Atlas
"Absolutely not." Captain Janeway shook her head as she set down the PADD I'd given her when I marched into her ready room armed with Chakotay's discovery and my logic. "We will not abandon our own people to go after someone we know almost nothing about."
My stomach tightened. It was a good thing I'd sat down when I came in, because I could already feel the fear and frustration rising. Eight thousand lives had been lost in the Unity One Cooperative, and I couldn't decide if I was at fault for them or not. If I didn't kill Loran, that number would only continue to rise.
"They abandoned us," I said, speaking of Equinox. "Besides, we've got half the quadrant on alert. We're already doing everything we can."
She folded her hands on the desk, maddeningly calm. "Not everything. I won't condemn Lieutenant Commander Burke for being scared, and I certainly won't punish his crew for following orders."
I leaned forward, hands gripping the edge of her desk. "This isn't about punishment. It's about survival. Loran knows about the orb. She's going to come for it. The best thing we could do for Equinox is let them go. Wherever they are, it's safer than being with us right now."
"General Korok will be escorting us to ensure our safety, and we have been equipped with our own transwarp coil so that we are able to make a quick escape if necessary."
I scoffed. "You think that's going to stop her? You saw what happened at the blue nebula. Unimatrix Zero's ships can't self-regenerate like the Borg can. And Loran has the largest collective in the galaxy at her disposal."
"I've made up my mind, Commander."
"But I can kill her!" My voice was rising, volume surpassing a respectful decibel because everything in me was absolutely sure of what had to be done.
The glare Janeway gave me could have put a hole in the bulkhead.
I took a breath and dialed my emotions back down. "Captain, this is the path Sisko wants me to follow. Now that I know what my tagh is capable of, all I need is to get Loran within eyesight. Without their queen, her collective will fall into chaos. This could be the difference between winning and losing the war."
She folded her arms. "Believe it or not, there are millions of capable people involved in this war effort, many of whom are far more qualified than you and me. They're relying on us to follow orders, and our orders are to find Equinox before the Borg do."
"If you told our allies what we have, they might—"
"What we have are relics and guesswork. That's not good enough."
"'Relics and guesswork?'" My face burned, but I forced myself to take another breath. "At least let me show you—"
"This is not up for debate," she snapped. "We're going after Equinox because we're Starfleet officers and we will not leave our own behind. End of discussion. Is that understood, Commander?"
I ground my teeth, biting back further argument that would only get me into trouble. "Yes, Captain."
"Dismissed."
Less than a half-hour later, Harry's bridge watch shift ended. I was still pacing when he walked into our quarters.
"Hey, hey…" He stepped in front of me and put his hands on my shoulders. "What happened? What's going on?"
"She won't listen!" I nearly yelled.
"Who?"
"Captain Janeway! I told her what we need to do and she won't listen." I spread my arms wide. "How the fuck am I supposed to follow the path if she won't listen?"
Harry frowned. "Okay, you're gonna have to back up a little and fill me in."
With a heavy sigh, I ran my hands over my face. "Remember what I told you about my orb experience with the Emissary?"
He released my shoulders. "You said he wanted you to learn about the orbs and find something, but he didn't tell you what."
"He also told me the Prophets laid out a path for me—that I have to choose whether or not to walk it, but that if I didn't we might lose to the Borg."
"No pressure."
My rage cracked a little. There was terror beneath it screaming that if I didn't kill Loran we'd all die.
But a quieter voice inside me asked, What if that isn't true?
"Okay, he didn't exactly say that," I admitted. "I asked if that's what would happen, and he said, 'maybe.'"
Taking my hand, Harry led me to the couch and sat, tugging me down beside him. "So he didn't say what would happen either way."
I shook my head.
"Not very helpful."
It really wasn't, but I couldn't stand to do nothing while people were being killed or assimilated. "I need to do this, Harry. One thing he did make clear was that not taking the path could lead to death. That's how Jadzia died—Sisko strayed from his path."
"And you think he's trying to save you from a similar loss?"
"Given that the alternative is the entire Federation—the entire galaxy—being assimilated by the Borg, yes I think he's trying to prevent a loss. And I have the weapon to do it."
"What weapon?"
"Chakotay and I were looking through the files Ezri sent, and..." How was I going to explain this?
When I didn't say anything more for several seconds, Harry prodded. "What? What did you find?"
Getting to my feet, I went to the desk and pulled up an image of the bracelet from Sidu. As Harry followed me over, I unsheathed my knife and set it on the desk. Then I turned to him and crossed my arms.
Harry frowned at the screen, glancing from it to the tagh and back again.
"It's an orb fragment," I said. "They both are. I have a piece of an orb in my family's tagh."
