Almost.
“I’m sorry, Seven,” Eden said, “but it’s hard for me to believe that what you’re suggesting is even possible.”
“I’ve experienced stranger things, Captain,” Chakotay interjected. “And I’m willing to bet you have, too.”
Eden cast a troubled glance outside the windows of her ready room. Sighing deeply, she chose her words carefully. “The Indign sent a messenger to us. You were there, Seven. If your assumption is true, couldn’t they just have used you to facilitate communication?”
Seven paused to formulate her response. She realized she was running the risk of appearing dismissive and irrational and tempered her words accordingly. “I do not believe that the same individuals responsible for sending the consciousness that briefly assumed Ensign McDonnell’s body to us are the ones who are trying to communicate directly with me.”
“But you said that the consciousness that instructed you to open the canister also used your catoms.”
“Yes, I did,” Seven agreed.
“Why do you assume that you are now dealing with a different individual or group of individuals?”
Seven replied evenly. “The consciousness within the canister spoke directly in my mind. I heard its words and felt its need. The knowledge required to free it came to me directly, almost as if it were controlling my actions. The second communication was free of an emotional connection. There were no words, but rather just images. Those images were distressing. It was like sharing a memory—not at all like the violating presence I experienced in sickbay.”
“And how can you be certain that this second communication originated on the fourth planet?”
“The most distinct image that I remember was of a village. Crude tents and small stone structures were organized around a central clearing containing a well and communal fire pits. There is nothing like this to be found on the third planet. The fourth one—the one we believe to be the Neyser breeding and retirement ground—contains a number of these settlements. Many of the Neyser on the fourth planet live in cities, but a few live on a remote continent and have maintained a rustic existence. I cannot tell you to a certainty that this was the origin of the communication, but it is an educated guess.”
Eden ran her hand over her short, black hair, massaging her scalp as she considered Seven’s words.
“A guess, Seven? They asked us to leave their system. You want me to violate the Prime Directive on a guess? First the admiral, now this,” she mused, shaking her head.
“Excuse me, Captain,” Chakotay said. “The admiral?”
The look on the captain’s face suggested she wished she hadn’t let that particular fact slip.
“He believes that unless we provide the Indign with further information about the Borg, including their transformation by the Caeliar, we are damning other sentient beings to being captured and killed for Indign offerings.”
“Admiral Batiste is correct, Captain,” Seven was quick to note.
Eden’s eyes flared. “In what respect?”
“We should reveal to the Indign the true nature of the Borg.”
“I understand why you feel that way, but it’s also a Prime Directive issue, Seven,” Chakotay advised her.
Seven noted the surprise on Eden’s face at Chakotay’s words.
“It is,” Eden agreed. “I hope the Indign will realize in their own time that there is no need to make further offerings to the Borg. But we cannot corrupt their cultural development by—”
“By telling them the truth?” Seven said with obvious heat.
“It’s not that simple,” Chakotay said in a clear attempt to mollify her. “We could share with them the fact that the Borg no longer exist. But once you pull that tiny thread, the rest of the fabric begins to unravel. We cannot provide them with proof of our assertions. We cannot give them classified details about the Federation’s role in the matter. It’s not really a question of telling them the truth. It’s how much truth should we tell, and guessing what their likely responses will be.”
“The Indign pose no tactical threat to our vessels.”
“Not one at a time,” Eden agreed, “but their fleet is quite large and I really don’t want them chasing us all over the Delta quadrant seeking revenge.”
Seven swallowed her frustration.
The door chimed.
“Enter,” Eden commanded.
Counselor Cambridge crossed in a few long, loping strides to stand at the railing that separated Eden’s desk from her more casual conference area.
“Sorry to be late,” he said. “Either Conlon’s got it in for me, or the turbolifts on my deck are lower on her priority list than they should be. It doesn’t matter. How soon before we depart on our little mission to the fourth planet?” he asked cheerfully.
“You’ve already been briefed on Seven’s request?” Eden asked.
“I have.” Cambridge nodded. “Seven, Chakotay, and the Doctor have concluded that this matter should be investigated further. I was with another patient, or I would have been here sooner to add my support. I assumed you would have granted your blessing long before now, Captain.”
“Then you assumed wrong,” Eden replied.
Cambridge raised a quizzical eyebrow, but said nothing further.
“The Indign have asked us to leave their system,” Eden said.
Cambridge looked puzzled.
“ That’s the problem?” he finally asked.
“Yes, Hugh,” Eden replied. “That’s the problem.”
“But that’s ridiculous,” he said with a shrug.
Chakotay dropped his head forward to hide his smirk.
“Counselor …”
“No,” Cambridge said firmly. “Never in all of my years of anthropological, sociological, and psychological study have I come across anything like the Indign. We’re supposed to be damned explorers. Why are we here if not to explore this exact sort of culture?”
“Were you absent the day at the Academy when they explained the Prime Directive?” Eden countered.
“No. The vision provided to Seven could easily be construed as an invitation, which makes the Prime Directive irrelevant. We leave the third planet alone. But a call for help from the fourth planet? A planet we know to be inhabited by a warp-capable species? How can we ignore that?”
