IV.
Seven of Nine remained still, her eyes open but seemingly unfocused, as she was scanned with a tricorder for the fifth time that morning. She did not allow her eyes to twitch and forced her breathing to remain even so as not to let Dr. Zupanich know she was aware of her surroundings. She listened intently to a dialogue between Garrett and Zupanich.
"What is Commander Chakotay's condition?" Garrett asked.
"Fifty percent of his neural pathways have been rewritten. The nanoprobes have completed the cortical node that will allow neural interlink."
"Excellent. Does that mean we can move on to phase two?"
"Yes," Zupanich replied. "We can proceed. I'm going to use Seven of Nine's neural interlink frequency to connect them."
"And then you'll be able to implant my neural transceiver?" Admiral Garrett asked anxiously.
"The connection between the two drones will take several hours to complete. After that, I want to observe them for eighteen to twenty-four hours before I equip you with the neural transceiver and link you to the hive."
"Less than two days, then?" Garrett asked. "Thirty six hours utnil I can test my first orders to my collective?"
"Yes, Admiral. I should be able to equip your neural transceiver tomorrow or the next day."
"Excellent."
Seven continued to lie very still. At least she knew what Zupanich and Garrett were planning. She understood that Zupanich would use what remained of her myo-neural cortical array to link her to Chakotay. Zupanich had said that only fifty percent of Chakotay's neural pathways had been rewritten. She hoped that she would be able to reach the Chakotay she knew and communicate with him before the nanoprobes rewrote his entire mind.
"What about Seven of Nine?" asked Garrett. "She seems to be an unwilling participant."
"I've already reactived her myo-neural cortical array," said Zupanich. "Her old Borg circuitry has already taken over; that's how those drones are programmed. Look at her. She's been conscious for this entire conversation, but there's no reaction. Drones will only react when ordered to or in case of a threat. She's experiencing neither, so she's inert."
Zupanich said it with an air of authority, but Seven smiled inwardly. After having been manipulated by the Borg more than once, she had worked with the Doctor to ensure that her old Borg circuitry would never be able to completely override her human neural network. Zupanich's idea wouldn't work as well as he thought. But, she reminded herself, for all intents and purposes, it had to appear to Zupanich and Garrett that their plan was working perfectly.
"Well," Zupanich said, "I'm ready to get started on the link. If you'll excuse me, Admiral."
"Of course," said Garrett, but Seven heard no hiss of the doors to sickbay, and she deduced that Garrett was standing by to watch. She remained immobile, showing no emotion, reacting as a drone would to an irrelevant conversation.
She heard Zupanich walk over to a table near her biobed and pick up an instrument. There was a low hum, and then the doctor walked away from her bed and towards Chakotay's. After the hum and whir of several medical instruments, Seven gasped, unable to stop herself from reacting. Zupanich leaned over her, but she did not meet his gaze, not letting him know that she was aware of his presence. He ran a medical tricorder over her. "The link between the two drones has been established," Zupanich stated.
Seven felt the strange sensation of her Borg neural link activating. She had been linked several times since she had been severed from the Collective, but each time it felt more foreign than the last. She felt the touch of Chakotay's mind and forced her body to relax as she allowed her thoughts to focus on him.
Chakotay, she thought. Chakotay, can you hear me?
There was no reply, and, through the link, she began to investigate the state of Chakotay's mind. The nanoprobes that Zupanich had stolen from her and then reprogrammed were, indeed, quickly rewriting Chakotay's neural pathways. They had already installed a cortical node that was attached to his brain stem. The nanoprobes were now reconfiguring his frontal lobe, rewriting the process he would use to solve a problem or make a decision. She decided to delve deeper.
Chakotay? She felt a sensation, as if he was reaching out a hand to her, calling out from a great distance. Chakotay, she said, you must listen to me. Hold on to what you know is true. Hold on to your individuality. Hold on to who you are. They are trying to take it away from you. Don't let them. There was no reply, but she could feel the touch of his mind, and had confidence that somewhere in the recesses of his self, he had heard her.
