Chapter 10
A.D. 2374
Location Unknown
To her credit, Shantok didn’t even blink when Adol’s phaser blasted a smoking hole in the floor next to her.
“The next shot is for you.” He centered his aim on her chest.
“If you’ll allow me to explain myself, you’ll see that I’m no imposter.”
He scowled in disbelief.
“What have you to lose? You can still kill me if you find my explanation lacking.”
His eyelids blinked rapidly, fueled by anxiety and indecisiveness.
“Commander?”
“All right! Talk to me then. But don’t even think about more treachery!”
She nodded. “I was suspicious from the beginning. Skulking about and holding a weapon on his fellow officers? The real Jellico would not behave so. And then, I noticed inconsistencies in his statements.”
“Such as what?”
“The admiral stated that communication channels were compromised to the extent that he was unable to advise O’Toole of our situation. But if that were true, how could she be in contact with the Starfleet commander who is currently off world? How could they both be putting together a ‘team from across the sector’ so quickly?”
Adol frowned.
“And then there were the command codes. The admiral insisted we use your codes for the transport, rather than his own. It’s illogical to think that a rear admiral’s codes would in some way be inferior to the ones O’Toole gave you. If anything, Jellico’s would have been of a higher order, if for no other reason, than his participation in the ‘investigation’.”
His frown deepened.
“Even more telling, when I entered my sleeping area to change, I took the opportunity to scan the apartment. Jellico stated that he beamed in, but the tricorder found no residual traces of transporter activity, indicating that he lied. This would make sense, given wartime protocols require clearance for transport within a secure area. Clearance he obviously didn’t have.”
“But it doesn’t make sense to
me. What would he have to gain by lying about the beam in?”
“He no doubt wanted to impart a feeling of urgency and dread. You should know, I also scanned the device he had with him, a device that could purportedly detect Changeling imposters.”
“You’re about to tell me it was a fake, aren’t you?”
“Indeed. What could be referred to as a ‘prop’. A hollow mechanism, built to display just enough surface activity to look convincing. It’s little wonder that he didn’t use it again when we arrived.”
“I think I’m more disappointed about that than anything. I really wanted one of those things.” His face remained hard. “But I’m still not convinced. You’ll have to do better.”
“You recall that I explained the true nature of my gifts? Once unleashed, they’re difficult to suppress again. My telepathic and empathic abilities have yet to fully recede.”
“Of course. But I thought that empaths and telepaths can’t easily detect Changelings. Don’t they mimic enough of their subjects to avoid being found out?”
“Correct. Even for me, it’s difficult. However, as I spent more time in the admiral’s presence, I became aware of an anomalous undercurrent to his thoughts. I can best describe it as a certain malevolence---a disharmony that was foreign and deeply out of place for a human mind. At first the impressions were fleeting, but as time progressed, they became more pronounced. I came to understand he wasn’t human.”
“Then why let the Changeling beam into HQ with us? You could have taken him out at the consulate.”
“Remember, he had been listening in to our conversation and was well aware of my abilities. Because of that, I knew he was watching carefully for any signs that I detected his true nature. Allowing him to accompany us was the final proof he needed that his deception had been successful. The Changeling would have been prepared for an attack up until that point.”
“And then you killed him. Just like that.”
“Yes. Distasteful. But there was no feasible way to incapacitate or confine the Changeling, not under these conditions. Nor could I allow him to return to the Dominion with knowledge of my true abilities.”
“I see.”
What he didn’t say, but wanted to, was how unsettling the experience had been. For other species---including his own---killing was an act of passion. There was always emotion present, whether it was rage, fear, remorse, or just a severe determination to take lives as a matter of martial necessity. But watching a Vulcan kill dispassionately, then listen to her explain her actions with detached reasoning, was disturbing on more levels than one.
Assuming of course, she really
was a Vulcan.
“If I may get up now and retrieve my phaser?”
“I’m not done yet. How did you program the holosuite? You were with us the whole time.”
“Incorrect. I set the controls for a staggered transport, so that I would arrive several minutes ahead of you and the Changeling. Once the simulation was in place, the transporter cycled me back in, maintaining the appearance that we all arrived at the same time.”
“A simulation that nearly killed me.”
“I adjusted the safety protocols to allow for injury but made sure the holographic character wouldn’t kill. If Jellico hadn’t ‘saved’ you, the program would have contrived a Deus Ex Machina.”
Adol didn’t respond. He still had his weapon trained on her.
“If you’ll allow me to lower my arms, I’ll provide further evidence.”
He tensed. “All right. But slowly. And don’t extend your arms in my direction.”
She brought them down, keeping her elbows bent. She then drew a fingernail across the top of her left hand, creating a small cut that began oozing blood. She inverted her hand and several green drops landed on the floor.
