Yesterday's Terrors
© Carolyn Carey 1998
Disclaimer:
Star Trek is the property of Paramount. I do not stake claim to the characters in this story nor do I make a profit.
Note
This story is set around the timeline of the Star Trek Voyager episode "Caretaker", however the story is set is an alternate universe and therefore does not tie in with cannon. If you're looking to find the Janeway & Chakotay of the television series, you're probably in the wrong place.
Summary:
Three universes to the left of our Captain Kathryn Janeway and the crew of the U.S.S Voyager have been sent on a mission to capture a notorious Maquis cell and their leader, Chakotay. But things don't go quite as they're supposed to, and the crew find themselves imprisoned in a secret Maquis hideout.
Rating:
PG-13
‡
Chapter 1Stardate 48307.5, Three Universes To The Left Of Ours...
Captain's Personal Log, Stardate 48307.5Voyager is finally ready to embark on her first mission. We have orders to find a notorious Maquis cell in the Badlands, a region of space plagued by treacherous plasma storms. Although I have counted the days up to this moment in anticipation of Voyager's first official run, I can't help feeling a little on edge. Maybe it's simply the excitement of my first mission in command of this incredible vessel, or maybe my gut is trying to tell me something.... so far it's never let me down. I have this nagging feeling that something terrible is going to happen to us. I guess I'm a little paranoid about having a 'criminal' onboard. Tom Paris may be Owen's son, but I don't trust him...after all, his own father doesn't trust him, so why should I? Why, indeed, does Starfleet still trust him? I have voiced my objections concerning this matter to Starfleet Command on several occasions, but they are quite determined to send him along. I guess I'll just have to get on with it and hope that my gut is for once misguiding me. In any case, it's too late now to do anything about it. Maybe it's just me. I've been feeling a little off course for the past few weeks, since Mark and I broke up. I suppose I feel a little lost. My routine has been interrupted, and I'm still not used to the way things are now. I knew, we couldn't go on the way we had been -- the constant arguments about the missions I'm sent on... Every time I leave earth he wants me to leave Starfleet and marry him -- but Starfleet is my life. For as long as I've lived I've wanted to travel the stars. I'm not ready to settle down. Maybe I'll never be ready.
I'm sure a little distance from home, and the things and people that are constant reminders of our years together, will do me good. I still haven't achieved a sense of closure. I miss him, I still love him, but I can't live with him anymore. It's time to move on, and I'll be doing exactly that in the very near future.
Voyager will depart from Deep Space 9 as soon as we get clearance.
No sooner had she finished the entry into her personal log, a message from Starfleet Command was put through to her desktop computer, and Voyager was cleared for departure from Deep Space Nine.
Captain Kathryn Janeway rose from the seat behind the desk in her ready room and stepped energetically through the doors onto the bridge. She had spend the past few days welcoming each and every single member of her new crew as they arrived from all corners of Federation space.
"Captain on the bridge!" her new first officer, Commander Geoffrey Cavit, announced in the age-old tradition. Everyone rose and stood to attention, waiting for their captain's next move. The air was tingling with excitement. Kathryn Janeway sat down in her Captain's chair, attempting to portray an air of calmness and non-chalance.
"Engage!" she ordered, barely able to conceal in her voice the excitement and pride she felt. She was extremely proud of having been entrusted with the command of this brand new starship, a prototype, and had spend the past few month familiarizing herself with Voyager's new systems. Now her expertise with them could probably rival the skills of her chief engineer.
The U.S.S.Voyager featured a revolutionary new design, in which traditional optical processors had been replaced with bio-neural circuitry. She was a sleek looking ship, comprising of fifteen decks, with a crew compliment of one hundred and forty-one. The ship was capable of sustaining a cruising velocity of warp factor 9.975 and sported 38 photon torpedoes. Janeway was thrilled to be in command of this unique new vessel, her ship!
