Star Trek: Voyager: A Pocket Full of Lies

by Kirsten Beyer

  “Do you honestly believe that would stop her?”

  “No.” After a long pause, she continued, “She doesn’t deserve the truth. She has no right to it. It’s mine, not hers. But you do.”

  Her hand gripped his again, this time much colder.

  “I know I can’t make you swear not to reveal anything to her. But I have to believe that once you understand, you won’t.”

  “Please do not ask me for assurances you know I am unable to give.”

  Her thumb brushed the back of his hand before she released it. As she continued to speak, it became increasingly difficult for her to form the necessary words through the emotional response they evoked.

  “When Captain Chakotay came here and asked me about stardate 57445 I thought he must know. I thought the Zahl must have gotten to him too. Nothing else made sense. But he was satisfied when I told him that I had died. Why was that?”

  “I cannot explain in the detail you require. Admiral Janeway is the best person to answer that question,” Tuvok replied. “You know that she, too, apparently died on that day. According to the admiral, who was taken at the moment of her death to the Q Continuum, every single version of Kathryn Janeway who has ever existed in any quantum reality died at the same fixed point in time. She witnessed those deaths in a moment of expanded consciousness granted to her by a Q. Knowing that you had suffered the same fate was the conclusive evidence Chakotay needed to confirm your identity.”

  “Every single version of us . . . but why?”

  “It is a long story.”

  “Don’t weary yourself telling it. Honestly, nothing the universe does surprises me anymore.”

  “What is the significance of that stardate apart from your death and resuscitation?”

  “Did Chakotay tell you about Dayne?”

  “The Rilnar officer who assisted you when you were first rescued from the Zahl and with whom you shared an intimate relationship?”

  “We did more than that. We were married in a private ceremony three years ago.”

  The obvious pain in her voice made Tuvok refrain from congratulating her.

  “Shortly thereafter I learned I was pregnant. I went into labor at the Center in the middle of an unusually fierce attack, even by Zahl standards. Ours was the first advanced shield grid to come online and they were determined to bring it down, understanding what would happen if we were able to secure all of our settlements with similar defensive systems. They failed, but it was a very long day.

  “My death was not the result of injuries sustained in battle. I’d been isolated in the most secure sector of the Center since my contractions began at daybreak. I died in childbirth. I bled out. Mastin still can’t tell me who the doctor was that brought me back or how he did it. But whatever he did, it obviously worked.

  “At the moment of my death, Dayne kept a promise he’d made to me months earlier. Our only concern, beyond liberating Sormana, was securing the safety of our daughter. He took her from the Center, believing I was dead. They were both captured by the Zahl attempting to leave the surface. The Zahl have never acknowledged this. They insist that they don’t have them. On bad days I wonder if they’re telling the truth and we’ve just never managed to find their bodies. But several eyewitnesses have sworn to seeing Dayne and our child surrounded and transported away.

  “I honestly believe that if she was dead, I’d feel it. And I never have. She’s out there, somewhere. Dayne is with her. Even if the Zahl don’t know what he was to me or who the child is, they do not negotiate the release of prisoners. The only way for me to get them back is to win this war.”

  Tuvok had believed until this moment that whatever the denzit’s true reasons for staying were, he would be obligated to convince her to abandon them.

  That was no longer the case. It wasn’t the raw anguish of her voice that moved him. It was their shared tragedy. They had both lost a child. But in her case there was still a chance, slim though it might be, to correct this unacceptable reality.

  “I see,” he finally replied.

  “But . . .”

  “You need not fear. For me to reveal what you have told me might further endanger the life of your daughter.”

  “That I will never do.”

