Chapter 13 (part 4)
Unknown Underground Location
DePaul IV, Sector 172-Delta
The cage gave away no secrets. Not that Shumar expected it to, after all Doctor Tarov had been locked inside one for days and hadn’t managed to find a means of escape. She estimated that she had been held prisoner for a little over two hours, but then again she never had been very good at estimating time (the numerous occasions she had spent whole weekends in the labs at the Academy without realising it was testament to that). She suspected that her and Chan’s disappearance had been noticed by Commander Deacon, and that a rescue mission was underway, although she had no way to prove it.
Sometimes you just had to have faith in the cosmos, or a god, or fate, or whatever else you wanted to call it. But in the short time she had known her new Commanding Officer, she suspected that he wasn’t someone who would leave others behind. He wouldn’t cut his losses and carry on, he’d come looking and wouldn’t stop until he found them. Or at least she hoped he did. But with everything that was happening to the colony, there were no guarantees.
“When did you graduate?”
Tarov’s voice startled her as she squinted at the opening, where the field met the wall. She looked up at her former mentor, her brow furled. “I’m sorry?”
“When did you graduate from Starfleet Academy?”
“Two weeks ago,” she replied, scrutinising the Vulcan scientist, who sat cross-legged on the dust floor. “I sent a message to you at the Vulcan Science Academy, inviting you as one of my guests. But when I never heard anything back, I assumed that you were out on an expedition.” She looked around at the cage. “Are you sure you want to discuss this now Doctor?”
“We could discuss Professor T’Pelna’s latest paper on theoretical subspace mechanics if you’d prefer,” Tarov stated in his customary deep monotone.
Shumar couldn’t help but smile. She had learnt under his tutelage that Tarov had a very subtle sense of humour. “I never thought you’d come back here though. Our initial survey was very complete.”
“I was not here on an expedition Elisabeth. I came here to settle; I offered my services as a science advisor so as to best help the colony. I sought to make Prairie my home.”
She was surprised to say the least. He had always seemed so at home and at peace on Vulcan, surrounded by the planets greatest minds—both present and future—she couldn’t think of any reason why he would turn his back on his career on Vulcan to come to the outer edge of Federation space. She couldn’t see his logic in the decision.
“Why?” she asked. He looked up at her, an eyebrow cocked. “I do not mean to be rude doctor. But why resign from the Science Academy to come all the way out here?”
“You,” he said simply.
Shumar could feel her cheeks burn. “Me?”
“Yes. You came to Vulcan to study, and worked hard to be accepted by both my peers and your own. You became one of the greatest students the Science Academy had ever had. You could have remained and worked on your doctorates, but you desired to enter Starfleet. So you did.
“After we surveyed this planet,” he continued, holding her full attention, “I found it of great interest, and continued to work of the analysis of our data records and of the Federation Colonial Authority’s follow up investigation. When I learned that it had been selected as a site for colonisation, I knew that I wanted to be a part of it. So I tended my resignation from the Science Academy and signed on with the colony convoy.”
“I imagine the senior officials at the Vulcan Science Academy were not pleased when you left for an agricultural colony.”
“They were not. However I had made by my decision and I stand by it, even given the current circumstances.”
“Not very logical Doctor.”
“Sometimes, even logic must give way to freewill.”
“I’ll remember that,” she told him with a warm smile. People often thought that Vulcans were heartless automatons, but in the four years she had spent on their homeworld, she had learnt much about them, even that their emotions could sway them (although they would never phrase it in such a way).
Suddenly, right in front of her there was a faint ripple, and the low buzz of the security field ceased.
“What the…?” she heard Chan mutter from the cell next to hers. “The forcefields are down!” The security officer emerged into the passage between the cells and stepped into view. He looked a little pale and his crew cut was nearly grey with dust. She held out a hand to where the field had been seconds before, shut her eyes and braced herself for the energy discharge, then took a step forward. Nothing.
“You’re right!”
The security officer looked back and forth, eyes taking in the shadows. “It might be a trap,” he stated. “However, we could use it to our advantage.”
“Agreed,” Officer McMillan stated, stepping out his own cell. “We should get moving quickly.” The older of the two colonial police looked at the other, who was hobbling slightly, clutching his ribs and had cuts and bruised on his hands and face. “Young, you good to move?”
“Yes sir,” Young replied, though his answer was wheezy and laboured. Shumar was no medical doctor but she suspected the young LEO had internal injuries. She moved over to him and took his free arm over her shoulder and took some of his weight. He looked at her with a faint smile. “Thank you ma’am.”
Tarov and his assistant, a youthful Deltan, had stepped out from their cells and were looking down the cellblock. “What is our next move?”
Officer McMillan looked at Chan. “Orders Lieutenant.”
Chan took a few moments to look up and down the dusty passage between the cells, which extended into the shadows. “I’d suggest that you and I go in different directions and scout ahead for possible exits, or something we can use as a weapon,” he suggested then looked at Shumar.
