Seven stood stiffly, attempting to accept the admiral’s gratitude, but found it difficult to let go of her regret.
Janeway had stopped short of physical contact when Seven had begun to retreat. The intimacy Seven had shared with her, in what she had believed had been the admiral’s last moments of life, had been powerful, and like most intimate encounters, left an awkward vulnerability between them in the light of day. Finally Seven said, “You fought not once, but many times, to free me from the Borg. You gave me back my individuality and since then I have come to treasure it, even above perfection. To have attempted less for you would have been unimaginable.”
Janeway nodded, accepting Seven’s words.
Seven was tempted to close the distance between them with some gesture. A handshake seemed too impersonal; a hug, strangely forward. Kathryn Janeway had always held a place of maternal dominance for Seven, but without the physical bonding that traditionally accompanied the mother/daughter dynamic. The range of physical expressions familiar to them was rather limited. Seven found that the professional distance with which they had begun their relationship many years ago was the only option that offered any sense of ease. The time Seven had spent with her aunt on Earth had opened her to a wide range of expressions of familial love; Irene had never hesitated to greet Seven with a firm hug, and they often parted with a kiss on the cheek. In a few extreme moments, Janeway and Seven had expressed their mutual regard in similar gestures, but something Seven could not name, let alone explain, kept her rooted to the deck, several paces from the admiral.
Attempting to move beyond this uncomfortable revelation, Seven asked, “Was there a particular reason the Q spared you? I know that in your previous dealings with them you formed a personal relationship with Q, but this does seem extreme, even for them.”
“I am almost certain it is related to what happened to those four vessels and, quite likely, to Captain Eden.”
“Explain,” Seven requested.
A smile from Janeway assured Seven that for better and worse, they had just managed to bridge the distance between them. Were it not for the lingering pain of her absence, it might have been as if the last fourteen months had never happened.
• • •
Half an hour later, Kathryn Janeway found herself in a modified version of Voyager’s briefing room. She liked the changes, but its capacity to hold twenty made the seven people assembled there seem like a very small group. There, the admiral had greeted Tom Paris, B’Elanna Torres, and Harry Kim. Chakotay, Seven, and the Doctor stood by as they took turns expressing their astonished relief in repeated warm embraces and joyful tears.
Once the pleasantries were over, Janeway asked the group to focus their attention on the matter at hand. In the next few minutes, Captain Eden and Counselor Cambridge would join them. Janeway had suggested—Chakotay had agreed—that only these officers would be apprised of her return for the time being. Until the immediate crisis was resolved, the rest of the fleet could wait to be informed. The admiral would work with Eden while Chakotay managed his crew, implementing their joint recommendations.
Harry Kim gave voice to what might have been a mutual assumption. “You’re the ranking officer, Admiral. Shouldn’t you assume command of the fleet?”
Janeway was surprised at how easy it was for her to dismiss the notion. “At the moment, I am not your commanding officer and may well never be again. Captain Eden commands this fleet, and Captain Chakotay this vessel. Both of them have my full confidence and support. I am here because the Q who became my godson believes that the crisis we face now, we confronted once before and managed to overcome it. I intend to focus my activities solely on understanding the nature of this anomaly. More than seven hundred of our fellow officers might be lost, but I’m not willing to accept that. Three of our ships are now trapped, and a fourth was fully absorbed. I want those four ships back, with every single person now considered missing in action. I want whatever this thing is to return to wherever it came from, so that it can no longer threaten the safety of this universe. I no longer know the crew aboard Voyager as well as I once did. But I know all of you as well as I know myself. We’re a family and we’ve faced worse together.
“Later, when Command can be formally apprised of the change in our circumstances, they will determine our next course of action. Until then, I expect each of you to continue to serve your designated commanding officers with the same loyalty and passion you once served me. Is that understood?”
Nods all around the table confirmed that it was.
“Good,” she said, clasping her hands before her and resting them on the table. “Let’s get to work.”
Chapter Twenty-seven
VOYAGER
Captain Afsarah Eden sat at the head of the oblong conference table. To her right sat Admiral Janeway; to her left, Captain Chakotay. Beyond them, Paris, Torres, Seven, Cambridge, Kim, and the Doctor were assembled. Although they gave Eden their full and respectful attention, she was cognizant of a shift in the energy of the room. The fate of the trapped ships and the threat posed by the continuing expansion of the anomaly was foremost in everyone’s minds, but beneath their tense focus was a new, underlying, almost communal positive will. Eden had always privately believed that many of the extraordinary things the Voyager crew had accomplished in the Delta Quadrant had been the result of luck, and an absolute, somewhat reckless determination to wrestle success from the hands of anyone who dared to deny it to them. She knew this crew, and she knew their strengths. To see them in the presence of Kathryn Janeway was to understand exactly how, through some mysterious alchemy born of her particular command style, she focused her people’s strengths, while taking the option of failure off the table.
Grateful for this fierce determination, Eden couldn’t help but envy their confidence, and the woman whose mere existence upheld it.
