AUTHOR'S NOTE: Contrary to my usual rule, I'm starting to publish chapters of this story before I've finished writing it. As a result, you'll probably have to bear with me between chapters as life and writer's block take their toll. Encouragement, as always, will doubtless speed the process. Enjoy.
Lead Me Through the Fire
Part One
Heaven bend to take my hand We believe that we could change ourselves -Sarah McLachlan, "Fallen"
And lead me through the fire
Be the long awaited answer
To a long and painful fight
Truth be told I've tried my best
But somewhere 'long the way,
I got caught up in all there was to offer,
And the cost was so much more than I could bear
That the past can be undone
But we carry on our back the burden time always reveals
In the lonely light of morning
In the wound that would not heal
It's the bitter taste of losing everything
That I've held so dear
.....
Personal log, Admiral Kathryn Janeway, Stardate 80986.5.
I don't know why I'm making this recording. If I fail, this log will be pointless. If I succeed, none of what I'm about to relate will ever have happened and this log will cease to exist. And so will I, or at least the person that I am right now... in which case, I will never have been moved to bring about the changes that altered the timeline.
I hate temporal paradoxes. I can already feel a headache coming on.
Even though this log will never matter, I feel I need to do this. To explain why I'm doing what I'm doing, even if there isn't anyone there to hear it.
Thirty-three years ago, I made a decision that stranded two crews seventy thousand lightyears from home. I don't regret that decision, at least not now... but there are other things, other decisions, that I do regret. It took twenty-three years and the lives of nearly a third of my crew to get home.
But it didn't have to. And when I'm finished, it won't.
Twenty-six years ago.... that's when things started to go wrong. And it was all because of the Borg....
.....
"We can't just give up on those wormholes!"
Kathryn Janeway pressed her lips together firmly. She could hear seven years of disappointed hopes and missed opportunities in the voice of her operations officer. It took tremendous effort to keep her voice steady and commanding. "Oh yes, we can."
Harry Kim's eyes darted back and forth, searching for a solution, refusing to give up. "What if we try to modify --"
"I'm sorry, Mr. Kim," she interrupted, her tone firm but gentle. "You may be the captain someday... but not today."
A heavy silence hung over the briefing room. The image of the nebula swarming with Borg cubes was still fresh in the minds of the senior staff.
"Dismissed," said Janeway quietly. She turned her back to the window to avoid seeing the expressions on their faces as they slowly filed out of the room.
She heard the doors to the briefing room slide shut with a soft hiss, but she knew she wasn't alone. Her eyes remained fixed on the nebula in the distance for several seconds before she glanced over her shoulder at her first officer.
He raised his eyebrow at her. She shook her head slightly, and he nodded in resignation and left her alone to stare at the nebula and contemplate what might have been, but for the Borg.
.....
The turbolift was silent except for the gentle undulating hum as it slid between the decks of the ship, the four occupants lost in thought. Harry, his arms crossed and a sullen expression on his face, was staring at the floor grimly. Tom next to him appeared lost in his own thoughts as well, albeit more pleasant ones than Harry. Tuvok and Seven of Nine maintained their usual stoic silence, staring ahead at the turbolift doors.
Several more decks passed without a word. When the lift slowed and the doors opened, Tom stepped out and started down the corridor. The doors began to slide shut, but after a moment's hesitation, Harry started out of his reverie and stepped quickly out the doors before they closed, chasing after Tom.
"Astrometrics," said Seven, and the lift began moving again. When Tuvok remained silent, she turned and asked, "Is that your destination as well, Commander?"
Tuvok seemed as startled as a Vulcan could be. It was a few seconds before he nodded.
Seven frowned, curious. It was unusual to see Tuvok this preoccupied. "Commander, may I ask you something?"
"Of course."
"Do you agree with the captain's decision?"
He frowned slightly in disapproval. After a moment, he said, "I believe it would be unwise to attempt to re-enter the nebula."
The turbolift stopped and the pair began moving down the corridor in the direction of Astrometrics. "The captain's goal is to return Voyager to the Alpha Quadrant," said Seven matter-of-factly as they walked. "There may be thousands of wormholes inside the nebula. You do not believe that it would have been worth an attempt, despite the risks?"
"I do not."
"You believe Voyager would be assimilated."
"It is illogical to dwell on a decision that has already been made," he replied, avoiding the question.
"If you spoke with the captain, perhaps she would change her mind about entering the nebula."
They had reached Astrometrics. "I was not under the impression that you were eager to return to the Alpha Quadrant, Seven."
"I... am not," said Seven, taken by surprise. "I was merely attempting to understand why you supported the captain's decision when you wish to return to the Alpha Quadrant."
"I supported the captain's decision because she is the captain."
Seven raised an eyebrow but made no reply. Tuvok glanced inside Astrometrics, then stepped back from the door. "If you will excuse me, I have security reports to complete."
Seven watched him move away from her down the hallway, a puzzled expression on her face.
.....
Captain Janeway strode onto the bridge with a confidence in her step she didn't entirely feel. "Helm, resume course," she said, her tone lacking none of its usual command.
"Aye, Captain," said Ensign Jenkins softly.
Word of their latest encounter with the Borg had likely spread through the ship like a plasma fire, thought Janeway as she looked around at the melancholy faces of the bridge crew. Doubtless it had been accompanied by news of the discovery of wormholes within the nebula. Yet another opportunity lost.
"I'll be in my ready room," she said finally. She could feel the eyes of the bridge officers on her.
Chakotay immediately rose from his seat. "Want a hand with those crew reports?"
She opened her mouth to decline but was overcome by a sudden desire for companionship. She nodded, and he followed her silently into the ready room.
Moving around her desk, she sat limply in her chair. She leaned back and pinched the bridge of her nose, a gesture so familiar it was almost involuntary. Opening her eyes after a few seconds, she looked at the large stack of PADDs on one corner of her desk and sighed. She reached for the first one, but Chakotay gently put his hand on her arm to stop the motion. "Kathryn...."
"Let me guess. You didn't actually want to discuss the crew reports."
He smiled but was watching her closely. "There's no fooling you."
She stared at him, waiting for the question she knew was coming.
"Are you all right?"
"Going into that nebula would have been suicide, Chakotay. I know, I know," she added quickly, holding up her hand as he opened his mouth to speak. "It could also have been our best chance in seven years to get back to the Alpha Quadrant. But as much as I want to get this crew home, it's too great a risk."
