As always, this episode would not have been possible without the co-operation of the entire Staff of Voyager's Virtual Season 7.5. A heartfelt thank you to each and every one of them.
BEST LAID PLANS
By Rocky, CyberMum and the VS7.5 staff
*1*
Starfleet Headquarters, San Francisco January 10, 2381 Stardate 57027.6
Janeway strode quickly through the corridors of Starfleet Headquarters, nodding to the people she passed, but her mind was not on her surroundings. Admiral Hayes had ordered her to report to his office as soon as possible. He had given no reason; Janeway had spent her time in transit from Utopia Planitia speculating, but had been unable to come up with any explanation.
The aide in the outer office rose as she entered. "You're to go in right away, Captain."
"Thank you, Lieutenant," Janeway said. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the presence of additional security officers. Something was up--but what?
The inner door opened. Hayes was speaking to someone seated in the corner of his office, "--the fact is, we don't know how much we can accept at face value--ah, Captain Janeway, you made very good time in getting over here."
"Fortunately, I was able to catch an outbound shuttle within ten minutes of your call, Admiral," Janeway said. At that moment, Hayes' visitor shifted his chair and she gasped in surprise.
It was Tuvok.
Before she could recover, however, Hayes said, "I'm sure you're wondering why you've been called in on such short notice, Captain."
With an effort, Janeway turned her attention back to the Commander-in-Chief. "Yes, sir, I am." She paused, "I presume this concerns Voyager?"
The new ship's mission--a return to the Delta Quadrant, specifically the planet of the Boirii or "37's"--was imminent; they were scheduled to launch in less than a month. Janeway wondered if Hayes was going to announce another postponement. There had recently been some last minute glitches in the new transwarp drive, but B'Elanna had been confident those would soon be resolved. But even if there was going to be another delay, why would Hayes feel it necessary to tell her in person? Suddenly, the answer hit her--Hayes was going to cancel the mission altogether.
Some of her apprehension must have shown in her expression, because Hayes smiled and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "That's a fair assumption on your part, Captain, that this matter involves your ship. But it's a little more complicated than that." Hayes exchanged glances with a still silent Tuvok. "I called you here today to inform you that, in light of some information that has recently been brought to my attention, the mission parameters have changed." He turned to Tuvok. "Why don't you tell Captain Janeway what's been going on?"
Tuvok rose and moved to the front of the room. For the first time, Janeway noticed he was wearing a Starfleet uniform.
"Over the past several months I have been in telepathic contact with Kes," Tuvok said without any preamble. "With the help of certain...others," Tuvok glanced at Hayes who appeared about to say something, "this has since been supplemented with actual communication via the Pathfinder project."
Janeway knew quite well Kes's mental powers were formidable, at this point even greater than Tuvok's own. "Was there a particular reason she contacted you to begin with?" Janeway asked.
"As you have correctly surmised, Captain, it was indeed Kes who initiated this communication. After our last contact with Kes, during the sixth year of our journey, she returned to the Ocampan homeworld and was warmly welcomed by her people, despite their steadily worsening circumstances. The Caretaker did the best he could to provide for the Ocampa prior to his death. However, they have now reached the point where they must relocate to a different world. They are running short of resources, as well as available living space in the underground caverns. For a number of reasons which will become clear shortly, they have requested the Federation's help."
It was not surprising the Ocampa could no longer remain on their planet, Janeway reflected. She remembered all too vividly the barren wasteland that was the Ocampa surface. "Do the Ocampa have some specific destination in mind?" she asked.
"After much effort and time Kes has found a suitable planet," Tuvok said.
"There aren't exactly numerous uninhabited or unclaimed worlds that are suitable, particularly in that region," Janeway said, leaning forward in her seat. She had a sudden insight. "Is it the Boirii planet?" She recalled how the Humans there had offered the original Voyager's crew the opportunity to settle down. And this must be how the new ship was involved. The more she thought about it now, the more sense it made.
Tuvok's eyes met hers. "It is the planet you know as New Earth."
Janeway sat back, stunned. Numerous images and memories of her time on that planet--with Chakotay, for what they had thought would be the rest of their lives--rushed through her mind. Aloud, she said quietly, "That planet is claimed by the Vidiians."
"Yes, it is," Tuvok said. "However, Kes has secured permission from the Vidiian Sodality to set up a colony there. "
"At what price?" Janeway exclaimed, looking from Tuvok to Hayes in consternation. "I don't need to remind you what the Vidiians are capab--"
"The Phage is cured, Captain," Tuovk interrupted. "We were notified of this fact by the group known as the Think Tank while we were still in the Delta Quadrant. And now there is independent confirmation from Denara Pel. The Vidiians are no longer a threat in that respect."
The name of Denara Pel brought Janeway up short. Forcing her mind away from images of another Voyager being overrun by Vidiian organ harvesters, Janeway said, "So what is Voyager's intended role in all this is? Transport Kes and her people to the planet? One million Ocampa--just a rough estimate, for all we know their population is much greater--would take years for a single ship to move."
"We are not talking about transporting the population, but maintaining a protective presence and rendering general forms of assistance," Hayes said, speaking for the first time in several minutes. He had seemed content to let Tuvok lead the discussion, but clearly felt it was time to step in now. "The Ocampa will move on their own and Voyager II will help them in setting up defenses, weather grids, power generators, that sort of thing."
"I see," Janeway said slowly. "And what about our original mission, sir?"
Hayes walked over to the window and gazed out at the bleak January day, then swung around to face her once again. "That will still happen, Captain. But you would eventually have to deal with the Vidiians anyway once you arrive in that region of space--as well as with the other native species. This joint request by the Ocampa and Vidiians provides a good opening. Starfleet is being asked to come, invited by one of the major players. We won't be perceived as interlopers."
At least not right away, Janeway thought, but did not say it out loud.
"Of course," Hayes said briskly, "As I was saying to Commander Tuvok right before you got here, we don't know if we can entirely take things at face value, that the situation is precisely as it's been presented so far. We have established a communication link and spoken to some Vidiian officials, the Sodality I believe they call themselves, as well as one or two of their ranking industrialists. They're eager for us to come, Captain--as eager as the Ocampa are. They have some problems of their own we may be able to help with, and have already mentioned the possibility of an exchange of technology and information."
Janeway nodded. All of Hayes' arguments made sense. Even with her private misgivings about the Vidiians, she had to admit that this opportunity could not be passed up.
"Although their motives appear to be pure," Hayes said with only a trace of irony in his voice, "we've decided that it would not be prudent to have you going back there alone. I'm sending a second ship with you--the Odyssey. Like Voyager II, it's a Columbia class vessel, to be outfitted with the new transwarp drive. It's a few months behind your ship in terms of construction."
"Who will be in command of the Odyssey, sir?" Janeway asked.
"You will be in charge of the overall mission, Captain," Hayes said immediately, answering her unspoken question. "Captain Geordi La Forge will be in command of the Odyssey. He's an excellent officer. Although he's never held a field command before, he's headed up a variety of research teams, plus garnered immeasurable experience serving on Picard's senior staff for nearly fifteen years before that. He's someone who's intelligent and can think on his feet. He should do quite well." Hayes smiled. "We will also make sure he has experienced personnel on his staff who are familiar with the Delta Quadrant."
Hayes paused a moment to let his last statement sink in. "As you guessed at the beginning of this meeting, the launch date for the mission has been pushed back again. Instead of February, it'll likely be some time in June, as the Odyssey needs additional time to get ready. In the meantime, we're going to collect every scrap of information we can about the regional politics. Ambassador Neelix is already giving us the name of numerous contacts. You can be damned sure we're not going to take anything for granted that we can't verify for ourselves."
"A wise choice, Admiral," Tuvok said.
"Like you, Kathryn, I don't care for surprises, especially of the unpleasant variety," Hayes said. "Dismissed."
As the door closed behind them, Janeway turned to Tuvok. "Would you like to get a cup of coffee and catch up a bit?"
"That would be agreeable," Tuvok said. "It has been a long time since we have had the opportunity to speak."
"I've been very busy with preparations for the mission, spending most of my time at Utopia Planitia these days," she said as they walked to the turbolift. "But I wasn't even aware you were on Earth."
"I would have contacted you earlier, Captain," Tuvok said somewhat apologetically, "but due to the sensitive nature of my recent activities--"
"It's all right, Tuvok," she said at once, pushing down her irritation at being kept out of the loop for so long on a matter that had direct bearing on her ship and mission. "You're right, I would have asked what you were doing here and you would not have been able to answer."
They made small talk on their way across Starfleet grounds--having mutually decided to pass up the Starfleet commissary in favor of a 'decent' cup of coffee--with Janeway doing most of the talking, bringing Tuvok up to date on Chakotay's recent projects at the university.
It wasn't until they were seated at a table in the Night Owl that Janeway broached the subject that was on her mind. "The fact that you're in uniform, Tuvok--are you back in Starfleet?" She tried to keep the hopeful note out of her voice.
He did not answer directly. "I have been serving in an advisory role to members of Starfleet regarding the Vidiians and in assisting them to set up their half of the communication device."
Janeway swallowed her disappointment. She knew what answer she wanted to hear from him. "And you were in telepathic communication with Kes."
"Yes, as difficult as that may be for some to believe." Tuvok elaborated on his initial contacts with Kes, how at first all he had was the vague sense of a Presence, and it was only later, through the intervention of the Fluidians--the aliens she knew as Species 8472--that they were able to communicate on a much higher level.
Janeway listened to his recital, shaking her head slightly at the thought of dealing with yet another group of aliens with whom Voyager had had hostile--or less than friendly, at any rate--encounters in the past. But in all honesty, what else had she expected? She knew quite well that a return to the Delta Quadrant was going to be challenging. There was no such thing as a dull moment in Starfleet, regardless of where you served.
She signaled to the waitress to refill their cups. "Enough talk about Starfleet and the mission for now," she said firmly. "I want you to tell me about Kes - how she's doing." She smiled. "It will be good to see her again."
*2*
Starfleet Headquarters, Meeting of the General Staff, January 24, 2381 Stardate 57064 - 066
The noise level in the chamber was deafening; so much for the belief that a meeting of the Starfleet General Staff was always conducted in a decorous fashion. Janeway exchanged glances with Geordi La Forge. Of the twenty people present, the two of them were the only individuals with a rank lower than Admiral. And the only two who weren't currently expressing their opinions at the top of their lungs (or gills).
Despite the seriousness of the situation, Janeway had to stifle a grin as La Forge rolled his eyes and whispered, "Now I know why Captain Picard has resisted being promoted for so long!"
"I certainly would go insane if I had to deal with this group on a regular basis," Janeway agreed. She looked around at the room; to her left, Leon Toddman, the Head of Starfleet Security, was berating Owen Paris about procedure. At her immediate left, William Ross was arguing with Norman Blanc. She was glad she couldn't make out more than a few distinct phrases from that particular 'conversation.'
"Gives you a greater appreciation for how tough it is to be Commander-in-Chief," La Forge said. "It's not just Admiral Cobum who's unhappy, though I think most of the others were all right until Hayes brought up the plans for the colony." He shifted slightly in his seat. "I'm still not quite sure what I'm doing at this meeting."
