Star Trek: Voyager: A Pocket Full of Lies

by Kirsten Beyer

  Conlon nodded. “Feel free, but if you ask me to degauss anything with a micro-filament you’re going to have a mutiny on your hands.”

  Torres smiled for Colon’s benefit. As soon as the chief engineer had departed, she asked Icheb to join her and revised one of his standing orders.

  • • •

  “You’re awfully quiet tonight,” Counselor Cambridge observed.

  His dinner companion, Seven, looked up briefly from her plate. She’d been moving her sautéed vegetables from place to place with her fork without eating any of them. “Apologies.”

  Cambridge sat back in his chair and emptied the last of the merlot he had chosen to accompany his replicated pasta. Placing the empty glass back on the table he said, “I wasn’t offended, just concerned.”

  Seven lowered her fork and crossed her arms at her chest. “Did you see her eyes?”

  A dozen flatteries came to mind and were immediately rejected. Seven had entered his quarters a half hour earlier but had not really been present. There was no redirection of moods like this, not with this particular woman. “The admiral’s?” he asked, assuming this was a thought process that had been festering since their meeting with the Nihydron.

  “The holographic projection.”

  “I can’t say I noticed them. It wasn’t the best image. It was an extraordinary thing to see Tesh utilize our technology to project so much detail from his mind.”

  “They were her eyes,” Seven said flatly.

  “You have known Kathryn Janeway longer and better than I,” Cambridge conceded. “I’m willing to defer to your judgment.”

  “Since the meeting I have considered and rejected five hundred and ninety-three possible circumstances by which another version of Admiral Janeway could exist at this time on that planet. Many of the required parameters are not known to Federation science but would have been part of any calculation undertaken by the Borg in analyzing this situation.”

  “And you have rejected them because . . . ?”

  “Their projected probability falls between a thousandth and a hundredth of one percent when you include the assumption that Admiral Janeway’s death was a fixed point in time,” Seven replied. “My initial instinct was that the image had to be some sort of fabrication. I still believe that must be so. But her eyes . . .”

  “Cognitive dissonance isn’t for sissies. You must either abandon one of your instinctive responses, or accept that both are true.”

  “But they can’t be.”

  “I don’t know about that.”

  “Explain,” Seven challenged him.

  “In a moment. Tell me first, what did you see in those eyes that convinced you that woman is Kathryn Janeway?”

  “A very specific and unsettling combination of defiance and pain.”

  “I know that look,” Cambridge allowed. “The problem then becomes determining a means by which a version of Kathryn Janeway, other than the one returned to us eight months ago, could still exist.”

  “No such woman could.”

  “And yet she does. How could that have happened?”

  “The only high-probability response is through the interference of another being with power that surpasses what we experience as ordinary reality, with some vested interest in saving another Kathryn Janeway’s life.”

  “Q?”

  Seven nodded warily.

  “And is there some reason you did not suggest this as a possibility when the matter was open for discussion?” Cambridge asked.

  “I had not yet had sufficient time to consider all of the possible alternatives,” Seven replied, then shook her head. “After the loss of his son to Omega, Q departed this plane of existence in a rage.”

  “And you feared to speak the devil’s name?”

  Seven stared at him quizzically. “I do not fear him. I do, however, respect his capabilities and his intemperance.”

  “Both are limitless,” Cambridge agreed. “But I seriously doubt that’s what we’re seeing.”

  “Why?”

  “Q was wrong to lay the blame for his son’s death at the feet of Admiral Janeway. It probably took him a few minutes to realize it, but our continued existence suggests that he figured it out. Had his initial rage warranted vengeance, he would have taken it by now. Whatever this is, it’s too subtle for an angry Q.”

  “I cannot think of any other species with the capabilities required to counter the actions of the multiverse.”

  “Nor can I,” Cambridge agreed. “But that doesn’t mean they’re not out there. If you are right, and that is another Kathryn Janeway, we should probably gird our loins in preparation for encountering such a species.”