She had to find a way to connect with the Chakotay that she knew. His memories, she realized, as the link between them grew stronger. His memories haven't been affected yet. Their bond intensified, giving her deeper access to his mind. She hesitated. She was about to invade Chakotay's privacy by looking into his psyche and accessing memories of his past that he had never shared with her. Was it moral for her to look into these memories? But then she thought about the nanoprobes quickly rewiring his brain, and she realized that if she didn't do this, he might lose himself completely. Mentally, she trudged on. Remember, she thought towards him. She had to fight to keep her body calm, not to betray herself to Zupanich or Garrett, as her connection to Chakotay deepened, and she began to see his life through his own eyes.
He was a young boy, standing on a rocky cliff over a vast, calm lake on a planet she didn't recognize. The sun beat down on his tanned body, and he jumped off a rock into the water, plunging into its soothing, cool depths. His older brother, already swimming in the lake below, teased him for being afraid to jump off the highest point of the cliff. "Chac!" his mother called. "Aapo, time for dinner." Reluctantly, the two boys climbed out of the water, drying themselves as they ran up to the house where their mother had prepared a delicious meal.
Chakotay, Seven thought. Do you hear me?
He was an angry teenager, arguing with his father about whether or not he should be allowed to attend Starfleet Academy. "I have a recommendation from Captain Sulu," he said, but his father did not listen.
He was an angry young man, standing on the bank of the same lake where he had swum as a boy, but instead of jumping into the water with carefree joy, he was falling to his knees, crying out, "Father, Father, please forgive me!" He looked up at the world that had been so beautiful to him as a child, and saw the fires of war burning around him. He stood, determined to set things right by resigning his Starfleet commission and joining the Maquis to fight for his people.
He was an angry Maquis captain, leading his crew through ambushes on Cardassian bases so that he could liberate prisoners. He captained the Val Jean without fear, ordering his people into the Badlands to pursue Cardassian ships. He was a keen hunter and a demanding leader who commanded the loyalty of his crew. He found moments of pleasure in nights with a woman named Seska, but anger and hatred dominated him and drove him onward. He felt endless compassion for the Maquis and the worlds under siege, but gave no quarter to a single Cardassian soldier.
He was standing on the bridge of a Starfleet vessel—Seven recognized it as Voyager—ready to punch Tom Paris in the face when a petite redheaded captain stepped in between them. "You won't need those here," she said, looking at his phaser. He lowered the weapon, and suddenly felt disarmed in more ways than one.
Chakotay? Seven tried again. There was no verbal response, but there was a sensation, a recognition, and he seemed closer this time. She knew she could reach him; she just had to go deeper.
He was chiseling into a large piece of stone, carving out a place big enough for a person to lie down in comfortably, but still be able to rest her back up against one side. He was creating a piping system and a pump that went from the river to the tub, and a heating system to heat the water. It was easy to keep it a secret from her. She spent all her time in the woods, looking for the insect that had given them this disease and stranded them on this planet. He enjoyed the work of making the tub. He no longer felt angry.
He was holding Kathryn's hand across a table, fumbling with his words, trying to find a way to tell her how he felt without scaring her, inventing a cumbersome legend in the process. Kathryn was crying, and he wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms and hold her and never let her go.
Seven stopped. Suddenly she felt that these memories might be too personal. She worried that they might be something she wasn't meant to see, or, moreover, something that she didn't want to. Chakotay? she tried again, hesitantly.
She could feel his response, an attempt to reach back to her, but it was not enough. She had not found him yet, or what was left of him as the nanoprobes continued to rewrite his neural pathways. But he was there; somewhere, deep within his mind, there was a part of him that was still untouched by the Borg technology. That was the part she had to find, the part she had to convince not to let go. She steeled herself. I'm sorry, Chakotay, she thought, and continued.
