Star Trek Voyager: Unworthy

by Kirsten Beyer

  “Let’s find out,” Cambridge suggested.

  “How?”

  “Disengage your neural inhibitor.”

  Her hand shaking, Seven did so.

  Within seconds, the voice once again began to encroach upon the silence. Seven felt her chest begin to tighten.

  “You hear it again, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “You are more powerful than the voice, Seven. You are something of which the voice cannot conceive. Silence it.”

  Seven repeated these words in her mind as the voice grew louder.

  “I … cannot …”

  Cambridge leaned forward, taking Seven’s hands in his.

  “You can.”

  Seven closed her eyes and attempted to force the voice to do her will. When the sound was all she was conscious of, she abruptly reached up and switched the inhibitor on again. She opened her eyes, realizing that her breath was coming in great heaves, expecting to find disappointment on the counselor’s face.

  Instead, she saw respect.

  “Well done,” Cambridge said with a smile.

  “I failed,” Seven insisted.

  “You tried,” Cambridge corrected her. “You are one of the bravest individuals I have ever known.”

  Seven was suddenly conscious of his hands, holding hers tightly. She pulled them back quickly.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, Seven.”

  With a nod, Seven rose and left the office.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Don’t move,” B’Elanna whispered.

  Tom lay opposite her, staring into her eyes with an intensity that suggested a desire to lose himself in them forever. Although they had begun the previous night nestled securely in each other’s arms, at some point while they slept, Miral had forced her way between them and now lay sprawled with one arm across B’Elanna’s abdomen, a leg atop Tom’s.

  Tom reached toward his wife and gently brushed back a tangle of long hair until his hand came to rest on B’Elanna’s cheek.

  “You know I don’t want to,” Tom whispered back.

  “Then don’t.”

  Tom closed his eyes briefly, clearly envisioning spending the entire day like this with great pleasure.

  “Just tell me I’m not dreaming,” he said.

  “I will if you will,” B’Elanna replied drowsily.

  Tom opened his eyes and a wide smile spread across his face.

  “I still can’t believe you’re both here. I honestly never thought this day would come.”

  “I knew it would,” B’Elanna said. “That’s the only thing that kept me going.”

  Tom’s smile faded.

  “Are you sure we’re doing the right thing by staying here? If you still want to go, you know I’m with you.”

  “All I want is for the three of us to be together,” B’Elanna assured him. “And I’m starting to think that you’re happier here than even you know.”

  Tom seemed to consider her point.

  “It’s different,” he conceded. “But it’s good. And last night was amazing.”

  B’Elanna lifted her head and rested it on her hand.

  “I assume you’re referring to what happened after our guests left, but dinner was nice too,” she replied, feigning dismay. “Part of me still doesn’t believe that we’re all together again in the Delta quadrant. But it’s strange without …”

  Tom picked up her thought, “Admiral Janeway.”

  B’Elanna nodded somberly. “I still miss her. Telling Neelix was awful.”

  “I know. Just as awful as when I had to tell you.”

  “What do you think of Eden?” B’Elanna asked.

  “She’s fair. She’s a good captain. And she’s going to have my ass if I’m late for duty this morning,” Tom suddenly realized.

  B’Elanna reached for him as he started to disentangle himself from Miral and pulled his lips to hers.

  “And I’ll have your ass if you’re not back here the moment your shift is over,” she assured him.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Tom said.

  As he stumbled toward the ’fresher, he tossed over his shoulder, “How are you going to keep yourself busy today?”

  B’Elanna gently shifted Miral, who rolled over onto her side with a faint snort of protest.

  “Probably in sickbay at least part of the time,” B’Elanna replied. “Beyond that, I don’t really know. I don’t suppose they added a preschool during the last refit,” she suggested idly.

  “Nope,” Tom replied through the open door.

  “I’ll probably start going through the ship’s database for educational materials. I might see if I can download Kula’s program to our quarters, or maybe to the Galen.”

