If At First You Don't Succeed...
Part 4 of 4
Synopsis: While investigating a nebula, strange things begin to happen. Set pre-Scorpion.
If At First You Don't Succeed...
"...Needless to say, people, we have a lot of planning to do." As Janeway finished, Paris looked to all his fellow officers, seeing the incredulous expressions on the faces of Kim and Neelix, the worry on Kes' and Chakotay's, the frowns on the Doctor's and Torres', and the stoic lack of expression on Tuvok's.
Finally, people are beginning to believe me!
"If Mr. Renkal is also able to jump back through time," Chakotay said, "what's to prevent him from changing his tactics?"
"His own captain and crew," Paris answered. "It was the same problem I kept running into. As far as any of you were concerned, I was making up things, or I was an alien imposter trying to lead everyone into a trap of some sort."
"Wouldn't a biological analysis show that you were not an imposter?" the Doctor frowned.
Paris' face turned a little red. At his request, none of his "abilities" had been shared with the senior officers. Now it seemed as though he'd have to tell. "I can't be scanned. I don't know why or how, but if you try to scan me with a tricorder or even the internal sensors, you get nothing."
"How is that possible?" Kes asked. "Surely there would be some kind of life sign..."
Shrugging, he held out his arms. "Scan me."
Janeway held up her hand to stop everyone from hunting for a tricorder. "That won't be necessary. I'm convinced Tom is who he says he is."
"Perhaps the 'pocket' you describe in sector J-14-25 will allow us to raise shields," Tuvok said.
"I don't know," Paris replied. "I've never gotten the opportunity to try it."
"In case the shields don't work, we could arm the crew before-hand," Chakotay suggested.
"A prudent course of action," Tuvok agreed.
"Better yet, we could have forcefields ready to go up at a moment's notice," Paris said. "I could tell you the approximate beam-in locations of all twenty-four teams. Combined with the forcefields, we would be ready for just about anything Renkal can think up."
And just maybe we won't lose anyone this time.
Janeway looked around at everyone. "Let's do it, people."
* * *
Janeway sat with clenched fist, waiting for Voyager to reach sector J-14-25. After a sonic shower, a fresh uniform, and a hot cup of coffee, she was beginning to feel a little more like herself. The wait was agonizing, and she wanted to see if everything Paris had described would occur.
"Captain," Paris finally said. "We've entered sector J-14-25."
"Any sign of the pirates, Mr. Kim?"
"Not yet... wait, I'm reading the impulse signatures of two vessels." Kim said. "Now four... six... seven... eight... ten... eleven. Eleven vessels."
"And a twelfth," Paris said, right as the twelfth vessel popped into view. "Steady as a clock."
"I don't suppose it's any use hailing them?" Janeway asked.
"Nope," he answered. "They don't listen, and they're already charging weapons."
Tuvok raised an eyebrow. "Indeed."
"Janeway to all hands, we have company. Standby all stations."
"Three... two... one..." Paris counted, then slid the ship side-ways into the pocket of calmer gas.
Blazing energy bolts crackled through the space Voyager had been in. "Return fire, Mr. Tuvok, and raise shields."
"I am unable to activate them," the Vulcan answered. Phaser beams lashed out, however, and struck the alien vessels repeatedly.
"Just great," Paris muttered. "Here we go..."
"Captain," Kim interrupted. "I'm reading transport signatures all over the ship."
"Forcefields, Mr. Tuvok."
"They are in place. The enemy vessels are now retreating."
The space in the middle of the Bridge sparkled, and four humanoid forms coalesced. When they appeared, they found, to their surprise, that they were surrounded by pointed phasers.
"Stand down," the tallest ordered, and Janeway marveled at how repulsive he looked. Obligingly, the other three pirates lowered their weapons. The leader turned toward the helm. "I see you got your old post back, Paris."
"And convinced everyone he was telling the truth, too," Janeway added.
"Renkal, Bartow. We're trapped behind some kind of energy field. Is there any way to get around it?"
"Negative, Bartow. They knew we were coming. Stand down."
"Aye, sir."
