CHAPTER THIRTY
Tammas and his Klingon task force huddled close together, their backs towards a half wall, but not touching it. Looking over the wall one could see down to the next level, where one of the three generators rotated around a complex crystalline structure. The other two generators were in similar compartments, in a triangular pattern a hundred paces away from the one below. Getting to their present location had cost two Kelvan guards their lives. Fortunately for Tammas and Gowr, they had not been in true Kelvan form, but had been transformed to appear as Romulans. Tammas hadn't done the actual killing, but, none the less, he had the blood stains on his poncho to show for it. Below, around the generator itself, were a number of Romulan guards. There was one female present, and she was wearing a bracelet which seemed to be made from the same material as the generator. Tammas had given strict warning that anyone wearing a glowing bracelet was not to be killed, and so far, only women were discovered to be wearing them.
"There's seven of them," N'elent counted. "But I am puzzled. I have never heard of Romulan guards that did not carry disruptors."
"They're not exactly affiliated with the Romulan government," Tammas offered. “I believe they’re Kelvan, in Romulan form.”
"Still, N'elent has a point. A Romulan without a disruptor is like a Denebian Slime Devil with out slime. We have seen no one with any sort of energetic weapons. Only swords and knives. I would understand this if they were Klingons, but they are merely Romulans, or Kelvan if you prefer," Gowr said, spitting with disgust.
Tammas brought his hands together in front of his mouth, as if in prayer, as he drew conclusions from his friends’ observations. "Of course. That makes sense. It has to be."
"Another feeling?" N'elent asked.
"Yes," Tammas said with a smile, rubbing his hands together. "This is going to be easier than I thought. If I'm right, we won't even need to plant our explosives."
"Explain," Gowr asked.
"Obviously these crystal generators, or, more precisely, psychic accumulators, are sensitive to disruptor energy. Perhaps the energized crystal resonates with the same frequency of a normal phaser blast. The harmonics of a direct phaser, or disruptor, will cause the crystal's lattice to shatter and disintegrate."
"Are you saying we shoot one of these accumulators and the whole complex goes?" Gowr asked.
"Exactly!" Tammas praised.
"That doesn't give us much time to evacuate," N'elent said.
"Oh, but it does!" Tammas assured her. "It will be like striking a tuning fork. The crystal will begin to vibrate, the vibrations will spread through the entire crystalline structure, spreading out from the impact source like ripples in a pond, and then the echo will induce the over lapping harmonic and enharmonic dissonance which will shatter the entire crystal grid, and when that happens, the sudden release of all that energy should produce some rather dramatic results..."
"Sounds reasonable," Gowr said, considering it a moment. He nodded, as he talked himself into accepting Tam's theory.
On queue, the three of them drew their disruptors, tuned them to the maximum power setting, counted to three, stood, turned, aimed down at the generator-accumulator, and fired simultaneously. They couldn't have been more synchronous had they rehearsed it a hundred times. They acted as if of one mind, and one spirit, sustaining fire perhaps several seconds too long. The unexpected results forced them to duck back down below the half wall.
The disruptor bolts did indeed hit the accumulator. From there, the three separate energy bolts ricochet off the accumulator, heading for the wall or floor respectively, only to ricochet again off the lines of crystals embedded in the floor or wall, dividing it into multiple beams. Each time the beams struck, they divided into two separate beams of energy and flew to other point in the room to repeat the process. It was an extremely loud, hair raising, process. One of the bolts exited the chamber below and ended its life at the feet of Gowr, after having bounced off the ceiling. The floor wasn't even charred.
Gowr and N'elent scowled at Tammas. He shrugged, helplessly.
"Then again, the energized crystal could have reflective properties which makes disruptor fire extremely dangerous, even to the person firing," Tammas offered.
Gowr growled, drew his bat' telh, and jumped over the parapet to the floor below.
"Wait!" Tammas yelled, a bit late. He dropped his disruptor and followed Gowr over the wall. Only while falling did he wish he had considered the situation more thoroughly. It was a longer drop than he had expected, and the stairs had only been right behind him. He hit the floor and rolled, distributing the energy from the fall evenly enough to avoid injury. He came up standing. No sooner than he had stood, he had to duck and roll to avoid a Romulan sword coming at him. He fell over two dead Romulan guards that had neatly absorbed partial disruptor bolts, and came up standing a second time, with his sword in a defensive posture.
