Trials 04 Shadow's Trial
Page 25
gruffly, his slight amount of patience exhausted.
His bluntness was almost comforting. At least George was behaving
predictably in character. She smiled ruefully. "I have a problem," she
admitted. "The other day, I---needed to act---I felt threatened, but I
just froze. And I thought when I took the class that it would help me
to know what to do---"
"It will only help you if you practice. You have to practice until it
becomes instinctive. Tell me what happened." The muscles in his jaw
were painfully tight as he strove to keep his expression impassive and
his voice level to avoid frightening her back into her shell. Those
sitting in the mess hall weren't close enough to overhear and couldn't
read the expressions on either face, though they were watching
closely.
More grist for the gossip mill. Did Kim know Shadow was meeting
Natwick for breakfast?
She was choosing her words carefully. "Someone made me
feel---threatened. And I froze."
"You want to tell me who?" he asked. She shook her head. "Damn. There
goes my exercise for the day." He deliberately flexed one bulging
bicep, then rippled his powerful pectoral muscles. It was an
impressive sight. A few of the watchers quickly turned their attention
back to their meals, not wanting to attract his notice.
His actions startled a smile out of her as she caught his meaning, but
she shook her head reprovingly. "George, I want to handle this myself.
But why didn't I do something? If I was scared? I know the moves. You
know I do." Her breakfast forgotten, her hands fluttered nervously.
In an effort to calm her, Natwick reached across the table and clasped
one slender hand firmly in his own big paw. "Malista, if you're
thinking too much, you won't react. Did you second guess yourself?
What exactly did he---"
"You don't need to know that." No room for argument with that tone.
'Damn!' he thought. 'She's stubborn.' He nodded acceptance. "Up
close?"
She nodded. "Very close." She swallowed hard as she remembered how
trapped she'd felt when cornered by Longoria.
"Did you raise your knee?" Natwick asked.
"You mean---? No." She blushed at the thought. "I told you I just
froze. I almost used ---I almost drew a weapon."
Though not often or easily surprised, this simple statement floored
the big ensign. He let go of her hand and leaned back in his chair.
Once the rumors had begun flying, he'd expected something to happen.
But not this. "A weapon? Was the threat severe enough to justify using
deadly force?"
She looked at him blankly. "I don't know. How can you tell?"
Natwick clenched and unclenched his fists as he tried to come up with
a comprehensive answer that would cover all the bases, yet not lead to
major trouble for the guileless young woman. "Was your life in danger?
Or someone else's life? That would justify using deadly force. But
normally, in a threatening situation, things don't escalate from
verbal to deadly without some warning in between."
She seemed puzzled, but desperate to understand. "So you mean I should
warn him before---"
"What I mean is, deadly force---using a weapon is a last resort,
unless it's a phaser set on stun?" She shook her head. He didn't ask
what weapon. He didn't want to know. If she told him, his sense of
duty as a Security Officer would dictate that he report the incident
to Lt. Tuvok.
So instead he tried to think of some guidelines that would ensure her
safety without leading her into overreaction. "Malista, confrontations
usually grow in intensity. You should try to deal with the problem
before it reaches critical mass. You say this guy---whoever he
was---made you feel threatened?"
"Yes. He, uh, crowded me, trapped me," she stammered.
"Did he hurt you?"
She flinched from the intensity of his low voice. She wasn't afraid of
George, but she could easily see why others would be. "No. But what if
he'd done more than just---what if he'd---"
"Did he get physical? Grab you? Hit you?" Natwick's breathing was
unsteady, as was his control on his temper. He hated to think of
anyone threatening her. Hurting her. It made him want to pound
something---or someone.
"No. Well, he grabbed me." Unthinkingly, she rubbed her wrist as she
recalled the incident as if reliving the experience. "I was trapped.
Sort of. I couldn't get away from him. We were---there was no one else
there. I couldn't decide what to do. I told him to leave me alone. But
he wouldn't. The next thing I thought of was the weapon. I was trying
to think if I could reach it---"
"Hold it. You skipped a couple of steps there," Natwick interrupted,
adopting his self-defense instructor's tone. "First of all, you warn
him verbally. Strongly. If that doesn't work, you try mild physical
resistance. Push him away. If that doesn't work, bring up your knee.
It's an old trick, but it works. Or do whatever it takes to get away
from him. Then run like hell. If you can't do any of that, well,
that's the time to go for a weapon. But you have to be able to justify
your use of force. That there was no other option."
