What Legacies You Leave Behind (Part 1)
- A Voyager bedtime story
by Lt 17 of 26 aka fROzen TaTTooGaL™ (MERSTS
Scant efforts of our lives and toil
Do nary remain in deed nor kind
But shall be remembered fore'er more
In what legacies we leave behind.
--June Yang, "What Legacies We Leave Behind"
The child curled up on her bed, unable to sleep. She tossed and turned restlessly in the cool night air to no avail. Finally she gave up, hoping that someone would come in to help her sleep. She felt so lonely. Her father used to tell her bedtime stories, but now h e was away a lot. She sighed.
A soft sound made her sit up, curious. A golden sparkle was appearing in the air. Slowly, a person began taking form in the sparkle. The child's eyes widened. It was so pretty, like an angel had come into her room. Finally the sparkles went away and an angel stood there. She was beautiful, tall with a halo of golden hair, and she wore a shimmering suit like the child always imagined that angels wore. She had no harp or ring around her head, but she wore strange makeup, which might be the modern equivalent of them.
"Are you an angel?" the child asked her.
She paused and regarded the child for a moment. "Yes," she said finally. "You may call me that."
The child smiled and curled up on the bed again. "I can't sleep. Will you tell me a bedtime story?"
The angel smiled softly and sadly as she settled down by the child's bedside. "Yes, if it pleases you. I will tell you a story about a ship who was lost, and the tale of her crew."
The child nodded, snuggling happily in the pillow. "Is it a happy story?"
The angel paused. "It could have been. But it is not."
The girl nodded dreamily. "Tell me."
"Once upon a time, there was a starship called the USS Voyager. She was lost and far away from home…"
The USS Voyager had been traveling for more than six years now. She had come far from her point of origin but she still had a long way to go to her final destination. During those six years, she had encountered many hardships, many difficulties along the way, but she'd always pulled through. Sometimes she won, other times she suffered losses. But she'd done half her journey this far, and she would, somehow, get through the rest of it.
The crew of the starship were a wonder in themselves. Some of them belonged to Starfleet, others were rebels, and then there were those who just came along for the ride. Over the years they'd learned to work together, despite their differences. It was a small community of people, just over a hundred, working together in one small ship, all alone in their sector of the universe. They were close-knit and dedicated to both their ship and each other.
Captain Kathryn Janeway was sitting in her quarters, sipping her usual cup of coffee. Kathryn was a remarkable woman. She'd bonded the crew, both Starfleet and rebels, during the first hard years. Her determination and passion towards the ship and the crew had inspired deep respect and loyalty amongst her crew. On some bad days, it seemed like she was the only one who could hold the ship together, standing on the bridge with firm eye and all the reins in her hand.
Her door chimed softly, and she put down the book she'd been reading. "Come," she said.
The door slid open and admitted Seven of Nine.
Seven was a distinct oddity on the crew of the Voyager. Once a member of the fearsome Borg, a half machine, half human group of creatures with a single hive mind, Seven had been unwillingly torn from the Collective and slowly integrated into the Voyager crew. The transition had not been an easy one and caused much grief on all sides. But it was partly because of Kathryn's stubbornness that she'd come thus far. It was, as Security Chief Tuvok would have said, illogical, but Seven sometimes that she owed everything she had to this extraordinary woman.
She put a padd down on Kathryn's table. "Captain, sensors in Astrometrics have detected an unusual energy reading from Sector four three three one."
Kathryn picked up the padd and scanned it. "Unusual energy readings?"
"Yes." Seven gave her a pointed glance. "They are consistent with the energy release of a Einstein-Rosenberg type wormhole formation."
That caught Kathryn's attention immediately. "A wormhole, opening mere light-years away from here?"
Seven nodded. "It would seem so."
"How big is it?"
"Estimation puts the diameter of the wormhole to be half an AU across."
Kathryn's eyebrows raised. Half an AU was a phenomenal size for a wormhole of any kind- big enough to swallow the whole of planet Earth. "Are you sure?"
"Quite certain, Captain."
