Finally, Lyssa found her beacon’s switch, though she almost dropped her phaser in the process. Her beam of light momentarily transected with Janeway’s, then moved farther to the left, illuminating a face that Lyssa’s worst nightmares couldn’t have coughed up on their best day.
A sharp intake of breath from Janeway alerted Lyssa to the fact that the admiral might be paralyzed with fright. It certainly seemed like a viable option.
The creature, or at least what she could see of it, was covered in grayish white fur streaked with what Lyssa could only assume was blood. The shape of its massive face was reminiscent of a polar bear’s, but where that animal had always had a benign and regal appearance to Lyssa, this creature’s gaping maw was filled with rows of jagged teeth, and its fierce orange eyes were tainted with feral desperation. Around its neck was a heavy iron chain. Lyssa followed the chain and found its end embedded in the wall of the cliff. The leash was clearly meant to limit the creature’s movement.
The creature let out a deafening roar that should have brought the cavern down on top of them.
Without further thought, Lyssa thumbed her phaser to maximum stun, took two quick steps to place herself in front of Janeway, and fired.
Her beam struck the creature’s right shoulder, and Lyssa watched in horror as the energy discharge was dispersed over the animal’s fur, doing no damage whatsoever. Then she understood: the creature’s oily coating, undoubtedly applied by its keepers, somehow acted as a scattering field diffusing her phaser fire.
The next ear-splitting roar first caused Lyssa to take an immediate step back, even as she thought she heard Janeway shouting for her to hold fire. Then, the creature fixed her solidly with a cockeyed grin and shook its head rapidly. Lyssa realized with growing alarm that she had unintentionally just become the most interesting thing in the room.
Suddenly, she felt the wind knocked out of her as something very large and sharp came swiping into her midsection from the right. The next thing she knew, the foulest stench she’d ever smelled was upon her, as she found herself staring at nothing but crusted, yellow teeth.
Hold your fire!” Janeway commanded as she hurried Lieutenant Maplethorpe back toward the tunnel. The others had just emerged and were quickly moving toward the right of the cavern, as far from the terrifying noise as the space would allow.
Janeway’s first instinct had been to rush to Campbell and try to pull her clear of the creature’s range of motion, but the razor-tipped claw that had felled her, then dragged her to the mouth of the creature, had made that choice impossible. Before Janeway could move, the creature had ripped Campbell’s head from her body. The several crunches that followed suggested that Lyssa’s misery was over, while simultaneously causing Janeway’s gorge to rise.
Once the creature seemed satisfied that it had dealt with the threat, it roared again and loped forward, but was quickly straining against its leash. The rest of the team had at least ten meters of space in which to maneuver, but the only real option left to them was to retreat the way they had come.
As long as that chain holds, Janeway thought grimly.
“What the hell is that?” Waters whispered frantically.
“A targot,” Seven replied calmly.
“Geez, Seven, I didn’t really want to know,” Waters said.
“It is a bearlike predator, native to—” Seven began.
“We’ll put it in the report, Seven,” Janeway hissed to silence her.
The targot continued to eye them hungrily.
“So, back the way we came then?” Maplethorpe urged.
“Not yet,” Janeway said. “Seven, focus your light just past the creature’s head.”
Seven did as she was told and quickly illuminated what Janeway was sure she’d already seen: another tunnel leading farther into the mountain.
The only way to get there was to somehow get past the targot.
Janeway knew they only had a few minutes at the most to make a decision. She considered the notion that their four remaining phasers might succeed where Lyssa’s solitary one had failed, but it didn’t seem likely. Clearly the qawHaq’hoch had tools up their sleeves that were completely unknown to Federation science.
While it was possible that there were several other entrances to the cavern, given the fact that one of Hal’korin’s bat’leths had opened the door, it seemed likely that this was meant to be the road to the sanctuary. This also meant that there had to be a way to get past the targot.
But how?
Perhaps the beast had been trained to recognize members of the order.
