Angel of Mercy
Page 1
ANGEL OF MERCY
By Terri Zavaleta
Captain Kathryn Janeway studied the figures on the viewscreen. They
were humanoid, feline in appearance, and walked upright, strongly
reminding her of lions with heavily muscled bodies though the Kastini,
as they referred to themselves, were various shades of black or gray,
rather than tawny, with rippling, waving masses of hair framing their
flat Human-like faces and falling from their foreheads to cascade down
their backs.
The leader, the central figure, wore a headpiece of a glittering
feathery material that reminded Chakotay of headdresses worn by
certain tribes on his colony world. "I am Ygaral of the Kastini
Council. What do you want?"
Janeway ignored his abruptness and nodded respectfully. "I'm Captain
Kathryn Janeway of the Federation Starship *Voyager*. We request
permission to begin peaceful trade negotiations with your people."
Ygaral's head jerked back. "We do not conduct business in this
manner. If you wish to negotiate, send a proper delegation to our
Council." He made a gesture to someone offscreen. "We are uploading
protocols to ensure proper behavior." The connection was broken.
Janeway turned and cocked an eyebrow at Chakotay. He smiled
reluctantly. "You have to admit, he got right to the point."
"An unusual trait in a bureaucrat," Paris commented wryly.
Janeway glanced at the Operations station. "Mr. Kim, did you get the
file?"
"Yes, Captain."
"Please send it to the terminal in my ready room. Commander?"
Chakotay rose and followed her off the bridge.
# # #
Thirty minutes later, the senior officers were called to a staff
meeting. Each was provided with a copy of the Kastini protocols.
Janeway asked for comments.
"Touchy, aren't they?" Paris said, quirking a sandy eyebrow.
"No more than five in the party? No interaction with their people?"
Torres questioned. "Why? Are they afraid of us?"
"They have a right to dictate terms for visitors," Chakotay stated.
"Their prior experiences with off-planet species may have led them to
develop these protocols in the interests of self-protection. They
probably want to minimize contact."
"So we're supposed to land, or transport, to coordinates two
kilometers away from the city?" Kim asked. "Wouldn't it be better to
provide us with coordinates for the meeting place so we wouldn't have
to walk two kilometers through populated areas?"
Chakotay shrugged. "It may be in the nature of a test, Mr. Kim. To
see if we will respect their laws."
Janeway nodded. "I agree. The away team will take tricorders and
scan for possible natural resources we might trade for, specifically
metals, edible plants, seeds, et cetera. Questions?" No one spoke.
Chakotay got to his feet. "Paris, Kim, Torres, Tuvok. You're with
me. Meet in Transporter Room Two in fifteen minutes with the
appropriate equipment. Please wear your away team suits. The terrain
may be a little rough, so I suggest hiking boots as well."
# # #
The climate was semi-tropical, both too warm and too humid for the
Humans' comfort. Their first action upon arrival was to unzip their
jackets to reveal the tank tops beneath. Tuvok, on the other hand,
almost reveled in the heat.
Chakotay took point and started down the clearly marked path before
them. Tuvok trailed just behind Chakotay, followed by Kim, Torres,
and lastly, Paris. All of them scanned in different directions with
the tricorders, gathering information as they walked.
Hearing a noise, Paris stopped. He heard it again, a sound between a
whimper and a coo. It sounded like a cry of pain from . . . a small
animal? A small child? Tom strained his ears to listen. His
tricorder wasn't indicating life forms in that direction. He looked
up. The others evidently hadn't slowed their pace. They were ten
meters ahead of him on the trail and still moving rapidly away from
him. How had they gotten so far ahead of him so quickly? He'd
thought he was right behind Torres just a moment ago.
"Commander!" Tom shouted. "I think I hear something over here! Do
you think we should check it out?" He didn't want to leave without
identifying the source. It sounded like someone or something was in
distress.
Chakotay stopped at the top of the hill and turned to face Paris.
Without speaking, he waved him off. Tom interpreted the gesture as
permission to investigate. That was odd. He'd expected Chakotay to
come with him or at least assign one of the other team members to do
so. Harry, Tuvok, and B'Elanna hadn't even looked back or
acknowledged his shout. That was kind of weird, too. He'd expected
that they'd at least be curious to see what he was talking about.
Shrugging to himself, Tom followed the sound, walking quietly while
listening carefully. Maybe it was nothing. Could it be the wind?
