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"Future Present, Future Past" by Lady Rainbow Rating: PG-13 Malcolm meets an unlikely ally and Columbia is under attack from a familiar front. Thanks for the edit, Pesterfield. (I had TNG on the brain...there aren't any civilians on Columbia. Oops. :)) Nine “On your feet!” Malcolm felt himself jerked to his feet, but didn’t resist as two of the soldiers supported him. Then he managed to raise his head and look around slowly, taking in his surroundings. He was in some kind of laboratory, with several monitors attached to three of the walls. The fourth wall was coated with some kind of dark, reflective material. “An observation room,” he murmured. Two-way mirror, probably. They can observe us, but we can’t see them. He squinted up into the light, then gripped the arm of his nearest supporter. Although his mind was alert, he acted dazed and confused to hide his own covert observation. “What is wrong with him?” asked a voice laced with irritation. The second voice was calm, soothing. “Perhaps he is having another one of his odd ‘episodes’. I do wish we had more time to study him. His body chemistry is unique compared with the other two—“ “We have no time. Our superiors want him at the forefront of the assault.” That got Malcolm’s attention. They were planning to assault another planet? Another ship? Enterprise? His throat suddenly went dry at the thought. What were they doing? His captors dragged him out of the room and down a corridor. The analytical part of his brain noticed every detail: the same reflective material on the walls, the reddish glow of the alert lights set in the ceiling. Other soldiers marched down the halls in their calm, unhurried pace, always in pairs. That was when he noticed that not all the soldiers were created equal. The low lights brought out the differences within each pair. One man’s black armor was covered with a thin layer of iridescent scales; it was barely visible to the naked eye, but it was there. Malcolm could understand why the colonists’ reports hadn’t mentioned it, for it was so faint. The second soldier wore no scales on the armor; instead of scales, he had the image of a hawk on his left bicep, with some kind of rank insignia. Perhaps one is enlisted and other an officer? That was a distinct possibility, for the ranked one seemed the dominant one of the pair. Malcolm and his captors came to an intersection in the corridors. A panicked shout came from his right, followed by angry words in an unfamiliar language. “Stay here,” said the officer in charge. Malcolm watched under lowered lids as he stalked down the right-hand corridor. Another “enlisted man” knelt in the middle of the hall with his head bowed in a gesture of submission. To Malcolm’s shock, that soldier had removed its helmet to reveal a hairless skull, the skin rough as weathered sandstone, its features chiseled within the face. “The poor fool,” murmured Malcolm’s captor. There was a trace of pity in the voice. “He must have disobeyed orders. Not a prudent thing to do.” The soldier knelt there, unmoving, as the two superior officers argued above him. Again, Malcolm felt that distinct thrill of unease, that sense that told him that this was all wrong. He wasn’t supposed to be here to witness this. This was not supposed to be happening like this. Then why was it happening? Time slowed for him as he watched in horror at what happened next. One of the officers unholstered his sidearm, then a bright flash erupted from that end of the hall. When it cleared, the fallen soldier lay on his back, his amber-gold eyes staring dumbly at the ceiling. Malcolm realized the man was of a species he’d never seen before, but seemed familiar nevertheless. The two officers traded more words, then one of them turned on his heel and stalked his way back to Malcolm. “Idiot Suliban,” the officer muttered as soon as he was within Malcolm’s range of hearing. “Useful in some ways, incompetent in others.” Malcolm filed the name in his memory. Suliban. Is that the name of one of the races involved? This Suliban appeared to be a slave race on this ship. Each one wore a different uniform from their superiors and was closely supervised. So the enemy ranks weren’t as cohesive as they seemed. Useful in some ways, incompetent in others. In which ways were they useful? “Come on,” said the officer. He grabbed Malcolm’s right arm and together, he and his Suliban subordinate half-dragged, half-carried Malcolm down the hall. A set of doors opened into some kind of shuttle bay. Malcolm raised his head as the thunder of boots echoed in the room. Soldiers stood rigidly at attention, each one fully dressed in combat armor and helmets. Now that Malcolm knew what to look for on the uniforms, he realized three-quarters of the group were Suliban, the rest were of the unknown officer corps. Each soldier stood on a lighted circular disk. Transporter pads. Malcolm struggled as they dragged him to an empty pad, then the officer told his subordinate. “Hold