Or maybe something simpler.
If brute force wasn’t going to get the job done, what were the other options?
An idea flickered briefly into Janeway’s mind, courtesy of a Doberman pinscher who had once taken a liking to Molly, her Irish setter.
As the only other choice was retreat, and Janeway hadn’t come this far to be defeated by fear, she turned to the others.
“I’m going to try something. If it doesn’t work out, you’re to return to Voyager immediately,” she said quickly.
“What are you going to try?” Seven asked.
“What do you mean ‘work out’?” Waters demanded frantically.
The admiral faced both of them with her sternest gaze. They both clearly recognized from her expression that she was impervious to argument, and nodded without further questions.
Janeway then turned and squared her shoulders. She took a few halting steps into the darkness toward the targot.
Nice bear, she thought grimly.
The creature rocked its head in her direction. The cavern was now faintly illuminated by the others’ wrist beacons, but there wasn’t enough direct light on the animal’s face for Janeway to get a sense of its intentions.
She stepped forward again, and the beast raised itself up and lumbered toward her.
Well aware that this might be the worst choice she’d made in a long list of questionable calls over her lifetime, Janeway took another step forward and extended her right hand, palm up. From this distance the beast could easily take off her arm, probably up to the shoulder.
The creature emitted a quick huff of air and growled menacingly.
Janeway stood her ground, her heart pounding so hard it felt like it was looking for a way out of her chest, whether the rest of her body intended to come along or not.
A heavy, wet, noxious tongue landed on Janeway’s palm. Grimacing, she forced herself to remain still.
Once the creature had had a good taste of her sweat, it lost interest in Janeway and retreated back to its corner. It left just enough space for her to move past it toward the far tunnel, which she could clearly see sloped downward.
When she was several meters down the tunnel, Janeway turned back to see the wide-eyed faces of the away team. She nodded, encouragingly, and Seven was the next to step up, mimicking Janeway’s movements precisely.
Waters and Maplethorpe were harder to sell, but to their credit, followed Janeway’s lead and a few moments later, all four were moving cautiously down the tunnel.
“That was a foolhardy choice, Admiral,” Seven admonished her softly.
“Are you arguing with the results?” Janeway asked.
“No,” she said, “though I don’t understand why the creature allowed us to pass.”
“We need to get you a pet, Seven,” Janeway replied.
“Admiral?”
“If the qawHaq’hoch have to use this entrance…There had to be a way past the creature that didn’t include killing it, much as I would have liked to for Lyssa’s sake,” Janeway said wearily. “It’s used to the company of those who interact with it regularly, which means the qawHaq’hoch are also probably comfortable around it. You had to be willing to set aside your fear and let it get to know you a little. Many animals, no matter how ferocious they may appear, can be quite gentle and accommodating to their masters. By standing up to it in a nonthreatening way, you let it know that you are part of i
ts pack.”
“While I find your reasoning sound, it was still a huge risk to take,” Seven said.
“Not when you consider what we stand to lose if we fail,” Janeway replied.
Voyager’s bridge was shrouded in tense silence. At Chakotay’s left, Tom Paris sat with concentrated intensity. He had raged privately to Chakotay when he learned of Logt’s treachery, and Chakotay had allowed him to blow off steam. He still didn’t know if Tom was angrier with himself or with B’Elanna for their current predicament. Since then, he had alternated between barely repressed fury and a darker despondence. If they didn’t succeed in finding and safely returning B’Elanna and Miral to him, Chakotay worried that his old friend and trusted first officer might never recover.
Come to think of it, that wasn’t a scenario Chakotay had any interest in exploring either.
“Status, Ensign Lasren,” Chakotay said.
“Sensors show no sign of the away team, Captain. We lost them the moment they entered the mountain,” Lasren replied.
It wasn’t surprising, and actually gave credence to Kahless’s belief that the qawHaq’hoch were hiding within, though Chakotay couldn’t imagine what technology they were using to flummox the ship’s sensors.
