Bent Not Broken

Source Episode: VOY 2x21 Deadlock

After eighty weeks of pregnancy, Sam Wildman went into labor during a lunch break.

Normally, alpha shift ended at 1600 hours. From there, beta shift would take over, and either Tom or Harry would be in charge of the bridge until zero hour. But once the news spread about Sam's condition, none of us wanted to leave until we had our biggest question answered—

Who won the betting pool for time and birthweight of baby Wildman?

That was why, even as the chronometer hit 1930 hours, we were all at our stations doing anything productive we could think of to occupy time. I remodulated every sensor on Voyager. Captain Janeway paced the bridge. I honestly don't know what everyone else did. By the time someone broke the silence, I was optimizing star charts with data far beyond what they would ever need.

Tom let out a frustrated sigh. "Oh, this is ridiculous. How long does it take to deliver a baby?"

"Only a baby of the family would ask that," I teased.

Janeway smiled. "As long as it takes, Mister Paris."

"Indeed," Tuvok agreed. "During the birth of our third child, my wife was in labor for ninety-six hours."

Harry's eyes bulged. "Four days?"

"I have learned that pregnancy and patience go hand in hand."

I shuddered, suddenly feeling a new respect for my own mother.

"You know," Chakotay admitted, "I didn't expect to be this nervous. It's not even my child."

"In a way, this child belongs to all of us," the captain said. "It is the first baby born on Voyager." Finally settling into her command chair, Janeway looked to the man seated beside her. "I'm just not sure whether I should be welcoming it on board, or apologizing."

Chakotay frowned. "Captain?"

"Voyager isn't exactly anyone's idea of a nursery, and the Delta Quadrant isn't much of a playground."

"My father had a saying. 'Home is wherever you happen to be.'"

Janeway's face lit up with a wide smile, which Chakotay mirrored.

I smiled, as well, encouraged by the apparent strengthening of the bond between our command team. Out of respect, I returned my eyes to the science console. Living on Voyager was like being inside a fishbowl, and—although I had no data to support my hypothesis—I was convinced that the strength of the effect was directly correlated to rank. Any little moment I could give them was a gift.

Tuvok abruptly ended their moment. "Captain, long-range sensors are picking up heavy subspace communications ahead. They're Vidiian."

"All stop. A ship?"

I scrambled to generate my own sensor readings.

"At least twenty ships within sensor range," Tuvok confirmed.

"Captain," I added, "I've got a type-G star system with two inhabited planets—all lifesigns are Vidiian."

"Sounds like we're headed right into their territory," Chakotay said.

"And I'm in no mood to donate any organs today," Janeway quipped. "Options?"

"Tom," I said, "take a look at the plasma drift, coordinates four-zero mark seven. The interference should hide us from their sensors. Think it's doable?"

Tom tapped the coordinates into his console and nodded. "I see it. The drift extends almost half the length of this sector. Should get us past their system safely."

Janeway nodded. "Good thinking. Mister Paris, lay in a course at full impulse. Mister Tuvok, deflectors at maximum."

I took full advantage of the opportunity to perform scans and gather data about the plasma drift. It was quite unique, and I knew that many of my staff would be thrilled to study this data. It would keep them busy for months.

At subwarp speed, it took a while to detour around the Vidiian star system. After almost two hours of flying, Tom announced that we were past danger.

"Take us out of the plasma drift," Janeway ordered, "and resume our previous course."

A moment later, Voyager shook hard.

"What was that?" the captain asked.

"We hit some kind of subspace turbulence as we were coming out of the plasma drift," I said. "I can't tell if—"

Before I could finish, power bled out of Voyager's systems like a gushing headwound. Lights around the bridge cut off and on, and my console flickered as it struggled to work through the energy shortage.

"What the hell?" Tom swore. "Captain, the warp engines just stalled."

"Go to impulse."

"Impulse engines aren't responding. Maneuvering thrusters are out, too."

"We're losing main power," Harry said. "Switching to backup."

"Red alert," Janeway called. "Bridge to engineering. Report."

"Our antimatter supply is being drained, Captain," B'Elanna answered. "I don't know why. The containment fields are in place. It's like we sprung a leak, but I can't find the crack."

Janeway stood and paced across the dais. "Try infusing the warp core with repeated proton bursts. That should be enough to keep it going."