Of course Voyager was not really her ship, but she liked to think of it that way. She had fallen in love with it, could feel its heartbeat, as if the ship were alive. And in a way it was. Its computer, after all, ran on bio matter. But it was more than that. To Janeway, Voyager was like a sentient being with a heart and a soul - a heart and a soul that she knew inside out.
Her crew, however, was a different story. She still had to get to know them.
Her first officer, Commander Cavit, was still a complete mystery to her. Starfleet Command had insisted on his assignment as her second in command on account of his experience with the Maquis. He had already been a participant in several missions against them and was therefore accustomed to a number of their tricks and maneuvers.
It was never easy for a captain to establish a smooth working relationship with a new first officer, but Janeway could usually tell instantly if their was any chance at all for the development of such a rapport. A certain chemistry had to be present between the two parties concerned in order to establish a good working relationship, an interconnection, and she detected no such thing between Cavit and herself. At first glance, he had struck her as a little arrogant. She had attributed this to the fact that he had never before served under a female captain. Well, he would just have to get accustomed to it. But then, later, whilst studying his Starfleet records, she had been more than a little surprised to find that he never seemed to stay with the same captain for longer than the duration of a single mission. He was changing captains with every assignment he took. She was stunned, when she read her colleagues' remarks on Cavit, describing him as arrogant and faint-hearted with a tendency to insubordination. Jean Luc Picard had plainly called Cavit an "insufferable coward." Janeway liked Picard and the way he got straight to the point. She had a lot of respect for her elder colleague and trusted his judgment implicitly. If Picard said Cavit was a coward, than Cavit was a coward, which added another burden to the ones that already rested heavily on her shoulders.
'Guts', as she preferred to call it, were a prerequisite of paramount importance in a commanding officer, especially when that officer was ordered to take a starship on an uncertain mission, in the course of which he may well face situations that might cost him his life. The crew had to be able to draw their courage from their superiors. A terrified commander would send them into fits of panic. It simply would not do. As for insubordination, she simply would not suffer it.
Kathryn Janeway was absolutely certain she was going to have Cavit replaced by someone of her own choice before embarking on her next mission -- if there was going to be such a thing.
Next in the chain of command was Lieutenant Tuvok, her Vulcan chief of security, who was also in charge of the tactical station on the bridge. Tuvok had been with her for many years, ever since she had acquired her captaincy as a matter of fact. In typical Vulcan manner he had filed a complaint against her, accusing her of sloppiness in her regard for proper procedure. As a result she had been brought in front of a board of inquiry, whose task it had been to assess her performance. Tuvok had only been an ensign then. She had hated him for the actions he had taken against her, taking them as a personal insult and proof of his arrogance.
But shortly after the inquiry she had come to realize that he had filed the report against her, purely because his Vulcan conscience had demanded it of him. Slowly they had come to respect each other and formed a bond that was as close to friendship as a Vulcan and a human could get. Janeway had come to rely on his advice in difficult situations and now trusted him with her life. She liked to think of him as her better judgment and a dear friend.
Janeway's gaze came to rest on the young woman at the conn, as she watched her fingers smoothly glide over the controls. The pilot of the U.S.S.Voyager was a young Betazoid. Taria Stadi was the stereotype of her species, always centered and calm and able to quieten raging tempers with what seemed to be the surreal force of softly spoken words alone. She was probably the closest thing Voyager had to a counselor. None had been assigned to this mission, as it was only expected to last a maximum of two weeks. In her relatively short career, Stadi had gained a reputation as an outstanding pilot, which was why Janeway had chosen her. The ship's navigational controls were extremely sensitive and required an excellent pilot.
Quite a contrast to Stadi's controlled demeanor was the young ensign in charge of the ship's operations station. Ensign Harry Kim had come fresh from Starfleet Academy. His Academy file described him as a proficient scientist. This would be his very first mission. Janeway smiled at the slight clumsiness accompanying the young man's every move and gesture. He gave the impression of constantly standing to attention, but most ensigns were like this at the beginning of their career. Janeway was sure he would learn to relax with time.
