Season 1 - Episode 11: Prime Factors
July 2, 2371 (3 Months, 17 Days in the Delta Quadrant)
July 6, 2371 (3 Months, 21 Days in the Delta Quadrant)

Chakotay smiled at the sight of Voyager's mess hall from his corner of the room, where he sat with his Captain. It was more packed in here than usual this time of day, most of the crew joining together to eat instead of grabbing something on the go before heading to a rec room or quarters as they had when they'd first arrived, but it was becoming a more common sight. It was something he had been hoping to see.

The Starfleet and Maquis crew had a difficult time at first. Maquis were used to doing what needed to be done, without time wasted on procedures and asking for permission. On the other hand, Starfleet were set in routines that maximized standardization, proper procedures, and keeping everyone accountable. A Maquis would see a burned out regulator, and just replace it. Starfleet would send the request to repair on to the person whose job it was to take care of it, and they would make sure no one got hurt in the process while keeping records of the damage, the part used, and everything else.

It was the difference between working with who, and what, you had on hand, and working with specialized people and steady supply lines.

Over the months, the instances of conflict between the two groups had taken a dive. He'd hoped it would, but it was happening far faster than he had been expecting. Truth be told, he'd expected things to get worse before they got better, with the two crews going after each other's throats, but he sure wasn't going to complain about everyone getting along so well. Misery did love company, and shared experiences bring people together. It was what made the Maquis a family, in many ways, and while his people were learning the ways of Starfleet, the Starfleet crew weren't exactly unaffected either.

He looked over at B'Elanna, and smiled at the gruff engineer sitting at a table with Ensign Roberta Luke and Kes. Never in all his time knowing the young woman did he see anything that would lead him to expect to see her willingly sit down and make friends with someone from Starfleet, never mind the two women who worked in sickbay. Her desire to avoid anything that had to do with doctors was legendary among his crew, after all.

Chakotay paused at that thought, and how, on some level, he still thought of the Maquis as 'his crew'. He talked about unity and togetherness, and here he was thinking about them as two seperate groups, not as the whole they were quickly becoming, as he could see in front of them. They weren't exactly being quiet about their conversation either, not that he was all that far away from them.

Torres was focused on her meal, only occasionally inputting something while the other two women talked back and forth. That quickly changed when Kes smiled widely and declared, "B'Elanna, I've noticed that you've stopped looking at the other males on board."

The half-klingon nearly choked on her food, taking a fast drink of water to clear her throat and cough out what was needed. Luke pat her back, trying to help as she tried not to smile, before admonishing the Ocampa girl while softly laughing, "You really shouldn't just spring something like that on someone. Especially in a mess hall full of people."

"Why?" the young girl asked, so innocently it almost made you miss the knowing gleam in her eye.

"You know why," Luke declared, still laughing.

Torres, finally breathing normally, lashed out verbally, as was her nature,, "What the hell was that supposed to be?"

Kes smiled serenely, "Girl talk. I was told that is how you make friends."

"I do not want to talk about my love life in the mess hall!" Torres declared, firmly.

Luke, smiling like a predator, pounced, "So you admit you have a love life? You should come by my quarters later and dish. I'll even replicate some popcorn and chocolates for the occasion." Turning to the younger girl while B'Elanna groaned, she added, "That is the proper time and place for girl talk. And sweets are a must."

Smiling with amusement, Kes inquired, "Is it the same for guy talk?"

Torres dropped her face into her hands, trying to ignore the two of them, while Luke replied with, "Yes, although the specifics are different. Guys care less about the location and who can hear, but alcoholic beverages are preferred."

Turning in her chair, Kes spoke to the table behind them, "Hello Tom, Harry, Tabor. I heard a rumor about Mr. Kim having a date with the Delaney sisters and was wondering if it was true."

Torres lifted her head to listen in, smiling slightly as the attention was taken off her. Kes was smiling at Harry like she was a cat, while the young Ensign paled slightly and tried to wave it off with a stammering, "I-I d-don't know what y-you are talking about." Luke and Tom were glancing between Kes and Harry like it was a tennis tournament, amusement clear on their faces.

"Really?" Ensign Tabor, a young Bajoran who served on the Val Jean, and was quickly becoming a friend to Mr. Paris, pressed. "I could have sworn that I heard a rumor you took both sisters out on a date at the same time."

"What?" Kim exclaimed, eyes wide with rapidly growing fear.

B'Elanna egged him on, "Give it up, Starfleet! You can't keep secrets on a ship this small."

"What have you been telling people?" Harry sent an accusing glare at Tom, his fear turning to thinly veiled annoyance.

Setting his cutlery down, Tom explained patiently, "I've just been telling them that you had a wonderful trip to Venice with them."

"The holodeck?" Harry asked, incredulous. "You've got to be kidding me. That lasted all of fifteen minutes!"

Paris nodded, "You... I've been meaning to ask about that. What happened when you and Jenny Delaney disappeared in that gondola?"

"Nothing." Harry declared, obstinate.

Kes reached out a hand, placing it atop Kim's as she leaned over, and declaring, "It's okay. We are all your friends here."

Harry, bending like grass under a prairie wind, slumped in his seat and answered, "Nothing really. We just talked, and then I fell off the boat."

Tabor observed with a smile, "I don't think Mr. Kim was prepared for how forceful Jenny can be."

Good natured laughter rose from the two tables, and after a moment Harry joined in. From where he sat, Chakotay felt like joining them. It was a good story, something Mr. Kim would remember for a long time, and the sight of the two crews enjoying the others company was one that would stay with him just as long.

Across from him, Kathryn smiled and relaxed into her chair before whispering conspiratorially, "I think it's finally beginning to happen. Both crews getting along."

"From the sound of things," he countered, "it has been happening for a little while now. We just happened to notice it."

"Well, lets not jinx it and say anything." she smiled at him. "We wouldn't want all that progress undone."

"I like to think that seeing us helps," Chakotay added, leaning forward over the table while offering an easy, boyish smile. He liked the Captain, even if she could be a little too implacable. She was Starfleet all the way, and while he'd quit, there were reasons why he'd joined. "After all, we are setting a good example for them."

The comm badge chirped once, cutting off whatever Kathryn was about to say before Tuvok's calm voice filtered out, "Bridge to Captain Janeway."

"Go ahead."

"Captain, we are receiving a distress call."

"I'm on my way," Janeway declared, wiping her mouth with a napkin and standing up. He stood as well, as was required of both etiquette and good manners. "Looks like we will have to cut our lunch short."

"I might as well follow you on up. Might be important," He added, moving to the side and holding out an arm in an invitation for her to lead on.

Kim and Tom stood as well, having obviously heard what was happening and moving to leave the mess hall and take their stations. Together, the four of them entered the turbolift.

