by Tricia Donovan © 2000
For disclaimers, etc, see Part One. Thanks to Lisa and friends for help with technobabble. Any errors in application are mine.
Part Two
There was silence in the briefing room. Seven had finished explaining that if they followed Inspector Kashyk's course at their present speed, they would reach the limit of Devore space in twenty days, eighteen hours, 14 minutes and twenty-three seconds.
"But can we trust him?" Tom had asked, voicing the thought that was uppermost in Kathryn's mind. She looked at her officers and saw the same question in all their faces.
Was all this part of some elaborate game of cat and mouse? No, she thought. She wondered why was she so sure of that. Perhaps because it seemed out of keeping with the dignity he had displayed when they were alone together. But the public Kashyk? The posturing and smug man who
had boarded her ship as though it were his own. Would he enjoy
tormenting them in this way?
Undoubtedly. But which of these men was the real Kashyk? Both? Or neither?
It did not matter, Kathryn realized. Kashyk had gambled and lost, and to repeat the gamble now would be to lose all credibility in the eyes of his men. That was Voyager's guarantee of his sincerity.
He could not risk further antagonizing Prax. The Devore second-in-command had not liked her, that was obvious. What she had come to realize, during their brief association, was that he did not like Kashyk either. And he was a man in whom emotion burned slow, but steady.
"He'll have a hard time convincing Prax to keep quiet about this," she said to herself. And then, as sudden as a hawk dropping down on its prey, came the thought that Prax would never be in a position to report on his superior.
And that might have been us, she thought. If it were not that ... What? That he loved her? Too strong a word, surely, for whatever had been between them? No, whatever he felt for her, his vanity had proved stronger, and it was this, in the end that had saved them.
They were all looking at her, waiting for her answer. Not because she was their captain, but because she knew him better than any of them. Which was not at all, she acknowledged bleakly.
"Yes, Tom," she said abruptly. "We can trust him."
The baldness of her statement left them all at a loss. Still no one spoke. Kathryn knew that something more was required of her, an explanation of her certainty, but could not think what to say. She could feel tension crackling in the air. She did not like it either: Kashyk, their saviour.
She was grateful when Tuvok intervened, his tones cool, his words precise. He laid the facts before them, in an orderly progression as inevitable and compelling as a fugue. Where she had used intuition, he had used logic, but they had arrived at the same conclusion.
His sonorous tones had the effect of lowering the emotional temperature in the room. "... and I would add that, given the Inspector's vanity, it is improbable that having failed in his attempts to apprehend Voyager, he would be content to allow another Inspector to claim the glory that he believes is his. We can, I would argue, have
complete confidence in his guarantee of safe conduct."
It was this, more than anything else that persuaded them.
She pressed her fingers to her forehead where a headache throbbed insistently.
They would assume that the information was genuine. But Kathryn ordered the ship to yellow alert. And shields at maximum, engines at peak efficiency, off-duty time cut to a minimum, regular battle drills.
Chakotay remained behind after the others had left. He pointed out to her the futility of these preparations if the Inspector's assurances were false. Voyager would be outgunned and outmanoeuvred.
Kathryn answered quietly that she knew that. But it would give the crew something to focus on, make them feel that they were doing something practical. She pushed her hair away from her forehead in a characteristic gesture. "And it makes me feel a hell of a lot better."
Chakotay smiled quizzically. Kathryn looked at him steadily. Her eyes were like a winter sea.
"Chakotay," she said very softly. "I will not allow this ship to fall into Devore hands."
Then she turned abruptly and left him alone in the briefing room to ponder on the chilling significance of what she had said.
If it had not been that they were in enemy territory, Kathryn might almost have felt that they were having an easy ride. The engines hummed
sweetly as Voyager maintained a steady speed of warp six. Throughout the ship, men and women went about their duties with calm efficiency.
Some three hours later they saw the first warship. Kathryn ordered Voyager to red alert, but the great vessel passed them to starboard as if they were invisible. A second encounter later that night proved as uneventful. It appeared that Kashyk had been true to his word.
