“Yes,” said Jarem. “He has his memories. He wants me to take them.”
“That’s exactly what you should do. Give him your memories, and take his.”
But Kaz couldn’t do it. He was afraid of having this man’s memories be uppermost in his mind. Jarem didn’t have to relive Gradak’s life—and death—in order to sense his outrage, grief, and burning need for revenge. They were written plainly on the dead man’s face. Gradak continued to hold out his hands, one holding his own memories, the other empty, ready to take Jarem’s memories.
“I don’t want them,” Kaz whispered.
“He will give them to you whether you want them or not,” came Astall’s voice. “He had been doing everything he can to give them to you through your dreams. If you willingly take on these memories, you will be in control. Otherwise, Gradak will be running the show, and he’s in too much pain to be doing that.”
Gradak was speaking again, or trying to; Jarem still couldn’t hear him. The Maquis gesticulated with the hand that held the memories.
Slowly, reluctantly, Jarem extended his hands. He saw that they trembled as his right hand closed over Gradak’s memory stone. His left hand felt oddly empty as Gradak folded his bloodstained hands around the stone and lifted Jarem’s memories.
Kaz’s eyes flew open.
The memories crashed upon him like a tidal wave. They came so swiftly, so powerfully, he had trouble breathing.
Vallia. In his arms again, her sweat-slicked skin against his, her mouth open to him, sweet—
Taken. Rounded up like beasts by the Cardassian monsters. Taken to who knew where. “You can leave. We only want the Bajorans.” And so, broken and weeping, he left, rather than throw his life away in a futile attempt to find her; left only to return, to kill as many Cardassians as he could—
“Jarem…?”
Safe here, on Tevlik’s moon. Brought here by the one man he really trusted—Arak Katal. The starlight caught Katal’s earring, making it glitter. Glitter like his eyes, burning with passion to free his people. Side by side they fought. Friends. Brothers in arms.
“Traitor!” cried Kaz, surging upward. “Murderer!”
There was a warm hand on his. Gradak/Jarem knew that he was safe aboard Voyager, in Astall’s quarters. The Huanni knew what she was doing, and he trusted her. The hand was a lifeline, solid and reassuring. He clutched it hard, feeling the long, thin, delicate bones of her fingers give beneath the pressure. In a distant part of his mind, he knew he was hurting her. But she didn’t let go.
“Gradak Kaz,” Astall said, “your memories are in the forefront now. Jarem has given you the space to speak.”
Jarem felt Gradak’s pain and hope. The need to speak, to share his pain, to let this kind female know what had happened to him, to Vallia, to the thousands on Tevlik’s moon. He looked at her with eyes that both saw and did not see, and opened his mouth.
For an instant, the sound was familiar and alien at the same time. Then Kaz realized what it was: the noise of his combadge.
“Chakotay to Dr. Kaz and Commander Astall. Report to the bridge at once.”
Chapter
15
KAZ CLUTCHED Astall’s hands so hard he feared he would snap the bones.
“No,” he gasped. “Listen to me. Listen! I have to tell you—”
Astall squeezed his hands and then disengaged herself from their grip.
“Take slow, deep breaths,” she said softly. “I’ll be back in a moment.”
He heard her talking in a quiet voice, heard Chakotay answer, but didn’t give a damn about the words. Inside, Gradak’s memories, raw and seething like a lava pit, were demanding acknowledgment.
Again, Kaz felt the light touch of the Huanni’s hand, this time gently stroking his forehead.
“It’s important,” she said softly. “Captain Chakotay wants to see both of us on the bridge. I’m so sorry, but we’ll have to finish this at a later time.”
“Later?” There was nothing of Jarem in the vitriolic tone of voice. This was Gradak, in agony, outraged at again being ignored and pushed aside.
“Gradak,” said Astall, her voice completely unruffled by the outburst, “You will be heard. I swear this to you. But the body in which your memories dwell has a duty to his people, just as you did to yours. He’s needed now. You will not interfere with him.”
