“No,” B’Elanna replied. “She loves it here. What kid wouldn’t?” she added, looking around the room at the variety of toys and educational games, “but Drafar would never forgive me if I left her behind.”
Tom was certain he hadn’t heard that right.
“I beg your pardon?” he asked.
“It’s a long story.” B’Elanna smiled wistfully.
“Give me the short version.”
B’Elanna shrugged. “Turns out Lendrin males are more than adequate caregivers. In fact, Drafar is exceptional.”
Tom’s face hardened a little. “B’Elanna, what did you do?” he asked.
She responded with a sheepish smile. “I admit, at first I was just trying to prove a point. I brought her to work with me one day and the two of them really hit it off. Since then, he’s had a meter-high shadow following him around everywhere and I can’t tell which of them enjoys it more. She’s like his mascot, and you’ll never believe how much she’s learned.”
Tom turned to see Miral rummaging in her mother’s personal tool kit. “Is that a hydrospanner?” he asked dubiously.
“Don’t worry,” B’Elanna replied. “She can’t turn it on unless I release the safeties.”
Tom was glad to hear it the moment he saw the business end of it go into Miral’s mouth.
“The Doctor is pretty peeved,” Tom said, knowing his was a losing cause.
“I know,” B’Elanna said, “and I feel terrible. But as soon as these repairs are done, I’ve promised him that we’ll start more regular studies here with his programs. You know, a few weeks ago I was worried that it was going to be hard to keep her entertained all day between our schedules. Turns out, I’m having to fight off a long list of folks who want her around.”
Tom turned again to look at Miral, who was now banging the hydrospanner against a domical metal play structure.
“Can you blame them?” he asked.
“Nope,” B’Elanna replied, smiling broadly.
“I still get you both for dinner, right?” Tom asked.
“Of course,” B’Elanna replied. “Harry and Nancy are joining us tonight, though,” she added.
“I’m serving on the same ship with them,” Tom said. “How is it you know this before I do?”
“You’ve got to start getting up earlier, my love,” B’Elanna replied, kissing him gently on the cheek. “I talked with Nancy this morning before she left to meet with Harry on the holodeck. They’ve been working out together for a few days, and so far, so good.”
“Am I needed here at all?” Tom asked in mock frustration.
“Always,” B’Elanna assured him. “Miral, kiss your daddy good-bye. We’ve got a busy day ahead of us.”
“Bye!” Miral said, blowing a kiss from her perch at the top of the play structure.
Not willing to settle for this, Tom crossed to her and gently lifted her in his arms. “Come on, you two,” he said. “Let Daddy walk you to the transporter.”
U.S.S. VOYAGER
Before heading down to the planet’s surface to meet with Captain Farkas, Eden stopped in to see Counselor Cambridge at his request. She found him seated in his usual chair, staring into the distance as his hand played idly with his bottom lip.
“Good morning, Hugh,” she greeted him. “You wished to see me?”
“I did,” he replied.
“Is something wrong?” she asked, seating herself across from him and leaning forward, elbows on her knees.
“Every spare moment that I’ve had since you first explained your little problem to me, I’ve spent researching every conceivable connection between the artifacts you recognized and the resources of the Federation database as well as my own enviable collection.”
“And?” she asked, not sure what she was hoping to hear.
“Apart from a momentary flirtation with the certainty that you were somehow descended from or a member of the Progenitor species, which I have since abandoned … And that reminds me, I probably owe an apology to Lieutenant Patel …”
“Hugh?” she interrupted, concerned.
“I told her nothing, never fear,” he assured her. “But it, like every other path I searched, has led absolutely nowhere. There is clearly something unique and not quite right about your genome,” he added, “but as to its significance, I have no idea.”
Eden found herself smiling a little.
“You didn’t think …” she began. “I mean, I’ve already searched through what little of my uncles’ work was ever made public, as well as all Federation sources, and come up empty. Surely you didn’t think you would solve something I’ve been working on my entire life in a matter of weeks, did you?”
“I confess, that’s exactly what I thought.”
“Oh, Hugh,” Eden said warmly. “It’s very dear of you.”
“Perish the thought.”
“Listen. I want your input and I value your abilities, but this is not your problem to solve. And I want you to know something. I was pretty upset the night we first spoke about this, but the last few weeks have taught me beyond a doubt where my priorities are and will always be.”
“I’m intensely curious,” he went on as if he hadn’t heard her, “about these Mikhal Travelers.”
“As am I,” she admitted.
“Is it possible that our next object of inquiry might include a diversion into their region of space?” he asked.
“No,” she replied, “and before you object, let me be absolutely clear. We are here using the Federation’s resources and at their bidding. Should we come across something relevant while pursuing their agenda, I would be willing to investigate it as long as it does not become a distraction from our other duties.”
“Didn’t the Urnatal who presented Dasht with that staff ask us to establish formal relations?” Hugh asked too innocently.
“They did, and that is one avenue I believe we should follow up on. But tempting as it might be to make this mission all about my own little treasure hunt, I’m not going to give in to that temptation, and neither are you.”
