“You weren’t wrong about my first instincts. Neither was Tuvok, Seven, or Hugh. When I believed it necessary, I would have done anything in my power to save her. Where you all erred was in your assumptions about my willingness to consider other points of view. It’s hard to accept that those you trust can’t return the favor. It’s harder to accept that there’s good reason for that. I don’t blame any of you for fearing that I would do exactly what I’ve always done in the past. What troubles me is that you all seem to doubt my ability to learn from old mistakes.”
“If I do, it’s only because I have the same problem.”
Janeway nodded thoughtfully. “Something we both need to work on then.”
“I think so.”
“I want to say good-bye to Tuvok. Walk with me?”
“Of course.”
VOYAGER
Much to her surprise, Admiral Janeway found Tuvok in the Paris family quarters, holding young Michael Paris in his arms. Tom and B’Elanna hovered nearby. Lieutenant Kim was also present and divided his time between helping Miral construct a tall tower of magnetic blocks and joining in the others’ conversations. The remains of a large breakfast littered the dining table.
As Janeway watched Tuvok share a few stories of his own children when they were infants, she marveled at the transformation she was seeing in him. She didn’t know precisely how to account for it. Most of the choices Tuvok had made during this extended mission seemed to indicate a distinct desire to keep his distance from his old friends. He had kept his own counsel, to a fault. Given what he had shared with her of his ongoing struggle to accept his son’s death, it was extraordinary to see him holding Tom’s with such obvious tranquility.
The group was forced to disperse a few minutes before the beginning of alpha shift. Tuvok offered to accompany the admiral back to the transporter room to see her off.
As they walked, they chatted about the baby, the utter transformation of Tom and B’Elanna, Lieutenant Kim’s ease in his new role as chief of security and ongoing command training, and how small the galaxy was becoming with the advent of Starfleet’s use of slipstream technology.
They reached the transporter room much too quickly for the admiral’s taste. Turning to face him for what she assumed would be the last time for at least a few years she said, “I want you to know how much I appreciate your willingness to assist us with this mission.”
“It is I who owe you a debt of gratitude, Admiral.”
“Oh?”
“For more than a year, the majority of my time spent in personal reflection has been dedicated to restoring my mental discipline. My wife, T’Pel, has been a constant source of support, but she was not present for most of the years I served Starfleet and as a result, cannot fully appreciate the depth of the relationships I have formed. She has attempted to protect me from distractions. What we both overlooked was the fact that insight is not only gained by personal reflection, often it is acquired by unexpected experiences that bring new perspectives to our analysis. This mission has been most unexpected and extremely helpful in that regard.”
Janeway wished there was time for him to elaborate. She wanted desperately to understand exactly how he had come to this realization. She could only trust his words and be grateful that he had found something of use in the time he’d spent with her fleet.
“You should know, Admiral, that I counseled Captain Chakotay to withhold his knowledge of Kathryn’s child from you.”
“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me. It seems both of the men I consider my closest friends share a certain amount of pessimism when it comes to my ability to evaluate the ratio between risk and reward.”
“Do you believe that fear to be well grounded?”
“Not anymore. I do wonder how long it will take for both of you to stop judging me by the sins of my past and simply walk beside me into the future. Before this mission, if anyone had asked me to name the two people I trust most in the universe, it would have been you and Chakotay. That’s still true, but it’s odd to think that the feeling isn’t mutual. The Krenim classified me as a chaotic variable. I guess they’re not the only ones.”
“Did they not classify all Federation contacts as such?”
“I suppose.”
“Then you are in excellent company, Admiral. For my part, I can only apologize for any actions I have taken that have caused you to doubt my personal regard for you. Please forgive me.”
Janeway nodded.
“Captain Chakotay is in a difficult position. His primary concern is the safety of his crew, as it should be. When that conflicts with his sense of obligation to you—”
Janeway raised a hand to silence him. “Chakotay and I are still struggling to find an appropriate balance between our duties and our personal relationship. We are a work in progress.”
“Permit me to wish you success in finding that balance. Despite these setbacks, the choice you have made seems to agree with both of you.”
“It does.”
“As someone who has been married for several decades, I can tell you that eventually, misunderstandings such as this will prove comforting given their frequency and familiarity.”
“So, I’ve got that to look forward to?”
“I arrived during what seems to me to have been a period of transition for you. I am sorry that the requirements of this mission did not give us the opportunity to discuss your recent experiences in more detail. I would appreciate the opportunity to hear more about them and the corresponding insights that have arisen from them.”
“I’d be willing to keep in touch when time permits.”
“As would I.”
Janeway offered Tuvok her hand. He accepted it, holding it in both of his for a long moment. “Take care, my friend.”
“Live long and prosper, Kathryn.”