him still. Do not let him escape.” “Yes, Centurion.” Centurion? Malcolm blinked. As in a Roman centurion? They use Roman military ranking? Then another thought occurred to him. How am I able to understand what they’re saying? Hoshi would be the first to say that English is not the universal language... A low voice answered him. “Because you’ve been fitted with a kind of intradermal translator.” “What?” His Suliban keeper’s voice was barely audible. “Not so loud, Doctor. They will hear.” “Who are you?” “I am Silik. My people were subjugated by them—“ Malcolm heard the contempt in the Suliban’s voice. “They wish to expand their empire and enslave other peoples. They shift their borders at a moment’s whim and use that as an excuse to attack.” “Who are ‘them’?” “Listen to me, Doctor. Listen carefully.” Silik’s voice dropped even lower. “They will fit you with a collar filled with chemical explosives and put you at the head of the column. I can loosen it so you can rid yourself of it at the proper time. We will be going back to your ship and they want to use you as a weapon.” “We must stop them.” “And we will. Many of my fellows are on our side. Once we rid ourselves of our keepers, we will assist you against them.” “Can I trust you?” Malcolm couldn’t see Silik’s face, for the Suliban faced forward at perfect attention, but he heard the mixed humor and derision in Silik’s whisper. “You do not have a choice at this point, Doctor. So, are we agreed?” “All right, Silik. Just don’t handle me too roughly.” Again, the soft thread of laughter. “On the contrary, I believe you to be tougher than you appear. You managed to withstand Suliban interrogation and brainwashing techniques. You must educate us on your methods.” “I’m not sure I should be revealing trade secrets.” Malcolm couldn’t believe he was joking with Silik at a time like this, but the banter made him feel marginally better. I’m going to be used as a hostage and I must put my trust in someone whom I hardly know. Brilliant. At least we’re going back to Enterprise, and Hoshi... “...and we will not fail!” The officer paused in his rousing speech and raised his arm. “For the glory of the Romulan Star Empire!” The assembled soldiers roared in response, including Silik, Malcolm winced at the volume after their hurried and whispered conversation. The officer strode back to Malcolm’s side and with one smooth motion, snapped a metal collar around his neck. Malcolm could feel some kind of liquid within it as he moved his head and hear a low vibration just under his ear. “Energize!” As a shaft of light rose around him, Malcolm heard Silik’s voice whisper, “Trust me.” “Commander Daniels!” shouted Major Nate Kemper. “We’ve got an intruder alert on E Deck!” “Seal off the area. Tell Doctor Arroyo to lock the doors,” ordered Daniels. He nodded at Kemper. “Kick them off the ship, Major.” “Aye, sir.” Kemper rushed to the turbolift as Daniels turned to his comm officer. “Intruder alert, notify the crew to stay in quarters and their stations until further notice. Advise Enterprise that we are under attack.” The comm officer nodded and immediately followed his orders. Daniels felt a jolt under his feet, then another one. “What was that?” “Not us, Commander,” replied his temporary science officer, Lieutenant Davies. “Captain Gral just fired a shot off the enemy’s port nacelle. It nearly hit us.” “Get me Gral on the line, now!” Daniels felt a surge of anger at the trigger-happy Tellarite, but shoved it down and away from his conscious mind. Anger is deadly in a crisis situation. Control it! The Bridge shook again, this time from deep within Columbia. “What the—“ “Commander Daniels, command functions are being overridden!” Davies tapped furiously on her board. “I’m trying to scramble them—“ Daniels made a quick decision and punched a button on the command chair. “Command function security lockout, Daniels, code Omega-three-Alpha.” The computer chirped in acknowledgment, then its screen blanked out. The respite only lasted a minute or two, for the screen lit up again and characters raced across it. “Someone’s countermanding my order,” he muttered under his breath. “The only one who can do that is—“ His stomach dropped in horror as the realization hit him. “Oh God.” “Sir?” Davies asked. Daniels swore again, causing the Bridge crew to turn their heads to stare at him. “Daniels to Kemper.” “Kemper,” came the voice of Columbia’s Armory Officer. “Be advised that either the enemy managed to get Captain Hayes’s command codes or the captain himself is in the raiding party.” Kemper was silent for a moment, then he answered, “I think we just found out which one it is, Commander Daniels.” Daniels took a deep breath and went into full command mode, knowing he was probably going to pay for it later. “Defend the ship by any means necessary, Major. Try not to injure the captain, but--” He left the sentence unfinished. Kemper’s voice was just as grim. “Aye, sir. Kemper, out.” |
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