Like Cavit and Paris, Voyager's chief engineer had also been the choice of Starfleet Command, but in this case Janeway had no objections. Carey had been part of the engineering team, which had built Voyager and certainly knew his way around an engine room. Not many people were trained to work with the new technology of the ship. Joe Carey was one of a handful. He was efficient, and pleasant enough to have around. Janeway felt Voyager was going to be in safe hands with him in charge of the ship's heart.
'Safe' she certainly did not feel with their 'guest', Thomas Eugene Paris. Tom's father, Admiral Paris, had been her mentor at Starfleet Academy. He had also taken her on her first mission into deep space, on the Al Batani, which had ended in disaster and nearly cost her her life. Together Janeway and the Admiral had been captured by Cardassians, whilst on a shuttle trip to collect scientific data from a moon. They had been interrogated and submitted to the unspeakable terrors of Cardassian torture. Janeway had been forced to listen to the Admirals screams as they tortured him, killing him little by little, day by day. Owen Paris and Kathryn had been very close, almost like a father and a daughter, but he had never quite recovered from the trauma that the ordeal had caused him. The experience had nearly robbed him of his sanity, not to mention his life.
She had tracked Tom down in a penal colony in New Zealand, where he was serving a sentence of treachery. Thinking that he might be of help to the mission, Starfleet command had ordered her to take him with her as an 'observer'.
The crimes he had been convicted of were serious. He had been arrested by the Federation Authorities when he was caught serving in the Maquis, a paramilitary organization of former Federation citizens formed at the colonies affected by the border changes wrought by the Federation - Cardassian Treaty of 2367. The Maquis had come into existence in response to Cardassian hostilities toward these colonies and the perception that they had been abandoned by the Federation Government. Many of the Maquis had suffered violence and personal tragedy at the hands of the Cardassians. They felt that Cardassia intended to drive them from their homes, and many had chosen to fight, rather than leave everything they held dear behind.
However, no such noble reasons had driven Tom Paris to join the Maquis. A graduate of Starfleet Academy, he had been notoriously involved in a fatal accident that had claimed the lives of three Starfleet officers. At the inquiry that followed the incident Paris had denied all responsibility for the accident, even putting the blame onto a friend who had died in the tragedy. But later, in what may have been a fit of remorse, he admitted to having falsified reports in order to omit punishment by the authorities. The accident had been his fault alone. As a result he was forced to resign his commission. Having nowhere else to go he hung around the bars in Marseille, a mercenary waiting to be hired by anyone who would pay him, and eventually joined the Maquis. A few weeks later he was caught by the Federation Authorities during his first mission for the paramilitary group. Now a convicted terrorist and traitor, he had apparently agreed to assist the Federation in tracking down the very Maquis cell he had been a part of not so very long ago. In exchange for his cooperation, he would be granted parole on his return from the mission, should it be completed successfully.
The mission itself was certainly risky and by far not as straightforward as Janeway would have liked. The problem lay in the fact that its success depended to a very large part of Paris' assistance.
They were to locate a specific Maquis cell, led by a certain Maquis captain called Chakotay. Under his command, the Maquis had managed to destroy several Cardassian vessels and industrial compounds in the DMZ. In his short time as a Maquis leader, Chakotay had caused more trouble for the Cardassians than any of his counterparts in the past four years. His proficiency was undoubtedly due to his Starfleet training and experience, not to mention the contacts he had gained. Some of his fellow cadets at the Academy were now high-ranking Starfleet officers, and he had made many friends in the 'Fleet. A small group of his influential friends was under suspicion of assisting their former fellow cadet in the form of supplies – food, medical supplies, weapons and even ships.