Renkal switched off his comm. "It appears you have won this time, Paris. I congratulate you on your victory." He gave an odd half-bow. "I suppose you will beam us to your hold again?"
Janeway turned to Tuvok. "Beam them to Cargo Bay 1," she ordered, having been told that she'd used Cargo Bay 2 before. She didn't want to give Renkal the privilege of being in familiar territory, so had had the security team prepare the cargo bay in advance.
The four humanoids vanished. Janeway looked to Paris, who was sitting down with a heavy sigh. "Galkinians are ugly."
"How much do you know about them, Mr. Paris?" Tuvok asked.
"Not much, except that preying on innocent travelers and captured pilots is fun to them."
Janeway frowned. Captured pilots? Then she remembered that he'd been caught by them three times. "I know that you probably don't want to look at another one for the rest of your life, Tom, but I need you with me when I talk to Renkal. You're as good a judge of their character as any."
Paris failed his attempt not to grimace.
* * *
Renkal, he decided, looked much better from the other side of the Brig's forcefield.
"Mr. Renkal, I will find the appropriate authority once we leave the nebula, and will leave you and your pirates with them. Is that understood?"
"Of course," the sub-commander nodded, smiling. Paris hated that smile. "Had I captured your vessel, I would have shown you less mercy than that, though Mr. Paris would have been given extra-special care."
Paris' face darkened. "Why don't we just have a transporter malfunction when we try to get you back to the cargo bay? I'd volunteer for the clean-up crew."
Janeway rolled her eyes. "Fortunately for you, Mr. Renkal, that isn't Starfleet's way."
"I'm touched. You know, if I'd been you, I'd have me tossed out an airlock. Especially once you hear how politely we treated your lieutenant..."
Paris looked somewhat sick. "Polite doesn't even begin to describe it. Akritiria seemed like Paradise by comparison."
The captain barely managed to keep from wincing. "Then maybe you'll have the privilige of visiting one of the worst this sector of space has to offer. I don't care, Renkal, I just want your pirating days to come to an end."
Renkal laughed. "So do I. But I plan on retiring first." In one swift motion, he leapt to his feet and withdrew a firearm transporters had somehow missed, then fired.
* * *
Janeway leapt back, startled, as the bullet crashed into the forcefield, causing the field to spark angrily. Now what did that accomplish? she thought.
Paris stumbled backward a step. "How did–?" he began, then fell.
"Tom!" Janeway cried out, her first instinct to rush over to him. Her second instinct was to hurt Renkal. As she saw the alien move to reload his weapon, her second instinct won out. She grabbed Paris' phaser and shouted, "Parker!"
The ensign behind the security console understood her meaning. The forcefield dropped and two phaser beams struck Renkal in the chest, knocking him backward. "Janeway to Transporter Room One, lock on to Paris and beam him to Sickbay!"
"I can't get a lock," the transporter chief replied.
The captain cursed, realizing that internal sensors couldn't pick up Paris, so neither could transporters. "Janeway to the Doctor. I need you at the Brig. Now."
Parker came around the console. "I've called for back-up, Captain," he said. "We'll strip-search the prisoner, if necessary."
"Thank you, Ensign," Janeway sighed, checking Paris' pulse.
His eyes fluttered open. "He caught me by surprise..." he mumbled. "He knew that was the only way to hurt me..."
"Rest, Tom. The Doctor will be here shortly."
Even as she spoke, the air shimmered and the Doctor appeared. "What happened?" the Doctor demanded.
"Renkal had some kind of modified weapon that could shoot through forcefields. He shot Tom."
Paris looked up. "I could get the bullet out for you," he said.
"Tom..." Janeway warned.
"I could."
The Doctor knelt on the floor, reaching for his tricorder. He'd flipped it open before he actually looked at the object in his hand, frowned, then put it away. "Captain, I've never treated a patient I couldn't scan," he said. "Without being able to scan for the bullet, I'll have to resort to more old-fashioned methods, as I won't be able to use a dermal regenerator. First, I need to get him to Sickbay."
"I said, I could get the bullet out."
"Mr. Paris," the Doctor said, beginning to sound aggravated.
