Snowbound
author: Anna C. Bowling
Comments, praise and flames to: Unzadi@aol.com
Series: TNG, Tapestry Saga
| Part: 3/6 Rating: PG-13 Codes: R/f | |
| Date: 29 Dec 1998 23:46:37 GMT |  |
Disclaimer: Paramount owns everything even vaguely related to Star Trek. I'm just playing with the stuff they didn't use. The story and original characters therein are mine, mine, mine. So there. >:)
Summary: (I'm going to get this right one of these tries!) Picking up where Snowblind left off, Riker and his more-than-a-colleague, Sarah Cromwell, unravel the mystery of the Romulan activity on arctic Philemon III
PART THREE
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Back on board the Enterprise, Captain Jean-Luc Picard swivelled around in his chair and looked at his fish. Livingston swam around his bowl in ignorant bliss, and Picard envied him. "I don't like this," he stated. "Tell me again, Chief. I want to make sure I understand what you're saying."
Miles O'Brien took a breath to steady himself before reporting. At the moment, he felt exactly like he had the time Sister Mary Benedict had caught him with a goldfish bowl at the holy water font. It didn't matter that he'd been taking the goldfish *out*, not putting it in. That had been Michael Burke, and over twenty years ago. This wasn't his fault, either. He swallowed again. "I believe the shuttle had cloaking capability, sir."
Picard turned to face O'Brien. "Cloaking capability? How?"
"I'm not sure, sir. There was precious little left of the shuttle, and we weren't able to transport all of the remains." He would have felt more comfortable with La Forge there to help explain things. The only explanations O'Brien had at the moment were extremely speculative and extremely technical. Fortunately, Picard seemed to accept that they were still trying.
"Do you have any theories as to the power source? " Picard asked through steepled fingers.
That, O'Brien could answer. "For the cloaking device? Aye, sir. From what we were able to recover, we believe the power source to be of native Philemite origin."
Picard nodded, adding the information to what he already had. "Can you tell me anything more?"
O'Brien's own frustration was evident. "Nothing definite, I'm afraid. When the ice storm is over, we can beam up some indigenous rock and crystal samples. The power source seems to be crystalline in structure," he explained, trying to give Picard what he needed, without getting into the technical specifics of it. "We're trying to get some impressions about the shuttle. We may have enough to make a rough diagram, but it would be more of a guess than anything else."
"Thank you, Chief. I have every confidence you'll be able to give us something concrete to go on." Picard was silent a moment, weighing a thought. "Would it be possible to reconstruct, if not the entire shuttle, then at least the power source, holographically?"
Picard's suggestion was something O'Brien had thought of already, but had wanted to wait before proposing. It would help greatly if they knew exactly what sort of crystal was powering the cloaking device, instead of having to search through the thousands of varieties native to Philemon Three.
"Aye, sir, it would. We could start immediately, with the computer ruling out the impossibilities, but it would take some time. The ice storm..." He finished his sentence with a spreading of his hands.
"Effective immediately, Holodeck Two is to be set aside for the reconstruction. Use whatever you need. I want this power source defined as soon as possible."
O'Brien would have expressed his gratitude in a less restrained manner if he were with anyone but Picard. Somehow, he didn't think the captain would appreciate a slap on the back. "Thank you, sir. We'll do our best to narrow down the possibilities."
Picard rose. "I won't keep you from your work any longer, Chief. Keep me posted on your progress. You are dismissed."
"Aye, sir." The doors hissed closed behind O'Brien, and Picard began to pace.
Native Philemite crystals powering a cloaking device to a Romulan shuttlepod? It was another piece added to the infuriating puzzle this mission had become. He'd speak with Governor Anderson as soon as possible on the matter of the crystals. He'd also pass that information along to the away team, if that were at all possible. Everything hinged on that interminable ice storm. No, he didn't like it at all.