N'elent had landed on the floor behind the Romulan attacking Tammas. The Romulan’s sword came down hard on Tam’s sword, and he growled in frustration at the block. He didn’t even seem to notice that he had been slain by N’elent. He simply fell over as she withdrew her sword from his flesh. She stepped out of its way and moved to attack another guard. Tammas stood, searching for someone to fight. Gowr was taking two on for himself, and they were forcing him towards the corner. Tammas did the unexpected. He slipped up behind one of the Romulans and administered a Vulcan Nerve pinch to the shoulder. The guard fell to the floor, unconscious. Gowr dispatched the remaining opponent, and then killed the guard Tammas had rendered unconscious.
“What did you do that for?” Tammas asked.
“So he won’t wake and sneak up behind me!” Gowr said.
"Where did you learn that Vulcan nerve pinch?" N'elent asked Tammas.
"I don't know, actually," Tammas said, trying to figure out where that had come from. “I haven’t been formally trained.”
"You aren't Vulcan," N'elent said. "Are you?"
"And I did not need your help," Gowr complained.
"Well, excuse me for wanting to do my share..." Tammas said. He was about to suggest they start planting the first round of explosives when ten guards from the adjoining room entered, coming to investigate all the noise. Tammas offered them to Gowr as compensation for interrupting his kill. Gowr and N'elent charged forward, smiling at the promise of more battle. Tammas shook his head and followed.
The door to Selar’s room opened and a familiar face appeared. Doctor Selar greeted her with almost a trace of enthusiasm. "Counselor Troi? Are you well?"
"As well as anyone can be, considering the circumstances," Troi offered. She held her wrist up and shook it to show off her bracelet. “Looks like we’re all in fashion.”
"He’s insane,” Simone continued to mumble. She was hugging her knees and rocking back and forth.
“She senses Garcia,” Selar explained.
“I do, too,” Deanna said. “He’s close.”
“We must prepare to escape when the moment presents itself,” Selar said.
“I agree, but we’re not going to enlist any one here,” Deanna said. “Thinking about escape, even suicide, makes one ill. And since most of these people have been here for upwards of twenty years, they’re well conditioned not to resist.”
“I know a way out,” Simone said.
“Are you going to be alright?” Deanna asked her.
Simone stood, pulling herself up right in perfect deportment. “I am a Princess,” she insisted, and strolled out of the room.
Selar pursed her lips, expecting Deanna to make a comment. Deanna just shrugged. “She’s a princess,” Deanna said, joining Selar in pursuit.
The battle was over almost as quickly as it had started and Nelent lay dying on the floor. It had been over so quickly that Tammas barely remembered holding any conscious thought and as she die, he watched the replay in his head, trying to understand what had happened. He had been operating strictly on automatic, his body going through the motions and forms he had committed to kinesthetic memory through constant repetition. N'elent had dispatched her three Romulans and had turned to help Tammas with one of his. He had not been faring well, and the attack was forcing him to retreat from his team. In one clean cut maneuver, she killed her Romulan. The Romulan fell to the floor, the sound of air bubbling through blood as air escaped through the wounds in his back. His cry was strange, robbed of its force. One of the four that had been engaging Gowr turned at his companion's gargled his last note and launched himself at N'elent while she was maneuvering to help Garcia. The Romulan's swords went cleanly into her side, just below the rib cage. He extricated his sword from her body, using his foot to hold her body back, shoving her while pulling his sword free. Tammas screamed. His sword struck his present enemy, and he felt the initial resistance of the flesh before pushing through to the organs, like gutting a fish. He ran the sword deep, all the way to the hilt, pushing it upwards towards the Romulan’s chest. This had left him close enough to head-butt the man, which he did to quicken the demise. The angle had required extra force to bring the sword loose, tearing flesh and spilling the contents of his chest. Garcia had nearly tripped as he turned on the Romulan that had injured N’elent. He had doubled forth his effort, striking at the Romulan with renewed vigor. It was pure rage, and the clashing of swords drove him on. Metal against metal was the heart beat to Tam's new song. Unable to do anything but defend against the blows, the Romulan had retreated, finally dropping his sword. Tammas didn't even pause. He delivered the fatal blow, spinning to add momentum and weight to the blade. It was a movie maneuver, but the Romulan had been so stunned by the force of the attack he could only watch with dread. The decapitation was final, leaving Garcia in a whirl wind of emotion, sickness at the number of dead lying at his feet. The smell nauseated him, as well as the slimy, mess under hisfeet.
