Star Trek - VOY - Battle Lines

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CHAPTER

YELLOW ALERT

Captain Janeway wedged her rigid shoulders into the command chair as the ship took on an acute hum. Like

her captain, the Voyager tensed as she approached the unknown.

"Defense fields energized. All decks report ready." Lieutenant Tuvok's voice was a calm baritone. Vulcan-calm.

"Intensify scans. I want to know what we're dealing with." Janeway let her glare lock on the rushing starscape

of the forward viewscreen, as if human eyes alone could watch ships that sensors only saw as shadows.

The captain pushed herself up and over toward the Ops station, where Harry Kim leaned into his console,

shaking his head, frustrated.

"Ensign?" the captain prodded.

"It's there, Captain, all over the sector. Heavy subspace activity."

She frowned. "But not the burst you saw before."

There was no question in the captain's voice, but the young man answered anyway. "No."

The tension in Janeway's shoulders worked its way up her neck and down her back as she pivoted toward the

tactical station. "Tuvok?"

"Scanners still indicate two slight subspace signatures which may be warp vessels, at extreme range."

May be. May not be.

"Find out."

Tuvok nodded once, and silently returned to his tactical sensors.

Janeway pulled in a deep, unsatisfying breath. She dragged her fingers along the rail on the upper bridge as she

stepped down to the command deck. Fresh, uncharted space was what she'd always wanted, still wanted . . . but

now a Federation Starbase wasn't only a month or two away—it was decades distant. Starbases didn't exist for

her or for the Voyager's crew, and that had to figure into her reasoning, her tactics.

But no matter how far she was from port, Starfleet's mission was to seek out new life . . . and these ships were

unknown.

"Mr. Paris, maintain course but reduce speed by one-quarter. Mr. Kim, narrow sensor frequency to focus on Mr.

Tuvok's vessel shadows. Tie in to his console."

"Unrepaired damage from our last encounter with the Aakteians has left the sensor array weak," Tuvok said.

"A narrow-band focus will reduce long-range sensors."

She nodded. "Then hurry."

Risk was an albatross around every explorer's neck, from Magellan to Byrd, from Cochrane to Kirk. They all

knew home for them was months away, and if they were stranded, hope could be counted in years. They had dealt

with it. So would Voyager and her crew.

"Scanning. . . ." Tuvok said suddenly. "Definitely two space-faring vessels with warp signatures, bearing

one-one-nine mark seventeen. A parallel course."

Janeway pivoted toward tactical again. "Identification?"

Would they be friend or foe? Voyager had found plenty of both in the Delta quadrant.

"These data are from extreme range—"

"Noted. Report."

"Both ships are of a class heretofore unseen. Class five warp signatures, no detectable weapons, and a class

fifteen shield."

"Class fifteen shields?" Lieutenant Tom Paris angled

around from the helm. "We could snap through those pretty quick."

Tuvok cocked his head so that he could see past the Captain and into Paris's eyes. "I also register thick

armor, construct unknown, class unknown, but more dense than any Alpha quadrant vessels on file."

"Oh." The helmsman turned back to his console.

"Captain, we're being scanned," Ensign Kim called.

Tuvok confirmed with a nod. "Verified."

Janeway took the center seat again. "All right. We're looking at them, they're looking at us."

Hope and apprehension rode the same wave of emotion across the bridge. Many new races had greeted the

Voyager with friendship: the Talaxians, the Raduk, the Baadalian. But many they'd left behind had become

enemies: the Vidians, the Kazon sects, the Aakteians.

Where would this new race fit?

"They're changing course," Tuvok said, a slightly surprised edge to his voice. "An intercept vector."

Lieutenant Paris held his fingers just above the helm console, apparently ready to make a course correction

if ordered.

Janeway noticed. "Hold your course, Lieutenant."

"Aye, Captain."

"Hailing frequencies, Mr. Kim. Let them know we're not a threat. Mr. Tuvok, revert to a full sector scan."

Giving orders held a satisfaction of its own—the feeling that any situation could be controlled, tamed.

And an ensign as young as Kim needed his captain to be fully in control. Janeway gauged the ship's tension

through his young voice, and from the way it cut now, she knew she had to be Voyager's anchor. "Captain," he

said, "they're receiving the hail, but not responding."

Not a good sign. "I don't like this," Janeway said. "Come about, Mr. Paris. I want a course that curves away from

the intercept point. One-one-five, mark two-zero. Z plus point-two light days. They want to intercept us before we

see them, and I don't like that."

Paris dabbed at his console. "Aye, Captain. One fifteen, mark twenty. Z plus point two L.D."

"Captain, they're matching our course and speed," Tuvok reported. "Correcting for our change in trajectory."

