Chapter 5

"At least he's quiet," she'd muttered. Bashir had snorted softly in agreement.

Still, Lausten was lucky. The hours weren't going by any faster. The rest of them were back to having nothing but useless speculation to pass the time.

Aya fiddled with the latches of the medkit, then sighed, looking annoyed with herself. She'd already inventoried their supplies, and reinventoried them, and arranged them neatly into their compartments. Messing with the kit would just rehash what they already knew and get them even more frustrated.

She knew this, and yet the temporary comfort of complaining was very hard to ignore.

"They could have at least left us the regenerator," she said, shoving the case away from her on the table. "There isn't much we could do with that besides medical purposes, is there?"

Seated idly next to the computer, Vak shrugged. "Power cell could do some damage to a forcefield, with some work."

"A high-level security forcefield?" Aya shot back. "I doubt it."

The Bolian waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "I have my ways."

"And Emily knows that," Westfall cut in wryly from his seat in the corner. "Which is why we don't have a regenerator."

Vak sighed. "Yeah. Emily knows a lot of things."

She knows too much, apparently. In spite of himself, Bashir had to admire Hart's efficiency. Almost flawlessly, she'd managed to pin anyone opposing her into a defenseless situation. Emily Hart was the real backbone of the hijacking, that much was obvious. Without her, Blake had nothing but angry determination and a persuasive call for justice.

But that wasn't what bothered Bashir so much, not really. It was the complete unexpectedness of her betrayal. He never would have thought her capable of something like this. She'd seemed like a good woman when he'd met her - a little prim at first, but not unkind and certainly not a threat. And she was a friend of Miles', on top of everything. He still found it almost impossible to imagine that this person, having won the cheif's respect and friendship, could be a criminal.

He shook his head, drumming his fingers resignedly against the tabletop. I guess Garak still has a few things to teach me about reading people.

"I just don't understand it," the captain muttered. His thoughts were probably following the same line as Bashir's at the moment. "A plan this complicated must have taken Emily weeks of work, but I never noticed anything out of the ordinary. How could I have missed something like Emily installing a forcefield in the ventilation duct of my own ready room, for chrissake?"

"Maybe you didn't," Bashir said idly. "She could have masked it as routine work on a regular system in the conduits."

But Vak shook his head. "No, I don't think so. Too much work to force the hatch open, install the forcefield, and put the hatch back in place. And too risky. If there is a way she could have done it indirectly, like through the computer, she'd've probably gone for that option."

Aya snorted. "Come on, how do you 'indirectly' install a forcefield?"

"You don't," Vak said, mimicking her tone. "You use the system that...." Then, without explanation, he stopped short.

Bashir lifted his head, puzzled. "That what?"

Vak didn't react at first, as if he hadn't heard the question. Bashir took a breath to repeat it, but the Bolian beat him to it.

"She used the system that was already there," he said, more slowly. Getting to his feet, he turned his gaze from the blocked door to the hatch and back again.

The energy field across the door shimmered pale green. Vak turned back to where the bread knife was still jammed into the hatch, glowing with energy from the forcefield.

Blue.

"It's not a security forcefield," he said, his pale eyes widening. "She couldn't install a level nine, it would have taken too much time."

Bashir was on his feet and at Vak's side before he was finished speaking. "What are you saying?"

Vak responded by tugging the doctor with him as he approached the hatch. He cast about for something to protect his hands, then grabbed at the fabric of his uniform tunic and began to wrestle it off. "It's not a level nine forcefield," he explained again. "Emily had to rely on the emergency backup field, the one that seals off the vents in the event of a hull breach. It's a level three, four at the most." Kneeling, he wrapped his tunic around the handle of the knife, careful not to touch the conducting metal.

"Of course," Aya breathed, suddenly realizing Vak's intent. "Emily must have figured that even if we had the equipment to break down the forcefield, we couldn't remove the access hatch without almost blowing a hand off."

From her seat next to her patient, Ptacek grinned. "When Trey wakes up, remind me to thank him."

Vak was too busy leaning his weight into the knife to answer. The blade sizzled angrily against the field as it slid along the seal by centimeters, widening the opening very slightly. Carefully, Bashir wrapped his fingers around the loose edge of the hatch and pulled. The added force opened the seal a bit wider, and Vak redoubled his efforts, panting against the strain...