  15

  VESTA

  Let’s start at the beginning,” Admiral Janeway told those assembled in the Vesta’s main briefing room. Captains Chakotay and Farkas, Commanders O’Donnell and Glenn, were joined by Counselor Cambridge, Seven, the Doctor, and Tuvok. The commander had returned from Sormana a few hours earlier and reported having been seriously injured while on the planet. Doctor Sharak had performed a thorough physical evaluation and advised Janeway that while evidence of trauma to Tuvok’s spine and central nervous system was present, the Rilnar’s medical treatment had been more than adequate. Sharak had authorized Tuvok to continue on duty without reservation.

  “Unless anyone here can go back before the Rilnar and Zahl tribes on Sormana first started throwing rocks at one another, I’d say that’s the beginning,” Counselor Cambridge offered.

  “Tribes?” Admiral Janeway asked. “They’re the same species?”

  “Yes,” Cambridge replied.

  “So this has always been a civil war?”

  “There’s nothing civil about it,” O’Donnell said.

  “Go on, Counselor,” Janeway ordered.

  Cambridge, O’Donnell, and Fife recounted in detail the history lessons they had learned. Seven and the Doctor were quick to point out that the Zahl’s version of this story was essentially the same. Both away teams also agreed that the ideological division between the vast majority of the Rilnar and Zahl populations living on the colonies and the planet’s natives had never been starker.

  “That just doesn’t make any sense,” Captain Farkas said. “These are two advanced, spacefaring civilizations. They have the resources necessary to transport every single person on that planet to a cargo ship, relocate them to existing safe territories, and end this thing in a matter of weeks. Instead, they’re content to wait until it burns itself out?”

  “I’m not sure removing the natives from the planet would actually solve anything,” Cambridge said. “Give them access to the advanced technology of the colonies and interstellar fleets, and the hatred might simply spread and grow into a sector-wide conflict. This way, the colonists and their leaders can look sadly down on their misguided cousins on Sormana, claim to respect their right to self-determination, and remain smug and complacent while risking very little.”

  “That minefield has become a barrier between Sormana and the rest of the sector. As long as the fighting doesn’t spread, it’s really not a problem for the colonial leadership, just an embarrassment,” Chakotay observed.

  “I understand that oftentimes political will can go absent without leave,” Farkas agreed bitterly. “But thousands of years later, the residents of Sormana have learned nothing? Each side honestly believes they can still win?”

  “I can’t speak for the Zahl,” Cambridge said, “but there are a fair number of Rilnar who cling to a desperate hope that peace might still prevail.”

  “Based on what?” Janeway asked.

  “A myth, or an unverifiable historical incident that occurred a few hundred years back,” Cambridge replied. He proceeded to present a brief summary of the legend of the two brothers and how close they had come to ending the conflict once and for all.

  “If the Prime Directive didn’t prohibit it, and there was any chance they were still alive two hundred years later, I’d suggest we try and track those silver-tongued devils down,” Chakotay said.

  “I don’t think it was just the brothers,” Cambridge noted. “A critical component, at least as I read this legend, was the moment they arrived. Only after something like Batibeh were both sides willing to seriously consider trying to find another way.”

  “Give them enough time on Sormana and there will be another Batibeh,” Farkas said sadly. “There always is.”

&
nbsp; “So there is little to no chance that the colonial leadership is going to expend any effort to end the conflict, unless the natives come to their senses,” Janeway summarized.

  “In a nutshell,” Cambridge agreed.

  Turning to Seven, Janeway asked, “Were you able to locate any data supporting the denzit’s claim that the Zahl used a chroniton torpedo to attack Voyager and capture her, or that the Zahl would have had any reason to do so?”

  “No,” Seven replied. “The sources I spoke to, while not terribly well-informed, indicate that there is little civilian research under way in the area. If the Zahl have temporal technology at their disposal, it is a military asset and well-hidden from the general public.”

  “Then it might not exist?” Janeway asked.

  “It does,” Glenn interjected. When all eyes turned toward her, she related Velth and Barclay’s discovery of the dying Zahl at Lillestan.