"Aye, Captain."

For a few seconds, the bridge was relatively quiet. Then, Voyager lurched, throwing several crew to the deck.

Chakotay gripped the arms of his chair. "What was that?"

"It appeared to be a proton burst," Tuvok said.

"Already?" Janeway crossed back towards her chair. "Bridge to Torres, report."

No answer came.

Taking her seat, the captain leaned over the armrest to study her console. "Engineering, respond."

Harry took charge of the eerie silence. "Captain, three EPS conduits just ruptured in engineering. They took heavy casualties."

On and on the chaos continued. Janeway and Chakotay oversaw the situation from the command console between their chairs. Harry announced one system failure after another. I became a comm relay of sorts, informing damage control teams of danger areas and alerting sickbay of incoming wounded. Tom fussed over the engines and navigational sensors. Tuvok kept a close watch over our failing hull integrity.

Then the comm chirped.

"Torres to bridge! We're definitely being—" B'Elanna grunted, which was followed by the sound of debris crashing to the deck. "We're definitely being hit by proton bursts, but I don't know where they're coming from. I never even started the procedure."

"She's right," Harry confirmed. "The main sensor array is offline. Not a single burst was fired."

"But according to my readings," I said, "the bursts are coming from inside the ship."

"Captain," Tuvok interjected, "these bursts are weakening the structural integrity of the hull. We cannot take any more."

Rising from her seat, Janeway stepped around the center dais to oversee the aft stations. "Can we increase power to structural reinforcement?"

Harry shook his head. "Our antimatter supply is too low. There's just not enough power to go—"

The dreadful hum of another plasma burst sounded just before more quakes shook our flailing ship.

Harry braced himself on the ops console. "Hull breach on deck fifteen, section twenty nine alpha. Emergency force fields are offline." He paused. "Captain, I've been working on a way to enhance our portable forcefield generators. It might be enough to seal that breach."

"Go."

In my periphery, Chakotay rounded the dais to take ops in Harry's absence.

Meanwhile, I kept at my calculations until I'd explored every possible source of our problem. "Captain, I've analysed the bursts on all spectral frequencies. There's still no indication of where they're coming from."

"At this point," she snapped, "I don't give a damn where they're coming from. I just want to stop them."

Guilt ran cold through my veins. I glanced at Janeway, who was looking over Chakotay's shoulder.

"Do we have enough auxiliary power to magnetize the hull?" she asked him. "It might cushion the impact of the bursts."

He nodded. "We have just barely enough."

"Give it a try."

As Chakotay worked, another proton burst rocked the ship. My console alerted me to the damage. Time to be a comm relay again, except—

"Captain, a power conduit just ruptured on deck fifteen, section twenty nine." I glanced up to meet the captain's eyes. "That's right over the hull breach Harry, B'Elanna, and Hogan are attempting to secure."

She nodded and tapped her combadge. "Janeway to B'Elanna, report."

"Hogan is injured," came the response. "Harry's working to seal the breach now."

"Keep me informed. Janeway out."

Turning back to my console, I closed my eyes and breathed a small sigh of relief. Then, I returned to my duties. No fires had broken out on deck fifteen, and no one else was near the conduit. As for Hogan, I awaited B'Elanna's next report.

It came a few minutes later. "Torres to bridge. Lieutenant Kim is dead. Kes just disappeared."

Even as the shock sliced through me, severing the connection between mind and body, I could hear Janeway's voice behind me. "Disappeared?"

"I can't explain it. She just vanished. There seems to be some kind of spatial rift right where she disappeared."

"Can you determine where it leads?"

"Stand by, bridge."

There was a pause on the comm, which my mind filled with the memory of B'Elanna's voice. "Lieutenant Kim is dead. Lieutenant Kim is dead. Lieutenant Kim is—"

"I just threw a piece of conduit into the rift," B'Elanna said. "Just as it vanished, I detected another oxygen nitrogen atmosphere. Whatever's on the other side of that rift, there's air. Maybe Kes is still alive."

Another proton burst hit, but I barely felt it. I was numb. My hands braced the console and my elbows absorbed the shock, but my senses had dulled almost entirely.

Janeway ordered an evacuation of deck fifteen. I needed to comm sickbay so they knew to expect Hogan, but I could barely move or speak.