“How can we be certain that the anomaly is the same one your uncles encountered, Captain?” B’Elanna asked, after Eden had summarized her discoveries at the Mikhal Outpost and the events that had led her there.
Eden knew it would be a stumbling block for the scientists in the room to accept what she said on faith alone.
“I saw the sensor readings Tallar and Jobin took in their first encounter with the anomaly they discovered in the Beta Quadrant. There is no doubt in my mind that their readings correlate precisely with ours.”
“Yes, but you saw this in a dream?” B’Elanna prodded.
“The captain’s perceptions may not conform to any experience of reality of which you are aware,” Cambridge interrupted, clearly offended on Eden’s behalf. “But allow me to assure you that I have witnessed her unique capabilities on several occasions. Everything she is telling you is accurate.”
“As have I,” the Doctor added.
“It’s all right,” Eden offered. “I understand this is difficult for you to accept.”
“I’ve had my own experience with the truths dreams can hold,” B’Elanna said, softening a bit. “I’m not saying it isn’t possible. It’s just a little convenient that the same time you were discovering the history of this ancient extragalactic race, four of our ships discover evidence of the Anschlasom’s actions tens of thousands of light-years from your location.”
“Does it matter?” Kim asked. “Whether the Anschlasom caused the anomaly or not, it’s here, and we have to figure out how to get our ships out of it.”
“Knowing that there are multiple potential access points to this realm throughout our universe does impact our understanding of its nature,” Seven replied. “Were it a discrete anomaly, we would make certain generalized assumptions. However, knowing that it extends from here to the Beta Quadrant, and possibly to the very edge of the universe, is significant in deciding on a course of action.”
“Agreed,” Janeway said briskly. “It is my understanding, and please correct me if I’m wrong,” she added with a deferential nod to Eden, “that you believe this realm underpins the entire multiverse.”<
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Eden nodded. “That is what the Anschlasom believed, and given their location when they pulled it into normal space-time, I’m inclined to agree.”
“And Q believes that Voyager actually encountered this anomaly in the timeline where it took us twenty-three years to get home?” Chakotay asked.
“My godson, yes.” Janeway nodded.
“Can we call him something else?” Paris interrupted. “Just for the sake of clarity?”
“How about Junior?” the Doctor offered. Seeing Janeway’s withering look, he said, “Well, isn’t that what his own father called him?”
“Fine,” Janeway allowed, though obviously with regret, “Junior’s existence prior to the choices made by myself and my future self at the transwarp hub was exactly that of every other Q. When we were together in the Continuum, I experienced this, so I’m not just taking his word for it. After we altered the timeline—for worse, it seems—a rather massive shift occurred across all existing timelines. At that point, Junior ceased to be able to access any point in the future beyond our present day. I’ve gone back through what little I recall of what my future counterpart told me of her experiences in the Delta Quadrant, and one thing bothers me.”
“What was that?” Chakotay asked.
“She spoke of an encounter during which Seven would be killed. If I’m remembering correctly, the timing of that encounter correlates almost exactly with where we are now.”
“I don’t understand,” Paris was the first to admit.
“If we had stayed on our course, and never encountered the future Admiral Janeway, it would be now that we would be facing whatever it was that took Seven’s life,” Janeway clarified.
“And why does that matter?” Eden inquired, genuinely curious.
“Because I can count on one hand the types of missions I would have considered important enough to have risked my crew’s lives,” Janeway replied firmly. “Facing the possible end of all space-time is right at the top of that very short list.”
Cambridge, who was seated beside Seven, connected the dots. “You believe there is some conscious external force ordering events such that regardless of our actions, across all timelines, Voyager, or perhaps just you, Admiral, are fated to confront this anomaly at this precise moment?”
“I’m not sure I would go that far,” Janeway admitted, “but I’m also not ruling it out. This is the point in time where Junior’s existence hangs in the balance. If there is a bigger problem out there that could account for it, I don’t want to know about it.”
“Why don’t the rest of the Q know about it?” Kim piped up. “Don’t they claim to be omniscient? And if it might cost a Q his life, shouldn’t they be taking an interest?”
“That is honestly one of the most disturbing parts of all of this,” Janeway replied. “They should know. If any of us were in their position, I believe we would be marshaling whatever forces we command to counter the effects of this thing. That only Junior seems to be aware of it suggests it may be beyond the rest of the Q Continuum.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” Chakotay acknowledged.
“Nor do I,” Janeway agreed. “My godson is a unique individual. He is the only Q ever created by two Q. The only other Q not created at the dawn of time was born of two Q who had become human. There was doubt among the Q that this offspring would even have the Q’s powers.
“While aiding Junior in his investigation, she apparently disappeared, and now he is the only member of the Continuum who is aware that she ever existed.”
“So we’re facing something that appears to have the potential to destroy not only the lives of every being now in existence, but also the lives of at least two theoretically immortal beings,” Cambridge said. “And you and this Junior are convinced that another version of Voyager encountered the same problem and somehow eliminated this threat?”
“We’re pretty good,” Chakotay offered semi-seriously.
