Blood and Fire 05 - Acts of Sacrifice
Title: Blood and Fire
Author: Soledad
Fandom: Star Trek - The Next Generation
Author's notes:
For disclaimer and background information go to the secondary index page.
Jerôme Baila is a recurring security officer who appears in many TNG episodes, starting with the pilot itself. We never learn his name, though, and I can’t remember him having any dialogue, although I might be wrong.
Rating: Teens for this part, for certain horror elements.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
CHAPTER 05 - ACTS OF SACRIFICE
Mere minutes later, Jerôme Baila, Worf’s right-hand man, escorted Commander Yarell and Doctor Blodgett to the captain’s ready room. Barely had the door closed behind them, Data was summoned there, too. The android handed over command to Worf and joined them in as much a hurry as he could afford while keeping up the appearance of what he considered proper dignity for a senior Starfleet officer.
It was amazing how fast dignity could move if processed by a positronic brain.
“Sit with us, Commander,” Picard ordered the android, “and please engage recording mode. I want an official record about this conversation. I think it’s high time that we get some answers.”
“I can’t imagine what kind of answers you expect to hear, Captain,” Yarell said dismissively.
Picard gave her a cold glare that usually made battle-hardened Starfleet veterans shake in their boots. As a rule, the captain of the Enterprise was calm, collected and supremely patient. Rarely did he lose the tight grip on his control. But if he did, the following outbreak was… spectacular, to say the least.
“The truth, Commander,” he now said in a coldly furious voice. “Surely it is a concept even an Intelligence officer must have heard about occasionally. I know that your lot prefers to operate in the shadows, and I know that regulations often back your actions, even if they are questionable at best. But now you’ve endangered not the Copernicus only, but also my ship, with families and children aboard; and you’ll tell me the reason, or so God help me, I’ll send you both on a space walk without an EVA suit.”
“Is that a threat, Captain?” Yarell asked, while Blodgett blanched in fear; an enraged Picard often had that effect on people, even on less cowardly ones than the civilian scientist.
“Oh, no, Commander,” Picard replied softly, his eyes very, very dark. “It’s a promise. And I’m a man known to keep his promises.”
Yarell gave him a look of stunned disbelief.
“You wouldn’t dare…” she began.
Picard just kept staring at her darkly. “Try me.”
“You’d be court-martialed,” she said, trying to look confident… and failing.
“And you would be dead,” Picard countered, without missing a beat. “I consider that a bargain.”
“Commander, I hope you’ve recorded everything,” Yarell said to Data. “These threats will serve as hard evidence in Captain Picard’s court-martial.”
“I do not think so,” the android replied amiably. “I might be a sophisticated machine, but not even I am perfect. There can be glitches in my system. Records can be damaged… or completely lost.”
“Are you telling me that you’ll be intentionally manipulating records for your captain’s sake?” Yarell all but hissed at him.
“No, Commander,” Data answered. “I am telling you that I do not take orders from you. You are not my superior officer, you come from a different branch, and you do not outrank me. According to my programming, I can only take orders from those directly above me in the chain of command. Those would be Commander Riker and, of course, Captain Picard himself.”
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence, as there couldn’t be the slightest doubt that both Picard and Data meant every word they’d said. Finally Yarell, with a derisive glance at the sweating and shaking Blodgett, shrugged.
“Fine,” she said. “You won’t be the ones who decide about the outcome of this mission anyway. Yes, I was the one who authorised the Copernicus’ visit to Regulus VI. It was a calculated risk.”
“A calculated risk?” Picard replied in absolute shock. “What on Earth could bring anyone to the harebrained idea of violating the Regulan quarantine and taking the worse plague in the entire galaxy aboard a Starfleet vessel?”
“Captain,” Yarell said in a condescending manner, “you fail to see the big picture here. There’s is an undeclared state of war existing between the Federation and the Ferengi Alliance, and Starfleet Intelligence is extremely concerned of what would happen should the greedy little trolls decide to unleash the threat of the bloodworms into Federation territory.”
“You can’t be serious!” Picard frowned. “The Ferengi Alliance hadn’t fought a war against anyone for at least a century! They may make profit of ongoing wars, yes, but they always let others to do the killing and dying part.”
“And what about your encounter with a hostile Ferengi vessel, Captain?” Yarell reminded him. “You very nearly lost the Stargazer with all hands on board by that occasion.”
“It was exactly that: an isolated incident, involving two single ships,” Picard replied. “Not something one should blow up to a declaration of war.”
“The Ferengi are businessmen,” Data added. “Their ultimate goal is profit. It would be contraproductive for them to infest the area where they intend to expand their influence with an incurable disease.”
Dr. Blodgett cleared his throat. “No longer incurable,” he corrected. “Our mission was to find a way to contain plasmasite infestation. We - that is, Commander Ahrens, Lieutenant Hagen and myself - have made a tremendous amount of progress in our studies. We might not have the cure yet, but we’ve come really close.”
“Interesting,” Data commented. “There is no evidence in the logs of the Copernicus that would support this statement.”
“I’m afraid I’ll have to take the blame for that as well,” Yarell said calmly. “There were no official log entries made. We could not take the chance of their studies falling into Ferengi hands.”
Data glanced at Picard. “In this point I must agree with the Commander, Captain. While the Ferengi might not use the plasmasites as a doomsday weapon in a war of their own, they will not hesitate to sell them to warring parties fighting in safe distance from their area of interest. That is something we cannot allow, in my opinion.”
“It’s good to see that at least one of your officers can see what needs to be done, Captain,” Yarell said snidely. “Even if it’s only a robot.”
Data blinked several times in confusion. “Correction, Commander. I am an android, not a robot. There is significant difference between…”
Picard raised a hand. “Data… not now!”
“Of course, Captain,” the android dropped the topic at once. “In any case, Doctor Blodgett, I need access to your studies… that is the only chance to save the people aboard the Copernicus, should the blood transfusions take too long. I assume you did make personal records.”
