Star Trek: Voyager - 043 - Acts of Contrition

by Kirsten Beyer

  Farkas nodded. “Deonil didn’t suspect anything. But the Confederacy doesn’t see these people as anything more than a nuisance. The intel confirmed that suspicion, which is exactly what I’d do if I wanted to catch a superior force off guard.”

  “Do you have any sense of what their true agenda might be?”

  “None,” Farkas replied. “There was no discussion of a target beyond the Gateway, which makes no sense. Why are they here? What do they want? Fifteen ships, no matter how well armed, can’t take the First World, let alone the Confederacy.”

  “I agree,” Janeway said.

  Both women turned their heads automatically toward the door when a soft chime sounded.

  “Come,” Farkas ordered.

  Janeway’s Vulcan aide entered the room soundlessly and moved directly to the admiral.

  “What is it, Decan?”

  “Presider Cin wishes to speak with you, Admiral,” Decan replied.

  “I’ll take it in my quarters,” Janeway said, nodding to Farkas as she stepped toward the door.

  “Not via subspace,” Decan quickly corrected her assumption. “She is transporting directly here via a protector and will arrive momentarily.”

  “She’s coming alone?” Janeway asked.

  “And specifically requested that we not confirm her arrival with her office. She indicated that she had a personal matter to discuss,” Decan said, adding, “in private.”

  Janeway turned back to Farkas. “Have security meet the presider when she arrives and escort her to my office. Tell them to wait outside the door until our discussions are concluded.”

  “Understood, Admiral,” Farkas said.

  “Thank you, Captain,” Janeway said.

  “Any time,” Farkas assured her.

  Chapter Twenty

  SAN FRANCISCO

  As best Tom Paris could tell, the parade of character witnesses both he and his mother had provided had been a wash. Paris feared that Ozimat might give more weight to his sisters’ testimony. However, there were dozens of statements provided by Paris and his wife’s former friends and colleagues that balanced it out.

  Once everyone had taken their seats, Ozimat opened the new day’s proceedings. “After yesterday’s testimony it is clear to me that both Mrs. Paris and Commander Paris share the ability to inspire loyalty in others. This is a good thing. It suggests that no matter how this issue is ultimately resolved, a number of people will be standing by to lend their support.

  “It is still my belief that this matter would be best resolved between the two parties. I will render a judgment in the event that proves impossible. But I urge both of you to consider all that was said yesterday, not on your own accounts, but on each other’s. Perhaps the wisdom of those closest to you will help you find a way through this current conflict.”

  The door Ozimat used to enter the chamber slid open, and an officer of the court emerged. He approached the mediator and whispered something softly to him. Ozimat nodded.

  “Lieutenant Shaw, did you intend to call Mister John Torres to speak on Commander Paris’s behalf?”

  “No, Your Honor,” Shaw replied. “Mister Paris advised me that his wife would prefer that her father not be notified of these proceedings.”

  “As Miral’s grandfather, he would have been included in all notifications from the Family Court,” Ozimat said. He then sat back, clasping his hands together. After a long pause, he said, “Would either of you object to hearing from Mister Torres?”

  “Mrs. Paris does not object,” Clancy replied immediately, though the look on Julia’s face suggested otherwise.

  Shaw looked at Paris. He was torn. Part of him wanted very much to hear what the father-in-law he’d met only a few times had to say. The rest of him feared that if John Torres’s testimony did anything to harm his position now, B’Elanna would never forgive either of them.

  Finally, Paris said, “Mister Torres is Miral’s and my future son’s grandfather. My wife has not enjoyed a close relationship to him for most of her life. But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s part of our family. We should hear what he has to say.”

  “I agree,” Ozimat concurred. He nodded to the officer, and a few minutes later, John Torres was ushered into the room.

  He hadn’t aged much since the last time Paris had seen him. His hair was more gray than brown, but his face retained the youthful vitality Paris remembered: a genetic gift B’Elanna had inherited from him. He extended a hand to Paris before sitting. Paris accepted it with an awkward smile. His mother stared at Torres with curious eyes.

  “Thank you for joining us, Mister Torres,” Ozimat said once he was settled. “You indicated that you wished to address the parties in this matter?”

  “I do. Thank you,” Torres said. He seemed nervous, and he had always been on the soft-spoken side. “The documents I received from the court indicate that Tom’s mother is asking for custody of my granddaughter. I was a little shocked to hear that, as, last I heard, my granddaughter was dead.”

  “You didn’t tell him?” Julia asked of Tom, aghast.

  “B’Elanna and I have always agreed that it was up to her to share whatever she felt appropriate with her father. As you know, we were assured of Miral’s safety only a few months ago. I am sure B’Elanna intended to tell her father in her own time and in whatever manner she thought best,” Paris replied.

  Torres’s eyes met Paris’s. There was neither joy nor accusation in them. “The last time I saw my daughter and granddaughter, they were about to leave Earth on that shuttle she built. She told me that Miral was still in danger and that they were leaving to keep her safe. She promised she would never allow anything to happen to them. I thought she broke that promise when she died. I realize now that she didn’t. You reported them dead in order to protect them, didn’t you?” he asked of Paris.