"You're the captain of the Odyssey--" Janeway began.
"But I haven't got your level of expertise regarding the Delta Quadrant--yet," La Forge said with a wry smile. "I don't have much that's useful to contribute to this discussion."
"Neither do I," Janeway muttered, more to herself than to him.
"Order! I will have order!" Hayes said loudly from the front of the room, tapping once more on the podium with his gavel. That ceremonial object was certainly seeing a lot more use today than was usual. Gradually the Admirals quieted down.
Hayes addressed the red-faced Bart Cobum. "Let me repeat, no 'secret deals' were reached--with any Delta Quadrant species. The Federation President's office was contacted as soon as Commander Tuvok brought the matter to our attention. I assure you that the civilian diplomatic corps has been involved from the outset. As far as other Starfleet personnel were concerned, the information was strictly on a 'need to know' basis. The General Staff has now been briefed as to the full extent of the situation with Vidiia, as well as the Ocampa. I promise you, nothing is being concealed."
Admiral Cobum sank back into his seat, apparently mollified--at least for the moment--but another voice rang out.
"The initial reports we received from the first Voyager regarding that particular region of the Delta Quadrant sounded bad enough," said Cal Bullock. He was a dramatic speaker, with a commanding manner and crisp diction. "I still marvel that our people survived to make it back home, but they were highly trained Starfleet officers. And now we hear the situation has apparently deteriorated even more. It's one thing to send Starfleet vessels into the fray. But I cannot believe you are seriously considering putting a group of civilians in the midst of those troubles!"
"Not all of the Voyager crew were Starfleet," Alynna Nechayev observed dryly. "Fully one third of them were Maquis."
Bullock waved her words away. "The Maquis weren't exactly strangers to adversarial conditions, either. But the idea of planting a Federation colony--including civilians and children--in the Delta Quadrant is preposterous!"
Admiral T'Lara, a tall Vulcan woman, said, "Stripped of its excessive emotional content, Admiral Bullock's point is indeed valid. I fail to see the logic behind this proposal."
"Aiding the Ocampa is one thing," Toddman agreed. "But it is premature to speak of establishing a colony of our own people on the same planet, leaving them open to attack."
Gelb cocked his head to one side, his gill slits twitching slightly, his epidural scales glittering as they caught the light. "The Federation could establish a diplomatic embassy in the region, p-p-perhaps," the Nereid said in a conciliatory tone. "B-b-but not a colony." The other admirals murmured in agreement.
Ross exchanged glances with Hayes before speaking. "Establishing a Federation colony in the Delta Quadrant sends a message that the Federation is interested and involved for the long haul, not just darting in, imposing our will on the region and then vanishing again."
"It sends a message, all right," Blanc said sourly. "The Romulans will jump all over this, claiming this reveals the truth about Federation 'expansionist' ambitions in the Delta Quadrant. Just as they have already complained about the new deep space station we established last year in the Gamma Quadrant."
Nechayev pursed her lips in disapproval. "Let them complain if they wish. They can establish their own posts in the Delta Quadrant--as they have on half a dozen worlds in the Gamma Quadrant."
Rachel Teller, the oldest person present, raised her eyebrows questioningly. "The Gamma Quadrant is readily accessible via the Bajoran wormhole, but practical travel to the Delta Quadrant requires transwarp--which only Starfleet has," she pointed out.
"Are you going to then make this technology available to the Romulans?" Toddman said immediately. "Really, I must register an official ob--"
"We're getting off track here," Hayes said, raising his voice over the din. "We have already agreed on the necessity of sending two ships, Voyager II and Odyssey, to the region to reestablish ties with the Vidiian Sodality and to aid the Ocampa in their relocation to New Earth. The proposal on the table at present is to send a colony ship, 500 families, including a fair share of both current and former Starfleet officers in addition." He looked around the chamber, as if daring anyone to interrupt. Blanc stirred in his seat, but did not speak. "We would need to have a garrison on the planet anyway--as has been pointed out repeatedly, it's a dangerous region of space." His gaze rested on Janeway for a moment. "And any officers assigned to defense duty would be posted there for a long interval. Despite transwarp, it's still a relatively long journey to the Delta Quadrant. Why not allow them to bring their families along?"
"That's quite a number of people to transport," Teller said thoughtfully. "Would Voyager and Odyssey be able to accommodate that many individuals, as well as the materials and equipment they would require for a colony?"
Hayes nodded to the Head of Starship Fabrication and Design, who was perched rather precariously on a special bench near the podium.
Ch'tin raised his short body up on his midlegs in order to be seen by all those assembled. His mandibles clicked together rhythmically as he said, "We are currently in the process of building other transwarp ships. Odyssey is Voyager II's sister ship, both Columbia class. A third ship is in the preliminary stages of construction, but it wouldn't be too difficult to simply install the transwarp drive meant for this vessel in a freighter class ship instead. One of the Conestoga class vessels--the Pioneer, I believe it is named--is far enough along in its own construction right now at the UP shipyards that it could be readily converted."
"All of this is very well and good," Bullock objected again, "But what about the risks posed by the Vidiians? Can they honestly be trusted?" He looked challengingly around the room. "Look at their track record in how they deal with other species. In their own way, they're much worse than the Borg. At least the Borg were interested in assimilating other cultures and technologies -- the Vidiians simply view other races as a collection of spare parts."
Hayes turned to Janeway. "Why don't you answer this one, Captain? You are, after all, the only person in this room who has had first hand experience with the Vidiians."
Uncomfortable at being put on the spot like this--and forced to defend a policy about which she had mixed feelings--Janeway nonetheless rose and said, "It is true that I have had a number of encounters with the Vidiians, many of them unpleasant. I saw members of my crew captured and in some cases killed for their organs." A few gasps were heard. Owen Paris nodded dourly.
"You see?" demanded Bullock.
Janeway continued, "However, even at the height of this 'reign of terror', not all of the Vidiians could be viewed as 'evil.' The fact that I am standing here before you today is solely due to the compassion and generosity of specific Vidiian individuals." She paused. "In the second year of our journey, my first officer and I contracted a fatal viral infection, for which our chief medical officer could find no cure. Voyager was forced to leave us behind on the planet and continue the journey without us. But it was Dr. Denara Pel--the same Dr. Pel who has been in contact with us now and is one of the leading voices behind the Vidiian request for Federation assistance--who obtained the vaccine which enabled us to rejoin our crew."
"And the Phage is no longer an issue," Hayes cut in. "Correct?"
"Yes," Janeway said. "And it is my understanding that as a result, the entire Vidiian culture has undergone a 'sea change', if you will. Although I cannot state with any degree of certainty that they no longer present a threat--" Janeway steadfastly avoided meeting Hayes' eyes, "--I can say that I do not think the nature of the risk is the same as it once was. I also know that Kes, who was a valued and trusted member of my crew, has spent a great deal of time with the Vidiians in recent months and assures us of their trustworthiness. And I trust Kes--with my life, as well as the lives of my crew."
Toddman shook his head. "I'm glad you feel that way, Captain Janeway, and are heartened by this woman's assurances, but the Ocampans are the reason the Federation is being called in to intercede in the first place! They can't even help themselves; it's ludicrous to think a single Ocampan female--a pretty elderly one at that--could possibly be of any use in this situation."
Janeway thought for an instant how best to explain. "Kes is a lot more than what she seems, sir."
"Ah yes, we've heard about her amazing mental abilities, which is how she managed to contact us in the first place," said Teller with sudden animation. "Are you suggesting she's somewhat similar to the Q? They aren't exactly known for their altruism."
"In the past year Kes has thoroughly scouted the area, has a clear view of what the situation is," Janeway said, sidestepping Teller's question. "In addition, there are other races in the vicinity like the Talaxians, or the Haakonians who could be called upon to help."
"Which brings up another point," Will Patterson said, speaking for the first time. "Other races in the area. What about the Kazon and Trabe? Aren't they still considered hostile and dangerous?"
Hayes interceded again. "The answer to your question, Will, is that yes, there is a lot of potential danger in the region. Which is why the Federation needs to take up a permanent position there."
"B-b-but what about the original mission?" asked Gelb. "Has it b-b-been abandoned in favor of p-p-peace keeping?"
"The mission has not been abandoned, rather enhanced," Hayes said at once. "Odyssey and Voyager will still be doing a lot of exploration in the area, will still be renewing ties with the Boirii."
"And the Boirii themselves are another reason in favor of establishing a colony on New Earth," Nechayev added. "There is already a Human enclave not too far away."
Hayes nodded. "Are there any other objections?"
Bullock gave him a look, but did not say anything further.
"I have a question," T'Lara said, turning to Ch'tin. "One of logistics. How long will it take to get all the ships ready? And in terms of recruiting personnel for the new colony..."
Janeway ignored the Locastan's detailed answer--a summary of which she had already seen two days earlier in Admiral Hayes' office--and turned her mind to more immediate concerns. She refocused her attention when she realized Hayes was speaking once more.
"So it appears we are looking at a new launch date toward the end of June. We will be able to firm this up in the next several weeks." Hayes tapped his gavel once more. "This meeting is dismissed."
La Forge rose to his feet and sighed with relief. "Finally." He turned to her. "Are you heading back to UP this afternoon, Kathryn? Or do you plan on just staying in San Francisco and taking an early shuttle tomorrow morning?"
"I'm going to be staying," she said apologetically. "I have plans for the evening."
"All right." He flashed her a grin. "I hope you and Chakotay have a good time. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Bye, Geordi." Janeway waited until the rest of the admirals had filed out, glad to see that Hayes still remained by the podium. The Commander-in-Chief appeared to be studying a stack of PADDs. Janeway hadn't exactly lied to Geordi when she said she had plans, but they did not involve Chakotay. Or anything remotely social in nature.
"Admiral Hayes," she said as she approached. "May I speak with you for a few moments?"
"Not another word, Kathryn," Hayes said, lifting up his hand. Up close, she could see the lines of fatigue on his face. "I already know what you plan to say so you might as well save your breath. We are committed to dealing with the Vidiians--hell, we've already begun to work with them, as the communication device attests."
"This isn't about the Vidiians, sir," Janeway said.
"It's not?" he said in surprise. "I know you still have misgivings."
"Admiral Bullock already voiced those objections much more emphatically than I possibly could have," she said dryly.
"More vehemently, you mean," Hayes muttered to himself. "Then what is this about?"
"Personnel matters for the mission."
"It's already been decided that Geordi La Forge is the best man to captain the Odyssey," Hayes said with a frown. "He's eager for the assignment, and he's already put in a tremendous amount of time and effort--"
"I have no objections to Geordi," Janeway assured him swiftly. "And I agree with you. I think the two of us will be able to work together very well."
"Good," Hayes said, mollified. She suspected he'd had enough disagreements today to last him for quite a while. "Then what is this about?"
"I want to have Commander Tuvok assigned as my first officer."
"You already have a first officer," Hayes said in surprise.