* * *
Ensign Eliva Riss, medical technician and current ranking officer of a three-person team, came to an abrupt halt. "Be sssilent, pleassse," she cautioned Sabu and Taylor. Tilting her head and pointing her antennae in the approximate direction of the sound, she listened intently to the echo. It was a sound she was all too familiar with, and one she hated. It was a human in pain. "We will not proceed," she paused, "to the rendezvous point."
"Commander Riker's orders were to return to the cave mouth," Taylor put in, swallowing one of the private names he had for his commanding officer of the last fifteen minutes.
Eliva's antennae twitched, an Andorian version of a wince. Her hand went instinctively to her bundle, drawing the medikit to the top. It was going to be needed, and soon. "I sssaid to be sssilent. That isss an order," she hissed. "One of our colleaguesss hasss been injured." Her antennae curled. The scent of human blood had made her ill all during her first month of training in human medicine, but she had quickly gotten over it. Now, she could feel the nausea threatening to return.
"I'm picking up life signs, human and otherwise, approximately one hundred meters north by northeast," Sabu reported, checking his tricorder.
Eliva turned quickly, her blue antennae and orange markings the only colour in a sea of white. "How many?"
"Three human, eight otherwise." Sabu consulted the tricorder again. "I'd say the otherwise are the right size to be dunfs. They're all in motion. Continuing north by northeast."
Taylor glared at the only two exits to the tunnel they were in, forking at true south and true west. Returning they way they'd come would only make a giant circle, with no other outlets. Unless, of course, the corkscrew tunnels didn't accidentally land them in the right place, or some place even worse than the source of the screams. With the countless turns, he wouldn't bet on anything ending up like it should. "How do you propose we get there, *ma'am*?"
Eliva stood perfectly still, processing the information she already had. Factoring out the echoes,and relying on the strength of the dunf and blood scents, she weighed her options. "We will take the west tunnel," she decided. "The sound is purer in that direction," she explained, seeing Taylor's skeptical look. "Human earsss would not," she paused, her antennae drooping with the futility of trying to explain her choice. She couldn't recall any of her superior officers ever giving detailed descriptions of their orders. "It is my decision. Draw phasers."
Jeffrey Taylor needed no command from the Ice Woman to draw his weapon; he'd had a hand on it for the past half hour. His fingers curled around the grip, ready to fire. He didn't like having to wait for permission from Riss, who was only in command of the team because she had held the rank of ensign for a full two days longer than he and Sabu.
Now, both Taylor and Sabu could smell the blood. Blood, and the musky odor of dunf, much stronger than the traces clinging to the front of their robes. The three of them picked up speed, not yet running; that wasn't safe on the slick, frozen ground that seemed to curve in Escher-like directions every few meters. They came almost immediately to another fork, this time having the options of north and east.
Eliva took only a second to decide. In the distance, two lights gleamed, moving away from them rapidly. "North."
The tunnel was too narrow to accommodate anything more than single file. Eliva motioned for Taylor to precede them. If the tunnel could allow Taylor's bulk to pass, the more slender Eliva and Sabu would have no problem. Directly behind Taylor, Eliva already had her medikit out, one hand wrapped around a hypospray. She had the sinking feeling that no matter what she did, it wouldn't be enough. If the dunf had released any venom, which it most likely had, there were only precious minutes in which to administer the antitoxin. She could already hear her companions' heartbeats accelerating. The injured human's heart would be at the same rate of acceleration, if not higher, and that would only pump the venom through the system faster.
Behind her, Rohit Sabu cursed softly. His tricorder was blinking on and off. He knew he should have put it away when Eliva had given the order to draw phasers, but she hadn't exactly said to, and besides, the readings he was getting were...
He found himself facedown in the frozen gravel and ice, both phaser and tricorder skittering out of his reach. Scrambling to his knees, he took the slender hand Eliva extended to him, and scooped up the phaser that was now only a step away. It was still working. Taylor handed him the battered tricorder, which Sabu checked immediately. It was still blinking steadily, reading a new object.
