#yanking at janeway tom chakotay even harry and seven!!!!
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Star Trek Voyager: A Fire of Devotion: Part 4 of 4: Hotter Than Hell: Prologue and Chapter One
Apologies this posted this so late. A combination of dangerous heat wave and brutal code is responsible.
Prologue
A solitary Borg drone floats in space. The last surviving drone of a destroyed cube. The last cube destroyed in a war that the Collective forgot even happened, that everyone forgot happened. Through its still functioning visual receptor it sees the dead ship, the one that destroyed its cube before being crippled itself, possibly the only ship of the enemy left in this universe after all the others were destroyed.
The drone holds out hope for a rescue, for a return to the collective, to the many voices speaking as one. It holds out for as long as it can, but no cube, no sphere, no diamond comes. Soon its grip on sanity leaves it, and in the silent vacuum of deep space it mouths the word of the enemy, the word the Borg drones who were massacred and disassembled for spare parts heard over and over again at the height of battle.
Delete.
Delete.
Delete.
Chapter One
Captain Janeway went through the motions of being a Borg drone, every moment tense with the possibility that the Collective would realize that while she and her team could hear them, the Borg did not control them. Very carefully she took note of every detail of the level they were on, fortunate that she and the others had not been separated.
Tom was right, this was a horrible plan, she thought. Fortune favors the bold, but you've got to know the difference between 'bold' and 'moron.’
She pushed aside her doubts, and walked down the corridor, mimicking the movements of the drones around her. She passed Marla Gilmore, who worked on a console, her expression flat. Janeway nodded at her subtly. Gilmore nodded back in acknowledgment. Both women glanced around. There were other drones, closer than Janeway would’ve liked, but hopefully not close enough to hear her whisper.
“Have you seen Vorik or Tuvok?”
“Vorik is at the other end of this corridor working on a subjunction,” Gilmore whispered back. “I haven’t seen Tuvok.”
“Hopefully he’s already en route to the central plexus,” Janeway whispered. Gilmore opened her mouth to reply but the sound of metal footsteps on a metal floor stopped her. A pair of drones walked past. Once they were gone, Janeway looked around to make sure no one could see her tap Gilmore on the shoulder.
“We need to go,” she said. “Now.”
“One moment, Captain,” Gilmore said. “I just need one more second to- ah, there we go.”
An alarm sounded in the distance.
“What did you just do?”
“They were going to find out we weren’t properly assimilated sooner rather than later, so I found a way to create false positives. I do feel bad for the random drones on the lower levels whose day I just ruined though.”
“Good work,” Janeway said. “How long does that buy us?”
“An hour at most,” Gilmore said, standing up and heading towards the central plexus right away. Janeway simply followed her, silently relieved that Gilmore felt guilt for what she had just done. It was all too easy to forget that Borg drones weren’t just victimizers but victims as well. She wouldn’t judge Marla though.
I’ve lost count of how many drones I’ve killed or ordered killed in combat, Janeway thought. If I stopped to think about it… Best that I don’t.
---
“Time?” Chakotay said, wondering if it was good or bad that he wasn’t worried about the away team. Or at least not yet. They’re on a Borg supercube for spirit’s sake, he thought. Shouldn’t I be at least a little nervous?
“Seventeen minutes,” Tom said. “We should’ve heard something by now.”
“Maybe not,” Chakotay said. “It’s a big ship and the away team is going to be on foot, and having to maintain cover. Let’s not panic just yet.”
“Their higher brain functions are stable again,” The Doctor said.
“The cube is changing course,” Harry said. “New heading, 121 mark 6.”
“Tom?” Chakotay said.
“Already matching course and speed,” Tom said.
“Let’s just hope they don’t go into transwarp,” Harry said.
Chakotay did wonder why that hadn’t happened yet. In fact, he still found it a mystery as to why a Class-4 cube would be outside Borg space at all, let alone this far away. He realized he wanted to know that almost as much as he wanted to rescue the people in Unimatrix Zero.
“Do your best to keep up,” Chakotay said to Tom. “Seven’s still in Unimatrix Zero right now. If the virus is released, they’ll be the first to know, so once she comes out again we’ll know for sure.”
---
“Tell your hunters to patrol the northeastern perimeter,” Korok said to a Hirogen as they re-entered the main camp. “More drones were spotted there.”
Seven and Axum watched them pass by before returning to their own conversation.
“Any theories as to why the gap between the most recent attack and the last was so long?” Axum said.
“None,” Seven said. “Were we dealing with anyone other than the Borg I would assume it was an attempt to lull us into a false sense of security.”
“Not very Borg-like at all,” Axum said, “I agree. I imagine if that were the case we’d still be waiting on the next incursion.”
“The last incursion was worse than any of the others,” Seven said. “We may need to train more people how to conjure working mechs with their minds.” She shook her head. “No matter how many times I say it, no matter how many times I see it working…”
“It’s weird, yeah,” Axum said. “Still no reports coming in from anyone remembering this place when they exit their regeneration cycle?”
“Afraid not. The away team should be on the cube by now,” Seven said. “Something must’ve gone wrong.”
“Or maybe they just haven’t reached the central plexus yet, or the virus won’t spread as quickly as we thought.”
“If the latter is the case,” Seven said, “that only means the Collective will have more time to adapt to and resist it.”
“Give it a little more time, Annika,” Axum said, putting a hand on Seven’s shoulder. Seven reflexively flinched and took a step back. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to… I was just trying to be supportive.”
Seven nodded. “I’ll take you at your word and apologize for my reaction. However, I do ask that you refrain from doing it again.”
“Understood,” Axum said sadly.
---
“The central plexus is through here,” Tuvok said to Janeway and Gilmore when they reached him. Janeway gave the signal to wait a moment before moving. She heard footsteps, hoping it would turn out to be Vorik. She allowed herself a very un-Borg like sigh of relief when she saw that it was.
“I apologize for the delay, Captain,” Vorik said.
“No need, Ensign,” Janeway said. “Once we’re inside, we release the virus, and make contact with Voyager. We’ll also need to sabotage as many of the cube’s systems as we can to give them a chance of getting us out of here.”
“Already working on it,” Gilmore said. “Vorik, could you take that other console over there?”
Vorik simply nodded and went to work.
“Alright, Tuvok,” Janeway said. “Let’s do this. There are shield generators there and there, but as drones we should be able to just walk right through.” Janeway let out a small chuckle. “You know, over the years, we’ve had enemies board the ship who could just walk through our force fields. It’ll be nice to be on the giving end of that for a change.”
The two walked through the force field, Janeway feeling a slight tingling sensation as she did so. As she and Tuvok rounded a corner, they stopped suddenly. A lone drone was at the central plexus. Luckily, it hadn’t seen them, its back was turned as it operated a console.
One drone guarding it, and not even watching the entrance? Janeway thought. Suppose the Borg just assumed nobody would ever get this far.
“I will attempt to deactivate him,” Tuvok said quietly, moving as silently as the metal on his feet would allow on the metal floor. The drone either didn’t hear or didn’t perceive Tuvok as a threat until the Vulcan yanked out wires leading into the drone’s skull. He shuddered violently but made very little noise as he fell over, Tuvok catching him before he could hit the ground.
Janeway made a move to the console and immediately began manipulating the controls.
“Damn,” she said after a minute’s work. “I can’t access the plexus without shutting down the power grid in this section. That’s bound to draw some attention.”
“I will check in on Ensign Vorik and Crewman Gilmore’s progress,” Tuvok said. “Perhaps they can find another solution.”
“Do it,” Janeway said, feeling tense. This was already taking longer than she’d hoped. Of course, even succeeding in releasing the virus and giving Unimatrix Zero the chance to hide from the collective permanently was no guarantee that the four of them would make it out alive.
Why do I take on these suicidal missions all the time? She thought. I never thought of myself as someone with a death wish, but…
---
Something wasn’t right, the Borg Queen knew that much, and it was not simply the Unimatrix Zero problem. The fact was, she was aware that the focus on that issue had caused her to miss something. Such a distraction should not have been possible, not for the Collective.
Were embarrassment something the collective could feel, it would be feeling it right now.
“Janeway and the others. I can’t hear them,” the Queen said. “We assimilated them but I can’t hear them. How is this possible?”
She reached her mind into the cube that Captain Janeway had attacked, trying to see the four Starfleet officers that had been taken for the Collective. She looked in the alcoves where the drones they were supposed to be had been assigned. They were not there.
She struggled to keep the expression on her organic face neutral, even though it was not necessary. The drones around here wouldn’t notice. And her concern over the situation was reaching them regardless. So many things had gone wrong. Too many. The existence of Unimatrix Zero, the second failure to assimilate Earth, several cubes and spheres lost over the past few years… and there was something else wasn’t there? Vague memories of the Borg suffering a devastating defeat at the hands of…
The thought exited her consciousness almost as quickly as it came. She redirected her efforts to find Janeway. The tactical cube was the same size as a standard cube, but with less open space due to the additional armor and weaponry. There would be few places to hide, and she had access to thousands of eyes. Each eye or pair of eyes belonged to the drones who would find the Starfleet officers and stop whatever it was they were planning, and learn how they’d managed to remain free of the voice of the Collective.
While she did that, she increased the number of drones to enter Unimatrix Zero once more. She did not know precisely how she was losing so many in there, but eventually, she would overwhelm them. The reality that she was fast approaching the point where the resources expended in finding and shutting down Unimatrix Zero would exceed the effects its existence would have on the Collective managed to elude her.
The virus of the Borg’s enemy was working faster than even its creators had believed it would by this point in time. The Borg Collective was running out of time, and it didn’t even know it.
---
Seven of Nine wondered if she should be worried. Though no one within Unimatrix Zero wanted to admit it, the reality was the Borg should’ve adapted to the techniques and weapons Axum and the others were using to fight back by now. Despite this, the Borg seemed to be using the same tactics as always, the only change being larger numbers of drones. It wasn’t an entirely foolish tactic, as more drones to push back against meant that everyone had to work harder and be more vigilant, but if the Collective kept up this pace, the amount of drones lost finding and disabling this Unimatrix would end up not being worth the cost. While she had no desire to return to the Collective, she had to admit a certain amount of pity. This was not the kind of efficiency that she had been used to; had even briefly wanted to go back to when the Voyager crew had separated her from the Collective.
She said as much to Axum who nodded.
“Yeah,” she said in response. “This degradation you’ve been telling me about must be getting worse at a far faster rate than you thought. Perhaps some event triggered it, caused it to accelerate?”
“A possibility,” Seven said. “Or whomever is responsible for it intended it to be this way and we have simply been the beneficiaries of fortunate timing.”