Adol’s focus jumped between her and the blood as she waited for him to resolve this latest information.
“As you can see, I am not a Changeling.”
“That’s not conclusive. There are ways around a blood test. And even if you’re not a Changeling, you could still be a different type of imposter, like the captain’s replica.”
“Commander, you must decide. If you still believe I’m an imposter, then logic demands you shoot me. Otherwise, trust that you’re making the correct decision. But choose quickly. There is much at stake.”
His antennae twirled in misery. “I don’t know what to do.” He emitted under his breath. “I don’t know who to trust.”
“Normally I could give reassurance by allowing you to touch my thoughts. However, in my current condition ---”
“NO! I’ve had enough of your damned WITHCRAFT” He shouted. “I don’t know who you ARE ANYMORE!”
A silent gap formed between them, during which Adol’s flash of rage faded into confusion, as though surprised by his own outburst.
She looked up at him, her face softening just enough to convey sadness. “You’re still angry with me.”
The Andorian lowered his arm and put his weapon away.
Shantok stood. She tore off a piece of her uniform sleeve and dabbed her wound with it, while her comrade only looked on silently, his face stoney.
Only after her cut was wrapped up snugly, did he speak again.
“Is the wound deep?”
“Superficial. The bleeding has already slowed.”
He watched her back as she bent over and picked up her weapon…
…only to whirl around and point the phaser at him, her face contorted into a sadistic leer.
“Just like a solid. Stupid and gullible.” She hissed.
There was a blinding light as she fired on him, and the last thing he heard before burning away was the Changeling’s mocking laughter…
“Commander. You’re trembling. Are you well?”
“Of course I’m not well!” He swallowed thickly while eyeing her phaser as she holstered it. “Shantok, what by all the gods is going
on here? The Dominion is involved in this too? What is it about Aubrey that has so many bad actors in a…
feeding frenzy over him?”
“It’s reasonable to conclude that the captain is in possession of critical information. Information so critical that it could change the outcome of the war, and /or grant considerable power to whomever claims it.”
He considered that. “I’d also say that the opportunity to get this information came up suddenly.”
“Why do you think so?”
“Because the Founders did such a bad job. Their plans are usually meticulous and well-crafted. They always play the long game. But this Changeling’s behavior was so sloppy, it was practically an act of desperation.”
“Logical.”
“You realize there could be other players on the board.”
“Likely, if not certain.”
“I can’t believe I fell for this. I’m a security specialist and I still let that damn shapeshifter trick me.”
“Don’t linger on self-recrimination, Mr. Adol. Changelings prey on our implicit feelings of trust by assuming familiar identities. They are also experts at manipulation by creating a false sense of urgency.” She cocked an eyebrow smugly. “Fortunately, as a Vulcan, I’m resistant to such efforts. As always, I let reason be my guide.”
“Respectfully, but you may want to hold off on the self-congratulations. Whoever we’re up against is obviously two steps ahead of us. You said so yourself. Now, you admitted to redirecting our transport, which means you’ve known where we were the entire time. So…where
are we?”
“The
Intrepid. Or so I intended. I knew the ship was berthed in Bay 217, which is in geosynchronous orbit over North America. And since my command codes would allow me to control the environment, it seemed a practical destination.”
“So…you never intended to bring the Changeling into Starfleet Headquarters after all.”
“Not if it could be avoided.”
“You realize we’re not on the ship, Shantok. We couldn’t be. We don’t have a Level Ten containment field available to any deck but engineering, so we can’t be in one of the ship’s holodecks. That means we really
were intercepted somehow. And the only way that’s possible is if someone was watching us the entire time---someone who saw you enter the coordinates back at the consulate, anticipated your plan and then redirected us into another holo-environment.”
She nodded appreciatively. “Sound reasoning.”
“I may have let you and the Changeling make a fool of me just now,” he intoned bitterly. “But I’m not
always an idiot.”
She couldn’t think of any response that would soothe him, so she opted for more silence. They turned away from each other, pretending to examine the ruined walls.
“Well,” Adol remarked after a few minutes. “Never let it be said that Vulcans aren’t emotional.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You’re sentimental. You’ve been keeping an eye on the Old Lady, haven’t you?”
She appeared indignant. “Knowing where the
Intrepid is berthed is hardly an act of sentimentality.”
He pivoted back to her with a broken grin. “You’ve been keeping a closer eye than that. How else would you know which holodeck still had power available?”
She launched a catty look in his direction.
They both started as a voice broke over a hidden PA system. “
This is Starfleet Intelligence. Drop your weapons, raise your hands, and move to the back of the room.”
“Finally!” Adol complained. “Took them long enough.”
Shantok dropped her phaser.
Adol discarded his as well.
“
All weapons, Commander Adol.”