"Lieutenant Kim is dead." B'Elanna's voice echoed like the memory of a dream. I closed my eyes. A dream. That's what it was—a very bad dream. It was senseless, like a dream would be. Harry had been just fine after the power conduit blew. Hogan was injured, but no one died. Therefore, B'Elanna's words must not have been real.

It was a ridiculously blatant lie, but it worked well enough. I dragged my finger to the comm and let Schmullis know that B'Elanna was on her way with Hogan.

When Voyager lurched again, the sound of a body hitting the deck snapped me all the way back to reality. I turned just as Janeway got to her feet.

"Chakotay!" she shouted.

"I've got alignment. Magnetizing."

A groan reverberated across the hull, then silence fell. No one spoke for a long moment, waiting for the next onslaught. Nothing happened.

"I think it worked," Chakotay said.

"Let's hope so." Releasing her grip on the railing, Janeway strode across the dais to take her command chair once more. "I want a full damage report from all decks."

"Lieutenant Kim is dead," my mind supplied. I shook my head, refusing to accept it, and transferred an itemized damage list to ops.

Chakotay began to read through the reports being sent to his console from all over Voyager. "The hull breach on deck fifteen has widened to include deck fourteen, section twelve, and there are six hundred thirty-two microfractures along the hull. All primary systems are offline, and we're running on emergency power. The antimatter supply is at eighteen percent and falling. Warp coils in both nacelles have fused. Environmental control systems are failing. Fifteen crew members have suffered severe plasma burns, and twenty seven experienced other injuries. Dr. Schmullis is setting up triage facilities in sickbay and holodeck two. And—" He stopped cold. The color drained from his face. "Ensign Wildman's baby didn't make it."

Janeway's next orders were forced through gritted teeth. "I want an engineering team to seal those micro-fractures before they become breaches. Mister Paris, grab a medical tricorder and go assist the doctor."

"Right."

"Miss Eelo, go with Paris to sickbay and see to Ensign Wildman."

I nodded and got to my feet. "Yes, Captain."

The turbolift doors had barely closed in front of us when Tom ventured a quiet, "Tal—"

"Don't," I ground out, and glared straight ahead.

The magnets hummed to life around us as the car began to move. I heard Tom's sharp intake of breath and prepared for the coming sympathy.

Instead, all noise was overwhelmed by the sound of a proton burst. Tom and I flattened against the wall, but the jolt still threw us to the deck. The turbolift car paused briefly to realign itself before carrying onward towards deck five.

Tom wrapped his hands around my shoulders to help me up, but I pressed my palms into the carpet. Why bother? In thirty seconds, the next burst would hit and I'd be on my knees again. There was absolutely no point in it.

Samantha had just lost her baby. She needed me. Voyager needed me.

Drawing in a deep, shaking breath, I let Tom guide me to my feet and refused to think of anything but my duty.

By the time I arrived in sickbay, Dr. Schmullis had gotten bad news from the bridge. Deck one breached and had to be evacuated. It was sealed off from the rest of Voyager by emergency bulkheads, and I wondered if we were ever going to see that deck again. The bridge crew was headed to main engineering to set up a command center.

Upon being relieved of sickbay duties, Tom and I joined them.

Due to the extensive damage, the lack of power, and the continued proton bursts, command protocols still hadn't been transferred to engineering when we arrived. Their first order of business had been to remagnetize the hull. Once that was done, Chakotay had to keep a close watch to ensure it didn't depolarize again. Janeway assisted Chakotay, who was wiping soot and sweat away from his eyes. Tuvok was nowhere in sight.

As Tom split off to help Chakotay, Janeway directed me to an alcove of consoles that B'Elanna had prepared for bridge functions. All she needed was a command-qualified officer to assist her with the transfer.

There were eight officers with command qualifications—Captain Janeway, Chakotay, Tuvok, me, Tom, Harry, Mike Ayala, and Joe Carey. Joe had been injured by the initial proton burst. Mike had been off-duty, and took charge of damage control teams after the first wave of overloads. Janeway had sent Tuvok to ensure all evacuated areas were secure.

If Harry had been alive, he would have been working with B'Elanna. With his command qualifications, they would already be well under way.

Fists clenched, I forced that hammering thought out of my mind.

