Star Trek: Voyager - 042 - Protectors

by Kirsten Beyer

But the shift in her concentration was so abrupt, Lasren found himself reaching out with his heightened senses automatically. One moment she was all playful banter and the next she entered some state where all that existed was her and the ship she was flying. Lasren had never before sat beside her while she was flying, and he had never seen this change. He wondered if it was something she had learned. Searching more deeply, he saw the truth; it was automatic, as effortless as breathing to her.

  No wonder she’s such a good pilot, he realized.

  “You want to catch dinner when we’re done here?” Gwyn asked brazenly.

  Now that she had maneuvered the shuttle to its optimal position for the dilithium extraction, she was back and had obviously sensed his empathic intrusion. Chiding himself internally for forgetting that she was also a low-level empath, given her Kriosian heritage, he replied, “I apologize for that. I was curious about . . . I . . . uh . . . should have just asked.”

  Gwyn turned to him again and winked playfully. “Curiosity’s not a crime, Lieutenant.” As he felt himself reddening slightly, she added, “We’re in position.”

  Lasren double-checked his operations panel and said, “Ready to begin extraction.”

  “Transporters online and standing by,” Gwyn said.

  “Target acquired. Sensors confirm traker deposit at depth of eighty-six meters. Activating phase-pulse on my mark . . . three, two, one . . . mark,” Lasren said.

  The procedure Commander Torres had outlined to him was not difficult to execute. Slight modifications to the shuttle’s weapons systems and sensors had been required. She had guided him through the process twice before clearing Lasren to launch, and he was determined to follow the fleet chief’s instructions to the letter.

  A short series of phase pulses would vaporize the area around the deposits. Sensors were locked onto the dilithium, and transporters would remove the sample as soon as the surrounding rock had been eliminated. The transport would be Gwyn’s job. Lasren would have to make sure the confinement beam remained stable, to avoid damaging the crystals during transport.

  After a few moments of silence, Lasren said, “Transporters have a lock.”

  “Initiating transport,” Gwyn said.

  The moment the words left her lips, the shuttle rocked violently beneath them.

  “Aborting transport,” she said automatically as she redirected her attention to the navigational sensors.

  “We have company,” Lasren confirmed.

  “Two sentries have emerged from subspace and are approaching our position,” Gwyn said. “I’m getting us out of here, Lieutenant.”

  “Works for me,” Lasren agreed, then tapped the communications controls. “Delta Flyer to Voyager. We have a problem.”

  “We see them. Don’t worry,” Chakotay’s assured voice said.

  DEMETER

  Commander Liam O’Donnell was about to congratulate Ensign Brill for his work in bay three. Suddenly, four different species—two docile, medium-sized ungulates, a juvenile cervidae, two winged creatures reminiscent of the Terran Anser genera, and a frisky, rather large iguana he would have sworn was a Pumila, simultaneously ceased their grazing and began moving through their containment areas as if they were trying to flee an approaching predator.

  Before O’donnell could begin to understand this reaction, a loud, sharp growling howl met his ears, clearly coming from bay four down the hall.

  Monster? he thought.

  Acting on instinct, O’donnell moved to one of the lab’s microscopes where bacteria native to the “ark planet” was undergoing analysis. He immediately noted an increase in cellular activity.

  “What the hell is going on out there?” he bellowed.

  THE ARK PLANET

  Commander Tom Paris had been ready to leave the cavern an hour ago. He’d seen all he cared to of the wave form’s birthplace, but Kim and Fife were like kids in a candy store; there were so many possibilities and nothing but time to test them.

  Then the first tremor hit.

  Kim and Fife were brainstorming about the alien technology that had failed to bring the wave forms fully into being when the ground shifted subtly, and both automatically moved closer to the doorway.

  Loose dust began to descend from above as Paris said, “We’re leaving, gentlemen.”

  Swift assents were their only response.

  Once the tunnel that led to this cavern had been cleared, Paris and his team had transported down directly from Voyager. They had brought portable pattern enhancers and set them up near the doorway to facilitate their return.

