To The Journey
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.
Chapter Forty-Five: The Path Less Traveled
Asil was positive she'd picked up on something none of the others in the briefing had. Yes, the officer who'd spoken out of turn was proverbially falling all over himself (and what a strange expression. How could one fall over oneself?) but contained within his stammering monologue was something that actually made sense. She suspected also that his idea might have been taken more seriously had he not made a comment that suggested Admiral Paris might forget his son's plight (another illogical human behavior, this tendency to be offended by words that were clearly not meant offensively). No, she was not likely to forget that this project dealt with well over one hundred people stranded in the Delta Quadrant, but the officer had not meant the reference as an insult, so why should she be offended?
Lieutenant Barclay. She remembered Tasha mentioning him once - a brilliant engineer, she'd said, but has trouble communicating, doesn't always work well with others. Asil had seen evidence of all three in just those few moments. But at the same time, Barclay's outburst reminded her of her own work on the Sovereign-class ships' power systems, how her commanding officer had been quick to dismiss her solution as a possibility, how that solution had turned out to be the correct one. His plan was not as well-formed as hers had been, but a plan had to evolve through the partially-formed stages before it could be complete.
Asil wasn't personally assigned to the Pathfinder project, though she had been involved in designing the communications array that was a central point of the plan. She knew, of course, that she could have used both her status as the family of a Voyager crewmember and her position within Engineering Corps to get herself assigned, but she didn't believe in using her professional discretion that way, and she certainly didn't believe in using a personal connection that had nothing to do with her professional capabilities to do so. In any case, Captain Scott, unlike her previous commanding officer, was fully aware of her abilities and assigned her tasks accordingly, and it would not be right to abandon or pass off one of the projects currently under her supervision simply because she had a personal connection to Pathfinder.
In any case, that would not keep her from looking over Barclay's plan. She had access to most of the computer files in Engineering Corps, and as for the rest - she would hardly be a competent engineer if she could not find a way to access a few encrypted files.
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"Did you come up here just for a visit, or was there something you wanted to talk to me about?"
Tasha was one of the few humans Asil knew who was inclined to say what she was thinking straight out. It was always somewhat refreshing after spending so much time with humans who so frequently hinted at the truth rather than say it outright. Asil might have chosen to leave the Vulcan homeworld to live in the place that was the origin of humanity, but that did not mean that there were not times where she lamented the human tendency to make a simple interaction complicated for no readily apparent reason.
"Reginald Barclay," she said simply. "He was your colleague aboard the Enterprise."
"Yeah, I remember. What about him?"
"He is working on a project of some interest to me. He has an idea that may or may not be of value."
"You couldn't determine the value just from looking at the idea?" This was half a tease and half genuine surprise. Asil was usually able to figure out the merit of a plan after looking at it for five minutes, if that.
"The idea is not in the computers. He made a verbal presentation -"
"Oh. Say no more." Tasha laughed a little, remembering more than a few verbal presentations from Barclay. "What do you need from me?"
"You have experience working with him. Are his ideas frequently sound?"
"I'm no engineer, but as an observer, I'd have to say yes. He sees patterns and connections that other people miss; it's led him to solutions and answers that no one else was anywhere near. He has a hard time being taken seriously because he doesn't do inter-personal interaction very well, and when he's called out, he freezes up and has even more trouble from that point on. Does that help?"
"Yes. I believe it does."
"One more thing you should know. When he gets an idea in his head, it's hard to get it out. You can talk all you want, he won't be deterred."
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"Excuse me, Commander?"
The man who'd been leading the previous morning's briefing stopped and turned to her. "Is there something I can help you with, Lieutenant?"
"I need to speak with Lieutenant Barclay. Is he available?"
"I'm afraid not, Lieutenant, and he won't be for some time. Lieutenant Barclay has been temporarily relieved of duty. Is there something I can help you with?"
"No, thank you, Commander."
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"Are ye turning in soon?"
Asil looked up from her console briefly to reply to her commanding officer's query. "Not imminently. I wish to finish these calculations before I depart for the evening. As a Vulcan, I could if necessary function for several more days at least before my lack of sleep would even become cause for concern, but in this case I do not foresee that being necessary."