“I think that’s just silly,” Hugh said petulantly.
“I’m not surprised,” Eden replied congenially. “But that’s the way it’s going to be,” she added more firmly.
“So you’re content to leave this to the whims of fate?” he asked incredulously.
“I have to be,” she replied. “Otherwise I wouldn’t be worthy of this uniform.”
“I’m not going to just let this go,” he advised her. “It’s simply too interesting a subject.”
“Don’t,” she said, “but it will not interfere with your other duties either.”
“Understood,” Hugh replied. “Most unhappily, I might add.”
“And whatever you did to annoy Lieutenant Patel, I suggest you make haste in setting it to rights. I want my senior staff functioning at peak efficiency, unencumbered by petty personal disputes.”
“You’ve met all of your senior staff on numerous occasions now, haven’t you?” Hugh teased. “The odds of that happening are only slightly less than the odds we’re going to run across your homeworld by accident.”
“For what it’s worth, I don’t think it can possibly be that simple,” Eden said more thoughtfully. “I mean, Tallar and Jobin were never in the Delta Quadrant, at least as far as I know.”
“But now in the space of only a few months you have found two artifacts that inarguably originated here and are obviously significant,” Hugh argued. “That can’t be coincidence.”
“It could be, if the common denominator isn’t the artifacts, but instead is me.”
“I don’t follow.”
“Perhaps there is no connection between the language written on that staff and the Mikhal map. Maybe my years of exploration with my uncles just made me sensitive to ancient languages, and my ability to translate them is no more than a freakish trick my brain keeps playing on me.”
Hugh paused to consider this. Finally he said, “You don’t really belie
ve that, do you?”
“No. But it would be nice if it were that simple, wouldn’t it?”
“Maybe for you. Personally, I’ll wait and hope for better things.”
A soft beep from Cambridge’s desk pulled them from their musings.
“What’s that?” Eden asked.
“Time for my first appointment,” Hugh replied.
Eden rose. “Work well,” she instructed him.
She left him seated as she had found him. She could only hope that he would take to heart her instructions and determination to avoid confusing the personal and the professional.
Hugh waited five minutes for his patient to arrive before asking the computer to locate Seven. She had notified him, quite unexpectedly, the evening before that she was ready to resume her normal counseling sessions.
“Seven of Nine is on deck six, section three, outside Counselor Cambridge’s quarters.”
Puzzled, he rose from his chair and poked his head out the door. Seven stood leaning her back against the wall across from him, her hands crossed at her chest.
“Are you coming in, or did you want to conduct your session in a more public place this morning?” he asked.
“I have been reconsidering whether or not I wish to participate in the session,” Seven replied.
“Very well,” he said, and returned to his chair, the door closing automatically behind him.
A few moments later, Seven entered without announcing herself and crossed to stand beside the chair in which she would normally have sat.
“And what was the verdict?” Cambridge asked evenly.
“You are the most exasperating person I have ever met,” Seven said. “And when you consider that this includes every member of the Federation Institute, not to mention the Borg Queen in numerous incarnations, that’s saying something.”
“You’ll get no argument from me,” Cambridge replied.
“Do you wish to continue our sessions?” Seven surprised him by asking.
“I believe we still have a great deal of ground to cover,” he replied honestly, “but without your voluntary participation …”
“Please stand,” she said in a tone that brooked no refusal.
Cambridge shocked both of them by rising immediately.
Without further preamble she moved well into his personal space, raised a hand to his face, and firmly pulled his lips to hers.
The kiss was brief, but not without promise. She then stepped back, putting a few paces between them, and said, “The Meguti once occupied a Class-M planet in sector 191 of the Delta Quadrant and were known for the complexity of their architectural structures, which survived hundreds of thousands of years after they became extinct. The Rurokitan were a migratory race who covered dozens of sectors some sixty thousand light-years from our present location and were last heard from four hundred years ago. Hrimshee was worshipped for two thousand years by the Nov, who waged war in his name with the Veniti and disappeared from all records over a thousand years ago.” Without missing a beat she went on, “Given your regard for me, I believe it would be inappropriate for us to continue our relationship as doctor and patient. However, if you are willing to overcome your many shortcomings to explore a relationship of a more personal nature, I would not object.”
With that, she turned and left his quarters. Cambridge cleared his throat as his heart began to run a brisk and thready race.
“Damn,” he said aloud, wondering exactly when he had lost control of this situation and whether or not his heart would ever again be his to command.
Chapter Thirty
STARDATE 58536.2
Chakotay found it difficult to look for too long at the vast company assembled on the plain below. The evening was cool and would grow colder in an hour, once the sun had set. Most of the area that had housed Quirinal’s crew for the last six weeks had been cleared of any sign that they had ever been there. For this brief time, the valley held the entire crew complement of the fleet Voyager was leading.
All the ship captains—himself, Glenn, Itak, Farkas, O’Donnell, Dasht, Xin, and Drafar—stood atop a low hill that rose several meters above the field where their crews stood at attention. A space had been cleared in the center, where T’Mar’s people should have been.
