This was met with polite applause, which reddened Seven’s fair cheeks.
“However, there is a further addition to Voyager’s crew. I must advise all of you that what I am about to say is considered classified. You will each be responsible for advising your crews to the sensitivity of the matter.”
Eden cleared her throat before continuing. “It was reported that Commander Tom Paris’s wife and child were killed during the Borg Invasion.” Eden then tapped her combadge and said, “Commander Paris, please report to the conference room.”
A collective gasp sounded as moments later, the doors behind Eden opened and Tom and B’Elanna entered.
Conlon watched as both Seven’s and Chakotay’s faces filled with mingled disbelief and joy.
“A sect of Klingons known as the Warriors of Gre’thor believe that Miral Paris is a fated savior of the Klingon people. She was abducted and nearly killed and since then, Commander Paris and B’Elanna have done what they could to make the Warriors of Gre’thor believe that Miral was dead. We welcome B’Elanna Torres and Miral Paris aboard Voyager. We do not anticipate encountering the Warriors, but I have assured the Paris family that if we do, we will not hesitate to defend them. In the interest of avoiding any such unpleasantness, for the duration of our mission they will be entered into the ship’s manifest under aliases.”
“Be sure and advise your crews that the first person who refers to them in official reports by anything other than their aliases will spend this entire journey scrubbing plasma conduits,” Admiral Batiste added. “Are we clear?”
There were nods all around. Paris and B’Elanna quickly took their seats beside Captain Eden. Glancing around the rest of the table, Conlon saw either polite curiosity or genuine happiness. For her part, Conlon felt no small amount of consternation. B’Elanna Torres was a legend among the engineers who had served with her. Living up to her reputation would have been one thing.
Living in her presence?
That was something Nancy Conlon was not at all certain she was up to. Her spirits were buoyed, however, by the thought that at least now she would have a chance to consult and possibly learn a little something from one of the best engineers in Starfleet.
Eden raised her voice to settle the table as she continued, “I have asked B’Elanna to join this meeting in hopes that she might be able to shed a little light on her encounter with the alien vessel.” With a nod, she indicated that B’Elanna should begin.
The shy smile that had been B’Elanna’s default expression since she walked into the room vanished and Eden watched the transformation between the woman and the Starfleet officer. Technically, B’Elanna still enjoyed the rank of lieutenant commander. She had been on extended leave since the birth of her child. At some point, the issue would have to be resolved, but for now, Eden was content to allow her to reacclimate to the ship and get settled before pressing the issue.
“The vessel approached my position,” B’Elanna began. “Given its configuration, I thought that it might be the Borg. I noted the strange alloys present in the hull. When I attempted to hail the vessel, its only response was to open fire. I defended myself, and then Voyager showed up.”
“You knew we were coming,” Paris said a little too pointedly. “Why didn’t you just fall back and wait for us?”
“I had no way of knowing exactly when you would arrive,” B’Elanna replied. “I worried that if I left the area, I might miss the fleet. And frankly, the alien ship’s weapons systems weren’t that impressive.”
“Is it possible that these were part of the transformed Borg we’ve heard so much about?” Batiste asked. “Or perhaps, the Caeliar, Seven?”
“No,” Seven replied without hesitation. “The Borg are no more. And this could not have been the Caeliar.”
“How can you be certain?” Batiste asked.
“Commander Torres’s ship survived the encounter, and Voyager destroyed it easily. What Starfleet knows of the
Caeliar’s technology suggests that if it had been the Caeliar, this would not have been the case.”
Batiste seemed to accept Seven’s reasoning. “Captain Itak,” he said sharply, “I believe you were able to trace the vessel?”
The Hawking’s commanding officer replied gravely, “We began by analyzing the ship’s warp trail and we believe we have discovered the system of origin. It is located four light-years from our present position and is interesting in at least one critical respect.”
At this, Itak tapped a control on the table’s edge, activating a small holographic projector embedded in the center of the conference table. A three-dimensional representation of the system appeared for all to examine.
“Fourteen planets orbit a single, Class-F star. The third and fourth are Class-M. Our long-range scans indicate that these two planets, along with the seventh, which is Class-J, and the tenth, a Class-Y, show abundant life-form readings. We are definitely looking at a system that is home to billions of beings.”
“A gas giant and a Demon-class planet show life-form readings?” Paris asked.
“Yes,” Itak confirmed evenly.
“That is interesting,” Paris noted.
“I believe I just said that, Commander.”
As Eden considered the reality that these billions might now be their enemy, Itak continued. “Our analysis of the nebula has been completed. There is no sign of the transwarp hub. We are reading a large number of subspace instabilities. This entire sector appears to be filled with similar instabilities that may be the aftereffects of the Borg network’s destruction. Further study will be required to confirm this hypothesis.”
“Have you detected any other vessels in the system?” Batiste asked.
“Yes, sir,” Itak replied. “A small contingent appears to be present in orbit of the third planet.”
