Obi-Wan strode mechanically beside Xanatos down the hall from the brig, but while his face was impassive, his mind was in turmoil. For five long minutes and more he had watched as the two Offworlders took out all their anger on Will; forced to watch without reacting for fear that Xanatos would carry through on his threat to let his Offworld minions take Will's life if Obi-Wan so much as flinched. He knew he should not allow Xanatos to control him with threats, but the alternative was too real and too terrible to contemplate.
It had taken all Obi-Wan's strength of mind, all his long lessons in patience and control, to keep still and silent as Will struggled to keep from crying out, to keep from defending himself, or even to hide from the heavy punches and kicks of his attackers. Even when he crashed to his knees from a blow to the kidneys - even when two ribs cracked from a vicious kick - Will had remained silent and unresisting. The guards had to drag him back to the cell, finally, where Dr. Crusher immediately bent to tend him. And all Obi-Wan could do for Will was to hide inside himself, to hurt him with yet another apparent betrayal. Obi-Wan held no illusion about the effect of his silence on Will. The tall Commander had looked on him with such pain, it was nearly a physical blow to the young Padawan's senses in the Force.
And it was not over yet.
Xanatos turned into a small, empty room just down the hall from the brig, pushing Obi-Wan in ahead of him and letting the door slide shut behind them. Obi-Wan stood still in the center of the room, waiting. Xanatos paced the edge of the room, circling the boy like a hungry predator.
He had not long to wait for the pounce.
Xanatos barked a laugh. "Did you feel their anger, little Jedi? Their hatred? All aimed at us! Such power in such a simple act." He stopped, watching Obi-Wan: a malicious smile played on his lips and in the flash of his eyes. "But I forget myself," he continued slowly, "you cannot answer me." He flicked his wrist.
Obi-Wan felt a sudden rush as his mind was released, as though from a strangling net he had ceased to notice until it was gone. He coughed. "Liar," he spat out. "Don't play the charming gentleman with me. I know better. You don't forget."
"True. How very true. And I do nothing without reason." He stepped closer to Obi-Wan as he spoke, his voice low and confiding. Obi-Wan stepped away, toward the wall.
"Why are you doing this? Why force me into this role?"
Xanatos smiled and continued his slow advance. "Why indeed? Because it sows confusion and despair in the ranks of the people who took you in. They wonder if I am here, and they prisoners, because they risked their lives to defend an emotionless, thankless, half-human monster. How quickly love can turn to hatred, when the flames are fanned aright."
Obi-Wan stopped abruptly, with the wall to his back. He looked up at Xanatos, now towering over him, blue eyes glittering like shards of ice. Anger rose in his breast, cold and raging as a mountain flood in spring. With a sudden flick of his wrist, he called Xanatos' saber to his hand.
Pain exploded behind his eyes with a rain of stars, pierced the base of his neck like a knife. He fell to the floor, gasping. As quickly as it had begun, it ended. He felt his mind squeezed as though it were trapped in a vise. Xanatos still sneered down at him. The dark Jedi had activated the implant once more, imprisoning his mind and his voice. Obi-Wan burst into gut-wrenching, uncontrollable sobs.
Xanatos sank slowly to one knee before him, watching, self-satisfied as a cat with a mouse to play with. "Of course, I never have only one reason. Vengeance is sweet, Obi-Wan." With one hand he brushed the boy's face with his fingertips; Obi-Wan flinched away from him. "If you prefer, however, we can end this game. On my finest Offworld guardship I have prepared for you a sensory deprivation chamber. I cannot promise you time free of dreams or pain, but you will no longer have to look upon your once-friends here; you will no longer have to hurt them in order to protect them. My scientific crew is very much looking forward to having a strong Force-sensitive on whom to test their theories and their concoctions."
Obi-Wan shuddered in horror.
"Well then, is that your preference?"
The young Jedi shook his head. He would endure. At least here on Enterprise he had some slim chance of finding a way to thwart Xanatos.
Xanatos stood, still watching him. "You may have a few minutes to compose yourself, before I return you to the detention area."
Obi-Wan scrubbed at his face with one sleeve. Xanatos' steady regard burned him, but he had no spirit left to express his anger. He took slow, ragged breaths, breath by breath returning to a semblance of self-control. When at last his tears had stopped he pushed to his feet, straightening his clothes and letting his limbs and features fall slack. Once more he followed Xanatos' lead; once more Xanatos' creature. For now.
