chapter 27

 

 

The Starfleet security guards drew up into a stiff posture, eyes straight ahead as they stood on either side of the door. As one of them spoke quietly into his commbadge, the other said, “If you’ll wait just a moment, sir.”

“Very well.”

In fact it was little more than a moment before the door opened to reveal Admiral Paris. “Commander Tuvok, it’s good to see you,” he said with a smile. “Please, come in.”

“Thank you, Admiral.” Tuvok followed him into the spacious hallway. “I’m afraid I have little in the way of a progress report as yet.”

“I know that. You’ve only been on the job one day; even I don’t expect miracles that quickly. Besides, I’m not the one who issued the order for you to report here.”

Tuvok raised an eyebrow. “Then may I ask to whom I am reporting?”

“That would be me,” said a familiar voice behind him. He turned as the other eyebrow joined the first.

“Captain Janeway. I was not informed of your presence here.”

“We’re trying to keep out of the communication channels,” she said, coming up beside him. “Thank you for coming, Tuvok. I really appreciate it, and I assure you that I didn’t request your involvement lightly. I hope T’Pel will forgive me for calling you away so quickly.”

“There is nothing for T’Pel to forgive. She approves of my involvement. Her sense of justice, and mine, have both been offended by this situation. Until we can all return home, none of us are home.”

She smiled. “I’m not sure that’s entirely logical, but I’ll take it and be grateful for it.”

Had it been anyone else, he would have said that gratitude was unnecessary, but this was Kathryn Janeway. He’d known her long enough by now to know that such a statement was useless. Instead, he asked, “May I assume that Ms. Hamilton is also here?”

“Yes, she is. And she’s going to be thrilled to see you. Perhaps you’d like to speak with her before telling us all what you’ve learned so far?”

Though her face was guileless, he detected an undercurrent. “Is there any particular reason you wish me to speak with her beforehand?”

“Do you need one, besides the fact that she hasn’t seen you in a week and a half and she misses you?”

He concealed a sigh. Answering a question with a question was a Janeway trick of avoidance, but the truth was that he was also looking forward to seeing his student and friend. “Where might I find her?”

She smiled. “This way.”

Admiral Paris nodded his consent, and Tuvok followed his captain through several corridors to the back of the house. She stopped at a door with a transparent upper half, looking out onto a wooden deck and a view of the ocean. “There,” she said, indicating the figure at the far edge of the deck. “And Tuvok? She could use a dose of your logic. At the moment, mine’s not working.”

He turned to regard her. “Have I been recalled for my investigative skills, or my friendship with Ms. Hamilton?”

“I requested you for your investigative skills, because I trust you more than anyone at Starfleet Headquarters. We need to get this resolved—quickly.” She sighed. “But I can’t deny I was also hoping you might be able to help her personally as well. She’s always held you in a special regard, and she hears things from you that she won’t hear from anyone else.”

“And what is it that you believe she needs to hear from me?”

Janeway looked back through the window at her wife. “The same thing she always needs to hear: that her best is good enough. But I think the details ought to come from her.” Turning back toward him, she touched his arm and smiled. “Thank you so much for coming. We’ve missed your presence since the moment you left.” Patting his arm once more, she walked back down the corridor.

As he watched her go, he reflected that one of the things he most appreciated in Kathryn Janeway was her ability to modify Human social expectations. Other Humans would wait for him to say ‘you’re welcome,’ or expect some reciprocal if insincere comment regarding how he had also missed their presence. Janeway expected none of those things, nor did she wait for them. She simply stated her own feelings, and left him to absorb the information.

Turning back to the window, he resumed his observation of Ms. Hamilton, checking her form with a critical eye. She was working through the Hundred Forms of the Savdaa, and he felt a swelling of satisfaction in noting that her movements were excellent and her concentration absolute. For fifteen minutes he stood there, unwilling to interrupt, until she finished the last form. She brought her arms down to her sides, then drew her hands in to her chest and bowed shortly over them. He could see the slight movement of her shoulders as she released the final breath. At last she turned to pick up her jacket, and their eyes met through the door. The initial surprise on her face was followed by an enormous smile as he activated the door and stepped through.