He grinned. "I was just asking, no need for you to justify yourself. Have a good night, Lieutenant."
"And the same to you, Captain."
Asil turned back to her calculations, but she had only been working for a few minutes when her console beeped. She turned and saw that the computer had located the files she had set it to continuously scan for. It appeared someone had finally loaded Barclay's plan into a computer that was connected to the database. It wasn't encrypted beyond the normal Engineering Corps security codes she used on a daily basis.
If she was to be honest, she had stayed late primarily to wait for this file. The calculations could have waited until the next day, but they gave her a reason to remain at her station to wait for information on a proposal that, if she had understood correctly, was more time-sensitive. Not that Captain Scott was likely to object, but she would prefer not to involve him in an operation that was not strictly within their purview.
The information as it was laid out in written form was much clearer and more coherent than Barclay's stammered (and repeatedly interrupted) attempt at a verbal explanation. And the more she read, the more it became clear that her initial perception had been correct. Barclay's plan made sense.
He won't be deterred. Tasha had been referring to a debate, but Asil doubted that that personality trait was limited to one area. This plan was, as she had believed she understood, time-sensitive. Which meant that, relieved of duty or not, he would likely be in the lab as soon as it was empty. And she needed to be there too.
She'd managed to learn, too, what he'd done to get himself relieved in the first place. It was concerning, and something even she wanted to talk to him about, but it wasn't likely to impair his work for the moment.
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"Security will become aware shortly if you attempt that."
Barclay started and dropped the tool he'd clearly been about to use to tamper with the lab security system. "I - Lieutenant - I was just - I left something here, that is to say -"
Asil saved him any further stammering by calmly reaching past him and entering her own code into the manual keypad. The door slid open.
She stepped through and then turned to Barclay. "Lieutenant? Is something the matter?"
"N-n-no," he stammered out. "I just -"
"That is for the best," she interrupted quickly. "While I could likely put your plan into effect without your assistance, it would be beneficial to have it regardless."
"My - my plan?"
"To contact Voyager through the MIDAS array." Asil was already unlocking the relevant systems. "Do you intend to assist, or will I be required to complete this task on my own?"
He all but sprinted to the nearest console. "How did you know about my plan?"
"You mentioned it at the briefing. Computer, interface with the MIDAS array."
"It didn't seem like anyone was listening."
"I was paying attention. Activate the control matrix," she added to the computer. "Your presentation was less than entirely clear, however the theory appeared sound enough for further examination. I am curious: you did not mention in the briefing that you intended to create a microscopic singularity. In fact, I believed that you were specifically referring to a much larger anomaly. Was that omitted from your verbal report, or did you modify the plan in the time since the briefing?"
"I modified it," Barclay replied. "After the briefing, I started working again and - and one of the most obvious problems was that I wasn't sure the array could produce enough gravimetric energy to create a standard wormhole. But if all we're trying to do is communicate, do we really need a standard-size wormhole, or could we compress the data stream to fit through this microscopic version? Computer, scan the area surrounding the array for a class B itinerant pulsar."
"A pulsar has been detected at co-ordinates two two seven by four one mark six," the computer informed them.
"Good, good!" he replied excitedly. "Direct a sixty terawatt tachyon beam toward the pulsar."
"Tachyon beam initiated."
"I believe I can modify the plan further, if you are willing," Asil interrupted Barclay's dialogue with the computer.
"Of course. Computer, how long until levels are sufficient to produce a gravimetric surge of five million teradynes?"
"Approximately seventeen minutes."
"What are you thinking?" he asked her.
"Are you familiar with the research of Doctor Lenara Kahn of the Trill Science Ministry regarding the creation of stable artificial wormholes?" Asil never took her eyes or hands off the console even as she spoke.
"Yes, I am. But I thought that experiment failed."
"It did," Asil replied matter-of-factly. "However, if we apply those principles to your idea, we may be able to stabilize this micro-wormhole, if not indefinitely then at least for a finite amount of time, to prolong our contact with Voyager. Pay attention to your console," she admonished in the same matter-of-fact tone. "If we err in the timing of this, we will have to start over."
"Right. Sorry. Will your modifications be ready to go by the time we open the wormhole?"
