The Brave And The Bold Book Two Part 9

Turning to the ops officer, Voyskunsky said, "Jose, I want you tracking that transponder signal every second. If anything happens to the signal-it changes, it modulates, and especially if it goes away-beam him out of there immediately."

"Will do," Kojima said with a nod.

"Let's. .h.i.t it," DeSoto said. "The bridge is yours, Dina. I hope to be back soon. I still want a rematch of that Go game."

Voyskunsky grinned her huge smile. "You're on, Captain."

Hudson gathered Chakotay, Tuvok, Mastroeni, Torres, Seska, and McAdams in the mess hall. Tuvok stood against one of the walls by the door, and both Chakotay and Hudson stood with their backs to the rear bulkhead. The other four sat around the largest of the tables. Torres had a padd in her hand, while Mastroeni's hand hovered near her phaser. Hudson noticed that Mastroeni had made a point of sitting where she could keep an eye on Tuvok.

"Your friend," Hudson said to Chakotay, "has gone over the edge."

"And he's going to take the rest of us with him," Mastroeni added.

"These two colonies are peaceful-they're not affiliated with the Federation, Carda.s.sia, or the Maquis. If we let him-"

Chakotay interrupted Hudson. "We're not going to 'let' him do anything. We have to get the artifact back. If we don't, the Maquis will lose whatever sympathy we have in the Federation. Starfleet and Central Command will come out in force against us."

Tuvok added, "In addition, such a radical departure from the usual methods will divide the Maquis itself. From what I have seen, the organization is already relatively fractious-in part by design. By committing genocide in the Maquis's name-"

"We know what'll happen," Torres snapped. "Chakotay's right, we have to get the artifact back."

Mastroeni shook her head. "The nanosecond we come out from behind this moon, the Hood' ll be all over us."

Seska nodded. "She's right. I for one have no interest in spending the rest of my life in a Federation prison."

"Actually, we won't have to leave our hiding place," Torres said. "I can boost the gain on the transporter so we can get to the surface from here. We'll have to go down one at a time, but I can do it."

Chakotay nodded. "Good. Then we can go in, get the artifact, and get out before DeSoto even knows we're there."

"Even if he does know we're there, it won't matter much," Seska said. "You heard his deal with Tharia-he's going down alone. Starfleet captains are usually just stupid enough to actually live up to promises like that."

Chakotay snorted in what Hudson supposed was agreement, then turned to Torres. "Have you finished that mini-transponder to put on the artifact?"

Torres nodded. "I made four of them, just in case." She grinned. "Amazing what you can do with a few solenoid transtators."

"I have an additional suggestion," Tuvok said.

"As if we care," Mastroeni muttered.

Hudson shot Mastroeni a look, then said, "What's your thought, Tuvok?"

"We do as Captain Chakotay suggests-but turn the artifact over to Captain DeSoto."

"We're not giving that thing to Starfleet!" Mastroeni said.

"Starfleet has a general order in place that compels them to confiscate the artifacts. If we take possession of it, then we become a target. The Hood will not leave the Demilitarized Zone until they have completed their mission: to retrieve the artifact." He turned to Hudson and Chakotay. "In addition, it will show Starfleet that Tharia is, in fact, a rogue who does not speak for the Maquis as an organization."

Chakotay looked at Hudson. Unlike Mastroeni-or Torres or Seska, for that matter-Chakotay had, like Hudson, worn a Starfleet uniform. The Federation might have betrayed the people of the DMZ, but Hudson knew that, in some matters, Starfleet could be trusted. Hudson a.s.sumed that Chakotay felt the same.

"Much as I hate to admit it, Starfleet's better equipped to handle that thing than we are," Chakotay said after a moment. "They've already got two of them, and knowing them, they'll probably dig up the fourth one before long. And frankly-I don't want it. It's already turned one of my trusted comrades into a psychotic killing machine. And Tuvok's right about something else-Tharia's done tremendous damage to the cause with what he just said to DeSoto. We have to nip that in the bud before the Hood reports back to Starfleet that we've all turned into maniacs. I think capturing the artifact and then handing it to DeSoto will accomplish that." He smiled wryly. "Besides, I get the feeling we may have to rescue the good captain from Tharia before the day is out. Starfleet captains may be stupid sometimes, but they also usually are properly grateful."

Hudson considered. Then he looked at Mastroeni and McAdams. The latter nodded quickly. "Darleen?" he prompted.

Predictably, she snarled. "I don't want to do anything to help Starfleet."

"I don't see that we have a choice here."

For the first time since he'd met her, Darleen Mastroeni smiled. "Oh, there's always a choice, Cal-just a question of making the right one or not." She then sighed. "All right, fine. We do it this way. I'm in."

Chakotay gave his own people the same look.

"I'm in," Torres said with no hesitation.

"We should just destroy the thing," Seska said.

