Myriad Universes - Infinity's Prism Part 20

As it happened, a number of Caretaker abductees had banded together for mutual protection, thus saving Voyager the effort of tracking them down individually. Most were from the Alpha, Beta, and inner Delta Quadrants, and thus were heading in roughly the same direction. A few were familiar species: Kobheerian, Betelgeusian, Carnelian. The others had been from parts of the galaxy Starfleet had not yet reached, including Vomnin and Shizadam from the Beta Quadrant and Nygeans and S'paaphonn from distant parts of the Delta. Mister Surt himself was a Caretaker abductee, a member of a secretive inner Delta Quadrant civilization known only as the Hierarchy, a people skilled at surveillance and stealth but not big on individual initiative. (Annika Hansen, with her typical playfulness, had dubbed them "the Potato People," and though Janeway strove to discourage such characterizations, she had a hard time denying the resemblance.) He had proven a valuable replacement for Nemulye, the Vostigye ops manager who had been killed in the pa.s.sage through Swarm s.p.a.ce. And his people's cloaking technology would be invaluable for getting the convoy safely back through Swarm territory to the Coalition.

The members of the convoy, which now waited for Voyager in a nearby system, had told of various other abductees they had met or heard of. Some had already found new worlds of their own to settle on, some had been destroyed, and some had headed off on vectors to more distant parts of the galaxy. Janeway had decided to take her search antispinward, toward the Gamma Quadrant, in hopes of intercepting another convoy she'd heard rumors of. They might not be willing to turn back and accept lives in the Coalition, but at least she could offer them supplies and information on the region's dangers before wishing them a good journey.

Still, it was a surprise to encounter a Dominion vessel here; if her knowledge of the Dominion's location was correct, a direct course from Ocampa would not have brought it this close to Coalition s.p.a.ce. They must have been forced to go around a major obstacle, perhaps the Krowtonan Guard she had heard of from the convoy members, or something even more dangerous. At this point, they might welcome the help the Coalition could provide.

Still, Kilana remained skeptical when she had finished. "Why should I believe any of this? It's all some Federation trick!"

"If we wished to deceive you, why wait over four years? We have extensive records that will verify our story."

"And will those records reveal what became of the device that could have sent us home? We heard that it was destroyed by a Starfleet vessel."

Oh, dear. This was a p.r.i.c.kly issue. But she'd found it best to confront it openly. "I was the one who made that decision, Ms. Kilana. If I hadn't, then the Array would have fallen into the hands of the Kazon, and they would not have allowed anyone else to use it to get home. Moreover, they would have used its power to inflict great harm on the species of the region."

"The Kazon are petty thugs. We could have taken the Array from them easily-if you had left us anything to take."

Janeway spread her hands. "Maybe that's so. But what will you accomplish by fighting us over it?"

"Your destruction would only be just."

"But what would it get you? I can offer something better."

Kilana was wary. "Explain."

"You asked about the Delta Coalition. It's an alliance of regional powers united for mutual defense and the sharing of knowledge and resources."

"Just another Federation."

"Is the Dominion so different?" Janeway replied, though privately she was confident that it was. "You also cooperate for mutual benefit."

"We serve the Founders, our G.o.ds. No one else will ever have our allegiance!"

"Uh-oh," Harry muttered.

"We don't require allegiance," Janeway said. "But you'd be welcome as our guests. The Coalition has a.s.sisted many people who had no homes to return to or no hope of seeing home in their lifetimes. Including Voyager and a number of others brought here by the Caretaker. Some of us have clashed with one another back home, but we're a long way from those conflicts here."

Kilana kept up a brave front, but Janeway hadn't become a starship captain without learning how to read people. The Vorta was nervous, uncertain. Janeway recalled her briefings: The Founders of the Dominion were shape-shifters who had genetically engineered their servant races. The Vorta were their bureaucrats, the Jem'Hadar their enforcers. And Kilana's devotion to them seemed absolute. If she had been without the guidance of her "G.o.ds" for over four years, it was no wonder she seemed afraid.

Janeway offered one last incentive. "We have many scientists in the Coalition as well. There are efforts under way to develop transwarp drive or enhanced subs.p.a.ce communication with distant parts of the galaxy. I, for one, still hope to see my homeworld again. There may be hope for you as well."

