Janeway’s head was suddenly light. She had committed Picard’s reports about the Borg to memory without ever making this simple connection.
“Q.”
“Q. He first threw us into the path of the Borg. Guinan told me that event had happened several years before it should have. I don’t pretend to understand how Guinan knew such a thing, but she’s never lied to me. Had Q been so wise, or so committed to safeguarding his eventual offspring, he would never have erred so casually. Q said he meant to frighten us, to put us in our place.
“His anger is not with you, Kathryn. Q knows his blame in this. His anger was misplaced because, however briefly, he could not bear to level it against himself, where it belongs.”
“You don’t think he’ll come after me?”
“For all we know, he has. Q could have ended your life countless times, but none would have brought him comfort. I dare say he regrets his folly now because it has revealed a weakness he would die rather than admit.”
“He’s more like us than he would ever wish to be,” Janeway realized.
Picard nodded. “I wouldn’t spend another moment worrying about his retribution, Kathryn.”
“Believe it or not, I haven’t been.”
“Then, what?”
“The Full Circle fleet has suffered catastrophic losses in the last few months. Four ships out of nine remain, and right now only two are still in the Delta Quadrant. Admiral Montgomery asked me to assume command of the fleet, but then rescinded the offer. I’ve been brought home to undergo a series of evaluations, I believe at Admiral Akaar’s insistence.”
“Annoying, I’ll grant you,” Picard said, “but not entirely unexpected.”
“I’ve only met with one of my counselors so far,” she went on, “but I don’t think he was chosen for this assignment to aid me in any way. If he was, he is incredibly ill-equipped to do so.”
“I’ve been through more than one of those sessions myself, Kathryn. Keep your head down, answer them honestly, and you’ll do fine.”
“I don’t know, Jean-Luc,” Janeway admitted. “I don’t think they want me out there.”
“Will they recall the fleet?”
“It doesn’t look like it, but they can’t have high hopes for their success if they leave them out there under strength.”
Picard turned to look her directly in her eyes and asked, “Do you want the post?”
The question tormented her. When the command was hers, she had accepted it almost grudgingly and certainly with doubts. Chakotay’s assurances had quieted them, but they had soon come roaring back with a vengeance. The moment it was taken from her, her determination to reclaim it had become so all-consuming it was difficult to trust.
“Would you?” Janeway asked. “Tens of thousands of light-years beyond Starfleet’s aid in the wilds of unexplored space, with so many lives to protect?”
Quietly, Picard replied. “We’ve been tasked with putting the best possible face on the Federation’s rebuilding efforts. What you describe sounds like pure heaven to me right now.”
“I don’t know if I am the best person for the job or if all I’ve experienced has broken me in some elemental way. I don’t know if the errors of my past are so egregious they make me unfit for command. I don’t know if the deep and abiding love and respect I have for those who have served with me for so many years has left me unable to lead them.”
“The ability to admit that you do not know is the surest indication of your enduring strength, Kathryn,” he insisted. “Absolute certainty might seem comforting, but is actually proof that you’ve given up. You will learn no more once you have decided you know. Yes, it’s harder to live with the certainty that you don’t know, that you will surely fail again. But it is essential if you intend to take command of that fleet.”
Janeway smiled. “I’ve been told I have work to do before I even contemplate my future; that if I do not take time to process all I’ve experienced, it will hinder my ability to be an effective leader.”
Picard came just shy of rolling his eyes. “And did those who offered this advice give you any indication of how long that might take? Life doesn’t stop at our convenience. And perhaps this ‘processing’ is best done in the company of those you trust the most.”
The Enterprise’s captain leaned forward. “Do you know when to ask for help?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” she asked.
“Does your heart still skip a beat when the simplest or greatest wonder appears before your eyes?”
“It does,” she said.
“And when the tide finally turns again in your favor, are you humbled with gratitude?”
“Absolutely.” She nodded.