  “Talk to the Doc. I’m sure he’ll help you any way he can. He’s still as full of himself as ever.”

  “I noticed that,” B’Elanna chuckled.

  She was about to share with Tom her silent disappointment that Harry hadn’t joined them last night when the door chimed. Pulling on her robe, B’Elanna crossed into the living area and releasing the lock manually found Nancy Conlon standing before her.

  “You’re up early, Lieutenant,” B’Elanna said in surprise. “Tom’s in the shower but he’ll be on duty in a few minutes.”

  “I’m sorry to disturb you,” Conlon said, clearly ill at ease. “But I didn’t stop by to see Commander Paris.”

  “Oh,” B’Elanna replied. “Okay.” After an uncertain pause she added, “Do you want to come in?”

  “Thank you,” Conlon said, stepping just inside the doors.

  “I was just going to replicate some raktajino,” B’Elanna said kindly. “Would you like something?”

  “That sounds good,” Conlon said.

  B’Elanna quickly retrieved their beverages and set both of them down on the low table in their seating area. She didn’t understand why Conlon remained standing almost at attention since she’d walked in.

  “You can sit down, if you like,” B’Elanna offered. “I don’t bite.”

  “Of course. Thank you, ma’am.”

  “And seriously, when you say ma’am, I look behind me for the captain. It’s ‘B’Elanna.’”

  “Okay, B’Elanna,” Conlon said with a hint of a smile. “You can call me Nancy.”

  “Great, Nancy.” B’Elanna smiled. “What can I do for you?”

  “Last night Harry, I mean, Lieutenant Kim, showed me the benamite recrystallization matrix you designed. Our supply is already showing signs of microfractures and I was wondering if you thought the system you developed could be adapted to a larger scale.”

  B’Elanna smiled inwardly at the slip between “Harry” and “Lieutenant Kim.” It simultaneously piqued her interest and filled her with a mischievous desire she hadn’t felt in years.

  “I’m sure it could,” she replied. “I can show you the specs, if you like.”

  “Oh … okay, thank you.” Conlon nodded.

  “Or I could come down to engineering and take a look at your new drive and make sure there won’t be any compatibility issues. Then I could probably take a stab at the designs myself. I mean, if that’s what you want,” she added hastily.

  “Only if that’s what you want,” Conlon said defensively.

  “Nancy?”

  “Yes?”

  “I think we need to get something straight.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’m a guest on this ship. And I consider myself lucky to be that. I haven’t been regular Starfleet for years. Actually, I was never ‘regular,’ even when I was Voyager’s chief engineer. You probably know as much about engineering as I do, and you certainly know more about this ship now than I do. I’m happy to pitch in under your direction. Feel free to ask anytime. But I’m not interested in getting in your way or stepping on your toes. I know how hard your job is. And the last thing you should be doing right now is second-guessing yourself, or worrying that I’m interested in taking something that’s not mine. I’ve had a crazy couple o
f years. I need some time to readjust to something resembling normal life. And I have a daughter who needs me and will always come first.”

  Conlon sighed in visible relief. “How is Miral?” she asked.

  “She’s getting better, thanks for asking.”

  “People around me have been singing your praises for weeks,” Conlon confessed. “You’re a legend in that engine room.”

  “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” B’Elanna assured her.

  “I don’t think so,” Conlon said. “It took you two minutes to make me feel better.”

  “I have my moments.” B’Elanna smiled, embarrassed.

  Tom interrupted them, entering with a sleepy Miral clutched tightly to his neck.

  “I think you’re going to need a hydrospanner to remove her,” he began, but as soon as he saw Conlon his face fell to a more neutral arrangement. “Good morning, Lieutenant.”

  Conlon immediately rose from her seat and replied, “Commander.”

  “Everything okay?” he asked dubiously.

  “We were just having a little chat,” B’Elanna said as she rose and went to work disentangling Miral from her father’s arms. After giving him a quick kiss she said, “Now get out of here.”