KRENIM TEMPORAL DEFENSE AGENCY VESSEL ARCANA
Almost as soon as the Truon had emerged from hiding, Dayne received the signal he had been dreading. He lowered his vessel’s shields as ordered and was transported aboard the Krenim Temporal Defense Agency’s commanding vessel, the Arcana.
Dayne materialized in a holding cell. His brother was waiting for him.
“Obrist.”
“Brother. I would ask when and where you have been, but I fear I know the answer. What I do not understand is why you have chosen to betray us.”
“Did you not receive my last report? Nothing of note has transpired since then, or I would have made contact.”
“Yes, your report. Admiral Kathryn Janeway was restored to life by an omnipotent species known as the Q.” Obrist’s fury began to seep through the cracks of his stoic façade. “You didn’t believe that nonsense, nor did you think for one minute that I would accept it, did you?”
“While outside the realm of our experience, what she said is not impossible. It explains a great deal, including our inability to appropriately calculate her ongoing impact on the Imperium.”
“If it was true. But it isn’t, is it, brother?”
“We should incorporate that data into our equations and examine the results together, just as we always have.”
Obrist’s face turned cold, suddenly devoid of emotion. Simultaneously, Dayne felt the heavy embrace of the collar being secured around his neck by one of Obrist’s interrogation specialists.
“We have been of one mind for so long, brother. It never occurred to me that we would ever reach a parting of the ways. It saddens me more than I can tell you to have arrived at this day. But the security of the Imperium we have built depends upon our ability to distinguish the possible from the probable, the truth from the lies. Tell me the truth, Dayne. When have you been?”
Dayne brought the image of Kathryn and Mollah sleeping peacefully in each other’s arms to the forefront of his mind and held it there, one last time. Then, he locked it away in the compartment in his mind reserved for truths he could never tell.
Abruptly, a searing beam of white-hot energy shot through his body. H
e had watched the interrogators inflict similar suffering on others, including Kathryn. Until now, he had never truly appreciated her strength. The pain gripping him was exquisite. As long as it continued, it banished all other thoughts and feelings. It enveloped him in agony so complete it seemed he must cease to exist. In none of her interrogation sessions had Kathryn ever betrayed the total despair the sensation provoked.
He would die before sacrificing the safety of his wife and daughter. After the second wave of fire took him, he could smell the charred flesh where the collar rested. He knew better but clung to the hope that death would take him quickly.
He had already tasted all he would ever know of paradise at Batibeh. It was enough.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I’ve had the story of the other Kathryn Janeway living in my mind for so many years, pestering me without cease, I simply had to get it out. I’m grateful to Margaret for allowing me to do so, for her patience, and for always guiding me through the rough spots. Also to Ed, who always makes me look way better than I am.
Massive thanks, as always, to my fellow authors Chris Bennett, David Mack, and David R. George III. Chris’s work continues to challenge me to explore concepts I find terrifying. If Mack would just write one less-than-fantastic novel, I’d sleep better at night rather than constantly worrying about how far I have to go. I ran this story by DRG before I even started to outline the proposal. His first comment: “You’re going to solve that in 100,000 words?” I hate how much smarter he is than I am.
Mark Rademaker deserves yet another nod for his quick and brilliant responses to my questions.
Maura’s faith in me is unsurpassed. One day, I’ll prove worthy of it.
This one is for Lynne. Everyone should know a woman like her, someone defined by their generosity of spirit. I am blessed beyond reason by her presence in my life.
My family and friends are still standing by me. I’ll never know why, but I’ll take it.
What little I know of truth lives in every breath of my daughter, Anorah. The strength of my husband, David, stuns me at every unexpected turn in the road. Their love is carrying me through this life. I wouldn’t be here without them.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kirsten Beyer is the author of nine of the last Star Trek: Voyager novels released by Pocket Books. Between the first and second, she wrote an Alias novel and the final novel ever written for Buffy the Vampire Slayer. She has also written a few short stories and articles, most about Star Trek, and a few original screenplays, not about Trek.
She does not have a website, a blog, a Facebook page, nor does she tweet. Those wishing to find her online should check out the literature section on the TrekBBS. She looks forward to establishing a more robust presence on the internet—just as soon as she figures out how to write faster or discovers more than twenty-four hours in each day.
Kirsten received undergraduate degrees in English Literature and Theater Arts. She also received a master’s degree from UCLA. She never intended to use her education to pursue a career as a novelist. But apparently, somebody up there had different plans.
When she’s not writing, she tries to extract every last drop of happiness she can from her life as a wife, a mother, a daughter, and a friend.
For now, she has no complaints.
FOR MORE ON THIS AUTHOR: authors.simonandschuster.com/Kirsten-Beyer
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ISBN 978-1-4767-9084-8
ISBN 978-1-4767-9085-5 (ebook)
Star Trek: Voyager: A Pocket Full of Lies Page 40