In unison, their heads turned toward the metal object that glinted in the beam of Taylor's light.
Slowly, but with purpose, Eliva moved toward it, after motioning Taylor to flatten himself against the cave wall where the tunnel widened just enough for her to pass. She angled her antennae, focusing all her senses on the shiny thing. It was only then that she noticed how close the object was to a sheer drop over a ledge. She silently thanked God Sabu had tripped. Otherwise, they might well have gone right over the edge themselves. She crouched down to pick up the object, knowing what it was, but still wary. She looked at it again, as though it were the first time. Wordlessly, she stood and extended it for Taylor and Sabu's inspection. In the beam of Taylor's light,the silvery metal of the VISOR gleamed brightly.
* * *
"Over here."
At the sound of Riker's voice, Sarah focused her light on the wide puddle of bright red on the ground. Tufts of white fur dotted the puddle, absurdly reminding her of clouds. There were footprints and dunf tracks leading away from it, spots and streaks of red clearly marring the way.
Riker looked at Sarah, his shock and concern clear in his eyes. "Human blood?"
Sarah nodded. "I'm afraid it is. My guess is that our comrades found themselves too close to a dunf's nesting spot. Dunfs are terribly protective parents. Any threat to the young, and they'll attack. I can't say if the dunfs responsible for this released any venom or not."
"And if they did?"
Sarah's reply wasn't encouraging. "Fatal, I'm afraid, if the antitoxin isn't administered in time."
Riker's mind raced through the possibilities, a hand kneading at his temple to help it along. "Could the victim administer the antidote to himself?"
Sarah answered with a sad shake of her head. "There wouldn't be time. Dunf venom causes nearly instant paralysis in Philemites. The human nervous system is similar enough. Andorians are immune for the most part; they'd get a mild skin rash, but that's about all."
That was good for Andorians, Riker thought, but the blood on the cave floor was human red, not the bright blue of Andorian blood. "How long would the victim have?"
She took only a moment to recall the information. "Roughly five minutes before it starts to take effect. Ten if the heartbeat can be slowed to a relaxed state. It's not likely though, since the climate is already putting extra stress on the heart to begin with."
No, it wasn't likely. "Especially not with the adrenaline the attack would activate." Riker nodded,surveying the site carefully. Oddly enough, he was reminded of a time his father had taken him hiking, and taught him how to read wolf tracks. *Pretend they're wolves.* "How large is the average pack?"
"This tunnel isn't large enough to hold an entire pack. I'd say at the most, a male, his harem, and their young. Six to ten per litter. Most survive, since the dunfs are near the top of the food chain."
Riker scowled, his hand pressing again at the throbbing in his skull. "Are all these tracks from adult dunfs?"
Sarah squinted at the ground. "I can't tell in this light, but the young might not have been here. If the mother thought there was a threat, that would be enough for her to attack. She wouldn't take any chances."
"Would the dunfs be satisfied with one kill?"
Kyle Riker's voice echoed in Will's mind. *Remember, Will, the most dangerous animal you're ever going to run into is a mother anything.*
"There's no need for assuming the worst. As soon as they're convinced the young are no longer threatened, they'll go on to something else, likely related to food or sleep. The best thing our friend could have done was to play dead." She crouched and examined the ground more closely. "Which it looks like he did."
Riker joined her. He moved forward slowly, still in the crouch, his fingers tracing the air just over the ground. "Could one dunf drag a human?"
Sarah matched Riker's progress. "It's possible," she allowed, picturing the scene in her mind. "One could do the job, but it was more likely two dunfs. The females are cooperative in protecting the young. Each litter belongs to the entire pack. Seeing just one female would be rare; she'd be sick."
Riker nodded his understanding. Now, he was past the puddle, where the trail of trampled gravel began. There were dunf tracks on either side of a large, erratic squiggle that indicated something had been dragged. Two different sizes of bootprints, spaced as if running, told him that the dunfs hadn't taken down the other two people. Yet.