B'Elanna glanced up, lips parting over gritted teeth. She probably meant to criticize me for taking so long, but when she saw my face, she froze. Her expression softened, allowing the pain beneath her hard exterior to seep through.

She'd watched her best friend get blown into space through a hull breach. Her trauma could potentially be even worse than my own. Yet she pressed onward.

Taking a deep breath, I forced my feet to move.

With my authorization code, the command transfer went quickly. Consoles around the alcove reoriented to display the primary bridge controls—command, helm, operations, and tactical. Just as B'Elanna announced to the captain that the transfer was complete, a shrill screech whistled through the com system.

Janeway swiveled towards us. "What is that?"

I rolled my stool from the helm to command.

Beside me, B'Elanna searched her ops controls. "I don't know. Some kind of comm emission coming through all subspace bands."

"Coming from where?"

"Good question. I can't tell, but it's got a Federation signature."

Janeway strode towards us, eyes wide. "Try recalibrating our frequency carrier to match it."

The captain and I crowded over B'Elanna's shoulder as she entered equations into the computer. Once she finished, she sat back and waited to see what would happen next.

Within thirty seconds, a numeric code appeared on her console.

I gasped. "That's the emergency code."

"Run it through an alphanumeric sequencer," Janeway commanded.

The numbers transformed into large block letters. EMERGENCY TRANSMISSION: LOCK 12 GIGAHER.

"I think someone's telling us to lock onto a frequency of twelve gigahertz," B'Elanna said.

Janeway nodded. "Do it."

Behind us, the small viewscreen above helm control activated, but it only showed static. B'Elanna set to clearing up the comlink, and the image of Captain Janeway appeared. Unlike the captain standing beside me, this Janeway's brown bun was neat and in tact. She was clean of sweat and grime, nor did she sport the bruised and blood-caked cut that marred my captain's cheek.

"Captain," the woman on the comm said, "this isn't an illusion. What you're seeing is real, but it's going to take some explaining."

My captain crossed her arms. "I'm listening."

"Do you recall reading about an experiment at Kent State University in which quantum theorists duplicated a single particle of matter using a divergence of subspace fields?"

"Yes," the captain said. "The spatial scission experiment."

"What if I told you that the same forces were at work inside of the plasma drift, and that the turbulence you encountered as you left the cloud was, in fact, a large subspace divergence field?"

I frowned. "Are you saying that the turbulence we snagged on actually duplicated all matter on Voyager?"

"That is exactly what I'm saying, Commander."

"How did you come to this conclusion?" my Janeway asked.

"A little over two hours ago, our crew discovered Kes unconscious on deck fifteen. Beside her was a piece of damaged conduit from section twenty nine alpha, bulkhead zero five two. But we already had our own Kes in sickbay assisting Dr. Schmullis with the delivery and postnatal care of Ensign Wildman's baby. Beyond that, there was no damage to deck fifteen. That conduit was—and still is—in tact."

I exchanged a weighty look with B'Elanna. If there was no damage, their Harry must still be alive.

The other Janeway continued. "My Lieutenant Commander Eelo ran a quantum level analysis of our sensor logs from the cloud and discovered that, at the moment Voyager passed through the divergence field, all of our sensor readings doubled. Every particle of matter was duplicated instantly and now occupies the same point in space-time due to a slight phase variance. But, just like the experiment, the antimatter could not be duplicated."

"That would explain our antimatter drain," B'Elanna pointed out. "Both engines have been trying to draw power from a single source of antimatter."

"Exactly," the other Janeway confirmed.

"When you noticed the antimatter leak," I asked, "did you try to compensate for it by generating a series of—"

"Proton bursts," she confirmed. "Yes, that is where our experiences diverge. Evidently, we were slightly quicker to initiate that procedure."

"That's why my sensors seemed to think they were coming from inside the ship." I looked at my captain, a sense of vindication lifting my pagh just a little. Even in the midst of a horrible crisis, I'd been on the right track. Given more time, I could have figured out the problem. My counterpart seemed to have been a big help in the discovery made by the alternate Voyager.

I was, finally, a worthy science officer.

My brief moment of pride was undercut by the desire to gush to Harry about my accomplishment. It had become instinct to share such things with him—to share myself with him. He'd known all about my insecurities surrounding the job and was always a source of encouragement for me. His faith in my abilities never wavered once.