Behind the captains sat Quirinal, atop her landing struts, now completely repaired and ready to rejoin the fleet in the morning. Her massive beauty dwarfed the assembly, while serving as a visceral reminder that sometimes what had been thought lost could rise from the ashes.
Voyager had been dispatched a week earlier to collect the remains of Planck. What little they’d retrieved would be stored aboard Achilles until the fleet returned to the Alpha Quadrant. The assembly this night was meant to honor the ship and her dead. Another, smaller service would be held in the coming days aboard Quirinal to honor the sixty-three men and women who had perished in the attack of the Children of the Storm and during the ship’s crash landing.
As he stood at attention, Chakotay found it difficult to shake the shadows of Kathryn’s memorial. He was certain that at least this many had been in attendance, and the first few rows of faces he could clearly see were all touched with the somber seriousness of the moment.
Eden stood a few paces in front of the captains, preparing to address the assembly. He did not envy her this task. But any doubt he had harbored in recent weeks that she was suited for the position she held had been banished.
“Good evening,” she greeted them, her voice full and strong. “We gather here to perform our most difficult duty as Starfleet officers. Seventy of our fellows and the ship on which they traveled, the Federation Starship Planck, are no longer among us. We honor their service and their sacrifice and vow as we stand here to remember each and every one of them.
“Before I speak of the individuals who died in the performance of their duty, I believe it bears noting that they began this journey with us optimistic about the promise this mission held. Captain T’Mar selected a particularly beautiful quotation for his vessel’s dedication plaque: the words of a woman born on the planet Earth long before her people first dared to travel among the stars. Blinded in her infancy, she never looked upon the night sky with any understanding of the majesty it held, but its truth was not beyond her grasp. Her name was Helen Keller, and her words were these: ‘No pessimist discovered the secrets of the stars or sailed to an uncharted land or opened a new heaven to the human spirit.’
“This was the hope of those who served aboard the Planck, and indeed the hope with which we each rise daily to begin our duties. We come seeking knowledge of those who share our galaxy as we to continue to expand the horizons of all Federation citizens. We come to bridge the distance between people of goodwill and to bring a better understanding between those who may not yet know what fellowship is possible between those who seek peace.
“This work can only be done by those who maintain a spirit of optimism about our future. When our losses are as great as the ones we suffer now, grief makes it difficult for us to look within ourselves and rekindle this spirit. But we cannot permit our pain, heavy though it is, to diminish us. No one can replace those who have fallen. But it is worth remembering that beyond, and in some measure because of their sacrifice, a new peace has been established between ourselves and a species who now understand that not all who venture into space come to conquer and destroy. Only by looking beyond their cruelty and the devastating consequences of their ignorance was this possible. I would rather still have Planck and her crew among us. But I take comfort in the knowledge that her destruction did not turn us inward, where fear and pessimism would have led to even greater losses on both sides.
“Perhaps most difficult of all is the idea that we come here tonight to mourn, but also to celebrate the lives of Planck’s crew. Many of you counted dear friends among them. To you I extend my deepest sympathy. For those of you who may not have known them, you have only to look at those standing next to you to know this much of who they were: men and wom
en like yourselves who have come to this distant corner of the galaxy in search of greater knowing.”
After a short pause, Eden began the recitation of the names of those who were lost. “Captain Hosc T’Mar, Lieutenant Daniel Tregart, Lieutenant Anthony DeCarlo, Lieutenant Shurl Beldon, Ensign Danan Grim, Ensign Solonor Evet …”
As the darkness gathered around the company, Chakotay searched within himself for the patience to accept how much the universe had chosen to take from all of them. It would have been easy to tear at his own wounds, so familiar was the weight of grief all around him. He chose instead to leave them be and to focus on the truth that no one is truly lost when they remain in the hearts and minds of those who love them.
• • •
Once the formal ceremony had ended, the space left open in the field was soon filled with officers from every ship in the fleet greeting old comrades and sharing memories of Planck’s crew.
B’Elanna held tightly to Tom’s free hand. His other arm was wound snugly around Miral, who had fallen asleep with her head on his shoulder. B’Elanna had been meaning for weeks to speak with Captain Eden and had decided suddenly that there would be no better opportunity to address her concerns.
“I need a few minutes,” she said softly to Tom.
He nodded, replying, “I’m going to get back up to Voyager and put her to bed.”
“I’ll be there soon, I promise.” Before she released him, however, she added, “Wait up for me?”
“Of course,” he said, smiling.
B’Elanna then threaded her way through the crowd and climbed the low hill where Eden stood conferring softly with Captain O’Donnell.
Once they had parted, B’Elanna took the opening to say, “May I have a word, Captain?”
“Of course, Commander,” Eden said.
Although they were as far from alone as it was possible to get, the sheer size of the crowd made it possible for their words to pass unnoticed by the others.
“What you said up there,” B’Elanna began, “about seeking peace, it was lovely.”
Star Trek: Voyager: Children of the Storm Page 35
