next to Paris and allowing the others to guide the conversation, her
eyes darting from speaker to speaker.
"We acted as a team, not individually," Haldersen said. "We sought to
protect the weakest among us instead of turning on each other. We
didn't pair off and go our own route. I'd say we demonstrated to any
observers that we have at least a tribe-like mentality."
"If they think we're non-sentient animals, how would they interpret
that sort of behavior?" Simms asked.
Lamont and Haldersen arrived at the same conclusion simultaneously. "A
pride," they chorused.
"Megan, have you and Jenny been giving lessons in choral speaking? Or
is it just the latest fashion?" Tom asked with a sardonic smile. He
looked to Shadow to share his amusement, but noticed she had withdrawn
into impassivity. Seeking to regain her attention, he seized her hand
and used her forefinger to point to Haldersen. "Elucidate, sir. A
pride?"
The scientist brightened, his enthusiasm for his subject growing as he
spoke. "Yes. That would fit with what they've been able to observe of
our human interaction. A pride of lions for example is a group of
animals that live and cooperate together. Usually there is a single
leader, but every animal has its own station within the group. There's
generally a whole hierarchical structure. Alpha Male, Alpha Female,
Beta Male, Beta Female, and so forth. Roles, responsibilities, and
privileges within the group are determined by the station occupied. "
"So you think they're trying to figure out our roles?" Simms asked.
"Studying how we behave in a crisis situation? What's next? A maze?"
"It wouldn't surprise me," Lamont commented. She smiled at Ethan as he
frowned his dismay at her remark. "It's a common way of evaluating
intelligence."
"So what are our roles?" Paris asked. "Have we given them enough
information in the short time we've been here for them to figure it
out? And once they figure it out? What's next?"
"I think it's pretty clear they know now that Tom is the Alpha Male,
the leader of our pride," Sven clarified for Malista's benefit,
bestowing a kind smile in her direction. If anything, she shrank
further away from the group, tucking herself behind Tom's shoulder.
Haldersen's next remark brought her upright and back into the
conversation immediately. "And, of course, Malista is demonstrably
the Alpha Female, the female leader of the pride, if you will."
"Me?" Her voice didn't quite squeak. "A leader? How do you figure
that?"
"Oh, I agree with him," Ensign Lamont concurred. "In fact, I think
that's why they didn't continue with their attempt to separate you
from the group. Somehow they must have decided early on that Tom was
the leader. Maybe because he was on the bridge the first time they
found him. Or for whatever reason, they decided he was a leader.
That's probably why he was allowed to see the rest of the group in
their separate cells. They were testing his reaction to the stimuli of
seeing others of his kind. No one else had that opportunity. I didn't
know any of you were here with me until we all found ourselves in the
same room."
"But why would they think that I'm the female leader? I haven't done
anything---" She wasn't sure whether to be amused or appalled at the
idea.
"Except save my life!" Paris reproved.
"And you ordered Ethan to help you," Megan added. "The minute Tom went
down, you took charge. They would take that as meaning you outranked
the other males."
"And Tom said you reacted violently when they came after you," Janine
noted. "After all, you did bite one of them." She still seemed torn
between shock and amusement. The ensign didn't think that course of
action would have occurred to her. Biting wasn't a typical tactic in
Starfleet training exercises. At least, not for humans.
"That may be why they didn't take her after all," Ethan announced
abruptly as the idea popped into his head. To his chagrin, five blank
gazes turned in his direction so he continued. "Well, they were going
to take her to see where she fit in---and when the lieutenant stepped
in and defended her, they probably assumed she was his. I mean, that
she belonged to him. That she was his mate. His pair. Whatever." His
words fumbled to a halt in confusion and dismay over his lack of tact.
Damn. He wished Mikel Hudson was here. His partner was much smoother
in crisis situations. And didn't blush as readily.
"I think Ethan is right," Janine agreed, smiling at him with approval
and respect. "He and I are obviously a pair. We can't keep our hands
off each other. They must have decided that Tom and Malista are a
matched set, leaving Megan paired with Sven, So now they know how to
pair us off and there was no reason to take Malista."
Tom and Malista swapped discomfited glances.
"We don't need to share that conclusion with B'Elanna Torres or Harry
Kim, however," Delaney wisecracked. "Okay, fine. So we're paired off.
Are they waiting for us to settle into our cage and set up
housekeeping? Now what?"