"I assume the nest is in the opposite direction from this," he guessed, his eyes following the tracks as far as he could see.
"It does." Sarah felt a chill entirely unrelated to the temperature creep up her spine. *Calm, Cromwell.* "I'd reccommend phasers on heavy stun. The dunfs we find won't be friendly, and they may decide to call in reinforcements. We don't want to run into papa unprotected, either."
Riker didn't need to hear any further explanation. "Heavy stun."
"Heavy stun," Sarah confirmed, adjusting her phaser's setting. She paused, a too-familiar sound catching her attention. "Listen."
Riker focused all his attention on the low, barely audible growling sound, accompanied by the scratching skitter of clawed feet on frozen gravel. There was no time to think.
* * *
"Brina? You still there?"
Lieutenant Junior Grade Sabrina Sinclair squeezed Geordi's hand to reassure him she hadn't left. "I'm here, sir."
Geordi managed a smile. "Good. You were pretty quiet there for a while. What happened?"
Sinclair checked her tricorder for what seemed like the millionth time in the past five minutes. The chonometer was working, she thought, if she could be liberal with the term "working," but that was about it. "The tricorders again. According to my instrument, we've been here for five minutes, but yours says twenty-three."
Geordi let out a whistle of surprise. "Twenty-three! You're kidding!"
Sinclair shook her head. "I wish I were. I think I can also say we haven't run into the smallest temporal anomaly in the galaxy. Our tricorders are nuts."
Pulling himself up to standing, Geordi exhaled a long breath and brushed the snow from his robes. "Sure could use Data's chronometer about now. The tricorders telling you anything else? Anything worthwhile?"
She keyed in the same test sequence she'd been trying periodically since they'd left the cave, expecting to get the same readout of random characters, but instead had to force herself to stifle a cheer. This was a critical mission, not a soccer match. Out in the open as they were, it wasn't wise to draw any more attention to themselves than was absolutely necessary. "They've finally admitted we're here. Both of us."
With that said, Sinclair finally allowed herself to let out the breath she felt she'd been holding forever. There had been a few times, during their frantic scramble out of the collapsing tunnel, and subsequently, the cave,that Sinclair had thought they weren't going to make it. The dunfs had come out of nowhere, without even so much as a blip on any of the three tricorders. There had been five of the animals - *five* - and the tricorders hadn't gotten any readings at all. According to the instruments, the dunfs hadn't even been in the caves. So much for technology. She looked back at the cave and shuddered.
"What about Doctor Crusher?"
Sinclair grinned, checking her tricorder once more, then Geordi's. "The tricorders both say we're the only life forms in the vicinity, but I can see her now. She's out, she looks fine, and she's coming this way."
Geordi's face lit with hope as his posture straightened. "Does she have the VISOR?"
Sinclair shook her head again, then reminded herself that Lieutenant Commander La Forge wasn't currently wearing the VISOR. Without it, he couldn't see her, or anything else, for that matter. It was too easy for her to forget about the thing. She'd never admit it, but prior to that day, she'd always considered the VISOR more like a piece of exotic jewelery than a true necessity. "I can't tell from here, but she's alone."
*Alone. Damn.* Both of them had hoped the doctor would have been albe to find at least one other member of the landing party. The last Geordi could remember, Data had been alone. Sinclair hadn't been able to do much more than break through the tunnel opening, which had collapsed behind them, rock, ice and snow making an effective barrier against any pursuing dunfs. Geordi himself had felt useless, completely without sight, having lost his VISOR in the attack. Instead of being able to help re-enter the cave, all he'd been able to do was sit there, just another useless frozen lump. He fit right in with the rest of the planet.
Well, sure, he told himself, there was the matter of the dunf who'd decided to take a taste of his left arm. Beverly had managed to stop the bleeding and administer the antitoxin in time to prevent any damage, but Geordi still felt like he should be doing more. He hadn't felt any pain for a good ten minutes now, and he cretainly had all of his senses about him. Except for sight. Sight, or a reasonable facsimilie.
