STAR TREK: Strange New Worlds I

by Dean Wesley Smith (Editor)

  Janeway still said nothing, only held her head in her hands. “It was their own fault,” Chakotay said again. “They were so eager to advance their cause, they didn’t take the time to learn what they were dealing with.”

  “There’s an old saying on Earth,” Janeway mused. “ ‘Education is paramount.’ Appears that’s true.” Her eyes became distant for a second. “Chakotay,” she began slowly, “you said that the flare they created was unfocused.”

  “Right. And huge. They couldn’t—” He stopped and breathed deeply, quickly. “Captain, a flare that powerful—

  “Get us to Dernovin. Fast.”

  Voyager had been drifting for over four weeks, but a powered starship can make much better time than one floating free. It was only minutes before the vessel’s crew had determined their position and rushed toward Dernovin.

  What they found was not an ideal situation.

  The moon was completely unharmed. The failure of the Trevins to focus the solar flare properly caused it to miss the tiny world cleanly. Dernovin itself was not so lucky. The flare was not so misaimed that it avoided any contact at all; in fact, the unfocused flare’s radiation ripped into a city on the planet’s northern continent. Power had not been shut down, as had been planned for the moon; it had been [352] disrupted, and released. Every conduit for miles around had surged with energy, and simultaneous explosions had engulfed the entire city.

  “We don’t expect to find anyone alive in Gortella.”

  Dernovin’s Grand Minister sat somberly in front of a viewscreen, his image transmitted instantaneously to the starship Voyager in orbit. Gortella was now a smoldering ash pile, though rescue teams were still combing through wreckage in distant hopes of saving at least one life. They hadn’t yet succeeded.

  “I’m so sorry, Minister,” Janeway effused, still horrified by the destruction of which she’d learned just moments ago. “I assure you, this was not an act of the Federation or this vessel’s rightful crew. We had no idea—”

  “I know it’s not your fault, Captain Janeway,” the Minister assured her, with almost as much displaced anger as reassurance. “The Trevin were more than happy to take credit for this atrocity. They’ve been a dubious resource ever since they were annexed a century ago. I always thought they were more dangerous than they let on—more trouble than they were worth, frankly. Well, I was proved right thirty-one days ago. They are trouble.”

  “Minister, we have a strict policy of noninterference in the affairs of other societies or governments,” Janeway said, “but I must say, the Trevin do have legitimate issues to take up with Dernovin, and they’ve shown they’re willing to fight you. A peaceful settlement would be in everyone’s best interests. I would be happy to mediate—”

  “That won’t be necessary,” the Minister interrupted. “The Trevin problem has been eliminated.”

  Janeway hesitated. “Eliminated?”

  [353] “After this incident, the Council was easily convinced to let me do what I’ve wanted for years. The Trevin colony on Draanis IV was a den of violent individuals. Their deaths were a victory for peace and justice.”

  The bridge was in shock. Chakotay shot up from his seat and tried to speak, but it came out a wheeze: “You executed—”

  Janeway gave him a sharp glance, a warning: It’s not our affair. We’ve been dragged in too much already. Chakotay reluctantly held his tongue. The captain turned back to the Minister. She could not find words immediately, but the Minister had no such difficulties.

  “Now, Captain, I believe you mentioned there was one survivor of the attack on our world on your ship?”

  Janeway recovered her composure. “Ye—yes. Renaii. She didn’t play a direct part in the attack; she oversaw the computer program in which my crew was confined.”

  “I would like to extradite her from your detention facility, for trial and punishment here.”

  Janeway looked back at Chakotay. His eyes had become glazed over. She turned back, trying to think of ways to keep Renaii from certain execution. “She was more directly involved with crimes against my own crew. I want to keep her on board and—”

  “Captain, she was part of an operation that destroyed an entire city and everyone in it, on my planet,” the Minister said harshly. “I demand her extradition.”

  His case was compelling. “I can’t, in good conscience, keep her from ... justice,” Janeway replied, blank.