"Well…" Kathryn could hardly keep her excitement down. Wormholes provided the opportunity for a instant route home. "A phenomenon of this scale should be worth investigating." She tapped her commbadge. "Janeway to bridge."
"Chakotay here," replied the deep, comforting voice of her exec officer. "Captain, I was just about to tell you, but sensors are picking up a number of wormholes opening up in sector 3-3-1…"
Kathryn stood, intrigued by the news. "More wormholes?" If they were making enough disruptions in the space-time fabric for even the ship's main sensors to pick up and alert them, there had to be several, at least.
"Unfortunately, yes."
"Unfortunately, Commander?" Kathryn thought it was strange. Wouldn't the mere prospect of the possibility of getting home be enough to put them in high spirits for days?
"The wormholes are appearing in formation, Captain." He paused. "If size and number were any indication, I'd be inclined to think that they were some sort of invasion force."
Kathryn and Seven exchanged a sharp glance. For all the years she'd known him, Chakotay was not someone who was easily ruffled, and if anything looked like an invasion force to him, it most likely was. "I'm on my way," said the captain, and she burst out of quarters, her book forgotten.
Three hours later, the Voyager was on course for sector three three one. Kathryn was in her ready room, conferring with Tuvok and Chakotay.
Tuvok was the Vulcan Chief of Security on the Voyager. He was an old friend of Kathryn's, having served with her since her first command on the USS Bonestell. Chakotay, on the other hand, was an ex-Starfleet officer who had defected to join the rebels years ago. The original mission of the Voyager had been to capture the ship he'd captained from the turbulent Badlands. That was, of course, until both ships had been unwillingly thrown into the Delta Quadrant, and through a series of incidents, Chakotay had wound up as first officer on the Voyager. Over the years, he'd served faithfully and loyally with Kathryn, and between the two men who now stood before her, there was no one on the ship whom Kathryn trusted more.
Tuvok was speaking at present. "Captain, I do not believe our current course of action is prudent to the situation." He frowned. The main problem with his captain, he knew, was that she could become too reckless when it came to matters of science. As security chief, however, he'd come to inherit that slight edge of paranoia that came with the job. Logic demanded it. One had to be perceptive in all situations to be able to predict any kind of outcome. It all followed the most cherished Vulcan philosophy, Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations.
Kathryn glanced askance at him. "'Not prudent', Tuvok?"
"Voyager is the only Federation starship in this Quadrant, Captain. If it is indeed an invasion force we are headed towards, it would not seem prudent for a ship of one to face what may perhaps, be thousands of vessels armed for hostility."
"Tuvok, you are working on the assumption that it is an invasion force we are looking at," said Kathryn.
"If it isn't an invasion force, we may be making one of the greatest discoveries in subspace physics since the Benjamin Sisko made contact with the Prophet entities in the Bajoran wormhole," said Chakotay.
"You suspect that some higher being may be responsible for the appearance of these phenomena," said Tuvok disapprovingly, reading between the lines. Perception and intuition were one thing, but imaginative flights of fancy were another completely. They were counterproductive, purposeless, and most illogical.
"I didn't say anything of that sort, Tuvok," rebutted Chakotay, but he looked amused. Tuvok found nothing funny about the situation, and he still found the human propensity for seeing humor in every possible situation disconcerting.
Before the debate could continue further, however, Ensign Kim's voice filtered over the intercom. "Captain, we will be dropping out of warp soon."
"Understood," replied the captain. She pushed her chair back and stood up. "Gentlemen?"
They exited the ready room together and stepped onto the bridge. Ensign Harry Kim relinquished the captain's seat. Harry was a young man, on his first assignment when Voyager left on her maiden mission-which, in a sense, it was still on. Although still green and so-called wet behind the ears when he joined the crew, he had, in the ensuing years, matured and grown seasoned to the hardships of space. He returned to his usual post at Ops.