"First, we need to determine where the wormhole must be directed. I cannot stabilize the wormhole if we will have to redirect it to locate the correct coordinates. Once we have established the correct trajectory, I can implement the modifications to stabilize."
"Are you sure it'll work?"
"No, I am not. But none of my calculations suggest that the modifications will cause any damage to the MIDAS array or cause the wormhole to collapse sooner than it would otherwise."
"So you're saying that the worst-case scenario is that we end up where we would have been if we didn't even try your plan. That's ... that's brilliant."
Asil only nodded at the praise. "There is an advantage to working with other individuals as opposed to holograms."
Barclay's face colored. "You...know about that?"
"Yes. Tell me, when you discussed the plan with the holographic recreation of the Voyager crew, did any of them provide suggestions, or did they merely allow you a venue to speak aloud your own thoughts until you could determine a solution?"
"The - the second one. What's your point?"
"Holograms are only a compilation and extrapolation of the computer data that is input into them. Unlike individuals with their own minds, holograms cannot innovate beyond the parameters of data that is already in the computers. Your idea to change the parameters of this project from required placing a completely new lens upon the project, not only extrapolating but creating a completely new idea. A hologram is unable to do that."
"But I've read the report from when Voyager's doctor made contact with Starfleet. According to that -"
"That is a different situation," Asil replied. "For one thing, the Doctor's program is far more complex and sophisticated than the programs that control the characters on the holodeck, including an adaptive algorithm specifically designed for innovative thinking, in order to allow him to explore alternative medical treatments when the conventional options have been exhausted. For another, the Doctor has been running almost continuously for nearly six years - four at the time he made contact with Starfleet - long enough for a hologram, especially one as sophisticated as the Doctor, to develop sentience. One cannot say the same for a holodeck program."
"So you're saying I should ditch the holodeck program."
"What you do on your recreational time is not my concern. However, I would suggest that seeking input from your colleagues might be more beneficial to your work efforts than consulting holographic characters. Colleagues might also be useful if the event arises again that you have to convince a senior officer of the merits of a proposal."
"I know, I know. But it's not - it's not that simple. There's so much that goes into interactions between humans, and I'm always half a step behind. You're lucky. Vulcans just say what they mean. There's no subtext, no hidden set of rules everyone's supposed to know instinctively. It must be so simple."
"Vulcan interaction contains an element of complexity that is not always readily apparent. In any case, I have not lived on Vulcan for any length of time since I was a very young child. I have had to learn the rules of human interaction, just as you have. Some of it is easier, as I am not entirely expected to understand the intricacies of humanity, but some of it is simply learning to be part of a culture even if I do not fully understand it."
"You make it sound so easy."
"Easy? No. But it is possible. You do not feel that you are a part of human culture. Accept that, or you will always be pursuing a goal that is just out of reach. You must have training in interacting with cultures other than your own."
"I took the required courses at the Academy like everyone else."
"Exactly so. Make use of your training. Study humanity as you would any culture with which you were not familiar."
"That's - that's brilliant." He looked like he was about to say more, but before he could, Asil's console beeped urgently.
"Tachyon levels are sufficient to create the required gravimetric surge - there."
"Computer," Barclay asked excitedly, "is there a micro-wormhole present at co-ordinates three four three by two seven?"
"Scanning. Affirmative."
"Adjust the phase alignment to direct the wormhole's trajectory to Delta quadrant, grid nine, Sector 41751," Asil instructed.
"Trajectory established."
"Open Starfleet Emergency Channel and transmit toward the singularity."
"Channel open."
Barclay looked at Asil, waiting for her next move, but she only nodded to him. He didn't reply.
"Computer, pause recording." She turned to Barclay. "This plan was your idea, and you are the senior officer present. Protocol dictates you record the message."
"Are - are you sure?"
"I am certain. Computer, resume recording."
Barclay took a deep, uneasy breath and began recording. "Starfleet Command to USS Voyager. Come in, Voyager. Voyager, do you hear me? This is Lieutenant Reginald Barclay. Please respond. End recording."
A few seconds of silence passed between Barclay and Asil. He broke it first. "If they haven't replied by now, I don't think they're going to."
"Agreed. Computer, redirect the wormhole's trajectory to Delta quadrant, grid 11, sector 64238 and retransmit the message."
