Part 10
Tuvok's eyebrows raised ever so slightly as Captain Janeway and a mud encrusted Commander Chakotay bounded out of the turbolift and onto the bridge. He respectfully vacated the captain's chair, and took up his own station at Tactical Systems. "Tuvok, report." "An alien vessel is maintaining a parallel course, Captain. Subspace communications are off line so it is impossible to determine if they have attempted to contact us. Sensors are at 62% and fluctuating. Warp engines are off line, but Mr. Hogan hopes to have them back on line in a matter of minutes. The transporter is functional, and we do have impulse power." "Weapons?" "Captain," Tuvok intoned. "Weapons are operational, but I cannot recommend the use of either the phaser banks or the photon torpedoes. I do not know if we could adequately control them." "Then let's just hope these beings are friendly. Can we hail them?" "We will need to wait for a window of opportunity, Captain." "Maintain yellow alert. Can we get a visual?" "Affirmative." "On screen." The yellow alert klaxon stopped B'Elanna in her tracks. She whirled around, abandoning hope of a shower, and tore into a clean uniform. She ruthlessly yanked a brush through her hair, removing most of the drying mud, and tossed it over her shoulder. The doors slid shut behind her before it even landed on her bed. Tom Paris, who had also ignored the commander's advice to report to sickbay, had been a little faster than the limping B'Elanna. With his spare uniform in a muddy heap at this feet, and his other one who-knew- where, he pulled on civilian clothes and headed toward the bridge. Harry, embarrassed at his sudden promotion to Lieutenant by proxy, flew out of the captain's quarter's at warp speed and charged into the former occupant of the uniform. "Well, good evening, SIR," smirked Paris. "My, you look good in red." Harry was in no mood for it. "Shut up, Paris. I've had a long night." "A long night in the captain's quarter's? No, don't tell me, I don't even want to know." "Tom, shut up, or so help me I'll--" "You'll what?" Tom retorted. "Let me guess. You'll--" He broke off as the turbolift doors whooshed open. Tom's eyes shifted first, as they often did, to the viewscreen. A sudden terrible memory flitted into his mind, but disappeared just as quickly. Whoever they were, Tom was certain these were ruthless enemies. Harry raced to his station, but Tom stood at the top of the bridge, staring at the vessel, transfixed. "Mr. Kim, have the readings of the unknown vessel changed?" "Well, right now it's reading as a cross between a Klingon freighter and a Vulcan medical ship. Looking at the screen, it doesn't look like either. I'm running diagnostics on the systems now." "Can we at least tell if their weapons are powered up?" demanded Chakotay. "The systems indicate negative at the moment, sir," replied Harry. "Mr. Tuvok," the captain turned to her tactical officer, "stay on yellow alert and keep an eye on our own weapon systems." B'Elanna marched into the nearest turbolift. "Engineering" she practically growled while the doors shut. What was happening to her lately? *In the middle of a crisis and I'm playing games with Tom on the holodeck! He's the one who goaded me into going there in the first place. He'll pay for this,* she thought bitterly. After today, Chakotay would definitely corner her for one of his 'talks'. *I'll get him back for this,* she thought, *then I'll stay as far from him as possible on a ship this size.* Even as she said it to herself, she knew that it would be easier said than done. It was absolute chaos when she walked into Engineering. People were running into each other, everyone was shouting to be heard over the others. Lieutenant Browning was the first to see her walk in. "Sir, are we glad to see you." His smile looked too relieved and his comment was made too loud. B'Elanna knew she would be here for hours. Upon hearing Lieutenant Browning's comment, everyone stopped what he or she was doing and turned to her. *Oh well,* she thought, *it's not as if I had anything else to do.* She began barking out orders while she moved to her console and demanded status reports from everyone around her. Chaos broke out again almost immediately, but at least it was the kind of chaos she could command. "Mr. Paris," said Janeway evenly, "you are out of uniform." "Yes, Captain," said Tom, still staring at the viewscreen. "I had to..." His voice trailed off as everyone on the bridge glanced around at him curiously. "That ship. Those creatures," he said softly. "Captain, I don't know how I know, but I can tell you, they mean to kill us all and take the ship!" Janeway rose from her seat and her eyes narrowed. "You'll have to do better than that, Lieutenant. We cannot act aggressively toward an unknown ship. You know that." Tom looked extremely uncomfortable. "I've seen them before, Captain. I know I have. We need to power up our weapons and raise the shields! We need to get OUT of here!" Janeway gave Tom a long, steady look, which he returned without