"So what does that mean? If whole orbs are essentially telepathic comm links to the Prophets, what can an orb fragment do?"
Taking the blade by the tip, I whipped it at the protruding bulkhead between one viewport and the next. The knife hit with a dull thud and stuck.
My eyes hadn't left Harry's.
Slowly, he turned his gaze, and I followed. My tagh was exactly where I'd wanted it to go—halfway between the two viewports, sunk to the hilt.
"Measure it," I said.
Taking a tricorder from inside the desk, Harry scanned the distance between the knife and each viewport. He didn't have to tell me what his readings said. When he uttered a quiet, "Oh my God," I knew it was the same down to the nanometer.
Like the throw I'd made in Chakotay's office, it shouldn't have been possible. Yet there it was.
"Is this what Captain Sisko wanted you to find?" he asked, folding the tricorder shut.
"I guess so."
He stowed the device and turned to me. "So what won't Captain Janeway listen to?"
"We have to kill Loran." I met his gaze. "I have to kill Loran."
Harry's eyes widened. "What? How'd you draw that conclusion?"
"Sisko said—well, implied—that if I took the path it could stop the Borg. He wanted me to contact Ezri and get information about the orbs, and she sent me this." I stepped closer. "Don't you see? This is why he brought us here. Everything has been leading to this. I have to use this tagh to kill the queen."
He ran his fingers through his hair. "This is ridiculous."
"But it's the truth."
"Okay." He waved his hands in front of his face as if to keep me from adding more. "Say I accept your argument. The fate of the galaxy hinges on you killing Loran. First of all, we don't actually know what killing a primary admin drone will do to the collective. We can guess, but we don't know."
"I think it's a pretty safe bet that—"
"Second, there's the issue of getting you to her without being assimilated along the way."
"Actually, I—"
"Third—"
I sighed and crossed my arms. Evidently he was determined to say his piece, and it was pointless to try and stop him.
But instead of speaking, he grabbed my face and kissed me. When our lips parted, he rested his forehead against mine. "You don't get to do something like this on your own."
"Harry…" A big part of me wanted to keep arguing, but all I could do was make a quiet, half-hearted protest. "This is what I'm supposed to do."
"Do you know that for sure? Maybe you should talk to Captain Sisko before you go running off to fight a Borg queen on your own."
"To be fair, I wasn't planning on doing this alone. I tried to convince Captain Janeway to postpone our search for Equinox, but she wouldn't listen."
"I thought you wanted to find them as badly as she did."
I pulled away and paced across the room, wrapping my arms around myself and staring out the viewport above my altar. Abandoning Equinox felt like the worst kind of betrayal.
But it was the right thing to do.
"I do want to find them," I said. "I promised Captain Ransom we'd get his people home, and I owe him that. But realistically, there's not much we can do that our allies aren't already doing. There's thousands of Zahl and Unimatrix Zero ships out there, but there's only one of us. And as much as I hate to say it, this is more important. Besides, after Loran's latest attack…"
Harry didn't reply. By the look on his face when I turned to him, he was as conflicted as I was. Not going after Equinox was counter to everything we stood for, but losing the Unity One Cooperative made it hard to deny the urgency of our fight against Loran.
"I can't just sit around running pointless scans for a ship we'll never find," I said.
His lips curled in a half-smile. "I know. You've never been one to sit around in any situation, but maybe for now that's the smart move."
I frowned. "How?"
He advanced on me, pulling my hands from my waist and clutching them in his. "If this really is what needs to happen, then we'll have to prepare. Test what your tagh can do. Make plans. Talk to Sisko. It's going to take time. By then, maybe we'll have found Equinox."
"And if we don't find them?"
"Then we can take another stab at changing Captain Janeway's mind. Maybe we even bring it up to Commander Chakotay or Tuvok first, see what they have to say."
"What if she's still not convinced?"
Harry pressed his lips together, glanced at our joined hands, then looked back at me. "Then maybe we talk to Annika and try to feel out what Unimatrix Zero thinks."
My eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Behind the backs of our superior officers? Our captain?"
He chuckled as if my reaction was funny. "You're going to do it anyway."
He was right. But I wasn't joking.
It was no small transgression, what he was suggesting. Worthy of a court martial, at least. I knew what it was like to live outside of Starfleet's good graces, and I wasn't afraid of the repercussions. Given my status as a genetically engineered person, my discharge was inevitable once we got back to Earth anyway. But Harry's dreams of being a captain, his work to get this far, his newest promotion… it would all be for nothing if he went against Janeway's orders or acted without her approval.