“We are,” Janeway agreed, matching his tone. “But my guess is that whatever we confronted as a single vessel far from home probably wasn’t quite as extensive as the anomaly now before us. My question is,” and at this she turned directly to Seven and B’Elanna, “if we had come across this anomaly in the same form our other fleet vessels first discovered it, what do you think we would have done?”
“Noted it in our logs and steered clear of it?” Paris suggested wryly.
“Ha,” Kim scoffed. “Not likely.”
Seven and B’Elanna turned to face one another and for a moment, Eden almost felt they were discussing the question telepathically. Finally, Seven said, “While it is difficult to believe, especially now that we have seen its destructive potential, we might have merely scanned it, and concluded it was unique.”
“You would have thrown every exotic particle field its way to see what stuck,” B’Elanna chided her.
“Probably,” Seven agreed, “but our fellow ships didn’t get that far before the anomaly altered its configuration.”
“We would likely have sent a probe in,” Janeway suggested.
“If it had reacted to the probe in the same manner it did with the ships, we might have recognized it as an unstable rift in the fabric of space-time,” Seven stated.
“Would you have tried to close it?” Eden asked.
Considering this, Janeway admitted, “Probably. We would have done everything in our power to eliminate the threat it poses to surrounding space.”
“How?” Eden asked.
“I don’t know,” Janeway replied. “But we need an answer to that question, because I don’t believe anything else will restore stability to the multiverse.”
After a short pause B’Elanna said, “I need a closer look. All we’ve been able to discover is what the anomaly isn’t. We need to know exactly what it is.”
“I agree,” Eden said. “The Anschlasom believed it was the absolute end of all existence. None of us know how the universe will end. It’s a question the best minds in the Federation still ponder. There are many divergent theories, but most agree that the universe is in a state of constant expansion that will eventually result in a redistribution of energy, matter, and gravitational forces that will give rise to either extremely high or low temperatures. However, the Anschlasom discovered another outcome. What if we accept that they were right?”
“Go on,” Janeway encouraged.
“If the universe cannot expand indefinitely,” Eden began, “then at some point gravity can stop the expansion of the universe, and begin to contract it. The Anschlasom might well have been the first sentient race to encounter that effect.”
Here, Seven of Nine shook her head. “Very few notable scientists still give credence to the theory of a closed universe. Our understanding of the existence of multiple universes suggests that even if some of them were effectively closed, others remain open and expand indefinitely.”
“You said,” Janeway interjected, “that the Anschlasom didn’t discover the anomaly, that they brought it into our reality.”
“What are you getting at, Admiral?” B’Elanna asked.
Janeway sighed. “It’s difficult to describe, but while I was within the Q Continuum, I felt connected to every facet of the multiverse. My sense was that their continuum somehow runs throughout everything that is, existing in all places simultaneously.”
“Do you believe that the Anschlasom somehow brought part of that Q Continuum into normal space?” Eden asked.
“If they did, I can’t imagine that the Q wouldn’t know about it,” Janeway replied thoughtfully. “But who’s to say that the Q Continuum is the only realm that has this property? There could be another.”
“There could be countless others,” Cambridge noted.
“The only time we entered the Q Continuum was with the assistance of Junior’s mother, through a supernova created by their ongoing conflict,” Kim interjected. “If the Anschlasom had technology capable of creating interstellar events of that magnitude, they could theoretically ha
ve created an entry point.”
“So it’s like the Q Continuum, but not the Q Continuum,” Paris ventured.
“We need to test this theory,” Seven said. “We need to conduct further studies from the nearest safe access point to the anomaly.”
“We can’t get much closer than we are right now,” Chakotay warned.
“We could transport to one of the trapped ships,” Eden offered. “A barrier exists on each ship dividing normal space from the anomaly, and the side in normal space remains habitable.”
“I’ll go,” B’Elanna volunteered.
“And I will accompany you,” Eden stated.
Cambridge sighed quietly. As he met Eden’s eyes, she saw his resigned concern. “With your permission, Captain?” he asked.
“I’m fine, Counselor,” she said curtly.
“I never said you weren’t,” he replied. “But we know that this anomaly has unusual effects on you, and given that, I think we should err on the side of caution.”
Eden turned to Janeway. “It’s your call, Captain,” the admiral said.
“Very well.” Eden nodded. “Commander Torres, Counselor Cambridge, and I will board the Quirinal, as it is the most intact vessel. Seven, brief Patel and Conlon on our new premise. Captain Chakotay, keep Voyager out of harm’s way.”
“Understood,” Chakotay replied.
“Dismissed,” Eden said, bringing the briefing to a close.
• • •
As everyone rose to return to their posts, Kathryn was conscious of a few pangs of regret. Restricting her access to the rest of the crew was appropriate for the time being, but it also meant the assistance she could offer was limited. She had been relieved that her unexpected return had not thrown those closest to her into chaos and privately reminded herself how many times they had embraced the fact that “weird” was part of their job. But she was concerned by the one significant fact Captain Eden had chosen to withhold.
“Fleet Commander?” she said before Eden had left the table.
Star Trek: Voyager - 041 - The Eternal Tide Page 28