by Alys Landale
B’Elanna stepped up as well. “I’m coming with you.”
He shook his head. “We don’t know what will happen.”
She cut him off before he could say anymore. “It should work. It will work. And once you get over there you’ll need all the engineers you can get. I’m the best you could have.”
He hated to admit she had a point. “Two to transport.” he said. In a second both he and B’Elanna were caught in the transporter beam.
Danag looked up as two forms began to flicker into existence. He shook his head to clear his vision and realized that
Captain Landis and Voyager’s chief engineer were standing before him.
He staggered as he got out of his chair. “Captain,” he said.
Paris walked over to the younger man. By his blurred vision and lack of coordination, it was clear that he was suffering from head trauma.
“We’re getting you to Voyager.” Tom said.
Danag stood firm though. “I’m not going anywhere. I can still man my post.” Tom was about to order him to leave when he said. “There are people worse off than me who are still working. I’m not about to run to sickbay over a little headache.”
Tom saw the resolution etched in the younger man’s features. He knew that there was no way he would get Danag off this ship.
“Fine.” he said. “Hail Voyager and tell them to begin transporting the wounded out of here. I want an extra crew of engineer’s out here as well.”
“Yes, sir.” Danag replied.
“We’ll be in Engineering.” he told him and then left.
Danag looked to where Rune’s form had been. He hadn’t told him about Meylin or, for that matter, just how Sargon was taking it. So Tom entered the lion’s den unprepared for the perils that lay in wait.
The first group of wounded were transported to Voyager. Doc was caught off guard as he saw the injured mount up on the floor. Samantha had been recalled to Voyager and now helped the EMH begin sorting through the bodies.
“There’s only one group left,” Satira said.
Danag was on the other line of comm. “Alright, prepare to transport over to the station with them now.”
She was so tired she didn’t even reply. Even though she kept telling herself she was a Dezorisian, and Dezorisians could endure anything, fatigue still plagued her.
As the transporter began its familiar tingle, she prayed to the spirit that the doctor she was about to work with had some semblance of a mind to him. Her temper couldn’t handle teaching some simple-minded imbecile the key points of her patients’ anatomies.
The chaos to which B’Elanna and Tom entered was unimaginable. The half Klingon was caught off guard as they entered Engineering. The work area seemed more like a war zone than an engine room.
*I suppose it was a war zone* she told herself.
Paris could feel the tension in the room. Everyone seemed to be more afraid of their supervisor than the state the ship was in.
He turned his gaze to Sargon. The Parvanian was silently working at one of the consoles on one side of the room. All the other engineers were on the other.
Tom walked over to the man. “I hear you’re in need of some assistance.”
Sargon flew around at the sound of the voice behind him. “Landis?!”
Tom smiled and took a place at a nearby console. He linked himself to it immediately and began working. “I was in the neighborhood so I though I should drop by.”
Sargon regarded him solemnly. He said nothing.
Tom could feel the hatred dripping off of the Parvanian, however, he had no idea as to what was causing this.
B’Elanna walked over to the core. She began taking in the situation around her. “The core will destabilize in less than five minutes,” she said.
“Tell me something I don’t know.” Sargon said.
Paris shot him a look. B’Elanna just continued on. “We can’t shut the core down or eject it so we’ll have to do the next best thing.”
Tom turned to her. A questioning glance was on his face.
She smiled at his inquiry. “We blow it up.”
Satira found herself inside Deep Space Nine’s sickbay. The surroundings were impressive but she showed no interest in them. She quickly focused all her attention onto the patients around her. One of the station’s doctors was quickly at her side with a few of his own assistants as well.
“These are the ones in immediate danger; these have minor wounds yet still enough to pose a threat if not treated properly, and these are the ones suffering from head trauma.” Satira began to direct to the group. “Who’s the chief doctor around here?”
A man stepped forward. “I am. My name is Doctor Bashir. I suggest we...”
“Right now I don’t give a damn about any suggestions. You’re going to help me operate on these and you’ll do exactly as I say. Understood?” The Dezorisian loomed over the other doctor as she said her words. He raised an eyebrow but said nothing to contradict her. “Good, now help me get him on the table.”
Both Sargon and Paris stared at B’Elanna in bewilderment.
“What the Hell do you mean Blow It Up?!” asked the Parvanian. He wasn’t in the mood to listen to some half-breed idiot rave on in utter nonsense.
“What I mean is we blow it up,” she said calmly. “The particles inside the core are already destabilized. If we can’t stabilize them, then we let them finish out the process they’ve already started. Only we control when, where, and how they blow up.”
Tom’s eyes sparkled with a knowing glint, as he understood what she was talking about.
She went on. “We run a negative ion sweep through the core. It will attract all the destabilized particles to the center while the stabilized ones remain on the outside. We can’t eject the entire core, but all we have to do is lock onto a certain area within the core and beam the unstable ions into space.”
Sargon’s mouth hung open in awe as he listened to her plan. That just might work.
“I’ll begin issuing a negative ionic charge throughout the core.” Tom said.