Tammas forced himself back to the present and ran to N'elent's side.
"You are Klingon," she said, looking into his eyes.
He let go of his sword and took her hand. He was not prepared for the out pouring of emotion. He became totally immersed in her dwindling life force to the exclusion of all else, as if increasing the level of attention would alone sustain her. Two more guards had entered, one of them female. Gowr cleanly dispatched them, before finishing the last of his previous fight. Gowr dropped to N'elents other side. She was having difficulty staying conscious, her breathing coming in short gasps. Garcia spied ten more guards coming, pulled N’elent’s disruptor from its holster and fired. The first guard disappeared in a dance of lights and agony. So did the second one as Garcia held the trigger for a sustained blast that melted a hole right through him and nailed the third behind him. The fourth side stepped it, but Garcia hit the floor with the beam, scattering the energy. It rained disruptor energy down the hall, killing everyone that had decided to investigate the noise.
N’elent made a gasping sound, touching Garcia’s face, illuminated by disruptor light. Garcia threw the empty disruptor down and held her hand firm to his face, aware that the wetness was her blood.
“Be the last thing I see, love,” N’elent told Garcia.
Gowr forcefully held her eyes open.
N'elent expired, smiling, her eyes never wavering from Garcia’s. The spark faded, and she was gone. Tammas and Gowr turned their heads heaven wards and howled, and then Tammas fell back, fighting his tears.
"Come, brother," Gowr said. "She is gone, and we have work to do."
"No!" Tammas raged. Beside him was the dead female Romulan, her arm stretched out towards Tammas, knife still in hand. Tammas removed her bracelet, and put it on himself. At first the shock was overwhelming, but a soothing, familiar force came over him and he found himself in control of the flow. The Ancient One, the facilitator of this technology connected with him, offering her strength. He now knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this Fortress, the Communication Array, had been carved from Living Rock, perhaps kin to the Living Rock on El, which he had climbed and mind melded with in his youth. Had that been why he was called to climb the path and tocuh the sacred heart? He reached out and touched N'elents body. The bracelet brightened, flared, and dimmed. N'elent stirred and sat up.
"What happened? Was I knocked unconscious?" N'elent asked, worried about her honor.
Gowr laughed and Tammas howled with delight. She was even more confused than when she had awaken, but both warriors welcomed her back to life with hugs. Tammas kissed her.
"He knows I'm here, now," Tammas laughed. He stood, picking up his sword. He spun, yelling up into the emptiness. "He knows I'm going to kill him!"
"Tam?" N'elent asked.
For a brief moment, sanity seemed to reign in Tam's eyes, and he removed his back pack with the explosives. He smiled at his friends. "Plant the charges, as planned. If you don't hear from me again in twenty minutes, detonate. Blow this place to hell."
"Where are you going?" Gowr asked, standing.
"To meet death," Tammas said. He closed his eyes, searching for the answer. All the answers were available, but he only needed one. Space-time was an illusion. Matter was simply energy. Energy. Vibrations in space-time, but not separate, as most people imagine the two. Space time and particles were all one piece of fabric, for lack of a better analogy. Particles and waves, Nature’s assumed duplicity, was neither and both, spread out across the canvas of space-time. Subatomic particles opened themselves up for explorations. Quarks. Charms. Ups. Downs... Descriptor values, rates of spin, polarity charges, velocity, probability waves. Probability. Probability of being wave, or particle, of being in one place in space/time or another. Change only one of the values of the descriptor and the particle would seemingly appear and disappear. It was analogous to turning it a quarter turn, a ninety degree angle, spinning it from a third dimension into a fourth, and another right turn into a fifth, and so on into eternity... And yet, it was nothing like that analogy at all. Atoms existed in a defined parameter of set values of probability. It did not exclude the probability of finding it outside the defined parameters, but probability of finding it in other forms or places reached towards infinity. Theoretically all it would take was a change in the descriptor value. It was as simple as tuning a guitar. And...