“Of course,” the man said. “We couldn’t have worked any other way. The records are with Doctor Hagen aboard the Copernicus, though… password-protected and encoded.”
“Get them,” Picard ordered Data, “and see to it that Sickbay finds a way to use them, if necessary.”
“Aye, Captain,” the android left.
Yarell stared at Picard accusingly. “Captain Picard, are you aware of the fact that you’re sabotaging the most important biomedical research of the decade? One of the assignments of this ship is to defend allies, and that is what the plasmasites would enable us to do: to create a weapon that, by its very existence, would frighten the enemies of the Federation away, without the need to actually use it.”
“That’s the same argument people came up with just before building the first nuclear bomb,” Picard answered dryly, “and we both know where that brilliant idea has led mankind. Wherever such a doomsday weapon exists, invariably so does the temptation to use it. Yes, it is one of our assignments is to defend allies, but the Enterprise is not a military vessel. She’s a vessel of exploration, sent out to be the mobile embassy of the Federation among stars, planets and species previously unknown. You had no right to endanger the lives of a thousand people - among them civilians with small children - because of your imaginary war with the Ferengi.”
Yarell gave him another one of those condescending looks.
“My dear Captain Picard,” she said, “You still don’t understand, do you? The lives aboard the Copernicus, even the lives aboard the Enterprise, are of no importance compared with the plasmasite studies. We cannot afford to be second best to anyone. It’s that simple.”
“No, I’m afraid it isn’t,” Picard touched to his comm badge. “Picard to Worf.”
“Worf here,” the gruff voice of the Klingon answered.
“Lieutenant, I want a full security detail in my ready room,” Picard told him. “I want Commander Yarell and Doctor Blodgett escorted to their quarters. They’re not allowed to leave those rooms without a security escort; and they’re not allowed, under any circumstances, to access the comm system, be it short-range, long-range or subspace communication. Is that understood?”
“Understood, Captain.”
“Good. And when they’re gone, you’ll give me Doctor Selar on a secure channel.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Selar listened to the captain’s news with intense focus. The news was cautiously encouraging; assuming she’d be able to persuade the Betazoid scientist to surrender to her the private logs of Doctor Blodgett. Fortunately, she could be very persuasive if she put her mind to it.
“Lieutenant LaForge and Ensigns Nadel and Burke have been beamed back to the Enterprise, with most of the Copernicus’ survivors,” she informed Picard. “Commander Riker, Doctor Hagen and Ensign Freeman will follow as soon as Haematology Lab can provide them with the necessary blood for the transfusion. That will take time… we are slightly behind schedule, according to Doctor Martin. Lieutenant Eakins and I will be the last. In the meantime, I shall… discuss the problem with Doctor Hagen.”
The Betazoid seemed to become all nervous and defensive by that declaration.
“I don’t know what I could possibly do to help you, Doctor,” she said.
“You can start with handing me over Doctor Blodgett’s research,” Selar answered calmly.
Dr. Hagen produced an almost convincing frown. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said.
“I find that highly unlikely,” Selar replied. “According to Captain Picard, Doctor Blodgett has left his research documents - and presumably more than just documents - here, on the Copernicus, with you. At least that is what Doctor Blodgett says, and I see no logical reason for him to lie about it.”
“Perhaps not,” the Betazoid said. “But it doesn’t mean that I’d be obliged to hand the results over to you. That is very… sensitive research, on a need-to-know basis.”
“In case you have not realized, Doctor, we do need to know,” Selar answered. “Should you have found a cure against plasmasite infestation, you are obliged to hand it over to me. There are infested people all around you, and thousand other people aboard the Enterprise put to the risk, should the infestation spread.”
“What we found, is merely an enzyme suppressant,” Hagen explained. “An experimental one, which might hinder the plasmasites in feeding on the necessary enzymes in human blood. But it has never been tested. There’s no guarantee that it would actually work. And I’m not authorized to hand over the results to anyone else than Commander Yarell or Doctor Blodgett.”
“I see,” Selar said. “Well, I could argue with you all day, and given enough time, you actually might recognize the logic of my demand. Unfortunately for you, we do not have the time for that. So, either you hand me over the results voluntarily, or I shall take what I need to find directly from your mind.”
The Betazoid stared at the Vulcan in stunned disbelief. “You wouldn’t… A forced mind-meld…”
“… could turn your brain to useless organic residue, yes,” Selar answered calmly. “That would be unfortunate indeed, as you are said to have an excellent scientific mind. I would regret to destroy it, but in this particular the needs of the many clearly outweigh the needs of the few… or a single person. Consequently, I am allowed to use limited violence within the defined parameters of my duty as the acting Chief Medical Officer of the Enterprise.”
“You damn Vulcans and your defined parameters!” Dr. Hagen snarled, her beautiful face twisting into a grotesque mask of anger and hatred. “You make it so easy for yourselves to twist everything according to your own interest. Even your own rules!”
“On the contrary,” Selar replied coolly. “The demands on a Vulcan's character are extraordinarily difficult. Do not mistake composure for ease. If I do this, if I take the information I need from your mind by force, I shall be excluded from the medical department of the Vulcan Academy of Sciences, and dishonourably discharged as a Starfleet officer. I might also lose custody of my daughter. Such things are taken very seriously on Vulcan, so do not tell me I am making this easy for myself.”
“You could lose everything you’ve been working for all your life, and yet you’d be wiling to do it nonetheless?” Eakins asked in surprise. “Why?”
“Because the needs of the many do outweigh the needs of the few… or those of a single person, even if that person is me,” Selar answered. “We need to stop this threat, here and now. No matter what the costs are.”
“I would give her what she wants if I were you,” Freeman told Dr. Hagen encouragingly. “She isn’t bluffing. I’ve been working with her for years, and she’s never said anything that she wouldn’t actually mean.”
