Star Trek - [Mirror Universe 003]

by Shards

  The thought filled Orilly with anger, made her want to strike at these invaders, even at the cost of her own life. But even through the din of her amplified perceptions, she could feel the collective will of the other Irriol holding her back. They felt loss and anger as well but feared more for the safety of the community. The Jaza creature had told them that if they cooperated, they would suffer less. That sounded sensible, for it was usually when Irriol resisted the larger flow of events that they suffered most. Yet that did not explain to Orilly why submitting to the outsiders felt so wrong, or how forcing the other species of Lru-Irr to act against the natural flow could be the proper choice.

  For now, ending the immediate pain was motivation enough. In moments, the captured bipeds would be here, and she could release her hold on the monollir that carried them. Mercifully, she and her kin had already been allowed to break their link with the navoliro and gariya birds before they had begun feasting on the bodies left behind.

  The monollir arrived outside the large laboratory structure, hesitating as the shimmering curtain at its entrance-the "force field," the outsiders called it-stung at their skin. The field deterred animals from entering unless the Irriol pressured them to overcome the discomfort and push through, as they did to the monollir now. Orilly was finally able to see the captives with her own eyes-both bipeds, but one large and burly with pink flesh and black fur on its head and face, one more slender with brown skin and no facial fur. The large one was fierce, with the look of a cornered predator, but the slender one appeared amazingly calm. A third monollir bore the servant creature Christine on its back, though she looked far less subservient in comparison.

  The Jaza creature ordered the Irriol to make the monollir set his servant down and place the other two in restraints, telling them they could send the animals away and rest afterward. He ran to the female and clasped her forelimbs once this had been done. "I'm so glad you're safe." It seemed to Orilly that he was holding himself back from an even more emotional display, though it was hard to tell with creatures not part of the gestalt.

  "I knew you wouldn't have let me go if you couldn't keep the animals under control," the Christine creature answered.

  "That control was relative," Jaza said unhappily. "I was hoping to take more of them alive."

  The female winced. "Sir, I didn't know. I acted rashly, I-"

  "It's all right. It was chaotic, and you're only a Terran."

  She bowed her head, then threw a subdued look at the prisoners. "At least it was an easier death than these two will get."

  "That depends on how cooperative they are," Jaza countered. "Maybe it doesn't have to come to that."

  "We'll get nothing from Tuvok here."

  The Ree creature came closer to the dark, slender captive. "Hrrr, don't be so sure. I would welcome the chance to examine a Vulcan."

  "Why?" Jaza asked. "We know all there is to know about them."

  "The Terran Empire was not as certain. Few study their writings today, but it is a hobby of mine. There were rumors among them that Vulcans possessed telepathic powers."

  "You mean the magical powers Emperor Spock supposedly used to claim the throne? Just superstitious ramblings, fabrications to rationalize their conquest by a Vulcan, of all things. Honestly, Ree, if Vulcans had the power to destroy their enemies with a thought, why would they have been such unresisting slaves for generations?"

  "Perhaps, as with my people, the abilities are only present in a minority. But it is my hope that studying the Vulcan brain and genome might offer clues to the existence of such abilities. The tales of Spock's magic may be exaggerations rather than outright fictions."

  Orilly did not understand much of what they said. But even now, with the amplifying machines inactive, her senses were still heightened enough from Ree's surgical invasions that she could feel the mental presence of this "Vulcan." He did have what the invaders called "telepathy," but they did not know this. If she told them, would that spare the Vulcan from Ree's tortures? No, she told herself. If this truth were known, his people would be cut into and hooked to machines as we have been. They were wise to keep it hidden.

  I am gratified that you realize that.

  Orilly was startled. It was a clearly voiced thought-but not her own. The surgeries let her feel the minds of her fellow Irriol more keenly than usual, but that was more a sharing of emotion and sensation. These were words.

  Then more words came. I am Tuvok of Vulcan. Are you receiving my thoughts?

  After a moment, Orilly ventured thinking, Yes.

  Excellent. Clearly a by-product of your amplified abilities. She sensed concepts beneath the words-the Vulcans could share thoughts but usually needed touch. As you have discerned, I need your assistance to escape before I can be subjected to study. In return, I will help you liberate yourselves and organize resistance against the Alliance.

  Orilly was not sure if the others could hear him as clearly as she could, for she was nearest. At the very least, they sensed her reaction to his words, and she felt their resistance and distress, which she relayed to him. We cannot! It will merely bring down more suffering. The Jaza creature tells us that if we cooperate, we will be safer.

  That is a lie.