Janeway started calling out, "Report, Mr. Tuvok," as soon as her foot hit the floor of the Bridge.

"We are receiving a distress signal from a vessel bearing one-two-five mark two-three. Distance three hundred thousand kilometers," The Vulcan answered succinctly.

"Captain," Kim added, "sensors show five lifeforms aboard."

Tuvok stilled for a moment, and added, "Vessel is altering course and moving to intercept."

Chakotay could almost see Kathryn's eye twitch before she ordered, "Yellow alert. Slow to quarter impulse. Hail them, Mr. Kim."

The First Officer was nearly surprised when the people on the ship instantly responded, the viewscreen coming to life as a person who looked nearly human filled it. He was smiling and his body language seemed benign, but those could be faked and were out of place for someone with an active distress signal. If she hadn't already ordered it, Chakotay would've sent the command to subtly set the crew to yellow alert.

"I'm Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation Starship Voyager. What is the nature of your emergency?" the woman next to him declared.

The man on the viewscreen just smiled back at them all, answering smugly, "We have no emergency."

Confused, the Captain pointed out, "But you're sending out a distress call."

"Yes, we are." the man replied, clearly amused.

"Why?"

"Because you are in distress," was his answer, seeming, for all appearances, like he was about to laugh the words out. "I am Magistrate Gathhorel Labin of the planet Sikaris. Please, let us welcome you to our system and show you the hospitality of our people."

"That's very kind of you." Kathryn replied cautiously, though Chakotay could tell she was amused as well.

The man on the screen waved the compliment away and instead asked, "If I may come aboard your ship? I have gifts for you and a proposal I hope you will find irresistable."

Pausing for only a second to think, Kathryn turned to Tuvok and ordered, "Make the necessary arrangements to receive our guest."

With a polite nod, the Magistrate cut the connection, the screen returning to a standard view of the space forward of the ship. The Captain remarked dryly to the Bridge, "Now that is a First Contact I could get used to. Chakotay, care to join me as we receive our guest?"

"I would be happy to." he answered, following her to the turbolift once more.

A quick ride down to Deck 4, and the two of them made the short walk to Transporter Room One. Chakotay smiled a little in good humor, seeing a pair of Shepard's security officers standing on either side of the room's entrance. He recognized the two as Gonzalez and Yaso, both formally of the Val Jean and today playing the roll of Honor Guard, it seemed. They were both heavily armed, a sight he was becoming more and more comfortable with as their time in the Delta Quadrant turned into one dangerous encounter after another.

Hopefully this time would be different.

Inside the transporter room, Janeway came to such a sudden stop that Chakotay nearly walked into her. Looking around her to see what the cause might be, he could only shake his head at the sight of Shepard standing just behind and to the left of the Transporter Chief. Like his guards, he was armed and standing at parade rest.

"Mr. Shepard, what brings you here?" Kathryn bit out, trying and failing to hide her annoyance.

Chakotay didn't really understand what the issue between these two was. He'd seen the same personnel file as Janeway had, and, once he got over his injured pride at being betrayed by the woman he'd started to love, just saw another Intelligence Operative who did what he was ordered. He might not like those things, but as a First Officer he knew well that sometimes you had to do what you were ordered, not what you wanted. It's why he'd quit, but he denied any accusation that he'd turned traitor. The fact Shepard spent so much time with Torres might not sit well with him, but Chakotay could learn to deal with it. There was far more to worry about then who one of his old subordinates spent her off time with.

The issue he had wasn't so much that understanding why Shepard and the Captain didn't get along, though that was a mystery, but how their relationship shifted back and forth between clear, mutual hatred to such ambivalence that the other might as well not exist. Perhaps the two were so alike that they couldn't both be on the same ship, and the rest of the crew was caught between them. It was ironic that the friction he'd expected between Starfleet and Maquis existed, not between those two enemy groups, but between the Captain and the Starfleet black ops agent. Still, he'd thought things had been getting better between the two recently.

Shepard nodded at the Captain and First Officer, answering neutrally, face blank, "Following protocol, ma'am. Greeting a visitor to the ship."

The Captain looked at him a few moments longer, as if trying to find a weakness. Not responding, she stepped further into the room and turned to face the transporter pad. The young woman at the controls declared, "Coordinates received, and transport locked. We are cleared to receive."

Kathryn ordered, "Energize."

A few moments later, the man they saw on the screen, Magistrate Labin, appeared out of a coruscating shower of lights. The man was tall and thin, wirey, with sharp eyes that almost seemed to sparkle with hidden mirth. In his hand was something that closely resembled a wicker basket, and from the pull looked to be heavily laden.

"Ah, Captain. So good to finally meet you face to face," the man greeted, as if they were old friends.

Janeway smiled warmly, replying, "Nice to meet you as well. Welcome aboard Voyager, Mr. Labin." With a gesture she motioned around the room, adding, "This is my First Officer, Commander Chakotay, and our Chief of Security, Commander Shepard."

The man bowed slightly, replying, "Please, call me Gath. I am not one for honorifics or formality. Now, first things first, I have need of a kitchen. There are many samples of our cuisine I would enjoy having you try."

It was a short walk back to the turbolift, and an even shorter trip up to the mess hall. The whole way Gath chatted happily back and forth with the Captain, making small talk. Chakotay got a few words in here or there, mostly small things about how long their people have had warp drive (a dozen centuries) or about how much of the quadrant his people had explored (not as much as others).

Entering the mess hall, Chakotay noted with approval how it had cleared out after the yellow alert was issued not so long ago. Even with the alert being cancelled, most people would be back on duty and sticking close to their stations while an unknown alien vessel was nearby. Neelix and Kes could be seen in the kitchen, hard at work preparing something that actually smelled pretty good, for once.

"Ah, perfect," Gath commented, seeing the long standing bar and moving to set his basket atop it. "I promise, these newest delicacies are sure to please you."

Neelix stepped out of the kitchen to investigate the noise, prompting, "Captain, I'm serving dinner in less than two hours."

Kathryn smiled at the Talaxian complaint, answering, "Don't mind us, we shouldn't be long. This is Gath, from Sikaris. Gath, this is Neelix."

As the tall man reached into his container, Neelix gasped reverently as his gaze locked onto the Magistrate, "Oh, Sikaris!"

Turning to face him, Chakotay asked, "You've heard of the planet?"

"Only stories of their incredible hospitality!" the Talaxian eagerly explained.

With his status affirmed by their local guide, Janeway turned back to the smiling Sikarian, "Tell me, how do you know about us?"

The man looked amused by the question, though the First Officer was starting to wonder if that was his default expression. "Our people are very well traveled. Some of them have brought back stories about the ship of aliens from the other side of the galaxy. Lost and alone, struggling to find their way home again." After a moment he added, "As well as the stories of hardship that accompany you."

