O’Donnell and Cambridge shared a brief glance of consternation.
“Begging your pardon, Adatoir,” Janeway said quickly, “no insult or attempt to humiliate your delegation is intended.”
“We have, of course, collected limited data about you and your Federation, Admiral,” Tesh said sternly, “travelers from a distant quadrant who say they come in peace to explore space.”
Gral spoke for the first time, the slightly higher pitch of his “voice” communicating fear. “It has been reported that the Federation travelers recruit natives of this quadrant as guides.”
“And make them their leaders?” Tesh asked dubiously.
Finally Janeway stepped in. “You have us at a disadvantage, sirs,” she said kindly. “Several years ago, the ship I commanded, the Federation Starship Voyager, was brought to the Delta Quadrant by a Nacene we came to know as the Caretaker. Over the course of seven years, we encountered many local species on our way home. We were joined, from time to time, by a few natives of this quadrant. Seven is one such individual.”
“Is she not human?” Yil asked.
“She is, but when we first met her, she was a member of the Borg Collective,” Janeway clarified.
All three Nihydron looked in unison toward Seven, who inclined her head in greeting. “Voyager’s crew freed me from the Borg, allowing me to reclaim my humanity,” she said, radically simplifying the story.
“It has been theorized that the denzit was captured. Her heritage was never established, but she is clearly not Rilnar,” Gral offered.
“The denzit?” Chakotay asked.
Tesh returned his cold gaze to Janeway. “You have abandoned the Rilnar, then?”
Janeway swallowed her growing frustration. “Forgive me, Adatoir Tesh. Neither I, nor my crew, understand what you are suggesting. We have never met the Rilnar, although we have heard of them. All of the individuals present here today, including Seven, were born in Federation space and all have served with Starfleet for several years.”
“An illusion?” Yil asked of Gral.
“The resemblance is too striking,” Gral replied.
“Adatoir,” O’Donnell interjected, “as I told you, we sought out the Nihydron to help us better understand the Delta Quadrant. Can you assist us by explaining your obvious surprise and discomfort in meeting our fleet commander?”
“Do you possess multidimensional visual rendering technology?” Tesh asked.
O’Donnell turned to Decan.
“We do, sir,” the lieutenant replied. “The controls are embedded in this surface,” he added, gesturing to the conference table.
“May I?” Tesh asked.
“Of course,” Janeway replied.
Tesh moved almost furtively to stand beside Decan, pausing briefly to stare at the lieutenant’s pointed ears, a gift of his Vulcan heritage. Tesh then inhaled deeply and placed both of his hands flat on the table. For a moment they moved randomly, as if searching for something. Finally they settled over one of the inactive displays and the adatoir’s eyes blackened. A few moments later, a grainy holographic image appeared in the center of the table, that of a woman’s head and shoulders. What could be seen of her uniform was unidentifiable.
Her face, however, was eerily familiar.
Yil stepped forward to explain. “Since long before the Nihydron entered the void between stars, the Rilnar and the Zahl have fought to control Sormana.”
“What is Sormana?” Cambridge asked.
“Not what, where,” Yil replied.
Behind the image of the woman, an orange starscape appeared. One system was enlarged and a single planet magnified again.
Yil continued. “Sormana is the third planet of six orbiting a sub-novan yellow star aged approximately five billion years. Eighty percent of its surface is composed of water. Its topography and resources are consistent with several similar terrestrial worlds and its atmospheric parameters make it suitable for habitation by series-eight carbon-based life-forms. There is nothing exceptional about Sormana apart from the fact that both the Rilnar and the Zahl originated there. They have waged sustained conflict for thousands of years without either side achieving its goal of driving the other from the planet.
“Many suspected that a Zahl victory was inevitable and imminent. That changed three rotations ago when this alien female was elevated to the position of denzit, or supreme Rilnar commander. Since her ascension, the Rilnar have gained significant ground against the Zahl. She is credited with reversing Rilnar fortunes and is known for her decisiveness, cunning, and tactical brilliance.”
