Star Trek Voyager: Eternal Soul

Chapter XX: Role Models

Alpha Quadrant, San Francisco Coliseum, June 30, 2156:

Jonathan Archer stood gallantly at the podium, with a smiling but wistful, elderly gray-haired woman at his side. "As many of you no doubt realize, I've been here before," he pointed out as he surveyed the stadium surrounding them. "I notice that there are a lot of empty seats this time around, and that's unfortunate. So after you leave today, I hope all of you will help me spread the news about Columbia… about the ultimate sacrifice that Captain Erika Hernandez and her crew were willing to pay so that Starfleet can continue its exploration of space."

He placed a comforting hand around the shoulder of the woman standing next to him. "I want you all to meet Margaret Hernandez, Erika's mother," he informed the silent crowd. "She was among those who were present the last time I gave a speech at this podium – shortly after the Xindi threat against Earth had ended. Throughout all of the growing pains that our planet has suffered through as we begin reaching out to other life forms and civilizations, Margaret and others like her have all too often paid the price for the choices made by their sons and daughters who serve in Starfleet. On too many occasions we have lost people… good people who did their jobs well and were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Archer paused, noticing that the thousands of people who were present remained – for the most part – surprisingly silent. The usual whispers and murmurs of private conversations were absent on this occasion, and as he gazed back and forth at the sea of distant faces his emotions threatened to overwhelm him. "We may never know what actually happened to Columbia," he admitted. "This isn't the first time one of our ships has gone missing and been declared lost, nor – I expect – will it be the last. Fortunately there remains in our midst a great many individuals who are willing to train hard and risk their lives so that we can negotiate with and establish peaceful relations with new cultures. Starfleet's mission has never changed… we seek to meet new civilizations and interact peacefully with them so that potential threats like the Xindi incident are identified and defused before they can escalate into a hostile confrontation. The original Xindi attack on our planet proved that we cannot simply hide here on Earth and hope that neighboring civilizations will ignore us… we must step forward and accept an active role in defining our future. If we don't, others will do it for us."

Again the Enterprise Captain paused long enough to take a deep breath. Glancing down at his notes, Archer smiled a bit wistfully. "I lost 27 of my own crew during the Xindi mission and its aftermath. So no one knows just how difficult losing people under your command can be more than I do. Now… after four months missing in action, Starfleet Command has finally made the decision to declare Columbia and her crew officially lost. Unless a miracle takes place, we will never see Captain Erika Hernandez or any of her crew again. But that doesn't mean that we should forget them, nor does it mean that Starfleet's mission should end. We will continue to explore space peacefully and negotiate with other space faring cultures, collecting allies anywhere and everywhere we can find them. Through diversity and friendship we will form treaties that will positively shape our future for centuries to come. We must do this… I have seen for myself that there are far too many warlike species out there – enemies with advanced technology at their disposal. These people represent a dangerous threat to our continued survival, and they must not be allowed to spread their influence into our territory."

Archer glanced over at Margaret Hernandez and nodded. "Mrs. Hernandez will now lead us in a short prayer that was one of Erika's favorites, followed by a moment of silence to honor all of the brave souls lost aboard Columbia," he continued. "I sincerely hope everyone here and all over our globe will forever remember my personal friend and her loyal crew. Their sacrifice, along with all of the others who have given their lives throughout the years to defend freedom, security, and a lasting peace, should never be forgotten. With your continued help, it never will be. Thank you, each and every one of you, for attending today's ceremony regardless of your personal feelings regarding alien civilizations. May your own children and grandchildren grow up safe on this planet and become as brave and courageous as the good people whom we have gathered here today to honor and remember."

Mrs. Hernandez smiled at Jonathan Archer and then stepped up to replace him at the podium. "A moment of silence please, for those who have defended us from tyranny and oppression over the centuries. So long as our free society stands, may their contribution to the safety of its people never forgotten." Both she and Captain Archer lowered their heads in silent tribute.

Delta Quadrant, Starship Voyager, Stardate 54952.2:

Samantha Wildman leaned down with a huge smile of relief on her face and hugged her daughter as Naomi disembarked from the newly returned Delta Flyer. Behind her Governor Ruksin's children followed close behind, talking excitedly about all of the adventures that they had been a part of since coming aboard Voyager. Icheb lingered for a moment, standing next to the outer hatch and carefully surveying the damaged port nacelle. He also noticed plenty of angry looking black scorch marks scattered across the shuttle's hull… some of the enemy plasma bolts had melted the surface metal in places. Despite the damage, it was quite apparent that their shields had done an efficient job of deflecting incoming attacks.

"I'm so relieved that you're all right Naomi!" Samantha told her daughter. She barely noticed Tom Paris and the Doctor brush by her as she crushed her daughter close and kissed her forehead lightly. "When Neelix called to tell us your ship had been attacked, I was naturally worried."

"Why?" Naomi asked curiously, looking up at her mother with bright, questioning eyes. "We made sure to ask him to let you know that everyone was all right… well, everyone except for Commander Data." They both turned toward the Flyer's still open hatch in time to see the damaged android being carried off on a medical stretcher. Several members of Tuvok's security team approached the Rafalian children and offered to escort them back to guest quarters.

Harry Kim was the last to debark, and the strain of command showed plainly on his face. He was getting more and more used to it as their time in the Delta Quadrant continued to increase, but situations where he had no safety net – where the big decisions were completely entirely his call – weighed heavier on him than he had at first thought they might as a newly graduated cadet. The Ensign leaned against the side of the Delta Flyer for a moment, taking several deep breaths and letting emotions he had temporarily pushed to the back of his mind slowly ease out of him. In front of the children he had worn the face of a man who was in complete command… projecting an image that nothing was wrong. Privately he had been worried sick that he might not be able to keep them all safe and out of harm's way as he had been ordered to.

An unexpected shriek of despair snapped Harry instantly back to attention.

"What have you done to my ship?" the voice of Tom Paris howled from the starboard side of the shuttle. "This is awful!"