  When she had finished, the Doctor picked up the story. “I have analyzed the patient records Commander Glenn was able to obtain, and what they reveal is very disturbing. A number of Zahl soldiers, identified at Lillestan as ‘deserters,’ have died over the last few years from a degenerative condition caused by quantum misalignment.”

  “Quantum misalignment?” Janeway repeated. “The Zahl are bringing reinforcements to this timeline from other quantum realities to fight their war?”

  “It appears so,” the Doctor replied.

  “How?” Janeway demanded.

  “I don’t know. What is clear from the records that I was able to review is that the longer they remain in this timeline, the worse their condition becomes. I can’t tell if returning them to their timelines would reverse the degenerative damage. Apparently finding out isn’t high on the Zahl’s list of priorities either.”

  “Wait a minute,” Janeway said. “We’ve encountered individuals from alternate timelines. We’ve never seen any who suffered from a similar condition.”

  “It is possible that the illness is caused not merely by crossing over into this timeline, but by some subtle difference in our quantum reality to which their bodies cannot acclimate,” Glenn suggested.

  “It is also possible that the method used to bring them here is the real culprit,” Seven suggested. “They could have been injured in transit without showing immediate symptoms.”

  “The denzit did say that the Zahl seem to have an endless supply of reinforcements and even she doesn’t know where they’re coming from or how they’re getting to Sormana,” Chakotay added.

  “There is a Zahl academic,” Seven began but paused when the Doctor coughed loudly at her use of the term.

  “Very well, Doctor,” Seven conceded, “a Zahl historical enthusiast, who told us that a Zahl male from Sormana named Rahalla claimed to have discovered chroniton particles on the surface several hundred years ago. He studied them for much of his life and eventually left the planet to share that knowledge with other scientists.”

  “I wonder if Rahalla’s chroniton particles could be related to the pools the brothers supposedly used to show Sormana’s leaders the horrors their future held,” Cambridge said.

  “When two sources from opposing camps reference similar legends they become harder to dismiss, don’t they?” O’Donnell asked.

  “Those sources are a myth and a barely credible historian,” Janeway reminded him.

  “But the deaths of those Zahl deserters is fact,” Chakotay said.

  “If there is temporal technology on that planet and it is being used to corrupt the timeline . . .” Janeway began.

  “We call the DTI?” Farkas asked.

  Janeway smiled wanly. “I’m afraid this is a little outside their jurisdiction.”

  “Ours too,” Chakotay noted.

  “One of the Zahl sources we spoke to also mentioned that it is widely rumored that the Krenim possess some sort of temporal technology.”

  “That I do believe,” Janeway said.

  “Did you encounter the Krenim when you went to retrieve the source of the Federation signal?” Chakotay asked.

  “We did,” Farkas replied. “They didn’t seem troubled by our presence in their territory, although they were quick to point us to the nearest exit.”

  “The Krenim once possessed incredibly advanced temporal technology,” Janeway said. “The message buoy we retrieved indicates that the Year of Hell did happen and our present condition suggests that its horrific effects were ultimately reversed by Voyager.”

  Tense silence gripped the room as everyone absorbed this.

  “Does the intelligence you gathered suggest that the Krenim still utilize that technology?” Chakotay asked. “If Voyager prevailed over them, was the timeline sufficiently altered to prevent them from following the same path again?”

  “There is no way to know based solely on what I heard,” Janeway replied. “What is interesting to me is that none of the logs we discovered, which were admittedly incomplete, referenced the Zahl or the Rilnar at all. Even if we hypothesize that the Zahl did find one of our buoys—a long shot, as they were designed to be activated only in the presence of a Federation signal with our quantum signature and encrypted using my personal access codes—I haven’t discovered anything yet that would have caused the Zahl to target Voyager.”

  “And if, as you suspect, the end result of Voyager’s encounter with the Krenim was a complete reset of the timeline, even the Krenim might not be aware of it,” Seven said.

  “I don’t know,” Janeway mused. “It’s possible the Krenim aren’t connected to this. Their Imperium is large and well defended and hasn’t so much as troubled their neighbors for a cup of sugar in a century.”