  “Very good,” the Minister responded. “I’m glad we could work together smoothly.”

  [354] “Glad we could work together.” She wasn’t.

  The security officer had been dismissed, leaving only the transporter technician behind his chamber of transparent aluminum, which blocked enough sound to allow him to hear only the one word he needed to perform his duty. Chakotay and Renaii’s conversation would not be intruded upon.

  “So this is it?” Renaii stood on the transporter pad, her face pleading. “My whole culture is dead, and you’re sending me down to the people that killed it?”

  “You’re being tried for your crimes,” Chakotay answered, as stolidly as he could.

  “Come on, Chakotay,” she said. “We both know they’re just going to execute me. There’s no such thing as a fair trial for a Trevin on Dernovin.”

  “We’re obligated by our own laws to turn you over to their government.”

  “You’re obligated to send me to my death for fighting for freedom?”

  Chakotay let his anger loose then. “You imprisoned me. You imprisoned everyone I hold dear. You didn’t even tell anyone they were imprisoned! And to top it off, you used the closest thing we have to a home as a weapon of war.”

  “And I betrayed you.”

  Chakotay was stung with his own emotions thrown in front of him. “And you betrayed me.”

  “I was doing my job. I never wanted to hurt you.”

  “You led me to believe you were in love with me,” he spat. “And your scientists implanted memories of love in me [355] so I would be duped by you. Call me crazy, but I don’t exactly call that playing fair.”

  “I had implanted memories too, Chakotay. And even though I knew they were false, they contained love for you as well. I did love you.”

  “And yet you kept right on lying to me.”

  She threw her arms in the air. “I had no choice! I couldn’t sacrifice the mission for my own personal reasons!”

  “And I can’t shirk my duty to save someone I’ve been convinced I love.”

  She gazed at him. “ ‘Convinced,’ ” she said. “All right. If that makes you feel better. All your feelings toward me were manufactured. You don’t have to worry about your love for me—it wasn’t real.”

  Chakotay glared straight into her eyes. “Just like yours.”

  She never got to open her mouth.

  “Energize,” came the key word from Chakotay’s lips. The technician pressed a memorized series of touchpads, and Renaii disappeared in a silver shimmer.

  I, Voyager

  Jackee C.

  [From the memory records of Awnedre]

  Warmth of sunshine fell gently on my newly taken form. I thrilled at the delicate wings at my back, flitting, twitching, allowing me to spring forth to a lovely red blossom. The inviting softness of its petals encompassed this form’s limited visual perception; but I didn’t mind. This outing was for exploration, my final steps toward adulthood.

  Something clicked on the edge of my mental perception ... something decidedly different, infinitely more interesting than crystal tending. I turned at the speed of thought and saw ... reached ... and touched a mind ... Hers. She. Captain Kathryn Janeway is how she thought herself. That’s her designation.

  She was turned toward another, laughing. The other was very dark, and stiff. He thought himself Tuvok. His mind was very ordered, at sharp angles and not very inviting. I was so caught up in my Immersing with these beings that I didn’t watch where I was going. I flew right into the dark material of Captain Kathryn Janeway’s uniform
.

  I was surprised at the way her mind focused so directly [357] onto me. The sense of awe and wonder I perceived was unlike anything I’d felt from the other minor beings on this world; it was mesmerizing. I turned in my flight for a deeper look.

  She held out a hand toward me. Unable to resist, I settled softly upon it.

  “Tuvok,” she spoke physically, a whisper. Her voice was very interesting. I could feel the sound waves wash over me in gentle pulses. “Look at this beautiful creature.”

  Tuvok eyed me with obvious disinterest, his darker eyes and features dispassionate. “That appears to be a rather large butterfly, not unlike the canias found on Hypras 7.” His voice was not so soft as Captain Kathryn Janeway’s.

  “Yes.” She smiled indulgently. “But look at the way the light plays against its wings. It’s beautiful.” Her eyes returned to my form as she continued to gaze in wonder. Then gently lifting her hand skyward, she continued to speak, but directed her words toward me.