Ensign Kim walked around the front of the Flyer and joined Paris on the starboard side, where the damage to the crumpled, buckled portions of the hull plating was most noticeable. They had indeed successfully collided with the Kafic Relente as planned and thereby caught the Rafalian crew off guard, but their shuttle had not escaped the incident unscathed. "We're all just fine, thank you very much for asking," Kim told Paris with a dry smile. "For what it's worth, the Delta Flyer II is everything you wanted her to be," he pointed out with approval. "We went toe to toe with one of General Skellan's most powerful starships and our hull never once breached. This version of our super shuttle is even more durable than the original."

Tom Paris was holding his head with both hands, a look of disbelief still clouding his features. "Did you fight with the starship or simply let it run over you?" he asked dryly, his sarcasm unleashed only because he had already noticed that everyone had returned safe and sound. Still, he wasn't so upset that he failed to notice the look of exhaustion on his friend's face. The expression of outrage on his face disappeared almost instantly. "Are you all right Harry?" he asked with genuine concern.

"We did what we had to do to survive," Kim reminded his friend. "And even though we sustained several direct hits and even collided once with the enemy, the warp drive is the only major system non-functional. The cloak would still work if it had a decent power supply. A couple of weeks in Voyager's repair shop and she'll be good as new," he predicted.

"A month is more likely," decided Paris somewhat cynically. "B'Elanna is not going to be happy if I'm playing grease monkey all the time… I guess my plan to rebuild another car on the holodeck is on hold indefinitely… at least until we can get repairs completed here."

Harry slapped his friend playfully on the back. "The Flyer will be all right," he predicted optimistically. "Although I want to head down to Sickbay yet and check on Commander Data's condition. He nearly sacrificed himself to save us, and I'm not sure yet whether or not the damage he sustained can be repaired."

Tom nodded sharply at the news. "Let's both go check on him," he said softly. Together they left behind the repair teams already working on the Delta Flyer's damaged systems and moved out of the shuttle bay.

For once the Doctor was a bystander in his own Sickbay, and he didn't like the situation one bit. He could offer advice and provide some insight on the android's design and offer advice regarding the little he knew regarding positronic psychological behavior, but in this particular case he was truly a novice. B'Elanna, Seven and the Captain were busy running tricorder scans of Data while Tuvok assisted them in their attempts to repair the Commander's damaged systems.

"The activity in his neural net is spiraling out of control exponentially," Torres noted grimly. "Unless we find a way to stop it quickly, there will be permanent damage."

Lying flat on his back in the central bio-bed, Data nodded in acknowledgement. "There already has been significant damage, I suspect," he pointed out.

"What do you mean Commander?" asked Janeway, glancing down at his pale golden skin.

Data observed her expression with interest. "How can you be so concerned about someone you have just met?" he asked curiously. "Admittedly I am an artificial life form… expendable."

Janeway's smile was wan, but she chuckled lightly. "Before someone joins my crew I carefully examine their service record," she pointed out. "You may not realize it Commander, but in your efforts to emulate human behavior over the years you have repeatedly demonstrated an admirable ability to mix sincere compassion with a willingness to sacrifice yourself to save others. While technically you are not human, you certainly behave like one… certainly more so than many real humans whom I have met over the years." She studied the results of her newest tricorder scan, looking for telltale clues that would help them. "Now what did you mean by that comment about already being damaged?"

Data turned his head to the left so that B'Elanna could access the control systems on the right side of his skull. "The replication process used to create a duplicate neural net here in the Delta Quadrant was very close to perfect, but I believe there were certain flaws that were carried over from the original copy of me."

Torres looked intrigued. "We didn't find any sign of that," she pointed out. "None whatsoever."

"Several times during my counterpart's service aboard the Enterprise, he has been damaged severely enough to require major repairs. The most serious of these events occurred on a mission to Barkon IV, where my Alpha Quadrant original's positronic matrix was overloaded. The damage to his neural net caused temporary amnesia and left permanent digital scarring within the positronic brain. Although the copy of the new matrix that your crew replicated here is – for the most part – identical, I firmly believe that residual damage from the original was improperly duplicated. The damage from that Barkon IV mission was aggravated during my own recent battle with the Rafalians, aggravated to the point where the damaged areas once again began disrupting normal positronic activity."

B'Elanna shrugged. "That shouldn't be happening, should it? If your neural net in the Alpha Quadrant was able to detect and bypass the damaged areas and properly tag them as unusable, then there should be no problem. Those correction subroutines should have been replicated identically when we downloaded a copy of your software to create you."

Data paused for a moment as he activated a series of internal automated diagnostics activated. He stared straight ahead for about thirty seconds before continuing with his explanation. "Somehow the damaged areas are not being properly bypassed," he observed, touching his left temple with his remaining good hand. "Even before I piloted the Delta Flyer off of Voyager, several of my self diagnostic routines reported minor anomalies within my neural net. After I was damaged, those anomalies became more and more pronounced, to the point where I began seeing Ensign Kim and others aboard the shuttle as people I met during the Barkon IV incident."

Seven's expression was concerned. "I am detecting electrical activity within the damaged areas of your neural net," she reported. "We could use some of my Borg nanites to repair the damage, but I don't believe that any such effort on our part will correct your current malfunction. The electrical overload that your body suffered after you were shot on the Kafic Relente burned out some of your internal storage nodes and thereby rendered much of your programming useless."

The android nodded with understanding. "Much of it has shut down as a result of those damaged storage nodes," he admitted. "With much of my software corrupted and other subroutines unavailable, the programming that is still functioning properly has no way to know that it is accessing those damaged areas within my neural net."

B'Elanna sighed. "I'm beginning to believe you two are correct," she decided, using a slender metallic tool to probe the precision circuitry located beneath Data's outer skull. "Even the functions that rebooted properly after your last overload are gradually destabilizing. Keeping a copy of you running here in the Delta Quadrant seemed like a great idea when we first initiated the project, but we don't know enough about you to repair damage on this scale without completely shutting you down until new hardware can be replicated. After that, we could reload your software from our original download – but that would amount to a complete reboot and restore your memory back to the point when we first activated you."