Janeway nodded, as if she'd expected that, and allowed no surprise to show in her eyes. She palmed a control on the

arm of her command chair. "Commander Chakotay, report to the bridge."

Immediately the turbolift doors slid open and Chakotay marched forward.

The captain allowed herself a brief smile.

"I was on my way when I saw the Yellow Alert." He lowered himself into the seat next to the command chair and

activated his status viewer.

Janeway pointed to the tactical screen at her left. "We've got two ships on an intercept course, refusing to answer

hails."

"And two more," Tuvok added, "now on sensors at extreme range."

"Kirn?"

"Still no response to our hails."

"Raise shields." Janeway shared a moment's glance with Chakotay, then looked toward the tactical display. "Let's

hope they realize we lack armor only because we have other defenses."

"All four vessels have increased speed. Intercept in forty-three seconds."

"I'm reading power surges on those ships, Captain. Could be a weapons charge."

"I don't like these odds. Edge away, Mr. Paris. Get us some safe distance."

"I'll try, Captain, but the other two are zig-zagging around as they come in."

"They're trying to box us in," Chakotay said.

Janeway nodded agreement. "Red Alert."

"Battle stations. Battle stations. All hands, battle stations!"

The bridge lights flickered to a red hue, cutting the glare from white accent lights. Janeway could feel power surging

through the ship, vibrating up the deck plates from Engineering, deep below. The small Voyager crew took to their

alert stations, and she imagined she could feel their energy

too—boots rushing down corridors, staccato voices

chopping out orders and routines.

"Locking phasers," Tuvok said.

"Belay that." Janeway rose and took a few steps toward tactical. "If they can scan us, they'll see we're targeting

them."

"Indeed," Tuvok said. "Wouldn't that be advisable?"

"Are we

sure

they have armed their weapons?"

The Vulcan checked his scanner. "I cannot be sure until we have positively identified their weapon type—presum-

ing they have armaments that can be identified by our sensors."

New encounters were always a tightrope walk between too much caution and too much risk.

"Captain." Chakotay rose too. "Boxing us in

an aggressive act."

Janeway nodded slowly. "No argument. But we have a reputation in this quadrant now, Commander. A bad

one, as far as some are concerned. They may have scanned us, recognized our design from rumors, and now see

as the threat."

"Captain, they're trying to herd us. I can't keep out of range." Paris was annoyed. The starscape on the viewscreen

wheeled by as he tried to maneuver

Voyager

between the approaching ships.

Now visible on the main screen, the alien vessels looked large, bulky, and rocket-shaped, with dark hulls that nearly

blended into the blackness of space.

"I want a few phaser shots across their bows, Mr. Tuvok." The captain came up behind the conn station. Paris was

grappling with the control panel, twisting the ship as she readied herself to fire. Janeway had an urge to sit in that seat

herself. Every job on the starship was ultimately her job, and she would have felt better with her own hand on the

helm.

"Phasers . . ." Tuvok droned. "Firing."

Voyager

spat a few phaser slices into space, just missing the mild shields of the approaching ships.

"All targets changing course. Attack vectors."

"They're firing, Captain. Point-blank!"

As Kim spoke, blue tendrils of electric flame whipped around the ship, slapping the shields.

"Disruptor-like weapons, Captain," Tuvok called. "Shields, aft and fore, down to ninety-three percent."

Janeway gripped Paris's chair as the vessel shook around her. "Return fire! Full phasers. Evasive sub starboard."

"They're firing again!"

Lightning crashed against the shields.

"Damage—decks five and six, aft sections."

"Damage control, Chakotay."

"En route."

Again, blue rods of flame shot from one of the enemy vessels and raked

Voyager

back.

"Aft phasers. Ready torpedoes just in case." Janeway forced herself back into the command chair. On the tactical

screen, four alien vessels kept swooping down, firing, then withdrawing. "Protect our flank, Mr. Paris."

"Aye, aye."

"Kim, do what you can to get an answer to our hails." Janeway looked up toward Tuvok. "What could this be

about? Why?"

The Vulcan had no answer.

"Captain, one of them is damaged and retreating."

"The lead ship has released a solid object." Kirn's voice, not panicked, but charged. "Simple

propulsion—twenty-four seconds to contact."

Before Janeway could glance back up to Tuvok, he was acting on her unspoken order. "Checking . . ."

Only a moment of silence, as Paris spun the ship this way and that, before Tuvok spoke again.

"A nuclear device," he said matter-of-factly. "Armed for impact against our shields."

"You've got to be kidding," Chakotay said, incredulous.

"They're still ignoring all hails."

"Keep trying," Janeway ordered, then quickly spun back to Tuvok. "They don't want to talk? Let's give them some

incentive." She glared at the screen, at one of the alien vessels as it retreated. "That ship is moving away—the nuclear

device is a danger to them."