Janeway nodded. "Yes, Commander Merves is a fine officer, but Tuvok was always my first choice for the position."
"Tuvok resigned his Starfleet commission last May," Hayes reminded her. "His being in uniform now simply reflects his special assignment status." He exhaled sharply, perhaps recognizing the determined expression on her face. "How do you know if Tuvok would even be interested--he had very specific reasons for resigning last year."
"I know that, sir. I also happen to know that those reasons are no longer valid."
"What are you saying?" Hayes said, anger clouding his features when the meaning of her words sank in. "I also want to know how you could have the temerity to have already discussed this with Tuvok when you know another officer has been assigned to Voyager!"
"With all due respect, Admiral Hayes," Janeway retorted, "this is something Tuvok mentioned to me a long time ago. Even before you offered me the Voyager II, I asked him if he would ever consider returning to active duty. Tuvok resigned from Starfleet because he wanted to avoid another separation from his wife T'Pel. But that wouldn't be the case here, not with the change in the mission objectives."
"Are you suggesting bringing her along?"
"Why not?" Janeway insisted. "As per the original mission parameters, we already have a civilian team of archaeologists and anthropologists accompanying us. T'Pel is ideally suited to be a member of this team, with her background in comparative sociology. She can also make several useful contributions in the negotiations among the Vidiians, the Federation colonists and the Ocampans."
"We've already contacted our top diplomat, who will be conducting those negotiations as well as acting as governor of the colony for the first year," Hayes said at once. "Any decisions about his staff will obviously have to be made by Ambassador Diaza." He sighed. "But I agree with your first point. T'Pel is qualified to be a member of the civilian research team." He smiled briefly. "I suspect Chakotay would concur."
"Then you'll agree to her assignment?" And by extension, Tuvok's. Janeway mentally held her breath.
Hayes gave her a piercing look. "I'm still not very happy about your display of independence here, and I wouldn't hesitate to bust you down in rank for it, except for the fact that you happen to be right. Starship captains do have the right to pick their first officers, and most of the senior staff positions unless there are other extenuating circumstances involved." He passed a weary hand over his face. "But the problem is still Commander Merves--he deserves this position. He's a full commander, and has served as a first officer for a number of years already. He acquitted himself very well in the Dominion War, even held his own command as a brevet captain in the latter months. It's just not fair to pass him over on a whim."
"I understand, sir, and you're correct," Janeway said evenly, though this was not a 'whim.' She needed Tuvok, would have a lot more confidence in the successful completion of the mission if he were by her side. "But there is a way out of the dilemma. After all, there is a third ship going to the Delta Quadrant."
"Give Merves command of the Pioneer?" Hayes said, considering. "I'll have to think about this some more, but it does at first glance seem to be a perfect solution."
"Thank you, sir."
"Don't thank me yet, Kathryn," he warned her. "You still don't know if Tuvok would be interested in serving under you again."
Janeway smiled. "Don't worry, Admiral. I'm sure."
*3*
Hellstone Colony, February 5
Jim Morrow woke up drunk. He was used to waking up hung over, but it was a new experience to wake up still ripped. Flat on his back on the damp ground, he saw the gray sky swirl above him - at least, he thought the sky was swirling. There was a good chance the churning was actually in his brain. And his stomach.
Only one thing for it, he thought. Not bothering to sit up, he raised the bottle he still clutched to his mouth and took another sip. His hand shook so much that the red liquid splashed across his face, and more of it landed in his nose than his mouth. The rotgut cut a swath of flame up his nostrils into his sinuses, and he bolted up, snorting and shaking his head. His hands hit the ground hard, and he heard the sound of glass shattering.
When he could breathe again, he lifted the hand that still clutched the neck of the bottle. That was all that was left, seven centimeters of a narrow glass cylinder, sheared to a v-point. The rest of it was scattered beside him, with a red puddle that was dimpled even as it sank into the grass.
He stared at the puddle for a long time, trying to understand the dimples. Finally, he realized that it was raining. "Of course it's raining," he said aloud. "It rains every morning on this stinkin' swamp."
Opening his fingers, he let the bottleneck drop and turned his face skyward. Closing his eyes, he let the rain thoroughly wet his face before he rubbed it vigorously. Then he ran his fingers through his hair. It was what he called a shower these days.
A low rumble from the west caused him to freeze, and then look upward. There it was. The daily ore transport, its atmospheric thrusters flaming, was lifting off on its way to - to -- His mind worked frantically. This was the second day of the week, so the ship was bound for Andor Prime - unless he'd passed out for an entire day, which would mean it was heading for Bajor. But no, he wouldn't still be drunk if he'd been out that long. It was definitely heading for Andor. Every morning, just after dawn, another ship left for a world nearer the heart of the Federation. Every morning, he sat on this hill and watched them leave.
He kept his eyes glued on the ship until it disappeared into the clouds, and for a moment longer. He wasn't sure why he came and watched every day. It wasn't like he was ever going back. There was nothing for him on Earth any more. There was nothing for him anywhere.
His hand brushed against the discarded bottle neck and he picked it up. The break had been clean, leaving a sharp "v" shape that looked as lethal as any knife. He dragged the tip of the "v" lightly over the pad of his left index finger and was fascinated to see tiny beads of blood. The skin was heavily callused, and yet it had been broken so effortlessly.
Fascinated, he studied the edge of the glass, noting a smear red that was too thick to be the booze. Then, slowly, he brushed it along the flat of his outer wrist. More tiny beads of blood appeared almost at once. If it did that to the hardier outer skin, he thought, what would it do the more vulnerable inner wrist? How hard would he have to press --
"There you are."
The unexpected voice startled him, and he dropped the shard. Twisting his head over his shoulder, he saw that Sergeant Rado, the only Bajoran on the godforsaken planet, was standing over him, wearing a dark waterproof coat that already sported tiny streams of rain. Jim liked Rado; he was corrupt, but predictably corrupt and that was as close as anyone came to integrity on the aptly-named Hellstone Colony.
Twisting that way made his stomach lurch, so Jim carefully turned his head forward again. "Don't tell me I'm trespassing."
"As a matter of fact, you are," Rado said, but mildly. He sat down on the wet grass on Jim's left. "This is the property of the Hellstone Mining and Excavation Consortium."
"And I'm an employee of said landowner." His sincerity was marred by a deep and vocal burp.
"You were an employee. You were fired yesterday. Or have you managed to forget that already?"
Small planet, Jim thought. News travels fast. "Yeah, well I'm sure that's just a misunderstanding that will all get straightened out."
"I don't think so. You show up for work drunk four days in a row, and you're out." Rado studied the horizon. "Guess you've got a pretty good view of the transport here."
"Yeah."
"It would be an excellent idea," Rado said, not looking at him, "if tomorrow, you checked out the view of this hill from the transport."
Jim felt certain that what Rado said probably made sense, but his befuddled brain couldn't sort it out. "What?"
"Be on the transport tomorrow."
"Oh." He croaked a laugh and collapsed on the wet ground, closing his eyes against the drizzle. "Can't."
"Yes, you can."
Something small and heavy hit his chest, and Jim opened his eyes. A small pouch now sat on his ribs, perched at an angle. He grasped it in one hand and felt its heft. Puzzled, he looked up at Rado.
"Thirty credits," the guard said. "The cost of a one-way berth on the Bajor transport."
Feeling stupid, Jim sat up slowly, staring at the pouch. "But I can't-"
Rado stood. "You can. And you will. Because if you're still here tomorrow afternoon, I'll arrest you for theft and throw you in a cell so deep you won't be able to remember the sun."
He turned and took three long strides before Jim managed to say, "Why?" Rado wasn't exactly known as a soft touch.
The Bajoran turned, but said nothing. He just looked at Jim and kept looking at him, his face slowly hardening into an expression of disgust. Jim suddenly became acutely aware of the rain dripping off his nose and his tattered clothes and his greasy hair. Finally Rado spoke. "Because you've just hit bottom, Jimmy. You can't get any lower than you are right now."
He squatted down so he at eye-level. "There's only two things that happen at the bottom. You find a way to adapt, or you don't. I've seen a lot of people down here, and I don't think you're going to adapt. You just aren't that kind."
Jim swallowed hard. He knew what Rado meant about adapting. There were no social support networks on Hellstone, no charities, no safe havens. If you wanted to eat, you worked. And if you got fired by the Company, which hired anyone willing to work in the dark tunnels 12 hours a day, there weren't many career opportunities. If he was lucky, he could find work as a bouncer or even a janitor for one of the bars. If he wasn't lucky, he could end up working the cribs above the bars. "I- I'll make it okay."
"No you won't." Rado didn't hesitate. "You're barely making it now. You just don't have enough give in you to stay this low." He shook his head. "I've seen others like you. Sooner or later, they wind up in the morgue. I don't want to open a slab one day and see you on it. Get out of here, Jimmy. Whatever you were running from, it's not as bad as this."
Then he stood again, and walked away. Jim didn't try to call him this time.
'Whatever you were running from', Rado said. Jim huffed once, a dry chuckle that didn't quite take. He was running from Jim Morrow, ex-Starfleeter, and he had finally figured out he was going to lose that race. Crewman Morrow was always there, just half a step behind him.
Looking toward the spaceport, he thought about Bajor. Angelo Tessoni was there, and Celes. Some of the others from Voyager, maybe. If they had figured out how to start over, perhaps they could show him how.
He tried to stand and slipped on the wet grass, but finally righted himself. His hand clutched the pouch tightly. Thirty credits. It could go a long way, maybe a month even, if he didn't drink more than a bottle a night.
As he started up the hill, he remembered - Rado had promised to arrest him if he were still here tomorrow night. He stopped, and tried to organize his thoughts. The jails on Hellstone weren't like Starfleet's clean, convenient brigs. They were the subject of local legend, with their damp and mildewed stone walls, almost medieval in construction. It was said that there were still a few skeletons huddled in corners, men who were simply 'forgotten' by the local authorities.
After a moment, he turned and started downhill. If he bought his passage now, he couldn't blow the money before tomorrow. As he headed for the spaceport, he thought about just how far thirty credits could go. They could go at least as far as Bajor.
*4*
San Francisco, February 9
"You know it's funny, Kathryn," Chakotay said as he handed her a glass of wine.
She settled herself comfortably onto the sofa in their living room and waited for him to continue. They had all evening -- a rare treat these days, she thought wryly -- and they'd decided to spend it at home. They'd set up this 'date' several weeks ago, after Chakotay had been called to the university lab during dinner for the second time in as many days, and when he'd finally returned home at two a.m. had found Kathryn asleep at her desk, surrounded by a jumble of PADDs and blueprints and three cups of very cold coffee. He'd decided then and there something had to be done and had composed and entered a formal invitation onto the PADD labeled urgent which lay just beside her elbow. He'd kissed her awake and led her to bed, and was gone before she woke the next morning.
Chakotay, his own glass of chilled Hestran Riesling in hand, sat down beside her.
"Now that it's actually official, and you and I are both on our way back there, I can admit it."
