He led the away team through the administrative section and down a long corridor to the maximum security facility. Guards stationed along the way lowered force fields for them to pass. Finally they stood before Tevren’s cell, a room with the fourth wall an energy shield that blocked it from the corridor but allowed full view of the cell’s interior.
Tevren stood in the middle of the room, his hands clasped in front of him, a half-smile playing on his thin lips. In a shapeless prison coverall whose yellow tint made his skin sallow, he looked shrunken and harmless, like a scholarly tutor or an overworked bookkeeper who rarely saw daylight. Deanna was struck anew at how someone so sadistic could appear so benign and unthreatening. His dark eyes, the dreadful void Deanna recalled so well, locked on her.
“Counselor Troi,” he said softly. “You’re as lovely as ever. To what do I owe this honor?” Except for his thinning hair and the deep lines around his eyes and lips, Tevren had changed little.
“We’re getting you out of here,” Deanna said.
“How delightful. It’s been some time since I’ve seen the sun. May I ask why?”
Deanna looked at Vaughn, who shook his head. Deanna turned back to Tevren. “I’ll explain later. For now, I need you to trust me.”
Tevren’s attention was on Vaughn and the others. “I’m guessing you’re with Starfleet,” he said with some amusement. “Now, why would Starfleet be interested in me?”
Vaughn’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
Tevren chuckled, delighted. His eyes went back to Troi. “You look haggard, Deanna, and it’s more than just the years, I suspect. War going badly, is it? Things unpleasant back home? Coming here when the place is infested with Jem’Hadar is quite a feat. Some might even call it an act of desperation.”
“Tevren, we don’t have time—”
“Make time,” Tevren suggested. “This is all quite a fuss over someone no one ever wanted to see again. Unless, of course, I have something you want? That’s it, isn’t it?” And with that, his eyes gleamed. “They need me back home. They want to know what I know.”
“That’s right,” Vaughn said.
Tevren’s eyes refocused over Deanna’s shoulder. “And you, Director, you agreed to this?”
Lanolan said nothing.
Tevren turned back to Vaughn. “What if I say no?”
“Then stay here and rot.” Vaughn turned and started back up the corridor. The others followed on his heels.
“Wait!”
At Tevren’s sharp call, his visitors stopped and returned.
“We don’t have time for games, Tevren,” Vaughn stated simply. “Are you coming or not?”
“I’m coming,” Tevren said without hesitation.
“Director,” Deanna said, never taking her eyes off Tevren. “Please lower the force field.”
Lanolan did as bid and the field winked off. Tevren stepped forward to join them. At the same time, Deanna picked up a sense of terrible purpose emanating from Lanolan. When she glanced at the director, he had turned his phaser on Tevren.
“I’m sorry, Deanna,” her mentor said. “I can’t let you do this. I’ll kill him myself first.”
Before anyone could speak, Lanolan fired.
Chapter Eleven
“GOTCHA,” O’BRIEN MUTTERED. Crouching low behind the main console in the security office on Sentok Nor, the chief realized his efforts had borne fruit. Sifting through the decryption algorithms given him by Garak, the Cardassian exile living aboard DS9, he’d succeeded in hacking into the station mainframe undetected and now had access to a number of key systems, including autodestruct.
La Forge and his group had left to go below, their task to help override all three main processing computers located between Levels 14 and 21, deep within the station’s mid-core assembly. Commander Riker had then left with the remaining members of the security detail when his tricorder showed a concentration of Betazoid bio-signatures emanating from the docking ring, leaving O’Brien alone but relatively safe in the security office, with instructions to initiate the autodestruct as soon as he was able.
After years of studying the thinking that had gone into the design and construction of Deep Space 9, and working constantly to reconcile the rampant incompatabilities between Cardassian and Federation technology, the irony of exploiting Deep Space 9’s very weaknesses in order to use them against Sentok Nor wasn’t lost on O’Brien. In fact, he was already making mental notes to correct the vulnerabilities when he returned home, to prevent anyone else from ever succeeding at what he was attempting.