Looking like an innocent man who was being unfairly put upon, he began to withdraw and drop five combat knives which all clattered to the floor, one after the other, in slow succession. One of them was a razor-sharp, six-inch
Kull Shredder that he had taken from a Nausican years ago.
She looked upon the spread of knives at his feet and then back at him, somehow managing to convey an understated hint of amusement.
He shrugged at her with mock embarrassment.
The doors parted and four people trotted into the room, pointing phaser rifles at them. They wore black tactical armor, with full-cover helmets that hid their faces.
They spread out, covering them with sharp, efficient movements. There was a militaristic coordination about them that argued against mere security officers.
After a few seconds, a fifth person walked in. He also wore black armor but with no helmet. If appearances could be trusted, he was a young Vulcan.
“Good afternoon,” he said with a broad smile, “my name is Tasok. As you heard me say earlier, I’m with Starfleet Intelligence. You’re being detained.”
“You’re not SI! Who are you really and WHERE are we?”
Tasok chuckled. “Typical Andorian. Direct and uncouth.”
“Perhaps.” Shantok espoused firmly. “But I agree with him. It’s unlikely you are Starfleet Intelligence. And since you compromised our rescue effort, it’s clear you don’t have Captain Aubrey’s best interests at heart. We demand to know your true identity and our location.”
Tasok’s counterfeit smile vanished. He tagged her with a fiery stare. “Words aren’t sufficient to convey just how little I give a damn about your ‘demands’.” He poked his finger at each captive. “Take them to their holding cells.”
Two soldiers marched forward and roughly handcuffed them as their respective partners looked on, hawkishly guarding their actions through the scopes of their rifles.
Adol was led away first.
“I’d better get my knives back!” He snapped over his shoulder.
Shantok was taken out next, in the opposite direction. Tasok trailed behind the two soldiers as she was pushed down a corridor.
She studied the corridor as she walked, trying to gleam anything about its construction or design style that might indicate her location, but it was maddeningly nondescript. The passageway was gray and seamless, like a tunnel. Occasionally they passed doors that were built flush into the walls, but with no signage to distinguish one from the other or to indicate their purpose. The overhead lights were two parallel strips that ran unbroken in both directions. She could be on a ship, a space station or a ground structure for all she knew. Perhaps even an elaborate holo-construct, for that matter.
They turned left into a hallway that was lined with holding cells, all of which appeared empty. She was unshackled and then shoved into one with such force she nearly fell to the floor. A row of horizontal bars slid shut after her. The cylindrical bars glowed a hot orange, illuminated by dangerous energy.
The guards began to walk away. Tasok skewered her with a look of pure disgust before turning away to join them.
“Hold!” Shantok called after him. She knew it was her final chance to engage with her captor. With her and Adol hopelessly immobilized, it was obvious that by the time she stepped out her cell, Captain Aubrey would be long dead.
“I have no interest in anything you have to say.” He retorted. “I had enough of listening to all of you at the consulate.”
“You must have tapped into the consulate’s security systems undetected.” She raised an eyebrow. “Impressive.”
“Thank you.” He replied with overt sarcasm. “Now if you’ll excuse me…”
“Why do you find me so offensive?”
The personal question took him by surprise as she had intended. She knew he had been expecting indignant demands for information, if not outright threats of arrest. Or at least, an attempt to appeal to his Vulcan ethics.
“You could always use your gifts to escape. Even I would be no match for you.”
She folded her arms, responding with impassiveness.
“Very well, then. You offer an appealing bait. So much so, that I’ll take a minute to indulge you. Who knows? It might even be cathartic for me. But don’t make the mistake of thinking you can manipulate me.”
He punctuated every syllable with contempt. “I detest you because you’re a Federation puppet. Because it was people like you that gave away our birthright.”
She held his gaze without hesitation, waiting for him to continue.
Fire danced in eyes. “Vulcan was once the pinnacle of force and sophistication in the quadrant. It was we who guided galactic affairs. It was we who shaped emerging worlds with our wisdom. Our guidance was sought out, and our power was feared. Our ancestors were creatures of passion, Shantok. We loved, we fought, we dripped sweat and hot blood onto the sands of our deserts. And then, one day, our ancestors gave away our kingdom…handed it over with barely a whimper to humans and their immature ilk.”
There was an expectant pause, as he awaited her rebuttal.
“I would disagree. One could say that our ancestors only returned to the true teachings of Surak. We moved forward, seeking cooperation with our neighbors, not control. We turned away from deprecation and hubris to help build the Federation, an instrument of peace that has become a beacon to the rest of the galaxy. We gave away nothing. Rather, we regained the path our ancestors once strayed from.”
“My dear lady, you are an apologist. Hubris? Deprecation? Of that, Vulcan society has in excess. You’re defending the same culture that cast you out as a child---shunned you out of fear of your abilities. Condemned your family. And it was that excommunication that led you to change your name and to take shelter in Starfleet.” He barked an acidic laugh. “Starfleet, that enlightened organization from whom you still hide your true nature---for fear they will abuse your gifts and destroy you in the process.”
