Janeway knew she shared this trait, but she had been struck this night by Phoebe’s audacity. Still, she knew that she could not avoid the mirror forever. What gave her the right to decide who should live or die? The pips on her collar? They were mere symbols, meant to demonstrate the experience she had gained and the trust her superiors placed in her. They conveyed power to those who wore them, but not necessarily character. Janeway had never doubted her ability to trust herself. Now it seemed everywhere she turned, she was surrounded by people who did not trust her, and it was becoming more and more difficult not to allow their misgivings to be added to her own.
The admiral paused as she walked into a large pool of light cast from a lamp above. To her right was a small bench. The brisk walk had warmed her, and the paths around her were all but deserted. Settling herself, she took the padd and placed it on her lap to read. It was a transmission from Titan. She anxiously opened the letter.
Admiral Janeway:
I am writing to you on behalf of my husband, Tuvok. I know he has not yet responded to your message, and while I understand his reticence, I also believe you should not be forced to interpret his silence in the absence of data.
My husband and I are now living aboard the Federation Starship Titan. Tuvok continues to perform his duties conscientiously and to the best of his abilities. We were on Titan when we learned of your death. It was a particularly difficult loss for Tuvok to endure, but his deep and abiding respect for you was a source of strength.
Our son, Elieth, and his wife, Ione Kitain, were both killed when Deneva was destroyed by the Borg. Tuvok had not been able to see Elieth or meet his wife prior to their deaths. Their loss, coupled with the intense stresses shared by all who witnessed the assault of the Borg, has left my husband struggling to assert the imperatives of logic over his emotional responses. His discipline is formidable, and I do not doubt that in time, he will again master them. Indeed, he works tirelessly toward this end.
My husband believes it would be unwise to speak with you at this time. I will not question the wisdom of his choice. I can only assume that to do so might make his efforts more difficult. I am certain eventually he will wish to express appropriate sentiments regarding your return. It is to Starfleet’s benefit that your death was presumed in error. Until he is able to do so, on behalf of us both, I wish you peace and long life.
T’Pel
After reading it twice, Janeway set the padd beside her and inhaled deeply. She was more worried than wounded. What she read between the lines was T’Pel’s concern for Tuvok’s emotional well-being. For Tuvok’s pain and ongoing struggle to warrant his wife’s response on his behalf, Janeway could only assume that whatever pleasure Tuvok might have experienced in learning of her return had been mitigated by much darker unresolved issues regarding his son and daughter-in-law’s deaths.
Janeway did not see Tuvok’s actions as a sign of diminished affection on his part. Had he cared less, it would have been no trouble for him to respond cordially and positively to her message. But he could not reach beyond his pain at this time to offer Janeway any relief of her own. That Tuvok had apparently lost this much of himself was terrifying to contemplate.
She could hear the accusations now. Why had she been spared? Billions had died, but she alone merited some special consideration on the part of the universe? Her death would have been difficult to accept, but death was part of the natural order of things. Her return defied logic.
Shaking these haunting thoughts aside, she rose. A chill had entered her bones as she sat, and she looked around for a source of warmth. Turning, Janeway found herself at the gates of a large park. Passing through the stone archway, she realized at once where she was and wondered if subconsciously she had intended to come here all along.
Federation Park was a vast plain of manicured grass sloping down toward the San Francisco Bay. Spaced throughout were monuments of assorted shapes and sizes, tributes to Starfleet personnel lost in the line of duty. To her right, in the distance, a white sphere blazed. It was the memorial that had been raised to the fallen of the Full Circle fleet.
Unconsciously, Janeway turned to her left and began to walk among the stones, putting as much distance as possible between herself and the blazing reminder of the cost of her choices.
She wandered aimlessly for a time, content to allow the peace of the park to seep into her bones. She stopped short when she saw, several meters ahead, a large pillar topped by an eternal flame. Their second night together, in some detail, Chakotay had described her memorial service and the monument erected in her honor. He had spoken of a long night spent there and the choice he had made to leave Starfleet.
It was impossible for her to avoid the structure’s magnetic properties. Her feet moved toward it as Janeway wondered idly why it had not been removed. She didn’t know the protocol, but she was determined to rectify the situation as soon as possible.
Up close, the masonry was imposing. She passed over the plaque embedded near the base. It was odd to see her name there, and it sent spiders of ice running up and down her spine.
Here, not that long ago, her lover, partner, and dearest friend had found solace and direction. He had moved beyond personal concerns and emotional demands and chosen a new path. That choice had ultimately led Chakotay back to his place in command of the crew she would always think of as theirs. Janeway wondered if the tall, cold stone would have similar inspiration to offer her.
Curious, she bent low and began to poke at the ground at the pillar’s base. It took a little doing, but soon enough, her fingers touched cold metal. Moments later, she unearthed the combadge and pips Chakotay told her he had buried there.