  “What happened to don’t move ?” he teased under his breath.

  “Times change,” she shot back. “Go.”

  “Aye, aye, sir,” he said, scooting out the door.

  “I should really go, too,” Conlon said. “Thanks for the raktajino .”

  “Anytime,” B’Elanna said. “And I’ll try to stop by later today to take a look at those microfractures.”

  Conlon nodded appreciatively but before she reached the door, B’Elanna called after her.

  “Just out of curiosity, what were you doing with Harry last night?”

  “I just ran into him in the mess.”

  “Oh, okay,” B’Elanna replied, dying to know if that had been an accident, or intention on Nancy’s part. “You know, he’s a great guy,” she added, worrying she might be laying it on a little thick. Those worries faded when she saw a distinct light come to Nancy’s eye.

  “He’s very helpful,” Nancy acknowledged. “Oh, speaking of problems I’m having a hard time solving, did your shuttle’s slipstream drive ever have any interface issues with your deflector? Processing delays, specifically?”

  “No,” B’Elanna said, her curiosity instantly tweaked. “But my deflectors were designed specifically to integrate with the slipstream drive.”

  “Lucky you,” Nancy replied.

  “Why don’t you forward me your most recent deflector control parameters and schematics and let me take a look,” B’Elanna suggested.

  “I suppose fresh eyes can’t hurt.” Nancy smiled. “See you later, B’Elanna.”

  B’Elanna busied herself getting Miral ready for the day. It was a luxurious undertaking now that it could be performed in roughly three times the space they had enjoyed on the Home Free.

  Just as she was ready to take Miral to sickbay for her morning checkup, Nancy’s data transmission arrived. B’Elanna spent the hour and a half while she was waiting for the doctor to complete his exam engrossed in a thorough evaluation. It was a journey down the engineering road not traveled. But it didn’t take long for B’Elanna to discover what she believed was the source of Conlon’s interface problem, and once she’d settled Miral in for her afternoon nap, she transferred Kula’s program to her quarters.

  In main engineering, B’Elanna unobtrusively made herself comfortable at a diagnostic station and began running simulations that would test her theory. Confident she was right, she still wanted to confirm her suspicions. Halfway through her analysis of Voyager’s deflector protocols, B’Elanna found something unusual. It was not the subtle misalignment she had expected, but it would certainly account for the interface issues Conlon had described.

  What the hell are those doing here? she wondered to herself.

  Her next step was to send a message to Vorik.

  Counselor Cambridge and the doctor had filed detailed reports with Captain Eden on Seven, confirming that she was capable of performing regular duties and that it was in her best interest to do so. Eden trusted both of these officers implicitly, but she wanted to make her own assessment. The captain entered astrometrics where Seven and Lieutenant Devi Patel—Voyager’s senior science officer—were conducting a scan of the system they were approaching.

  The two women were working together at the central panel. Patel was a petite, dark-skinned woman whose shiny, straight black hair had an almost Vulcan appearance since she kept it styled in a short, severe cut. Patel barely reached Seven’s shoulder. A formidable biologist, she’d proved her worth time and again in the three years she had served aboard Voyager.

  “Report,” Eden ordered as she stepped forward, taking in the vast display on the screen before her. Voyager’s astrometrics lab had been an inspired addition, and one that Eden had every intention of making the most of. Seven—quite rightly—deferred to Patel to begin the presentation.

  The lieutenant began in her crisp, high-pitched voice, “As you can see, Captain, the Hawking’s initial assessment— indicating that the third, fourth, seventh, and tenth planets within the system are inhabited—was correct. With more accurate scans, we have discovered that sentient life-forms inhabiting the third planet appear to fall into six discrete species.

  “Six different sentient species inhabiting the same planet, let alone system?” Eden asked.

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “If I may, Captain?” Seven interjected.

  “Go on.”