"Admit what?" She took a sip of her wine and nodded in appreciation. "Mmmm, this is good, Chakotay, just the right temperature."
He grinned at her. "I finally figured out the settings on the new cooler and relabeled all of them. This one's marked KJ." She laughed, batted at his knee and took another sip.
"I never thought I'd say it," he continued, "but I'm actually looking forward to going back to the Delta Quadrant."
He felt her shift slightly to look at him.
"Oh, don't worry," he said quickly, "I know things are going to be very different this time, and believe me, I'm not looking to recapture or relive anything. As a matter of fact, there are a lot of memories from those years I'd just as soon forget forever. But Kathryn, there's so much we can learn out there. The anthropologist in me is chomping at the bit to get out there. "
"Not to mention the archaeologist," Kathryn teased him. "If you're going to spend the entire mission digging in the dirt and looking under rocks..."
"That's exactly what I'm going to do," he replied with a laugh. "And I'm going to have a team of experts out there with me doing the exact same thing. "
"Oh no. I can just imagine what's going to happen." Janeway sat up straight and gave an exaggerated sigh. "Voyager to the away team," she said, her tone suddenly captain-like. "Please return to the ship. We're underway in fourteen minutes and there's a hostile ship approaching on the port side." She grinned at him and continued in a lower tone. "Just give me three more minutes Captain, we've found a fossil..."
Chakotay laughed again. "I promise I won't do that," he said, and took another sip of his wine. "At least not too often."
They both settled back onto the sofa and into comfortable silence.
After a few minutes Chakotay took Kathryn's now empty glass and placed it, along with his own, on the table beside them. He turned back to face her. Her eyes were closed, but he knew she wasn't asleep.
"There are a few other enticing factors about this mission, you know," he said quietly.
"Hmmmm...." Janeway's eyes remained closed, but she reached for his hand.
"Kes," She said immediately.
Chakotay squeezed her hand. "Yes, and Tom and B'Elanna and Miral and the others..."
"That will be nice, won't it?" she replied quietly.
"I've started thinking about the team I'm going to assemble, and it's going to be a good one. There are even a couple of students I'm considering. "
"I know T'Pel will be an incredible asset on this mission - for you and for me," Kathryn said. "And for Tuvok, of course." She added.
"And there's another thing," he said. "It may not be that cabin in the woods that I've talked about, and I know you and I are probably both going to be busier with our work than we've ever been, but we're going to be together. And we'll probably be able to do this" he gestured, indicating their present situation "far more often than we can now."
She opened her eyes and smiled at him. "Do you think I haven't thought about that?" she asked. "It's kept me from phasering more than a few colleagues recently. I just want to finish all the preparations and get out of here and underway. With you."
Chakotay got up and retrieved the bottle of wine from the cooler. He poured the rest of it into their glasses and handed Kathryn hers.
"You know Kathryn, I've been thinking," he said, after he'd sat back down beside her.
She cocked an eyebrow and grinned. "Really?"
He ignored her and continued. "We're going back to New Earth," he said, "And I don't know about you, but I've got a soft spot in my heart for that particular planet."
She didn't reply, but took his hand again.
"I'd like to propose something," he said. "What would you think if we...."
He leaned over and began to whisper in her ear.
*5*
Deep Space Nine, March 4
"Hey Dad," Raul shouted before the door had even closed behind Michael Ayala. "I got an excellent on my math test!"
Ayala grinned. "That's great." He took the offered PADD and read it. "Wow. This is tough stuff." Raul's smile grew even bigger. He hugged his son. Marit would have been so proud. He looked up when Luis harrumphed with a pained look of disgust at Raul's glee.
"Mr. Paris called," his older boy said.
"He said," Raul interrupted, "that it was up to you if I could learn to fly. Please." Raul dragged that last word out.
"Tom is a very busy man," Ayala said. He looked back at Luis. "Did he leave a message?" He wondered if perhaps B'Elanna might be pregnant. He'd only heard from Tom a few times in the past year.
"Nope," Luis said as he returned to his homework. "Just that you were to call him when you got home."
Ayala made a quick calculation, and then frowned. He could never remember if it was sixteen hours earlier or thirteen where Tom was.
He'd contact Tom in a bit. "How was your day?" he asked Luis.
"Okay." Luis didn't look up from his book. "Mr. Paris did say it was important."
"Important?" Ayala stared at his son, but it was Raul who grabbed his hand.
"He said he had a job for you and that we could come..."
Luis swatted at Raul's head. Raul ducked. "Actually he said that Voyager's mission has been changed and you might be interested. Raul is the one who asked if we can go."
"Well, he didn't say no," Raul said as he stuck out his tongue. "Can we?"
"First let me find out what Tom has to say," Ayala said, with another frown. Voyager's original mission was to return to the Delta Quadrant--which would mean a separation from his children, something he absolutely refused to consider. They were comfortable here on Deep Space Nine - were building a good life for themselves. Being so close to Bajor, especially Kajee Narel, was another plus. Even though the reminders of war and loss were always present, The Prophets knew both his boys - but especially Luis - needed stability more than anything else. Being an absentee father was out of the question.
"But he said lots of families were going to the Delta Quadrant!" Raul burst out. "Why can't we go, too?"
"First we're going to eat dinner," Ayala said firmly. "Then later this evening--or maybe tomorrow morning--I will speak to Tom and find out what this is all about." Privately, he doubted that Tom's 'offer' had to do with Voyager. Raul, in his excitement, had probably gotten Tom's mission on Voyager mixed up with whatever this new posting was. He noticed that Luis was only pretending to read his history book. "If I did get a new posting on a ship, one that allowed families, would you be interested?"
"YES!" Raul shouted then started to leap again. Ayala continued to look at Luis.
"Maybe," Luis finally said with another annoyed look at his younger brother.
Ayala knew that was about as enthusiastic response as he could expect from Luis. He clapped his younger boy on the shoulder. "Don't get your hopes up, son. I don't know what this mission entails."
Raul jumped with joy, and landed on Ayala's right foot. "Raul," Luis said, "you're a pest."
"Am not!" the younger boy said as he stuck his tongue out yet again.
Ayala rolled his eyes. The boys usually got along, but every so often..."Raul, you're not a pest, you're just too excited. I...I mean we haven't agreed to anything. I don't even know what it's all about."
"What about Kajee?" Raul asked, with a sudden frown. "Would she be able to come with us, too?"
A quick change of subject was in order, Ayala decided. "Go wash up, boys. Dinner will be ready in a moment." As he punched his commands into the replicator he thought to himself that he'd contact Tom after the boys went to school in the morning.
*6*
Voyager II, Utopia Planitia March 4
Kathryn Janeway settled into the chair behind her desk, a cup of black coffee in hand. Her ready room still wasn't finished--another coat of paint and the final bits of carpeting were yet to be added--but at least water wasn't dripping on her head any more. Now she wanted to start making the place her own. Though she hadn't had a chance to fill all the drawers yet, let alone add any personal touches, her desk was already littered with nearly a dozen data PADDS containing status reports from various departments and systems throughout the ship. She smiled wryly at the evidence of the work she had to do today. She actually looked forward to it. Much as she'd enjoyed her students, she'd missed the pressures - and joys, of starship life.
She leaned back and raised her cup to her lips, feeling very satisfied, and musing that her new chair was becoming nearly as comfortable as her old one had been, now that she was starting to work it in--
Kathryn's coffee sloshed against her lips as the ready room door slid open unexpectedly and her chief engineer stormed in. She winced a little--the coffee was hot--and noted B'Elanna's disturbed expression as the engineer strode toward her desk.
"I don't recall issuing an invitation," Kathryn said mildly, "but come in anyway."
B'Elanna's stride didn't slow. "Captain, I'm sorry to barge in, but I couldn't wait any longer. I've been thinking about this for days, and I know it may not be my place to say anything, but I have to get this off my chest--"
"B'Elanna." Kathryn interrupted the steady stream of words. "Slow down. Does this have something to do with engineering?"
She'd just started getting fully up-to-date on everything, but from the latest reports, Kathryn had assumed B'Elanna had the engineering department well in hand. B'Elanna confirmed it by shaking her head. "It doesn't have anything to do with the ship. It's about this new mission. I have some serious reservations, and I can't keep silent any longer."
Kathryn raised her hand before B'Elanna could continue. She stood and motioned to the couch. "Let's sit down."
"I don't think--"
"Commander, sit." Kathryn used her firmest tone, which brooked no refusal. She walked to the replicator while B'Elanna reluctantly sat. A few moments later she sat too, and handed B'Elanna a cup of raktajino.
"All right." Kathryn settled her cup of coffee in her lap and allowed a few moments to pass. She'd been expecting this, and she hadn't yet formulated a response, given that she had many of the same doubts B'Elanna probably did. "I expect you to have reservations about this mission. I have a few myself."
"Then why didn't you insist we stick with the original mission, instead of letting Starfleet brass stick their noses into something they don't understand?"
Kathryn ignored the fact that she was to all intents and purposes "Starfleet brass" herself. As a captain she played a part in the decision-making process. Maybe she couldn't resurrect a mission that had already been scrapped, but she could have turned down this new one. And, most likely, received a transfer to command another ship. She sighed. "Believe me, it wasn't a decision I made lightly, B'Elanna."
"Captain, these are the Vidiians we're talking about! You should know what they're capable of! Or have you forgotten what they did to me, and to Neelix, and to Pete Durst?"
B'Elanna's tone was accusatory and Kathryn went still. She'd visited Peter Durst's parents not long after Voyager had arrived back in the Alpha Quadrant, to let them know how highly regarded their son had been, and to personally deliver his posthumous Starfleet Medal of Valor. But that couldn't remove the pain from their eyes, or erase their knowledge of the nature of their son's horrible death. She'd been aware of that every second she'd been with them, as she had been with the families of other crewmembers who'd been lost in the Delta Quadrant. Her words couldn't compensate for what had been taken from them under her watch. Nothing could.
"No. I haven't forgotten."
Kathryn's stony tone brought a flush to B'Elanna's cheeks. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply--"
"Maybe not. But you did." Kathryn waved a hand before B'Elanna could apologize again. She thought about those losses and her part in them often enough. There was no point in talking about them, and there was another purpose to B'Elanna's visit. "I know that you went through a horrible experience with the Vidiians, Commander, and I do not in any way belittle it. But the situation has changed. Thanks to the Think Tank, there is a cure for the Phage. The Vidiians don't need to harvest organs to survive."
"Maybe not," B'Elanna agreed. "But just because the situation has changed doesn't mean the people have. Even though they aren't in desperate straits any more, who says they won't still see profit in harvesting organs, or pirating ships, or other illicit activities? If they had no honor, and no regard for other life then, why should they change?"
"What about Denara Pel?" Kathryn asked. Even in their worst days not every Vidiian had been the same, and Denara was a perfect example of that truth. "She had honor. And she's involved in this mission."
B'Elanna shrugged. "She's an exception. But most of the Vidiians weren't like her."