"It'll be like putting your hand through a hologram," Paris continued, then amended, "Not like I would though. When I tell you to, you just reach right in and pick it up."
"Lieutenant..."
Janeway resisted the urge to slap her forehead. "Parker, call for the orderlies. They'll have to carry Tom to Sickbay once we're through here." She turned to the Doctor. "Tom can make himself insubstantial. I saw him walk right through that forcefield not too long ago." She glanced down, then saw that Paris was beginning to look a little pale.
"Now," Paris whispered, his eyes slowly closing.
"Captain!" the Doctor protested.
"Do it!" Janeway ordered.
With a look of disbelief, the Doctor reached for Paris' chest, and watched with astonishment as his hand passed right through. When his hand came back up, he was holding the offending bullet in his holographic hand.
The Brig doors slid open and Tuvok, two security guards, and three orderlies stepped into the room. "Load Mr. Paris on the stretcher," the Doctor ordered. When the medical team left, carrying the now-unconscious pilot, Janeway found herself still clenching her fist. Paris had worked so hard to get the best possible outcome from the situation, even re-shaping events when Lieutenant Torres was killed. It seemed unfair that he would accomplish all his goals and end up in such terrible shape himself.
"Captain," Tuvok said, interrupting her thoughts. "We have removed all suspicious items from Mr. Renkal."
"Very well, Tuvok," she replied, standing. She walked over to the cell, where the unconscious Galkinian lay. "You were wrong, Renkal," she said softly. "The airlock is too good for you." She turned to Tuvok. "When we clear the nebula, contact the nearest authorities, and put these men in the worst prison you can find."
"I hurt like hell," Paris groaned, "but otherwise, I feel fine."
Kes smiled. "That's good to know, Tom."
Tuvok entered Sickbay. "We'll be clearing the nebula in five hours," he said.
"Thank you, Tuvok," Janeway said.
"Lieutenant Torres has completed her analysis of Mister Renkal's weapon. It appears that he placed a dampening device on the firearm itself, and modified it to pass through the forcefield."
"How could he have known to do that?" Janeway asked.
"He had plenty of time to figure it out," Paris mumbled sleepily. "Plus he got a chance to look through the shuttle's records...nearly four days. And that lightning stuff of theirs... that stuff once blew out our impulse engines, warp drive, thrusters, weapons, and environmental controls, all in one shot."
"Mr. Paris, you will lie back down or I will strap you to the table," the Doctor threatened.
"I'd like to see you try," Paris retorted weakly, lying back down. "As I recall, you couldn't even touch me, yesterday."
"If it was possible, lieutenant," the hologram said grumpily, "I believe you are even more annoying today than usual."
"Just doing my best to be unpredictable. Who knows, with all this spare time in Sickbay, I might program you a real personality."
Janeway shook her head and headed for the door. Kes shot her a look that said all-too clearly: Are you going to leave me here with these two?
"You try that and I might forget to administer another pain killer."
"Kes will take pity on me, though. 'Sides, if I make you nice, you won't be able to leave me to suffer..."
Janeway stopped just outside the door and cleared her throat. "Kes? Neelix tells me your Malorian sunflower bloomed yesterday. Would you care to show me which one it is?"
The curly-haired Ocampan smiled. "Not at all, Captain. I wouldn't mind at all."
* * *
Captain's Log, Supplemental
We turned Sub-Commander Renkal and his team over to the Secobian judicial system for trial and eventual imprisonment. The Secobians informed us that they will be facing several charges of piracy and murder from local trading vessels alone. Without Renkal and his team, the Galkinian pirates will be hard-pressed to commandeer any more ships.
Lieutenant Paris has made a full recovery. Once we cleared the nebula, the Doctor was able to scan him with a tricorder, and could therefore repair the damage. Though Tom pretends to be disappointed with the loss of his other abilities, I think he's happy just to be through that nebula. I know I am, and I didn't spend six months trying to get Voyager through safely. That kind of perseverence seems ill-rewarded with a mere commendation, but it is all I can offer until we reach Earth, and going through the nebula saved us that much more time.