No, there it was again. It was getting louder and definitely sounded
like a small child crying or whimpering. Feeling a sudden sense of
urgency, he quickened his pace, glad Chakotay had suggested hiking
boots since the sound was leading him off the path and cross-country
into rough, uneven terrain. The closeness of the trees and vegetation
made him feel claustrophobic as he wove in and out over slippery,
vine-covered, rock-strewn ground. He considered turning back, but his
need to be sure that no one was hurt drove him onward. Tom told
himself it was only natural curiosity.
The tightly clustered trees thinned out suddenly and he found himself
in a clearing. In front of him was a ravine, approximately nine
meters across. Tom peered over the edge. It was fifty meters
straight down to a bed of sharply pointed boulders and rushing water.
On the other side, roughly two meters from the edge, sat the source of
the noise. It was a Kastini child, who appeared to be the approximate
size of a two-year-old Human.
The child was crying with tired, hiccuping sobs, as if it had been
crying for some time. And it was alone. On the rim of a river gorge?
That didn't make any sense, unless the Kastini didn't care about their
children's welfare. If so, they were certainly different from Humans
in more than appearance.
Paris tried the tricorder. It wasn't working. He visually scanned
the area, looking for an adult who would surely be close by to
supervise the toddler. Someone had to be there. He couldn't imagine
the child had gotten into this wilderness area alone.
Tom sidled along the edge of the chasm trying to get a better view.
Three meters beyond the child, he saw someone's legs on the ground,
protruding from behind a large tree. There was no hint of movement.
Tom decided that the mother, or whoever, must have been injured. He
was carrying a medkit. If he could just
get over there . . . .
He slapped his commbadge. "Paris to *Voyager*." Nothing. "Paris to
Chakotay." Nothing. "Great!" he said aloud, "no transporter to get
you across. Now what, Tom?"
He heard a louder noise from the child. It had seen him and was
staggering closer to the edge, its arms reaching toward him. "No!" he
shouted, his blue eyes widening with horror. "Baby! Baby! Stay
there! Don't move!" He waved his arms frantically, hoping it was old
enough to recognize by his gestures that he wanted it to back up or at
least sit down.
He got the child's attention. It stopped suddenly and, thrown off
balance, sat down on its thickly diapered bottom with a thump that
raised dust. The child stared at the strange-looking creature waving
its arms and gurgled with laughter, clapped its hands together, then
waved back at Paris as if playing a game with him.
Tom took a second to catch his breath. He put a hand to his heart to
be sure it was still in his chest. At least the kid was sitting
still--for now. "Good baby, nice kid," he called soothingly,
gesturing at the ground. "Stay there. I'll be right there . . .
somehow." He looked around. There wasn't a bridge within sight. Why
couldn't anything ever be easy? Just once?
There were a lot of trees though. Big ones. And vines. Long ones.
An idea came to him, but he quickly dismissed it. "Come on, Tom,
you've been watching too many antique vid programs. Still . . ."
He gazed across the gulf at the child. "That kid isn't going to stay
put forever. You need to get across." He mentally ran through his
limited options once more before glancing at the vines again. "Why
not? It can't hurt to try." After making sure his backpack was
secure, he jumped, caught the lowest limb of the tree closest to the
edge of the ravine and began to pull himself up.
# # #
Chakotay called a halt so the team could rest and drink some water.
There was another kilometer to walk and it definitely wasn't getting
any cooler. Dehydration was a concern so they each pulled out a
canteen.
"Where's Tom?" B'Elanna asked Harry, glancing around curiously as she
sat down on a large boulder next to the trail.
Harry frowned. "I don't know. Wasn't he in front of you?"
"No. I thought he was behind you," Torres said. Now they were all
looking back down the trail.
Chakotay scowled. "He was supposed to bring up the rear. Why would
he wander off? He knows better than that."
Harry defended his friend. "Tom wouldn't take off on his own without
a good reason."
"Yes, he does know better," Tuvok stated. "It is possible Mr. Paris
was taken against his will."
"Without us hearing anything?" Torres snorted. "Not likely."
"Not impossible," Tuvok corrected. "It would depend on the means of
coercion employed."
"You mean they knocked him out or something?" Harry's unease was
becoming anxiety for his missing friend.
"His position at the rear would make him the most logical target and
facilitate any attempt on the away team," Tuvok said dispassionately.
"Let's not jump to conclusions," Chakotay instructed. He hit his
commbadge. "Chakotay to Paris."
Nothing. The away team exchanged glances.
"It might be the climate or something in the atmosphere interfering
with communications," Kim suggested, his analytical mind racing to
find an explanation.
