Star Trek: Voyager - 043 - Acts of Contrition

by Kirsten Beyer

  “I did,” the Doctor insisted. “And now she’s dead.”

  “Doctor, I think your program might have been damaged,” Chakotay said, rising. “We’ll be rejoining the Galen shortly. I’m going to deactivate your program until then, and as soon as I can get Reg Barclay over here, he’ll figure out what’s happened to you and fix it.”

  “Reg? But he’s still at Jupiter Station, isn’t he?”

  “Computer, deactivate Emergency Medical Hologram,” Chakotay ordered. “Command authorization override Gamma Pi Six Nine Delta.”

  The Doctor vanished.

  For a few seconds, Chakotay toyed with the idea of bringing the slipstream drive online so that Voyager could regroup with the Galen in a matter of minutes rather than hours. But he’d already revealed more than he should have to General Mattings, and the Twelfth Lamont was surely monitoring their course. Any unexpected deviation from the plan he had submitted before departing Lecahn would surely be greeted with suspicion, if not worse.

  The Doctor’s existence might depend on it. Then again, it might not. Surely no further harm could come to his program as long as it was deactivated.

  Twenty-four hours, Chakotay told himself. Reg will fix this.

  He hoped.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  CORIDAN

  Doctor Frist had remained silent throughout the entirety of Sharak’s report. He had told her of his suspicions about the infection rates that had driven him to Coridan, his discovery of Ria, her suicide, and the results Doctor Mik had just confirmed. Apparently, several months earlier, Ria had attached a device to the hospital’s main environmental controls intended to disperse throughout the entire hospital an airborne virus similar to one Mik had discovered in several of his quarantine patients. Had it not been discovered, every person in the facility would have succumbed within a few days. Further analysis of Ria’s contacts with the patients at the hospital over the past year indicated that she had personally attended every single plague victim that had been sent to quarantine. No likely accomplices had been identified thus far.

  “I grant you, this is remarkable information, Doctor,” Frist finally said, “but you were not authorized to perform this investigation, and you are hereby ordered to return to Earth immediately and suspend any further work on this matter.”

  “Why?” Sharak asked.

  “Our team needs to review your findings. Once that’s done, we will proceed as we see fit. Your services are no longer required. You may remain at your temporary quarters until Seven has been released from our secured area.”

  “I wish to speak with Seven immediately,” Sharak said.

  “That will not be possible.”

  Uzan. His army. With fist closed.

  “That is unacceptable, Doctor Frist,” Sharak said simply. “For more than a year, your staff, despite expending considerable energy attempting to contain and eradicate this plague, has failed to learn that it was not being spread by natural forms of transmission. An individual unknown to you has been able to access infectious materials and transmit them to patients, artificially inflating your casualty rates.

  “I came to Coridan seeking answers to questions you have failed to ask, and I found those answers. I was brought here by a fellow Starfleet officer, Lieutenant Samantha Wildman, who has not been advised of the details of my work, given its classification. Before I spoke with you, I contacted her superior officer and advised him of the seriousness of our situation and the need for timely action. He has agreed to release her from her current duties in order to continue to assist me.

  “As soon as our contact is terminated, I will brief Lieutenant Samantha Wildman on every aspect of the catomic plague with which I am familiar. We will then proceed to Ardana, to determine whether or not Ria was acting alone here or had accomplices on the other worlds where this plague has arisen.”

  “You are not authorized to do that,” Frist said.

  “I’m not asking for your authorization, Doctor. According to Lieutenant Wildman, there is a very good chance that Ria was a member of an extinct species, the Planarians. Unless you agree to allow me to continue my investigations, I will immediately contact the head of Starfleet Medical to advise him that a Planarian might be involved in this crisis. I am sure he will remember sooner than I did that Commander Jefferson Briggs came to enjoy his current reputation by first extrapolating the Planarian genome.