Though Chan was a Lieutenant JG, she was on the senior staff, and Starfleet protocol made her the officer in charge (which was the reason she was superior to some of the more experienced officers in the science section despite her rank). The others in the group looked from Chan to her as well.
“Agreed Lieutenant.”
Chan and McMillan nodded and headed off in opposite directions. She, Tarov, Young and Teln waited patiently. She couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched, and the growing sense of unease that tied her stomach into knots. Young’s breathing was laboured and shallow. She wished that she had her backpack, which contained an emergency medkit. She could have given the officer a painkiller and bound his chest, so as to give him at least some small measure of comfort, but without it there was nothing she could do.
Teln stepped towards them, concern on his delicate features. “Officer Young, I can help alleviate your pain. If you will allow me?”
“I’ll…I’ll be alright,” he wheezed, but Shumar could hear the fear and pain in his voice.
“Officer,” Tarov spoke up, “you are seriously injured—I would suspect a punctured lung and a fractured fibula. We will need you at your best, and Mr. Teln will be able to block much of the pain you are in. There is no logic in suffering when a treatment is available.”
Young looked from Tarov to Teln and then nodded. “Okay then.”
Teln moved to Shumar. “If I may Ensign?” She gently removed Young’s arm from her shoulder and helped Teln into her place. The officer grimaced. Once supporting Young’s weight, Teln placed a hand on the young humans chest and shut his eyes. As the Deltan concentrated, Young moaned softly in discomfort for a moment and then quietened. The look of pain ebbed from his face and his stance relaxed slightly.
After a few moments Young seemed to breath a little easier. He looked down at Teln and nodded. “Thank you.”
The research assistant smiled. “You are welcome Officer. Do not over exert yourself and you will be alright.” They moved closer to one of the walls and rested against it.
Tarov hadn’t watched over his assistants healing, but instead maintained vigil, looking up and down the cellblock after Chan and McMillan, who were both still visible, though would soon disappear into the darkness of the passage. Shumar looked down the way Chan had gone, anxious for her shipmate. She had never considered, when she took the assignment to the Challenger, that she would face commanding others in a hazardous situation.
“Down here!”
Shumar looked away from Chan and towards McMillan. He was waving at them and pointing to his right. She looked back at Chan and called him back. He hurried back towards them and once they had regrouped, they headed for where McMillan stood. Teln and Young set their pace, as Shumar didn’t want to leave them lagging behind the rest of the group.
It took them several minutes to reach the colony officer, and when they reached him they saw an alcove that led to a metallic door, a small control panel beside it. McMillan was studying the controls when they arrived. He looked back at them. “I think it’s the top button to open the doors.”
“We’ll need to be ready for anything behind it,” added Chan.
Shumar moved to the panel and looked it over herself, quickly concurring with McMillan’s assessment. She looked back at Tarov, Teln and the injured Young. “Get back, stay out of sight. McMillan, Chan, stand ready. I’ll hit the controls and follow you two in.”
They both nodded as the others backed away down the corridor they had come from. Shumar took her place beside the panel, keeping well out of the way of the two security officers, her finger hovering above the button. She looked at the two older men, who stood in an attack stance, and then counted down on her fingers from five. On one, she hit the button and the door opened silently.
Chan and McMillan rushed forward. She didn’t hear anything but followed them in, adopting a fighting stance she’d been taught at Starfleet Academy. They stood in a metallic corridor, the walls a dull grey colour, low lighting from above, no signs of life or computer interfaces. She was relieved, the last thing she wanted was to go hand-to-hand with he armoured soldiers Tarov had told her about.
The corridor was straight and ended at a T-junction roughly fifty to sixty meters ahead of them. There were no sounds except for their breathing and the corridor was devoid of scents. No one had been down the passage for a very long time.
Calling the others, they moved down the corridor as quietly as they could. Chan at the front, Shumar behind him, then Teln and Young, followed by Tarov and McMillan at the rear—just in case someone came up behind them. They made good progress, despite Young’s injuries (which he’d sustained after touching the energy barrier and being thrown into the wall) and reached the T-junction quickly. Once there, she and Chan peeked around the corner and found both directions clear. Moving into the intersection they looked down the two options they had, both went for around one hundred meters before turning off again.
Shumar wasn’t sure which way to take. Going the wrong way might lead them into the soldiers or a trap or to a dead end, which would waste their time and make more likely they would run into the soldiers on a patrol. They could split up, but with one injured and no weapons, she didn’t like their chances. She was about to ask for options when Young pointed down the corridor to their right.
“What’s that?”
They all turned to look and saw at the end of the corridor, just as it turned into a new passage, a small monitor. It flashed intermittently, then paused for a few seconds before flashing again.
“Morse code,” McMillan stated. “A series of dots and dashes made with a sound or light, a primitive form of communication from Earth in the 1800s.”
“Can you translate it?” she asked.
“I’m a bit rusty ma’am,” he replied but studied the flashes for several minutes. “Okay, I might be mistaken, but it reads roughly: Shumar this way beacon.”