"Nothing showed up on my tricorder or the sensor scans that would
cause a malfunction," Torres growled.
Chakotay hit his commbadge again. "Chakotay to Janeway."
"Janeway here. Yes, Commander? You have a report?"
"It's evidently not a communications problem," Chakotay said to Kim.
"Captain, we seem to have lost Mr. Paris."
"Lost him? What happened?"
"Literally lost him. We just stopped for a break and discovered he's
no longer with us. No one noticed when he left and, as far as we
knew, he was behind us all the way," Chakotay reported.
Torres was scanning with her tricorder. "I don't know what's going on
here, Captain. The tricorder isn't registering him. In fact, now it
isn't registering any Human life forms at all."
"Stand by," Janeway replied. After a moment, she said, "Our sensors
don't detect any Human life forms either--yours or Mr. Paris'."
"A systems malfunction?" Kim questioned.
"Unlikely," Tuvok responded. "It would be more logical to assume an
intelligence working to interfere with the readings than to assume
that *Voyager*'s sensor array and four tricorders on the planet's
surface would simultaneously cease to function properly."
"The Kastini protocols said they might test us in some way, Captain,"
Chakotay commented. "Do you think this might be part of the test?"
"Possibly. Do you wish to continue? Or return to the ship?" Janeway
left the decision to her first officer since he was on the scene with
a better grasp of the situation.
"I'm not going anywhere until I find out what happened to Tom," Harry
muttered. He felt guilty for not noticing his friend's disappearance
immediately. Chakotay raised an eyebrow at him. Kim subsided, face
flushing. He hadn't meant to be overheard.
Torres stood and confronted the First Officer. "If this is some kind
of test, how do you think it would look to the Kastini if we turn and
run? And what would they do with Tom if he is their prisoner?"
Chakotay looked at Tuvok. The Vulcan straightened his shoulders. "I,
too, am interested in seeing this assignment through to its natural
conclusion. We are in need of trade goods the Kastini could provide.
We have no proof that Mr. Paris is in any danger or is being held
prisoner. For reasons of his own, he may have decided to follow
another path."
Harry studied the Vulcan skeptically. "Tom wouldn't do that. I know
he doesn't always go by the book but if he had a reason to leave the
trail and go another direction, he would have asked the Commander for
permission or at least told one of us."
"That is proper procedure. He may have neglected to follow it. If he
was coerced, he could not follow proper procedure," Tuvok reminded the
Ensign.
"Captain, I think we'll continue. Perhaps Mr. Paris will catch up
with us. If not, we'll ask the Kastini authorities for help in
locating him," Chakotay stated. "And if Tom just wandered off . . ."
He let the unspoken threat hang in the air.
"I don't think he'd do that without good reason," Janeway said,
unknowingly echoing Harry Kim. "Keep your eyes open and stay
together."
"Aye, Captain. Chakotay out." The remaining away team shouldered
their backpacks again and continued along the trail.
# # #
Paris wrapped his legs around the heavy tree limb and tugged hard on
the vine he'd chosen, testing it with his weight. "Yeah," he told
himself aloud, "this ought to hold." He peered across the gulch. The
baby was still sitting a meter from the edge, playing with sticks and
pebbles, momentarily distracted and content
to stay there---he hoped.
Balancing carefully, Tom stood on the tree branch above the hard,
rocky ground. He grabbed the vine tightly, wrapping it around his arm
to strengthen his grip. Peering down the ravine, he thought it looked
much deeper from the tree and tried not to think about what would
happen if the vine snapped or he misjudged.
"Shut up and do it, Tom! Now, what was that noise that character made
when he did this? What was his name? Chewie? Never mind. Just
remember, you get yourself killed doing something *this* stupid and
the Captain will really get her bun in a twist!" He took a deep
breath and used his feet to shove himself up and away from the tree
branch and out over the gorge.
As he swung across, he said a quick prayer that he had timed the
release correctly. At the top of his swing he was on the other side.
Tom let go of the vine and threw himself further inland, trying to
get as far from the brink as possible. He landed face down, the wind
knocked out of him. Still trying to catch his breath, he raised his
head and looked behind him. From the knees down, he was dangling over
the edge. "Eek!" he gasped weakly, jerking his legs up and curling
into a fetal position.
He turned his head. The baby was staring at him from two meters to
his right. Tom scrambled to his feet and walked to the tree where
he'd seen the legs. A quick glimpse was enough. She was dead. It