Star Trek: Voyager - 041 - The Eternal Tide

by Kirsten Beyer

“And can we do that?” Kim asked dubiously.

  Nancy Conlon smiled and said, “Yep.”

  The display now showed what appeared to be a Class-7 shuttle moving toward the anomaly and entering it. Seven said, “This is where our previous work with synthetic Omega becomes instructive. In the past, we successfully stabilized and destabilized synthetic Omega particles in a harmonic resonance chamber.”

  “You’re planning to build a chamber big enough to contain a continuum that is the size of the entire multiverse?” Kim asked.

  “Don’t have to,” Conlon replied. “We already have one.”

  “The Continuum itself,” Janeway realized.

  Voyager was now added to the display, moving into position close enough to the anomaly to emit a white beam from its deflector dish.

  “Our intention is to create the appropriate harmonic resonance at a single point along the boundary of the Continuum, which will then be transmitted automatically throughout the entire Omega Continuum,” Seven went on. “There are several waves with the capacity to create the required resonance field. The most stable at our disposal is a phase-shifted soliton pulse.”

  Conlon picked up the narrative. “The difficulty is that the pulse must be emitted simultaneously from both sides of the barrier. We can program a shuttle to fly into the anomaly, reverse its orientation, and emit the pulse from the interior within a specific time frame. But the corresponding pulse from Voyager must intersect the barrier at precisely the same nanosecond.”

  “Or?” Kim asked.

  “It was really nice knowing all of you,” Conlon replied.

  “The shuttle needs to be piloted,” Chakotay said, stepping up to the holodisplay. Tom’s heart sank as he realized that for that pilot, this was a one-way mission.

  “Yes, Captain,” Seven said, nodding.

  Clapping broke a moment of solemn silence. Everyone turned to see Q leaning against the wall of the holodeck, applauding.

  “Stop it, Q,” Janeway ordered curtly.

  “I knew it was only a matter of time until the technological solution hit one of you like a ton of bricks. But there are other priorities to be considered,” he said condescendingly.

  “Is this what we did before?” Janeway asked.

  “No. Your previous ham-handed efforts included the use of antichroniton-infused tachyons, and a secondary vessel located just outside the barrier remotely controlled the shuttle. The result was roughly equivalent, and the secondary vessel’s pilot,” Q said, with a nod to Seven, “did not survive the feedback pulse that catastrophically damaged her tactical panel.”

  “But this will work,” Janeway insisted.

  “It will restore the balance required. Unfortunately, it remains unacceptable,” Q replied.

  “Why?” Seven demanded.

  “Because it will force Omega and its counterbalance into their original orientations,” Eden replied for him. “Nothing that has happened since just prior to the moment when the Anschlasom first breached Omega will ever have occurred.”

  Tom watched the admiral’s mind work the problem until she found a solution he would never have seen coming.

  “The Q will never have existed,” she finally said.

  As Q nodded, Tom found himself wondering briefly why this was the case and, if so, if that would actually be a bad thing.

  “No, that’s not true,” Seven suddenly interjected.

  “You’re going to argue math with me, Seven?” Q asked.

  “Yes,” she replied, unfazed. “An antichroniton-infused tachyon pulse would revert Omega to its initial orientation. A soliton pulse will simply halt its progress from this point forward. Omega will be sealed and continue its stabilization at a significantly reduced rate. We may be shaving a few million years off the next several trillion years of life in the multiverse, but there is no way to prevent that now. However, everything that has occurred since the Anschlasom’s actions, including any effect upon the Q Continuum and the birth of Captain Eden, will still have happened. We aren’t actually altering time here.”

  “Is that a first for us?” Chakotay asked. The first officer was relieved to see Janeway crack a smile.

  Tom watched as Captain Eden’s and Q’s eyes finally met. It was clear neither trusted the other.

  “Seven’s right,” Eden finally said, without taking her eyes off Q.

  “If it works,” he countered.

  “I’m willing to give it a try,” Eden offered.

  Q shrugged. “I’m in no position to stop you, am I?”

  “Then it’s settled,” Janeway said.