He’d love to see the looks on his enemies’ faces after he activated the station’s autodestruct system. They’d quickly realize their manual backup had been destroyed, so they couldn’t turn off the countdown.
Another part of O’Brien, however, couldn’t help regretting that all this technology and the massive structure that reminded him so much of home had to be destroyed. If Federation forces hadn’t already been pushed to the limit, Sentok Nor would have been a treasure worth keeping. Unfortunately, without sufficient military backup to overwhelm the Dominion forces in the system, destroying Sentok Nor outright was the only way to chase them off, and thereby weaken the Dominion’s ability to hold the system.
He frowned at an unusually high power drain flowing to the cargo bays. Some of it was even being pulled from defense, and it was going straight toward the area Commander Riker had gone to investigate. What were they doing to pull that kind of power? Building weapons? Creating more Jem’Hadar?
“La Forge to O’Brien.”
O’Brien tapped his combadge, which had been altered to constantly change frequencies so the Cardassians couldn’t pinpoint their locations. “Go ahead.”
“We’re on site.” La Forge and his team had reached the computer core. “The mainframe’s physical access port is destroyed. There’s no way to manually stop the self-destruct countdown once we start it.”
“Stand by.” O’Brien made several minor adjustments and corrected for fluctuations. “Ready now.”
“Initiate autodestruct,” La Forge ordered.
La Forge and his team simultaneously disengaged all three computers that operated every system in the station. O’Brien entered the autodestruct sequence the Cardassians already had in place.
“O’Brien, report,” Commander Riker ordered over the combadge.
“Autodestruct sequence initiated, Commander,” O’Brien announced. “The thermal energy released by overloading the fusion reactors will be comparable to seven hundred eighty standard photon torpedoes.”
“Can you stop it?”
At the anxiety in the commander’s voice, a wave of apprehension burned through O’Brien like acid. The last time he’d experienced that feeling was when he’d evacuated Deep Space 9 before the Cardassians invaded. The Federation had eventually retaken the station, but he had never forgotten how difficult leaving had been. Commander Riker’s question made him wonder if he’d make it back to his home in the Bajoran system. He’d sabotaged Sentok Nor’s computers so effectively the Dominion couldn’t stop the explosion.
And neither could O’Brien.
“Not all the power in the universe can shut this baby down now, Commander. I suggest we contact the Enterprise and beam out of here.”
“How long until detonation?”
“Fifteen minutes, forty-eight seconds.”
“We can’t leave yet.”
O’Brien’s mouth went dry. “Why not?”
“Meet me in cargo bay three and I’ll show you.”
In the corridor of the Daronan prison, everything happened at once.
Director Lanolan raised his phaser to fire. Tevren, aware that he was Lanolan’s target, cried out. Suddenly Vaughn lunged between the director and the prisoner, shielding Tevren with his own body.
Immediately and instinctively, Deanna employed the training Vaughn had so recently drilled into her. With a powerful body block, she shoved the director off his feet and, at
the same time, knocked his arm upward, ruining his aim as his phaser fired. When he struggled against her and attempted to fire again, she cold-cocked him with a closed fist and confiscated his weapon.
Shaken and winded more from surprise than physical exertion, Deanna assessed the situation. Lanolan lay barely conscious at her feet. She regretted having struck her old friend and mentor, but he’d given her no choice. Tevren huddled in the far corner of his cell, apparently fearing someone else would try to kill him. Data and Beverly knelt on the corridor floor beside Vaughn, who lay ominously still with a smoking hole in his coat—one that went straight through to the other side. Dismayed, Deanna saw that Vaughn’s right shoulder had been hit by phaser fire when he lunged to protect Tevren. Without her quick reaction diverting Lanolan’s aim, Vaughn might have been killed.
Beverly pulled open Vaughn’s coat to get a better look at the wound, then retrieved her medical kit from the folds of her own coat.