Uncertainty stirred within her. It must have shown, because Tasok seemed to pick up momentum as his diatribe moved into the final stretch.
“Look at you! You stand here mouthing their rhetoric, speaking their language, allowing them to dress you in their clothes! You’re like a pet sehlat, a once ferocious beast who is now neutered and docile. You’ve betrayed everything our people once stood for.”
She rewarded him with a slight nod of her head. “It’s true that I was once shunned by Vulcan society. It appears we have that in common.”
“The difference between us is that I don’t care!”
She stepped closer, scanning him with a penetrating gaze. “On the contrary, it’s obvious you care a great deal. And ultimately that pain has led you here. The true difference between us is that I turned my banishment into a strength, while for you it became a weakness.”
He dismissed his guards with an angry sweep of his arm. Once they were gone, he latched his attention back to her, his face trembling with urgency. “You wish to save Aubrey? There’s only one way. Use your gifts. Like I said, I’m no match for you. No one in this building is a match for you.”
“I won’t.”
“Then he’ll be dead very soon. He’s suffering brain damage as we speak.”
Shantok turned from him and closed her eyes, attempting to cap a rising grief.
“I know he matters a great deal to you.” He cocked his head mockingly. “Are you in love with him?”
“Hardly. He’s not my type.”
Tasok laughed. “Unleash your true nature, Shantok. You want to! Even now, I can feel you straining at your leash. Or does your vaunted oath mean more to then your beloved captain’s life?”
She kept her back to him, addressing her remarks to a corner of the room. “It’s not logical that you wish Aubrey rescued. You clearly have another agenda. You’re playing a game of some sort. Whatever that game is, I refuse to participate.”
“It’s not a game, Shantok. Want to hear a secret? I couldn’t care less about your captain. I’m more interested in you.”
She rotated back to him in slow motion. “What do you mean by that?”
It was then that the attack came. She was hit by a push of telepathic energy, energy Tasok had been gathering for precisely this purpose. On any given day, the pulse that hit her mental shields would have been deflected easily, but today she was using the majority of her strength to contain her explosive psionic abilities.
Her mental shields were like an overtaxed levy, straining to hold back a flood---and Tasok’s wave, while not overly powerful in its own right, held just enough force to push her beyond a tipping point.
SAVE HIM! UNSHACKLE YOURSELF!
She cried out and stumbled backward, falling heavily into a small bench that was attached to the wall.
USE YOUR GIFTS OR AUBREY DIES!
“Stop!” She gasped. “I can’t…I can’t…”
She felt the beast beginning to slip through her grasp. She fought to hold on to it, knowing that if it fully escaped her, all would be lost.
Shantok brought every bit of energy, strength and force of will at her command to wrestle back what felt like an erupting volcano.
In the end, she won the battle.
But not entirely.
Part of her mind whipped away and struck Tasok.
He let out an agonized groan and fell to the floor, where he began to convulse violently.
For a short while, her mind supplanted his mind. He spasmed clumsily to his feet and began lurching towards her, stopping to drunkenly punch in a code on the wall panel.
The bars darkened and slid open.
The connection between them was severed abruptly as Shantok finally wrestled the last of her power into submission.
Tasok recovered his wits just as abruptly, leaving him strangely excited. He shook his head and giggled. “Incredible! Breathtaking! It was like the touch of a goddess!” He blurted shakily. “More! Give me more! Don’t stop now, Shantok! Let it back out or Aubrey dies today! Let it back out!”
She laid down on the bench, breathing heavily as a death-like exhaustion began spreading through her body and mind. “Go to hell.”
His cheeks flushed green as excitement shifted to anger. “How very human of you. But hell? Your captain is already there. And once his sentence has been served, he’ll die a vegetable. And all because you’re a coward who failed him.” He closed the cell again and spat at her. The spittle sizzled against the bars. “You make me sick.”
Shantok listened to his footfalls as he retreated down the hallway, finally leaving her in silence.
Silence, but not peace. She normally traveled to a dark void in her mind when meditating or healing. That black space had always been a comforting sanctuary, like returning to the womb.
But now the blackness churned with chaos. Instead, she settled for watching the ceiling until her exhaustion blurred it into abstract patterns.
For a time, she drifted somewhere in the shadowy peripheries between conscious and unconscious thought. And it was within that misty netherworld that she eventually heard a voice, just barely detectable to her ears. It was the shrill protest of a child, calling out from across time and space…
NO! Lemee go, you son of a bitch! HELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME!
It was both familiar and unknown, somehow triggering a feeling of despair so profound it threatened to bring her to tears.
“Forgive me, Jason.” She whispered.
