Atonement (29 page)

“Your mother?” Seven asked softly as she hurried to keep pace with Ratham.

“Is amazing, yes,” Paris agreed.

They found Julia Paris sitting on the edge of one of the bunks, her face contorted in concern. Nocks stood beside her, and a small group of adults was gathering while others distracted the children who were not yet asleep.

Groans interspersed with violent spasms of pain came from the bunk's resident, a middle-aged woman with thick, dark hair. Black wisps were plastered to her face, which was generously beaded with sweat.

Seven forced her way through the crowd and addressed Nocks. “What happened?”

“I don't know. Jilliant had just gone to bed. She sat up, screaming. It's only been a few minutes. Something she ate?” he asked.

“I don't think so,” Seven said.

Julia rose and allowed Seven to take her place as Doctor Sharak entered the hall and came rushing toward them. Paris raised a hand to hold him back as Seven took both of Jilliant's hands in hers and closed her eyes.

A few moments later, the woman's pain seemed to subside.
Her breathing calmed and her eyes opened, staring up at Seven's face in mingled fear and wonder.

“Get her some water,” Seven ordered.

Several rushed to comply as Nocks asked, “What did you do?”

“It's all right,” the woman said weakly.

“Jilliant?” Nocks asked.

“It's gone now. She made it go away.”

“Seven?” Nocks demanded.

Seven squeezed Jilliant's hand and smiled kindly at her before rising to face Nocks. “All of you gave samples of your catoms to Starfleet Medical before you were placed in stasis. I had an understanding with Commander Briggs. He has been experimenting with my catoms, as well as those of Axum and Riley. He was not to use any of yours for his ongoing work.”

“What does this—” Nocks began.

“He is no longer honoring our understanding,” Seven said. “Once he has modified catomic particles, he injects them into living subjects. Once they begin to acclimate to their new environment, the previous owner experiences the same sensations as the test subjects. I have endured this many times already.

“With proper instruction, all of you can be taught to control your responses to these attacks. The pain will still be present, but you will not
feel
it.”

“How?” Nocks asked, wary.

“Riley told me that you had all agreed not to explore your catomic natures. I'm afraid the Commander's actions have made that choice unsustainable, unless you wish to subject yourselves to his experiments.”

Nocks looked ready to punch something or someone. Paris moved to one side of Seven as Sharak stepped to the other.

“What have you done to us?” Nocks asked, horrified.

“I have done nothing,” Seven replied. “This was the work of the Caeliar and the result of our choice not to join their gestalt. I have spent a great deal of time beginning to understand what that means. I am ready to share what I know with all of you. And should anyone else be attacked as Jilliant was, I will assist them in
moving beyond the pain. If we work together,” Seven assured him, “the Commander will be unable to harm any of us.”

“There is
no
us!” Nocks shouted. “We are individuals now.”

“Individuals who face a common threat,” Sharak noted.

“I have no wish to strip anyone of their individuality,” Seven said. “I would no more part with mine than I would expect you to part with yours. But
together
we are stronger than any individual.”

“I know what we were
together,
” Nocks spat harshly. “We were freed from that, but you would lead us back there, Seven of Nine.”

“I have no intention of leading you anywhere,” Seven insisted. “I will not force you or anyone to comply.”

Nocks pushed his way past Seven and seated himself beside Jilliant. “It's all right,” she assured him. “It wasn't like before.”

“What wasn't?” Nocks asked.

“The gestalt,” Jilliant replied.

“What is she talking about?” Paris asked Seven on a whisper.

“In order to assist Jilliant, I had to bring her into the joint thought-space Axum, Riley, and I have created,” Seven said. “Axum believes that eventually, all of us will join him there.”

“Is that your belief?”

Seven shook her head. “But I'm not sure how to prevent it either.”

VESTA

A
s the Voth ship continued its scans, Captain Farkas considered her options. She had been ordered to share the fleet's discoveries about the Seriareen and the
Kinara
's fate at the Gateway with the Turei and Vaadwaur. Avoiding the much more dangerous Voth seemed like a wise precaution.

It was also no longer possible.

As soon as the Voth ship began emitting anti-proton bursts, Farkas began to worry that they suspected the presence of cloaked vessels. When tachyon surges followed, that fear was confirmed. Something had tripped their sensors, and they were hunting for the source.

Jepel was constantly revising his calculations indicating how soon the Voth ship would pinpoint their location. With each minute that passed, roughly another five minutes was shaved off his estimates.

Farkas was worried about her ship, but much more concerned about
Demeter
. They couldn't initiate a slipstream jump from their current orbit of the Ark Planet, and for them to ask their protector to move them to a safe location would only increase the speed with which they were discovered.

The captain was also reviewing everything she had read about
Voyager
's initial encounter with the Voth and her ship's records of the
Scion
's capabilities. She had little doubt that the Voth would eventually come to appreciate the intelligence she had to share with them. The trick was living long enough to make that happen.

Her best chance was risky, if not rash. Its odds of success topped out at around forty percent. Not good. Just the best she could do.

She quickly relayed the outlines of a plan to Commanders O'Donnell and Fife. Their jobs would be relatively easy compared to hers. Timing was essential to this effort, and Fife assured Farkas he would wait until the last possible moment to act. They did not bother wishing her luck. They merely nodded grimly, in unison. Farkas smiled at this, marveling at how far these two had come in such a short time together.

Regina Farkas then ordered the
Vesta
's self-destruct protocol to commence on a delay under a single circumstance, added an unusual trigger, locked out any overrides, and gave the bridge to Commander Roach.

Moments later, as she jogged lightly toward the transporter
room on deck three, the hairs on the back of her arms rose.
Vesta
had just shed her protector.

No turning back now.