“You told me a teacher never stopped teaching, but I didn’t realize you meant it to this degree!” she said, pulling on her jacket and walking toward him. “So did it look all right?”

“I only saw the last forty-two forms,” he answered. “But what I saw looked nearly perfect.”

“Just ‘nearly’? Damn. I need to practice more.”

“I do not believe you do. Perfection is a goal that, once achieved—”

“Leaves nothing for the achiever,” she finished, her smile growing even larger. “Tuvok, it’s so good to see you! But what the hell are you doing here? Why aren’t you home on Vulcan?”

“I’m working on an investigation.”

“What?! Starfleet recalled you? That’s ridiculous! For god’s sake, you just got home! No offense, but surely they have other investigators who can do the job.”

“No doubt they do. In this case, however, I was specifically requested.”

“And what’s so all impor—” She paused. “Wait a minute. Do I detect the hand of one Kathryn Janeway?”

“I have no way of knowing what you detect,” he said.

“You came here for me.” It was not a question, and her expression did not bode well for the captain.

“I came because my friends require my assistance. And I am pleased to provide it.”

“Well, that’s just great. It’s bad enough that Revi almost died and Seven had the life scared out of her—now you’re being dragged into it, too. Tuvok, I’m sorry. You shouldn’t be here. You should be home with T’Pel and your children. And this is really pissing me off.”

“Clearly some part of your Savdaa was incorrectly performed,” he said. “The Hundred Forms unify mind and body on a common plane of balance and calm. You are neither.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a little difficult to be balanced and calm when my friends are having to pay for my choices. And my family, too. I’ve had it up to here with the whole thing, and Kathryn calling you in is not helping. You shouldn’t be involved in this.”

“I see. So my presence is neither required nor welcome. In that case I will return to Vulcan.”

That stopped her short, the angry energy visibly draining from her. “That’s not what I meant. Shit. I’m sorry, Tuvok, you came all this way and I’m being an ungrateful…never mind. I’m glad you’re here, really. It’s just…it’s been a tough week.”

“Extraordinarily so,” he agreed. “I’ve been brought up to date by Admiral Necheyev and her staff. Perhaps you might fill in anything I’m currently missing.”

After a moment, she indicated one of the oddly shaped chairs on the deck. “Sure. Have a seat. You’ll probably never be able to get out of it again, but that seems to be the general metaphor these days anyway.”

The design of the chair exceeded even the worst he had previously seen, but he managed to find a position that enabled him to remain upright and attentive, if not at ease. By contrast, she allowed herself to slide to the deepest point of the chair, coming to a stop against its back with an audible thump. Seeing him watching her, she explained, “It’s the only way to be comfortable in these. You have to just let yourself go and slide in.”

“I prefer this.”

“You look like you’re afraid it might bite. You know, this morning I even got Seven to sit properly in that chair. Apparently comfort was relevant after all.”

“Was pride?”

That made her laugh, which—though not his primary goal—certainly eased the tension she had been displaying. “Good point,” she said. “It is a little hard to get out of these things with any grace. Okay, what do you need to know?”

“Every detail, even those you may not think are important. Start from the moment you set foot on Voyager again, five days ago. What did you notice, who did you see, what exactly happened?”

She rested her head on the back of the chair, her eyes on the ocean. “Let’s see. We beamed aboard Voyager via a direct Starfleet relay from the Bloomington transport station…”

As it turned out, there were quite a few details he hadn’t been told during his briefing with Admiral Necheyev and her staff. Whether any of them would prove fruitful, he didn’t know. But though he now had more leads to follow, the strongest one had not changed. He was convinced that if he could trace the original purchase point of the microtransmitter found in Alison Necheyev’s office, he would quickly have a suspect in hand.

In the meantime, he had another puzzle before him. The story Ms. Hamilton had told explained her anger, but not the comment Captain Janeway had made.

“I’m curious about one thing,” he said.

“Just one?”

Ignoring the comment, he continued, “You spoke of your family paying the price for your decisions. Unless you consider Commander Sandovhar and Seven of Nine your family, I fail to see what price you’re referring to. Captain Janeway was not harmed; neither were any members of the Janeway family.”

