Unworthy - Kirsten Beyer [109]
“I was waiting in Galen’s transporter room and noted that she and Voyager simultaneously dropped their shields. I took the opportunity when I saw it.”
Batiste observed in the seat next to him a soft, mesh bag filled with what appeared to be metallic canisters.
“What are those?” he demanded. If they were other captured consciousnesses, his former comrades might one day have to reckon with more than one “Meegan,” and as far as he was concerned, one was one too many.
“They are none of your concern,” she replied in a voice that left no room for further inquiries.
Nodding, Batiste slipped the shuttle gracefully from the shuttlebay and set course to the rift that promised peace, sanctuary, and the only existence he had ever known worth experiencing.
Eden was halfway across the bridge before she realized that Chakotay was standing before her chair. She pulled herself up short and was about to take Paris to task when Lasren called out, “Admiral Batiste’s shuttle has cleared Voyager, Captain.”
“Let him go,” she replied.
The woman on the viewscreen was familiar. Suddenly, Eden realized why Chakotay was aboard. She approved of Tom’s swift action.
Stepping between them she said, “I’m Captain Afsarah Eden. It is a pleasure to meet you. As you have chosen to assume human form for this contact, may I call you Miss Archer?”
Valerie’s face expressed surprise and puzzlement as her eyes met Chakotay’s. He offered a subtle nod and she turned haughtily back to address the captain.
“You may,” she replied.
“Captain,” Kim called softly from the tactical station, “our shuttle has been captured by a tractor beam emanating from Miss Archer’s vessel.”
“Split the screen. Give me a visual,” Eden replied.
Kim did so, and in an instant, the right half of the viewscreen showed the shuttle hanging dead in space, engulfed in a bright green web of energy. The other half retained Valerie’s composed countenance.
“The shuttle you have captured contains one of your people,” Eden offered. “He has gone to great lengths to return home. It is our fervent hope that you will allow him to do so.”
“As I have already explained to Chakotay, that will not be possible,” Valerie replied.
“Why not?” Eden asked, surprised by her anger.
“He accepted his mission long ago, knowing it was a oneway trip. His inability to accept that now is of no importance. It took us years to purge our space of the contamination brought about by Borg and Federation incursions. We will not intentionally pollute it further now for one who is unwilling to do his duty.”
“What will you do with him?” Eden asked, fear creeping into her voice.
“ I will gladly destroy his vessel if you are not up to the task,” Valerie replied.
“No,” Chakotay interjected before Eden had the chance.
“I thought you said these were your people,” Meegan said, glaring at Batiste, incensed.
“They are,” he replied, his jaw set firmly.
“Then why have they trapped us in this tractor beam?” she demanded. “Shouldn’t they be overjoyed at your return?”
Batiste understood the corruption his human form would bring to their realm. The perfect balance between organic and fluidic matter was essential to the health of both and it would take considerable time to be fully restored to where his presence would not affect the delicate harmony.
“I will make them understand,” he assured her. “Can you take the helm?”
“Of course.”
“Then do it,” he said, brushing past her.
He had waited so long for what must come next, and anticipated it with such relish, it was almost anticlimactic to remove the hypo spray from the med-kit he carried with him at all times. A quick injection into the flesh of his thigh, and the isomorphic compound that had allowed him to maintain his human form was rendered inert.
With unrestrained joy he felt his uniform ripping to shreds as his true limbs were freed from years of confinement.
After a brief, disorienting moment as he steadied himself on shaking legs, he