After a time, Kilana nodded. "Very well. You may escort us to this 'Coalition.' But if this is a trick, you will regret it."

The screen went dark. "Whoa," Harry said. "Now, there's someone who's in over her head. I wonder how she's survived for four years."

"Plenty of battle damage on their hull," Ayala said from tactical. "They've been through a lot of fights, and won. I wouldn't recommend getting on their bad side, Captain."

"We're already there, Mister Ayala. The goal is not to stay there." She smiled. "But if things do get messy, it's good to know we have allies nearby."

Harry shook his head. "I'm still getting used to the idea of the Vidiians as allies."

"So are they. But I think we can count on them in a pinch." Indeed, ever since the Doctor and Danara Pel had cured the Phage, the Vidiians had been beside themselves with grat.i.tude. They were still struggling to rebuild their civilization, but they had pledged their protection to Voyager-still home to the Doctor's core program-as long as it remained anywhere near their territory.

"And this Vorta and her Jem'Hadar?" Harry asked. "Do you think we have a chance of winning them over?"

"I think they have a need for a hierarchy to belong to. Whatever they feel about us, maybe the Coalition can offer them that." She gazed out at the menacing, insectlike vessel. "And the way things are going, we need all the good fighters we can get."

Over the past seven months, Species 8472-or "the Scourge," as it had become popularly known-had solidified its advantage over the Borg. The Collective was scattered, fragmented, nearing total defeat. The Scourge was broadening its attacks, striking at the Coalition's borders as well as sending more vessels to attack the Voth. The uneasy mutual alliance between those two powers had helped hold their raids at bay, but Coalition a.n.a.lysts projected that the conflict would likely escalate soon. If anything, they were surprised that it hadn't already done so.

Harry shook his head. "Voyager, Vostigye, Voth, Vidiians, Vomnin, and now Vorta. What is it with this quadrant?"

"I take it as a good omen," Janeway said, and smiled at his puzzlement. "V for victory."

Harry Kim loved helping Annika Hansen take her clothes off.

It wasn't just due to his admiration of her exceptional beauty; Annika herself took palpable pleasure in disrobing (in private, anyway), and that was what brought him the most joy. After the Doctor had removed her Borg exoskeleton and most of her implants, he'd still required her to wear a close-fitting dermal sheath that protected and nourished her newly formed skin, as well as taking over certain of the exoskeleton's sensory and motor feedback functions, which her remaining implants still required to operate at full efficiency. Wishing to avoid unsightly bulges, the Doctor had secreted the few bulky components of the sheath in high heels that the holographic physician insisted were quite stylish, though Annika insisted she would stumble over them constantly if not for the balance-regulation mechanisms built into them. But stylish or not, the sheath was embarra.s.singly tight for Annika, and she normally wore loose, bright dresses over it.

But as time wore on and her body continued to adapt, Annika was able to spend more time per day out of the constricting sheath, and she preferred Harry to be with her when she did-a sentiment he wholeheartedly shared. True, it was partly because the sheath was easier to remove and put on again if she had a.s.sistance, but he was gratified that it was his a.s.sistance she preferred. He was glad that Captain Janeway had seen fit to maintain a relaxed policy toward shipboard romances since Voyager's recommissioning. Perhaps her own belated relationship with Chakotay-and regret at her long delay in pursuing it-had contributed to that decision. Of course, Annika had no formal rank; a life of leisure in Unimatrix Zero had not been sufficient preparation for service on a Delta Coalition ship. She filled some of the roles Neelix and Kes had performed in the past, helping grow food in the aeroponics bay and then preparing it as the ship's chef. Even though there was no longer any need to ration replicator use, Voyager's crew still enjoyed meals prepared by hand-and frankly, they found Annika's culinary tastes rather more palatable than Neelix's.

Finally the sheath fell free, and Annika stepped forward and stretched, reveling in the freedom. Harry was happy to watch her. He looked forward to doing much more, but she enjoyed taking time to revel in the air against her skin and the freedom of movement. She liked to make conversation while he watched, to distract him from his inevitable reactions to the sight. "That Kilana's pretty," she said.

