by Mosaic
And just how, Tuvok wondered, should this species be categorized: as humanoid or avian? It possessed qualities of each in a way no one had ever seen before. Kim, speaking excitedly, ran down the possibilities. "In Earth's development, modern birds began to branch off from reptiles shortly after the first mammals appeared. It's certainly possible on some planets there could have been a branch of avian mammals that eventually evolved into winged humanoids."
Tuvok looked at the faces of his group, all of which reflected a reverence for this burial place. It was, he felt, quite appropriate. He scanned one of the skeletons.
"The cranium of this being suggests a large brain; in all likelihood they were intelligent. I would suggest this burial grouping was arranged by similar beings, and that these creatures do not represent intelligent animals cared for, and buried, by a higher order."
"The grouping indicates a death ritual, doesn't it?" Kim's brow was furrowed in concentration. He seemed to have been particularly affected by the discovery.
"Indeed. There are a number of inferences to be drawn from what we see here: this may be a family group; it might represent a being of some social power and his or her subordinates; or it may represent the victims of a particular disaster-plague, perhaps, or disease. Without further information it would be impossible to make a clear determination."
"There don't seem to be any artifacts buried with them." This was from Kes, who as always was curious about everything.
"Quite right. And again, there are inferences one can make, but little way to delimit them without more evidence."
"Look at that, Mr. Vulcan." Tuvok lifted his head to see Neelix pointing at something a hundred meters distant. It was another spire, deep blue like the first. It had not been visible from their original position; in fact, it would only be visible from where they were standing-near the foot of the first spire.
"It is common in many species to link burial sites with visual markers," suggested Tuvok. "We may be able to follow a trail of such markers until we arrive at a sacred site."
"If we find that's the case, it would be the first documented evidence of such behavior in the Delta Quadrant," said Ensign Greta Kale, a young woman with blond hair, dark brown eyes, and a sprinkling of the spots humans called "freckles" across her nose. "What does that kind of commonalty say about the origin of all species?"
It was an insightful question, but Tuvok didn't look forward to answering it. There was a great deal of contro versy about that very matter. Why were there more simi larities than differences among most species? It argued for some original link, a commonalty of origin among the galaxy's species that had never been satisfactorily ad dressed. Many believed that an alien group from another galaxy had "seeded" the primordial soup of all the planets at the point when the building blocks that would produce life first began to develop. Others believed that a powerful, unseen supreme being had created life, full blown, in an instant. Tuvok himself preferred a more scientific explanation: basic matter-the elements and their various molecular combinations-from which the galaxy was formed was common. These building blocks would have been distributed throughout the galaxy as stars and planets were formed. Why would it not follow, then, that the stuff from which life developed had many common qualities, and that the development of humanoids along similar lines was to be expected, rather than questioned? "I will let you make your own judgment about that, Ensign, based on your individual beliefs." Kale smiled at him; apparently it was the answer she had expected.
"Can we do it, Lieutenant? Follow the marker, see if there's a trail?" Kim looked at him with what could only be described as eagerness. The young man was clearly caught up in this mystery and wanted to pursue it. "I see no reason not to," answered Tuvok evenly. But Neelix jumped in. "I must remind you that our primary mission is to gather food supplies. This paleontological stuff is very interesting, of course-I myself am an amateur archaeologist of some experience-but let us not lose sight of our priorities."
"Quite right, Mr. Neelix. I suggest you detail a group of ten and scout the area for foodstuffs. I will take the others on a scientific investigation."
"Fine. Kes, you're with me-was
"Oh, no. I'm going with Tuvok." Tuvok, like Neelix, noted her tone of voice and knew she was determined. Neelix nodded and quickly counted out the ten who would be with him. Tuvok was aware that they all seemed disappointed, but unlike Kes, they were too steeped in Starfleet discipline to refuse. Neelix led his small band away from the mound and began scanning for edible plant forms. Harry Kim led the others, eagerly marching toward the second spire, eyes scanning upward as though he might suddenly spot one of the soaring creatures who had once sailed these skies. Tuvok continued to check his tricorder frequently.
There was no inkling of the real danger that would come from those skies.
It could not have been more sudden or unexpected. One minute Janeway was in her ready room, relaxing with vegetable bouillon while reviewing personnel reports. Strictly speaking, that wasn't her responsibility; the first officer's review was all that was officially required. But Janeway enjoyed the process, finding that it drew her closer to her crew. If a junior officer in quantum mechanics was having a rough week, she wanted to know about it. Lunch with the captain, or a private chat over afternoon tea, could work wonders in reviving flagging confidence or dispelling a touch of homesickness.
A dull ache had burrowed its way just behind her eyes. She hadn't slept well last night, having revisited the house with many rooms and finding, inevitably, the closed door. After that, she had tossed restlessly, trying to find the position that would induce sleep. When that failed, she had risen early and now, several hours later, was feeling the consequences of the fretful night.