  I sense his honesty. She shared with him her impressions of the guarded compassion she sensed within Jaza, restrained by pragmatism and dedication to his goals but working to temper the harshness of those goals when it could. It was an echo of the gestalt feeling that governed the Irriol's life, and she and her kin found hope in it.

  But what of the others? Tuvok asked. Look at what they have done to you, and to us. Consider what they have forced you to become. Can you trust that this Jaza is anything more than an exception to the pattern? He shared his own experiences of the Alliance-the deviousness and cruelty of his former master K'Tar, the sadism of intendants such as Kira and B'Elanna, the cruel tortures inflicted on the few other telepaths they had discovered. Cooperate with them, and you will be reduced to living weapons, with no freedom even within your own minds.

  But they are too powerful, Orilly answered. What can we do to fight them?

  You control a great power that they have given you: the biosphere of this planet. The animals you sent against us are formidable. Imagine what they could do against this outpost.

  More would come and kill us.

  This planet is remote from their territory. There are few Alliance personnel and ships here, and reinforcements are far away. He paused. I do not claim that there would be no risk. Retaliation would be likely, and your people would surely suffer losses. But your only hope as a people is to continue resisting long and aggressively enough that they can no longer afford to exploit you. The resistance will help you-and in time, you may be able to help us more than I can say at this juncture.

  Despite his reticence, she sensed the subtext-something about a secret movement among the Vulcans, a plan to rise in force when the time was right. This was why preserving the secret of Vulcan telepathy was so urgent. But Orilly noted that he thought more of helping her people than soliciting their help for himself. Even with his outer coldness, he thought of the gestalt first. This was not something she sensed in any of the invaders save Jaza, and even in him it was muffled, restrained. True, she sensed no trace of it in the one Tuvok thought of as "Riker," but she could tell in Tuvok's thoughts that there were many others in the resistance who risked themselves for others. Including two good people who had died trying to save her-people she herself had helped to kill.

  These are the ones we should be cooperating with, Orilly sent to her kinfolk. They embody true gestalt. They wish to stand alongside us, not exploit us. And we have the power! We must act now to restore the proper order and expel those who disrupt it!

  She felt the others' resistance. They yearned for what she promised but were afraid to take the necessary steps. Several had already died or been deeply crippled in the mind when they exerted control too strongly or too often. The capture of the rebels had strained th
em severely; to use their power again so soon and so aggressively would probably burn them out. We must not fear that! Orilly told them. It is worth our own sacrifice to protect the Whole. And if we die, then we deprive the invaders of the weapons they would use against us and others. We destroy the work they have done and leave them with nothing.

  Orilly had already decided that she would act, alone if necessary, no matter what the consensus was. But one by one, the others sent her their support, hesitant at first but getting stronger as their numbers grew. We are with you, she sent to Tuvok. Now...what exactly do we do?

  As Najem and Ree discussed their plans for experimenting on the Vulcan, Christine became aware of Riker's relentless gaze upon her. She looked away and fidgeted, then caught herself and strode over to him, meeting his eyes. "You think you can intimidate me? Stare all you want. It's the only power you have."

  "I'm just planning the best ways to make you suffer before you die."

  "If you take comfort in that fantasy, go ahead."

  He smirked. "You act like you've got a spine, but I know better. You're a craven traitor, too weak to stand up for yourself."

  That made her laugh. "You have no idea. You think the way to improve your life is to scream and fight like a spoiled child? Has that actually gotten you anything other than danger and squalor and pain? I've made the system work for me. I live in comfort, I have an education, I get treated with respect and kindness. With luck, the children I bear for Najem will be able to pass as Bajoran and have an even better life."

  Riker scoffed. "So you're a career girl. Just doing your duty."

  "Yes, I am. I'm loyal to my master."

  "You mean you bend over for anyone who owns you."

  She shook her head, defying his contempt. "No. I'm loyal because he's earned it. Because he's a better man than anyone in your pathetic resistance will ever be." Or anyone else in the Alliance, she added silently, knowing better than to voice such sedition. If slavery was her lot in life as a Terran-and the resistance was foolish to think it had a chance of changing that reality in her lifetime-then she would make the best of it, do whatever she could to survive and prosper. Despite what she'd told Najem before, she would find a way to adapt and live on if she ever lost him. But life could never be as good or as safe for her without him as her master-and she was blessed that her best option for prosperity had brought her love and happiness as well.

  So when the monollir and navoliro charged through the force field a moment later and began smashing up the lab, she rushed instantly to protect him, drawing her weapon and blasting at the stampeding beasts. She grabbed Najem's arm and pulled him behind a heavy console.