Data smiled knowingly. "Then I think that you should do just that."

Captain Janeway shook her head slowly. "What you're suggesting is pretty extreme," she reminded him. "We're talking about more than temporary amnesia this time… if we create a replacement body and transfer an undamaged, backup copy of your software into the new android, you would lose all of the memories that you have accumulated since you joined us here in the Delta Quadrant. This version of you would, for all intents and purposes, die… we would be starting completely over with a brand new Data."

The Doctor was in complete agreement. "You would lose that special part of you that has become unique," he pointed out. "Remember Commander, you have been granted permission by Starfleet Command to explore your sentient nature. The court decision that you were involved in years ago granted you all the rights due a sentient life form. There are ethical boundaries in play here, including medical decisions that we have to carefully evaluate before making a final recommendation with – or without – your permission."

"You have little choice in this matter," Data stated factually. "As Lt. Torres has pointed out, my software functions are destabilizing. I have managed to compensate for now, but that will change rapidly as time continues to pass. I suggest that you shut down this copy of me and create a new one. Yes I will lose the memories I have accumulated so far but there is little choice in the matter. Keeping this version of me alive will only cause undue suffering as I continue to malfunction. Any repair effort you attempt from this point forward has a significantly high probability of failure. I therefore give you permission to terminate my current functions in favor of a new model."

Janeway and the Doctor exchanged similar, doubtful looks. "I don't like this idea," she decided. "I don't like it one bit."

Gamma Quadrant, Benini Star System, Stardate 54961.5:

Captain's log, Stardate 54961.5: The Enterprise, along with the rest of the Starfleet task force assigned to protect us, continues to work closely with and supervise the rehabilitation of the Jem'Hadar on the surface of Benini Five. Several days ago, the first set of Dominion soldiers awakened after ten days of sedation. Both Doctors Bashir and Crusher worked very aggressively to break the Ketracel-White addiction during this time. According to initial reports I have received their efforts have been quite successful. Although the Jem'Hadar continue to suffer from withdrawal symptoms, the worst of their addiction has been broken and a carefully planned medication schedule is being used to gradually wean them completely away from the powerful substance that once completely controlled their lives.

Commander Riker and his team have returned in their runabout bearing the remains of Columbia's crew. I have already contacted Deep Space Nine with this news, and Patrick Hazelton has assured me that a proper ceremony will be held upon our return in honor of those who paved the way for Starfleet all those years ago. I have been asked to speak at the event and immediately accepted the invitation to do so. After a working lunch this afternoon, I have also spent time reviewing our historical files and analyzing the speech that Captain Jonathan Archer delivered in their honor so many years ago after Columbia was officially declared lost.

It gives me great pleasure to know that we have finally resolved the mystery of that disappearance – now nearly two hundred years ago. It is only fitting that these heroes should be honored properly. History will now accurately record where the brave crew of that ship traveled to, so that we can remember all that they sacrificed in order to keep our Alpha Quadrant safe. Commander Hazelton has informed me that it is quite probable that Columbia will once again be space worthy and able to fly during the planned memorial service.

Beverly Crusher and Julian Bashir were busy inoculating patients when Captain Picard found them. A long line of grumpy, freshly awakened Jem'Hadar soldiers were standing and waiting to receive the latest in a series of progressively less concentrated doses of the powerful narcotic that once ruled their lives. Crusher glanced up at the Captain as he approached them, flanked by Worf, Chief O'Brien and several other Starfleet security officers.

"It's good to see you Jean Luc," she admitted. "The weather down here is hot and the work non-stop. But as you've seen, the progress we have made is well worth all the effort."

Picard nodded in response, touching Dr. Bashir lightly on the shoulder. "Your achievements on this matter are even better than expected. Once the Enterprise returns to Deep Space Nine, I plan to recommend that Commander Hazelton issue a commendation in your honor. The violence here in the Gamma Quadrant has decreased substantially already… the lives your procedure is saving number in the thousands."

Julian found himself centered around a rare moment of humility as his gaze fell on the smiling face of his old friend Miles O'Brien. "Great things take time Captain," he stated honestly. "I have been working on a way to break this terrible addiction for years… your Dr. Crusher and many others submitted ideas and advice to me on many occasions via subspace – ideas that eventually figured into the final solution. I take credit only for supervising the development of the procedure, but this could not have happened without the full support of Starfleet Medical."

Beverly smiled. "I still have a few connections at Starfleet," she admitted. "When they heard about the drug shortage, they knew that the Gamma Quadrant would be in extreme danger. The news drove us even harder in our efforts to find a way to help Dr. Bashir finish the work he had begun. Fortunately, he was able to resolve the lingering issues more quickly than we anticipated."

Large, well muscled Jem'Hadar soldiers continued to file by as the Doctors and their staff administered injections to each of them – injections designed to continue improving their condition. As they worked Ithlat'icar himself approached them, his expression grim and irritable but for the moment under control. "Greetings Captain Picard," he said with his booming, deep voice. "It is an honor to finally meet you in person."

Picard nodded in reply, and the small group moved away from Crusher and Bashir toward the multiple rows of tented barracks beyond that offered shelter to the small city of soldiers that had assembled on the planet's surface. Some of the tents were completely sealed and had armed guards stationed in front of them, clearly identifying the areas where Jem'Hadar who were still asleep and undergoing the initial stages of the treatment rested. "I hear that things are going well here," Picard said simply. "Your soldiers are reacting positively to our treatment schedule."

"Indeed they are," Ithlat'icar decided after a brief pause. "If someone had told me several years ago that there was a way to break our addiction to the White, I would not have believed them." He sighed heavily, turning and sizing Picard up. "You humans continue to astonish us," he told the Captain. "During our war with the Alpha Quadrant, we expected Starfleet's morale to break on many occasions, but it never did. Truly your size and stature are not reflective of the determination that lurks within your hearts."