The Enterprise crew stared at them with palpable anger and suspicion when they returned to the cell. They had good reason for their feelings, but Obi-Wan also felt Xanatos drawing on their emotions, strengthening them with the dark Force. Obi-Wan had seen the effect before, once: in the Katharsis dome on Telos, he had seen Xanatos build upon the baser emotions of the gathered crowd, enhancing their greed and bloodthirsty desire for excitement until the Dark Side swelled in power; until the normally peaceful people of that planet were ready to bet all their money on the outcomes of a dangerous and violent game. Here again, though the Enterprise officers were strong-minded people, Obi-Wan could feel the subtle effects of Xanatos' suggestions.
The officers were gathered around Will where he lay on the narrow bunk, bare to the waist and purple with bruises. His arms had been released from the binders when he was pushed into the cell. Dr. Crusher stood over him, doing what she could with what little she had: strips of cloth ripped from Will's shirt, for the most part. Obi-Wan kept his eyes unfocused in front of him. it was all he could do to keep from bursting into tears once more. He chastised himself for his lack of control. It was bad enough to have cried in front of Xanatos. To lose control here would be to invite a far worse response from the Dark Jedi than just his mocking laugh.
"My simulant will be staying with you for a while. Remember I have young Wesley as surety of your good behavior." He indicated the boy sitting on the floor, chained to the security station behind them, under the guns of alien invaders. Then he had his subordinates power down the energy wall blocking the entrance to the cell, and waited. Obi-Wan stepped inside, his heart sinking, though his face remained expressionless. After that little speech, everyone would be certain he was there to spy on them. He would have no way to convince them of his true loyalties, certainly not while he was mute. He stood by the door as the wall sprang into place behind him.
"Make certain the ship is secured, and post guards. Have the engineers transferred over." Xanatos watched as Cadersa implemented his orders.
"Tempen Vee wants to know if he can begin sorting the prisoners and transferring them to slave transports," she informed him.
"Sorting of the prisoners may begin. He may transport the new slaves once the invasion of Lansar is well established. We can spare no ships before the assault." Xanatos turned to the captain. "Time to explore my new ship," he sneered.
When Xanatos had finally gone Obi-Wan sank to the floor, legs crossed, and bent his head.
-
For a while, no one spoke. Will, for one, had no desire even to look at the boy he had fostered. As the child could not speak to them, and could not be trusted regardless, no one else felt the need to try to interact with him.
Dr. Crusher, with Picard's help, had Will sit up so she could wrap his ribs in long strips of cloth. Riker ached everywhere, but slowly his pain was subsiding. True to Xanatos' command, Hairy Vengeance and his cronies had not hurt him permanently. Will wondered why. Why keep him whole? Certainly Xanatos didn't seem to mind killing - Will knew of at least ten crewmembers already dead in the battle. No, if Will was being kept alive, it was for a reason. Because of the boy?
Will glanced at him, sitting so still by the door. He looked almost miserable. Except his back was perfectly straight. But then, he always sat straight. Oh, hell, Will thought. I've seen him frightened, and sad, and I've comforted him. I've laughed with him. It just hurts to know that none of it was real, not for him. That he meant all along to betray us. But in the back of his mind, Will couldn't help wondering: how could a bionengineered creation fake so well emotions he had never had a chance to experience?
Data gestured for the Captain and others to huddle around Will on his bench. Ben did not move from his position on the floor.
"Captain," Data said quietly - too quietly for Ben to hear, they hoped - "I would like your permission to experiment with the effect of the coded transmissions on Ben's implant. I can broadcast -"
"Are you certain you won't hurt him?" Picard asked, whispering.
"It seems unlikely, since he was unhurt by the earlier transmissions."
Picard looked to Will, questioning. Will shrugged.
"Proceed."
Dispersing to stand near the wall or to sit on the floor or bunk, the Enterprise officers waited to see what would happen. Will could almost feel the tension in the room. Worf had barely ceased pacing since they were imprisoned here; Geordi sat on the floor at the back, lost in thought. From the corner of his eye Will saw Ben stir.
The boy raised his head, slowly, and brought a hand to his throat. His eyes searched the room, finally settling on Data, who was studying him, head characteristically tilted to one side. Ben looked almost frightened, and yet... eager.
"I believe I have been successful," Data stated. "Will you not respond in kind?"