“He understands,” said Jarem, his voice hoarse from the screams. “But he’s not going back to where he was. Not until he’s damn good and ready.”
“I’m not surprised,” said Astall. There was a hint of admiration in her voice. “Gradak was clearly a very strong individual. Now, Jarem Kaz. Take another deep breath. See yourself settling back firmly into your body, and then open your eyes.”
He did as she told him, and it was a relief to look down at his body and see it whole and without blood-stains. He realized he was trembling.
She helped him sit up. “How do you feel?” she asked, her big purple eyes full of concern as she stroked his hair gently.
“Okay,” he said, lying a little. His heart was racing.
She searched his face. “Jarem, if you like, I can relieve you of duty for a few hours. We can go ahead and finish this.”
He grimaced. “Absolutely not,” he said. “This is the first time the captain has asked for me, and I’m not going to put him off.”
Her ears flapped gently, revealing her concern even more clearly than her expression did.
“I don’t like the thought of you running around with Gradak so intensely active in your head.”
“He’s always been in my head, as have the others.”
“Not like this.”
“No,” Kaz was forced to agree, “not like this. But I can manage.”
“If you have any suspicions that you can’t,” she said, “I want you back here immediately. Is that understood?”
Kaz had to grin. “Aye, ma’am. Come on. We need to get to the bridge and find out what’s going on.”
Sekaya reached the holodeck and stared at the closed doors. She took a deep, steadying breath.
“Computer, open door to Holodeck One.”
The door opened. Sekaya was puzzled when she peered into the holodeck and saw only an empty room that looked rather like a cargo bay.
“Computer,” she asked, “Where is Captain Chakotay?”
“Captain Chakotay is on the bridge.”
Sekaya made a noise of exasperation. She didn’t want to bring up the subject there, in front of everyone, but perhaps she could arrange a time to discuss it with him. She headed for the turbolift.
When she appeared on the bridge and glanced casually at the screen, she gasped. The sound was soft, but Chakotay had excellent hearing. He turned to look at her.
“Good timing, Sekaya. I was just about to ask you to come up,” he said. “Kaz, Astall, and Fortier are on their way as well.”
As if mesmerized, Sekaya walked slowly down to the screen. She hadn’t spent a lot of time in space, and the glimpses into the stars still enchanted her. But what she was regarding now, she knew, was not of the stars and space. These were the things of men.
“What is all of this?” she asked. “How close are we to Loran II?”
“It’s debris from various sources,” said Kim, answering the first question but not the second. The turbolift door hissed open. Fortier, Astall, and Kaz emerged.
Like Sekaya, Fortier gasped at the sight. “Mon dieu,” he said softly.
“The wreckage isn’t recent,” Ellis said, forestalling the question. “It looks like there was a battle here some time ago.”
“These were Federation and Cardassian ships,” said Kim.
“I was not aware there were any battles fought in this area of space,” said Fortier. His voice was admirably calm, but Sekaya could see that his hands trembled slightly. “How close are we to Loran II?” he asked, echoing Sekaya.
“Not that far. I’d planned to slow down at this point, take our time getting there,�
� said Chakotay. “But given this,” he added, indicating the debris, “I’m inclined to continue at our present speed. You were right, Mr. Fortier. We have no records of any battles being fought here, but obviously, we can see that that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.”
“None of these was a particularly big ship,” said Kim, his eyes on the controls. “I’m picking up readings of Cardassian shuttles and freighters as well as the wreckage of a few Federation shuttles, three Maquis fighters, and one Peregrine-class courier.”
“Also known as a Maquis interceptor,” said Chakotay.
“A skirmish, then,” said Kaz, looking intently at the floating ruins on the screen. “Not a battle. And probably between Maquis and Cardassians. I’ll bet anything those Federation ships were stolen.”
Sekaya glanced at him. His voice sounded deeper, slightly harsher, and he carried himself a little differently. She recalled that Astall had told her that one of his hosts had been a Maquis. Maybe he was remembering his time in the fight. Or maybe she was just imagining it; she had, after all, met Kaz for only a few brief moments.