Dr. Hagen hesitated for a moment, fear for her own mental health and stubbornness clearly warring in her mind… then she fished a decoder chip from the pocket of her blue uniform tunic and tossed it at Selar. The Vulcan caught it mid-air effortlessly.
“The experimental serum is in the Isolation Lab,” the Betazoid told her smugly. “In our sickbay.”
Which meant outside the repulsor field, in the middle of a swarm of bloodworms… a swarm of unknown magnitude. Whoever would go there, it would be a suicidal act at best.
Selar glanced at Riker. “I am the only one with a hazmat suit, Commander. I shall go.”
“No,” Riker answered grimly. “We all go. It will take the bloodworms some time to realize we aren’t here anymore… and being unprotected might inspire Doctor Hagen here to be a little more cooperative,” he touched his comm badge. “Riker to Enterprise. Mr. O’Brien, beam us over to the Copernicus’ sickbay. All of us.”
“Number One, are you sure you want to leave the relative safety of the repulsor field?” Picard, who’d been monitoring their conversation, asked in concern.
“We have no other choice, Captain,” Riker answered. “That’s where the experimental serum is stored; and the repulsor field’s going to fail within moments anyway.”
“Very well,” Picard said with a heavy sigh. “Make it so, Mr. O’Brien.”
“Transfer complete, sir,” O’Brien reported a moment later.
“The repulsor field in the cargo bay of the Copernicus has weakened considerably, Captain,” Data added, almost at the same time. “It will shut down completely in two point nine six minutes.”
“How long until the bloodworms figure out where our people have gone?” Picard asked.
“Unknown, Captain,” the android replied. “We do not know whether the plasmasites possess any rudimental intelligence at all… or probably a hive mind that would allow them coordinated attacks. Another possibility would be…”
“Thank you, Mr. Data,” Picard interrupted. “Just… monitor their progress closely.”
“Of course, Captain,” Data didn’t understand why his commanding officer would feel it necessary to repeat previously given orders. Humans - well, organic beings in general - could be really confusing sometimes.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The rest of the Enterprise away team rematerialized in the Copernicus’ sickbay, with a very reluctant Betazoid scientist in tow. Eakins switched on the tricorder and scanned their surroundings.
“No other lifesigns in a radius of twenty metres,” he reported to Riker, “But we’ve seen how quickly that could change. We should hurry up, sir.”
“You get no argument from me,” Riker said grimly.
“Show me the way,” Selar ordered Dr. Hagen.
The Betazoid led her to the isolation lab and showed her the safety storage unit where the experimental serum was kept. Selar removed the small cooler box with the sealed vials within and pushed it into Freeman’s hands.
“Fill the syringes with the serum, Ensign,” she ordered, “While I download all necessary information. We shall start injecting everyone as soon as the serum has reached standard body temperature.”
“Leave one vial untouched, Freeman,” Riker added. “Doctor Selar will take it to the Enterprise as soon as she’s completed the download.”
“Commander, I should remain here,” the Vulcan started protesting, but Riker silenced her with a gesture.
“No, Doctor. You’re the only one who might still be uninfected, due to the hazmat gear; and the only one who knows how to use the serum for further research.”
“I am certain that Doctor Hagen has extensive knowledge about that,” Selar pointed out. “More extensive than I have, in fact.”
“Yeah, but I wouldn’t trust her any further than I could throw her,” Riker answered, “Which I’d actually love to do. Preferably through an open airlock. So, I’d ask you to take her with you, least I’d give in to the temptation.”
“Doctor Selar,” Freeman said, staring at the opened cooler bow with a frown. “There are only four vials here.”
“That should be enough,” Selar replied. “Doctor Hagen and I have not been exposed to the plasmasites yet, so we can be beamed over to the Enterprise’s Isolation Lab with minimal risk for our medical personnel.”
“If you move now,” Riker said.
“We shall,” Selar removed the decoder chip from the medical computer and pocketed it, together with her medical tricorder. “Data transfer completed. We are ready to go.”
“Understood,” Riker touched his comm badge. “Riker to Enterprise. Captain, we have the data - and a sample of the enzyme suppressant - secured. Doctor Selar and Doctor Hagen are ready to beam over with it; beaming directly to the Isolation Lab.”
“Acknowledged,” Picard said. “What about the rest of you?”
“We’ll give the enzyme suppressant a trial run,” Riker explained, “hoping that it works and keeps us alive until we can receive our transfusions.”
“You’re taking a great risk, Number One,” Picard warned.
“Yes, we are,” Riker agreed, “but if we don’t we’ll be dead anyway. It’s not like we’d have that many chances.”
“Unfortunately, that’s true,” Picard admitted. “Very well. Carry on, Number One. Enterprise out.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
A moment later the transporter beam caught and carried away Selar and Hagen. They took one vial with the enzyme suppressant sample and the research date with them. Now everything was up to the medical staff of the Enterprise.
Eakins looked at Riker. “What now, sir?”
“Keep scanning the area for bloodworms,” Riker instructed. “I’ll seal the doors in the meantime. And the maintenance tunnel entrances.”
“That still leaves the ventilation system, sir,” Eakins reminded him.
Riker shrugged. “Yeah, I know, but we need to breathe. At least blocking all other possible access routes will narrow down the possibilities for the worms, too.”
“And let them concentrate their efforts to break through the airducts,” Eakins said morosely.
“Let’s hope we’ll be safely gone before that,” Riker said, looking at Freeman. “How long till you can give us the shots, Ensign?”
“The serum will reach the average human body temperature within the minute, Sir,” Freeman replied, eyeing the readouts on the box. “I don’t dare to break the seal before that; it might damage the serum.”
“I just hope we do have that minute left,” Eakins commented sourly.
Freeman didn’t answer. Something caught his attention concerning the vials. Something he didn’t like at all.