wavering. Janeway started crisply, "Mr. Tuvok, raise the--" The concussion from the sudden burst of phaser fire knocked everyone on the bridge out of his seat. Janeway fell to her knees; Tom did a flip over the bridge rail, whacking his head on Chakotay's data station. Kim toppled over backwards into the imaging array, cracking his skull as well. Hamilton crashed into the conn, bounced off into the floor, and remained there stunned. Tom stumbled forward into the pilot's position. Chakotay scrambled to his feet holding a useless right arm. "Red alert!" he barked. "Tuvok, raise the shields!" "Captain," reported Tuvok, hands flying over the tactical board, oblivious to the green blood oozing from a gash above his eye, "that volley nearly destroyed our main weapons array. Shields are now in place but falling," --Voyager rocked as another volley hit the ship-- "to 64%." "Mr. Paris, get us out of here!" "Warp engines are still off line, Captain. Impulse engines at 41%. Initiating evasive maneuver Lambda 3." "Reports of injuries coming in," exclaimed Kim. "Captain! They've just launched a photon torpedo!" Janeway was fast with her comm badge. "All hands, brace for impact!" What had been chaos before in Engineering was now bedlam. Torres was jumping toward the console adjacent to the warp core when the torpedo struck, destroying the remaining shields. She collided with Lieutenant Browning, and they both went down in a tangle. "B'Elanna!" came the captain's voice, "we need warp power!" "I'm working on it, Captain. Browning, get off me! Just give me five minutes!" "Lieutenant, we don't have shields! We don't have weapons! We don't HAVE five minutes!" Back on the bridge, Chakotay snapped at Harry, "Ensign, hail that vessel. I don't plan to get blown out of space today!" "No response, sir. But I've got sensors back on line. Their shields are down. They are launching a shuttle craft. Several life forms aboard." "Oh, they won't destroy us," muttered Tom. "They want the ship. Next they'll try to board us and kill us." "Well, I don't plan to get executed in a muddy uniform," retorted Chakotay. "Think people!" commanded Janeway. "We need options!" Tom, facing away from Chakotay, rolled his eyes. *Like it matters what you look like when you die.* Then he whirled around. "Captain," he said, "we have transporter power. We have sensors; we could zero in on their bridge and their shuttle control consoles." He paused, and a slightly evil smile creased his face. "And we have a holodeck full of mud. It...well, it has to go somewhere." Janeway smacked her comm badge. "Janeway to Torres. Lieutenant, I think we just found your five minutes." While not exactly standard procedure, the suggestion proved satisfyingly effective. Immediately after the transporter room performed "the dirty work"-- Paris' label, acknowledged by groans and muffled snickers from everyone on the bridge -- the enemy ship's shots first began to go wildly astray, then ceased entirely, and Tuvok reported that he was getting what he referred to as "greatly diminished and extremely erratic energy readings" from it. "It is possible, Captain," he added, "that the plasma field also created weaknesses within their systems, the effects of which have now been exacerbated by Mr. Paris'...strategy." "Nice to know it's not just us," Chakotay commented dryly, and Janeway nodded silent agreement. Still, the ship was doing better than its shuttlecraft -- the mud had evidently caused a severe malfunction in its piloting controls, and it was now spinning end over end in space, apparently helpless to maneuver. The resulting display was more than a little funny, and most of the bridge crew were grinning (except, of course, for Tuvok). Paris in particular looked almost vindictively pleased, and Janeway reminded herself to ask him later about his "memories" of these people. Just then B'Elanna voice came ove
r the comm link. "Captain, we have warp drive." "Mr. Paris, warp six." He didn't even bother to acknowledge, just tapped out the commands, and the speed and smoothness of his movements convinced her that whatever other worries she might have about him, there was nothing wrong with his performance. The stars on the viewscreen began to streak past, and Janeway sat back and breathed a well-concealed sigh of relief. Things were finally going right-- --until about thirty seconds later, when the lights went down and the bridge shook with a jarring *thump* -- one much less violent than the last impact, fortunately. The lights came back on, revealing a slightly shaken bridge crew and normal space outside the ship. "We've stopped," Paris said unnecessarily. "Engineering to Bridge," came B'Elanna's voice. "Warp drive is down -- again." "But we've left the alien ship behind, Captain," Ensign Kim added. "I'm no longer detecting them on scanners. And we're completely out of the plasma field." "That, Mr. Kim, is the best news I've heard all day. All right, everyone--" the captain stood -- "it's time to start cleaning up."
Cracks 02 Clear as Mud Page 6