“You’re that certain that there is an outside force at work here?”
“Yes.”
“I kind of hope you’re wrong, Seven,” Axum said, shaking her head. “I mean, who’s to say that any entity or entities powerful enough to destroy the Borg from within will stop with the Borg?”
Seven had not considered that possibility, and she very much wished that that had remained the case. She was unable to suppress a shiver at this thought.
“Hmm,” Korok said, the Klingon having been so quiet for the past hour that Seven had managed to forget he was there. “A force capable of destroying the Borg is itself not that terrifying. A force that can destroy the Borg, but is patient enough to let it play out over years, on the other hand, that is a thing could give Kahless himself nightmares.”
Seven had no response to that. She looked around at the camp. People were visibly tired, but full of determination. Everyone was helping each other. She really hoped the plan that the Captain had set in motion would come to fruition. These people deserved their freedom, even if it would be a more limited kind than that she had now. Her mind drifted to thoughts of Samantha, Naomi, and Icheb. It had been nearly a full ship’s day since she’d seen them, but she dare not leave now, not before there was a sign, any sign, that Janeway and the others had succeeded.
What is taking them so long? she thought.
---
“Bingo,” Marla Gilmore said. Janeway and Tuvok went to her to ask her what she meant, but Vorik spoke up before they could say it.
“We have bypassed the access codes,” Vorik said. “We can access the central plexus directly.” A loud hissing noise, that of the way to the plexus opening, happened immediately after he said the words, as if to emphasize the point.
“Good work,” Janeway said, heading towards the opening. “Let’s deploy the virus and then see about getting the hell out of here.”
Without warning, the unmistakable sound of alarm klaxons filled the corridor.
“It would appear the Collective has figured out we are not drones,” Tuvok said.
“Everyone inside the plexus,” Janeway shouted. “Seal the entry way behind us.”
“Yes ma’am,” Gilmore said.
All four people quickly made their way in, the heavy door making a painfully loud noise as it closed. Gilmore and Vorik immediately went to the nearest console. Janeway allowed herself a brief moment to be impressed with how well the two worked together before returning her focus to her mission.
“I may not get to go home,” she muttered, “but at least I’ll give the Borg a black-eye on the way out.”
“Captain,” she heard a voice say. It was definitely not one of her people.
The Borg Queen, she thought. So that what she sounds like. She looked at the faces of her crewmates and could tell that they heard the Queen’s voice as well.
“You don’t really think you can win, do you? Whatever it is you think you can do, even if the cube you are on is destroyed, we will adapt. We are many. We are Borg. We cannot be-”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Janeway said. “I’ve heard the spiel before. It would carry more weight if you hadn’t failed to assimilate my homeworld twice. Oh, and of course when you needed my help to beat back Species 8472.“
“Conservation of resources,” the Queen said. “Species 8472 would’ve fallen eventually, regardless. Accepting your assistance was merely the result of a cost-benefit analysis.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” Janeway said, rolling her eyes. “Oh, and let’s not forget the whole ‘you planted Seven on Voyager’ line you tried to pull a few years ago. The mighty Borg collective, reduced to using the ‘I meant to do that’ excuse, like a cat falling off the back of a couch.”
“Enough!” the Borg Queen’s voice shouted, but Janeway kept going as she if she hadn’t heard.
“I mean, did you actually think that would work? Did you expect Seven of Nine to believe that the confluence of events that led to her being part of the crew was all part of a grand plan? I’m not surprised she didn’t go for it. Deception is clearly not something you’re well practiced at.”
“You cannot hide in the central plexus forever, Janeway,” the Borg Queen said. “You will eventually need-”
“And another thing,” Janeway said, noticing that Gilmore was trying very hard to stifle a laugh, “Back when Starfleet first encountered you all those years ago, your drones would disintegrate after being killed. I’ve noticed they don’t do that anymore. Just leaving your technology lying around for anyone to find? Sloppy.”
The Borg Queen was silent. It took Janeway a moment to realize that she hadn’t been rendered speechless, she had simply given up and cut off contact.
“A number of drones are attempting to burn their way through the doors to the plexus,” Vorik said, looking at another console.
“Sounds like you pissed her off, Captain,” Gilmore said.
“That I did,” Janeway said. “And the fact that it worked just goes to show how far the Borg have fallen.”
---
Tom Paris checked the chronometer again. Two and a half hours. That’s how overdue the away team was to report back in. He was nervous, afraid for his crewmates but he had to admit that he was glad B’Elanna had not gone with them.
“Vital signs are still good,” the Doctor said. “Stress levels are a bit elevated but that’s to be expected.”
“I wish there was some way we could pull them out now,” Tom said. “I don’t like how long this is taking.”
“I don’t either,” Chakotay said, “but we stick to the mission, no matter what.”
Tom wished he had Chakotay’s confidence. Or at least his appearance of confidence, he thought. Probably more worried about them than I am.
---
“And, done,” Gilmore said. “Virus deployed.”
“It appears to already be moving rapidly through the Collective, Captain,” Vorik said.
“Good work people,” Janeway said. Now comes the fun part, she thought sardonically, wondering just how they were going to get out of the central plexus and back to Voyager. Or even if it were possible.
“Unfortunately,” Tuvok said, giving voice to Janeway’s concerns, “we are unable to contact Voyager given our current location, and leaving the central plexus would open us to attack by this cube’s drones.”
“Yes,” Janeway said, “but we’re at the heart of this cube. That gives us an advantage. Marla, can you access the cube’s weapons systems from here? Or their shields?”
“I was just about to try,” Gilmore said, “but they’ve already started blocking access to the cube’s systems from in here. They can’t hide it from us, every bit of data has to pass through here to get to the drones, but I can’t do anything with it.”
“Not entirely accurate,” Vorik said, pointing to a green dot on a screen that to Janeway looked indistinguishable to all the other green dots. “In order to maintain control of the drones, the Queen cannot close off this channel. We cannot block it, nor can we redirect it, but we can add to it.”
“But what can- Oh,” Gilmore said. “Of course. We flood the stream with junk data. The drones will be distracted trying to separate the random bits from the Queen’s commands.” Marla manipulated a few controls on the console, then sighed. “The bad news is, we’d need a minimum of a hundred zetabytes worth of useless information to even have a chance for this to work. Where are we going to get that much garbage data?”
“Hang on,” Janeway said, finally recognizing something in the jumble of code she was seeing. “That data stream right there, it seems to be going someplace other than all the others.”
Marla and Vorik quickly got to work on the console. Vorik spoke first.
“That information is being directed towards a cluster of drones from this very cube that have been sent into Unimatrix Zero. Apparently one drone on this vessel has the mutation.”
Janeway exhaled sharply.
“Okay, I have an idea,” she said.
---
I often hear my crewmates joke about writing their memoirs, Seven of Nine thought as she looked at the blinking light coming from the eyepiece of the drone in front of her. Mine would likely be dismissed as exaggeration. I’m seeing it and even I’m not sure I can believe it. There was no doubt in her mind though. The drone that was attacking her was unaware that its lights were sending her a message in an antiquated human form of communication called Morse Code. Captain Janeway had talked about it during a conversation years ago about how she had managed to contact an away team she’d been separated from on a mission during her time as a Lieutenant. If you had told me then that I would find that knowledge useful, I would’ve been very skeptical.
After dispatching the drone, she returned to the camp to tell Axum what she had learned, finding her talking to Korok at the camp’s center. The two were discussing what several people had told them, about coming out of regeneration cycles on whatever ship they were on and still remembering Unimatrix Zero. This confirmed the first part of the message Seven had received.
“The virus has been deployed,” Seven said to Axum and Korok, “but Captain Janeway and her team are still trapped on the cube. They weren’t able to give me all the details given the limitations of the method they communicated with me by, but there is a drone on that ship that has the mutation. We need to find out who it is so we can use them to contact the Captain directly.”
“I assume,” Axum said, “that she has a plan?”
“I think it’s safe to assume that, yes,” Seven said.
Axum took a deep breath and looked around at the hundreds of people, gearing up for the inevitable next drone incursion. “This could take awhile,” she said, sounding reluctant.
“As my wife sometimes says,” Seven said, “nothing worth doing is easy.”
“I hope I’m the drone on that cube,” Korok said, grinning. “A Class-4 cube would be a worthy prize for our resistance.”
“I doubt we’ll be that lucky,” Axum said.
“In the meantime, I need to report to my crew,” Seven said. “I will be back shortly.” Seven closed her eyes, and focused on waking up. She felt the shift from the virtual world back to reality, and stepped forward, only for her legs to feel stiff and not want to cooperate. “Ow,” she said, realizing that she had been inside Unimatrix Zero far longer than was healthy for her. She heard the sounds of metal scraping on metal and looked up to see Samantha, the chair she had gotten out of having made the sound when it had shoved back.
“Annie,” she said, “You okay?”
“Yeah,” Seven said. “Just need to walk it off. Let’s get to the bridge. I need to brief Commander Chakotay on the situation. Just, walk with me so I don’t get a leg cramp and fall over.”
“Of course,” Sam said, putting an arm around Seven’s shoulder, the two of them walking as quickly as Seven dared towards the exit. “How long were you waiting there for me?”
“I promise I only fell asleep once,” Samantha said.
Seven chuckled. “I love you.”
---
“Seven?” Chakotay said when he saw her and Ensign Wildman enter the bridge together, Seven favoring one leg while Samantha held her up. “Are you alright?”
Chakotay saw the Doctor make a move towards them, medical tricorder already in hand.
“I am already better than I was when I came out of Unimatrix Zero,” Seven said. “I stayed in too long, and my legs paid the price for it I’m afraid. But that’s not our priority.”
“I’m sorry I forgot to check in on you,” the Doctor said as he scanned Seven of Nine. “I was so focused on the away team-”
“Apologize later,” Seven said, turning to Chakotay. “Several drones have reported that they retained their memories of Unimatrix Zero after their regeneration cycles ended. I also received a message from the Captain in a rather unorthodox fashion.”
“Unorthodox?” The Doctor said.
“Why didn’t she contact us?” Tom Paris said.
Chakotay thought the answer was obvious, but decided not to give Tom any grief over it. They were all under stress right now. “The central plexus?”
“Correct,” Seven said. “I do not know the exact circumstances, but the away team is trapped in the central plexus of that cube. Axum and the others are working on a way to reach them, but for now at least they are secure.”
“That’s the downside to an impregnable position,” Harry said. “The enemy can’t get in, but you can’t get out.”
“At least they’re alive,” Chakotay said, “and got the virus deployed.”
“So what do we do now?” Tom said.
“Not much we can do,” Chakotay said. “The only reason we even have any hope of getting our people is that cube hasn’t gone into transwarp yet.”