"Maybe or maybe not. We only met a few of them. And with the Phage cured, it's likely the Vidiians who want to cling to their old values are in the minority. In the general population, most may be like Denara Pel, eager to restore their society to its former state. They were once artisans and scientists who lived at peace with surrounding races. That memory is a strong motivator."
"Do you really think they can change overnight, after hundreds of years of compromising their moral integrity?"
It was more like thousands of years, and Kathryn knew it was a lot to expect. It wouldn't be easy for them. "I think they can, with help, and with a good example to follow. Which is the purpose of our mission. Kes believes the same thing."
"Kes..."
Kathryn heard the doubt in B'Elanna's voice. They both knew how Kes had behaved the last time they'd seen her. She'd been a tortured shadow of her former self. "Kes has been in contact with some of the Vidiians, including Denara Pel, and she feels certain that their motives are genuine."
"I know Tuvok has vouched that Kes is...well, herself again, and I'm very glad about that. But even Kes can't control every variable, least of all the actions of others."
"No, she can't," Kathryn agreed. "But I do trust Kes's judgment, and even more, I trust Tuvok's."
B'Elanna leaned forward and set the cup of raktajino she hadn't touched on the table. "If there was just myself, and Tom, to consider, I probably wouldn't even be here. We've taken chances with our lives before, gone into situations far more dangerous than this, sometimes by choice. I've never had a problem putting myself at risk when necessary. But my daughter is another matter. Her welfare is my responsibility."
"The welfare of everyone on my ship is also my responsibility," Kathryn reminded her sharply. "I wouldn't allow Miral to come on this mission if I thought her life could be in serious danger."
After a moment B'Elanna nodded. "I know that. I just..." She shook her head. "The thought of what happened to me happening to her--of anything happening to her--"
Kathryn reached over and placed her hand over B'Elanna's. "There are no absolute guarantees in life, B'Elanna. God knows we've learned that lesson well. Even staying put on Earth isn't risk-free. It's been the target of several attacks, most recently from the Borg and the Dominion. I can't give you empty assurances, but I am certain Miral won't come to any harm from the Vidiians. Still, if you and Tom want me to release you from your positions on Voyager, I will."
B'Elanna looked surprised at the offer, and she frowned thoughtfully for a moment. "No. You're right. I probably am overreacting." Her eyes widened, as if she'd just realized something. She let out a short laugh. "Good gods, I'm acting like an over-protective mother, aren't I?"
Kathryn smiled. "You're acting like a mother, period. Miral is your first priority, as she should be."
"She is," B'Elanna agreed. "I still can't say I'm completely comfortable with this mission, but maybe I never will be when it comes to the Vidiians."
"Maybe not, but you don't have to be friends with them, B'Elanna," Kathryn said, though she suspected if the Vidiians proved to be as willing to change as Kes believed, B'Elanna would come to tolerate them, and even like some of them on an individual basis, as she'd come to like Denara Pel. That was the way it usually worked when two species first established relations. It was always easiest to accept and understand the individuals first, then relate them to the whole and gain an understanding of the culture and the people.
"Whatever happened in the past, I do believe the Vidiians deserve a second chance," Kathryn added. That much was true. "And after all my arguments to Starfleet a year ago about second chances, I could hardly deny it to the Vidiians, could I?"
That pointed observation elicited a frustrated sigh from B'Elanna. "No, I don't suppose you could. I guess I just needed a chance to vent, and I've already done it enough to Tom recently."
Kathryn's eyebrows rose. "I suppose I should be flattered to rate right behind Tom."
"Chakotay hasn't been available."
Kathryn laughed, though underneath she too lamented Chakotay's recent busy schedule.
"But I do trust your judgment, Captain. And so does Tom."
"Good," Kathryn said. "You and Tom are too valuable to this ship for me to give you up easily. And I promise you that we will be going into this mission with open eyes. My new first officer has already insisted on the highest level security protocols."
B'Elanna looked relieved, then amused. "I suppose Tuvok won't ever change."
Kathryn's lips quirked. "Vulcans are known to be a little...retentive. But it's one reason he's always been my first choice after Chakotay decided to leave Starfleet."
"He's a good choice, and I know Chakotay is very happy with his life as it is now...all of it." B'Elanna's meaning was clear. She stood. "I should get back to engineering. Thank you for listening to me, Captain."
"You're welcome," Kathryn said, as B'Elanna moved toward the door. "And, Commander...I'm always available to listen--about the Vidiians, or anything else. But next time, use the announcer."
B'Elanna nodded. "Yes, ma'am."
Kathryn sat back as the door closed behind her chief engineer. She took a sip of her coffee, though it was now lukewarm. She hoped B'Elanna's trust in her was justified. Despite her own reservations, she did believe this was the right thing to do. It was easy to judge the Vidiians, but a lot harder to know with certainty what humans--or Vulcans, or Klingons--might have resorted to if they'd had to watch their society crumble and their loved ones suffer and die in agony. It was not a comfortable subject to ponder.
Besides, there was another aspect to this mission, one that had very personal meaning for her. She had sacrificed a quick trip home for her crew, against some of their wishes--had ultimately sacrificed some of their lives--to save the Ocampans. Then she'd left them to muddle through as best they could, no longer doomed, but with no certain future either. To go back now and help the Ocampans rebuild their society, and to see them truly thrive as a species again--that would honor those sacrifices she and her crew had made, in the best way possible.
*7*
Deep Space Nine, March 5
"Lieutenant Michael Ayala?" asked the unfamiliar Andorian woman on the comm.
"Yes," Ayala answered, wondering who was calling him at this hour of the morning. He checked the chronometer; he wasn't due to start his duty shift for another two hours.
"I am Glera, a member of Ambassador Shuba Diaza's staff. I understand you are one of the leading candidates for the position of Security Chief on board the Pioneer--"
"Hold on just a minute," Ayala interrupted. "I'm a candidate for what?"
"For Security Chief on board the Pioneer," Glera repeated. At his blank look, she added, "The colony ship that is being sent to the Delta Quadrant?"
"I thought only Voyager was going to the Delta Quadrant," Ayala said. "What's this about a colony?"
Glera's antennae twitched. "Haven't you spoken to Lieutenant Commander Paris? He's the one who submitted your name."
"I received a message from Mr. Paris yesterday while I was out," Ayala said grimly, "but it didn't say anything specific about being a Security Chief. And most certainly nothing about a colony."
"Oh dear," Glera said. "Perhaps I should begin at the beginning, or better yet, have you speak to Lieutenant Commander Paris first."
"Oh, I will definitely be speaking to him, you can be sure of that," Ayala said.
"Please contact our office afterwards," Glera said. "I can be reached at these coordinates."
As soon as the connection was broken, Ayala placed a call to Utopia Planitia.
"Mike!" Tom Paris said delightedly. "Did you get my message?"
"Yes, I did," Ayala said, "along with one from an Andorian woman who informed me that she was the aide to some Ambassador I've never heard of and that I'm being considered for a posting I never applied for!"
"Ah. Sorry about that," Tom said. "But I explained the whole thing when I called yesterday."
Ayala rolled his eyes. "Tom, do you let Miral take your comm messages for you when you're out?"
"Uh, no--"
"Trust me, teenagers aren't much more reliable than toddlers in that respect. The boys told me you called, but that was it."
"Sorry," Tom said again. "At any rate, let me fill you in now. Voyager's mission has been changed. Instead of one ship, it'll be three, and instead of focusing our contact efforts on the Boirii, the Federation will be establishing an embassy with the Vidiians."
Ayala shivered. The Vidiians? "What--"
"Hear me out, please?" Tom said. "We're hoping to establish a permanent colony too. On New Earth--that's the planet that the Captain and Commander were stranded on all those years ago, remember?"
"So that's where the Vidiians come into it?" Ayala asked with a frown. "Isn't it a bit, uh, risky, setting up a colony on one of their planets? Tom, you remember what they were like. Their attitude towards other species is that of organ donor, willing or not."
"The situation's changed, Mike," Tom said once more. "The Phage has been cured, and the Vidiians are interested in mending relations with their neighbors. Besides, the Federation colony won't be the only settlers on the planet. I understand that Kes is leading a group of Ocampa, hoping to establish a new home for them there as well."
Knowing that Kes was involved calmed Ayala down considerably. "I still don't understand what you want from me, though."
"The number of colonists is going to be very small, about 500 families. They'll be transported on board a special ship, the Pioneer. There's been a lot of interest from refugees from the recent wars--people who would be interested in picking up and starting a new life out there."
"I see," Ayala said non-committedly.
"The Pioneer needs a Chief of Security. The understanding is that afterwards this officer would also be in charge of setting up planetary defenses." Tom paused. "Mike, you'd be perfect for the job."
"I'm not sure I want to relocate now," Ayala started to say.
Tom held up a hand. "Look, I'm transmitting you the information. Don't make any hasty decisions. Go through the details, talk to your boys. If you've got any questions, the Andorian Ambassador's office is available." He added, "Captain Janeway thinks highly of you, you know. Both she and Commander Tuvok suggested you for consideration for this slot."
"I appreciate it, Tom," Ayala said. "I think."
Tom laughed. "I'll speak to you soon. Take care, Mike."
Ayala stared at the data files, his eyes wide. Security Chief of one of the three transwarp vessels in existence...hell, Security Chief for an entire colony! This was an impressive step up the career ladder. The salary wasn't bad either. And the chance to start out fresh on a new planet, far away from the scars and reminders of war--
He froze at the sound of hushed voices outside his door.
"Shush, don't--" a voice said, "--Dad will hear you."
"I bet that was Tom...Mr. Paris," Raul said even louder.
"We don't know that," Luis said.
"Come in here," Ayala called out. "Both of you." The door opened, and the two boys entered. Raul looked excited, Luis looked a bit sheepish--probably because they'd been caught.
"Was that Tom who called?" Raul asked eagerly.
"No, it wasn't." He smiled at the look of disappointment on both their faces. "I spoke to him afterwards. The first call was from someone who wanted to offer me a position on a starship."
"On Voyager?" Raul said as he jumped in excitement.
Ayala shook his head at his younger son's boundless energy, even at this hour of the morning. "Not quite. The ship is called Pioneer."
"Is it going to the Delta Quadrant?"
"Yes--to a planet called New Earth." Ayala hesitated. "If we went there, it would require at least a year's commitment. If you don't like it after three weeks, tough. I can't just up and come back here. You'll be leaving your friends, everything you know..."
"Good," Luis muttered. "I hate this place."
"Can Kajee come?" Raul asked.
"If she wants to. I understand there are other people looking to colonize this planet." Ayala privately wondered, though, if she would be willing to embark on such a journey. And he realized he was not particularly looking forward to leaving her behind if she were not. "And I'd be in charge of security. That means I'd be real busy. And I'd probably be away a lot more than I am now, at least in the early months of setting up the colony." He let them think about that for a few seconds. "Now, I don't need to make a decision for a few weeks, so I want you to think about this. Think hard. We'll talk again. Let me read through what the Commander sent me and I'll give you both a copy. Remember, 'all for one...'"
"And one for two!" Raul shouted.
Ayala chuckled, while Luis corrected his younger brother. "Silly, it's 'and one for all.'"
