Star Trek: Voyager - 042 - Protectors

by Kirsten Beyer

  Tapping his combadge, he said, “Kim to engineering.”

  “Go ahead,” Conlon replied.

  “Please prepare to target the coordinates I am sending you now with a low-level tachyon pulse.”

  “Why?” Paris asked.

  “I want to make sure the scattered low-level EM radiation surges I’m reading aren’t indicative of stealth technology,” Kim replied.

  At this, Paris ordered, “Helm, adjust our orientation for optimum deflector alignment.”

  “Aye, sir,” Aytar Gwyn replied.

  A few moments later, the tachyon pulse was emitted from the main deflector dish, and in an instant, Kim’s tactical display lit up with a multitude of varied contacts, this time unmistakable in their purpose.

  “Wow,” he said softly.

  Noting the readings on Kim’s panel, Paris immediately ordered, “Raise shield. Yellow alert.”

  “Report, Lieutenant,” Chakotay said.

  Kim gave Paris a knowing nod before saying, “That’s not a void, sir. That’s cloaked space.”

  Chakotay smiled. “Good work, Harry.”

  Given Kim’s assessment, Chakotay seriously considered taking the ship to red alert, but decided raising the threat level could wait. In his experience, cloaking technology was used for a relatively small number of things: people and ships. Rarely, planets or planet-sized technology could be cloaked. But the power required to sustain such things was massive.

  “Do we have any idea what is generating the cloak?” Chakotay asked.

  “Not yet, sir,” Lieutenant Kim replied. “I’ve asked Seven to begin astrometrics analysis.”

  “Good.” Chakotay nodded.

  His thoughts suddenly turned to Demeter. No doubt, their science and tactical staff had reached the same conclusion as his people. But the small special mission ship was not really suited or intended for combat. If the fleet still had a Vesta-class ship with them, Chakotay’s misgivings would have been mitigated. As it was, Voyager was the only thing standing between the Demeter’s capture or destruction, if hostilities broke out.

  The captain knew he might be getting ahead of himself, but there was no denying that anyone or anything with the capacity to generate a cloaking field this size could pose a threat.

  He didn’t wish to deny Demeter’s crew the opportunity to contribute to the fleet’s work, but he also didn’t want to jeopardize them needlessly. Though the fleet did not have a commander at the moment, Chakotay had seniority, giving him the authority to order Demeter to fall back. It seemed to Chakotay that the time had come to broach the topic.

  Rising from his chair he said, “Paris, you have the bridge. Continue scans and advise me immediately if anything changes out there.”

  “Aye, sir,” Paris replied, stepping back to the command well as Chakotay crossed to his ready room.

  Once at his desk, he opened a channel to the Demeter, where he was surprised to see the ship’s first officer, Lieutenant Commander Atlee Fife. He was a young, lean man with eyes that seemed to take up altogether too much of his face.

  “Commander Fife,” Chakotay began, “have you detected the cloaking field?”

  “Yes, sir,” Fife replied officiously. “We were picking up some strange EM readings when Voyager fired the tachyon pulse. We were about to request you do that, but clearly we’re all on the same page.”

  “Where is Commander O’Donnell?”

  “His quarters, sir.”

  Chakotay hesitated, perturbed by the commander’s lack of interest in the proceedings. “Is he aware of this discovery?”

  “I have forwarded all pertinent data to his personal terminal. If he has any questions or recommendations, I’m sure he will apprise me of them in due time.”

  “Thank you, Commander. Patch me down there,” Chakotay ordered.

  When O’Donnell appeared, Chakotay got the distinct impression that the man was annoyed by the interruption. A balding human in his fifties, O’Donnell had already demonstrated his brilliance with the Children of the Storm contact. However, the two men had exchanged few words, and Chakotay still didn’t quite know what to make of him.

  “Is there a problem, Captain?” O’Donnell asked, cutting right to the chase.

  “I was wondering, Commander, if you were concerned that the cloaking field we just discovered might pose a threat to your ship, given its limited maneuverability and armaments,” Chakotay replied.