This wasn't the first time he'd offered to risk his position in Starfleet to accompany me in an off-the-books mission. He'd done it when we took Equinox to join the rebellion against Annorax and rescue Chakotay and Iliana. But Janeway had approved that mission. Knowingly going against her wishes was something else entirely.
"Let me do it," I begged, curling my fingers tightly around his. "You don't need to take the hit. You could be stripped of rank or even discharged for going along with this."
"My commission won't matter if we all end up assimilated or dead."
"Harry—"
"You're not going to change my mind." Releasing one of my hands, he cupped my cheek and stroked it with his thumb. "We're in this together."
The way he said it left no room for debate. He would go with me. More than that, he'd come up with the rebellious idea himself. This wasn't just about love or loyalty to me. This was about belief in doing the right thing no matter the cost.
Belief that my proposal might actually be the right thing, even if our captain disagreed.
I pressed my palm to his chest, studying those deep, brown eyes. "I've been a bad influence on you."
He shook his head. "No. You've shown me things I never even thought of back in the academy. Before you, I lived by the book because I thought that was the only way to help anyone. But sometimes the rules don't leave room for nuance. If doing the right thing means losing my commission, then so be it."
"And you think this is the right thing?" I whispered. "You don't think I'm crazy?"
"I don't think you're crazy. What I do think is we need to take some more time before we act on anything." His hand slipped down to my shoulder. "I also think if this really is the right thing, the captain will come around."
I scoffed. "You didn't see her when I brought it up. She's determined to find Equinox, and you know when she sets her mind to something, she's not going to stop until she gets it done."
"I could say the same for you."
"Damn right."
He snorted, and both hands moved to my shoulders. "Listen. Right now, she needs this. She needs to do her job, and as fleet captain, Equinox is her responsibility. She takes that seriously, and I think it's hitting her hard that we had to leave them behind. But she knows the situation. She knows our allies are our best bet at finding them. When the time comes to do something bigger, she'll do what needs to be done."
"You really believe that?"
"Without a doubt."
I bit my lip. The part of me that demanded immediate and decisive action still clamored for attention, but I trusted Harry more than anyone else. He was right. This would be the smart choice... except for one thing.
"Loran knows about the orb," I murmured. "Sooner or later, she's going to come for it."
A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he lowered his head. Taking a deep breath, he looked up again and squeezed my shoulders. "Then maybe we should just let her come. You couldn't ask for a better opportunity to kill her than that."
Counselor's Log, stardate 53011.9
This morning, Captain Janeway announced to the senior staff that she's ordering all children, families, and expectant families to stay behind and help the war effort from the base here at Sinoso. This way if Loran does target Voyager, they'll be relatively safe. The only exception is Mezoti, probably because she knows our stubborn secret-keeper will stay with Annika no matter what Janeway says.
My job now is to make myself available in any way I can to help support these families. Voyager has been their home for five years, and the crew has been their village. It won't be easy to leave.
But at least the captain is taking my warning about Loran seriously.
Despite the Wildmans' living room being in a half-packed state, everything was either secured or beyond the reach of little hands. Naomi—now three and a half years old but developmentally on par with an eleven-year-old Terran—was sitting on the floor with Asher, the baby I'd discovered on the damaged Borg sphere.
The sight of the infant stopped me short, but I forced my feet forward anyway, allowing the door to close behind me.
He'd gotten so big in the past two months. Even outside of a maturation chamber, the nanoprobes in his bloodstream hyper stimulated his growth. He'd been premature when we rescued him, but now he was sitting up on his own.
Since permanent implants couldn't exactly grow with the body, there hadn't been much Borg technology to remove. His skin was a healthy tan instead of Borg-gray, and a thin layer of dark brown hair covered his head. Other than his facial ridge, he didn't look like the same baby.
The anxiety I'd felt over seeing him again loosened its grip. No flashbacks came. I could handle this. I would handle it.
Naomi looked up and waved as I walked in. "Hi, Talia!"
Before I could respond, Sam stepped out of the master bedroom and smiled. "Hello, Commander. What can I do for you?"
"I just wanted to check on you," I said, glancing from Naomi to Sam and returning her smile. "See if there's anything I can do to help."
"That's very kind of you," Sam said. "Actually, I would like to have your input on something." She gestured to her room. "We can talk in here, if you don't mind."
"Mom," Naomi interjected, "can you watch Asher for a minute before you go? I need to use the head."
"Of course, honey." As Naomi left the room, Sam turned to me. "Can I get you something to drink?"
"I'm alright, but thank you."
"Ah!" Asher stared at the door to the head, looking rather put out.
Sam chuckled. "He's a very big fan of Naomi."
