by Christina and Penny Proctor
Brilliant orange and red flames spiraled and swirled upward, feeding on the buildings in its path. Denara Pel stood on the hill, mesmerized by the blossoming flames. She'd never seen anything like it. Flames magically appeared blocks from the fire, caused by sparks carried by the fire-generated winds. Chaos ruled in the streets as panicked residents fled to the nearby park, to any open space that might be safe. Amazingly, it was only an hour since she had been among them, fleeing for her own life.
Denara stared at the wild scene below her, her arms hanging at her sides. She shivered as another vortex of flames spiraled upward. The memory of her apartment building exploding into flame as she'd run out the door now seem oddly distant, almost as if it had happened to someone else.
"Denara," Dr. Krazel Lem, her assistant, said quietly as he placed a hand on her shoulder. "The first victims are coming in."
She nodded blankly. Her home for the past six years--everything she owned--was lost. All she had now were the clothes she was wearing. "Dr. Pel?"
The voice of her assistant cut through the fog of her brain. She blinked. "Patients?"
"Yes, Dr. Pel." She let him guide him her away from the cliff edge overlooking the southern districts of Vidalia, the political capital of Vidiia.
"Do you know if the clinic is in the path of the fire?" she asked without hope as they walked toward what was going to become a makeshift triage unit and morgue. She knew their outreach clinic was gone--everything in the neighborhood was gone. The fire made it bright enough in the predawn light for her to believe that the entire district was doomed.
"Denara, we'll survive." He stopped walking. "Are you all right?"
"I'll be okay. You?"
"Fine," he said it flatly. He wasn't any better than she was. "More survivors are arriving."
"You set up triage. Press any of the uninjured--anyone who can help--into service. We're going to need bandages, water...especially water."
"I've already started. Captain Por is helping to coordinate. Additional medical help is being called in from outside Vidalia. Water is going to be a problem. The district tower was makeshift, remember? It burned to the ground." He pointed in the general direction of where the temporary water tower had once stood. "They're bringing in water trucks, but apparently there's some problem accessing the main aquifer."
She nodded numbly as she surveyed the site. Someone had erected a large tent. "We'll need tables. And some means of heating water when we get it." She grimaced when he frowned. No, they wouldn't be allowed to start a fire, even to boil water. "Explain why sterile equipment is necessary--especially with burns. An ultraviolet source would also work. Or . Or cerritonol if there's nothing else." She broke into a run when she noticed the Vidalia City Guard arriving, bearing stretchers.
"Dr. Pel?" a burly Vidiian female in the gray uniform of the City Guard asked. "If you would follow me. I'm Captain Por."
"How bad is the fire?"
"I haven't heard anything official," Por said, "but I've heard most of the Meyel district is up in flames. They've started demolishing buildings to create a firebreak near the Horspant Hospital. We should be safe here, the prevailing wind is blowing the fire toward the lake."
Meyel and Horspant, she thought, two of the poorest districts in Vidalia--the planetary capital of Vidiia. Too many temporary wooden shelters and not enough enforcement of the building codes. Too many desperate refugees looking for work and a cure for all their woes...just too many and not enough...
She took a deep breath--she had a job to do, there would be time later to think. "What do we have?"
"So far two burn cases and a sprained ankle. We've put them in the hospital tent. My troops are also working on finding tents to provide temporary shelter for the survivors. What kind of help will you require?"
"Other medical personnel? Equipment?" Captain Por shook her head, so Denara continued, "Dr. Lem is setting up a triage." They both glanced back at the fire. "Find me anybody who wants to help; anybody who is healthy." Por pulled the flap of the tent back and Denara walked over to her first patient.
***
Captain Kathryn Janeway wondered at the irony as she entered the transporter room. The last time she'd gone into the Ocampan underground city had been to find two missing crewmembers, angry that they'd been taken in the first place. Chakotay and Tom had been with her then. She would have liked them to accompany her now, but...
Ambassador Shuba Diaza's antennae twitched, a sign, she'd learned on their journey, of his impatience. Fortunately, the arrival of the rest of the away team cut off any comment he might have made.
Not that she lacked comments of her own. Her original plans had been overruled by the ambassador with very little explanation. She had intended to have Tom, Dr. Zimmerman, and Chakotay accompany her, on the theory that familiar faces would provide welcoming reassurance to the Ocampans. Instead, Diaza had exercised his authority over diplomatic contacts and decreed that the landing party would be the ambassador, Daeja Thev and two security guards--and Captain Janeway, if she insisted.
It could be worse, she thought. We could have Prolak with us, too. The Romulan observer had asked to come, but Diaza had found some elaborately polite way to say no. At least Prolak could take that up with him.
On the other hand, she probably would still have to argue with the Andorian about her decision to send the Pioneer to New Earth to begin preliminary surveying, ahead of the rest of the fleet. She wanted Odyssey and Voyager here, at yellow alert, since the Kazon were still a force in the sector (even if the intelligence reports supplied by the Vidiians and Kes indicated little activity in the immediate region) Suddenly she wondered if Diaza had plans to negotiate with the Kazon.
"At least he allowed you along," Daeja Thev whispered. Kathryn just nodded. She suspected that Ambassador Shuba Diaza would have preferred her to remain on the ship.
"Captain," the young ensign at the transporter console said. "We've received confirmation of your destination. I've entered the coordinates."
"Very good." Kathryn glanced around then motioned everyone to step onto the transporter pads. She rather hoped Diaza's frown was because the ensign had spoken to her and ignored him. When everyone was in place, she nodded.
The five reappeared in an enormous underground chamber. It was larger than she remembered. And much more crowded. She'd known the Ocampan population was increasing, but she'd not known by how much. No wonder they were looking for a new world.
"Captain!!!" Kathryn suddenly found herself on the receiving end of a bear hug. For a moment, she couldn't see who it was, but the voice was unmistakable.
"Kes," she said, returning the embrace, but carefully. The bones beneath her hands felt frail, and the body too thin.
The Ocampan stepped back. Her hair was thin and white, her skin wrinkled, but the eyes were still bright--and filled with apprehension. Still, her smile was welcoming. "Oh, it's so good to see you again."
"And you," Kathryn replied without hesitation. This was the Kes she remembered, the sweet soul and trusted friend. The unfortunate incident when she returned to Voyager was clearly an aberration. She smiled and was pleased to see Kes relax.
The potentially awkward moment over, Kathryn became formal once again. "This is Ambassador Shuba Diaza and his attaché, Commander Daeja Thev."
"And I'd like to introduce counsel members Vestris and Mairel," Kes answered.
Shuba Diaza stepped forward and bowed politely before council member Vestris. "I wish to thank you for your generous invitation to the Federation to assist in your relocation. I hope this is going to be the start of a warm relationship..."
Kes nodded at him, but turned to Kathryn. "Couldn't the Doctor or Neelix come?"
Kathryn adopted her poker face as Diaza took over the diplomatic conversation. Annoying as he was, she couldn't afford to antagonize the ambassador. "Neelix and the Doctor are on the ship. They can't wait to see you." That was something else the ambassador had objected to, Neelix and Sarexa's transferring to Voyager.
"How is Neelix?" Kes asked. Janeway frowned at the question, as she wondered just what to tell her.
"He's fine." Janeway hesitated, then added diffidently, "He brought his wife." She relaxed when Kes's smile grew bigger.
"I'm so glad he found someone."
Impulsively, she took both of Kes's hands in her own. "Her name is Sarexa, and she's Talaxian. One of the survivors from a Borg ship we rescued."
"I'd heard you destroyed the Borg."
"We don't know for sure how much damage we did." Kathryn wondered just how Kes had known that--but felt compelled not to ask--at least not in the presence of others.
Kes nodded, then stepped back. "Captain, I'd like to apologize..."
"Kes, I understand." Whatever else Kes was going to say was cut off by a cough. They returned their attention to Ambassador Diaza. "Ambassador?"
"Captain Janeway," he said in a flat voice. "It's so good of you to pay attention to these proceedings. We will be meeting with the Ocampan Council now. If you would care to attend?"
"Captain Janeway," Mairel said with a polite bow. "We have heard so much about you."
Thank you," she replied. She guessed he was three or four years old, a thought that suddenly gave her pause. It seemed strange to think that of all the Ocampa present, it was likely that only Kes had been alive when Voyager had first visited this planet.
"Does it seem much changed since you were here?" Mairel asked as they walked toward one of the tunnels leading away from the chamber.
"Yes. A lot has changed."
"As you can see, our population is growing," Kes said. "The supplies and energy the Caretaker left us are running out."
"How did he expect you to survive once they ran out?" Kathryn had puzzled over this for years.
"He didn't," Kes said angrily. "Which is why he deliberately repressed our fertility, so our species would slowly become extinct over time." Kathryn looked at her curiously, and Kes took a quick breath before she resumed speaking in a much quieter voice. "I can't believe it was mere chance that our food supplies were contaminated with a compound that suppressed our fertility. Is it coincidence that as we've had to raise and eat more and more of our own food, our life spans have also increased?"
With a discreet cough, Diaza turned and glared at Kathryn. She didn't have to be a telepath to know he was displeased with the course of the conversation. Then, apparently satisfied that he had made his point, he quite deliberately moved closer to Vestris and several other council members who'd joined the group.
At the same time, two of the Ocampan councilors glanced at Kes with a look of dismay. Kes bowed her head politely. "I'm being reminded that this not part of today's agenda. I'll fill you in later."
Janeway nodded, and then quickly changed the topic--to a safer one, she hoped. "Have you heard from Dr. Pel?"
"I contacted her about a month ago. She has made progress in her research, even if she is feeling frustrated by her sponsors. She finds their need for profit to be..." Kes looked straight at ambassador Diaza "...annoying."
It took some effort for Kathryn to suppress a smile. The years had fallen away, and the rapport she and Kes had shared before was as strong as ever. "I look forward to seeing her when we arrive at Vidiia."
"She'll be delighted." Kes frowned, her brow knitting with worry. "Her sponsors remind me of the Caretaker--seemingly full of good intentions, but with a purpose of their own."
Kes didn't continue their conversation, but Janeway wondered. The Caretaker had been arrogant--and truly had believed his Ocampa *children* would not survive without his presence.
She smiled. She almost wished she could tell the Caretaker, 'I told you so.'
Not only were the Ocampa surviving, they were thriving.
***
About 400 light years from the Ocampan homeworld, Molan Var scratched his Phage scarred ear in frustration. They were behind in ore production, again. But there wasn't much he could do about it; not with a quarter of his workforce in the hospital and his superiors unable (or was it unwilling, he wasn't sure which) to provide more miners. The cure of the Phage had resulted in a sharp decrease in his supply of Vidiians and other 'volunteers' to work the mines.
"Well," he muttered, "it was a good thing while it lasted." It really had been. He had accumulated a substantial fortune during his thirty years with the mines. He hoped to retire soon--before anyone, especially his superiors, became too curious how he had accumulated his wealth.