A brisk sigh escaped Paris’s lips. Chakotay knew that if he didn’t provide Tom with an outlet for his aggression soon, the waiting would drive him over the edge. Problem was, there was simply nothing any of them could do until the admiral reported in, or missed her first scheduled check.
Kim suddenly called out, “Captain, I’m picking up a vessel decloaking to starboard.”
“On screen,” Chakotay ordered, rising to his feet. “Who the hell is that?” he asked as the ungainly ship came into view.
“It’s the Kortar, sir,” Lasren’s voice replied.
Chakotay had feared for days that T’Krek’s vessel wouldn’t be far behind his. Had Chakotay been in his place, he would have begun tracking B’Elanna and Kahless as soon as they’d escaped. As it stood now, Chakotay had no idea how long the Kortar had had Voyager in its sights.
“Red Alert,” Chakotay ordered. “Harry?”
“Shields are at maximum, Captain,” Harry replied. “Arming phasers.”
“Hail them, Lasren,” Chakotay said.
After a brief pause Lasren replied, “No response, sir.”
Chakotay watched as the Kortar moved at low impulse past Voyager and assumed a slightly lower orbit of the planet. Within a few moments, bright bursts of orange phaser fire erupted from it and began bombarding the planet below.
“What are they targeting?” Chakotay asked, more for confirmation, because he already knew the answer.
“Sector 347,” Harry replied. “They’re bombarding the area surrounding the mountain presumed to be hiding the sanctuary.”
“They’re trying to flush them out,” Paris said sternly.
“Or, from this distance, they can’t be more accurate,” Chakotay suggested.
“Captain, I’m detecting transporter activity,” Lasren interrupted.
“How many?” Chakotay asked.
“A hundred Klingon life signs are now on the surface, moving toward the entrance our team discovered.”
“Open a channel,” Chakotay called.
“They can hear you, sir,” Lasren replied.
“This is Captain Chakotay of the Federation Starship Voyager. We are on a rescue mission, and your actions are putting our people at risk.”
“You think they don’t know that?” Tom asked softly.
“Cease fire and transport immediately or we will take action,” Chakotay finished. Personally, he didn’t feel that T’Krek deserved the warning, but protocol demanded it.
“They’ve completed another transport,” Lasren advised. In the time Chakotay had given them, the strength of their forces on the surface had just doubled.
“Harry, target their weapons systems and fire,” Chakotay ordered.
T’Krek clearly anticipated the move. Voyager’s phasers barely grazed the target as the Kortar’s helmsman began evasive maneuvers.
The turbolift doors slid open, and Kahless and Tuvok stepped onto the bridge as Harry called out, “They are returning fire.”
Voyager shuddered under the impact.
“Shields are holding,” Harry advised.
“Attack pattern omega pi,” Chakotay ordered in response.
“Captain,” Kahless called, as Tare and Harry executed the maneuver, positioning Voyager between the Kortar and the planet, “I will lead a team to the surface to engage the Warriors of Gre’thor.”
“Do it.” Chakotay nodded as the ship took another hit.
“Permission to join the away team?” Paris asked immediately.
Chakotay stared hard at Tom, but it wasn’t really a tough decision.
“Bring them back to us,” Chakotay said firmly.
“I will, Captain,” Tom replied.
As Tom followed Kahless to the turbolift, Harry said, “Six teams are assembling in the transporter rooms, but we’ll still be outnumbered three to one, assuming the Kortar doesn’t send more troops.”
Chakotay didn’t like the math, but given the size of his crew, there wasn’t much he could do about it.
“Captain, I’d like to join the away team. As their commanding officer—” Harry asked.
Chakotay cut him off. “I need you on the bridge right now, Lieutenant.”
“I will assume Lieutenant Kim’s post, Captain,” Tuvok offered.
“Very well.” Chakotay nodded.
