“Axum,” Riley began.
“Answer my question,” he demanded of Seven. “Do you understand the value of the gift you have just tossed aside?”
“I do,” Seven replied. “And it is possible that there are other threats out there that might best be answered through catomic interference. But I have not abdicated my right to live my life on my own terms. Not every crisis the universe faces is mine alone to solve.”
“I should never have refused the Caeliar,” Axum said bitterly.
“Perhaps not,” Seven agreed. “But you did.”
“For you,” he insisted.
“In time, I hope you will come to see that choice as one you made for yourself, Axum,” Seven said. “I have been where you are now. I know what it is to find oneself suddenly alone. I survived because I allowed others to help me remember how to live in a community but not solely for the community.”
“We will help you, Axum,” Riley interjected. “Starfleet has agreed to take us anywhere we want to go. We have not yet decided where that might be, or if all of us will make the journey. But you are welcome to come with us. We will never abandon you.”
“You have gained much more than you have lost, Axum,” Seven said. “One day, you will see. One day you will remember. Until then, I wish you peace.”
“Annika,” Axum said, reaching for her hand.
She stepped closer to him as Riley moved away to allow them a little privacy.
“I have done everything you asked of me. I showed you the true potential of your catoms. I let you go, I helped you save the children of Arehaz, together we cured the plague threatening your beloved Federation. But still, I am not worthy of your affection?”
“You lied to me. You used my feelings for you to confuse and blind me. I will not do the same to you. We both deserve better than that.
“Until you know who you are, you will never be capable of accepting my love, or anyone’s.” Seven continued, “You seek comfort, an escape from the pain of building a new life as an individual. Were I to agree to stay with you now, you would come to despise me. My presence would not give you the strength you need. It would only remind you daily of all you believe you have lost.”
“You would make it bearable.”
“It would be a lie.”
“I see.”
“If you need me,” Seven began.
“You will be on the far side of the galaxy, in the arms of another man,” Axum finished for her.
Seven recoiled, as if struck. “The anger you feel right now will pass.”
“I hope not.”
25
VOYAGER
Commander Liam O’Donnell had no difficulty locating Voyager’s briefing room, where Admiral Janeway awaited him. Demeter had arrived in orbit of the First World several hours before Voyager and Galen were due. He might have spent that time framing an argument in support of his command choices in the best light possible. Instead, he spent it with Brill and his staff, reviewing the new planting schedule and finalizing the hybrid seed selections he had made for New Talax. Captain Farkas had been headed in that direction, and he assumed the rest of the fleet would regroup with Vesta there when they departed the Confederacy.
As he made his way through Voyager’s halls, he turned his thoughts to the immediate future. Should Admiral Janeway take issue with his choice to take Bralt to the Ark Planet, he might be facing serious disciplinary action. She could return him to the Alpha Quadrant. It would pain him to be separated from his crew, especially now, as he had begun to understand how important they were becoming to him. O’Donnell found himself preparing to fight for the position he had grudgingly accepted a year earlier. That was unexpected, like so much of his life lately.
Admiral Janeway was seated at the head of the room’s only table when he entered. As she nodded for him to sit, her face held none of the warm congeniality with which she had greeted him aboard the Vesta at their first real meeting. Instead, appraising eyes met his. He suddenly gained a visceral appreciation for how his specimens must feel when he placed them under his microscope.
“Welcome back, Commander.”
“Admiral.”
“I have reviewed your report on Demeter’s tour of the Confederacy and your detour first to the Ark Planet and then back to Vitrum. I have also received a rather lengthy letter from Overseer Bralt thanking me profusely for allowing you to ‘devote yourself entirely to lifting the veil of ignorance under which he labored prior to your display of the protector’s capabilities.’ ”
O’Donnell smirked. That sounded like Bralt. “Is that . . .?”
“A direct quote, yes,” Janeway replied.
While part of O’Donnell hated the thought of owing a debt of gratitude to Rascha Bralt, he had to admit that the officious bureaucrat had grown slightly less repugnant over the last few weeks. It was painful to think that his career’s continuation might be credited to a man whose existence was defined by political expediency untethered to moral principles. But then, life was pain.
“At what point in your travels did you decide that your duty to the people of the Confederacy superseded your duty to this fleet?” Janeway asked.
“I never saw the two as incompatible,” O’Donnell replied. “You ordered me to review the Confederacy’s agricultural capabilities with an eye toward improving them.”
“Should a formal alliance be created,” Janeway noted.
“In my opinion, it was impossible to determine how best to help the Confederacy without knowing how receptive Overseer Bralt would be to the myriad possible improvements I could suggest to him. He embraced the potential the protectors provide his people, but had he not done so, I would have been forced to find other means to alleviate the suffering the current policies created.”
“So you were just being thorough?”
“It’s one of my worst faults.”
“Is there a reason that once you settled upon your preferred course of action, you did not choose to send word to the fleet before returning to the Ark Planet?”
