Star Trek: Voyager: A Pocket Full of Lies

by Kirsten Beyer

  Seven piloted the small vessel, keeping it low to the ground for its flight over the desert that stretched for a thousand kilometers south of the Rilnar Center toward the edge of the continental land mass. No Rilnar or Zahl settlements were located near the coast, which would make hiding the shuttle in a dense wood that covered several kilometers along the cliff-line fairly easy.

  The edge of nowhere was not the team’s final destination. From here, they would transport to an island only three hundred square kilometers in size. It was located south-southwest of the cliff-line.

  When Kim had finally been granted access to sensors to analyze Sormana’s surface it had taken him no time to locate a target for their investigation. The parameters were simple. If the Zahl were using temporal technology somewhere on the planet that allowed them to bring soldiers directly to Sormana from other timelines, it would have to be heavily shielded. Chroniton readings were not hard to detect. Shields massive enough to hide chronitons would, by design, be incredibly difficult to find, but the power source for the shields would not be. In the case of the island, some unusual geographic features, currents, and tidal shifts presented anomalous readings. A cursory analysis of anything within a thousand square kilometers wouldn’t raise any red flags, unless you were specifically looking for a small dead zone. An area in the middle of an ocean would most likely indicate a series of currents bordering a gyre, a vortex of becalmed waters where all of the incoming currents deposited whatever they carried. Erratic winds would make such an area hazardous to navigate for sailing vessels and would likely be avoided.

  It would also be an excellent place to hide temporal technology as the natural magnetic fields generated by the gyre would add conflicting readings to any detailed sensor scan.

  Seven and Tuvok had concurred when Kim presented his findings. The next question was how to gain access to the island. Several hours of study suggested that the Zahl were not using sea vessels to move troops on and off of it. This meant they were probably using their own secured transporter system. In order to do that, the island’s shields would have to be lowered for several seconds, at least partially, for any signal to be transmitted.

  Seven had aided Kim and soon enough they had found an energy pattern that suggested shield permeability on two-hour cycles that were concurrent with the natural shifts in magnetic energy around the island. Both were impressed by the Zahl’s integration of natural and technological features to create their virtually impermeable fortress.

  It now fell to the away team to determine exactly what was inside that fortress.

  They began by studying the island’s perimeter to determine their point of ingress. Once they had selected a forest bordering the northern coast on one side of what appeared to be a massive citadel in the center of the island, the last step was to prepare their gear and time their transport to coincide with the next shield drop.

  It took Tuvok’s team the better part of eighteen hours to collect this intelligence. After ordering Kim and Seven to rest for six hours, four of which he spent in restorative meditation, Tuvok packed sufficient supplies to sustain the team for two days. This was longer than they intended to stay, but it was always better to be over-prepared. They each carried a single pattern enhancer. These would be used to aid the shuttle in locking on the team during their return, as the window of possible transport was so brief.

  They transported to the island at o two hundred hours local time and under cover of darkness hiked toward the high-walled structure. It looked ancient. Newer roads led to six different entrances. Tuvok led his team beside the nearest and least-trafficked one, camouflaged by the forest until they made camp a thousand meters from the northern gates. Several small transport vehicles utilized the road, even at this hour. Scans indicated that most were filled with fresh food taken from the surrounding ocean and the volume suggested that the small citadel likely housed thousands of Zahl soldiers.

  Fortunately for the away team, the transports were automated. Stopping one, boarding it, and hiding themselves among the cases of foul-smelling fish—while using their tricorders to generate scrambling fields to hide their presence—was relatively easy.

  Once the vehicle was cleared to enter the citadel by an electronic sentry and began making its way toward a large storage building, the team slipped off the transport and melted into the shadows, using their tricorders to map the area and determine their next target.