The image floating above the table flared slightly as Tesh’s eyes again became translucent and met Admiral Janeway’s. “You now understand the source of our confusion?” he asked.
Janeway did. As Yil had related the history of Sormana, she had listened as attentively as possible, despite the fact that her focus had been entirely captivated by the image of the face Tesh had projected for them.
Her face.
The admiral’s first thought was that this must be an unsettling coincidence. In a galaxy populated by countless beings, it was reasonable that several might share many physical characteristics. As she instinctively stepped forward to examine the display more carefully, her stomach turned and her heart began to run a thready, uneven race.
This was more than resemblance. This was duplication. The woman before her, whoever she might be, was identical in almost every perceivable way to Kathryn Janeway.
“Adatoir Tesh, how long ago was this image taken?” Janeway asked softly.
“It was collected less than one solar cycle ago, from a Zahl infiltration team,” Tesh replied.
“Do you have any more recent intelligence about this woman’s actions?” Chakotay asked, clearly sensing the significance of this line of questioning.
“Our last tactical update regarding Sormana and the surrounding system were collected within the last two lunar cycles.”
“Two months?” Chakotay asked softly of Janeway, who nodded in response.
A faint ray of hope presented itself. The Nihydron had entered the room and immediately accused Janeway of duplicity. Was it possible that they had manufactured this image from their own scans of Demeter’s logs and were now engaging in some sort of ruse to further their own agenda?
Regardless, this meeting was over.
“Adatoir Tesh,” Janeway said. “I appreciate very much your sharing this intelligence with us. While we remain anxious to begin a broader exchange of data between our peoples, at this time I must ask that we postpone our discussions until my fleet investigates this truly perplexing situation.”
Tesh lifted his hands from the table and the holographic images vanished. He moved to stand in front of Janeway again and nodded to her. “We sincerely hope that the next time we meet, you are able to illuminate this odd circumstance.”
Chakotay stepped closer to Janeway, saying, “You can count on it.”
• • •
As the Nihydron were escorted from the room by Decan, the rest of the fleet officers collected themselves around the briefing table. Farkas was the first to speak.
“If memory serves, Admiral, you do have a sister, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Janeway replied. “Phoebe.”
“She’s not your twin?”
“No. Nor does she possess any tactical training. She’s never left the Alpha Quadrant.”
“Then I’ve got nothing,” Farkas said.
“The most probable explanation is a superficial resemblance, Admiral,” Seven suggested. “It is true that this denzit shares many physical attributes with you, but that could simply be a coincidence.”
Janeway’s eyes briefly met Seven’s and then slipped past them to stare into the distance as she brought her clasped hands to cover her mouth, resting her chin on them.
“We still have to confirm that one way or the other, don’t we?” O’Donnell asked.
“Yes,” Chakotay replied. “Although, for the r
ecord, I agree with Seven. The resemblance is alarming, but she can’t be any version of Kathryn Janeway.”
“Why not?” Glenn asked. “We’ve encountered stranger things. There are many reports on record of Starfleet officers encountering versions of themselves from some alternate universe.”
“Improbable,” Seven said.
“It might be simpler than that,” Cambridge offered. “We could be looking at an alien who has altered its appearance intentionally to look like the admiral.”
“Why would anyone do that?” Glenn asked.
“Voyager’s reputation,” Farkas suggested. “The Nihydron have heard of you. Perhaps the Rilnar have as well and decided that Kathryn Janeway might be one leader that would strike fear into the hearts of the Zahl.”
Janeway turned to stare at Farkas. “I don’t know whether to be flattered or offended.”
“I’d go with flattered,” Farkas suggested.
“Is it possible we are looking at a version of Kathryn Janeway from another timeline?” O’Donnell asked.
“Also improbable,” Seven said, “but technically possible.”
