Pathways - Jeri Taylor [33]
He and his crew, which had grown now to a small but fierce band of some fifteen hardened, well-trained members, had heard that a rogue Cardassian ship had put down on one of the uninhabited planets in the demilitarized zone. It seemed clear that they were going to establish a settlement there, in clear defiance of the Federation treaty. Chakotay had determined that they would make that decision a regrettable one.
Surveillance had told them that the Cardassian band was small, not more than twenty, and was clustered together in a tropical forest in the southern hemisphere. As usual, Chakotay and Seska were in conflict about just what to do.
“They don’t realize we know they’re on the surface,” she said spiritedly. “They don’t have a ship in orbit and they won’t expect us. We could annihilate them all with one photon torpedo.”
“In the first place, we only have three torpedoes. I’d rather save them for the times we really need them. In the second place, I have no intention of slaughtering them—just letting them know we won’t let them put down roots here.”
She looked at him with unconcealed contempt, an expression she had perfected. “I didn’t realize you were so gutless, Chakotay. Are you willing to be so chivalrous to the people who massacred your family?”
“I won’t sink to their level.”
The argument raged for some time, as their arguments usually did, but in the end Chakotay prevailed. They would quietly encircle the Cardassian camp, spike the perimeter with their own isotane gas, and ignite it. The Cardassians would be forced to transport well away from the area or be asphyxiated. They would not be injured, but would get the unmistakable message that their presence wouldn’t be tolerated. Seska had acquired enough of the deadly gas on the black market to allow them to repeat this maneuver several times, until the Cardassians abandoned the planet.
Chakotay and five others—not including Seska, whom he left in charge on the ship—transported to the surface under cover of darkness. Their sensors had indicated that the Cardassians were all within the camp, probably eating and getting ready for bed. They had been safely ensconced for several weeks and had become relaxed, assuming that since no one had bothered them so far, no one would.
The group spread in a ring around the small settlement, each armed with canisters of isotane gas. When they were set, the others would transport back to the ship and Chakotay would stay behind a moment longer, in order to ignite them.
The jungle was a fetid place, devoid of animal life, rank with the odor of rotting plants. Why the Cardassians had chosen this location was something of a mystery, but Chakotay assumed it was precisely because it was so unlikely. It took him nearly half an hour to set his canisters, because making his way through the slimy undergrowth was time-consuming. Although the planet had a sizable moon, a cloud cover partially obscured it, and there was little ambient light, making his progress even more difficult.
Finally he had placed the final canister, and received the brief signal from each of the others that they had done the same. He returned the signal that would transport them to the Liberty, and then prepared to ignite the isotane.
It would require activating the first canister simultaneously with the second, after which a chain reaction would set off the others in the huge circle. He had synchronized the transponder on the second unit, and was on his way back to the first, one part of his mind wondering what kind of decaying plant could produce such a malodorous smell.
Suddenly the ground opened beneath him and he plunged straight down.
He crumpled to the floor of a pit that he estimated to be about twice his height. Mercifully, it had contained no spikes, no acid bath, none of the surprises Cardassians had been known to put at the bottom of their traps. He looked up toward the opening, where the faint light afforded by the moon created a small rectangle of gray. It didn’t look so far; he might be able to climb out, which he preferred