The Battle Of Betazed Part 17

But the key question was the one that had yet to be voiced.

"Could Moset have succeeded?" Picard asked.

Chapter Sixteen.

O N THE WINDSWEPT RIDGE of the Jarkana Mountains, Deanna struggled against the biting wind to reach Tevren. The killer lay flat on his back, a small, charred dot in his clothing just below his right clavicle. He was still breathing. Deanna felt no emanations from his mind. Unconscious.

Only when she felt certain Tevren wasn't about to reawaken did she turn to her friend. Data lay stiff and inoperative, and the front of his uniform smoked where her phaser had burned through the fabric and scorched the bioplast sheeting of his chest. She hurriedly reached behind his neck, released a flap on his scalp to expose the tripolymer skull within, and found the contact that would reboot his positronic systems.

Data's eyes blinked open, and he bolted to a sitting position. "What happened?"

"I shot you," Deanna explained. "Sorry."

"No apologies are needed, Counselor. I am certain you had a very good reason."

Deanna pointed behind him, and Data looked at Tevren, sprawled unconscious across the rocks. Deanna explained how and why Tevren had manipulated him.

"I will run a self-diagnostic to check for damage." Data's eyes shifted back and forth laterally as the android checked his systems. "Aside from a hole point-four centimeters in diameter in three of my upper pectoral struts, and a sear along one of my backup subprocessing units, all systems are in working order. Shall I reactivate the subs.p.a.ce transponder?"

Deanna nodded. "We need to get Tevren down to Beverly and sedated before he comes to. Otherwise, we're back where we started."

"Do not worry, Counselor. Some years ago, I mastered the Vulcan nerve pinch. If I feel him stir, I will render him unconscious myself."

Data shifted the stunned Betazoid over his shoulders with ease, and Deanna started down the mountain with Data and his ominous load close behind. If Tevren awoke before they could get him to Beverly, there was no telling what he might do to them. That threat caused Deanna to increase her speed, and she stumbled and slid several times in her haste. Data remained sure-footed and fast. At one point he reached out and grabbed her elbow to prevent her from tumbling head over heels down the steep path.

Data carried Tevren into the shallow cave and laid him next to Commander Vaughn, whose face had grown more pale in the short time Deanna had been gone. Data stepped back outside to stand guard and broadcast his signal.

"You need to sedate Tevren, quickly," Deanna said to Beverly, "and keep him under until we get to Betazed."

The doctor examined his wound first and verified that it wasn't life-threatening, then reached for a hypo. "What happened?"

"I had to shoot him."

"He didn't try to hurt you?"

"He seemed more anxious than angry," Deanna explained. "He didn't seem well when I found him, but he was threatening Data with a phaser."

With a puzzled frown, the doctor set aside the hypospray, picked up her medical tricorder, and ran a quick scan of the Betazoid. "I can't sedate him. The drugs would kill him."

"But if he wakes up-"

Beverly sat back on her heels and stared up at Deanna. "He's dying. He needs a sickbay as much as Vaughn."

"Dying?" Deanna said in disbelief. "But the wound-"

"It wasn't the phaser," Beverly explained. "All those years of having that psionic inhibitor in his brain have made him dependent upon it. The sudden renewed activity of his telepathic cortex, after years of inactivity, is killing him. I'm showing intense neural shock. His legs are already paralyzed. Even if he regains consciousness, he'll be in no shape to cause anyone harm."

"But he can't die," Deanna insisted.

Data hurried inside. "Counselor, I just received a pulse in answer to my latest signal. The Defiant is here."

Within minutes, the away team was transported aboard the small ship. Crewmembers stepped forward to carry Commander Vaughn and Tevren to the medical bay, and Beverly followed. Deanna and Data went to the bridge to meet with Worf.

"I regret the delay," Worf said. "I came as quickly as I could after a.s.sisting the Enterprise."

"I'm glad you're all right," Deanna said. "I was worried that the Jem'Hadar might have-"

"The Dominion has taken too much from me already," Worf said with his characteristic snarl. "Today I repaid a few debts."

"And the Enterprise?" Data asked.

"Captain Picard had the situation well under control when I left him," Worf said. "Commander Riker's away team was still on Sentok Nor, and the Tulwar and Scimitar were harrying the enemy."

Deanna noted Worf's omission. "The Katana?"

"Lost with all hands. They died valiantly as warriors."