“Ah. Well, that doesn’t really have anything to do with your investigation.”

“Then perhaps it has something to do with our friendship.”

“You know, I’m definitely starting to smell a conspiracy here,” she said, but her tone held no rancor.

“Shall I investigate that as well?”

That earned him a small smile and a shake of the head. “No. I can’t blame Kathryn for worrying about me. And she’s tried to talk to me about it, but there isn’t anything to say that hasn’t already been said. I just need to get myself over this. Or maybe I just need to get over myself.” She pushed herself out of the chair, an act that clearly required considerable effort, and walked across the deck to lean against the railing. Glad for the excuse to move, he rose and joined her, waiting quietly for her to speak.

“Did Kathryn tell you about the messages from my parents?”

“She did not.”

She nodded. “Well, it turns out that my parents not only didn’t destroy that PADD I left behind, they figured out how it worked and used it to leave messages for me. One every year, on the anniversary of the day they first saw mine. So all of a sudden, I have parents again. I thought I’d closed that door a year and a half ago, but now it’s open. There are things my parents have to say that I still haven’t heard.”

“You haven’t viewed all of the messages.”

“No. They’re all I have left. Once I’ve seen them all, that door closes again. Does that make sense?”

“Of course.”

She met his eyes. “It does?”

“Yes. For the period of time that you have unviewed messages, you’re still sharing your parents’ timeline. There is still a future, as defined by temporal mechanics. As long as you’re unaware of upcoming events, decisions, conversations—any aspect of an unlived timeline—then you are, in a sense, contemporary with them.”

“God. You make it sound so perfectly logical. I thought I was just being desperate.”

“Not at all. May I assume, then, that your parents’ messages have revealed some unforeseen consequence of your intervention?”

“No. Well, not yet, at least. No, the problem is that there might be a consequence that I did foresee. But I didn’t do anything about it.”

“‘Might be’?”

“Don’t start,” she said. “I’ve already gotten that from Kathryn, Seven and Revi. I’m not going to watch all the messages just to rule it out.”

He acknowledged this with a nod. “Then what is this consequence that you foresaw and now fear?”

She turned away, her eyes on the ocean. “I think my dad might have died in the bombing of Denver.”

“An event you could have warned him about,” he said. Now the pieces were falling into place.

“But didn’t,” she agreed. “And now I’m wondering why, if I were going to break the Prime Temporal Directive, I didn’t just go all the way and do it up right. Tell them everything. Keep them safe.”

“Because you had greater responsibilities than keeping two individuals safe. That is the dilemma that often faces individuals in temporal displacement situations. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.”

“I know.” She rested her forearms on the rail. “But right now the needs of those few are a lot more important to me. And I keep thinking about how much I already did change things. I already chose the needs of the few. I abdicated my responsibility to the future by intervening as much as I did, and then I abdicated my responsibility to the past by failing to intervene further.”

“Thus you have convinced yourself of total failure, both now and then.”

“Well—”

“Illogical.”

He saw a ghost of a smile on her face as she turned to face him. “Okay. That’s starting to sound familiar; Revi said the same thing a few hours ago. I can’t wait for the dissection.”

“Your father was already near the end of the average Human lifespan at that time, was he not?”

“Yes, but—”

“So any further intervention on your part, to prevent his possible death during the bombing, could not have greatly extended his lifespan.”

“No, but that isn’t—”

“Therefore, full intervention would have had minimal impact on the past, but would have had a statistically significant probability of major impact on our present.” He paused to give her time to respond, but when she showed no signs of speaking he continued, “However, the intervention which you did commit had significant impact on the past, in the form of markedly improving the lives of your parents. Though the impact on our present cannot be accurately measured, a review of the possible timelines absent the Human knowledge of warp technology, which your parents were largely responsible for enabling, would indicate that the current timeline is indeed the most beneficial to the greatest number of individuals. Not just to Humans, but to all of the species in the Federation. It could be argued that the effect extends to a large number of species in the Delta Quadrant as well. You took a very great risk with the futures of billions of individuals, and that risk appears to have paid off. But winning a gamble once does not increase your odds the second time. Any choice other than the one you made could just as easily have destroyed the futures of those same billions of individuals.”