The seal on one of the vials seemed to be broken. Or, at least, damaged. That was not good, not good at all.
“Is something wrong, Ensign?” Riker asked, seeing the frown deepen on the medical technician’s slightly pudgy face.
“No, sir,” Freeman lied smoothly. “The serum has reached the right temperature now.”
“Good,” Riker said, clearly relieved. “I want the two of you go first.”
“That wouldn’t be such a good idea, sir,” Freeman tried to speak as calmly as possible. “I should be the last one, so that I can take the necessary measures, should either of you have an allergic reaction to the suppressant. This serum hasn’t been tested yet; negative side effects are well within the realm of possibility.”
“Nonsense,” Eakins argued. “Emergency measures can be taken after we’ve been beamed over to the Enterprise. But you won’t be able to protect yourself when we are both k.o. You aren’t a trained security officer.”
“I still can fire a phaser if I have to,” Freeman filled two of the hypospray syringes from the vials with the unbroken seal and inserted them into the handy little instrument. “Besides, I am a trained medical technician, and thereby I declare this pointless argument for closed.”
Before the other two could have answered, he stepped up first to Riker, then to Eakins and pressed the hypospray to their necks, injecting the enzyme suppressant directly into their bloodstream.
The results were… mixed at best. Riker lost consciousness at once. Eakins had enough time to toss his phaser at his partner.
“Just in case,” he whispered before falling unconscious, too.
Freeman touched his com badge. “Ensign Freeman to Enterprise. Commander Riker and Lieutenant Eakins have lost consciousness upon being given the serum; it might be an allergic reaction. They should be beamed directly to Sickbay.”
“Understood,” Picard replied. “What about you, Ensign?”
“The seal on the last vial seems to be broken,” Freeman explained. “I don’t dare to inject myself with the serum; it could have been compromised. I’ll have to wait for the blood transfusion as I am.”
“Sickbay will have the blood ready in eight minutes,” Picard told him. “Can you hold out that long?”
“I don’t know, sir,” Freeman answered honestly. “It depends on how long it takes for the worms to find me.”
“Do you have any weapons?” Picard asked.
“Lieutenant Eakins gave me his phaser, but…” Freeman trailed off. They both knew how little a mere hand phaser would help him against the indestructible creatures.
“I see,” Picard sighed. “I’ll tell Sickbay to hurry up. Enterprise out.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
“Captain,” O’Brien called the bridge, “Commander Riker and Lieutenant Eakins have arrived. According to the medical emergency team, they’re in a reasonably good shape and will regain consciousness, soon. Doctor Selar has put them under quarantine in Auxiliary Sickbay, until the blood transfusion can be completed.”
“What about Selar and Doctor Hagen?” Picard asked.
“They haven’t been infected,” O’Brien said. “Doctor Hagen is on her way to the bridge. She says she wants to hand in an official complaint against Doctor Selar.”
“Understood. Keep the transporter on standby,” Picard ordered. “We might have to beam out Ensign Freeman in a hurry.”
“Yes, sir,” O’Brien signed out.
In the meantime, Doctor Hagen reached the bridge, and simultaneously, Auxiliary Sickbay reported that Riker and Eakins had regained consciousness and were feeling well… considering the circumstances.
“Does this mean that we’ve actually found a cure?” Picard asked.
But Selar nipped his hopes in the bud. “No, Captain. The enzyme suppressor merely buys us time to perform the blood transfusion on the infected person. However, I do believe that we could use Doctor Blodgett’s research to develop an actual cure. The results look promising. I would like to ask your permission to have him work in Haematology Lab, sir.”
“Do you trust him?” Picard asked.
“No,” Selar replied bluntly. “But he is our only expert on plasmasites, and we need him. Perhaps Counselor Troi could monitor him and alert us when he tries to mislead us.”
Picard looked at Troi who was already rising from her seat. “On my way, Captain.”
“Do you want Doctor Hagen’s help as well?” Picard asked Selar.
“No, Captain,” the Vulcan replied. “She is a full Betazoid, and as such she would be able to mask her true intentions from Counselor Troi. Doctor Blodgett would not. I suggest putting Doctor Hagen under arrest for the time being. I do not believe that we could trust her.”
“I find myself in complete agreement,” Picard looked at Worf. “Have her quarters watched, Mr. Worf. Choose the telepathically least sensitive security personnel. We do not need any more nasty surprises.”
“Yes, sir,” the Klingon gestured to two security guards who removed the pretty Betazoid scientist from the bridge.
“Freeman to Enterprise,” the panicked voice of the medical technician came through the comm system. “Can you beam me over, now? I can hear the sound of the bloodworms approaching through the ventilation system… according to the tricorder, there are hundreds of them!”
“Mr. O’Brien?” Picard prompted.
“I can’t get a lock on him,” the voice of the transporter chief was a little frantic. “His lifesigns are masked by those of the bloodworms… There are too many of them, and they’re too close to him… If I tried to beam him over, I’d get the bloodworms, too… Captain, I’m sorry, but there’s just no way to separate them.”
“I see,” Picard said heavily. “Keep trying, Mr. O’Brien.”
“There’s gotta be something you could do!” Eakins’ anguished voice could be heard through the channel that was still open to Auxiliary Sickbay. “You can’t just have those… those things eat him alive. Colin! Colin!”
“I’m sorry, Dan, I really am,” Freeman answered from aboard the Copernicus, his voice heavy with resignation. “This isn’t how I’ve imagined things to go on. Thank God you left met eh phaser. It will make everything easier.”
“Colin, no!” Eakins cried out in despair.
“I’m sorry,” Freeman repeated.
Then there was a loud, bone-shattering scream before the sound of a single phaser burst could be heard, signifying the end of the man’s life. The open com channel to the Copernicus filled with static.
“Turn it off,” Picard ordered Worf. “There’s nothing we can do. I’ll be in my ready room, composing a report to Starfleet Command. Call me if I’m needed.”