"What would be the next step in their experiments?" mused Paris.
"Further behavioral studies?" Lamont suggested. "How we react to
various stimuli?"
Malista's attention had wandered as she concentrated on an idea of her
own. "Tom, didn't you say we needed to gather intelligence?" Her eyes
drifted down from her regard of the top of the wall on one side of the
room to gaze at him thoughtfully. "We can't do that from here, can
we?"
Paris frowned suspiciously. Just from the innocent tone of her voice
and the deliberate rounding of her eyes in a persuasive plea, he knew
she was going to make a suggestion she knew he wouldn't like. "Yes.
That's SOP." He explained the term as she raised an eyebrow. "Standard
Operating Procedure. But we haven't been able to find a way to get out
of here either. Why? What do you have in mind?"
She smiled at him ingenuously and tilted her head back, her eyes going
to the top of the wall once more. The other five followed her line of
sight, trying to identify the object of her observation.
******************
"I think we've got it, Captain," Harry Kim asserted quietly, trying
not shout in his enthusiasm. "The fourth planet, the largest
continent. The sensors show a dead spot that could very well be a
domed city."
"Or it could be a naturally occurring sensory blind spot," Tuvok
commented. "Caused by interference----"
"It's more likely to be artificial!" Kim flashed back, then bit down
on his impatience with the Vulcan's pedantic attitude.
Tuvok just raised a supercilious eyebrow at the human's emotionalism.
It was left to the captain to question the Ops Officer's conclusion.
"Why do you believe it to be artificial in nature, Mr. Kim?"
"Because," Kim said, making no effort to distill the weary sense of
triumph from his voice, "the dead zone is perfectly hexagonal in
shape."
Janeway nodded w
ith a kindly smile. "Very good, Ensign. That isn't
likely to be a natural occurrence. Now, let's see if we can find a way
to punch through that interference so we can get a lock on our
crewmembers."
Lieutenant Torres joined Harry Kim at the Ops station and peered over
his shoulder as he worked. Fortunately, it didn't seem to distract
him. It might be hazardous to someone's health or ego to suggest that
the Chief Engineer could be more useful elsewhere. The captain wisely
decided not to make that suggestion. She'd found it was always better
to have potential problems where you could keep an eye on them.
Especially when the problem was a volatile half Klingon.
************
Four of The Six were watching the confrontation as if in the audience
of a particularly competitive hoverball match. Not that the other two
seemed to remember or care about their presence or opinions at this
moment.
Malista Shadow was so excited and agitated she was practically
bouncing as she marched rapidly from the wall to the bed and back
again as if she couldn't possibly stand still. "Tom! We all noticed
that the dome doesn't touch the top of the wall. There's a clearance
of at least fifteen feet! And the wall is wide enough to make it
possible, even easy. The partition has to be at least four inches
thick! I saw it when I ran between the two rooms!"
On the other hand, Tom Paris, standing next to the bed with his arms
tightly folded across his chest, was as immovable as a solid deuterium
security barricade. "You are NOT going to try it!"
"Well, what do you have in mind? Doing nothing? You said yourself we
need to gather information and we're not going to find out anything
sitting here in this---this cell!" The atypically belligerent tone
only seemed to reinforce his stubborn refusal to give any
consideration to her idea. She turned on her sisterly coaxing tone.
"Tom, it's wider than the tight rope in the circus program. I can do
this. I know I can. I'll be careful."
"You just don't get it, do you? Harry is my best friend. I am NOT
going back to Voyager and have to tell him I let you get yourself
killed." He took a step forward, trying to edge past her. "I'll do it
myself."
"The hell you will!" Malista shouted. She body-blocked him with her
shoulder. Unprepared for her reaction, he bounced back and stumbled to
regain his footing. Her hands shot out to clutch his upper arms to
steady him and to command his attention. But she'd made her point. He
hadn't fully recovered from the effects of being shocked by the alien
weapon. And whatever other tests had been performed on his unconscious
body.
Tom couldn't have been more astonished by her response than if she'd
pulled a bat'leth out of her bra and threatened him with it. He'd
expected a verbal response, but certainly not a physical one from his
typically timid adopted sister.
Simms struggled to his feet and urged Lamont to help him move around
the bed, drawing nearer to the quarreling duo. If this disagreement
was going to disintegrate into a physical confrontation.....
"Excuse me?"