  “That potential doesn’t trouble you?”

  “I’m glad I finished my dinner before we broached the topic, but honestly, all things considered, that’s a fairly typical day around here.”

  VESTA

  Captain Chakotay didn’t know what had abruptly awakened him. He reached instinctively to his left and found cold rumpled bedding where Kathryn should have been. He scanned her darkened bedroom. She was not there, nor was any ambient light bleeding in from her living quarters where she retreated to work when sleep proved elusive.

  The next sound that met his ears brought him upright in an instant. Breaking glass? Throwing his feet over the side of the bed he moved toward the ’fresher. He heard nothing through the door and knocked softly.

  Kathryn’s muffled voice met his ears in response.

  Chakotay continued to listen for sounds of distress. None came. Finally the door slid open and Kathryn emerged, her hand wrapped in a small towel. “What happened?” he asked.

  “You missed it,” she replied, brushing past him.

  Poking his head inside the small room, Chakotay saw that the mirror that hung above the sink was broken. Stepping inside for a better look he noted that a single point in the lower left quadrant had been impacted and the surface of the mirror shattered. He stared for a moment wondering how this had happened as dozens of partial images of his face looked back at him.

  “Kathryn?” he called.

  Chakotay awoke, calling Kathryn’s name. Momentarily disoriented, he fought for his bearings. Kathryn was not asleep beside him, as she should have been. The door separating the bedroom from the rest of her suite was closed. It hadn’t been when they’d retired for the evening.

  He rose quickly and peeked inside the ’fresher. The mirror above the sink was in one piece. Chakotay availed himself of a robe hung on the back of the door and moved hastily to the admiral’s living quarters.

  She was seated at her desk wearing a uniform tank and long, soft trousers. A steaming mug sat at her right hand. Her left held a padd.

  “Trouble sleeping?” he asked.

  “What gave it away?”

  Chakotay crossed to stand behind her and gaze over her shoulder at the padd. Reaching for her coffee with one hand, she used the other to offer him the material she had been reviewing.

  “When did this come in?” Chakotay asked.

  “A couple of hours ago. I asked O’Donnell to contact the Nihydron before they were out of range and request any data they were willing to share with us about Sormana. This was waiting in my queue when I gave up trying to sleep.”

  The captain quickly reviewed the padd. It was dense reading, including lists of settlements and major military engagements on Sormana going back hundreds of years. Biographical data was provided on several notable leaders on both sides of the conflict. Information on the denzit who shared Kathryn’s face was limited to her title and a handful of recent battles. Nothing shed any light on who she might be or how she had come to lead the Rilnar on Sormana.

  Chakotay moved to the other side of the desk and pulled a chair close, sitting. “Did anything in particular catch your eye?”

  “This planet. It has no tactical value. Both the Rilnar and Zahl are advanced civilizations. Both developed interstellar flight hundreds of years ago and have colonized other worlds
since then. Any of them could easily absorb the population of Sormana.”

  “The Nihydron said they originated there,” Chakotay reminded her. “Clearly this conflict began among their ancient ancestors.”

  “So? Given all they have conquered and held within much safer territories, what difference does one planet make now?”

  “It’s their Earth, Kathryn.”

  “This report suggests that both possess formidable starships and considerable arsenals of advanced weapons. Assuming they harbor enough ill will between them to allow this conflict to continue, why hasn’t it expanded to include a wider field of battle? Nothing here indicates that there are regular engagements between these ancient enemies beyond Sormana.”

  “I guess we’ll find out more in a few hours,” Chakotay replied.

  Kathryn shrugged and lifted her hands to massage her shoulders. Chakotay stood and moved to stand behind her, assuming the task of relaxing the tense knots that had formed in her muscles.

  “Whoever that woman is, Kathryn, she’s not you,” he assured her softly.

  She inhaled deeply and released the breath slowly. “I know.”

  “Why is there a but at the end of that statement?”