Scowling against the pain, Vaughn looked up at Troi. “Nice work, Commander. I knew you’d come through when the chips were down.”
“Quiet,” Beverly snapped.
Data shifted slightly, allowing Deanna to view for the first time the full extent of Vaughn’s injury. All the skin and part of the muscle had been burned from the commander’s right shoulder and upper arm by the phaser burst. She found herself wondering how much worse it might have been without the beam-resistant S.O.B. uniform.
“You’re in way too much pain,” the doctor told him after checking her tricorder. “I’ll have to sedate you.”
Vaughn raised his good arm and blocked her hypospray. “Wait.” He turned to Deanna. “I’m turning command over to you.”
Deanna stared. “You can’t be serious. Data’s the logical—”
“You know the prison and the planet,” Vaughn said through his teeth, cutting her off. “And you’re the best judge of how to handle Tevren. Leave me. I’ll only slow you down. Now get out of here.”
He dropped his hand, and then Beverly administered the hypo. The doctor, her face grim, looked to Deanna. “His wounds are life-threatening. The phaser blast cauterized the wound, so he’s in no danger of blood loss, but the beam was set on the highest setting. The damage to his central nervous system is considerable—there’s no way I can treat it with a field medkit. He’ll die if we leave him.”
“I have no intention of leaving him,” Deanna said. “He risked his life to save Tevren—no, to save Betazed. I won’t abandon him to the Jem’Hadar.”
“I can carry him,” Data offered, “without impeding our progress.”
“What about me?” Tevren had moved out of his corner into the hallway, but his hands shook from his close call with death. “You’re still taking me with you, aren’t you?”
“Oh, you’re coming all right.” Deanna threw off her coat and unstrapped her phaser rifle, taking off the safety and focusing her anger on the monster whose life Vaughn had saved. “And if you make one peep or slow us down a fraction of a second, I promise you, I’ll succeed where Lanolan failed.”
While Beverly applied a field dressing to Vaughn’s shoulder, Deanna ordered Data to place the director on Tevren’s bunk. “Search his pockets. He always carries a key that controls the corridor force fields.”
After he and Beverly had shed their coats, Data retrieved the key, moved into the corridor, and activated the force field, trapping Lanolan in Tevren’s cell. He handed the key to Deanna and hoisted the now-sedated Vaughn over his shoulder. Beverly gathered her medical equipment, slung the kit across her back, then readied her own rifle.
Sprinting down the corridor in front of her team, Deanna deactivated the first force field, waved the group out of the maximum security lockup, then reset the shield.
“What are you doing?” Tevren asked nervously.
“One dangerous prisoner is all I’m prepared to loose on Darona today,” Deanna told him.
The group raced down the corridor toward the administration building, but when they stopped at the next force field, a prison guard on the other side caught sight of them. Worse, he recognized Tevren. Without hesitation, the man hit a panel on the nearest wall, and alarm klaxons blared throughout the facility.
Deanna hesitated. The guards were Betazoids, not the enemy, and just doing their very necessary and dangerous jobs, and she hated having to fight them. She didn’t have time, however, for lengthy explanations or philosophical arguments. However much she might regret her actions, she knew what had to be done.
She dropped the force field and turned to Data and Beverly. “Set phasers on stun. Take down every guard you see. We have to get out of here before the alarm attracts the Jem’Hadar. Tevren, stay close to me unless you want to go hand-to-hand with one of the guards.”
With a shiver, Tevren moved closer, and Deanna suppressed her disgust. For all his murders, the man was a coward.
Beverly raised her phaser and stunned the guard who had sounded the alarm. Two more burst from a nearby doorway, and Data, securing Vaughn with his right hand, retrieved the rifle from behind his back with the left and fired. Both guards dropped.
Once her team had entered the corridor leading to the administration building, Deanna reset the force field. “One more barrier, then the main gate, and we’ll be out of this place.”
