“Sixty-three billion lives later.”
“I’m past that too.”
“How?”
“Come with me and I’ll tell you.”
The denzit shook her head. “It’s too easy. Here you are promising me everything my heart could possibly desire. All I have to do is give up my control, hand it over to you, and you’ll solve everything.”
“That’s not what I’m suggesting. I am trying to help you, but you know that in many respects my hands are tied.”
“By choice. That’s what you haven’t learned yet. Every day we make choices and only as long as we can are we truly free.”
“This isn’t freedom. This is a prison of your own making. The Zahl didn’t have to kill you to beat you. They still own you. You’re doing their bidding whether you acknowledge it or not.”
The denzit stepped back. “We’re done here.”
“Did I hit too close to home?” Janeway asked, closing the distance between them again.
“Home. That word. Tuvok said it was your sole obsession for seven years. I saw some of what you suffered along the way. I understand what you felt you’d lost and what you thought you owed Voyager’s crew. But home isn’t a place. It’s something you create. It’s something that lives inside you. And once it’s yours, you’ll never misunderstand the difference again.”
Janeway felt her brow furrow. “I don’t follow.”
“I know. And I doubt you ever will. I know what’s within my grasp. I won’t walk away from it for you or anyone else. I don’t need your help, Admiral.”
Janeway paused. “Would you consider giving me yours?”
The denzit was intrigued.
“How?”
“You know I can’t take a side in this conflict. But there are larger concerns at play. I need to send a team to the surface to confirm some intelligence we’ve gathered about the Zahl. Thanks to that damned minefield I can’t even get a ship close enough to perform the necessary sensor scans. Give us a clear course. Allow Voyager to assume orbit to guide the team. Don’t do anything to endanger them as long as they’re here.”
“That’s all?”
“That’s all.”
“You will share with me whatever you learn.”
Janeway shook her head. “I can’t promise that right now and you know it.”
“Then no sensor scans. Your ships don’t come anywhere near Sormana. Send down your team. Assign Tuvok to lead it.”
“I don’t think—” Janeway began.
“I’m not negotiating with you. I’m giving you my terms. You will accept them or this conversation is over. Tuvok will lead a team of three of your finest. I will allow them access to whatever intel I have that might assist them. If they are captured or killed, that’s your problem.”
Janeway nodded, grudgingly.
“And Admiral, if, in their travels, they learn that my characterization of the Zahl is accurate, please reconsider how much you can share with me about whatever you discover. I have every intention of ending this on my own, but it’s likely that countless lives could be saved if we work together.”
Janeway smiled wistfully. “The last time I decided to work with another version of me—who had dubious personal motivations—the Borg ended up invading the Alpha Quadrant and killed billions. Tempting as it is, I don’t plan on making that mistake again.”
The denzit activated a handheld comm device and signaled for Janeway’s transport. While they awaited confirmation she said, “When Chakotay told me you were still alive, I decided that of the two of us, you were undoubtedly living the best possible version of our life. Now, I’m not so sure.”
“I am,” Janeway said as the Rilnar transport beam took hold of her.
16
VOYAGER
Chakotay hadn’t bothered trying to sleep while Kathryn was on Sormana. He’d spent his time on the bridge, an unusual state of affairs during gamma shift. Lieutenant Kim, who technically had the watch, had updated him on their frustrating search to find a way through the minefield surrounding Sormana. Thus far, no usable patterns had been detected, nor had the source of the field’s ever-shifting activation transmissions.
The typically garrulous Kim had reported this in as few words as necessary. The captain watched as Harry left his ready room. Chakotay wondered if something was troubling him, but was pulled away by an incoming transmission from Vesta. Farkas advised Chakotay that Lieutenant Bryce had discovered another Federation signal and she was anxious to set course and retrieve what she hoped would be another message buoy. They knew the admiral hadn’t shared most of what she had learned from the first one with them, and there was only so much they were willing to discuss, even over an encrypted channel, but both captains had a healthy respect for the Krenim. Fear was too strong a word, but it was definitely waiting in the wings.
Voyager received word a little more than an hour after Janeway had departed that she was ready to transport back. Chakotay ended his contact with Farkas and leaving the bridge to Kim, hurried to the transporter room to greet her.
The admiral’s face betrayed nothing. He started to lead her toward the briefing room but when she directed the turbolift to deck three, he realized she intended to conduct this conversation in a different setting.
Only when the doors to his quarters had slid shut behind him and she had moved close to allow his arms to encircle her did he ask, “How did it go?”
She savored the embrace for a few moments, then stepped back. “Better than I expected. Not as well as I’d hoped.”
“She’s not coming back, is she?”
“No.”
“Because of Dayne?”
“Because she seems to honestly believe she can end this conflict.”
“Do you have any interest in letting her do that?”
“I don’t really have a choice. She said the strangest thing, something about home being what you create, what lives inside you.”
“I can relate to that. Can’t you?”
“Yes and no. I don’t think she considers Sormana her home. But something is keeping her here. She says this isn’t personal, but I don’t buy it.”
“The denzit didn’t give you any clues?”
