The Ring

Chapter 8 - Allies

After another long day of sneaking up on people who didn't want to see her and avoiding people who did, Janeway was lying on the hard bed in her apartment, a lavender-scented mask over her eyes. Gretchen Janeway sat on the end of the bed, rubbing her daughter's feet with the same lavender scented oil from the robust lavender bushes that surrounded her house. She had come to drop off food and other comforting items, like the mask and oil, and plead again for a break from the incessant fight to exonerate the Maquis, for a few days in Indiana, recovering.

"Mother, how can you ask me to take a vacation when half my crew is still imprisoned out there somewhere?" Janeway had demanded.

More than the crew, who had seen their captain endure the unimaginable, Gretchen understood that her daughter in fact had a breaking point, and that she was closer to it than anyone else knew. As the weeks passed and she observed her daughter's physical debilitation – the weight loss, the constant anxiety – it became clear to hear that this situation was in many ways harder than anything Janeway had endured in the Delta quadrant. There, she'd had her whole crew behind her, and the security of a role she understood. Here, the whole meaning of her life was in question, and her dearest friends had been ripped from her.

Now, as she enforced a few moments of relaxation, Gretchen was encouraged to hear Janeway murmur: "This is making me feel human for the first time in weeks, Mother. The smell is amazing."

"Thank you, dear. My own products." Gretchen smiled as she considered how to slip a difficult question into the foot massage. There was something she needed to know. "Honey, I hate to have to ask this, but are you really sure?"

Janeway held up a corner of the mask to see the painful question in her mother's eyes. "About Chakotay, you mean? His innocence?"

Gretchen took a deep breath. This was very dangerous ground, if she wanted to maintain her daughter's trust. "I never met him, you see, dear. I have no way of knowing what sort of man he is. I know you don't want to consider the possibility that his confession – or some version of it – might be true, but I think you need to prepare yourself. Just in case." She was very afraid of what that blow, unanticipated, might do to her daughter.

Janeway dropped the mask back over her face. "Mother, he is my rock. He has been all these years. Nobody could fake that."

"Oh darling," Gretchen soothed, smoothing the joint of Janeway's left big toe, "I know he is. I've just been wondering if going ahead with the annulment might make things easier, while you're trying to clear the Maquis. You would look less compromised." Deep down, Gretchen's deep Starfleet heritage was warring with her desire to support her daughter in every possible way. This marriage to the criminal Janeway had been sent to capture was fundamentally incomprehensible.

Janeway sighed. "I understand all the arguments for it, Mother. I've thought it through many times. But I can't escape the fact that this is my husband. Whatever happens, I swore a vow to put him first and be loyal to him, the same as I took an oath when I joined Starfleet. And if those vows turn out to contradict each other, well…."

Gretchen waited for an end to that sentence.

"Well, I'll just figure that out when I have to," Janeway concluded.

Gretchen pulled her daughter's feet into her lap and hugged them. "Kathryn," she said. "You are an admiral's daughter, and you'd be an admiral yourself if there were any justice in the world. I have long experience in advising admirals on moral dilemmas. Here's what you're going to do, my girl. You're going to go on believing in your husband's innocence. He was coerced somehow. You're going to go on fighting for him. And he knows that you will. Somewhere out there, he's fighting for you, too, for your future together. But this will be harder than anything else you've done these past seven years. Through all of it, you had him. Now you have to be even stronger. You have to pick yourself up every day and remind yourself that you're a Janeway."

Under Gretchen's soothing hands and reassuring words, Janeway calmed and finally slept.

Gretchen levered herself off the bed and stood in the bedroom doorway for a moment. "Give them hell, sweetheart," she murmured.