“I never intended for our little educational sabbatical to delay our return to the fleet as long as it did. I made no secret of our intended destination or length of absence to the CIF vessel that had taken us to Vitrum. I apologize if I worried you.”
“I might be willing to accept that apology if I thought it was genuine, Commander.”
“Admiral, I understand that our mission is currently subject to an unusual level of scrutiny by Starfleet Command. But I’m not capable of allowing fear of reprisals or micromanaging administrators to dictate the demands of my conscience. I didn’t give Bralt the command codes to our vessels or access to our classified databases, nor did I offer aid to the thousands of starving residents of Vitrum, even when their misery offended me to my core. I asked the representative I had been assigned to advise to step outside his comfort zone, and I showed him the use we had made of a tool that was already at his disposal. I am guilty of forcing a small mind to think bigger, and if that is not the definition of my duty as a Starfleet officer, then perhaps I misunderstood what I was signing up for.”
“You put yourself and your ship in great danger in the process.”
“I’m pretty sure risk to life and limb was somewhere in the fine print, Admiral.”
Janeway shook her head. “There is nothing you would have done differently?”
“No, Admiral.”
“Good.”
“Admiral?”
“I can count on one hand the number of senior officers I have served with who would take that kind of initiative. You have done a great deal to effect meaningful, positive change here, and you earned the regard of the aliens with whom we were making first contact. While your methods are unconventional, they get results. You stepped right up to every line Starfleet has drawn to limit our actions but you never crossed them. I would have preferred to be advised of your intentions directly, but I’m guessing you were unwilling to risk the possibility that I would refuse you.”
/>
“The thought did cross my mind,” O’Donnell admitted.
“That’s because you and I don’t know each other all that well,” Janeway said, smiling faintly. “I could never fault you for taking the same action I would have in your place. Although I have to admit, you have just given me a great deal of insight into the challenges my commanding officers have faced over the years. I understand their pain. I’m also not going to allow my feelings or my needs to limit the potential of the officers I command. The fact that you are still assigned to this fleet as Demeter’s captain means I trust you until you give me reason to do otherwise.”
“Thank you, Admiral.”
“I’m on my way now to meet with Presider Cin for the last time. She’s asked that you join us so she can express her gratitude in person.”
“I’m honored, Admiral, but is that really necessary?”
“I’m afraid so, Commander.”
O’Donnell sighed. “Admiral, may I speak freely?”
“I’m fairly certain that ship has sailed.”
“I don’t think we should kid ourselves about accomplishing meaningful change here. Bralt’s choices were dictated by greed and a perverted sense of individual responsibility that exists to sustain the Confederacy’s power structure. I did not alter his basic beliefs. I merely pointed out an incredibly efficient means for him to dramatically increase productivity on planets that are in transition.”
“And managed to feed thousands of hungry people in the process,” Janeway noted.
“Does it matter that he’s feeding them for the wrong reasons?”
“Not to them or to me. That’s the most frustrating part of our work, Commander. Often, we only get to see the beginning of a story for the planets we encounter. Neither of us have any idea what the Confederacy will make of the insights gained from our time here. It has to be enough that we remained true to our values when confronted with a belief system that is radically different from our own.” After a moment she added, “When we began this mission, you had already decided it would end with disappointment. Is that still your assessment?”
O’Donnell shook his head. “I don’t know. There’s so much more we could do here, if they could just see . . .”
“That our way is better?”
“It is.”
“I agree. But our way is the result of thousands of years of individual beings grappling with their ignorance and clawing and scraping their way toward a more inclusive, harmonious future. We fall short of our own aspirations all the time. What matters is that we keep trying. And that we show compassion and respect for those we encounter. We’ve moved beyond the ideas that limit the potential of the Confederacy. They will do the same eventually. The universality of many of our beliefs among advanced civilizations we have encountered suggests to me an inevitable forward motion among all sentient life-forms, even if we don’t live long enough to see it come to fruition.”
“So we’re out here planting seeds?”
Janeway smiled. “In a way.”
O’Donnell returned her smile. “That, I can do.”
THE FIRST WORLD
Presider Cin’s official residence was a palatial edifice on a hill at the northern edge of the capital city. It was surrounded by park-like grounds. Rolling hills of green were interspersed with creeks that flowed down toward the heart of the business district. The tall tower where the ceremony of welcoming had been held could be seen kissing the sky in the distance.
Captain Chakotay had accompanied Admiral Janeway, Commander Glenn, and Commander O’Donnell to their final conference with the presider. As with most diplomatic events, the major points of discussion had been agreed upon by both sides prior to the meeting.
Chakotay stood silently by as Presider Cin thanked them all profusely for ridding the Confederacy of the threat of the Seriareen. Their discovery of the Obihhax was a well-guarded secret, for now, and no further exploration of the wastes was under contemplation. Continued study was warranted, but it would have to wait for a more politically favorable climate.
Cin had barely survived the vote of no confidence called by First Consul Dreeg. The presider enjoyed considerable support from the CIF, and their votes had helped her carry the day. Dreeg was licking his wounds but determined to continue to press his agendas. He had finally accepted there would be no transfer of technology from the Federation.