Kathryn took the middle stage, scanning her bridge and its crew. Tuvok had taken his post at Tactical, Chakotay had returned to his seat by her left. Lieutenant Tom Paris was seated at the helm. Rescued from a Federation penal colony by Kathryn, Tom was recruited to guide the Voyager through the Badlands, and got more than he bargained for when the ship was stranded. He was a fine pilot, and he did his job with pride, even if his attitude and smart remarks were uncalled for at times. "Preparing to drop out of warp, Captain."
"Red alert," said Kathryn. With a dry look shot at Tuvok, she added, "It would be a … prudent course of action."
Tuvok nodded in approval, choosing to ignore her sarcasm.
The streams of light on the viewscreen coalesced into dots as the Voyager dropped out of warp. At Tuvok's recommendation, the Voyager exited into a dense cloud of plasma gas, enough to mask it from the outside world, but not enough to hide the world from its astrometrics and long-range sensors.
Immediately sensor readings began to flash red on consoles. "I'm picking up three… no… four…five… seven alien vessels!" Harry's voice climbed in alarm. "Their numbers keep increasing!"
"An invasion fleet?" asked Kathryn.
"Unknown. There are now fifteen vessels of unknown origin, headed on an intercept course," said Harry.
"Onscreen," said Kathryn crisply.
Immediately the picture on the screen was filled with huge ships on a staggering scale, probably big enough to dwarf a Romulan Warbird. Long and angular, they carried a certain sense of menace on their streamlined edges. Their configuration seemed somehow familiar.
"Seven, do you recognize any of those ships?" Kathryn asked.
Seven considered the ships on their viewscreen, and a name and number immediately leapt into her brain. The Borg had encountered this species before in the Gamma Quadrant. They were deadly and combative, but their ordered minds and genetic perfection were a great bonus to the Collective. She stiffened. "Yes, I do."
" They are Jem'Hadar ships."
The child frowned, unfamiliar with the terminology. "Who are all those people?" she asked. "Who are the Jem'Hadar? Or the Borg?"
The angel frowned, the expression marring her beautiful face. "The Jem'Hadar were a race of people belonging to the Dominion. They staged a war with the Alpha Quadrant and the Federation."
"And did they win?"
"No, they did not. The Federation, Klingons and Romulans won the war in the end."
"The Romulans? Aren't they bad people?" The child asked, puzzled..
"Not anymore."
"Who are the Borg?"
The angel looked disturbed. "The Borg are… a race of people who assimilate other species to achieve perfection. None of the Borg have volition of their own; they do the bidding of the Collective mind."
The child pondered the fact for a moment, then nodded. "Continue with the story."
Jem'Hadar… The word sent sparks of alarm shooting through Chakotay's mind. The memory of the letters from the Alpha Quadrant stood starkly in his memory- the Jem'Hadar, pawns of the Dominion, which effectively did in several months what the Federation failed to do to the Maquis in years- wipe them out. He drew in a sharp breath. He didn't know much about these alien vessels, but he remembered that they were equipped with some sort of deadly and unstoppable technology.
"The Jem'Hadar…" Kathryn frowned. "The Dominion?"
"Precisely," replied Chakotay. "Can you remember anything about them from the files Starfleet sent us?"
Kathryn paced the bridge, a sure sign that she wasn't at ease with the situation. "As I recall, each ship is heavily armed, and more than a match for even the biggest flagships of the Federation."
"And here we are, with fifteen of them out there against one small Intrepid class starship." Tom looked distinctly uncomfortable. "I'd say judging by looks alone that our prognosis isn't good."
"Each ship is armed with a polaron beam disruptor," Tuvok said crisply. "It's effects are quite… devastating."
Kathryn paused and turned. "Tuvok, can you detect if the ships are powering weapons?"
Tuvok worked his console for a moment, and shook his head almost imperceptibly. "Unknown, Captain. Until more tactical data is downloaded into the ship's computer, I am afraid that the charging of the polaron beams with remain undetectable by our sensors."
Kathryn resumed her pacing. "If I am not mistaken, Starfleet won the war against the Dominion, causing them to retreat back to the Gamma Quadrant. What we may be seeing is merely a fragment of their armada." She turned to face Harry. "Ensign, what's the time to intercept?"