“I’m starting to wonder if it even can,” Harry said. “I’ve gone over its trajectory, using data from the astrometrics lab, and it doesn’t seem to be going anywhere. There’s nothing that I can see the Borg finding of value in that direction for years at even high warp.”
“I imagine we have no intention of tracking them for that long,” Tom said, “even if we could.”
“Let’s hope it won’t come to that,” Chakotay said. “Seven, soon as you can stand comfortably again get back in. Once you have any new information, use your comm badge and stay by your alcove.”
“Yes, sir,” Seven said. With help from Samantha, and with the Doctor following them, Seven headed for the turbolift. Chakotay walked over to Harry’s console.
“Since we probably can’t get answers, I’ll settle for theories,” he said. “Why do you think the cube can’t go to transwarp?”
“Like I said, it doesn’t really seem to be going anywhere in particular.” Harry copied the data he was looking at to one of the screens behind him. “Admittedly I’m not an expert, but based on what Seven’s told us over the years, this doesn’t resemble any kind of Borg patrol pattern either. It’s like when I was a kid and sometimes my uncle would take me out for a drive in his hovercar. He’d tell me to pick a direction, and we’d keep going until we hit something interesting. Or until we reached a coastline, whichever came first.”
“Something tells me the Borg don’t take their top of the line defense ships out for a spin,” Chakotay said.
“Maybe the Degradation has something to do with it,” Harry said.
Chakotay actually laughed. It was the first time he’d done so since the mission had started.
“Yeah,” he said. “That would explain a lot actually. Never thought I’d live to see the day when the Borg were downgraded from existential threat to a nuisance.”
“I’d say they’re still a bit more than a nuisance,” Tom said. “But yeah, seeing a Borg ship these days just doesn’t fill me with dread the way merely thinking about one did just, what, four years ago?”
---
Seven of Nine reentered Unimatrix Zero to an incongruous site. Much of the forest that had represented the place was either smashed or burned, yet around her the people she was seeing looked not just determined but downright optimistic. In the short time she’d been away, the tide must’ve turned severely.
She found Axum, Korok, Lauren, and some of the others standing around a bonfire, laughing.
“Annika!” Axum yelled when she saw her, waving her over to join them.
“Poor girl,” Korok said, “you missed the fun part. The last incursion of drones was an utter disaster. They didn’t get a single one of us, and on top of all that many vanished before we even got to fight them. The virus is clearly working, the Collective is no longer able to find us. We’ve won!”
“Any word on who we have on the Class-4?” Seven asked. As much as she would’ve liked to savour this victory against the Borg, she did still have her crewmates to worry about.
“That would be I,” an alien Seven hadn’t seen in the camp before said. “Quorzom is the name by which I go.”
Seven was actually surprised to see a member of crystalline species she only knew as Species 12 in Unimatrix Zero, but she managed to avoid allowing the surprise to overwhelm her.
“Turns out our shiny friend here,” Korok said, “has been with us all along. He-”
“It,” Quorzum said, sounding offended.
“Sorry. It,” Korok continued. “was the first one here. The first drone with the mutation. Turns out it has just been hiding this whole time. I’d call it a coward, but after what I saw it to do a dozen invading drones with just its hands I’d rather not make it mad. To die in battle with a talking rock is not how I wish to enter Stovokor.”
“That is an expected reaction,” Quorzum said. “Since a return to isolation is what I wish, I will simply tell you that I contacted your fellow bipeds on the Class-4 cube. How matters little though I told your fellows there,” it added, pointing dismissively at Axum and Korok, who simply rolled their eyes. “If you insist on needless details they have them to share. I’m told it is indelicate to leave without saying a trite phrase, so farewell.” Quorzum turned around on legs Seven couldn’t see and strolled away faster than its size would imply it was capable of.
“That was… what just happened?”
“Let it go,” Axum said. “I’ve met antisocial beings before but Species 12 has raised it to an art form.”
“So,” Seven said, wanting to get back on point with the mission, “what does the Captain have in mind?”
“How fast can Voyager upload over a hundred zetabytes of non-valuable information to the cube?” Axum said.
“Speed isn’t an issue for Starfleet computers,” Seven said. “Getting that information onto the cube would be the difficult part. But what would the purpose be for such a thing?”
“To make it easier for your engineers on the ship to take control of key systems from inside the central plexus,” Axum said. “It’s really their only chance to get out of there alive. I know it would be easier and less dangerous to consider them acceptable losses, but the fight against the Borg already has enough martyrs in my opinion.”
“No argument there,” Seven said, nodding. “I’ll speak to the senior staff aboard Voyager. Perhaps we can come with up with a plan to get our people off that cube. What else did Quorzom tell you? What else did Captain Janeway say?”
---
Chakotay sighed. The report Seven gave him and the rest of the remaining senior staff aboard did not seem promising. Gathering up the amount of data needed wouldn’t be easy, as there was not that much data in Voyager’s computer core that the Borg would probably consider useless. At least not as far as he could tell. And even if there was, delivering it to the cube would be next to impossible. With shields and weapons still fully operational, they couldn’t hope to last more than a few seconds against a Class-4 cube.
“Oh, that’s easy,” B’Elanna Torres said, much to Chakotay’s surprise. “One of Starfleet’s abandoned plans to destroy the Borg after Wolf 359 involved a plan similar to this. It was deemed impossible after testing and, well they were right. The basic idea was the same. Overwhelm the Collective’ group mind with useless bits of junk data and all that.”
“No way that could work with the whole Collective,” Harry said. “Not when the Borg use whole planets like computer cores.”
“Well, yeah,” B’Elanna said. “But that’s my point. We’re not trying to destroy the Collective. We’re trying to inconvenience a single cube. That’ll be much easier.”
“Depends on your definition of easy,” Tom said. “I’m not saying you’re wrong, but how would we get it on the cube in the first place? Our best piece of bait was used getting the away team there in the first place.”
Seven of Nine appeared to be staring out the viewport of the briefing room at the streaks of light going past as the ship continued its steady course at warp, waiting for the need to either adjust course or run away, depending on what if anything the cube they were following did next.
“Seven?” Chakotay said, wondering why she seemed so distracted.
“Fluidic space,” she said.
“Come again?” Harry said.
“I believe I can generate a signal from our deflector dish to fool the cube’s sensors into thinking a portal into fluidic space has opened,” Seven said. “Fear that Species 8472 may be attempting another invasion would have to get their attention.”
‘Is that even possible?” Tom said. Seven almost looked insulted.
“Lieutenant, during my first day aboard this vessel I was able to modify the deflector dish to open a genuine rift. Faking one would require considerably less effort.”
“Okay,” Tom said, “you got me there.”
“Let’s say we do this,” Chakotay said. “How does that help our people on the cube? How do we get them the junk data?”
“We don’t need to get it to them directly,” B’Elanna said. “Just get it on the cube. And I have an idea there too. We don’t have enough data stored on this ship to do the deed, I’m sure we were all thinking that.”
“I wasn’t,” Tom said.
Harry raised his hand, and Chakotay nodded. “The thought had occurred to me. What did you have in mind, B’Elanna?”
“Load what junk data, or at least what the Borg would consider junk data, onto a device that, once linked up to a Borg data node, will start copying itself exponentially, like water spilling out of a glass if you pour too much into it. That replicated data will need to go somewhere, and the computers on that cube will have all the free space it could need and then some.”
“Get on that,” Chakotay said. “Seven, B’Elanna, this is your project. Time is of the essence so I’ll trust you to do what needs to be done. Spare me the details, just let me know when we can implement the plan.”
“Yes, sir,” Seven said.
“On it,” B’Elanna said, her and Seven not waiting to be dismissed before leaving the briefing room. Chakotay simply nodded towards everyone else. They took the cue, and left the room to return to their stations on the bridge.
Chakotay muttered a quiet prayer to his gods that this would work, and that Kathryn, Tuvok, and the others would make it home safe and sound.
---
Captain Janeway thought something she never imagined could be possible while sitting in the heart of a Borg cube, surrounded on all sides by drones trying to burn their way to either kill them or assimilate them fully this time.
I am so bored.
“I wish I had your Vulcan patience,” Janeway heard Marla Gilmore say to Vorik, suggesting that she was thinking the same thing the Captain was.
“Meditation would help,” Vorik said. “However, pausing to do so would be inadvisable given our current situation.”
“We could go in shifts,” Tuvok said. “One at a time, so as to minimize the risk of being caught off guard.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Janeway said. “Though really a nice hot cup of tea would be enough for me right now.”
“I’d settle for a good book,” Gilmore said. “Or even a bad one that I could poke fun-”
A beeping noise from the console nearest Gilmore caught her attention. She and Vorik both lept to their feet from their sitting positions to see what was going on.
“Well I’ll be damned,” Gilmore said.
“Fascinating,” Vorik said.
“What is it?” Janeway asked, no longer bored.
“Junk data is clogging up the metaphorical pipes,” Gilmore said. “And it’s replicating itself, making it harder for the Collective to purge it. I actually recognize some of this stuff. Earth music, 20th century mostly.”
Janeway snorted. “Must be Tom Paris’ music collection.”
“How was the Voyager crew able to transmit that data to the cube?” Tuvok asked.
Gilmore and Vorik manipulated the controls some more, stopped, looked at each other, and back at the monitor before looking at each other again.
“The information appears to be accurate,” Vorik said.
“I know,” Gilmore said, “but it doesn’t make any sense.”
“Marla?” Janeway said.
“According to this information,” Vorik said, “the data was retrieved from a damaged Starfleet issue probe that was found near the site of a suspected incursion by Species 8472.”
“Huh,” was all Janeway could say to that. She tried to think of something to say, but after almost a minute finally gave up.
“Okay, this should make things a little easier,” Gilmore said. “And there go the shields. Still can’t communicate with Voyager from in here, but hopefully they’ll get the hint.”
“We should take the weapons off-line first,” Vorik said.
“Oh, right. Silly me,” Gilmore said. “Should’ve done that first.”
“It would appear that our timing is fortuitous,” Tuvok said, pointing to a spot on a nearby bulkhead that was glowing slightly. “Given the amount of time it has taken their efforts to penetrate the central plexus thus far, it is highly likely that by the time they make an opening large enough for a drone to get through, we will already-”
“We’re going to need to get out of here,” Gilmore yelled. “Even with the shields down, Voyager won’t be able to get a lock on us in here.”
“Can you direct the drones somewhere else?” Janeway said.
“I’m trying,” Gilmore said, hitting the console as she spoke and with audible frustration in her voice. “but whatever they cooked up on Voyager worked too well. I can’t do anything to the drones, just to the ship itself.”