He was clutching Kathryn's body to him. "You can't die on me now. No, Kathryn… You can't die." A cold fear gripped him, the fear that he had lost the most precious person in the universe to him without ever having told her how he felt. Tears streamed down his cheeks.
He was holding a champagne flute, clinking glasses with Kathryn, on a sailboat on the holodeck. The deck of the boat was illuminated by moonlight, and he admired the way the light glanced off her hair. He inhaled the sweet-smelling air of the holographic Lake George and sipped his champagne. "To life," he said. "To life," she echoed, and she scooted a little closer to him.
He was sitting across the table from Kathryn enjoying a candlelit dinner, romantic music playing in the background. "Are you with me?" she asked, caressing his cheek. "Always," he replied, and when her hand found its way into his later that night, he never wanted to let go.
Chakotay, please answer me, Seven thought.
Yes, she finally heard the strangled reply. I am here. I am Chakotay.
Do you know who I am? she asked. Do you remember me?
Kathryn?
Seven tried to hide how stung she felt by the remark. She did not know if Chakotay would be as acutely aware of her feelings through the link as she was of his.
No, she thought back. Not Kathryn. She delved into his memories again. He was telling Janeway that they should throw Seven of Nine out the airlock. He was telling her the nature of the scorpion. He was…
No! Seven shouted in her own mind. Flash forward.
He was stranded alone with Seven of Nine on a primitive planet, beginning to see her in a new way. He was flattered by her attentions, delighted by an impromptu picnic in the cargo bay. He was admiring her attributes, finding that he enjoyed her company in spite of himself.
Seven. She felt relief wash over her; he remembered her. What is happening?
They are trying to take away your mind, Chakotay. Garrett and Zupanich, they are trying to take away your individuality, your ability to make choices, everything that makes you who you are. You can't let them. I'm going to help you in every way I can, but you need to help, too. Don't let go of who you are.
I don't understand, Chakotay replied. I don't understand what's happening. Things that I used to understand, used to know, now they're dark.
He was speaking of the nanoprobes, Seven realized, and the changes they were making to his mental structure. I'm going to help you, Chakotay, she assured him. I'm going to help you to hold on, to remember. And whatever you do, don't give up. Seven had to fight hard not to react to the strangled cry of anguish that was his reply.
"What is our ETA at the coordinates I gave you?" Janeway asked as she entered the front compartment of the Delta Flyer.
"Fifty-two hours, Captain," Kim replied.
"Start using the long range scanners to look for for a high concentration of tetryon particles," Janeway ordered.
"Yes, ma'am," said Kim.
"Do you believe that Admiral Garrett's base could be this far from the coordinates?" Tuvok asked.
"I think it's unlikely, Tuvok, but I don't know for sure."
"Finally!" said Torres. "Something we can do!"
"As soon as we detect Garrett's base, we'll assess the situation," said Janeway. "Then it will be time to test our theories."
Torres handed Janeway a small device. It was a third the size of a tricorder and would easily fit onto a belt or into a pocket. "This will generate the dampening field we need to separate Garrett from his collective. Whoever uses it will need to be within three meters of him, but it's not a device Garrett will recognize or be able to deactivate. It contains a scrambler and won't be detected in a standard sensor sweep. One of us can easily conceal it on our person."
"Good work, B'Elanna," Janeway said.
"I've looked at all my old nanoprobe research," said the Doctor, "and I have no reason to believe that nanoprobes, once programmed, cannot be reprogrammed an infinite number of times." He paused. "What I don't know is what kind of damage the nanoprobes may have already done to the neural pathways of Commander Chakotay and Seven."
"You'll find a way to treat them, Doctor," said Janeway confidently. She looked around the cockpit of the Delta Flyer, feeling an emotion of intense gratitude rise up within her. "Thank you all for being here," she said. "I couldn't have done this without you."
Paris smiled. "We wouldn't have let you go without us, Captain."
Janeway looked at Paris, Tuvok, Torres, Kim and the Doctor, and she smiled back, realizing that Tom was right. Perhaps she wasn't alone, after all.