  The first thing to catch Seven’s eye was a geothermal hot spot located in the center of the citadel. A newer edifice, fifty meters higher than the ancient exterior walls, had been erected there. The amount of power surging underneath it suggested that this would be the source of the island’s shields as well as the safest hiding place for any temporal technology. No chroniton readings were present, but they shouldn’t be if the structure’s internal shields were properly maintained.

  Tuvok’s attention was drawn to a very different feature of the citadel. Turning to Kim he indicated both the life-form and force-field readings his tricorder had detected. Kim responded by displaying a larger map of the entire area within the walls. Once this was done, he nodded knowingly to Tuvok.

  Finally, in a low voice Tuvok said, “You two will attempt to access the central structure. I will investigate these holding cells.”

  “Beg pardon?” Kim whispered.

  “We should stay together,” Seven added.

  “We will cover more ground in less time if we separate,” Tuvok replied. “Thirty minutes should be sufficient to take the necessary readings. We will regroup here at that time. If any of us fail to do so, we will rendezvous in one hour at our observation post outside the walls.”

  “We came here to find temporal technology,” Seven said. “It is there.” She pointed to the central structure. “Where are you going?”

  “This island is hiding more than temporal technology,” Tuvok replied. “Those buildings there are prisons and they are holding several hundred Rilnar.”

  Seven nodded her understanding. “If they are keeping the denzit’s husband anywhere, it will be here.” Despite intense frustration, Seven agreed grudgingly. “Thirty minutes,” she said in a tone that dared Tuvok to fail to make the scheduled rendezvous.

  The commander concurred with a slight nod.

  • • •

  Denzit Janeway sat in her command chair in the Center and studied the display of the coastal area where Tuvok’s team had abandoned the shuttle she had given them more than nine hours ago.

  This was not an area of Sormana she had ever analyzed, given how far it was from any Rilnar or Zahl settlement. She puzzled over the topography and the movement of the southern ocean, struggling to ascertain why Tuvok would have chosen this place or anything nearby to investigate. There was simply nothing there.

  The shuttle’s transporters could operate safely at a range of ten thousand kilometers, so its current location didn’t do much to limit her area of inquiry. From that shuttle they could have gone almost anywhere and she wouldn’t know precisely where until the shuttle was retrieved and its transporter logs studied. Each of the shuttle’s systems had multiple layers of backup, so she doubted Seven’s ability to scrub all of them effectively. She might simply destroy the shuttle, but its tritanium-encased computer core could survive anything short of a singularity.

  Barring that, the denzit could simply activate the tracers she had ordered sewn onto the uniforms she had provided Tuvok’s team. That would tell her exactly where they were. But it would also tell anyone else who might be scanning her frequencies where the away team was. Whether or not the Zahl would initiate those scans at the precise moment necessary to capture the signal or understand its significance was another matter. But the denzit would refrain from putting Tuvok’s team in greater danger unless it became absolutely necessary.

  Sadly, patience had never really been one of her virtues.

  18

  VESTA

  Greetings, Vesta,” the deep, warm voice of the Krenim Defense For
ce vessel’s captain said. “I am Commandant Irlin and my ship is the Brevmon.”

  “And I am Captain Regina Farkas,” Vesta’s captain replied evenly. “But then, I’m guessing you already know that.”

  “This is the second time in as many weeks that we have found you trespassing within Krenim space. While we are always anxious to make new friends, I am unsure what to make of your actions, Captain. I hesitate to suspect dubious intentions, but I cannot rule them out, either.”

  This was the first time in a long time Admiral Kathryn Janeway had been able to put a face to the Krenim. She barely remembered the brief contact Voyager had made years earlier. They were fair-skinned humanoids with large patches of dark mottling running from their hairline to their ears. They also possessed two raised, circular nodes at each temple. They might be protuberances of bone that permanently cracked the epidermal cells above them, or perhaps, vestigial horns. Their uniforms were utilitarian in shades of brown and maroon. Irlin’s chest was decorated with several metal pins, likely denoting rank or accomplishments.

