Star Trek: Voyager - 042 - Protectors

by Kirsten Beyer

  Her final dinner with Gretchen should have been a solemn affair—it wasn’t. Both women were determined to make the most of every moment they’d been given, and they did so. Curling up before the fire in the living room after a light meal, while the dinner plates sat unwashed, they discussed frankly Janeway’s hopes and fears for the future.

  Gretchen had been pleased to learn of her deepening relationship with Chakotay and asked that she pass along her regards and an invitation to visit. Her mother had promised to keep tabs on Julia Paris. Though she did not know Julia well, Gretchen understood that she was commanded now by her pain rather than her mind. Gretchen also insisted that if the Paris family or Seven should require a place to stay when they returned to Earth, they contact her. Starfleet would offer them accommodations, but Gretchen could give them a home.

  Their final embrace and parting words were filled with love and hope. The years that were about to separate them held no fear. Gretchen sent her daughter off, as she always had, with pride.

  SAN FRANCISCO

  When Janeway arrived that evening on the grounds of Starfleet Academy, she was directed to a private lounge to wait for the arrival of the cadets she had asked to see. They arrived within five minutes—both in uniform—entered the lounge, and stood at attention.

  “Cadet Icheb, Cadet Wildman,” she greeted them formally.

  “Admiral,” they replied in unison.

  “At ease,” she ordered.

  Only now did wide smiles spread across both their faces. Naomi’s was particularly vibrant.

  “Come here, you two,” Janeway said, opening her arms. Naomi Wildman beat Icheb there by a few paces and hugged her fiercely. Janeway returned the embrace with equal strength. Icheb settled for extending his hand and Janeway took it in both of hers, saying, “You’re looking well.”

  “I am well, thank you, Admiral,” Icheb said.

  “I assume your studies are proceeding apace?”

  “They are.”

  “Have you by any chance received your internship assignment for the coming semester?” she asked.

  Icheb nodded. “I have. But I was considering speaking to my advisor about altering it. I was assigned to Starfleet Medical Research. I do not intend to pursue medical studies. I thought it might be a mistake.”

  “It wasn’t,” Janeway assured him. “I made the request, and I would consider it a personal favor if you would accept it.”

  “Of course,” Icheb said. “Had I known, I wouldn’t have questioned it.”

  “I’m leaving tomorrow to head back to the Delta Quadrant. Seven will likely be returning to Earth and will be working with Starfleet Medical for what I hope will be a brief time. I want you nearby, just in case.”

  “If there is anything you or she requires, please advise me. I will always comply.”

  “I know,” Janeway said. “You’re dismissed, Cadet. I need to speak with Cadet Wildman alone.”

  “Safe journey, Admiral,” Icheb said, then turned to go with a smile and a wink at Naomi.

  As soon as they were alone, Naomi seemed to withdraw a little, as if embarrassed by her earlier enthusiasm. Placing an arm around her shoulder, Janeway said, “Would you like to take a walk, Naomi?”

  “Yes, Admiral,” she said.

  The Academy grounds at night were as lovely as Janeway remembered. She wondered who was responsible for them, as Boothby must be retired by now.

  “Icheb told me as soon as he got back that you were alive,” Naomi offered. “I couldn’t believe it, but I knew he would never lie about something like that.”

  “There have been days I didn’t believe it either,” Janeway said.

  “Did it hurt to be dead?” Naomi asked. It was an innocent, almost childlike question, but Janeway understood what she was really asking.

  “No,” she said. “But to be honest, I was never really dead. Not all of me. Or I couldn’t be here now.”

  “Icheb said Q brought you back.”

  “Q saved all that was left of me after I was assimilated—in that way, Icheb was right.”

  “I’m so glad he did,” Naomi said, looking up. “It was harder to live in the universe without you. It didn’t seem like near as nice a place.”

  Janeway pulled Naomi closer, saying, “I’m glad, too.”

  “Thank you for forwarding Neelix’s letters,” Naomi added as they ambled down a manicured path edged with low-trimmed hedges toward the gardens.

  “Have you prepared a response for him?” Janeway asked.

  “Oh, yes,” Naomi replied. “I intended to send them out through Pathfinder.”

  “In the future, you should contact a Lieutenant Varia at Pathfinder directly. I will personally take any letters you have ready to send now.”

  “Thank you so much,” Naomi said and smiled.

  “Icheb mentioned to me that you’d had a bit of a rough start here,” Janeway said gently.

  Naomi nodded.

  “Is it getting better?”

  Naomi shrugged. “Not really.”

  Janeway paused, knowing the impact her words had always had on this young girl and mindful that she must tread carefully.

  “Naomi, why did you apply so early to the Academy?”

  She paused in her steps. “I didn’t think I had a choice. I had completed my secondary studies, and given that I always intended to enter the Academy, all of my advisers felt I should apply at once. I think maybe they thought I’d have a hard time getting in because I’m young.”

  “Apparently they were wrong,” Janeway observed wryly.

  “Yep. My mom applied twice before she got in. My dad took three tries. They couldn’t believe it when I was accepted right away. But they were so excited.”

