Star Trek: Voyager - 043 - Acts of Contrition

by Kirsten Beyer

  The Devore vessel immediately closed the channel. Once it had, Cin said, “Our reinforcements will arrive momentarily. This won’t take long, Admiral.”

  Admiral Janeway started to wish her luck when a burst of static spiked over the comm channel.

  “What’s that?” Janeway asked.

  “Out protector has arrived,” Farkas replied. “We are now invisible to the Kinara, but our comm system will remain inoperable until we are released.”

  “Are we on course for the coordinates Cin provided?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can we break free of this protector should the need arise?”

  “Yes, Admiral,” Farkas assured her. “But until we do, we can’t use our warp or slipstream drive.”

  Janeway nodded as she resumed her seat beside Farkas.

  FIFTH SHUDKA

  Before the Manticle had fired the first shot, the Shudka’s viewer shifted to reveal a ring of six ships now positioned around the entrance to the Gateway. A subtle lurch beneath her feet alerted the presider to her flagship’s motion. A faint rattle suggested her ship had taken fire, but it sustained no serious damage. Its speed seemed to increase by the second.

  “Where are we going?” Cin asked.

  “We will observe our enemy’s destruction from a safe distance, Presider. We dare not risk your safety, though your courage in confronting these aliens was most impressive,” Dreeg replied. “A protector has been summoned to reinforce our shields and cloak us.”

  “You assured me that the Shudka could destroy these vessels alone,” Cin retorted.

  “It can, Presider. But in this instance, we will leave that task to . . . ah, there they are now.”

  Cin’s heart stilled in her chest at the sight of a steady stream of CIF battleships emerging from the Gateway. She lost count at twelve. She was distracted by their maneuvers as they were immediately fired upon as they exited the Gateway. Each moved clear, targeted one of the enemy vessels, and engaged them.

  Still, more came.

  Behind her, from a seemingly great distance, the voice of the Shudka’s acting general could be heard coordinating his ship’s maneuvers. The Skeen vessel that was commanded by Rigger Meeml was pursuing them blindly.

  Her attention was focused on her other ships, those that had come to defend her. Angry flares of energy burst from the alien ships, and each one that met the hull of a CIF vessel seemed to simultaneously strike Cin. Her tendrils stiffened behind her and remained taut, tasting the tension around her. The officers appeared confident, but their fear rolled through her in disquieting waves.

  “What’s he doing here?” Dreeg asked softly.

  “Who?” Cin asked.

  “The Twelfth Lamont was ordered to remain in orbit of the First World to secure the remaining Federation ships,” Dreeg replied. “It appears Ranking General Mattings took issue with those orders.”

  The presider would have been hard pressed to pick out the Lamont from the more than fifty ships now maneuvering around one another at close quarters. Forty of them were hers. The aliens had already lost three. A chill crept up Cin’s tendrils.

  “Why would you have ordered the Federation ships secured?” she demanded of Dreeg. “You had no idea until we arrived here that there was any cause to doubt our Federation friends.”

  “The Jroone’s report troubled me deeply.”

  “Bralt is not their prisoner. Irste confirmed that, didn’t he?”

  “He was clearly misled, Presider. Forgive me, but I engage in battles daily on your behalf. Until the truth is known, nothing is beyond the realm of possibility, and it pays to be prepared for the worst to come to pass.”

  “Thus far, Admiral Janeway has kept her word to us.”

  “She obviously did not extend the same courtesy to the Devore,” Dreeg noted.

  “We will have the truth of that from her lips soon enough,” Cin said. “Until then, no harm is to come to any Federation vessel currently located in Confederacy space.”

  “Our space begins at the entrance to the Gateway, Presider.”

  “For the purposes of this engagement, I am claiming this area of engagement for the Confederacy,” Cin said sternly. “No harm is to come to the Vesta here either.”

  “We must see to our own first, Presider.”

  Cin looked again at the battle raging before her. Three more alien ships were gone. “It won’t matter,” she said, relieved. “They have already lost almost half of their complement. This battle is all but over.”

  “May the Source will it,” Dreeg said.