“Perhaps,” Vorik said, “if we cause overloads in key places, at least some of the drones will need to vacate the area in order to deal with them.”
“It would have to be somewhere where there aren’t enough drones to deal with it already, so the overload would need to be somewhere close- Oh.”
“Are you-” Vorik said.
“Yes,” Gilmore said.
“That would be incredibly risky given our proximity to-”
“It’s our best option, Vorik.”
“What is our best option?” Janeway said.
“Create an overload in the transwarp drive,” Gilmore said. “The drones would make that top priority no matter what, and the Queen couldn’t stop them, not with the signals all clogged up. We get away no matter what, and if the drones fail, we get an added bonus of a blown up cube.”
“Sounds like a win-win to me, Marla,” Janeway said. “Do it.”
---
“Sir,” Harry said, “the Borg’s engines are going critical!”
“Transporter room one, can you get a lock on the away team?” Chakotay said, suddenly worried.
“I’m trying, sir,” Todd Mulcahey said. “I can’t get through the additional shielding around the central… wait, two lifesigns, no, wait, got ‘em!”
After a few almost unbearable seconds of silence, he heard Captain Janeway’s voice over the open comm.
“We’re back, now get us the hell out of here.”
“Initiating the ‘get the hell out of here’ maneuver,” Tom said.
“Any sign of pursuit?” Chakotay said.
“None,” Harry said. “The cube is at full stop. I imagine they're a little busy trying to keep from exploding.”
“It’s what I would be doing,” B’Elanna said from the auxiliary engineering console on the bridge.
“Good work, people,” Chakotay said, smiling.
---
Seven of Nine took a good long look around at Unimatrix Zero. Already things were wildly different. The people had started making full buildings rather than a camp. A decent size city was rapidly, or at least rapidly when compared to reality, taking shape. The clash of styles made it look less than aesthetically pleasing, but that was irrelevant.
She took in a deep breath, amazed at how real the air smelled here, even though the only actual air she was taking in was the recycled air on board Voyager. She wondered how different the place would look next time she was here, seeing as that was going to be a fair amount of time.
“I hear you’re looking for me?” Axum said, smiling, now wearing a uniform of her own. Seven didn’t recognize it, but assumed it was that of Axum’s own people. “You like it? The military back home wore these. I was never in it myself, but I’ve become something of a soldier lately, that’s for sure. Korok’s busy planning a takeover of the ship he’s on. Might take awhile since he’s the only drone on it with the mutation, but it’s a sphere so his chances are only slightly impossible.”
Seven chuckled at that.
“Tell him I wish him luck,” she said.
Axum frowned. “You’ll be able to tell him yourself the next time he… Oh. You’re not coming back?” Axum looked as though she had been physically wounded.
“I’m not leaving forever,” Seven said, sounding considerably more defensive than she’d intended. “I simply have other matters to attend to. Duties aboard Voyager. Plus, these past few days, I’ve been neglecting my family. They’ve all been very understanding and supportive, but their understanding has unfortunately done little to assuage my guilt.”
“I can understand that,” Axum said. “Guilt seems to be something most sentient races have in common. Do you have any idea on when you’ll be back?”
“I do not know,” Seven admitted.
Axum did not appear to like the answer, but she didn’t say anything in response, merely nodding.
“I wish you well,�� Seven continued. “The fight to save this place is over, but your resistance movement against the Borg has only started. Focus your energy on that, and not on missing me.”
Axum stepped forward. “Maybe, before you go I could get one last-”
“No,” Seven said, certain what the next word was going to be, and had that word been ‘hug’ she might’ve complied. “I do not wish for things to be awkward between us. I love Samantha. What you and I had ended when I was severed from the Collective. It is not your fault, there is nothing you could’ve done. Our lives simply went in different directions.”
“Not unlike your wife and her former husband,” Axum said. “In a way I guess it is comforting to know that this was just happenstance, and had things gone just a little differently we’d still be together.”
Seven didn’t believe Axum meant that, but she did believe that Axum was lying to herself, not to anyone else.
“Your Captain,” Axum said, clearly desperate to change the subject. “How are she and the others doing?”
“The majority of their implants were safe to remove,” Seven said. “Others will require more effort down the lines, and Tuvok will need time to adjust to his new eye and Marla Gilmore to her new hand, but otherwise the away team fared better than they had hoped. Captain Janeway and Ensign Vorik have already returned to duty, albeit reduced duty.”
“Good. Good,” Axum said. “Well, perhaps the next time I see you the others and I will have many great tales of victory against the Borg to regale you with. Who knows, perhaps either you or I will have answers regarding the Degradation.”
“That would be welcome news,” Seven said. “Farewell, Axum.”
“Goodbye, Annika,” Axum said. At that, Seven closed her eyes, focused her thoughts, and opened them again to see Icheb, the other Borg children, and Naomi gathered around a makeshift table where they were all playing a game of kadis-kot.
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Star Trek Voyager: A Fire of Devotion: Part 2 of 4: Louder Than Bells: Chapters Two & Three
[Chapters 2 & 3 are being posted together because of how short Chapter 2 is in the original document]
Chapter Two:
“Hey Seven,” B’Elanna Torres said.
“May I ask why you invited me to your quarters?” Seven said, hands behind her back and standing at attention.
“At ease Seven, this isn’t a formal meeting. I actually had an idea last night. Care to sit down?”
Seven looked at the chair B’Elanna motioned to, then quietly sat down.
“I’ll cut to the chase Seven. Except for Sam and Harry you’ve hardly been talking to anyone since Edwin died. I understand, I pretty much isolated myself for awhile after I heard about what happened to my Maquis friends back home.”
“I remember,” Seven said. “While I appreciate the attempt at empathy, Lieutenant, I do not believe our situations are the same.”
“No, they’re not. And I wouldn’t insult you by suggesting they are. We’ve both suffered loss, but comparing the types of loss is a pointless exercise. I’m just offering you a chance for some cathartic release.”
“If you are proposing what I believe you are, I should inform you that Samantha has been already been helping me in that regard, and I-”
“Oh, no!” B’Elanna said, shaking her head “God no, I’m not, oh why did you have to put that mental image in my head? No, I was just going to ask you to join me in one of my combat simulations on the holodeck.”
“Ah,” Seven said, her cheeks reddening slightly. “In hindsight perhaps I should’ve realized that is what you meant, as you have never shown any signs of a physical attraction to me. I apologize for my error.”
Apologize to the dreams I’m gonna have tonight, B’Elanna thought.
“Well, that little bit of awkward out of the way, the invitation still stands. I already have the interior of a Borg cube as a setting. We could-”
“Actually, Lieutenant,” Seven said. “I believe seeing Borg drones again so soon might cause the very discomfort you are hoping to alleviate. I believe we have some data on the Jem'Hadar, the race responsible for the deaths of your friends?”
“One of them, along with the Cardassians. We don’t really have much data beyond the tiny bit Commander Sisko was able to get about them. Starfleet only had one encounter with them before Voyager got yanked into the Delta Quadrant.”
“It will have to do then. I will meet you on holodeck one at the appropriate time. Thank you for your offer.”
“Okay. See ya then,” B’Elanna said.
---
On her way to the holodeck, Seven almost literally bumped into Naomi Wildman as she walked down the hall, by herself.
“Hi Seven,” Naomi said.
“Hello, Naomi. Might I ask why you are wandering the corridors by yourself again?” Seven said, kneeling down so she could look the child in the eye while they talked.
“No reason. Just out for a walk. Mom’s on the bridge today, and I already finished my lessons for the day.”
Seven knew that Naomi was exceptionally bright, but that she also would often procrastinate when it came to her schoolwork. The lack of an actual school on board probably didn’t help, since it meant that Naomi had to do her lessons in her quarters, where all her toys and books were.
“Are you sure,” Seven said, mimicking the tone that Samantha would take when she would ask that question. Naomi frowned.
“Yes, I’m sure,” she said.
Seven wasn’t entirely sure she believed her, but smiled anyway. “Okay, good. I’m going to be on the holodeck with Lieutenant Torres for awhile, but when I’m done, how about we meet up in astrometrics and I can show you how some of the stellar phenomena we’ve passed lately?”
Naomi smiled at that. Much like a Borg she constantly showed a desire to learn to new things, but unlike a Borg she approached it with an enthusiasm that Seven admired.
“That’s sound awesome. Thanks, Seven,” Naomi said, throwing herself into a hug. Seven hugged back, and tousled Naomi’s hair, again copying Sam.
“Very good. Meet me in the lab at 1230 hours. Have fun.”
---
“Ready?” B’Elanna said as Seven entered the holodeck. Seven looked around, taking in her surroundings.
“This looks like a standard deep space Federation colony,” she said.
“This is Soltok IV. It’s the colony Chakotay and I took off from our last mission before getting caught in the Badlands and taken by the Caretaker. Given its location, it was probably one of the first places to get hit when the Dominion attacked.”
Seven nodded, then said, “What types of weapons shall we be using?”
“Well,” B’Elanna said, pointing to a nearby wall where two weapons were leaned against it. “I didn’t know how much hand-to-hand training you’ve had, if any, so I’ve got a standard issue Starfleet phaser rifle for you, and a Bat'leth for myself. I’ve left the safety protocols on, so I figure between us we can handle about ten or twelve Jem'Hadar.”
Seven picked up the phaser rifle, looked at it, then looked up.
“Computer, increase safety protocols, then increase the number of enemy combatants by 500%.”
B’Elanna’s face must’ve betrayed her shock, because when Seven looked back at her she shrugged, and said “You said this was about catharsis, not about combat training. Wouldn’t an overwhelming victory serve better in that regard than a realistic one?”
“I guess, though if you ask me it’s not much fun if you can’t get hurt.”
“That is a matter of personal preference,” Seven said.
She’s got me there, B’Elanna thought. “Fair enough. Computer, start program.”
---
On the one hand, Sam was glad that Seven and B’Elanna were getting along better. They hadn’t really been metaphorically at each other’s throats since around the time Sam and Seven started dating, and had even been literally so once, but the two seemed to be forming a bond that Samantha didn’t want to discourage, anymore than she wanted to discourage her daughter’s recent interest in medicine.
On the other, it bothered her somewhat that what time Seven and B’Elanna spent together, with the exception of the time spent building the new Delta Flyer, was spent engaging in various battles on the holodeck; some created, some historical. Sam knew full well that it was all holograms, and that if anything Seven’s temperament when she left the holodeck was actually more mellow than when she went in. She just wished that her Borg girlfriend could’ve found a way to deal with the loss of her “son” Edwin and built a rapport with B'Elanna Torres without resorting to violence, even fake violence.