Janeway was not in uniform. She had changed into a casual shirt and pants for dinner at home. Even if she were, she knew at this moment, she would not have placed her own symbols of command beside Chakotay’s. Her desire to be of service to Starfleet had not diminished. All she had suffered, lost, and endured over what felt like only a month had left her disconnected, a stranger to herself in many ways. But that one definition remained basic and true.
Less clear was how she could be of service. And try as they might, none of those around her now could help her see that path clearly. Her blood relations were on Earth, but as she gently rubbed the dirt from Chakotay’s badge and pips, she knew that her family was thousands of light-years away.
Heavens knew that none of her fellow officers at Command, or the well-meaning Counselor Jens, could offer helpful advice. They could imagine her challenges, but they could never truly understand them.
Suddenly Janeway knew what she needed. So alarming was the insight, she laughed involuntarily.
She needed to speak to someone who had walked the same path. Thankfully, his current mission was relatively close to Earth.
The matter settled, Admiral Janeway hurried from the park. First thing in the morning, she would sign out a shuttle and set course to Enterprise.
Chapter Nine
VOYAGER
“There, there, and there,” Commander O’Donnell said, pointing out the visible discrepancies between the wave form that had destroyed Voyager’s probe and the two that had emerged later. The shift in frequency was subtle and within the sensor’s miniscule error margin, but Chakotay had to admit that they were present. Believing that O’Donnell had not personally followed the interaction, Chakotay had been surprised by the thoroughness of his understanding of the wave forms and the intuitive leaps he had made regarding them.
Liam O’Donnell was not to be underestimated.
Chakotay looked to Kim and Seven expecting to see skepticism. Instead, both appeared intrigued. To his left, Lieutenant Patel and Doctor Sharak conferred quietly as they studied the image Commander O’Donnell had brought up on the conference room’s three-dimensional display.
“Computer, display image O’Donnell six alpha,” the commander ordered, and the frequency display was replaced by a magnified projection of the center mass of the two wave forms.
Here, the differences were more striking. The wave form that had crushed the probe emitted powerful visible fields, streaks of energy radiating from its outer edge toward its center. The second wave forms did not.
“Despite its appearance, Commander,” Seven said, “the second wave forms were capable of emitting high frequency EM discharges. The fact that they had not yet done so when these images were captured does not necessarily indicate passive intentions on its part.”
“But now, we’ll never know, will we?” O’Donnell asked.
After a moment Kim shook his head. “Even without the energy discharges, this wave form was more than capable of surrounding our ship, penetrating our shields, disabling many systems, and making it impossible for us to create a warp field.”
“Yes, but Voyager survived that once, didn’t she?” O’Donnell asked. When Kim nodded, he went on. “I realize the hours you spent in the company of that distortion ring were unpleasant, but isn’t it worth it for the possibility of making contact with this thing. What if it’s a life-form?”
“It isn’t,” Patel said.
O’Donnell favored her with a withering gaze.
Doctor Sharak jumped in. “Commander, nothing in Voyager’s first encounter suggested life was present. Motion, intention, limited communication capabilities, yes, but not metabolism.”
“It’s a piece of technology, Commander,” Patel finished for him. “Very powerful technology.”
“And technology has never yet surpassed its creator’s designs and achieved sentience, has it?” O’Donnell asked rhetorically. “Oh, wait . . .” he added, tapping his palm to his forehead a little too theatrically.
“I’m less interested in its potential for sentience than its intentions toward us,” Chakotay said. “We believe the first wave form we encountered wanted help. Thus far, nothing confirms that these are the same or that they require assistance.”
“A moment, Captain,” Patel said. Turning toward O’Donnell, she asked, “Would you mind restoring the image of the frequencies?” The Demeter’s commander complied, and Patel added a third image to the display. “This is a complementary image of the distortion ring Voyager first encountered. When considered in its wave state, it is nearly identical to the two forms that approached the ship. Its particle form, however, is a little more interesting.”
“How so?” Chakotay asked.
The science officer entered commands into the data panel, the image shifted immediately to display the atomic structure of all three. Significant gaps were present in the distortion ring, but otherwise, the image was identical to that of the wave forms. “One thing we never considered about the first distortion ring was that it might have been damaged during the two hundred years it spent wandering open space. This image suggests that it was. That might also explain why its transmission was so difficult to decode. It is highly likely that the wave forms that approached our ships a few hours ago were an undamaged version of the same technology.”
“Is it likely that this is a means of communication? A transfer of data that was triggered from the first wave form once its scans of us were complete?” Chakotay asked.
“There’s no way to tell at this point,” Patel replied.
“There might be,” Kim countered.
“How?” Chakotay asked.
“When I tried to make contact with the wave form, I encrypted our hails to match the coding we received from the distortion ring,” Kim said.
“That wouldn’t have worked,” O’Donnell said.
