Ghost of a Chance - Mark Garland [89]
Paris was aware that for a Vulcan, that serene demeanor came naturally, a characteristic of the species; Chakotay's nearly inhuman emotional control seemed to come from another source.
The two of them and Captain Janeway were an inspiration to one another, Paris had noted, often drawing from each other's strengths. They were an inspiration to him as well.
He waited until the last possible moment, until Stephens verified that the moon had begun to pass directly between the two ships; then he reversed the impulse engines and made one final course correction.
Voyager slowed just enough to allow the moon's gentle gravitation pull to capture her, if only for a moment, and swing her around toward the planet.
"All clear," Rollins stated, sounding breathless.
"Lieutenant Torres," Tuvok said.
B'Elanna nodded. "Shields down."
Tuvok raised his voice. "Bridge to Carey. Beam them up--now."
"We don't have a good lock, Lieutenant," Ensign Carey replied.
"We're at just over 41,000 kilometers from the planet's surface, that's at the extreme limits of our transporter range."
Tuvok rocked back on his heels and wrinkled his brow--in an almost human expression, Paris thought. "I suggest you try anyway," he said tersely. "That is why I called you."
"Yes, sir. Engaging--now."
"Fifty seconds," Chakotay's voice informed the bridge. "How is it going?"
"Boosting to maximum gain," Carey said. "Transferring all available power. Recalibrating the targeting scanners. Mr. Tuvok, we have a coordinate lock. It's not perfect, but it might do."
Paris watched the moon spinning beneath them on the main viewscreen, then falling away behind them. The assumption was that the Televek ship would follow them around the back of the moon. The risk was that the cruiser would instead double back, and be waiting when Voyager emerged on the moon's planet-facing side. He didn't see them so far.
"Fifteen seconds," Janeway said. "If anyone's interested."
"Transporter room," Tuvok said. "Please report!"
Lieutenant Carey's voice came back quickly. "Bridge, we are engaging now."
***
Janeway stared at the towering underground walls, and the hardened ocean of lava that stretched out before her. She wouldn't die alone, but that was little comfort. She glanced down, eyeing the time readout on her tricorder: fifteen seconds, fourteen. "It wasn't supposed to work out like this," she said.
Chakotay looked at her. "I know. Don't give up," he said, following her gaze. "We've still got... six seconds."
Janeway started to speak, but the words froze on her lips as she and Chakotay dematerialized. "Five," she said, as she found herself standing on Voyager's transporter pad.
"We've got them!" Carey shouted.
"Captain," Tuvok's voice said from the intercom, "you are needed on the bridge."
Janeway still held her tricorder in her hand. She glanced down: two... one... zero. "Bridge, are you reading anything on the planet?"
"We are registering detonation, Captain," Stephens responded.
"Thank you." Janeway closed her eyes and took a slow, deep breath. In the ancient cavern beneath the surface of Drenar Four the antimatter explosion had ruptured the lava dome, allowing hot magma to flow back up, reforming the molten underground lake. No instruments told Janeway this was so. She just knew. She looked at Chakotay and saw the same certainty reflected in his eyes.
She couldn't help returning his mild grin of satisfaction.
"We'll be right there," Chakotay said. He turned to Carey.
"Beam us directly to the bridge."
Janeway cleared her throat as the bridge appeared all around her and her first officer. They were greeted by a chorus of welcomes.
"Mr. Paris," Janeway said, still allowing herself a soft smile, "that was nice work. All of you," she added, looking about.
"The shields are on line," B'Elanna said half a moment after that.
"I've got them up to sixty percent, but I can't do much better than that."