  O’Donnell’s brow furrowed. “For the moment, it’s Fife’s call. Is he causing trouble up there?”

  Chakotay had been briefed on Demeter’s odd command structure. O’Donnell was the senior officer and titular captain. But when Command staffed the fleet they had specifically assigned O’Donnell a first officer with command level and tactical experience to compensate for O’Donnell’s deficiencies. Fife reported to O’Donnell, but when it came to daily operations and hostile encounters, for the most part, O’Donnell deferred to Fife. For every other aspect of Demeter’s mission profile, a science vessel equipped to grow and house a wide variety of botanical life and to study unusual discoveries of the same, O’Donnell was in charge.

  Still, Chakotay found it hard to understand how any ship’s captain wouldn’t be on the bridge at this moment.

  “Commander Fife is acquitting himself admirably,” Chakotay replied. “But my concern is for your ship’s safety. You should consider falling back a bit until we have thoroughly evaluated the area.”

  “Fall back how far?” O’Donnell asked. “The Alpha Quadrant?”

  Chakotay was sorely tempted to end this exchange by pulling rank, but he knew he had to find a way to make this unusual situation work.

  Finally, he replied, “For now, we’ll both continue our explorations. Advise Commander Fife that at the first sign of trouble, Demeter should move immediately out of the area and let Voyager take the lead. In addition, he should keep an open channel with Voyager and coordinate with us before testing the field in any way or maneuvering too close to it.”

  “Anything else we can get you?” O’Donnell asked. “You guys hungry?”

  “If you disagree with my assessment, Commander . . .” Chakotay began, emphasizing his rank.

  “I didn’t say that, sir,” O’Donnell replied. “I realize Voyager has had a rough few weeks, and I appreciate that your ship took the brunt of Fife’s reckless actions with the Children of the Storm. But, as best I can tell, my people have a firm a grasp on this discovery, and assuming you’re willing to allow it, they might even surprise you by contributing to the work ahead. Fife knows our limits. And he’s not going to put us, and by extension, you in any unnecessary danger. If things go south, he’ll do what’s right.”

  “You’re comfortable letting him take the lead on this?” Chakotay asked sincerely.

  “I know what he knows so far. Somebody out there who apparently went looking for help a long time ago thought it necessary to hide at least a parsec’s worth of space. I’m sure everybody else working the problem will figure out how they did it soon enough. In the meantime, I’m sitting here wondering why.”

  “If you asked that question of your bridge officers, they might have some valuable input to offer,” Chakotay suggested.

  O’Donnell shrugged. “I think better when I’m alone. But when I come up with something, you’ll be the first to know.”

  “Just so we’re clear,” Chakotay began.

  “Yes, yes, yes, yours is the last word out here, Captain. I know that. Fife does too. But, as long as we’re out here together, just the two of us, why don’t you let me handle my ship and you handle yours, unless we prove ourselves unworthy of that modicum of respect.”

  Chakotay nodded, stung, but not entirely surprised. Eden had briefed him on O’Donnell’s personal quirks. Despite them, she considered him a valuable resource, and Chakotay knew it would be unwise to dismiss her judgment. But it had taken minutes for Chakotay’s vague misgivings to ratchet up to concern.

  “Both you and Lieutenant Commander
Fife have my respect, Commander,” Chakotay replied. “You also have been advised of my concerns. Keep the lines of communication open as things develop.”

  “Will do.” O’Donnell nodded.

  Chakotay signed off, frustrated. He had more than enough on his plate without navigating Demeter’s unique command structure. Fife had lost Chakotay’s trust the moment he’d turned against his captain when they faced the Children of the Storm. Despite O’Donnell’s apparent confidence, from Chakotay’s point of view, Fife had a ways to go before he earned it back. O’Donnell might be a genius, but that didn’t make him a leader. What was Command thinking? Chakotay wondered for the hundredth time since he’d returned to Voyager’s center seat.

