Star Trek: Voyager®: Full Circle

by Kirsten Beyer

  “They were the enemy, Tom. And it wasn’t an illegal order, just a merciless one.”

  “I just don’t understand,” Tom went on. “What happened?”

  “She died,” Harry replied.

  “So he’s the only one who misses her or who’s having trouble dealing with her death? I mean, we all loved her. If anything, I expected that he’d be the one helping us to move on,” Tom said.

  “Me too,” Harry agreed.

  “I swear there was a moment this morning when I thought he was going to take a swing at me,” Tom admitted.

  “Maybe we should try to talk to him. You, me, Doctor Kaz. Hell, we could contact Jupiter Station and get the Doc in on it,” Harry suggested. “I’m pretty sure Seven is back at the Academy by now. She might be able to take a short leave. He’s still stuck in the anger stage of his grief. It actually reminds me of that time B’Elanna…” Harry trailed off.

  Tom turned away, and Harry quickly added, “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” Tom shrugged. “And you’re probably right. B’Elanna might be the only person left who could get through to him.”

  “Is that an option?”

  “No.” Tom shook his head.

  Harry stood, dejected, staring at the holodeck grid. “It’ll pass,” he finally said, clearly trying to convince himself more than anyone. “He’s hurting now. It hasn’t even been six weeks. But sooner or later he’s going to bounce back, and until then, we just have to support him the best way we can. We owe him that much.”

  “So we should just stay out of his way and pretend he isn’t becoming more erratic every day?” Tom asked.

  “We’ll think of something,” Harry assured him.

  Tom turned again to the holodeck controls, and again hesitated to activate them.

  “I’m sorry, Harry, I’m just not up for Captain Proton right now,” he finally admitted.

  “How about some velocity?” Harry suggested.

  Tom thought about it before replying, “I think I’d better save myself for those waste processors.”

  Harry nodded, resigned.

  “If she was still here, what do you think she would do?” Harry asked.

  “Admiral Janeway?”

  “Yeah.”

  “If she could see him like this,” Tom said sadly, “she’d be kicking his former Maquis ass.”

  FEBRUARY 2381

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Jarem Kaz found his captain alone in astrometrics in the small hours of the morning. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. The puffiness under his eyes had recently resolved itself into deep circles the color of a bruise. His shoulders were stooped and his hands trembled slightly as he worked the control interface. In some ways this was better than the alternative of the last several months. The shakes were symptomatic of the detoxification process his body was undergoing. Chakotay had stopped drinking the day word had arrived of the Borg attacks on Acamar and Barolia. The doctor had discreetly offered him a drug therapy that would make the process easier on his body, but accepting treatment would have meant acknowledging he had a problem, and Chakotay would never do that. His mood hadn’t improved dramatically, but at least Kaz was comforted by the knowledge that he had to be more clearheaded now that he was no longer intent on numbing his obvious pain.

  Instead, he had become focused with laserlike intensity upon one idea: destroying the Borg. No other topic had been up for discussion among the senior staff for weeks, and though several innovative strategies had been proposed, they had yet to locate even one cube on which Chakotay could vent his too-long-pent-up rage. Kaz believed it was only a matter of time. He was actually surprised to find that Chakotay was the only occupant of the astrometrics lab, even at this hour, as it was the most efficient tool at their disposal for detecting Borg activity. Likely as not, Chakotay had grown impatient with the officer on duty and simply dismissed him so as to better do the job himself.

  “Captain?” Kaz asked deferentially.

  Chakotay jumped, startled by the interruption.

  “What is it, Doctor?”

  “I couldn’t sleep,” Kaz admitted.

  “Join the club,” Chakotay muttered.

  “Actually, I’ve had a thought I wanted to run by you.”

  Chakotay paused to rub his eyes vigorously and squeeze his head between his hands to forcibly remove the grogginess that held him.

  “I’m listening.”