Chakotay had been a Starfleet officer for over a decade before joining the Maquis, but had resigned his commission voluntarily, when his father was killed by Cardassians on his home planet in the DMZ in 2370. His father, Kolopak, had been the leader of the Maquis cell, and Chakotay had felt obliged to carry on his legacy and defend his homeworld from Cardassian attacks. Although born on Trebus, Chakotay was of Native American descent, a heritage he had denied until his father's death. Despite Kolopaks efforts to introduce his son to the history and customs of his tribe, Chakotay had wanted nothing to do with what he referred to as the 'bush people'. Kolopak had been greatly disappointed at this and at his son joining Starfleet. Attempting to make amends after his father's death, Chakotay finally began to embrace the traditional ways of his tribe. Recent images had shown the Maquis leader sporting a tattoo of the tribal insignia over his left brow.
What was far more worrying, he had also decided to take his father's place among the Maquis and seemed to be doing so just a little too well.
His recent actions against the Cardassians were beginning to endanger the treaty, as the Empire grew more and more tired of losing their ships and people at the hands of a bunch of renegade Ex-Federation citizens.
Captain Janeway and her crew had orders to track down and arrest Chakotay and, if possible, the entire cell, and deliver them into the hands of the Federation Authorities, so that they could be tried for their crimes. The Federation Government regarded the Maquis as ruthless terrorists, and there would be no mercy on behalf of the judges. Kathryn Janeway fully agreed with the Federation Council on this matter. In her eyes it was preposterous to believe that the Cardassians would systematically threaten and attack former Federation colonies in the DMZ and thereby risk jeopardizing the treaty that had gained them so much. She had no sympathy with the Maquis cause. Before the treaty the Federation and the Cardassian Empire had been constantly in conflict with each other. It had been the most violent and merciless feud, and the treaty had put a most welcome end to the unspeakable amount of bloodshed and destruction. The loss of a few insignificant colonies seemed a fair price to pay in exchange for and end to the hostilities with Cardassia, and Janeway would defy anyone and anything that threatened the still fragile peace. And fragile it certainly was. Both sides had actively acknowledged the treaty for a year now, but lately the Cardassians had begun to threaten the Federation. They were going to declare the treaty void if the Federation did not get the Maquis under control. The conflict would pick up where it stopped and there was no doubt in Janeway's mind that a full military clash with the Cardassian Empire could only end in defeat for the Federation. They had been pushed to their absolute limits during the last hostilities, yet the Cardassian military seemed to be a force of endless power and resources. The consequences of war against Cardassia were unthinkable. Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation Starship Voyager would do everything in her power to prevent it.
"We are entering the Badlands, Captain." Stadi interrupted Janeway's brooding.
She rose from her Captain's chair to assume her famous command stance, standing tall, chin up, poker face, and hands on hips.
"All stop!" she ordered before tapping her combadge.
"Janeway to Paris."
"Paris here, Captain." he responded in an unnervingly leisurely way.
"Mr. Paris, we have entered the Badlands. You are needed on the bridge!"
"On my way." he casually replied.
Janeway frowned. She felt uneasy about Paris. He seemed to change his loyalties too frequently, was really loyal only to himself, and that scared her more than she cared to admit. There was no guarantee that he was really going to cooperate with them in exchange for parole. Nothing was waiting for him back home. His family and friends pretended not to know him and his career options were forever ruined. He was a dishonored man, an outcast on his homeworld and beyond. He might find it far more appealing to rejoin he Maquis and deliver Voyager and her crew into their waiting hands, thus proving his loyalty to the paramilitary group and possibly winning their admiration and trust.
A shudder went down the captain's spine as she contemplated the consequences of this highly possible scenario just as the turbo lift doors opened to reveal the cocky young man.
Janeway forced her thoughts aside for the moment in order to give the situation before her her full attention.
"Mr. Paris, I want you to take the conn and take us through the Badlands in one piece. Then take us to the Terikof belt."
Despite all his faults Tom Paris was the best pilot Janeway knew. With him at the conn she would also be able to keep an eye on him, while he was present on the bridge. Stadi promptly vacated her position in favor of Paris.
