Star Trek: Voyager - 041 - The Eternal Tide

by Kirsten Beyer

  “Do one more thing for me?” Q asked.

  “Anything,” Icheb assured him.

  “Tell my parents I understand why they did what they did.”

  “You should tell them yourself,” Icheb insisted.

  “I just can’t.”

  “You can,” Icheb insisted.

  “Your parents are here, Q,” B’Elanna interrupted.

  “Where?” Icheb demanded.

  “Your mother is in sickbay,” B’Elanna replied. “Your father is with Admiral Janeway and Captain Eden.”

  “Admiral Janeway?” Icheb asked, stunned.

  “There’s no time,” Q said, shaking his head. “I could send you back, Icheb. You’d still have a few hours to cram before that quiz.”

  “No,” Icheb replied softly. “I’ll stay.”

  Q smiled, relieved, and then nodded his thanks. A bright flash of light heralded his departure. The moment he was gone, Icheb headed for the door.

  “Where are you going?” B’Elanna asked.

  “Sickbay,” Icheb tossed back over his shoulder as he hurried into the hall.

  BATTLE BRIDGE, VOYAGER

  “Warning, disengage warp engines. Saucer separation not recom-mended at warp velocity. Warning . . .”

  “Computer, silence audio warning,” Eden said.

  Alone on the battle bridge, Eden stared at the viewscreen’s representation of the starfield ahead. Within the next thirty seconds, she would bring Voyager out of warp as the saucer separation sequence engaged.

  Her nightmare had begun.

  Omega chided Eden for her continuing weakness. What difference did it make if a hundred and forty-seven additional people died now? The blood of hundreds more was already on her hands, and Tallar and Jobin would join the list soon enough. To risk dividing her focus between securing Voyager’s crew and returning home was unworthy of her.

  But Captain Afsarah Eden was not lost to Omega. She would give herself back to it entirely, bringing with her all the blood it demanded, and increasing the death toll exponentially when the entire Q Continuum was added, but she would not permit those she had sworn to protect to suffer for sins they had not committed.

  Once the warp drive was shut down, Omega would quickly overtake the ship, unless she used her borrowed powers to hurl the saucer section clear of its grasp. Eden wasn’t certain she would be permitted to do this, but she would try, before allowing herself to vanish forever into oblivion.

  Omega promised her release, a permanent end to the unspeakable anguish she had carried—responsibility for the loss of five Starfleet ships and most of their crews, Chakotay’s sacrifice, even the theft of the Q’s powers. All of it would be added to the mournful song of the cosmos, restored but permanently echoing the pain of all who lived and died within its vast churning maelstrom. Omega had witnessed worse in the past, and would again in days to come. Cold comfort, but solace nonetheless, was the certainty that Eden’s final action would be to restore balance to the multiverse and in doing so, trillions of years of existence for those who would otherwise be denied life and the chance to marvel at the universe’s harsh wonders.

  Her humanity clung desperately to this truth.

  The moment had come.

  Eden’s sight blurred momentarily as a fresh wave of power enveloped her. Now given free rein, Omega was reaching into the Q Continuum, gorging itself on the power that still remained there. The Q still left resisted its intrusion with all their might.

  Reaching back to steady herself on the chair behind her, Eden saw a flicker of churning white light.

  Kathryn Janeway materialized next to her.

  Her nightmares had prepared Eden for this eventuality. That Kathryn Janeway’s death would now be added to the long list was cause for further regret, but was not hers to prevent.

  “You should not have come,” Eden said.

  Janeway looked over Eden’s shoulder to a point behind her and nodded faintly.

  “Get her!” a familiar voice ordered as Q hurled himself over a control panel and came within inches of tackling Eden to the deck. A whisper of intention from Eden reversed Q’s momentum, sending him crashing into the battle bridge’s rear bulkhead.

  Amid his exclamations of pain, Janeway’s face hardened. “ ‘Get her’?” she said in disbelief. “That was your plan?”