  “I know your unique physiology means that you mature faster than human children do. I have watched you for most of your life, amazed at your quick mind and determination to take on responsibilities far beyond most of your years,” Janeway said. “But you don’t have to be in such a rush to grow up. You always have choices.”

  “Starfleet is all I know,” Naomi said.

  Janeway paused and turned to face her, placing her hands on Naomi’s shoulders. “I know,” she said. “As someone who spent her youth dreaming of a life among the stars and then living that dream, I would never suggest that it is not a challenging and wondrous path to walk. But you’ve had a lot to absorb over the last few years. Your first home was Voyager. As soon as we got back there was your family, your father, new schools, new friends. It’s a lot to handle for someone twice your age. And were it not for your Ktarian heritage, you would have had several more years to get comfortable with all of that change before starting at the Academy.”

  Naomi’s face darkened a little as she pondered these words.

  “I’m not saying you don’t belong here, Naomi,” Janeway continued. “Maybe you aren’t happy here right now because the first year is hard for everyone, and life at the Academy is incredibly demanding. Or maybe you’re not happy because you haven’t given yourself permission to imagine that you could be doing anything else right now,” she suggested gently.

  “Like what?” Naomi asked.

  “I don’t know,” Janeway admitted, “but the world, the galaxy, the universe, is really big and filled with interesting people doing amazing things. And not all of those people wear a uniform.” She smiled.

  “I don’t want to give up just because it’s hard,” Naomi said. “If you had given up while we were still in the Delta Quadrant, I might never have had this chance. I might never have known my father.”

  “Making a different choice isn’t the same thing as giving up,” Janeway said. “Sometimes we’re not happy because we aren’t living up to our own expectations. But sometimes we’re not happy because we’re asking the wrong things of ourselves. Part of growing up is learning to tell the difference between the two. I don’t ever want to see you run away from anything. But running toward something else is different. You’ll still be eligible to enter
the Academy for the next several years. If you decide to commit yourself to this life, you will find it difficult. But you need to know before you do that Starfleet is the only path you want to walk. I’m not sure what takes more courage: forcing yourself to do this now, or allowing yourself to imagine a different life that might make you even happier.”

  “Then you don’t think I should stay?” Naomi asked.

  “I think you should do what you want,” Janeway replied with emphasis. “And more than anything, you should know that whatever path you choose to follow in your life, I will be watching with great pride. You don’t have to be a member of Starfleet to have my love and respect, or your parents’. You had our love from the day you were born and earned our respect every day thereafter. Both will always be yours.”

  Naomi nodded. “Thank you,” she said with a faint smile.

  “You’re welcome,” Janeway said.

  After a long pause, Naomi asked, “Is Seven going to be okay? Do you think I could see her when she comes home?”

  “I don’t know if that will be possible,” Janeway said honestly. “But she will be fine. I promise.”

  Naomi nodded, but her face was dark again. “I hope so,” she said softly.

  So do I, Janeway added to herself.

  VESTA

  When Vice Admiral Kathryn Janeway materialized on the Vesta’s main transporter pad, Decan was waiting for her.

  “Good morning, Admiral,” he said.

  “Lieutenant.” She nodded crisply.

  “All of your personal effects have been transferred to your quarters. Captain Farkas . . .” he began, but was interrupted by the entrance of the captain through the doors behind him.

  “Admiral on deck,” Farkas announced formally. At once, she, Decan, and the transport operator shot to attention.

  “Good morning, Captain,” Janeway said. “At ease.” Though she appreciated the protocol, she wondered if Farkas was trying to impress her or establish her territory as soon as possible.

  Separating her feet to formal “ease,” Farkas said, “We are prepared to launch on your order, Admiral.”

  Janeway dismissed Decan with a nod, stepped close to Farkas, and said, “Are you ready?”

  Smiling faintly, Farkas replied, “Always. There’s an officer from Galen waiting in your office, and he is refusing to report back to his ship until he speaks with you, personally.”

  “The Doctor?” Janeway guessed.

  “Lieutenant Reginald Barclay,” Farkas said.

  Puzzled, Janeway said, “Would you be so kind as to accompany me there?”

  “Of course, Admiral,” Farkas said.

  Once they were en route, Janeway said, “I wish to address the crew formally, but it can wait until we’re under way.”

  “Once we launch we’re twenty-two hours from the first relay stations that have been damaged,” Farkas advised.

  “Noted,” Janeway said.

  Pausing, Farkas said, “Permission to speak freely.”

  Pleased that these words from Farkas no longer chilled her, Janeway replied, “You never need to ask, Captain. I know you still have your doubts about my posting, but in time . . .”

  Farkas waved a hand. “I was spoiled rotten in the Delta Quadrant,” she said. “Batiste was a cipher, but Captain Eden was a good fleet commander. Ten minutes in the company of Admiral Verdell reminded me how rare those are. I was too hard on you, Admiral. I was in pain; assigning blame was comforting. It was also too easy. I was using you so I could avoid looking at myself. Montgomery was using both of us and hoping to play us against each other. My anger was convenient for him. When I finally understood that he was just trying to cover his own ass I formally withdrew my objections. I hope you will accept my apology for unkind words spoken in anger.”