From Gowr's perspective, Tammas phased out of existence. It was as if Tammas had become two dimensional and suddenly turned sideways. A video image fading, flattening first to a vertical line, then squashing down horizontally, becoming a mere dot, and then nothing. Literally winking out of existence.
Gowr turned to N'elent, not knowing what to think.
Tammas discovered that there was no non-existence in nature. No death. Only a changing of states. It was a state of being that, for him, was nearly changed permanently, but his intent carried some weight. Probability laws suggested that the odds of a large group of atoms simultaneously relocating were low and relocating to some new place even lower. There was definitely some resistance. It took some struggle to convince them not to return to their last known position in space-time, but once they were all of one mind, they went where directed. Once there, even though they really didn't go anywhere, it became another struggle to convince them to crystallize back into their particle-wave existence. They all seemed to have a mind of their own. Tribbles. He saw them as Tribbles. How could life be made up of Tribbles? He asked himself. But he realized getting lost in such a tangent at this moment was too dangerous. He focused.
Tammas found himself in front of the main dais, staring up at the man on the throne. Garcia was no longer holding the sword that he had been holding, but it was the least of his concerns. Rojan reached for the Kelvan bracelet simultaneously as Tammas reached for his. To an observer, nothing happened. The two merely looked at each other, standing in attack posture. To each of them, there were dozens of attacks and counter attacks that only they could see, in a virtual explosion of lights and energies warping around them. An exchange of energy that balanced out, leaving neither harmed. The battle was a computer war that seemed to stretch into hours of futile maneuvers, each trying to get the upper hand. They shared nothing but pure, mutual hatred and contempt. When that failed, they drew on the psychic energies available to them through the alien technology. The psionic attacks were also fruitless, balanced out, so that neither had come to any harm.
Rojan laughed the laugh of the criminally insane. Tammas kicked himself, believing he should have known that the psionic attacks had been a distraction, for while he was focused on countering the attacks, Rojan was using the Kelvan technology to call his guard into action. Garcia had expected that rojan would have had the upper hand because he had been using the technology longer, but the power base was equally shared between them.
Tammas turned to witness the threat materialize. On shelves at the far wall were hundreds of the de-hydrated, polyhedron balls, an entire army freeze dried, awaiting to be reconstituted through Kelvan technology. The bottom row disappeared and twenty soldiers appeared. They no sooner hit the floor than they started charging.
Tammas drew a knife and charged forward, throwing the knife at the first in line, hitting him squarely in the forehead. The lead man went down, his sword sliding across the floor. Tammas threw himself down, a shoulder roll, grabbing the sword by the hilt, coming up so that the blade sliced at the second soldier at the abdomen level. He dodged the third as he came to his feet, blocking and turning to finish off the second. He turned back to the third delivering a kick, hitting the fourth with the hilt of his sword. Pushed the fourth back into the fifth. He dodged the weapon of the sixth by using the third as a shield. He let the third drop, taking the sixth’s sword with him. Before Tammas got to the seventh soldier, another row of polyhedron balls had been converted into soldiers. He knew he couldn’t go on at this rate indefinitely. He would eventually loose.
Tammas reached for his disruptor, but it wasn’t there. And that was because he had carelessly discarded it. Then he smiled and touched the button on his Kelvan bracelet. The remaining Styrofoam like balls exploded, sending the constituents that had once comprised the Kelvan trained soldiers into the air like so much colored chalk dust. He had also noted, thanks to the technology, that all the soldiers were simply human, as opposed to modified Kelvan. There was a possibility that some of them may have even been his brothers. The remaining fighting force, already converted back into their human form all froze at the second touch of the button.
Tammas turned towards Rojan. He began the agonizing walk back, feeling some pain. Rojan seemed more reflective and less willing to engage in any further battles.
“So, Jude, the prodigal son has returned,” Rojan said. “And, you seemed to have mastered our technology. Very impressive. Even more impressive, non hesitance in the use of lethal force. I’m surprised you can function at all. I could barely contain the sense of power when I first tapped into the psychic energy of my Chosen.”
