Star Trek: Voyager®: Full Circle

by Kirsten Beyer

  “These rocks, just as those above, are quite efficient at blocking our scans,” Seven replied.

  “I know she’s here,” B’Elanna insisted.

  “Admiral,” Seven said, pausing at a section of the wall opposite the cell that had been B’Elanna’s.

  “What is it?”

  “I’m not sure,” Seven replied, raising her hand and running it gingerly over what looked like solid rock. “There are faint energy readings emanating from this wall. This might be the power source for those force fields.”

  B’Elanna hurried to her side and mimicked her movements.

  When B’Elanna touched the wall, an interface panel that had been shrouded suddenly appeared.

  “It must be set to activate only by a Klingon,” Seven surmised.

  B’Elanna was frantically searching the display for any indication of Miral’s whereabouts. Finally, in frustration, she raised her bat’leth and drove it into the panel, which immediately spouted forth a hail of sparks.

  Seconds later, the solid wall at the end of the cavern vanished to reveal twelve qawHaq’hoch warriors standing in an unbroken circle around one warrior who clutched a struggling Miral in her arms.

  “Crude, but effective,” Seven noted as she and Janeway leveled their rifles at the warriors.

  “Give me my daughter!” B’Elanna bellowed.

  The women stood in tense, defiant silence.

  “She’s not going to ask nicely again,” Janeway warned.

  “B’Elanna Torres!” another voice shouted from the corridor.

  Wheeling around, B’Elanna saw Commander Logt rushing toward them.

  “Don’t make me kill these people,” B’Elanna said furiously. “I’m taking my daughter back, and I really don’t care anymore who is standing in my way.”

  Janeway and Seven moved to stand beside B’Elanna, while still keeping their weapons trained on Miral’s guardians.

  “The Warriors of Gre’thor who discovered the sanctuary are all but defeated,” Logt said, “but more will come. We must all leave this place at once.”

  “If we can reach the surface safely, Voyager will be able to transport us out,” Janeway suggested.

  Logt turned her most intimidating glare upon the admiral.

  “You swore to stand with us in battle,” Logt cautioned Janeway. “Your life is forfeit if you break that oath.”

  “Well, you’re welcome to try and take it from me,” Janeway replied, “but as far as I’m concerned, we’ve fulfilled that oath. The only issue now is what will become of Miral.”

  “And what of the oath you swore to me on Boreth?” B’Elanna demanded of Logt.

  “I swore only to serve you faithfully until your daughter was found,” Logt replied. “That, too, has been done.” She stepped toward B’Elanna, clearly hoping to make her see reason. “B’Elanna, you must listen to me. The scrolls say that only the qawHaq’hoch will be able to protect the Kuvah’magh. Join us, and there will never again be a need to keep you from Miral.”

  B’Elanna shook her head in disbelief. Determination was one thing, but it was a fine line between that and the lunacy of Logt’s suggestion.

  “If you are referring to the scrolls of Ghargh, they say nothing of the kind,” Seven interrupted, correcting Logt.

  Logt turned fiercely on Seven. “Do not presume to teach me the truths of the faith to which I have dedicated my life!”

  “Seven is right,” B’Elanna said, her eyes suddenly blazing with relief. “The scrolls never mention the qawHaq’hoch at all.”

  “They refer numerous times to ‘those who remember,’” Logt insisted.

  “But who is to say that they meant you?” B’Elanna replied. “Your order wasn’t founded until almost a thousand years after Ghargh wrote those words, and the founders of the order may have chosen the name qawHaq’hoch simply because they intended to fulfill the prophecy.”

  “In my experience, fate doesn’t give a damn about our intentions,” Janeway added.

  “I can’t join you, Logt,” B’Elanna went on, “but I understand now what awaits Miral when she is grown, and I’ll prepare her for it. There is nothing I will not sacrifice to see that she lives long enough to avert this curse, should it come to that.”

