Resistance - J.M. Dillard [61]
“Lieutenant,” he said, “you are acting chief of security.” He paused. “For the moment, however, you are critically needed at the helm. Keep the ship’s course completely random. We can’t allow the captain to anticipate the Enterprise’s next move before we retrieve him.”
He watched as the light went out of her, so that only the dark remained. “Yes, sir,” she answered quietly and returned to her work.
As he turned to move toward the door, he caught T’Lana’s defiant glare in his direction. If she had been of any other race, Worf would have sworn he saw a look of smugness as a reminder that she had anticipated the worst. She said nothing as Worf swept past her to the turbolift, but the condemnation was still there. As if she was blaming him for what was happening.
By the time she arrived in the holding area, Beverly was numb. She had forced herself to be so, allowing herself to think only of what needed to be immediately done. She had prepared a hypo of nanites that would reverse Jean-Luc’s transformation into a drone, and while she would inject him with it immediately—along with a strong sedative to prevent him from attacking—she intended to repair or replace the neutralizer chip as quickly as possible. It would immediately free Jean-Luc from the influence of the Collective so that she would not have to restrain him while the nanites did their work.
Worf and three armed security guards stood waiting for her beside the bed that had been placed in the cell. The Klingon’s expression was one of fierce determination. Crusher didn’t ask whether he intended to put any distance between the Enterprise and the Borg ship—especially after the attack—but she certainly didn’t see any signs of retreat in his eyes.
He directed a single sharp glance at Beverly by way of acknowledgment. “Do you have a sedative ready, Doctor?”
Beverly silently produced the hypospray from the pocket of her lab coat and displayed it.
“Phasers on stun,” Worf told the security team and raised his own; the four took aim at the empty bed. The Klingon tapped his combadge. “Ensign Luptowski…?”
“Ready, sir,” the young voice replied. “The captain’s communicator is disabled, but the signal from the transponder is clear.”
“Beam him aboard.”
As the transporter beam began to shimmer, Beverly braced herself. She would be prepared, she told herself, for the dull, inhuman look in Locutus’s eyes.
But she was not prepared for what she saw.
The glimmering miasma of the beam cleared…but no one lay on the bed. Worf spoke into the air again. “Ensign? Was there a malfunction?”
“No, sir,” Luptowski answered.
Beverly and Worf approached the bed. Beverly leaned in and reached a hand toward the three items that lay there, arranged in a neat row: the transponder she had placed in Jean-Luc’s right temple; his communicator, mangled and scarred, as if someone had tried to saw it in half; and the neutralizer chip, marred by a single dark drop of blood.
She failed to touch them. A sudden roar, so loud she could not hear her own cry of pain and surprise, reverberated in her skull; a millisecond later, the deck pitched sideways. Her ribs struck the edge of the bed, her outstretched hand flattening against the now-empty bed. She was aware, in the chaos, of Worf beside her, struggling for purchase, his legs tangling briefly with hers.
The ship righted itself with a lurch. Beverly pushed herself up and scrambled across the platform to retrieve the items so freshly removed from Jean-Luc’s person. As she did, Worf got to his feet and pressed his combadge.
“Worf to bridge!” Silence. Clutching the precious chips, Beverly turned toward the Klingon. Worf scowled and thumped his combadge again. “Worf to bridge! Commander La Forge, report!”
Silence again, and then static.
The blast blinded Nave and hurled her sideways from her chair onto the deck. She tried to draw in air and couldn’t; her ribs responded with a sickening jolt of pain.
Don’t panic, don’t panic, just got the wind knocked out of you…
Her first instinct was to get back to her station, back to the conn. She blinked hard, but