“Are all their vessels automated?” Eden asked.
“Unknown. They are heavily shielded,” Itak replied.
“It is safe to assume that the vessel we encountered was not their best armed or best defended,” Batiste interjected. “Captain Eden, I’d like you to take Voyager and attempt to establish contact. This fleet cannot start its work in the Delta quadrant by acquiring a reputation of firing first and asking questions never.”
Although Eden shared the sentiment, she was equally cognizant of the danger her ship now faced. “Aye, sir. I’d like to request that the Galen accompany us,” Eden said.
“Very well,” Batiste agreed. “I’ll join the Hawking . I’d like us to get a better look at these subspace instabilities. Will they impede warp drive within the sector?”
“No, sir,” Vorik chimed in.
“Then let’s get to it,” Batiste said, rising from his seat.
As the room emptied, Eden noted Conlon moving swiftly toward her.
“Something wrong, Nancy?” she asked.
“I’m going to take the slipstream drive offline for at least the next twenty-four hours if that’s all right with you,” Conlon said.
“Why?”
“It’s probably nothing, but I’m not taking any chances,” Conlon replied, clearly puzzled. “We ran a full diagnostic just after the excitement ended this morning and there’s a processing delay somewhere between the drive and deflector controls. We might have burned out a few components. I need to do a visual inspection to be sure. At any rate, I wouldn’t feel comfortable attempting another coordinated slipstream flight until I find the problem.”
“Track it down,” Eden ordered.
“I will,” Conlon replied. “If you could manage to keep us out of any fights for the next couple of days it would be a lot easier,” she added semi-seriously.
Eden assured her chief engineer, “That’s always my goal.”
B’Elanna kept her seat as everyone began to hurry from the room. On their way out, Vorik and Seven paused to express their pleasure in learning that she and Miral were unharmed and B’Elanna assured them that she was delighted to see both of them again. She hoped they would
speak again as soon as their respective duties permitted.
As they left she reflected that it had been years since she had participated in a meeting like this one and it was strange to sit there with no real responsibility resting on her shoulders. It was also refreshing to be intrigued by the prospect of encountering a new species. B’Elanna found it puzzling that the billions of life-forms present in the system would have chosen to explore space using only automated vessels.
Unless their primary intent isn’t exploration, B’Elanna thought.
A pair of familiar hands settled themselves on her shoulders. Turning, she saw Chakotay smiling down at her.
“Hey,” she said, smiling wistfully as Chakotay sank down into the empty seat beside her. The room was all but empty now.
“I still can’t believe it,” Chakotay said, irrepressible happiness writ large on his face.
“I’ve missed you too,” B’Elanna replied.
“When can I see Miral?”
“I’ll take you down to sickbay right now if you like. She’s probably sleeping, but you’re welcome to come just the same.”
Chakotay nodded. B’Elanna felt an uncomfortable weight nestled in her stomach. Raising her defenses she asked, “How come you’re not as pissed at me as the Doctor was? Or Harry, for that matter?”
Confusion flashed across Chakotay’s face.
“Why would I be pissed at you?”
A new and even more troubling thought entered B’Elanna’s mind. “You weren’t upset when you heard that I died?”
“I was devastated,” Chakotay replied seriously. “I’m sure everyone was.”
“Well, I’m sorry we had to put you through that,” B’Elanna apologized.
Chakotay took her hands in his.
“Listen to me. In the last few years I’ve lost too many people who were important to me. I’d give anything to have them back. I respect the choice you made. Truth be told, I probably wouldn’t have been much help to you at the time,” he admitted, chagrined. “But if I’ve learned anything, it’s this: Life is much too short to waste time wallowing in the past, especially when the future hands you a second chance. I love you, B’Elanna. You and Tom and Miral, you’re part of my family. There’s not a lot I wouldn’t forgive you.”
B’Elanna felt fresh tears rising but composed herself as she said, “Thank you. You don’t know how much that means to me right now. But I’ve still got work to do mending fences with everyone else.”
“Give them time,” Chakotay advised. “It’s a lot to take in all at once.”
B’Elanna nodded. “I can do that.” After a moment she asked, “Why did you resign your commission?”
“Command took Voyager from me. They questioned my abilities and my judgment.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
Chakotay half-smiled in recollection. “Talk to Tom. It will make more sense. At any rate, they were going to get around to giving me a new assignment at some point, but I couldn’t wait for that. Seven needed me.”
“Really?” B’Elanna asked, surprised.
“Yes,” Chakotay said, nodding. “She’s been through a lot, particularly in the last few months. She’s more vulnerable now than I’ve ever known her to be.”
“Are you and she …?” B’Elanna trailed off.
It took Chakotay a moment to follow.
“Are she and I what?”
“A couple again?” B’Elanna replied dubiously.
Chakotay shook his head. “No,” he said, dismissing the notion out of hand. “We’re friends. Good friends. But anything more is completely out of the question.”
“Why?”