Kathryn did not stand down the yellow alert, but she went to bed at a reasonable hour and slept soundly.
The next morning was equally uneventful. Kathryn asked Seven to look for M-class planets outside Devore space where they might be able to enjoy a little shore leave. Shore leave. It had a comforting Alpha
Quadrant ring to it.
At lunchtime she went down to the mess hall. Smiles and nods greeted her entrance. She was continuing her policy of being highly visible
to all her crew. As a result, for the first time in weeks she found herself eating regular meals, and felt the better for it.
Neelix hurried over to the table where she was sitting with Chakotay to tell her of his idea for a party. By a happy coincidence, the Bajoran Gratitude Festival fell on the third day after their
projected departure from Devore space.
Kathryn gave the plan her wholehearted approval. They would have cause for gratitude by that time. She hoped.
The first hint of trouble came that afternoon.
"I'm picking up something on long-range sensors."
Tuvok sighed very gently. "Can you be more specific, Mr Kim?"
"Negative. Just ... something."
Tuvok accessed the data and after a moment or two looked, up his face more impassive than usual, if that were possible.
"I am forced to concur with Ensign Kim. The reading is ...
indecipherable."
Kathryn went through the possibilities in her mind. Running a diagnostic would mean taking the navigational deflector offline, but they seemed to be in no immediate danger. They needed to know what, if
anything, was out there. She ordered Harry to run a Level One Diagnostic on the sensors. Tom was to maintain their present course, but drop out of warp.
She exchanged glances with Chakotay. There was no hint of a smile now. His dark eyes were hard and unreadable, but she knew he must be
remembering their brief conversation of the previous day.
The ion storm, when it hit, found Voyager as unprepared and helpless as an ancient Terran sailing vessel. It was but a few minutes until
they were thrown clear, but those few minutes wreaked havoc. Damage reports were coming in from all over the ship: systems were down, there were hull breaches on all decks. Most serious of all was the loss, not just of the warp drive, but of impulse power. Voyager was dead in the water. Uncharted waters. They had been thrown some two light years off the course Kashyk had plotted.
At least they still had life support. And the comm system still worked. At this Kathryn hit her comm badge, realizing there was one member of her crew who had not reported. "Bridge to sick bay."
There was no answer. The Doctor's program had gone offline. Kathryn ordered Tom to sick bay, since, for the moment, they had no need of a
pilot. As casualties were light, for now the Doctor was a low priority.
"Captain, we are being hailed."
"Thank you, Tuvok. On screen."
Expecting to see a Devore soldier; hoping that the mention of Kashyk's name would ensure their continued safe passage, Kathryn was stunned at the sight of the face on the view screen.
"Captain, you appear to be in need of assistance. Perhaps if I and my engineer beam aboard we may be able to give you some assistance.
And then you can tell me what the Federation is doing in the Delta Quadrant."
Kathryn had questions of her own, but beyond asking the other his name, did not want to discuss matters over an open comm link. This encounter appeared, on the face of it, to have brought them much-needed, but wholly-unexpected, allies. Yet they were in hostile space and Kathryn was prepared to take nothing at face value.
The captain of the approaching vessel had spoken his name with characteristic pride. It seemed vaguely familar to Kathryn, but she could not for the moment recall where she had heard it before. What most concerned her at the moment, was whether or not the man could be trusted.
But we have to trust him, she thought. We have no choice in the matter. Kathryn did not like it when someone else called the shots. This was the second time in twenty-four hours that she had been placed
in such a position. But she recognized that there was something
liberating in it as well. Absolved from choice, all that was required of her was action.
And before her danced the prospect, dazzling as a supernova, of a way back to the Alpha Quadrant.
The other ship would be within transporter range in forty minutes. Kathryn and her astonished crew had until then to consider what options, if any, were open to them. Leaving the bridge to Tuvok she
went to her Ready Room.
It took her only a few seconds to find the information she needed in the database. Then she remembered where she had heard the name before.
[ Part Three ]
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