Author's note:
This has taken a while; Isabelle and her older brother tend to take up time. Meet Angry Janeway; we've seen her before.
Now for the responses:
Libertymaquis: Thank you. I'm glad you like the story. We'll see if this is the one you expected.
H-bomb: Yeah, I guess it is reminscent of that, although not intentionally.
Worker72: Well, that's one way it could have gone. But it didn't. As far as a cloaking device goes, I recall that the Romulans gave the Defiant the one it had.
JadziaKathryn: Yeah, Chakotay was not too happy. Here's your explanation.
Saavik: Yes, me and my cliffies. Here's where you find out.
Marshpusey: Thanks, this is based off the Equinox ideas. The other fic I wrote was 'Prodigal Daughter' which featured Marla Gilmore of the Equinox.
Lady of Nightmares: Glad you like it. Here's another chapter.
Voyager rocked and reeled. The Karnaii barrage was savage and unforgiving. She'd given the order to fire, and shields had barely gone up before losing forty percent of their strength. She'd have to give the Karnaii one thing: when they fought, they meant it.
The lights had dimmed on the bridge. Red lights pulsed. None of the Karnaii ships could have been a match for Voyager on a one-to-one basis. But this wasn't a one-to-one basis; there were twenty-odd ships all shooting at the one Intrepid-class ship, and about two-thirds of them had Klingon-style disruptors. Size was not always an advantage. Even with Tom Paris's skilled hands on the helm, Voyager couldn't make evasive maneuvers before the smaller, more nimble Karnaii ships moved back into position. Voyager was a big, fat target for them to shoot at, and it seemed their targeting systems were not flawed. Meanwhile, she was trying to minimize shooting at them. Things were badly bent, but not yet broken. Alarms wailed overhead. Computers beeped incessantly. It made it damned hard to think.
"Do we have a clear shot at the shuttle?" Janeway shouted over the din.
Tuvok's face might as well have been carved from granite. "We must disable one more Karnaii vessel."
"Do it," Janeway ordered. The shuttle was almost completely gone now. A phaser beam leaped out from Voyager and struck a Karnaii vessel, which began to list and reel in space. Once again, they had visual contact with the shuttle – for what that was worth.
Another blast. "Our fore shield is down to twenty-six percent," Kim warned.
"Target the shuttle and fire!" Janeway insisted, standing tall on her bridge. She hadn't wanted it this way. She would have given anything for things to go differently. But under no circumstances could she allow people who wore the same uniform she did to carry out another atrocity like that on Spanos. That uniform stood for exploration, science, peace. She would not brook such a betrayal of it. That took precedence over everything.
The shuttle faded entirely from view a split second before the phaser struck home. Janeway felt her stomach tighten. Had this all been for naught?
Then, after a few scant seconds that passed like eternities, the shuttle came back into sharp focus. Its engines went dark and it began to keel over, floating helplessly. One nacelle flickered back on and went dark a second later. She grinned tightly.
"Get us in close enough to beam the shuttle crew off," she ordered. "Get a tractor beam on the shuttle, if you can. We could use an extra shuttle."
Tension was palpable on the bridge as her crew obeyed her orders. Paris had his hands full trying to guide the ship towards the shuttle through a sea of hostile raiders. Disapproval radiated from Tuvok's station. Next to her, Chakotay seemed troubled, staring at the Karnaii ships as if pained.
"I have a transporter lock," Kim announced. "They're trying to raise shields...," his console beeped and booped as his fingers flew over the keys. "I've got them."
"Security to Transporter Room One," Chakotay said, sounding strangled and troubled. Janeway glanced over at him. What was going on behind that tattooed brow? The order made perfect sense; the renegade officers would not be too happy to be on board.
"Can we get the shuttle?" she asked.
"Karnaii vessels are moving to intercept," Kim replied. "I can't get a tractor beam on it."
Another explosion rocked the ship. The cannons on the starbase fired some sort of pulse at them. It wasn't modern, but it was powerful.
"Shields are down to twenty percent," Tuvok said icily.
Janeway exhaled through her teeth. She didn't want them to have the shuttle, but she didn't want to lose her own ship over it, either. She had the criminals in custody; that would have to do.