"It has been attempted," Tuvok said.

Undaunted, Seska said, "Then I say we attempt it again."

"And when we fail?" Chakotay asked.

Seska folded her arms. "Then we give it to Starfleet."

"All right," Hudson said. "Chakotay and I will beam down, along with Tuvok." He cut off Mastroeni before she could object. "I know you don't trust him, Darleen, but he knows these artifacts better than any of us." He turned to the others. "We'll each wear one of Torres's mini-transponders so she can pick us up again. The fourth'll go on the artifact, just in case we need to confiscate it for a while." Looking at Chakotay, he said, "I want to keep my options open."

"Agreed. Let's do it."

Chapter Eight.

THE FIRST TIME CAL HUDSON went through a transporter, he was four years old and he thought it was the most wonderful sensation in the world. One second he was standing on an indoor transporter platform, the next he was in the middle of Central Park in New York City. His father had promised young Cal a ride on the famous carousel, but the four-year-old boy had found the mode of getting to the attraction more exciting. The entire time he sat going around on the artificial horses, he was waiting for it to end so he could go through the transporter again.

In the intervening years, he had tried to keep that same sense of wonder about this mode of travel, though years in Starfleet-where transporters were used almost as often as turbolifts-had dulled it somewhat. Still, he always loved that feeling of moving instantly from one place to another place, watching the world dissolve and re-form.

Beaming down to Slaybis IV from the Liberator, however, was more like watching the world dissolve and then dissolve further.

Rain pelted his face while intense wind slammed into his chest. Instinctively, his right arm went up to protect his eyes. Within seconds, his clothes were soaked through, sticking to his flesh. He was almost afraid to open his mouth to speak.

He squinted under his upheld arm-which was doing precious little to protect his eyes-and saw Chakotay and Tuvok in a similarly bedraggled state.

Just as he was about to scream out if there was shelter nearby, the wind started to die down and the rain lightened.

Hudson lowered his arm. "That Malkus Artifact doesn't do things halfway, does it?"

Chakotay looked up just as the clouds started to clear. "This is definitely not natural."

Within seconds, Hudson had to raise his arm again, this time to s.h.i.+eld his eyes from the rays of Slaybis that now beat down on its fourth planet's surface. "I hate to think what this is doing to the planet's ecosystem."

"Nothing good, I can tell you that."

"I just wish Torres could've put us down indoors."

"Look around, Hudson," Chakotay said, indicating the area with one arm. "There's not much indoors left."

Following Chakotay's gesture, Hudson took stock of his surroundings. He saw no evidence of habitation-whether people were dead or evacuated was impossible to tell-but plenty of evidence of damage. None of the nearby buildings were especially tall, but all were distressed to some degree or other: broken windows, scarred facades, missing doors and parts of roofs. What especially concerned Hudson were the cracks in many of the buildings' superstructures. a.s.suming they were constructed from the usual building materials-plastiform, rodinium, and the like-they shouldn't have cracked like that. Yeah, Hudson thought after a second, and the Geronimo's hull shouldn't have buckled from the inside, either.

Chakotay turned to Tuvok, who had taken out his Starfleet tricorder. "Can you get any readings?"

"Give me a moment, please," Tuvok said as he peered down at the instrument. "I'm afraid the tricorder's response time is not what it was."

Hudson smiled, but made no apologies. When Tuvok came on board, Mastroeni had confiscated the tricorder, and wouldn't give it back to the Vulcan until after McAdams had literally taken it apart to look for bugs, transmitters, or anything else that could be used against the Maquis. It turned out to be clean, and McAdams-a moderately skilled tinkerer-had managed to put it back together, but apparently not at one hundred percent.

Sweat was now intermingled with the rainwater on Hudson's brow. Amazingly, there was very little humidity in the air, given the recent precipitation, but the temperature had shot up. Where moments ago he had felt like he was in the tropics during monsoon season, now he felt like he was in the middle of the desert.

"I am not reading any Andorian life signs in the immediate vicinity."

"d.a.m.n," Chakotay muttered. "Did he move?"

"Unlikely. I am also not picking up any Starfleet combadges in the vicinity-however, there is other evidence to suggest that both Captain DeSoto and Tharia ch'Ren are present. I am receiving the emissions from the Malkus Artifact, as well as a lowlevel signal from a Starfleet transponder. Both are emanating from an area that has no life readings-or any other significant readings of any kind." He looked up. "The logical deduction would be that Tharia is, as promised, using a forcefield. However, while the forcefield is able to keep out the relatively pa.s.sive signals generated by bioreadings and combadges, it cannot deter the more active signals of the artifact or the transponder."

Chakotay nodded. "DeSoto probably brought the transponder so his s.h.i.+p can keep in touch with him. Smart move."

"Yeah." Hudson turned to Tuvok. "How far are they?"

"Approximately half a kilometer northwest of here."