Raul ran out of the room shouting, "I'm going to start packing!"
Michael studied his older boy for a few second. "Luis, I can say no. If you don't want to go..."
"Will J.J. and Patrick be going?"
"Joe's kids?" Ayala hesitated. "I don't know. I don't even know if their father is going on this mission. But we can try to find out."
Luis smiled shyly. "If the Careys would come too, that would be great."
There was a crash from somewhere in the house. Both of them ran out, only to find Raul buried under a pile of clothes in his closet. "The box on the top shelf fell on me," he said plaintively.
"I can see that," Ayala said with a sigh. "Even though it looks like some of these items have been sitting on the floor of your closet for some time."
"I'll clean it up right away!" Raul promised. "As part of my packing."
"I haven't said yes--and we wouldn't be leaving for some time," Ayala admonished him. He bent down to help extricate the boy. "And in the meantime, you'll want to have something to wear."
*8*
Bajor, April 9
Ro Laren breezed into Kajee Narel's house and glanced around her as she said, "Hey, I thought this was supposed to be a party. No one would know it, the way you all look!"
Kajee, allegedly the host of the party, was sitting at the table and weeping quietly. Tal Celes and her husband Angelo were patting her on the shoulders, looking distressed. Michael Ayala was leaning on the wall close to the kitchen door, arms crossed in front of him and with a stony expression upon his face. Ayala's two boys and Kajee's daughter were not in sight, but a human male with a dissolute air about him was sitting across the table from Kajee. His face was screwed up into a pained pout as he tasted some sort of liquid in a glass that Ro suspected held Kafar, which she considered undrinkable.
Tal sighed. "I'm sorry, Ro. Our news upset Kajee."
"What news?"
"Angelo and I are going back to the Delta Quadrant."
"The new Voyager's mission? I heard about that," Ro replied, as nonchalantly as she could, although she felt as if she had just been jabbed with an elbow to the gut. It didn't take Ro more than a nanosecond to figure out what the "big secret" was that Raul couldn't talk to Ro about until after the party. "Congratulations, Tal. I'm sure you and Angelo will enjoy it a lot more this time around. Oh, and Ayala...could I have a quick word?"
Ayala nodded and reluctantly followed Ro outside, with such a sheepish expression on his face she barely waited for him to clear the door before she spat out, "I trust you were going to give me notice before you shipped out."
They walked up the slope behind Kajee's house slowly. Ro wasn't surprised. It seemed to have gotten a lot steeper since the last time she'd been here, less than two weeks ago.
"Ro, I'm sorry. I know I should have spoken to you when I first heard of it. At first I wasn't sure going back there was the right thing to do, but Raul wanted to go see where I'd been and even Luis wanted to go, although when he heard the Careys probably aren't going, he...Ro, I'm blabbering, aren't I?"
"You certainly are, Ayala," she said with a labored chuckle. She didn't feel much like laughing, although Ayala seemed not to notice--or maybe he was pretending not to, for her sake.
"I was only going to apply for leave, though, I wasn't resigning. The mission is only for eighteen months."
"Voyager was only supposed to be gone for a few weeks last time," Ro replied sardonically.
"This is different. The Pioneer is establishing a colony to support the embassy on New Earth, but with the new drive, they're expecting regular trips back and forth very soon. I told Kajee that, but she got hysterical anyway."
"Eighteen months is a long time to be apart from someone you love, especially when she hasn't gotten any sort of commitment from you," Ro noted, perching upon the large granite boulder that commanded a panoramic view of Kajee's house and the village beyond.
He hesitated before answering softly, "I didn't think she was ready for that yet."
Ro bit back a pained moan, saying only, "Of course she's ready, Michael. She's been ready from the first time she met you, that day you came home to Raul."
"She doesn't want to lose Raul," he said, an uncharacteristic quaver in his voice.
"She doesn't want to lose either of you, you big blockhead! Go to her. You don't have to ask her to marry you. Just ask if she wants to come along 'for an adventure.' Prophets! She's had nothing but grief and toil and worry about what was going to hit her next for years! Let her try something new for once! If she's traveling with you, she won't need a commitment if you're not ready yet to give her one. It will be good for Lajen, too. She's too fond of your boys to be torn apart from them."
"We'll be back, Ro. In a year and a half."
"You say that now, but if you're happy out there? Why bother to come back? Angelo will be much happier building houses in a new colony, not having to hear snide whispers behind his back about his past--even when he's doing people a big favor by working for them for almost nothing. I understand why he and Tal are going."
"Are you wondering why I am? Because I'm wondering myself. I've got a good job, and the boys are happy here." He sat on the rock next to Ro and sighed.
"You may be happy with your sons and your friends here on Bajor, but something has been missing since you came back to the Alpha Quadrant, I think." He looked at her, a question in his eyes. She answered before he gave it voice. "That Voyager family of yours--most of them will be together again, right?"
"I guess. Not all, though. The Careys won't be coming."
"But Janeway and Chakotay, Paris and Torres, Doctor Zimmerman, the Talaxians, Harry Kim, Tuvok and his wife, too--they'll all be going, I hear."
"They will. Interested in making a new start out there in the Delta Quadrant? Away from all the vedeks?"
"No, thank you!" Ro laughed. "I've made enough new starts in my life. It's time to stick with something. And I wouldn't count on being 'away from all the vedeks.' Prylor Sem Varen is going along to allow the Bajorans in the group a chance to worship the Prophets while they're way out there--and win a few converts, too, I'm sure. He wants a contingent of at least two dozen Bajorans with him. That's why I know Kajee and Lajen would be welcome to go along. I thank you for the offer, though."
She was sincere in her thanks, but maybe it didn't come out that way. Or maybe the quick blinking of his eyes and sad expression was because he was leaving Deep Space Nine. She doubted it could be anything to do with her. After all, they'd maintained a strictly professional relationship at all times on the station. That solemn look on his face couldn't be due to the reason she felt so bereft.
He stood up slowly, held out his hands, and murmured, "Thanks, Ro, for everything. For taking care of Raul and helping me find him again. And...well, walk with the Prophets, Ro Laren."
She didn't trust herself to do more than echo his closing sentiment, watching him as he receded down the hill alone; she remained on her seat on the rock as night descended around her.
She meant what she'd told him about sticking with something she'd started, but now that she was sitting on a hillside all on her own, the desire to try something new tempted her. She fingered her earring and contemplated her future. What did she want out of life? Respect in an official position? Marriage and a family? Maybe just the family without the marriage? She'd almost had that, in a way, when she'd first brought Raul to Kajee and she'd cared for him for her, eventually becoming more of a mother to him than Ro. Maybe it was fitting that Ayala and Kajee and their children go to the Delta Quadrant together. They fit together so well. Ro wasn't exactly the domestic type.
Still, it felt so bad knowing he wouldn't be around--even if it were only for eighteen months (and she didn't for a minute think that was all the time he'd be away). He had become a very good friend, as well as a valued co-worker, over the past year. More of a partner in the security office than a subordinate, as competent as he was.
Ro sighed deeply. She was shocked when there was an answering sigh from a few meters away. "Who is that?" she asked, a little more sharply than she probably should have. Ro didn't like being surprised in the night. She prided herself upon her ability to sense when someone was trying to sneak up on her.
"It's Morrow. James Morrow. Sorry if I startled you," a soft male voice stated from the enveloping darkness.
It took her a few seconds to put the name with the probable face. "The guy drowning his sorrows in Kafar at Kajee's house?" If so, that was another surprise; his voice didn't match his looks.
"Is that what they call it? Horrible stuff. I couldn't keep enough down to go on a bender no matter how hard I tried."
Ro grunted in amusement. "I can't get more than a sip down, even when Quark offers me some for free."
"Quark's the Ferengi barkeep on Deep Space Nine, right?" Morrow stepped a little closer. Although she still couldn't see his face, Ro made the connection. Like Angelo Tessoni, Morrow was one of the Equinox Five.
"That's Quark. I spend a lot of my time on the station keeping him under surveillance."
"I'll bet. Does he have anything better to drink...no. Scratch that. I don't want to even ask about that..." In spite of the darkness, she could see him hang his head.
"Anything is better to drink than Kafar. Maybe you've had more than enough to drink lately. Am I right?"
"Yeah." His reply was curt but emphatic.
"Are you going with the Ayala's and Tessoni's to this New Earth colony or embassy or whatever it is?"
He grunted derisively. "They wouldn't want me along."
"Why not? If Angelo is going, you can, too. I'm sure he could use your help building houses out there."
"I'm not much for building things. I'm more the destructive type."
"More the self-destructive type, I'd say."
"So? What's it matter to you?"
Ro jumped off the boulder and took two steps to stand in front of him. She could see his face clearly from this close, despite the gloom of night. "Nothing, really, except I've been where you are now and I know the only way to get out of it is to stop feeling sorry for yourself."
"I've heard that before."
"So, maybe you should start listening! If Ro Laren--ex-con, ex-Maquis and former screw-up--could hold on long enough to make something of herself, I'm sure you could, too."
"You didn't murder anyone."
"I wouldn't be so sure of that. People died because of me; I'd say that's close enough. The point is, you're not doing yourself any favors hanging around and drinking yourself to death. I assume that was what you were referring to a few minutes ago. If you go along on this eighteen month mission, you may find yourself again."
"The Delta Quadrant was a horror show."
"The Alpha Quadrant doesn't seem to be treating you much better," she pointed out.
He had nothing to say to that. Ro grabbed him by the arm and started marching down the hill, dragging him along with her. "I've had enough of being alone up here. Come on, let's go down to the party."
"I don't have much to celebrate," he said, but his voice no longer had the nihilistic quality it had held a few minutes before.
"I don't have much to celebrate either, to tell you the truth. I just found out I'm going to have to say good-bye to the best security officer on my staff and to his son, whom I love as much as if he were my own--not to mention assorted friends I've come to care about a lot. But those friends have something to celebrate. They're going on an adventure and they want me to wish them well, so I will. And I'll wish you well, too, if you want to go with them. Frankly, I think you should. You need to make a clean start."
"I..." His voice trailed off, as if he were so used to countering every argument made to him that he automatically tried to take the opposite view of anything, even when he wanted to agree.
Ro took pity on him. "Morrow, I can't say everything is going to turn out great for you. Who am I to know? I haven't looked into the Orb of Prophecy or the Orb of the Future in a very long time--never, as a matter of fact. I can't tell you what your fate might be. I can tell you that hanging around here feeling sorry for yourself is the best way I know of not to have a future. So take a chance. One thing about being at the bottom: you don't have much to lose, do you?"
"I guess not," he said. They were nearing the doorway, and light shining out from a window lit his face, highlighting a slight, rueful smile as he agreed with her. Smiling, his looks matched his mellow voice a lot more than the despondent look had.
By the time they reentered Kajee's house, no one was crying. Luis, Raul, and Lajen were singing a rather raucous popular song that was making the rounds of Deep Space Nine, and Ro didn't feel so bad any more. She'd find a way through this time of trouble, just as she always did. No one had ever promised her life would be easy. Good thing, too, because it certainly never had been.