"Hardship?" Chakotay echoed.

Gath smiled a little wider, explaining, "Our people brought back stories of an encounter between the Baneans and Voyager. Perhaps you would be willing to share how your people managed to avoid being subjected to their uniquely unpleasant form of punishment?"

Kathryn glanced over at Shepard, where he stood just off to the side, frowning for a moment, "Perhaps that would be a story best saved for later."

"Oh course. Please try the food!" Gath waved his hands at the spread, inviting everyone to partake.

Everyone but Shepard did so, Chakotay noticed. Even Kes stepped out of the kitchen and joined in the sampling. There was a unanimous agreement of moans as the various bite sized dishes were enjoyed. Gath continued to explain, "After hearing the tales, I decided to come and meet you all and offer you respite."

"What do you mean?" Chakotay inquired. While Janeway was playing the naive believer, it fell to him to play the cautious questioner, since Tuvok was still on the Bridge. As old as it was, good cop, bad cop was universally useful.

"A vacation, of course," the man revealed, like it was the most obvious thing in the universe. "Get away from the confines of the ship, enjoy the beauty of our landscape, meet and talk with interesting people."

Kes offered before Chakotay could ask the price of their generosity, "The crew would welcome some shore leave, Captain. Especially since the previous one was canceled before it could begin."

Neelix added, "I hear the Sikarians have a variety of edible plants. We could collect some and their seeds, and expand out selection greatly."

Janeway didn't look like she tried to think very hard about it before declaring, "Seems like you'll be getting some visitors. We'll set course and follow you in."

The tall man smiled wide, "I could not be happier!"

==/\==

Bell marveled at the sights and sounds that surrounded him on the surface of Sikaris.

It was a city set with smooth walls of polished granite that rippled in a variety of colors that changed to another almost as soon as you grew used to them. Copper chimneys and silver vents produced a thin smoke, out of which interminable serpents of pink smoke trailed themselves to and fro without ever uncoiling or moving far from their source. Scans showed that the only thing the smoke did was scent the air with everything from smoked wood to various incenses.

There was a canal network of black stone throughout it, from above giving the city a circuit board-like appearance as various buildings played the role of resistors, capacitors, transistors, and so on. The river that pushed through the stone was purple with mildly sweet-smelling water gently flowing, while people walked monotonously up and down its banks in such a lazy haze they might as well have been in a trance.

The Sikarians all seemed to show the same sort of distracted, not-quite-there air. If it wasn't how they seemed to come alive when Bell talked to them, and had the Captain not cleared it, Bell would've worried there was something in the environment that was making them that way, memories of the dangers of 'seemingly safe biomes' seminar he'd had to sit through in the back of his head.

When Magistrate Labin, or Gath as he told absolutely everyone he preferred to be called, invited Voyager to this world and its crew into the city, he hadn't mentioned that this was only one of a handful of cities left on this world. Or that the city he was taking them to was his personal municipal district. That was something Bell, Felix, and Jackson learned once they were allowed down and was able to speak with the locals.

The restaurant the three men had wandered into sat near a junction of three canals that had to be crossed to get inside, but it had a large crowd Sikarians wandering in and out which just screamed 'great food' to the three men. It was all open to the air, no walls or ceilings, just a well polished wood floor and a couple dozen umbrella covered tables that surrounded a kitchen like someone tried to throw together the concept of street-food and restaurant which resulted in this odd union.

When they had sat down, Felix had turned to the table behind them to three ladies who were just sitting down to eat as well and used some of that Romulan impulsiveness he tried to cultivate to ask about the risk of weather ruining this place. Their answer of "Why would it when they are exempt?" confused the hell out of the three men, but it eventually led to the present situation of both groups sharing a table and exchanging information.

Bell looked down at his plate of food, smiling at the memory of a delicious meal he'd just enjoyed. It'd been a small dish, finger food, but it had packed so much flavor inside it had felt like his tongue would explode with each bite. He used the omni-tool to take pictures of it, and, after asking permission, scanned it with the medical tricorder. It wouldn't let him replicate it, but it would let him recreate it, and he made a note of the ingredients in the hopes of having Neelix recreate it eventually.

"So, let's get this straight," Jackson began, his voice gaining the slightly thicker Central American accent he got when confused or excited about something. "All the weather on this planet is controlled? To the point that an entire continent could have a rain cloud over it, and every single square meter of the surface could still remain dry?"

"Yes," the first girl, Tannaz, nodded. She and the other two girls were all apparently apprentices to a local art guild, and took a day to enjoy the city when they learned there were guests in orbit. "Does your world not believe in climate control?"

The three men glanced at each other, before Felix answered, "It varies from world to world. Some planets in the Federation, like Risa, would be almost uninhabitable without weather control facilities. A few others use it only to a moderate degree, to ensure plant harvests are bountiful or to prevent forest fires."

Bell added, "Or to stabilize the existing climate after a major disruption."

Asal, the middle girl and youngest of the three, leaned in, "How odd. I would think such control of your environments would be eagerly sought. It rains upon this city at midnight, every three days. The time was chosen centuries ago and has never changed, because it was convenient and didn't ruin anyone's day. There are currently twelve locations throughout the city who are on the exemption list to not receive any ran because it would be inconvenient."

Roya, Asal's sister and oldest of the three, sniffed, commenting, "I cannot imagine what it would be like to live in such an unpredictable environment. Most displeasing."

Asal poked her sister in the ribs, "You just lack any sense of adventure. I can't wait to finish my apprenticeship so I can be selected to join one of the Seeker ships. They always go to such interesting places."

"Excuse them," Tannaz smiled, waving her hand in a carefree manner. "This is a common argument. I'd love to hear more about those worlds you mentioned. What is Risa like?"

Felix smiled back at her, "It's a pleasure planet, the entire place one large resort. Nothing on this place, though. And that's not a problem. I imagine the one true universal constant would be arguing siblings."

A round of chuckles sweep the table. They each enjoyed another bite of food, before Bell asked, "I noticed on the way down that the planet has an unusually low population. Why is that?"

"How so?" Asal asked, pausing with what looked like a sushi kabob midway to her mouth. "Is that different from your planets?.

"Well," he explained, "We picked up only a half billion people here. That's unusual for any advanced civilization I have heard of. Especially so for a homeworld. Earth has over seven billion."

Tannaz hummed for a moment, then answered, "How many of those peoples you have heard of have had the ability to travel between stars as long as we have? We gained warp travel a few thousand years ago, and since then our people have been Seekers. We colonized a handful of worlds far from here, with most of our people willingly leaving to write their own tales. Others left to live among the younger races in our region to learn their stories. As we advanced, the need for having so many people in one place waned. As I'm sure it has and will for your own people as well."