My eyes pricked with tears that I didn't think I could fight. Turning my back to the viewscreen, I bit my trembling lip and squeezed my eyes shut. B'Elanna's hand settled on my arm, and I grabbed it for support.

Behind me, I could hear my captain testing the alternate Janeway for knowledge that would confirm her identity. The other Janeway knew the circumstances surrounding Harry's and baby Wildman's deaths, although both were unharmed on her ship. She even detailed a story from her own adolescence—one that she'd have been hard-pressed to know about if she were an alien in disguise. It all made sense. There were two Voyagers, but there was one big problem.

In the original Kent State experiment, the duplicate particles of matter were unable to exist at the same point in space-time for more than a few minutes before breaking down at the quantum level. There were two Voyagers, but only one could survive.

By this point, I'd regained my composure and the rest of the senior staff had crowded into the alcove. My Janeway's face was tight and her lips were pressed into a thin line. She didn't need to say anything. We all knew what she intended to do.

"You're going to destroy your ship," the other Janeway said.

"What makes you say that?" asked mine.

"Because that's what I would do if your Voyager were intact and my Voyager were crippled, my crew wounded or dead." Empathy softened her gaze. "I'd sacrifice my ship so that yours could survive."

"Then I'm glad we agree," my Janeway said.

The other Janeway's gaze hardened again. "I didn't say I agree. I said I understand. I'm not willing to let you make that sacrifice yet. We haven't explored all the options."

"Yes we have, and we both know it."

"Captain," the other Janeway said, "give me fifteen minutes to come up with another solution. After that, it's your decision."

My captain nodded. "Fifteen minutes. Good luck."

"To both of us."

Once our time was up, we reestablished the comlink with the alternate Voyager only to learn that both crews hit dead ends. Recombining the ships wasn't an option, nor could we separate them and split the antimatter. Evacuating our crew to the undamaged Voyager would throw off the atomic balance and destroy us all.

Soon, my captain would talk her counterpart into accepting the inescapable truth—our Voyager had to be destroyed. I awaited that moment with a sort of peace and clarity that had been ripped from me just a few hours ago when I lost Harry.

In a way, I was right to think of my experience as unreal. Their Voyager had beaten us to the punch for initiating the proton bursts most likely because they were the original. I hadn't lost Harry, but a copy of him, because he and I were both quantum duplicates of the other Harry and Talia. I wasn't real. I was the bad dream.

That dream was about to end. No deaths, no traumas, no broken-down ship. Just another strange anomaly in the Delta Quadrant.

Still the original Captain Janeway continued to fight it. "What if we try to realign the phase displacement between us?"

"We don't have time to try it," my Janeway argued. "There's barely enough antimatter to sustain us both, and you still need to get to a safe place where you can find dilithium before you run out. My plan is the only one that's going to work. It's time that we both accept that."

The other Janeway sighed. "Kathryn—"

"Captain," their Harry interjected, "I've got a vessel approaching at bearing zero-zero-five mark three-one-eight. They've just dropped out of warp."

The sound of his voice was jarring.

"It's Vidiian."

Blood drained from my face. No! We'd been so close. The dream was nearly at an end.

Suddenly it had become a nightmare.

"Shields?" my captain asked.

"Still off-line," B'Elanna replied.

"Captain," Janeway said to her counterpart, "Do you have weapons?"

The other Janeway turned towards tactical, and Tuvok answered for her. "Negative, Captain. We had to reroute power to compensate for the antimatter loss. It would take several hours to bring weapons back online."

"Captain," I said, calling the attention of both Janeways to me. "Our sensors couldn't detect the Vidiian vessel until I recalibrated them to compensate for our quantum phase variance. It's possible they don't see us... just the other Voyager."

Before either could respond, the other Tuvok announced that the Vidiian ship had fired an energy weapon.

"All hands," both captains said, "brace for impact."

We gripped our consoles hard, but nothing happened.

"Comlink just went down," B'Elanna reported.

"Try to get it back," Janeway ordered. "What happened? They couldn't have missed."

Chakotay looked at me. "I think Talia's right. They must have hit the other Voyager." He glanced over to B'Elanna. "Could we take the same recalibration technique Talia used on our sensors and apply it to the comm signal?"