"Without proper shielding, it may disrupt their subspace and impulse systems."

"Seven seconds to impact," Kirn said.

"Tractor beam," Janeway ordered. "Swing the warhead back at them."

Tuvok nodded appreciatively. "Aye, Captain."

A quiet bridge ... in battle, that meant a bridge stoked with tension.

Tuvok jabbed at his control panel. A moment—

The warhead swung around as if pitched from an invisible sling-shot. The enemy vessel tried to increase speed.

Tried—

And failed.

Space before them bubbled white hot, then cooled and expanded outward in all directions—an explosion basic

in physics and power.

"Shockwave," Kirn reported.

Voyager

shuddered slightly, and only for a moment, as the energy from the chain reaction washed over them.

"The alien vessel," Tuvok said, "has been destroyed."

Janeway and Chakotay shared a bewildered look.

"I surmise that the impact created an internal explosion in their warp propulsion system." Tuvok slid from one

screen to another on his console. "Three more ships have arrived. Different configurations but similar armaments."

"From three-to-one to six-to-one." Janeway tugged at the collar of her tunic and leaned forward toward Paris. "Eva-

sive pattern omega three-four, warp one."

"Engaging."

"Tuvok, even those odds. Fire phasers at will. Kim, tell them this ends when they end it."

Voyager

lashed out. Orange sabers of energy punctured the weak shields of the alien ships and sliced into

their armor. Molten lines of damage quickly cooled in the vacuum of space.

"Direct hits. We've damaged one severely, the other has lost propulsion," Tuvok said. "Two enemy vessels

limping back, reserve three coming in."

Enemy vessels.

Enemy.

Janeway had no idea who they suddenly had as enemies. There had to be a reason . . .

she needed to have one.

She'd find out before this was over—she promised herself that.

The largest of the next three alien vessels ascended across the forward viewscreen.

Paris punched at his naviconsole. "This one's a biggun', Captain. I'm trying to stay out of its way."

"Mass of this vessel is twenty-three times our own, Captain," Kim said.

Tuvok bowed over his sensors. "Weapons status unknown. Dense armor. High subspace output."

A flash on the screen, and a thousand small projectiles appeared, speeding toward

Voyager.

Chakotay motioned to the tactical screen. "They've called in the big guns."

"Metallic alloy objects. Captain. Unknown propellant," Tuvok called. "Meant to disrupt our shields."

Armor rather than shields . . . mechanical

and

energy weapons. Whoever they were, they lacked some of the

technology the Federation had in abundance. Janeway could use that.

"Launch countermeasures, Mr. Tuvok. Let's show them that bigger isn't better."

Tuvok dabbed at his board and

Voyager

launched a torpedo that shot forward, hovered a moment, then exploded

into a million small flares. Space ignited as each fiare found one of the enemy shells, and both died in a fiery struggle.

"The two smaller vessels are firing disrupters again. Aft dorsal shield weakened."

"I need our flank protected, Mr. Pans."

"Trying. Captain. They're targeting our aft."

Janeway hit a button on the arm of her chair. "Janeway to Engineering."

"Torres here."

"We're losing dorsal shields." Neither statement nor question—the captain wanted a solution.

"I'm switching to secondary generators, Captain, but circuits are overloading."

Every sentence punctuated with an explosion of power that raked

Voyager's

shields, Janeway leaned down to

the chair-arm comm. "Reroute wherever you have to, Lieutenant. I don't want to lose shields. We don't have the

armor these people have."

"Aye, Captain,"

Janeway thumbed the comm off. "Bridge out."

"Captain—" Paris called her attention and pointed at the forward viewscreen.

"What are they doing?"

Tuvok answered, as the largest ship sped toward

Voyager

"Pursuing a collision course," he said calmly.

"They're going to ram us," Janeway whispered.

"We cannot cope with a warp-speed ram from a vessel of such mass," Tuvok said.

Janeway jabbed at a safe coordinate on the tactical board. "Warp evasive! Get us out of here!"

"No room to maneuver, Captain."

"Warn them off, Tuvok. Tell them we'll cripple them if they attempt to ram this vessel." She wanted Tuvok to

handle the hail. He'd word it better than Kim.

"Aye."

"They're coming around to the aft," Kim said, his tone calmer than Janeway might have guessed it would be.

"Become a corkscrew, Mr. Paris. Don't let them in."

Paris shook his head. "This is fun," he said dryly, and

Voyager

began a spinning course upward as the two other

enemy vessels continued to direct fire at her aft shields.

"Aft dorsal shield collapsing, Captain."

Voyager

lashed out in its spin, spitting hot phaser beams at the three attacking ships.

The enemy lashed back.

"Impact with lead ship in fifteen seconds!"