Asher's head swiveled towards Sam. "Ah!"
"Don't worry, baby, she'll be back soon."
He glanced down at the colorful toy butterfly still clutched in his hand, then back up at Sam. Finally, he settled his gaze on me. The way he stared, one might have thought I'd sprouted an extra head.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped further into the room, knelt, and offered him my hand, palm facing up. "Hi, Asher," I said gently, giving him a warm smile. "I guess it's about time I met you, isn't it?"
For a moment, he just continued to stare at me. Then he looked to Sam, as if seeking her guidance.
"It's alright, Asher," she said, coming up beside me and stooping down. "We like Talia."
Asher's gaze returned to me. He flapped his arms, rattling the toy in his fist. Then he was reaching for me with both hands, babbling what was clearly a request to be held.
My heart pounded as the anxiety curled around me once again, but I didn't dare refuse. Obediently, I scooped him up and balanced him on my lap. "Hi, there. How are you, Asher?"
He babbled some more, rattling the butterfly next to my face before dropping it. Tiny hands found my eyes, ears, nose, and mouth, his skin so soft I could hardly believe it. The last baby I'd held was my nephew years ago, and I'd forgotten how it felt.
I never had the chance to hold my son.
The thought struck from nowhere and seemed to suck all the air out of the room. My eyes burned, tears threatening to make an appearance. I refused to let them—not when Asher was warming up to me so quickly, and certainly not in front of Sam. I had a job to do. So I did my best to hold back the emotions and force myself to breathe normally, focusing on the happy, lively baby in my arms.
I was safe. He was safe. The sphere and the gravity well were far, far behind us. I was here to support Sam and Naomi. I would not make this about me.
When Naomi returned, Asher immediately reached for her. I passed him off gratefully.
"Lieutenant Commander Eelo and I are going to have a talk in my room for a few minutes," Sam told her. "I'm going to close the door, but if he gets out of hand, come get me."
Naomi smiled. "We'll be okay, mom. I can handle him."
Sam kissed Naomi's forehead beside her ridges. "I know you can, sweetheart. I just don't want you trying to handle too much on your own. Alright?"
"Alright."
"Ah-ba," Asher said, reaching for the toy he'd dropped.
Sam retrieved the butterfly and returned it to him. "Try to hold onto it this time, okay?"
He squealed and rattled it in reply.
Rising to her feet, Sam led me to her room and tapped the panel by the door to close us inside. "I'm sorry about the mess."
"Don't apologize," I said. "You're moving. It's messy business."
"Yes, it definitely is." She lowered herself onto the edge of the bed and folded her hands in her lap. "I'm concerned about the way Naomi is reacting to this move."
I leaned against an adjacent wall. "How so?"
"When I broke the news to her, she asked a lot of questions. She's being very mature about it, but I know she's anxious about leaving Voyager and the danger everyone is in because of the war. The truth is, I'm worried about the war, too, and I'm not going to lie to her about the situation. But I don't want to make her even more anxious than she already is. Do you have any suggestions for what I can do to help her?"
Did I?
Children were never my specialty. In grad school, I had focused on individual therapy with adults and diplomatic relations with unknown species. Because most deep space ships were designed for families, at least one of the other counselors selected for a mission would specialize in relationships and families. That way, we could balance each other out.
Here on Voyager, I had to be everything to everyone.
When Sam announced she was pregnant, I'd brushed up on the basics I learned at the academy and read some of what I could find in the database, but I hadn't done as much as I wanted to. Ever since my reinstatement, I'd been regularly overbooking myself and juggling more roles than I should have.
Now that I was looking into Sam's expectant eyes, part of me regretted that I hadn't committed myself more to this particular need.
"Child psychology isn't my strong suit," I admitted, "so take this for what it's worth. Naomi isn't a typical kid. She doesn't really have peers, so the crew has to fill that role. Since one purpose peers can serve is to give us an idea of what level we should be functioning at, I wonder how it might be affecting Naomi to have the crew setting this example instead of other kids."
Sam nodded. "I think about that a lot. Naomi idolizes the same people she calls her friends because they're adults. She looks up to them, but she also wants to be like them right now. One of the things she asked when I told her about the move was if she could do anything to help fight the Borg."
"What did you tell her?"
"I suggested that she should start by focusing on the move and settling into our new place, and that we'd think about the rest later."
I smiled. "A very diplomatic answer."
"You have to be diplomatic with Naomi. She's not easily deterred."
"I imagine that quality can be as much a source of frustration as it is of pride."
The love on Sam's face spoke even louder than her words did. "Yes, it certainly is."
"What else about having the crew as peers has seemed to affect Naomi?"