Ben's eyes crinkled in confusion. "What... respond in kind?" he asked in a hoarse voice.
"You are speaking. I had expected you would respond through the implant."
"I can't -"
"Hold on a minute," Picard interrupted. "We need answers to a few questions before -"
"What's going on in there?" called one of the guards.
"I need my 'saber," Ben told Picard urgently, rising quickly to his feet.
"Your what?"
The guard was approaching rapidly. "Too late," he answered. "Just be ready."
"We can't let you -" Worf began, but the guard had already arrived, and Picard shushed him to silence.
The boy turned to face the guard. "You can let us out now," he told the woman, and moved two fingers across the space between them as he spoke.
"I'll let you out now," the guard echoed tonelessly, then bent and turned off the energy field. Immediately Ben was out of the cell; before Will could blink, it seemed, he had disarmed the woman and aimed her weapon toward Wesley.
"No!" Deanna cried.
Worf was quickest. In an instant he slammed into the boy, but too late to keep him from firing. Will's stomach lurched in the instant it took for the laser bolt to cross the room. Luck was with them. It slammed into the alien guard there, knocking her senseless just as she was pulling out her weapon.
Worf had a phaser in hand before she hit the floor, pulled from some hiding place in his uniform. He wrenched the weapon from Ben, pointing it back at the boy, and used his phaser to down another guard in the time Will and the others took to exit the cell. Picard was first to the downed guard. He took her weapon and covered Wesley. Deanna, Geordi, Ensign Davis, and Beverly found cover behind the security station while they looked for weapons. Data zipped across the room with android speed and disarmed a third guard. Worf handed the weapon he had taken from Ben to Will, then crossed the room himself to cover Wes and the captain.
Will kept his weapon trained on Ben. The boy made no effort to move. In moments the fight was over. With quick efficiency Worf and the two ensigns searched all of the fallen guards, going first to those still living to relieve them of their communication devices. Hairy Vengeance had fallen near to Will; glancing over Will saw the alien pull a communicator from his pocket. Quickly Will stepped over and kicked the device from its hand.
In those few seconds Ben left the cell, running toward Wesley. Dr. Crusher reached Wes's side first. Worf intercepted Ben, swinging him around by one arm to face him. Will went to join them. Was the boy even now attempting to carry out Xanatos' orders?
"I would prefer you to remain within my reach," Worf growled. "I don't know what you are, or what you think you're doing -"
"I would never hurt Wesley!" Ben exclaimed. Will was startled hearing his voice again; it had lost most of its huskiness: a sweet, clear, almost melodic boy's soprano, lilting in tone and precise in diction, as expressive and open as Ben's young face. "I would never hurt any of you!"
Data activated the brig's force field; they heard its hum as it sprang up, behind them this time. Enterprise's officers gathered around the boy, looking variously wary, curious, and grim. Wesley, too, joined the circle: he leaned against his mother's supporting arm, his expression anxious.
Worf twisted Ben's arm behind the boy's back, positioning Ben in front of him. "Captain, we haven't much time. If Ben has informed Xanatos -"
Ben looked shocked. "I've told him nothing!"
"We detected coded transmissions to and from Xanatos's ship when he first arrived in the system," said Data, "and we traced them to you."
"Decoys," Ben answered, "to get you to believe whatever story he concocted. I transmitted nothing."
"Xanatos claimed he didn't need the boy's conscious cooperation to get information from him," Worf reminded the captain. "Whether Ben is lying or merely a tool, we cannot leave him free: he's too dangerous."
"I'm not lying and I'm not mistaken," Ben clenched his fists in frustration, but Worf kept a steady grip on his arm.
"At least there have been no transmissions since Xanatos left us, possibly because of my interference," Data put in, his tone reasonable as always.
"Whatever Xanatos told you, the purpose was to turn you against me, so you would keep me helpless. I tell you, I'm not working for him, unwitting or willing! I am not his slave or his creature. Please," his voice turned pleading. "Let me help fight him. I know these people, I know their weapons and their tactics. I can help." Ben looked to Will, his eyes hopeful, but the commander gave no response: he kept his expression cool and crossed his arms. A look of pain creased the boy's features. Almost Will relented. Almost.
"Sir," Worf said, "it can't be long before Xanatos will discover what has happened here. We can leave Ensigns Davis and Dinarra to bluff with the communicators for as long as they can, but we should also make a plan to free the crew, and to liberate the ship."