Author: Soledad
Fandom: Star Trek - The Next Generation
Author's notes:
For disclaimer and background information go to the secondary index page.
Jerôme Baila is a recurring security officer who appears in many TNG episodes, starting with the pilot itself. We never learn his name, though, and I can’t remember him having any dialogue, although I might be wrong.
Rating: Teens for this part, for certain horror elements.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
CHAPTER 05 - ACTS OF SACRIFICE
Mere minutes later, Jerôme Baila, Worf’s right-hand man, escorted Commander Yarell and Doctor Blodgett to the captain’s ready room. Barely had the door closed behind them, Data was summoned there, too. The android handed over command to Worf and joined them in as much a hurry as he could afford while keeping up the appearance of what he considered proper dignity for a senior Starfleet officer.
It was amazing how fast dignity could move if processed by a positronic brain.
“Sit with us, Commander,” Picard ordered the android, “and please engage recording mode. I want an official record about this conversation. I think it’s high time that we get some answers.”
“I can’t imagine what kind of answers you expect to hear, Captain,” Yarell said dismissively.
Picard gave her a cold glare that usually made battle-hardened Starfleet veterans shake in their boots. As a rule, the captain of the Enterprise was calm, collected and supremely patient. Rarely did he lose the tight grip on his control. But if he did, the following outbreak was… spectacular, to say the least.
“The truth, Commander,” he now said in a coldly furious voice. “Surely it is a concept even an Intelligence officer must have heard about occasionally. I know that your lot prefers to operate in the shadows, and I know that regulations often back your actions, even if they are questionable at best. But now you’ve endangered not the Copernicus only, but also my ship, with families and children aboard; and you’ll tell me the reason, or so God help me, I’ll send you both on a space walk without an EVA suit.”
“Is that a threat, Captain?” Yarell asked, while Blodgett blanched in fear; an enraged Picard often had that effect on people, even on less cowardly ones than the civilian scientist.
“Oh, no, Commander,” Picard replied softly, his eyes very, very dark. “It’s a promise. And I’m a man known to keep his promises.”
Yarell gave him a look of stunned disbelief.
“You wouldn’t dare…” she began.
Picard just kept staring at her darkly. “Try me.”
“You’d be court-martialed,” she said, trying to look confident… and failing.
“And you would be dead,” Picard countered, without missing a beat. “I consider that a bargain.”
“Commander, I hope you’ve recorded everything,” Yarell said to Data. “These threats will serve as hard evidence in Captain Picard’s court-martial.”
“I do not think so,” the android replied amiably. “I might be a sophisticated machine, but not even I am perfect. There can be glitches in my system. Records can be damaged… or completely lost.”
“Are you telling me that you’ll be intentionally manipulating records for your captain’s sake?” Yarell all but hissed at him.
“No, Commander,” Data answered. “I am telling you that I do not take orders from you. You are not my superior officer, you come from a different branch, and you do not outrank me. According to my programming, I can only take orders from those directly above me in the chain of command. Those would be Commander Riker and, of course, Captain Picard himself.”
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence, as there couldn’t be the slightest doubt that both Picard and Data meant every word they’d said. Finally Yarell, with a derisive glance at the sweating and shaking Blodgett, shrugged.
“Fine,” she said. “You won’t be the ones who decide about the outcome of this mission anyway. Yes, I was the one who authorised the Copernicus’ visit to Regulus VI. It was a calculated risk.”
“A calculated risk?” Picard replied in absolute shock. “What on Earth could bring anyone to the harebrained idea of violating the Regulan quarantine and taking the worse plague in the entire galaxy aboard a Starfleet vessel?”
“Captain,” Yarell said in a condescending manner, “you fail to see the big picture here. There’s is an undeclared state of war existing between the Federation and the Ferengi Alliance, and Starfleet Intelligence is extremely concerned of what would happen should the greedy little trolls decide to unleash the threat of the bloodworms into Federation territory.”
“You can’t be serious!” Picard frowned. “The Ferengi Alliance hadn’t fought a war against anyone for at least a century! They may make profit of ongoing wars, yes, but they always let others to do the killing and dying part.”
“And what about your encounter with a hostile Ferengi vessel, Captain?” Yarell reminded him. “You very nearly lost the Stargazer with all hands on board by that occasion.”
“It was exactly that: an isolated incident, involving two single ships,” Picard replied. “Not something one should blow up to a declaration of war.”
“The Ferengi are businessmen,” Data added. “Their ultimate goal is profit. It would be contraproductive for them to infest the area where they intend to expand their influence with an incurable disease.”
Dr. Blodgett cleared his throat. “No longer incurable,” he corrected. “Our mission was to find a way to contain plasmasite infestation. We - that is, Commander Ahrens, Lieutenant Hagen and myself - have made a tremendous amount of progress in our studies. We might not have the cure yet, but we’ve come really close.”
“Interesting,” Data commented. “There is no evidence in the logs of the Copernicus that would support this statement.”
“I’m afraid I’ll have to take the blame for that as well,” Yarell said calmly. “There were no official log entries made. We could not take the chance of their studies falling into Ferengi hands.”
Data glanced at Picard. “In this point I must agree with the Commander, Captain. While the Ferengi might not use the plasmasites as a doomsday weapon in a war of their own, they will not hesitate to sell them to warring parties fighting in safe distance from their area of interest. That is something we cannot allow, in my opinion.”
“It’s good to see that at least one of your officers can see what needs to be done, Captain,” Yarell said snidely. “Even if it’s only a robot.”
Data blinked several times in confusion. “Correction, Commander. I am an android, not a robot. There is significant difference between…”
Picard raised a hand. “Data… not now!”
“Of course, Captain,” the android dropped the topic at once. “In any case, Doctor Blodgett, I need access to your studies… that is the only chance to save the people aboard the Copernicus, should the blood transfusions take too long. I assume you did make personal records.”