  “I can’t un-see what Junior showed me,” Kathryn said softly. “I can’t tell you how many of them there were. But each one had a life she valued as much as I do mine. And each of those lives was snuffed out in an instant. What if resetting the balance between Omega and the Q had some unforeseen effects? What if we somehow reversed what the multiverse did to bring those deaths about?”

  Kneeling beside her, Chakotay took her hands in his, noting that they had turned to ice. “We didn’t alter time, Kathryn. Everything that had happened up to the point where Junior and Afsarah sacrificed themselves to save us was left untouched. But let’s say it wasn’t. Let’s say all of them were somehow restored to life. Would that bother you?”

  Kathryn paused, staring into his eyes. “I don’t know,” she finally whispered. “Twice now I have encountered alternate versions of myself. Both of those encounters ended with their untimely deaths to ensure my salvation. Confronting my own mortality is difficult, but it doesn’t bother me nearly as much as watching them die. I worry about finding myself in a situation where the temptation will be to save this woman at all costs.”

  “From whom?”

  “Herself.”

  “She’s not you, Kathryn,” he insisted. “At most she is some version of you whose life diverged from yours at some point in your past. Whatever she has experienced since then has redefined her and made her a unique being. You are not responsible for her choices any more than you were those of the Admiral Janeway who helped us destroy that transwarp hub.”

  “I know.”

  As Chakotay stared into her troubled eyes, his thoughts turned back to the strange dream that had awakened him.

  “Come back to bed,” he suggested.

  Nodding faintly she rose and once she had settled herself in his arms soon slipped into a deep sleep. Chakotay found no such solace.

  4

  VOYAGER

  What have we got, Lieutenant Lasren?” Commander Paris asked. After a week spent beside his wife through labor, delivery, and the first days of his son’s life, bridge duty felt like a reprieve. He might have pushed it one more day, but B’Elanna was doing great, as were his children, and Paris felt he had already asked too much of his best friend. Kim had been covering many of Paris’s duty shifts on top of his own.

  At his right hand, Chakotay sat reviewing the latest sensor reports on the data panel in the arm of his chair.

  “We are holding position approximately three light-years from Sormana,” the ops officer replied. “Several ships have been detected on long-range sensors. They appear to be patrolling a perimeter that begins roughly twenty million kilometers from the planet.”

  “What’s between them and the planet?” Paris asked.

  “Nothing, so far as we can tell from this distance.”

  “Huh,” Paris said.

  “Helm, set course to intercept the nearest Rilnar vessel and engage at warp two,” Chakotay ordered.

  “Aye, sir,” Ensign Aytar Gwyn replied.

  “Why so slow?” Paris asked.

  “Give them a look at us,” Chakotay replied.

  Voyager had maintained their course for only a few minutes when Lieutenant Aubrey reported from tactical, “Captain, one of the Zahl vessels has broken formation and is moving to intercept us.”

  “That will work too,” Chakotay said. “Slow to one-quarter impulse when we are within five thousand kilometers, identify us, and begin transmitting standard friendship greetings.”

  Shortly thereafter the face of the commanding officer of the Zahl vessel appeared on the viewscreen. She was humanoid with light-brown flesh and slight brow ridges that were broken by a bony spine that ran from her hairline to the top of her nose. Both sides of her face were riddled with darker, pitted flesh that suggested battle scars, but were too regular in their placement for that to be likely.

  “Captain Chakotay, I am Shipmaster Pilusch of the Zahl space vessel Tascara. I must ask that you alter your course to avoid breaching the no-fly-zone currently in effect around the planet Sormana.”

  “We’ve come here hoping to learn more about this planet and its history,” Chakotay said.

  “Permit me to transmit coordinates of our capital world, Zahlna II, where our diplomatic envoys will provide you with any information you require,” Pilusch replied courteously, but with a hint of steel in her voice.

  “I appreciate that, Shipmaster. Is anyone allowed to approach the planet or send researchers to its surface?” Chakotay asked, just as reasonably.