“Then you are alive and functioning as well as the rest of us. I know it isn’t that simple, Kathryn, but it has become so for me. I was terrified before my son was born that I had finally gone too far, dared to grasp for too much happiness. Now that he is here, those fears are confirmed, but completely powerless. I’ve made mistakes, been broken by evil, and wished fervently for my life to be taken from me. The past will never change. But my imperfect past brought me here, and it’s a remarkable place to be. All I’ve suffered, all you have suffered, Kathryn, has not made us weak. It has made us wise.”
“I belong there,” she said softly.
“You do,” he said with a gentle smile.
“But they may not allow me to return,” Janeway said, giving voice to her darkest fear.
“They?” Picard asked. “Do what I do.”
“Ask for forgiveness rather than permission?” she asked.
“Exactly,” he replied. “Proceed as if all you want has already been granted to you. Become the solution they require. Don’t worry about doing what you’re told. Do what you must.”
“Thank you, Jean-Luc,” Janeway said.
“I haven’t told you anything you don’t already know,” he insisted.
“But there are times it is good to be reminded nonetheless,” she said. Placing her cup on the table before her, she rose. “I have taken too much of your time.”
“Not at all,” he assured her, standing and extending his hand.
As she took it she said, “It occurs to me that you might harbor some ulterior motives here.”
“How so?”
“If I return to the Delta Quadrant for the next few years, I will be unavailable to question your every move.”
“The thought had crossed my mind, Admiral,” he teased gently.
“I hope you know . . .” Janeway began as her thoughts turned back to the last time they had spoken and the way he had flouted her direct orders.
“You weren’t entirely wrong,” Picard admitted. “My efforts to stop that cube were a dismal failure, mitigated only by the brilliance of my crew.”
“Do us all a favor and keep failing,” Janeway said seriously.
SAN FRANCISCO
Admiral Leonard James Akaar was relieved when he received word of Admiral Janeway’s incoming transmission. He’d heard enough of Ambassador Florian’s dismay with the accommodations for his delegation aboard the Aventine as they were ferried to Betazed. Apologizing curtly, he accepted Janeway’s call. His personal aide, Lieutenant Clarington, stood ready to take any appropriate notes.
“Admiral Janeway,” he greeted her briskly.
“I have a question for you, Admiral.” Janeway began.
“Go ahead.”
“Right now, almost a thousand former crew members of the Full Circle fleet are awaiting reassignment. I have a post for many of them, if you approve.”
Intrigued, he said, “What?”
“A slipstream-enabled vessel is lying in pieces at Utopia Planitia.”
“If you are referring to the ship I think you are, you should know it took a hell of a beating during its test runs and was dismantled. She’ll never be space-worthy again.”
“Two months ago the Quirinal crash landed on a planet. More than sixty percent of its systems were catastroph
ically damaged and sixteen decks were ripped open. The crew of Achilles had her flying again inside of six weeks. Don’t underestimate my people, Admiral,” Janeway said.
Akaar hesitated, but only momentarily. He had given considerable thought in the last few weeks to the ultimate disposition of Achilles and the remaining crews of Quirinal, Esquiline, Hawking, and Curie. He had also harbored grave doubts about leaving Voyager in the Delta Quadrant with only Demeter and Galen. Starfleet’s resources were stretched to the point of breaking at the moment, but that didn’t change the Full Circle fleet’s needs. It had taken Kathryn Janeway all of two days to solve these problems.
Akaar liked that in those he commanded.
“Have you run this proposal by Admiral Montgomery?” Akaar asked, wondering if Ken had suggested that she should still consider the fleet’s personnel hers.
“The last time we spoke, Ken said that no resources could be spared. I just wanted to make sure he was right,” Janeway replied, not giving an inch.
“I’ll advise him immediately that I have approved your request, Admiral,” Akaar stated. She wasn’t observing the chain of command. But he had yet to meet a Starfleet officer of any worth who did when they knew they were right and time was of the essence. Akaar suspected Janeway was aware that he was the one now preventing her reinstatement.