They'd been warned. . . .

"Photon torpedoes," Janeway said. "Fire all bays. Aim strategically, Tuvok. I want that vessel stopped. Target their

engines. Fire at will."

Phasers still lighting up the hulls of her enemies,

Voyager

hissed out a spread of torpedoes, point blank into the

approaching vessel.

The most forward vessel erupted into molten debris as its hull collapsed and its engines imploded.

Voyager

was

pushed back by the force, tossed aside by a wash of energy and wreckage. She rolled, end-over-end, riding the wave of

debris that exploded too close to her hull.

Janeway pitched from the command chair and onto the

bard deck. Balance restored itself, and she quickly pushed herself up, giving Chakotay a hand as well.

"Status!"

"Continuing to fire." How Tuvok managed to hold onto his station when everyone else lost theirs . . . "We have a

shield breach at aft dorsal. Damage to decks five, six, and ten. Warp power is offline."

"Auxiliary power to the shields." Janeway returned to the command chair but didn't sit. Without her aft defensive

shield,

Voyager

could be carved up like Christmas ham. "I want that screen up. Mr. Paris, best speed evasive. Get us

out—"

"They've ceased fire," Tuvok said.

Al! looked up as four loud

thunks

vibrated through the ship.

A physical hit, on the ship's hull.

Not the sound of a weapon, but the sound of debris hitting the hull plates.

Janeway spun toward Chakotay. "What was that?"

He shrugged, more with his eyes than his shoulders, and leaned into his status screen.

"The vessels are backing off on their own," Tuvok said, just a hint of surprise in his tone.

"Engineering says warp is still offline, and now warp power levels are fluctuating!" Paris pounded on his board.

"We have a hull breach." Kim was incredulous. "I think."

"You

think?"

Janeway jumped up to the upper deck. She leaned over Kirn's console. "Tuvok, verify this." She pecked

at Ensign Kim's control panel.

The captain waited a moment, then met the Vulcan's eyes. "A mine?" she asked.

"Negative."

His voice was too passive at times like these.

"Then what?"

"A device of some kind, producing a warp-dampening field. They've launched it through the hole they blasted

open in our shields."

"Captain, we're being hailed."

She looked up at Ensign Kim, then down to his console and the communications display which showed an incom-

ing message.

Straightening, Janeway strode down to her command chair. "Ignore the hail. Mr. Paris, warp speed or not, get us

out of here."

Paris shook his head once. "Aye, Captain."

"Chakotay, I want that thing off my ship." She crooked a thumb over her shoulder. "Get it off."

He nodded and was into the turbolift before she sat down.

Under Paris's prodding,

Voyager

tensed, gathered herself, and twisted out toward open space.

A moment further into the maneuver, and the ship was violently wrenched back, the air on the bridge cracking with

the sound of stressed bulkheads.

"Tractor beams, class four," Tuvok said. "One from each enemy vessel."

Enemy. Why?

Janeway dug her fingers into the armrests of the command chair. Alien vessels had a tight grip on her ship. She

should have a tighter one. "Full impulse, Mr. Paris. Push her."

Laboring against the energy that seized her,

Voyager

inched forward on her course. The engines whined.

"Torres to Janeway. We've got a bad coolant leak. Impulse overheating."

"Do what you can," Janeway said. "Push, Mr. Paris," she rasped. "Tuvok, reroute phasers through impulse

power. Disable those tractors."

"Aye, Captain."

Voyager

fired, and even with impulse phasers she cut fire into their alien hulls. Explosions racked one ship, and it fell

away.

The loss of its pull on the

Voyager

pushed the ship forward and took some moan from the engines' whine.

"One vessel has been disabled, Captain."

"Three on one again. We might never have a better advantage. Disable these and we've earned our pay."

Before Tuvok could respond, the viewscreen filled—a multitude of ships falling out of warp. Janeway pushed

herself up and toward the viewer, making sure she kept her jaw from gaping. "How many?" she whispered.

Tuvok's answer did not come immediately. He'd probably double-checked the sensors.

"Twenty-three vessels, Captain. Not all the same class or design, but all heavily armored, with shields raised and

weapons armed." This time his voice was not as neutral. Vulcans had a grave tone, too, and this was Tuvok's.

Janeway patted Tom Paris on the shoulder. "All stop."

The engine whine died to a dull hum, and the silence of the bridge chewed at the captain. What order could she

give? What could they do—without reinforcements, without a Federation—surrounded by two dozen ships?

The tension was too thick to cut.

"Accept the hail, Mr. Kirn."

"Yes, ma'am."

A flicker of the forward screen, and an alien face filled the viewer. Humanoid, with angled features that could pass for

Vulcan or Romulan, except the ears were more Okampan. long and close to the skull, with many ridges.