  Ree was surrounded by the felinoids, but he was in full predator mode himself. He dodged one as it lunged with its tusk-claws clashing and caught it around its neck with his own fearsome jaws. Christine heard its neck snap even as Ree's tail swung and caved in another navoliro's skull.

  Meanwhile, the monollir were using their trunks to free the prisoners-both the rebels and the test subjects. "The Irriol!" Najem cried. "They're controlling the animals. I don't understand what prompted this change in behavior. The resistance must have gotten to them, but how?"

  "Figure that out later, sir! We have to get to safety now."

  "No, we can't let them destroy our work! If they do, all this suffering will have been for nothing."

  The guards were arriving now, so there was no need for Christine and Najem to stay. But he had given her an order, so she did her duty and stayed to fight. Riker and Tuvok were free now, and the Vulcan was disconnecting the remaining Irriol from the equipment-though some were apparently dead already, burned out by their mental exertion. Christine fired at him. He dodged, but her beam grazed his flank, not a fatal blow but enough to fell him. A monollir moved to block her line of fire. She shot it, but its tough carapace absorbed most of the energy. "No!" Najem said. "It'll be too good an obstruction if you kill it. Drive it away." She fired in front of it, hoping its fear would override the Irriol's control.

  Meanwhile, Riker was battling the guards, unconcerned by his comrade's injury. Despite his bulk, he moved with impressive speed, dodging the Klingon guard's disruptor blast and ducking around him, snatching his own d'k tahg from his belt and slashing his throat with it. Grinning savagely as he liberated the guard's mek'leth from its scabbard, Riker charged Ree from behind while the sauroid had his teeth buried in another navoliro's neck. Christine called a warning and broke cover to run to his defense, but the Pahkwa-thanh took too long to get his head free and turned around. He managed to slash Riker's arm with a talon, too late to prevent the mek'leth from lodging itself in his neck. He screamed horribly and fell twitching to the floor, his convulsions jerking Riker around so much that Christine's phaser shot missed him.

  She took aim again, but he swung the freed mek'leth at her, taking her by surprise. It sent the phaser flying and made a ruin of the hand that had held it. Christine screamed in pain as Riker pulled her toward him and held the sword against her neck. "Let me go or she dies!" he cried.

  "Hold your fire!" Najem called to the guards, and Christine cursed her Terran stupidity for letting herself be taken and used against him.

  Riker dragged her back toward the force field. "Mr. Riker!" Tuvok called from the floor.

  "Save yourself if you can," Riker told him. "This mission's a bust. I'm getting out of here!" He took her out through the field, not sparing his comrade another glance.

  "You really...don't care about anything...but yourself, do you?" she managed to get out.

  "Oh, I care about you," he told her. "I care about the revenge I promised you."

  "My master...will save me."

  His breath was hot against her neck. "You'll be calling me master before you die."

  Tuvok gave little thought to Riker's abandonment; it was only to be expected. What mattered was the success of the mission. With Ree dead and the equipment largely destroyed by the native animals, the research had suffered a major setback. The remaining priority was to ensure the escape of the surviving Irriol.

  So when Orilly Malar and the other survivors came toward him, he told them, Leave me! You must escape and organize resistance.

  No! Orilly sent back. I will not leave you! Too many have died already!

  My death is by no means a certainty, he told her, though he kept the actual probability of his survival to himself. Go! You, above all, should understand that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one.

  Finally, reluctantly, she turned and led her people out through the force field. The animals remained, continuing to attack the base personnel and impede pursuit. It was the best Tuvok could hope to achieve under the circumstances.

  And so he allowed himself to succumb to oblivion, uncertain if he would ever awaken. His last conscious thought was of his wife and children.

  At last, Riker thought as he stroked Deanna's bulkhead. You belong to me now.

  With escape being a priority, he hadn't been able to devote as much time as he'd wanted to dealing with the slave woman. At least he'd made sure it was memorable while it lasted. But whatever satisfaction he'd had to forgo with Vale was more than made up for by the thrill of finally stepping onto Deanna's bridge and knowing it was all his. "Let's get out of here, fast," he told Bolaji.

  "Where are the others?" she asked, wide-eyed.

  "Dead. And we have to move if we don't want to end up the same way!" Bolaji was slow to move, wasting time with some useless feeling about the deaths of the others, so he flung her forcefully aside and took the helm himself. This ship was his now, so he should be the one controlling her.

  She proved a bit rough to handle as he took her up. She had a lot of power, and she fought him, bucking like a bronco. But he rode her hard, knowing he could break her soon enough. The struggle to impose his will was so enthralling that he barely noticed they'd broken atmosphere until an alarm sounded. "They've sent a ship after us!" Sortollo cried.