Ever since he'd gotten the VISOR...no, he corrected himself, ever since he'd gotten used to the VISOR, he'd felt odd without it. Now, being without the instrument was worse than usual. He found his fingers sneaking up to the place where the VISOR should be when he thought Sinclair had her head turned away from him. Maybe, just maybe, the voice of the little boy he'd once been told him, the VISOR would magically be there the next time he reached for it. It wasn't, but he kept hoping.
He could hear Beverly's boots crunching through the snow now. She didn't have the VISOR, he just knew it. Her breathing was harder than usual, though, and the sound of that, combined with the sound of her steps, told Geordi she was carrying something.
"How'd it go?" he asked, hoping his voice was as level as he'd been trying to keep it.
"I couldn't get in too far," Beverly explained, her tone beyond apologetic. Besides the snow, I'd say there was at least a meter of rock. That tunnel is sealed. I did manage to get one of the packs, though." She set the pack down, crouching next to it as Geordi and Sinclair followed suit. "Luckily, I didn't run into any more dunfs on my way back here. That probably means they've found something more interesting than us."
"Or tastier," Geordi added, rubbing the spot on his arm beneath the torn sleeve. "What's in the pack?"
With shaking fingers, Beverly undid the pack's fastenings as carefully as she could. "I had to do some digging to get this. It was under a pile of snow big enough to ski on, but there shouldn't be much damage."
"Hey, I have faith in Starfleet's sturdy construction. Let's see what's in there. A nice big plate of jerk chicken would be great, but I think we could make do with a round of standard rations about now." There was less contrast to Geordi's familiar bright grin with his face the pale white and orange of the Berrek, but it still had the usual effect. He could hear both Crusher and Sinclair's breathing ease up a little.
Beverly reached into the open pack and took out the first thing her hand touched. "Rations it is," she said, handing the package to Sinclair.
Sinclair took the packet, breaking it into thirds, then distributing the pieces. She wasn't hungry; none of them were, but eating was something to do. She nibbled on her portion, not tasting the food at all, which she counted as a plus. Instead, she watched the others. They were both nervous, she could tell, but didn't want for her to know that. Sinclair didn't blame them. She tugged her hood more firmly over her head to guard against the wind, and concentrated on consuming her ration.
"Hey, would you ladies mind chewing a little louder?" Geordi asked, with mock offence. "A guy might get to thinking he's all alone out here."
"Not a chance," Beverly said. "Nobody's going anywhere on their own. Doctor's orders." She paused, tugging her hood securely into place. "I tried activating my communicator again, a little beyond the cave. It bleeped, but I couldn't get any kind of connection."
Geordi's expression grew thoughtful. "Okay, let's think about this. The communicators, ours at least, didn't work at all inside the cave, so we can assume the others didn't work, either. Tricorder functions are impaired, but phasers are working. Bev, how's the medikit coming?"
Beverly grimaced, grateful that the fur trim of her hood concealed her expression. "Let's just hope we don't run into any more dunfs. I had to use the entire dose of antitoxin on you."
"Glad you did," Geordi said. "What about the pack you brought out?"
"Mine, I'm afraid. The hypo's empty."
Geordi nodded. "Okay, that can't be helped. Do you think it's worth another try to re-enter the cave? The tunnel we just left is sealed, but there's got to be others we can could try."
Sinclair spoke up. "I think I can find where we originally entered the cave from out here. If any of the others have returned to the mouth, or tried to, that's the best place to start looking."
"Now that's what I like to hear," Geordi said approvingly. "Guess we finally get to see if Worf's bragging about that map you carry around in your head is justified."
Sinclair was glad for the heavy white colouring that covered her face. No doubt she was blushing furiously under it. Although she couldn't imagine Worf bragging about anyone, she did take a certain satisfaction in her innate sense of direction. "If I could see your tricorder, Doctor," she asked, turning towards Beverly.
Beverly handed her tricorder to Sinclair and resumed her inspection of the pack.