"Trajectory established. Transmitting."
Again, the two engineers waited in silence for a reply, but none was forthcoming.
"Well," Barclay said nervously, "third time's the charm, right?"
"A curious turn of phrase, as the third time is no more likely in general to produce a more favorable result than any other attempt. However, in this case, since there were three alternatives and two of them have proven incorrect, logic dictates that the third is likely to be correct."
"Right. Computer, redirect the wormhole's trajectory to Delta quadrant, grid ten, sector 3658, and retransmit the message."
But almost before he could finish the sentence, the lab doors hissed open and five people walked through. Asil recognized two of them immediately: Commander Harkins and Admiral Paris. One of the others was an engineer she had seen around, although she had never learned his name. The remaining two, she surmised, were the Admiral's aides. And it was clear that none of them had expected to find the lab occupied, to say nothing of seeing Barclay there.
"Lieutenant," Harkins began sternly. "You were relieved of duty. How did you even get into the lab without setting off the security system?"
"Excuse me, Commander," Asil spoke up. "Lieutenant Barclay did not tamper with the security system in any way. I accessed the lab, which I am permitted to do as a member of Starfleet Engineering Corps."
Paris and Harkins both turned to look at her. The Commander spoke first. "That may be the case, but I distinctly remember telling you just yesterday that Lieutenant Barclay had been relieved of duty."
"I required his assistance."
"Look, Pete." This time it was Barclay interrupting. "I was already on - on the premises when Lieutenant Asil got here. She didn't ask me to come - I think she meant to try my plan without my help. She just took advantage of my already being here."
"All right, both of you, enough trying to keep each other out of trouble," Paris snapped, though there was a tone in his voice that suggested a hint of amusement and maybe even respect for their mutual loyalty. "We'll deal with this later. As it happens, Commander Harkins and I were on our way down here to give Mr. Barclay's plan a try. How much did you two manage to implement before we showed up?"
"We - we transmitted the message to all three sets of coordinates," Barclay stammered out. "It should have worked. I don't understand why it didn't."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Paris said softly.
"So am I, sir," Barclay replied. "I appreciate your confidence in me, and Lieutenant Asil's, but I don't deserve it."
"Lieutenant Barclay is correct," Asil put in. "There is no readily apparent explanation for why this did not work as it was meant to. I do not believe he is to blame for -"
At that point, the comm system crackled to life. At first it just sounded like static, but almost immediately, everyone in the room heard what was unmistakably a voice, albeit a distorted one. "Starfleet Command, come in."
Asil checked her instruments, but the readings only confirmed what she already knew. The signal was coming from the coordinates of the wormhole. Aware that everyone was watching her, she nodded. It was the only confirmation they needed.
Commander Harkins hurried for the nearest console. "Reg, give me a hand clearing up the signal. Lieutenant -"
"I am attempting to increase stability to the wormhole in order to prolong this contact," she said briskly, turning back to her calculations as Barclay and Harkins worked to filter the transmission to eliminate some of the distortion.
The voice came through again. "This is Captain Kathryn Janeway. Do you read me?"
"I think she's talking to you," Harkins said, his voice soft with amazement that this had actually worked.
Barclay drew a deep breath, his nervousness almost palpable. Then he spoke. "Captain?"
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"Captain? This is Lieutenant Reginald Barclay at Starfleet Command."
The crew seemed to let out a collective breath as their Captain answered. "It's good to hear your voice, Lieutenant. We've been waiting a long time for this moment."
"The feeling is mutual. Unfortunately, the micro-wormhole is collapsing. We may have only a few moments."
This tempered the excitement of the Voyager crew slightly, but the Captain never lost her outward composure. "Understood. We are transmitting our ship's logs, crew reports and navigational records to you now."
"Acknowledged. And we're sending you data on some new hyper-subspace technology. We're hoping eventually to use it to keep in regular contact, and we're including some recommended modifications for your comm system."
"We'll implement them as soon as possible," the Captain assured him, and she meant it. If there was any chance of regular, even occasional, contact with Earth...
"There's someone else here who would also like to say something," Barclay stammered.
Another voice came on the comm line, one neither the Captain nor her helmsman needed his first sentence to recognize. "This is Admiral Paris."