  “There are reports that Rahalla invited the Krenim of his day, as well as the Rilnar to study his discoveries,” Seven noted.

  “He hoped to use the mysteries and majesty of science to bring those occupying this area closer together?” Cambridge asked sarcastically.

  “Which Krenim?” Janeway asked. “Do you have any names?”

  “A few,” Seven replied. “The fragments we have reference a symposium on one of Zahlna’s starbases that was attended by a Krenim delegation led by a scientist named Annorax.”

  Janeway dropped her head into her hands and began massaging her temples. “Annorax built the weapon ship that Voyager encountered.”

  “How can space be so big and the universe so small?” O’Donnell asked rhetorically.

  Janeway turned to Tuvok for the first time since the briefing had begun. “Did the denzit mention the Krenim?”

  “She did not,” Tuvok replied.

  “Were you able to discover a good reason for her refusal to abandon the Rilnar and return with us?” Chakotay asked.

  “Yes, Captain. Her personal concerns far outweigh any ideological commitment to the Rilnar.”

  “What personal concerns?” Janeway demanded.

  “The denzit believes that the Zahl captured the Rilnar officer who first assisted her when she was rescued. They did more than share an intimate relationship prior to his loss. They were married. She is determined to save Dayne and believes the only way to do that is to defeat the Zahl.”

  The admiral sat back, exhaling slowly as she absorbed this information.

  “Does she know where he is being held?” Chakotay asked.

  Tuvok shook his head. “The Zahl have never acknowledged his capture or his existence as their prisoner. She does not find this response convincing enough to abandon the search.”

  “We can’t take on the Zahl on her behalf, nor can we assist her in defeating them,” Farkas noted.

  “We also can’t force her to return, can we?” O’Donnell asked.

  “If we could get close enough to Sormana to capture her, I don’t think Starfleet would mind,” Chakotay suggested.

  “She would mind,” Tuvok said. “Although currently operating in defiance of her Starfleet oath, it is neither illegal nor immoral for a Federation citizen to renounce that citizenship and become a naturali
zed citizen elsewhere. She chose this course when she had good cause to believe that rescue by Starfleet would never come. She will not change her mind now. Any effort to force her to do so will not succeed.”

  “You believe we should abandon her to her fate?” Janeway asked.

  “I believe she has the right to determine her own destiny. Extreme circumstances have dictated her choices but she is not behaving unreasonably or illogically. Her priorities are no longer ours but that does not make them less worthy of respect.”

  Admiral Janeway knew that Tuvok could read the disappointment on her face. She also knew that he no longer had the ability to assist her in this matter. The denzit had somehow gained his sympathy. Shared loss might have brought them closer. She silently cursed herself for not weighing Tuvok’s current emotional state more heavily before allowing him to meet with the denzit.

  “How were you injured on Sormana?” Janeway asked.

  “I was observing the denzit during an engagement with the Zahl. I interceded when I believed her life to be endangered and I took the brunt of an explosion meant for her.”

  “You saved her life?” Chakotay asked.

  “I could not have done otherwise, Captain. Could you?” he asked pointedly.

  Janeway spared Chakotay the need to answer that loaded question. “The Prime Directive limits our options here even as our duty to a fellow Starfleet officer demands action. We cannot interfere directly in this conflict. However, what we have learned—about our history with the Krenim and the evidence of ongoing temporal corruption—definitely impacts our interests, as well as those of every inhabitant of this quadrant.”

  “Are we going after the Krenim?” Farkas asked.

  “I have a few questions only they can answer,” Janeway replied. “Have Bryce and Icheb completed their work installing temporal shields aboard the Vesta?”

  “They need another day at least,” Farkas replied.

  “I want their final specifications forwarded to every fleet vessel and integrated into our defensive systems before we proceed,” Janeway ordered. “In the meantime, I’m going to speak to the denzit.”