“I do not believe we can,” Seven said with a nod.
Eden turned to Chakotay, obviously hoping to find backup. His face was calm and his thoughts were his own.
“That’s quite an assumption, Hugh,” Eden finally said.
“Not necessarily,” Chakotay said, before Cambridge could respond.
“Et tu?” Eden asked in mock annoyance.
“We have to consider the possibility that the Indign who was sent to speak to us did not necessarily represent the wishes of all Indign,” Chakotay offered.
“You think they lied to us?” Eden demanded.
“Wouldn’t you in their place?” Cambridge shot back. “A heavily armed group of ships arrives in your space, you tell them whatever you must to make them go away. Fortunately for them, we are respectful and accommodating enough to take them at face value.”
The look on Eden’s face said clearly that she hadn’t considered this possibility.
“Damn,” she finally said softly.
There was a tense pause as everyone waited for the captain to render final judgment.
“All right,” she finally said. “We’re going to do this. But we’re going to do it quietly. Under no circumstances, Seven—should you succeed in making contact with those on the fourth planet who initiated communication—are you allowed to disclose what we know about the Borg or Caeliar.”
“Aye, Captain.”
As Seven and Chakotay rose to leave, Eden said, “Counselor, a word.”
“Something on your mind, Captain?” he asked immediately.
Years ago Eden had learned to rely on Cambridge’s frank and uncensored opinions. “I want you to keep a close eye on Seven
and Chakotay during the mission. At no time are you to leave either of them alone.”
Hugh seemed equal parts intrigued and surprised. “Do you have a specific concern, Afsarah?”
“None that I’m going to share with you right now. Suffice it to say that I am concerned, especially in light of recent events.”
“You’re talking about the series of ship malfunctions?” he surmised.
Eden nodded.
“I will, of course, do as you have asked,” Cambridge replied, with a deep sigh. “It is my belief that your suspicions are unwarranted. If I’ve misjudged their actions, motivations, or general character … well, all I can say is, it’s probably time for you to find a new counselor.”
“Be that as it may …”
Cambridge raised his right hand in a mock salute. “Aye, aye, Captain.”
As he left, Eden returned to her desk to reread Paris’s and Kim’s reports. The list of those who possessed the skills necessary to have sabotaged the power distribution system was lengthy. It included all of her senior staff, and Seven, B’Elanna, and Chakotay. Every crew member who had been aboard Voyager during its time in the Delta quadrant was listed as having substantive connections to Species 8472— although Chakotay’s name was at the top.
You accepted the big chair, Afsarah, she reminded herself.
She would wait. She would thoroughly review all the information again once she had received Conlon’s final report. Eden knew having Chakotay aboard Voyager was a questionable call. Throwing him in the brig without proof …
Let me be wrong .
“Computer, raise lights,” Batiste called as he entered his cabin.
Two things registered simultaneously as he walked gingerly toward his desk, allowing his eyes time to adapt to the change in illumination: the hiss of his cabin doors closing behind him, and a cool tingling sensation on his neck.
Before he had time to connect these sensations, he found himself unable to move. He was stuck mid-stride as the coolness on his neck immediately spread throughout his body, rendering his trunk and limbs frozen chunks of lead.
“Computer, dim lights,” a voice Batiste did not recognize said softly.
He attempted to shout for security, but he could not make a sound and his lips remained still despite vigorous efforts to free them from the paralysis engulfing his body.
“We need to talk, Admiral,” the voice went on.
About what? Willem thought.
“About our mutual problem,” the voice replied.
Willem suddenly realized that this situation had just become significantly more dangerous than he had yet imagined. If whomever had attacked him could also read his thoughts …
“Of course I can,” the voice replied with a tinge of amusement. “Now calm down, and listen. I know who you are and I know what you want. The good news is, I want the same thing, in a manner of speaking. I believe that if we work together we can solve two problems at once.”
Rot in hell, Willem thought angrily.
A light, tinkling laughter chilled him further.
“I already have, for thousands of years. I don’t recommend it.” After a short pause, the voice went on, “But if that’s your preference, it can surely be arranged.”
It was nearly noon, local time, when Seven, Chakotay, and Cambridge transported to the outskirts of one of the larger Neyser settlements on the fourth planet.
Time was of the essence. They had made the trip in one of Voyager’s shuttles which was now parked in orbit over the north polar region, its transporter locked on their combadges. Their entry and exit strategy was designed to bring as little attention as possible to the away team.
Not daring to use sensors, and knowing that the clock was ticking, they began their search of the colony. Several hundred elderly Neyser were clustered in a small encampment. Some were roasting animal flesh over communal fires. Others were beating dust from densely woven fabrics hung between posts near the central well. A neatly tended herb garden was planted nearby. Several of the humanoids strolled lazily down dirt paths.
Apart from the crackle of the fires and the scuffle of feet across the dirt, the settlement was shrouded in silence. Seven and Cambridge noted the strangeness of seeing individual Neyser. They appeared diminished, almost naked, without their fellow species, and their movements and behavior lacked the streamlined precision of the cooperative Indign. The community appeared both peaceful and prosperous. The silence confirmed that the Neyser were either stubbornly silent, or communicating telepathically.