“Of course,” the man said. “We couldn’t have worked any other way. The records are with Doctor Hagen aboard the Copernicus, though… password-protected and encoded.”
“Get them,” Picard ordered Data, “and see to it that Sickbay finds a way to use them, if necessary.”
“Aye, Captain,” the android left.
Yarell stared at Picard accusingly. “Captain Picard, are you aware of the fact that you’re sabotaging the most important biomedical research of the decade? One of the assignments of this ship is to defend allies, and that is what the plasmasites would enable us to do: to create a weapon that, by its very existence, would frighten the enemies of the Federation away, without the need to actually use it.”
“That’s the same argument people came up with just before building the first nuclear bomb,” Picard answered dryly, “and we both know where that brilliant idea has led mankind. Wherever such a doomsday weapon exists, invariably so does the temptation to use it. Yes, it is one of our assignments is to defend allies, but the Enterprise is not a military vessel. She’s a vessel of exploration, sent out to be the mobile embassy of the Federation among stars, planets and species previously unknown. You had no right to endanger the lives of a thousand people - among them civilians with small children - because of your imaginary war with the Ferengi.”
Yarell gave him another one of those condescending looks.
“My dear Captain Picard,” she said, “You still don’t understand, do you? The lives aboard the Copernicus, even the lives aboard the Enterprise, are of no importance compared with the plasmasite studies. We cannot afford to be second best to anyone. It’s that simple.”
“No, I’m afraid it isn’t,” Picard touched to his comm badge. “Picard to Worf.”
“Worf here,” the gruff voice of the Klingon answered.
“Lieutenant, I want a full security detail in my ready room,” Picard told him. “I want Commander Yarell and Doctor Blodgett escorted to their quarters. They’re not allowed to leave those rooms without a security escort; and they’re not allowed, under any circumstances, to access the comm system, be it short-range, long-range or subspace communication. Is that understood?”
“Understood, Captain.”
“Good. And when they’re gone, you’ll give me Doctor Selar on a secure channel.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Selar listened to the captain’s news with intense focus. The news was cautiously encouraging; assuming she’d be able to persuade the Betazoid scientist to surrender to her the private logs of Doctor Blodgett. Fortunately, she could be very persuasive if she put her mind to it.
“Lieutenant LaForge and Ensigns Nadel and Burke have been beamed back to the Enterprise, with most of the Copernicus’ survivors,” she informed Picard. “Commander Riker, Doctor Hagen and Ensign Freeman will follow as soon as Haematology Lab can provide them with the necessary blood for the transfusion. That will take time… we are slightly behind schedule, according to Doctor Martin. Lieutenant Eakins and I will be the last. In the meantime, I shall… discuss the problem with Doctor Hagen.”
The Betazoid seemed to become all nervous and defensive by that declaration.
“I don’t know what I could possibly do to help you, Doctor,” she said.
“You can start with handing me over Doctor Blodgett’s research,” Selar answered calmly.
Dr. Hagen produced an almost convincing frown. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said.
“I find that highly unlikely,” Selar replied. “According to Captain Picard, Doctor Blodgett has left his research documents - and presumably more than just documents - here, on the Copernicus, with you. At least that is what Doctor Blodgett says, and I see no logical reason for him to lie about it.”
“Perhaps not,” the Betazoid said. “But it doesn’t mean that I’d be obliged to hand the results over to you. That is very… sensitive research, on a need-to-know basis.”
“In case you have not realized, Doctor, we do need to know,” Selar answered. “Should you have found a cure against plasmasite infestation, you are obliged to hand it over to me. There are infested people all around you, and thousand other people aboard the Enterprise put to the risk, should the infestation spread.”
“What we found, is merely an enzyme suppressant,” Hagen explained. “An experimental one, which might hinder the plasmasites in feeding on the necessary enzymes in human blood. But it has never been tested. There’s no guarantee that it would actually work. And I’m not authorized to hand over the results to anyone else than Commander Yarell or Doctor Blodgett.”
“I see,” Selar said. “Well, I could argue with you all day, and given enough time, you actually might recognize the logic of my demand. Unfortunately for you, we do not have the time for that. So, either you hand me over the results voluntarily, or I shall take what I need to find directly from your mind.”
The Betazoid stared at the Vulcan in stunned disbelief. “You wouldn’t… A forced mind-meld…”
“… could turn your brain to useless organic residue, yes,” Selar answered calmly. “That would be unfortunate indeed, as you are said to have an excellent scientific mind. I would regret to destroy it, but in this particular the needs of the many clearly outweigh the needs of the few… or a single person. Consequently, I am allowed to use limited violence within the defined parameters of my duty as the acting Chief Medical Officer of the Enterprise.”
“You damn Vulcans and your defined parameters!” Dr. Hagen snarled, her beautiful face twisting into a grotesque mask of anger and hatred. “You make it so easy for yourselves to twist everything according to your own interest. Even your own rules!”
“On the contrary,” Selar replied coolly. “The demands on a Vulcan's character are extraordinarily difficult. Do not mistake composure for ease. If I do this, if I take the information I need from your mind by force, I shall be excluded from the medical department of the Vulcan Academy of Sciences, and dishonourably discharged as a Starfleet officer. I might also lose custody of my daughter. Such things are taken very seriously on Vulcan, so do not tell me I am making this easy for myself.”
“You could lose everything you’ve been working for all your life, and yet you’d be wiling to do it nonetheless?” Eakins asked in surprise. “Why?”
“Because the needs of the many do outweigh the needs of the few… or those of a single person, even if that person is me,” Selar answered. “We need to stop this threat, here and now. No matter what the costs are.”
“I would give her what she wants if I were you,” Freeman told Dr. Hagen encouragingly. “She isn’t bluffing. I’ve been working with her for years, and she’s never said anything that she wouldn’t actually mean.”