  “It is also possible that by bringing the genetic defect to light, Klingon scientists may discover another solution,” Seven suggested. “Perhaps the true purpose of your work has been to reveal this threat long before it might otherwise have been discovered. You may already have protected the Kuvah’magh, not from those who wish to kill her, but from the destiny that was foretold.”

  “Seven has a point,” Janeway added. “If you were to share your findings with the Klingon Empire and other Federation scientists, they would certainly be willing to devote whatever resources are necessary to reversing this genetic defect.”

  “Listen to them, Logt,” B’Elanna pleaded. “Didn’t Amar say that the only thing more dangerous than a secret was those who keep it?”

  “No,” Logt replied. “Amar said that a secret’s only danger was in the keeping of it.”

  “I don’t see the difference,” B’Elanna said, shaking her head.

  Logt paused, clearly torn by B’Elanna’s words.

  “Nor do I,” she finally agreed somberly. “In all the months you studied on Boreth, B’Elanna, I never believed you had learned a thing,” she went on. “Perhaps I was mistaken.”

  Paris stood in the transporter room, shaking with a combination of fatigue and relief.

  Harry and the emperor were by his side. Kahless had already congratulated them heartily on a battle well fought, but Tom knew that had it not been for the timely appearance of Martok’s men, they would all have been torn to shreds on that hillside. He could see from Harry’s haunted expression that visions of the battle would probably populate his nightmares for many days to come.

  Finally, the familiar whine of the transporter sounded, and the forms of Janeway, Seven, Waters, and Maplethorpe appeared before them. Tom’s heart sank as the group hustled to clear the transporter pad until, moments later, a second transport brought B’Elanna, Miral, and Logt to Voyager.

  Tom could barely see through the tears that now poured freely from his eyes the heart-rending vision of his daughter, clinging tightly to B’Elanna.

  B’Elanna rushed to his arms and Tom quickly embraced them both. Only Miral’s cry of discomfort forced him to loosen his hold. Miral began to wail in earnest, and it was the most beautiful sound Tom had ever heard.

  “Hello, baby,” Tom said softly, gently caressing Miral’s head as he kept his other arm wrapped firmly around B’Elanna’s waist.

  Miral’s eyes fixed on his face, and she paused briefly as her cries turned to dismayed hiccups.

  “Did you miss your daddy?” Tom asked lovingly.

  “We both did,” B’Elanna said softly.

  Tom turned to B’Elanna and kissed her hungrily.

  “Let’s never do this again,” he whispered the second his lips were free.

  B’Elanna was about to reply when Miral demanded their full attention by shouting at the top of her little lungs, “Da!”

  Tom focused on her instantly, unable to believe what he had just heard.

  “Da! Da!” Miral said again, opening her arms wide and reaching out to her father.

  OCTOBER 2378

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “How did it go?” Kathryn demanded the moment she opened the door of her San Francisco apartment to Chakotay.

  “I could use a drink,” Chakotay replied.

  “That bad?”

  Given the less than optimal series of events of the past two weeks, following directly on the heels of the battle at Cygnet IV, Chakotay thought his hearing with Admirals Montgomery, Upton, and Batiste had gone reasonably well. But the worry lines creasing Kathryn’s brow clearly indicated that she had feared the worst.

  “All things considered,” Chakotay said as she gestured toward the small dining table, which had b
een set for two, “I think the panel was very understanding.”

  Kathryn stared in disbelief as she accepted a glass of merlot Chakotay offered before pouring his own.

  “Define understanding,” she requested as she sat on the sofa and fortified herself with a generous sip.

  Taking this as a cue that the dinner she had replicated for them would go down better over less serious conversation, Chakotay followed Kathryn’s lead and took a seat beside her.

  “They were, of course, seriously displeased with my failure to complete the mission to Kerovi.”

  “You did try,” Kathryn said defensively.

  “I did,” Chakotay nodded, “but apparently I don’t get any points for trying.”