Her eyes locked on his, she nodded as if memorizing his statements for
future reference.
The ensign wasn't sure he wanted to know, but had to ask. "So if you
froze, how did you get out of the situation?"
"Someone else came in and he backed off." Unthinkingly her eyes
darted toward Gerron.
Natwick immediately realized the truth behind some of the rumors he'd
been hearing. So Gerron was the white knight in this scenario. How
unexpected. How unlikely.
How unfortunate.
Natwick would have traded every replicator ration at his disposal to
have been the one on the scene to rescue Malista. For several
different reasons. But his feelings weren't the issue here. This
wasn't solving her problem. He dragged his attention back to the
scared young lady before him.
"Malista, we've talked about this before. Controlled fear can be an
asset in a fighting situation. It makes you cautious, keeps you safe,
and motivates you. Controlling it is the key. When this person made
you feel threatened, what exactly did you do? Other than think about
the weapon. Did you tell him to back off?"
"N-n-no," she stuttered. "N-n-n-not exactly. I said 'Leave me alone'."
George snorted impatiently. "In that mousy tone of voice? And you
expected him to believe you were serious?"
Her brow creased in an indignant frown. "I didn't know what else to
say. I thought anyone would understand 'Leave me alone' as a negative
response."
Natwick shook his head. "He probably thought you were being coy.
Remember when I tried to throw a scare into you? To test you? As I
recall you said something like 'Back off. Leave me alone.' And you
said it firmly. Then you told me that if I didn't back off, I might be
able to take you down---but you'd hurt me. That it would cost me to
come after you. And Malist
a, *I* believed you." His lips twitched in
an admiring and fondly reminiscent smile. "And I'm not easy to fool."
"That was different," she mumbled.
"Why? What was different? I made you feel threatened, didn't I?"
"Yes, but I was angry. I was furious at the way you'd tried to
humiliate Harry and I---" She paused, wonderingly. "And I didn't lose
control of my temper."
He grinned at her proudly. "No, you didn't. You used your anger and
channeled it to help you handle your fear. Fear can do that for you.
You can let it make you weak and ineffective, or you can use it to
give you the strength to act to deal with the fear. You have to take
control of your emotions. You turn the fear into anger and use it."
"Turn the fear into anger, and use it," Malista said in an undertone.
Her eyes glinted as she beamed a radiant smile at him. He was dazzled
by it. "Thanks, George. You're a good friend. I appreciate your help."
She leapt to her feet and scurried away, dumping her uneaten
breakfast, and collecting Gerron on her way out the door.
"I'll settle for that," Natwick sighed as he returned to picking at
his breakfast. "Since I don't seem to have any other choice."
*************************
There had been no further telemetry received from the orbiting
satellites. Voyager had just entered orbit around the second
uninhabited planet in the system.
Without warning, a bright white ball of dancing light about two feet
in diameter appeared on the bridge. It hovered directly in front of
the viewscreen for a split second then began a slow circuit of the
bridge stations beginning with the Engineering station then traveling
toward Security.
"Intruder alert," Tuvok stated, hitting the alarm controls manually
since the automated system hadn't been triggered.
Tom Paris reflexively jumped to his feet, standing behind the conn
position, vigilant and ready to move at the captain's order. Or to put
himself between the intruder and the captain, who happened to be
standing about four feet from his right shoulder and slightly behind
him.
"Captain, it seems to be a probe of some kind," Harry Kim reported.
"It seems to be taking readings. I've never seen this kind of energy
signature before though. And this is not the only one. I'm reading
twenty such probes located throughout the ship." Harry tuned the
internal sensors to take as many readings as possible as the thing
passed his position.
"Everyone stay where you are," Janeway ordered.
The gleaming beam reminded Harry of a spotlight. It seemed to be
taking a personnel survey. It stopped briefly at each station, hovered
momentarily in front of each person, but didn't seem interested in
what they were doing. Their movement, or lack of movement, didn't seem
to affect the probe in any way.
As the glowing sphere approached the conn position, Tom Paris watched
it suspiciously. Kathryn Janeway was studying the light intently
looking for clues to understanding its purpose.
The white luminescence suddenly intensified in brightness, causing all
those present to instinctively shield their eyes---everyone except the
captain and the helmsman. The radiance had stopped moving, hovering in
midair at a point equidistant between the two of them. They stood
staring into the brilliance as if transfixed. Then as abruptly as it
had made its appearance, the probe disappeared.