“The doctor’s right,” Kim said. “I’m confirming the identities of some of the vessels, and they were reported stolen by the Maquis several years ago.”
Chakotay, like Kaz, had tensed slightly. “That’s good news,” he said. “If it was a small skirmish, it’s less likely to have affected Fortier’s colony. Also, we should keep in mind that this debris could have been drifting for some time. The battle could have occurred nowhere near Loran II.”
“On the negative side,” said Ellis, “depending of course on the amount of drift, a Class-M planet in the area wouldn’t go unnoticed, especially if anyone had to make an emergency landing for repairs.”
Sekaya winced inwardly. Chakotay had been trying to cast a positive spin on an alarming situation, but this first officer of his didn’t seem to realize how deeply it affected Voyager’s passengers. Loran II wasn’t just another Class-M planet; it was home to these people. It was where their loved ones were—or so everyone hoped.
“Lieutenant Tare,” said Chakotay, ignoring Ellis, “how far does the debris field extend, and is it possible for us to get through it?”
Tare’s dark hands moved with expertise over the controls. “It’s pretty extensive, sir,” she said. “There’s scattered debris more or less all the way to Loran II. It may not have been a full-blown battle, but this was obviously a hot area of space for a while. I can plot a path, however, that steers clear of it.”
“How tricky will navigating it be? Will we be able to go to warp?”
Tare scrutinized the data. “We can go to warp,” she decided.
Fortier swallowed hard. Astall moved to step beside the colonist leader and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Sekaya, too, knew what the man was thinking: Did this reach my land? Did this war claim my people?
“Then resume course, Lieutenant. Warp nine.” Chakotay looked at his guest. “Mr. Fortier, you are, of course, welcome to stay on the bridge, or you may wish to take this time to notify and prepare your people.”
Fortier looked at Chakotay appraisingly. There was no real need to hurry, and he knew it. The debris was old. The colonists who had remained on Loran II had said nothing of an attack, and it was only recently that they had ceased to be heard from.
But Sekaya knew her brother, and knew that he was concerned about the colonists. Now that there was a reason to be concerned, even an old reason, Chakotay was going to see to it that the colonists learned as soon as possible the fate of their friends who had remained behind. And Fortier recognized what Chakotay had done for him.
“Thank you, Captain. I think I will tell my companions. They…will want to know. I appreciate your willingness to hasten our arrival.”
“Of course.”
Astall stopped Fortier on his way out, placing a gentle hand on his arm.
“Please let me know if Sekaya and I can be of any help,” she said earnestly.
Fortier’s face softened, and Sekaya wondered if those were tears in his eyes. Huanni often tended to bring out the best in people, she had observed. They encouraged people to be soft, to be open, when it was so easy, so natural, to be hard and defensive.
“Thank you,” Fortier replied gently, then left.
Sekaya turned toward her brother and regarded him. Quietly, he said, “Sekaya, you came to the bridge before I requested your presence. Did you…need to see me about anything?”
Yes, she cried inwardly. I need to tell you what happened to us. I need to let you know what they did.
She cleared her throat. “Yes, but it can wait. The Loran II situation needs our immediate attention.” She hesitated, then said, “On the way back, we’ll talk, yes?”
He smiled, the smile she remembered from their childhood, the smile that had always warmed her heart.
“Of course. I look forward to it.”
Kaz was aware that his heart was beating rapidly. Sweat gathered at his hairline, and he clenched his fists. Seeing the ruins of old Maquis ships, the type of ship that he himself had flown, knowing that his friends had died here—
No, damn it, he thought. I never flew a Maquis fighter. I knew no Maquis personally until after the war. These are Gradak’s feelings, not mine.
Astall stood beside him in the turbolift. They were alone. For a while, they didn’t speak, but he was fully aware that the Huanni was keenly observing his every reaction, every expression that flitted across the face he was trying so hard to keep impassive.