“Thank you, Admiral,” Janeway said. “I’ll issue new orders at once for Captain Drafar, Captain Farkas, and Lieutenant Vorik.”
“Carry on,” Akaar said, signing off.
When the channel had closed, Lieutenant Carrington, clearly worried that she had missed something, asked, “Has Admiral Janeway been reinstated as commander of the Full Circle fleet?”
“No,” Akaar replied evenly.
Carrington didn’t need to voice her obvious confusion.
“Admiral Janeway has just proven that she’s going to do all she can to keep them safe,” Akaar clarified for her.
“Are you reconsidering your reservations about her fitness, Admiral?”
“Not at all, Lieutenant,” Akaar replied, then ordered, “get me Admiral Montgomery.”
Chapter Eleven
VOYAGER
A week of analysis by both Voyager and Demeter had begun to yield interesting results. Chakotay’s morning had begun with a call from Lieutenant Kim asking that he join him in Voyager’s main shuttle bay. When he started to leave the bridge, Lieutenant Lasren was just beginning his duty shift and was eager to provide a report to Chakotay. The captain ordered Waters to remain at ops for a few minutes and asked Lasren to accompany him to the shuttlebay.
“Lieutenant Vincent and I have now confirmed that this asteroid field is actually one of several within range of our scanners,” Lasren began.
“Vincent, the ops officer on Demeter?”
“Yes, sir,” Lasren confirmed.
“The Demeter was focusing her efforts on the planet,” Chakotay said.
“Vincent has been working with me in his off hours, and Seven’s most recent sensor enhancements came online in the middle of gamma shift,” Lasren replied.
“Remind me to order Seven to get some sleep,” Chakotay said semi-seriously. Lasren was still young enough to wonder if his captain meant it and discreet enough not to use his empathic abilities to check for himself.
“Shall I . . . ?” he began.
“It was a joke, Lieutenant,” Chakotay assured him.
“Vincent hypothesized, given the mass visible to our sensors, its relative motion, and its proximity to other planetary bodies, that this is not a typical asteroid field,” Lasren went on. “Normally, fields like this are the work of millions if not billions of years of accretion and collisions. What happened here happened in the last five hundred years, or less. There is also a discernible lack of metallic asteroids, but a higher than normal concentration of S-type bodies.”
Chakotay halted in the middle of the corridor, taking this in. “What could do this in five hundred years?” he asked.
“The destruction of dozens of planetary bodies by some very powerful energy weapons,” Lasren replied.
“Dozens?”
“Maybe more,” Lasren confirmed. “Long-range sensors now confirm the planetary debris extends throughout the mass once hidden by the cloaking matrix.”
Chakotay nodded somberly., “Half a millennium ago, someone or something moved through this area, essentially strip-mining every terrestrial planet it came across down to their cores.”
“They were efficient,” Lasren noted. “They took almost every resource available, reducing several star systems to dust and debris. A handful of larger gas giants remain around some of the primary stars, but they were otherwise quite thorough.”
“If Seven wasn’t certain that the Borg never made it out this far, I would say this sounds like something they might have done,” Chakotay mused.
“What is more troubling, however, is where it all went,” Lasren added.
Chakotay asked, “If they were harvesting resources for their own use, where are the ships or starbases or worlds where those resources were allocated?”
“It is not outside the realm of possibility that some sort of space-born life-form might have ingested them,” Lasren offered.
“Let’s hope not. But good work; keep it up,” Chakotay allowed as they reached the shuttlebay.
“Thank you, sir. I’ll see you on the bridge,” Lasren replied.
“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Chakotay said, dismissing him.
As he entered the shuttlebay, Chakotay immediately noticed a large metal fragment. Most of the shuttles usually housed here were currently on recon, or there would not have been room for it.