That gave the three men something to think about. At their collective downcast look, Tannaz quickly added, "It was not a fast thing, and it may not happen to your own people at all. Take heart and find pleasure in the moment without dwelling on what may or may not come to be. Now, you were telling us about what happened when you stopped at an asteroid, and came under attack?"

The meal quickly concluded from there, Bell recounting the tale of their brush with the Vidiians, and the three girls offered to show the men around and lead them on a tour of the city. They quickly agreed.

More of the planet's history was laid bare before them as they walked and talked. While Gath was a Magistrate, he was one of many who formed the Sikaris Canon, a dietary body housed in the capital of L'hur. Each Magistrate was effectively a mayor of a city, but it was much more complicated than that. The Sikaris didn't believe in wealth creation or monetary collection, and instead hyper-focused on pleasure and anything that could provide pleasure to others. The greatest source being stories, which put a little bit of a different spin on the girl's polite but repeated requests to hear about the three men's lives. Sharing a look with the other two crewmen, Bell shrugged. They were eating good food and getting a tour, so he didn't mind paying the girls back.

As they walked through a market of white sand walls and singing birds, with various merchants peddling assorted wears, Roya asked, "Can we not come to Gath's market? We've seen all he has already."

"But they haven't," Asal answered, waving at the three men. "We promised to show them everything."

Bell offered, "We don't have to come here if you don't want to, your company has been more than enough. Although I'm curious about why you want to avoid this place."

Sighing, Roya explained, "This is the Magistrate's personal market. Most aliens who visit this world go to L'hor, but because he found you first he is receiving a lot more visitors here than normal. People on the other side of this world, and our colonies, will be here just to see you. It'll be crowded, and busy, and no place to relax."

"Which will make Gath more popular in the Canon." Tannaz adds. "Which means more Seekers will seek his patronage, which means when they return with new pleasures his standing will rise more."

Jackson summed up the feeling well, "Mierda. Politics."

"Well said," Bell absently said, eyes scanning the small crowd. From what his eyes could see, the girls had been right. The small market with almost full to bursting with people, far more than it could have been built to handle. He could see other members of Voyager here and there, talking with native guides, recounting different stories while others stood nearby, listening in.

The crowd thinned a bit, and suddenly the Ensign could see his captain walking side by side with Magistrate Gath. They were almost hand in hand, smiles wide across their faces. As they moved a little closer, Bell watched them pause at a fabric vender close to him, with the Captain commenting how lovely each bolt was.

Gath moved to offer to make the Captain a dress, and when she refused it he countered with how curious humans are that they would refuse a freely given gift. When he pointed out that an entire wardrobe of the finest material could be created for her and it would bring those who did such great pleasure, Janeway finally relented a little and accepted a scarf.

The man was laying it on thick, to Bell's eyes. It was obvious he was romantically interested in the Captain, and that she might be willing to accept, but he was pushing too hard and turning her away. Bell didn't know the Captain that well, but she reminded him of his aunt, in some ways. If he was right, and this Gath was used to getting his way, it wouldn't be long before the situation blew up in their faces. That would then have severe blowback on the crew, which meant he should be ready to leave quickly if necessary, which was a pity, as he'd been having a great time with the three girls.

With that thought, Bell groaned and mentally swore at the spectre of Shepard in the back of his mind. The man had been including basic psychology as part of training, claiming it would help them better anticipate people's motives and actions, and able to see security issues before they became security issues. Bell just didn't expect it to work.

Asal tugged on his hand, getting Bell's attention. When his eyes made contact with hers, she smiled, "Come. My sister and best friend are going to show you Alastria. It is a marvelous place, and far away from all this chaos."

"Where is, Alastria?" Bell asked, smiling back at the girls infectious laugh in response.

"Oh, it is far, far, far away from here," she cryptically answered. "We'll show you."

I leaned back into the conference room chair, relishing in the comfort. A few well placed words to the right ears, as well as trading of replicator rations I didn't need, had gotten a few crewmen in here a couple of days ago to refurbish the furniture. A little more padding in the right places, a hair more height to the backs, and those horrifically uncomfortable chairs were turned into comfortable thrones.

Why was ergonomics a four letter word in the Federation?

The senior staff had been pulled in here a few minutes ago by a frustrated and annoyed Janeway, without warning or explanation. I supposed that when you were the Captain that was your prerogative to drag everyone away at a moment's notice, but it was still annoying. Or at least it would've been if I hadn't already suspected what this was all about. So rather than annoying, I was just going to call it what it was: rude.

As we all took our usual positions around the table, Janeway turned to the only Ensign in the room and ordered, "Mr. Kim, please tell everyone what you told me about an hour ago."

"Ma'am," the young man said, frowned a moment to ostensibly organize his thoughts, and pressed on, "The Sikarians have a way for us to get home. Or at the very least, cut the journey time in half."

At everyone's incredulous look he explained, "While on the surface I was led to a transportation platform. Extremely sophisticated. It operates on the principle of folding space, rather than passing through it."

"Intriguing," Tuvok commented, master of the understatement.

Kim continued, "One second I was spending an evening on Sikaris. The next, I was watching dawn on Alastria. Alastria is forty-thousand light years away."

Torres leaned forward on the table, skeptical about what she was hearing, "That has got to be impossible. Instantaneous teleportation from one quadrant of the galaxy to another?"

The Ensign shook his head, explaining, "They call it a spatial trajector, and it is used to link Sikaris and their various worlds together. Like the center of a massive web. Apparently they have been using this technology for a very long time, and is as easy for them to use as we would open a door or turn on the lights of a room."

Chakotay fixed the young man with a stare, asking, "So what's the catch?"

Janeway answered for him, "The catch is they won't share it with us."

Kim stared down at the table, angrily biting out, "I can't believe they won't help us. Some kind of hospitality."

B'Elanna leaned back into her chair, staring at the ceiling as she cooly mumbled, "Forty thousand light years. Even if that's as far as it could take us, it would still knock four decades off the trip."

Chakotay latched onto her words, adding, "And there is still the possibility that we could use it again and knock off the remaining thirty thousand. Show up right in the middle of Federation space."

Tuvok simply observed, "Since they have already said no, this kind of thinking is only going to lead to all involved feeling worse for no reason."

Janeway stood as they talked, letting the conversation roll over her. I could almost see the wheels turning, as she moved back to the window and stared out towards the planet. In truth, this was one of those rare moments that I believed she made the right decision. The laws of the Sikarians said no, they were a peaceful race that had only helped Voyager, so the answer was no. It was the same situation the Federation has faced many times over, when an alien we helped would show up asking for a replicator or a holodeck and we had to turn them away because our laws demanded it of us, even when it would have made their lives easier. The fact that, when presented with such a dilemma in a few years, Janeway folded like wet cardboard, was one of a host of reasons why I still wasn't comfortable around her.