"And yet...?"
"There is no 'and yet,' Chakotay. Not this time. I know we've faced the Borg before, but not like this. Even in Unimatrix One we had the Hansens' stealth technology, but they've long since adapted to that. Voyager's a good ship, but she wouldn't last long enough for us to find the right wormhole. Not with those odds. I won't take that kind of risk."
"We'll manage. We'll find another way home."
"My grandfather always used to say, 'when one door closes, a window opens.'" She sighed. "Have I been missing the windows, Chakotay?"
"The Kathryn Janeway I know wouldn't wait for someone to open a window for her -- she'd take a phaser and blast one herself."
She smiled. "I'll keep that in mind." She turned back to the work in front of her, and taking his cue Chakotay rose and left her alone. As the doors shut behind him, she let the PADD she was reading drop back on the desk and shut her eyes. There will be other days, she told herself. I'll get this crew home.
.....
Four cubes destroyed. Another seven badly damaged. Four hundred twelve thousand, six hundred and fifty four Borg dead.
Unacceptable. The thought resonated through the Borg Collective.
An incalculable number of neurons firing randomly, all connected to each other, paused for a fraction of a second. When they began firing again, they had been given a direction. Trillions of minds worked as one, calculating risks, outcomes, and probabilities.
The Borg Queen's eyes snapped open as her torso was connected to her mechanical body. She inhaled deeply, feeling her drones respond to her consciousness as easily as the limbs now under her direct control.
"This threat must be eliminated. Their resistance will be futile," she said to the empty chamber. Her words echoed through every mind in the Collective. "We must assimilate more information."
The Collective agreed.
The Queen's eyes lit up with demonic pleasure uncharacteristic of the automatons under her direction as she ordered three cubes from the nearest sector to intercept Voyager.
.....
Harry Kim waited patiently for the turbolift in the corridor of deck four before his morning shift. He brought his coffee cup to his lips and was just about to take a sip when something hit him on the back, hard. Thrown forward, he accidentally swallowed a rather large gulp of coffee. He coughed loudly and turned around to see Tom standing behind him with a large grin on his face.
"Mornin', Harry."
Harry's eyes narrowed as he wiped coffee off the front of his uniform. "You're in a good mood this morning."
"What's not to be in a good mood about?" asked Tom as they stepped into the turbolift. "Bridge."
Harry grinned in understanding. "No false alarms last night?"
"Not a single one. That's the first night of uninterrupted sleep I've had in a week."
Harry's grin widened. "I hope you enjoyed it. Might be your last for a very, very long time."
Tom was unphased. "Harry, Harry, Harry," he admonished as they stepped off the turbolift on to the bridge, "nothing is going to ruin my good mood this morning."
No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the lights on the bridge darkened and the pulsing alarm of a red alert sounded. Harry turned to his friend with a raised eyebrow. "Oh yeah?"
"Report," barked Captain Janeway, striding out of her ready room.
"Two Borg cubes have just dropped out of transwarp two thousand kilometers to port," reported Tuvok as Harry and Tom took their stations.
"Ready weapons," she ordered as she took her seat. "Evasive maneuvers."
"They're closing fast," said Tom as he tried in vain to evade the much larger oncoming ships.
The bridge crew was braced for the impact of the first torpedo, but not the two that followed immediately after. The bulkheads reverberated under their feet.
"Shields at 78 percent," reported Tuvok. The two cubes swept past Voyager and loomed on the viewscreen.
"Return fire," snapped Janeway.
The torpedoes sailed from Voyager's underbelly and impacted harmlessly against the sides of the metal behemoths that were again drawing closer. Another volley of torpedoes sailed towards the small Starfleet vessel and pounded sequentially against the shields.
"We could try to outrun them at warp," suggested Chakotay.
The captain shook her head, a stray piece of hair swinging out of place. She brushed it out of the way. "We'd only end up burning out the engines."
Another series of concussions rocked the ship, throwing the command team to their knees.
"Shields are at 57 percent," said Tuvok. "Structural integrity is holding."
"Mr. Paris!" snapped the captain as Chakotay helped her to her feet.
"I'm trying! They're too close for me to keep us out of the line of fire."
A shower of sparks exploded from the roof of the bridge. The main lights flickered for a few seconds before the bridge was plunged into semi-darkness.
"We've lost main power," said Harry. "I can't bring auxiliary online."
"Janeway to Engineering."
There was no answer.
"Engineering, please respond."
"The comm's down."
"Get it back, Harry."
"Yes, ma'am."
The ship began to jerk rhythmically around them as the two cubes peppered Voyager with torpedoes.
Tuvok frowned as an alarm beeped on his console. "Captain, I am detecting another Borg ship approaching."
Captain Janeway pressed her lips into a tight line but said nothing as she turned the situation over in her head.
Chakotay stepped closer so that he was standing just over her shoulder. "We can't outmaneuver three of them," he said quietly.
The floor shifted under them and he grabbed her arm to steady her. "We can't even outmaneuver two of them," she replied, an undercurrent of tension in her voice.
Two of the torpedoes struck the shields at the same time, sending a violent shockwave through every bulkhead of the ship and throwing the command team violently to the floor.
The captain pulled herself to her feet, slower than the last time and wincing as she put weight on her left ankle. "Report!"
"Weapons are down," said Tuvok, his eyes searching his console. "Forward shields are at 27 percent... aft shields are down... hull breach on deck six."
"The comm?"
After a few seconds, Harry nodded. "I've rerouted it to emergency power."
"Good work. Bridge to engineering -- report."
Engineering here, Captain, came the voice of Lieutenant Nicolletti over the comm. The antimatter injector is offline... we're dead in the water.
"How long until we have warp?" asked Chakotay.
It could take hours to repair.
"Options?" demanded Captain Janeway, looking around the bridge.
"There is a class five asteroid field twenty-five million kilometers away," reported Seven. "It has high concentrations of thalium which should impair the Borg sensors, at least temporarily."
"If we landed and reduced our energy signature," said Harry, "we'd be all but invisible to their sensors."
She nodded curtly. "Janeway to Engineering -- I don't care how you do it, but I need ten seconds of warp power."
Captain, the --
"Just do it," she ordered.
There was a short pause. Aye, Captain.