“No. But she did agree to allow a small team to the surface to investigate the Zahl. She requested Tuvok. Although I’m hesitant to permit them further contact, I understand. Send Harry and Seven with him. I trust them to be more objective than Tuvok is.”
“More objective than a Vulcan?”
“More objective than Tuvok can be right now.”
“You want them to find the temporal technology the Zahl are using to bring their soldiers to Sormana?”
Janeway nodded.
“Does the denzit have any idea what our team will be looking for?”
“No, and we can’t tell her.”
“Will she allow Voyager to make orbit so I can monitor them and pull them out if things go badly?”
“No.”
Chakotay sighed. That wasn’t what he wanted to hear. “We still can’t get through that minefield without permission and a safe course.”
“Keep working on it.”
“Captain Farkas has located another Federation signal. She thinks there’s another buoy out there.”
“We’ll pick it up on our way to the Krenim homeworld.”
Chakotay was surprised. “You don’t want to wait and see what Tuvok’s team finds before you approach them?”
“I’m ready to confront them now. I’m taking the Vesta and I’d like Counselor Cambridge to join us.”
“I think the next time one of us goes home I’m going to put in a request for a new counselor. He hasn’t had time to do much of that for the last several months, and it’s not like we don’t need him.”
Janeway smiled bitterly. “I need him more right now. His perspective is critical, particularly in first-contact situations like this. I don’t know how objective I’m going to be able to be with the Krenim.”
Chako
tay’s smile in response was genuine. “Kathryn Janeway acknowledges the fact that she needs help. I’m going to make a note of that in my personal logs.”
“Do it and I’ll have you sent home in an escape pod.”
They embraced again, this time for a long, comforting moment.
“Don’t get yourself in any trouble while we’re apart. I’m going to have my hands full making sure Tuvok and his team get off that planet in one piece,” Chakotay said softly.
“Keep the fleet safe until I get back,” she said softly.
“Always.”
• • •
Relieved that the admiral had returned safely from Sormana, Lieutenant Harry Kim allowed his thoughts to drift back to the endless circular course they had taken since the last time he had spoken to Nancy Conlon off duty. He knew she was hurt and angry with him. He thought she just needed some time before she would be willing to open up to him. This had been a pattern between them over the last year. The cheerful openness of her demeanor had always masked murky unsettled waters beneath the surface. She was an outstanding engineer and a fine officer, but the volume of tragedy she had witnessed and endured in her career had been understandably overwhelming. You never knew it with Nancy until you were in the middle of a full-blown crisis. One minute she was doing her job, the next, paralyzed by unspeakable fears. She kept it all buried so deep that even Harry had a hard time seeing when he was close to tripping an internal mine.
He understood. He had his own painful past with which to contend. He shared her desire to keep it at bay, focusing on the positive, the here and now. Some people might have mistaken it for shallowness or lack of character. What they missed about him and Nancy was the amount of strength required to keep pushing past it, or maybe just running as fast as they could to keep ahead of it. Their friends expected them to hold it together. So they did, until they no longer could.
Kim didn’t think Nancy had ever shared what lay beneath those effervescent waters with anyone else. When she had decided to initiate intimate contact, he had finally felt he could relax. She knew his darkness almost as well as he knew hers. They would walk through it together.
And then she’d shut him out completely.
Another mission might have allowed them a little time and space to find their way back to each other. The Full Circle Fleet’s habit of careening from one massive crisis to another did not. Duty had to come first for both of them. But right now, Kim would have given anything for a few weeks of impulse travel through uninhabited space with nothing more interesting to discuss than astrometric data.
He was considering his next move when to his utter amazement Conlon stepped onto the bridge from the turbolift. She did not move immediately to the engineering station. Instead, she walked toward the center seat and said, “Do you have a minute?”
Kim didn’t, but under the circumstances he would make one.
“Waters, the bridge is yours,” he advised the acting operations officer. As she moved to take his seat, he led Conlon toward Chakotay’s ready room.
The moment they were alone, Conlon moved to Kim, wrapped her arms around him, and initiated a long, deep, incredibly passionate kiss. It was tempting to forget the awkwardness of the last several days. Perhaps that storm had passed as quickly as it had broken. But when Nancy began to tug urgently at his uniform jacket, pressing her body close enough to his to feel the effect her presence and actions were having, Kim took both her hands in his and held them steady as he stepped back.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
“Using you,” she teased.
Except that part of Kim understood that she wasn’t actually kidding. Taking back her hands, Conlon unzipped her uniform jacket. She had started to lift her tank top when the ready room door slid open and to Kim’s absolute mortification, Chakotay entered.
He paused the moment he understood what he had inadvertently stumbled upon. “Lieutenants,” he snapped.
Kim’s cheeks were now burning for two reasons. He moved to stand at attention as Conlon picked up the jacket she had just discarded and joined him.
“I don’t even know what to say,” Chakotay growled. “It’s not possible that two of my most trusted senior officers don’t know better than this. You’re both going on report. Lieutenant Conlon, you are dismissed. Lieutenant Kim, you’ll stay.”