"Turn us about," she said. "Set a course for Latarran space. Warp nine."
Paris acknowledged the order, and Voyager wheeled, leaving its smaller tormentors behind. The Karnaii raiders attempted to pursue them, but superior technology won the day; they just couldn't keep up. Leaving the shuttle behind nagged at her, but this could not become a vendetta.
When the last raider had disappeared to a mere sensor echo, she sighed. "Send a message to the Karnaii," she directed. "Advise them that we apologize for this, but it was necessary to arrest those who had violated Starfleet law. If they like, we will supply engineers to repair damage to any Karnaii vessel." It was a small olive branch, but still an olive branch.
No one spoke for a moment.
"This isn't a vendetta," she said irritably. "I'll be in my readyroom. Mr. Tuvok, I'll want status reports on interrogating the prisoners. Mr. Kim, I want to know damage reports and time to repair. Mr. Chakotay, you have the conn."
She retired to her readyroom, feeling the eyes of her bridge crew on her back. How could they not understand? Crimes like Spanos could not be allowed to continue. This was a classic example of why they had a Prime Directive.
The damage to the ship was not serious, just extensive. Within an hour or two, everything was repaired. She could still sense tension in the air whenever anyone came into her readyroom. Kim seemed skittish, unnerved by seeing the senior officers like this. Paris and Torres did their jobs and kept their feelings to themselves.
The doorchime buzzed. "Come," she said shortly.
Tuvok entered, looking impassive and reserved.
"Captain," he said coolly. "We have interrogated the shuttle crew. They are currently confined to quarters on deck nine. They have not provided much in the way of useful information. Commander Kinsey has ordered them not to speak."
"Hmm." Janeway leaned back and pulled at her coffee, hoping for some comfort. "If he can pull rank, so can I. Pull the two officers out of there and put them in separate rooms. Alone. We'll bring Kinsey to the briefing room after letting him cool his heels for a while. Commander Chakotay and I will speak with him there. After that, I want Crowley."
"Very well." Tuvok pulled himself up and took a breath. He stood at letter-perfect Academy attention. "I also wish to inform you that I strongly protest your decision to fire on the Karnaii. I will be filing a report when hostilities have ceased. That was a clear violation of first-contact protocols."
Janeway sighed. "So is launching a weapon of mass destruction against a people who have never offered the Federation anything but friendliness," she said, just as icily. "So is handing over advanced weapons to a ruthless people."
"Merely because the Starfleet officers aboard the Vor'moch have violated Starfleet law does not entitle us to do the same."
"They're planning to do it again. I intend to stop them," she said icily. "The Karnaii were attempting to prevent us from arresting people we have every right to arrest. I had no choice but to open fire."
"We were in their space," Tuvok noted. "Starfleet's first-contact protocols are not optional. As a Starfleet officer, I am obligated to report this breach."
Anger twisted her. Hadn't he been on Spanos? Hadn't he seen firsthand what ignoring the Prime Directive brought? She would not allow that to continue. Not so long as her ship was capable of stopping it. As for the greater war between the Karnaii and the Latarrans – she would find a way.
"Do as you see fit, Mr. Tuvok," she said. For a moment she thought of reminding Tuvok of how many times other officers had complained of his narrowness, or how he had served in Starfleet longer than she had been alive and yet had still been a lieutenant when posted to Voyager. It would be satisfying, but it wouldn't help any. "Send Chakotay in here and take the conn. Dismissed."
Tuvok turned and left without a word. A few moments later, Chakotay replaced him. He looked haunted and troubled.
"You wanted to see me?" he asked.
"Yes," she said. "We're going to speak with Commander Kinsey about the actions of his crew."
He nodded. "Between you and me, he may have questions for our crew," he said cautiously.
Janeway let out a sigh. "I already got an earful from Tuvok," she said archly. "Don't you start."
"Tuvok probably started in about the rules," Chakotay said. "The rules don't bother me. That doesn't mean I don't agree with Tuvok, though. Why did we need to fire on them? What was so vital?"
Janeway's lips twisted. "Stopping the Vor'moch," she said. "Preventing another strike."
"We haven't done that," he pointed out. "We've got their XO, their chief engineer, and a bunch of engineers. Vor'moch can still launch without them."