Then there was Tom Paris' startled voice over the comm-"Bridge to Captain, we have a rapidly approaching"-and then a horrendous explosion. Sparks flew from her monitor. The lights went out entirely and then were replaced with low-level emergency lighting. Janeway made her way to the door even as the ship shuddered and jolted, threatening to throw her off balance.
The doors flew open at her approach and she stumbled onto the bridge. "Report," she barked, noting as she did that smoke was filling the space; one officer was unconscious on the ground.
"A Kazon vessel, Captain. It stayed in high warp until the last second, then dropped out and attacked. We were sitting ducks." She knew Chakotay was already handling the situation, rerouting power, activating defensive systems, and assigning damage control.
"Taking evasive action, Captain." Tom Paris' hands flew over his controls as he skilfully maneuvered the ship. "But we've taken damage to the impulse engines."
"Shields at fifty-seven percent, hull breaches on decks four and fifteen. There are reports of casualties on all decks," Lieutenant Rollins said crisply; he was filling in for Tuvok at Tactical. "Prepare to return fire. Ready forward phaser banks." Janeway swung into action, her mind automatically moving in!combat mode. "Fire at will, Mr. Rollins."
"Aye, Captain, firing forward-was
A sudden volley of explosions overwhelmed the rest of what he said. She couldn't even be sure he had fired the phasers. In spite of Paris' manuevers at the conn, the Kazon ship was still with them. Two consoles exploded and several more went dead. Smoke battled the filtering system and won.
"Shields at thirty-four percent. Hull breaches on decks three through fifteen. Weapons arrays off-line."
"Captain, we can't hold out. We'd better try to get out of here." Chakotay's voice was implacable as he suggested retreat. "Agreed, Captain," chimed in Paris. "At least we've got warp drive now; who knows how much longer before we're dead in the water?"
Janeway hesitated briefly. The away team was still on the planet. She didn't want to abandon them, but if they stayed where they were they could be destroyed, and certainly of no help to the crew on the ground if that happened.
"Janeway to Tuvok," she intoned, but there was no reply. "The long-range comm system is down, Captain," said
Rollins. Another bone-shuddering jolt rattled them, and Janeway wasted no more time. "Set a course for that planetary nebula we passed, Lieutenant. Then put us into rapid high warp-let's see if we can't catch them napping."
"Yes, ma'am." Janeway noted that Paris smiled slightly; she knew there was nothing he enjoyed more than outfoxing an enemy with his piloting skills. And she also realized he knew she wasn't abandoning Harry and the othersshe wouldn't quit until she had them back. Now they had to lick their wounds and make repairs, and taking cover in the nebula was the only prudent course.
The sudden leap to warp did indeed catch the Kazon by surprise; Voyager had several minutes' advantage and was able to enter the planetary nebula, which, with its clumps of star matter millions of kilometers across, offered a perfect hiding place. They entered the massive, stately plumes of gas and were safely concealed deep within the dark dust lanes of the nebula before the Kazon ships realized what had happened. Janeway made sure repair teams were in action, checked with the doctor as to the number of wounded and the severity of their injuries, then met with the bridge officers. Her plan was straightforward enough: make repairs and regain strength, then get back to the planet as soon as possible, hoping to outmaneuver the Kazon and beam up their away team.
She was amused when Chakotay "ordered" her to her quarters; it was imperative for all of them to rest while they could-they'd need to be at their sharpest when they headed back to the planet-but she felt slightly like a child being told to take a nap. And again, she couldn't sleep. She tried going through all the exercises and procedures she had developed over the years for bouts of insomnia: a cool, darkened room, breathing patterns, relaxation exercises, meditation-and when all else failed, a glass of warm milk. But in spite of her efforts to quiet her mind, one thought came crowding back. Her crew was stranded. She had to get them back. It was the second time in as many months that she had faced this problem and the fiftieth since they'd been flung to the Delta Quadrant. Her life since then had been a series of challenges and crises, and most of her energies had gone into coping with them. She'd been tested time and again, pushed to limits she wasn't sure she could withstand, and then pushed further. Would it ever let up? Would there ever be a day that she wasn't called upon to solve some insoluble problem, to overcome some life-threatening obstacle? The thought of throwing up her hands, acknowledging that she was too tired and weak and simply didn't have anything left to give-that thought became tempting. She was tired of challenges. There was a time when they energized her, but now they threatened to overwhelm. She wanted to feel safe again, secure and protected, knowing someone else was watching out for things....
CHAPTER 2
CROUCHED WITHIN THE KNEEHOLE OF HER FATHER'S DESK, four-year-old Kathryn listened to the sound of the tocktock-tock of the grandfather clock in his office.
She was careful not to make a sound, for she knew her father needed to concentrate, and a small child fidgeting at his feet would have distracted him. He was working-he was always working-on a starship design, and the various clicks and beeps of his padd punctuated the silence in the room, offering odd counterpoint to the sonorous clock. Kathryn loved hearing the sounds of the padd; they were oddly soothing, a reminder that he was there, a connection to him. Sometimes she pretended the sounds were in fact a private code they shared, that he was sending her messages that no one else could interpret.