It would be her crew, her friends, that would let her down the most here. They only saw a treasure worth having, and were placing it against their desire to get home regardless of the consequences. Doing whatever it took to succeed is commendable, and if I didn't already know that the technology used by the Sikarians isn't compatible with our own I might even be leading the charge. However, I did know, and that offered me a bit of perspective, but I couldn't blame the others for trying.

The captain broke into the argument that was brewing between Kim and Tuvok, silencing everyone as she declared, "It's the first time we've been on this side of the fence."

"Captain?" Paris asked.

She turned back to us, taking a moment to pose before explaining, "The fence that binds our principles. We have our own set of rules, just as they do. How many times have we been in the position of refusing to interfere when some kind of disaster threatened an alien world or culture. It's fine to say we do it on the basis of an enlightened ideal, to hold our Prime Directive before us like a shield, but how does that feel to those we turn away? I'm sure many of them feel just like we do right now."

Paris retorted, "Or worse. I think it stings more because it's so similar to what we would do."

"I know of many times when Starfleet personnel ignored the Prime Directive on strong ethical grounds," Chakotay solemnly added. "Many of those same men and women joined the Maquis."

"On the whole, it does a lot more good than harm though," Kim argued despite how much he obviously wanted it not to be true, dejected and staring at the table.

After a brief lull of heavy silence, Tuvok mentioned, "We know very little about the Sikarians, Captain. Perhaps their first refusal is simply a prelude to negotiations."

Paris chuffed a small laugh, "Sure. I've seen Ferengi do something similar."

"Usually the most powerful move in a potential deal is to walk away," I helpfully added.

B'Elanna smiled at me, "He's right. It could be a power play to make us more open to trading things we normally never would."

"Like what? They seem to have everything they need." Paris pointed out, folding his arms across his chest. "What could we possibly offer?"

Like a lightbulb going off over his head, Kim declared in a reverential tone, "Stories." At everyone's questioning look, he explained, 'Stories are an important part of their culture. They seem to provide more than entertainment, more like they are a measuring rod of value and belief. We have a huge library onboard. We could offer them the whole thing. Great literature of dozens of cultures."

"Hundreds," I corrected.

Chakotay smiled at the idea, and then looked to Janeway to say, "What do you, Captain? Think they would be interested?"

I found it interesting that he would ask her that question, insinuating that she knew the Sikarians better than anyone else on board. It was technically true, but it took brass balls to say that to the Captain. Even if the allegation went over her head.

She merely nodded and answered, "They just might. From what we've seen, they are a remarkably pleasure oriented people. They just might appreciate a gift of literature."

"Or chocolate," I lazily offer as a joke. "Maybe some massage wands."

"In the meantime," Torres smiled ferally, "I'm going to take a look at that trajector platform. Maybe I can figure out how it works."

Janeway waved that off immediately, snapping at her, "You'll do nothing of the sort, Lieutenant! If I find this law of theirs negotiable, I'll make every attempt to get the technology but until then we won't do anything that might violate their laws as we understand them. That's all."

Everyone took their leave at that, with the exception of Torres, Kim, and myself who remained seated. The view out the large windows was relaxing, the gentle movement of stars across the vast interstellar distances pulling one into a sense of ease. That was why it took me a few moments to realize that my two companions were looking at me.

"Yes?" I asked, wondering what was happening.

Torres smirked at me, "You were too quiet. What are you planning?"

I blinked at that sharp, but accurate, insight. "What makes you assume I'm planning anything."

"Because you didn't argue with the Captain," Kim offered, straight faced with no emotion in his voice. "You always argue with her."

"Not always," I offered, attempting to shake off the looks. "I didn't argue with her today, thus I don't always. See how elegant and logical that argument is? I'm sure Tuvok would back me up."

"Shepard," Torres smiled at me, "why don't you tell us what you are thinking?"

'Damn feminine charms.' They were especially effective when you allow them to work against you despite knowing better, "I was just considering the idea of folding space. If you scanned the planet, and the space it existed in, while one was using their tech, you would likely get a better idea of how the trajector works."

Kim frowned, "But the Captain-"

"-said to not scan the platform." I finished for the younger man. "She didn't say anything about scanning local space. Besides, scanning local space is necessary to make sure we don't run into anything. These people do have a few orbiting satellites we wouldn't want to accidentally ram into. And with their advanced technology, we need to be extra careful, so as to avoid an incident that might jeopardize her… negotiation."

Torres got a vacant look in her eyes, "I remember seeing some odd neutrino patterns when we first approached. That might be a result of the device working."

Kim jumped in, "If that's the case, we'd need a neutrino bubble large enough for the entire ship."

I decided to give them a hint that might save us all a lot of trouble later on, "It might be useful to see if there's something unique about this planet that allows the device to work at all." At their blank looks, I sighed and explained, "If the trajector worked anywhere, with how much these people like to find new stories, Sikaris wouldn't be acting as a hub. They could just throw one down on any rock and constantly expand their coverage, finding more and more stories to bring back home."

Kim and Torres shared a look, and then nodded as one. The Ensign said, "That's not a bad idea. It wouldn't be the first time Starfleet ran into unique technology that only worked in certain places."

"Well," I started, standing up to stretch, "I'll leave your big brains to figure this out. I've got a couple of errands to run."

"What kinds of errands? Maybe I could help?" Torres asked, turning her head to face me so the younger man couldn't see eager look.

"Tempting," I nodded, "but I've got it. Just a quick talk with some people. You two are on the clock, since we don't know how long we're going to be allowed to stay. Could be a week, but if the Captain presses too hard, and the Magistrate takes offense?" I shrugged. "Could be much less. You can always visit after you've solved this mystery."

As I walked away I tuned out the sounds of techno-speak behind me and made my way to the turbolift. Hopefully the two would take my hint about the planet and research everything before trying to plug in unknown alien technology without fulling screening it, thus saving time and not potentially pissing off the locals. Pissing off these people struck me as a horribly bad idea, since there was no telling exactly how advanced they were, with how little of them that I'd seen on the show.

If they got the trajector and plugged it in anyway, well that meant a lot of heads would roll, and I'd hopefully be out of the crossfire, but one could never tell with Janeway. Sometimes she'd step in and deal fairly, sometimes she'd try to blow up the ship rather than give advanced technology to pirates, sometimes she'd give advanced technology to pirates that threatened to blow up the ship because they begged at first, before begging became demands. Personally, I thought the technology was fascinating, but it wouldn't be the last time Voyager was supposed to come across something like it.