"It's a start," she maintained. "It's more than we had. It was a judgment call and I made it."
Chakotay sighed. "Well," he said, "I think you made a mistake. The Karnaii didn't trust you when I went aboard, and they hate our guts now. You don't understand these people. Even when I was aboard, I saw...they're fanatical. They hate the Latarrans. Now they hate us. They're defending themselves against a bigger, brutal oppressor. What does it matter if you stop Vor'moch if the Karnaii just carry out the strike themselves?"
Janeway slammed her fist on the table. "It means Starfleet is clean," she said. "We'll find some way to get the Karnaii and the Latarrans to the table. We'll think of something. But first we're going to keep our own house in order."
Chakotay sighed. She could see it across the planes of his face just as plain as day: you can't do both, firing on the Karnaii made it easy to do the one but impossible to do the other. It didn't matter. She would find a way, somehow. She was the captain of this ship and she would find a way.
"Now," she continued. "I want you there with me to question Kinsey. I want to know what he knows."
Chakotay nodded. She could see him sealing his emotions away behind a blank mask. She rose and put her coffee mug down, wordlessly indicating that he was to follow. They proceeded down to the briefing room and took their seats. After that, it took only a few minutes for Kinsey to be brought in.
She sat at the head of the table, Chakotay by her side. Kinsey was seated at the far end of the table. He had no combadge or weapons. His face was implacable, and with the long hair and goatee he looked only faintly Starfleet. An armed security guard stood by the door, with his weapon at port arms.
"Commander Kinsey," Janeway said icily.
"Captain Janeway," he returned.
"You know why you're here," she said. "You and your crew have given technology to the Karnaii in violation of the Prime Directive. You have also engaged in an illegal and horrific attack against the Latarran colony of Spanos. I also know you are planning another attack on the colony of Salim Ru."
Kinsey did not speak for a few moments. His eyes burned at her above the bristles of his beard.
"Anything to say for yourself?" Janeway prompted.
Kinsey smiled coolly. "It's relatively simple," he said. "The Karnaii are our allies. Just as the Latarrans are yours. We did what we had to do."
"I've seen what you've done," she snapped. "I want to know about the weapon used on Spanos. And I want the location and tactical status of Vor'moch."
He chuckled. "I've seen what you've done, too...Captain."
That nettled her. Did everyone under her talk back? This was just too much.
"Why?" she snapped. "At least tell me that. Why did you do this for them? You didn't just give them the weapon. You developed it, and you tested it on Spanos, and now you're going to use it on Salim Ru. Why?"
Kinsey sighed. He looked from Janeway to Chakotay and back again, clearly taking the measure of the situation and deciding his chances. Ultimately, his decision was to answer. His voice was soft and calm, as if discussing a routine diplomatic mission instead of a war crime.
"It started off as just a straightforward trade," he said. "When we came into this part of space, we were low on food and needed dilithium ore. The Karnaii were the first species we met. They didn't have much. The Latarrans keep them on the most undesirable planets; planets where it's hard to survive. But they were willing to trade with us."
"They were freedom fighters. Warriors, in other words. Koth respected them for that. They were determined to do whatever they had to do in order to win. They're not exactly the same as Klingons – but, after all, there's nothing more honorable than victory."
"Koth decided to ally us with the Karnaii. We gave them some old cloaking technology, better shields, and disruptors. They gave us dilithium and food. We felt good about it." His steel gray eyes scanned hers, not backing down an inch, not ashamed. "We were helping an oppressed people strike back against their tormentors. But then...,"
Kinsey looked up and a faint smile crossed his bearded face. "Then, they had a trick up their sleeve. Something we never would have expected they would have. And once they showed it to us, we decided to ally ourselves further to them."
"And what was that?" Janeway asked, her tone icy.
"A way home," Kinsey said, and fell silent for a moment.
Janeway closed her eyes. "This small, unsophisticated race has a way to the Alpha Quadrant?" Sarcasm dripped from her tone. If that had been the case, the Karnaii would have made contact with the Federation long ago.