Deanna quelled her grief. Forty lives had been lost on the Katana and Commander Vaughn was near death, but she realized the toll would rise geometrically before Betazed was liberated.

If Betazed was liberated. There were still fifty thousand Jem'Hadar on the planet, and if Beverly couldn't save Tevren, there might be fifty million before long.

"But you will be pleased to know," Worf went on, "that long-range sensors are showing that their mission was successful. Sentok Nor has been destroyed."

"At least something's gone right today," Deanna muttered, then realized she'd spoken aloud. "Worf, I'm sorry. That's wonderful news. How long before we reach Betazed?"

Worf turned to the young Ferengi at conn. "ETA, Ensign Nog?"

"Forty minutes, sir."

"Steady as she goes."

"Deanna," Beverly's voice sounded over Troi's combadge "I need you in the medical bay."

Fearful of what news awaited her, Deanna hurried from the bridge. When she entered the medical bay, however, her spirits lifted. Vaughn, his right shoulder bandaged and his arm in a sling, was sitting up on one of the beds. His face lit up in greeting when Deanna entered the room.

"Your color has improved, Commander," Deanna said. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better, thanks to Dr. Crusher. I should be back to normal in a day or so. And, as I understand it, thanks to you and Mr. Data as well."

Deanna ignored the offer of grat.i.tude. "I'll turn command of the mission back to you, then."

He shook his head. "Not yet, I'm afraid. Doctor's orders. Did I thank you for saving my life?"

She nodded. "But I should be thanking you. You were ready to die for Tevren."

"Not for Tevren," Vaughn corrected. "For Betazed. There's a difference. And I only did what any Betazoid would have done. Let's just hope it wasn't in vain."

On the other biobed nearby, Beverly completed her examination of Tevren and joined Deanna and Vaughn. "I'm afraid I have some bad news," the doctor said softly. "The unique technology of Tevren's psionic inhibitor isn't in the Defiant 's databases. And given the cla.s.sified nature of Tevren's incarceration, I doubt very much it's in the Enterprise 's, either."

"Then we'll find the specs on Betazed," Deanna said.

Beverly touched her arm. "I don't think Tevren's going to survive this trip, Deanna. His deterioration is continuing, and I can't stop it. There's nothing more I can do for him."

Deanna couldn't believe it. "There's got to be something-"

"There isn't. I'm sorry. I don't know exactly how much longer he's going to last, but it isn't long. And he's asked to speak with you."

Deanna nodded. She could feel Tevren's extreme anxiety as she approached his bed. He turned his head toward her, his dark eyes no longer the same horrible void, but filled with the fear that emanated from his mind.

"Am I dying?" he demanded in his dry voice that reminded Deanna of the rustle of dead leaves.

"Yes," Deanna said softly. "Your body is reacting adversely to the removal of your psionic inhibitor."

"Poor little Deanna," Tevren said with more than a hint of sarcasm.

"Why poor me?"

"You're so deliciously conflicted. I've felt it ever since you broke me out of Lanolan's box. If I survive, you have to bring me home, and the prospect of other Betazoids knowing what I know terrifies you." Tevren was obviously finding it increasingly difficult to speak. The words started to come out in ragged breaths, but he refused to stop. "Now I'm dying, and somewhere deep inside, in a place you won't admit exists, you're glad. Because it means you did everything you could for Betazed, and now you think fate has seen fit to absolve you of the responsibility."

Deanna said nothing and turned to go, but Tevren's bony fingers caught her wrist and pulled her back, forcing her to look at him. "Can't handle facing yourself, Counselor?"

Deanna glared at him in undisguised hate, but chose her words carefully. "Whether that's true or not is a moot point. For better or worse, you are going to die before we make it home, and the choice really is out of my hands now."

"Is it?" Tevren whispered.

Before she could react, he invaded her mind, pushing aside all barriers and forcing himself into her psyche. The events of his life cascaded through her in an instant, including every torturous deed and brutal murder he had ever committed. With horrifying clarity, she witnessed how he had killed his victims and, even worse, experienced the euphoria, the arousal he'd felt from soaking up the psychological terror and physical agony of his victims.

Recoiling in horror, she wrenched herself from his grasp, but it was too late. She knew everything Tevren had wanted her to know, and the thought of it made him smile.

"Go to h.e.l.l, Deanna."

Alarms sounded on the biofunction monitors above his bed, and Beverly came running. Working desperately, she activated the neural stimulators on Tevren's temples and injected him with a ma.s.sive dose of epinephrine. After several frantic minutes of treatment, the doctor reached up and switched off the monitors.

