You haven’t even stepped onto the battlefield yet, Little One, came a mental voice.
Deanna gasped. “Mother!”
“Where?” asked Vandin, glancing around the room.
The door of the study hall whooshed open, and Lwaxana Troi burst in, an expression of panic on her face. Is it true, Little One? Are you taking that Washout ordeal in three days?
Deanna regarded her mother as the other members of her study group regarded Deanna. “Mother, what are you doing here?”
I’ve come to stop you from making a fool of yourself!
“Speak out loud, Mother. My study group is composed of non-telepaths.” Deanna glanced at Renny. “That includes me.”
Lwaxana gave her daughter a strange look, then waved a dismissive hand at the other cadets. This doesn’t concern them. I’m speaking to you. You are not taking that test! Deanna turned her back, and Lwaxana’s eyes blazed with outrage. “Very well! I’ll say it out loud: You are not taking that test!”
“Yes, Mother, I am taking that test,” Deanna responded, her back still turned.
Lwaxana glared at the other cadets. “You put her up to this, didn’t you? Go on, admit it! I can find out on my own, you know.” She suddenly turned to Renny and frowned. “How dare you accuse my daughter of such a thing!”
Renny blanched. “What did I say?”
“You don’t have to say anything, Mr. Renny,” Lwaxana stated. “I am a telepath. And I’ll have you know that my daughter is the most honest creature on this planet.” She whirled on Vandin. “And you!”
Vandin flinched just a little. “Ma’am?”
“Don’t you ma’am me, you—you—” Lwaxana’s hands spiraled in front of her as if she were groping for a word out of thin air—“you hormonal wild man! Stay away from my daughter. Is that clear?”
Deanna whirled to face her mother. “Enough, Mother! You’re not going to get your way by badgering innocent bystanders!”
“Innocent bystanders? Ha! Little One, these hooligans have encouraged you to throw away your career—especially this one!” and she jabbed an accusing finger at Auburn.
Auburn gazed placidly at Lwaxana as if everything were hunky-dory. “We will leave,” the Ichthyan offered, “for you to speak to Deanna with privacy.” She gestured the other cadets to the door.
Lwaxana folded her arms. “Fine. You’re all dismissed.” They hastened out.
“I can’t believe you did that.” Deanna could barely keep back tears of frustration. “Don’t you care how I feel about anything?”
Deanna expected an outburst as a reply, but Lwaxana, always unpredictable, now regarded her daughter with an almost desperate expression. I might ask you the same question, Little One. She held up her hands when Deanna started to protest. “All right, all right, I’ll talk out loud.” She collapsed into a chair with infinite weariness. “You can’t imagine what it’s been like, Deanna. First I watch you leave Betazed, your birth world, to start a whole new life on a different planet. Then, when I surprise you with my own arrival, you greet me with all the warmth of a Gazedon spit lizard greeting a hungry hawk. I thought you would be pleased to see me! Instead, after I traveled all the way here, what did you do? You rejected me in public, avoided my calls, and threw me out of your room! And now you intend to toss your future away on a childish move designed just to spite me.” She waggled a finger at Deanna. “And it is just to spite me, don’t deny it.”
“Mother, that’s not fair. There’s more to it than that.”
“Don’t you think I know what you’re doing? You’re looking at this test as some kind of Kikabu tribal maturity rite or something. You think if you pass, I’ll consider you a full-fledged adult. For heaven’s sake, Little One, this test isn’t a game—it will determine the rest of your life!”
Deanna burned with embarrassment. She hated it when her mother figured out her strategy. On the other hand, she was used to dealing with telepaths. “I’m aware of all that, Mother. But what else would you have me do?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll tell you one thing—I didn’t come all the way from Betazed to watch you throw your career away.”
“You didn’t come all the way from Betazed to watch me succeed at it, either.”
Lwaxana tensed up, and Deanna feared the argument was about to rise to new heights. But then Lwaxana just laughed, shaking her head in amazement. “You sound just like your father, do you know that?” Her eyes grew distant as she remembered earlier times, before Deanna was born. “Oh, the arguments we had when he was assigned to dangerous missions. I’d try to talk him into resigning from Starfleet, and he’d give me a list of reasons a kilometer long why he had to stay in. I suppose I was jealous. Imagine that—me jealous of Starfleet! But it was all right as long as he came back to me.” Her next words were barely above a whisper. “And then one day he didn’t come back.” She grew quiet.