"Ensign Kim, do you read any plasma storms in the area?" Janeway asked the nervous young ensign in charge of the Operations station.
"Affirmative, Captain. There are a number of plasma storms ahead." he responded eagerly, and a little too loudly in his endeavor to please his captain. Tuvok raised an eyebrow as he contemplated the countless curiosities of human behavior.
"Transfer the coordinates of the storms to Mr. Paris' console. Mr. Paris, plot a course around the storms!"
"Aye, Captain!" both men replied in unison.
"Course laid in, Captain." Paris announced.
The Captain's icy stare rested calculatingly on Paris, as he navigated her ship smoothly through the plasma storms.
"We are leaving the Badlands, Captain. At full impulse we should reach the Terikof Belt in approximately half an hour." Paris informed her.
"We will be there in exactly twenty-eight minutes and thirty-two seconds, Captain." Tuvok confirmed in typical Vulcan manner.Under normal circumstances the captain would have allowed herself to make a humorous comment about exaggerated Vulcan efficiency, but she was not in the mood for jokes right now. She frowned.
"Mr. Paris, tell me, where exactly are the Maquis hideouts in the Terikof belt?"
Paris answered her without as much as a glance.
"There are a number of systems in the belt. The first one, the Moriya, is uninhabited. It consists of five planets, all K-Class and unable to sustain humanoid life. Most of the hideouts are in the second system, the Ronara. It consists of seven planets. Two of them are M-Class. That's where the Maquis are. Chakotay's cell can usually be found on Ronara Prime, the first M-Class planet in that system."
Captain Janeway's eyes drilled an imaginary hole into the back of Paris' head in a futile attempt to read his mind. What would she give right now to be a telepath! She could not read Paris at all. Janeway had no choice but to recline in her chair and put her trust into him. There was no other way around this. The tense frown on her brow seemed to have become a permanent part of her.
"Set a course for Ronara Prime and take us into orbit, Mr. Paris."
"Aye, Captain!" he replied, and Janeway found herself suppressing a shudder at the smugness of his tone. He sounded far too happy with himself for her taste.
"Mr. Tuvok, Mr. Kim, keep checking for ships in the area and scan the entire region for lifesigns. I don't want any unexpected surprises," she said, never letting Paris out of her sight. Was that a muffled laugh she had just heard from him? Her stomach tightened as yet another shudder threatened to expose her unease to the bridge officers. She decided it would be best to recline in her chair and give the crew at least the appearance of control. She could not allow them to sense her apprehension. That would be detrimental to morale. They could not afford to make any mistakes now. Continuing her brooding, she kept her gaze permanently fixed on Paris.
Approximately thirty minutes later Voyager entered the first system in the Terikof belt. Janeway ordered the crew to go to red alert. The shields went up and the entire bridge was plunged into relative darkness with nothing but the red alert claxons providing illumination. Tuvok and Kim had scanned the Moriya system thoroughly, but neither of them had detected any lifesigns or ships. Maybe Paris was cooperating after all. Everyone was beginning to relax a little and Janeway ordered to end red alert. There was no point keeping everyone on edge with no lifesigns about, and it would only drain their energy reserves if they kept the shields up for no reason. Janeway was certain that they would need all the energy they could get once they entered the Badlands. The gravitational eddies there would require Voyager to be protected by maximum shielding.The Captain allowed herself to relax a little and began studying the sensor readings on her own console. Suddenly her attention was drawn to a phenomenon in the air right in front of her. Too late she realized that it was the familiar sparkle of a transporter beam. Wide-eyed she watched as a small metal cylinder materialized at her feet. A feeling of dread and panic began to rise within her. It was all happening too quickly. She heard a small hiss as some kind of a gaseous compound began to escape from the metallic container. A split second later she felt as if her life-force were being drained from her body. She had barely enough time to register that several of her crewmembers were sinking to the ground, before she drifted into oblivion. Within seconds of the cylinder's manifestation the entire bridge crew had been rendered unconscious.