“What’s that mean?” asked Young, frowning.
“It could be a trap,” said Chan. “There’s any number of ways they could have learnt your name, and about Morse Code. Maybe we should go the other way.”
“That could be exactly what they want,” interjected Young.
“Wait, I got it wrong,” McMillan interrupted. “It’s not beacon. It’s deacon.”
“The Commander!” she exclaimed.
“It could still be a trap,” advised Chan.
“I know, but it could also be the Commander telling us which way to go,” she looked at the assembled men around her. “I don’t know about any of you, but I’m ready to take a leap of faith.”
They looked among each other, none of them looking overly convinced. Except for Tarov who stepped forward. “We have few alternatives. I am with you Elisabeth.”
Slowly the others concurred, though the three security guards still didn’t look comfortable. Once again in their formation, they headed towards the flashing light. Truth be told, Shumar wasn’t convinced that they weren’t heading into a trap, but she wasn’t going to shy away from making a choice, just because they didn’t know the outcome. She would rather take a chance on a long shot than be stuck wondering around in the underground superstructure they now found themselves in.
Reaching the corner, Chan snuck around for a look and reported it clear. Shumar stopped by the monitor to see what she could discern from it, but it looked to simply be an emergency panel of some kind—their version of a red alert perhaps. The new corridor was almost the same as the others, branching off at another T-junction at the end at the end of the hundred-meter passage.
They started forward once again. But after they had gone half way down, Chan paused and halted the group. Shumar looked over his shoulder and saw the reason he had stopped; a massive shadow approaching the corridor they were in from the right corridor of the T. Her heart pounded in her chest, adrenaline flooded her system. This was it; they were about to face their enemy head on, in a corridor with no cover and only one means of escape. She signalled for the others to head back and stepped up beside Chan. Whatever was coming it was their duty to safeguard the civilians.
The shadow paused for a second, and then darted forward quickly. Suddenly it was in the intersection, a blur of grey and brown flying through the air, landing and rolling, then adopting a defensive crouch, weapon aimed right at them. The movement was so fast and fluid, it passed in just a few seconds.
Shumar never expected the speed and readied herself to sprint towards it and attack, Chan tensing beside her ready to do the same. But before she moved a muscle she took in the fast moving soldier and instead of a metal clad warrior, found herself looking at a felinoid wearing an insulated Starfleet field suit.
“Ensign R’Kohr!” she called out, her voice echoing down the long empty corridor.
“Ensign Shumar? Chan?” he replied, slowly rising from his haunches to his full height. He flashed them a bright smile of sharp teeth. “About time you showed up! Are the colonists with you?” he asked, moving towards them.
Shumar looked behind her, to see that the civilians had only made it a few meters back down the passage when the Caitian had jumped out. They had stopped on hearing the voices and were slowly moving back towards their Starfleet escort.
“They’re with us,” she looked behind R’Kohr. “Where’s the Commander?”
“We found a control room and he’s there trying to dig up as much as he can. I scouted ahead to take you there,” he gestured down the corridor at the still flashing panel. “I see you got his message.”
“A little cryptic, but yeah,” said Chan. “Luckily we had someone with us who could decipher it.”
R’Kohr chuckled softly. “It was a long shot, but worth trying.” He looked back at the civilians and saw the injured law enforcement officer. “How you all doing?”
“Alright for the most part,” Shumar told him. “But a medkit would be useful.”
“I left my pack back with the Commander. Come on, follow me.”
R’Kohr leading the way, they headed through the maze of corridors and passages. She was amazed that he had been able to find them at all, let alone find his way back. Even with her photographic memory, she doubted she could manage it, all the corridors were identical, nothing distinguished them from one another.
After five or so minutes of walking, they turned into an alcove and R’Kohr tapped on a control panel, the door parted and opened to reveal a room filled with monitors and computer systems. Standing just to the side of the door, weapon raised was Commander Deacon. On seeing R’Kohr he lowered his phaser. As Shumar stepped into the room, a wide smile of relief spread across his face.
“Ensign it’s good to see you’re alright.”
“It’s a relief to see you sir. Thanks for coming to look for us.”
The rest of her group entered the chamber and R’Kohr sealed the entrance again, she noticed there were two others into the control room. She quickly introduced Deacon to Tarov and the others, and saw a look of sadness cross over his face when he saw that the colonists were missing two people. Tarov gave him a brief account of their ordeal, including how six had come to be four. As he spoke, Teln got R’Kohr’s medkit and saw to the injured Officer Young, whilst R’Kohr gave Chan a spare type-two phaser from his pack, and they and McMillan went over a quick plan for the defence of the chamber.
When Tarov finished with his brief summary, Deacon looked his square in the eye. “I hate to impose on you after all that Doctor, but we could use your help in accessing this computer system.”
“Of course Commander. I will do whatever I can to assist.”
“Good to hear,” he looked from Tarov to Shumar. “How good are you to at breaking alien encryption algorithms?” he asked with a faint smile.
***
. 