He returned his attention to the report from his superiors. He didn't understand their concern with this Federation. What was it, anyway? So the Vidiian Sodality planned to get a new ally. If Molan Var, who kept a vigilant eye on the ever-shifting balance of power in this part of space, had never heard of it, the Federation couldn't be much of a threat. He believed that his superiors were too concerned about this alliance, and losing their perspective. The lack of new miners was the crisis--this development was only a possible problem.
He growled softly at the sharp knock at his door. He had given explicit orders he wasn't to be disturbed for a full hour: he had ten more minutes. "Enter," he called out angrily.
His aide, Waltett Wom, entered. "Sir, two of the hospital patients are missing."
"Missing?" He frowned. Unauthorized departures, while uncommon, did happen. They were an inconvenience and took time away from more important things. "Organize search parties and find them." He started to return to his reports, but Wom wasn't leaving. He looked up again. "Is there something else?"
Wom hesitated. "Yes, sir. One of the small transports is missing."
"A transport?" Var screamed, jumping to his feet. He had only five of the small craft designed to haul light equipment over comparatively short distances--so old they were barely useful, but he wasn't likely to get any more. "Organize a planetary search and get the every ship we've got up and looking for them." Wom backed away as Var marched toward the door. "Order a lockdown of all miners. I want a complete report--and the heads of those who let them escape."
"Yes, sir!" Wom followed Var out the door.
"And," Var said once they were outside. He sneezed several times as the constant wind pushed dust up his nose, and then dragged his forearm across his face to clean the mess. "Get me a clear link to Vidiia."
"Sir, those patients will be dead in days--if they aren't already."
Var shook his head, wondering how anyone could be that stupid. "Tell me, Wom--if the missing miners are discovered, what do you think will happen?"
He nodded at the look of enlightenment in Wom's eyes. "I understand, sir."
Neelix shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and cleared his throat. "Uh, how much longer?"
Before the transporter chief could answer, Tuvok replied. "We don't know the answer to that any more than we did when you last asked, seventy seconds ago. They will beam up when they are ready."
"But I thought they were ready ages ago," he said. "Look. The flowers are already starting to wilt." He held up the bouquet of pink roses and white miniature carnations for inspection.
"The flowers are fine," Dr. Zimmerman told him. "But you seem to be the one who is wilting." He added gently, "If you prefer, we can bring Kes to your quarters after she's settled in."
"No!" Neelix looked up in alarm. "I want to welcome her aboard. It's just--it's taking so long. I wish they'd beam up already." He turned to the transporter chief. "Any word?"
"We're on standby," the young man said.
Neelix began to shift his weight again. He stopped when he actually swayed into Tuvok. The First Officer regarded him carefully. "Where is Sarexa?" Tuvok asked. "I expected her to join you."
"Yes," the EMH added. "She's usually such a calming influence for you."
"I'm calm." Neelix nodded and waved his hands vigorously. "I'm perfectly calm. Why do you think I'm not calm?"
"The flowers," Tuvok murmured. "Be careful of the flowers."
Neelix looked down to see pink petals littering the deck near his feet, and realized he had been swinging the bouquet like a club. Lowering his arms, he said, "Well, I might be just a little nervous."
"There's the signal," the transporter chief said. "The Ocampan party is beaming up first."
With a deep breath, Neelix drew himself erect and waited as five transporter pads activated. Time seemed to slow as the figures gradually materialized. He could immediately pick out the silhouettes of Captain Janeway and Ambassador Diaza, but he could not distinguish the three Ocampans.
Then they were there, whole once again. Kes stood on the center pad in the front of the chamber. His heart leapt into his throat. The woman he saw was white-haired, wrinkled and unspeakably frail, and yet she was still his Kes. There was no mistaking the lively blue eyes, the elegant ears, or the classic beauty that was still evident beneath the wrinkled skin.
Her eyes met his almost at once, and her smile--oh, that wonderful smile--was untouched by time. "Neelix," she said. Her voice was exactly the same as he remembered, low and melodic and warm. She stepped off the transporter and opened her arms. "It's so good to see you."
He swallowed. "And you." When she hugged him tightly, he had no choice but to return the embrace. She fit as well as she ever did, but it was different. She felt fragile and insubstantial compared to his memory. Or perhaps he'd just become accustomed to something else.
Forgetting everything except Kes, he touched her cheek tenderly. "You haven't changed a bit," he lied.
Her smile was the same as ever, though. "Of course I have," she said. "And so have you--but only on the outside. You're still the same Neelix inside, aren't you?"
How could he be so happy and so sad at the same time? Just seeing Kes, touching her again, was so sweet it was almost unbearable. Yet, at the same time, it filled him with renewed regrets for what might have been. "If you say so," he said quietly. "You always saw the best in me."
It might have been his imagination, but he thought he saw just a hint of regret in her eyes. Then she squeezed his arms lightly and her expression changed, becoming more formal. Neelix realized the moment was over. They were back in real time, in the transporter room, and not alone. Definitely not alone...
"What a pleasant surprise. I wasn't expecting a welcoming committee," Ambassador Diaza said. There was no missing the sarcasm in his voice.
Kes didn't bother to look at his as she spoke. "I'm most appreciative, Ambassador. These are the three men who changed my life." She turned to the EMH. "Dr. Zimmerman. You finally have a name."
"Don't I get a hug?" the EMH asked, almost shyly.
"Always," she said quietly, and embraced him almost as tenderly as she had Neelix. Almost, but not quite, Neelix thought with some satisfaction. "You must tell me how it came to be."
The Doctor opened his mouth, but he noted Diaza's stony gaze and Janeway's quick shake of the head and closed it. Then he said, "We'll have plenty of time to catch up."
She rolled her eyes back, toward Diaza, and Neelix knew she understood. With a smile, she turned to Tuvok and raised her hand in a proper Vulcan greeting. "Tuvok, I am pleased to see you again."
Returning the gesture, he said solemnly, "And I you. My wife sends her greetings."
Wife? Neelix gulped, remembering. "Oh, my wife does, too. And these are for you." He thrust the flowers at her. The brief awkwardness passed when he saw her delight in the bouquet. "Welcome home, Kes."
She buried her nose in the blooms, breathing deeply. "My favorites. Thank you."
Was it possible--were those tears he saw in her eyes? His own eyes felt misty. "It's nothing. It's just a small way of saying how much we missed you."
Captain Janeway stepped forward, gesturing the others to step off the transporter pad. "We need to have introductions all the way around, but let's bring the rest of the party up first."
Kes dashed an unashamed hand across one eye. "Yes, of course. I'm sorry to hold things up. It's just--" she cradled the bouquet tightly "--so wonderful to be back."
***
Harry Kim sat down in the *big chair* with a small smile. With Captain La Forge on Voyager with the diplomatic team and Commander Lavelle off duty, he had command of the Odyssey for the next six hours. He glanced up at the viewscreen. Ironic, he thought as he studied the planet that filled the screen. The last time he'd seen Ocampa, he hadn't wanted to be there, and the Kazon had wanted Voyager there even less. Surprisingly, debris that testified to the Kazon's attitude was still orbiting the system's sun. He'd figured scavengers would have carted it off long ago.
"Do a long range sweep of the sector," he ordered. "And repeat every half hour." The young ensign at the tactical station affirmed the order with a bored expression. Perhaps it was unnecessary, but Harry didn't want unexpected visitors--like the Kazon--to drop in for a visit. And truth be told, it was also an excuse to avoid the diplomatic dinner on Voyager. He was more than a little tired of Ambassador Diaza's constant nitpicking. Even Captain La Forge had looked like he wanted an excuse to stay away.
He glanced away from the viewscreen to pick up the PADD with the previous shift's reports.
"Interesting," Ensign Smith muttered.
"Ensign?" Harry looked up and saw the young officer frowning.
"I'm detecting...This can't be right...Sir."
"Let's see. Transfer the data to my station." Harry studied the incoming data. He shivered as he recognized it. "It's Vidiian."
"Vidiian, sir?" Ensign Smith asked. His eyes opened a little wider at the name. "Whatever it is, the signal is repeating, sir."
"An automated beacon. See if you can clean it up. I want to know what it is before I wake up Commander Lavelle."
***
"I can't right now, Neelix," Sarexa said without putting down the bowl she was holding. "I'm in the middle of making trifle."
"Trifle?" He frowned. "Sarexa, sweeting. It really isn't appropriate for the wife of the Talaxian Ambassador to help with the reception dinner."
"But I promised Ensign Murphy a trifle. He needs cheering up."
Neelix snorted. It was more likely Commander Torres who needed cheering up. He wondered what Murphy had done this time. At least the engines were still working.
"He was here while you were with Commander Tuvok. He was very depressed." She turned away to put the bowl on the counter.
Neelix shrugged, wondering just why his wife seemed a bit nervous. "The Captain and the Ocampa delegation should be arriving soon. We should be there to meet them. The Ocampa are very nice. You'll like them."
She smiled at him--it seemed to him to be a bit forced. "You meet them, while I finish the trifle. And is it really inappropriate for me to help with the reception dinner? Neelix, for months I've had very little to do. I'd like to help with the dinner."
"Sarexa..." Suddenly the pieces fell into place, and he hesitated. "It's Kes, isn't it?"
"Of course not," she answered quickly. Too quickly.
He watched Sarexa as she went back to work. Tom had warned him that wives sometimes became nervous around their husbands' ex-girlfriends. Neelix had hoped this wouldn't be true, but now he wondered. He decided to change the subject.
"I'm hoping we will be able to go to Talaxia." He was pleased when Sarexa visibly relaxed at the change in subject.
"I'd like to see if any of my family survived," Sarexa said with a smile.
She has such a beautiful smile, Neelix thought.
"Now go," she went on firmly. "It wouldn't do for the Talaxian Ambassador to be late. Go. Before you have to hurry." Neelix was half-way to the lift, before he realized that Sarexa had managed to avoid meeting the Ocampans--and Kes. Diaza might frown upon a diplomat's wife avoiding her duties, but Neelix found some of the pomp surrounding their circumstance too much--and he knew Sarexa was even more uncomfortable with it. Besides, the Andorian treated them coldly--and had only grudgingly discussed the most trivial details of their mission. He could hardly blame his wife for trying to avoid more of the same.
***
Denara Pel looked up, hoping the knock at the office door meant an emergency requiring immediate attention. Anything to get away from the two representatives of Mupano Industries who sat opposite her with their neatly piled reports at their side, and their fixed smiles of mannequins and voices that never varied in their unmodulated pleasantness. As the sponsor of the Clinic and of her research, she expected to report to the company periodically on her progress. She had originally hoped to do that in writing, but they had always come in person before. This time she'd been asked to come to the main headquarters of Mupano Industries, so they could 'explore' the ramifications of last week's fire. . Ramifications indeed. The clinic had suffered severe smoke and water damage--but somehow the basic shell of the building had miraculously survived. It would be weeks before they could reopen for patients, though.