  “Fly away, little fellow,” she said. I lifted into the air and dropped the physical persona. I wanted to know more about this one. And to do that I’d have to leave this limited form behind.

  She gasped. “Did you see that?!”

  “Indeed,” Tuvok replied, removing an instrument, a tricorder, from a clip at his waist. “There is nothing here, Captain,” he concluded after making several sweeps with the device. I expanded so as to avoid the gentle energy particles that fanned the area.

  “I have a difficult time believing that was a natural phenomenon,” she murmured, casting her Vulcan friend a look before tapping an instrument on her chest. I moved in for a closer look at the obviously mechanical device. I saw the [358] inner machinery communicating on a very simple principle but in complex patterns at her tap.

  “Janeway to Voyager.”

  “Voyager here,” a male voice sounded. At the sound, a myriad conflicting emotions washed over and nearly overwhelmed me. I pulled away from the device and limited my perceptions to her. She was clear and determined; it burned in her features.

  “Commander, run a level-1 scan within a hundred-kilometer radius of my signal.”

  “Acknowledged. Is there something the matter, Captain?” the voice returned.

  Ready now for the contact, I reached along the link toward the other mind. Through the carrier wave of the combadge, at the speed of thought, I found him. The initial rush of emotion that I’d perceived had abated. This mind ... Chakotay he thought himself ... was now curious, seeking an answer as well. Something vague and obscure, though, hovered in the distant recesses. I could not touch them easily unless he brought them to the fore.

  “Perhaps,” Captain Kathryn Janeway replied, her voice interrupting my curiosity. But Chakotay’s mind called her “Kathryn” in the most compelling way. His perception of her as such was so sharp that I immediately chose to do the same. She continued.

  “A life-form, very similar to a butterfly, just landed on my hand. ...”

  A smile. A mental picture so strikingly accurate as to be shocking assailed me. Even her expression of awe was present. These creatures were definitely more than I’d initially thought.

  [359] Kathryn continued to speak. “I told it to fly away, and it did. And then it shimmered right out of existence. We can find no evidence of it with the tricorder.”

  A frown now covered Chakotay’s features as he struggled with some memory. Something very old and trapped beneath another, but he could not bring it forward. I moved in closer, curious. I caught only a hint of blue sky and barren ground before he gave up, obscuring it again.

  “That’s ... strange,” he replied aloud, a slight catch of confusion evident in his voice.

  “What is it, Chakotay?” she asked, not missing the slight nuance in his voice.

  “Uh, nothing, Captain,” he replied, gathering himself, fighting some small embarrassment.

  “All right. Janeway out.” She hadn’t really believed him, and she was right. I waited. It wasn’t long before his mind turned to the memory records that would reveal more.

  He began by trying to recapture the buried memory, toying with the spot, déjà vu, his mind called it. Very interesting, these creatures. I thought of opening myself to another of the minds in this place, but a small jolt hit me.

  A familiar pattern on the console had broken into Chakotay’s mental meandering, dragging me along. The storm was coming. It looked so beautiful from here, on this ship’s instruments. My family would be there; I could hear them calling to me already. But how would I return to the surface?

  “Voyager to Janeway,” Chakotay’d provided the way for me. I leapt on the carrier and trailed it home. I could hear his thoughts and words along the beam. “There’s one heck of a storm brewing, Captain. Suggest you and the away [360] team return to Voyager. The ionic radiation is nearly off ... sc ...”

  “Understood, Commander,” Kathryn answered, looking toward the rapidly graying sky. It was strange but the clouds were lined with some sort of shimmery silver effect. The winds were picking up even as she spoke. “The levels seem to be affecting communications as well. Have the transporter room standing by.”

  “U........d, C ... tain.”

  “Tuvok.” Kathryn turned toward her Vulcan just as large pellets of rain began to fall. “You bring the rest of the team into the meadow. I’ll go get the sample cases!” The winds were gusting strongly enough to nearly knock her over.