  “Of course,” Janeway said. “But I am curious.”

  “About what?”

  “What made you realize what Montgomery was up to?”

  “This ship,” Farkas said honestly. “He should have thought of the Vesta long before you did. And a little wise counsel,” she added.

  “From whom?”

  “Our CMO, Doctor El’nor Sal, is one of my oldest friends. She nearly slapped me silly when I told her about our first conversation. She reminded me that it was easier to judge than be judged and that if I thought Ken Montgomery was my friend, I needed a full psych workup. And then she suggested I read your record from the beginning. You don’t do anything the easy way, do you?”

  “No,” Janeway agreed. “Just the best way I know how.”

  As they reached the doors to her new office, Farkas said, “I’ll be on the bridge if you need me.”

  “Launch as soon as possible,” Janeway said. “We have a lot of work to do.”

  “Finally,” Farkas chuckled.

  Lieutenant Reginald Barclay sprung to his feet when Admiral Janeway entered.

  “It’s good to see you, Reg,” she said immediately. “I know you wanted to speak to me about something at the memorial and I brushed you off. I’m sorry. It did not reflect my general opinion of you or the seriousness with which I take your concerns.”

  “I know that, Admiral,” he said.

  “Sorry it has taken me so long to rectify that.”

  “Please don’t give it another thought, Admiral,” he said seriously. “You never need to explain yourself to me.”

  Janeway nodded graciously and moved to sit at her desk, gesturing for Barclay to take one of the seats opposite.

  “I came because, well, first . . .” he began, hesitating as he clearly tried to order his unruly thoughts.

  “Captain Chakotay advised me that you remain concerned about locating the hologram known as Meegan,” Janeway offered.

  “I do, but . . . well, yes, I do, Admiral,” Barclay said, sensing an opportunity. “She is the most advanced hologram ever designed, and I’m not bragging when I say that.”

  “You created her with Doctor Zimmerman, correct?” Janeway asked.

  “Yes, Admiral.”

  “Then she must be.”

  “There were, originally, eight Neyser entities stored as pure consciousness,” Barclay continued. “One of them claimed Meegan, and she took the other seven with her when she made her escape. The shuttle she stole was retrieved by Ambassador Neelix. She replaced it with a mining vessel. I believe she chose that vessel because she intended to bury the other seven entities within the asteroid field around New Talax so that she could retrieve them later. Galen initiated a sensor sweep of the field before we departed. Voyager was to complete it after we left. I am eager to review their findings.”

  “I will see to it that those reports are forwarded to you as soon as we reach the relays,” Janeway replied. “Finding Meegan will be a priority for me. I understand that you feel responsible for her, more so because you did not advise anyone before she left of her unique capabilities as a hologram. I appreciate any assistance you can provide in locating her, but the responsibility for that is not yours. It is now mine.”

  “Thank you, Admiral,” Barclay said, nodding vigorously.

  “We are getting under way, so if there’s nothing else,” Janeway said.

  “Actually,” Barclay said, rising to hand her a padd, “there is. This is what I came to show you, though I appreciate your consideration of the Meegan problem.”

  Janeway took the padd from him. “What is this?”

  “The Doctor indicated that you wanted me to run a full diagnostic of his program. He is functioning within normal parameters, but the scan revealed the presence of a coded file I was unable to access.”

  “Unable?”

  “It was encrypted. I could have broken it, but I chose not to. I have already trespassed on the Doctor’s privacy, and I don’t want to do so again.”

  “How are we going to figure out what the file contains?”

  “It was specifically coded to be opened by your authorization only,” Barclay said. “It was created one week after your encounter with the
Omega Continuum, just after Voyager’s arrival at New Talax.”

  “Thank you, Reg.”

  When Barclay had reached the door he added, “Admiral, unless there’s something in there that could do serious harm to the Doctor, I don’t want to know about it.”

  “I understand,” Janeway said. “You should consider the matter closed unless I have no choice but to ask you for further assistance.”

  “Thank you, Admiral.”

  Curious, but mindful of her priorities, Janeway contacted the bridge and ordered Farkas to launch as soon as Barclay was back on Galen. She had intended to watch the launch from the bridge but chose to remain in her office and study the file that had been designated for her eyes only.

  It was a recorded message, but not from the Doctor. It was from his creator, Lewis Zimmerman. It was to advise Janeway of an alteration to the Doctor’s program that Zimmerman had recently made at the Doctor’s request. While the rest of the fleet’s crew had gathered for the memorial service at New Talax, the Doctor had taken the opportunity to speak with his creator, and the alteration had been uploaded within a few hours.

  The first time she listened to the message, its contents struck her with the force of a physical blow. The second time, she was able to find a few shreds of approbation for Zimmerman’s actions. The odd comments the Doctor had made that had predicated her request for the diagnostic now made sense. It was also clear that he could continue to perform his duties despite the alteration. What was difficult to accept was the fact that the alteration was permanent, or it sounded like it would be so risky to undo that it might as well be.

  It took Janeway several minutes to collect herself after closing the file. It took her several days to decide what to do with the information Zimmerman had provided to her.