Fortunately, she was meticulous in her record keeping and needed only a few moments to present all the documentation. The two-hour inquisition that followed, though, was unlike anything she had ever experienced. While Lendar Klim was merely annoying, the aloof politeness of Mupano Industries' Chief Financial Officer, Tycos Indorin, chilled her. Eventually she realized that they weren't interested in her answers at all. They were there to deliver a message and her responses were irrelevant.
Klim had been very explicit in what Mupano wanted: to open a second clinic, but this time for wealthier clients. In fact, they were already renovating a site that was almost ready to open. Denara was in favor of another clinic--but one for the people who could not otherwise afford care. They listened politely as she explained her position, and then restated theirs. And so it had gone for two hours.
She was tired from sleeping on a cot in her office since the fire, she was rumpled from wearing the same lab coat for a week and as far as she was concerned, there was no reason for the meeting to go any longer.
So the knock at the door came as a welcome interruption, and Denara could only hope it signaled the end of this interview. Lendar Klim stood. "I'll tell them to return this afternoon." She went to the door.
Denara's attention drifted away from the endless reports. There was nothing wrong in her accounts; even Klim had said so.
"I'm sorry, Dr. Pel is in an important meeting," Klim said.
"Not that important," Denara muttered to herself.
"My orders come directly from President Dop himself. Dr. Denara Pel is to report to Sodality Hall immediately." Stunned, Denara turned to see who the speaker was. Why had the President sent a member of the Vidalia City Guard? And why had they bothered to track her down?
Rising, she faced the Mupano representatives. "We can continue this discussion later," she said, suddenly hoping it was true. Perhaps she was being arrested. She couldn't think of any other reason the President would send armed officers for her.
"Perhaps when you are next available," Tycos Indorin said with the same fixed smile he had worn all day. As he closed his briefcase, though, she thought she saw a flicker of something change in his expression.
Denara hesitated. The brief look in Indorin's eyes suggested he knew something, but what? Had they trumped up some charges against her? No, that was ridiculous.
***
"So," Jenny Delaney asked her commanding officer quietly, "what do you think so far?"
Geordi La Forge looked around the Captain's dining room on Voyager, taking in the details of the reception for the Ocampan delegation. "To be honest," he said, pitching his voice low enough to be certain it didn't carry, "it's like most diplomatic affairs--tastefully decorated, flawlessly catered, and completely dull. Ambassador Diaza has outdone himself."
"Oh, yes, watch out for the ambassador," she said demurely. "He's prowling the room, hunting for the first sign of enjoyment. He wants to make certain it doesn't spread."
Geordi was barely able to convert his laugh into a discreet cough. Although Captain Janeway was the official host of the evening, Diaza was making it clear this was his function. According to Janeway, he had changed the menu, changed the music, and pared the guest list to eliminate most of the Starfleet personnel. The Federation was represented by two senior officers from Voyager, two from Odyssey, and Diaza and the two members of his staff. "I don't think he trusts us to talk to the Ocampans unsupervised."
"Yeah." Jenny looked around. Every time one of the Ocampans tried to strike up a conversation with one of the Starfleet personnel, one of the diplomats joined them. She looked across the room just in time to see Gleb, Diaza's aide, almost trip in his hurry to horn himself into a discussion between Kes and Commander Tuvok. "If I were the suspicious type, I'd be thinking that Commander Lavelle's illness was awfully convenient."
"He really is sick, Jenny."
"With all due respect, sir, he has a cold."
"Yes, but he's allergic to the medication and just has to suffer through it. Ambassador Diaza would have a fit if I brought an officer who sneezed all over the delegation."
She smiled good-naturedly. "I suppose. And I do appreciate the chance to see Voyager again. At least there will be more people at the dinner." Then she tipped her head. "I wonder what that's about?"
He turned, and saw that a young yeoman had come into the room, conspicuous for her lack of a serving tray. She paused just long enough to locate Captain Janeway, but it was sufficient to capture Ambassador Diaza's attention. The Andorian frowned, his antennae curling deeply.
Captain Janeway stepped aside from Vestris and Daeja Thev to listen to the yeoman's message. She glanced toward Geordi once, and then nodded. Looking relieved, the yeoman hurried out. Janeway immediately approached Geordi.
"Harry Kim just called the Bridge," she said. "I know you left orders not to disturb you during the reception, but he says he needs to speak with you immediately."
Geordi was surprised, but didn't show it. Kim wouldn't interrupt him here unless it was urgent, but he couldn't imagine a crisis that didn't affect Voyager, too. He nodded. "Excuse me. I'll just step out."
Janeway lowered her voice. "You aren't planning to abandon me, are you?"
He realized she was probably more weary of Diaza than he, not to mention the Romulan observer, Prolak, who was watching the function like a hawk searching for a field mouse--and finding ways to evade dull diplomatic functions was a time--honored tradition for captains. "It's not an escape plan," he assured her. At least, he thought as he left the room, not yet.
Once in the corridor, he tapped his commbadge. "La Forge to Odyssey."
::Kim here. Sorry to interrupt, Captain, but Commander Lavelle thought we should let you know--we're picking up an automated distress signal. It's from a Vidiian ship.::
"Really?" The thought of leaving the reception to investigate was appealing. But then reality returned. "Pass it along to the Sodality, Commander."
::Already done, Captain. They don't have a record of a ship anywhere in the area, and they can't get a vessel there in less than four days.::
Something about Kim's inflection created the impression that he wasn't finished. "Go on."
::I offered our assistance, Captain. They were very grateful.::
So, he was going to abandon Janeway to the diplomatic wolves after all. Kim had acted correctly, of course--it was a Starfleet principle to lend aid when needed. The fact that it freed him from this tedious dinner was simply an added benefit. "Very well, Commander. We'll be returning shortly."
::Sir, may I make a suggestion? It could be useful to have Dr. Zimmerman--Voyager's CMO--with us. He knows more about... Vidiian physiology than anyone.::
"Good idea. I'll ask Captain Janeway. La Forge out."
He planned to take Janeway aside and quietly explain, but as soon as he entered the room he realized that would be difficult. Instead of small groups of people scattered about, everyone had clumped together in one circle. "Ah, Captain La Forge," Diaza said coolly. "How good of you to rejoin us. I assume you've dealt with your little problem?"
"Not entirely," he said politely, but with enough firmness for Diaza to understand he should bow out--he hoped. "Captain Janeway, may I speak to you for a moment?"
Diaza fixed a frozen party smile on his face. "Surely, Captain La Forge, if there is a problem we all are entitled to know."
The desire to tell the Andorian to stick it up his antennae was strong, but Geordi managed to quell it. Even so, it wasn't easy to conceal his irritation with the man. He cast an inquiring look to Janeway; as fleet commander, it was her call. When she nodded once in response, he said, "We've picked up a distress signal from a Vidiian ship. The Sodality doesn't have anyone available to investigate, so we volunteered."
Everyone looked dumbfounded for a moment, frozen by surprise into silence. All the intelligence reports indicated little activity of any kind in the region, by the Vidiians or anyone else. Ambassador Diaza recovered first, leaning forward slightly.
"Excellent," Councilor Vestris said quickly, before Diaza could speak. "Such a positive gesture can only strengthen our alliance. Don't you agree, Ambassador?"
"Of course," Diaza said smoothly. "It would certainly be a gesture of good faith. Naturally, I would like to speak with the Vidiians before you leave and determine whether there are any complicating factors we should be aware of, and which of my staff should accompany y--"
"Unfortunately, Ambassador," Geordi cut him off, "we've already committed to leaving as soon as possible. In fact, Lt. Commander Delaney and I need to return to Odyssey now. Captain Janeway, I'd like to borrow your CMO for this mission, since he's got hands-on experience with Vidiian physiology."
Janeway's expression was somewhat bemused, Geordi guessed she was torn between annoyance with him for leaving her to cope with Diaza alone and amusement at how deftly he had side-stepped the Ambassador's attempt to micromanage this situation, too. Add to that, she was probably worried about unexplained Vidiian activity in the sector. "Yes, that makes sense. He'll beam over as soon as he's assembled his gear."
Diaza looked like he was going to try to speak again, so she continued quickly. "We'll be leaving for Vidiia in the morning, so plan on meeting us there. In the meantime, keep me informed on the situation, Captain. Hourly reports. If there's trouble brewing, I want to know as soon as possible."
***
Still feeling uncertain, Denara started to sit down in the reception area, wondering just how long she would have to wait until someone told her what was happening. Before she made it to the chair, though, President Dop himself entered. Even though she had met with him before, she straightened instinctively in his presence, standing as erect as any soldier. Physically unimposing and gentle in his demeanor, Dop nonetheless conveyed the dignity of his office in his manner.
"Doctor Pel, thank you for coming so quickly," he said warmly. "Voyager will be here in four days."
Denara smiled. "That is excellent news, Mister President." And it was, although it didn't explain why armed officers had brought her here. Still, it didn't appear that she was under arrest--and she was grateful for the excuse to leave her meeting.
"But where are my manners? Please--" he motioned her into his office, following a step behind her. "Dr. Pel, you know these Federation people better than anyone else on Vidiia."
"That's probably true." Inside the office, she stopped in puzzlement. Mupano Tar, the chief executive of Mupano Industries and sponsor of her clinic and research, was standing by a desk. Suddenly she was keenly aware of her dirty and wrinkled clothes, and felt unkempt and out of place. She turned around, but President Dop seemed happily unaware of both her confusion and her disarray.
He went on, "And there are still some in the Sodality who believe that the Federation, especially Captain Janeway, are mass murderers. I know--" he held up a hand to forestall her objections "--this is nothing but rumor from the Kazon, who obviously have their own spin on what happened at Sobras. But you have to admit, the rumors about the Borg are harder to explain. This is obviously not the way to begin a new alliance."
"Sir?" She wasn't following this at all.
"Please, have a seat, Doctor." Dop leaned against his desk, and gestured for Tar to sit in a nearby chair. "As you know, Ronen Loa had been selected to be our representative, but sadly he was badly injured in the recent tragic fire. It will be months, if ever, before he can return to active service. You understand we need to find someone who the Federation can trust--and who trusts the Federation--to serve as ambassador..."
He let the sentence trail off, and simply looked at her. She stared back at him, still standing. It took a few seconds for his words to sink in, and then she was certain she misunderstood. "Me?"
"After much deliberation, the Sodality has agreed to my suggestion that you would be an excellent ambassador to the Federation. We've had little use for diplomats until recently," he smiled sardonically at that, "and you know the needs of Vidiia as well as any politician--probably even better." He stood and extended his hand. It held the lapel pin that signified an official representative of the Sodality. "Congratulations, Ambassador Pel"
She sat down. "I'm a doctor, sir. My clinic, my work..."