"I didn't notice."

She threw him a skeptical look, her full lips quirking. "I didn't like those Jem-har of hers."

"Jem'Hadar."

"Whatever. They were really unfriendly, and didn't even try the food."

"Their loss. But they're good fighters. They could be useful against the Scourge."

Her skepticism grew more serious. "Unlikely. All they have is fighting prowess. We have plenty of fighters already. What can they do against a power as advanced as the Scourge?"

Harry was reminded again of the keen mind that resided beneath her girlish manner. He'd been hesitant to respond to her interest at first, not wanting to take advantage of her inexperience. Also, in the wake of B'Elanna, he'd entertained a hope that he might be able to build a relationship with Lyndsay Ballard, whom he'd had a crush on since the Academy. But his duties and Lyndsay's had kept them apart, and in her correspondence, she had shown no more than friendly interest in him. Whereas Annika had quickly proven that she was sharp-witted and also very determined, skilled at getting what she wanted and not easily bent to others' wishes. She'd also proven that her life in Unimatrix Zero had given her considerable experience in matters of physical intimacy. She still sometimes mourned for Axum, her lover in the virtual world. She had never known where he was located in real life, but if he was anywhere close enough to be reached in less than half a lifetime, he had most likely died in the war already. But she was strong and adaptable, so she had coped with her loss and moved on with her life, deciding to make Harry a part of it. By the time he'd rejoined Voyager's crew, any thoughts of romance with Lyndsay Ballard were well behind him.

"You have a point," he told Annika. "But we have to offer them some useful role to play, or you're right, they could be dangerous."

"And Kilana?"

He pondered. "I don't know. She seems strictly middle management to me. Her people have a lot of knowledge, but these Founders apparently control it. I think she's out of her depth, frankly."

Annika grew contemplative. "What's wrong?" Harry asked.

"I just wish I had a more useful role to play. All I do is cook and putter around in the garden. I'm a housewife."

"You play a valuable role for this crew. There's nothing wrong with what you do."

"But I could be doing so much more. The Doctor says I have all this Borg knowledge locked in my head, but I can't remember any of it! I can see when the captain looks at me-she thinks I could help fight the Scourge if I could remember what the Borg knew about them. And I've tried, I really have! But I can't get at it."

He took her in his arms. "I consider that a blessing. Would you really want to remember the things that happened to you as a Borg? The things you-" He broke off.

But she refused to be coddled. "The things I did? The lives I destroyed?"

"That wasn't your fault."

"Even so, is it right to hide from it? To go through life like it never happened?"

"And would remembering it make any of it better?"

"If I remembered, maybe I could do something to help stop the Scourge. Maybe that would make amends for some of it."

He stroked her long, golden hair. "Look...I'm not sure it'd help, anyway. The Borg are losing the war, badly. They hardly exist anymore. There may not be anything you know that could help."

She sighed. "Maybe you're right," she said, but he could tell she wasn't convinced.

But then she laughed self-deprecatingly, her smile brightening the room. "I guess I could use some cheering up," she told him. "You have any ideas?"

He smiled back. "I have a few."

9.

The Casciron shuttle swooped and slalomed through the mountains of Kovoran, hugging their crags so closely that it left the occasional smear of paint behind. In the pa.s.senger seats, Danros and Gerron were taut with fear. But their pilot was loving it. For B'Elanna Torres, the exhilaration of facing death and barely sc.r.a.ping free of its clutches was the only thing that made her feel alive.

Sure, the goal was nominally to stay under the Kovoran sensor grid, to get close enough to the Vostigye research base to plant the charges that would bring it down. B'Elanna had been as angry as anyone else in the resistance upon learning of the biological experiments being conducted on the Casciron refugees on this planet. Apparently the Vostigye weren't content to live in their s.p.a.cegoing tin cans and let the Casciron find planets where they could live independently. No, they had to plant colonies so they could claim more territory and make excuses for keeping the Casciron from finding a home. And even once they'd stripped them of their stings, they couldn't leave them alone; no, they had to use them in some sick medical experiment.

