Lost Era 05_ Deny thy Father - Jeff Mariotte [143]
Owen pursed his lips together. “That’s a tall order, but I think I know just the person. Wait here.”
Owen rose and crossed the situation room to where a small knot of his staffers were working through some computations. He leaned in close to one of them, a young woman with auburn hair swept up on top of her head, a few locks fallen to her cheeks as she worked. She glanced over at Kyle, who nodded subtly to her. Then, as Owen went to consult with another group, the young woman approached Kyle.
“Admiral Paris said you wanted to see me, sir?” Her voice was unexpectedly husky, and her green eyes flashed with barely contained mischief. She held out a hand. “My name is Ensign Kathryn Janeway.”
Chapter 37
“Yes, sir. I think we understand.”
Captain Pressman had been discussing their situation with Admiral Paris. Will was glad that Admiral Paris was involved-he had a lot of respect for Owen Paris, and he trusted the man’s survival skills. If they needed anything right now, it was a plan that would help them survive. He knew, though, that the Pegasus was not the most important thing on the table-it was Starfleet’s resolve that mattered most. Like everyone else on the bridge, Will understood that if they backed down and dealt for their lives, others would take advantage of the example they set.
But Admiral Paris, living up to Will’s trust, had offered them a plan that might just get them out of this. The other alternative, of course, was that it might get them killed. Doing nothing would accomplish that same goal; this would just speed things up a bit. Will didn’t see a reason not to try, and he hoped the captain would agree.
“Thoughts, people?” Pressman asked.
“I don’t like it,” Barry Chamish said. “Suicide never seems like a good idea to me, not when there might be another solution.”
“Is there another solution?” Shinnareth Bestor asked.
“Not that I can think of,” Chamish admitted. “But I also don’t want to admit defeat, and that’s what the admiral’s plan sounds like to me.”
“It just might work,” Will countered. “I think it has a better chance of working than anything else we’ve come up with.”
“You’ll be the one doing the heavy lifting, Will,” Captain Pressman said. “Most of it, at any rate. So if you’re comfortable with that…” He left the sentence unfinished. As the freshest face on the bridge, Will knew that a decision of this magnitude wasn’t really up to him. He appreciated being made to feel like he was part of the process, though.
“I can handle my end,” Will assured the captain. This earned him one of Pressman’s rare smiles. For such a rotten day, this one had its fringe benefits. He only hoped he might live long enough to look back on them fondly one day.
“I’m for it,” Rungius said.
“Same here,” Boylen put in.
Chamish looked horrified. “You’re asking us to kill ourselves!” he insisted. “How is that a good idea?”
“It’s a chance, at least,” Rungius argued. “One chance is better than none.”
“Agreed,” Bestor said simply.
“Very well, then,” Captain Pressman said. “This is a starship, not a democracy, and the majority of us are in agreement anyway. Mr. Dusefrene, hail Oxxreg, if you please.”
Will noticed that Dul Dusefrene’s hands quaked as she moved them across her control board. Since each of her hands had seven fingers, Will was reminded of a spastic spider when they shook. He wondered how many of the bridge crew had gone along with the plan because they didn’t want to appear cowardly, and how many genuinely were scared. Or if there was a difference.
And if there was, which camp he fell into.
When Oxxreg’s amphibianlike face appeared on the main viewscreen, Captain Pressman faced him, shoulders square, hands again clasped behind his back. “We have considered your offer,” the captain said. “And I’m here to tell you that there will be no deal.”
Oxxreg arched what would have been an eyebrow, had he possessed them, wrinkling his forehead. “Your superiors don’t care what happens to you?”
“They care,” Pressman argued. “But they care more about upholding Starfleet regulations. We are a neutral