"Seven minutes, forty-two seconds," he reported crisply.
Chakotay glanced at Kathryn in concern. "We have no knowing whether these ships will be hostile. For all we know, they may just be derelict ships restored by some passer-bys for their own uses."
Kathryn stared at the viewscreen. She stood in her usual relaxed stance, but he could tell by the tension in her shoulders how worried she was. He couldn't blame her. Kathryn might have an iron will and the heart of a lion, but her first concern was the well being of her ship and crew. As long as her ship was safe, she couldn't care less what happened to herself; she was that dedicated. And right now they were precariously perched on the edge of jeopardy.
"We need to find out if they're hostile without risking contact…" she muttered, and he could tell that she was thinking hard to find a solution out of the situation. "Tuvok, could we prepare a probe, something which has clear Federation markings but won't leave an ion trail which may lead back to us?"
"Bait for the Jem'Hadar?" Chakotay prompted.
"Exactly." She flashed him a rare smile in a situation so tense. "If they decimate it on sight, it'd be a signal for us to start rethinking our approach."
"Or rather, turn and run as fast as possible," muttered Tom from the helm.
"I have prepared the probe," Tuvok informed her. She gave a barely perceptible nod. "I am deploying the probe now."
On the viewscreen, the slender gray probe shot away from Voyager and traced an arcing path towards the hulking warships. Chakotay held his breath as he watched the activity of the ships carefully. Would they? Wouldn't they?
A fiery orange blossom near the ships answered his question.
"We have lost all contact with the probe," Tuvok reported needlessly.
"Now what?" asked Tom.
"Captain." Harry's voice was tense, flighty. "The Jem'Hadar are scanning us."
Kathryn stiffened. "Mr. Paris, get us out of her-"
She had barely gotten through her sentence when the ship pitched violently at a 45-degree angle, throwing everyone backwards. Chakotay was slammed sideways, hard, on the chair's armrest, knocking the wind out of him. Behind him, Harry yelled as the console next to him erupted in a conflagration, spewing thick bilious smoke everywhere. In horror, Chakotay watched as Kathryn flew across the bridge, connected with the railing separating Tactical from the viewer, and crumpled to the floor, motionless. Despite the pain in his chest, Chakotay struggled to his feet. "Damage report!"
"Shields down to fifteen percent," Tuvok said ominously. "There are power outages on decks four, six, nine to twelve inclusive-"
An urgent chirp from Engineering interrupted Tuvok's litany of ills. "Captain! The containment field has sustained heavy damage in the attack. I'm going to have to shut down warp drive or risk a core breach!" exclaimed the voice of Chief Engineer B'Elanna Torres.
Chakotay's lips tightened. The last thing he wanted to do was to be left without a fast way out in this situation, but they had no choice. "Do it, Lieutenant."
"Commander?" B'Elanna was perturbed. "Where's the captain? What the heck just happened?"
"The Jem'Hadar apparently fired two polaron beams at our deflector dish and initiated a feedback loop overload," said Tuvok. "It is unlikely that the ship will be able to withstand another attack."
"Commander," said Seven tautly from her station, "we may prevent the recurrence of the attack by shutting down our deflector dish."
Chakotay nodded. "Do it, Seven."
"Commander, we are being hailed by the lead ship." Harry reported.
"Put them on."
The bridge of the Jem'Hadar ship appeared onscreen. It's appearance shocked Chakotay a little, who always imagined it to resemble Cardassian architecture with its brutal angular edges and darkling metal. A man with ornately ridged ears and purple eyes occupied what presumably was the commander post of the bridge. A Jem'Hadar? wondered Chakotay.
"A Vorta," Seven muttered.
Vorta… Jem'Hadar… this is a ballgame of a different kind, Chakotay realized with a chilling at the pit of his stomach. "This is Commander Chakotay of the Starship Voyager," he began. "We mean your ships no harm-"
"Federation starship," said the Vorta ingratiatingly, " I am Weyoun. And you will be destroyed."
"We are alone in this quadrant. We're only trying to get home, and we mean you no harm."