  “It was a little more complicated than that, but in a nutshell, yes,” Paris replied.

  Torres nodded. “I came here today to assure myself of that. Thank you.”

  “I would have . . .” Paris began.

  “Suggested B’Elanna contact me eventually?” Torres asked warily.

  “I’m sorry, John,” Paris said.

  “Don’t be,” Torres said. “Any amount of time my daughter sees fit to give me is more than I deserve. I know that.”

  Turning his attention to Julia, Torres asked, “Is that why you’re here? Because they lied about Miral’s death?”

  “Not entirely,” Julia said. “There have been a number of incidents that led me to conclude that Miral would be better off in the care of someone who does not suffer from my son’s character defects.”

  “And my daughter’s?” Torres asked evenly.

  “I gave your daughter my unconditional love and respect. She repaid that time and again with lies,” Julia said.

  “I see,” Torres said.

  After a long pause, Ozimat said, “Is there anything else you wish to add, Mister Torres?”

  “Yes,” he replied. “My daughter is who she is because her mother and I made her that way. We were unable to create a home in which she could thrive. The differences between us only grew larger and louder the longer we were together. I decided B’Elanna would be better off not living in a war zone. It was painful to leave her. But I told myself it was in her best interest as well as my own.

  “Looking back, I don’t know if that was true. If B’Elanna has a hard time trusting people, even her family, it’s because she learned, from me, that trust leads to disappointment. I know she’s an adult now and is responsible for her own choices. But I also know that the wounds we inflict on our children are permanent. They may learn to live with them. They may overcome them. They may forgive them. But they can never be erased.

  “Mrs. Paris,” Torres said, meeting her eyes. “I have no doubt that you could provide a safe and stable home for Miral, just as my wife did for B’Elanna. But it will never be the home Miral could have with her parents. B’Elanna chose Tom to sh
are her life with, and in my opinion, she couldn’t have chosen better. Even when she told me they were separating, she assured me it was temporary and necessary. Apparently, they succeeded in keeping everyone safe until the threat to Miral’s life was over. That they lied to me to do it doesn’t make me think less of Tom. It makes me think more of him.

  “Unless I’ve missed something, I don’t think Miral should ever again be separated from her father or her mother. I’ve lived that life. I know what it did to my daughter. I really can’t bear the thought of that history repeating itself with Miral. She needs her mother. She needs her father. Please reconsider what you’re doing here.”

  Julia’s eyes remained locked with his as she said, “I have considered it, Mister Torres. I can assure you that if I did not think it was in Miral’s best interest, I would not be here.”

  Torres turned back to Paris. “The next time you see them, give B’Elanna and Miral my love.”

  “I will.”

  As Torres started to rise, Paris added, “You know, Miral’s favorite bedtime story is Timmy and the Targ.”

  Torres smiled, incredulous. “Lana still has that?”

  Paris nodded.

  “Thank you, Tom.”

  “Thank you for coming, Mister Torres,” Ozimat said. Once Torres had left, he continued: “Everything that you’ve said to each other since this mediation began has been in the presence of myself and your representatives. We’re going to give you the room now, for as long as you need it. Nothing you say will be recorded or relayed to me. I want you two to talk to each other.”

  “Your Honor,” Clancy began.

  “It’s fine,” Julia said softly.

  Paris looked to Shaw. The lieutenant nodded to Ozimat but whispered in Paris’s ear as he rose: “You’ve got this. Don’t screw it up.”

  “I thought we agreed that was my specialty,” Paris said quietly.

  Shaw laughed lightly, shaking his head as he gave Paris’s shoulder a firm squeeze.

  Finally, the room was theirs.

  For a long time, neither of them spoke. Then both began to speak at the same moment.

  “Tom, I . . .”

  “Look, Mom . . .”

  Julia smiled in spite of herself.

  “Go ahead,” Paris said.

  Julia sighed wearily. “I don’t expect you to understand this. You don’t know yet what it’s like to pour your entire life into a child, only to watch that child fail time and again to live up to your expectations. I don’t know where I went wrong with you, Tom, but I did. Mister Torres was right about that much. I blame myself for what you have become, just he does for B’Elanna. But that doesn’t change the fact that we are here now. Your children need safety and stability. Regardless of my other concerns, you and B’Elanna have chosen to give your lives to Starfleet. You know I honor that choice. But it is no life for your children. Give them to me. You know what they’ll have here. You know how I will cherish them. When you’re home, you and B’Elanna will be welcome to see them. Someday they’ll appreciate the sacrifice you were willing to make. Your father made the same one, and you understood eventually.”

  “No, I didn’t,” Paris said. “I accepted it because I had no choice, but even now I don’t understand it.”

  “Your father loved you dearly. He set the example for you to follow. He held himself to the highest standards.”

  “Standards are important, Mom,” Paris agreed. “But they don’t fill the emptiness. That’s what you’re asking me to create in my children: a permanent empty space where the love I would give them should be.”

  “Tom—”

  “No,” Paris said. “I’ve listened. I’ve heard you. I get that nothing I can say is going to change your mind. So I’m just going to say this.