"Beta, actually," Kinsey corrected. "A wormhole. Deep in Karnaii space. Don't bother asking for the location, captain. You'd never make it there. The Karnaii will never let Voyager get that far in. They'd use kamikaze attacks on Voyager if they had to. They showed us the readings. The wormhole isn't stable, so they'd have to help us stabilize it...but they're good at making the most of what they've got, and Crowley's pulled miracles for us before. The wormhole's terminal end fluctuates; it seems to be connected to other wormholes, almost like a train station. Sometimes it ends up nowhere we've heard of. Sometimes it ends up back in Kazon space. But sometimes...well, we saw Klingon signals coming through the wormhole. It's out in the middle of nowhere in the Klingon Empire, so to speak. Koth recognized the names – just a couple of podunk Klingon colony worlds far away from the centers of the Empire. The Klingons wouldn't have noticed it because it isn't close enough to any of their big populated worlds to be interesting. But once we go through...instead of thirty years to get back home, we'd be able to make Qo'nos in a few weeks."
Janeway narrowed her eyes. Yes, now it made sense. A way home; the one thing that both the Klingon and Starfleet crews of the Vor'moch would want more than anything. All the same, it explained, but did not excuse.
"All we had to do was carry the banner," Kinsey continued. "All they wanted us to do was clear the way for them – deploy the test at Spanos, and then deploy against Salim Ru. They had five ships held back from the invasion fleet, just to help us stabilize the wormhole. Koth has tried so hard...he's a fine warrior and a fine man. But he's tired of slogging across this quadrant. And so am I."
"Koth is not a Starfleet officer," Janeway replied. "You are. And you should know that you've violated everything we stand for."
Kinsey did not appear repentant. "Koth is my captain," he said. His eyes flicked over to Chakotay. "I support him with the crew. That's what first officers do. We stand behind our captains." For the first time, he actually seemed to show some emotion other than mild contempt. "I had to back him. I'd made the bargain with him years ago. We've stood together shoulder to shoulder. He's led Klingons and Starfleet alike with no favoritism. How could I not stand behind him?"
Oh, really? Perhaps you could tell my first officer that. He seems to question everything I do.
"Koth is not your captain," Janeway said. "Koth is a Klingon officer. What he does is his business – though I intend to stop him. But don't you dare hide behind him, Commander. Starfleet regulations are clear. You are the acting commanding officer of the survivors of USS Holden. Not Koth. You." She shook her head. "Except now, I am. I'm taking your crew into custody, and you are hereby relieved of your command."
Kinsey jerked in his chair. "You can't do that," he protested.
"Yes, I can," Janeway overrode him. "You're a commander. I'm a captain. It's as simple as that." Her eyes bored into him. "I'm giving you a direct order. I want the location of the Vor'moch. I want it now. Along with any command codes you may have."
Distance flooded back into his eyes, and he leaned back and shook his head slowly.
"Don't make me angry, Commander," she said with a knife edge in her voice.
"It's too late for that, isn't it?" Kinsey smiled coolly. "No, Captain."
"Commander," she said warningly, and stood. Kinsey watched her calmly, mindful of the armed security officer at the door. He did not move. She strode over to him and glared at him.
"I'm not joking," she said. "Think of those people under you."
He shrugged. "My officers know the meaning of honor. jIjatlhpa' jatlh Homvey." He gave her a moment of sardonic silence before graciously translating the sentence: "The stars will talk before I will."
Janeway's eyes searched his, scanning across them. He seemed oddly serene. He'd made his decision. It was maddening. How dare he? It was mutiny. Was there anything she could do to stop him?
For a moment, Janeway thought of Captain Archer, captain of the first Enterprise. He had once written about throwing a prisoner in an airlock to interrogate him. It was required reading in Command School. At the time, she'd thought he was horrid, betraying Federation principles over a database.
Now, however, she understood with frightening clarity why he'd done it. What she didn't understand now was why he'd felt so guilty about it. Her first urge, primal and strong, was to drag Kinsey down to the cargo bay and have a little historical re-enactment.
Chakotay would whine about it, and so would Tuvok; they had lost their nerve somehow. All the same, Janeway didn't need to resort to that step yet. If Kinsey had forgotten he was a Starfleet officer, perhaps Crowley would be more tractable.