Finally, after several days of internal debate, Sam decided to finally discuss her concerns with Seven, which they did as they sat on the edge of Sam’s bed.
“Very well,” Seven said in a neutral tone. “I will discontinue the combat simulations with Lieutenant Torres.”
“Well,” Sam said, “I don’t want you to feel pressure-”
“To be honest Sam,” Seven said, cutting Sam off by putting a hand on her thigh. “while early on the simulations were a helpful cathartic aide in dealing with my grief, lately it has become more simply just something I do with the Lieutenant every week, much like my games of velocity with the Captain, or the Flotter holonovels with Naomi. Discontinuing the war games would not be a hardship, and I have no desire to make you uncomfortable.” Seven smiled, and Sam sighed.
“Someday,” Sam said. “I’ll remember that I don’t have to sugarcoat things with you. I was worried you’d be upset.”
Seven frowned. “Why would you think that?”
“Humans sometimes, not always but sometimes, can get a little defensive when you challenge their hobbies.”
“I see. Well, I am not wholly human. A fact I am certain you are reminded of everytime you get a hair caught in one of my remaining Borg implants.”
“You don’t need to keep apologizing for that Annie, it happens. Besides, at least it was just my head hair. It would’ve hurt way worse if-”
“Paris to Seven of Nine,” Tom’s voice said, coming out of Seven’s comm badge. “We need you in the shuttle bay. We’re about to do a test run on the Delta Flyer and I want you there for the weapons test since you helped design them.”
“On my way,” Seven said. ���Would you like join us, Sam?”
“Thanks, but no,” Sam said. “Maybe some other time.”
Chapter Three:
Samantha Wildman looked over her shoulder as she heard the turbolift doors open. As she’d suspected might be the case, both Tom Paris and Harry Kim exited still dressed in the outfits they wore when taking part in Tom’s holodeck program, Captain Proton, based on early 20th century science fiction stories.
“Sorry Captain, we didn’t have time to change,” Tom said.
“Understood,” Janeway said. “Long range sensors have picked up something interesting.”
“Concentrated mass of oxygen and hydrogen,” Samantha said. “Lots of animal and plant life.”
“So, a planet?” Tom said sarcastically.
“No,” Janeway said, smiling. “That’s the interesting part. We’re almost in visual range, let’s fire up the viewscreen.”
Everyone on the bridge not already looking in the direction of the main viewscreen did so. A planet-sized globe made entirely of water, no visible land at all.
“Wow,” Tom said. “What’s holding all that water together?”
“I’m detecting a force field,” Harry said from his console. “That’s what’s keeping it from dissipating.”
“Get us in closer,” Janeway said. “I want a good look at this thing.”
As Tom did so, the viewscreen showed three ships coming out of the water, passing through the containment field, and heading towards Voyager.
“Are those starships or submarines?” Tom said.
“I’m going to say, yes,” Samantha said.
“Open a channel Tuvok,” Janeway said. Tuvok nodded, and Janeway began her standard greeting. “This is Captain Kathryn Janeway of the starship Voyager. Please identify yourselves.”
“They are powering weapons,” Tuvok said.
“Shields up, red alert,” Janeway said. The ship shuddered slightly as the first volley hit, but Voyager had been shaken up worse by random nebulas.
“Shields holding, no damage,” Tuvok said.
Samantha actually felt some degree of concern, but not about the battle, but rather about the fact that she didn’t have any concerns about the battle.
Am I getting numb to this stuff? she thought. Normally I’d be nervous as hell right now.
“Should we return fire?” Tuvok said.
“Not yet. Janeway to approaching vessels, we have no hostile intentions.”
There was no response. Janeway shook her head.
“Target the lead ship’s weapons systems,” she said. After a few seconds…
“Direct hit,” Tuvok said.
“And now they’re hailing us,” Harry said. “What a shock.”
“On-screen,” Janeway said.
On the viewscreen appeared an alien wearing a jacket and a hooded undercoat.
“I’m Deputy Consul Burkus of the Monean Maritime Sovereignty. You have violated our space. Withdraw or we’ll resume firing.”
“Consul,” Janeway said “we could’ve destroyed your ship but didn’t. We have no interest in a fight.”
“Then why are you here?”
“My people are explorers. Your ocean planet is frankly one of the most interesting things we’ve come across in some time.”
That hasn’t tried to kill us, Samantha mentally addended to Janeway’s statement.
“We’d like to learn more about it. And your people as well, if you’d be willing.”
“And if we are not?”
“Then we’ll have to leave you alone, as disappointing as that would be.” Janeway was smiling now. She was sure that this was going to go her way and there wouldn’t be a fight. Samantha had a good feeling she was right, but hoped that Tuvok was ready with the phasers just in case.
The Consul looked apprehensive, assuming his facial expressions were as readable as a human’s.
“Your ship is certainly impressive, Captain,” he said.
“We’d be happy to give you a tour,” Janeway said.
“I think that would be most interesting, I’ll give the other ships the order to power down. Please accept my apologies for the misunderstanding.”
Janeway chuckled.
“Consul,” she said “you’ll be shocked to learn that we’ve actually had worse greetings in our travels.”
---
Seven of Nine stood by Sam’s console on the bridge, going over the readings from the ocean planet.
“The Captain and Tuvok went to greet our guests,” Samantha said. “They should be reaching the bridge fairly soon.”
“I imagine the Moneans will have very interesting data on this phenomenon,” Seven said. “I look forward to the chance to observe it more closely.”
“Get in line,” Tom Paris said, still looking at the globe of water on the main viewscreen with some degree of awe. Seven couldn’t entirely blame him. It was certainly as aesthetically pleasing to look at it as it was scientifically fascinating. Had she still been a Borg drone when she’d encountered this, she wouldn’t have been able to truly appreciate it.
“So you never saw anything like this when you were still in the collective?” Sam said.
“No,” Seven said. She thought for a moment then turned to lean against the console so she could look Sam in the face without having to turn her neck at an odd angle. “Would you care to join us if the Captain approves a survey mission.”
Sam shrugged.
“I don’t know. Maybe. There must be some very unique aquatic life down there.”
“And you haven’t taken a ride in the Delta Flyer yet,” Tom said, still eavesdropping on the conversation.
“Mister Paris’ rude interruption aside, he is correct,” Seven said. “Given how likely it is that the Flyer will be used for a variety of missions, it would be ideal for as many crew members to be familiarized with it as possible.”
“Well,” Sam said, “you did help build it. I wouldn’t be a very supportive girlfriend if I didn’t give it a little spin.”
“I am flattered,” Seven said. “but the majority of my contribution was to the weapons systems, which you are unlikely to use.”
Sam opened her mouth to reply to that statement, but the sound of the turbolift doors distracted her. Captain Janeway, followed by one of the Moneans, Tuvok, Neelix, and two other Moneans, one apparently female, exited onto the bridge,
“And this is Voyager’s command center,” she said. “Feel free to have a look around.”
“I’m curious, Consul,” Neelix said, “have your people always lived here?”
“Our ancestors were nomadic,” one of the aliens said, denoting him as the Consul who Neelix was speaking to. “They discovered the waters roughly 300 years ago.”
“I bet they were as stunned as we were,” Tom said.
“Yes,” the Consul said, nodding and smiling. “Mister…?”
“Paris. Tom Paris. I’m the ship’s pilot.”
Janeway began introducing the Consul to the rest of the bridge crew, including Seven and Samantha. Once introductions were out of the way, Consul Burkus, as he’d introduced himself, continued speaking about his ancestors who’d discovered the ocean planet.
“My ancestors realized they could farm sea vegetation, extract oxygen from the ocean for their ships, make a permanent home.”
“What’s your population?” Tom said. Seven raised an eyebrow as that was the exact question she was about to ask.
“More than eighty thousand.”
“And you all live underwater? That’s amazing,” Tom said. Seven was sure this was the most excited she’d seen him since the Delta Flyer had been completed.
“Mister Paris,” Tuvok said. “We do have other business to attend to.”
“Tuvok, escort our guests to the briefing room,” Captain Janeway said. “Care to join us Lieutenant?” she added, having turned to face Tom.
“How could you tell?” Tom said, smiling as headed for the briefing room door behind ahead of the captain who merely chuckled as she shook her head.
“You know,” Sam said in a deadpan tone, “I get the feeling Tom might be intrigued by the water planet.” Seven had learned enough about human humor that she felt she knew how to reply.
“Are you sure?” Seven said, equally deadpan.
---
“Do you still live aboard your ships?” Neelix asked the Consul once the group was in the briefing room. Paris was curious himself, so he listened closely to the answer as he took a seat.
“We’ve built an industrial infrastructure and undersea dwellings but yes,” the Consul said. “Most of our people still choose to live as our ancestors did.”
“Any idea how the ocean came into existence?” Captain Janeway said, leaning against the table as opposed to sitting down. “In my experience, it’s a unique phenomenon.”
The Consul motioned to the other male Monean, this one wearing a red hood as opposed to Burkus’ blue.
“Riga?” Consul Burkus said.
“There are several theories,” the one called Riga said. “Our clerics teach that the ocean was a divine gift from the creators to protect and sustain us. But in my opinion, the most plausible explanation is that the ocean formed naturally, much the same way that a gas giant does.”
Tom noticed that Riga was starting to look slightly nervous, and kept looking at Burkus, as if afraid of what the Consul would think about what he said next.
“Unfortunately, our limited knowledge of the phenomenon has created a few problems.”
“What do you mean?” Janeway asked.
“I’m not sure this is an appropriate topic,” Burkus said. The way he said it raised a red flag for Tom, though what it meant he wasn’t sure yet.
“But, they might be able to help us,” Riga said.
“We’d be willing to help in any way we can,” Janeway said.
“The ocean’s losing containment,” Riga continued. “Hydro-volume has decreased more than seven percent in the last year alone.”
“Any idea what’s causing it?” Tom asked.
“No,” Riga said. ”To make a thorough study we would need to explore the ocean’s center where I believe the gravitational currents are fluctuating.”
“That’s more than six-hundred kilometers deep,” Tom said.
Riga nodded. “Our best research vessel can only go one hundred kilometers deep. beyond that the pressure is just too great.”
“Well we could take you there,” Tom said. He saw the captain giving him a look. “I mean, if the captain gives a go-ahead that is.”
---
Once the Moneans had left, Janeway brought Tom with her to her ready room to discuss the matter.
“I never had you pegged for a sailor Tom,” she said, smirking.
“Well, in a way aren’t we all? What is space but an ocean of stars?” Tom said.
Janeway rolled her eyes.