Captain Janeway stepped forward. "What do you want?" No sense wasting time with an introduction. Her initial

hails had identified the

Voyager,

its mission, and its intentions. This new enemy knew all that and didn't care.

"My apologies, Captain," the alien said, the Universal Translator interpreting his tone as flatly as his real voice

sounded. "But what 1 want . . . is your ship."

CHAPTER 2

CAPTAIN JANEWAY LOOKED AT TUVOK

THEN TURNED TOWARD

Kim so the alien on the forward viewer could not sec her

face. "When I turn back, cut me with static and lose the signal."

Kim gave the slightest of nods.

"We should discuss this," Janeway told the alien as she slowly turned back around. "Perhaps we can—"

Static scratched the screen back to a starscape view.

"Simple code only," Janeway ordered, pivoting back to Kim. "Tell them we're having comm trouble." She marched

toward the tactical station, stepping quickly to the upper deck. "Tuvok, have hand phasers issued to all crew

members. Security will carry phaser rifles. They want a fistfight? They'll get one."

"Aye. Captain."

"General Quarters. Intruder alert status." She slapped a; her combadge. "Janeway to Chakotay. Tell rne you've got a

way to get that thing off the ship."

"Wish I could, Captain. We can't even get clone enough to tell. It's emitting high-level radiation right through the

bulkhead. Seven-of-nine and I are rigging some special suits now, for a closer look. "

The captain looked toward the turbolift and stifled the urge to go down there herself. "Danger to the crew?"

"Not after we evacuate this section."

"Do it, and let me know something—fast. You have five minutes. Janeway out." She crisply jabbed the comm off

and pushed herself toward Harry Kirn's Ops station. "Mr. Kirn, tell them we have audio now and are working on

visual communications." She rested her hand on his shoulder a moment, then left it with a pat. "We want to sound

like we're working, but make sure they get the idea we're having a lot of problems."

"Aren't we?" Paris asked.

Stepping back down toward her command chair, Janeway glared at the tactical board and nodded grimly. "Twenty-six

problems, to be exact, Mr. Paris."

"Twenty-four. Two ships have retreated." Tuvok stepped down to the lower deck and handed Janeway a hand

phaser and a holster. "Auxiliary power circuits are overloaded on three decks. Battery power is at ninety-three

percent. Warp power can be restored, but with their warp dampener, we will not be able to create a subspace field.

The impulse engine coolant leak is under control, but as Lieutenant Torres puts it, 'Band-aids don't fix broken

arms.'"

"Repair time?" Janeway attached the holster to the waistband of her uniform and snapped the phaser into place.

The sound and feel of that was comforting. She'd defend her ship to the last ounce of energy in her sidearm, the last

thought in her mind, and the last bit of strength in her body.

"Three hours for optimal repair." Tuvok leaned toward the helm and held out a phaser and holster for Paris.

"We're not getting out of here on impulse drive," Paris said, taking the weapon. As he turned around, Janeway

noticed he was sweating. The bridge was hot, partly with tension, partly because of circuits that had burned in battle.

It was a dry heat, though, and the perspiration evaporated quickly, leaving everyone's forehead shiny rather than

drenched.

Everyone but Tuvok. He looked almost content, as if nothing had happened, as if the

Voyager

weren't teetering

on the edge of a cliff. Only his tone told a different story. and probably only to Janeway.

"I am forced to agree with Mr. Paris," he said. "Twer.iy-four vessels is a major force. We cannot escape on impulse

power."

For a moment too long, Janeway said nothing. Too much silence from a captain could worry a crew, so she turned her

silence into a determined march and stalked forward toward the viewscreen.

"Maybe we won't need to escape." She motioned toward the viewscreen. "Clear up our communications, Mr. Kirn."

A crackle of static, and the alien visage they'd seen a few minutes ago reappeared.

"Who are you?" Janeway asked, without banality.

"Dahlyar Lekket,"

the alien said, his tone very neutral.

"Commodore of the Edesian Fleet."

Leaning forward, balancing one arm on the back of Tom Paris's chair, Janeway almost rasped her hard question.

"Why?"

She needn't say more. Lekket knew what she wanted to know. Any ship captain would.

"It is complicated, Captain,"

Lekket said, sounding al

most penitent.

Janeway nodded and stared hard at Lekket. "I'm listening."

Lekket glanced to someone off screen. "/

would rather

speak to you in person."

Janeway looked back to Tuvok,

her

someone off screen.

"I assure you, Captain, we mean you no great harm,"

Lekket said.

eat

harm. Interesting phrasing. If thai was a lie. why not completely lie? If it was the truth, why nearly destroy

the

Voyager?

"Your vessels refuse to answer peaceful hails, attack us. and now you train twenty-four banks of deadly weapons on

my ship. Am I really supposed to believe you mean us 'no great harm'?"