“Captain Farkas, we have opened a channel to the Voth ship and begun transmitting standard friendship greetings,”
Commander Roach reported.

“Very good, Commander,” she replied.

Entering the transporter room, Farkas hurried to the platform. Roach had already relayed her transport coordinates, and the officer on duty stood ready. The moment she was in place, she ordered, “Energize.”

She could have sworn her gut lurched as the transport effect began to take hold.
Get a grip, Regina,
she thought, tightening her fingers around the only weapon she was taking with her: a padd.

Finally, the sight of Lieutenant Kerscheznsky hunched over his control panel vanished and was immediately replaced by a glorious vista.

•   •   •   •   •

Commander Roach did not expect the Voth to respond to their hails. He agreed with his captain that they would likely refuse to lower themselves to speak with any inferior species. He only hoped they would not immediately open fire.

He sat calmly in his seat, trying to convey the same poise his captain always displayed, even under the most challenging of circumstances. He hadn't served with Farkas long, but had already come to regard her as one of the finest officers in Starfleet.

The moment the bright blue beam shot forth from the Voth ship, Roach smiled.

Damn, Farkas was good.

“All hands, secure stations and prepare to welcome boarding parties,” Roach ordered.

•   •   •   •   •

Commander Liam O'Donnell had made some truly terrible decisions in his life. He tried to keep them in perspective. When they were set alongside his list of accomplishments, the scales remained slightly tipped toward the good.

Should Captain Regina Farkas and her crew lose their lives because he had needed to prove a point to Overseer Bralt, that calculus was going to change dramatically. He doubted anything he might do in the future would ever make up for it.

Alana
, he thought.

She had died years ago after a tragic miscarriage, but she had never really left him.

No, that's not true.

He had never really let her go.

From that day to this, he had carried her so close that their constant conversations in his head had become as normal, as
real
, as any he shared with the living.

Alana,
he thought again.

She didn't answer. She might have already decided that this time, he'd gone too far. He had endured her silence in the past, knowing that she would return as soon as he had once again earned the privilege of her company.

He racked his brain, trying to remember the last time they had spoken.

Has it really been that long?

She'd advised him well during his confrontations with Captain Chakotay following their initial discovery of the Ark Planet.
But since then . . .

He'd been so busy, so preoccupied with his duties, and had become so accustomed to seeking out the counsel of his crew, that he'd somehow fallen out of the habit of taking every concern first to her.

He couldn't even remember when, let alone how, that had happened. Only that it had. And now, when he needed her again so desperately . . .

“Alana,” he whispered.

“Captain O'Donnell,” Fife advised, “
Vesta
has been transported aboard the Voth ship.”

“Have you communicated our request to the protectors?” O'Donnell asked.

“Aye, sir.”

“Stand
by.”

“Are you all right, Captain?” Fife asked.

No,
he realized, but nodded anyway.

•   •   •   •   •

Captain Farkas hadn't been specific when she asked Jepel to find the best spot on the Ark Planet for her pending negotiations: warm, dry, and far from large wild animals had pretty much covered it.

Jepel had outdone himself.

The sand beneath her boots was fine and white. The waves rolling toward the shoreline were tranquil and reassuring. The water extending as far as her eye could see was so clear that near the coastline, it was the palest green. Several reefs dotted the ocean floor. It was past midday, local time, but the sun had just begun its descent and bathed the beach in radiance, softened by a fierce, fresh breeze.

Should her crew die now at the hands of the Voth, she would always regret not being with them. But there were worse places to spend her final moments.

Instead of dwelling on the glory around her, she shaded her eyes and lifted them skyward.

“Anytime, Liam,” she said aloud.

Finally, she clearly discerned a black dot on the horizon, speeding toward her. It arrived less than a minute later, a single Voth male wearing a vibrant blue uniform draped with a large metallic chain.

The moment the protector that had brought him here released him, he fell to his knees on the sand before her. Fear filled his eyes, but rather than kiss the ground—a clear desire once he ascertained his physical safety—he stumbled, attempting to rise to his feet.

Cognizant of the importance of first impressions, Farkas extended a hand to him to help him up.

“How do you do, sir,” she said, taking a little of his weight. “I am Captain Regina Farkas of the Federation
Starship Vesta.
” As she brushed away the sand he had transferred to her hand on her
pant leg, she added, “You're here because you refused to answer my ship's hails. You and I really need to speak. After your ship assumed orbit around this planet, this was the only way I could think of to make that happen.”

“Human,” he spat. “Always deception.”

Tapping a bracelet he wore, he said, “Thulan to
Vival.
Respond.”

When no signal sounded, he tapped the device again furiously.

“Right now both you and I are invisible to our respective ships. Some local friends of mine have cloaked this beach and our presence here is undetectable.”

“More treachery.”

“Not at all,” she said. “I know your people and mine didn't get off to a great start. Despite that, I've just put myself and my crew at great risk to facilitate this meeting.”

“Capturing me will not further your aims. My crew will act on its last orders whether I am present to carry them out or not.”

“Did those last orders include capturing my ship and taking it into one of those vast holds I've heard so much about on your city-ships?” Farkas asked.

He seemed taken aback.

“Let's try this again,” Farkas said. “I'm Regina. You're Thulan?”

He nodded, grudgingly.

“Hello, Thulan. The moment you transported my ship into your hold, the
Vesta
's self-destruct protocol was armed. It is set to a ten-minute delay to give us some time to talk, but as my first officer is no doubt advising your second-in-command right now, it will activate should our sensors detect any energy wave consistent with your transport devices. I know
Vesta
's a lot smaller than your
Vival,
but between her mass and the considerable ordnance she's carrying,
Vesta
's destruction within your ship should guarantee that
Vival
suffers some very serious damage should you try to remove her from your vessel's belly and send her back to open space.”