Unworthy - Kirsten Beyer [112]
“Reg,” the Doctor interrupted his thoughts as he studied the transmission he had just received from Voyager. His heart began to pound furiously when he realized that not one, but eight anomalous signals had been present aboard the shuttle when Voyager’s sensors lost track of it. “You’ve locked out all of the emergency holographic personnel. I need them brought back online at once.”
“Of course,” Reg replied, unable to accept the magnitude of the mistake he had just made. He rescinded his lockout authorization and barely noted the huff of frustration as the Doctor left.
They’ll never understand, Barclay thought sadly. And it’s all my fault.
With leaden feet he departed the transporter room to report to Commander Glenn. The peril in which Galen, Voyager, and Hawking now found themselves barely registered. He was now certain that whatever the Indign were about to throw at them, it could not compare with the fury he had just unleashed upon the Delta quadrant.
“Ensign Lawry?”
“Helm control has been fully restored,” Lawry replied, though his voice held a tinge of uncertainty, considering what was bearing down upon all of them.
“Extrapolate probable intercept and move us clear. One-quarter impulse,” Glenn ordered. “Ensign Drur, prepare to coordinate with Doctor Sharak on Voyager and Doctor Lamar aboard Hawking. Advise them that we stand ready to receive incoming wounded as necessary.”
As these maneuvers were flawlessly executed, Glenn felt herself relaxing. The last few hours had been hell, wondering if she’d regain control of her ship. Now that she had, her job became a little simpler.
The fleet had rehearsed a number of combat scenarios that would make the most effective use of the Galen’s unique abilities. Their armaments and defenses were sufficient to aid other fleet vessels, but only as a last resort. Their primary function was to remain out of the fray. Dozens of flight patterns had been created that would allow the Galen to execute sharp flybys. Shield frequencies were designated that would drop at five-second intervals to transport wounded.
The bridge turbolift opened, and Glenn turned to see Lieutenant Barclay enter as if in a stupor. “Lieutenant,” she said firmly, “when I order you to report to the bridge, I expect to see you here as soon as possible.”
“I’m … I’m sorry, Captain,” Barclay stammered.
Clearly he was upset. Now wasn’t the time to dress him down.
“Meegan is no longer aboard,” he offered with obvious regret.
“Where did she go?”
“She transported to Voyager and departed in one of their shuttles. It’s too late to track her now.”
Glenn nodded. She knew what Meegan was now, a weapon set loose on the quadrant.
One disaster at a time, she told herself.
“It’s likely that in the next few minutes, we’re going to need to access all of our supplemental holographic personnel,” Glenn said. “I’d like you to coordinate with Velth, Benoit, and the Doctor from the bridge.”
“Aye, Captain.” Barclay nodded curtly.
“And Reg?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Don’t worry. When all this is done, we’ll find Meegan.”
He didn’t look like he believed her, but managed a faint smile nonetheless before moving to the rear interface beside tactical controls. From here he could easily access transport protocols.
Raising her voice, Glenn said, “All right, folks. This isn’t a drill. Everybody take a deep breath, and stand ready.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Cambridge stared at the sleeping form of Seven of Nine. He knew that the feelings that accompanied this lovely vision were inappropriate to the doctor-patient relationship. He promised himself that he would bury them as soon as she awoke. In the meantime, however, a little fantasizing never hurt anyone.
It had been a long time since Hugh had found a woman fascinating. He’d met many who were intelligent, attractive, and quite successful in their professional pursuits. He’d made it a habit of sharing his private time