  “In the past, we’ve always focused our efforts on developing nanotech-based weapons targeting the Collective’s interlink, to render the Borg incapable of taking action, hostile or otherwise.”

  “You’re talking about the various neurolytic pathogens we’ve used before?”

  “Yes. Doctor Beverly Crusher has been working closely with Seven of Nine and several others to modify the latest effective pathogens, since we know the Borg have already adapted to and will be able to counter everything we’ve thrown at them so far.”

  “Right.”

  “And as for conventional weapons, we know that randomly rotating shield and phaser frequencies is effective only up to a point.”

  “True.”

  “And you’re sure we can’t get clearance to allow Vorik to try his hand at re-creating those transphasic torpedoes?”

  “I’ve asked Admiral Montgomery about it daily, and he keeps telling me Command is saving them as a weapon of last resort.”

  “Saving them for when?” Kaz demanded.

  “I wish I knew,” Chakotay replied bitterly. “Vorik is working on duplicating the shield and phaser frequencies first used in the Delta quadrant by the advanced drone, One, and with some serious power rerouting I think we’re going to have that up and running soon.”

  “But sheer firepower isn’t going to get the job done, is it?”

  “I doubt it.”

  “So we need something else.”

  “What did you have in mind?”

  Kaz took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts.

  “The first time the Federation battled the Borg, the Enterprise subdued them by giving the drones a very simple command: sleep.”

  “But that was only effective because Captain Picard was still linked to the hive mind and his crew were able to give the command through him,” said Chakotay. “The Borg aren’t assimilating anymore. They are simply destroying anything and everything in their path. Even if we could develop a new pathogen to disrupt their functions, there’s no easy way to get it assimilated into the Collective.”

  “Setting the delivery system issue aside for the moment, rather than trying to develop a new and complicated pathogen to sever their link, what if we were able to design a program which when assimilated would simply make the Borg believe that all affected technology had been catastrophically damaged—a ‘critical failure’ message, if you will.”

  Chakotay paused.

  “But all they’d have to do is look around to know that they weren’t damaged. How does that help us?”

  “The Borg believe what their nanoprobes tell them to believe. They don’t seek secondary confirmation for orders or assessments. They don’t think outside the Collective. And somewhere in Seven’s voluminous files on the subject she reported that when Borg systems are critically damaged, they automatically self-destruct to avoid the possibility of capture.”

  Chakotay’s face brightened. “You think we can fool them into blowing up their own vessel?”

  “I think if we can get properly modified nanoprobes into the central plexus of a Borg ship so that the signal will be carried beyond one cube, we can fool them into blowing up all of their vessels.”

  “Any questions?” Chakotay asked.

  Standing at the head of the conference table, his hands resting on the back of the tall chair in which he was much too restless to sit, Voyager’s captain met each of his senior officers’ eyes with what he hoped was reassurance.

  Harry Kim was the first to look nervously around the table before clearing his throat.

&
nbsp; “It’s a pretty ambitious plan, sir,” he said quietly.

  “Is that a problem, Lieutenant?” Chakotay shot back.

  “No, sir,” Kim replied immediately.

  “Five drones will be hard to neutralize, assuming we’re able to capture them,” Jarem Kaz piped up.

  “I believe five is the most we can hope to subdue and infect,” Chakotay replied. “And since it’s essential that at least one of them reach the central plexus to disseminate the modified nanoprobes, I want us playing with the best hand we can possibly build.”

  “Playing, sir?” Cambridge asked.

  Chakotay had never had much patience for his counselor’s semantic games.

  “If you have an objection, Counselor, out with it,” Chakotay replied. “Once we leave this room, the subject will be closed to debate.”