#

When Janeway awoke, the room was dark and the heat had dissipated from the eye mask. Her feet were warm under the blanket her mother had spread on her before leaving. She pulled off the mask, staring up at the recessed lighting niche above the bed, and smiled a little at the memory of their conversation. Gretchen couldn't know – wouldn't know, if Janeway could prevent it – what Sveta's technology had proven just the day before. Now that Janeway had the Maquis technology, it was relatively simple to trace the energy signatures that proved where Chakotay had really been the night of the assassination. It was him. He had done it. Now she had to figure out what to do about it.

She was lying in the dark, contemplating her options and how this new knowledge would affect her actions, when she heard the front door slide shut. She was on her feet in an instant, back against the nearest wall, ready to throw the intruder to the floor when he stepped past her into the bedroom, but something tipped him off. He spun just as she lifted her arm to attack him and blocked her blow, throwing her weight past him to let her fall hard on the bed. She flipped over and lifted her legs to defend herself.

"Wait!" he exclaimed in a loud whisper, backing away in a defensive posture. "I'm a friend!"

Janeway jumped to her feet and examined his face. The man was tall, fit, and younger than she, with neat brown hair and light eyes. He reminded her a little of images of her father from his early Starfleet days. "I don't know you." She shook her head without changing her attack stance. "Who are you? What do you want?"

"I'm Commander Jack Lowry. I most recently served as captain of the Achilles."

The name was familiar. It had been in the news, but nothing like the way Janeway and her crew had been in the news. "You returned very recently, after Voyager."

"That's right."

"There was a story about you. It was your first mission as captain, and you made the decision while in command to spare a Cardassian ship that violated Federation air space in the vicinity of a top secret installation."

"That's also correct."

"Computer, lights," Janeway commanded. The bedroom lights came up slowly. As their eyes adjusted, she took in the face that had been featured on the usual sort of newsvid, chronicling a Starfleet review. "They thought you might be a Cardassian sympathizer. There was an investigation and you were demoted."

"All true – not that I was a Cardassian sympathizer, though. It was the accusation made when I refused to destroy a vessel carrying civilians. A split review panel concluded that my failure to engage was a sign of disloyalty to the Federation."

"Cardassians commonly use civilians as shields."

"There were children aboard, Captain. It would have been a violation of the rules of engagement."

"An old-fashioned concept," Janeway said, eyeing Lowry carefully as she circled around him toward the door.

"Perhaps I'm an old-fashioned officer." He too watched her carefully, as if preparing for another attack.

"What brings an old-fashioned officer sneaking into my apartment in the middle of the night, Commander?"

"There are things I needed to tell you, in person. I'm currently an attaché to Admiral Nechayev."

"Nechayev?" Janeway raised an eyebrow and pointed to the front door. "Get out. I congratulate you on your initiative for trying to get me to sign in my sleep, but I thought I'd made it perfectly clear that I'm not signing annulment papers. " She gave him her full glare and gestured again at the door.

He had the sense to back away, but he kept talking. "Yes, I think dislocating the last messenger's shoulder got the message across. You don't understand. I'm Captain Lebon's nephew. You talked to him a few weeks ago and he promised to try to help. He contacted me." Lowry paused and his face altered as a harsh memory moved across it. "Nechayev took me on as a rehabilitation project because she believes me to be a Cardassian sympathizer, but I promise you, I'm nothing of the sort. I'm here to try to help you. I know what Nechayev has been trying to do. What she's nearly succeeded in doing."

Janeway took a small step toward him. "Do you know what they've done with the Maquis? Can you confirm where they are?"

With this show of interest rather than aggression by Janeway, Lowry relaxed slightly from his defensive stance. "All I know is that they're off-planet already. They transported them almost immediately after the arrests. They're very afraid of your connections. That's why they're keeping your crew under lockdown on the planet this way. They don't want you taking off on a rescue mission. They're afraid you'd succeed."

Janeway's jaw set. "Who are 'they'? Nechayev and others?"