"As your own history has shown, the Federation has medical technologies vastly different from our own. Perhaps with their help you can continue your work on New Earth while still performing your diplomatic duties. A new perspective, perhaps?"
"I...ummm."
Dop chuckled. "Denara, you know we need outside alliances. But considering our history, it'll be a long time before that happens. This alliance is important to Vidiia. I'm hoping the Federation can help us prove our good intentions."
Tar stood. "I must offer my congratulations as well. And don't worry about your work. I can assure you that your work is vital to the survival of our people and Mupano Industries would be honored to continue funding your research and work."
She clasped her hands, trying to make sense of it all. "I understand, sir. Can I think about this?"
"Don't take too long, Voyager will be here in days, and we need your input now." He looked at the pin still in his hand, and then gently but firmly took hers and pressed it against her palm. "Why don't you keep this while you're thinking it over. It will save time if you decide to accept--which I sincerely hope you will."
She stared at the intricately wrought brooch and swallowed. Dop's care-lined face relaxed, giving her a glimpse of the man rather than the President. "I know it's overwhelming," he almost whispered to her, "but we do need you. Please remember that."
Without thinking, she closed her fingers over the pin and nodded. "Yes, Mr. President. I--I'll get back to you soon, I promise."
"Thank you." He gave her a final smile of encouragement and then walked behind his desk to sit. Realizing the meeting was over, Denara turned to leave.
Mupano Tar accompanied her into the hall. "You shouldn't be surprised by the Sodality's decision. You are a logical choice for this honor."
"Honor? What about my work?"
Tar smiled. "President Dop is correct. As our ambassador to the Federation you can help our people in ways I don't think you can imagine. The Federation doctors may even be able to offer a new vision on your work. Again, congratulations."
He walked away, leaving her standing with her mouth slightly open. "Ambassador Pel," she muttered, then shook her head. Both men had a point. She was the logical person. She was probably the only person on all of Vidiia who had spent more than a few hours with the crew of Voyager, and certainly the only one they would be likely to trust. And trust was absolutely necessary if the alliance were to succeed.
She turned around and walked back into the office.
Dop looked up from the PADD he was studying, but he didn't look surprised at her intrusion. "Well?" he asked.
"I may regret this, but I accept."
Harry Kim stared at his console and was tempted to slam his fist against it in sheer frustration. The data from the Vidiian ship had changed again, for the third time in twenty minutes. "There is something very weird about that ship," he said.
"Whad do you mean?" Sam Lavelle asked from the First Officer's seat. Dr. Ogawa had been able to treat some of his symptoms, so that he was only stuffed up and hoarse. He still looked miserable, though.
"The data from the long range scanner just changed again," Harry replied. "It's as if the source of the distress signal is morphing from duranium into--" he checked again before finishing "--aluminum."
Lavelle shook his head. "The scanner's malfunctioning."
"No, it's not." Harry was confident of this. "I ran a level 1 diagnostic three hours ago. It's not the scanner, it's the ship."
"Aluminum." Captain La Forge sounded thoughtful. "There's not a big difference between the molecular structure of aluminum and duranium. Just a few extra atoms here and there."
"But the Vidiians don't possess morphing capabilities," Lavelle replied, then added, "Do they?"
"They didn't ten years ago," Harry said, "Or at least, we never encountered it."
"We're in visual range," Griz Chafyn announced.
"Let's see it," La Forge said. The small ship was a short-range transport, just large enough for a pilot and one passenger, with a generous cargo hold. It looked lifeless as it drifted in space.
Harry felt a shiver on his spine. "It's Vidiian, all right. I recognize it."
"Life signs?" La Forge asked.
Harry tried to stabilize the data without success. "I'm reading one very faint sign, Vidiian, but I'm not sure it's reliable. The sensors almost seem to be bouncing off the ship."
"Keep trying. Hail them, Griz." La Forge stood, studying the image. "It's so small, we'll have to bring it on board to examine it.
"No response to our hail, sir."
The captain shook his head, a sign he was troubled. "Can you beam that life sign to Sickbay, Harry?"
"No, sir." He was heard frustration creep into his voice and tried to quell it. "I don't understand this at all."
La Forge looked at the screen speculatively for several seconds. "This is a long shot," he finally said, "but set the sensors to scan for invidium."
Harry's eyebrows shot up, but he immediately recalibrated the sensors. "Scanning now."
"Invidium?" Lavelle repeated. "Whad is it?"
"A very uncommon material with nucleosynthetic propensities," Harry answered. "It was used in medical containment fields."
La Forge turned to him in surprise. "That's right. How do you happen to know that? Invidium hasn't been used in quantity for over a century."
Harry grinned. "My freshman year at the Academy, my instructor in Advanced Quantum Physics asked me to analyze a paper on invidium and nucleosynthesis that a certain starship engineer had just published in Starfleet's Journal of Scientific Oddities."
When La Forge laughed, Lavelle said, "You, sir?"
"Yes, it was me. We'd had a big problem with a little bit of invidium on the Enterprise. It was before you were on board, Sam." He turned back to Harry. "The J-SO is only required reading for engineering majors. How is it you had to read it?
"I hadn't declared a major yet, and Commodore Dhira thought it was sufficiently... odd to interest me." He felt himself smiling as the data organized itself in front of him. "You got it, Captain. There's a concentration of invidium in both passenger compartments."
"Damn." La Forge shook his head. "We can't take the chance of bringing that ship on board. Assemble an away team, Mr. Kim. No more than three of you."
Lavelle started to rise, but La Forge shook his head. "Not you, Sam. Alyssa would have my head if I let you go EVA with a head like that. Harry, I want you to take a shuttle over to that ship and then go EVA in full hazmat suits. Pull whoever's in there out and bring them back. Sam, you need to set up a level 10 containment field in the shuttle bay. Plan on full decontamination of everything that gets within 100 meters of that ship."
"Is invidium really thad dangerous?" Lavelle asked.
"And then some," La Forge said.
***
Whenever Neelix couldn't find his wife, he knew where to look without consulting the ship's computer. When she was troubled or angry or worried, Sarexa cooked. He knew she would be in the kitchen.
And yes, as soon as he entered the galley, he saw her. Voyager's official cook was nowhere in sight, but Sarexa stood at a sideboard, kneading a large mound of dough. Pale pink flour dusted her cheeks and nose, like make-up of the completely wrong hue for Talaxian coloring. He cleared his throat. "Stofel bread, sweeting?"
She didn't look up as she brought one solid fist down on the dough. "Yes. Captain Janeway likes it."
He watched her pummel the unoffending lump for several seconds. This, he thought, is not an ordinary worry. It's not like her, not at all. She's usually so serene. Something's really getting to her. "Sweeting?" he ventured. "Is something wrong?"
"No." She grabbed the dough, lifted it up, turned it over and slammed it against the sideboard. "What could be wrong?"
"I don't know," he said honestly. "But you seem to be a bit... stimulated."
She turned and glared at him, a glare worthy of Janeway herself. "Stimulated?"
He couldn't help himself; he smiled. "You're so cute when you're angry." As the glare dropped in temperature, he realized what he had said. "Uh--are you angry about something?"
She took a deep breath, and exhaled through her nose. Her fist went deep into the bread again. "What could I possibly be angry about?"
Oh, no. He'd been married long enough to steer clear of those waters. "Well, since you're all right, I'll just--"
"Your old girlfriend, the love of your life, is on board, and you won't even mention her name, and you wonder what's wrong?"
Sarexa hit the dough so hard it closed around her fist, and she had to peel it off.
He closed his eyes, completely at a loss. Part of him had realized that Sarexa had been deliberately avoiding Kes, but he'd done his best to ignore it. She was always better than he at rolling with life's punches, as Chakotay phrased it. Now that he couldn't avoid the problem any longer, but he had absolutely no idea how to fix it. "That's it?" he asked. "You're upset about Kes?"
"Kes. So her name is Kes." Her tone became sarcastic. "I wouldn't have known it from talking to you."
"Yes, my name is Kes."
Neelix froze at the all too well-remembered voice. Turning slowly, he saw she stood just inside the doorway with Tom Paris.
For a moment--just a moment--he imagined what it would be like if she had stayed and shared her entire life with him. But reality reasserted itself almost immediately. She had left him, and now his wife was standing less than two meters away, her dough-caked hands frozen in mid-air, and a look of shock on her flour-dusted face.
The appropriate Human expression, he thought wildly, is surely 'damn.' What am I supposed to do now?
Kes stepped back, and turned her gaze to Sarexa. "This must be your wife." Her smile suddenly turned shy. "I'm so glad to meet you."
Sarexa stood frozen for a moment, then dropped her eyes. Instead of being angry, she was suddenly insecure. "Thank you. It's nice to meet you, too."
Then there was an awkward silence, and Neelix looked to Tom with a silent appeal for help. Tom cleared his throat nervously, but said nothing.
It was Kes who stepped into the void. "I had hoped Neelix found someone lovely and understanding. I'm so happy to see I was right."
Neelix watched the tension drain from Sarexa's face with almost comic quickness. Whether she had known it or not, Kes had hit upon the exact right thing to say. After months of marriage, he knew Sarexa was still deeply insecure about was her appearance, scarred from the forced removal of Borg implants. Leave it to Kes, Neelix thought gratefully, to see past the surface.
"Everyone told me you were beautiful," Sarexa said, sounding a little amazed, "but you really are."
Something in Neelix's heart broke at that. He had never dreamed that all his talk of Kes had wounded Sarexa. It was true, Kes would always hold a special place in his heart. But he had taken Sarexa as his chosen wife, and would never intentionally hurt her.
"It's just because I left the ship," Kes said, and her smile was conspiratorial, as if sharing a secret with a trusted friend. "Memory does wonders for one's best traits." Then she pointed to the well-kneaded dough. "Are you making stofel bread? I always loved it, and I haven't had it in years."
Sarexa nodded. "Captain Janeway likes it, too."
"She always had good taste." Kes moved away from Neelix to stand next to Sarexa. "May I help? It looks like you're ready to separate the dough."
'You're right." Sarexa shot Neelix a look that could clearly be interpreted as 'why didn't you see that?' and then smiled at Kes. "Would you like to help me?"
Kes's smile could have lit a solar system. "Oh, yes I would." She turned back to Tom. "Thanks for the tour, Tom, but I'll be fine here. Why don't the two of you go... do something."
"But--" Neelix began.
Tom clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Right. You girls have a good time."
"We will," Kes promised.
"Of course," Sarexa said. Then she looked at Kes. "So tell me, did he always snore?"
Tom had to almost pull Neelix out of the galley. "I can't leave," Neelix gasped. "Did you hear? They're going to talk about me."
"Damn straight," Tom said. He was almost, but not quite, smiling. "You can't get away from it. It's every man's nightmare, Neelix--the old girlfriend and the wife comparing notes. If you try to stop it now, it will only be worse for you."