"As 1 said. Captain . . . the situation is complicated 1 have a shuttle and am prepared to dock

— "

Janeway shook her head. "We'll not be opening our bay

doors for your party just yet, Commodore. This is

not

your

ship, and an attempt to board will leave all parties . . . unhappy."

Lekket nodded his assent. "/

understand."

"We'll send a shuttle to receive you," Janeway said. "And then, we will indeed have a long conversation."

look forward to it."

With that pleasantry, spoken still rather flatly, the communication ended.

Paris turned and looked up at Janeway. "I'll take that shuttle, Captain."

Allowing herself a slight smile, Janeway said, "I wouldn't think of sending anyone else, Tom."

"We have fifteen minutes until the commodore of these tdesians is aboard, and I want to be able to trump him

when he gets here." Janeway had one hand on her bolstered phaser. She leaned a little on the lip of Tuvok's station

console, allowing the ship to give her support as she tried to protect it from further attack.

"Unfortunately," Tuvok said, pointing to the monitor above his tactical station, "he holds most of the cards."

Janeway pushed herself erect and looked intently at the screen.

"Commander Chakotay and Seven's tricorder data confirm our initial scans," the Vulcan continued. "The

warp-dampener will flood the ship with radiation if we attempt to deactivate it. It will flood the ship with radiation if

we attempt to carve it off the hull. If we initiate a strong warp field, it will flood the ship with radiation."

"You're being redundant, Mr. Tuvok."

"I am being factual, Captain. Any action we take will kill the crew within minutes, while leaving the vessel intact."

"They have a fleet . . ." She narrowed her gaze and leveled it at the alien ships on the forward viewscreen.

"Why do they want our one ship?"

"I do not know," Tuvok answered. "But Commander Chakotay and his team are in sickbay with mild radiation

sickness. Unable to even further study the device on our hull, we will have to wait for Commodore Lekket's explana-

tion."

The turbolift doors opened, and her First Officer stepped onto the upper bridge deck.

"You're fit for duty?" Janeway asked.

"I'm fine," Chakotay said, "but I did get a sermon from the Doctor on the medicinal use of radiation and how I was

going about it the wrong way."

The captain smiled, briefly, and Tuvok . . . remained Vulcan.

"Has the doctor finished my little project with the subcutaneous transponders?" Janeway asked Chakotay.

He patted his arm. "Everyone."

"All right." Janeway said. "This is what I want. Ail transporter rooms are to be sealed, their doors made to look like

bulkheads. All records of transporter technology are to be hidden. That means hiding the command processes, even in

the computer."

Tuvok nodded.

"Replicators too. We'll eat rations and the products from Mr. Neeiix's gardens."

"Docking bay to the bridge."

Janeway pushed a panel on Tuvok's tactical console. "Bridge here."

"Lieutenant Paris's shuttle has returned. "

Less than the fifteen minutes in which Janeway ruui hoped she could find a miracle to answer their predicament.

Thumbing the comm off, she nodded to Tuvok. "You're with me. I have a few other special arrangements I want

made. We'll stop in Engineering and handle them from there."

Tuvok rose and they marched toward the lift doors.

"You have the conn, Commander."

Chakotay nodded. "Aye, Captain."

Either Commodore Lekket and his companion were flashy dressers, or they were in high-occasion military garb.

Their uniforms, if that's what they were, weren't the sarnr-as she'd seen over the comm. What Lekket wore now was

more elaborate, more colorful, and had what could have been citation medals around his neck.

They approached Janeway with a brisk march, apparently

undaunted by the three guards with phaser rifles that stood against the bulkhead opposite the shuttle.

Tuvok at her side, Paris at Lekket's side, they met in the middle of the shuttle bay. The wide open space above them

made the setting almost ceremonial.

"Commodore," Janeway greeted, reluctantly holding out her hand.

When he was close enough, Lekket placed a thin pouch in Janeway's outstretched palm. It was as if he'd handed her

his wallet.

Then he spoke: "Captain Kathryn Janeway, of the Feder

ation

Starship Voyager

..."

She almost replied, then realized that he was making a formal presentation, memorized and blandly read.

"I am Commodore Dahlyar Lekket, Edesian Fifth Fleet Command."

"1 am Lieutenant Azil Bolis, Edesian Intelligence Command," said his companion.

"By order of his honor and highness Leader of the Fifth Fleet," Lekket continued, "I am authorized, with all

just powers and rights, to impress this ship and her crew to one rotation in the Edesian Fifth Fleet."

Janeway said nothing, and with a quick shake of her head, quieted a possible comment from Paris.

She wanted Lekket to speak, and no one else. She wanted to hear his words, not those written for him.