Chakotay shrugged. “I have some healing to do myself before I even entertain the idea of a new relationship. And that’s the last thing she needs right now. Seven and I didn’t work out the first time for good reasons. We don’t need to go down that road again just to end up in the same place.”
“Isn’t it hard for you though?” B’Elanna asked, leaning in closer and lowering her voice.
“What?”
“Being here? Being around all of this without being a part of it?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” he replied.
B’Elanna shook her head. “I just got here. And right now all I care about is making sure Miral gets better and settling in with Tom. We haven’t lived as husband and wife in years.”
Chakotay considered her appraisingly.
“Uh-huh.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“What?” she asked again, more insistently.
“I know you, B’Elanna Torres. You’re not going to be happy sitting idly by while everyone else around you is busy exploring the Delta quadrant.”
B’Elanna struggled to deny his words, despite the fact that she was already toying with the same conclusion.
“Are you?” she asked.
“I made my choice,” he said. “I’ll figure out how to live with it.”
“When you do, let me know,” B’Elanna replied.
CHAPTER TEN
Harry sat somberly before an untouched plate of grilled salmon. Right now, Tom and B’Elanna were hosting a private dinner in their quarters for Chakotay, Seven, Barclay, and the Doctor. Harry hadn’t felt bad begging off when Vorik had done the same. Miral had been released from sickbay near the end of his duty shift and Tom had been walking around with an annoying spring in his step since. Harry had already told B’Elanna how happy he was to see her, and he’d get around to checking in on Miral later. But he simply couldn’t pretend that everything was fine between him and Tom.
No matter how many ways he tried to look at the situation from Tom’s point of view, he couldn’t see himself making the same choices Tom had. Yes, B’Elanna had insisted. And given all she’d been through the first time she’d faced the Warriors of Gre’thor, Harry got that her fear had made her all but completely irrational on the subject.
Not that she was going to win any Most Rational awards even before those dark days.
And yes, a promise made between a husband and wife was important. Harry had to believe that Tom wanted to tell him the truth all along but between B’Elanna and Kahless, he’d been outnumbered and really forced into deception.
But then again …
This was the place where Harry’s reason hit a solid wall of confusion and anger. At the end of the day, no matter what B’Elanna or Kahless or anyone else might have insisted, had Harry been in Tom’s place he never would have been able to bring himself to lie to his best friend. He couldn’t have done it, knowing the depth of grief Harry would feel when he learned of their supposed deaths.
He had gone back and forth a hundred times since B’Elanna had asked him to join them all for dinner. Harry still hadn’t had a chance to catch up with Seven and Chakotay or to find out what had convinced them to join the fleet. And he really was anxious to see Miral. Harry had wept openly the first time he’d held her in his arms the day she was born, and begun to spin a future in which he would be the cool uncle who she could always turn to when her parents just didn’t understand. The thought of B’Elanna’s death had been painful, but the thought of Miral’s had been something beyond pain. It had been entirely unacceptable.
But Harry knew himself well enough to admit that he would never have made it through dinner without betraying his anger and confusion. His mind understood, but his heart remained completely irrational on the subject. He couldn’t shake the thought that somewhere along the line, Tom had begun to define friendship differently from him. As much as he wanted to for B’Elanna and Miral’s sake, he didn’t think he could play the part that would be expected of him.
He stared again at his salmon. He was hungry. And the thought of taking a bite turned his stomach.
“Lieutenant Kim?” a voice interrupted his thoughts.
Looking up he saw Nancy Conlon standing beside the empty chair opposite him. The rest of the mess was all but deserted. Harry hadn’t gotten t
o know Nancy that well. He had held two tactical drills during which her engineers had performed like engineers, more concerned with their engines and ship’s weapons than their own safety. When he’d pointed out to Conlon where improvement was needed, she’d cheerfully agreed and promised to add it to her list of things to do. And she’d said it all with a smile you didn’t notice amid her otherwise rather plain features. Conlon wore her dark brown hair in a tight ponytail. When he looked at her, she was all big brown eyes with nothing to soften or frame them. And she had retained her Academy figure, though maybe she was just naturally petite.
“Lieutenant Kim?” she said again, a little more forcefully, pulling Harry into the present.
“Sorry,” Harry replied automatically. “What can I do for you, Lieutenant?”
“Is this seat taken?”
“Go ahead,” Harry replied.
After a brief, uncomfortable silence she asked, “Something wrong with your salmon?”
“No,” he said, shoving the plate a few inches away. “I’m just not all that hungry.”
“Okay.”
After another short pause, Harry wondered if he was being rude.
“Help yourself, if you like,” he offered.
“Why not,” Conlon replied, reaching for the plate and his fork. After a few hearty mouthfuls she added, “Thanks.”
“No problem,” Harry said, moving to rise from his seat.
“Hang on,” she said between bites, thrusting a padd across the table at him. “I didn’t just come looking for you because I was hungry. Wait, that didn’t come out right. I didn’t know …” she said, flustered.
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