  “I love you, Mom. I’m sorry I haven’t been the son you wanted, or the son you thought you deserved. I’m sorry you can’t see how much I hated hurting you the way I did. I’m sorry you don’t understand that it had nothing to do with you. I’m sorry your only grandchildren aren’t going to spend their holidays and their summer breaks with you in Montecito. I’m sorry that the choice you made to make this claim has probably irrevocably destroyed any chance you might have of regaining B’Elanna’s trust. I’m sorry Dad died and left you alone.

  “But I learned more than you know from Owen Paris. I learned that trying to live up to imagined expectations is a waste of energy. I learned that nothing can replace the time I spend with my daughter every day. I learned much too late that his way of loving me was just his way. I learned too late that he loved me at all. He chose his career over his children. He left us with you, and you are a great mom. But every day he wasn’t there was another day I spent wondering what I had done wrong and why he didn’t care enough to be with me.

  “My children are never going to wonder that. I’m going to be there for every birthday, every school assembly, every science fair, every bad grade, every fight on the playground, every good-night kiss, every messy, hard, frustrating, perfect moment of it.

  “I can’t let them go, Mom. I won’t.”

  Julia’s face hardened. “You will, if the court orders it.”

  No, I really won’t, Paris did not say aloud.

  When Ozimat and the attorneys returned, the mediator confirmed that no settlement had been reached between them. He advised them that it would take several days for him to make a final determination and that they would be advised when his ruling had been filed.

  Until then, there was nothing more to do but wait.

  CORIDAN

  Ria was disappointed when she received the order. The probability that it would eventually come was high. She was surprised it had taken this long. But in her ten months of service she had accomplished all that had been asked of her, and it was inappropriate to wish for more.

  Terminate.

  The word should have filled her with terror.

  Instead, it filled her with purpose.

  Her identification badge had been checked when she entered the hospital, as it was every morning. She considered completing her morning rounds before acting on her instructions, but as she had no idea why the order had been given, she opted to forgo checking in at her normal duty station.

  Instead, she walked through the first-floor admissions area as she always had, nodding in greeting to several familiar faces. Upon entering the turbolift, she requested the subbasement. A quick turn to the right, once the door had slid open, brought her to another set of doors. Beyond them lay the main hub of the central environmental controls.

  Shift change was under way, so few custodians anxious to end their night’s work paid her any attention. The mechanism she had come to activate had been put in place nine months earlier and required only a quick visual check and the use of a duplicate command code to order the temperature increase that would activate the mechanism and automatically deploy its contents within the next few hours.

  Once this task was complete, she again entered the turbolift and requested access to the fourteenth floor. The hallways here were very busy, as usual. The waiting areas were filled with both patients and individuals who had not been admitted but had been ordered to be tested in one of this level’s high-resolution scanning devices.

  Again, few paid her any attention. One notable exception was Doctor Beemz. The moment she caught his eye he stopped examining the padd he was holding and stared at her. He then whispered something to the nurse beside him, and she also stopped what she had been doing and made a quick call on the hospital’s secure comm line.

  This simple act filled Ria with urgency. Hurrying her steps, she made her way to the far end of the main hall and turned left.

  “Stop where you are!” an unfamiliar voice sounded from behind as she turned the corner.

  Ria did not stop, nor did she turn around. Instead she slipped into the nearest chamber that would suit her needs, the one holding the facility’s largest scanner, and sealed the door to the outer safety chamber where the doct
ors or nurses running the scanner were protected from any unanticipated bleed from the device when it was in use.

  She then activated the scanner. The moment it was fully operational, she set the level at maximum and ordered continuous operation, locking out any manual override.

  She stepped through the safety hatch between the operation center and the scanner and sealed it from the inside. The room was already uncomfortably warm and there was a noticeable tingle in the air that made her ears ring and her head ache.

  Turning, Ria saw several individuals arriving at the transparent aluminum viewing window separating the operation center from the scanner. Most were dressed in security uniforms. One was pounding on the window, obviously shouting her name. Another worked the panel, desperate to shut the scanner down. Perhaps they did not realize that she knew precisely what she was doing.

  Two faces were new to her. Both wore blue Starfleet science uniforms. One was human, a slight, pale woman with blond hair. The other was an alien humanoid with a large cranium, flattened along the side lobes, an upturned nose, and dark brown mottled skin.

  They did not seek to stop her. They merely stared at her, their eyes boring into hers.

  The woman’s eyes were the fiercest. They were the last she saw as the scanner finally overloaded and an explosion ended Ria’s life on Coridan.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  VOYAGER

  The question Captain Chakotay had to answer was this: Would destroying the Unmarked ship now attempting to destroy Voyager be construed by the Confederacy as aiding them against their enemy or a lack of faith in their abilities? As important, would entering this fight on the side of the Confederacy make other representatives of the Unmarked more or less likely to target Federation ships in the future?

  Chakotay was obligated to defend his ship, no matter what the exigent circumstances. Destruction of one’s vessel was an option, but only as a last resort. Every other choice before him now was going to seriously complicate the Federation’s relationship with the Confederacy, and quite possibly Chakotay’s personal relationship with General Mattings.