Seven opened her eyes and became aware that she was no longer restrained to the biobed in the medical bay. Instead, she was standing in a regeneration alcove. In fact, as she looked around, she realized she was in a bay of regeneration alcoves in various states of completion. In the alcove next to her stood Chakotay.
Seven did not know how many hours it had been since Zupanich had activated their neural link. She realized that she must have lost consciousness after so many days without regeneration. Judging by the number of completed regeneration alcoves, the alcoves seemed to predate her and Chakotay's arrival. Garrett was preparing not only for a couple of test subjects, but for a whole miniature collective.
Mentally, she reached out to Chakotay. The nanoprobes continued to rewrite his neural pathways, and after her initial success, it would only get harder and harder to reach him. She could still feel the touch of his actual mind. The nanoprobes had not completely erased it yet. She thought back to her own assimilation experience, how Captain Janeway had been able to restore her individuality even after she had spent most of her life as a drone. She had to believe that no matter what effect the nanoprobes had, the real Chakotay would still be somewhere in that body.
The door to the bay swished open, and Garrett and Zupanich entered. Seven closed her eyes, remaining still. No matter what, Garrett and Zupanich had to believe their plan had worked, that her Borg neural net had taken over, and that her human mind had been completely sublimated. She needed to buy herself time. She and Chakotay were outmanned and outgunned, and if she was going to find a way for them to escape, Garrett needed to trust her and believe that she would follow his orders as a drone would, without question.
Zupanich pressed the panel next to her regeneration alcove, and she opened her eyes. She stepped down from the alcove, staring straight ahead. Zupanich scanned her with a medical tricorder. "Everything seems to be in order," he said.
Garrett stepped forward. "State your identity."
It was a test, she realized as her eyes flicked to his face. "Seven of Nine, tertiary adjunct of Unimatrix Zero One," she replied in her most emotionless tone.
"Seven of Nine, state your purpose."
"We are Borg," she replied. "Our purpose is the attainment of perfection." She tilted her head, regarding him coldly. "Your biological and technological distinctiveness will be added to our own."
"I don't think so," Garrett replied with a smile. "Soon, very soon, you'll have a new purpose." He turned to Zupanich. "Their link is complete, Doctor?"
"Yes," replied Zupanich, who was scanning Chakotay. "The nanoprobes have rewritten his neural pathways. He no longer thinks of himself as Commander Chakotay, an individual. He is ready to accept your orders, Admiral."
"And this one?" Garrett asked, regarding Seven suspiciously.
"She also appears to be compliant, Admiral."
"In that case, I think it is time for you to activate my neural transceiver, Doctor."
Seven held her breath as Zupanich used a neurolytic emitter to activate the admiral's transceiver. She hoped that the transceiver would link to her Borg cortical node without allowing the admiral to see how human she actually was until she wanted him to. Because the admiral was not Borg, because he merely had a transceiver implanted but did not have a cortical node attached to his brain stem, she thought that his ability to delve into her thoughts would be limited. In a moment, she would know if her hypothesis was correct.
She saw Garrett jolt as the neural transceiver was activated, and then she heard his voice in her mind. Seven of Nine, tertiary adjunct of Unimatrix Zero One, can you hear me?
I hear you, she replied, careful to keep her human thoughts hidden.
You are no longer serving as tertiary adjunct to Unimatrix Zero One. You are serving me. You require a new designation. Your designation is no longer Seven of Nine. Your designation is Drone Zero One.
Seven fought back her human response, which was to yell that she served no one. A good drone did not reply unless it served a purpose, so she said nothing.
What is your designation? Garrett asked.
Drone Zero One.
Excellent, Drone Zero One. Seven could feel Garrett's satisfaction reverberate through the link. This will be your designation from now on. Then, Garrett turned to Zupanich and gestured to Chakotay. "Wake him."
Zupanich activated Chakotay's regeneration alcove, and Chakotay's eyes opened. Seven could feel him join the link as he became conscious, but his mind was a blank.