  In fact, the moment his crew had been safely returned to Voyager, Chakotay had immediately set course for Kerovi in hope that they would arrive before the Changeling’s trial had concluded. There were far too many Klingon Defense Force warriors remaining on the planet for Voyager to accommodate, so Kahless had offered to remain on Cygnet IV with them. A brisk communication with the Klingon authorities had assured the captain that a a ship would be dispatched immediately to collect Martok’s soldiers. To Chakotay’s amazement, Kahless had also agreed to accept Commander Logt back into his service as his personal guard. She had remained on the planet, no doubt doing what she could to assess the damages sustained by the qawHaq’hoch at the hands of the Warriors of Gre’thor.

  Last Chakotay had heard, the Kortar had continued to elude Martok, though several ships in the Klingon fleet had joined the hunt. This loose end troubled Chakotay considerably, because he knew it would cause B’Elanna and Tom no end of worry.

  As soon as Voyager had entered Kerovian space, they had been met by an armed fleet of vessels and ordered to turn back. Chakotay was advised that the Changeling they had come to interrogate was dead, and their presence was no longer required or welcomed.

  Based on his last conversation with Montgomery, Chakotay had feared that the Kerovian government had caved to public pressure and executed their prisoner. Janeway had used some of her back-channel contacts to learn that the Changeling had actually attempted to escape custody just before the trial began, and had been killed.

  “Given the fact that you helped uncover a serious threat to the health and well-being of the Klingon Empire, I would have hoped that the panel would at least understand your decision to delay the mission to Kerovi. It’s not as if you could have known that the Changeling would be killed before you arrived,” Kathryn argued.

  “They rightly pointed out that I made my choice to alter course based on my personal relationship with B’Elanna and Miral. I didn’t know that by pursuing that course, I would be providing assistance to our allies, so even though the mission was an unqualified success, they’re still concerned about my judgment,” Chakotay replied.

  “That’s ridiculous,” Janeway said, as if she were the one whose judgment was being called into question. As she had backed Chakotay every step of the way between Earth and Cygnet IV, in a manner of speaking, it was.

  “I actually believe I was spared a harsher punishment because Martok sent an official commendation to Starfleet for my meritorious service to the empire, expressing his gratitude for our ‘assistance’ and noting Tom Paris’s diplomatic skills.”

  Kathryn actually chuckled at this. “How thoughtful of him.”

  “And I’m also willing to bet that you’re in more trouble over this mess than I am.”

  The admiral rose from the couch and moved to gaze out the window. Finally she replied, “You let me worry about my troubles, all right?”

  Chakotay set his wineglass on the table and sat up, studying her face. She was smiling faintly, but there was a glint of steel in her eyes that was usually reserved for battle. “I did advise the admirals that I take full responsibility for the mission, its accomplishments and its failures,” he said seriously.

  “That’s very kind of you, but we both know that’s not how it works,” she said with a sigh. “I was the ranking officer. I think they expected me to drag you to Kerovi, kicking and screaming, if that’s what it took. Failing that, I should have assumed command and followed their orders over your protests.”

  “It’s too bad they don’t know you better than that.”

  “And it’s comforting that you do.”

  After a pause Kathryn was obviously ready to change the subject.

  “I understand the Doctor, Seven, and Doctor Kaz presented a joint report to the High Council outlining their findings, and their analysis will be studied further. The Doctor in particular is quite optimistic that with further research, they will be able to find a cure for this so-called Curse of the Gods.”

  “Are Seven and the Doctor back at the Institute then?” Chakotay asked.

  Kathryn nodded. “Though I’m not sure how long that will last.”

  “You noticed the tension between them too?”

  “Hard to miss it. The Institute is lucky to have them, but I think it would be best, in the long term, for both of them to broaden their horizons,” she said. “At any rate, I’m not sure that pure theoretical research is the best use of either of their considerable abilities.”

  “Did you have something else specific in mind?” Chakotay asked.

  “Not really.” She shook her head ponderously.

  Chakotay sensed a weariness in her that was usually reserved for her more introspective moments.

  “I owe you my thanks, Kathryn,” he said gently, “and not just for backing me up with Command.”