Janeway smiled at the voice of her mentor. "Hello, sir." The man's son was shocked beyond words.
"How are your people holding up?" he asked, and Janeway knew what he wasn't saying. In command fashion, he was asking after her crew, but there was one person he wanted to know about more than any other.
"Very well. They're an exemplary crew, your son included."
When the Admiral spoke again, he actually sounded a little choked up. "Tell him, tell him I miss him. And I'm proud of him."
Amazement shone in Tom's eyes, the same amazement they'd held when he'd first read his father's letter two years earlier, but he was still beyond speech. Janeway replied for him. "He heard you, Admiral."
"Captain," Harry Kim said in surprise from his console, interrupting the moment. "I don't know how, but the micro-wormhole's rate of collapse has slowed to a fraction of what it was before."
"What?" She spun to face him, shocked.
"It's as if it's starting to stabilize."
She heard Barclay again, although this time, it didn't appear as if he was talking to Voyager. "Lieutenant? I think it's working."
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Asil checked to make sure her modifications were holding and then she turned so she could speak into the comm. "Captain, I have implemented modifications on this end to slow the rate of collapse. It would be most effective if you were to implement the same modifications to the other aperture as well."
"Can you transmit them to us, Lieutenant? I'll have our astrometrics lab implement them immediately."
"Yes, Captain. Computer, document all modifications made to the wormhole since the most recent redirection and transmit via currently open emergency channel."
"Acknowledged. Message has been compiled and transmitted."
"Thank you, Lieutenant." Janeway's gratitude was clearly very heartfelt. "How long do you expect the wormhole to be able to remain open for?"
"I cannot be certain, as this procedure has never been attempted. If my calculations are correct - half an hour, perhaps a little longer if we are fortunate."
"If past examples are any indication, it is more than likely your calculations are correct."
Vulcan or not, that voice stopped Asil in her tracks. It was a good two minutes before she could form a response. "It is only an estimate. However, if you believe that to be the case, the Captain should make a decision as to what to do with that period of time."
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"...the Captain should make a decision as to what to do with that period of time."
"Right. Mr. Chakotay, tell the crew the situation and inform them that they have twenty minutes to write and submit any letters they'd like us to send through. That goes for all of you," she added to the bridge crew. "I know it's not a lot of time, but I also know that a lot of us have letters already written that we've been holding onto since we lost that relay network two years ago. That chance we were waiting for? This is it."
"Lieutenant." Seven of Nine's voice came through the comm system on the bridge, clearly intended for the occupants of the far-off lab.
"Yes?" answered both Barclay and the female Lieutenant who had yet to identify herself.
Except, apparently, in the relayed data Seven had been working off of. "Lieutenant Asil."
Janeway snapped her head around to look at Tuvok as the Lieutenant in question replied. "Yes, I am present. To whom am I speaking?"
"My designation is Seven of Nine. The modifications you transmitted have been implemented and appear to be working. By my estimates, we have approximately one half hour before it will collapse beyond the point where it is useful."
"I concur."
Janeway, meanwhile, had migrated over to tactical station. "Tuvok," she said softly enough not to be picked up by the comm system, "we're in open space. There's nothing on sensors. We're not even at warp. Go ahead. Talk to your daughter."
Tuvok nodded slowly. "Asil?"
It didn't escape the bridge crew's notice that one of the most precise members of their crew had dropped the woman's title, but no one commented as she replied. "Yes. I am here."
"Are you well?"
"Yes," she said again. "We all are."
"All?" he repeated. The bridge crew recognized this as the tone he used when he wanted more information on something he'd just been told.
"My mother, my brothers, my sister, and their families."
This time, the look Janeway turned on her second officer was a questioning one. As far as she knew, Asil was Tuvok's only daughter, and his sons' wives would be covered under their families. But she didn't ask, and Tuvok didn't volunteer the information. "Tell them I miss them. I have letters prepared to send all of you."
"I will."
Breaking this here because it's plenty long enough and I want to get it posted - the next chapter will be wrap-up for this one.
The chapter's premise and some of the dialogue are drawn from the Voyager episode Pathfinder. Lenara Kahn and her research are from the DS9 episode Rejoined.
Please review.