  Eden asked Seven, “How long will it take you to complete the necessary modifications to the shuttle and our deflector array?”

  “One hour. We’re already under way, Captain,” Seven replied.

  “Let me know when you’re ready.” Eden nodded. “I will pilot that shuttle.”

  “No, sir, you will not,” B’Elanna quickly interjected.

  Eden’s surprise at being so quickly rebuffed was evident. “And why not?”

  Seven stepped forward. “According to your quantum scans, every time you near the barrier, or interact with anything remotely connected to it, you increase Omega’s rate of stabilization. You are, in fact, the only member of the crew who is incapable of performing this task.”

  “I’ll do it,” Janeway said with such finality, Tom suspected from the moment the mission parameters had been laid out she had already decided on this course.

  “No,” Chakotay contradicted the admiral, his tone simple and quiet and resigned.

  “Please, don’t argue in front of the children,” Q quipped. “You know how it upsets them.”

  “Q,” Janeway warned ominously.

  “I’ll do it,” Q briskly cut her off. “I’m a good pilot and I stand a better chance than any of you of countering whatever psychological impact Omega may present.”

  Janeway seemed to seriously consider his offer, but again, Chakotay said, “No.”

  “Oh, come on,” Q urged. “I’m already mortal. What more have I got to lose?”

  Chakotay looked between Eden and Janeway as he replied, “I don’t trust him.”

  “In this case, I’m afraid I don’t either,” Janeway agreed.

  “Kathy, how you wound me,” Q said theatrically.

  “Enough,” Chakotay ordered. “B’Elanna, have your team complete the preparations. Tom, get back to the bridge. Fleet Commander, Admiral, and Counselor, my ready room.”

  It suddenly struck Tom, for the first time in a while, that despite Eden’s rank and Janeway’s presence, this was Chakotay’s ship and he would be giving the orders on this one.

  “Aye, sir,” Tom said, and turned to go.

  “And what about me?” Q asked.

  “Have you ever seen the interior of our brig?” Cambridge asked.

  “Lieutenant Kim,” Chakotay said, “prepare secure quarters for Q and place him there along with ten of your best officers. Q, you should feel free to avail yourself of the replicators, but the interface consoles will be inoperable.”

  Off Kim’s wide-eyed gaze, Chakotay added, “For the moment, he is quite mortal and poses no threat to any of us, beyond his ability to bore us to death.”

  “Aye, sir.” Kim nodded.

  “Let’s get to it,” Chakotay finished.

  • • •

  The brief trip from the holodeck to Chakotay’s ready room was mercifully silent. Chakotay could feel Kathryn’s frustration roiling off her. Eden and Cambridge walked a few paces behind them, until the doors of the ready room snapped closed.

  Janeway, Eden, and Cambridge stood in a semicircle before his desk as Chakotay stepped up to the railing that separated the room’s workspace from the small sitting area. Placing his hands on the railing, he first addressed Captain Eden.

  “I trust you are confident that what B’Elanna and her team have proposed will work?”

  Eden nodded thoughtfully. “It should.”

  “Do you have any
reservations?”

  After a moment, the captain replied, “I wish we could alert Jobin. When the anomaly closes, his ship will be destroyed.”

  Turning to Janeway, Chakotay asked, “Would it be possible for Seven to contact Jobin again?”

  “Even if we could, he would have to free his ship from Omega before our attempt, and that isn’t possible,” Eden added.

  “Could you do it?” Janeway asked, and Chakotay was reminded that Eden now possessed the powers of a Q.

  “Not without risking the instantaneous stabilization of Omega by my proximity to it,” Eden replied.

  “I’m sorry, Afsarah,” Chakotay offered. “He’s been trapped between life and death for almost forty years. His wish was that you would survive, and that will be made possible by this choice.”

  Eden was fighting back tears.

  “And that should make me feel better, shouldn’t it?” she said softly.

  “It will in time,” Cambridge assured her.

  “Which leaves the issue of the shuttle pilot,” Chakotay went on.

  “Who is our best pilot, Captain?” Cambridge asked, resuming a detached and thoroughly professional demeanor.