  Setting his grim thoughts aside, Chakotay returned to his bridge.

  Chapter Six

  STARFLEET HEADQUARTERS, SAN FRANCISCO

  By the time the Galen arrived at McKinley Station, Kathryn Janeway was more than ready to meet with Admiral Montgomery. Although she expected most of her time to be spoken for over the next few weeks, as she bid farewell to Icheb, Janeway promised to check in with him and encouraged Icheb to apply himself diligently to his studies. She had spoken briefly to the Doctor and Reg and asked that they keep her apprised of their work on Starbase 185. Given the uncertainty of her position, she could not make this an order. Their friendship made it unnecessary. They had offered her any support they could provide, and she accepted it with gratitude.

  Admiral Kenneth Montgomery’s aide admitted her to his office without hesitation. Clearly she had been expected. As Montgomery rose from his desk to offer his hand, Janeway was struck by how much he seemed to have aged in the last year. He had maintained a lean, toned build well past the time many admirals had let their bodies go to seed. His deeply tanned skin lent an air of health, in spite of ragged lines, but his gray eyes, while alert as ever, were now rimmed with dark circles. His fair, sandy hair was more generously flecked with silver. But most telling was his movement. Where once she would have described him as spry, he now carried himself like a man who had recently taken several body blows and was still tender.

  His relief at seeing her seemed genuine enough, though his smile might have been a bit forced as he said, “Kathryn, so good to see you again.”

  “And you, Ken,” she replied, taking his hand and shaking it firmly.

  “Your journey was uneventful?” he asked.

  Janeway had never possessed much patience for small talk. This morning, her reserves were thoroughly depleted.

  “Why am I here, Ken?” she asked simply. “On your orders, I have just left the vast majority of the people most dear to me in the universe tens of thousands of light-years from my aid or Starfleet’s. They’ve been through hell for the last five months, and while they remain ever ready to do their duty, they are no longer properly equipped to do so. I realize there are those among Command inclined to question my ability to lead, given the unusual circumstances of my return, as well as the actions I have taken in the past. But I didn’t get the impression that you were one of them.”

  Montgomery shook his head as he moved to lean his back against his desk and cross his arms.

  “You haven’t changed a bit, have you?” he observed lightly.

  Having successfully released a little steam, Janeway relaxed a smidge. “Of course I have,” she replied honestly. “You don’t visit the Q Continuum and experience your life and death in countless alternate universes without gaining a little perspective and humility. Choices I made with the best of intentions unraveled into the most horrific ends. I know a little time spent taking stock is warranted. But before I begin, I need to know something.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Is the choice you gave me two weeks ago still mine to make?”

  Montgomery’s eyes met hers briefly.

  “Maybe,” he replied honestly.

  “Maybe?”

  “As you have no doubt surmised, it is no longer my call.”

  Janeway assumed a more defensive posture, crossing her arms and stepping toward him. “What changed?”

  “When I first extended the offer for you to assume command of what is left of the Full Circle fleet, I based that decision on the reports filed by Captains Eden and Chakotay and our initial conversations. Since then, my office has been flooded with inquiries from superior officers, raising concerns about that decision.”

  “Is the pressure coming from above or below?” Janeway asked.

  “Both,” Montgomery replied.

  “What do I have to do to ease your mind?”

  “Were you any other ranking officer who had just undergone trauma on the field of battle, I would tell you to answer all the inquiries of your evaluators honestly and succinctly and to analyze, as dispassionately as possible, your ability to cope with the stresses resuming command will bring.”

  “I’m no longer just any ranking officer?” Janeway asked.

  “You died, Kathryn; or came close to it. Yes, other officers have died and been resurrected in various ways, but none of them immediately resumed duties on par with command of the Full Circle fleet. It is difficult for us to evaluate your experiences because they fall too far outside the bounds of our understanding.

  “And your ‘near death,’ shall we say, came as a result of a particularly brutal form of assimilation.”

  “I’m not the only officer serving Starfleet who survived assimilation.”