Beside Picard Worf glanced at the Jem'Hadar leader darkly. "There is no such thing as surrender in our hearts," he stated sharply.

"Our strength comes from generations of peaceful relations with many cultures on our side of the galaxy," pointed out Picard. "When Starfleet is threatened, we quite literally have the resources of a hundred different worlds to draw upon. It is an advantage that other cultures who feud with each other cannot easily overcome."

Ithlat'icar nodded. "Eventually our numbers would have overwhelmed you… it is good that your tactical analysts accurately assessed the best opportunities to take the greatest risk. Many lives were saved by ending the war quickly."

"Your Dominion leaders made the same mistake that many others have made; it is an old story in our history. The obstacles faced by your people fighting such a war were many from a historical perspective. Your invasion of the Alpha Quadrant was a risky venture right from the start."

The Jem'Hadar glanced at him curiously. "Go on Captain. I am interested in hearing your perspective on these matters. The Founders are in a complete state of disarray, so I welcome any input you can offer as to how best to deal with them now that they no longer control the fate of my people. You don't shade the truth like the Vorta do, and I like that about you. I like it a lot."

Picard shrugged. "Early in my planet's history, many wars were fought between the different segments of our population. The ones that failed most often were the ones where an invading force had to attack one or more targets that were geographically distant. During one such war, an aggressive regime led by a vicious, overconfident dictator actually tried fighting a war on two fronts. Instead of capturing the entire world as he planned, he instead discovered his forces unable to hold territory that they had once speedily conquered."

"We have fought and lost territory in that manner also in our history," acknowledged Ithlat'icar.

"There was also a man named Napoleon who tried to conquer a country called Russia… only to discover that he ruled that land in the midst of one of its harshest winters. His occupation force ended up retreating without food and supplies, and their enemy fought them all the way back to the border. Only the technology has changed since those days… time and again wars are fought and won or lost according to the same basic principles. Your forces had no choice but to use the Bajoran wormhole simply to reach the Alpha Quadrant… that was the only short-range access point available. You might have temporarily conquered us, but I think that the Founders would have discovered that – in the long run – holding on to the territory they captured would be much more difficult than actually seizing control of it. Their dominion would have been similar to Napoleon in Russia."

Ithlat'icar listened patiently and then chuckled as he realized what Picard was driving at. "Because our control over species hostile here in the Gamma Quadrant weakened considerably each time we sent additional forces through the wormhole to reinforce our presence on your side of the galaxy."

"Exactly," agreed the Captain. "The Founders considered everyone within their Dominion to be a lower life form, not an equal. That has never been a formula for long-term success, nor does it minimize the chance that people you currently rule over will one day rise up against you. It actually encourages them to look for such an opportunity. My Starfleet colleagues from Deep Space Nine witnessed firsthand on many occasions how poorly the Founders treated people here in the Gamma Quadrant. Their superiority was achieved solely because they had the larger military… there was no friendship, respect, or compassion of any kind. Without it, a conquered people will always be resentful, disloyal, and awaiting an opportunity to rebel."

They paused atop a small hill in the center of the fenced off camp perimeter, watching a large group of Jem'Hadar soldiers below as they went through a series of exercises. Deanna Troi stood at the head of the group, leading the dozens of soldiers through a series of very intense aerobic-like maneuvers. Ithlat'icar and Captain Picard stood side by side and observed the workout for a few minutes.

"Those are Klingon calisthenics, are they not?" the large Jem'Hadar soldier asked curisouly.

"Yes," confirmed Worf. "I have taught many similar classes on the Enterprise over the years, and Commander Troi has been one of my best students. She realized immediately after the camp was set up that simply breaking your peoples' addiction to the White would not be enough. It was her idea to share something new with your men as they suffer through the remaining pains of narcotic withdrawal. The focused discipline required for these exercises takes each soldier's mind off of the physical and mental discomfort caused by the Ketracel-White treatment plan."

"Indeed it is a good idea, and I believe I shall join them and learn these techniques myself," stated Ithlat'icar approvingly. "The headaches are bothersome enough, but on several occasions I have eaten real food for the first time in my life and been unable to keep it down. Nausea is a condition I never expected to experience, even when I first stepped onto this planet knowing that I would eventually eat meals instead of hooking vials to my collar."

Picard chuckled this time, slapping the Jem'Hadar lightly on his back. "The nausea will pass," he predicted. "I also believe that you will learn to appreciate the variety of foods available along with many other cultural experiences that have been denied to your people for far too long now. We have a lot of hard work ahead of us if we are to properly heal the bad feelings between your race and the others here in the Gamma Quadrant. It will take time to reintroduce females into your species and acclimatize your culture toward a new beginning."

Ithlat'icar smiled darkly. "Many of my soldiers remain loyal to the Founders," he warned. "Myself and many others high up in the chain have long recognized the folly of the Vorta and the tyranny of the Founders, but until you won the war and liberated us we had no way to combat it. The people of this Quadrant still face a very angry group of Jem'Hadar… in many ways. I expect that many of the civilizations on the planets we ruled over for so long will likely be just as resentful towards us."

The Captain carefully considered the matter. "Starfleet plans to have a team of advisors available to assist you as much or as little as you need them. Your people can still be soldiers and the primary defenders of the Gamma Quadrant, as long as your rules of engagement are adjusted so that your people respect the rights of all sentient beings. Admittedly there will be a lot of rough spots along the way, but the Federation has been assisting other cultures in these matters for hundreds of years."

"As long as there are no Vorta involved, we will do fine," Ithlat'icar decided. "Eventually. For now my people are hated wherever they go. Where would you suggest we start if we are to overcome centuries of tyranny?"

"Time is what is most needed," said Picard honestly. "Change cannot occur overnight, and that includes the relationship between your soldiers and the populations living in this Quadrant. In time, if you truly adjust your way of life and openly accept change, I expect that the hostility will lessen and genuine trust will begin to return. That is one reason why the Starfleet war trials will be held here in the Gamma Quadrant… so that everyone here can attend and see for themselves that legitimate change is already well underway. Ambassador Odo has been very helpful in these matters, since his experience with solid life forms is proving to be a great help in winning over the hearts and minds of the other Founders."