After a few more minutes, the unstable particles were clustered together inside the core. Sargon rerouted all available power to the transporters and beamed the particles into space. Within seconds the core was stable once again.
B’Elanna beamed with satisfaction as she walked over to Paris. “One crisis under control. Now all you have to do is reroute power to the shielding. The hull integrity should remain constant long enough for Voyager to reach us.”
Sargon gave a short nod and walked away. B’Elanna looked at him with disdain. “Very appreciative, isn’t he?”
Tom watched the man walk away. He shook his head. “Something’s wrong. Look at the crew. Sargon has his moments, but not even he can make them this afraid.”
Danag interrupted Paris’s thoughts as his voice sounded over the comm badge. “Sir, the other ships have transported all of the injured to their sickbays. How’s the crisis down there?”
“Taken care of.” he said. His thoughts were still puzzling over Sargon’s attitude when a new puzzle entered his mind. “Danag, I’ve heard of just about all of the Jihaid’s senior staff being here except Meylin. Where is she?”
The younger man paused. “Sir, she... she died in an explosion during our trip through the rift.”
Paris was at a loss for words after that. He finally said, “That’s all Danag. Paris out.”
Tom watched as the Parvanian Engineer busied himself with his work. B’Elanna laid a hand on Paris’s shoulder. He turned to her. “Come on; let’s get things finished up around here. I’ll talk with Sargon later.”
Torres nodded silently. The rest of the work was done in a tense silence, which only seemed to punctuate the death, which loomed over all of their heads.
Janeway sat on the bridge of Voyager. She silently contemplated their options. The Empire now had access to the Alpha Quadrant. They had no choice but to go to war or be destroyed. She shook her head. It was best not to think about t
hings such as that while coordinating a rescue mission. Another thought entered her mind. She knew that Tom was planning on returning to the Delta Quadrant, but now with this other Resistance ship in the area and the recent attack by Takma, his departure seemed even more certain.
Doc’s voice came over the comm. “Captain, I’m proud to say that all Resistance personnel are recovering now and should be back on their feet within a few days.”
She smiled. “That’s the first good news I’ve heard all day.”
Chakotay leaned closer to her. As if reading her thoughts, he put a strong hand on hers. She looked up into his eyes and smiled.
The day was drawing itself to a close. The Resistance vessel had been successfully rescued and was now docked with DS9 for repairs. With a few miracles, they could hope for a complete repair by the next few days.
Now Paris was walking down to sickbay. He still had to talk with Sargon, but right now he needed to see Satira and one of her patients.
As he walked through the doors, he was greeted with her usual fastidious manner. She seemed to think that the present doctors were not trained well enough to handle the situation; therefore, she ordered them around even more. No one seemed to speak up against the Dezorisian.
Tom smiled as he entered. Satira immediately looked up. She had been in such a hurry to treat her patients that she had not even heard the news that Voyager was back.
He gave her a nod. “Hello Satira.”
A smile spread across her face and she wrapped her arms around him. “By the Spirit, Rune, I never thought I would see you again.”
“Hey, I’m a little harder to get rid of than that.”
“I should say you are.” She looked around. “I see you have found your clan.”
“Yes, it seems I have.” He walked over to one of the biobeds. An older man lay propped up on the pillows. “Would you mind if we speak alone?”
Satira gave a nod and stepped back. Tom walked closer to the biobed. “Consul,” he said in greeting.
The older man smiled. “I’m too tired to deal with formalities now. Just keep it as Maris.”
“Alright, Consul.” Paris said.
Maris laughed. “Well, Rune, it seems we’ve run into one another once again. I see you’ve found your home.”
Tom looked around. “Yes, I suppose I have, but that doesn’t mean I have to stay here.”
The consul looked up. “You wish to stay with the Resistance?”
“Where else?”
Maris laughed again. “I suppose no one could ever accuse Rune Landis of slacking off.” he paused for a while. “The Empire has gotten stronger since Takma assumed Pretor.”
Tom turned his gaze to the ground. “I saw that first hand.” At Maris’s puzzled glance, he outlined the past day.
The consul was silent as he listened. He knew that Takma was more than capable of what Rune had described. He was about to comment on the matter when another pair entered sickbay. B’Elanna and Sargon walked over towards the pair.
“Here are the engineering reports.” Sargon said. His voice was much colder than Tom had remembered. Paris made it a point to talk with him soon. He took the reports and began to look over them.
B’Elanna stepped closer to Tom. “I need to go back to Voyager.” she told him.
He nodded. “I’ll be back soon.”
As he walked her to the door, the others watched them carefully.
He took her hand in his out of habit and gave her a quick kiss. Those on Voyager were used to such behaviors, but Rune’s former crew were caught off guard.
Paris walked back over to the consul. Sargon looked at his former captain with a mixture of shock and disgust. He quickly walked away. Satira busied herself with her work.
“I see you’ve found much more than just a home.” Maris told him.
Tom smiled. “I don’t remember all of my past, but I do remember her. I still love Aria but...”