"Commander La Forge thought we might be able to boost one of the tricorders to almost full power by combining the power sources of all three," Sinclair explained. "I'd feel a lot better about this if we could get any kind of a decent idea of what's around us." She paused. "Kind of funny, though. My mother always warned me not to get too dependent on technology. She wanted to know what I'd do if I ever found myself completely without it. I hope we don't have to find out."
"Sounds like my mom, too," Geordi said. "Which tricorder are you going to boost?"
Sinclair took a moment to consider her options. "Mine, I think. If we run into any of the natives who've been keeping company with the Romulans, I'd like to know what kind of firepower they've got."
"Good idea," Beverly agreed. "Everything seems to be in working condition. Since we have limited medical supplies, I'd like us to start moving as soon as possible. The longer we stay here, the better our chances of becoming dunf buffet. We might try re-entering the cave one more time. I don't like being out here with only one pack."
"Especially when the pack is out of antitoxin, right?" Geordi finished for her. "What's it look like in there?"
"Messy," the doctor conceded with a deep sigh. "Almost like Wesley's closet, but snowier. If we can't find anything else this time, I'd give up. I don't think the dunfs are going to bother us and leave the rest of the team alone."
Sinclair nodded. "If they've gotten a taste for us, they'll keep looking. I've almost gotten this togeth..."
Geordi picked up the change of tone in Sinclair's normally upbeat speech. "What's wrong?"
"I don't know if I'd call it wrong, sir," Sinclair demurred, searching for the right word, "but it's not right."
"Not right how?" Geordi pressed. "Could you have given it too much power?"
"I don't think so," she answered, her voice reflecting her puzzlement. "Doctor, take a look at this." For Geordi's benefit, she added, "The tricorders are detecting both human and Romulan DNA nearby, but hardly any of either."
Beverly scrutinised the information on the tricorder and double-checked it, then checked again. "It's a very small amount, but definitely there. I'd say no more than two or three kilometers from us. No life signs, but I am getting some genetic resonance..." Her voice trailed off. The first explanation that popped into her mind interrupted her report. "There's enough to account for a four-month fetus."
*Enough to account for a four-month fetus.* Geordi understood. "You think it might be the corpse of Lieutenant Cromwell's child?"
"It's possible. She did say that the Romulans had put the child outside the compound after she miscarried. I don't see how we could be that close to the compound so soon," Beverly wondered aloud.
Sinclair cleared her throat. "We can't trust what the tricorders are telling us inside the cave, so we don't know how far we've come."
"Doctor, you said two or three kilometers. Can you get anything more specific?" Geordi asked, "How about direction?"
"Well, finally! It's actually working," Beverly explained. "If we can trust this reading, we should find..." she swallowed. "We should find the source of the DNA two point nine kilometers north by northeast."
A warning light clicked in Geordi's brain. "You've moved away from the cave, right? Are you standing near any large rocks or rock formations?"
"No."
"You're standing in open space? As in you can't reach out and touch anything mineral from where you're standing right now."
"Yes," Beverly answered, trying to follow the engineer's logic. "I mean, no. That is, I'm not standing near anything. It's open space."
That had to be it. "It's something in the mineral content of the stone," Geordi said. "Whatever's been screwing up our equipment is in the rock, and I'll bet that's what the Romulans have been after. If this DNA is in fact Lieutenant Cromwell's child, then we're probably pretty darn close to the Romulan base of operations. I say we find out for sure."
END OF PART THREE
* * *
Chamber of the Warrior Queen
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This story is re-posted with kind permission from the author.
Snowbound is part of the Snow Quartet. It is #2 out of four. Please check our STAR TREK Story Menu for other stories from Anne - or take a look directly at the Tapestry Saga website members.aol.com/unzadi. Also in the saga is E. Catherine Tobler's story, "Treasures," with more to come from both Anne and Catherine. The site also includes a saga timeline, family trees and other "companion" resources.
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