"I respect you more than you know Captain. Where should leaders like me begin?" Ithlat'icar's gaze was intense as he stared into Picard's eyes. "We have very little experience living with others as equals. Even if I accept it, I fear that my men will not be able to."

Picard sighed as he considered the question for a moment, falling back on his extensive experience as a trained diplomat. "Then distract your men with something completely different for awhile," he suggested. "I have had the opportunity in the past few weeks to study your storied Jem'Hadar history before you were enslaved by the Founders. That background is truly fascinating, and I think that you and the other Firsts among your people should find a planet to live on and begin reintroducing that culture to your people as quickly as possible."

"My men are soldiers, not historians," pointed out Ithlat'icar. "I do not think that simply reading about our past will appeal to them."

"Then you and the other Firsts should learn the history yourselves," said Worf suddenly. "If your people continue to be warriors like mine, then tell them the stories and sing songs about your brave comrades who have fallen in battle. Encourage them to tell those same stories to each other, and to your children."

"Children?" Ithlat'icar looked puzzled.

"Your young ones will no longer be cloned," grinned Worf. "Your soldiers will once again be able to interact with… females." He growled deeply as he spoke the last word.

"There is that… and many other tough obstacles that we have yet to overcome," predicted the Jem'Hadar commander. "It will not be easy."

Picard laughed at the comment. "Getting along with others who have a completely different way of thinking than yours generally isn't easy. That's why you and your fellow leaders are going to have to become role models… like small children who are just learning, those who serve under you will emulate your behavior. Our advisors can help you with those issues as well – you must learn to be as confident and determined to embrace peace as you were to initiate war."

Ithlat'icar glanced first to Worf, then back at Picard. "Your Starfleet Command and the United Federation of Planets that it represents are the true role models," he decided. "We used to look upon the Founders as our Gods until we saw them repeatedly defeated on the field of battle. To most of our soldiers, such occurrences were simply not possible… it was extremely difficult to accept. In the end, those of us who led the rest were forced to accept it in order to avert disaster, and I will be recommending that the rest of my people learn to emulate your behavior. There will be great resistance at first, but together we will overcome it."

"Then I hope your people learn to like exploring space and interacting with other species," said Picard with a satisfied grin. "Because Starfleet has always remained peaceful unless attacked… we establish trust with each new species we encounter and become soldiers only if that trust is betrayed and there is a need to fight. Our weapons have always been for defensive purposes… that concept has not changed on Earth for centuries."

"That sounds very complicated Captain."

"It is. But there are many ways to bridge the gaps between people who are different from you. Sampling each other's food and drink is one way… my personal favorite actually. You can also accomplish a lot by listening to someone's stories about their way of life and by telling them a bit about your own. But first you have to rediscover who and what the Jem'Hadar are."

"I will include all of your recommendations when I send my next progress report to our Central Command," Ithlat'icar promised him.

Picard studied the massive Jem'Hadar commander carefully for a moment and then offered Ithlat'icar a hand of friendship. "I am pleased to have met and spoken with you sir. I would be honored if mine was the first species you initiated First Contact with." Caught by surprise, Ithlat'icar shook his hand tentatively at first and then more forcefully.

"The honor is mine as well," he decided, extending his hand next to a completely startled Worf.

Together, they stood on the crest of the hill and continued to watch the Klingon calisthenics class. Ithlat'icar roared with laughter when one of his soldiers approached Deanna Troi from behind and tried a surprise attack. Despite his superior size, he promptly landed flat on his back on the ground in front of her.

"Being aggressive is important, but being too aggressive can work against you," she pointed out unnecessarily to the stunned Jem'Hadar. "Once all of your weight is thrown in one direction, it becomes very easy for even a smaller person like myself to use it against you."

"If she had been on our side, perhaps we would have prevailed in the war," suggested Ithlat'icar, watching the Captain of the Enterprise curiously for his reaction.

Picard smiled wryly in response. "No… you would not have," he declared confidently.

Alpha Quadrant, Jupiter Station, Stardate 54961.8:

Admiral Leonard McCoy was visibly upset as he watched the image of Ensign Harry Kim from a central viewscreen in Doctor Lewis Zimmerman's holographic workshop. The two of them had gathered together in time to receive the daily transmission from Starfleet. Once again 'the Data Project' had become a priority and Reg Barclay was relaying the transmission directly from Starfleet Command on Earth.

"All attempts to reactivate Commander Data have failed?" McCoy asked incredulously, waving an index finger at the monitor. "That just doesn't make sense my boy… you must have done something different along the way this time…" The wizened, elderly Admiral touched the finger to his chin thoughtfully. "Or you didn't do something this time that you did before. It has to be one of the two... what else could it be?"

On the viewscreen Harry Kim shrugged. "Honest folks," he said sincerely. "We thoroughly documented the entire procedure the first time through… everything was meticulously recorded in case we had to repeat the process. We have done so numerous times now, but for some reason the Commander's neural net in the new test heads that we replicated aren't stabilizing this time around. His positronic matrix fluctuates unsteadily for a few minutes and then collapses completely. The software and the neural net are not integrating properly, even though they're an exact match with the originals that you transmitted to us."

Doctor Zimmerman leaned back in his seat and considered the matter carefully before throwing up his hands with growing frustration. "Well… it beats the hell out of me what's wrong!" he stated emphatically. "Something we can't identify is different this time around… I hate to admit it but I think the Admiral is correct."

Standing next to him, McCoy put a gentle hand on Zimmerman's shoulder. "Where is our version of Data… the Alpha Quadrant version? We should recruit him again and ask him for his input… after all, he put together much of the material that we used for the original project."

Zimmerman chuckled dryly and shook his head, trying hard to keep his admittedly cynical point of view under control. "Our Commander Data is still on assignment in the Gamma Quadrant," he pointed out. "And I already checked… the Enterprise is not expected back on our side of the Bajoran wormhole for at least another month – perhaps even longer than that."