The captain moved towards the helm, stumbling as Voyager was hit with another Borg volley. "Tom, I need you to keep us in one piece until we can jump to warp."
"Yes, ma'am," he replied, taking Voyager into a wide sweeping turn to avoid another slew of Borg torpedoes.
Sickbay to Lieutenant Paris, hailed the Doctor. I think you should come down here.
"I know you have casualties, Doctor," interrupted Janeway, the stress of the battle starting to tell in the edge in her voice, "but you'll have to make due without Tom for now."
It's B'Elanna. She's in labour.
All the colour drained from Tom's face and instant silence fell on the bridge. "Is she okay?" he demanded. "And the baby?"
Aside from the expected discomfort and the unfortunate timing, they're both doing fine.
Tom looked back down at his console, torn between his wife and unborn daughter and his duty. He felt the captain's hand on his shoulder, and knew why. After several seconds, his shoulders slumped in defeat. "Keep me informed, Doc. I'm... needed here."
Of course.
Captain Janeway gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze then wordlessly turned and moved back towards her seat. Trying to conceal his inner turmoil, Tom brought his focus back to the job at hand, using every inch of power he could muster from the engines to keep Voyager out of the reach of the Borg cubes.
.....
Lieutenant Nicolletti banged her fist against the console in frustration. "Dammit! Tabor, try again."
The young Bajoran engineer shook his head. "It's no good, Lieutenant."
Her hand resting on the console began to tremble. She removed it and clenched a fist. She wasn't supposed to be in this mess. She wasn't supposed to be the one making these decisions.
She turned to Ensign Vorik, working diligently but calmly at the console next to her. "Vorik, I'm going to inject the antimatter manually. You're in charge."
His eyebrows rose. "That would be highly dangerous."
"It's also highly necessary."
"Perhaps you should check with Captain Janeway before --"
"We don't have time for that. When the core comes online, you'll only have about fifteen seconds of warp, so move quickly."
She began to move towards a nearby access ladder, and Vorik followed. "Lieutenant --"
She turned, her jaw set and her expression determined. "Look, Vorik... this needs to be done, and I'm... I'm not ordering somebody else to do it." Her expression softened. "If B'Elanna or Joe were here, you know they'd be doing the exact same thing. But they're not, so it's up to us to get it done."
He considered her for several seconds. "Be careful, Lieutenant."
She nodded with a small smile. "I'll try."
With that, she climbed began climbing down the ladder, being careful to maintain a solid grip in case of a sudden jolt. When she reached the bottom, she sprinted for the controls to the antimatter injector and removed the safety cover. She stared at the complex machinery for a moment before she gripped the lever. With her free hand, she hit her commbadge. "Nicolletti to bridge... prepare to jump to warp."
Acknowledged, responded Tom.
"Assuming this works," she muttered to herself. Taking a deep breath, she gripped the large red lever solidly and then pulled down with all her weight.
.....
"We've got warp," said Tom.
"Get us out of here," ordered Janeway.
The command had barely passed her lips when Voyager jumped to warp. The stars on the viewscreen merged into a kaleidoscope of light for a few seconds before the warp engines died again and the ship was jolted back into normal space.
"Report."
"It was sufficient," reported Seven. "The asteroid field is directly ahead."
"Tom, take us in, full impulse, then kill the engines and double back on thrusters. That should confuse them, at least temporarily."
"Aye, Captain."
"Seven, start scanning for a stable asteroid where we can set the ship down. I have a feeling the Borg aren't going to give up easily... chances are we'll be stuck here for a while."
"Aye, Captain."
"We should evacuate all personnel to crucial areas," suggested Chakotay, "and shut down life support on the remaining decks."
"That won't be enough," said Harry grimly. "The thalium isn't quite as dense as we thought... we'll have to shut down all power or their sensors might pick us up."
Tom turned away from the helm and stared at his friend with a horrified expression. "What about Sickbay?"
Harry looked at the Captain, then back at Tom. "It has to be everything, Tom," he said slowly. "Doc can manage on an emergency generator." Tom opened his mouth as if to object, but returned to his piloting without saying a word.
"We won't be able to hold out more than three or four hours without life support," Chakotay observed quietly to the Captain.
"And we won't be able to make much progress on repairs with only emergency generators," she replied, her expression tense. "But we don't have a choice." She sighed. "We'll just have to hope the Borg get tired of looking for us before then."
"I believe I've found a suitable landing site," said Seven, interrupting the command team's hushed conversation.
Tom snorted. "You sure can pick 'em, Seven."
"You've always said you could land a ship on a dime," smirked Harry, glad for the momentary relief of tension.
"A dime?" asked Seven, confused.
"Never mind," said Harry.
"Mr. Paris?" queried the captain, interrupting the exchange.
"I might scrape a little paint off the hull, but I can land her."
"Then do it." She took her seat, then added: "And Mr. Paris, if you so much as put a scratch on my ship I'll send you out in a environmental suit to repaint her."
He smiled wryly. After the beating they had just taken from the Borg cubes, he could only imagine what kind of a mess the exterior of the ship was in. "Yes, ma'am."
Harry's console beeped. "Our friends just got here. We should have at least a minute or two before they figure out that our ion trail is a dead end."
"Tom, get us down, now."
"Aye, Captain." Skipping half of the items on Starfleet's recommended procedure for landing an Intrepid-class starship, Tom quickly deployed the three landing struts on the underside of the ship and took Voyager into a steep descent, aiming for the relatively flat area of a large asteroid that Seven had detected.
"All hands, brace for impact," said Janeway, gripping the arms of her seat.
Voyager dove closer and closer to the asteroid's rocky surface. Tom flattened out at the last possible second and set the ship down with a resounding thud as the landing struts ground against the uneven ice and rock beneath them. The ship slid several meters before its momentum dissipated and it ground to a halt on the desolate surface of the asteroid.
"The cubes are following our previous course," said Seven as the bridge crew recovered from the rough landing. "They appear to have detected our ion trail."
"Shut everything down," ordered the Captain tersely. She saw Tom start to object, but she held up a hand with a sympathetic but firm expression. "I'm sorry, Tom, but you'll have to take the Jeffries tubes to Sickbay."
He nodded, and started for the access port at the back of the bridge.
Janeway turned to Tuvok. "Keep an eye on those cubes. If they spot us, we'll be vulnerable -- we'll need to be able to restore power and get out of here as quickly as possible, on thrusters and without weapons if we have to."