Harry Kim was speaking with a small group of officers, including Lieutenant Url from Demeter. Chakotay started to wonder if Captain O’Donnell actually needed any of his senior officers for anything. Let him run his ship. In the last week no further contacts had been made by the proctors or sentries, so O’Donnell could reasonably spare his tactical officer.
Kim’s face lit up as Chakotay approached. The metal fragment was scarred and pitted and had obviously once been part of a large vessel. It was heavily coated with interstellar dust and streaked with what appeared to be residue from high-energy weapon discharge. A small area near the aft end had obviously been recently scrubbed clean to reveal distinct alien markings.
“Report,” Chakotay said as he approached.
“We’ve found part of a hull of an alien vessel, sir,” Kim replied, confirming the captain’s initial assessment.
“Has the computer been able to translate these?” Chakotay asked, indicating the markings.
“It is incomplete: ‘the Worlds of the First Quadrant,’ ” Kim replied.
“The First Quadrant?” Chakotay asked.
Kim shrugged. “Maybe they never got the memo about the Alpha Quadrant, sir,” he joked. “This fragment predates the founding of the Federation.”
“How old is it?” Chakotay asked.
“Metallurgic analysis places it between three hundred and three hundred fifty years old,” Kim said.
“Any signs of these ‘Worlds’ yet?”
“No, sir,” Kim said. “Lieutenant Lasren’s current analysis suggests they aren’t within our sensor range. They could begin where this cloaking matrix ends.”
“You’ve already read Lasren’s report?” Chakotay asked.
“I helped Seven compile the data last night,” Kim replied.
“Your devotion to duty is admirable, Lieutenant,” Chakotay said, “but this isn’t a crisis situation. We’ve got time to spend out here. Normal duty shifts should be observed. I don’t want you or anyone else burning themselves out on this.”
Kim’s jaw tightened as he asked, “Then you haven’t spoken to Captain O’Donnell yet this morning?”
“No,” Chakotay replied.
“He’s heading over now,” Kim advised. “According to Url, he’s pretty concerned about conditions on the planet and has a proposal for you.�
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“I look forward to hearing it.” Chakotay nodded. “Keep me advised, and good work, Harry.”
“Thank you, sir.” Kim smiled, then added, “Lieutenant Patel and Doctor Sharak are also preparing a briefing on the origination of the wave forms.”
“Sounds like it’s going to be a busy morning,” Chakotay said.
As Chakotay turned back toward the shuttlebay entrance, two thoughts troubled him. The first was the identity and location of these “Worlds of the First Quadrant.” The second was if anyone on either ship was getting any sleep.
When Tom Paris emerged from his bedroom, in uniform and ready to finish whatever Miral had left on her breakfast plate, he tripped on a stack of small padds, scattering them over the deck.
What the . . . ? he thought, taking in the scene before him.
Miral was seated at the breakfast table, which had been pushed against the room’s far wall beneath the hastily repaired replicator. She was watching her mother with wide, curious eyes. An end table and coffee table that had once occupied their small seating area, along with his prized replicated antique television set, were piled haphazardly near the room’s door, and the short sofa had been pushed into a corner. Most of the deck was littered with padds, puzzles, toys, and small magnetic construction tiles along with several spherical objects that were covered with bright flashing lights and a few of which seemed to be playing various musical compositions. A small bassinet had also appeared and been placed where the unfortunate end table had once resided, next to the couch.
“Oh, good. You’re up,” B’Elanna said and offered him a quick peck on the cheek before moving past him into the doorway he had just vacated. Once there, she retrieved a small seat meant to be suspended by two elastic bands from the doorframe. As she began to install it, Tom crossed to Miral and kissed her good morning before settling himself in the seat opposite her.
“You’ve been up for a while then?” he asked.
“Couldn’t sleep,” B’Elanna replied. Her face glowed and her skin glistened with a thin layer of perspiration. Whatever she was doing, she was working hard at it and clearly enjoying herself.
Star Trek: Voyager - 042 - Protectors Page 15
