Ghost of a Chance - Mark Garland [91]
"Make them think it isn't dangerous," B'Elanna said, backing up the idea.
"That might buy us a little extra time," Janeway agreed.
"But won't they see us launch the probe?" Kes asked.
"Yes, unless..." Paris said slowly, allowing the thought to form behind his darting eyes.
"Unless?" Janeway prodded.
"Well," Paris said, shrugging, "they followed us around one moon.
They just might follow us around another. Once more around the horn?"
Janeway felt a twinge of satisfaction as all the pieces of the plan seemed to gather. "How long before the rest of the Televek fleet arrives?"
"Approximately twenty-one minutes," Tuvok answered.
"At this rate, our shields will be gone by then," B'Elanna reminded everyone.
Janeway nodded. She looked at the main screen once more, at the second moon coming into view in the distance, larger than the one they were leaving behind. "Mr. Paris, lay in a course for that moon. Take us around it. B'Elanna, ready that probe."
Voyager shook as the pursuing Televek cruiser found her again with full weapons fire. Lieutenant Torres sprang from her station, remarkably sure-footed under the circumstances, and sprinted off the bridge.
***
"They're going around behind the second moon," Tatel reported.
"Do we follow?"
"Yes, of course, but continue to maintain distance," Daket said.
"They are an unusually resourceful lot, a lesson many of our colleagues have already paid dearly to learn." Daket sat back, waiting out the maneuver. He planned to have his own last lessons taught to him at a great price by one of the lovely and talented aquatic masseurs of Troevsta Prime.
"The Federation ship has entered a shallow lunar orbit," Tatel announced a moment later. "Matching now."
Daket watched the small, sunlit white dot that was Voyager go dark and disappear behind the great looming moon just ahead. Out of sight. Out of range. It didn't matter. He could play the game for another few minutes, which was all he needed to do. He had already begun to relax, telling himself that the worst was over, and the best, by his estimation, was coming very shortly.
"Orbit acquired."
"Be prepared for any sort of surprise," Daket cautioned.
Tatel nodded. "Their ion trail is steady. They have yet to deviate from their projected course and speed."
Daket took subtle comfort in that. It was short-lived. A proximity alarm sounded softly from several consoles. Daket tapped at his panels, studying the displays. He found what he was looking for, a very small contact directly below the cruiser, rising, moving steadily into a low lunar orbit. "Analysis."
"It appears to be a probe of some kind, sublight, compact, unarmed," Tatel said. "Is there any record of probes associated with Drenar Four's defensive system?" Daket asked.
"Checking now," Tatel responded. They waited while computer file data was searched. Nothing turned up.
"The probe is rising directly off our stern," Tatel said, obviously growing somewhat concerned. "Closing to one hundred thousand meters.
It is emitting a beacon signal of some kind.
The frequency doesn't match anything in the computer."
"A beacon?" Daket said.
"It poses no immediate threat," Tatel went on. "It isn't even scanning us. Nonetheless, I recommend we begin reconfiguring the rear shields."
"That would take too long, and if the probe is from Voyager, that may be exactly what their captain wants us to do. A trick designed to make us vulnerable to their attack. They must be desperate by now, and they are nearly out of time."
Tatel was silent now. She hadn't thought of that.
Daket smiled to himself, then leaned back in his chair. This was not the time to start taking chances. He felt a mild glow of satisfaction, and he did not intend to let it go cold just yet.
He would be hailed as a hero and promoted, and he would grow rich if anything at all came of this