"Aye, Captain."
The lights on the bridge went out and they were thrown into complete darkness. One by one, they all turned on their wrist lights, illuminating the bridge in irregular moving beams.
"Mr. Kim?"
"Everything's shut down except minimal sensors. We shouldn't be giving off any power signature detectable over the thalium and the EM radiation from the asteroid as long as we don't have more than half a dozen emergency generators going."
Captain Janeway nodded, then turned to the barely illuminated form of her First Officer beside her.
"And now?" he said.
Her expression was grim. "And now... now, we wait."
.....
Tom could hear B'Elanna's yells of anguish before he even reached the last junction on deck five. With life support disengaged, the Jeffries tube was unbearably stuffy. Spurred on by another cry from his wife, he finally reached the access door at the end of the tunnel. It popped open with his second push.
He stuck his head out and was instantly blinded by a light shining directly in his face. "Who's there?" a harried voice demanded.
"Relax, Doc," he said, shielding his eyes. "It's me."
"Mr. Paris," said the hologram, relieved. "I thought perhaps we had been boarded."
"I doubt the Borg would use the Jeffries tubes... Doc, do you mind lowering that light?"
"Oh -- of course." The EMH complied and stepped forward to help Tom out of the Jeffries tube.
B'Elanna groaned from somewhere in the darkness nearby. "Tom? Is that you?"
Scanning the room in the direction of the sound, Tom located his wife on a biobed to his left. "Yeah. How are you doing?"
"How do you think I'm doing?" she demanded. "I want this OVER WITH AARRRRRGGGHHH!" She groped for and found his hand, squeezing it with incredible force as another contraction gripped her.
Grimacing, Tom turned to the Doctor. "Her labour is progressing normally," the Doctor informed him, "although perhaps a little faster than I expected." He leveled a reproving glare at B'Elanna that penetrated the darkness of the room. "Most likely due to her labour being induced by a fall rather than naturally."
"What?" said Tom.
"She was brought in by Crewman Yosa. He said she was on her way to Engineering and lost her balance during the attack."
"B'Elanna...."
"What did you expect me to do?" she demanded. "Sit in my quarters while the ship got blown to pieces?"
Tom refrained from arguing with her, as well as from pointing out that she had specifically agreed to stay away from Engineering until the baby was born. "What can I do to help?" he asked the Doctor.
"I'll need an emergency generator set up," he replied. "There should be one next to my office. You can hook up an incubator, as well."
B'Elanna groaned as she was hit with another contraction and the Doctor scanned her, running the small wand over her swollen belly with a frown. "Hm... you're still progressing much quicker than I'd like, Lieutenant."
She growled and shot him a look that would have frozen molten lava. "Speak for yourself."
.....
Captain's log, Stardate 55012.7 It's now been an hour and a half since we took refuge in the asteroid field. The Borg do not appear to have detected us, but they're not giving up either. The crew is becoming uncomfortable without life support, but until the Borg leave us alone I have no choice but to maintain the status quo.
Crewman Tal Celes hurried across main Engineering, keeping her eyes fixed on the beam of her wrist light as it tracked slowly across the floor, making sure she didn't trip as she made her way blindly towards the storage locker. She was nearly halfway there when she smacked headfirst into something and landed on the floor.
Scrambling backwards, she lifted up one arm and directed her light at whatever it was she had run in to. "C-captain Janeway?" she stammered, mortified. "W-what are you doing down here?"
"I wasn't aware I was confined to the bridge."
Celes' eyes widened at her unintended impertinence. "I-I didn't mean --" She stepped forward and helped the captain up. "I'm so sorry, I, I can't see anything with this light and I was trying not to trip because Ensign Ashmore wanted a --"
Janeway raised her hand to stop the young Bajoran's rambling. "As you were, crewman."
"Y-yes, ma'am." Celes hurried off towards the storage locker.
"Captain Janeway. Is there a problem?" Vorik asked, leaving his station and walking over to meet her.
"I thought I might make myself useful instead of sitting around the bridge waiting," she replied. "Where is Lieutenant Nicolletti?"
"In Sickbay," said Vorik. "She sustained a concussion while manually activating the antimatter injector." He turned and began leading the captain towards the darkened warp core. "I believed our first priority would be to restore the warp drive in case we are discovered."
"Good. How long?"
"It could take several hours. Our resources are severely limited; several of the crew were injured during the battle or the landing."
"Use any other personnel you need." Janeway began striding purposefully around the warp core, surveying the ongoing repairs in the darkness, punctuated by the moving beams from the crew's wrist lights. "I'll survey the repairs here; they seem to be well under control. Take a team and get to work on the shields."
"Of course, captain."
"Ensign," continued the captain, "we need the weapons up and running."
"Primary and secondary phaser couplings are fused," reported Ensign Ashmore. "We'll have to get in there and repair them manually. We also need to repair the power manifold on the torpedo launchers."
"Take only as many people as you need to get it done within the hour."
"Yes, ma'am."
She watched as Vorik and Ashmore began to gather some of the crew to assist them, then turned towards Ensign Tabor, who was working at a panel near the core. "Well, Ensign, what have we got?"
.....
"Breathe, B'Elanna. Breathe."
"I... can't!"
"Yes, you can. Just like we practiced, remember? In... out. In... out."
B'Elanna squeezed her eyes shut and tried to concentrate. She managed to take a few controlled breaths before she began gasping irregularly again. She moaned. "I can't breathe."
Tom squeezed her hand and ran the back of his hand over her forehead. They were both sweating from the rising humidity and the air felt thinner. "I know. We can't risk turning life support on or those cubes might see us."
She nodded with effort. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."
"Maybe you should register a complaint with the Collective," he smirked.
"I think I willAAAAAAAAAARRRRRGGGGGH!"
Tom winced as she crushed his hand in her grip as the contraction grew in intensity. "Something's wrong," she gasped, her chest heaving as she tried desperately to fill her lungs.
She cried out from another contraction just as one of the monitors next to the bed went off. Doc rushed over from an injured crewman that he had been treating for plasma burns.
"What is it?" demanded B'Elanna.
"The baby's heart rate is dropping," said the hologram with a frown.
"Is she okay?"
"Not for long."
Tom immediately snapped into action. "We need a fetal transport."