“Mother … is that what you think? That I’ll go off on some mission and”—the words stuck in Deanna’s throat—“get killed?”
Lwaxana’s mood made another sudden swing, and now she spoke in a light, casual tone. “Whatever gave you such an idea? Of course not. But your sudden decision to take this test so early … well, if you make such a rash decision now, what in heaven might you do when you’re an officer?”
Deanna shrugged. “I’ll do what my superior officers tell me to do.”
“Really?” A shadow of irritation darkened Lwaxana’s features. “How very interesting. You’re eager enough to obey complete strangers, but you balk at the very thought of obeying me!”
“Mother, Starfleet is different.”
“How?” Lwaxana demanded. “How is it different? Starfleet is Starfleet. I’m your mother!”
Deanna stared up at the ceiling, fighting to maintain control. If her mother’s concerns hadn’t been genuine she could have disregarded them. But Lwaxana’s love enveloped Deanna in an empathic cloud so thick she felt as if she were choking. Love is one thing, she finally decided, but what she wants is my obedience for the rest of my life. I just can’t give her that! “Mother, I’m going to take the test.”
Lwaxana smacked the table with the palm of her hand, making Deanna jump. “You haven’t listened to a word I’ve said, have you, young lady?” Lwaxana gathered up her skirts and headed for the door. “Fine. Do whatever you want. What do I know? I’m just your mother.”
And she left.
Deanna’s eyes burned and tears threatened to spill down her cheeks. Now she had to pass the test. Everything—absolutely everything—depended on it.
CHAPTER
9
Cargo Freighter BOROCCO-KAI
Alpha Quadrant, Sector C
“Everything depends on timing,” Vandin told the group. They sat under the glow strip in the cargo bay trying to come up with a plan. Everyone had contributed ideas, and now Vandin was stating their final decision. “Okay, so we’ll split into two teams. Team one,” and he pointed to himself, Auburn, and Deanna, “will head for the bridge. If we’re lucky, most if not all of the pirates will be in there. We’ll bring down the blast doors, lock the pirates inside, then cut power to the bridge systems. Bye-bye Orion threat.”
Auburn nodded approval of the summation thus far. She had wisely allowed Vandin to take the floor after all, it was impossible to shut him up—but she interjected comments or questions, pointedly maintaining her authority over the team. Deanna admired the tactic.
“Now, while we’re doing that, the rest of you” Vandin indicated Renny, Tronnald, and Denburgh, the freighter’s engineer—“will go to the pod bay on deck twelve. That’s where the crew is being held. Denburgh, you said they’re in a cargo pod that’s code-locked, so we can’t get in and they can’t get out?”
Denburgh nodded. “Our only option is to detach the pod from the ship. We’ll be fine as long as we each have a cargo clamp. If we attach the clamp to a latch or docking hook on the pod’s exterior, there’s no way we’ll come loose. When the pod breaks away, w
e’ll just float along with it. Our emergency environmental suits will protect us in open space.”
“For how long?” Renny asked.
“Long enough,” Auburn assured him.
“Right,” said Vandin. “So we’ll attach ourselves to the exterior of the pod with cargo clamps and ride right out with it. Once we get beyond the damping field, we’ll contact the Chippewa with Auburn’s commbadge.”
“If the Chippewa is not out of range,” Auburn gurgled. “That is yet unknown.”
“Let’s rig a power booster,” suggested Renny, “something small and portable.”
“Excellent!” Vandin said. “So the pirates won’t be able to recover the pod, fire at it, or even follow it, since they’ll be locked on the bridge with no power. We’ll contact the Chippewa, they’ll come and get us, end of story.” He spread his arms. “The good guys win!”
The others voiced their approval of the plan. Vandin may be a nuisance, thought Deanna, but he can sure raise morale.