Neelix started to protest, but then realized Tom was right. If he tried to interfere now, he would never hear the end of it. "This is terrible," he said. "Between the two of them, they know everything about me. I think I'm in big, big trouble." He shook his head. "I wish we'd stayed on Earth."
Tom smiled sadly. "I'm with you, pal. Truth is, I'm beginning to be sorry I dragged B'Elanna and Miral back to the Delta Quadrant. But we're stuck with the cards we were dealt." He slapped Neelix on the back. "Look, let's go down to the holodeck and play a round of pool. Then we'll both go home with a bouquet of flowers and tell our wives how lucky we are that they tolerate us."
Neelix considered. "Sounds like a plan," he finally said.
***
Harry turned to Jenny Delaney as she tightened the helmet clamp on her EVA suit. "Are you ready?"
::Whenever you are:: She sounded tense, and he knew why. Not only was this her first EVA assignment on Odyssey, it was her first outside of training. Astrometric personnel rarely had to work in space. But she had mentioned to Harry she wanted to expand her experience, so he tapped her for this.
"Stand by, then." He set the shuttle's airlock behind them. "Ready to open the hatch, Korbut."
The ship's pilot, Tatya Korbut, had volunteered to join them. She would remain on the shuttle while Harry and Jenny found a way to board the Vidiian ship. ::Hatch open:: she responded at once. ::Be careful.::
"Don't worry about that," Harry said. "Keep on open com." With a nod at Jenny, he lifted the narrow door and propelled himself into space.
It required nearly two minutes to cover the twenty meters between the shuttle and the Vidiian ship, and with every second, Harry had a better look at the craft. It looked old and well-used, its hull dimpled with dents of all sizes and its paint scratched and chipped. Some panels were a slightly different color, as if patched in without concern about appearance.
::Look:: Jenny said to him over the com.
She had turned her wristlight on the stern of the ship's fuselage. The spider-like symbol of the Vidiian Sodality was visible in faded but unmistakable gold, burgundy and gray. "I guess that confirms it," he said. He hadn't expected anything different, but the sight only made him feel more apprehensive. The spidery "legs" of the symbol reminded him forcibly of the pronged instrument the Vidiians had used to harvest organs from living victims.
Grimly, he turned his attention back to the cockpit. Using his own palm light, he tried to see inside but the viewport was milky and opaque.
::Is it supposed to be like that?:: Jenny asked.
"I don't think so." He pulled out his tricorder and scanned it. "My guess is the invidium has changed it somehow."
He reached the ship and stretched out a hand to steady himself against the hull. To his surprise, his hand pushed easily through the metal. "Not aluminum," he muttered. "Aluminum foil."
::How could that happen?::
"Invidium. It's nasty stuff--changes things at the molecular level. It almost destroyed the Enterprise fifteen years ago." He returned the tricorder to its pocket as he spoke. "At least it will be easy to open the cockpit. Remember, once we break the seal, we'll have about thirty seconds to get the breathers on them. And be ready to cope with the effects of the pressure change."
::If they're still alive.::
"Right. Once the breathers are on, haul your man out and head back to the shuttle as quickly as you can." He positioned himself at the nose of the cockpit while she took station near the approximate position of the gunnery officer. "Ready? On three. One, two, three--pull."
Moving in unison, they forced their hands through the foil-thin hull and ripped upwards. The entire cockpit peeled away in one piece, which they sent hurtling away. The exposed compartment showed two men--unconscious or dead--sitting back to back, their faces covered by oxygen masks.
Harry removed the portable breather from his utility belt and held it in his left hand. With his right, he pulled the useless mask from the pilot.
Half his face went with it.
Swallowing a surge of bile, Harry froze for a moment. At first, the exposed muscle and tendon captured his attention but then he realized something else. The other side of the face, the undamaged side, was oddly collapsed and still seeping with a thick, viscous liquid.
::Oh, my God.::
The horror in Jenny's voice matched his own, but it also snapped him back to action. "I know," he said. "Just do it, Jenny."
::Kim?:: Korbut called. ::What is it?::
"Stand by," he replied as he fastened the breather over the what was left of the mouth and nose of the Vidiian. Then he freed him from the safety restraint and pulled the body free of the ship, placing him across his shoulders.
Set, he checked on Jenny and saw that she, too, was ready to return. "Go," he said.
It seemed to take forever to get back to the shuttle, certainly longer than the trip over. As soon as they reached it, he motioned for Jenny to go first. He followed her, dropping his burden on the deck without much gentleness.
Jenny had already pulled her helmet off and stood staring at the two bodies on the ground. Her normally pale complexion had a greenish tinge. "Are they dead?"
He removed his helmet and gloves and knelt beside the Vidiian he had pulled from the pilot's seat. There was no carotid pulse. "I think so."
"Commander Kim." Korbut sounded annoyed. "What's going on?"
"Set up a containment field around the interior hatch and get us back to the ship," Harry said. "And tell Dr. Zimmerman these men died from the Phage."
"The Phage? I thought the Vidiians cured that."
"Yeah." Harry looked up and met Jenny's eyes. "That's what they said."
Captain Janeway tapped her index finger on the desktop, staring at the monitor. The blank screen was beginning to irritate her.
"The call is not due for another thirty-seven seconds," Tuvok reminded her. "Captain La Forge has been punctual in his previous reports. I'm certain he will be on time."
She stopped tapping and smiled ruefully. "You're right, of course. But his last message was very," she paused, searching for the right word, "unsatisfactory."
Unsatisfactory, she repeated to herself. How about 'incomplete.' Just enough information to let me worry for the past hour. We're less than 24 hours from Vidiia.
Seated on the other side of the desk, Tuvok nodded. "True. However--"
The monitor sprang to life, with a text message announcing an incoming call from Odyssey. Kathryn quickly accepted it and at once, the image of Geordi La Forge and the Doctor appeared. The troubled expression on the Doctor's face told her the news wasn't good. "Captain, Doctor," she said. "What can you tell me?"
"As you know, we located the source of the distress signal," La Forge said. "It turned out to be a two-man ship. We identified it as a light transport. The markings are Vidiian."
"Passengers?" she asked.
"We recovered two bodies." La Forge looked to Zimmerman, who picked up the response.
"Two Vidiian males," the Doctor continued. "Captain, they died only a few hours before we arrived on the scene--from the Phage."
She felt herself tense. "Are you certain?"
The Doctor nodded. "There's no doubt. Apart from the genetic damage, which is the classic marker for the Phage, I was able to isolate a strand of viral RNA that was still active. Fortunately, it still appears to present no risk to Humans or other Alpha Quadrant species. I'm sending a data packet with this transmission."
Kathryn inhaled through her teeth. "So much for the Vidiian's claim of a complete cure."
"There's something else," La Forge said. "Both bodies were heavily contaminated with invidium."
Tuvok raised one brow. "How unusual. Do you have any indication of the source of the exposure?"
"I'm guessing they were exposed to some kind of medical containment field," La Forge said. "That was the most common use for invidium in the Alpha Quadrant a century ago."
"It makes sense," Zimmerman added. "They might have been in an isolation ward to prevent the disease from spreading."
"But where?" Kathryn asked. "Where did they come from? Is the Phage still present on Vidiia?"
"I doubt it," the Doctor said. "Denara Pel wouldn't lie about that. Curing the Phage was her life's dream."
"Perhaps," Tuvok speculated, "they came from a colony, perhaps one that hasn't had the same access to the cure or even the same rate of success."
"Perhaps." Kathryn leaned back. "Have you ever heard of Molokai?"
Her first officer blinked. "Are you referring to one of the Hawaiian islands on Earth?"
"Ah," La Forge said. "I see."
"Molokai was the home of a leper colony," she explained. "Leprosy was a highly contagious and little understood disease. It caused so much fear in the general population that, for far too many years, anyone diagnosed with it was banished to an isolated encampment."
"You think these men escaped from a... leper colony for Phage victims?" Zimmerman asked.
"It's a possibility," she said. "I don't know what to think yet. What have you learned from the ship's records?"
"We haven't been able to access them yet. The invidium had already begun to affect the ship, and we haven't been able to establish any kind of interface." He looked unhappy. "The only way we're going to get anything is to send someone back out and try a manual upload. The ship is in such bad shape that I'm not sure it's worth the risk of contamination to Odyssey."
"I understand the risk, but it's one you have to take." Kathryn spoke firmly. "We must know everything we can about the situation. If the Sodality has been lying about the Phage, then their entire agenda is suspect. They could be proposing a colony for the Ocampans that is nothing more than a source of fresh organs."
La Forge nodded. "You're right. I don't expect to get much, though. The nucleosynthesis is playing havoc with the ship's structure."
"Do the best you can. We need anything you can get."
"Understood. We'll give you an update in an hour."
The transmission ended, and Kathryn leaned back. "I had a feeling something like this would happen. It all seemed too good to be true."
"What are you going to do?" Tuvok asked.
"Nothing, yet. Not until La Forge tells us what he learned from that ship."
"And if he can learn nothing?"
"Then," she said grimly, "I'm going to have a little chat with Ambassador Diaza, and I don't think he's going to like it. Because I'm not letting any civilian set foot on Vidiia until I have some answers."
"In that case, I hope Captain La Forge succeeds quickly. At our present speed, we will reach Vidiia tomorrow." He rose. "It could be awkward if we have to change plans now."
***
Geordi watched the viewscreen intently. There were times when he missed the intricate detail the VISOR brought to his senses, but this wasn't one of them. Artificial eyes that duplicated normal Human sight were far better for watching broadcast images. It was easier to figure out what was important to see, and what wasn't.
Just now it was important to see his Chief Engineer, Lt. James, as he tried to get any information from the computer of the derelict fighter. The young man moved clumsily in the EVA suit and breathed heavily over the open comm link.
"How's it going, Homer?" Geordi asked.
"Miserably," James replied. "The main computer core has mutated into something like chocolate pudding. That invidium is strong stuff."
Sam Lavelle leaned forward. "What aboud the secondary consoles?"
"I thought I might be able to get something from the navigation assembly, but it collapsed when I tried to interface the tricorder." He paused. "There's nothing left, sir."
Geordi shook his head. "Then get out of there. No sense prolonging your exposure."
"Make sure you stay in the hazmat area once you're in the shuddle," Lavelle added in his cold-afflicted voice.
James snorted. "You don't have to tell me that, Commander. I've seen what this stuff does. I don't want it anywhere near my engines."
A true engineer, Geordi thought. He watched the screen as James pushed away and began to drift back to the shuttle, waiting some fifty meters away. They had rigged a special hazardous material containment area to protect the shuttle from any stray invidium that might cling to James. When he returned, he, his EVA suit, the shuttle and the pilot would be put through the most rigorous decontamination process Geordi and Ogawa could devise. The prospect of even one loose molecule of invidium made Geordi's head hurt.