"Lieutenant!" Startled, Tom turned to face the EMH. "The Borg might be able to detect the transport."
"But --"
"You heard the captain. We must keep our energy signature to a minim--"
"This is my daughter we're talking about!"
"I know, but --"
B'Elanna cried out again and clutched her stomach. The alarms from the monitors became more insistent. Ignoring the EMH, Tom moved to the control panel. "Get the incubator ready," he said.
The hologram stood his ground. "Lieutenant, I'm sorry, but if --"
Tom fixed him with a furious stare the doctor had never seen him use. "I'll shut down your program if you force me to, Doc."
The hologram opened and closed his mouth, looking from Tom's determined expression to B'Elanna's pleading gaze.
"Do you want my daughter's life on your conscience?" snapped Tom.
Doc stared back at Tom for several seconds, then joined him at the console. "Get the transporter ready while I monitor her vitals and the contractions. We'll give her another minute, then prepare for transport."
.....
Captain Janeway brushed her hair out of her face and crouched back down next to the damaged power coupling she was trying to repair.
Her commbadge chirped. "Janeway here," she said tersely.
Captain, said Chakotay, Harry has just detected a transport in progress.
She tensed, as did several of the crew nearby who could overhear the conversation. "Borg?"
It came from Sickbay.
It only took her a few seconds to realize what had happened. "Any sign we've been spotted?"
Not yet. But they may have...
There was silence for several seconds. "Chakotay?" she prompted, fearing the worst.
They're heading this way.
"Understood. Keep me informed." She took a deep breath and hit her commbadge again. "Janeway to Sickbay."
Go ahead, Captain, responded the EMH.
"The Borg detected your transport." When there was silence on the other end of the comm, she added, "I assume I don't need to tell you not to do anything else that might attract their attention?"
No, Captain.
"Good. Janeway out."
.....
Tom and B'Elanna did not seem to have noticed the captain's hail.
"Tom, is she okay?" demanded B'Elanna, sitting up so she could see over the edge of the incubator.
Tom's expression was grim. "Her heart rate is erratic. She's having trouble breathing."
"The incubator can't compensate for life support being off," said the Doctor.
"Can't we give her something to help her breathe?" asked B'Elanna, almost frantic.
"A sedative to relax her breathing could lower her heart rate," explained the EMH gently. "If I give her a stimulant, it could close off her airways."
"We have to get life support back on!"
"You heard the captain. The Borg may already have located us."
Tears began streaming down B'Elanna's cheeks as she watched her helpless daughter struggle for breath. "We can't just let her die!"
They heard what sounded like a distant detonation and a few seconds later the ship jolted beneath them. The incubator nearly tipped over but Tom kept his hands clenched around it. "What the hell was that?"
.....
"I don't think they've pinpointed our location," said Harry. "They're just randomly firing and hoping we'll show ourselves."
They saw an asteroid disintegrate from the impact of a Borg torpedo not very far from Voyager's position. They barely had time to brace for the impact before the shockwave struck the asteroid they were on, shaking Voyager down to her bulkheads.
"I hope their aim is as bad as their people skills," muttered Chakotay. He hit his commbadge. "Chakotay to Janeway."
.....
Captain Janeway blinked, trying to figure out why she couldn't see anything but a blurred mixture of blue and red. She gingerly pushed herself up and looked around. Something was covering her right eye, but after a few seconds she realized she was in main engineering.
Chakotay to Janeway, please respond.
She fumbled around and hit her commbadge. "Go ahead," she said, slurring slightly. She gently touched the throbbing pain above her eye. It was sticky and blood was running down the side of her face.
The Borg are firing in our direction, but we don't think they've spotted us yet.
Her mental fog began to lift. She wiped the blood off her face with the back of her arm and slowly pulled herself to her feet, gripping the railing next to her as the room began to spin. She could see a large patch of blood on the railing near her hand -- she must have struck her head on the railing when the ship had been hit. "We... don't have weapons yet," she said, looking around. Most of the Engineering crew seemed to be pulling themselves to their feet.
Understood. If they get too close we'll just have to outmaneuver them at impulse.
"Let's hope it doesn't come to that."
.....
B'Elanna rested her trembling hand on the edge of the incubator, terrified to touch the fragile infant inside. Miral was crying feebly now in between shallow, ragged breaths and weakly moving her arms and legs. B'Elanna stifled a sob.
"Her blood oxygenation is still critical," said the Doctor. "Her lungs are too weak to compensate for the altered atmosphere."
B'Elanna snapped out of her daze. "We've got to restore life support!"
Doc stepped forward and gently grabbed her by the shoulders before she made it more than a few steps towards the door. "Lieutenant..."
"We have to save her!"
"Captain Janeway --"
"TO HELL WITH CAPTAIN JANEWAY! IT'S NOT HER NEWBORN DAUGHTER LYING THERE GASPING FOR EVERY BREATH! SHE NEEDS LIFE SUPPORT!"
"Come on, Doc," pleaded Tom. "We've got to do something."
B'Elanna broke down sobbing hysterically. Tom stepped forward and supported her as her legs collapsed out from under her.
Reluctantly, the hologram reached for his commbadge. "Doctor to Captain Janeway."
Go ahead.
"I... how soon until we can restore life support to Sickbay?"
I'll keep you informed, Doctor.
"It's an emergency, Captain. Tom and B'Elanna's daughter... is having trouble breathing. Without power or life support, I'm not sure if she'll make it."
B'Elanna suppressed another sob. There was silence over the comm.
I'm sorry, Doctor, we can't risk it. The Borg already have a vague idea of our position and I don't want to give them the slightest chance to narrow it down.
"Captain, we have to do something!" said Tom, still holding B'Elanna.
I'm sorry, Tom.
"She'll die!" cried B'Elanna.
There was another long pause. We're doing everything we can to get out of here... but if we restore life support, even to only one deck, you'll only be saving your daughter's life long enough for the Borg to find us.
Another concussion from a Borg torpedo impacting a nearby asteroid rocked the ship.
We're all doing our best to get out of this, but until then... I'm afraid you'll just have to sit tight and make due.
The comm channel closed with a soft click and B'Elanna let out another sob. "Make due? We... have to... DO SOMETHING," she cried hysterically.
Doc suddenly looked up, his expression thoughtful. "I think I might have an idea."
.....