She gestured at the security officer. "Take Commander Kinsey to the brig," she directed. "Solitary confinement. No visitors. No replicator privileges. Nothing, until he decides to make a statement." She held a moment before smiling coolly. "And make him get a haircut."
The security officer nodded and gestured outside the door. Another one joined him. The two security officers escorted Kinsey from the room silently. He went along without complaint, realizing that they were quite ready to fire.
There was a moment of silence in the room. Then Chakotay spoke.
"Are you trying to stop Vor'moch? Because that was a fiasco."
She rounded on him, eyes blazing. "What now? Should I have given him a cookie?" Her voice dripped with contempt.
"If you want to stand up and prove your moral superiority and outrage, then you did fine," Chakotay said nonchalantly. "If you want to get useful information, you can't stand there and denounce people like that. You have to win their trust, build some rapport. You have to give them a reason to talk. Give them a way out. If you come down on them like a ton of bricks, they're going to freeze up."
She stared hard at him and shook her head in mild amazement. "I can't believe what I'm hearing," she said in wonder. "Tell me, Mr. Chakotay. When did being a Starfleet officer become so meaningless? When did it become such common practice to coddle murderers?"
The look on Chakotay's face was grave, as if he believed she was the threat. "When they have something you want to know, then it behooves you to soften up a little."
"I see," she said archly. "Well, we'll do it your way. We'll just all have coffee and donuts and have some small talk while the rest of the Vor'moch crew commits another war crime. Are you blind? There isn't time for...social niceties."
"Just listen to me," Chakotay said. "Work with me a little. I understand what you want, but you're going about it totally the wrong way. You're trying to steamroller everybody. You can't force what you want. Just let me try questioning Crowley."
"Fine," Janeway said icily.
"Standard good-cop, bad-cop. I'll start off. You come in and just help keep the pressure up."
She watched him carefully. When had he become such a weak sister? She might have to find herself someone with a little more backbone if this kept up.
"Fine," she repeated. "We'll try it your way. This time."
"How about you go into the next room and let me get things started? We can put everything on the screen. You'd see and hear everything. Then, when the time is right, you come in."
She shrugged. He really didn't understand, she realized. He didn't think of those colonists on Spanos, screaming and dying. It didn't bother him that Starfleet officers had done this. That was just a factor to him.
That wasn't how it was supposed to be. Starfleet kept its own house clean. Nothing took precedence over that. The Vor'moch had Starfleet officers. Those Starfleet officers had committed a crime. Come hell or high water, she was going to stop them.
It didn't take too long to set things up his way, though. She parked herself in a small room near the briefing room. There was no way anyone could tell if they were being monitored or not. She had a good view of the screen, and she sat and watched and stewed.
She could hear Chakotay through the intercom. Now here was Security bringing Crowley into the room. The Australian engineer looked the way Janeway wanted her to look: thoughtful and frightened.
"Good afternoon, Lieutenant," Chakotay said. "Sit down."
"Sir," Crowley said thinly.
"You know why you're here," Chakotay began. "We know about the technology you gave the Karnaii. We know about the cloaking technology, and we know about the weapon you used against the colony at Spanos."
Janeway watched the screen carefully. Crowley shifted uncomfortably in her chair and said nothing. Chakotay raised a hand and appeared sympathetic.
"Commander Kinsey has been relieved of duty and confined to the brig," Chakotay continued. "When all this is over, we're going to charge him and court-martial him. You're going to have to face the music, too. Now, I can understand how it is for a junior officer." His tone changed, becoming sympathetic. It irked Janeway.
"You're thousands of light-years from home. You're on a Klingon ship. Your command has adopted Klingon morals, Klingon ways. They give you an order, and you obey it because otherwise it's mutiny. You're caught between a rock and a hard place. But you know...you're just as responsible." He leaned forward.
"I'd like to help you," he said earnestly. "Give me something I can use to help you. Kinsey's in the brig. It's up to you, now. Talk to me, Crowley. Tell me about what happened, and I can go back to the captain and tell her you cooperated. I'll make sure she knows."
Janeway scowled. He was being far nicer than anyone ought to be to someone who had betrayed Starfleet so deeply. She knew what it was; he was giving Crowley a way to cooperate without losing her honor. Part of her didn't want it to work.