"Captain," Griz Chafyn said, sounding surprised, "there's a ship approaching at high speed. It seems to be heading straight for us."
"Hail them."
The incoming ship dropped out of warp and became visible on the viewscreen, barely 5000 meters away. It continued at full impulse and passed above Odyssey.
"Shields up," Lavelle said.
"No response to our hail," Griz said. "Captain, I think--I think they're powering weapons."
"Homer! Use suit thrusters and get into the shuttle, now." The young man complied with Geordi's order, but he was still a good thirty meters from the shuttle.
"Intruder is turning," Chafyn said.
The unidentified ship streaked across the viewscreen. As it flew over the derelict, a phaser-like beam lashed out and made a direct hit. The derelict flew apart, some of its pieces vaporized and others careening through space. The attacker wheeled, and disappeared as it went into warp drive.
The shock of the explosion caught up with Lt. James almost immediately, and slammed him through the hatch of the shuttle. Bits of debris followed him as he disappeared into the shadows "Homer? Are you all right?"
His voice was breathy and thin. "Been better, sir. What was that?"
"Whatever it was, it's gone," Griz
said flatly.
"Never mind that," Geordi said. "Just get take
care of yourself. Ensign Li," he addressed the shuttle pilot,
"you'll have to help him in. Take a medikit and stay in the
hazmat area with him. We'll tractor you aboard."
"Whad was that all about?" Lavelle asked.
Geordi looked at the debris field scattering itself in all directions. "I'd say someone didn't want to take any chances. Whatever that ship could tell us, someone didn't want us to know."
***
Kathryn decided to indulge in a water shower as she got ready for alpha shift. It was less efficient than a sonic shower, but infinitely more refreshing. Considering that she was operating on less than three hours sleep, she needed all the refreshing she could get.
She had finished her last communication with La Forge and Odyssey at 0130, but the implications of it kept her awake quite a while after that. There was no doubt the Vidiians were hiding something. She didn't know what it was, yet, but the possibilities were staggering.
The steamy water felt wonderful, and by the time she stepped out she was ready to face the day. As she rubbed her hair with a towel, there was a quick knock at the door and Chakotay came in, wearing a robe and slippers. That was unusual for him in the morning--he typically dispensed with clothing altogether until he was showered and dressed. Combined with the look on his face, she knew something was up.
"We have company," he said. "Ambassador Diaza. He said he had a message that you wanted to meet with him first thing in the morning."
"He's here?" She shook her head in irritation, sending droplets of water on Chakotay's robe. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Since I sent the message at 0200, he's probably guessed he won't like what I have to say. He's trying to catch me off balance."
Chakotay's eyes swept over her appreciatively. "Well, you can probably turn the tables if you greet him like that."
She laughed, but then her eyes lit. "You know, that's a good idea."
"Kathryn?"
"Not exactly like this," she said with a smile. She twisted the towel around her head and pulled on a thick terry robe.
He still looked slightly shocked. "Are you going to conduct business like that?"
"Only for a moment," she assured him. "Just long enough to show that he hasn't rattled me. Or annoyed me. Or gotten under my skin."
"Good that you aren't irritated," he said with a smile, and followed her back into the bedroom. "I'll just wait here."
She continued into the main room and found Diaza seated at the table, sipping a cup of coffee. He looked up at her but did not stand. "Captain. My apologies. When you said first thing in the morning, I assumed you meant it."
"But I did." She smiled serenely. "I see you have coffee. If you don't mind, I'm going to get some for myself."
"If you would prefer to talk later--"
"Not at all. This works quite well, actually." At the replicator she ordered a cup of coffee and a plate of breakfast breads, including Andorian sweetmeal cakes. "I'm only sorry I wasn't waiting for you, but I was under the impression you never conduct business before 0600."
Direct hit, she thought. He had made that point with her at least three times since the mission began. Other than a quick twitch in his antennae, though, he showed no reaction. "You indicated some urgency."
"Yes." After she set the plate on the table, she touched a hidden control. A monitor elevated itself from the tabletop. This was not standard issue, and Diaza looked surprised. She quickly activated it. "This is the text report I received from Captain La Forge last night. I'll leave you to read it while I finish dressing. "
Back in the bedroom, she found Chakotay grinning at her. "Killing him with kindness? Well done."
"Are you eavesdropping?"
"Only a little." He shrugged. "I think you've taken him by surprise. He didn't expect to actually do business at our dining room table."
She paused on her way back to the bath. "I know you hate the table monitor, but it does come in handy."
"In this case, I'll agree."
It took her less than ten minutes to flash-dry her hair, put on her make up and pull on her uniform. As she paraded past Chakotay, his eyebrows raised. "That might be a new record."
She was pleased with herself, at that. Grinning, she asked, "How do I look?"
"Ready for battle," he said thoughtfully. "You've got that gleam in your eye."
"You know me so well." She winked at him as she returned to the main room.
Diaza was still reading, so she refreshed her coffee before taking a seat across from him. He finally acknowledged her with a nod and said. "I see why you are concerned."
"Concerned? Ambassador, I'm a lot more than concerned." She waited until he met her eyes before continuing. "The Vidiians lied to us. They haven't entirely cured the Phage."
"True, the Phage appears to still be an issue. But we can't conclude that the Vidiians lied to us." He frowned slightly. "There are other explanations."
She blinked. "You did read the entire report, didn't you? You realize the post-mortem exams on the bodies recovered by Odyssey showed they not only died of active Phage, but each had multiple organs from other species."
"Yes," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand, "but the reports also noted that while the transplants could be recent, they might also have occurred years ago. It's possible, Captain, those two unfortunates were fugitives or simply ex-patriots who never presented themselves for the cure."
"It's also possible the cure doesn't work for everyone and those who can't be cured are still pirating organs from other species. Which is consistent, I might add, with the attack on Odyssey. Someone was trying to cover their tracks."
"I expect that degree of paranoia in a Starfleet analysis." His mouth thinned in annoyance. "Try to be logical, Captain. If the Vidiians were still in the organ-stealing trade, why didn't they attack Odyssey as well as the transport? Why pass up such an opportunity?"
"Perhaps because they knew they couldn't succeed," she snapped. "They aren't suicidal."
He smiled coldly. "But according to your own reports, Vidiian ships exceed the Federation in technology. Isn't that how they were able to board Voyager repeatedly?"
She sucked in her breath at the low blow Diaza knew, or darn well should have known, that there were mitigating circumstances to those incidents. With an act of will, she mentally counted to ten. "I can't account for every ship in the Vidiian fleet."
Diaza looked down at the report and then back to her. "What is it you expect of me? What do you want me to do?"
"I want you to call a halt to these negotiations until we have some answers. We can't go forward with this colony until we know we can trust the Vidiians."
His fingers trailed over the monitor as he replied. "I agree, this incident raises many questions. However, ceasing negotiations won't get us any answers and will only jeopardize the long-term future of the alliance and the Ocampan people." His eyes burrowed into her. "The only way to get answers, Captain, is to ask questions. Which is exactly what I intend to do as soon as it is a decent hour of the morning on Vidiia. President Dop will take my call, I believe."
"Of course you need to ask him about it," she said impatiently. "But you can't stop there. If the Vidiians are deceiving us, he won't tell you the truth."
His expression became pitying. "Just how big is this conspiracy? Is your friend Denara Pel lying to us along with the others?"
For the first time, she hesitated. "I trust Dr. Pel. But every instinct I have says something isn't right about this. And I learned to trust my instincts in the Delta Quadrant. It's how we got home."
Diaza said nothing, and she wondered if she was beginning to get through to him. Finally, he said, "Captain, we're in agreement on the basic point: there are issues that must be cleared up before the treaty is finalized."
The relief his words brought was short lived. He went on," I, however, am willing to assume the Vidiians are acting in good faith until we have hard evidence to the contrary." Then he stood, clearly ready to leave. "Present some solid evidence, and I'll reconsider. Until then, we'll proceed--with caution, but we will proceed."
He meant that to be the last word, but she stood up quickly. "The diplomatic discussions are your province, Ambassador, but the safety of Federation citizens and dependents is mine. If I have any reason to suspect the colony is a ruse--I promise you, I'll pull all three ships back to the Alpha Quadrant so fast it will make transwarp look slow."
"Try it, and it will be your last action in Starfleet." His cheeks darkened to almost midnight blue, and he actually seemed to be rattled. "I'll have you court-martialed and discharged in disgrace."
She smiled, almost amused by his threat. He must really want to be the Governor, she thought. The prospect of thwarting the colony was the only thing that punctured his composure. She smiled. "If it comes to that, you're welcome to try. In the meantime, let's get to the bottom of this. Why don't you join me in my conference room at 1030 hours. We can call President Dop together. You might consider asking Kes or one of the other Ocampans to come, also. They should hear what he has to say."
His jaw muscles clenched briefly, and she realized she had annoyed him again. He had clearly understood her unstated position--she would not permit him to contact Dop without her. Then his color faded to its normal light blue, and he bowed slightly. "Very well, Captain. We shall contact the President together. But be careful you don't overstep your bounds."
"I understand your point," she said. Then her voice turned cold. "You understand this--this is my ship, and you do not dictate my bounds while we are on it."
He turned and left without another word.
Kathryn muttered an expletive, wishing all the so-called 'official' diplomatic personnel on board to perdition. Diaza always managed to get under her skin, and even though the Romulan observer Prolak had kept a low profile lately, he was still a major annoyance to deal with. "Why can't more ambassadors be like Neelix?"
***
It was late, even by Denara's standards, but she didn't expect to go home any time soon. The amount of paperwork to be completed before she handed the Clinic over to Krazel Lem was staggering. It had taken her all afternoon just to train him on the documentation needed to satisfy the research grant from Mupano Industries. Now she was reviewing the records of her patients, making certain nothing important was left out of the record that other physicians would rely on when they assumed treatment responsibility.
Then, all she had to do was make arrangements to get out of the lease she had signed only yesterday for new living quarters and redo the arrangements she had just made for her mail, her bills, and her utilities. Since the fire wiped out everything she owned, at least there was nothing to store and precious little to pack--but she did have to shop--what sort of clothes did an ambassador wear, anyway?--and her research notes needed to be organized, copied and downloaded so she could bring them with her... No. It was impossible. There was no conceivable way she could become an ambassador by the day after tomorrow.
Not if your mind keeps wandering, she chastised herself. She realized she hadn't actually read the last page of the chart in front of her and forced herself to start over, concentrating on every word. This was one of her favorite patients, a sweet elderly woman with a host of medical problems. She dictated an additional note at the end. "This patient is particularly frightened of invasive procedures, and will need extra reassurance for any surgical procedure, even one as trivial as dermal regeneration for a laceration."
"Sounds like someone you know well," a familiar voice said. She looked up in surprise and saw President Chimeral Dop leaning against the doorframe. There was no mistaking the tall, slender frame and thick white hair.