"I am aware of that, Mr. Worf. We'll leave Davis and Dinarra as you suggested."
The two ensigns nodded. "Find us more weapons," Worf instructed them.
"Mr. Worf," the Captain continued. "You will lead a team to the upper decks to free the civilian captives. Take Dr. Crusher and Mr. Data. The rest of us will work on regaining control of the ship. We'll begin at the cargo transporter bay. Mr. Worf, you will join us as soon as you've freed and secured the hostages."
"What about me?" Wes asked. "I can help Geordi."
Picard looked to Dr. Crusher, who bit her lip and nodded.
"All right, Wesley," the Captain answered. "But you will follow my orders," he added. "No heroics."
"No heroics," Wes agreed.
"And what about me?" Ben asked in a subdued voice.
"I think we should leave him in one of the cells here," Worf said.
"No!" the boy begged, looking horrified. He turned to Picard. "You don't know that I'm working against you," he pleaded.
"True," Picard nodded. "Perhaps we should take him with us. With precautions," he added when Worf looked as though he might object.
"I won't do anything," Ben said earnestly.
"Bring a pair of wrist cuffs," Worf ordered Ensign Dinarra. She brought some from the guard station. Worf cuffed Ben's free hand first, then brought it back to join the other.
Ben looked up at the Klingon towering over him. "I won't be able to climb ladders with my hands bound behind me," he quietly pointed out. The security chief grimaced and released the arm he'd been holding. Ben brought both hands quietly together in front of him. He waited unmoving as Worf snapped the cuff on his second wrist.
"All right," Picard said, sounding less than satisfied. "It's time to move out. We'll use the emergency ladders and maintenance routes. Number One, you take the rear." Picard led the way to the maintenance access down the hall from the brig. All was clear in the narrow passage. Seven officers and two boys passed through, allowing the door to slide shut behind them. The passage stretched to either side, dimly lit from glowlights near the floor. The wall markings indicating position and directions to the major junctions were difficult to read with only emergency lighting, but they wouldn't take the risk of lighting a hand-lamp. Such a light would be all too easy to see from the main corridors, with the ship lights dimmed. They waited for their eyes to adjust, then strung out single file behind the captain: there wasn't room to walk two abreast.
Ben walked just ahead of Will as they followed the captain through the door of the cargo transporter room. There the two groups would separate; Worf and Data and Dr. Crusher on a route that would take them over the Matter/Antimatter reaction column that spanned twelve decks vertically, then up to the saucer module; the rest of them doing what they could at the transporter room workstations, then continuing on to engineering if necessary. Will couldn't help noticing that the boy walked as surely as any of them, and a good deal more quietly. "So what else don't we know about you?" he asked quietly as they gathered, at last, in the quiet of the powered-down transporter room. Ben looked around to flash him a tentative, impish smile.
Not again. You can't try charm on me now, Will thought bitterly.
The boy's smile vanished, replaced by a look of alarm. He slammed into Will, knocking him painfully to the wall, straining his injured ribs. Angrily Will shoved the boy away. The high whistle of an energy weapon discharge rang in his ears; the bright flash of a laser caught Ben in the chest where Will had pushed him, twisting the boy and throwing him to the deck. A black sphere flashed above Will, darting and hovering two meters above the floor, just before it burst into flame from a phaser bolt. The remains clattered to the deck in a hail of sparks and hiss of cooling metal.
Will sank to the boy's side. Ben groaned and rolled to his stomach; pushed himself up on his bound hands and sat against the wall, curled over his injury. Will clumsily tried to help him rise. He felt sick. At least the boy was alive. He didn't feel he could bear it if he had just caused Ben's death. He tried to push the boy's arms down, and his head up, so he could examine the injury.
"Don't," Ben whispered, his voice shaking. "It's all right. It's not that bad."
Good lord, was the child crying?
"I'm sorry, Ben," Will said awkwardly. "Truly."
"It's all right, Will. I understand."
"Let me help, okay?"
"It just scratched me. I'm all right, really."
"I'll be the judge of that," said Dr. Crusher, pushing in beside Will. Quickly the boy rubbed his face with his sleeve and submitted to the doctor's professional touch. He still wouldn't look at Will, but kept his eyes focused firmly on the deck.
"What was that thing?" asked Deanna. She watched with Picard from the workstations nearby; she and the captain were guarding Geordi and Wes as they worked. Data stepped over the still-burning sphere, and both he and Worf bent to examine it.