By the time Conlon had made her brisk exit, Kim’s ears were pounding as blood rushed to his head, fleeing his extremities.
“Captain,” he began.
“Don’t,” Chakotay warned. “We’re in the middle of a ridiculously complicated mission here. Your priorities are completely out of order. You’ve been moping around this ship for days. You’ve been unable to solve a tactical problem I’m reasonably convinced is well within your capabilities and now I’m starting to think that the reason why is that your head is simply not in the game. I get that balancing your duties with your personal life can be challenging, and I’m not claiming to have always stayed on the right side of that line. But damn it, Harry, this is unacceptable.”
Kim wanted to protest that it hadn’t been his idea. He knew better. The only thing worse than transgressing so grievously was refusing to accept responsibility for it. His instinct was to protect Nancy as best he could. He didn’t really understand what had just happened between them but it set off every internal alarm he had.
They were interrupted by the sound of the door chime.
“Enter,” Chakotay ordered.
Tuvok and Seven did so.
“I’m sorry to wake you, but I have a mission for the three of you, a complex one, and I want you ready to move out in the next few hours.”
To his credit, Kim gave his captain his complete attention as Chakotay laid out the work ahead of them on Sormana. He knew whatever was happening with Nancy needed his attention. He also knew that it didn’t matter until he had found a way to undo some of the damage he’d just done.
• • •
Commander B’Elanna Torres hadn’t been surprised when she received Chakotay’s contact. They hadn’t spoken about Conlon since Torres had expressed her concerns in his ready room just before he went to Sormana. Since then, between her misreading of Conlon’s intentions, the new issues that had arisen for the fleet, and caring for both of her children, she really hadn’t given the matter as much thought as it might have deserved. She hadn’t even found time to grill Harry about how his last conversation with Conlon had gone or how he felt about the “break” Conlon had decided to take from their relationship.
After shaking Tom gently awake and advising him that he was on call, Torres dressed quickly and hurried to Conlon’s quarters. She was granted immediate access and found the chief engineer seated on the edge of the bed tucked into a corner of her quarters beneath a long port. She had drawn both of her knees to her chest and though she looked up to acknowledge Torres’s entrance, she was clearly withdrawing further into herself. Apart from the starlight, the room was dark.
Torres took a moment to wonder if she should simply contact Counselor Cambridge. The few details Chakotay had provided of Conlon’s most recent indiscretion were enough to tell her that Nancy was out of control. Torres had little faith in her personal counseling abilities, but she had a great deal more in her heart. Seeing Nancy like this, she didn’t want to berate her or demand an explanation. She wanted to help. She wanted to make whatever was wrong better. She wanted to reach inside Conlon, find the pain that was eating her alive, and rip it out with her bare hands.
Warily, Torres moved to the bed and perched herself on its edge. “Several years ago, right around the middle of Voyager’s first tour out here when we’d finally managed to get word back to the Alpha Quadrant that we were alive, we received a huge transmission of messages from home. Chakotay got a letter from one of our old Maquis friends, Sveta. That’s how we learned that almost all of the Maquis were massacred by the Cardassians and the Dominion while we were lost in the Delta Quadrant. The ones who didn’t die were
in prison.
“I was furious at first. I had never been so angry and believe me, that’s saying something. But I didn’t know what to do with all of that anger. So I kept it inside. I continued doing my duty. I kept thinking it would go away if I just left it alone.
“It didn’t. Instead, by refusing to feel that pain, I lost the ability to feel anything. I thought that might be a problem. I didn’t realize it was just a symptom. I tried to solve it by putting myself in the most dangerous situations I could find. When our missions weren’t exciting enough, I created holodeck programs. I let aliens three times my size beat the living hell out of me on a daily basis. I broke I don’t know how many bones. It hurt, but at least it was something. The pain I inflicted on myself became the only assurance I had that I was still alive.
“I learned later that it’s called survivor’s guilt. Chakotay finally figured out what I was doing and forced me to accept the fact that I needed help. I haven’t thought about it in a long time, but it’s always there. Knowing that I could do that doesn’t ever go away. But I know now that no matter how bad things get, they could always be worse, because they have been.”
Torres sensed Conlon’s face turn toward her. She shifted her gaze and saw cold, dead eyes staring back at her. “Why are you telling me this now?” Conlon asked.
“I don’t know what’s happened to you,” Torres replied. “I just know that something is wrong and I want to help.”
Conlon turned away and again settled her gaze directly ahead. “Has Chakotay ordered me off duty?” Conlon asked.
“Not yet,” Torres replied. “He said he would leave that at my discretion as your immediate superior officer. He did recommend it in the event you were unwilling or unable to explain yourself.”
Conlon nodded thoughtfully. Finally she said, “It wasn’t Harry’s fault. I am the only one who should be held responsible. Make sure Chakotay knows that.”
“I will. But even if that’s true, I don’t understand. The captain’s ready room?”
“I honestly wasn’t paying that much attention to where we were, just that we were alone.”
Star Trek: Voyager: A Pocket Full of Lies Page 22