  They were five meters from salvation when a loud crack from above caused Paris to automatically reach for the backs of Kim and Fife’s environmental suits. He was able to pull both of them clear before the rocks began to fall. They retreated as far as they could, avoiding the edge of the plateau, and watched in dismay as the doorway that had been their only exit caved in, burying their transport enhancers along with it.

  “Paris to Voyager,” the first officer called, activating his suit’s comm system.

  When he got no immediate response, Kim and Fife tried as well with no better luck.

  “They can’t get a transport lock on us now anyway!” Kim shouted. The cavern sounded as if it was about to tear itself apart.

  “Then we dig,” Paris ordered over the cacophony. Moving back toward what had been the doorway, he reached for the closest rock and heaved it out of the way.

  Fife was beside him, grunting with strenuous effort when Kim said, “Tom.”

  “Dig, Harry!” Paris ordered again.

  “Tom,” Kim said more urgently, and his tone forced Paris to turn and follow his best friend’s gaze.

  From below, several small wave forms had emerged from the darkness and were making their way directly for the away team.

  “I thought you said the wave forms in here couldn’t emerge from subspace!” Paris shouted at Kim.

  “They can’t,” Kim shouted back. “These are different.”

  “Where did they come from?”

  “Somewhere down there!” came Kim’s exasperated response.

  “Which kind are they?” Paris asked, simultaneously feeling the ground beneath his feet disappear.

  Kim started to answer, but as the wave forms enveloped them, his and Fife’s screams overloaded the suit’s comms.

  VOYAGER

  Much of the time spent on a starship was routine, if not dull. Then, there were moments like this one where everything seemed to go wrong at once.

  Lieutenant Waters, who had taken Lasren’s place at ops, advised Chakotay the moment the eruption of the sentries was detected near the Delta Flyer II. Kim had hand-picked Lieutenant Aubrey to man the tactical station, and Ensign Gleez, the gamma shift flight controller, had the helm.

  Commander Torres had insisted on monitoring Lasren and Gwyn’s work from the bridge and currently sat at Chakotay’s right hand. The moment the sentries appeared, she cursed softly.

  Not truly surprised by this eventuality, Chakotay ordered, “Helm, set course four-four-one mark eight and engage. Full impulse. Aubrey, prepare to vent tetryon plasma. Ops, do we still have a lock on the Flyer’s crew?”

  “Aye, sir,” Waters said from ops.

  “Get them out,” Chakotay ordered.

  The sentries were still five thousand meters from the Delta Flyer II when Waters advised, “Transport successful, sir.”

  “Aubrey?” Chakotay asked.

  “We’ll be in position to vent plasma in forty seconds, Captain,” Aubrey said evenly.

  “Captain, I’m receiving a transmission from Demeter,” Waters said.

  “What’s the problem?” Chakotay asked.

  “The away teams have come under attack by the creatures they were studying and are requesting emergency transports. They need Voyager back in orbit as soon as possible.”

  “They can’t handle the transports?” Chakotay demanded.

  “They can’t get a lock on team six. There was a cave
-in, and they lost the signal from the pattern enhancers.”

  “Team six?” Torres asked.

  “Commanders Paris and Fife and Lieutenant Kim,” Waters clarified.

  The engineeer was on her feet in an instant and moving to Waters’s station. “Open a channel to Demeter,” she ordered briskly. “I need to speak to the transporter officer.”

  “Venting tetryon plasma,” Aubrey reported.

  Chakotay watched as the sentries distorted and then retreated back into subspace. He could hear Torres’s exchange with Demeter’s transporter officer.

  “Captain, there’s another . . .” Aubrey said.

  A sentry appeared on the viewscreen within less than two thousand meters of the shuttle.

  “What’s its trajectory?” Chakotay asked.

  “It’s heading for the shuttle,” Waters replied.

  Why? Chakotay asked himself. The attempt to remove the dilithium had ceased the moment the first sentries were detected. The shuttle no longer posed any threat to them or the asteroid. Was this a show of force, or was it simply trying to punish them for their transgression?