"She tries to be perfect at everything, and she gets frustrated when she falls short. She takes her captain's assistant job very seriously, and she's already talking about taking virtual academy courses through the comm net." Sam glanced briefly at her hands, which were folded in her lap. "Sometimes I worry that she might be pushing herself too hard or trying to grow up too fast."
"It must be especially hard for you because, physically, she's growing up much faster than a Terran would."
"It is. I knew what I was getting into when I married Gres, but…" She sighed, fidgeting with her wedding ring. "Knowing something and seeing it are two different things."
"That's true."
"Should I be worried about her?"
I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. "To an extent, it's normal for children at Naomi's stage of development to want to impress people. Often, they want to be seen as competent at whatever tasks they do. It's a basic psychological need we all have, but it really shows in the school age years. So she's right on the mark there. And from what I've noticed, she's more than competent. She's a smart kid."
Sam smiled. "She is. She's so mature, too. At least, I think so. I never really interacted much with kids before I had her."
"Could that be part of your anxiety about how she's doing?" I asked. "Because you lack experience with other children?"
"Yes, I'm sure it is. But knowing that only makes me feel worse."
"Why is that?"
"It reminds me of how unprepared I was to have her. Gres was the one who was good with kids, not me. I never thought I'd have to do this alone."
"This is a lot to handle without a partner."
"It really is. But it does make me feel better knowing she's acting normally for her age. I'll be honest—I'm very nervous about what's going to happen as she gets closer to adolescence."
I snorted. "That can definitely be a challenge… for parents and kids."
Sam chuckled. "I hated it. Suddenly, all my friends wanted to talk about their crushes and going on dates, but I just wanted to talk about science."
"Ah." I smirked. "You were one of those."
"Yes," she said, still laughing. "I was."
"Is there anything in particular that worries you about Naomi transitioning to adolescence?"
"Well, it used to be that I had no idea what to expect for how it might play out here on Voyager. Now that we're moving to Sinoso, she's going to meet a lot of other kids. I worry about how they might respond to her and how she'll respond to them."
"Tell me more about that," I said. "What do you think will impact how she interacts with other kids?"
Sam twisted the ring on her finger. "She'll be the only Ktarian on the entire planet, so she'll grow up faster than they will. And she was raised very differently. The only other person she's interacted with who was near her age was Anelina, and they didn't get along. She won't understand the politics that go on in cliques. They might take advantage of her naïveté, or else they'll frustrate her to the point where she won't want to have friends at all."
I nodded. "Those are all very valid concerns. A lot of parents worry about their kids starting adolescence, but I'm not sure most of them could even imagine this situation. You're facing a unique challenge."
"It certainly feels that way."
We both fell silent for a moment as I considered the situation.
"I'm wondering if it might be helpful for you to practice some calming techniques together," I suggested. "You know she's anxious, and she knows you're anxious. Some of your anxieties are different, but one very big one is the same."
Her expression became contemplative, but she nodded along.
"Now," I continued, "I'm not saying you should lay all of your anxieties on her, or push her to tell you all of hers. But that doesn't mean you can't support each other in this one worry you both share. It might actually bring you closer, and it'll give her a model for how to handle anxiety in a healthy way. As for you, it won't answer any of your questions, but it might help you cope with the feelings they bring up a bit better."
"I hadn't thought about that," she said, a look of understanding overtaking her face. "I'm willing to try. What are the techniques?"
"Why don't I take some time today to decide on a few easy ones we can all practice together. The three of us can meet tomorrow morning before you go, and we'll try them out to see what works. I'll also put together a few resources you can take with you to Sinoso. Will that work for you?"
"That would be great, Talia." She grinned. "Thank you."
"Of course," I said, smiling back. "I'm happy to help. And if there's anything else you think of between now and then, or even after you leave, just let me know. I'll do whatever I can."
"That's very kind of you."
Kindness was only part of the offer. This was also my job—something I'd been getting worse at doing as time ticked by. Five years ago, I wouldn't have waited until she was leaving to check in.
Since then, I'd become something else.
Maybe I could make up for it with small gestures like this—a few de-stressing exercises, some self-guided resources, and a promise to respond to any comms she sent in the future. Surely, there would be resources available to her on Sinoso, as well. I could put in a few calls and try to make some connections. See if Sinta had any ideas.
But it wouldn't be enough. None of that would matter if we didn't destroy our enemy. If I really wanted to make up for my mistakes, I had to ensure that Sam, Naomi, and everyone else would be safe. That was my job now—to kill Loran so that no one would have to face a universe consumed, one world at a time, by the Borg.
And that was exactly what I intended to do.
