Marooned - Christie Golden [84]
He placed his hands on the console, trying to drum up the wherewithal to try, again, and activate the damned things. He was just about to start when suddenly the console lit up with vibrant colors in strange patterns.
"Harry-"
"I know, I'm getting it too." Kim couldn't keep the excitement from his voice.
"What the hell did you do?"
"Nothing!" As he watched, dumbfounded, incredibly grateful that all of this strange activity was being recorded, hums and clicks issued forth.
"Carey to Kim. Something's going on with-"
"I know, Carey, we're getting it over here as well. Record it and let's just see how it plays out before we do anything."
To Kim's stunned delight, what was clearly a code began to scroll across the screen. Kim couldn't stop smiling. Someone from the planet was activating the ships, and once he had that code, Kim suspected he could override any commands from here.
Finally, something was going right for a change. He hit his commbadge. "Kim to Voyager. Commander, I've got some very good news."
Kim's news was indeed very good, and Chakotay felt the smile, unbidden, stretch its pleased way across his face. "Well done, Harry. But keep playing dead. I don't want to tip our hand unless it's absolutely necessary. Be ready to jump when I tell you."
"How high, Commander.?" The voice on the other end of the commlink was as full of delight as Chakotay's own.
"I'll let you know."
"Commander," and Henley's voice was urgent. "The field and the ion storm have been deactivated. The Ja'in have launched six ships, sir." She glanced up at her commander. "They're finally coming for US."
"And their timing couldn't be better," Chakotay replied instantly, although the smile had vanished from his face. He leaned forward, his body taut and alert.
For just a moment, he had a flashback to his harsh days as a Maquis commander. He, more than any of the original crew of Voyager, had a good idea of how the Ja'in and Aren Yashar would think and operate. Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise that the bridge was now staffed not with Starfleet-trained officers but with former Maquis.
Set a thief to catch a thief Chakotay mused wryly. He spoke his thoughts aloud, so that his crew would be privy to the process.
"They're launching six ships now, plus they think they've still got control over the three sentinel ships they've just activated, which, as we've seen, are pretty formidable," he said. "What they don't know is we've beaten them to the punch. Henley, hail the lead vessel."
At once, Aren Yashar's smirking, handsome countenance filled the screen. "Ah, Commander Chakotay. I'd say what a pleasure it is to see you again, but I think it would have been best had you left while you still had a chance."
"I wouldn't overestimate myself, Yashar, if I were you," replied Chakotay.
Aren's lips thinned and his purple eyes flashed anger. "Surrender and prepare to be boarded. I have had enough of toying with you. The game is about to end."
Chakotay lounged in the command chair, his body posture bespeaking utter confidence. He laughed aloud. "I don't think so."
Aren locked gazes with Chakotay for a moment longer, then made a motion with his right hand. Another Ja'in came forward, and Chakotay felt his body tense as he saw what-who-Aren's crewman thrust toward the screen.
It was Paris. He looked dreadful. Pale, eyes glazed, there was an unhealthy green tendril twining its vile path up his collar and across his face. His lips were white, and he clearly could not stand on his own.
Aren maneuvered into center stage again, thrusting his face close toward the screen. "Janeway. Tiavok. Torres. Neelix. Bokk. Paris." He ticked them off on his fingers as he spoke. "We have them all. Lieutenant Paris was the only one even left fit to stand. Make no mistake, Commander. I will kill them if you do not cooperate."
Chakotay's