"You are weak." A different, deeper voice cut into their conversation. Chakotay saw a second figure in the shadows, behind the Vorta. Now is that a Jem'Hadar? wondered Chakotay. "You will be destroyed," he said, reiterating the Vorta's point. The transmission cut.
"The Jem'Hadar ships are firing!" exclaimed Harry.
"Mr. Paris, get us out of here, full impulse!" Chakotay commanded.
Tom didn't need to be told a third time. The Voyager spun a hundred and eighty degrees as fast as it could and limped away at full impulse, hopefully able to hide in the treacherous clouds of plasma gas better than their pursuers.
"Kathryn." Chakotay bent over his fallen captain. She was unconscious but still alive, breathing shallowly. There was a deep gash on the back of her head which bled fairly profusely. Seven was by his side in an instant, scanning her with her built-in technology.
"Several lacerations and a minor concussion," she diagnosed. "She'll be fine."
Chakotay gently cradled her head in his arms. How many times must I tell her to brace herself in an emergency? he thought. This isn't the first time, but I hope it'll be the last. "B'Elanna," he said heavily, addressing the chief engineer, "how long will it take for the warp drive to be repaired?"
"At least seven hours," she predicted glumly over the intercom. "And only if we put all the other unrelated repair jobs on the back burner."
Chakotay glanced at Tuvok. "What are the odds of us being able to outrun the Jem'Hadar for that long?"
"A slim chance, at most," replied Tuvok, confirming his greatest fears.
Chakotay glanced down at the senseless form in his arms and gripped her more tightly. "Then we need to find a way out, fast."
Weyoun was certain the Founder was not pleased. Not pleased at all. How could he have let that damnable Federation ship slip out of his grasp like that? It was one trait of these Starfleeters that troubled him greatly: their tenacity and their dexterity. But in the end they were no match for the power of the Dominion. They should not have been, if not for those untrustworthy Cardassians.
He bowed obsequiously to the Founder before him. The shapeshifter was seated at his desk, and glanced at him with barely disguised disdain. "You have failed."
Weyoun tried hard to conceal his dismay at being chastised so. He had great respect for this Founder- in fact, he had more than great respect for any Founder, but this one, in particular, deserved it more. He was one of the few who'd escaped the debilitating effects of the disease that had plagued the Changelings, and subsequently avoided the unholy influences of the fake Founder, the one who'd worked in league with the enemy. The glory of the Great Link was falling apart, tainted by the thoughts of this sacrilegious renegade. The Founder before him was one of the few left who still believed and worked for the old aims of the Great Link. As was Weyoun, faithful servant to the last, several times over.
"I am sorry. The resourcefulness of this particular ship was… unexpected." It was a weak excuse, he knew, but it was also the truth. Perhaps too many months away from battle had softened him. "I will do better the next time. I will not fail."
The Founder nodded in approval. "See to it that you don't." He tapped a few controls on his screen and called up the diagram of their attack plan on the Delta Quadrant. "I will not allow months of work to be thwarted by this paltry ship. They are nothing compared to the spoils which await us."
"Yes." Weyoun bowed in reverence.
The Founder clenched his fist. "Once our goal is secured, our might will be unstoppable- in the Alpha Quadrant or any other. Our former glory will be restored. Our domination will be complete."
Weyoun said nothing, awed by the magnitude of the proceedings around him.
The Founder glanced at him. "Now you see the importance of capturing that Federation ship. It has everything we want."
"Yes, Founder."
"You are dismissed. Go." He waved his hand at Weyoun. Weyoun backed away, scraping and bowing, humbled by the greatness in his presence. The Founders would be obeyed. They would not fail. They were gods.
The child blinked and snuggled sleepily in her blankets. "It's a very nice story." She smiled up at the angels. "I like the way you named all the characters."
The angel smoothed the child's long copper-toned locks. "That will be enough for today," she said. "It is a long story."
"Will you come back tomorrow and tell me more?"
"Of course."
The child smiled blissfully and drifted off to sleep, as the beautiful golden shimmering claimed the earth angel once again.