“No,” Janeway corrected her.
“Admiral?” Seven asked.
“Whoever this woman is, she can’t be me, even a temporally displaced version of me.”
“Why not?” Farkas asked.
Janeway sighed deeply.
“Because the admiral’s death was a fixed point in time,” Chakotay replied for her.
Farkas narrowed her eyes. “That’s what the Q said, right?”
Janeway shook her head. “It’s more than that. When I was in the Q Continuum, I experienced the deaths of every single Kathryn Janeway that has ever existed. This woman cannot be any version of me because all of them died, under a variety of circumstances, at the exact same moment almost two years ago. The Nihydron told us that their data is more recent than that. Even if this was me, temporally displaced or from an alternate universe, she still would not have survived this long.”
“Are you sure?” Farkas asked. “Not to diminish anything you experienced, Admiral, but are we clear on the rules in play during the Omega Continuum crisis? I mean, if there were somehow two versions of you existing in a single timeline, would the multiverse have destroyed them both?”
“Yes,” Janeway assured her in a pained, low voice.
The somber pause was broken by Counselor Cambridge. “Didn’t I read once in our logs about some biomimetic alien life-form your crew encountered that duplicated every one of you?”
“Yes,” Chakotay said. Turning to Janeway, he said, “That might be a possibility, Admiral.”
“I don’t see how,” Janeway countered. “The duplicates created by the Silver Blood couldn’t survive outside the Demon planet’s atmosphere.”
“Perhaps they adapted,” Seven suggested.
“Perhaps,” Janeway acknowledged, “but I don’t think even a cloned version of me would have been given a pass by whatever forces were trying to restore the balance between Omega and the Q.”
“What about Species 8472?” Seven asked. “We know they are capable of impersonating any individual they have scanned.”
“The last time we spoke, they were very clear about their intentions to remain in fluidic space,” Chakotay noted. “I suppose it could be another stray spy, but even then, I have a hard time understanding why they would intentionally insert themselves into someone else’s war.”
“Do we let it go?” O’Donnell asked.
“No,” Janeway replied. “We’re going to locate Sormana and set course. When we are within range, Captain Chakotay will take Voyager to make contact with the Rilnar and as discreetly as possible determine who the hell that woman is.”
3
VOYAGER
Wow,” Lieutenant Nancy Conlon said as Commander B’Elanna Torres entered her family’s living room holding her newborn son swaddled in her arms.
Torres smiled. “He is pretty darn cute. I think we’re going to keep him.”
“Agreed, but I was referring to you,” Conlon said. “You look great.”
“Thanks,” Torres said sincerely. She had bounced back fairly quickly after Miral’s birth, but had largely credited that to the number of friends and family members who happened to be on hand to offer their assistance. This time, there was less help to be had, but Torres felt good; much better than anyone running on so little sleep probably should.
“You don’t look half-bad yourself,” she continued.
Conlon smiled. “Work agrees with me.”
“How’s it going down there?”
Conlon paused, clearly searching for the best way to frame her response.
“What?” Torres asked.
“I know Icheb is a friend of yours,” Conlon began.
Torres sighed. She had already reviewed a blistering report on her new aide from Commander O’Donnell. “He is, but you still need to speak freely.”
“I’ve served with my fair share of tight-asses. The next time we have dinner I’ll tell you about Lieutenant Commander Mor glasch Tev. But Ensign Icheb is treating the Starfleet Engineering Manual like it’s holy writ. He’s bright as the day is long, but he has no practical awareness of the realities of everyday life aboard a starship.”
“Yes, he does,” Torres countered. “He was on Voyager for the last several years of our journey home. He was young, but he paid attention to everything we did. And there were times when he was genuinely helpful.”
“Do you think the Academy wrecked him?”
“No.” Torres shook her head. “I think the last few months might have.”
“How so?”