After an awkward silence, Lekket finally spoke again. "I'm sorry, Captain. I understand that this is difficult to

grasp, but

all

aligned and nonaligned vessels in this area are now under martial command, no matter what their affilia-

tion."

His

words finally, but still Janeway could tell he'd said them before, perhaps many times.

"Of course," he continued, obviously uncomfortable with the

silence Janeway

wielded, her expression un-

changed, "If the

Voyager

has nonessential crew they will be transported to safety, but the rest of the crew must run

the ship as they have been trained. It is Edesian law."

Still Janeway said nothing. She continued to hold out her arm, Lekket's pouch in her hand. Probably official

orders.

Orders from an alien fleet, about her ship and her crew, in a language she didn't know.

sorry, Captain. When the crisis is over, if you survive, the

Voyager

and her crew will be allowed to go on

their way."

Janeway nodded once, then dropped the pouch .he'd handed her. The sound of it slapping against the deck startled

him and his head drew back as if he'd been struck.

"Why?" she demanded.

LekJcet didn't answer a moment. He shared a brief glance with Bolis, then looked back to Janeway. Either he was

surprised by her question, or the insistant tone in which she asked.

"The survival of countless starsystems depends on such drastic measures. Captain. We have no choice."

"And if I do not agree to your terms?"

"Then we are all dead."

CHAPTER 3

"THIS SHIP WILL NOT BE BOARDED." JANEWAY BROUGHT UP HER

own phaser and leveled it at Lekket and Bolis. "I am in command here, no one else."

Lekket frowned, as if only disappointed in Janeway's actions, but not dissuaded from his own. "We don't intend

to remove you from command, Captain. We seek only to enlist your help in our time of need."

Political cow-cookies.

Captain Janeway kept her phaser up. Paris had stepped away from Lekket and Bolis, and had his phaser raised

as well. The only people without weapons drawn were the two Edesians.

"I'm sorry," Janeway said. "But we can't help you."

Races that closely resembled humans often had similar body language, and when Lekket sighed, Janeway

sensed regret—possibly sorrow—that Voyager's capture wasn't as easy as planned.

"We are not offering a choice, Captain. We intend to treat you well, but these are difficult times ..."

"That's not 'seeking to enlist our help,'" Janeway said harshly. "That's a death threat."

With a slight nod, Lekket accepted that. "As you wish. But many lives have been lost, and many more are sure to

pass from us. If threatening you is but one brick in a new foundation of Edesian hope—if together we can save just

a few more lives—then I will proudly hold the knife at your throat."

Janeway squared her shoulders as if she might have to lunge forward and knock some sense into him. She

wouldn't, but tensing her body was somehow an emotional release and it helped to clear her mind. "You can't force

us to fight if we refuse."

"No, I cannot," Lekket said, hands at his sides, an oak of calm and dispassion. "But we do not have to treat you

with respect, Captain. We'd like to, but we need not. We now grapple for our own survival, and if you choose to

fight us, rather than join us, we will kill you and your crew, and take your ship for our own."

The shuttle bay plunged into silence. Her arm bent, Janeway continued to level her phaser evenly, at

mid-chest level.

"Or," she said finally, "I could destroy my ship now, and you with it." She let that thought weigh on the Edesians

a moment, then she cocked her head toward Tuvok without taking her eyes, or her weapon, off the aliens. "How

many ships could we maintain tractor beams on while we initiated a self-destruct countdown?"

"Fifteen," the Vulcan said.

"And how much damage would the shockwave from our warp-core breach cause those ships?"

Tuvok was matter-of-fact, and took no time for calculation. "Taking into account the inherent instability I've

monitored in their various types of warp drive, I believe they would all be destroyed in a chain reaction

subspace explosion."

Captain Janeway allowed herself the slightest of "checkmate" smiles. "Maybe we're worth one or two of your

ships," she said. "But are we worth fifteen or twenty?"

Lekket shook his head, and looked to Bolis. "Proceed."

His fingers on a pendant around his neck, Bolis pressed a button and spoke. "Begin."

Janeway felt her brow furrow. Begin what?

A moment later, the computer alert system explained:

"Warning, level one radiation contamination. Warning. Dangerous levels of radiation detected. Warning..."

The captain shared a glance with her tactical officer.

"Apparently, they can control the radiation output of their warp-dampening device," Tuvok said, punctuating

the obvious with his cool explanation.

Janeway outstretched her arm, leveling her weapon at Lekket's head. "Tell them to stop."

"Warning, level one radiation contamination. Warning. Dangerous levels of radiation detected. Warning..."

"In three minutes," Lekket said flatly, "every living being on this ship will be dead. If you stand down from a

defensive posture, your life and the lives of your crew will be spared. If you attempt to destroy your ship, we will

increase the contamination, and all will be dead in a matter of moments."