  Q moaned softly.

  “Tell me you’re going to bring the ship out of warp before you do this,” Janeway said, now directing her attention entirely at Eden.

  In answer, the thrumming beneath her feet was reduced as the warp drive powered down.

  “Please, wait,” Janeway pleaded, moving to stand directly in front of Eden.

  “If you want your people to live . . .” Eden began, but stopped speaking in order to concentrate all her efforts on stilling Omega’s progress.

  A series of loud clanks marked the initiation of the saucer separation sequence.

  “They’re not just my people, Afsarah,” Janeway insisted. “They are yours too.”

  Eden couldn’t respond. Every ounce of consciousness at her disposal was now focused entirely on Omega. Her concentration was split, seconds later, by the gentle nudge she used to move the saucer section, propelling it forward at warp 8.

  Janeway turned away from Eden to watch the saucer section’s progress on the viewscreen. Visible fractures, blazing with Omega’s unholy light, stretched toward the saucer. Eden ignored them, demanding only one thing.

  Faster.

  In response, the saucer section careened toward port as a fresh surge of speed took it. Eden ordered the drive section of the ship—all that was left to her to command—to come about and set course into the nearest fracture.

  As she had expected, Eden felt Omega’s focus on her. In her mind’s eye she saw Voyager’s saucer continuing forward and allowed herself a moment of relief, knowing they were, at last, safe.

  Finally, she turned to face Kathryn Janeway.

  “They will survive now.”

  “I suppose I should thank you for that much.”

  “It was the least I could do.”

  “You could do more,” Janeway argued.

  Afsarah Eden had known Janeway only briefly, but the sliver of her that remained human marveled at the lengths to which this woman would go to make a point.

  “What would you ask of me now?” Eden wondered aloud. “It’s too late to send you back to Voyager, but you had to know that. If your intention is to make me feel worse than I already do, that is beyond even your formidable abilities.”

  “In the third year of our mission in the Delta Quadrant, we were embroiled in a civil war within the Q Continuum. The war ended when two Q reproduced, creating the first child ever born to the Continuum.”

  “Your point, Admiral?”

  “That child sent me here to prevent his death. I failed him. But I understand now why I was supposed to.”

  “He will join the others soon enough,” Eden said somberly.

  “I don’t think so,” a new voice said from behind both of them.

  Eden saw Janeway’s resigned yet prideful smile. Turning, she faced another Q.

  • • •

  Sickbay was a mass of confusion as the Tamarian doctor tended to a dozen confused individuals in various states. The Doctor moved among them, attempting to reassure and, where necessary, silence their outbursts.

  Immediately upon entering, Icheb found his quarry. In a corner, a strong-featured woman with blazing auburn hair lay on her side on a biobed. Her eyes were open, and the grief carved upon her features was pitiful.

  The cadet made his way to her as quickly as possible.

  “Excuse me,” Icheb said.

  The woman did not answer. In fact, she gave no sign whatsoever that she had even registered Icheb’s presence.

  “I have a message from your son,” Icheb said insistently.

  With this, her eyes lifted to his.

  “What is it?” she demanded.

  “He wanted you to
know that he understands why you did what you did.”

  “He came,” she said, as a fresh spasm of pain wrenched her face.

  “Can you go to him?” Icheb asked.

  “I’m mortal now, just like you,” she replied.

  “He needs you.”

  “He knew what would happen if he came here,” she insisted. “Soon enough, none of us will have ever existed, so we won’t regret his choice.”

  “He said he couldn’t face you. I guess he was afraid of what he’d find if he did. But he shouldn’t die wondering if you loved him. My parents were monsters. They created me so they could use me to fight their battles for them. They never even thought to ask for my consent, or forgiveness. Is that what you did? Is that all he ever was to you?”

  With obvious effort, the woman pushed herself up off the biobed and stood before him. Icheb was momentarily awed.