“Whoa.” Her eyes were wide. “Now that I hadn’t thought of. Not like that.”

“It is illogical to berate yourself for not further risking the lives of billions. It is also illogical to allow yourself to focus on a past which cannot be changed, rather than a present, which can. We have a criminal to locate and apprehend. You have a financial empire sitting in limbo, waiting for you to make decisions. The government of the Federation itself is waiting for you to make decisions.” He raised his voice very slightly, taking on the tone he often did as her savensu. “A ta’nek does not sit idly by while action is required. Your Savdaa was nearly perfect today. Your actions as a ta’nek are not.”

She stared at him for a long time without speaking, but he had said all that needed to be said. And it was enough, he knew, by the way her gaze sharpened.

“All right, then,” she said, standing up straight and extending an arm toward the door. “Shall we go inside? If I’m not mistaken, you’re in the middle of an investigation.”

“That is correct,” he said, as they moved away from the railing. “Admiral Paris and Captain Janeway are waiting for a progress report.”

She activated the door and stepped inside. “Great,” she said over her shoulder. “Then you can report that my ass has been sufficiently kicked.”

 

 

 

 

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chapter 28

 

 

Alison couldn’t help her sense of dèjá vu as she stood in the building lobby, waiting for Lynne Hamilton and her entourage. And yet, today’s meeting was going to be a far cry from the first one a week earlier. Then she’d been merely a liaison between Lynne and the board officers. Though the results of that meeting would certainly affect her, she hadn’t been a direct player. Today, however, she was involved in a way she’d never anticipated. And she was quite sure that Brian, Charles and Elise wouldn’t be expecting it either.

Right on time, a large hovercraft purred up the street and landed directly in front of the building entrance. A small mob of people spilled out of it, forming a tight group that moved up the steps toward her. Lynne was in the center, half a head taller than most of the rest of the group, and even from this distance Alison could sense the energy coming off her. It no longer surprised her, however—she’d had ample time to get used to it during the strategy planning sessions at Admiral Paris’ home. It had taken the better part of two days to give Lynne a crash course in board member biographies and personalities, past and current Foundation projects, and some of the intricacies of how the Foundation was tied into Starfleet and Federation programs. Though Lynne had studied the information Alison had sent to Voyager during their communications, it wasn’t the same thing as having a real-time question and answer session. Those sessions had been eye-opening for Alison, who had been more and more amazed at how quickly Lynne understood and how much she retained of the enormous amounts of information she was being bombarded with. When Lynne had finally explained exactly what it was that enabled her mental abilities, Alison had needed a little time to adapt to the concept. Even now she could hardly wrap her mind around the idea that her new employer had a Borg implant in her brain.

Besides the Foundation work, Lynne had wanted to know more about her private funds and their management, and they’d spent some time finding the right people to consult. That had been eye-opening, too, for different reasons. Overall, Alison was pleased with the results of the strategy sessions, and had developed an entirely new view of her employer in the process. Her aunt had been right—she’d underestimated the woman. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.

The legal recognition had come through on the first day of their sessions, to everyone’s enormous relief. Lynne had immediately signed the testament and fund management policy that Alison had written earlier, and since they already had the people they needed in Admiral Paris’ house, the signature was properly witnessed and the document filed. Alison had wasted no time notifying the board officers of this development, and the tension in the Paris home had instantly and palpably lessened. If the killer had indeed wanted Lynne dead to prevent any change in the current fund management situation—and Alison couldn’t think of any other possible reason—that incentive was now gone.

The next step was calling a meeting of the board. Not just the officers, but the full board. It was time to introduce Lynne Hamilton as the de jure head of the Foundation.

The large doors whooshed open, and Lynne smiled at her as she came in. She looked every centimeter the executive in her black suit and white shirt, but the polished boots were Starfleet and the long, silver-streaked dark hair was left free instead of worn up in a professional style. Alison knew Lynne’s appearance was just as much a statement as the hovercraft left parked in the street, and guessed that word would be traveling through the Foundation grapevine right about…now.