As Vandin, Deanna, and Auburn prepared for their dangerous journey to the bridge, Renny pulled Vandin aside. Deanna heard him whisper, “Just one thing, fearless not-leader—what are you going to do if the pirates shoot at you?”
Vandin shrugged. “Let’s hope they don’t.”
Moments later Team One walked away from the hazy light of the glow strip, heading back into the dark corner where the ventilation shaft lay open and waiting. Deanna had never suffered from claustrophobia, but she had a feeling the next ten minutes would give her a good taste of it.
Crawling through the shaft wasn’t as bad as she expected, but it was still difficult. She had to crawl with a lizardlike motion that scraped her elbows and knees. Because Vandin’s body was bigger, he had to hold his arms straight out in front of him, as Denburgh had done, and maneuver with his feet. As for Auburn, she slithered along like a fish through water. She’d gone into the shaft first and was already far ahead. “This shaft terminates approximately ten meters ahead,” she whispered back at them.
Deanna had entered last, so by the time she tumbled out of the shaft, Auburn was rested and Vandin was catching his breath. Both of them were filthy and disheveled. No doubt she looked as scraggly as they did.
Brushing her hair out of her eyes, Deanna looked around. The shaft led out into a corridor, as Denburgh had told them. This corridor connected to the main passageway that ran through the center of the freighter and eventually led to the bridge. Auburn silently gestured them forward, but Deanna hung back, concentrating. “Sense you if all the Orions are ahead?” Auburn whispered.
Deanna shook her head. “No, I can’t feel the Orions at all.” Auburn pointed to a corridor on their left. “Then let us check sickbay. We cannot forget the pirate drugged by Vandin. It is doubtful he still sleeps, but we must be sure.”
Sickbay was empty. They searched each examination booth and even opened the quarantine tank, but did not find the drugged pirate. “He must have awakened and rejoined his fellows. We will assume he is on the bridge,” said Auburn.
“Hope he’s got a headache the size of a supernova,” Vandin growled, finding the empty hypospray he’d used on the Orion.
“Wait a minute.” Deanna examined the hypospray.
“Is there any more of this drug? We don’t have any other weapons, so—”
“An excellent idea.” Auburn threw open a cabinet door and rummaged around inside. “Search for more.”
They found one more vial of the sleeping drug and reloaded the hypospray. Auburn was about to hand it to Vandin when the Xybaki said gallantly, “I will do without so that my sweet Deanna may—”
“Take it, Xybaki,” Auburn ordered, shoving it into his hand. “You now will protect us poor and feeble females.”
Rolling his eyes, Vandin accepted the hypospray. “Aye, sir.” Then he whispered into Deanna’s ear, “You’re safe with me, my blossom.”
“Funny,” she replied coolly, “I feel just the opposite.”
“Ah, that’s what I adore about you,” Vandin purred. “You’ve got spunk.”
Now it was Deanna’s turn to roll her eyes. She followed Auburn out of sickbay.
When they reached the bridge, the main door was closed. Good, Deanna thought. They won’t be able to see us, and if we’re quiet, they won’t hear us. Auburn looked at her and tapped her forehead. Deanna concentrated for a moment, then shook her head. Vandin mouthed, “I’ll guard,” and took position right outside the closed bridge door as Auburn slowly, quietly opened the control box several meters away.
Deanna was relieved to find that she understood the maze of wires and circuits in the control box. She pinched an impossibly thin, delicate blue wire, indicating that she believed it was part of the blast door controls. Auburn nodded agreement and traced the wire to its connection point within a bundle of other wires. They all merged into a thick insulated cable that disappeared into the bulkhead, where it eventually ran all the way to the ship’s main computer.
Before pulling the wire, Auburn and Deanna both looked over to Vandin for an all-clear sign. What they saw shocked them: Vandin’s hand was poised to activate the bridge doors! Before they could utter a sound, he slapped the control touchplate, the bridge doors sprang apart, and he leaped through, brandishing the empty phaser he’d gotten from Denburgh. “Fool!” Auburn hissed.
From her angle, Deanna could no longer see Vandin, but she knew what he was trying to do.
“Okay, Orion scum, throw down your weapons!” came his voice, brimming with authority and confidence. “You’re surrounded!” Barely were the words out of his mouth when the shrill whine of an Orion disruptor split the air.