  “No,” Montgomery agreed. “But it’s more than that. The bond you share with those who served with you in the Delta Quadrant is unique. It was forged under extreme circumstances, and in many ways, can be considered an asset. But it is possible that you lost sight of the fact that those you led served something bigger than themselves or you. You have made choices in the past that arguably blur the line between the obligations of command and the needs of those you think of as family.

  “Leadership requires, above all, perspective. I’m not sure that when it comes to ‘your people,’ you have sufficient perspective to make giving you command of them appropriate.”

  “You think I put their needs ahead of what’s best for Starfleet or the Federation?”

  “I don’t know. Can you stand here and honestly tell me without a doubt that you trust yourself to let them risk what they must to do what duty requires? Has coming so close to your own demise, and theirs, at the hands of Omega not affected your ability to make instantaneous judgments unclouded by personal considerations? They’re not your family, Admiral. They don’t need a mother, a lover, or a friend. They need a commanding officer. Can you ever be just that to them?”

  Had the question not been at the forefront of her mind for weeks, Janeway might have been able to summon an immediate affirmative response. Further, Montgomery’s use of the word “lover” suggested to her that someone had been telling tales out of school. There were only a handful of people who knew that her relationship with Chakotay was more than professional.

  “That’s why you’re here,” Montgomery finished.

  Janeway nodded. “I understand,” she replied. “But I do have one more question.”

  “Please,” Montgomery offered.

  “If I decide it is no longer in my best interest, or theirs, to resume command, who will take my place?”

  “That should not figure into your calculations, Admiral,” Montgomery replied.

  Janeway nodded again. It was a strange sensation to feel so powerless after so many years of wielding considerable authority.

  “Admiral Montgomery?” The voice of his aide interrupted them.

  “Yes?” he barked.

  “Admiral Akaar and Vice Admiral Verdell have arrived.”

  “Show them in at once,” Montgomery replied.

  The doors to his office slid open, and the frame was filled by Starfleet’s commander in chief, Admiral Leonard James Akaar, a Capellan mountain of a man who carried himself like a well-fortified building. Janeway had met Akaar before he had risen to his present post, but sh
e still found his physical presence awe-inspiring. His personal history and sterling record were the only things more impressive than the man.

  Behind him, a portly officer—who barely reached Akaar’s elbows—with serious eyes and a pronounced cranial ridge entered. He appeared to be perhaps a decade older than Janeway. She assumed this was Verdell.

  With two full strides, Akaar was beside her and immediately extended his hand to Janeway. “I apologize for my tardiness, Admiral. I meant to be here when you arrived.”

  “Thank you, Admiral, but it is entirely unnecessary,” she replied with sincere appreciation.

  “On the contrary, Admiral Janeway, on behalf of all of Starfleet, I wish to welcome you home. I’ve been briefed on your encounter with the Omega Continuum. I am pleased that you and the fleet’s crew were able to end the threat it posed. I would also like to offer my personal condolences on the losses you suffered.”

  Janeway nodded, swallowing hard. “Thank you, sir.”

  “Allow me to introduce you to Vice Admiral Verdell,” Akaar continued, gesturing to his right. Verdell shook Janeway’s hand with a solid grip, his face betraying little beyond polite acknowledgment.

  “A pleasure, Admiral,” he said, his cadence rather clipped.

  “Admiral,” Janeway replied.

  “Verdell has been brought up to speed on the progress of the Full Circle fleet and will have many questions for you in the coming weeks. I know your time for the foreseeable future will be at a premium,” Akaar continued. “I am certain there are many people here on Earth you are eager to see. While I do not wish to overburden you, I would appreciate it if you would make a priority of familiarizing yourself with the many changes to our political, tactical, and strategic landscape.”

  “Of course,” Janeway said.

  “It has been a year of unexpected developments, Admiral. But I do not doubt that your expertise and knowledge will aid Starfleet tremendously going forward.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “I assume she has an office?” Akaar inquired of Montgomery.