"It's a probe droid," Ben answered in a low voice. "If we're very lucky it won't have reported our presence before it was destroyed."
"Then we will operate under the assumption that it did," Worf said dryly. He pulled his phaser from his pocket. Data's, Will noticed, was still in hand. "How will the invaders respond?"
"Someone will probably come to investigate. Or they'll send more droids."
"Is the boy all right, Doctor?" Picard asked.
"His wound is shallow, thankfully. Painful, but not life-threatening, so long as it's cared for. Another inch to the left would have been much worse. I've done the best I can for it." The wound was red and raw, Will saw: bare of skin and bubbling in a hand-shaped swath: it was coated with salve from the emergency medical supplies the doctor had grabbed before they left the brig. He watched her quickly cover it with a section of synthetic skin. Ben released a long, slow breath; then he let her help him to his feet.
"Time for you to go on, Worf," ordered the captain. "Stay alert, everyone."
"Captain," said Data, "Before we go I would like to know why Ben's implant sent a data burst shortly before the probe droid arrived."
Everyone looked at Ben, who paled. "I didn't -"
"If he is sending signals to Xanatos or probe droids, then it is not safe for you to keep him with you," Worf said.
"Is there any possibility, Ben," Picard asked slowly and deliberately, "that we are being tracked by means of your implant?"
"I don't know," he whispered, looking frightened. "It's possible."
The moments before the probe droid struck replayed themselves in Will's memory. Heaviness settled in the pit of his stomach. "How did you know, Ben, that the probe droid was coming? How did you know to push me away?"
Ben sank against the wall behind him, as if somehow his legs were now to weak to hold him.
"I ask," Will said, and now his words were edged with accusation, "because when you pushed me, you were looking in nearly the opposite direction from which the probe was coming."
Ben closed his eyes. "What could I possibly say that you would believe? You've already judged me guilty of - what? Calling it here? Using it to set up a fake rescue?"
"The truth would be nice, for once."
"I've never lied to you, Will." The boy looked up earnestly, directly into his eyes. "I stole your padd. But I never lied, not once, not even when I was silent." But Will did not believe him. He gazed back, angry, until Ben closed his eyes once more, with a look of terrible hurt.
"Stop evading the question, Ben." Captain Picard's voice was hard.
"I felt it in the Force."
"Through the implant, you mean?" Picard asked.
"No. I can -"
"Someone is approaching through the port corridor," Data announced. "At least fifteen beings, wearing all manner of foot gear."
Worf stepped to the door, and sealed it closed. "We can't keep him, and we can't leave him," the Klingon said firmly. "And this door won't hold five minutes against a determined entry."
"We can send him to Lansar's surface," Geordi announced from his workstation. "We're just within range now. Give me two minutes to calibrate it for human transport."
"But -" Wes protested suddenly.
"You can what - ?" Ben asked at the same moment.
They heard the pounding of energy weapons striking the closed door, slowly at first, then increasing in frequency.
"That's not much better than killing him," Deanna protested. "Where will you send him? To the middle of the desert, to die of thirst? Or to the city, where he's wanted as an escaped slave?"
"It's that or go back to Xanatos," Picard said, looking directly at Ben.
"Lansar," the boy said quickly.
The door grew red.
"Quickly," Worf warned.
"On the platform, then," Picard told Ben. "Somewhere close to a settlement, Geordi."
"Three miles out from Starways?"
"That's fine," Ben answered. He climbed the platform, and stood in the center of a large glowing circle, meant for cargo transport. "Will someone -" he began, raising his bound hands.
Picard turned toward him.
"I have a cutter," Wesley called out, and ran onto the circle with the small tool in hand.
At that moment, the door blew open. The concussion threw Worf back several feet.
At the same time, Ben's cylindrical device flew from Picard's pocket across the platform toward Ben's hands.
"No!" called Will and Deanna simultaneously. They both ran to the circle. Deanna crossed the cylinder's path and blocked it. It clattered to the floor and rolled behind the platform.
Laser fire criss-crossed the room, and Geordi ducked - in time to miss the beam that sailed over his head, but still in the path of another that struck the back of his chair. He fell forward against the console.
The transporter energized.
Will caught a last glimpse of the chaos, frozen, washed out: and then they were in the desert. Deanna, Wesley, Ben and himself.