His eyes well adjusted to the darkness after nearly two hours, Harry saw Commander Chakotay stop pacing and turn towards Ops. "They're still out there," he answered before the question came.
Chakotay nodded and sat down, his feet sore from pacing. It was only partially to relieve some of the stress of the situation -- with life support down and the warp engines offline, the cold from the vacuum outside was beginning to penetrate the ship and the pacing helped keep him warm. Despite the chill on the bridge, the air seemed to be sticking to them as it might on a humid tropical planet.
"Perhaps Starfleet should rethink its policy of refraining from the use of cloaking devices," commented Seven. Even with her Borg-enhanced physiology, she was starting to show the strain of the altered atmosphere and the dropping temperature.
"According to the treaty of --"
"She was joking, Tuvok," interrupted Chakotay.
Tuvok raised an eyebrow. "Indeed."
Janeway to Chakotay.
"Go ahead, Captain."
Any change in Borg activity?
Chakotay directed his flashlight at the panel next to him. "They appear to be nearing the end of the search grid they laid out." The ship rocked from another shockwave, this one farther away than the others. "One of the cubes is still firing randomly trying to smoke us out. They may be close to giving up."
Good. We should have weapons and shields in under twenty minutes and warp in thirty. I'll head back to the bridge once everything is under control here.
"Understood."
Janeway out.
.....
The Queen's eyes shifted from image to image on the array of displays before her, but there was no sign of her quarry.
Her attention was drawn to a small readout on her left. With a wave of her hand, she brought it to the forefront and frowned.
Five cubes under attack. The battle did not appear to be going well for the Collective.
She swept aside the display in frustration, cocking her head to side slightly as she felt the minds of hundreds upon hundreds of drones extinguish as the battle progressed. It was the closest attack yet to her stronghold of Unimatrix One. The sheer nerve of it was disturbing.
Her eyes moved again to where they had seen the last trace of Voyager. A flash of desperation flickered briefly at the back of her mind before she quelled it. She ordered the cubes to withdraw with a flick of her mind, and her lips curved into a sensuous, devious smile.
Captain Janeway may have outwitted her for now, but she would find Voyager and assimilate the information they carried. It was only a matter of time.
.....
Harry was having trouble concentrating; it was hard to think when it felt as though the air around him was actually squeezing him. He had to look several times before he was sure that what he was seeing on the sensor readouts was accurate.
"Sir," he said, his voice parched, "they're leaving."
Chakotay rose sluggishly from his seat. "Are you sure?"
"They're, uh, they're moving away from the asteroid field. They've gone to transwarp."
"We should wait several minutes before restoring power," said Tuvok. "Their retreat may simply be a ruse designed to make us reveal our position."
"Agreed," said Chakotay. "Harry, keep a close eye on your sensors. We'll wait a few minutes then get the hell out of here."
.....
Making her way back up towards the bridge with several decks left to go, Captain Janeway forced another junction door open and pulled herself through it. The ladder above her seemed to stretch on forever.
She tried vainly to brush the hair out of her face but it seemed to be permanently plastered there. The air felt as though it was sticking to her skin and her breathing was becoming more ragged the more she exerted herself. The insistent throbbing from the cut above her eye wasn't helping matters, either.
Determined to continue despite the air around her seeming to weigh her down, she stood up and gripped the ladder, the film of sweat on her palms making the rungs slippery under her grip, and her fingers were beginning to go numb from the cold. She pulled herself upwards, one rung at a time.
After what seemed hours, she reached the last junction and slowly crawled out the access tube and onto the bridge. She sat down on the floor and slumped back against the wall, exhausted. Someone knelt in front of her. "Captain? Are you all right?"
She recognized Harry's voice and nodded, getting to her feet with his help. "I'm fine, Ensign, just a little the worse for wear." She made her way towards her seat, leaning on the railing and wiping more blood off her face. "Report."
"The Borg have gone to transwarp," Chakotay told her.
"It could be a trap. They might be waiting for us to show ourselves before they strike."
"We had the same thought."
Engineering to Bridge.
"Go ahead," replied Chakotay.
We're ready when you are, reported Ensign Ashmore. Weapons, shields and warp drive are at your disposal.
"Good work, Ensign." He turned to the Captain.
"If it's a trap, I suppose now's as good a time as any to take the bait." She turned to Ops. "Harry, restore main power and essential systems." The lights on the bridge came on and there was a noticeable difference in the air as life support returned. "Chakotay, take the helm and get us out of here."
Taking Tom's seat, Chakotay powered thrusters and with a sharp jolt, Voyager lifted off the face of the asteroid. The ship threaded its way through the asteroid field as the landing struts folded up into the ship's ventral plating.
"Any sign of them?" asked Janeway as the ship cleared the last asteroids.
"None," replied Tuvok.
The atmosphere on the bridge relaxed noticeably.
"Resume our previous heading, maximum warp," she ordered. The asteroid field disappeared behind them in a flash of light as the stars began flowing past the viewscreen.
Janeway rose from her chair and moved towards the turbolift. "Tuvok, you have the bridge. Commander, you're with me."
.....
Chakotay smiled as young Miral held his thumb with a surprisingly strong grip. "Takes after her mother, I see."
Captain Janeway leaned to the side so she could see past the Doctor and smiled. The EMH rolled his eyes in frustration. "Captain, for someone who claims to dislike Sickbay, you seem to do everything in your power to extend your stay here. Now please, stay still." He grabbed her chin, twisted her head back towards him and continued passing the dermal regenerator over the gash above her eye.
When he was finished with the regenerator, Captain Janeway glanced over her shoulder at the haphazard contraption sitting in the middle of Sickbay. "What did you call it again?"
"An oxygen tent," preened the EMH. "It's an ancient technique used for prematurely born infants, providing an increased oxygen atmosphere to assist breathing. We enclosed the incubator and then used an oxygen tank that Mr. Paris retrieved from an environmental suit to enrich the atmosphere inside the tent. Quite ingenious, really, if I do say so myself." He pressed a hypospray to her neck. "This analgesic should take the edge off the concussion. Let me know if you have any further symptoms."
She pushed herself off of the edge of the bed. "Thank you, Doctor." Free from the hologram, she moved over to join Chakotay at B'Elanna's side.
Tilting her head to get a better view of the infant, who was curled up against her mother sleeping, she smiled. "She's beautiful, B'Elanna."
