Without a word, she lowered the rifle and gestured for him to pass.
"Mr. Lessing," the captain said. "Who authorized you to transport to this ship?"
Lessing chuckled. "No one did, now that you mention it," he said. "I just did it. I've had experience. I hear you need some help."
From the sharp exhalation, B'Elanna knew that Mr. Lessing was likely going to have a chat with the captain on the subject of rules. Or could she do that? He was a civilian now, after all.
Noah Lessing crossed the engine room and looked around. He shuddered as if old memories were coming back to haunt him. He muttered something under his breath that B'Elanna couldn't catch.
"Man," he said. "They got this place down cold." But he went to where Marla Gilmore crouched. He sat down on the deck and held her upper arms.
"You're dead. I killed you," Marla Gilmore informed him flatly, and stared at him with wide, uncomprehending eyes.
Noah smiled and shook his head. "I'm not dead," he said. "That was some guy who looked like me. But it wasn't me. Did he know about how you kept the warp core going when the Krowtonans attacked? Did he help you keep life-support going when the Karnaii shut down main power? Did he comfort you when Duroz died?" He shook his head.
"I was there with you, Marla. Equinox is gone. This isn't Equinox. There are bad people out there, and they hurt both you and me...but Captain Janeway isn't one of them." He took a deep breath, as if this was difficult to say.
"They're on the level, Marla. Trust me. You know I'd never lie to you. Voyager's here to help. If they weren't I'd be phasering them all."
B'Elanna Torres summoned a great deal of will to bite down on the phrase Just you try, which desperately wanted to escape her mouth. That could wait.
"Give her the code, Marla. It's all right. Trust me. This--," he indicated the ship, "this is just one big flying lie. Janeway and Torres and Seven – they're telling you the truth. Listen to me. Listen to my voice. It's all gonna be okay. Give them the code."
Marla Gilmore stared at her former crew mate blearily, looking like she desperately wanted to believe. Her mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. Her tongue darted out and licked her lips.
"The code," Lessing said. "Trust me. Trust them. She's not lying."
If she starts up with that cleansing and penance crap again, I'm calling for a beam-out no matter what the captain wants, B'Elanna Torres thought.
Instead, Marla looked at the deck, swallowed, and let out a long, sobbing breath.
"Seven...four...six...,"
"Five-six?" Janeway prompted.
B'Elanna clamped her eyes shut and wanted to smack herself. I am an absolute fucking idiot. I can't believe I didn't think of that. Seven-four-six-five-six. As in NCC-74656, the registry number of USS Voyager.
"Code accepted," the computer announced in a calm voice, and obediently displayed the emergency warp shutdown screen. B'Elanna pawed at the controls, taking the warp drive offline. A great wave of relief swept over her as the numbers began to fall from one hundred two percent down to ninety, then eighty, then on down to zero.
Captain Janeway let out a long breath. "You're a good man in the clutch, Mr. Lessing. Your vote of confidence is much appreciated."
Lessing smiled a cool smile. "We're all in this together," he said simply.
B'Elanna let out her own relieved sigh. "Warp core is offline, captain."
Janeway nodded and stood up. She tapped her combadge. "Janeway to Voyager."
"Voyager here," Chakotay responded.
"Any sign of the cloaked vessel?"
"Negative. Weapons fire ceased when we boarded Equinox."
"Understood. Prepare for beam-out." Janeway cut contact and looked around thoughtfully. B'Elanna knew the look; she was suspecting something.
"It's still out there," Janeway said reflectively. "This was too easy."
The words escaped her before she could catch them. "You think that was easy?" B'Elanna smiled abashedly and added, "Captain."
Janeway nodded slowly. She turned to Seven. "Sev—Annika—can you detect any sign of mutagenic particles here?"
Seven recovered a tricorder and scanned the engine room briefly. "No," she announced shortly. "There is no trace of mutagenic particles here. The warp core appears to be normal. There is no evidence of enhanced warp."
Janeway's face cracked in a small smile. "So our prodigal daughter did come home," she said thoughtfully.
She rose to her feet and looked thoughtfully at Marla Gilmore, clearly weighing something in her mind. Without a word, she took off her own combadge and put it on the other woman's uniform. Then she walked over to a corner, lifted another combadge, and flipped it over to look at it thoughtfully for a moment. She walked over to where the dead man lay, observed him for a moment, and then put it on him.
When she returned to where Marla Gilmore still sprawled, Gilmore flinched but didn't otherwise react. Janeway tapped the combadge.
"Janeway to Tuvok. I want you to take command of this ship."
"Understood, Captain," Tuvok replied
B'Elanna realized what it was her captain meant to do and smiled. Janeway tapped the combadge again to reach Voyager.
"Tuvok will remain in command of this ship," she instructed. "Beam Ransom and Burke to transporter room one. Have security guards waiting to escort them to the brig. They can chat with their buddy. Beam everyone in Engineering to transporter room two." She smiled tightly. "Energize."
Kilbourne had been listening to all communications from the captured Grambyo. It didn't matter. He still could win.
"Sir," his electronic warfare agent said. "I've got access to their transporters."
Kilbourne nodded. "Good. We'll divide this up fair and square. Let the Voyager crew go back to their ship. Divert Ransom, Burke, Lessing, and Gilmore here. Then lock down Grambyo and we'll just take care of Voyager."
"Aye, sir," the electronic warfare agent said, and worked his console. "Diverting to our transporter room now."
Kilbourne smiled. "Transporter room?" he asked.
The transporter chief's voice sounded puzzled. "Uh...sir...we've got Ransom and Burke...,"
Kilbourne's voice remained calm. Only those who knew him well realized he was angry. "And?" he prompted.
"We've got Lessing, but he's dead. Phaser to the chest, it looks like. I don't have Gilmore at all." Kilbourne could hear the transporter chief frantically working his console to figure out what had gone wrong.
"Okay," the transporter chief said, sounding nervous. "Janeway must've put her combadge on Gilmore. The pattern looks that way. Then she must've grabbed onto someone and Voyager's buffer kicked on."
Kilbourne let air hiss out from between his teeth. "And where is Miss Gilmore, then?" he asked archly. The bridge crew trembled, knowing that when this was over, the transporter chief would be lucky to be working in a dilithium mine far from the centers of the Federation. Section 31 did not treat failures kindly.
"On Voyager," the transporter chief admitted nervously.
"I see," Kilbourne said in a bloodless voice that promised a horrible fate. "Electronic warfare? Can you get her back?"
The electronic warfare agent's fingers flew over his console. "No," he said finally. "They must've realized when we got Ransom and Burke. I'm locked out."
Kilbourne gritted his teeth, a rare sign of anger. Janeway could be a sneaky little minx when she wanted to be. Fine, then. This was cutting too close to the bone. It would end here.
"Weapons agent," he said precisely, "you have their shield frequencies, don't you?"
"Aye, sir," his weapons agent said.
"I want a full spread of torpedoes and phasers. Then keep it up until that ship cracks like a china egg. Helm, keep us moving, standard evasive pattern. Once we cripple the ship we'll go get Gilmore, then we'll kill the rest of them off." He swiveled in his chair and glared openly at the starship on the screen. That starship's crew should have just been willing to smile and wave for the crowds and leave Marla Gilmore to pay her debt to society in the best way she could. Operations security had been far too stretched here.
Kilbourne bared his teeth at the ship and imagined it as it would be in a few minutes: with gaping holes in the hull and kl axons blaring. They wanted a warp core breach? He'd give 'em one.
"Fire," he snapped.