Vandin screamed, then his voice simply stopped. Something thudded to the floor, and Denburgh’s phaser and the hypospray skittered out the door and into the corridor.
“No!” Deanna cried.
Auburn yanked the blue wire free. The control panel sparked, and the bridge doors slammed shut—but not before one Orion slipped through. He glanced behind him to see the blast doors slam down over the main doors, separating him from his comrades. He raised his disruptor. “Sh’kilu tze!” he yelled at Deanna. Then he fired.
Deanna threw herself to one side as the disruptor beam sliced through the air just inches past her shoulder. Behind her, part of the bulkhead exploded, and when she looked up, the Orion was aiming at her again, his yellow teeth bared.
But he never fired. Like a furious tiger, Auburn leaped on him. The Orion obviously hadn’t expected such an aggressive act from a female. He went over backward, and Auburn pinned his arms down, her body slim and fragile-looking next to his stocky bulk. Deanna was amazed at the Ichthyan’s strength. Though the pirate tried madly to throw her off, he couldn’t do it!
Deanna grabbed her chance. Like an old-time baseball player diving for home, she launched herself at the fallen hypospray. Through his struggles with Auburn the Orion saw what she was going for and tried to grab the hypospray first, but Deanna beat him to it. “Take that!” she cried, pressing the instrument against his arm. One quick hiss and the Orion’s body went limp. He began to snore.
Auburn scrambled to her feet. “My thanks,” she panted. “Let us go!” Only then did Deanna hear the electrical whine of a cutting tool on the opposite side of the bridge doors. A small glowing yellow spot appeared in the center of the door and began to grow. “Troi, they are cutting through! We must hurry!”
“But the bridge power—”
“No time,” Auburn said. “We must go now!”
Deanna glanced at the phaser lying on the deck. “Vandin—”
But Auburn just grabbed her arm and pulled. Deanna had to take a step to keep from falling. One step, another step—in seconds she was running down the corridor as fast as she could, barely keeping up with Auburn’s swift pace. Deanna expected to hear the Orions’ footsteps behind her at any moment, but she knew it would take them a long time to cut through the blast doors. She and Auburn made it to the pod bay without mishap.
&
nbsp; “We have failed,” Auburn panted to the others gathered there. “Vandin, the fool—”
“He tried to bluff the Orions,” Deanna added, gasping for breath. “He’s dead, and we didn’t have time to shut off the bridge power!”
Tronnald and Renny froze in shock, but Denburgh simply reported, “The pod is ready for launch, but we have a little problem. The Orions have taken the environmental suits.”
“What?” Deanna cried.
“Don’t panic,” Denburgh went on. “They missed one storage locker and there are four suits in there.”
But there are five of us! Deanna’s brain shrilled. Before she could say it out loud, the ship’s computerized emergency klaxon began to wail.
“Emergency alert. Emergency alert,” intoned the computer’s bland, impersonal voice. “All personnel to emergency evacuation stations. Shipwide decompression commencing in four minutes.”
CHAPTER
10
Starfleet Academy
Earth
“Four minutes to start of Borocco-Kai simulation,” announced the computer’s bland voice.
Deanna heard those words, and panic gnawed at her stomach. I’m really doing this. I must be crazy! She struggled to compose herself, thinking, Thank goodness I’m the only empath here. Nobody can tell how scared I am.
She was standing in the soundproof waiting room outside Training Holosuite Four. Behind her in the corridor, a crowd of cadets had gathered to watch the five freshmen flout tradition and take the Big Washout early. Most of the observers were fellow freshmen, but there were cadets of all levels out there, watching curiously through the window. “News travels fast,” Vandin had noted on his way in.
Deanna could feel the roiling emotions of the cadets in the crowd. Many radiated envy—not envy at her supposed daring, but envy that she would get the dreaded test over with so soon. Most of the upperclassmen thought she was foolish, but a few of them were actually jealous. “I’d have taken it early, too, if I’d known I could,” one junior had told her.
Star Trek: The Next Generation: Starfleet Academy #12: Breakaway Page 6