  “The implications of this potential connection are most disturbing. If we are able to find any accomplices on Ardana or Aldebaran, and confirm that they are not Planarians, we might conclude that Ria’s species was identified in error. As we were unable to collect any samples of her DNA following her self-annihilation, we cannot confirm or deny our theory. I am certain that Commander Briggs would prefer that we verify our suspicions before taking them to a higher authority.”

  Frist stared silently at him for almost a full minute. Finally she said, “I will speak to the Commander and advise you as soon as possible.”

  “I will set course immediately for Ardana. I will report any significant discoveries I make there to you. Sharak out.”

  Once the connection was terminated, Sharak rose from the comm station and contacted the runabout, requesting transport. His fears for Miss Seven troubled him deeply. But he was certain that his best chance of securing her safe return lay in completing what he had begun on Coridan. Should any harm come to her as a result of his efforts, he would grieve. But he could not allow thousands more to suffer and die needlessly in the name of protecting a single individual.

  As soon as he materialized on the runabout’s transporter pad, he nodded to Wildman, saying simply, “Mirab. His sails unfurled.”

  SAN FRANCISCO

  For the first time since the mediation had begun, Commander Tom Paris had taken his seat beside Shaw before his mother arrived. When Julia finally entered, Paris immediately understood what had delayed her. She normally wore her gray hair in a roll at the base of her neck. It was convenient and efficient, without being severe. Today she had obviously taken some extra time with her appearance. Her hair was loose, resting in soft curls on her shoulders. It framed her face and softened it. It also made her look younger.

  Ozimat had advised both counsels that he had made his decision the previous evening, too late to convene a session. Paris wondered if Julia was worried her age might bias Ozimat against her and now, too late, was seeking to remedy that.

  Despite all that had passed between them in the last few weeks, Paris was touched by his mother’s appearance. It was easier to see her today as the young woman he remembered, the one he had yet to disappoint.

  Ozimat entered the room just after Julia had taken her seat, and once the pleasantries had been observed, he addressed himself directly to Paris.

  “Commander, I’m not certain, even now, that you fully appreciate the damage you have done by the choices you and your wife have made over the past few years. I do understand that your circumstances were uniquely grave and that, when desperate, people often do unwise things. It surprises me that you seem intent on defending those choices, rather than acknowledging many of the valid points your mother has raised.”

  Paris’s heart rate had increased as soon as the mediator’s eyes had locked with his. His opening remarks had done nothing to calm it.

  “It is also clear to me that you possess a propensity for bending the truth to suit your present needs. I agree with your mother that it would be most unfortunate for this character flaw to be passed by example to your daughter and son.”

  Finally, Ozimat turned to Julia. “Having said that, I have concluded that no cause sufficient to warrant awarding custody of the offspring of Commanders Paris and Torres to Mrs. Paris has been demonstrated by the claimant.”

  A deep breath Paris was unaware he had been holding flew from his gut as he dropped his head into both his hands, relief flooding through him.

  Ozimat continued: “You painted a damning picture of your son and daughter-in-law to me.
On numerous occasions their behavior toward you has bordered on heartless. And while I do find many of their choices irresponsible and somewhat reckless, I give more weight to their motivations than you have. Their primary responsibility toward Miral is to keep her safe. They’ve done that. You have provided no evidence that their daughter has suffered in any way by the choices they made. In fact, to a person, every witness presented who has seen Miral in the last few years has spoken of her as a happy and well-adjusted child. They have also spoken of the care both Commander Paris and his wife display for her.

  “What has become clear to me is that their relationship with their daughter is everything it should be. Their relationship with you, however, leaves a great deal to be desired. I am not attempting to assign the blame for this to either party. I would suggest to you, Mrs. Paris, that when you consider the number of times your son has misled you, you ask yourself if there is anything you have done to warrant this. You speak of your love for him. I do not doubt it is genuine. But, clearly, neither Commander Paris nor his wife feel they can confide in you as you would wish. In part, this has been the result of extreme circumstances; but not entirely. I believe we teach others how they should behave and that, unintentionally, you have taught both of them to trust you only to a point.”