  Much as Chakotay hated to take action against the wave forms, he also wasn’t content to allow them to destroy one of the most advanced shuttles in the fleet.

  “Aubrey, target the sentry and fire tetryon pulses.”

  As soon as he had spoken, however, a new wave form appeared between the shuttle and the sentry.

  “The sentry is slowing, sir,” Waters advised. “The new wave form is a proctor.”

  “Hold your fire,” Chakotay ordered.

  It appeared that the sentry would pass the proctor, but as it approached, the proctor began to expand as if it intended to swallow the sentry whole. Before they made contact, the sentry ceased its motion, though its EM discharges appeared to increase in intensity. The proctor held its ground, and seconds later, both vanished from the main viewscreen.

  What just happened? Chakotay wondered.

  Torres’s voice sliced through the air. “Listen to me,” she said. “Forget the pattern enhancers. Set your sensors for optimum mineral resolution and scan for calcium phosphate.”

  “I’m sorry, Commander, but our sensors can’t penetrate the magnetic field,” the unfortunate transport officer replied.

  “You need more power,” Torres said, doing her best to control her temper. “Take it from all non-essential systems. Do it now,” she ordered.

  “There’s too much interference,” the officer insisted.

  Torres’s eyes met Chakotay’s, and they spoke volumes of the pain she clearly wished to inflict upon the transport officer. “Captain,” she pleaded.

  “Gleez, best possible speed to the planet,” Chakotay ordered.

  “En route,” Gleez confirmed. “We’ll be in range in four minutes, sir.”

  The engineer shook her head slowly. She obviously didn’t think it wise to wait that long.

  Before Chakotay could reassure her, Waters advised, “Captain, incoming transmission from Commander O’donnell.”

  “Onscreen,” Chakotay ordered.

  O’donnell’s face was set in grim lines, and his eyes were blazing. “Did you just send a shuttle to collect something from a nearby asteroid?”

  “Yes,” Chakotay replied coldly. “But that’s not our priority right now. We have a team trapped underground at the planet’s southern pole and we need to get them out.”

  “Transporters aren’t an option without the pattern enhancers,” O’Donnell said.

  “If you would . . . !” Torres began.

  “Commander Torres!” Chakotay cut her off sharply. “Can you send another team down with enhancers?”

  “There’s a seismic event under way in that area,” O’donnell replied. “And we’ve still got four other teams under attack we need to retrieve.”

  “Why so many?” Chakotay asked.

  “You didn’t think the wave forms would mind when you sent that shuttle out?” O’donnell asked, incredulous.

  “I considered it,” Chakotay replied.

  “We already know this entire area of space is one vast interconnected ecosystem,” O’donnell reminded him.

  “And now we know they value every bit of it as much as they seem to value the planet,” Chakotay said. “It was a calculated risk.”

  “It’s not just the wave forms, Captain,” O’Donnell said. “All of the life-forms native to the planet displayed erratic otherwise unexplainable behavior, as did every life-form we were studying on the surface.”

  “Captain O’Donnell,” a voice called from Demeter’s bridge.

  “What is it, Lieutenant Url?” O’Donnell asked.

  “We have incoming.”

  “Incoming what?” O’Donnell asked tersely.

  “It’s hard to say, sir. Sensors show three life-forms in environmental suits. But they’re not moving under the suit’s power. They’re rising out of the atmosphere.”

  “Can you get a transporter lock now?” Torres asked through gritted teeth.

  “They are each surrounded by a unique EM field. It’s scattering the targeting sensors.”

  “Move to intercept,” O’Donnell ordered immediately.

  Chakotay watched as Demeter’s bridge began to shake. O’Donnell seemed to take the incident in stride, looking up as the disruption continued, perhaps wondering if the overhead of the bridge was about to come crashing down on him.

  After a few seconds that felt like a lifetime, the motion ceased.

  “Report,” O’Donnell said.

  Url’s voice replied, “They entered the ship, sir, and the EM field released them. Commanders Fife, Paris, and Lieutenant Kim are in our cargo bay. Medics are on the way.”