“I am compelled by conscience to ask you to surrender,” Tammas said. The Chosen, he mused. So that’s what he was calling the hostages. He could feel their energy behind him and it was a strain not to get lost in that power. He wanted to reach out with that energy and touch the stars. He wanted to listen to the Universe to hear what other voices might be out there in the night. “And release the hostages.”
Rojan laughed as if he were drunk. Indeed, he was drunk with power. “Or what?” Rojan asked.
“Oh, must we delve into trite dialogue?” Tammas asked. “Alright. Fine. Surrender or die. Are you happy now?”
"Kill him!" Rojan ordered, releasing his soldiers from the Garcia induced stasis field.
Tammas closed his eyes for a moment to orientate. Drawing on the Kelvan technology and his years of role playing, and on the new abilities of the Chosen, along with their skills and knowledge, he felt invincible. He didn’t consider the odds, or the fact that he was duly out numbered. With all the power and technology at his disposal, this was just another game on the holodeck. A game where he had control over its matrix.
Tammas backed towards the dais, as if retreating. He allowed them to believe he was cornered and loosing. At the last moment, he leaped. He channeled the flow of power made available to him by the Chosen, changing particle descriptor values in order to decrease his weight. He executed a single somersault, no need to show off, he decided, and landed on the dais, twisting, bringing his sword around to bear on Rojan. The sword rebounded off an empty throne. Tam immediately spun the other way, his sword meeting Rojan's sword, sparking. Battle light just like in the epic poem by Homer. The guards below scrambled like two dozen firemen having freshly woken to the sounds of an alarm. They ran towards the stairs that flowed up to the top of the dais. Rojan pushed his weight down on Tam’s sword.
"You can't kill me," Rojan said. "Anything you do to me will cause you an equal amount of discomfort."
"You've gone against nature, Rojan. The system here is male and female, checks and balances. The power base here is severely out of proportion. When the dam breaks, you will be carried away with the flood," Tammas promised.
Tammas summoned a surge a power and pushed Rojan far enough away he could have time to set up for another attack. Indeed, he had pushed hard enough that Rojan flew off the dais. In turn, Tam met the first two soldiers topping the dais, killing them, and then leaped backwards to the seat of the throne. From there he jumped to the back of the throne, forcing the chair to swivel out of reach of the approaching guard. He leaped once more into the air, flying over the soldiers, landing on the stairs just behind the last two soldiers. He killed them before they even knew that he was behind them. He turned and fled down the stairs. Rojan was at the bottom of the stairs waiting for him.
Apparently, Tam’s days of games had given him an advantage in the creativity department, for Rojan could have simply flown back up to the top of the dais to continue fighting. In addition to that, the soldiers were performing no better than keystone cops, for only the ones in front had seen Tam fly over their heads. They turned to pursue only to run head long into their fellow soldiers still trying to come up. Watching them regroup was a comical thing he didn’t have time to enjoy.
Tam heard a voice in his head. “There are a number of communiqué channels now available. Are you inclined to respond?”
“Who are you?” Tammas asked. “One of the Chosen?”
The answer came so fast it was hard to assimilate the information, and it nearly got him killed. The world moved in slow motion; Rojan’s attacks, the moving of the guards, the space battle raging above and all around, seemed surreal against the back drop of this new focus. The voice in his head accessed his personal memories as if he were no more than a computer, very much like the Living Rock, and then responded to his question, explaining that she was comparable in intellect to the Guardian of Time, and may have even been created by the same race. Her purpose was to facilitate communication between species throughout the Universe.
“So, you allowed your facility to be over taken and used in this manner?” Garcia asked. He felt as if he were in two places at once. In one world he was fighting for his life. In the other, he was talking to an illuminated, column of marble that was the center piece of this Communication Fortress.
“My function is to facilitate communication between species,” the Facilitator responded, choosing an identity from Garica’s mind: Babel.
“Can you separate Rojan from the power of the Chosen?” Tammas asked.
Rojan’s sword met Tam’s sword.
Babel reemphasized that her purpose was to facilitate communication between species. It was not her function to interfere in the affairs of those who chose to use the facilities.
“But you could!” Tammas demanded.
“She can’t!” Rojan said, slicing Garcia’s arm. “She’s a computer and she does what she’s told. You really have been human too long. Your anthropomorphizing technology is not healthy behavior. This shows an apparent weakness in your training.”