Stepping out to the turbolift on Deck 4, I made my way around to my office. I was technically off duty at the moment, but just before I walked into Janeway's meeting I'd dropped off copies of two specific databases in my office. I knew if I was going to make my own trade with the Sikarians I would have to do it soon before relations soured, and so took steps to prepare myself.

Fortunately, I had a great deal to trade with. The cultural database we had acquired from the Baneans had been set aside on a seperate, partitioned drive of Voyager's mainframe when it was received. I made the decision to do this because I wanted to check for anything malicious, like spy-programs. It turned out to be a wise precaution. Not only was there a few carefully hidden programs, but also something that would have given the Baneans a backdoor into the ship's computer. It would have been obvious once activated, and only useful enough to temporarily mess with a few systems, but if used at the right moment would have left us very vulnerable.

Say what you want about the Baneans, but they had a very effective intelligence apparatus. A few days with only limited contact with our own systems, and they managed to write some effective bugs.

On top of the Banean database, I also had the Makull database from that polaric energy fueled planet. As they were a pre-warp people, it was likely the Sikarians had nothing from them, and as I had no way to explain that database to the rest of Voyager, it wouldn't be part of anything Janeway, or Tuvok, bargained with. That should make any trade worth far more.

Slipping the pair of data storage chips into my left arm pocket, I walked over to Transporter Room Two. Their were no orders to keep people on ship when off duty, in fact as many people as possible were being encouraged to visit and relax while they could, so it was easy to join a group making their way down to the planet.

Once on the planet's surface, it only took me a handful of hours to find an information broker. I wanted no part of the politics between magistrates, it was easier to just use a go between and they were far more diligent in avoiding names or asking questions.

The man I found went by the name of Kamba, and he looked just as relaxed and friendly as the rest of the people of this world. Unlike other people, his hair was dark red in color and looked like it was natural, which was a surprise as nearly everyone else I had seen only had dark hair. He was shorter than most, but not by much, and wore very soft looking silks.

He invited me into the backroom of his shop, a funny little restaurant that only served baked goods, which smelled amazing, and inside I found a thick red rug on the floor and a pair of plush yellow chairs. Next to each chair was a tiny brown table just large enough for a cup or mug to rest atop.

Once sat down, pleasantries were exchanged and refreshments were offered, Kamba held up a hand and declared in a soft voice that felt like velvet in my ears, "Before I hear your offer, I would like to take a guess. You wish to trade for our Spatial Trajector. If this is so, I'm afraid you have come a long way for nothing."

"Really?" I ask, playing along for the moment, "I would have thought someone in this profession wouldn't have an issue with breaking the occasional rule."

Kamba sniffed, "Because you don't understand our ways. What I do isn't a crime, but if I traded our technology then I would be sent to a prison colony for a very long time. It would not be possible to find pleasure in that situation. They would make sure of that."

I checked my drink with a swipe of the omni-tool, saw that it was safe, and took a sip. He took a sip as well. "Fortunately for you my new friend, I do not come here seeking technology"

"In that case, we can truly be friends and provide each other with a wonderful experience." Kamba declared with an easy smile. "What do you wish to trade?"

Sinking into the chair, for the first time noticing the subtle massage function, I answered, "I already know that the news of our interest in the technology is flooding the market. I won't bore you with that, or what my crew thinks of that. What I am interested in is the large journey ahead of us that we have."

"Yes," he nodded at me. "Seventy thousand light years is a long way home. A long time."

I smiled back at him, "What I'm interested in is stellar cartography. Maps, of the regions your people have explored, civilizations you have visited. Anything that might help us in our travel to avoid dangers, seek refuge, or trade for supplies."

"A tall order." Kamba cautiously declared, "but not an impossible one if the price is right."

I reached into my pocket, and passed the pair of chips over to my host. "This is the complete cultural database of two civilizations. One of them is the Banea-"

"Bah!" He interrupted, frowning, "we know all about our closest neighbors. We don't like them or their war, but they tell good stories and make new ones all the time. Seekers make weekly trips to the planet and bring back more every journey. Don't waste my time!"

"-and the other," I continued, pretending he hadn't stopped me, "is from a species known as the Makull. They are a very interesting species, very friendly but focused inward and not willing to join the interstellar neighborhood. This database was recovered at great risk and personal expense."

That was true in more than one way. Fucking unrecoverable timelines and experiences.

"Ah, now that is more interesting. But I thought your people didn't make contact with those who had not discovered warp technology?" he smiled. I returned the smile, not saying anything, and he nodded, understanding me loud and clear.

Taking a digital reader out of his pocket, a small device barely the size of a data padd, he placed the Makull chip atop it and began to read. After a few minutes to read a page or two of several different stories, the opening to two songs, and the opening monologue of a play, the man nodded at me again and declared, "I believe we can make a deal. You wish to trade these for an atlas, that I can do. Stories of history, for the stories of travel."

Taking a sip of my excellent tea, I nodded back. "I'm glad we could come to an understanding."

==/\==

B'Elanna found the late evening mess hall to be unusually quiet, with just the four of them gathered around the table. Herself, Luke, Tom, and Harry had congregated there at their own pace in the last few hours. First herself, looking for some coffee or tea while she did some side work on the Sikarian trajector theories she had been for the last three days. Luke arrived soon after, sitting down at the same table as herself, but focused on whatever was on her data padd. Tom and Harry had arrived together, not long ago, and joined them at the table with an interesting tale of intrigue.

Harry's new girlfriend on the surface had apparently led him into a back alley trade deal to meet someone by the name of Jaret. The Sikarian, if he could be trusted, had confirmed her worst fears about Voyager getting a chance to use the trajector technology. Harry had remembered that his comm badge was now a recording device, and used his Tool to show them the entire shady deal. Jaret claimed to be ready to hand over a working copy of the technology in exchange for the ship's collection of literature, and that Magistrate Gath had no intention of helping them leave since it wasn't in his interest to do so, though it was thankfully against Sikarian law to make them stay.

Gath was getting too much "pleasure" from having the interesting aliens around and the increase of prestige among his own people it was bringing.

"Well, that was pretty unequivocable," Luke commented after she heard the whole thing.

Kim leaned forward on the table, looking about as dejected as B'Elanna felt. "I don't know what to do here. I know we'd all like to get that much closer to home, but I don't think Captain Janeway is going to go for getting the technology like this."

"Maybe she will," Torres grasped at the small thread of hope dangling before her like a lifeline. "It is a Sikarian who's making the offer. That's got to count for something!"

Tom shook his head, and crushed the idea before its poisonous influence could spread. "It isn't above-board. The Captain is only going to deal with an official representative, not whoever this Jaret is. We didn't even get if he was actually part of the government, Torres."