  “Are they alive?” Chakotay asked.

  “Aye, sir,” Url replied.

  Grateful beyond words, Chakotay merely nodded. Torres stepped clear of ops and sat down hard on the low step separating the upper ring of the bridge from the command well, her face resting in her hands as she tried to slow her breath.

  “When you reach orbit, why don’t you come aboard, Captain?” O’Donnell offered. “We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

  “Agreed,” Chakotay said, “once we retrieve our shuttle. Voyager out. Ensign Gleez?”

  “Altering course now, Captain,” Gleez said.

  Chapter Fourteen

  UTOPIA PLANITIA

  “Commander Drafar, how nice to see you again,” Admiral Janeway said, extending her hand to the Lendrin captain of Achilles and craning her neck upward to meet his eyes. He was actually taller than Admiral Akaar, and Janeway didn’t think that was possible.

  “And you, Admiral,” he replied, skillfully hiding the surprise he must have felt when he received her orders.

  Turning to a Voyager comrade, Janeway extended her hand to Lieutenant Vorik. She had seen him at the memorial service, but they had not spoken. “Hello, Vorik,” she said warmly.

  The hand that grasped hers was cold, but his voice was colder. “Admiral.” He nodded, clipping the word to two harsh syllables.

  Janeway was surprised at this. Although they had never been close, she had followed Vorik’s progress in Voyager’s engineering section and felt the same proprietary regard for him as for all who had served under her in the Delta Quadrant. She could have been misreading Vulcan discipline for anger, but she didn’t think so.

  Letting it go for now, Janeway turned to Captain Regina Farkas, the only reunion she had anticipated with any trepidation. “Captain Farkas, you’re looking well.”

  “Thank you, Admiral,” Farkas said, taking her hand firmly. Janeway read considerably less anger than she had expected, along with a healthy dose of curiosity.

  “If you will all follow me, I’ll explain your orders,” Janeway said, leading the trio down a long flight of stairs to the holding area, a vast space of necessity, given what it housed.

  When they had settled themselves in the dimly lit area, Janeway said, “Computer, maximum illumination.” The comp
uter acknowledged the order with a trilling beep and soon the room was aglow as light reflected off and gently caressed thousands of pieces of starship, only a few large bulkheads still intact.

  “Captain, Commander, Lieutenant, meet the Vesta,” Janeway said.

  Drafar and Vorik exchanged confused glances, but Farkas’s eyes met hers with approval.

  “What’s left of her,” Vorik said softly.

  “Obviously, she has seen better days,” Janeway acknowledged. “The Vesta was the test ship for the class now named in her honor—the first Starfleet vessels equipped with combined warp and slipstream drives.”

  “If memory serves, she was decommissioned after her test runs were complete,” Drafar noted.

  “She suffered many well-earned bumps and bruises,” Janeway said, “a fate not uncommon for trailblazers. At the time, when Starfleet’s resources were more plentiful, it was decided that she would best serve our future as a template for Quirinal, among others.”

  “She’ll never fly again, Admiral,” Vorik said, clearly sensing where this was going.

  “Sure she will,” Farkas corrected him.

  “The Full Circle fleet cannot safely complete its mission in the Delta Quadrant with the resources left to it, and Starfleet does not currently have the resources to build a Vesta-class ship for the mission. Apart from Commander Torres,” Janeway continued, “the crew who resurrected Quirinal are here in the Alpha Quadrant and have now been assigned to extend the same courtesy to the Vesta. I believe what you did once, you can do again, particularly when you have the resources of Utopia Planitia at your disposal. We can rebuild the Vesta.”

  “How long do we have to accomplish this task, Admiral?” Drafar asked.

  “Four weeks,” Janeway replied.

  “It will take at least ten weeks to bring her up to current specs,” Vorik replied.

  “Four weeks,” Janeway countered. “Five, if you wish to disappoint me.”

  “Four would be better,” Farkas insisted.

  “Captain?” Janeway asked.

  Farkas said nothing, but her reply was clearly written all over her face. When we’re done here, Admiral.