“Save the poetics for your girlfriend, Tom,” she said, though not with any real annoyance. She did think Tom had a point, even if he presented it in a pretentious fashion.
“When I saw that ocean today, Captain,” Tom said. “I was reminded of the first time I read Jules Verne as a kid.”
“20,000 Leagues Under the Sea?” Janeway said.
“You’ve read it?”
“Once, but it left an impression. Shame nobody really writes stories like that anymore. I guess once humanity actually was traveling the stars, meeting aliens, walking on distant worlds, that kind of tale lost its luster.”
“Not for me, though you probably already knew that since I’m sure you’ve heard of my Captain Proton program.”
“Indeed,” Janeway said. “Coffee?” she added, now standing by the replicator.
“No thanks,” Tom said. He sat down on the long couch up against the viewports. “I was obsessed with stories about the ocean for a while,” he continued. “read all sorts of stories about it.”
“Moby Dick?” Janeway said, now sipping her own cup of coffee.
“Well, yes, though I found that one a little boring to be honest.”
Janeway nodded, but said nothing.
Tom took a deep breath.
And here comes the mission pitch, Janeway thought.
“Captain, I believe that with a few simple thruster modifications to the Delta Flyer, I could make her seaworthy in no time.”
“Good,” Janeway said, sitting down behind her desk. “Because it would take a week to make the necessary modifications to Voyager.”
“So it’s my mission?” Tom said, looking excited.
“Bon voyage,” Janeway said with a nod.
---
“I don’t need you per se,” Tom Paris said to Samantha Wildman as he sat across the table from her and Seven of Nine on the mess hall. “I just thought you might like to come down and see all the new sea life no human has ever seen before.”
“Tempting, Tom, very tempting,” Sam admitted. “But this mission has a specific purpose that’s not really my field. If you were just going down there to look at the sea life, you’d have to have Tuvok drag me out of the Flyer, I haven’t really had the chance to ply my trade since Naomi was born. But I would love to have a look at whatever you pick up on your sensor logs on your way to the core.”
“Okay,” Tom said, “but I think you’re missing out. How about you boatswain?” he added, looking at Seven.
“What?” Seven said.
“Are we ready to shove off?”
“It’s sailor talk sweetie,” Sam said, guiltily feeling amused at Seven’s look of confusion at Tom’s outdated Earth slang. “You’ll probably get used to it.”
“I imagine not,” Seven said. Tom just laughed.
“Well, anyway Seven, meet me, Harry, and the Monean named Riga down in the shuttle bay in an hour. Enjoy your lunch in the meantime. And remember to call me Skipper once we’re seaborne.”
Sam rolled her eyes. “Tom, If I promise to go along on the next Delta Flyer mission will you stop with the nautical lingo?”
“I’ll consider it,” Tom said as he got up and left.
“Should I research this nautical lingo you speak of before I go?” Seven said. “Or can I safely ignore him during the mission?”
“Just have Harry translate it for you,” Sam said. “At least he’s not going to make you dress like a cabin boy.“
Seven frowned slightly.
“I’m not even going to bother asking you to explain that one, as I’m fairly sure I do not wish to know.”
Sam thought about it for a moment.
“Hmm, probably not,” she said. “Though I can certainly think of some period appropriate garb I wouldn’t mind seeing you in.”
Seven smiled. “We can discuss that when I get back from the mission,” she said.
---
Seven of Nine didn’t allow it to show on her face, but she completely empathized with Tom Paris’s awe at the site of the underwater structures the Moneans had built as the Delta Flyer made its way towards the core of the ocean planet.
Sadly they had not seen much in the way of marine life, at least not yet, but Riga had promised that there were species of fish that had been here when their people first arrived centuries ago. Seven kept a lookout, hoping to gather some data for Sam.
“What are those structures?” Tom said to Riga.
“It’s our main oxygen refinery,” Riga said. “and desalination plant.”
Seven ran a quick scan.
“Corrosion resistant alloys, variable-density ballast, an efficient design,” she said, openly impressed.
“We’re very proud of what we’ve built here,” Riga said.
“I can see why,” Tom said.
The Delta Flyer continued deeper and deeper, eventually passing all the Monean structures, but still a ways to go to the core.
“Excuse me, Seven is it?” Riga said.
“That is correct,” Seven said.
“I wonder why it is you’re so interested in sea life. Is that your field of study, or is it more of a hobby? If you don’t mind my asking, that is.”
“I do not,” Seven said, not looking up from her scans. “And the answer is neither. While I am well versed in many branches of science my expertise does not lie in marine biology or xenobiology.”
“Oh. So why the interest in fish?” Riga said, sounding genuinely curious.
“I am in a relationship with Voyager’s chief xenobiologist,” Seven said. “I am hoping to collect data for her, as she prefers not to leave the ship unless absolutely necessary. I convinced her to join me on an away mission once, and I was injured. It was minor, but the last time she was off ship prior to that incident her daughter became gravely ill.”
“Oh dear,” Riga said. “I hope the child survived.”
“She did,” Seven said.
“Good to hear. And I guess I can see where your mate is coming from. I imagine I’d feel the same way. It’s also interesting to learn that humans apparently can procreate with a person of either gender. We’ve never encountered that before.”
“It doesn’t exactly work like that,” Tom said. “But let’s not get into that here. Human sexuality is complicated, to put it mildly.”
“An understandable error,” Seven of Nine said to Riga. It wasn’t an appropriate conversation to have, as Tom said, but she felt no need to make him feel guilty about bringing it up. He was merely curious, as any scientist would be.
“We’re at a depth of five hundred and sixty kilometers,” Tom said. A few seconds later, the hull made a squeaking noise.
“What was that?” Riga said.
“The hull contracting,” Seven said.
“Rerouting additional power to structural integrity,” Harry said. “We’re good.”
“I am detecting multi-phasic energy discharges,” Seven said. “bearing zero-two-one Mark 6 and a range of twelve kilometers. It’s a structure of some sort.”
“At this depth?” Riga said.
“Adjusting course,” Tom said. “Increase forward illumination.”
Seven turned to look. The structure in front of them was old, she could tell that much even without an additional scan. Hexagonal patterns covered it, whatever it was, as did many aquatic plants. Whoever had built this either did not have any automated cleaning systems installed, or they had failed long ago.
“What is it?” Riga said, moving from his seat to stand next to Tom.
“It’s generating massive amounts of artificial gravity,” Harry said. “Looks like it’s some kind of field reactor.”
“If it’s malfunctioning that could explain the loss in hydro-volume,” Riga said.
“Perhaps it can be repaired,” Seven suggested.
“It looks ancient,” Tom said, moving the Delta Flyer closer to the structure.
“If these readings are right,” Harry said, “it’s over a hundred-thousand years old.”
“We’ve no records of any previous inhabitants,” Riga said. “Who were they? Where did they go? Why did they build this?”
“Looks like the reactor is controlled by a core computer,” Harry said. “I’ll try to upload the database, see if that gives us any answers.”
“Do so carefully Mister Kim,” Seven said. “A computer that old, its hardware may not hold up well under the strain of a large scale upload.”
“Initiating the interface,” Tom said, “upload in progress.”
The Flyer suddenly began shaking.
“What’s happening?” Riga said.
“We’ve got a visitor,” Tom said, as the shadow of a massive, black, eel-like creature passed in front of the main viewport.
“What was that?” Riga yelled.
“You live here, you tell us,” Harry said.
“My people have never been this far down before. Whatever this is doesn’t get up to where our structures are, thank goodness.”
Seven turned and saw out the side viewport the creature heading straight towards them, its maw wide open, showing rows of large sharp teeth.
“It would be advisable for us to leave,” Seven said.
“I believe that’s Borg for ‘get us the hell out of here,’” Tom said, “and I couldn’t agree more.” Tom began to turn the ship, in time to avoid going straight into the creature’s mouth, but not enough to avoid getting sideswiped by it. The shuttle shuddered violently.
“The creature is emitting biothermic discharges,” Seven said. The ship shook again, and a console near the rear exploded. “That last charge exceed five hundred thousand volts.”
“Shields are fried,” Harry said.
“I’ve got us turned around, let’s get back to-”
Another impact shook the Delta Flyer, as bad as the last one, but no panels exploded this time.
“Dammit!” Tom yelled. “Thrusters are off-line. Targeting forward phasers.”
“Wait, you can’t kill it!” Riga said.
“I don’t intend to if I can avoid it,” Tom said. “I’m lowering the power. Hopefully we’ll just stun it.”
Another impact.
“How is that upload coming Harry?” Tom said.
“Just a few minutes,” Harry said.
We may not have a few minutes, Seven thought.
“Firing phasers. Just a warning shot,” Tom said. The ship took another hit, and for a moment Seven was concerned that Tom’s actions had only angered the creature, but a glance at her sensors showed that that was not the case.
“The creature is retreating” she said. Tom and Harry breathed a sigh of relief, but before anyone could say anything, an alarm sounded.
“We’ve got a breach!” Harry yelled. The sound of running water soon confirmed that, and it was getting louder.
“I’m on it,” Tom said, heading to the back of the shuttle. Seven could now see the water leaking in through a panel in the Flyer’s ceiling.
Well, Seven thought. This is unfortunate.
“Hand me a laser welder,” Tom said. Seven looked under her console, but couldn’t find one. Harry apparently had the same thought as he handed one to her to pass to Tom, who quickly got to work sealing the leaks. He managed to do so, but not before his uniform got soaked through.
“Nothing like a cold shower to wake up the senses,” Tom said.
“You should warm yourself quickly, Lieutenant,” Seven said. “before hypothermia has a chance to set in.”
“Yeah, thanks Mom,” Tom said dismissively as he returned to the pilot’s seat.
“Structural integrity is weakening,” Harry said. “We’ve lost communications, shields, and the pièce de résistance, propulsion.”
“We can decrease our density by venting plasma,” Seven said. “and by transporting all non-essential equipment off the ship. It will take time, but we will eventually rise to the surface.”
“Not a bad idea Seven, but I think we should stay,” Tom said.
“Stay?” Riga said.
“I’m not about to be scared off by a few damaged systems,” Tom said.
“Were you perhaps struck on the head while repairing the leak, Mister Paris?” Seven said.
“Look,” Tom said, “it’s a pretty good bet that the reactor’s malfunctioning. We’re only gonna get one shot at fixing it. You wanna leave, fine. Give me an environmental suit and you can pick me up after you’ve repaired the Flyer.”
“That is such an idiotic thing to say I really have no comeback sarcastic enough to counter it,” Harry said.
“You have a better idea?” Tom said. Seven shook her head and went to work on her console. Hopefully she could find a solution to the situation while the two supposed friends bickered.