But, as always, Ro found it was bearable.
*9*
Paris, Federation Diplomatic Corps, April 11
Ambassador Shuba Diaza was more than a bit disgusted. His well earned vacation on Andor had been delayed once again -- this time by a request from President M'Renn to handle a 'first contact' with a Delta Quadrant race. Only it wasn't a true first contact, as Voyager had had dealings with them years earlier.
He sighed. And in true high-handed Starfleet style, Voyager's captain had managed to make a mess of the whole thing.
Well, he'd made a career of cleaning up Starfleet's messes. These Vidiians sounded just different enough that it might be interesting. He picked up the PADD he'd been reading before his pre-tea nap. This was Starfleet for you, full of rules and regulations--which their ships and captains never actually appeared to follow. Not only had the initial contact gone badly, but he wasn't sure the most recent ones had gone much better. A pity he hadn't been there from the start. At the very least, Starfleet should have called him in months ago when a representative of the Vidiians had apparently contacted a Vulcan intermediary. Diaza wasn't terribly impressed with the Vulcan diplomatic skills either, truth be told.
He glanced back at the PADD in front of him, which detailed Voyager's various encounters with the Vidiians during the first years of its now fabled journey. Vidiia: Land of the Body Snatchers...
He shook his head. It probably hadn't been a good idea to attend the Terran Vid Festival with Ambassador Drake the other night. He'd never understood the Terran fascination with science fiction or fantasy. Contemporary holofilms were bad enough. But the material in the Festival, Drake had proudly told him, was several centuries old. Diaza had not been impressed. Two dimensional characters in a two dimensional video experience. He'd dozed off halfway through some story about sand.
He continued to read through the files, pushing the images of the movie "The Body Snatchers" out of his head. The report was poorly written--full of sensationalism and wild accusations about slave labor and organ 'harvests.' He'd yet to read an unbiased Starfleet first contact report, but this one was the absolute worst.
"Glera," he said loudly enough for his administrative assistant in the outer room to hear. "As soon as Daeja Thev arrives, show her in."
"Yes, sir," Glera responded.
He moved ahead to another report, this one detailing the structure of current Vidiian society.
"Sir," Glera said as she poked her head into his office. "Commander Daeja Thev is here."
"Excellent." Daeja entered his office.
"Ambassador," she said.
"Ah, Commander. Please, take a seat. So good of you to arrive promptly. I hope I wasn't interrupting anything?" he inquired graciously.
"Just grading papers, sir," Daeja said politely.
"Your classes are going well?"
"I have no complaints, Ambassador."
"I was wondering if you would be interested in a Sabbatical?"
"Sir?" Her antennae twitched--he hoped it was because she was interested.
"Yes, I need an attaché on my next mission--one who is very familiar with Starfleet protocols--and command styles."
Daeja looked puzzled. "I thought you were on an extended vacation, Ambassador."
He smiled. "So did I, but I was called back to deal with a most interesting diplomatic assignment." Her antennae straightened. She must have some idea what he was talking about. "I'm sure you've heard that Voyager's mission has been modified from its original parameters."
"Yes, I have, sir." She added, "Captain Janeway is a personal friend of mine."
Diaza nodded. He was already quite aware of that fact--and it was a major reason he had called Thev to his office today. "I have been asked to head the diplomatic mission, as well as govern the colony that will be established in the Delta Quadrant. It's a year long assignment, maybe longer." He cleared his throat. "Commander, you have an impressive background in both legal and diplomatic affairs--precisely the sort of skills this mission requires. I'd like you to accompany me." He said it as if she had choice, but Admiral Hayes had already approved his request.
"I understand, sir." He was sure she did--that her legal expertise wasn't the sole reason he was so eager to have her aboard. She was to act as an intermediary between Captain Janeway and himself. "Do you know when the mission will start?"
"June 25th. I believe this is after the Academy semester is over?" At her nod, he continued, "Good. We are not expected to be on board the Federation ship until twenty four hours prior to departure, but a great deal of planning and preparation for the mission must take place before then, of course. I've arranged for you to receive the daily briefings."
"Which ship will the diplomatic contingent be traveling on?"
"Pioneer, which will be transporting the colonists and their goods," Diaza said, his antennae flattening against his head in displeasure. He would have to talk to Admiral Hayes again about the ship assignment. Protocol dictated that he and his staff be assigned quarters on the flagship, which in this case would have been Voyager. Even the Odyssey would have been preferable.
"And have you already been in contact with the Vidiians, sir?"
He smiled. She was well informed, as he expected. Even though the change in Voyager's mission wasn't classified, only a few people knew the details. "I am expecting to hear from the Pathfinder people in the next couple of days. My understanding is that the Vidiians have been given the information to build the necessary equipment so we can communicate." Diplomacy was his forte--he left the engineering details to his staff. "Thank you, Commander."
Daeja bowed. "Thank you, sir. It's been a long time since I've been on a deep space mission."
***
Ten minutes later, Daeja was in her office and at her communications console. "Kathryn, you won't believe what just happened."
Kathryn Janeway smiled. "Let's see. A first year student explained the complexities of the Troilen Treaty?"
They both laughed. "No, Ambassador Diaza just asked me to join his staff. I'll be going to Delta Quadrant with you. Well, not quite with you, but on board the Pioneer."
"Just as long as it's not on Voyager," Janeway muttered. "Sorry. I haven't had much contact with the Ambassador, but I've gotten the distinct impression that he isn't very, uh, fond of me."
Daeja laughed. The feeling was obviously mutual. "It's not you, Kathryn. The Ambassador is just not particularly fond of Starfleet captains in general. He believes ensigns are better qualified for first contact missions. Their training is still fresh, so they won't do anything to soil the nest before the diplomats arrive."
This brought another laugh from Kathryn.
"This time, Kathryn, you won't be leaving the bureaucracy behind," Daeja said, only half-joking.
"I'm counting on you to protect me from the worst of it," Kathryn retorted. "Well, if you're coming along, then you no longer have any excuse not to come to Mars and see my new ship. Consider it research. I'll cook a pot roast."
"Oh no you won't," Daeja said immediately. "Not unless Chakotay is doing the cooking. Otherwise, I insist we go out for dinner." She paused. "Speaking of your ship, have you had any more problems?"
"Just some minor glitches. Nothing like the disasters we had last December."
"I heard you scared the contractors."
"According to Chakotay, that's an understatement. Actually, all I did was get rid of the civilian workers and put the fear of God in the Starfleet ones. As a result, things are going very well." She added, "If the mission parameters hadn't been changed, we would have easily made our launch date at the end of February."
"You sound impatient to get back to the Delta Quadrant."
"June isn't that far away," Kathryn looked away from the screen for a second. "I have to go. B'Elanna's ready for me down in engineering. Welcome aboard."
Daeja closed the connection and leaned back in her chair. "This could be interesting."
*10*
New Orleans, French Quarter April 15
Neelix hummed happily as he threaded his way through the crowded market, nodding and smiling at those who greeted him as he passed by. He loved New Orleans' historic French market, and tried to shop there as often as he could. He was laden with packages, the results of several satisfying bargaining sessions with his favorite vendors. He was well known to most of them at this point, not only because of his very public association with Voyager and his status as Delta Quadrant Ambassador, but also because of his growing reputation as an innovative and knowledgeable chef. He had one final purchase to make before he headed home, and he stopped in front of Madame Lafleur's booth and set down his parcels, so he would be able to choose exactly what he wanted.
"Monsieur Neelix," she greeted him with a wide smile. "Bienvenue. Welcome."
"Why thank you Madame," he responded. "Your booth looks particularly festive today." Neelix stood back to admire the array of color before him. "Those flowers -- what are they?" He asked her, pointing to a particularly striking bouquet of pink and red heart-shaped flowers on long sturdy stems.
"Ah yes," those are unusual aren't they. I am not able to get them very often these days, although they used to be more common," she told him. "They are called tropical heliconia, and those," she said pointing to another bunch beside them, "are red ginger. They are of the Zingiberaceae family. An edible root," she added, knowing without a doubt that would seal the deal.
"I'll take them," Neelix said predictably, and they both grinned. "All of them. They're perfect."
"Tres bien," she said. "I'll wrap them for you, Monsieur."
"Merci Madame," Neelix replied, as she'd taught him during one of their many exchanges.
She nodded and began to bundle the two bunches together.
"How is your husband these days?" he asked her. "Has he been traveling to the jungles recently?"
Neelix was genuinely interested. He and Sarexa had become friendly enough with the Lafleurs that they had even dined together one or two occasions. They found them to be an interesting couple, with some fascinating stories to tell about their search for unusual flowers in some very exotic locations.
"Not so much any more, he has finally found a reliable supplier who is able to send us blooms like these on a more regular basis," she replied, and pulled a long piece of sturdy brown paper out from under the counter. "And your lovely wife? How is she?"
"She's fine, Madame. She'll be home later this evening. She's been doing some teaching at one of the preparatory colleges in the northeast. I'm very proud of her," he added.
"And is it a special occasion, Monsieur?" she asked as she worked.
"Yes indeed, Madame," he replied. "I have some exciting news, and these flowers will definitely add color to our celebration." He paused, obviously waiting for her next question.
"Can you share, Monsieur?" she asked him, knowing he would.
"I've finally got an official assignment," Neelix told her excitedly. "And it's the best one I could ever have hoped for."
She stopped her work and waited for him to continue. "I...we...are being sent back to the Delta Quadrant on the new ship..."
"Ah, yes...the second Voyager. I saw a feature on it on last week's news vid."
"And I, as Ambassador, will of course be part of the official delegation."
"Well congratulations, Monsieur, and bon chance," Madame Lafleur said as she handed him his package.
"Thank you Madame," he replied. "Thank you very much," he placed the bouquet carefully into one of his bags. "I'll see you again next week, though," he said as he picked up his parcels, and prepared to leave. "Perhaps you can find me some of those Birds of Paradise again. Sarexa really liked them. And they lasted a long time."
"I'll see what I can do Monsieur," she replied. "Enjoy the flowers -- and your celebration," she added.
But Neelix had already disappeared into the crowd.
*11*
San Francisco, Starfleet Academy Dormitory Complex, April 22
"Hey!"
At the sound of her roommate's voice, Naomi looked up from her desk. Joanne Freunde was in a clean uniform, but her long red hair flowed in a loose and definitely non-regulation cascade down her back. Joanne was an acceptable roommate, but she was really quite vain about her hair. The fact that she was showing it off meant that she was going out. "Where are you headed?" Naomi asked.
"A bunch of us are going to catch the new Ryan Ralston holoflick and then get a drink. Want to come?"
Naomi shook her head. She didn't share the obsession with the young actor that afflicted so many of her classmates. "Thanks anyway. I need to finish this letter to my folks."
Joanne shrugged. "Whatever." Flinging her hair artistically over her shoulder, she left.
Naomi returned to blank monitor that she had been staring at for twenty minutes. With a small sigh, she began dictating.