Lowry nodded. "Yes. She has several co-conspirators among the admiralty, including Bergen, as I'm sure you've already deduced. They were edged out of the nexus of power during the most recent Cardassian conflict because they had sided too vigorously with the Cardassians under the treaty. Now they want to restore their own power within the Federation, and at the same time rehabilitate the image of Cardassia. In return, the Cardassians will share control of lucrative trade routes closed down during the conflict. It's power and money they're after.

"Your early return with the integrated Maquis-Starfleet crew threatened all that. They've been using both Starfleet security clearances and close connections to the Galaxy news conglomerate to create and push out damaging propaganda about the Voyager crew. I need your help to get inside Galaxy to retrieve evidence that will expose what Nechayev has been doing to Voyager's crew, and why. We can broadcast it just like they've been broadcasting their false vids. We can show people what's really happening, how they produced the false evidence. It's the only way to exonerate you and your crew."

"I'm listening," said Janeway. "What do we do?"

Lowry walked to the table opposite the bed and put a hand on a chair. "May I?" he asked. "We have a lot to discuss."

Janeway crossed to the foot of the bed and put her hands on her hips. "Go ahead."

Lowry exhaled a sigh of relief, sank into the chair, and began to tell Janeway about his plan to infiltrate Galaxy. Gradually, as his ideas became more specific, including details that would incriminate him if she repeated them, she sank onto the edge of the bed, relaxing enough to ask questions. The conversation lasted hours. By the end, they were facing each other on the couch in her living space and laughing over cups of freshly brewed coffee about some of Nechayev's more absurdly diabolical remarks. At daybreak, Lowry beamed himself back out with an encoded pattern dispersed across the transport network, untraceable by any known method. Janeway sat back against the cushions and watched the sunrise, smiling for the first time in weeks.

#

When Tom, and Harry jogged up the steps of Gretchen Janeway's farmhouse several days later, responding to Janeway's summons, Jack Lowry opened the door. Tom and Harry stopped short. "Who are you?" both demanded in unison.

Janeway emerged from behind the door, laughing at them, a sound they hadn't heard in months. They stared.

"Get inside, gentlemen," she ordered, and made sure the door was firmly shut before speaking again, now with Lowry at her side in the same protective stance Chakotay used to take. "Tom, Harry, meet Jack," she said, putting a hand on Lowry's arm as she introduced her crewmen. "This is Captain Jack Lowry, Admiral Nechayev's attaché. We've been working together to plan a raid on the Galaxy News headquarters for evidence to clear the whole crew. We need your help."

Tom and Harry exchanged an uncomfortable glance but said nothing as Janeway and Lowry led the way toward the kitchen. Gretchen emerged with welcomes and led them all into the big kitchen and the long table in front of the rear windows overlooking the orchard.

"I know we've only met a few times, but you feel like family," Gretchen said, pulling Tom, then Harry, into a warm hug. "I'm so glad Jack convinced Kathryn that this is the safest place to meet. At least here I can take care of all of you."

Lowry and Janeway had already picked up plates and cutlery and begun to distribute them down a table. Tom put a hand on Gretchen's arm as she turned back toward the kitchen. "So they've been staying here?" he asked.

Gretchen nodded. "Just the last few days, for security. He comes and goes to work, of course, all very cloak and dagger, scrambled transport signals, that sort of thing." Her eyes twinkled in just the same way Janeway's did when she had a plan. "Doesn't she look better? He's doing the world of good for her."

"He? Lowry?" Harry clarified, his head swiveling between Tom and Gretchen.

Gretchen nodded and wiped at her eyes. "I know that she has to take care of her crew, but after what that Maquis did to her, I'm just glad that Jack came along to help her recover. She wasn't listening to me."

Tom took Gretchen by the arm and gently led her away from the kitchen doorway. "What that Maquis did to her? You mean Chakotay?" he prompted, keeping an eye on the kitchen to be sure they weren't overheard.

"Why yes! I know that the newsvids are all false, but there was his statement, and to have – well, she won't hear a word against him and I respect that, but Starfleet itself says that his biosigns prove that he killed Owen!" She looked at Tom expectantly, waiting for him to agree.