Dr. Hagen hesitated for a moment, fear for her own mental health and stubbornness clearly warring in her mind… then she fished a decoder chip from the pocket of her blue uniform tunic and tossed it at Selar. The Vulcan caught it mid-air effortlessly.
“The experimental serum is in the Isolation Lab,” the Betazoid told her smugly. “In our sickbay.”
Which meant outside the repulsor field, in the middle of a swarm of bloodworms… a swarm of unknown magnitude. Whoever would go there, it would be a suicidal act at best.
Selar glanced at Riker. “I am the only one with a hazmat suit, Commander. I shall go.”
“No,” Riker answered grimly. “We all go. It will take the bloodworms some time to realize we aren’t here anymore… and being unprotected might inspire Doctor Hagen here to be a little more cooperative,” he touched his comm badge. “Riker to Enterprise. Mr. O’Brien, beam us over to the Copernicus’ sickbay. All of us.”
“Number One, are you sure you want to leave the relative safety of the repulsor field?” Picard, who’d been monitoring their conversation, asked in concern.
“We have no other choice, Captain,” Riker answered. “That’s where the experimental serum is stored; and the repulsor field’s going to fail within moments anyway.”
“Very well,” Picard said with a heavy sigh. “Make it so, Mr. O’Brien.”
“Transfer complete, sir,” O’Brien reported a moment later.
“The repulsor field in the cargo bay of the Copernicus has weakened considerably, Captain,” Data added, almost at the same time. “It will shut down completely in two point nine six minutes.”
“How long until the bloodworms figure out where our people have gone?” Picard asked.
“Unknown, Captain,” the android replied. “We do not know whether the plasmasites possess any rudimental intelligence at all… or probably a hive mind that would allow them coordinated attacks. Another possibility would be…”
“Thank you, Mr. Data,” Picard interrupted. “Just… monitor their progress closely.”
“Of course, Captain,” Data didn’t understand why his commanding officer would feel it necessary to repeat previously given orders. Humans - well, organic beings in general - could be really confusing sometimes.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The rest of the Enterprise away team rematerialized in the Copernicus’ sickbay, with a very reluctant Betazoid scientist in tow. Eakins switched on the tricorder and scanned their surroundings.
“No other lifesigns in a radius of twenty metres,” he reported to Riker, “But we’ve seen how quickly that could change. We should hurry up, sir.”
“You get no argument from me,” Riker said grimly.
“Show me the way,” Selar ordered Dr. Hagen.
The Betazoid led her to the isolation lab and showed her the safety storage unit where the experimental serum was kept. Selar removed the small cooler box with the sealed vials within and pushed it into Freeman’s hands.
“Fill the syringes with the serum, Ensign,” she ordered, “While I download all necessary information. We shall start injecting everyone as soon as the serum has reached standard body temperature.”
“Leave one vial untouched, Freeman,” Riker added. “Doctor Selar will take it to the Enterprise as soon as she’s completed the download.”
“Commander, I should remain here,” the Vulcan started protesting, but Riker silenced her with a gesture.
“No, Doctor. You’re the only one who might still be uninfected, due to the hazmat gear; and the only one who knows how to use the serum for further research.”
“I am certain that Doctor Hagen has extensive knowledge about that,” Selar pointed out. “More extensive than I have, in fact.”
“Yeah, but I wouldn’t trust her any further than I could throw her,” Riker answered, “Which I’d actually love to do. Preferably through an open airlock. So, I’d ask you to take her with you, least I’d give in to the temptation.”
“Doctor Selar,” Freeman said, staring at the opened cooler bow with a frown. “There are only four vials here.”
“That should be enough,” Selar replied. “Doctor Hagen and I have not been exposed to the plasmasites yet, so we can be beamed over to the Enterprise’s Isolation Lab with minimal risk for our medical personnel.”
“If you move now,” Riker said.
“We shall,” Selar removed the decoder chip from the medical computer and pocketed it, together with her medical tricorder. “Data transfer completed. We are ready to go.”
“Understood,” Riker touched his comm badge. “Riker to Enterprise. Captain, we have the data - and a sample of the enzyme suppressant - secured. Doctor Selar and Doctor Hagen are ready to beam over with it; beaming directly to the Isolation Lab.”
“Acknowledged,” Picard said. “What about the rest of you?”
“We’ll give the enzyme suppressant a trial run,” Riker explained, “hoping that it works and keeps us alive until we can receive our transfusions.”
“You’re taking a great risk, Number One,” Picard warned.
“Yes, we are,” Riker agreed, “but if we don’t we’ll be dead anyway. It’s not like we’d have that many chances.”
“Unfortunately, that’s true,” Picard admitted. “Very well. Carry on, Number One. Enterprise out.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
A moment later the transporter beam caught and carried away Selar and Hagen. They took one vial with the enzyme suppressant sample and the research date with them. Now everything was up to the medical staff of the Enterprise.
Eakins looked at Riker. “What now, sir?”
“Keep scanning the area for bloodworms,” Riker instructed. “I’ll seal the doors in the meantime. And the maintenance tunnel entrances.”
“That still leaves the ventilation system, sir,” Eakins reminded him.
Riker shrugged. “Yeah, I know, but we need to breathe. At least blocking all other possible access routes will narrow down the possibilities for the worms, too.”
“And let them concentrate their efforts to break through the airducts,” Eakins said morosely.
“Let’s hope we’ll be safely gone before that,” Riker said, looking at Freeman. “How long till you can give us the shots, Ensign?”
“The serum will reach the average human body temperature within the minute, Sir,” Freeman replied, eyeing the readouts on the box. “I don’t dare to break the seal before that; it might damage the serum.”
“I just hope we do have that minute left,” Eakins commented sourly.
Freeman didn’t answer. Something caught his attention concerning the vials. Something he didn’t like at all.
The seal on one of the vials seemed to be broken. Or, at least, damaged. That was not good, not good at all.