  Turning again to Paris, he went on: “Which is not to say that you are blameless in creating grievous faults in this relationship. Commander, you strike me as a singularly selfish individual, in every respect but one: where your daughter is concerned. Going forward, should you desire to avoid further damaging your relationship with your mother, you are going to have to proceed with greater caution. It is inappropriate for you to expect her to trust and understand your choices when you have given her little cause to do so.

  “It is my fear that the decision reached here might bring an end to your relationship. It is my hope that it will not. The commander and his family will not be stationed in the Delta Quadrant forever. When they return, it would be advisable for all of you to consider spending more time together. Clearly, all of you desire the same thing: that your children and grandchildren know how deeply they are loved. Don’t allow the mistakes of the past to deny them that knowledge.

  “The matter brought before the Federation Family Court by Julia Paris regarding the custody of Miral Paris is now concluded.”

  Ozimat rose from his chair and left the chamber swiftly. Paris had watched Julia’s face as he had pronounced his judgment and seen only shock. Once Ozimat had gone, she remained frozen. Clancy whispered something softly in her ear. She did not appear to hear his words and did not respond to them.

  Shaw pressed a hand on Paris’s shoulder and nodded, clearly pleased. Paris had expected to feel relief and gratitude should the matter be concluded in his favor. He did, to a degree. But beneath them, his stomach churned.

  His mother stared past him, confronting a future he could not bear to imagine. He wondered if she had used this case to postpone facing that future, the one that had begun the moment Owen Paris had been killed in action. Paris had seen her several times after the invasion was over. He’d been preoccupied watching Harry recover from serious injuries sustained at the Azure Nebula and beginning the work of assembling the Full Circle Fleet in Chakotay’s absence, but he had thought his mother was doing well, beginning to come to terms with her grief.

  Now he wasn’t so sure.

  “Mom?” he said softly.

  Without meeting his eyes, Julia Paris rose from the seat opposite him and walked from the chamber with her head held high.

  She had always known how to make an exit.

  Paris’s heart began to burn in his chest. His duty was clear. This matter resolved, he should make all possible haste to collect Doctor Sharak and Seven and get back to the fleet. Last he’d heard, Seven’s condition had not changed, but Sharak and Sam should be back soon. It might be possible to transfer Seven to the Delta Quadrant in stasis. What Commander Briggs could not cure, the Doctor would surely handle with characteristic skill and speed.

  But Paris knew now he could not leave his mother like this. She needed something from him, something he wasn’t sure he could give her, but for the love he felt, he must try.

  “Congratulations, Tom,” Shaw said, pulling him from his thoughts.

  “Thanks for saving me from myself,” Paris said.

  “It wasn’t as hard as I thought it might be. You should get back to your fleet as soon as possible. Your wife shouldn’t wait any longer to hear the good news.”

  Paris nodded. “I know.”

  B’Elanna and Miral and his unborn son needed him. Soon enough they would have his undivided attention.

  Right now his mother needed him. He wasn’t going to fail her again.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  VESTA

  Presider Cin had chosen to attempt to open negotiations with the aliens arrayed near the Gateway from one of the Confederacy’s most imposing vessels, the Fifth Shudka. Though not as large as the Vesta, it was a magnificent ship. Three large rear thruster arrays were spaced evenly along the stern of the multilevel hull configured roughly like an isosceles triangle, though its prow was gently curved. It boasted the Confederacy’s most advanced tactical systems, including a 360-degree weapons array and multiple phase cannons. Eight torpedo tubes were mounted just beneath the bow.

  The Shudka would be a formidable adversary for anyone foolish enough to engage her.

  “We are nearing the end of the Gateway,” Commander Roach, Farkas’s XO, advised.