"Now that's a definite problem," decided the Admiral. "Without him to bounce questions off of we've literally got bupkus to work with here!"

Ensign Kim nodded in agreement. "I've gone back to computerized simulations," he informed them. "After replicating three brand new heads here on Voyager and watching the positronic matrix collapse in each of them, it seemed kind of – well, morbid – to keep repeating the procedure over and over without first identifying the actual problem." He held up both hands helplessly. "Seven, Captain Janeway, Lt. Torres… they've all done a detailed double-check of my work to try and identify where I've gone wrong. They can't find anything that I've done differently since our last successful effort."

McCoy accessed the nearest work station and used it to pull up a detailed map of Commander Data's neural net so that he could study its intricacies carefully. "Replicating a basic neural net is the first step. Seven of Nine's modified nano-probes should then be able to fine-tune the rest of it all the way down to the quantum level if need be. I think something biological is being overlooked this time… something basic to sentient life that we simply can't see."

"And just what would that be?" asked Zimmerman crassly. "The miraculous spark of life? A precious touch on the head from the finger of God?"

"Yes… yes, you're being extremely cynical about the matter, but that's quite possibly the answer!" McCoy agreed unexpectedly, causing his colleague to wince with annoyance. "If there is truly a grand design to our universe, then it follows that we would not be allowed to create sentient life except in the manner designated by the Creator. That means male/female relations... it is how things have always worked since the beginning of known life… simple biology."

Dr. Zimmerman shook his head in angry disagreement. "Then why was it permitted when Dr. Soong first created the original Data? For that matter, why was it permitted when Voyager's crew was successful in creating a Delta Quadrant Data three weeks ago?" he demanded to know. "Why would the process of creating android life work then and not now?"

Ensign Kim had been watching them argue on his own viewscreen. "I agree with the Admiral," he said suddenly. "Data is not just any android… Lt. Torres has had extensive experience with other androids that we discovered here in the Delta Quadrant. There's something about his design that is truly unique… his sentience is something that should be difficult to duplicate. That's what has always made him such an important and vital member of Starfleet."

"Thank you Ensign," said McCoy gratefully, bowing slightly at the waist toward the viewscreen.

"Then what would you suggest we do to resolve the problem Ensign?" asked Zimmerman curiously. "We need to find an actual answer to our problem in order to get yournew crewman operational and fully functioning again."

Harry carefully thought things through before answering. Both Zimmerman and McCoy continued studying the available data freshly transmitted to Jupiter station by the Ensign as he continued to evaluate their options. "I think we should put 'the Data Project' on hold for a month or two," he decided finally. "It makes the most sense, after all."

The Admiral's attention snapped immediately toward the viewscreen. "It does?" he asked incredulously, scratching his head. "It does?" he repeated for emphasis.

"Yes," replied Ensign Kim. It was true that he was a little nervous during the times when he interacted with the two Starfleet experts. Both of them had years of experience that dwarfed his time and experience aboard Voyager considerably, but he was determined to get at the truth of the matter. Early on when they had first begun working together, he had discovered that stating what he felt was the truth – without trying to sugar coat it – was the best way to earn their respect. "Look at the reality of our situation. We only have eleven minutes per day to interact with each other, and I think you will both agree with me that we all need time to review the latest telemetry," continued the Ensign. "So I think we should wait until Commander Data returns from his mission in the Gamma Quadrant before trying again. That will give both of you the time you need to complete a thorough analysis from your end of the galaxy. Seven of Nine and I will complete a duplicate study here on our end, and we can compare notes once Data has returned from his mission and is again available to link up with us."

"I don't like that idea," growled Dr. Zimmerman. "It means we have failed to find the answer. That would be giving up, and I don't do that… I refuse to accept failure!"

"It means that we have failed to find the answer… for now Dr. Zimmerman," pointed out Harry with a chuckle. "The immediate danger here in the Delta Quadrant is over… and you need to look at things from my point of view. It may be easy for you two to continue this project at Jupiter station, but you have no idea how many people I have to listen to here on Voyager while they complain about us monopolizing that precious few eleven minutes per day we have available to communicate. Trust me, each of us taking our time to thoroughly review this problem will make it easier for Data to help us when he gets back. And it will also keep a lot of angry, family loving petty officers off my back."

Zimmerman and McCoy exchanged glances. "You'll make sure to let us know if you discover something in the interim, won't you?" Dr. Zimmerman asked suspiciously.

"Of course," Ensign Kim replied. "You two just make sure that you do the same. We'll get our version of Data operational again… it will simply take a little more time and patience than we anticipated. Obviously he is a much more complex being than we ever could have imagined when we first decided to tackle this project."

"Sentient life always will be," mumbled the Admiral softly to himself. "That's what makes it so damned precious, even if so many of us don't always realize it."

Delta Quadrant, Starship Voyager, Stardate 54962.4:

General Skellan and Prime Minister Idmund Ketterlin stood next to Captain Janeway on the Voyager bridge. The central viewscreen was once again fixed on Governor Villip Ruksin, whose wife and children stood happily reunited with him in his office on Rafali Prime. Commander Chakotay had just beamed the Governor's youngsters back to him and the elation on his face was obvious. "I cannot thank you enough for all that you and your crew have done for my people," he told Janeway. "The future for all of the Rafalian people looks much brighter, thanks due to you."

"I truly wish that there was more that we could do for you Governor," the Captain said honestly. Behind her, the lift doors opened and Chakotay emerged. "If we were on my side of the galaxy it would be very easy to station a team of cultural advisors on your planet… people with years of experience dealing with rapid cultural changes in a large population. But since we're here – in your neck of the woods – I have little choice but to drop off our Yukshaan passengers and then resume our course for home."