“It didn’t.” Kim nodded. “And now I know why.”
“Enlighten us, Harry?” Chakotay asked.
“The original data we received was so corrupted that no reverse encryption I could create would have been recognized. It had already been run through several complex linguistic algorithms, and many of them would have created transcription errors when run in reverse.”
“We need to transmit the original data we received,” Chakotay said.
Kim and O’Donnell nodded simultaneously.
“We also need designations for the two distinct types of wave forms we have now discovered.” O’Donnell added, “Just to minimize any confusion going forward.”
“Let me be clear,” Chakotay said. “I will not allow Voyager or Demeter to be surrounded again by one of these wave forms, even if that is the only way to communicate with it. Voyager’s previous encounter did not result in lasting damage. But I am not convinced that would be the case now. Both of these wave forms are more powerful than the first.”
“Sentries and proctors,” Kim offered.
“One is designed to protect this region and the other to gather information,” O’Donnell interpreted.
“Scanners would be more precise than proctors,” Seven suggested.
“No,” Kim argued. “The distortion ring Voyager first encountered could have transmitted its data to us at any time while it was in contact with us. It only did so after its scans were complete.”
“It was testing you,” O’Donnell said. “The first time, you passed.”
Kim shrugged. “This time we failed.”
“Well, why don’t we see if we can improve our grade?” Chakotay asked.
Voyager had returned to its previous position bordering the cloaked area. O’Donnell kept Demeter within the proximity of the ship’s long-range sensors. If all went well, they could join Voyager within a few hours.
Lieutenant Kim had retrieved the original transmission and provided it to Lieutenant Lasren. As soon as the ship was in range, the ops officer sent out the transmission on all subspace bands.
“Transmission complete,” Lasren reported.
The bridge crew waited, tense for some sort of reply.
“Helm, prepare to go to warp if . . .” But Chakotay did not have time to finish the statement. Seconds later, the ship rocked beneath him, and multiple alarms began to sound.
“Warning, shields have been breached,” the computer advised.
“Report!” Chakotay shouted.
“It’s a proctor,” Kim advised. “It emerged from subspace directly beneath the ship and has surrounded us.”
“Lasren, give me ship-wide,” Paris requested. Off Lasren’s nod, he ordered, “This is Commander Paris to all hands. Remain exactly where you are until further advised.”
“Navigation?” Chakotay asked.
“Helm not responding,” Gwyn reported.
Silence descended around them. A faint tingling began in Chakotay’s extremities, followed by a dull roar in his head. The sensation ended so abruptly, he wondered if he had imagined it.
Seconds later, the alarms ceased.
Kim was the first to speak. “It’s gone, sir.”
“That was it?” Paris asked, both surprised and relieved.
“Our database has been uploaded,” Lasren advised.
“Did it leave any messages for us?” Chakotay asked.
“No, sir,” Lasren replied.
“I’m not so sure,” Kim interjected. “Captain?”
Chakotay’s eyes turned to the main viewscreen where it seemed as if a veil had been lifted. Suddenly, it was no longer black. The darkness had been replaced by hundreds of pinpoints of light.
“Several sections of the cloaking matrix have been disabled, Captain,” Kim reported.
“Sections?” Chakotay asked.
“I’d like to confirm with Seven and compare this to her initial navigation chart,” Gwyn said from the helm. “It looks like they’ve cleared a path for us through the field.”
Chakotay smiled. “Advise Demeter to join us, and to prepare to be scanned,” he ordered Paris. “Ask Counselor Cambridge to report to astrometrics. Lieutenant Kim, you’re with me. Mister Paris, you have the bridge.”
Counselor Hugh Cambridge hadn’t had many opportunities over the years he had served on Voyager to utilize his skills as a first-contact specialist. When Chakotay ordered him to astrometrics, he knew he’d be dusting them off, and he looked forward to it. Cambridge
was relieved that contact with the new wave form had not produced the same effects as the ship’s first encounter, though the thought of a few hours trapped in Seven’s company had its charms. She had been intently focused on her work over the past few days, and he had not pushed her to make time for more personal liaisons. They had all the time in the universe to explore one another, but to push her was to court resistance.
“Seven, Counselor,” Chakotay greeted them energetically as he entered the lab. “What do we have?”
Nodding to the large screen before them, Seven began. “Approximately thirty-point-four percent of the field has been disabled.”
“Where’s the star system you detected?” Kim asked, studying the screen.
“It does not fall within the visible area,” Seven replied. “There is, however, a vast asteroid field ahead, a section of which is now visible that we will have to navigate if we intend to follow the course provided to us.”
“You said they did not transmit any data to us?” Cambridge asked, puzzled.
“I believe their intention is clear, nonetheless,” Seven replied. “A section of space has been revealed, and it seems likely that if we follow it, we will reach the far end of this protected space.”
Star Trek: Voyager - 042 - Protectors Page 13