Edging her words around the angry lump in her throat, Janeway ground out a demand. "Tell me how you can

claim not to want to harm anyone, and still do this?

Lekket gave an elaborate shrug. "The same way you can threaten to do such a thing to your own ship and people,

Captain. We are all animals." He gestured to her phaser, then motioned his hand about to include the entire ship.

"Our teeth are sharper, of course. Our muscles are stronger as we cloak our physical weakness in technology, but

we are still just brutes, fighting for survival. Sometimes we forget that, because we're not always so raw as in

war ..." His voice was thick with self-pity and perhaps even disgust. "But captains like us would be wise to

remember, there is no such thing as civilization. We play at civilization, Captain, like children who put on their

parents' clothes and pretend to be adults. Like an ugly monster might delude himself into imagining a mirror

reflection of unique beauty." His jaw tensed, and he looked as if he might spit his own words onto the deck.

"Lies, Captain. All lies. We are beasts, and must live our lives as such."

"Warning, level one radiation contamination. Warning. Dangerous levels of radiation detected. Warning..."

"You'll die with us in any case," Janeway rasped.

"Yes," he said.

She lowered her phaser and let it dangle useless at her side. 'Tell them to stop," she whispered.

Lekket nodded, and Bolis spoke. "Cease."

"Warning, level one radiation contamination—Radiation level dropping. Condition yellow."

"Some of your crew will need to undergo decontamination. Perhaps even ourselves," Lekket said.

Janeway nodded. She'd been outbluffed. But she'd taken steps for even this contingency, and while this round

was lost, the fight would go on.

Lekket stooped and retrieved the packet Janeway had dropped. He handed it back to her, and when she refused

to accept it, he held it close to his tunic. "Lieutenant Bolis here will need to review your computer record banks, your

crew roster, your ship's status reports, and so on."

Janeway nodded, bolstered her phaser.

"We will shuttle over several guards, but your crew will be allowed to man their usual stations, with some

guidance."

"My crew won't be loyal to you." Janeway had to keep herself from nearly growling her words.

"You will remain in command of your vessel, Captain, and I will make this my flagship, commanding the

battle from here. Your crew will follow your orders, and you will follow mine."

She could stun them both now, put them in the brig . . . and then what?

She'd promised to see her crew home. This was now a major, perhaps final, detour.

Captain Janeway nodded very slowly. For now, she would do as asked. Only for now.

"You have a fine ship here, Captain," Lekket said. "It is not my intention to lose it. We've sacrificed much to

add your vessel to our force ... I will act to keep it safe."

Janeway hammered Lekket with an angry glare and stepped toward him. "Oh, so will I. You have my word

on it."

The bridge. Intruders here were a violation, and somehow the situation felt more desperate than it had an hour

earlier. Janeway had allowed Lekket to shuttle his soldiers

aboard, and now the ship seemed farther from home than ever before.

Bolis, obviously Lekket's right-hand man, hovered over Tuvok's console. The Vulcan stood by and watched

the alien's doings.

Breaking her from thought, Ensign Kim handed Janeway an information padd. She thought his tight frame

broadcast the entire crew's anxiety. Or perhaps she was just reading her own burden into his posture.

She took the computer display board from him, glanced over the information, and gave him an encouraging

nod. This isn't over, she thought. We're not done fighting.

Lekket pulled the padd from Janeway's hand. He placed one of the pendants that hung around his neck on the

computer board, then handed the padd back and looked at his necklace as if it were a stopwatch.

"Our secondary power is restored," Janeway told Lekket.

He nodded. "So I see."

"Then you also see that we can't get warp power online with your warp-dampening device active."

Lekket's lips were cold slices that arched upward. A chilling, emotionless smile. "Lieutenant Bolis?" He

prompted.

Bolis turned from Tuvok's tactical station and stood at attention. "The warp dampener will not hamper warp

power from being restored, only from the creation of a warp field. You can restore power with the dampening process

in effect by using matter/antimatter intermix settings previously calculated."

Nodding, Lekket took one step closer to Janeway. "Yours is a brave lie, Captain, but your engineers no doubt are

aware of that process. You must employ it quite often, in fact, during battle. Unless you calculate an intermix

ratio every time you increase warp speed."

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CHAPTER1"YELLOWALERT!"CaptainJanewaywedgedherrigidshouldersintothecommandchairastheshiptookonanacutehum.Likehercaptain,theVoyagertensedassheapproachedtheunknown."Defensefieldsenergized.Alldecksreportready."LieutenantTuvok'svoicewasacalmbaritone.Vulcan-calm."Intensifyscans.Iwanttoknowwhatwe'redealing...

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Star Trek - VOY - Battle Lines

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