"What do you want, sir?" Crowley asked bleakly.
"Tell me about the weapon," he began.
No, Janeway thought. We need the tactical status and location of Vor'moch! She knew what he was doing: starting her off talking, and then moving to the Vor'moch. Knowing it didn't make it any easier. She wanted all tactical information on Vor'moch and she wanted it now.
"Err...I didn't design it," Crowley began. "Kormack did. I helped him fit it into a torpedo casing. Klingon ships produce an exotic baryon particle as a waste product. Vor'moch produces it too, but...ours is different."
"How so?" Chakotay asked.
"Well," Crowley said, "How's your particle physics, sir?"
That was it. Janeway rose and strode into the briefing room, her arms folded. Crowley turned and glanced at her for a moment before looking away. The look of fright and guilt was pleasing, in an odd and atavistic way.
"I know particle physics," Janeway said, her voice cool and as businesslike as she could make it. "Proceed, Lieutenant."
Crowley swallowed and walked over to the LCARS panel on the wall. Her fingers tapped out a quick staccato on the keys. A moment later, a standard subatomic diagram appeared on the wall. Crowley tapped out a few more keys and the view zoomed in. Janeway's eyes softened a bit – but just a bit. Scientific discovery always interested her; and even now the draw was still there.
"I've never seen a baryon particle like that before," she said.
"Neither had we, captain," Crowley said. "Kormack found a way to isolate them and keep them from decomposing. But when you do...," she tapped out another series. Arcane scientific symbols scrolled across the screen. From the look on his face, Chakotay had no idea what they were. Janeway did.
"A massive radiation burst," she observed.
"Yes," Crowley said in a voice barely above a whisper. "Like nuclear fission, the old nuclear warheads. It's stronger and the radiation dissipates in a few days."
Janeway leaned forward, deliberately glaring at the renegade lieutenant. "And you designed it into a first strike weapon against a society that never did a thing to you."
Crowley paused. "Captain," she said softly, "if only you'd seen how those poor Karnaii battlers are treated...how they have to live...,"
"The colonists on Spanos won't live," Janeway snapped, "because of you."
The engineer recoiled and bit her lip. Janeway put her hands on her hips and let her eyes blaze. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Chakotay trying to wave her off. She ignored it. A Vor'moch officer could expect no better.
"Is there a way to disable the weapon?" Janeway asked. "Or detect it?"
Crowley shook her head. "Not from here," she said.
"Well," Janeway said briskly. "Then we'll need the location of the Vor'moch, Lieutenant."
Crowley opened her mouth and closed it, her eyes distant. Loyalties warred on her face. She glanced at Chakotay, then away into the corner.
"Commander Kinsey has been relieved of duty," Chakotay reminded her. "You take orders from us now. You're a Starfleet officer. You wear the same uniform we do. Do the right thing, Lieutenant."
It was harder than she expected to cross her arms and not do anything. The whole thing was infuriating: from Tuvok and Chakotay second-guessing her to Kinsey's smooth defiance to Crowley needing to be pushed. She had to consciously force herself to speak in a less venomous tone.
"Think of the people under you, Lieutenant," she said. "Those engineers, who are looking to you as their leader. They're relying on you."
Looking strained and torn, Crowley put her head in her hands. She muttered something under her breath that Janeway didn't catch. When she spoke, her voice was tight and pained.
"Vor'moch's status is green across the board," she said, staring at the table miserably. "Weapons are good, shields are good, and...the baryon warhead is ready for launch. They could have launched already. I don't know, captain."
Janeway nodded slowly. Finally, a little respect and obedience. Was that so much to ask?
"And their location?" she prompted.
Before Crowley could reply, the ship bucked suddenly, as if a giant had slapped it from the bottom. She could both hear and feel the explosion under her feet. Alarms began to wail. Red lights began to pulse from the wall panel. Janeway staggered and grabbed the table to keep from falling. Her combadge twittered, and Harry's voice spoke urgently from it.
"Captain to the bridge! Klingon ship just decloaked off our port bow! They're firing!"
"Red Alert!" Janeway shouted, the words coming on reflex.
"What he said," Crowley added.