  “Not at this time. It is a precaution put in place for your own security, Captain. As you may be aware, this planet is in dispute. While neither the Rilnar nor the Zahl born beyond Sormana’s shores condone the continued bloodshed this conflict produces, we also recognize the sovereignty of the planet’s people and their right to resolve this situation without our interference. A large field of subspace mines has been placed around the planet, ensuring that neither side’s space fleets will engage or assist those on the surface. Exceptions are made for a limited number of relief vessels that provide humanitarian aid. It is our sincere hope that someday the people of Sormana will choose peace and learn to live with one another as we have learned to respect the borders of our interstellar territories. Until then, no outsiders can safely access the planet.”

  “I assure you—” Chakotay began.

  “Reverse your course, Captain, lest I be forced to conclude that your intentions here are to offer aid to the Rilnar. You will receive no further warnings. Tascara out.”

  The image of Pilusch’s face was replaced by one of her ship, a patrol vessel half Voyager’s size but armed with enough hull-mounted cannons to deter engagement.

  “She was downright pleasant up until the end,” Paris noted.

  Chakotay sighed. “Reverse course and take us out of the system,” he ordered. “Once we’re out of sensor range we’ll plot a return course from the other side and see if we can get the Rilnar’s attention this time.”

  “You think they’ll be any more helpful?”

  “No, but it can’t hurt to ask.”

  VESTA

  “Ornzitar Rileez, the commanding officer of the Rilnar vessel Golant, told a similar story,” Captain Chakotay reported. “His concern was that we had come to aid the Zahl. Voyager’s specs were transmitted to every ship monitoring the perimeter of their no-fly zone on both sides the minute we made contact with the Zahl. We were met with courtesy, respect, and absolute defiance while being assured that this was for our protection.”

  “They’ve been playing this game for a long time, Captain,” Farkas pointed out. Admiral Janeway sat to her right on Vesta’s bridge listening to Chakotay’s report without comment. “It’s likely that every local spacefaring species is well aware of Sormana’s status and s
imply avoids the area. Any newcomers are bound to be met with suspicion.”

  “We did detect several small vessels that appeared to be utilizing some sort of Rilnar checkpoint,” Chakotay continued. “Probably the humanitarian aid the Zahl shipmaster mentioned. Three were granted passage to the planet. Their courses were erratic, but all of them made orbit safely, so it can be done, Admiral.”

  “Both sides must possess the capability to bring resources to the planet. The Zahl probably have a similar site somewhere along the perimeter.”

  “None that we detected,” Chakotay said, “but that doesn’t mean it’s not there.”

  “Can we breach this perimeter without attracting the attention of the patrol vessels?” Janeway finally asked.

  “You want to run the blockade?” Farkas asked, clearly surprised.

  “Not with that minefield intact. But I want an away team on the surface of that planet before we grow old waiting to see who ultimately wins this war,” the admiral replied tersely.

  “The Rilnar and Zahl appear to be quite civilized,” Chakotay noted. “They also seemed, I don’t know, embarrassed might be too strong a word, by this whole situation. But it’s clear that the Rilnar and Zahl not living on Sormana have agreed to a strict noninterference policy.”

  “At least there’s one thing we have in common,” Farkas noted.

  “But why?” Janeway demanded. “If those living beyond this system’s borders have learned to live and let live, what the hell is wrong with the people of Sormana? And if neither side’s government is feeding military supplies to the natives or providing more than humanitarian aid, how have they managed to continue this war for so long? Where are their resources coming from? What kind of weapons are they using down there that the entire planet hasn’t been destroyed by now?”

  “All good questions,” Chakotay said, “but not ones we are necessarily entitled to have answered.”

  “Would the Rilnar tell you anything about this denzit?” the admiral asked.

  “No. They referenced her only by title. They don’t answer to her. I’m not sure how much the crews of these patrol vessels even know about her.”