  VESTA

  Captain Regina Farkas watched the unfolding slaughter with a heavy heart. She had little sympathy for those who had challenged the Confederacy, or the CIF, for that matter. But the destruction of any starship was a shocking thing to witness. Resilient and ferocious as they might appear, she was keenly conscious of the fragile life-forms protected by the hulls and armaments. Those weren’t just ships exploding before her eyes. They were sentient beings, each of whom had families, friends, hopes, dreams, lives, until they met with unassailable force and ceased to exist in a brilliant flash of light.

  “It appears the inspector overestimated his Kinara’s abilities,” Cambridge said softly over her shoulder.

  Why Farkas doubted this, she couldn’t say. She wasn’t witnessing a battle so much as a complete rout. Outgunned more than three to one, it seemed insane for the nine vessels remaining, including the Manticle and the Lightcarrier, to continue to hold their ground. Yet they fought on, aware, surely, but apparently insensate of the futility of their efforts.

  “Captain Farkas, Voyager has just emerged from the Gateway,” Jepel reported.

  “Onscreen,” Farkas ordered.

  As soon as she emerged, Voyager executed a sharp dive that took her clear of an incoming Turei vessel. Another CIF vessel quickly made a hole for her and she began to maneuver at full impulse, obviously attempting to move away from the battlefield without engaging the enemies of the Confederacy.

  Janeway looked to Farkas. “We can’t contact them?”

  “Not unless you want to dispatch our protector and join that battle.”

  The Vesta suddenly lurched hard to port.

  “Ensign Hoch?” Farkas demanded of her flight controller.

  “Sensors have just picked up an incoming vessel,” Hoch replied.

  “Time to intercept?”

  “None,” Hoch replied, as one of the largest vessels Farkas had ever seen came into view from beneath the Vesta, on course directly toward the battle.

  A huge torpedo-shaped body containing as many as twenty levels was surrounded like a shawl by an additional construct that began several hundred meters from the prow, flared out, and terminated in an incredibly complicated propulsion array. The hull was made of a greenish-blue metal, softer in appearance and more fluid than many starships.

  The admiral came to her feet the moment the vessel appeared on the viewscreen.

  “Where did she come from?” Farkas demanded.

  “The vessel emerged from a previously undetected transwarp conduit bearing 33 mark 190, Captain,” Kar advised from tactical. “Our database cannot confirm a precise match, but several attributes register as—”

  “The Voth,” Janeway finished for her.

  “Is that a city-ship?” Farkas asked.

  “No, it’s much too small,” Janeway replied. “But its configuration is similar.”

  “It’s three times the size of the Vesta,” Kar noted, “and will be within range of Voyager in two minutes. The remaining CIF forces are adjusting formation to attack. Half their fleet is now moving to engage them.”

  “Voyager is adjusting course as well, Captain,” Roach reported.

  “She’s trying to give them a wide berth,” Farkas said.

  Suddenly, Voyager vanished before Farkas’s eyes.

  VOYAGER

  “The battle has already begun, Captain Chakotay.”

  Chakotay nodded grimly at General Mat
tings. Both Voyager and the Twelfth Lamont were inside the subspace corridor known as the Gateway and would emerge into a maelstrom in less than two minutes.

  “I trust these hostiles will enjoy the same fate as their unfortunate predecessors?” Chakotay asked.

  “If I have anything to say about it,” Mattings said, his teeth protruding in the Leodt version of a smirk. “I’ll know more once we reach the other side. Preliminary reports indicate fifteen vessels against my forty. Set course away from the battle. Your Vesta should be doing the same. Find her and keep yourselves safe. I’ll be in touch. Lamont out.”

  “Assuming the Vesta is not engaged, follow the general’s orders,” Chakotay said. To his flight controller, he added, “Gwyn, choose your course wisely. I don’t want to get dragged into this.”

  “Aye, Captain,” Gwyn said.

  “Waters,” Kim advised, “your sensors are about to be overloaded. Prioritize reception of any Federation signals. We need to find the Vesta quickly, and that’s going to be hard to do with fifty-five other ships out there and all hell breaking loose.”

