Ghost of a Chance - Mark Garland [88]
"The captain is hailing. They're ready to beam up."
Tuvok whirled about, stood absolutely still for a moment. He nodded to Stephens. "Put her on," he said. Then he raised his voice to shout over the din permeating the ship. "Captain, we are under attack. We will not be able to drop our shields in order to beam you up. I will attempt to move the ship out of danger, then return for you at the earliest--" "I'm afraid we won't be here when you get back," Janeway said anxiously. "The detonation timer is set, and we can't get to it.
In about four minutes, nothing is going to matter to us anymore."
"Shields down to fifty-three percent," B'Elanna dutifully reported.
Paris could hear the frustration in her voice, could see it on her face. He knew exactly how she felt.
"Helm," Tuvok said, "evasive maneuvers."
Paris didn't like the sound of that. "We can't just leave the captain," he said pleadingly, but he prepared to comply nonetheless.
He saw no alternative, but neither could he accept the prospect of abandoning Janeway.
"I would prefer to retrieve the captain and Mr. Chakotay if at all possible," Tuvok said. "But we cannot remain here, and we cannot drop our shields."
"Tuvok's right," Chakotay said, his voice just loud enough to be heard.
"There's nothing you can do for us."
"Maybe there is," Paris said, looking at the main viewscreen, at the nearest moon still displayed there. "I may have an idea."
His fingers began working the helm controls. "It just might work, if there's time."
"Whatever it is," Janeway responded in a level voice, "this would be a very good time to try it."
Paris looked to Tuvok. The Vulcan nodded, a blanket go-ahead.
Paris engaged the impulse engines. The small moon on the screen began to grow larger again, then began to move to port. The pounding ceased as Voyager evaded the barrage of weapons fire.
"The Televek cruiser is pursuing, maintaining distance," Rollins said.
"They are retargeting."
"Three minutes, Mr. Paris," Janeway said from below the planet's surface. "How is it going?"
"Hold on, Captain," Paris said. Sweat was gathering on his brow, beginning to seep into his eyes. He blinked sharply and fought the urge to take his hands away from the controls. "We've got plenty of time."
"Bridge to Engineering," Tuvok said, just as the Televek weapons found Voyager once again. Paris glanced up and saw the Vulcan watching the moon now. He understood, Paris thought. He understood completely.
"Engineering," Lieutenant Carey responded.
"Mr. Carey, you will go at once to the transporter room, where you will personally stand by for immediate beam-up of the captain and Commander Chakotay."
"Yes, sir," Carey answered. "I'm on my way." He signed off immediately.
"We'll only have a moment," Paris said.
Tuvok nodded. "Lieutenant Torres, prepare to drop the shields on my command. How long will it take to raise them again?"
"They're taking quite a beating. It'll take at least a minute and a half, unless..."
Paris glanced back to B'Elanna. She was looking from one bridge officer to the next, intense awareness in her narrowed eyes.
"Nothing. I'll be ready," she said. She turned back to her station and went to work.
Paris did the same. The maneuver wasn't a terribly tricky one, at least not ordinarily; he simply had to put Voyager into orbit around the moon. But they would only have half an orbit during which the moon would be between Voyager and the Televek cruiser--when Voyager was on the planet-facing side of the moon.
They wouldn't have time to try again, and their speed was much too high right now. Braking would have to be absolutely precise.
No matter, Paris told himself. He would deal with that.
"One minute and thirty seconds," Chakotay said from the planet's depths, his voice still as calm as a Vulcan's.
"We are hurrying, Commander," Tuvok answered calmly, though he seemed as close to showing angst