The away team approached the force field that blocked the pathway connecting the administration building to the gate. Behind the shimmer of the energy shield, five Betazoid guards armed with pikes, knives, and clubs jammed the passageway. The lead guard lowered the force field, and his group charged.
Tevren shrieked and scurried back the way they’d come, only to find his escape obstructed by a force field. Beverly, Data, and Deanna simultaneously discharged their phasers, and three guards fell. Two, however, kept coming. Data took out one with another shot, but the last guard attacked Deanna with a flying leap and shoved her to the ground.
His momentum sent them both rolling, with his hands squeezing her throat. Deanna boxed his ears. The guard screamed with pain and loosened his grip. She followed with a knee that glanced harmlessly off his thigh. He wrapped his hands in her hair, but before he could tighten his grip, she slammed her forehead into the bridge of his nose and knocked him unconscious.
Breathless, she staggered to her feet. Over the last four days she’d practiced these moves with Vaughn, but they had always been just that—practice. This time the struggle had been life and death. She’d sensed the killing instinct in the guard’s attack, and her newly-honed skills and instincts had saved her.
“Sorry,” Beverly said, “but he was too close to you for me to risk a shot.”
Deanna swiped the electronic key through the force field release. “Head for the front gate, and hurry. Those alarms are still screaming. They’re bound to get the Jem’Hadar’s attention.”
“Shall I attempt to shut them down?” Data asked.
“No time.” Deanna glanced around, located Tevren, shoved him ahead of her, and took off at a dead run. Beside her, carrying Vaughn, Data increased his speed with ease. Deanna raced through the director’s prison garden. Tevren pumped his short legs like pistons in an effort to keep up with her.
Deanna halted before the main gate. Apparently its guards had been among the attackers in the administration building, because no one was on watch at the entry portal.
“What’s that?” Beverly pointed down the hill to a gray blur on the road that ran in front of Lanolan’s house.
“Jem’Hadar,” Data said. “An entire patrol.”
Deanna inserted the electronic key into the slot by the gate, but the force field that blocked their exit from the prison didn’t waver.
“Let me try,” Data suggested.
Deanna handed him the key. He shifted the still-unconscious Vaughn to a more comfortable position across his shoulders, and with lightning-quick movements of his agile fingers attempted to drop the field.
Nothing happened.
Data tried again, then sho
ok his head. “The force field mechanism on the main gate must have a fail-safe. We require either an additional key or a specialized code to release the shield.”
“They’ve upgraded since I was here,” Deanna said. “Then only one key was needed at this gate.” She glanced down the hill where the Jem’Hadar were drawing closer. She hadn’t wanted the command Vaughn had thrust upon her, but the responsibility for her crewmates and their mission was now hers.
Piece of cake, she imagined Will saying with his gift for understatement and an ironic grin. All that stands in your way is a maximum-security force field and a fast-approaching patrol of Jem’Hadar.
In the operations center on Sentok Nor, Gul Lemec snarled at his science officer. “Raise the shields before more of them transport over.”
“There’s a malfunction, sir,” his officer replied. “We’re working on correcting it.”
“Damned shoddy Betazoid work.” The gul glared at Luaran. “I told you the Enterprise’s offer to surrender was a ruse.”
Moset peered over the console, his dark eyes beaming with pleasure at the sight of the freighter. The doctor’s precious research might yet be his downfall, one Lemec could take advantage of by sending a report to Central Command. Such treasonous behavior as lowering the shields during battle conditions and allowing the enemy aboard Sentok Nor could not be permitted to go unpunished.
Lemec dispatched his troops to search for the intruders. One look at the sensors indicated the enemy would be difficult to find, especially if they’d hidden in the access tunnels where sensors didn’t function well. “If Moset hadn’t dropped our shields, we wouldn’t have enemies among us now.”
Moset viewed the outer ring, his face smug. “If I hadn’t dropped the shields, I wouldn’t be able to carry on my experiments. The Betazoids on that freighter were culled from the general population specifically to suit my requirements.”
The Battle of Betazed Page 13