Both Paris and Shadow turned, relocating their glares from each other
to Janine Lamont. "What?" they said in unison, in exactly the same
impatient tone. As soon as they heard and became aware of their
brusqueness, they each winced.
Malista gestured toward Tom. He could field this one since he wasn't
ready to listen to reason. She plopped down on the bed gracelessly,
looking for all the world like a sulky four year old as she crossed
her arms and frowned ferociously.
"Sorry, Janine," Tom apologized. "What did you want to say?"
Clutching Ethan's arm just a little more tightly, more for her support
than his, the petite blonde cleared her throat as she gazed up at the
taller man. "I was just wondering if it might help if we clarified one
point." She hesitated, not wishing to bring anyone's wrath down on her
head. Simms gave her hand an encouraging squeeze.
"Like what?" the lieutenant said with exaggerated patience and a glare
in Shadow's direction. When had his little sister turned into such
a---such a * woman*? Stubborn, pig-headed....Did she have Klingon
blood as well?
"What would be the purpose of Malista---or anyone---breaking out of
the cell?" Lamont asked timorously. Both parties fixed an aggravated
stare in her direction.
"Reconnaissance," Simms supplied, unasked. "An exploration of the area
to gather information."
"Information like what?" Delaney demanded. "How big our cage is? I
think Tom's right. It would just be taking a foolish chance. What
would it accomplish?"
Hurt by the contempt she thought she heard in her friend's voice, the
usually placid and conciliatory Shadow stung back waspishly. "I might
be able to find a way out of here. Would you rather just sit around
and wait to see what tests those aliens will think up next? The next
one may be more unpleasant than just twisting your elbow!"
The redhead's temper flared to meet the brunette's. "And you might
just get yourself killed---or provoke them into killing us if they
think we're animals that aren't trainable or won't stay in captivity."
"Do you want to live in captivity? I don't. Been there and done that
and don't want to do it again," Shadow snarled, almost under her
breath. Lost in her own thoughts, she dropped her gaze to her knotted
fingers and tried to muster the best arguments for her proposed course
of action.
Taking a deep breath, Paris stepped between the two women and
reclaimed the attention of the group. "Hey, let's all take a step back
and calm down here. No need to get stressed out. Janine raised a valid
point. We need to analyze our options. What can we realistically hope
to gain if we send out a scout? Malista---or anyone else," he added
emphatically, letting her and the others know that the issue of who
would be going was far from settled. If anyone went at all.
"I might be able to find our communicators. Or tricorders. I MIGHT be
able to find a weapon----" Shadow began, in not quite a shout. She
didn't know why she was so angry or exactly who she was angry with,
but she couldn't seem to keep her emotions in check right now. Her
dispassionate mask had disappeared, at least for the time being.
"Malista makes a good point," Simms said placatingly. "If we could
locate our equipment, especially the communicators, it might help
Voyager find us. If they're within range. At least, it would give them
a signal to lock onto when they get into range."
The Greek woman smiled her appreciation at him and turned it into a
triumphant 'so there' smirk as she shifted her attention back to
Paris. She resisted the strong temptation to stick out her tongue at
him.
"We don't know what happened to our equipment," Delaney pointed out.
"If we could find it, it might be useless. They probably disassembled
it for study."
For some reason Haldersen flinched at
that comment, but didn't speak.
He was a scientist. He'd never sought command and had no desire to
take a leadership role. His function was to provide information, but
he'd wait until he was asked to even do that. Especially if the
information was something he and they would rather not know or think
about.
"Maybe there is a way out of this place," Simms said. "Shouldn't we at
least try to find out? We don't know what kinds of information we
might be able to find."
"It would help if we could find a way to communicate with them,"
Delaney sighed. "We can't convince them we're sentient, if we can't
communicate. Can we?"
Paris was growing more frustrated by the moment. He wanted to take
action. Some kind of action. His lack of options was irritating and
the responsibility for the well-being of his crewmates weighed on him
like a targ's tritanium training collar. Protocol and all his training
demanded that he accept that responsibility. He was the ranking
officer. The final decision on any course of action would be made by
him.
So he intended to get all the input he could before making any
decision of any sort. No rushing into action without thinking of the
possible consequences. "What other purpose would it serve to separate
the group by sending someone out, or up, to look around?" he repeated.
Just then Sven Haldersen's stomach rumbled again. Loudly. The tension
in the room eased slightly as The Six shared a laugh even as the Swede
Trials 04 Shadow's Trial Page 42