...then lurched abruptly into the bulkhead as the blade finally snapped under the pressure. Just before the hatch could spring back and catch his fingers, Bashir threw the last of his momentum against it, and it jerked free of the ventilation duct with a loud crack and a shower of sparks. The doctor tumbled backwards, banging his elbow on the deck, but the dull pain shooting up his arm was worth it. The hatch was open.

Behind the blue sheen of the emergency seal, the ventilation duct stretched out for a few meters and hit an intersection to the wider conduits that connected the different sections of the ship.

Aya grinned. "Bingo."

Captain Westfall creased his brow in thought, stepping forward to hook a hand under Bashir's arm and haul him to his feet. "All right, we've removed the hatch. How do we overload the forcefield? We don't have any equipment."

Vak wiped the sweat off his brow and grinned over his shoulder at the computer terminal, lying in pieces on the other side of the room.

The realization hit Bashir and Aya at the same instant. "The induction circuits," she gasped. Bashir's pulse quickened in spite of himself. "Is it going to be enough?" he demanded sharply.

"It should be," Vak replied. "We wouldn't have a chance if Emily had cut power to this terminal earlier, but...."

"But Hart and Blake had to show their war footage to make a point first," Ptacek laughed. "I guess they thought the dramatic symbolism was worth the risk."

Bashir returned her smile wholeheartedly. "Exactly."

"Again, I am underestimated," Vak said with aplomb, jogging over to the computer and clearing the rest of the hardware away from the dimly glowing circuitry. "I love proving people wrong."

Aya rolled her eyes. "Yeah, you know, I was beginning to gather that...."

"You just wish that you'd thought of the idea," Vak retorted. "Now are you going to help me here or not?"

She sighed and muttered something about showing off, but quickly knelt to uncoil the induction loops as he pulled them free. Bashir turned to the captain, his mind racing. "So we can crawl through the conduits once the field is down. Where do we go?"

"Sickbay," Westfall said after a moment of thought. "It isn't far from here. We can treat Lieutenant Lausten's injuries and see if there are any operational computers."

Dr. Ptacek was already shaking Lausten into consciousness. She gave Westfall a skeptical look as she eased her groggy patient into a sitting position. "And what then?"

The captain smiled grimly. "Then we look for some reinforcements and head for Engineering. If I know Emily, that's where she's set up camp. If we can get that much back, we stand a good chance of retaking the entire ship."

"And if I know Emily," the Andorian countered, "she's going to make sure that the odds are in her favor. It's going to take a miracle to get past her defenses."

Bashir sighed; Ptacek certainly had a gift for pessimism. "I'd rather put our chances on a miracle than sit in here and do nothing," he muttered. "I won't give up without a fight."

Westfall watched him gravely for a few moments, then nodded. "Then that settles it. Let's hope Fate is on our side."

*****

He was getting angrier as each moment passed, and as that anger grew, his pace quickened. And crawling through the access tunnels was no easy undertaking as it was, much less at this speed. For his ship to be taken over by a hostile force - he knew that was something that would infuriate him without a doubt, but for it to be his own crew, well, that was just a personal affront. And despite everything he'd learned about diplomacy at the academy, Aaron Westfall had never taken an insult lying down.

Before he knew it, he'd reached the access hatch and was in half a mind to give it a good kick when common sense prevailed - he might as well have sent the hijackers in Engineering a memo telling them he was on his way. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Vak approaching, although still a little way behind, followed by Aya and Bashir bringing up the rear.

Westfall squirmed into a hunched sitting position; his weapon jabbed uncomfortably into his hip, but there was no helping that. He was lucky that there had been phasers in Sickbay at all. Ptacek had almost forgotten she had them in storage, tossed in the back of one of her endless cabinets. Type-1 hand phasers, four of them, and exactly four power cells. Not very much to work with. Still, it worked out well, relatively speaking. Lausten had been in no shape to crawl through ventilation ducts anyway, and Ptacek had thought it best that she stay with her patient in Sickbay. Computers weren't working there either, but she finally had a tricorder and a regenerator available. "We'll catch up to you later," she'd said gravely.

He took another look at the access panel. No, better for Vak to get a look at it first, he thought; he would know if anyone had tampered with it.

