Since there was no way to avoid this now, Chakotay opted for the course that would provide him with the most information in the shortest amount of time.
“Aubrey, target the ship’s shield generators and disable them,” Chakotay ordered. “Bridge to transporter room one, get a lock on all four life signs, and as soon as their shields are down, transport them directly to our brig.”
Aubrey responded by firing Voyager’s phasers and surgically disabling its shields. A few moments later, the transporter officer reported, “Transport successful.”
“Aubrey, destroy that ship.”
The tactical officer brought the Unmarked ship to a timely end. The explosion was larger than it might have been had that second torpedo not been armed, but the ship’s distance from Voyager minimized the effect.
“Waters?” Chakotay asked of his ops officer.
“The vessel has been destroyed, sir. The Lamont has finished off the last ship they had engaged and is now altering course to intercept us.”
“Hold position,” Chakotay ordered. “Don’t accept any incoming transmissions until I tell you to,” he added as he rose from his chair. “Aubrey, the bridge is yours. Your job is to buy me as much time as you can. B’Elanna, you’re with me.”
En route to the brig, Chakotay called to sickbay to ask the Doctor to join them in the event any of the prisoners were injured. He was advised by the nurse, who had just reported for duty when the ship was attacked, that the Doctor had sealed himself in his office and was refusing to answer repeated calls.
Chakotay was clearly frustrated by this, but he simply ordered the nurse to report in the Doctor’s place.
Torres did not know what had prompted the Doctor to take such extreme actions, but she was willing to bet it had something to do with the assistance she had given him the previous evening. As soon as the crisis had passed, she would give Chakotay a full report and her recommendation that he go easy on the Doctor. Right now, she didn’t think he would take that advice, but depending on how this situation developed, that could change.
Voyager’s brig consisted of two holding cells. Each cell now contained two aliens, one female and three males. None were Leodt or Djinari. Torres could not even offer an educated guess at their species or homeworlds.
Chakotay wasted no time. Entering the brig behind her, he moved to the center of the security area and addressed himself to all four of his captives.
“I am Captain Chakotay of the Federation Starship Voyager. I’ve taken you prisoner because you attempted to destroy my ship. Were we in Federation space when that happened, you would all be taken from here to the nearest appropriate location to stand trial for this offense. But we’re guests here, and as best I can tell, the Confederacy handles these things a little differently than we do.
“I’m not here to judge them for that. In fact, your choice to attack my ship has complicated my life. Therefore, you should take the fact that I am speaking to you as an indication of my reasonable nature, but please do not deceive yourselves by thinking that I’m going to waste my time playing games.
“I’ve been told that the Unmarked have some grievance against the Confederate government and that, rather than handle this grievance through proper channels, you have decided to unleash a terror campaign to force the government to accede to your terms. I have also been told that you are all well aware that your actions will be met by deadly force and came here knowing you would die shortly after entering the system. Is this true?”
“No, no, and no,” one of the males replied, a short, stocky fellow with a thin, translucent second skin covering the entirety of his face, which was spotted in various shades of green. His face was wide and his features flat. His eyes gleamed with intensity, though not insolence.
“Were you that ship’s captain?” Chakotay asked.
“I’m Yellna,” he said, “and the Frenibarg was mine.”
“You have one minute to help me understand how we all got here. If you lie to me, when the Twelfth Lamont arrives, I’m going to hand you over to them.”
“You’re going to hand us over anyway,” Yellna corrected him.
A tight smile flickered across Chakotay’s face. “I may. I may not. Fifty seconds.”
“Don’t tell him anything,” the female, a ruddy-faced woman with short silver hair and exceptionally long earlobes, said.
“Forty-five seconds,” Chakotay said. “Is this really how you want to spend the time you’ve been given?”
“We had no idea the Lamont would be here. We came to take out Lecahn’s orbital defenses. Had we succeeded, the next wave would have attacked their initiation site.”
“What’s an ‘initiation site’?” Torres asked.
“Lecahn is one of only three worlds in the Confederacy that produces protectors. For the last four cycles, the central government has ordered their protectors to destroy every vessel launched from our homeworld, Grysyen. Our world was hit by a massive ion storm eight cycles ago. Our cities were devastated. Our manufacturing centers were destroyed. Our agricultural production came to a screeching halt. Our lives changed overnight. We begged the central government to send help. They didn’t.”
“Why?” Chakotay asked.
“Our planet has a long history of welcoming great thinkers, philosophers, scientists, artists, anyone interested in finding new ways to attack old problems. Our economic interests are as diverse as our people. Most never wanted to join the Confederacy, but several critical streams of their supposed Great River intersect just outside our star system. The strategic significance of our location and our ability to hinder transit through those streams was too great for the central government to risk. We were ill prepared for armed conflict when the CIF first arrived and explained the benefits of membership. We were told we would be allowed to live our lives as we pleased. Four generations ago our leaders relented to the inevitable and attempted to make the alliance work to our benefit. But our ability to share our ideas with outsiders has been severely restricted, and when that ion storm hit, no one was happier than the central government. They’ve always wanted our planet but not our people.