The team collected themselves on a small, rocky ridge that formed the southern boundary of the colony. Seven disengaged her neural inhibitor and waited for another communication.
Nothing.
Frustrated, she finally reengaged the device.
Undeterred, the group had remotely triggered the shuttle’s transporter and moved on to their next target. They also studied three smaller communities without finding any substantive revelations.
Finally, they reached their last stop—the smallest and oldest Neyser colony. Here, only a dozen small, well-worn stone huts were in evidence. Unlike the other communities, this one featured an intricately paved central square and hand-painted carvings adorned the stone well.
It was twilight. The huts lay in darkness, and the tricorders detected no life signs. Previous scans had indicated that this colony was inhabited by at least two dozen Neyser. Chakotay led them forward quietly to the central square and studied his readings in dismay.
“This colony has been here for at least two thousand years,” Cambridge reported softly. “The others we observed today were between five and seven hundred years old.”
There was something about this place that set Chakotay’s nerves on edge. He reset his tricorder to scan for organic remains and found that the ground beneath their feet was rich with them.
“I’m not sure that anyone has lived here for a long time,” he observed. “I believe this is a burial ground of some kind.”
Seven had begun to wander through the cluster of small buildings. Her tricorder sounded with a loud chirp that shot up Chakotay’s spine as it broke the stillness around them.
“Why do I feel like we shouldn’t be here?” he asked Cambridge.
“Because you believe that spirits don’t like to have their resting places disturbed,” the counselor replied as he continued to scan the carved stones. “It’s quaint, though terribly unlikely.”
“You don’t believe in spirits?”
“I don’t believe they give a damn what we do with their bodies once they no longer have a use for them.”
“Remind me to tell you one of these days—” Chakotay began, but was distracted by an urgent whisper from Seven.
She stood at the entrance of one of the huts and was gesturing for them to join her.
“What is it?” Chakotay asked softly as they approached.
“Look,” Seven said, directing their eyes to the darkness within where her palm beacon revealed the body of a Neyser crumpled unceremoniously on the dirt floor.
These were definitely remains, but they were much fresher than any Chakotay had believed they would find.
Cambridge hurried to the body and gently turned it onto its back. His tricorder revealed what his eyes could barely see. “This woman was murdered, in the last several hours if I’m not mistaken.”
“How did she die?” Chakotay asked.
“Compression rifle, Starfleet issue.”
Together, they examined the rest of the buildings. Twelve more bodies were found. All of them had been advanced in age, and most were asleep on mounds of animal skins when they were killed.
“What the hell happened here?” Cambridge demanded as they returned to the center square.
“I don’t know, yet, but we’re not going anywhere until we find out,” Chakotay replied.
“Chakotay,” Seven said, passing her tricorder to him to examine.
“Life signs, faint,” Chakotay replied. “This way.”<
br />
They headed down a cobbled path that appeared to end at a mound of stones arranged atop a low hill. Several of the stones showed signs of recent collapse.
“Help me,” Chakotay urged, as he knelt and gently began to move the stones. Soon enough, a small opening was revealed and a flight of dirt stairs led into the darkness below.
“Not exactly inviting,” Cambridge mused as he played his palm beacon into the abyss.
“We have to check it out,” Chakotay advised him.
“Of course we do. We’re Starfleet. Never a dark, spooky cavern left unexplored, right?”
Seven began to descend into the darkness. Chakotay and Cambridge followed. Fifteen meters in they came to an open space.
“Catacombs,” Chakotay said softly as he studied the small alcoves littered with bones and decomposed cloth.
“This way,” Seven commanded, heading farther into the bowels of the graveyard. “The life signs are growing stronger.”
The single path sloped gently downward and as they went deeper they discovered hundreds of remains entombed in the walls. The deeper they went, the colder it became, and the skeletal debris was little more than dust when they finally reached a small chamber.
There they discovered a single Neyser, its back against a small wall, struggling for breath as it clutched a gaping wound in its abdomen. Cambridge was instantly by its side, and after a quick scan said compassionately, “There, there. Let’s make you a little more comfortable.”
Placing his hand around the being’s neck he gently lowered it into a recumbent position. As he did so, the creature let out a plaintive shriek.
Cambridge then tapped his combadge but received no response from the shuttle’s transporter .
“Damn it,” he cursed.
“The signal won’t reach through the rocks,” Chakotay advised. “We need to move her to the surface. We can transport her from there.”
“She’ll never survive the trip,” Cambridge warned.
“So we do nothing?” Chakotay demanded in frustration.
“No,” Seven said as she knelt beside the figure and took a deep breath. “We do what we came here to do,” she added as she disengaged her inhibitor. She immediately grabbed the sides of her face in pain, and Chakotay hurried to Seven’s side. She turned wide, terrified eyes on him, but as he reached for her neck to reengage the device she stopped him, clasping his hands tightly in hers.
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