  “Aubrey,” Chakotay ordered his current tactical officer, “if we have no choice but to open fire to clear a path, I’ll understand, but do not return fire unless I give you leave.”

  “Aye, Captain,” the young lieutenant replied.

  As battles went, this one should be easy. It wasn’t Voyager’s fight. All she had to do was stay in one piece until the massively outnumbered alien hostiles learned the hard way why one did not pick fights with the CIF. But the general’s actions gave him pause. What did he know right now that Chakotay didn’t? Why did he assume that the Vesta was in danger?

  “We’re about to clear the Gateway, sir,” Waters reported.

  “Just stay focused on your respective responsibilities. This is going to be over before we know it,” Chakotay said.

  Seconds later, the swirling orange tunnel that had carried them ten thousand light-years from the First World dispersed, and the main viewscreen displayed absolute chaos. Gwyn adjusted course with practiced ease, avoiding an incoming CIF vessel that was attacking a small Turei ship. Weapons fire skimmed their shields, a soft roar of thunder.

  “No damage to shields,” Waters reported.

  “Where’s the Vesta?” Chakotay asked.

  Waters remained silent.

  Gwyn executed a sharp dive, rolling the ship between three other CIF vessels forming up for an attack run. Chakotay held fast to his armrests as his stomach momentarily revolted. The good news was that they were moving steadily away from the area of heaviest engagement.

  “Aubrey, report,” Chakotay ordered.

  “Five hostile vessels have been destroyed. Make that six, sir,” he added. “Three CIF ships have broken off, damaged but still intact. The others are continuing their attacks.”

  “The aliens have lost one third of their force in a matter of minutes,” Kim said softly. “They have to retreat soon.”

  “Any sign of the Vesta yet?” Chakotay asked again.

  “None, sir,” Waters reported. “They’re not engaged, but they’re nowhere nearby either.”

  Chakotay turned to Kim. “Where are they?” he asked.

  “Commander Glenn indicated that if things did not go well, the admiral intended to take the Vesta to our prearranged rendezvous coordinates. From the looks of it, things did not go well. Maybe they’re already gone.”

  “Any trace of gravimetric distortions suggesting the activation of their slipstream drive?” Chakotay asked.

  “None, sir,” Waters replied. “But this area is lousy with highly charged particles right now that could be masking the distortions.”

  Chakotay’s jaw clenched.

  “Captain, we have incoming,” Aubrey advised.

  Turning his attention back to the main viewscreen, Chakotay watched as a familiar shape shot from a subspace aperture. Altering course at once, the vessel moved directly into Voyager’s path.

  “Is that . . . ?” Kim began.

  “The Voth,” Chakotay confirmed.

  “What are they doing here?” Kim asked.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Chakotay said. “Helm, evasive maneuvers.”

  “Aye, sir,” Gwyn said.

  “Sir, the Lamont has transmitted a message: Per General Mattings, ‘Help is on the way.’ ”

  “Confirmed,” Aubrey reported. “CIF vessels altering course to engage the Voth ship. A protector . . .” he began.

  But he didn’t need to finish that sentence. A gentle hum settled over the bridge, alerting Chakotay to the arrival of a protector, likely intended to fortify his ship’s defenses.

  “Mattings is serious about keeping us safe,” Kim noted.

  “Do we still have helm control?” Chakotay asked.

  “Yes, sir,” Gwyn reported. “Helm responding.”

  The Voth ship continued on its previous course, ignoring Voyager.

  “Maintain course and speed, but show me the battle,” Chakotay ordered.

  “Why are the Voth just ignoring us?” Kim asked.

  “Would you prefer they didn’t?” Chakotay asked.

  “Not at all,” Kim said. “I just . . .”

  “The harmonics of this protector are unique, sir,” Waters reported. “More like the old sentries.”

  “They’ve cloaked us,” Kim realized.

  “I’m less worried about us right now,” Chakotay said. “Look.”

  The Voth ship had opened fire. In addition to its powerful weapons, which seemed capable of disabling some of the smaller CIF vessels’ shields with a single shot, dozens of recessed phaser cannons had emerged all over the ship’s massive hull and were targeting multiple CIF vessels simultaneously. As Chakotay watched, what had been forty ships became thirty-two in less than two minutes.