Rojan swung hard, hitting the dais. Garcia pinned Rojan’s sword to the dais with a foot and swung at his face with a fist. Rojan blocked, stepping in to hit Garcia in the gut. Tammas fell back, nearly stumbling as he retreated back up the stairs. To use the full power of the Chosen, he needed to be at the focus of the accumulated power. That was the top of the dais. The Dais was the column of light in his head. The crystal lines leading up to the throne pulsed as waves of energy flowed towards it. The crystal bracelets pulsed in unison, heart beats for the collective energies. The clashing of swords brought Garcia back to his immediate demands.
"I will control it," Rojan snarled. "As I will control you. Once you've joined the family, you’re always part of the family."
"I will not be dominated," Tammas assured him. "I will oppose you until your death, even if it means my own."
The stairs allowed only two persons at a time to proceed safely up or down, and now Tammas was fighting Rojan and two soldiers directly behind him. One soldier died easy enough, but was quickly replaced by another. He wondered how long he could maintain this, as Rojan was proving to be an equally skilled fighter, though less imaginative.
The doors to the audience chamber burst open, and N'elent and Gowr charged in, bloodied from their latest battle. The distraction was enough for Tammas to parry and attack. Rojan lost his footing and went rolling down the stairs. There was momentary surge of power into Tam as Rojan fell from the dais. Tam turned and dispatched the soldiers on the stairs, fighting through them all until he was once again on top. It was like playing king of the mountain.
Energy coursed through Garcia as he sat in the control chair. He spun the chair, drunk with power. That drunkenness was debilitating, and that was probably the only thing keeping the powers balanced between him and Rojan. His awareness grew with leaps and bounds, slowing the world down as he took note of new things of interests. He saw the Enterprise and the Sutherland and decided to free the two Federation ships. Just for the hell of it, he freed all the ships from their restrictive holds. Their power systems came on line.
"No!" Rojan yelled. "The wormhole’s not big enough yet."
Tammas laughed. He couldn’t remember ever having felt so good. Rojan rushed up the stairs to engage him again.
A solitary Romulan appeared on the Bridge. Kelinda turned to face him, but before she could speak, Worf launched himself at her. With one hit he knocked her unconscious, and in the same move pointed his weapon at the Romulan. The Romulan raised his hands in the classic human pose of “I surrender.”
Riker removed Kelinda’s wrist band so that she wouldn’t be able to use her Kelvan Technology again and then focused on the newcomer.
“Get her off my Bridge,” Picard ordered, and turned to the Romulan. “What are you doing on my ship?”
“Captain Glor, of the Mercenary ship the Pa Nun, sends his compliments, and suggests you prepare for a glorious battle,” The Romulan said.
"Return to battle stations, everyone,” Picard said.
"Captain!" Worf, having returned to tactical, demanded attention. "Sensors show that all ships in this system are powering up. Weapon systems coming on line all around us..."
Just as suddenly, all systems on the Enterprise began to power back up.
"Shields up!" Riker ordered. "Bring us around full impulse... Ready all phaser banks..."
"But, sir?" Worf asked. "Who are we going to fire on?"
"Scan for targets with four or less life forms..." It was the Romulan officer. “Also, any ship transmitting transponder code 7214 should be considered as friendly.”
"Frequencies are being jammed from the planetoid," Data announced.
"Make it a free for all," Picard said, calmly. "Multiple targets. Fire at will. Worf, target engines only."
"Intercepting a hail from the Pa Nun, Sir..."
"On speaker," Picard ordered.
"This is Captain Glor, of the Pa Nun, to Federation ship Enterprise," the Captain announced. "They’re jamming transponder codes. The ships running with only starboard beacons are on our side."
"Put those markers on tactical." Picard ordered. "Thank you, Captain Glor! Number One? Assemble a crew, and report to the battle bridge. Prepare for saucer separation."
“Captain!” Worf yelled, excited. “The Borg ship is operational.”
“Focus our fire on the Borg,” Picard said. “Data, broadcast on all frequencies, tell them to focus on the Borg.”
“Aye, Captain,” Data said. “The Borg have made their usual declaration, but it seems most interested in the Kelvan ships.”
In the back ground radio noise, the words of the Borg declaration, “re