She heard Garrett tell Chakotay that his designation was Drone Zero Two, and had Chakotay repeat the designation back to him. Then Garrett turned back to Seven. Drone Zero One, what is the status of Drone Zero Two?
Drone Zero Two is functioning within acceptable parameters.
Garrett smiled at Zupanich. "I think they are ready for their first orders." He tapped his comm badge. "Commander Teral, do the secondary plasma manifolds still need to be repaired?"
"Yes, Admiral," Teral's voice came back over the comm. "I was going to assign Korilak and Benson to do it."
"That won't be necessary, Commander. I have just the repair team in mind. Garett out." He turned back to the doctor. "Now we'll see if you managed to program those nanoprobes correctly, wiping their personalities but maintaining all their technical knowledge."
Drone Zero One, Garrett's voice said, take Drone Zero Two to deck fifteen and repair the secondary plasma manifolds at junction 517 alpha. Seven provided Garrett with the mental acknowledgement that she had heard and understood the order, and she left the bay, Chakotay following close behind.
It was the first time she'd had free reign of the station since their arrival, and she was determined to make the most of it. She was certain that Garrett was watching them via video monitor, as well as monitoring their response to his orders through the connection he had to them via neural transceiver. Seven thought that Garrett's own desire to remain an individual while forcing others to exist in a subservient collective would be his undoing. Had he been willing to become a complete member of the collective himself, he would know her thoughts. This would be the fatal error in his plan, his desire to force upon others that which he was unwilling to undertake himself.
They appeared to be on a standard Federation starbase, although there was still no indication as to their exact location. Perhaps she would be able to gain more information once she accessed the station's computer. But she knew she had to bide her time. Losing Garrett's trust as soon as she had gained it would buy her nothing. She and Chakotay had to complete the task he had set for them as efficiently as possible. It was a menial task that could easily be completed by any station personnel; Seven knew it was a test.
She and Chakotay arrived at the secondary plasma manifolds and immediately set to work. They worked together seamlessly, moving around each other effortlessly, sharing each other's knowledge of the minor system and the best way to repair it. A small part of Seven felt nostalgia for the efficiency of the Borg Collective. But then she remembered how much had been lost in the subjugating of the individual to the collective, and she didn't feel so nostalgic anymore. The task was complete in under an hour, and she could feel through the neural interlink that Garrett was pleased. Drones Zero One and Zero Two, Garrett sent, your task is finished for today. Return to your alcoves and regenerate.
As they walked back to their regeneration alcoves, Seven glanced at Chakotay. He stared straight ahead as he walked, his expression vacant, and Seven felt a physical pain in her chest. He was a vibrant, intelligent man, and she could not bear to see him reduced to a mindless drone. Chakotay? she reached out to him.
But there was no response, no recognition of her at all, only a blank stare as he continued to walk through the corridor. Seven felt a cold fear settle in the pit of her stomach, and momentarily wished she truly possessed the Borg emotional detachment that she portrayed to Garrett. Deep within, she was desperately afraid that the Chakotay she knew was already gone forever.
"We are Borg," said the pale Chakotay-like drone. "You will be assimilated."
Kathryn watched in horror as a mechanical implant sprouted from the drone's cheek, and his hand reached for hers, assimilation tubules extending into her own hand…
"Captain? Captain, are you awake?"
Janeway's eyes snapped open, and she realized that the horrific images that still lingered in her mind's eye had been a dream. "I'm sorry, B'Elanna," she said. "I came back here to close my eyes for a minute. I guess I must have drifted off." She slid off the bunk.
"Are you all right, Captain?"
"Yes, I'm fine. Report."
"We've arrived at the coordinates you gave us."
"Have you detected large concentrations of tetryon particles?" Janeway asked as she fell into step beside Torres and they headed to the Delta Flyer's bridge.
"The region has several naturally occurring pockets of tetryon particles. This makes it a perfect hiding place for a cloaked vessel of some kind."