“Once we accepted that help was not coming, our leaders petitioned for revocation of our charter so that we might be free to seek aid from other unaligned worlds. That petition was denied. Exile seemed our only hope for survival, but even that is now denied us. We are being slowly and systematically wiped out by the government that swore to protect us when we joined the Confederacy. If we cannot impact their ability to restrict our travel through the destruction of the protectors, we have no chance at all.”
“If the protectors are being used as you say, how did your ships get by them?” Torres asked.
“I’m not going to answer that,” Yellna said.
“You don’t have to,” Chakotay said softly. Turning, he met Torres’s eyes, and ghosts of their shared past rose between them.
“Bridge to Captain Chakotay,” Waters’s voice called over the comm. Chakotay could hear the stress in it.
“Go ahead.”
“The Lamont is requesting an open channel. I’ve run through every excuse I can think of to deny it.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Chakotay said. “I’ll speak to General Mattings from here.”
“Understood. Bridge out.”
“What are you going to tell him?” Torres asked softly. The captain had no time to answer before the general’s voice crackled through his combadge.
“Are you there, Captain?”
“We are, General.”
“I apologize for the fact that the Lamont was unable to keep you out of harm’s way. Our sensors confirmed that you destroyed the fifth and last Unmarked vessel. You have my gratitude and that of the Confederacy.”
You can keep your gratitude, Chakotay thought. The captain was experienced enough to know how bad relationships worked. Your gut told you from the beginning to stay out of it. You got drawn in anyway, telling yourself your eyes were open to the good and the b
ad. There was just enough good to keep you interested but not enough to allow you to commit. One day you woke up with nothing but regrets and wasted time.
Chakotay had no way of knowing whether or not Yellna was telling him the truth. But his version of the facts did not contradict what Eleoate had told him, nor did it seem out of character for the Confederacy. Sadly, it was all too easy to believe.
Worse, it did not change what he was now obligated to do. He had a duty to his prisoners, but first he must see to his own.
“General, I’ll be happy to discuss what I’m about to tell you in greater detail when time permits. For now, I must advise you that Federation law and Starfleet protocols do not permit me to destroy another vessel and kill its crew unless every other avenue for a peaceful resolution has been explored. This was not our fight and we withdrew as you requested. It seems both of us were unaware of the Unmarked ship’s capabilities. When the Frenibarg pursued and engaged us, we were prepared to defend ourselves. Their tactics forced us to destroy the ship. But prior to its destruction, we were able to rescue the four crew members who were aboard.”
A long moment of silence followed, during which Yellna and his compatriots stared at Chakotay with unbridled rage.
“I have begun interrogating them,” Chakotay continued.
“Captain, I’m going to stop you right there,” the general said, his voice cold. “How were you able to rescue that crew?”
Chakotay tapped his combadge to close the channel. To Torres he said, “Find out if their shields are down.”
Torres requested the information directly from the bridge and confirmed that the Lamont’s shields were down, though her weapons were still hot.
Chakotay then ordered her to contact transporter room one and prepare to return Lieutenant Kim to Voyager. When all was ready, he reopened his channel to the Lamont.
“With your permission, General, I’ll show you.”
“Show me what?” Mattings asked.
“Chakotay to transporter room one. Initiate transport.”
TWELFTH LAMONT
General Mattings could not pinpoint the exact moment when defeat had been snatched from the jaws of his most recent victory until Captain Chakotay spoke the words “Initiate transport.”
Lieutenant Kim had given him ten plausible reasons why it had taken Chakotay so long to answer his initial hails once the battle was over. He liked Kim. He trusted him. He knew both Kim and Chakotay were under orders to withhold technological information from him, and he didn’t expect that to change until the diplomats had finished their work. For his part, he had been completely honest with Captain Chakotay from the first moment they had met.
Mattings wasn’t sure what he expected when Chakotay ordered “transport.” In the back of his mind he’d wondered if Voyager’s relationship with the ancient protectors had gone even deeper than Kim had let on. The sight of Lieutenant Kim dematerializing before his very eyes hadn’t even occurred to him as a possibility. He’d seen marvels in his day. None of them compared to this extraordinary technology.
The general maintained his composure as shocked intakes of breath registered all around him. Eleoate was the first to break the spell cast by the magic they had just witnessed. “All hands, command center orders threat level ten. Confirm.”
“Belay that,” Mattings barked.
“General,” Eleoate began.
“Not another word,” Mattings ordered. Eleoate’s eyes widened, but his mouth closed.
“Captain Chakotay?”
“We’re still here, General.”
“Please tell me that Lieutenant Kim is now safe and sound aboard your ship.”
“He is, General.”
“So this transporter of yours is used only in emergencies?”
“Under normal circumstances, it is used on a routine basis.”
“I see.”
“I realize it was not your intention to negotiate with those who attacked Lecahn, but they tell an interesting story, one I think you should hear.”