Oh, no doubt they would excuse it as something to help the war effort against the Scourge. B'Elanna had to hand it to Kathryn Janeway and her lap dog Chakotay-they'd done wonders bringing the sensibilities of the Federation to the Delta Quadrant. Just like the Federation, their Delta Coalition spoke of peace and inclusion, then made deals with monsters and overlooked their abuses when it served their own interests. Back with the Maquis, B'Elanna had preferred to strike at Carda.s.sian targets, doing her best not to harm Federation citizens, whom she held blameless for the mistakes of their leaders. Now, she no longer cared to hold back. The Vostigye were the real monsters, and their friendly face as they a.s.similated and exploited other cultures just made them all the worse.

More, though, she just needed to feel something. Grieving and moving on hadn't worked; how could she move on from losing everyone who'd ever mattered to her? The distraction of s.e.x hadn't worked; she'd indulged Gerron's interest for an evening here and there, but when she tried to invest herself in it, she was reminded too much of the one man she strove not to think about-the man who had taken her capacity for love with him when he died. The only thing that fulfilled her was the fight-any fight. Anything that let her feel death's fingers closing around her and then kick its teeth in one more time.

And if death won the next round? Well, what difference would it make to anyone, really?

But B'Elanna managed to stay just ahead of death's clutches this time, bringing the shuttle down safely in range of the research facility. Half an hour later, she'd snuck her team past its security perimeter, their biosigns masked by her equipment, and Danros planted the charges around the administrative section, away from the labs and confinement areas where the Casciron subjects would be held. Gerron still looked uncertain. "Maybe we should wait until the building's empty," the young Bajoran said.

"And how will that avenge our fallen?" Danros growled. By Casciron standards, being mutilated and experimented on was worse than being killed outright. But death was an adequate revenge for Danros's purposes.

"We don't just want to take out the building," B'Elanna added. "As long as the scientists are still around, we haven't solved anything. And if our spies are right, there are some Coalition officials in there too-maybe the ones who approved these experiments in the first place. I say they're getting what they deserve."

"Even if it brings down harsher reprisals?"

Her answer was practically a snarl. "Bring it on."

They retreated to the woods next to the compound. The honor of setting off the charges fell to Danros, and B'Elanna almost envied him. She wasn't nearly as eager to inflict death as to invite it, but she disliked the numbness that came over her when she didn't have a dangerous or destructive task to get her adrenaline racing.

Still, the explosion was loud and devastating and cathartic, and then would come the thrill of eluding pursuit as they raced back to the shuttle...

But then she thought she heard a familiar voice from the wreckage.

She turned back, ignoring the others' calls. It couldn't be. But as she jogged closer, halting just on the edge of the woods, she heard the cry again, a rough, throaty scream she'd recognize anywhere, calling a name she'd recognize anywhere: "Neelix!"

B'Elanna raced forward, not caring what kind of security might be converging. She needed to see for herself. She came around the ruins of the outer wall and saw a familiar elfin figure, lithe and golden-haired, surrounded by rubble and flames and showing no sign of injury. There were bodies around her, both Vostigye and Casciron. No! There shouldn't have been Casciron in this part of the complex! Pieces of debris were flying away as though recoiling from her gaze. And under some of that debris was an equally familiar figure, chubby and garishly attired, bleeding and gasping for breath. "Oh no!" Kes cried again, reaching his side and kneeling over him.

Then Kes looked up at her, and B'Elanna realized that she'd been moving closer, stumbling through the rubble without even thinking about it. She didn't know if she could form a thought right now, didn't know if she wanted to. "Kes..." she began.

Then orange light flared in those gray-green eyes, and B'Elanna's head filled with agony, and she gave herself gladly to oblivion.

It had all been going so well.

Kes had spent months working on a medical solution to the Casciron problem where political solutions had failed. Finally, working with her staff on Moskelar Station, she had devised an inoculation that would protect Vostigye and other species from Casciron venom, hoping it would convince the Vostigye politicians to reverse their laws designating Casciron stingers as illicit lethal weapons. Under pressure from the Coalition, the Legislature had begun to draft such a reversal, though its pa.s.sage was contingent upon the success of her trials here on Kovoran. She'd also devised an experimental treatment that would enable the Casciron settlers on Kovoran, who had consented to have their venom glands and stings removed as a precondition for settling here, to regrow the organs and be whole again in the eyes of their culture.