  “I assure you, there is no cause for concern, Commandant,” Farkas said hastily. “We are actually en route to your homeworld. We intend to make official first contact and enter into diplomatic discussions with the appropriate representatives.”

  Irlin’s face broke into a wide smile. “How marvelous,” he said. “We would be happy to escort you to your destination and to send advance notice of your arrival and intentions.”

  “We would be most grateful for that,” Admiral Janeway said.

  “And you are?” Irlin asked.

  “I am Admiral Kathryn Janeway, leader of the Full Circle Fleet dispatched by the United Federation of Planets to explore the Delta Quadrant.”

  It might have been nothing more than a trick of the light aboard the Brevmon, but it appeared to Janeway that for a moment, the bridge’s illumination dimmed. A faint hum emitted by the Krenim vessel’s engines silenced and was replaced by a low, insistent beeping.

  “Is everything all right over there?” Farkas asked, likely picking up what Janeway had noted along with the consternation that was now etched on Irlin’s face as he studied a small display screen embedded in his chair.

  “Forgive me, Captain Farkas and Admiral Janeway. I am receiving, that is to say, my ship is in the process of alerting me to an unusual protocol. I must sign off for a few moments and make contact with another Krenim vessel that is nearby. I assure you, we bear you no hostile intent. Unfortunately, my ship will not be permitted to escort you farther into our territory. The determination of your progress will be made by a more specialized Krenim division. Again, deepest apologies,” Irlin said before closing the channel.

  Farkas turned to Janeway, who was smiling in spite of herself. “What the hell?” Farkas asked.

  “As a Starfleet captain you are aware of similar specialized protocols that would be activated on your ship in the event certain unusual substances were detected,” Janeway said.

  Farkas chuckled at the thought. “You think that’s what just happened? You think the Krenim feel the same way about you that we feel about omega particles?”

  “If they know half of what we do about the Year of Hell, it wouldn’t surprise me in the least,” Janeway replied.

  SORMANA

  For an internment camp, the two long single-story structures that housed the Rilnar prisoners were woefully unprotected, at least by Tuvok’s standards. Each building contained only one entrance and no windows. Short ventilation slits were cut into the exterior stone walls offering fresh air and no chance of escape. Undoubtedly, these buildings were only the first level of security. Should a prisoner manage to liberate himself from his holding cell, he would have to breach the main door, manned by a single guard who didn’t seem particularly attentive to his duties. But even should the prisoner succeed, there was still nowhere to go. There was constant light foot traffic between the other nine buildings encased by the high citadel walls. Then there were the walls themselves. The six entrances to the citadel were more heavily guarded than the prison blocks. Beyond the walls, the energy field shielded the entire island. Beyond the island lay the ocean.

  It was a perfect prison. It was built to keep those it housed in. It was not, however, terribly efficient at keeping unwanted infiltrators out.

  Tuvok chose to assault the door of the northern cellblock nearest the high wall. It was the farthest from the center of the citadel and as it faced the wall, was hidden from the view of anyone not intent on directly accessing it. Tuvok assumed there were security sensors monitoring the perimeter, so he kept well inside the wall’s shadow until he had the door’s guard in sight. Tuvok then observed the man for ten minutes. His boredom was immediately apparent. From time to time he stood briefly at attention or walked a few paces back and forth before the door. When, to Tuvok’s dismay, the guard looked toward his still figure, glanced around himself furtively, and then began to stride away from his post and toward Tuvok, the Starfleet officer readied himself for an attack.

  It never came. The guard moved into the shadow of the wall several meters from Tuvok’s position and removed something from a pocket of his long jacket from which he proceeded to take two generous swigs. Tuvok did not hesitate. He strode briskly toward the guard and from behind, grasped the man’s shoulder firmly, pleased that the Zahl possessed similar enough physiology to most humanoids. The nerve bundle vulnerable to the Vulcan nerve pinch proved the young guard’s undoing. Tuvok then rifled through his pockets to find a small security-access key card, relieved him of his jacket, and arranged his body so that it should go undetected for the next several minutes at least.