"We are extremely grateful that you remained as long as you did… long enough for us to get our major issues addressed," Ruksin acknowledged, nodding gratefully to her. "My people were extremely skittish about taking advice from an alien Captain at first, but once they saw firsthand how badly people like Derryn Akseth and Hallis Jatt were misleading them… well, let's just say an objective third party suddenly became much more appealing to them."

Janeway's eyes lit up and she suddenly snapped her fingers. "I'm glad that you brought that subject up Governor," she decided. "We still have the matter of your Prime Magnate to discuss. What do you want us to do with Derryn Akseth and the other prisoners we have confined here on Voyager? I'm sure you'll want them returned to the surface, since I certainly don't have room to confine them here."

The Governor smiled wryly as she watched him closely. "Things have changed significantly since he became a 'guest' aboard your vessel," noted Ruskin with an amused laugh. "But I'm certain that he is lonely and longing to return to the people he was appointed to serve. I therefore think you should return Akseth to the Temple Of The People… the place that he claims to love so very much."

"We'll do that," agreed Janeway with a nod. "You may expect his arrival shortly."

"Oh…" Ruksin rose from his chair and nodded to her with great respect. "Before I forget… please let me also offer a sincere thank you for returning the Enumalis to our Temple," he acknowledged. "The replica that I destroyed truly shook the faith of many of my people who witnessed that event. Now that the original has been restored, my political opponents cannot use its destruction as a rallying point to recruit additional rebels to their cause."

"It was my pleasure to temporarily keep it safe from harm aboard Voyager," the Captain responded. "Your Enumalis is a beautiful symbol of your people's faith, and I must admit that I would not have felt completely comfortable if it had actually been destroyed due to our intervention in your affairs. This is a much better solution… now your people know firsthand that their faith can survive even a corrupt ministry. If someone tries to lead you astray in the future, you know now that you simply have to replace the bad souls with good ones and resume your prayers."

"We will most certainly do that," Ruksin promised as his wife and children stood next to him, all of them waving with bright smiles as they offered their good-byes. The transmission faded back to an image of Rafali Prime and the Captain smiled at the memories. Truly this part of their visit to the Delta Quadrant had yielded some very positive results.

"Thank you for rendezvousing with us General," she told Cabreu Skellan. "We'll accompany your flagship back to your fleet and insure that you and your entire delegation are safely returned to Yukshaan space. Also, if you could see that Joseth Addersbay gets a ride back to his people I would sincerely appreciate it."

"A favor I can easily accommodate," nodded the General respectfully.

"I too wish to thank you," admitted Ketterlin. "The damage to our world could have been much worse… I am glad that this Vryke creature is gone for good."

"So am I Minister Ketterlin," decided Janeway. "So am I." She looked a bit perplexed as she spoke the words. "I still haven't decided where to display the granite."

Each member of the command team had assembled on the bridge later that afternoon as Voyager finally left the Yukshaan system behind for good. All eyes were on the viewscreen, watching the glowing remnants of the destroyed wormhole that the Vryke had once used on its journey to cross into the Delta Quadrant. The creature had done an excellent job of covering its tracks upon exiting… the subspace rupture was almost completely sealed. Still, 'Q' had dispatched them to these coordinates for a reason, so Janeway continued to hold on to the hope that they would find at least some kind of shortcut… even a minor one. Unfortunately, her traditional optimistic expectations had so far gone unrewarded on this occasion.

Tuvok studied the information on his tactical console carefully, looking for any positive signs that would benefit their cause. "If we used a combination of phasers and photon torpedoes, we might be able to reopen the rift," he observed. "However, if we did so my projections indicate the new tunnel would reach less than ten percent of the distance remaining for our journey home."

B'Elanna was sitting at the engineering station and she turned in her seat, noting that – as expected – his eyebrow was raised. "But…" she said expectantly. "There has to be a but to your next statement… there always is." She glanced toward Paris and he nodded his head with her in total agreement.

Again Tuvok glanced down at the complex instrumentation scanning the area around Voyager. "But," he continued with a dry glance toward Torres, "as everyone already knows, the wormhole reaches back through time. We have unsuccessfully encountered this type of obstacle before."

"How far back in time does it reach?" asked Janeway curiously.

Next to Tuvok, Seven of Nine performed several quick calculations. "This particular tunnel through space/time originated in the Alpha Quadrant, late twenty-third century Earth time. According to sensor estimates, the exit aperture on this end first appeared approximately fifteen months ago."

Chakotay glanced inquisitively toward Seven and Tuvok. "Could we adjust the intensity and yield of our weapons and use it to control the distance we travel?" he wondered. "Perhaps we could journey partially through the rupture and emerge at a closer exit point." He shrugged his shoulders. "We may not get all the way home, but it could take years off our journey."

Seven shook her head. "That would not be advisable," she countered. "The Borg have experimented repeatedly with time travel phenomena, even made use of it on many occasions – as Starfleet is well aware – to achieve a tactical advantage. There are always temporal dangers involved that must carefully be avoided in the process. For example, if we use our weapons to make the necessary adjustments to exit early, as Commander Chakotay is suggesting, we still would be traveling back through time… the temporal displacement was a constant in the equations used to create this rupture and cannot easily be changed. To do so would risk destroying the stability of the original rupture, and we would quickly discover that safe travel through it would then be impossible."

The Captain had been listening to the discussion patiently. "How far back in time would we go?" she asked with a quick wave of one hand. "Suppose we shave a thousand light years or so off of our course and travel back in time six months… or even six weeks for that matter before exiting early. That still gives us a tremendous advantage. Think about it… we could notify Starfleet that we would be out of contact with them for awhile. After all, we definitely wouldn't want to interfere with them as they communicate with the other Voyager, that earlier version of ourselves dealing with the Vryke problem."

Paris held his hands over his ears. "This is all very technical and confusing," he noted irritably.

Janeway organized her thoughts. "Step one: We use the wormhole to travel back in time and toward home. That throws us a lot closer to home and takes a year or two off of our trip. Step two: Since we're exiting back into our recent past, we shave even more light years off the trip home by heading directly for the Alpha Quadrant at maximum warp once we arrive in the past. That means this version of Voyager would be busy moving rapidly toward Earth while the earlier version of ourselves is communicating with Starfleet and solving the Vryke crisis. Step Three: Once time on this ship returns to the present we will have gotten even closer to home and can then re-establish contact with Starfleet Command."