“We still have a few hours until we reach Loran II,” she said at last. “There would be time for us to finish what we started.”
He looked at her then. “Can you guarantee that there won’t be any lingering effects that might impair my performance as a physician?”
Astall sighed. “No. There’s no question that it will be emotionally intense. Ideally, I’d want to have a buffer zone to factor in recovery time.”
Kaz shrugged and sighed. “We’ve just found one thing we didn’t expect out here—wreckage from a battle we didn’t even know had been fought. We might very well find something else. I have to be at full capacity in case there are injured who need immediate treatment.”
She regarded him steadily. “Gradak is still very much present with you. Are you at full capacity right now?”
Silently, Kaz asked himself that question. The answer was a definite yes. Unhappy as Gradak was, his memories prowling around in Kaz’s brain like a caged animal, Kaz knew the Maquis would not stand in the way of anything Jarem Kaz needed to do in his capacity as a doctor. Gradak knew full well how awful it was to lose a loved one. He’d stay at bay rather than interfere with Kaz’s duties.
At least, for now.
But if Gradak Kaz were allowed to speak, what kind of reaction would Jarem Kaz have? How exhausted or depleted would he be by the experience?
What kind of mistakes does a distracted doctor make?
“Yes,” Kaz said. “I’m fully competent.”
Astall sighed. Her ears drooped slightly. “I’m sorry. I suppose I should have waited.”
“We couldn’t have known we’d come across a battlefield,” said Kaz. “And I completely agreed with you. I wanted to have this over and done with too.”
“Well, let’s just hope that we won’t encounter anything too unusual on Loran II. We can drop off the colonists and get on our way. Then we can give Gradak the audience he’s waited for so patiently.”
Kaz couldn’t think of anything he’d like better.
Chakotay quickly changed out of his tennis clothing and back into his uniform. When he returned to the bridge, he saw that Ellis had done the same.
“We’ll finish the game up later,” he told his first officer as he sat in the command chair and called up his computer.
Long-range sensors were pulling in vast amounts of data, but there seemed to be nothing significant yet. The debris they had encountered did not overly trouble Chakotay. The war had been a long and bit
ter one. It was likely that Federation starships would keep stumbling across unknown battlefields like this one for many years to come.
Nor did Ellis’s badly timed, dispassionate comment about M-Class worlds bother him. But he knew that Fortier was worried, and so he had increased Voyager’s speed. The sooner they got to Loran II and discovered what remained there, the better Chakotay would like it, whether it was good news or bad.
Sekaya’s door chimed softly. “Come,” she called.
The door hissed open and Fortier entered. She welcomed him with a smile and waved him in. She was sitting on the floor. In front of her she had spread an assortment of various representational items.
“I’m pleased you decided to come,” she said. “How are your people handling the news?”
He shrugged as he sat beside her. “They took it well enough. I tried to concentrate on what Captain Chakotay had said, to emphasize that the battle had been fought some time ago and we had been in communication with our families on the planet until very recently. But one can’t help but worry.”
Sekaya nodded sympathetically. “I understand,” she said. “And so does my brother. At least we’ll be there in just a few hours.”
“Your brother?” His eyes traveled over her face and then his lips curved into a smile and he nodded. “Ah, yes, I see the resemblance now. You are very similar, in fact. You’re not twins, are you?”
She smiled. “No. Chakotay’s a little older than I am, but we are very much alike.”
He nodded. “Indeed. So, Sekaya—you asked me to come. I am here. What is it you wish?”
“I wanted to know if you had given any thought to what we discussed in the holodeck—about doing a ritual.”
His expression darkened. “I don’t know what kind of ritual to prepare. I don’t know what we’re going to find.”
Gently, Sekaya said, “I thought of that. I have two ideas I’d like to discuss with you. One would be a sort of offering to the land. It would thank the planet for taking care of your people and welcoming them back to stay. The second one would be…would be to honor the dead.”
Spirit Walk, Book One Page 14