  Icheb was accustomed to seeing the Q work their particular powers in bright flashes of light. This Q threw her head back and uttered a bone-shaking cry that immediately forced every head in the room to turn toward her. When it had ended, her form slowly began to waver before him. The excruciating pain of the effort she was expending was clear, until she was gone.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  BATTLE BRIDGE, VOYAGER

  The anguish that Janeway had held at bay since Chakotay had departed Voyager threatened to overwhelm her. She had controlled her feelings, knowing that she had to try and reach Eden. As she stared into the face of the young man who had brought her back from the brink of death and was now facing his own with unflinching courage, her resolve began to waver.

  The white halo of energy still surrounded Eden, her eyes glowing with an unearthly incandescence. What had once been Afsarah Eden dismissed this Q.

  With a very human sigh, Eden raised a hand, presumably to absorb his power. Her hand rose to the level of Q’s chest, but her fingers faltered. Her eyes dimmed as she studied his face.

  “Turns out, we’re both a little different,” Q said with self-assurance. “The rest of the Continuum is yours for the taking, but you can’t have my power unless I choose to give it to you.”

  “How?” Eden asked.

  “I don’t think the Q were ever incapable of procreation, or had forgotten how to do it. I think they were afraid of what they might create. I think on some level they knew that to bring me into existence was to risk their own destruction.”

  “The Q thought you would turn against them?” Janeway asked in disbelief.

  “They’ve struggled for billions of years with the power that is their birthright. To imagine a being with power that could surpass their own was a risk they were unwilling to contemplate until they thought they had no other choice.”

  “Then they knew Omega was coming?” Janeway asked her godson.

  “No,” Q replied. “That, they could never have imagined. But I think they had to know on some level that I was necessary, or even my parents wouldn’t have dared.”

  Janeway stepped toward him, struggling to maintain her composure. “Did you know I would fail?”

  He appeared stricken by the suggestion. “Of course not,” he assured her. “I hoped you had a solution I couldn’t see. It was too much to ask of you. I know you’ve suffered since you came here. I’m truly sorry.”

  “No, I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  He looked at her warmly. Smiling grimly, Q said, “It’s not everyone who gets to die saving their race, along with the entire multiverse. Apparently, the reason I couldn’t see the future beyond this point is because no matter what, I was never going to be a part of it.”

  “Omega cannot be restored without the power of the entire Continuum,” Eden said.

  “Wrong,” Q replied. “Omega needs me as much as it needs you. What it doesn’t need is the rest of the Continuum.”

  Eden asked again, “How?”

  “If I give you what is mine, it will suffice. You can restore to the Q what you have already taken. We will enter Omega together, the multiverse will be healed, and balance will be restored.”

  At this, Eden asked Janeway, “Do you believe him?”

  Janeway nodded. “I do.”

  Suddenly the deck shifted. Janeway grabbed the back of the nearest chair to stabilize herself. “What’s happening?”

  “Our motion has stopped,” Eden said, cocking her head to the right and listening intently. After a moment, she returned her gaze to Q. “You have done this,” she accused him.

  “That’s right,” he replied evenly. “I’m not letting you go back to Omega with the blood of my people on your hands. We’ll stay here as long as it takes for you to accept what I’m telling you. But the longer you wait, the further Omega progresses and the greater the odds that it will overtake Voyager.”

  A shadowy form began to solidify behind her godson. Q turned, and was soon standing face to face with his mother.

  She took a moment to assure herself that she had survived whatever means she had used to reach the battle bridge. She then moved to embrace her son, but he stepped back.

  “Son?” his father murmured as he pulled himself up to stand beside his wife.

  “How did you come here?” Q asked of his mother.

  She shook her head dismissively. “The power of the Q Continuum is great, but it’s not the only source available to us.”

  “We’re not permitted,” Q stammered.

  “Like that could ever stop your mother,” his father chided him. Placing an arm around her and pulling her close, he added, “The Continuum will never forgive you for it, though.”

