17 Battle Lines by Greg Brodeur & Dave Galanter

Author:Greg Brodeur & Dave Galanter [Brodeur, Greg & Galanter, Dave]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General, Fiction, Science Fiction, Space Opera
ISBN: 9780743453844
Publisher: Simon and Schuster
Published: 2003-06-25T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 17

"WHAT'S THE STUN SETTING ON THIS?" PARIS LIFTED THE weapon, gesturing with it. Stithta gazed at it almost longingly. He'd gone from the man in charge, with four guards securing more than four dozen Voyager refugees-to the man held captive, his four guards dead.

Paris fingered the setting dial, spinning it to one end. "Is this the lowest?"

The Gimlon commander was silent, his eyes twitching again, a grayish bruise forming on his chin and spreading to his cheek. He was scared. And Paris liked that.

"You will be dead soon," Stithta said, still coveting the rifle, his threat sounding hollow.

Paris almost hoped the Gimlon coward would make a grab for the rifle so he could get clubbed again.

"Maybe I just don't need the stun setting for you," Paris said. He wanted to poke the barrel of the disrupter into the Gimlon's chest and knock him over. Stithta had ordered Chakotay's death-now he deserved to die as well.

"Chen," Paris called. "Get up here." He had to get away from the gutless murderer and he backed away as far as he could without falling from the small pedestal.

Chen quickly bounded up to join them, looking refreshed and recovered. Youth ... Paris had that once, and not too

long ago. Lately he was feeling very old. Chakotay ... all the Edesians on the transport... all dead. That would age anyone.

It had become obvious who the real villains were in this conflict The Gimlon were ruthless. The Edesians had treated the Starfleeters with relative kindness, considering the circumstances. Maybe that was only part of the story, but certainly it was enough to make Paris no longer care if Stithta lived or died.

"Search him," Paris ordered Chen, gesturing to the Gimlon commander. "Carefully."

Nodding, Chen approached the Gimlon slowly, his expression apprehensive. As the young ensign patted down his subject, Paris wished he knew for sure if there was a stun setting on the rifle. He'd have liked to stun Stithta and then search him for weapons or communications devices.

"You're lucky," Paris said, his voice so hard it somewhat surprised even him. "If I didn't think I might need you, you'd probably be dead now."

Stithta said nothing as Chen finished frisking him. The young ensign had come up empty, and shrugged his shoulders.

"Nothing, sir."

Paris nodded, but decided the search had been too cursory and superficial, and he wasn't satisfied. Chen was from Engineering, not Security.

Neither was Paris, but he'd been searched enough times to know how it should be done.

"We want communications equipment," he told Stithta.

The Gimlon commander smirked his nervous smirk. "I will spit on your corpse-if anything is left after you've been killed."

"Trying to convince me or yourself?" Paris stroked the rifle's trigger with his index finger, ready to fire.

Then again-they were on Stithta's ship, and the Gimlon seemed to combine the worst attributes of the Romulans and the Cardassians, and with more than a little Colonel Greene thrown in.

"Everyone spread out!" Paris spun toward the door through which they'd taken Chakotay.

If they were being watched-if Stithta's men had seen all

that had happened .

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