Vak arrived, breathing slightly harder than normal. Westfall suddenly noticed that he was too, and somewhere in the back of his mind made a mental note to get back into some form of exercise routine. He motioned for Vak to check out the panel. After a few moments' careful scrutiny, Vak seemed to decide that there was no forcefield here, just as there hadn't been at Sickbay. Westfall checked to make sure his phaser was still on stun; whatever happened, he wasn't ready to kill anyone... yet.

He half wondered if Emily's band had decided against that courtesy. It hadn't crossed his mind before; he'd just assumed they wouldn't use deadly force. He was determined to get his ship back on course, but as he looked around at the expectant faces of Vak, Aya and Bashir, he wondered for the first time if it was worth risking the lives of these people. Starfleet would figure something was wrong when the Nightingale didn't make it to the rendezvous point and ships would be sent to investigate.

But at the same time, they were all Starfleet officers, required to do whatever was necessary in their line of duty, and to ask them to sit tight and await the cavalry was an insult to them. Besides, he reasoned, any one one of them could have stayed in Sickbay or in the briefing room; the fact that they hadn't was a good indicator of their willingness to carry this through.

"Alright everyone," he whispered, "phasers on stun." The order was complied with. He pressed his ear to the seal of the hatch; if anyone was out there they were being quiet about it. "Okay," he continued, "Vak, get to the door and try to get us in there. Bashir on the left, Aya, on the right. I'll cover Vak's back until he's finished. And remember to let us know when the door's opening, Vak, the last thing I need is to be standing with my back to Emily and her compadres."

Vak's cheerful grin, reflected by the various colours of the access controls, looked almost sinister.

"Once we're inside, sweep from the middle out and be careful, we don't know exactly how many of the crew are in there. We could find ourselves well outnumbered. All right?"

"Okay," Vak answered.

"Okay," followed Aya.

Bashir simply nodded.

"Okay then." Westfall took a steadying breath, and gently popped the seal of the hatch, easing it to the floor. After a brief look in all directions he motioned them out.

Vak was across the corridor to the door before Aya could tumble out behind him; he popped open the keypad and peered in. He'd have to get it right first time or those in Engineering would be alerted to their presence, and he wouldn't look forward to that. "Okay," he muttered swiftly, digging into the controls with his fingers. "I can do this. One minute, less than one minute, I can get us in here...."

Westfall's heart was beating so loudly he was taken by the strange notion that everyone else could hear it too. His eyes darted around the corridor as he'd been trained to do since he was a cadet. He concentrated on the silence, trying to hear something.

And in a moment, to his dismay, he did.

Two, he decided, and motioned to both Bashir and Aya that they wouldn't be alone much longer. The footsteps and mumbling grew nearer, and he was able to determine they'd encounter one female and one male; that is, if the officers decided to come down this way. There was always the hope that they wouldn't.

But Rudavich and Milne walked around the corner and straight into the aim of Westfall's phaser, and they weren't expecting to encounter anyone in the corridors either. For a lifetime split second, the two hijackers and the four former captives stared at each other. Then Westfall reached behind him and pulled Vak to the ground, hidden behind a ridge in the bulkhead, as the startled pair raised their phaser rifles.

The ensign slapped his commbadge - "Milne to Blake..."

Westfall's weapon broke the silence like the starting pistol at the beginning of a race, and the six officers in the corridor sprang to life.

Milne's warning call was cut short as he slumped unconscious to the floor. Rudavich narrowly escaped by ducking behind a bulkhead, only allowing the bare minimum of herself to be seen as she darted short phaser bursts at where she remembered the hostages had been. They quickly gathered a rhythm; Lt. Rudavich would aim at Westfall and his crew, and they'd fire back at where her shots came from.

She paused, flattened against the bulkhead and slapped her commbadge. "Rudavich to - mmpff!"

Westfall had been gradually edging up the corridor covered by his cohorts' fire, and Rudavich had taken the perfect moment to request backup. With a swift move of his left arm he'd relieved her of her phaser rifle and pinned her, his right hand clamping down over her mouth at the same moment.

"How many?" he growled at her.

Rudavich shook her head - she wasn't about to answer.

"How many?" He leveled the rifle at the nape of her neck and hoped she wouldn't call his bluff.