She switched the dictation function to off. "Mr. President. I wasn't expecting--I mean, no one told me--"
"Please relax, Dr. Pel," he said, coming into the office and settling in the chair near her desk. "This isn't an official visit. The media must be informed of official visits, you know."
"Yes," she said faintly.
"I've been trying to reach you at one of the refugee centers, and when that proved unsuccessful, someone suggested you might be staying here." He looked around, taking in the Spartan furnishings and walls in need of paint. "Do you often work this late?"
"There's so much to do," she said defensively. "Voyager will be here tomorrow night."
His lips turned upward so slightly that she wasn't sure whether or not to call it a smile. "And I've turned your life upside down. There isn't enough time to get ready. You're unprepared."
For a moment, she thought he was laughing at her. Then she realized there was no humor in his expression, just a gentle understanding. She also realized there were no bodyguards in sight, and some of the tension left her shoulders and neck. "Well, yes. Exactly."
"I remember." This time, he did smile. The resemblance to her long-dead great-uncle was astonishing. "Do you know how I got into politics?"
Feeling a little ashamed, she shook her head. She had never been much interested in anything as sordid as politics; since childhood, she had been focused on science. Science, and helping people.
"I was a professor at The City University of Vidalia. Not one of our larger institutions of learning, but perhaps more intense because of that. I taught history. Tenured, head of the department, busy with my classes and my research--and quite happy." He shook his head. "It was a sweet time. And then, one day, a stranger walked into my office. I recognized him immediately, of course."
"Who was it?" she asked, pulled into his story.
"Santaro Fen." He spoke the name with awe, as befitted the most beloved President in the history of Vidiia. "Of course, he was quite old then. And quite ill. Actually, he was dying, but I didn't know that then. I just knew one of my very few heroes had come to see me."
She didn't know what to say, so she waited for him to continue. He did, almost immediately. "He took a seat and began to ask me questions. I don't remember them specifically, but he was trying to understand my beliefs about our current policies then. Whether I supported the organ procurement program--that was the official name, you know--and whether I thought we were losing too much of ourselves as a people. Finally he stood up and handed me a piece of paper. 'I'm appointing you to my cabinet,' he said. 'Vidiia needs men like you.'
"I was non-plussed. 'Surely not,' I protested. 'Vidiia needs scientists and physicians who can cure us.' But he just smiled at me. He had a very potent smile, you know. It grabbed your heart and refused to let go. 'The scientists can cure us,' he said. 'But we need men like you to remember why we should be cured in the first place.'"
His nostalgic expression faded. "Vidiia needs you, Denara Pel, to tell us why we deserved to survive."
Shaken, she swallowed. "Surely not," she said, and then realized she had echoed his own words.
"Surely yes. We need this alliance with the Ocampans and the Federation. The new colony can be a refuge for our displaced citizens, especially those who lost everything in the Horspant and Meyel fire. No, more than that: We need to prove that we are no longer the scavengers of the sector. We need to show that we are again--or at least, we will be--what we once were." His eyes bored into her, demanding her agreement. "You are the only one of us--the only one--who has proven her integrity to both sides. We can't do it without you."
"No," she said without thinking. "I'm not that important."
"Of course you are." Suddenly he looked like her uncle again. "We need this alliance, Denara. I can't tell you how desperately we need it. Once we were the center of civilization and art in this part of space. Today, we are pariahs, shunned because of the steps we took to save ourselves. Perhaps we can survive alone, but we can't even begin to recover what we once had. What we once were. We have to reach out. We have to become part of the galactic community again, or we'll be doomed."
"Then not me," she said in a small voice. "I'm not a diplomat. I'm just a doctor."
"They trust you." Now he was deadly serious. "And we need that. There have been some... problems."
"What kind of problems?"
"They've found a ship with two Vidiians on board. They were dead--from the Phage."
"How?" she asked, leaning forward. "Everyone has had the chance for the cure."
"Exactly. We don't know how." He studied his hands, twined together in his lap. "Perhaps they have been traveling in space all these years. Perhaps they are from one of the colonies we lost track of. We don't know. But the Federation ships found them. And found out they had organ transplants from other species."
Denara wilted. "Oh, no." How would the Federation ever believe them now? They would think Denara had lied, that Vidiia had lied. The alliance was over before it ever began. And the Ocampans--oh, the Ocampans would be the ones to pay the price.
"You see the problem." He stood, and placed his hands on her desk. "You must save this situation, Denara. We Vidiians need this alliance almost as much as the Ocampans do. Neither of us have much of a future without it."
What else could she say? "I'll do my best, sir."
He relaxed, and then he straightened. "Of course you will. Because you love Vidiia. You and I are much alike, Denara. We both see the potential of our people, and we are willing to do almost anything to see it fulfilled." Then he smiled again. "Starting tomorrow, you have my staff at your disposal. Use them for the more mundane aspects of your transition. You'll find them most effective at dealing with petty bureaucrats."
She felt overwhelmed. "Thank you."
"It's the least I can do. You have a lot to do in two days." His eyes twinkled. "But could you take a few minutes to give me a tour? I'd like to see what you've accomplished here."
***
Jenny didn't understand how anyone ever got any sleep in Sickbay. Even in the middle of the ship's night, there were too many distractions. The dimmed lights were still too bright and there were too many people walking about, checking monitors and whispering quietly. It was like trying to sleep with an audience watching. It might have been different if she were actually sick, but there was nothing wrong with her. Except insomnia. Except that she was wearing an itchy blue patient gown instead of her red silk pajamas, and her hair was loose and getting tangled. Except that everything was just not the way it should be.
A soft snore from the bed opposite hers in the ward reminded her that not everyone was having the same trouble. Poor Harry had spent so much time in Sickbay over the years that he must have learned to cope with the lack of privacy. Beside him, Homer James was sedated as his injuries mended.
She wondered if she should ask for a sedative herself. Dr. Zimmerman and Dr. Ogawa were still in the CMO's office, working on their autopsy report. All she had to do was call out and they would give her one. Of course, at this late hour it was sure to make her groggy in the morning but wouldn't that be preferable to lying here, worrying? Her mind absolutely refused to stop working, and it was churning up all sorts of dreck.
She kept picturing the face of Pete Durst on a Vidiian body, something she hadn't seen personally but had heard described time and again. And B'Elanna Torres, divided into two beings, one Klingon and one Human--that she had glimpsed, accidentally, but the image had haunted her dreams for months. And what if the Phage had mutated, and Humans were susceptible to the new strain? The Doctor and Dr. Ogawa both said they didn't think that was the case, but that was why she and Harry were in quarantine--just in case. Well, what if she did? The Vidiians had a cure now. But apparently that cure didn't work for everyone. The image of the two dead Vidiians kept flashing in her memory. It was a terrible way to die.
Suddenly she pictured herself with the Phage, her face cracked and seeping and sliding off. With a gasp, she sat up. This was ridiculous. She snapped on the overhead reading light and reached for a glass of water.
The doors to Sickbay opened, and she looked up. A single person walked in, and despite the dim light she recognized Sam Lavelle immediately. He looked around uncertainly.
"They're in the office," she said softly.
He turned in her direction and nodded. "Danks."
As he went into the office, she bit her lip to keep from smiling. The poor man was clearly suffering, but he sounded so funny it was hard to not be amused. The cure for the common cold had been around for at least fifty years, but at least ten percent of the population was allergic to it.
She took a sip of water and wondered whether she should try reading for a little bit, or just ask for a sedative. Maybe a light dose would just help her relax, she thought. On the other hand, it would be almost like a surrender, letting the worry win, and that felt wrong.
Before she could decide, Lavelle left the office and came over to her bedside, or more precisely, to as close to her bedside as the containment field would permit. "Can't sleep?" he asked softly.
"Not a wink." She sat up straighter. "What brings you here at this hour? Has something happened?"
"Only to my decongestant. Id wore off, and I couldn' breathe." He looked around. "I can nebber sleep in Sickbay, either."
Impulsively she asked, "Have you found out anything else about the ship that attacked? Was it Vidiian?"
"Id doesn't match anything in our records, but the engine signature wasn't anything we've seen from the Vidiians before." He cocked his head and studied her. "You're really worried about dis, aren'd you?"
She was surprised he realized that. "Yeah, well, wouldn't you be?"
"Don't led your mind run away wid you. Alyssa tells me she's certain you and Kim are fine."
"Then why keep us here?" she asked in frustration, then waved a hand. "Never mind. I know why. But it's not just that. The Vidiians lied to us about everyone being cured. If they lied about that, what else have they lied about?"
"Maybe they didn't lie. Maybe there's an explanation." He paused. "You really don't trust them."
"Would you trust the Founders if they told you they stopped breeding Jem Ha'dar, and then you discovered a functional breeding facility? No matter how reasonable their explanation was?"
"I guess not," he said slowly.
"There you are."
"Still, dere's really nothing to worry about," he said, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "You should try to get some sleep."
"Yeah. So should you. Thanks for stopping by." With a nod, he turned to leave, but she called quietly, "Commander? My grandmother didn't believe in taking medication for a cold. She swore by garlic soup--said it helped more than anything a doctor could give her. Ask the replicator for the Delaney recipe."
He looked dubious. "Garlic soup?"
"You'll like, I promise." She smiled. "She said it was the best part of being sick."
He grinned. "It can't make me feel any worse, that's for sure."
She watched him as he turned and left. Then she swung the bedside monitor over and scrolled up a book. Reading was a better option than a sedative, she decided. At least she wouldn't dream.
***
Kathryn Janeway strode across the Bridge from her ready room, not realizing her hands were balled into fists as she walked. "What's our ETA to Vidiia?" she asked Paris.
"About thirty-six hours at present speed," he responded promptly. And without any attitude. That was good--she wasn't in the mood for attitude.
"Then slow us down," she said as she took her seat. "Warp 4 will be more than sufficient."
"Warp 4, aye."
In the First Officer's chair, Tuvok leaned closer and asked quietly, "I gather you are not satisfied with President Dop's explanation."
Her jaw tightened. "You gather correctly." The Vidiian leader had seemed genuinely shocked and puzzled by the description of the two dead Vidiians, the mysterious attack and the invidium. He promised to investigate and have some answers by the time Voyager arrived. After the conversation, she and Diaza were still at loggerheads, but she could cope with that. The thing that bothered her was that Kes and the other Ocampans wanted to proceed in spite of what Odyssey had uncovered.
"We don't have a choice," Kes had told her. "Even if the Vidiians have an ulterior motive for allowing us to colonize, it doesn't matter. We have a better chance of survival with them than on Ocampa."
It was hard to argue with that. In their brief time on Ocampa, Kathryn had seen enough to know that the people were doomed to extinction if they stayed on that barren world. She couldn't stop them, or even blame them, for putting themselves at risk.