She had chosen Kovoran for her tests because it was home to the most contentious conflict between Vostigye and Casciron. Despite that, both sides had shown a guarded willingness to cooperate, though suspicions were high. Kes had asked Neelix to accompany her, hoping the Amba.s.sador at Large would use his acclaimed diplomatic skills to rea.s.sure both sides and facilitate their cooperation. It had been delightful to spend time with her old friend again, and it made her proud to see how important he'd become, how much good he'd done at bringing people together. And it had seemed that he was making good progress at persuading the two Kovoranese factions to cooperate on this project.

But then the explosion had occurred and the conference room had collapsed around her, Neelix, and the representatives of both sides. Kes had instinctively raised a telekinetic shield around herself, but it had happened too quickly for her to do more, and Neelix had been across the room at the time.

There were a few other survivors, all in serious medical need, but it had been Neelix she had rushed to. She had felt that he needed her the most, and she didn't really care if it was a selfish impulse. She would not let anything happen to Neelix. It was as simple as that. The debris between them went away, and he was there, but he was choking, gasping, unable to breathe. "Oh no!"

As she knelt by his side, she sensed a new presence moving through the rubble. "Kes..."

And with that one word, Kes knew what B'Elanna Torres had done. It burned brightly on the surface of B'Elanna's mind. A mind that was scarred, imbalanced, lost in what the doctor in Kes recognized as severe clinical depression.

Kes didn't care, though. The woman had hurt Neelix. So Kes put her down hard. She stopped short of doing permanent harm, but allowed herself satisfaction at the act.

But then she put it aside and turned back to Neelix. "It's all right, sweeting," she told him, fury instantly replaced with tenderness. "You'll be all right. Try to stay calm." But sheer somatic instinct was driving him as he gasped for breath. Surveying him quickly with her eyes and mind, she saw no obvious injury that could account for itYes. Of course. She reached deeper, feeling the piece of herself that lived inside him: her own lung, donated when his lungs had been stolen by the Vidiians. It had been adapted to suit him using Vidiian techniques, but still, it was an Ocampa lung, an organ bred by nature for no more than a decade of use. And since Neelix was more ma.s.sive than she, it had been carrying more than twice its intended load for nearly half that time. The trauma of the explosion and the dust Neelix had inhaled had overwhelmed the tired organ, and it was failing.

What do I do? If the Doctor were here, he could fix it. He must have been aware of the risk, and he'd had years to improve his understanding of Talaxian physiology and devise a more permanent replacement. But none of his avatars was nearby, and the base's medical facilities had been destroyed.

None of that matters, she told herself. Neelix will not die.

Laying her head upon his chest, she reached into him with her mind, feeling every cell of him, every particle. She saw what they were, and she told them what she needed them to become. They demanded energy to make the change, and she fed it to them, giving freely of herself. Take everything I have, she told them, told him. Share my life, as you always have. As you always will.

We are one.

"What do you mean, I have my lungs back?"

Kes blushed, a response that thoroughly charmed Neelix. Even with all her power, her amazing accomplishments, she was still the most una.s.suming soul he'd ever known. "I...seem to have triggered a...regeneration. It's happened before; with help from Tanis, I was able to accelerate the growth of plants. I've experimented with developing that ability since my powers were augmented, but I never dared to try it on an animal or a person." She looked away guiltily.

He took her hand. "Well, I'm very glad you took a chance on it this time. Obviously it worked." He paused. "It did work, didn't it? The lungs will...stay?"

Kes nodded. "They're as good as new, the doctors say."

He frowned. "What about...your old lung? Is it...still in there?"

She grinned at the image. "Actually your body drew matter from it to grow the new lungs from. I can't make matter appear from nowhere. Umm, the rest of the ma.s.s was drawn from elsewhere in your body, which is why you feel so hungry and dehydrated."

"Hm. I thought I looked a little thinner." He took a deep breath, amazed at just how deep it was. "Oh, my. It hasn't felt like that in a long time." Kes giggled, which made his chest swell again.