  “The Borg did encounter and catalog four of the six species in question.”

  “Really?”

  Patel continued, “The least prolific of the six species is humanoid.”

  “Species 6649,” Seven added. “They call themselves the Neyser and are indigenous to a system more than four hundred light-years away.”

  “How did they get here?” Eden asked.

  “Unknown,” Patel replied. “On the third planet they live in intimate proximity to the other five sentient species. However, they also appear to have successfully colonized the fourth planet several thousand years ago. The fourth planet is exclusively inhabited by the Neyser.”

  “Interesting,” Eden noted.

  “The second species we can easily identify is a cytoplasmic life-form,” Patel continued.

  “Species 433,” Seven added. “The Greech. Native to a binary system a hundred light-years away.”

  “Voyager’s database contains a record of an encounter with a similar life-form,” Patel went on, “an insectoid creature that was rescued by the ship and sustained itself by attacking B’Elanna Torres and feeding off her neural energy until its own people arrived to claim it. Voyager was unable to establish communication with this species, but that they were capable of interstellar travel suggests that they were highly intelligent.”

  “Do you remember these cytoplasmic life-forms, Seven?” Eden asked.

  “Very well,” Seven replied. “The Doctor had a most difficult time attempting to separate the alien from Lieutenant Commander Torres without killing it. Since the alien was sentient, this was not an option. It is worth noting that while the cytoplasmic life-forms we are detecting here do bear a resemblance to that species, there are significant differences, particularly in size.”

  “Larger or smaller?” Eden asked.

  “Smaller,” Seven replied.

  “Continue,” Eden said with a nod.

  “The third sentient species is silicon-based,” Patel reported.

  “Species 912, the Dulaph, can be found on dozens of planets scattered across the quadrant,” Seven said.

  “In its natural state its body is spherical and it is propelled on many fine cilia. However, on the third planet, it is found only in combination with another life-form Seven is also familiar with.”

  “The Irsk, species 1629, a bio-mimetic life-form i
ndigenous to the Class-Y planet in this system.”

  “What does in combination mean?” Eden asked.

  “All six species appear to live and work in proximity to one another, but the Irsk and Dulaph actually occupy the same space, suggesting that one, most likely the Irsk, actually lives on the body of the Dulaph.”

  “And is the Irsk the only species we can confirm is native to this system?”

  “No, Captain,” Patel replied. “The final two species, which the Borg apparently never encountered,” she added, shooting a glance at Seven for confirmation, “are likely indigenous. Both are plentiful on the third planet, and I believe one of them, a rather large, moth-like creature, is native to it. The other is a noncorporeal life-form, indigenous to the gas giant, but somehow also able to survive on the third world.”

  Eden wanted to make sure she had this straight. “So, we have six sentient species living in close proximity on one planet. Three of them are indigenous to this system, and three aren’t.”

  “Yes, Captain.” Patel nodded.

  “And somehow the bio-mimetic life-form …”

  “The Irsk,” Patel reminded her.

  “And the noncorporeal life-form, which are indigenous to planets in this system with very different temperatures and atmospheres, have adapted to survive on a Class-M world as well.”

  “This is not unusual in a bio-mimetic life-form,” Seven replied. “But it is most unusual in the noncorporeal form.”

  “Agreed,” Patel said. “The species that originated on the gas giant should not be able to survive on the Class-M planet.”

  “So how do we think they managed it?” Eden asked.

  “It’s too soon to hypothesize,” Patel replied.

  “Okay,” Eden said evenly, “what else do we know?”

  “Uninhabited areas of the fourth planet show high concentrations of benamite,” Seven replied.

  “In crystalline form?” Eden asked.

  “No.”

  Patel went on, “The third and fourth planets are the only ones that contain visible structures. The architecture of the third world, like the ship we encountered, is quite plain and tends to favor cubical and spherical designs.”

  “Does that suggest anything significant to you, Seven?” Eden asked.