"He's gone," Beverly said. "I'm sorry. There was nothing else I could do."

Deanna turned away from Tevren's body and crashed against an instrument cart, toppling it as she fell against the wall. Her mind reeled from Tevren's intrusion and the awful truth of his dying malediction.

"Deanna!" Beverly cried, rushing to help her. The doctor eased her into a chair as Vaughn ran over, both of them saying her name over and over, demanding to know if she was all right.

All she could think about was the horrific burden Tevren had forced upon her, the knowledge that was now hers to share or withhold, the responsibility she thought she'd been freed from.

Filled with self-loathing and an anguish she thought would consume her, Deanna fled to her quarters, bitterly aware that Tevren had won.

With deliberate calm, Picard marched toward the Enterprise brig. O'Brien had already shown him the contents of Dr. Moset's padd, but it contained only indecipherable numerical data, and neither the captain nor O'Brien had been able to determine from those cryptic notes whether Moset had succeeded in creating telepathic Jem'Hadar. He had ordered the chief and La Forge to work on it while he resolved to take a more direct approach.

In the corridor outside the brig, Picard paused and straightened his uniform. Recognizing the maneuver as a stall before an unpleasant task, he took a moment to draw a deep breath. The prospect of confronting the doctor who had killed so many Bajorans and Betazoids repulsed him. a.s.suming the guise of a friend and colleague sickened the captain even more, but the sham might be his only chance of getting Moset to talk.

The captain strode into the brig and, hoping their absence would create a more congenial atmosphere, dismissed the guards.

In the far right cell, Moset huddled on a bunk behind a force field, his head resting on the wall, his knees drawn to his chest. The moment he spied the captain, the Carda.s.sian jerked to his feet. "Come to gloat?"

"On the contrary." Picard forced a warm and congratulatory tone. "I'm here to pay my respects to the man who won the Legate's Crest of Valor and made medical history for his work on the Fostossa virus."

Moset eyed him with suspicion. "How do you know about my work?"

"You're famous throughout the quadrant." Picard settled into a chair on the opposite side of the force field and tried to appear relaxed. "As a fellow scientist-"

"You're a Starfleet captain."

"True, but archaeology is my first love, and while my standing in the scientific community is insignificant compared to yours, I'm hoping you'll humor me."

The wariness hadn't left the Carda.s.sian's eyes. "How?"

"This d.a.m.nable war has kept me from my true pa.s.sion, my science. I miss stimulating conversations with colleagues, especially those with superior intellects, like yours."

Moset preened slightly at the praise, and Picard stifled a smile. Perhaps the exobiologist's enormous ego would work in the captain's favor after all.

"Someday," Picard continued, "this war will be over. Then everyone will remember that scientists, not soldiers, make the most important contributions to society."

"The war keeps interrupting my work," Moset grumbled. "I needed more time ..."

His eyes burned with pa.s.sion, and Picard noted with satisfaction that, with each stroke to Moset's ego, the doctor acted less hostile.

"Your work is much bigger than the war," Picard said, struggling not to gag on his words. "And from what little I've been able to learn, it was quite compelling. Unfortunately, because my orders were to destroy the station, you may not receive the credit you deserve for your research aboard Sentok Nor."

"I have no doubt the Federation will execute me," Moset said glumly.

Picard didn't bother explaining that the Federation didn't kill prisoners. Instead, he used Moset's misinformation to his advantage. "Perhaps I might be of some a.s.sistance."

Moset's expression brightened. "You're offering to help?"

"If you explain your work to me, in lay terms, of course, I might convince my superiors that your scientific knowledge is more important than the petty political differences between our peoples."

"You'd do that?"

"I cannot promise I would succeed. However, I can a.s.sure you that you will not be executed and that you will get full credit for your work."

Credit enough to rot in h.e.l.l, Picard thought darkly.

He kept his face impa.s.sive, knowing the notoriety Moset craved would keep the man behind a force field for the rest of his life. Recalling the dying Betazoids in the cargo bay, their suffering a direct result of the Carda.s.sian's experiments, Picard felt no guilt for misleading the man.

"I was so close." Moset paced the brig, seemingly unsuspicious of Picard's interest. "First, I isolated the gene that allows Betazoids to develop telepathy. Then I designed a way to transfer the gene into mature Jem'Hadar."