  “Fine,” Cambridge said, checking his fellow officers’ faces before continuing. “Every single time Starfleet has confronted the possibility of infecting the Borg with a software virus or pathogen capable of destroying them, we have hit the same ethical wall. We will protect ourselves, with deadly force if necessary, but we will not use tactics that are tantamount to genocide. Previous pathogens that have proved effective were designed to disrupt the Borg’s ability to function collectively. While it is clear that in some instances the results were more destructive, that was not necessarily the weapon’s intent. The possibility always existed that the Borg would lose their ability to attack us, without suffering complete annihilation.”

  “It’s highly unlikely that the modified nanoprobes Doctor Kaz has developed will do more than destroy one cube at a time,” Chakotay replied. “And we’ll be lucky if they don’t adapt after our first attack. But if they don’t, and we’re lucky enough to infect all of the cubes that have infiltrated the Alpha quadrant, then I won’t lose any sleep over it.”

  “That’s precisely my objection, Captain,” Cambridge said evenly.

  Chakotay took a moment to see if anyone else seemed inclined to share the counselor’s point of view. All eyes but his were studying the table.

  “In the past few weeks, the Borg have made their intentions toward the Federation crystal clear,” Chakotay said simply. “Command has authorized every Federation and allied vessel to use any and all means necessary to destroy the Borg. If we don’t end them, they’re going to end us. This is war, Counselor. Billions have already died. We’re now fighting for our right to exist. And we might not be in this position if at some point in the past someone had realized that principles are nice until you’re facing an enemy who doesn’t have any. If we must sink to their level in order to beat them, so be it.”

  “It’s a compelling argument, Captain,” Cambridge conceded. “There’s only one problem.”

  “Only one?” Chakotay almost laughed.

  “We may succeed, but if we lose what is best in us in the process, what have we won? Does a Federation willing to forgo the beliefs upon which it was founded in order to defeat its enemies deserve to exist?”

  “Of course it does,” Jarem Kaz replied.

  “Doctor Kaz—”

  But Kaz continued on, rolling right over Cambridge’s interruption. “The Federation doesn’t engage in inhumane practices because they are historically ineffective. We don’t torture sentient beings for information and we don’t execute them, even for the worst offenses. We don’t do these things, not because of their effect on our enemies, but because of their effect upon us. It’s wrong for a state to turn its people into monsters, even to secure ourselves, because we draw the line at becoming what we behold. But the Borg are different.”

  “So was the Dominion, if I recall correctly,” Cambridge argued.

  “Counselor, your objection is noted,” Chakotay said. “For the record, I agree with Doctor Kaz. We find ourselves in extraordinary circumstances. The principles that we all swore to uphold will die with us if the Borg have their way, and I’ll die before I allow that to happen.”

  After a brief pause during which no one else seemed inclined to speak, Chakotay continued. “Lieutenant Vorik, how much longer will it take to implement the shield and phaser modifications we’ve discussed?”

  “At least two days,” the Vulcan replied.

  “You have thirty hours, no more,” Chakotay said. “Tom, adjust the duty shifts to twelve-hour rotations until further notice. Harry, begin drilling your teams to subdue our anticipated guests. Patel, get busy constructing those interlink nodes, and Doctor Kaz, get to work on the modified nanoprobes. Ensign Lasren, continue to monitor the tactical scout and be ready to intercept.”

  Nods all around the table confirmed that his orders would be followed.

  “Dismissed.”

  Twenty-eight hours later, Voyager set a course for the small tactical vessel their sensors had detected four days earlier.

  As the ship grew larger on the main viewscreen, Kim hoped that their preparations would be sufficient. He would have been reassured immensely by the presence of Seven of Nine, but she was serving as a special adviser to Federation President Bacco during the crisis. Voyager still retained data from every Borg encounter they had experienced while in the Delta quadrant, and that data was about to be put to a brutal test.

  “Helm, what’s our distance?” Chakotay asked.

  “Five hundred thousand kilometers,” Tare replied.

  “Commander Paris, your shuttles are clear to launch,” Chakotay called over the comm.

  Within moments Harry watched as the Delta Flyer with Tom at the helm and four of Voyager’s Type-9 shuttles streaked out of the bay and entered formation ahead of Voyager.