Chakotay appreciated Harry’s request. The Kortar was engaging defensively. Their true goal seemed to be to keep Voyager busy while their men attacked the sanctuary. T’Krek wasn’t doing any serious damage to Chakotay’s ship, and probably wouldn’t until the captain forced his hand.
“Tare, we need a little distance so we can drop shields and transport our teams down.”
“Aye, Captain.”
Within moments she had maneuvered the ship at one quarter impulse just clear of the Kortar’s weapons.
Chakotay followed her actions from the command console embedded in the arm of his chair.
The captain ordered Lasren to drop shields and authorize the transports.
They barely had time to restore their shields before the Kortar moved into position behind them.
Almost seventy of Chakotay’s crew were now on the planet, about to engage the Warriors of Gre’thor in battle. Chakotay didn’t honestly know if it was a battle they could win; the odds were definitely against them. But he knew for certain that defeat wasn’t on their minds as they rushed headlong to the aid of their companions.
“Voyager’s personnel have engaged the Warriors on the surface,” Tuvok called out from tactical.
Gods of my fathers, give them strength, Chakotay silently prayed.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Seven of Nine had never had a bat’leth held at her throat. There was, unfortunately, nothing she could do about it for the time being. The away team had been ambushed in the tunnels by a dozen Klingon warriors armed to the teeth, and Janeway had given them unequivocal orders to surrender. Seven agreed with the admiral’s choice, but she remained unhappy with the immediate results.
Seven had been agitated from the moment they entered the targot’s cavern. Her pent-up worry for B’Elanna and Miral aside, watching the creature dismember Lieutenant Campbell had been a horrific and wasteful spectacle. She had maintained her composure, yet an unfamiliar voice had stirred, demanding action. The qawHaq’hoch had caused considerable pain and disruption in the lives of those she cared about, and it had to end.
Sacrificing her life in a futile gesture against the superior force that had captured them, Seven realized, would not bring her any nearer her goal.
The qawHaq’hoch led the away team through a series of winding, downward-sloping tunnels. The shaft they chose had been invisible to her tricorder until they entered it. It was clearly a shortcut known only to the order.
The route Janeway’s team had followed after confronting the targot had been significantly more hazardous. The first obstacle they had encountered had been a series of swinging bridges suspended over a long chasm. Constructed of brittle wooden slats, the bridges had creaked ominously under their weight, and the team had been forced to cross them one uneasy member at a time. Waters had been the one to discover that crouching low while walking, a difficult balancing act that was most painful to the thighs, kept the bridges steady and allowed for quicker passage.
Next they had encountered a junction where thirteen shafts led in varying directions. Their tricorders were useless at aiding them in a choice, and checking each one individually was definitely a worst-case scenario. Maplethorpe had noticed that above each shaft was an engraved marking. The tricorder had successfully translated them as Klingon pictographs, precursors of the written Klingon language, with very simple meanings, like birth, honor, glory, battle, and death. Initially this hadn’t made their selection process any easier, until Janeway had observed that the orientation of the symbols suggested the path of one’s life. Beginning with birth, one moved through battle to honor, glory, and ultimately death. Beyond death was a symbol the tricorder translated as memory or history. Seven had intuited that given the qawHaq’hoch obsession with the past, this might be the right road. Because the qawHaq’hoch were Klingon, Maplethorpe had urged them toward battle, while Waters thought honor more appropriate. Finally, Janeway had pointed out that there was only one pictogram that represented a part of life that was solely the purview of women.
A few hundred meters into the tunnel marked birth, they found themselves surrounded by the warriors who had taken them captive.
They had reached a terminus, and each had been silently assigned two women to guard them while the leaders of the warriors had inserted a bat’leth into the wall and triggered an entrance into a larger chamber. In the brief glimpse she’d had before the door had slid shut, Seven had noted a flurry of activity in the vast space beyond. She surmised the activity was connected to the distant but regular blare of what sounded like an alarm, and wondered if their presence had activated the warning system.
Star Trek: Voyager®: Full Circle Page 19