He'd never know if she was going to answer or not. The confusion suddenly increased as Blake, accompanied by five of his followers, rounded the corner at a run, all phasers firing. Shoving Rudavich ahead of him to block their fire, Westfall holstered his own phaser and fired the rifle, dropping to the other side of the bulkhead as the battle progressed. He saw Aya and Bashir pressed against the bulkheads on either side, firing alternately down the corridor in rhythm, and Vak behind them firing at random intervals. The result was an almost constant lattice of phaser fire knifing across the narrow space of the corridor. Westfall returned fire himself, but was wracking his brains to find some other way of getting his ship back; they were at a standoff, and it would only last until their power cells were empty.

And Blake's phaser rifles would not be the first to go.

Then it seemed that everything was happening at once. Bashir managed to hit one of the hijackers in the arm; the lieutenant fell back with a yelp of pain. As his phaser dropped, the firing stopped for the briefest of moments and Westfall heard Blake shout for backup. They'd just about held their own up until now, but Westfall knew that if more arrived it'd be over soon, and they'd be on the losing side.

This was also this moment Vak chose to have another go at the door to Engineering. Westfall swore as he realised what Vak was doing, and bounced out from his place to try to stop him. As if they already knew what Westfall was thinking, Bashir and Aya fired just in time to offer some cover to Westfall as he lunged toward Vak.

"Fall back!" he yelled as he passed Bashir and brought Vak crashing to the ground.

Bashir fired a sustained burst down the corridor as Aya ran to the access tunnel they'd recently emerged from, opened the hatch and dived in. The hijackers realized what she'd done and redoubled their efforts, trying to prevent the three remaining men from getting to the hatch and escaping. The doctor continued to fire short bursts as Vak picked himself up and continued to work at the panel.

"No Vak! Now!" Westfall was on his feet and pulling on the Bolian's collar.

"I'm almost there, Captain! A few more seconds!"

"We haven't got a few more seconds! We have to go now!"

Westfall shoved him away from the panel, and Vak gave up with a hiss of frustration. Bashir was still crouched in the open, laying down cover fire when Westfall grabbed his collar, all the while firing at those who had dared to take his ship - his ship! - and shoved him toward the hatch. Vak grabbed Bashir's arm and pulled him in and ahead, keeping the hatch open for Westfall.

With a few parting shots down the corridor the captain climbed in and pulled the hatch shut behind him. He twisted in the tiny space, firing a blast that welded the seal of the access hatch shut - a heartbeat before Blake's weight slammed heavily against the other side.

The captain heard Blake's struggles to open the panel, heard excited shouts and angry cursing from the corridor. Gritting his teeth, he tucked the rifle under his arm and crawled forward on his elbows, shoving Vak ahead of him. "Go. Let's get out of here."

Further ahead, Aya craned a glance over her shoulder. She tried not to let the angry defeat show in her voice. "Back to Sickbay, sir?"

"We can't do anything in Sickbay," Westfall muttered. "Nothing but get trapped again...." Then he shook his head. "Lieutenant Kato. Go back to Sickbay and get Ptacek and Lausten. These tunnels will lead to the bridge - we'll meet you there. Bashir, Vak, you're with me."

Aya nodded quickly and hurried to the intersection of conduits. She turned left, the rest of them went right. The bridge would be ahead, maybe two hundred meters.

It was a hopeless effort, Westfall knew it was hopeless, and he was far beyond caring. He would surrender the bridge of his vessel after he was phasered into submission. Not before.

***

"Get that hatch open!" Blake spat. He grabbed Ensign Milne by the arm and yanked him to a kneeling position beside him, hell-bent on pursuing the captives down the conduit himself if he had to.

"No! We can't!" a voice answered.

Blake whirled around. "What do you mean, we can't?"

"There's an intersection fifteen meters in...sir," the hapless officer faltered, reddening. "They'd hide there and pick us off one by one."

"Damn!" He threw his phaser rifle to the floor with such force that it bounced before clattering to a stop against the bulkhead. "Then we'll have to think of something else. Where can they go from here?"

One of Emily's younger engineers, Crewman Ris, could handle this question and pounced eagerly on the answer. "Not far. This section of the ship is closed off, so they could only reach...." He thought for a moment. "Sickbay. Or the bridge."

Blake frowned, regaining his composure, before ordering his people down the corridors with a swift jerk of his head. "You, get Sickbay secured and then meet us at the bridge. The three of you, follow me. They won't last long.

Chapter 6