  “I don’t care,” she replied.

  “You know, that’s what I’ve always loved about you,” his father said, smiling wickedly.

  “Yes, well, now that that’s settled, I’m afraid this is good-bye,” Q interjected.

  His father nodded, kissed his wife’s cheek with incredible tenderness, and stepped toward his son.

  “You’re right. It’s time,” his father said.

  Q nodded. “All right then.”

  “There’s just one thing, son.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You are not giving your power to that woman,” his father said evenly.

  “But—”

  “You’re giving it to me.”

  “What?” Janeway said, shocked.

  “You are right, of course, that yours is probably the only power that can restore the balance and eliminate the necessity of the rest of the Continuum’s sacrifice. And you are also right that I knew, as did the rest of the Continuum, that your power would eclipse ours. It’s why they were so hard on you, why they tethered you to my apron strings, for as long as they dared. You were created to save the Continuum, but you’ve already done that. Now, it’s my turn. You will give your power to me, and I will go with Eden into Omega.” After a brief silence, his father added, “I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do about your future. You won’t be a Q any longer. You won’t be immortal. I’m sure your mother will do all she can to make the time you have left as magnificent as only she can.”

  “That’s why he couldn’t enter the future?” Janeway asked. “Because after this, he would no longer have the ability to do so?”

  He nodded without taking his eyes from his son.

  Q had listened intently to his father. Once he had finished, Q nodded reverently, saying, “I love you, Father.”

  His father’s chin dropped in a slight nod. “Yes, well . . .” But before he could say anything more, Q reached for him and pulled him into a tight embrace.

  Her heart pounding furiously in her chest, Janeway watched for a sign that the power transfer from Q had occurred.

  When they parted, Q smiled sadly.

  “Son?”

  “It’s not just the power, Father. You know that. It’s also the vessel. I am the only Q in existence capable of containing all that I am, all that she needs,” he stated. “It has to be me.”

  “No,” his mother pleaded.

&n
bsp; “You can’t,” his father insisted. With no greater argument at his disposal, he begged, “I love you.”

  Few moments had passed since Kathryn Janeway had returned when she did not question her choice. No matter how much determined effort she had focused on the task at hand, each step she had taken in her new life had brought loss, pain, and regret. Finally, however, she understood why she had to be here, in this moment.

  “Then let him go,” she said softly.

  “This isn’t your concern,” Q snapped harshly.

  Janeway swallowed hard, then continued, “To ask any parent to suffer the loss of a child is to ask more than any parent can possibly give. But to deny any individual the right to walk the path they have chosen, because we cannot imagine our lives without them, carries a heavy price. You have never known this because you have never faced this choice. You’ve never had to sacrifice anything, because of your power to alter reality to suit your whims. I understand this truth. We mortals have tried to soften it in platitudes. ‘The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.’ ‘Death before dishonor.’ In the end, nothing makes it easier to accept. I’ve given my life once for those I love, and I’m about to do it again. To have made any other choice was to grant fear dominion. Your son is a remarkable individual. Don’t ask him to be less than he is. He has made his choice.”

  “What choice?” Q raged. “If he goes with her, there’s no telling what will happen. Maybe he’s right. Maybe the multiverse will revert to its previous state. But what if he’s wrong? This may be nothing more than a delusion of grandeur.”

  “He comes by it honestly,” Janeway observed.

  “Your father is right,” Eden interrupted. “If you add your power to the rest of the Q Continuum, Omega will be sealed. But how can you ask me to accept that you alone possess all that I require?”

  “Faith,” the admiral answered for him. Despite the inhuman aspects of Eden’s form, Janeway moved to stand directly before her and stared into her blindingly bright eyes. “Nothing is certain here, but in my heart of hearts, I know he’s right. You are both unique, the only individuals of your kind. You’ve already glimpsed his power. It’s preventing you from returning to Omega even now. From the beginning this has been about balance; the child of the Q and the child of Omega are the balance restored.”