“It’s not the same.” Maris finished.
Tom nodded. “Exactly.”
The consul seemed to be caught in thought for a few moments. “All of the other consuls and most of the high ranking
Resistance officials have been killed.” Tom was silent as the older man continued. “There are few people left to lead. Hell, there are few people at all.” He paused once again. “It was made apparent to me today that if, no when, I die, there will be no one left to take my place. I’m naming you, Rune, as my successor.”
Paris was silent as he let the consul’s news sink in. “Sir, you still have many years ahead of you.”
“It pays to be prepared, Rune. You know that. I need to make sure that there is someone to take over my responsibilities when I’m gone. You’re the only one I can completely trust. I need an answer.”
Tom understood the logic in the man’s words. “I’d be honored, sir.”
The consul seemed a bit relieved by this. He settled back down into his bed. Tomorrow they would solve the rest of their problems, but today, one had already been resolved.
Sargon was fuming as he walked down the corridors. He was mad at Maris. He was mad at the Empire. He was even mad at Landis. After all, what right did Rune have of forgetting everything he and Aria had shared? Aria had been dead only a little over a month and Landis had already taken to another woman.
Sargon would never do that. Meylin had been the only woman he had or would ever love. He would never desecrate her memory as Landis had Aria.
No, he would be faithful to Meylin for the rest of his life. And that life would not be very much longer if he implemented the plan he had hatched. The Empire would pay for what they had done. He swore to it.
The next morning, both Starfleet and Resistance members met together on DS9. A conference was being held among their elite officers. Sisko, Picard, Janeway, Admiral Paris, Maris, and Landis all met together to discuss their options.
“The Empire has access to your quadrant now. The only option you have is to go to war.” Maris told them. “You have resources and technology here that Takma will want to exploit. If you don’t declare war now, she’ll put your people in the same concentration camps as ours.”
Sisko shook his head. “We are already engaged in one war. We cannot plan an attack on another race that is not even in our quadrant yet. I suggest we plan a defensive against them similar to the one we now have against the Borg.”
The Admiral had to agree. “We don’t have the resources to stretch between two wars. There is no way we can go to war with them.”
Maris was getting fed up with this. “You don’t seem to understand. The Empire won’t rest until they have taken over this quadrant along with all the others. It’s just the way they are.”
“They were knocked off course when they came here. You said it yourself. We have no way of knowing that they will come here again.” Picard said.
“Just because they were knocked off course is no reason to think that they won’t attack again.” Janeway said. “I realize that we can’t engage in another war at this point, but we have to do something.”
Paris had been silent the entire time. He listened as those around him mounted arguments as to why they must or couldn’t go to war. As the debating became even more heated, Tom finally spoke up. “Maris is right,” he said calmly. “We don’t have any choice in the matter. We have to launch an attack on the Empire.”
The Admiral turned to him. “We don’t have the resources to spend on such a venture. Do you...”
“Then you’ll have to find the resources.” Tom interrupted. He got up and walked over to the viewscreen. After linking himself to the panel, he downloaded the data he had run across on the Imperial ship. After a few seconds, an image of a Borg cube appeared on screen.
“Takma’s original course would have taken her ship directly into Borg Space.” Tom explained.
Maris stepped forward. “What was she going there for?”
Tom brought up the schematics for an advanced cloaking system. “She’s found a
way to travel through Borg space undetected. This design was originally used by the Hansens, but I believe Voyager used it to enter Borg Space as well.” Janeway nodded as he said this and he continued. “Takma stole this design from Voyager. She thinks that she’ll be able to enter Borg Space and take over the collective with this shielding.”
Picard looked at Paris incredulously. “That’s suicide. If she goes in there, she’ll be assimilated.”
Tom nodded. “She doesn’t have very good odds, but it could be done. From some of the data that was taken from the alien station, she was able to find a weak spot in the Borg’s defenses. I doubt that she will be able to reach her goal, but if her ship gets assimilated, then the Borg will have all the research and technology that the Empire has stolen from other species. Including the information on that station.”
Janeway looked up. She knew how valuable that information was, but the others around the table didn’t.
“What station? What kind of information?” asked the Admiral.
“That station was far more advanced than even the Borg. The Empire managed to steal research on advanced weapons and propulsion systems as well as a countless amount of other information.” Tom explained.
“Just how advanced are you talking about?” asked Sisko. “The Borg might already possess this knowledge.”
“Well, for example, that’s where I was assimilated.”
Everyone around the room was silent.
“We don’t have any choice.” Tom continued. “We have to plan an attack.”
The silence still claimed the room. Finally, Admiral Paris spoke up. “I don’t see that we have any choice in the matter either. We have to stop Takma before she is able to implement her plan. Are there any objections?”
Everyone around the table looked to one another. No one, however, spoke up.
“It’s settled then,” the Admiral concluded. “We will inform Starfleet of the situation and prepare for the worst.”
Tom heard a small voice in the back of his mind speak up. Aria had known of these events all along. Deep in the recesses of