  “They’ll be in weapons range in ten seconds, Captain,” Harry advised, careful to keep his voice calm and steady.

  “All weapons, target their shields. Doctor Kaz, is your team ready in cargo bay two?”

  “Affirmative, Captain.”

  Kim watched his chronometer count down, and when it reached zero called out, “The Borg vessel is now in range.”

  “All ships, open fire,” Chakotay ordered.

  At his command, the shuttles broke formation and commenced hammering the tactical vessel’s shield generators with a barrage of augmented phaser fire, each ship cycling through different frequencies at any given instant. Every time the Borg ship compensated for one of them, it became vulnerable to another, and its shield generators fell like dominoes.

  The Borg returned fire, but the Starfleet ships’ redesigned shields were proving as effective as their enhanced phasers. The power required to sustain these modifications was massive and would blow out the power relays in minutes, but Harry was confident that this battle was not going to last that long.

  “Prepare to drop shields,” Chakotay ordered. “Transporter room one, get a lock on five of the Borg and beam them directly to the cargo bay. Tom, bring our shuttles home.”

  “We’re on our way, Captain,” Tom’s voice replied.

  A few tense seconds later, Kaz called over the comm, “Cargo bay two to the captain. The drones have been captured and subdued.”

  “Good work, Doctor. Transfer them to sickbay at once.”

  “Captain, the Borg vessel’s shields are beginning to regenerate,” Lasren advised.

  “Harry, launch quantum torpedo barrage while there’s still time,” Chakotay said.

  Seconds later, a bright burst of green and orange filled the viewscreen, and Harry, along with everyone else on the bridge, breathed an audible sigh of relief.

  Chakotay rose from his chair, smiling for the first time Kim could remember in a long time.

  “Take us down to Yellow Alert. All hands, this is the captain. Job well done. We are now moving into phase two.”

  Turning to Ensign Lasren, he said, “Begin continuous long-range scans. Find us a Borg cube.”

  Fourteen hours later, Chakotay entered sickbay to find Kaz and his staff monitoring the five drones they had captured from the Borg vessel, each of whom lay unconscious on a biobed behind a level-ten for
ce field.

  “Report,” he said crisply.

  “The procedure was a success, Captain,” Kaz informed him. “The drones now all carry the modified nanoprobes.”

  “Which version of the code did you finally settle on?” Chakotay asked.

  “The crudest but also the most effective. The nanoprobes will propagate an alert indicating catastrophic damage. Once that message reaches enough of the cube’s systems, the ship will automatically initiate its self-destruct protocol. There’s always a chance that the queen, wherever she is, might step in and stop it, but the time delay is set just long enough to allow for maximum dispersal before they emit the ‘catastrophic’ message. Heck, the queen might just destroy the ships herself before she realizes there wasn’t anything wrong with them.”

  “From your mouth to her ears,” Chakotay replied. “And how about the interlink nodes?”

  “Thanks to your former EMH’s extensive work in the area, it was easy enough to sever these drones from the hive mind, but it was a little trickier to establish a stable link between them. Two of them almost died in the process. But the link appears to be active. You are now the proud owner of your own little collective, Captain. Their orders are simple. ‘Go immediately to the central plexus and inject the nanoprobes.’”

  “What are the chances the other drones will attack them when they realize that the ones we’re returning aren’t connected to the rest of the Collective anymore?”

  “Excellent,” Kaz replied bitterly. “But by transporting them to five separate locations, we’re doing all we can to maximize their potential for success.”

  “It’s the best we can do for now, isn’t it?” Chakotay mused.

  “I wasn’t sure we’d get this far,” Kaz admitted. “I’d say it’s better than we could have hoped for.”

  “Once we’ve detected a cube, we’ll need to be ready to deploy the drones at a moment’s notice.”

  “Just give the word, Captain.” Kaz nodded. “We’ll be ready.”