  Silence had reigned on the bridge during their transit of the stream. Farkas appeared relaxed, her legs crossed and arms resting easy. The admiral suspected that inside she was coiled tight as a spring, but she respected that Farkas’s manner did not betray this to her crew.

  Janeway sat at her right hand, Roach at her left. In addition to the Vesta’s regular alpha shift officers, Counselor Cambridge and Lieutenant Lasren held open stations near the tactical post, one normally reserved for a science specialist and the other for supplemental engineers. Their seats were turned to face the main viewscreen, away from their consoles.

  The moment they emerged into open space, a channel was established between the Vesta and the Shudka. Simultaneously, the Vesta began sending out standard friendship greetings on behalf of the Confederacy and the Federation to all nearby vessels, as well as hailing the largest Skeen ship. No one knew which vessel was technically leading this group, but, when in doubt, that honor usually went with size, so the admiral had opted to start there.

  Janeway had expected hostilities to erupt the minute the Vesta was visible. She was pleased when the Skeen vessel identified itself as the Lightcarrier. A few moments later, the face of its commander, Rigger Meeml, a tall, fleshy humanoid with jet-black skin hanging in loose folds and small silver eyes barely visible beneath an intricately carved copper helmet, appeared on the viewscreen.

  The Vesta was facilitating this exchange, but Janeway had already agreed that Cin alone would address the aliens should they answer Vesta’s hails.

  “Rigger Meeml, I am Isorla Cin, presider of the Confederacy of the Worlds of the First Quadrant. I have come in hopes of opening a dialogue with you and the others who have assembled here. Losses have been suffered on both sides of this conflict. The Confederacy does not know, however, what cause you have to make war on us. Please explain your presence here and help me to understand if there is anything you require of us that we might be able to grant you. It is our intention to end hostilities between our people.”

  “Presider Cin,” Meeml began in a deep bass, “for many years now, my people, the Skeen, have traveled through space, enjoying the unrestricted use of thousands of subspace links.”

  “We call them the streams of the Great River,” Cin interjected.

  “There are many links present in the territory you claim as your own, but you are the only civilization we have encountered that refuses to allow others the opportunity to access them. That position is unacce
ptable. Beyond your space, valuable resources exist that are accessible only by passing through your territory. We have been assured by our Kinara, other species we have joined with, that you will never allow outsiders to utilize your ‘streams.’ Should you continue to hold fast to that position, we will force you to yield.”

  “What you are asking of us is something we rarely grant to those who are not members of our Confederacy,” Cin said. “Fifty-three worlds all connected by the streams fall under our protection, and we would be a weak Confederacy indeed if we could not assure our members of their ongoing security.

  “That said, if you would be willing to present to us data on the streams that would be most useful to you, I would be willing to consider offering you safe passage, either through them, or through other local streams that would not carry you close to our member worlds. There would, of course, be restrictions you would have to observe, and any deviation from proscribed courses would be met with deadly force. But if it is possible for us to end this senseless violence between us, we are willing to explore it.”

  “I must speak with my Kinara,” Meeml said.

  “Of course,” Cin agreed. “As you can see, we are accompanied here today by the Federation Starship Vesta, under the leadership of Vice-Admiral Kathryn Janeway. They are facilitating our conversation through their translation technology. Their home is thousands of light-years away, in the Fourth Quadrant, and they are not official allies of the Confederacy. If you and your Kinara are amenable, I would suggest that you select a diplomatic assembly to meet with me aboard the Vesta. They have been designated a neutral party in these negotiations.”

  “Patience, please, Presider Cin,” Meeml requested.

  The connection with the Lightcarrier was terminated, but Janeway could still speak with Cin.

  “Congratulations, Presider,” Janeway said warmly, once the third channel was closed. “You handled that very well.”

  “That remains to be seen,” Cin said. “But it is a good sign that they were willing to speak with us at all, isn’t it?”