Luke leaned back in her chair, clearly thinking, while B'Elanna crossed her arms and muttered, "Chakotay would take the deal."

"So would Shepard," Kim quietly declared, surprising everyone. Not that they thought the Commander wouldn't, he obviously would, but it was that Kim had been the one to say it. Since the day she'd come aboard this ship, everyone in the Maquis had pegged Kim as 'that guy.' The guy in every crew that never considered that the captain might be wrong and would blindly follow their orders.

From the look on his face, Harry was just as surprised by his cold admission as everyone else was. "Well said, Starfleet," Torres complimented him with a grin.

The comm came to life, and Tuvok's voice interrupted them as he said, "Bridge to Ensign Kim. The Captain will see you now." Without waiting for a reply the line closed.

Tom slapped a hand on his best friend's shoulder, and said with false cheer, "It's almost like they can hear us. Just show her the meeting like you did for us, and let her take it from there."

Kim nodded, mostly to himself, as he stood up, "Right."

Tom joined him, "I'll walk you part way. I'm heading for bed. It's been a long day."

With the two men leaving, Torres tried to look back at her notes, but she couldn't focus on them. Not while she was worried about what the Captain was going to do with what Kim told her. This felt like a turning point to her, as if the entirety of their stay in the Delta Quadrant was going to hinge on the decisions being made today, and it was maddening because she had no say in it. For good or ill, one person was going to make a choice that impacted the ship and everyone on board, and she was powerless to do anything about it. The Captain would make her decision, might've already made her decision, and B'Elanna would have to go along with it, no matter what.

Luke turned her head toward her, glancing around, before quietly commenting to Torres, "You know, we could just go download the database and make the deal ourselves."

"What?" B'Elanna asked, caught off guard.

The Ensign smiled warmly at the former Maquis, "I can see it written on your face. You're worried Janeway is going to make the wrong decision. Again. Like she did with the Caretaker array, stranding us here instead of just leaving a bomb if she wanted to blow it up like she claimed. Like she did with the Vidiians, letting murderous organ thieves go with a slap on the wrist when we needed supplies. But we don't have to let her make this choice for us. Jaret isn't going to care about who he makes this deal with, just that he makes it. From what I've gathered, it would be a major win for him politically, and would ruin Gath's standings. In exchange we get a possible way home at best, and a new technology to study at worst. Even if it's something special about the planet, like people are saying, we might be able to find another planet like it out there, or find some way to make it work in different conditions."

That sounded very logical, understandable even, and not at all in line with the normal thinking of a Starfleet officer. Torres shook her head, looking the other woman over, "The Captain would likely take that as a sign of mutiny. I don't know about you, but I don't feel like being hanged."

"It would only be a little mutiny." Luke smiled at her, "And she can't exactly ship us off to be court-martialed. If she could, you'd be in the brig as a Maquis traitor instead of doing better than our last Chief Engineer, I wouldn't have to be learning medicine from a Hologram that's terrible at teaching, and none of us would be in this mess at all."

B'Elanna smiled back at the joke. "Unfortunately I still don't think that would be a good idea." Thoughtfully, she continued, "A few months ago I was just a Maquis wrench jockey, and now I'm a well-respected Chief Engineer on a Starfleet vessel. I have good friends, and people I'm responsible for. I can't risk that."

Rather than sound confrontational, Luke surprised Torres by offhandedly replying, "The Captain also has a responsibility: to get her crew home, and to protect them. By any means necessary. If she doesn't do all she can, she is failing us."

The Ensign looks up at the ceiling for a moment, thinking, before continuing to say, "Did you know that this is Janeway's first command? Her mission was to find you and the other Maquis, capture you all with Tuvok's help, and, after returning you all to Earth for trial, Voyager would have went on to do various scientific missions in the less explored areas of Federation space. No diplomacy, no missions against hostile alien forces, no first contact, just long-term, deep-space, scientific discovery. After spending her life in the Science Division, it was where her focus was. Why do you think she always drops everything any time she sees an interesting stellar phenomena? She's a rookie, as a captain, and doesn't really know what she is doing. It's why we had Lieutenant Commander Cavit, an experienced command officer, as our First Officer. Sometimes I wonder what would've happened if he'd survived, and our Captain had died instead."

Looking at Torres in the eyes, she added, "She's being taken in by the good Samaritan act of Magistrate Gath, and hasn't put up more than a token resistance to his more… personal advances, if the crew are to be believed. She isn't strong enough to do what needs to be done, B'Elanna. When she wises up to his act, I have a feeling that relationship will sour fast. I just hope she'll act like the Captain she is, and put the good of the crew first, not lash out at us like the inexperienced rookie her record suggests she is."

With a helpless shrug the woman stood up, grabbed her padd, and walked out the opposite door the men had used. This left Torres to sit and think about what she had just heard, and it didn't make her feel any better. There was a bit of truth to what Ensign Roberta said, though some of it she'd argue, but it also raised a number of questions. Especially about how she seemed to know what would have happened. On her own Padd, she tried to bring up Janeway's record, only to be denied access to more than the barest details, needing a superior officer's approval to unlock them, which didn't help the growing sense of unease in her gut.

Worse was that Torres couldn't really refute the woman's claims. B'Elanna didn't actually know much about Janeway's past with Starfleet, and up until this very moment she hadn't needed to. All she'd needed to know was that Janeway was the Captain and that was all that mattered. The Captain gave the orders, and everyone else followed them. It was simple. Until now.

Looking back down at the padd in her hands, Torres decided it would be better to just focus on one problem at a time. If she could crack the base of this piece of tech, it wouldn't matter what Janeway did, she could figure it out her own and help get everyone back without the Sikarians, it'd just take her longer.

A few more hours passed without any news, and without much progress. Torres had put the work away for the evening, and was instead relaxing in her quarters. Or at least as much as she could relax sitting on her couch, drinking a glass of ice water, watching Shepard bend over in the corner of the room hooking up a pair of monitors and a small holographic projector. The exact same setup the Commander had in his own quarters.

'Damn that man was fit.'

After spending a few nights there she had come to see how convenient his unique system setup was. They'd spent one night with her just helping him with some design work on his armor project, which she had to admit was interesting, and on another occasion they had simply made popcorn and watched an old motion picture called 'The Godfather.' She'd never tried to watch one of these video stories before, having grown up with holodecks, but she could see the appeal in being able to sit back, relax against him, and watch a story unfold rather than participate in it.

It was difficult to relax, though, as she watched the man climb under her desk and remove a section of wall panel to finish connecting the system to the main computer, and for more than just the obvious reason. Torres would've preferred to be the one doing the connecting, and she just knew that once alone she would be on her hands and knees in his place, double and triple checking everything.