Praise was heaped on Commanders O’Donnell and Glenn. Chakotay was pleased to learn that Glenn had been busy while the Galen held position at the border of the wastes waiting for Voyager and the Third Calvert’s return. She had devoted herself to studying the bureaucracy and laws that applied to the clinics that served the Confederacy’s nonszit, or nonproductive members of society who had lost their rights as citizens. She had discovered, much to her surprise, that the central government had allocated resources for grants to other kinds of public service organizations when private donations ebbed. No medical clinic had ever applied for a grant. Most of the doctors were too busy saving lives to think about jumping through administrative hoops. Glenn had prepared a report that would assist Kwer, and others like her, in navigating the arcane bureaucracy to secure these grants. The commander had transmitted it to Kwer as soon as the fleet had regrouped in orbit of the First World. Cin was pleased to report that funds, which had gone unclaimed for years, were finally being allocated.
The presider had also advised them that she was closely monitoring the developments on Grysyen. Dreeg and the Consortium had dictated the government’s previous policy. It would take time to turn public opinion. The Unmarked had become a rallying point for Confederacy fears. They had been the name and face of the worst to which the nonszit might descend without appropriate motivation. To her credit, Cin understood the nuances of the situation and had quietly made overtures to the leaders of the rebellion on Grysyen. Her intention was to end the strife between the Unmarked and their government. Chakotay did not believe any solution would be easy to implement, but he was comforted by the presider’s willingness to try.
While no formal alliance could be contemplated at this time between the Federation and the Confederacy, Cin assured them that they would be departing as friends and that future contact would be anticipated with pleasure.
Given all they’d endured during the months the fleet had spent with the Confederacy, Chakotay was both relieved and frustrated. That it had ended well was testament to his people’s fortitude and the trust of a few crucial Confederacy individuals. He couldn’t help but think that the fleet’s greatest accomplishment had been the restoration of the Ark Planet and the subsequent introduction of the ancient protectors to the Obihhax. Their continued development would be worth monitoring, had the resources existed to do so. He only hoped the Confederacy would not retreat from all they had learned, but somehow he doubted their willingness to embrace it in all of its complexity at this time.
The meeting was winding down when they were interrupted by one of Cin’s assistants. The ranking general had arrived. Cin had indicated that General Mattings wished to speak privately with Captain Chakotay. It would have been unspeakably rude for Chakotay to refuse, which was likely why the general had asked Cin to facilitate the meeting.
On a bright summer afternoon, Chakotay found himself touring the grounds of the presider’s palace with a man he had come to respect and despise in equal measures.
“I appreciate you speaking with me, Captain,” Mattings began once they had entered an area lined with tall hedges surrounding a large fountain.
“What do you want, General?”
Mattings did not seem at all taken aback by Chakotay’s tone. “A favor.”
“I might not be the best person to ask.”
“No, I think you are exactly the right person.”
“What favor?”
“I’d like you turn over the bodies that were taken by Emem, Tirrit, and Adaeze to us.”
Chakotay was both stunned and intrigued. “Why?”
“In the next few
weeks, I’m going to lead a small fleet out of Confederacy space. We’re going to seek out the Devore, the Vaadwaur, and the Turei. I’d like to be able to return the bodies of their dead to them.”
“Seriously?” Chakotay asked.
“Yes. Once that’s done, we’re going to attempt to find whatever is left of the Kinara. We could wait for them to return, but I think it’s important for us to demonstrate our willingness to make the effort. I’ve been asked by the presider to advise them that we are still open to negotiating for passage through our territory.”
This had always been the problem with Mattings. Once Chakotay was certain the man’s odious qualities far outweighed his redeeming ones, he did something completely unexpected.
“It’s a good idea,” Chakotay agreed. “But I’m surprised you’re willing to risk it.”
“The risks don’t concern me.”
“They should. The Devore, Vaadwaur and Turei aren’t going to welcome you with open arms.”
“Maybe not. It’ll take time for us to get to know one another. Hopefully, we’ll find some common ground. If not, I know how to deal with them.”
“This is a big step for the Confederacy,” Chakotay noted. “Most of your exploratory missions in the past were intended to annex new territory.”
“More isn’t necessarily better. Sometimes it’s just more. Mister Kim pointed that out to me once. We don’t need more territory. We need to secure what we have. Fighting to the death everyone who shows up is not the most effective way to accomplish that. I’m starting to think there might just be something to this notion of going in peace to seek out new worlds and new civilizations.”
“It’s not for the faint of heart.”
“I never thought it was.”
Chakotay stopped and turned to face Mattings. “I’ll pass along your request to Admiral Janeway. I’m sure she’ll agree.”
Mattings began to study the top of his boots. “I decided the first time we met that you were a man whose respect was worth earning. I know there are issues on which you and I are going to have to agree to disagree. But I don’t believe we are as different as you think.”
Atonement Page 37