"No, Gretchen," Tom shook his head and gripped Gretchen by both arms. "He's been set up. I know Chakotay as well as I know Harry here, and neither of them would murder my father. Not for any reason. Starfleet is handing out this garbage about him betraying Janeway and none of us believe it for a minute. He loves her, more than anything, and he's loyal to this crew to his dying breath. You have to know that."

Gretchen's eyes moved to Harry, who moved close to them and nodded. "Absolutely true, Mrs. Janeway. We served with them for seven years and we were both at their wedding. Chakotay may not be the perfect Starfleet officer, but there's no way he did what they say he did. We just have to prove it."

Slowly, Gretchen looked back toward the table. Lowry's and Janeway's voices merged in a low hum of conversation, the sound Gretchen had heard day and night the last few days, a lively, engaged noise that had greatly reassured her.

#

As Tom and Harry leaned back from the table after a very satisfying meal, Lowry pulled up what looked like a set of blueprints on the screen that occupied one wall of the kitchen. He began tracing a line with his finger. "If we come this way," he was telling Janeway, who had leaned in beside him, "I think we have a shot at accessing their communications equipment without being seen. I'm sure they're covering their tracks carefully, but if we can trace the transmission of Starfleet security video and download the partially altered images from the editing process, we should be able to prove how this was done and who's responsible."

"What is that place?" Harry asked, standing to get a better look.

"Galaxy News corporate headquarters in southern California," Janeway answered. "They're the ones who've been producing the fake and bootlegged newsvids about the crew. If we can find the Starfleet source and collect enough evidence for a court martial, we can stop the persecution of the crew. We can have Nechayev and Bergen and their co-conspirators arrested." Her eyes were lit up with hope as they hadn't been for weeks. Tom and Harry turned to each other when her enthusiasm fixed on Lowry. Both lowered their chins as they observed the eager smile he returned.

The door chime rang and Janeway and Gretchen hurried to welcome several more members of the crew, who'd volunteered to help with the raid. In the momentary pause, left alone in the kitchen, Harry and Tom flanked Lowry in front of the screen.

"So," Tom said, looking Lowry up and down, "you're just a good Samaritan, huh? Helping us out with no thought of reward?"

Lowry looked away from Tom to see Harry, arms folded, looking hostile on his other side. "Hey, guys," he said, holding his hands out in a gesture of innocence, "I know all this is making everyone paranoid, but I'm on your side. I thought I proved it when I stole Nechayev's security codes. I could lose my commission for that."

"About that," Harry said. "In a way, it makes me more suspicious. Who would take that kind of risk for a bunch of strangers, unless he knew he was safe because he was in on the conspiracy against us?"

Tom nodded. "There's that, plus I don't like the way he looks at the captain." He said to Harry, mirroring his friend's crossed arms and scowl. He looked back to Lowry. "She's married, you know, and Chakotay's one of our best friends."

Lowry eyed both men and rubbed his mouth. "I got the sense that people aren't too sure where Chakotay's loyalties lie."

Tom stepped up so close to Lowry's left side that he could lean in and speak directly in the man's ear. "Let me be blunt. Someone framed Chakotay for my father's murder. Somewhere out there, Starfleet or possibly somebody much worse has my wife, my infant daughter, and some of my best friends, including Chakotay, locked up. I'm willing to work with anybody who will help me rescue them. Anybody who gets in my way, I will kill, without a second thought. Do we understand each other?"

Lowry swallowed and nodded. "Did you have some kind of test of loyalty in mind?"

"I do, as a matter of fact," Tom said. "That raid on Galaxy looks like a one man job to me. You don't want a bunch of commandos running around a civilian news agency. You want one guy dressed like he belongs there. You bring us out what we need, and then we'll figure you're on the up and up."

Lowry hesitated. "I'd imagined it as several people at different check points, making sure we weren't followed, giving warnings. Your way is more dangerous."