Still, she decided, it was worth it. Shepard had already told her it was possible for both of them to work on the same program at the same time and collaborate in real time. That should help speed up development, and keep them from spending all their allotted holodeck time in that bare-bones workshop program he'd thrown together.

"You know," she said after taking a long drink of water, "it is a shame we didn't get a chance to go down to the surface and enjoy Sikarian hospitality. Might have been really fun."

"You don't think we got enough leave on Banea?" Shepard asked, amusement clear in his voice.

Torres frowned at that comment, thinking about the attack on the Commander and shot back without any heat, "Shut up and finishing playing around down there. There are feet that need to be rubbed."

"Nice of you to notice. I've been on them all day," he fired in return, playfully.

The voice of Chakotay broke out over the rooms speakers, announcing, "First Officer to all hands. Shore leave has been cancelled. Report back to the ship immediately."

Groaning, Torres commented, "Well, that doesn't sound very encouraging."

"The honeymoon is over," Shepard declared, pulling himself out of the wall and up from under the desk. He turned around and activated the screens, smiling to himself as they showed the display he was obviously looking for. Seeing her staring at him, he asked, "What?"

With a tilt of her head, B'Elanna remarked, "That is basically what Ensign Luke said would happen."

"Oh?" The man looked at her, forehead wrinkling in thought.

"She had some interesting things to say earlier." Torres admitted, although she felt hesitant to repeat what she heard. Some of it could be considered mutinous, and he was the Chief of Security. Better to keep to the safer subjects. "One thing she mentioned was that Gath was hitting on the Captain and that it wouldn't end well."

"Well," the man in front of her hedged, "she wasn't wrong."

Torres stared at him. She'd expected something more from him about the Captain, given how much they obviously disliked each other, and given how free the man normally was with his words. It was one of the things she liked about him.

After an oddly awkward moment, he added, "Okay, that's it. You own system is all set up. May you use it for mischief and mayhem."

Torres smirked. "Aren't you the ship's security chief?" she asked, willing to let him deflect, for now.

"True," he agreed, "but I'm not a very good security chief."

"I think the rest of the crew would disagree." She smiled at him, standing up and bringing the man his own glass of water. "Thank you for installing this."

Shepard gratefully drank before answering, "Only the best for my Chief Engineer."

After a few moments of comfortable silence, Torres asked, "So how long do you think it will take for the crew to return?"

Moving to take a seat on the couch, Shepard took another sip of water before answering, "Half the crew is down there, spread out across three landmasses and sixteen cities. It will take at least an hour to get everyone since a lot of people will try to press their luck and stay as long as possible, and the transporters can only handle so many individuals at a time. Plus there are people on the far side of the planet so we would need to wait for them to come into range."

She took a seat next to him, "Shame they didn't get to stay a little longer."

"True," he agreed, a little sadly, "but we couldn't stay here forever."

Torres stubbornly declared, "I would have settled for a few days."

A tone at the door got their attention, and B'Elanna tore herself away from the couch to open it. When the doors slid apart with a hiss, she was surprised to find Tuvok standing there holding a silver case. "May I come in?"

Once inside and the door closed, he noticed Shepard on the couch and greeted him with a cool, "Commander."

"Evening, Tuvok," Shepard nodding in greeting, and then asked, "Do you need me to give you two a moment?"

"I do not believe that will be necessary," the Vulcan declared. He turned back to B'Elanna, held out the case, and told her, "I would like you to take this to engineering for safe keeping, but do not activate it."

"Is this-," Torres began.

"It is the Sikarian Spatial Trajector." Tuvok announced without any sign of shame or concern. "I conducted a trade of the Federation literary library for it."

"Jaret?" the Engineer asked.

"Yes. He was most receptive to the exchange." Tuvok finally looked a little uncomfortable, and added, "The Captain does not know I have done this. I will be informing her of what I have done once we have left orbit. Until then, begin analysis of the technology and possible ways to adapt it to our use."

With a nod of understanding from the Engineer, the Vulcan gave another "Commander," to Shepard, turned, and walked out of the room. Once the doors closed, Torres felt like she was holding the weight of the entire ship in her hands. All the hopes and dreams of the crew were in this case, the ability to get home or at least most of the way there in a single moment. And now, if she was right and there was something about this planet that required the device to work, it fell to her to crush those dreams.

She slumped her shoulders forward, looking down, before setting the case on her desk and moving back to the couch. Pausing, standing, she looked to Shepard, finding it difficult to parse the words, "I should return to Engineering. Not only do I need to secure that case, but I need to ready the engine."

The Commander looked at her, piercingly, like he was studying her. It made her uncomfortable, seeing him stare at her the same way he stared at everyone else when he was trying to figure something out. A moment later his eyes softened and, without warning, he declared, like it was as common a fact as hydrogen being the most abundent element in the universe, "You know it won't work."

Straightening her uniform, Torres nodded. "I double checked all the readings from the planet, and noted a neutrino bubble every time the trajector was used. Along with a rush of anti-neutrinos. Those things would destroy Federation technology, ripping through everything like they were tissue paper."

"And?"

"And," she sighed, "I noticed that the planet has a unique mantle of tetrahedral quartz twenty kilometers thick. The crystalline structure seems to focus and amplify the Trajector field. So if we leave orbit, we lose the ability to use the device anyway."

He stood, walked over to her and wrapped both arms around her in a protective, comforting hug. Closing her eyes, she leaned into it, taking strength from it. "Not a big deal," he softy said, "For now the technology won't work, but with a working example we can maybe rework it and find a solution to the anti-neutrino problem, or some way to harden the systems against the surge. In the meantime, there are likely to be other planets with mantles like Sikaris between here and the Alpha Quadrant. We won't be going home today or in a week, but the device might bring us home far sooner than seven decades."

"Maybe," she mumbled, "but I'm the one who will have to tell them it was all pointless."

He squeezed a little tighter for a moment, "No, you're the one who checked the device that may very well have been made to sabotage Voyager for defying the Sikarin government, and stopped Voyager from being damaged. The anti-neutrinos might not worry them, but with as advanced as their tech is supposed to be, this Jaret likely knew what it'd do to our ship. That isn't your fault. You didn't know about the tech for long enough to work around it before we had to leave, you didn't know about the backroom deals, and you didn't lie to the Captain while she was being seduced by Gath. You did your job. Admirably."

Torres squeezed him back, thankful even if he was being too nice, and then pulled away. "The rest of the crew will be back on soon. I should see to the warp core and make sure we're ready to go. I have a feeling Janeway's going to want us to leave as soon as possible."

After a moment of hesitation, Shepard commanded, "Once you're done for the night, come back to my quarters and I'll give you that foot rub."

"Deal." she smiled.