“Captain, my orders concerning the Unmarked are long-standing and explicit.”
“You and I both know that sometimes the situation on the ground is more complicated than those who issue our orders understand. There are times it becomes necessary to uphold the spirit of them rather than the letter. Your superiors could not have anticipated our ability to rescue the crew. Presumably, you did not have the luxury of even making the attempt. If you can assure me that these prisoners will be afforded legal protection, counsel, and the ability to air their grievances to the appropriate powers, I will release them to your custody. I know you to be a man of your word.”
The general had spent the last several weeks imagining how his life and the life of his Confederacy might be improved by a relationship with the Federation and her people. They seemed soft to the untrained eye. Mattings saw past that. Two of their ships had taken on fourteen at the Gateway and survived. No one risked those odds unless they were confident or insane, and he knew Chakotay was not the latter. Mattings didn’t know how the diplomats were proceeding, but he hoped it was carefully. The general was proud of his people, but despite their numbers, he had never believed they had the upper hand in this situation. Had the Federation arrived intent on conquest or advertising their superior technology, the general would have been content to see them fly away with their self-esteem checked. But they hadn’t. They had kept their secrets close and asked only for the opportunity to get to know the people of the Confederacy. They had come to learn. And, even now, they were being honest to a fault.
The Federation was a worthy ally; this the general did not doubt. But he knew now that such an alliance would never be possible, and that grieved him more than he could say.
“I appreciate that, Captain,” Mattings finally said. “I will not disrespect your position or your faith in me by telling you what you want to hear. You will turn over the prisoners to me now, and they will be executed immediately. They made their choice and, in doing so, determined mine. I am not permitted to question the orders I have been given.”
“General, executing these people will not solve your problem or theirs. The Confederacy has taken a number of actions since its founding that are deeply troubling. You have already indicated that you hope to see your people move beyond that past into a better future. You risked a great deal in showing us what you did on Lecahn. I wish to repay that trust and will take full responsibility for the rescue of the prisoners. What they have told me suggests that some who hold power are not utilizing that power in a manner that is consistent with your Confederacy’s stated values of respect for its members and the rights of your citizens. At some point your people must face this. Allow me to take them back to the First World, and we will take this to your superiors together. Working together, we will find a way through this. Please allow me to help you.”
The general bowed his head. After a few more moments of silent contemplation, he issued his orders.
VOYAGER
Lieutenant Harry Kim had been transported directly to the brig, so he had been privy to Chakotay’s exchange with Mattings. He hoped that the general would accept Chakotay’s offer. He didn’t know the details, but he knew that his captain would not be taking this risk without good reason.
“Captain Chakotay,” the general finally responded, breaking the tense silence following Chakotay’s last request. “I want you to know how much I appreciate your very kind offer. You serve your people with the same passion and dedication I have always felt for mine. As far as I am concerned, nothing that has happened here today changes the respect I have for you or the ideals of your people. You have given me a great deal to think about today.”
Chakotay nodded, looking to Kim, confident he had made his point.
Simultaneously, the ship quaked beneath Kim’s feet in an all too familiar sensation. Seconds later, Kim felt the unmistakable charge of EM energy in the air. It passed near enough to crackle the air around him and sent sparks flying as it m
oved through the forcefields separating the cells from the secured area of the brig.
Chakotay immediately tapped his combadge. “Chakotay to the bridge. Report.”
Waters replied, “Four protectors have emerged from subspace and breached our shields.”
“Vent tetryon plasma,” Chakotay ordered.
It was already too late.
The prisoners were lifted from the deck by an invisible force, their screams evident but silent as they were taken from the ship as easily as Harry had once been returned to the Demeter by the ancient ones.
“Harry, options?” Chakotay asked, grasping at straws.
Kim shook his head and shrugged. “There’s nothing we can do until the protectors release them, Captain.”
Chakotay looked ready to punch something but only ordered, “Waters, as soon as you can get a lock on those life signs, bring them back.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” Waters advised. “The prisoners were taken into open space to the precise coordinates where their ship was destroyed and executed by the protectors. We could never establish a lock.”
Chakotay’s face turned to stone.
His breath was heavy, forced through his nose as the adrenaline he was battling ran its course. Finally he said, “Gwyn, set course for the First World, maximum warp. Waters, advise the Lamont of our course and destination. Do not accept any further incoming transmission from the Lamont.”
“Understood, Captain,” Waters replied.
As Chakotay started toward the door, Kim asked, “What did you expect him to do, Captain?”
“Surprise me,” Chakotay replied.
“He would likely have faced the CIF’s version of a court-martial had he done that,” Kim said.
“Probably,” Chakotay agreed. “I understand his choice. That doesn’t mean I have to like it. What I do know is that we’re done here. There will be no alliance with these people.”
“The admiral might disagree.”
“She won’t,” Chakotay said simply. “She wouldn’t.”
Star Trek: Voyager - 043 - Acts of Contrition Page 31