  “Captain,” Gwyn said, “I’ve lost the helm.”

  “The protector?” Chakotay asked.

  “We’re slowing,” Gwyn advised. “Coming to all stop.”

  Why? Chakotay wondered.

  His question was answered a few moments later when Waters said, “Sir, the Vesta is hailing us.”

  Chakotay had rarely been so relieved to give an order. “Onscreen,” he said.

  VESTA

  Admiral Janeway’s relief at seeing Captain Chakotay’s face was mitigated by the constant reports now streaming in indicating that the tide of battle had definitively turned.

  “Good to see you, Vesta,” Chakotay said. “Why are our comm systems suddenly working?”

  “The two protectors surrounding us have merged, making our contact possible,” Farkas said. “It’s a standard tactic employed by the CIF during recon missions.”

  “Okay,” Chakotay said, nodding. “Did you have any idea the Voth were coming?” he asked.

  “No,” Janeway replied. “We assumed until now that their attacks on our subspace relays were an isolated act of aggression.”

  “Well, unlikely alliances appear to be all the rage in the Delta Quadrant these days, don’t they?” Chakotay asked.

  “There’s more to it than that,” Janeway said. “Presider Cin spoke with the forces here. They call themselves Kinara, a Skeen word for ‘allies.’ They indicated that they were willing to forgo further hostilities if an agreement could be reached allowing them passage through Confederacy space utilizing some of their streams. Apparently there are resources beyond the Confederacy that these aliens have some interest in.”

  “What resources?” Chakotay asked.

  “They didn’t say,” Janeway replied.

  “Four additional CIF vessels have been destroyed, Captain,” Roach reported.

  “How many do they have left now?” Farkas asked.

  “Nineteen,” Roach replied, “against the Kinara’s ten.”

  “I think we have to count that Voth ship as at least three or four,” Farkas suggested.

  “Make that twenty CIF vessels, Captain,” Roach corrected himself. “The Fifth Shudka has shed its protector and is mo
ving to engage.”

  “The presider is on that ship,” Janeway said softly, struck by both the courage and the likely futility of the choice Cin had just made.

  “If the CIF falls here, what happens?” Chakotay asked.

  “Presumably they have more ships waiting on the other side of the Gateway, should the Kinara breach it,” Janeway said.

  “I don’t think so, Admiral,” Farkas said. “Ten of the CIF vessels have broken off and are now headed toward the Gateway.”

  “Retreating?” Janeway asked. “Are they moving to cover the Shudka?”

  “There’s a back door to the Confederacy not far from here,” Farkas said. “It’s a much longer trip to the First World. That’s how the Hadden and the Vesta were able to recon the area without using the Gateway. If they were trying to protect the Shudka, they’d just send her home that way. I think they need the Shudka’s firepower.”

  “Why?”

  “General Deonil said that should it appear enemy forces were about to breach the Gateway, the CIF would destroy it.”

  “If they do that, every CIF ship out here will be lost,” Janeway said.

  “I would think so,” Farkas said. “But the CIF wouldn’t want to run the risk of leading these guys into their territory through the other nearest streams, which are a few light-years away. The Kinara don’t seem to know about them yet.”

  “Admiral?” Chakotay asked, clearly sensing her thoughts.

  “Presider Cin came out here at my suggestion,” she said simply. “She might have been able to reach a bloodless settlement had it not been for our presence here.”

  “What does that mean?” Chakotay asked.

  “Two additional CIF ships destroyed,” Roach reported. “The Kinara are adjusting their formations to protect the Gateway. The Shudka has taken fire from the Voth ship.”

  “Damage?” Janeway asked.

  “Minimal, so far,” Roach replied.

  “It means we’re going to help them,” Janeway finally said. “Captains, vent tetryon plasma and disperse our protectors. Concentrate your attacks on the Voth ship. Every technology at our disposal is fair game. If we live through this, there will be no more secrets between us and the Confederacy.”

  “Aye, Admiral,” Farkas said.