In that instant, Tom Paris and Kathryn Janeway closed their eyes and
crumpled to the deck like marionettes with their strings cut. Chakotay
was beside the captain in a heartbeat, two fingers on her carotid
artery, checking her pulse. She was dazed and seemed disoriented.
"Captain?"
"What---what happened?" She was blinking her eyes rapidly as if in
some pain. "I can't see---can't focus. Spots."
Tuvok was checking on Paris' condition. The lieutenant hadn't moved or
made a sound. He was unconscious. Tuvok hit his commbadge.
"Transporter Room Two, medical emergency. Lock onto Lt. Paris'
commbadge and transport him to Sickbay at once." Paris disappeared in
the transporter beam as the captain got to her feet with Chakotay's
help. "In my opinion, you should go to Sickbay as well, Captain,"
Tuvok suggested.
It was a measure of Janeway's grogginess that she didn't attempt to
argue. She nodded and leaned heavily on Chakotay as he slipped her arm
over his shoulder and his arm around her waist to support her. "Feel
dizzy," she mumbled.
"Tuvok, you have the bridge," Chakotay ordered as he led his captain
into the turbolift. "See if you can find out what that was and its
source."
***************************
Ethan Simms and Mikel Hudson had just arrived in Engineering. They
were off duty and hoped to get a chance to talk to Malista Shadow on
her lunch break. They were spotted on arrival by B'Elanna Torres who
waved them into her office.
"What are you two doing here? I didn't think we had any tours
scheduled today." Her words sounded sharp, but her smile robbed them
of any sting.
"We were looking for Malista," Ethan said.
"Business or pleasure?" Torres said. Her smile was gone. Security
Officers looking for one of *her* crew? And she didn't know anything
about it? Torres tended to be very possessive and protective of her
crew. She could yell at them---and frequently did---but Kahless help
anyone else who did the same.
Simms and Hudson exchanged looks. "It's both," Hudson admitted.
"Do you know what's going on?" the chief engineer demanded.
"What do you mean?" Simms asked cautiously.
Torres growled under her breath. "Never mind. She ought to be on her
way back from the ship's library. Now that she finally got the
consoles working properly, the environmental controls are acting up. I
want to know what the----" She glanced up to find Simms and Hudson
staring at her. "Never mind. But if I don't find out what's going on,
and pretty damn *soon*, I am *not* going to be happy! Is that clear?"
She jabbed a finger in their direction.
"Yes, Lieutenant," the security officers replied in unison, the tone
of their voices carefully neutral though neither had any idea what
Torres was talking about or what they were supposed to do about it.
Better safe than sorry as far as irate Chief Engineers were concerned.
"There she is," Hudson said as he and Simms turned toward the exit.
Shadow and Gerron were just coming into Main Engineering when the
intruder alert sounded. Almost simultaneously, a bright sphere of
white light appeared near the warp core and began to scan the area.
"What is that?" Hudson whispered. There was no reply from his partner.
He shot a look at his friend.
Simms was motionless, his eyes fixed on the object. Hudson's eyes
darted around the Engineering section. Shadow and Nicoletti were in
the same condition. Everyone else seemed to be normally curious, but
no more than that. After approximately one minute, the glowing sphere
vanished.
>
Nicoletti sank into the chair behind her, holding her head as she
moaned. Shadow and Simms fell to the deck, unconscious. Torres called
for an emergency beamout for the two of them and asked Hudson to
escort Nicoletti to Sickbay. He was glad to oblige. He wanted to check
on his partner anyway.
***************************
There was standing room only in Sickbay. Six biobeds were occupied by
unconscious crewmen: Tom Paris, Malista Shadow, Megan Delaney, Janine
Lamont, Ethan Simms, and Sven Haldersen. There were another fifteen
or twenty who were conscious, but in the same state of confusion,
disorientation, and dizziness as the captain. They were seated in
chairs, on the other biobeds, or on the floor, awaiting treatment or
for their symptoms to subside. Jenny Delaney staggered to her feet,
offered her chair to Captain Janeway, and reseated herself on the edge
of her twin sister's bed.
Chakotay eased the captain down into the vacated seat then glanced
around at those present. Among the dizzy were Lt. Trent Salaka from
Biology, Lt. Sue Nicoletti from Engineering, Joe Carey who'd been off
duty in his quarters---they'd been all over the ship. Those who'd been
more severely affected had been on different decks as well.
The doctor was scanning the unconscious patients. He looked up as
Chakotay approached. "Would you mind telling me what is going on? I