  “By my count we’re a long way from even,” she responded enigmatically.

  At first Chakotay didn’t know how to take this, but she clarified when she saw his puzzled expression.

  “You had my back every single day we spent in the Delta quadrant, even when you didn’t agree with me,” she said thoughtfully.

  “That was my job.”

  Kathryn paused.

  “It was more than that.”

  Chakotay allowed her statement to hang unanswered in the air between them. Beyond this point lay dragons, and both of them knew it. Much as he wanted to open his heart, experience had taught him caution, especially when it came to Kathryn.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head ruefully. “I’ve spent the last four days with Captain Eden, reliving in gory detail every single thing I could remember, and a lot of things I wanted to forget, about the Delta quadrant.”

  Chakotay finally understood what had triggered her mood. His sessions with Eden had been equally arduous, but more than a month had passed since then, and he’d been too busy in the interim to dwell on the tangle of emotions those interviews had forced to the surface of his mind. Now more than ever, he was content to leave those things in the past. What mattered was the future.

  “Do you have any idea why Starfleet is digging into all of this now?” he asked. “It’s been almost a year, and it seems like an abrupt policy change, especially when you consider how cursory their review was when we first got home.” It was the first question that had come to mind when he’d met with Eden, and one that she had consistently evaded answering.

  Kathryn’s eyes met his, and he was immediately concerned by the hint of fear that flickered there.

  “I don’t know anything for certain,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “Let’s just say I’ve heard some decidedly unpleasant rumors.”

  Chakotay knew better than to ask more, though he was positively dying to do so.

  “Have you received new orders yet?” she asked.

  “Actually, yes,” he replied. “Our next illustrious mission is a diplomatic transport to Cestus III. It’s not even an ambassador. We’re ferrying key staff members. I’m trying not to take it personally.” He went on, “After that hearing today, I can’t help but feel they’re trying to keep me on a short leash until they’re certain they didn’t make a mistake by giving me command of Voyager. I wouldn’t be surprised if our next several missions are equ
ally inspiring.”

  “Be careful what you wish for,” Kathryn tossed back.

  Again Chakotay had the sense that there was something really troubling her that she could not or would not share right now.

  “How about you?” he asked, knowing full well she would continue to deflect his interest until she was good and ready.

  “After acknowledging my more serious lapses, my fellow admirals gave me a slap on the wrist for failing to read communiqués in a timely manner and for ordering Tuvok to steal that bat’leth. I’m pretty sure I’ll be chained to my desk for the foreseeable future.”

  “They’ll have to make those chains out of tritanium if they expect to hold you there,” Chakotay teased.

  “Don’t count on it,” Kathryn replied seriously. “In fact, I think we’d both do well to lay low and toe the line, at least for a while. Starfleet Command can be patient, but not infinitely so.”

  Chakotay nodded, before doing his best to bring some levity to the moment.

  “Didn’t Tuvok return the bat’leth to its rightful owner on his way back to Earth?” he asked. “You didn’t order him to steal it, so much as borrow it, right?”

  Kathryn smiled. “He did. He told me he’d given his word, and you know how Tuvok is about promises.”

  Chakotay knew all too well. Duty and honor weren’t just words to Tuvok. They defined the man.

  “Did he ever fully brief you on his mission to retrieve the bat’leth?” Chakotay wondered aloud.

  “No,” she replied. “He seemed almost…I guess embarrassed isn’t the right word, but I believe there’s more to the story there than either of us will ever know.”

  “Has summer session begun at the Academy?”

  “In a few days.” Janeway smiled. “I’m sure Tuvok is back to doing his usual exceptional job, even if his students don’t see it that way right now.”

  “It was fun having him at tactical again,” Chakotay mused.

  “I bet it was,” Kathryn said nostalgically.

  There was a brief lull as Chakotay was struck by the realization that only a few weeks ago, those nearest and dearest to him had once again been united in facing a common foe. It was hard to accept the idea that it was probably the last time that would ever be true again.