“Is something wrong, Ensign?” Riker asked, seeing the frown deepen on the medical technician’s slightly pudgy face.
“No, sir,” Freeman lied smoothly. “The serum has reached the right temperature now.”
“Good,” Riker said, clearly relieved. “I want the two of you go first.”
“That wouldn’t be such a good idea, sir,” Freeman tried to speak as calmly as possible. “I should be the last one, so that I can take the necessary measures, should either of you have an allergic reaction to the suppressant. This serum hasn’t been tested yet; negative side effects are well within the realm of possibility.”
“Nonsense,” Eakins argued. “Emergency measures can be taken after we’ve been beamed over to the Enterprise. But you won’t be able to protect yourself when we are both k.o. You aren’t a trained security officer.”
“I still can fire a phaser if I have to,” Freeman filled two of the hypospray syringes from the vials with the unbroken seal and inserted them into the handy little instrument. “Besides, I am a trained medical technician, and thereby I declare this pointless argument for closed.”
Before the other two could have answered, he stepped up first to Riker, then to Eakins and pressed the hypospray to their necks, injecting the enzyme suppressant directly into their bloodstream.
The results were… mixed at best. Riker lost consciousness at once. Eakins had enough time to toss his phaser at his partner.
“Just in case,” he whispered before falling unconscious, too.
Freeman touched his com badge. “Ensign Freeman to Enterprise. Commander Riker and Lieutenant Eakins have lost consciousness upon being given the serum; it might be an allergic reaction. They should be beamed directly to Sickbay.”
“Understood,” Picard replied. “What about you, Ensign?”
“The seal on the last vial seems to be broken,” Freeman explained. “I don’t dare to inject myself with the serum; it could have been compromised. I’ll have to wait for the blood transfusion as I am.”
“Sickbay will have the blood ready in eight minutes,” Picard told him. “Can you hold out that long?”
“I don’t know, sir,” Freeman answered honestly. “It depends on how long it takes for the worms to find me.”
“Do you have any weapons?” Picard asked.
“Lieutenant Eakins gave me his phaser, but…” Freeman trailed off. They both knew how little a mere hand phaser would help him against the indestructible creatures.
“I see,” Picard sighed. “I’ll tell Sickbay to hurry up. Enterprise out.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
“Captain,” O’Brien called the bridge, “Commander Riker and Lieutenant Eakins have arrived. According to the medical emergency team, they’re in a reasonably good shape and will regain consciousness, soon. Doctor Selar has put them under quarantine in Auxiliary Sickbay, until the blood transfusion can be completed.”
“What about Selar and Doctor Hagen?” Picard asked.
“They haven’t been infected,” O’Brien said. “Doctor Hagen is on her way to the bridge. She says she wants to hand in an official complaint against Doctor Selar.”
“Understood. Keep the transporter on standby,” Picard ordered. “We might have to beam out Ensign Freeman in a hurry.”
“Yes, sir,” O’Brien signed out.
In the meantime, Doctor Hagen reached the bridge, and simultaneously, Auxiliary Sickbay reported that Riker and Eakins had regained consciousness and were feeling well… considering the circumstances.
“Does this mean that we’ve actually found a cure?” Picard asked.
But Selar nipped his hopes in the bud. “No, Captain. The enzyme suppressor merely buys us time to perform the blood transfusion on the infected person. However, I do believe that we could use Doctor Blodgett’s research to develop an actual cure. The results look promising. I would like to ask your permission to have him work in Haematology Lab, sir.”
“Do you trust him?” Picard asked.
“No,” Selar replied bluntly. “But he is our only expert on plasmasites, and we need him. Perhaps Counselor Troi could monitor him and alert us when he tries to mislead us.”
Picard looked at Troi who was already rising from her seat. “On my way, Captain.”
“Do you want Doctor Hagen’s help as well?” Picard asked Selar.
“No, Captain,” the Vulcan replied. “She is a full Betazoid, and as such she would be able to mask her true intentions from Counselor Troi. Doctor Blodgett would not. I suggest putting Doctor Hagen under arrest for the time being. I do not believe that we could trust her.”
“I find myself in complete agreement,” Picard looked at Worf. “Have her quarters watched, Mr. Worf. Choose the telepathically least sensitive security personnel. We do not need any more nasty surprises.”
“Yes, sir,” the Klingon gestured to two security guards who removed the pretty Betazoid scientist from the bridge.
“Freeman to Enterprise,” the panicked voice of the medical technician came through the comm system. “Can you beam me over, now? I can hear the sound of the bloodworms approaching through the ventilation system… according to the tricorder, there are hundreds of them!”
“Mr. O’Brien?” Picard prompted.
“I can’t get a lock on him,” the voice of the transporter chief was a little frantic. “His lifesigns are masked by those of the bloodworms… There are too many of them, and they’re too close to him… If I tried to beam him over, I’d get the bloodworms, too… Captain, I’m sorry, but there’s just no way to separate them.”
“I see,” Picard said heavily. “Keep trying, Mr. O’Brien.”
“There’s gotta be something you could do!” Eakins’ anguished voice could be heard through the channel that was still open to Auxiliary Sickbay. “You can’t just have those… those things eat him alive. Colin! Colin!”
“I’m sorry, Dan, I really am,” Freeman answered from aboard the Copernicus, his voice heavy with resignation. “This isn’t how I’ve imagined things to go on. Thank God you left met eh phaser. It will make everything easier.”
“Colin, no!” Eakins cried out in despair.
“I’m sorry,” Freeman repeated.
Then there was a loud, bone-shattering scream before the sound of a single phaser burst could be heard, signifying the end of the man’s life. The open com channel to the Copernicus filled with static.
“Turn it off,” Picard ordered Worf. “There’s nothing we can do. I’ll be in my ready room, composing a report to Starfleet Command. Call me if I’m needed.”