"Let's get to it, then, before the weather changes again," Hudson said as he started to walk northwest.

That hope was in vain. Before they'd gone ten meters, the temperature plummeted and the skies clouded up. The sweat and rainwater cooled against Hudson's skin. Within two more steps, the snow started.

"I suggest we take shelter until this pa.s.ses," Tuvok said.

Hudson started to say that they couldn't afford to wait, but then the snow reached the intensity level of the rain-as did the wind. He also found that he couldn't speak because his teeth were chattering. So instead he simply ran toward the closest structure: what looked like a residential building.

The front door slid open about halfway, then made a screeching noise.

"The metal has been warped," Tuvok said.

"G-g-get ins-side," Hudson said, squeezing between the door and its frame. Chakotay and Tuvok did likewise-both were smaller of build than Hudson, so they had an easier time of it-and then the door shut. The building's lobby was a utilitarian affair: a square room with walls painted beige. The back wall was lined with a series of turbolifts; a few hideous paintings sat dolefully on the two side walls, broken only by a computer interface that no doubt allowed visitors to communicate with residents. A plush beige carpet took up the entire floor. Hudson decided it was the most boring room he'd ever been in.

"W-wish we'd beamed down a medikit," Hudson said, trying to warm himself with his arms and failing miserably. His hair felt odd-no doubt the water there from the rain had frozen into ice-and his skin felt like one giant goose b.u.mp. "We'll get pneumonia at this rate."

Tuvok checked his tricorder. "It is a possibility-unfortunately, this is not a medical tricorder."

Nodding, Hudson turned to Chakotay. "Have you given any thought to what we might have to do today?"

"I'm not sure what you mean," he replied stoically, not looking at Hudson.

"Yes, you do."

"All right, so maybe I do," Chakotay snapped, turning toward Hudson, his jaw set. "If I have to, I'll kill him, but I'd like to avoid it if I can."

"I know that," Hudson said, grateful that he was now warm enough that he could talk normally without forcing himself to enunciate without stuttering from the s.h.i.+vers. "But it's never easy to take up arms against your comrades-or your friends." He hesitated. "Last year, right after we started the Maquis, I had to face off against my oldest friend-my best friend. He was in a runabout, I was in the Liberator-and I realized that I might be put in a position where I'd have to kill my friend."

"What happened?"

Chuckling, Hudson said, "Actually, it was never an issue. Ben won the fight. I was in bad shape, turning tail and running." Hudson looked at Chakotay. "The funny thing is, Ben did have the opportunity to fire on me. He could've disabled me, destroyed me-but he let me go. He faced the test and couldn't do it. Funny thing is, I wasn't sure I would've done the same thing in his place."

"There's a big difference," Chakotay said. "I a.s.sume that 'Ben' is Commander Sisko of Deep s.p.a.ce 9?"

Hudson nodded.

"He's not a freedom fighter-he's just a soldier. He was doing his job, nothing more. You were fighting for a cause." He smiled. "Besides, Starfleet's always been big on the lost cause. There's no problem they can't solve-so they let you live, because they think you can be 'cured.'" Chakotay sighed. "I wish they were right, most of the time."

Hudson found he had nothing to add to that, so he turned to the Vulcan. "You picking up any life signs in the building?"

"Negative."

"Hm." He walked over to the computer interface, his clothes and hair dripping water onto the carpet. He touched the black surface, and it lit up.

"Computer, was this building evacuated?"

"Please identify yourself."

"Calvin Hudson. I'm a visitor to Slaybis IV."

There was a pause while that information was processed. "The munic.i.p.ality of Slaybis Central is in a state of emergency. All citizens have been evacuated. Your presence in this building is unauthorized. Please depart immediately or this unit will alert Law Enforcement."

Tuvok looked up. "The temperature is once again rising, and the snow has stopped. I would suggest that we follow the computer's directive."

"Yeah." As Hudson moved toward the door, he pointed at Chakotay's phaser. "Let's hope you won't need to use that-or make that choice."

The door to the building didn't open any further than it had before, but they managed to get through. At least now they knew why the capital city-Slaybis Central? What bureaucrat thought that was a good name for a town? he wondered-seemed like a ghost town: it was.

Again, the heat of the sun bore down on the city streets, melting the snow that had already started to acc.u.mulate. Now, however, the humidity had not died down. "This," Hudson said, "is getting tiresome."

"Isn't there an old joke about how if you don't like the weather, wait five minutes?" Chakotay said with a small smile.

"The quote is often attributed to a human author named Samuel Clemens, who wrote under the name Mark Twain," Tuvok said without hesitating. "It was an attempt to humorously convey the inconsistent weather patterns of San Francisco-illogical, as that city has an unusually even climate for an Earth city."

"Twain was big on illogic," Hudson said with a grin. "C'mon, let's move."

Why are you talking? You must destroy!