Ensign Kim was elated. "I see what you mean Captain," he said. "That just might work!"

Tom Paris swiveled in his seat and stared at them. "You've got to be kidding me!" he said with complete bewilderment, scratching his head. "Traveling to a past where we already exist means we would have TWO Voyagers people," he declared, holding up two of the fingers on his right hand for emphasis. "If you think I'm confused, just wait until you try to explain this one to Reg Barclay and Admiral Paris."

Chakotay had been listening quietly. "If we behaved ourselves it might be worth a roll of the dice," he admitted finally. "Once we used the wormhole, we would have to aim directly for home and not interact with anyone until enough time passed to return us to the original point where we left. Otherwise we would risk creating unpredictable temporal disturbances or even inadvertently altering the future. If we encountered someone traveling back toward this area of space, for example, we certainly wouldn't want to change anything to do with their mission… especially if there is a possibility it might interfere with the earlier version of Voyager entering Yukshaan space for the first time. We need to let that earlier version of ourselves successfully confront and destroy the Vryke to prevent severe, unpredictable temporal disturbances from developing."

"We wouldn't do anything to change history," promised Ensign Kim, enthusiastic as usual about even the remote possibility of a shortcut. "We could just head straight for home and not waver in the slightest until our ship's clock returned to the time when we left."

"As the Captain has pointed out, we would lose contact with Starfleet in the process," stated Tuvok matter of factly. "They need to know precisely where and when we will be at each point during our trip through the Delta Quadrant in order to open a micro-wormhole within our communications range. If we travel too far while remaining out of contact, we risk permanently losing that link with them."

"You and Seven can estimate our exit point from the subspace rupture and the expected distance we would travel until we returned to our present," said B'Elanna eagerly. "I'm sure we could arrange some sort of rendezvous point where contact could be re-established."

Janeway sighed heavily, accepting the reality of the situation. "Listen to us," she observed. "Really listen to all the things that would have to go right in order for all of this to work. When does anything go completely the way it's supposed to, particularly the first time it's tried?" She met their gaze – each of them – one by one. "It's too risky."

"Captain…" Ensign Kim stopped in mid-sentence as Chakotay glanced sternly at him.

"I know you think it can work Harry," the First Officer told him. "And there is every reason to believe that we could get away with it and have everything end as successfully as we want it to end. But can you guarantee that we wouldn't encounter anybody? Can you assure us that we won't cross into someone's territory and unknowingly anger them? If we do anything while in the past with consequences that ripple back toward and interferes with the Yukshaan sector, it is quite possible the events that have already occurred there could change radically. Our success against the Vryke might even be undone, and all of those people in the Trade Coalition plunged back into war and chaos."

"We would be careful," Harry insisted. "We always are."

"Oh?" Chakotay regarded him sternly. "Have you received any messages from your future self lately Harry? Remember that fiasco? We've already given in to our enthusiasm once or twice before and taken those calculated risks to get home earlier – risks that almost killed everyone on this ship. We can't blindly gamble with lives and time itself unless we're certain there is a high probability of success and minimal risk to the people living in the space we travel through."

"We could also possibly justify it if our lives were at stake and we simply had no other alternative," decided Janeway. "The information that 'Q' provided to me promised that coming here would lead us to a wormhole that would cut a few years off of our journey," she pointed out, holding up the padd he had given her. "But I can't recall him ever stating specifically that the wormhole would still be open and stable enough to travel through. I think it would be totally in character for him to send us here simply so that he could watch us play the Good Samaritan to all of those people in the Trade Coalition. I am happy we were able to accommodate him and save lives, but I wish he had been more up front about the matter."

"That kind of behavior sounds exactly like him," agreed Paris.

"So where does that leave us?" asked B'Elanna curiously. "We've saved the Yukshaan Trade Coalition, but we lost Data – lost our new crew member in the process. I for one was getting used to having him around… he's the fastest and most accurate backup engineer we've ever had!"

"Don't forget about the Delta Flyer II," Paris sighed, casting a nasty glance back over his shoulder at Ensign Kim. "We're looking at over a month's worth of repairs there, minimum."

Harry held up his hands defensively, with an expression of pure innocence. "I was only following orders," he said with a small smirk. "Commander Data made that call."

"I've studied the logs and your own report," Tom told him. "That tractor beam gimmick was all your idea… and it is so like you Harry, putting the safety of your passengers before a perfectly good ship. Data wanted a distraction of some sort… he didn't specifically order you to use the Flyer as a pinball in the process."

Ensign Kim was actually starting to look a little angered by Paris' comments. "Hey!" he said sharply. "There weren't a whole lot of other ideas to work with… the diversion had to look harmless or we would have been instantly vaporized! I was there – remember?"

Everyone watched the two of them going back and forth for a few seconds longer. Finally, Janeway threw up her hands and laughed. "Enough!" she said louder than she wanted to. "The matter is settled… we may not like the bottom line, but messing around with time and the integrity of the future is most certainly not an option on this occasion."

Chakotay nodded slowly in her direction. "I am in complete agreement with that decision," he told her. "This is one subspace rupture that needs to stay closed, even if it takes us longer to return to Earth."

"In that case we're heading for home ladies and gentlemen, and we're going to do it the old fashioned way. Set a course for the Alpha Quadrant Mr. Paris, and engage at maximum warp when ready."

"Aye Captain," he acknowledged with a nod.

It was a disappointing end to an otherwise satisfactory mission, but by now Janeway and her crew were used to such disappointments. There was a galaxy full of alternatives in front of them and she was fully confident that sooner or later they would find something to help them.

But that would not be today.

Author's Note: Coming soon! The exciting, unbelievable, Earth-shattering conclusion to "Star Trek: Eternal Soul"!!!!! Don't miss it!