"Daddy to Goldenbird... my ETA is fifteen minutes... rendezvous with me in my study at sixteen hundred hours... this is top secret... Daddy out. his
Kathryn smiled as she snuggled in the kneehole. Maybe it would be only fifteen minutes more, maybe it would be longer. But the reward for her patience and stillness would be worth it: she and Daddy would do their games. She would have him to herself for a time. And for that, Kathryn would gladly have sat quietly under the desk for hours. She'd been spending a lot of time in Daddy's study lately, ever since Your Sister had come to their house. Your Sister didn't seem to be much more than a wriggling movement inside a soft blanket, but her arrival had had a profound effect on the household. Mama was hardly ever in evidence now, except when she walked with the small bundle in the blanket over her shoulder, patting its back and singing softly to it. So far, Kathryn had not heard Mama singing her song to Your Sister, but knew that was because Mama and Daddy had not yet decided on a name for this new presence. Kathryn had her own thoughts about that, but so far no one had asked her. Her father's leg shifted slightly next to her and she sat up quickly. Did this mean he was almost done? Was he closing up his padd and getting ready for the games? She held her breath, afraid of causing distraction, but she continued to hear the sounds of the padd. Daddy wasn't ready yet. She settled back again, mind running over the games, practicing, readying herself so she would be perfect. She intended to surprise Daddy by knowing every single thing today-and even more-so he would ruffle her hair and say, "That's my Goldenbird... what a clever girl you are!" The prospect of hearing those words made her heart quicken.
She sat like that, contained and quiet, for another half hour. She could tell because the grandfather clock chimed every fifteen minutes, and there were four fifteen minutes in each hour. Two of them was half an hour. She had figured that out when she was three.
She heard a familiar click and realized that Daddy had snapped shut his padd. She held her breath for a moment, for sometimes he would open another, but she saw his legs withdrawing from the desk. He was done, and she knew exactly what would happen next.
Now she heard him pacing the room, as though looking for something. "No, not there," he intoned, and she smiled. A few seconds later, he said, with a hint of exasperation, "Not there either. Hmmmmm."
Her smile grew as she listened to this careful ritual. "I could swear I heard a little bird in this room... but I can't find her. Where could she be? Is she hiding in the replicator?"
Now Kathryn had to cover her mouth with her handsin the replicator! How silly, how could she do that? She felt a giggle building. "Oh-oh... maybe she got into the fish tank... she's after my African lionfish... you naughty bird, you'd better not bother my lionfish!" Now the giggle was starting to tickle her throat; she tried to push it down and instead it came out through her nose as a little snort. "What's that? What did I just hear?" His mock-stern voice moved closer to her. She scrunched into the tiniest ball she could become and covered her face with her hands. Then she heard his voice right next to her. "Why... it's a bird all right. It's a Goldenbird, and she's hiding under my desk!"
Now Kathryn looked up as she felt his hands on her, pulling her out. She shrieked with glee as he picked her up effortlessly and swung her around the room. "Goldenbird is flying... all around the room... up... and down... and down... and up..." Kathryn's laughter pealed as her father swung her in delicious circles and dips and then finally lowered her to the floor.
"More, Daddy, more," she pleaded, but he knelt down close to her. "I'm sorry, but we don't give free rides around here. What do you have to do for a ride?"
"Earn it."
"And how do you do that?"
"Win the games."
"Are you ready?"
"Yes, Daddy, all ready."
His wonderful face looked down at her. Gray eyes twinkled, sandy brown hair fell over his forehead. Daddy's face always looked happy, she thought. "Very well. Did you work on the sevens?"
Kathryn took a breath, plunged into the scary unknown. "I worked on the sevens... and the eights. And the nines."
His look of amazement was reward enough for all the work she'd done. She giggled again, delighted that she'd surprised him. She knew he'd never have expected her to learn so much.
"Eights and nines, eh? Those are very big numbers for a little girl. Are you sure you want to take this chance? You'll win your ride if you just get the sevens."
"I'm ready. I can do it."
"But if you make a mistake on the eights or nines... no ride."
"I know."
He smiled, and his look of genuine pride made
her shiver. "Well, then. Nine times eight?"
"Seventy-two."
"Eight times seven?"
"Fifty-six."
"Seven times four."
"Twenty-eight."
"Eight times eight."
"Sixty-four."
"Nine times... eleven."
She paled. They'd never gone past the tens. She had memorized everything up to a multiple of ten, but eleven represented an area of computation she'd never considered.
"That's not fair, Daddy. We've never done elevens."
"You've proven you can memorize very well. But it's important you learn how to think about numbers. I'm expecting you to move to the next level of mathematics."
Her mind threatened to panic. She couldn't do this, he was betraying her. How could she answer something she'd never even thought of? She would have to admit to him that she couldn't do it.