  “Tom Paris,” Chakotay replied, without hesitation.

  Janeway’s eyes widened momentarily.

  “But he’s not going in there,” Chakotay said flatly.

  “Why not?” Cambridge asked.

  “Two reasons . . .” Chakotay replied.

  “B’Elanna and Miral,” Janeway finished for him.

  Chakotay nodded. “Our next best pilot is Ensign Gwyn, and I want her at Voyager’s conn in the unlikely event that our efforts fail. She’s spent the last few days maneuvering through areas affected by the anomaly. If it shatters again, she’s our best hope of keeping the ship safe.”

  “Which leaves me,” Janeway finally said.

  “You’re a good pilot, Admiral, but you’re probably a little rusty these days,” Chakotay replied evenly.

  “That’s not why you’re unwilling to accept my offer,” Janeway replied.

  “It’s part of it,” Chakotay insisted, “but there’s more.”

  “Such as?”

  “You spent the last fourteen months in the Q Continuum and were brought back by Q’s son. Even if the rest of them don’t know what’s at stake, he does, and if there’s a chance that what we’re about to do might adversely affect him or his people, I’m guessing he’d try to stop you.”

  “If he has concerns, he’ll try to stop any pilot we send in there,” Janeway corrected him.

  “No one else here owes him as much as you do, Admiral,” Cambridge noted.

  “I would never place his wishes above the safety of this ship, or the rest of the multiverse,” Janeway replied, stung.

  “I know you wouldn’t,” Chakotay said, rising to her defense.

  “But even if he doesn’t show up, I’m not sure you’re mentally prepared to face Omega,” Cambridge interjected.

  The admiral only stared at the counselor, clearly at a loss.

  “Really?” she finally asked.

  Cambridge nodded, not in the least disconcerted. “We know that entering the Omega Continuum affects every individual differently. During Afsarah’s last contact with the barrier, she witnessed four of our officers conferring with Tallar in a garden. I’m assuming that was the same garden Tallar and Jobin found themselves in when they first entered Omega. This suggests that Captain Itak, Captain Chan, Lieutenant Waverly, and the ensign from the Quirinal . . .”

  “Sadie Johns,” Eden said softly.

  “. . . had devised a mental framework to confront Omega that was less powerful than Tallar’s. His perception became theirs. He’s had years to solidify that perception, so it isn’t surprising, but whoever goes in there now needs to be ready to meet Omega on his or her own terms, not Tallar’s. They must be able to resist the pull of that garden.”

  “You think Tallar will try and hinder our efforts?” Eden asked.

  “He just gave up an opportunity that, to the best of his knowledge, would have ended Omega’s threat. He watched over seven hundred of our people sacrifice themselves. I don’t think you or anyone else here knows what he’s capable of now or how he will respond to another intrusion into his domain.”

  “I told you,” Eden insisted, “Tallar faltered because he sensed my presence.”

  “So you believe,” Cambridge allowed, “but in this instance only, Afsarah, I’m not certain your perception can be trusted. Your connection to Tallar is part of your humanity, and in that arena, I’m afraid you’re as blind as the rest of us when the heart asserts itself.”

  “I still don’t understand why you would question my mental fitness,” Janeway said pointedly to Cambridge.

  “Oh, let’s see,” Cambridge said, turning to face her. “The last moments of your previous life were spent enduring the violent assault of a Borg cube, which assimilated you, forcing you to kill hundreds of your fellow officers. Your mental resources, while obviously formidable enough to withstand assimilation, cannot have healed from the injuries you sustained at the Borg’s hands before you entered the Q Continuum. You then endured what I can only assume was a rather frightening and painful process of rebirth, during which you required the assistance of not one but two extraordinarily powerful beings. Since then, you have careened from one catastrophe to the next. And while you’ve done so with the grace and single-mindedness of a Valkyrie, my guess is that it will take years of dedicated work on your part to begin to make peace with all you experienced. Sending you into the Omega Continuum would be throwing a lamb to a pack of ravenous wolves.”

  “I’m no lamb, Counselor,” Janeway said.

  “Yes, well, my lack of prowess with metaphor aside, my point still stands.”