  “Aye!” Tuvok replied, and moved toward the cluster of people several hundred yards away.

  Kathryn moved in the opposite direction, toward a small ravine. I saw a case that must have been hers perched atop a rock in the vicinity. It had fallen over and the contents were beginning to spill out. Clear blue crystals peeked from within.

  I could hear the “voices” of my people crying out on the winds, in the storms in telepathic fury. *No! No! It must not take what is sacred!*

  By the time she’d collected the blue orbs into the case, Tuvok and the rest were on their way( toward her position. She leaned her back up against the rock and dug her heels in. Removing her combadge, she proceeded to adjust the strength so as to boost the signal on her end.

  As the group gathered near, she wrapped one arm around the case and yelled into the combadge. “Voyager, six to beam up!” The crew stood as closely together as possible, [361] then a spire of cohesive energy began to separate their atoms. They were being transferred ... transported.

  *NO!!*

  One of the beams was broken off as a burst of angry lightning fell from among my kin. I looked on in shocked horror as Kathryn reeled back semicohesive, and fell over the dropoff into the ravine. The blue orbs returned to their home within the ground, and the crew returned to the ship. I returned with them.

  The tingle was odd. A very different way to travel indeed. All of the minds were one with my mind, all their physiology, all of them, was me for several seconds. As everyone coalesced, they immediately slumped on the platform. I could feel the nausea that washed over the group. Immediately grasping that something was wrong, I determined not to ride in that device again.

  While other members of the team continued in their illness, Tuvok rose to his feet and looked about himself. “Where is Captain Janeway?”

  “I’m trying to get a lock on her now,” the technician responded. “I’ve got something; the phase variation that was present with the first transport is no longer present. Resetting parameters and energizing ... now.”

  Tuvok’s clinical mind followed a precise set of guidelines as he considered ordering the ill crew members to sickbay. But he thought better of it as they were humans and would no doubt want to wait for assurance of their captain’s safety.

  A small device shimmered into existence on the transporter pad. Kathryn’s combadge.

  I searched for and found Chakotay. His mind was relieved, it emanated from every pore. He’d checked the [362] sensor logs and found that the comm signals of all the away team members were aboard. I
had to change that. It took a bit of doing, but I slipped my memory of Kathryn’s beam being separated from the others over his active thoughts.

  He squeezed his eyes shut as the image of Kathryn’s beam-out played on. I felt the shock that ran through him as the lightning separated her, knocked her over the rise into the ravine.

  His eyes flew open in sudden anxiety and latched onto the level-1 scanning output that ran in the corner of his console’s screen. There was something odd about the storm, some sort of electromagnetic disturbances that were growing exponentially, making transport impossible. He lamented his inability to get a decent scan through the “soup.”

  The turbolift door slid open, revealing Tuvok. Nothing in his manner indicated the deep unrest within over the location and condition of his friend and captain, nor the nausea that still plagued him.

  “Report,” Chakotay ordered, even as he tried to come to terms with the vision he’d seen. I was amazed and disappointed at the way he’d shoved the anxiety away from the fore.

  Tuvok reported the problems with the transport out and the fact that they were only able to get the captain’s combadge. Chakotay calmly asked for Tuvok’s suggestions on how the captain’s combadge might have been separated from its owner. It was obvious from Tuvok’s and the crew’s manner that no one detected the inner horror that’d speared through Chakotay when he’d learned that bit of information; his concentration had slipped for a second.

  “She was holding the device in her hand during [363] beam-out,” Tuvok replied to the question. “It may simply be that she dropped it, and did not find it before it was beamed aboard.”

  Chakotay nodded. It was logical, and the facts fit. It also fit with the vision of her beam being separated from the others. But what of the ravine? I sensed the statement he would make before he said it “Estimated time until the storm is over?”

  “Two hours and forty-two minutes,” the answer came from the helm.