"Hi, Mom and Dad," she began. "I'm glad to hear everything is going well at the new station. You're right, I was worried about you, but not so much because of the distance. Mostly I was worried that things weren't as settled in the Gamma Quadrant as we'd been told. It sounds like the Founders are living up to their end of the treaty, though. I'm glad Operations got the problem with your quarters straightened out. Why would anyone design living quarters directly beneath the main generator room, anyway? And why would they ever give them to someone with a brand new baby?
"Oh - thanks for the picture." Naomi opened a new screen to look again at the image of her new little sister, taken only moments after birth. The little face was flushed but instead of crying, she seemed to be looking around with a great deal of curiosity. "She's really beautiful, isn't she? I can't tell if those are horns forming on her forehead, or just her fingers at a weird angle. And I like all the names you mentioned, except one. I don't care if it is your grandmother's name, Mom, you just can't name her Wilma Wildman. She'd never live it down.
"A lot has been happening here. Not to me. All I do is go to class, or to Archery practice, or to the library to study. It's Voyager I'm talking about. Or rather, the Delta Quadrant Task Force. Have you heard about it? There are three ships going back to the Delta Quadrant, and one of them is Voyager II. Captain Janeway is going to lead the task force, and a lot of our old shipmates are going with her. A few, like Harry Kim, would be on the other escort ship, the Odyssey. The third ship, the Pioneer, is carrying a load of colonists who will settle on New Earth. I don't really remember that place, Mom, but perhaps you do."
She stopped, and drew a single, slow breath. "The thing is, Neelix and Sarexa are going with them. They just couldn't turn down the chance to get back to Talaxia. I can't blame them, really."
Her voice was starting to waver, so she paused the recording. When her parents had told her that they were taking a posting in the Gamma Quadrant, they had promised her that Neelix would still be there for her. Neelix had told her the very same thing. He had cried when he told her he was leaving, and Naomi had cried with him. She felt very much alone. All the adults she loved were at least a full quadrant away.
But she was a Starfleet cadet now, and by every standard that counted, an adult herself. She was too grown up to cry about it. The problem was, she didn't feel like an adult. She felt like a little girl.
Dashing a renegade tear off her cheek, she continued. "Don't worry about me, though. Admiral and Mrs. Paris told me I can consider their house my home during breaks and stuff, and that I can count on them. I'll be fine. It's just -- I'll miss everyone. I wish I was old enough to go with them."
That sounded just a little too self-pitying, and she stopped again to regroup. Find the silver lining, she told herself. Mrs. Paris said there was always a silver lining if you just looked hard enough.
Well, Icheb had been paying a lot more attention to her since Neelix broke the news. He'd even broken a date with Mialla to take her to his parents' house for dinner. She had a feeling, though, that her mother wouldn't regard that as a silver lining. Probably better not to mention it, she decided.
"The thing is, I'm okay," she said as she resumed recording. "We're really busy and Icheb and Griff are making sure I don't get lonely. We start the practical for the survival course next week, which means I won't have much chance to think about anything but which bugs are edible and which aren't for a while.
"I miss you guys. I think about you and the baby a lot. You have to show her my picture every day and tell her about her big sister. Take care of her, and of each other, and stay safe. I love you."
She ended the recording and leaned back in her chair. It was only 20:00 hours, and she was caught up on all her studies. Maybe she could catch up with Joanne and the others after all.
Her comm channel sounded, and she hit the "accept" control. Suddenly she was looking at Icheb. "Are you busy?" he asked. His face was slightly flushed, and he was speaking rapidly.
"Not really. What's the matter?"
"I just got tickets to Dr. Fanari's lecture on genetic reconstruction," he said. "It starts in twenty minutes. Do you want to go?"
"You're kidding," she breathed. Ganal Fenari was the leading genetics researcher on Adigeon Prime, a neutral world that permitted genetic manipulation. His lecture at Starfleet Academy had been offered to faculty and upperclassmen first, and had immediately filled. Icheb had been despondent. "How did you get the tickets?"
"Thank your roommate," he said. "Joanne convinced a couple of seniors that they'd have better luck with her group tonight than the lecture. Donello gave me his tickets."
"I'm there," she said. "Meet you in the lobby in two minutes."
Smiling, he nodded as he closed the link. As soon as the screen was dark, Naomi realized that he had called her, not Mialla.
Things were definitely looking up.
*12*
Mars Colony, May 7
Jenny Delaney slid to a stop in front of the nurse's station, not caring that her uniform was terribly rumpled. The way she had rushed out the door when she heard the news, it was a wonder she wasn't half-naked. "My sister was just admitted--where can I find her?"
The nurse looked up from her computer. "Who is your sister?"
"Megan Delaney."
"I'll have to check," the nurse said.
"Jenny!" Jenny looked up and smiled as her brother hurried over. The nurse glanced at him and returned to her work.
"Robbie!" She hugged him quickly. "Where's Megan? Have you seen her? How is she?"
Robbie chuckled. "Relax, she's going to be just fine."
"What happened?"
"She broke her hip. She's in surgery now, but we should be able to see her soon." He propelled her toward a waiting area. "Come on, have a seat."
Jenny relaxed. "Mom was so incoherent. I thought for sure--"
Robbie shook his head. "You know how Mom can get sometimes. I know she's very worried, but Megan's going to be all right. Really."
"Mom told me she's on her way here," Jenny said. "I thought for sure if she's cutting her vacation to Risa short, it must be serious."
"Megan will probably be climbing again before Mom arrives." Robbie said. "Even if she could commandeer the Enterprise, the trip to Mars would still take several days."
Jenny exhaled deeply. "Just a broken hip? Megan had much worse injuries on Voyager."
"I'm sure both of you were hurt a lot worse than this on more than one occasion," Robbie agreed. He squeezed her hand. "Which is why Mom is reacting the way she is now."
Jenny didn't argue. "I have three days leave," she said, changing the subject.
"So the two of you should be able to spend some together. That's good." Robbie glanced at the chronometer on the wall. "They should be coming to tell us that she's out of surgery soon. So, did you receive your new assignment yet?"
Jenny shook her head as she sat down. "I don't graduate from Command School for another two months. I have put in a couple of requests, but I don't expect to hear anything for at least several more weeks. But enough about me. How are your classes going, Professor Delaney?"
"I'm enjoying teaching," he said, ignoring the jibe. "And wait till you hear this--the department head informed me last week that we're going to have our own fully equipped Astrometrics lab, based on your designs from Voyager. We just received permission from Starfleet."
Jenny raised an eyebrow. "That only took a little over twelve months. You must know someone."
He laughed. "The dean is Admiral Nechayev's second cousin twice remove or something like that--but actually I think it was because I wrote an excellent proposal. I can't wait."
She grinned. "Megan will be thrilled too." Jenny jumped when a doctor appeared to be heading their way, but then kept on going past without slowing down. Robbie shook his head.
"They'll let us know. Dr. Jolson said she'd come find me." He took her hand. "Megan was alert and conscious when they brought her in."
"How could you have let her go climbing alone?" Jenny asked accusingly.
He shrugged. "Just because she's staying at my apartment doesn't mean I'm responsible for keeping on an eye on her at all times--besides, she's a big girl now." Jenny had to smile at that. It was a line they'd used in protest against their parents many times when they were children. "And I'm not so sure she was alone."
"Dr. Delaney?" a woman asked as she approached them.
Robbie and Jenny looked up, then stood. "Dr. Jolson, my other sister Lieutenant Commander Jenny Delaney," he said with some pride. Jenny didn't bother to correct him. Technically, her promotion wouldn't go into effect until after she completed Command School. "How is Megan?"
"She's out of surgery and will be awake soon. The damage was not as bad as we feared--she's lucky her fiancé is an intern and knew exactly what to do--"
"Fiancé?" Robbie and Jenny asked in unison.
Jenny looked at Robbie, wondering that he seemed to be as completely in the dark as she was. "What fiancé?" she asked.
"Oh dear." Dr. Jolson blushed. "I seem to have spoken out of turn. Your sister's, ahem, climbing partner stabilized the injury right away so there were minimal complications."
"Right, no complications," Jenny said meaningfully.
Dr. Jolson said quickly, "I'll let you know when you can see her."
Within half an hour they were standing by Megan's bed. "Hello, sister," Jenny said as grabbed Megan's hands. "Don't scare me again like this."
"You should be used to it by now," Megan retorted. She tried to pull back but Jenny held on to her left hand.
"Now, now, what do we have here?" Jenny said as she pointed to a sapphire ring on her sister's finger. "Robbie, you notice anything different about Megan?"
"You mean aside from her hip?" Robbie said as he started laughing.
"A broken hip seems to be the least of your surprises today. Who is this guy? Is he any good?"
Megan was bright red. "Jenny!"
Robbie turned to walk out. "My dear sisters, I don't want to know," he said from the door.
"Shut up, Robbie and get back over here," Jenny said in her best command voice. "We'll skip that last question--for the moment." Jenny's grin turned wicked. "You can give me all those details--later. But I'm sure we'd both like to know who our future brother-in-law is." Robbie nodded obediently.
"His name is Rick. He's a doctor here." Megan blushed. "Why do you think I've visited Robbie on Mars so often these past two months?"
Robbie laughed. "I had hoped it was because you enjoyed my company. I didn't realize you were sneaking off to the med center every chance you got." He paused and furrowed his brow. "Rick? Richard Marley?" Megan nodded.
"Who's this Richard Marley?" Jenny asked.
"My fiancé," Megan said with a satisfied smile. "Don't you have a ship to command?"
"Not yet." Jenny grinned.
"Robbie, how's the new Astrometrics lab?" Megan asked as she finally pulled her hand away.
"Megan," Jenny began, "you are avoiding the issue."
Megan rolled her eyes. "Very well. Rick is an intern here--as soon as he completes his residency, we're getting married."
Jenny shook her head in disbelief and surprise. This was her sister...the one who had sworn to remain single for life.
"He has a twin brother in Starfleet, by the way," Megan added. "He's currently stationed on the Amadeus."
Jenny groaned. "Oh, no you don't, Megan! I know how your mind works. Don't start playing matchmaker...I like being single."
Megan rolled her eyes. "Fine. Now, when do I get to leave this place? Hospitals give a whole new meaning to the word boring."
"Unless your fiancé is here, you mean?" Jenny asked with a knowing look.
"They said something about letting you out in another few hours," Robbie said. "Once all your biosigns are back to normal. But you're supposed to avoid strenuous exercise--" he blushed when both sisters snickered, "--stop that! For at least a week. It's probably a good idea to remain in bed...Oh never mind," he said, raising his voice over their giggling. "You two are hopeless."
"Now that I know you'll live," Jenny said, "I have seventy-two hours for you to show me the sights. Start planning where we're going to go tomorrow."
"There are some lovely mountains to climb," Megan said. "But are you sure you came all this way just to see me?" She pointed toward the ceiling. "I believe Voyager II is up there. Maybe you could stop by and say hello to some old friends."
"Perhaps I will," Jenny said non-committedly. "More importantly, when do I get to meet this Rick?"
"Tomorrow