“Well, we’ve managed to interface with the reactor’s computer core,” Harry said. “Maybe we can make the repairs, maybe not. But I’m not leaving you down here alone.”
“I’m scared,” Riga said. “But I’m willing to stay.”
“Seven?” Tom said.
“It would seem I am already outvoted,” she said. “We may as well stay then.”
“Okay, let’s get to work th-”
The ship shuddered one more time.
“Oh come on!” Harry yelled.
“Is that creature back?” Riga said.
“It was a gravimetric discharge,” Seven said. “The reactor’s core is unstable.”
“You’d be unstable too if you were as old this thing,” Tom said.
“Age has nothing to do with it,” Harry said. “The reactor's diverting massive amounts of power to its structural integrity field. Power normally reserved for oceanic containment. This could explain why the containment has been weakening.”
“Makes sense,” Tom said.
“Looks like the density of the water’s been increasing over the past few years,” Harry continued. “It seems the reactor is just trying to keep itself from being crushed.”
“A logical conclusion,” Seven said.
“Can we initiate a power transfer?” Tom said. “That might stabilize the core.”
“It would only be a temporary solution,” Seven said. “But it can be done.”
“Do it,” Tom said. “Then vent the plasma, jettison what we don’t need, and we can go home.”
---
“Have you found something?” Riga said, entering the lab on Voyager where Tom Paris was going over the data obtained on the mission to the ocean planet’s core.
“Yep,” Tom said. “I’ve been studying the generator’s database and you’re not gonna believe this, but apparently your ocean used to be part of a land mass.”
“Astonishing,” Riga said.
“I know right? As far as I can tell it used to be part of a planetary eco-system. One inhabited by a very advanced civilization.”
“What happened to them?” Riga said.
“Good question. All I’ve been able to find out is they launched this reactor,” he touched a button on a console and began playing a simulation for Riga. “into orbit, and used some kind of elaborate kinetic transfer system to draw the water and everything in it up to the reactor.”
Riga stared in wonder at the simulation as it showed a sped up version of what the process most likely looked like.
“Extraordinary,” Riga said. “Why would anyone want to move an entire ocean?”
Tom shrugged. “Some kind of disaster on their planet maybe? Or maybe it was just an experiment.”
“That must’ve been a massive undertaking,” Riga said.
“Took them almost two hundred years by my calculations,” Tom said.
“I wonder what they’d think if they knew we settled here and built another civilization,” Riga said.
“Actually,” Tom said, “I think they’d be pretty concerned. This field reactor they designed, it’s a pretty amazing and durable piece of technology. I don’t think it’s responsible for the loss of containment.” Tom walked over to a desk in the lab and picked up a PADD to hand to Riga.
“But, as soon as we made the recalibration the water stabilized,” Riga said. “I don’t see what else it could be.”
“Riga,” Tom said. “your people’s mining operations are destroying the ocean.”
“Oh,” Riga said, sounding more saddened than shocked, like deep down he’d always suspected this might be the case, but just didn’t want to admit it.
“There’s more you should know,” Tom said. “When I got back, the Captain filled me in on what we missed while we were down there. The rate of water loss is worse than we thought. We’re looking at total dissipation in in less than five years. You may have to consider evacuating if we can’t stop the hydro-volume loss.”
“Oh,” Riga said. It seemed like an underreaction, but he didn’t say anything, figuring that Riga was just in shock, and that the news he’d been given just hadn’t sunk in yet. After a few quiet moments, Riga spoke up again.
“We need to bring this information to Consul Burkus,” he said.
“Agreed,” Tom said. “I haven’t met a lot of them, but I know that good politicians do exist in this galaxy. If he isn’t one, maybe one of your other leaders will be willing to listen.”
---
Captain Janeway sat at the head of the table in the briefing room. She wanted to make it clear to Burkus that this was not the same casual type of meeting that they’d had when he first came aboard. Tom Paris and B’Elanna Torres were with her, while Burkus and Riga and a third Monean sat opposite them.
“The council is very grateful for your help Captain,” Burkus said, after Tom filled him in on the situation. “They’ve asked me to request the shield and thruster schematics for your Delta Flyer. We’re hoping to design a probe that will allow us to monitor the containment generator.”
If I wrote a holonovel with a politician this stereotypical, Janeway thought, he’d be dismissed as too cliched.
She put on a smile that she hope looked genuine.
“Lieutenant Torres will give you everything you need,” she said. She didn’t like Burkus all that much, but there was no point in screwing over his entire race over it.
“I’ve also drawn up some designs for an oxygen replication system,” B’Elanna said, reaching over the table to hand Burkus a PADD. “It’ll allow you to create free oxygen without extricating it from the water. It won’t solve your problems overnight, but it’s a start.” B’Elanna sat back down and smiled. She was proud of how quickly she came up with a solution to the Monean’s problem, and as far as Janeway was concerned B’Elanna had earned that pride. It was a good solution.
“I’m sure it’ll be very helpful,” Burkus said in a tone that made the hairs on the back of Janeway’s neck stand up.
There’s a ‘but’ coming, she thought, I can feel it.
“Our oxygen extraction levels are still dangerously high,” Riga said. If Janeway had been right about that ‘but,’ she would never know because the conversation took a different turn. “I’m going to recommend shutting down refineries four, five, and six.” Riga continued.
“We’ll take it under advisement,” Burkus said quickly, looking very uncomfortable. He stood up. “Well, Captain, I wish you a safe journey.”
“We have a few more suggestions if you’d like to hear them,” Janeway said, resisting the urge to add the word “asshole” at the end of the sentence.
“Please,” Burkus said. “Pass them along to Mister Riga, and he’ll include them in his report.” Riga looked concerned. Janeway glanced to her right and saw Tom Paris with a similar look on his face.
“I’m curious,” Tom said. “who’s going to read that report?”
“It will be given to the subcommittees on life support and agriculture,” Burkus said.
“Forgive me for my bluntness, Consul,” Riga said, “but I don’t think you understand the magnitude of the crisis. What you’re suggesting could take months.”
“Thank you, Mister Riga,” Burkus said, in a tone that suggested he was anything but thankful.
“You should listen to him,” Tom said, standing up. “If you don’t make some serious changes, and soon, that ocean won’t be here much longer.”
Janeway hoped that Burkus would listen, but also hoped that Tom would calm down. The last thing she needed on her hands was an interspecies incident.
“As I said, we understand his concerns,” Burkus said, trying to sound diplomatic.
“Do you?” Tom said.
“Tom?” Janeway said quietly, trying to get her navigator's attention, hoping to calm him down.
“It seems to me like you’re trying to sidestep the issue and just send us on our way,” Tom continued. Janeway took some small relief in the fact that Tom at least wasn’t raising his voice.
“With all due respect,” Burkus said, letting his agitation show now. “who are you to tell us what to do with our ocean?”
“With all due respect, it’s not your ocean,” Tom said forcefully, moving around the table to stand face to face with Burkus, just what Janeway had hoped he wouldn’t do.
“Lieutenant?” she said forcefully, trying to get Tom to back off.
“It’s all right Captain,” Burkus said. “I’d like to respond. But not as a diplomat, as a Monean. You came here claiming you wanted to learn about our way of life, and now having spent three days here you’re suggesting we abandon it. My people have an expression. ‘Brine in the veins.’ Riga, tell him what that means.”
Riga sighed.
“It’s used to describe someone who has special connection to the waters,” he said.
“My family has lived her for ten generations,” Burkus continued. “We protected this ocean. Cultivated it. Lived in harmony with the animals that inhabit it. Can you say the same?”
Damn, he’s good, Janeway thought. If I didn’t already know he was full of shit, I could be convinced to vote for him.
Tom didn’t respond.
“I didn’t think so,” Burkus said. Good day, Captain.” Burkus turned and left, Riga and the other Monean following behind him, leaving Tom standing there. Janeway couldn’t see the look on his face since his back was turned to her, but she could guess.
“We can’t just let this go,” Tom said, turning around.
“What do you want me to do, Tom?” she said. “Just violate the Prime Directive because of one idiot?”
“Well, frankly yes,” Tom said. “I’ve been thinking a lot about the PD lately and it seems to me that what started as a good law has become intractable dogma. It’s not that I want us to just throw it out, that would be wrong and against everything the Federation stands for. But sometimes I think we use it as an excuse to avoid making a hard decision.”
“We?” Janeway said.
“The royal ‘we,’” Tom said. “As in Starfleet as a whole.”
Janeway stood up.
“I know you’re upset Lieutenant, but when you’re in a room with me you check that attitude at the door, understood?”
“Captain, I’m sorry, but-”
“We can’t expect an entire society to change because we think they should. Between you me and B’Elanna I’ve had my doubts about how the Prime Directive has been applied too. Hell, I wonder about how I’ve applied it myself in the past, though I will deny it if you tell anyone I said that.”
Tom looked down, seeming embarrassed.
“I didn’t mean to antagonize you, Captain,” he said.
“You didn’t,” Janeway said. “I’m just being honest with you in ways a Captain normally shouldn’t in the hope that it’ll keep you from doing something stupid.”
“We did what we could, Tom. We gave them the help they asked for. We told them what we know. Now it’s up to them to do what they think is appropriate.”
“You heard that Consul,” Tom said. “they aren’t going to a damn thing.”
“Maybe but that’s their prerogative, Tom. End of discussion. At 1400 hours we will resume a course for the Alpha Quadrant. Is that clear?”
“As a bell,” Tom said. B’Elanna got up from her seat and moved to Tom’s side, putting a hand on his shoulder.
“Come on, Tom,” she said. “I’ll join you on the holodeck for a Captain Proton adventure. Maybe that’ll help take your mind off of this.”
Tom looked sadly out the viewport, where the edge of the ocean planet was visible. Janeway felt sorry for him, but the fact was that unlike some instances she’d run into since taking command of Voyager, the Prime Directive here was clear cut. The Monean leadership had made it clear they did not want any further help from her or her crew.
As Tom and B’Elanna exited the briefing room together, she hoped that the Monean that had gone to the core with Tom, Riga, would find the courage to stand up to his superiors.
---
It was almost 1400 hours, but Seven of Nine had decided to arrive on the bridge early. Normally she did her duties from the astrometrics lab, but Commander Chakotay had decided to add her to the bridge crew for this particular shift. She found his reasons for doing so inadequate, especially the claim of it ‘breaking the monotony’ on the grounds that she was quite comfortable having a fixed routine. In fact, except when she was spending time with Sam during the periods when their off-duty hours coincided, spontaneity held no appeal for her.