B'Elanna accessed my sensor logs and considered the modifications. "It might work."

"Give it a try."

Soon, she had reestablished the link. The other Voyager's bridge was still undamaged, and her captain's bun was still coiled tightly in place. Aside from the flashing red alert lights, it seemed unphased.

Appearance was, in this case, quite deceptive.

"What's happening over there?" my Janeway asked.

"We've been boarded," the other Janeway replied. "The Vidiians are on the verge of taking over our ship. Are they on yours?"

"No. We don't think they can detect our ship. We can have a security detachment cross the spatial rift and board your ship within five minutes."

The other Janeway shook her head. "No. If we do that, the Vidiians might become aware of your Voyager. That would put both ships at risk."

"We can't just stand by and let you all be killed."

"I'm not about to let that happen." She jutted out her chin. "I'm going to adapt your plan and destroy this ship. The blast should take out the Vidiian vessel as well. With us gone, your Voyager should snap into phase with our quantum reality, and you can carry on for both of us."

My Janeway pursed her lips. "I don't suppose there's any way I can change your mind. I know how stubborn you can be."

The other captain quirked her lips. "True. But there is something else I can do for you. We were able to rig a portable phase discriminator to send your Kes back through the rift safely. I'm going to send Harry Kim and Ensign Wildman's baby along with her. Somehow, it seems only fair."

I let out a breath that I didn't realize I'd been holding.

"We'll be waiting for them," my Janeway confirmed.

"Just make me a promise, Kathryn. Get your crew home."

"I will."

Counselor's Log: Stardate 49548.7

The alternate Captain Janeway's plan went just as she said. Kes, Harry, and baby Wildman all came safely through the rift on deck fifteen shortly before the other Voyager self-destructed. The Vidiian ship was destroyed and our Voyager snapped into phase with the rest of our universe.

Duplicate or not, we are the only Voyager now.

Sam was overjoyed when Harry handed her a squirming half-Ktarian baby girl, alive and in perfect health. Still, it won't erase the grief she experienced over losing her own baby—much like how Harry's arrival won't change the fact that we senselessly lost his counterpart here. It's going to take time to recover from this incident... for all of us.

"Deck four," I instructed the computer after stepping onto the turbolift.

"Hold the lift!" Harry's voice carried down the corridor.

"Belay that," I said. The computer chirped its acknowledgement.

A moment later, Harry and Janeway paused just shy of the threshold. "After you, Captain," Harry offered, gesturing towards the lift.

Janeway glanced from Harry to me and back again. "You know what, Lieutenant? I think I left something behind in sickbay. I'll catch the next one." She gave his shoulder a squeeze and went back the way she came.

Harry frowned. "Did that seem suspicious to you?"

"Highly."

He nodded and stepped into the lift. "Glad it wasn't just me. You headed to engineering?"

I shook my head. "Quarters. I'm wiped. You?"

"I don't know. Captain told me to take the day off, but... I'm not really sure what to do."

It was disconcerting being there right next to him. An hour ago, he was dead and I was about to die, too. But now he was here, and either everything in the divergence field had been a nightmare or the present moment was a dream that was too good to last for long. There was no way any of it could be real. I didn't belong in the same space he occupied.

Given the aimless look on his face as he stared at the gaping turbolift door, he felt the same way.

"Computer, close turbolift and hold," I said. The door slid shut and the car shifted sideways into a holding slot so we wouldn't block other cars.

If this was a dream, I wasn't about to waste it.

Stepping closer to him, I pushed his hair back from his face, cupped his cheek, and captured his lips with mine. He relaxed easily into the kiss, circling his arms around my waist and pulling me close.

He felt real. He was real.

Hot tears sprang from my eyes, soaking our cheeks and salting our lips. Soon I had to break away just to breathe, and a sob escaped my lips. "You were dead."

"I abandoned you to die," he murmured, voice trembling beneath the weight of his own tears. "I'm so sorry."

"So am I."

"I don't know how to deal with this."

"Me, neither." I ran my hands down his neck and over his shoulders, flattening my palms on his chest. "I felt so lost without you."

"I feel pretty lost right now."

"I don't want to lose you again. I can't."

He slid his hands up my back and cradled my head. "I'm not going anywhere."