Starfleet Engineering labs: Kathryn

“Sorry, Admrial, we simply can’t control this thing. We’ve tried vertron, sound waves, you name it. All it does is turn on the wormhole generator, which knocks out our wormhole.”

B’Elanna sounds as frustrated as I feel. Two weeks of simulations and tests, and we’re no closer to getting a signal around Baldy Rock. And time is running out for Neelix.

“I know,” I say sadly. “Reg’s been trying to punch that wormhole through another route, but the signal keeps degrading, or it misses the target.”

And as if on cue, Reg’s voice comes over the comm. “Admiral, sensors show the wormhole device has powered up.”

“Were you running any tests?”

“No, I was going to ask if you were testing.”

I look at B’Elanna, who shakes her head. “No, we’re not. Send an advisory to Security, and keep monitoring that thing …”

“Something … or someone has gotten too close to our device, it seems,” B’Elanna says.

“Looks like it,” I say. “Let’s hope it’s a something, because who knows where it’s going to end up.”

***

Actually, the answer to that came quickly: two large pieces of space rock were flung out over Australia, one of them barely missing a commercial shuttle flight.

“That thing is a menace,” I growl as I toss a PADD on the lab table. Though I now fear that some of the menace is of our doing. “Lanna, what would it take to destroy that thing?”

She looks a bit surprised, whether it’s the question or my use of her nickname, I’m not sure. But then I see that little gleam in her eye: I’ve handed her a tantalizing puzzle.

“We are talking about a micro-wormhole here, so we’re a bit limited,” she begins, then stops and grins at me. “But since you married the expert on sending weapons through wormholes, I suggest we start by asking him.”

***

Federation Headquarters : Kathryn

I tell people that the difference between being on Voyager and being home is the paperwork. Actually, the difference is that I can’t act on my own. If I were on Voyager, I’d just order Tuvok to fire a torpedo spread or a phaser blast to obliterate this thing. Now, I have to get permission; worse, our plan has become a political issue.

So, Bill Hayes, who’s the new chief of operations, and I are in Paris, trying to convince the Federation brass to let us knock Baldy Rock to Borg Hell. The only good part of this is that I could bring Elizabeth along; Jack’s working with B’Elanna to find a suitable weapon.

“We understand your concerns, admirals, but this is an incursion into another quadrant,” Minister O’taziv intones.

“Minister, this is Borg technology. And since they abandoned it, I doubt anyone would object to our destroying it,” I argue.

“Besides that,” Bill adds, “this device is malfunctioning. It’s grabbing anything in its path and throwing it into other quadrants. I might remind you that we nearly had a tragedy involving civilians last week when it tossed a couple of meteors at Australia. If the unthinkable happens, a lot of people are going to ask why we didn’t do something to prevent it.”

I continue the assault. “It’s also a security issue. It tossed one of my former crew into the Alpha Quadrant. He’s not a threat, but who knows what or who this thing will toss out next. Believe me, Minister, there are beings in the Delta Quadrant who should stay there. We don’t need a load of radioactive waste from the Malon, and we certainly don’t want Videans roaming the quadrant, killing Federation citizens for their organs.”

Bill and Minister O’taziv have that horrified look I see when I mention the nasty portions of the Delta Quadrant. In this case, however, I’m willing to inflict some discomfort; the risks have become very real.

Minister O’taziv swallows … actually, he gulps. “I see. I will take your proposal back to the Council. I suspect you’ll have an answer rather quickly.”

***

The flight back was uneventful. Bill hands me a cup of coffee, and sits down across from us. He smiles at Elizabeth, who’s sound asleep in her seat.

“Think you have the next generation of Starfleet there?”

“Doubtful, though I suppose it’s too early to tell. She and Will enjoy the perks of being admirals’ kids, but they aren’t particularly interested in what we do … at least not the way I was with my father.”

I chuckle at a thought. “I should have brought Will to conduct the negotiations; he’d of given O’taziv a run for his money.”

Bill laughs. “I was thinking the same thing about my Robbie. I suspect he’s got my family’s law gene, but I don’t see him as a JAG lawyer.”

We sit quietly for a moment, then Bill shifts in his chair a bit, and I suspect he’s about to say something.

“Kathryn, can I ask you a personal question?”

Hmm … “I suppose,” I say lightly.

“Do you have nightmares about the things that happened to you in the Delta?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because after your description of those … body snatchers … I think I’m going to have nightmares. I suspect the good minister will, too. The Dominion War was bad, but frankly, I don’t know how you stayed sane out there.”

The true answer is hell yes; I have nightmares, though it’s no longer a regular event. But I have to tread carefully here. I’m well aware that some of the brass questioned as to whether I was fit for any kind of duty after seven years on Voyager. Even more questions followed the revelation that another version of me got us home. So I am very careful about what I share, and with whom.

“Well, out there … it probably sounds trite, but I did fall back on those things they taught us in command school: duty, purpose, discipline … especially discipline, considering that I had an unusual crew,” I begin, giving him my best disarming smile.

“As for the rest,” I say as I nod toward Elizabeth. “Having Jack and the kids in my life helps a lot. Reminds me that there’s still good out there. And fortunately, time takes the edge off a lot of the bad things.”

Bill considers this … I’m not sure if he believes me, but he’s been in combat, so I suspect he knows enough to leave this alone.

Finally, he raises his coffee toward me in a salute. “To surviving … and carrying on.”

I raise my cup, too. “To carrying on.”






 

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