She sat down at the station that was normally Sam’s during her bridge rotations, and adjusted the settings on the console to her liking. While she was doing so, an alert noise from Tuvok’s console got her attention. Tuvok summoned Captain Janeway to the bridge. She arrived quickly, the front of her uniform jacket only partially zipped up.
“Captain, there has been an unauthorized launch from the shuttle bay,” Tuvok said.
Tom Paris, Seven thought ruefully.
“The Delta Flyer,” Tuvok continued. “Sensors show another lifeform aboard with Mister Paris. The lifesigns are Monean.”
“Hail them,” Janeway said,
“No response,” Tuvok said.
Seven looked at her console. She felt like she should be doing something during this situation, but wasn’t sure what, and that lack of certainty frustrated her.
“Try a tractor beam,” Chakotay said.
“We’re out of range,” Tuvok said.
We’re being hailed, Captain,” Harry Kim said. “It’s Consul Burkus.”
“Of course it is,” Janeway said as she took her seat. “On screen.”
“Your shuttlecraft has violated our borders. I demand an explanation,” Burkus said.
“Mister Paris is acting without authorization,” Janeway said with frustration punctuating every syllable.
“To what end?” Burkus said.
“Our scanners show that Mister Riga is with him,” Janeway said. “I’m assuming they intend to take some sort of radical action to protect the ocean.”
“Hmm,” Burkus said. “I’m certainly angry, Captain, but I must admit a part of me respects Riga for this. He’s always come across as a coward to me before. But they still must be stopped.”
Seven found Burkus’ description of his subordinate rather hypocritical in light of his own actions after Riga and Lieutenant Paris had presented him with the information regarded to side effects of their oxygen mining.
“I assume you plan to take radical action to stop them, Captain?” Burkus said.
“I do,” Janeway said. She silently signaled for the communication with Burkus to be ended. Once his face was off the screen, she began pushing buttons on the console by the captain's chair.
“Janeway to Paris, return to Voyager immediately,” she said.
“I’m sorry, Captain,” Tom’s voice replied. “I can’t do that.”
“Lieutenant, you are disobeying a direct order. This goes beyond violating the Prime Directive, you and Riga are about to commit an act of terrorism.”
“I know,” Tom said, sounding sad. his short statement was followed by the noise of a com channel being closed.
“He cut us off,” Chakotay said.
“I noticed,” Janeway said. “What the hell are they up to?”
“They appear to be headed for somewhere underneath the industrial complex,” Seven said.
“Can we reach them with phasers?”
“Unadvisable,” Seven said.
“Seven is correct,” Tuvok said. “It would create a hydro-dynamic shockwave.”
“What about an old-fashioned depth charge?” Chakotay said.
“It should be possible to modify a photon torpedo,” Tuvok said.
“Do it,” Janeway said. “Quickly.”
It only took a few moments for Tuvok to complete the task, faster than Seven had anticipated.
“The torpedo is ready,” he said. “However, the Delta Flyer has submerged below our targeting range.”
“Consul Burkus is hailing us again,” Harry said.
Janeway sighed. “On screen,” she said.
“Our refinery workers have been given five minutes to clear the structure. Was this the kind of evacuation you had in mind, Captain?” Burkus said with an accusatory tone. Seven of Nine began to understand why neither the Captain nor Lieutenant Paris liked the man.
“Can you get them out in time? Janeway said.
“Yes, but-”
“Do it. I’ll find a way to protect your refinery. End transmission.”
“Captain, I-” the viewscreen returned to the view of the ocean planet.
“Mister Paris descended to avoid attack,” Tuvok said. “If my calculations are correct he will have to come back up to a depth of two thousand meters to strike his target.”
“Giving us a window of opportunity,” Janeway said.
“Captain,” Harry said. “This is Tom we’re talking about. We’re not going to open fire are we?”
Seven agreed. While she conceded that Mister Paris’ attack had to be stopped, destroying the Delta Flyer seemed like an extreme measure, in addition to being a waste of resources for Voyager as Tom was also the ship’s lone nurse in addition to its pilot.
“As far as I’m concerned,” Janeway said, now directing some of her anger at Lieutenant Kim. “he forfeited his status as a protected member of this crew the second he launched that shuttle.”
“He’s started his ascent,” Chakotay said. “He’ll reach the target in thirty-six seconds.”
“Hail him,” Janeway said. Seven could pick up from the tone of the Captain’s voice that this was the last time she was planning to do this.
“Go ahead,” Harry said.
“Lieutenant Paris, this is your final warning,” Janeway said.
No response.
“Arm the torpedo,” Janeway said.
“Twenty seconds to weapon’s range,” Harry said.
“Stand down Mister Paris. Or I will open fire.”
Should I do something? Seven thought. This doesn’t seem right. Tom Paris is an individual, not a defective drone. She bit her lower lip to keep from speaking up. She wondered if Sam would’ve said something at this point, or would she have just followed orders.
Tuvok began counting down. When he reached “One,” Janeway gave the order to fire.
“The Flyer has been disabled,” Tuvok said a few moments later.
“Their missile?” Janeway said. In all the tension, somehow Seven of Nine had missed the detail that the Delta Flyer had fired a missile at the refinery. That was unacceptable to her. She made a note to speak with the Doctor about it later.
“Deflected,” Tuvok said.
Janeway didn’t say anything. Seven of Nine returned her focus to the console in front of her.
---
Captain Janeway stood facing Tom Paris, with her hands behind her back, her stern glare masking the seething anger she truly felt at what her navigator had done. Two armed guards stood behind him. If they had any feelings about what was happening, they didn’t show it.
“You are guilty of insubordination, unauthorized use of a spacecraft, reckless endangerment, and conduct unbecoming an officer. Do you have anything to say for yourself?”
“Riga needed my help,” Tom said.
“In doing so you disobeyed my direct orders.”
“Yes, Captain,” Tom said.
“You violated the protocols that govern this crew.”
“Yes, Captain.”
“You nearly caused an armed conflict with the Moneans.”Janeway heard her own voice getting louder with each sentence, but she didn’t care. Her anger was justified as far as she was concerned.
“Yes, Captain,” Tom said.
“Frankly, you’re lucky to be standing here right now. I would’ve destroyed your shuttle if necessary.”
If Tom was flustered by that, he didn’t show it. He kept as stoic as he had been throughout the proceedings leading up to this moment. In a twisted, ironic way Janeway was as proud of him right now as she was tempted to keep him in the brig for the rest of the journey home, all sixty-plus years of it.
“Yes, Captain. Permission to speak freely?”
“Granted.”
“Riga’s people weren’t going to listen. They were going to ignore our warnings.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Riga knew, and I was the only one who could help them.”
“I understand your passion,” Janeway said, and she hoped he knew she meant it. “But passion alone doesn’t give you the right to take matters into your own hands. Four years ago, I released you from prison and gave you a fresh start. Until now you’ve been a fine officer. Your service on this ship has been exemplary. I really believed you were past this kind of conduct.”
“Serving under your command has changed me, for the better. But at least this time I broke the rules for a reason, for something I believed in, instead of just trying to piss off my father, or because I was looking for a fight.”
“I admire your principles Tom, but I can’t ignore what you’ve done. Lieutenant Thomas Eugene Paris, I hereby reduce you to the rank of ensign. And I sentence you to thirty days solitary confinement.” Janeway stepped closer to Tom, and removed one of the pips on his collar. “Take Ensign Paris to the brig,” she said to one of the security guards, both of them moved to stand on each side of Tom.
“I know the way,” Tom said, turning and walking out of the captain's ready room, the guards following behind him.
Once the door closed, she let out a long, sad sigh.
---
Seven of Nine wondered briefly why she’d allowed Harry Kim and B’Elanna Torres to talk her into doing what she was about to do, but after taking a calming breath, she walked up to the door to the captain’s ready room, and waited for permission to enter.
“Come in,” the captain said.
“Captain,” Seven said, standing at attention.
“So, how can I help you Seven?”
“I’m here in regards to Mister Paris’ incarceration,” Seven said, deciding it best to get this over with quickly, since she was more than ninety percent certain of this conversation’s outcome. Janeway sighed and put down her coffee and the PADD she was reading.
“Like I’ve already told Harry and B’Elanna I’m not letting him out of the brig. Not until his thirty days are up. So-”
“I am not asking you to do so Captain,” Seven said. Her reluctance to interrupt people was a fairly new trait, one she’d picked up from dating Samantha, but she also knew that if she didn’t get her point across quickly the captain would dismiss her before she even had a chance to start.
“Oh? Then why are you here?”
“I understand that what Lieu- sorry, Ensign Paris did requires some form of consequence. However, I question the value of a month of solitary confinement. Having him in the brig, the demotion, these are all reasonable given this ship’s circumstances. But I feel I should remind you that using solitary confinement as a form of punishment is listed as torture under the Articles of the Federation, and was banned on Earth even before said articles were signed. In fact most member races of the Federation-”
“You’ve made your point Ensign,” Janeway said harshly, her expression flat. It occurred to Seven just then how, even though she’d been given a rank and a uniform months ago, how rarely anyone ever called her by her rank. “I don’t think you understand the severity of what Tom did, Seven. This goes beyond disobeying orders. You’ve done that. Even Tuvok went behind my back once.”
Seven didn’t know what she was referring to, but refrained from asking. She had a feeling she had already pushed the captain’s patience too far already, despite having only been speaking to her for a minute at most.
“He had come so far these past three years,” Janeway continued. “He was acting like a real Starfleet officer. He had stable friendships, he did his job well, often exceeding expectations. Looking at him today you would never know that at one point he was an academy wash-out and a convict with a chip on his shoulder the size of Europa.
“And he risked it all on some foolish crusade that ultimately accomplished nothing. You could stand there and argue that he was just following his conscience. Harry and B’Elanna said the same thing, but it doesn’t matter. He accepted responsibility for his actions, and now he’s paying the price for them.”
“A point which I have never disputed, Captain,” Seven said.
Janeway sighed, and rubbed her face.
“Yeah, you haven’t. I’m arguing with you over a point you didn’t even try to make. Maybe I’m just trying to justify it to myself. Alright, I’ll start allowing some limited visitations on a schedule. Thank youm Seven.”
Seven was more than a little confused. Somehow, she’d gone from failing to make her case to the captain changing her mind without even getting the chance to expand her case. She nearly just flat out asked what had happened to make the captain change her mind so quickly, when Janeway said, “Dismissed.” Seven simply nodded, and left.
Heading towards the turbolift, Lieutenant Kim stopped her and asked how it went.
“It would appear I succeeded,” she told him.
“What does that mean?” Harry asked.
“It means that I convinced her to end the solitary confinement, but I am uncertain how.”
“That doesn’t make much sense.”
“No argument here. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must return to astrometrics.”
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