  Tuvok donned the jacket and moved back to the door, keeping his face down, assuming the man’s position briefly in the event he was being monitored. He then cupped a hand over his ear, feigning receipt of a comm signal, took the key card from his pocket, and used it to enter the cell block.

  Just inside the door was a small office. Large windows provided visual access to the long hall of sealed doors that lay beyond another closed metal door. Inside the office, a single Zahl soldier slept with his feet up on his console.

  For a moment, Tuvok wondered if this might be a trap. These were by far the least-effective security forces he had ever encountered. The only possible rationalization for their criminal dereliction of duty must be the fact that they believed outside infiltration to be impossible. He had no idea how long this prison had been in operation. Given the Rilnar’s ignorance of its existence, it might never have been targeted for attack. But it still seemed ridiculous that those entrusted with its protection took such a lackadaisical attitude.

  Still, Tuvok was willing to accept his good fortune. Using the same key card that had opened the exterior door, he entered the small office. Its attendant immediately jerked awake and peered at Tuvok through sleepy eyes.

  “Who are you?” the guard demanded.

  “Your replacement,” Tuvok replied, wondering how long the uniform and makeup he wore would fool his adversary.

  “You new here?” the guard asked as he stood up and yawned.

  “This will be my first shift.”

  “Who’d you piss off to pull this lousy duty?”

  Tuvok forced his mouth into an uncharacteristic, knowing smirk, which seemed to satisfy the other guard. Nodding, he turned his back to Tuvok, placing his hands on a data interface panel and entering a few commands.

  Again, Tuvok did not hesitate. He disabled the guard in the same way he had his counterpart outside and after depositing him carefully on the floor, addressed himself to the data panel. Using his tricorder, he was able to tap into the computer system and immediately began to search the prison’s records for a Rilnar named Dayne. When this provided no results, he searched for prisoners who had entered the camp around the time of Dayne’s disappearance. Only one current resident of the cellblock came up: N19471.

  Noting the cell number, Tuvok left the office and made his way down the long hallway.
When he reached the door, he again inserted his key card into the appropriate slot. A loud buzz alerted him to his error. It also brought the cell’s resident to the door. A small square opening just above eye level was covered by two thick metal bars. Sound was the only thing likely to come through them.

  “You forget your key again, Limpis? Where’s my breakfast?” a gruff voice sounded.

  Apparently prisoner N19471 wasn’t the only hungry resident on the block. Several other voices began to call out up and down the hall, echoing in the dimness. None of them thought highly of Mister Limpis, or seemed overly concerned with mocking him openly.

  “I am not Limpis,” Tuvok replied. “I require information about a man I have been told is a fellow prisoner.”

  “Why don’t you come in and get it then?” N19471 asked.

  “I was sent here by Denzit Janeway,” Tuvok added.

  The hall fell suddenly silent.

  “She’s still alive?” N19471 asked.

  “I told you she was,” another voice sounded.

  “Yeah, but you’re an idiot,” yet another added.

  “Shut up, all of you,” N19471 insisted. When the chatter subsided he said, “She finally found this place?”

  Because Tuvok could not answer truthfully that she had, he asked instead, “You were captured almost two years ago. Did you know a Rilnar officer named Dayne who would have been captured around the same time?”

  N19471 fell strangely silent.

  “Did you know—” Tuvok began again.

  “Who is asking?” N19471 demanded.

  “A friend,” Tuvok replied almost honestly.

  “Dayne wasn’t captured,” N19471 said. “He didn’t even take the field that night. Rumor is he defected.”

  “He was the denzit’s man,” another voice shouted. “He would never have betrayed her.”

  “You didn’t know him,” another insisted. “None of us did. He claimed he was from Pyral but no one I know there ever heard of him.”