"I still can't believe she's mine." B'Elanna picked up her daughter's miniscule hand and examined her fingers. "She's so tiny."
Sitting on the bed, next to B'Elanna, Tom pulled his attention away from his wife and daughter long enough to address the captain. "Are the Borg still pursuing us?"
"No," she replied. "We haven't seen so much as a glimpse of a cube since they left the asteroid field."
The Doctor cleared his throat. "Captain, I --"
She held up her hand. "Doctor, I understand why you did what you did, but I hope you realize you put the entire crew at risk."
"Do you think he should have let my daughter die?"
Startled by the hostility in B'Elanna's tone, it took the captain a few moments to reply. "No," she said slowly, "but in saving her life he nearly sacrificed the lives of the entire crew."
"But he didn't. And if it weren't for him, she would have suffocated before any of you saw fit to restore life support."
"I understand how you feel, but I couldn't risk the entire crew when --"
"You can't possibly understand how I feel. You weren't standing here watching the life ebb out of your child. If you were in my position, you would have done whatever it took to save her."
"And if you had been in my position, you would have had the lives of one hundred and forty-six people to consider."
"One hundred and forty-five, you mean. That's what it nearly was."
Chakotay intervened. "B'Elanna, that's enough. The captain's right. If we had restored life support before the Borg left we would either be dead or assimilated right now. Including Miral."
Doc also decided to step in. "I think my patients could use some rest."
Quickly taking the hint, Janeway retreated. Chakotay followed her out the door. "Kathryn?"
"I'll be in Engineering," she said over her shoulder without stopping.
He watched her with a frown as she disappeared down the hallway. Deciding that it wasn't his fault if she wouldn't talk to him, he shrugged and started back towards the bridge.
.....
Tom looked up from his breakfast as someone slid a large translucent computer chip up to his omelet. Harry Kim sat down opposite him. "How's B'Elanna doing?"
"Good. Doc's letting her take Miral back to our quarters today." He picked up the chip. "What's this?"
"Replicator rations and holodeck time."
"What for?"
Harry's eyebrow rose. "You don't know?"
"Know what?"
"You won the baby pool. You were only two hours off."
Tom laughed and turned over the chip in his hand. "I didn't even remember."
"Guess you've got more important things on your mind now," grinned Harry. After a few moments, his expression became serious and he leaned forward and lowered his voice. "Look, I know you and B'Elanna are upset with the captain, but I think she's taking it pretty hard. She spent her entire shift yesterday in her ready room going over reports. She only came out once to check on the repairs."
Tom tapped the computer chip on the table but made no answer.
"What did you expect her to do? Light the ship up like a flare for the Borg?"
"She... there could have been some other..." Tom sighed. "It just felt like she wasn't even trying to do anything."
"You know her better than that, Tom. Or at least, I thought you did."
He tossed his utensils down on his half-empty plate. "I have to get our quarters ready before Doc springs B'Elanna and Miral."
"Tom --"
"I'll see you later, Harry."
Harry turned around in his chair and watched his friend rush out of the mess hall without so much as a glance in his direction.
.....
Chakotay pressed his thumb against the button outside the ready room as he scanned the PADD in his hand.
"Come."
The doors slid open and he saw the captain sitting behind her desk, coffee cup in hand. "The latest status report from Engineering," he said, handing her the PADD. "They should have the ship as good as new by next week."
"Hm." Janeway took another sip of coffee. "Looks like they'll have their hands full. Microfractures along the hull on deck ten, damage to the plasma relays on deck four, three ODN relays that need replacing on deck seven..."
"I'm sure it's nothing they can't handle."
"Hm," she said again.
"Have you spoken to Tom and B'Elanna?"
"No," she said, keeping her eyes on the PADD. "The doctor says he's letting B'Elanna and Miral out of Sickbay this morning."
"Kathryn... you know B'Elanna. She was probably just overemotional and lost her temper. She and Tom know you would never do anything to harm their daughter."
She set the PADD down slowly. "She has every reason to be angry with me. Miral nearly died."
"The situation wasn't your fault. You didn't have a choice."
"There's always a choice, Chakotay. I count myself fortunate that my actions didn't cost that little girl her life."
"You can't blame yourself for what happened."
"I'm responsible for every life on this ship."
"And you did what you had to do to preserve those lives. Even if that meant risking one life to save everyone else."
"It still doesn't seem right."
"It's not supposed to seem right. As you should know, there's nothing easy about command."
She smiled. "No, I can't say that there is. Although the office is definitely a perk."
"I still wouldn't want to be in your shoes."
"I can't blame you." She leaned back in her chair, more relaxed than before her first officer had arrived. "If you don't want my shoes, can I interest you in my cooking? I still have those replicator rations saved up."
He felt a pang of guilt. "I've already got plans, I'm afraid. Another time?"
"Of course." She smiled and turned back to her work, but he could see she was still troubled. Unable to do anything about it at the moment, he reluctantly rose and left her alone.
.....
"You're late."
Seven smiled as she approached the doors to the holodeck where Chakotay was waiting. "I had more difficulty than I expected procuring this. It was very well concealed."
Chakotay's eyes narrowed at the bottle in her hand, which was unmistakably Antarian cider. "How did you..."
"I have my sources."
"Last time I trust Icheb to keep a secret," he muttered, grinning despite himself.
"Icheb did ask me to reassure you that Mr. Neelix never found your 'private stash.' I'm sure he'll be just as vigilant with Mr. Chell."
"You, however, are an exception?"
"I think he suspected its use," she said with a sly smile. "Computer, activate program alpha-one-four."
The holodeck doors slid open and they stepped onto a wooden dock on the edge of a lake. It was a crisp summer evening with a light breeze blowing and the moon reflecting on the surface of the water.
Chakotay's eyes widened at the familiar setting. "Where did you get this?" he asked, more sharply than he intended.
Seven, who was walking ahead of him, stopped and turned around. "I wanted to learn how to sail. The computer selected this program. It's a simulation of Lake George, on Earth. I... could choose another one if --"
"No... no, that's all right." The gentle waves lapping the edge of the sailboat brought old memories to the surface.
But that was the past. It was time to make new memories, to start fresh. He smiled at the woman standing in front of him and rested his hand on her back, guiding her down the dock.
"Let's go sailing."
.....