  “Which is why I will be piloting that shuttle,” Chakotay said.

  “No,” Janeway said immediately.

  “Here we are in agreement, Admiral,” Cambridge added. Turning to Chakotay, he said, “Is there a shortage of skilled pilots among our ranks of which I am unaware?”

  “None with the experience I believe this mission requires,” Chakotay replied.

  “What about Seven?” Eden suggested.

  Chakotay bowed his head for a moment, struggling with the only other contender for the job worth serious consideration.

  “No,” he finally said.

  After a brief pause, Cambridge said, “Her experience in navigating surreal psychological states over the years might actually be a plus here, and I wouldn’t lay odds that anyone, even Tallar, could shake what has been fortified by the Borg and Caeliar.”

  “Seven is the only individual in existence who is connected to Starfleet and possesses Caeliar technology. She is valuable to the future of the Federation in ways we cannot yet even imagine,” Chakotay said.

  “Seven’s too important to lose, but you aren’t, Captain?” Cambridge challenged him.

  “There are two command-rank officers in this room, and Commander Paris is ready to step up, should the need arise,” Chakotay rebuffed him.

  “Are you unable, or unwilling, to send one of your people on a suicide mission, sir?” Cambridge asked directly. “Don’t they make command candidates pass some absurd test proving their willingness to do just that?”

  “They do,” Chakotay replied. “It is not the issue here.”

  “Then what is?”

  “I’ve made my decision.” Chakotay was clearly unwilling to answer the question.

  “As ship’s counselor, do you have any reservations about Captain Chakotay’s mental fitness?” Janeway demanded of Cambridge.

  “I’ve watched him spend the last fourteen months wrestling with personal demons that would have left many beyond hope, let alone reason. I’ve also come to understand the strength his completely irrational, spiritual beliefs provide during intense psychological struggles. He was able to share a vision with Seven of Nine, while she was at her most vulnerable, that brought her back from the b
rink of madness. He’s put his own darkness behind him while leading this crew through some of the most difficult months they’ve ever faced.”

  “Hugh,” Chakotay interrupted, reddening slightly.

  “Captain Chakotay can complete this mission,” Cambridge continued, unheeding. “And while you may technically outrank him, Admiral, until your position is once again formally recognized by Starfleet Command and unless his current commanding officer gives orders to the contrary, I’m afraid you have no authority to countermand any choice he might make here.”

  “That will suffice, Counselor,” Chakotay said firmly.

  “This is your decision?” Eden asked Chakotay.

  “Yes, Captain,” Chakotay replied.

  Eden crossed to him and stepped up to stand directly in front of him. “You know I’d give anything to take your place.”

  “I do,” he replied, smiling faintly.

  “No greater regret,” she said solemnly.

  Chakotay nodded and briefly took her in his arms in a firm embrace.

  When they parted, Eden turned to Janeway, her eyes filled with sorrow, and nodded briefly. She said, “Counselor, my quarters.”

  “You’ll stop by before you go?” Cambridge asked.

  “Nothing synthetic or replicated,” Chakotay requested.

  “Perish the thought.” Cambridge smiled.

  With that, they departed, leaving Chakotay alone with Janeway.

  • • •

  The admiral stepped past Chakotay and took a seat on the long bench beneath the windows of the ready room. Silently, he moved to sit beside her, and after a moment, took her hands in his.

  “I see you’ve managed to inspire a truly frightening degree of loyalty in those you command,” she observed.

  “I watched you do it for seven years,” he replied. “Looks like I finally got the hang of it.”

  “I am wondering, why didn’t you replace Counselor Cambridge?”

  “He grows on you,” Chakotay insisted.

  After a brief pause she asked, “Why are you really doing this? What were you unwilling to say in front of them?”

  “There’s a chance this won’t work,” he replied simply. “And if we aren’t able to contain Omega here, there’s only one person in all of creation who should be standing between Eden and the Q. If I thought I was the best person for that job, I’d send you in there without hesitation. Hugh may be right about all you’ve just been through, but he doesn’t know you like I do. And I pity anyone who tried to get in your way.”