"For you," Harry concluded. "If you are what you claim to be. But you're a high-ranking Starfleet officer. What does danger mean to you?"

Lowry glared back. "I don't court it unnecessarily, if that's what you mean. But you may be right. More people on the inside are more people to get caught. We should only risk one person, and I'm happy to volunteer. I want this conspiracy exposed as much as anyone. You're forgetting that I'm trying to win back my reputation too."

"Good," Tom answered. "Just one more thing."

"What's that?" Lowry asked, his apprehension obvious.

"You have to sell it to the captain, and you'd better be good."

#

That afternoon, Lowry managed to get Janeway alone long enough to persuade her to take a walk with him out behind the farmstead, on the winding path toward the creek.

"I managed to convince Harry and Tom that the only way to do the Galaxy raid is as a one-man operation," he said as they came around the first bend. "The only person who still needs to agree is you."

She threw him a swift, suspicious look. "You discussed it with them before you came to me?"

"You were busy mapping emergency exits. It's the obvious answer. If one of us gets caught, especially if it's me, you have plausible deniability, and the rest of the crew can try again. You won't be tainted. If there are more, well – we'd be risking too much on one operation. Starfleet is already monitoring the crew's movements. You need to keep clean. That's why we're here – it's less suspicious when family is involved."

"I suppose," Janeway answered. "Yes, you're right. But I don't like putting any single member of my team in so much danger. We'll monitor you every minute, and pull you out if there's any sign that the mission has been compromised. Understood?"

"Of course," Lowry said, settling a hand in the small of her back. They'd walked this way several times as they made their plans over the last few days, talking over what he'd learned through cautious investigations into Nechayev's database and pulling the strings of the conspiracy with Cardassian business interests.

"Don't you think?" Janeway asked again, when he didn't answer. Lowry glanced up, torn from his own wandering thoughts. He'd lost whatever she'd said.

"Don't I think what?" he said, stopping in the middle of the path.

"Don't you think they'll have to release all the Maquis immediately, if we can show that the vids were faked? After all, that's the basis of their claim of mass conspiracy, isn't it? That the Maquis were just biding their time until they could get back to Federation space and launch an assassination campaign?"

"I suppose," Lowry answered, then shrugged. "I don't know. The fake vids don't explain the scrambled readings on the sensor grid the night of the assassination. Don't you think it's just vaguely possible that his confession was real, Kathryn? You talk about him as a man of great integrity, and it occurs to me that a man of great integrity might have commitments to keep that you know nothing about."

Janeway froze. In her face, he read one emotion after another chase by, on wings, even as she struggled to control them. Finally, she said, "We've been to hell and back together, he and I. If he were going to betray me, he certainly had better" – and she paused again. She turned away from Lowry to stare through the trunks of the old cottonwoods that grew near the river. "I will rescue them first, and worry about what happened later." She bowed her head and covered her eyes with one hand.

A strong arm stole around her, warm and comforting, and pulled her a few steps down the path to a low stone bench. Lowry helped her sit and pulled her close under his arm, stroking her cheek and crooning to her as her head rested on his chest. "Shh, Kathryn," he murmured. "It will be okay. I'll be with you, no matter what happens."

A few tears had escaped and she brushed them away in one quick movement, then raised her head to look at him, trying to find the words to apologize for her loss of control. He gave her no chance. When her face came up, his lips came down on hers, eager and probing. She was so surprised and disoriented by the undeniably pleasant sensation that it took her a moment to push a hand into his chest and twist away from him. "No, Jack!" She gasped in air and scooted out from under his arm. "I didn't mean to give you the idea that I – Jack, I'm a married woman, in spite of everything. I love my husband."

Lowry took a deep breath and straightened his shirt. "I know. I'm sorry. It won't happen again. Not unless you want it to." His eyes connected with hers and she looked away. She rose and hurried away toward the house.