"For all we know, Garrett's secret base could be on a planet," Janeway said as she strode onto the bridge. On the view screen were several masses of tetryon particles.
"These are the concentrations of tetryon particles we have detected at close range," said Tuvok.
"Are any of them on the surface of a planet?" Janeway asked.
"No," Tuvok replied.
"So it must be a ship," Janeway said. "Run a tachyon sweep over those regions. That should help us differentiate the naturally occurring particles from ones generated by a cloaking field." Janeway's train of thought was interrupted by the beeping of a console.
"Tom, it's an incoming transmission," said Kim, "from your father."
"Shit! I was hoping we had another day or two," replied Paris. "Don't answer."
"He'll send out a search party if he thinks something happened to you," Janeway warned. "We knew this would happen eventually."
"We just need enough time to get Seven and Chakotay out of there without alerting anyone at Starfleet that might contact Admiral Garrett," said Kim.
"I can send back a garbled transmission," said B'Elanna. "It will look like we're trying to answer but that there's too much interference. We can send a subspace message telling him we got stuck in a plasma storm or something, and that we'll be home in a couple of days."
"Good idea," Paris agreed.
"We will not be 'home in a couple of days,'" Tuvok corrected them.
"I know that, Tuvok," replied Paris, "but once we have Chakotay and Seven back, I'll call my father and tell him everything."
"Once we can expose Admiral Garrett to the rest of the admiralty," Janeway added.
"I'm going to send the message," said B'Elanna. "Hopefully your dad will buy it."
Paris nodded. "Hopefully."
"Captain," said Tuvok, "I have isolated what appears to be a large cloaked mass. It is too large to be a vessel. I believe it is a cloaked space station."
"Any indication they've detected us?" Janeway asked.
"No, Captain. The large concentrations of tetryon particles make hiding the cloaked station easy, but they also make detecting approaching vessels more difficult."
"What about the status of their shields?"
"Their shields are down," said Tuvok.
"They don't know we're coming," murmured B'Elanna.
"Good," Janeway said. "Tom, move us closer to one of the concentrations of tetryon particles. That should mask our presence from the station's sensors."
"Aye, Captain." Tom slowly piloted the Flyer closer to the nearest concentration of tetryon particles.
"Can we transport from here?" Janeway asked.
"We are within range," replied Tuvok.
"Good. Tuvok, Torres, Doctor, you're with me. Ensign Kim and Lieutenant Paris, you'll remain aboard the Flyer." She paused. "Don't go anywhere, gentlemen. You're our only way out."
"We'll be here, Captain," said Paris.
"I suggest that we maintain radio silence once we have transported to the station," Tuvok said. "The station's sensors may pick up an unauthorized transmission."
"Agreed." Janeway looked at Paris and Kim. "We'll contact you once we have Chakotay and Seven, but you won't hear from us before then."
"Unless we're in big trouble," B'Elanna added wryly.
"Captain, the cloak prevents us from getting an accurate scan of the interior of the station," said Kim. "We won't know for sure if we're beaming you into a vacant area or not."
"We'll just have to take our chances, then, won't we?" Janeway replied, arming herself with a phaser rifle. Torres and Tuvok did the same.
Tom stepped closer to his wife and gave her a quick kiss. "Be safe," he whispered. "And bring Chakotay and Seven back safe, too."
"We will," B'Elanna replied, squeezing his hand before turning her full attention to the mission ahead.
"With the interference from the tetryon particles, the transport might take longer than usual," Kim warned.
Janeway nodded. "Energize."
Harry was right, the transport took longer than usual, but after a moment, Janeway, Tuvok, Torres and the Doctor found themselves in an unfamiliar corridor. Thankfully, it was deserted. Nevertheless, Janeway kept her phaser rifle at the ready, and pressed her back up against the corridor wall, listening intently for the sound of footsteps approaching. The corridor was silent. "Program your tricorders to dampen your biosignatures," Janeway ordered.