The Federation colonists, on the other hand, were a different story. Unless the Sodality could provide some darn good answers, she wasn't about to let a single Federation citizen (or almost Federation citizen) debark from Pioneer, and she had already sent orders to that effect to Captain Merves. Diaza could scream about it until his face turned yellow and his antennae fell off, she was not relenting.
She suddenly realized the Bridge was unusually quiet. The normal buzz of private conversations, punctuated by a bit of banter (usually from Paris) was entirely missing. The crew probably sensed she was in a rotten mood. Just as well. She didn't want to be jollied up; she wanted to work up a good case of mad to use in her next confrontation with the good ambassador.
"Three ships are approaching at warp 5." The baritone voice of Lt. Ishtak at Security cut into her thoughts.
"Vidiian?" she asked.
"No." He scowled at his console. "We don't have this configuration in our database." Then his voice dropped to a bass rumble, which she was learning indicated trouble. "They are powering weapons."
"Shields up," Tuvok said immediately.
"Hail them," Janeway said at almost the same moment.
Ishtak was the first to respond. "They are targeting Voyager."
Janeway uncrossed her legs and leaned forward. "Red Alert. Lt. Auraan, have they responded yet?"
The Troyian Ops officer was completely focused on her console. "No, ma'am. I'm certain they're receiving our message. They're ignoring it."
"Center ship is firing," Ishtak rumbled.
She gripped the arms of the command chair. "Evasive maneuvers, Tom."
The words were barely out of her mouth when the ship lurched to the left in a 90-degree turn. "Hold on," Paris called. He sounded almost cheerful.
A streak of phaser fire passed by, missing Voyager by mere meters. "Who are they?" Janeway muttered.
Tuvok studied the data on his screen. "The ships' configuration is different, but the energy signature matches the ship that attacked Odyssey."
Her head jerked as she looked at him. "Here? But why?"
Before he could answer, Ishtak said, "The starboard ship is firing."
"Here we go," Paris said, and Janeway felt the ship drop abruptly on its x-axis. Again, the phaser beam streaked by harmlessly.
"I'm getting tired of this. Pick a ship, Mr. Ishtak, and target the weapons array." Janeway punched the controls on her chair's arm console, and then let out a small hiss of breath. The ships were smaller than Voyager, with crews of no more than thirty, but they were armed and protected like battle cruisers. Voyager could handle one of them easily, but three in concert--it was going to be a fight.
She watched as Ishtak's first shot went wide of the mark. Then the ship shuddered. "Direct hit to the port nacelle," the Klingon reported. "Shields are holding."
"Fire at will," Janeway said. "I want them disarmed if possible. Keep trying to hail them, Auraan."
The viewscreen showed the dart of pure energy that zipped from Voyager to the alien ship in the middle of the formation, where it struck the hull but was absorbed by the shields. A second bolt followed almost immediately to the same site, and this time the shields flared with light. When they dimmed, the ship appeared undamaged.
"Two direct hits," Tuvok observed, "but without effect."
Voyager twisted and turned in space, trying to avoid enemy fire and still have a vantage for its own shots. Ishtak fired phasers again and again, each time hitting a target, but with minimal damage. The aliens fired with accuracy, too, and Voyager jerked and shimmied from repeated hits.
"Damage reported on Deck 15," Tuvok said. "Shields down to 90%."
Auraan's voice rose slightly. "Ambassador Diaza is calling the Bridge. He wants to know what's going on."
"Tell him to take a good guess, but clear that comm," Janeway snapped. "We're busy."
Another phaser struck, and the lights on the Bridge blinked twice before stabilizing. "Shields down to 85%," Tuvok reported. He checked his console and added, "Engineering reports an overload in EPS systems on Deck 11."
Janeway frowned, and tapped her commbadge. "Janeway to Engineering. B'Elanna, how soon can we switch to transwarp?"
"Ah--" B'Elanna sounded surprised. Janeway couldn't blame her; they had never contemplated activating the transwarp drive in the middle of a battle. "Give me three minutes, Captain. It's going to be a little tricky."
Nice understatement, Janeway thought. "Three minutes, B'Elanna. That's it."
She turned and found Tuvok regarding her with a raised eyebrow. "I don't want to take a lot of damage for no apparent reason. We can outrun them, and we will."
"Initiating transwarp under these conditions is not recommended," he reminded her.
"Getting ambushed isn't recommended, either." She turned to Paris. "Get ready, Tom. It doesn't matter which direction we go, just be prepared to go quickly."
Without breaking his concentration, Paris nodded. "Yes, ma'am."
She was asking a lot of him, she knew. He had to stay focused on the defensive maneuvers and lay in the calculations for transwarp. There weren't many pilots who could handle that simultaneously, but she had faith in Tom.
"Ha!" Ishtak shouted. "Weapons are down on the third attacker."
She nodded in satisfaction. "Good work. Auraan, if they aren't talking to us, are they talking to each other?"
"Not on normal frequencies." Then her eyes lit with inspiration. "Maybe there's something here... yes, there's definitely something. It's not voice communication, but there's some kind of signal passing between the ships on the low e-m bandwidths."
Voyager shook again, a little harder this time. Janeway slapped her comm control. "B'Elanna?"
"Stand by, Captain. We need another minute."
"Two more ships approaching," Ishtak said, then added, "They're Vidiian."
On the viewscreen, she watched as two gleaming light cruisers, nearly the size of Voyager, swooped in and began firing on the three alien ships. After an initial return of fire, the three ships broke formation and fled, streaking into warp drive.
"Stand down transwarp drive," Janeway ordered at once.
"We're being hailed," Auraan said. "Captain Fren of the Sodality Defense Force."
"On screen." Janeway stood, and greeted the uniformed Vidiian who now faced her. Although his face was lined with fine scars, he looked healthy and fit. "I'm Captain Kathryn Janeway. Thank you, Captain. Your timing was excellent."
"Happy to be of assistance," Fren replied. "Although you seemed to be doing well enough."
"Do you know who they were?" she asked. "They never contacted us or gave a reason for the attack."
He frowned. "Specifically, no. Generally, we know there is a band of renegades operating in this sector. They're a conglomeration of disaffected Kazon, Talaxian, and I'm sorry to add, Vidiians who are little more than pirates and thieves. My guess is they were after your transwarp technology."
She considered that for a moment. It was plausible, so plausible it was almost too easy. Or was she just paranoid? In any case, it didn't matter. The ship was damaged, and Vidiia was the closest port where repairs could be made. She smiled her best diplomatic smile. "That explains it, then."
"There may be more of them nearby," Fren said. "The Sodality suggests we escort you the rest of the way. A convoy faces less danger of attack."
"A wise precaution. We accept your assistance." Then she added, "We will need to begin slowly, though. I'd like to stay at Warp 2 until my Engineer confirms the damage to the engines is repaired."
Fren nodded. "Of course. We'll follow your lead."
The screen went dark. "Were the engines damaged?" Paris asked. "I missed that."
She smiled. "It wouldn't be prudent to push the ship until we have ascertained all the damage." She turned to Auraan. "Did you get that e-m signal?"
"Only about forty seconds."
"I want a report on it in an hour. If there's anything that confirms or refutes Fren's pirate story, I want to know."
She didn't like this. She didn't like this at all. They were heading into Vidiia with far too many unanswered questions.
Who, Mark wondered, who wrote the algorithm for love? Surely not Lewis Zimmerman, at least, not Lewis fifteen years ago. Back then, the only love his legal father had understood was that of self. He knew for a fact that nothing Lewis had created was responsible for the fact he now stood here, in the public lobby of the President's Residence in Vidalia City, hoping for a glimpse--just a glimpse--of Denara Pel.
How could a hologram feel a lump in his throat, sense his pulse racing and his breath pant? There was no factual basis for these sensations, and yet he felt them, fully and completely and undeniably. The mere thought of seeing Denara again excited him in ways he could not explain.
Kes was to blame, he decided, as he walked with exaggerated casualness to examine another piece of statuary. When he realized he was staring at a nude woman, he recoiled for a moment, but then studied it with professional detachment. The goddess--or so he surmised from the pose, which was reminiscent of the famed statue of Nike on Earth--certainly displayed divine endowments. Not even Seven ...
With a wrench of his thoughts, he moved on to the next statue, a representation of some type of noble bird. Yes, he could lay place the origin of his current state of mind directly with his private reunion with Kes. She asked about Seven, and when he described her decision to leave Voyager in general terms, her entire demeanor changed. You loved her very much, she had said.
He couldn't deny it. His feelings for Seven were already known by those closest to him, and who was closer than Kes? I did, he said, but she didn't feel the same way.
I'm sorry, she replied, and for once, he was willing to accept the sympathy. But love is never futile, you know. If you learned to love deeply once, you will again.
Did you? he had wanted to ask, but didn't. He was afraid he knew the answer, and it wasn't a happy one.
But ever since then, he had been thinking about Denara. She had been his first lover, and his first love. Well, to be accurate, he had loved her as much as his programming at the time allowed--but in his memory, there was little difference between that and what he had felt for Seven. When it came to emotions, 100% was 100%, no matter the total capacity.
And yes, he loved Kes with all his matrix, too. But it was different. Kes was his teacher and his student, his friend and confidante. She had taught him the basics of human interaction, and in that respect, she was like his mother.
Eeew. Make that sister. Yes, he probably couldn't appreciate his sister Haley nearly as much if he hadn't known Kes first.
A woman holding the hand of a small child jostled him, trying for a closer look at the bird. He tried to find some special quality, noting the beak and the eyes and the wingspan. It looked like a crow. Perhaps it held some place in Vidiian mythology.
He began to walk to the next statue when he saw her, coming down one of the five marble corridors that led to the public lobby. Denara. She wore a simple suit of mocha brown with a white blouse underneath, but it set off her coloring. Her hair had grown back thick and long, and at a distance, her face appeared free of scars.
He forgot to maintain the appearance of breathing. She was beautiful.
She didn't notice him as she walked purposefully across the lobby, and he didn't want to disturb her. The conference was about to begin, and she surely had more important things on her mind than him.
But then she slowed and looked around, as if suddenly uncertain of her surroundings. One hand pressed against her temple, a universal sign of a headache. Then she walked slowly to one of the benches lining the wall and sat down.
If she hadn't looked so forlorn, he would have left her alone. He had promised Captain Janeway he wouldn't disturb her before the conference. But she seemed vulnerable and in need of support.
He had no idea how she felt about him. It was likely he was a pleasant memory, at best. But as he watched her slump forward and massage her forehead, he thought he had never seen anyone in as much need for a friend.
Without thinking any more about it, he walked over to her. She didn't look up as he approached. "It can't be that bad," he said quietly.
Her head jerked up in surprise, and her mouth opened a bit. The sudden light in her eyes was more than gratifying. "Schmullis! I mean, Dr.--oh, I'm sorry, I don't remember."
"Zimmerman," he told her, holding out