Possession - J.M. Dillard [28]
“Federation Captain!” the Ferengi shouted in a panic, “do not take the Vulcan aboard your vessel! You must leave this area! Get away! Get away! You are not safe! None of us are safe! He’s a madman! My brother—”
Picard signaled Worf to cut the audio on the ranting alien and turned to the counselor for an interpretation.
“He’s terrified,” Deanna told the captain. “He fears for us. For our safety. But he is so hysterical, I can’t get anything more than that.”
Picard turned to Riker.
“Do you think he knows about the threat of the disease?” Riker speculated.
“Do you think there’s a chance he has it?” Picard shot back. He touched his comm badge. “Dr. Crusher, do we have the scientist Skel in the quarantine unit? And if so, what is his condition?”
“He’s here, sir,” came Crusher’s assuring voice. “His research artifacts are safely contained in the lab and seem undamaged. And except for a bit of wear and tear, Master Scientist Skel appears in perfect health. The biofilters found nothing, and intensive scans reveal nothing, either. He’s lucid and calm, if a little tired.”
Picard glanced at Troi.
“I sense nothing but normal Vulcan composure,” Deanna said.
“Do we have another quarantine unit available, Doctor?” Picard asked Crusher. “We have a Ferengi aboard the vessel who is in questionable condition.”
“Another unit is in place, sir,” Crusher told him.
“Mr. Worf, restore audio, please,” the captain requested.
“—not listening to me, Federation Captain! You don’t understand the danger! You don’t know about—”
“Thank you for your warning,” Picard said forcefully, interrupting the Ferengi’s diatribe. “We would like to beam you aboard our ship, to determine the status of your health. We will beam over your deceased crewmate for an autopsy.”
The eyes of the wild Ferengi opened even wider. “No! No, you mustn’t beam us over! And you must return the Vulcan and his artifacts! You cannot—”
Picard was about at the end of his patience. “Now listen here—we are going to beam you onto our ship, whether you come willingly or not. Once you are aboard this vessel, you will be placed under arrest for kidnapping, theft, violation of interplanetary treaties—” Picard ground to a halt as the little alien suddenly plunged his hands into the battered control panel and began working furiously. “Lieutenant Worf, what is he doing?”
Worf paused for a second, then said, incredulously, “He—he’s opening the plasma conduits of his batteries, and flooding the battery storage area with an incendiary gas!”
Picard turned to the tactical station, but before he could bark an order, Riker shouted, “Disengage tractor beam! Shields up!”
The captain was peripherally aware of Data, La Forge, and Worf working in concert to obey that command, just as the Ferengi bridge still pictured on their viewscreen turned into a fireball of light so brilliant that Picard raised a hand to shield his eyes. He realized that the tractor beam had been disengaged, and the shields engaged at precisely the right moment, as the ship rocked from the small explosion happening so close to her, but was unharmed. A second later, there was nothing on the viewscreen but the image of space, and a small cloud of debris.
“The Ferengi vessel, sir,” Worf announced, “is no more.”
Why? Picard wondered, baffled. “Did you get any clear motivation from him, Counselor?”
She seemed thoroughly shaken by the destruction of the ship; Riker noticed it, too, and took her by the elbow and led her to a chair. She eased herself into it while collecting her thoughts. “His mental panic is hard to describe. There was a flood of images right at the end—his love for his brother, his grief over his death—”
The deceased Ferengi, Picard thought.
“—a residual terror of being pursued by the Vulcan, and a terrible fear of being beamed