Harry Kim was surprised to find that he wasn't the only one who had sought the solitude of the mess hall in the middle of the night. "Captain?"
Seated on one of the couches near the window, she turned around, startled. "Harry. What time is it?"
He approached her. "0300. Mind if I sit down?"
"Not at all. Couldn't sleep?"
"Not really. You?"
She smiled. "Never tried. I didn't realize it was that late... or early, I guess."
There was an uncomfortable silence. Finally, Harry cleared his throat. "Captain... I know Tom and B'Elanna are angry with you for what happened during the Borg attack... and I just wanted to make sure you know I think you did the right thing."
Her expression softened and he could tell that she was touched by his support. "I appreciate that."
"And deep down, I know Tom and B'Elanna do too. They just... I'm sure you can imagine what it was like for them. They would do anything for Miral, and when her life was in the balance they couldn't help her. It's easier for them if they have something... or someone... to blame."
"And I just happen to be the natural target," she said with a wry smile.
"They don't really think you'd ever do anything to hurt Miral. They're angry now, but they'll get over it."
She reached over and patted him on the knee as she got to her feet. "Coffee, Harry?"
"Sure. Thanks."
She refilled her mug from the pot in the galley and poured one for Harry as well.
"It seems strange," he said as she handed him his coffee, "being in the mess hall late at night without Neelix here, hanging around and making excuses to stay around and talk."
Captain Janeway smiled sadly as she settled back on the couch, tucking her legs underneath her. "He was part of our family. I don't think it will ever be the same without him."
They had been sitting in silence for several minutes when the Captain suddenly chuckled to herself.
"What?" asked Harry.
She wrapped her fingers tighter around her mug. "I was just thinking of a young ensign who was so terrified of the chain of command that he wouldn't even ask his captain to sit down with him in the mess hall. And now, here you are, drinking coffee with me in the middle of the night."
Harry laughed softly. "Yeah... things change, I guess."
She reached over and squeezed his shoulder fondly. "You've come a long way from the green ensign who reported for duty at Deep Space Nine seven years ago, Harry."
"Thank you, ma'am. That means a lot."
.....
Captain's Log, Stardate 55216.4 We've had no sign of the Borg since our last encounter, but something tells me this reprieve is only temporary. However, it is still a reprieve and I intend to use it to the best of my ability. The repairs to the ship have been completed, and B'Elanna's engineering crews have now moved on to dismantling the Borg alcoves that have been a part of cargo bay two ever since the Borg incursion on my ship five years ago. A week ago, Seven of Nine requested quarters for both herself and Icheb, since the portable regenerators the doctor has developed has made their use of the alcoves unnecessary. I suspect the request was brought on not only by practicality but by Seven's realization that Icheb would be more at home in quarters of his own as he matures and grows away from his Borg tendencies. Seven has also requested a uniform, despite her lack of commission. I granted the request, gladly -- she is as much a part of this crew as any ensign or lieutenant and I believe she has earned the right to a uniform. I have to admit, it makes me proud to see her wear it.
.....
"Come."
Chakotay stepped into the ready room. "Didn't your shift end two hours ago?"
Captain Janeway sighed. "Feels like six. I was hoping to finish going over the proposals for the cargo bay before I left."
"And?"
"I didn't." She smiled. "But since I can either do it later or sit here arguing with you, I'll choose the former."
He stood aside and held the doors open for her as she rose from her desk. She preceded him out the door and towards the turbolift.
"Deck three," she ordered as the doors slid shut. "I've still got those replicator rations if you're up for dinner."
"Tonight's...not a good night. Can I take another rain check?"
"Of course."
She appeared composed, but something in her voice told him that there was more going through her mind than she was letting on. He had known her long enough that he could see through most of her defenses, and he could sense a sort of uneasiness under the surface. He wasn't surprised -- this had to have been at least the fourth time he had turned down an invitation from her, and on a small ship there was only so much else that could demand his time.
She must have felt his eyes on her, studying her, and she looked up at him with a quizzical expression, one eyebrow raised slightly. He looked away, but not before he felt a stab of guilt. He had given himself, as well as Seven, several justifications for keeping their blossoming relationship under wraps, but standing here in the turbolift with Kathryn, all his reasons seemed empty.
She deserved to know. And she deserved to hear it from him. He found it hard to define his relationship with Kathryn, even to himself, but he knew he owed her honesty at the very least.
He looked back at her, and somehow he knew that she had been scrutinizing him and had looked away a split second before he had turned towards her. As he opened his mouth to speak, the turbolift stopped and the doors slid open.
"Kathryn?"
She stopped in mid-stride, poised to step out the door, and faced him. "Yes?"
"I've changed my mind about that rain check... I can't make it for dinner, but would it be all right if I stopped by your quarters later for coffee?"
She smiled, but it was an uneasy smile, as if she could sense the importance of his request. "Only if you're willing to give me a hand with the remaining proposals for the cargo bay renovation."
He returned her smile. "Yes, ma'am."
.....
Kathryn stared into the black depths of her coffee until she was reasonably certain she had regained her composure. Subtly taking a deep breath, she looked up at Chakotay seated opposite her.
"For how long?" she asked finally.
"Almost two months." He sighed heavily. "I'm sorry, Kathryn. I should have told you earlier."
Her lips tightened slightly but her gaze remained steady. "It's none of my business. I don't recall any Starfleet regulations about informing your captain of any... romantic involvements."
His hand bridged the gap between them to rest lightly on her knee. "You're not just my captain. You're my friend."
Her carefully controlled mask slipped slightly and for an instant he could see the hurt in her eyes. Whether it was his secrecy about his relationship with Seven or the relationship itself that bothered her more he didn't presume to guess.
"I didn't mean to keep it from you, Kathryn. It just happened... and I'm sorry."
"There's nothing to be sorry about." Her lips curved into a warm smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I hope she can make you happy."
"She does."
After seconds that seemed to stretch on for hours, Chakotay set his mug down on the table between them and moved to leave. As he started towards the door, he turned back as if on a sudden impulse. "Kathryn... do you think it would ever have worked out between us?"
She met his penetrating gaze and it was a long time before she answered. "I don't know," she said honestly.
He accepted this with a nod and after a few seconds of awkward silence, he turned and left her quarters.
As the doors shut, leaving the captain alone in the smothering silence of her quarters, she felt suddenly abandoned and she didn't know why.