Tuvok flipped open his tricorder, and after following Janeway's order, he extended it to scan the area. "There are approximately a hundred and twenty life signs aboard the station," he said. "Mostly human." He paused. "One Romulan."
"Romulan?" Janeway asked. "That's interesting." Braxton hadn't said anything about Romulans, but maybe Garrett hadn't worked with the Romulans in the other timeline.
"I am picking up Seven of Nine's life sign," said the EMH, who also had a tricorder open.
Fortunately for them, Seven's unique combination of human and Borg physiology made her life sign easy to pick out among other humans. "Location?" Janeway asked.
"This way," the Doctor replied, gesturing down a corridor.
"I am also picking up a large concentration of Borg technology," said Tuvok, "in the opposite direction."
"We'll split up," Janeway said. "Doctor, you're with me. We'll go after Seven. Tuvok, Torres, check out the Borg technology." She paused. "If you encounter any Starfleet officer who has been turned into a drone, stun them. Don't kill them. I believe that with the research we've done, we'll be able to sever them from Garrett's collective and restore them to themselves."
"And what about Garrett's arsenal of Borg technology?" Torres asked. "Should we destroy it?"
"Only if you can be sure that destroying it won't prevent us from severing Garrett's drones from his collective. And only after making detailed documentation. I don't want to leave any doubt in Starfleet's mind about how evil Garrett really is."
Torres nodded. "Aye, Captain."
"We'll have to maintain communications silence," Janeway said, "or even the dampening fields that mask our bio-signatures won't prevent us from being detected." She looked at Tuvok and Torres. "Good luck."
"You, too, Captain," said Torres.
Torres and Tuvok set off in one direction and Janeway nodded to the Doctor. "Let's go."
"Tom, relax!" Harry admonished his friend, who was pacing back and forth across the Flyer's cockpit. "You're making me dizzy."
"Sorry." Tom flopped into the chair beside Harry. "You're lucky, Harry. No attachments, no wife and kid to worry about. Free as a bird."
"You don't mean that."
Tom shrugged. "Sure I do. Just look at how easy it was for you to get away. I had to lie to my father, leave my daughter light years away, and now…" Tom trailed off.
"You're worried about them," Harry said. "I understand."
The communications console in front of them beeped, and the two men shared a worried glance. But it wasn't a communication from the away team on the cloaked station. Harry looked at the message and then looked at Tom. "It's from your father. It's encrypted."
Tom sighed. "Play it back."
Admiral Owen Paris appeared on the view screen. "Tom, I received your message about the plasma storm. What's going on? The Flyer has deviated from the flight plan you filed, and no Federation ship has you on their sensors. And I don't think you took Ensign Kim or Voyager's EMH with you on a romantic trip with your wife. I don't appreciate being lied to, son. Or if you're in some kind of danger…" He paused. "I'm sending out a search party. Your mother and I love Miral but we don't want her to grow up without parents. I hope you're all right, son, that's all I can say, and that you receive this message."
Tom let out a long exhale. "Oh boy. He's mad."
"He's worried about you," Harry replied. "Just like you're worried about B'Elanna and Miral. Why didn't you just tell him the truth?"
"I couldn't risk word getting back to Starfleet Command. You heard what the captain said about Garrett, he could have eyes and ears anywhere."
"But surely you don't think that your dad…"
"No, of course not. But one of his aides? Someone passing in the hallway who overheard something? Nothing about this could be official, Harry, don't you understand?" Tom paused, grimacing at the view screen which was now showing the Starfleet emblem. "But a search party isn't exactly what I bargained for, either."
"Should we contact him now and tell him the truth?"
"We have to give Captain Janeway a little more time. By the time any search party arrives, hopefully we'll have irrefutable proof of Admiral Garrett's duplicity."
"Okay," Harry agreed reluctantly. He drummed his fingers against the console, hoping his decision to go along with Tom's unorthodox plan wasn't one he was going to regret.