“Tom and Seven leaned on him pretty heavily during their time on Earth. They asked him to break some rules. He had already bent a few others trying to get in touch with Seven. By all rights, he should have been separated for cause from the Academy. Tom said he was called on the carpet by Admiral Akaar before his posting to the fleet was approved.”
“Oh,” Conlon said, “that would do it.”
“Yeah,” Torres agreed. “I intended these efficiency evaluations to serve as an opportunity for him to get to know each of the fleet’s chiefs and their engine rooms.”
“He’s treating them like final exams. And we’re all failing.”
Torres grinned knowingly. “Benoit did okay.”
“Really? Give me a year of peace and a staff of holograms and I might do the same. Keep ripping my ship to pieces . . .”
“I’ll talk to him,” Torres assured her.
“Thank you.” Offering the fleet chief engineer a padd, Conlon added, “And in your copious spare time, would you mind reviewing this? I would have given it to Icheb to pass along but I really didn’t want to see the poor kid’s head explode.”
Torres started to accept it awkwardly.
“Trade you,” Conlon offered.
Transferring Michael to Nancy’s arms, Torres took the padd and perched on the arm of a sofa to scan it. It didn’t take long for her stomach to sink. The padd contained a proposal for a radical overhaul of the ship’s bioneural processors and a dizzying array of enhancements to the security protocols of the main computer. “What is this?” she asked.
“Just my thoughts. I had a lot of time to analyze our standard procedures while I was recuperating. The only reason we survived the Seriareen’s attempt to take over this ship was because Meegan happened to be a hologram and Xolani transferred all of our command subroutines to her.”
“The root code corruption I created was also critical.”
“Yes, but it was installed on the fly and never tested. It could just as easily have destroyed us. We need to be prepared. Starfleet’s regs don’t begin to cover what the Delta Quadrant throws at us every damn day. Your instinct to create that modification was right, even though it goes against all of our security protocols. What I am proposing would maximize the potential of and simultaneously secure our bioneural gel packs. While we’re at it, we need to add another essen
tial layer of security between our main computer and anyone who might attempt to corrupt it.”
“I agree, in theory. But this isn’t an experimental vessel. Voyager is leading this fleet and we’re too far from home to risk modifications like this.”
Conlon seemed to struggle for a moment to maintain her composure. The fact that she was holding a sleeping child in her arms helped. “The Seriareen’s actions demonstrated a number of vulnerabilities with our current security. I’m not blaming anyone. We did what we’ve been trained to do. But we still missed Xolani’s infiltration of our systems, and he succeeded, however briefly, in taking our ship away from us. Had the synthetic amebocyte I’m proposing already been integrated into the gel packs, he couldn’t have done that. His presence would have been detected and contained. If the main computer had the ability to request multiple command clearances based upon the nature of the alterations being made prior to Xolani, or Admiral Batiste’s lock-outs, we would also have been better off. What good are experiences like this if we don’t learn from them?”
Torres considered Conlon carefully. During her first seven years in the Delta Quadrant B’Elanna had suffered her fair share of odd alien encounters and been driven by them to craft safeguards like the one that had recently saved Voyager. But Admiral Janeway had taken her to task for it, and rightly so. Harry’s attempt to do the same, creating a personal back door into the holographic systems, had initially given Xolani the access he required and exploited. No matter how well-intentioned, untested modifications like these, meant to counter specific situations, could do as much harm as good. But Conlon wasn’t going to be able to see that objectively for some time.
“Let me review these more carefully,” Torres finally said. “I understand what you’re saying and I’m open to suggestions. But don’t do anything until I have a chance to consider all of the potential consequences.”
“Of course,” Conlon agreed.
Torres set the padd aside and retrieved her son from Conlon.
“I’ve got to get back,” the lieutenant said.
“I’ll try and join you during his next nap,” Torres said. “I’d like to review Icheb’s recommendations personally.”
Star Trek: Voyager: A Pocket Full of Lies Page 4