Behind Lynne were Kathryn, Revi, Seven of Nine, Commander Tuvok, and Saator, Lynne’s lawyer. He had come recommended by Commander Tuvok, and upon checking his background, Alison had found an impressive array of degrees and legal accomplishments. Saator was more than capable of handling anything that might come up during this transition phase, and his Vulcan calm was just as valuable as his experience.

Lynne stopped in front of her. “Long time no see. Ready?”

“Not really,” said Alison truthfully. “But it’s not going to get any better with time, so we might as well get it over with.”

“Yes, it will. Everything does, believe me. Is everyone here?”

“All assembled in the conference room, waiting for the mysterious Ms. Hamilton. Probably not any too patiently, either.”

Lynne held out an arm toward the lift. “Let’s go, then. I’ve got some people to piss off.”

As Alison turned toward the lift, Kathryn fell in beside her. “I’d advise you to take the seat nearest the door,” she said in a low voice, and Alison found herself smiling despite her apprehension.

“You think it’ll be that bad?”

“You’ve seen Lynne these past few days. She’s found an outlet at last.”

Alison didn’t understand the reference, but they were all piling into the lift and she had no time to ask. As they walked down the top floor corridor, she took a few deep breaths to tamp down the tingle in her stomach. For the love of God, she’d been dealing with contentious meetings and powerful people her entire career; this was just one more. There was no reason to be so stressed.

Yes there is, she thought as she arrived at the conference room doors. She reached for the keypad, only to find Lynne’s hand there first.

“If I may,” said Lynne. She tapped the key and strode into the room almost before the doors were fully opened. “Hello, everyone,” she said, dropping her PADD on the shiny surface of the conference table.

Alison was right behind her as the room erupted into a symphony of scraping chairs. All nine members of the Foundation’s board rose, with Brian at the head.

“Ms. Hamilton, it’s good to see you again,” he said. “Welcome back.”

“Thank you. And thank you all for coming on such short notice.” She rested a hand on the chair she’d chosen. It was at the foot of the table, and as the other members of her party filed in to take their seats, Alison realized that this was another intentional visual statement. She wondered if Kathryn had given Lynne a quick training in techniques for commanding a room, because she was already doing an excellent job of it. The mere fact of her standing at one end of the table, while her party sat around her, had shifted the focus of the room. The foot of the table had just become the head.

“Let me introduce you to the rest of the board,” said Brian. He turned to his left and opened his mouth to speak, but Lynne beat him to it.

“No need,” she said. With a quick stride, she walked to the nearest board member and held out her hand. “Carlos, it’s nice to meet you. I’m guessing Denver is a bit brisk compared with Lisbon this time of year.”

“It is,” said Carlos Mourinho, shaking her hand and looking a little surprised. “But I always like coming here. We don’t get too much snow in Lisbon.”

“No, but you get it in the Serra da Estrela.”

His startled look turned into incredulous appreciation. “You’ve been there?”

“Once, a long time ago. A climbing friend of mine wanted to show me that there were other mountains in Iberia besides the Pyrenees.”

He laughed. “Clearly your friend wasn’t Spanish. They think the Pyrenees are the only mountains in all of southern Europe.”

“No, he was Portuguese,” she agreed. “But now you’ve got me curious. Europe is part of a global government now, but it sounds like a lot of those old regional prejudices still exist.”

“Oh, of course they do. I know you come from the beginning of the twenty-first century, Ms. Hamilton, but that’s less than four centuries ago. Four hundred years isn’t nearly long enough to erase all of those ancient social differences. We might need another thousand.”

She touched him lightly on the arm. “Please, call me Lynne. And I’d love to talk with you about that sometime.”

“It would be my pleasure,” he said, stepping aside to give her room to go on. With a nod, she moved to the next board member and held out her hand.

“Melanie, hello,” she said. “I’m glad to meet another Hamilton. And I’d have recognized you as Elise’s mother even if I hadn’t known it beforehand.”

Melanie glanced over at Elise, who smiled and shrugged. Though Melanie’s hair had long since turned silver while Elise’s was still a glossy black, their light gray eyes were unusual and unmistakable. Turning back, she took Lynne’s hand and said, “It’s hard to miss that family nose. Her brother Stephen has it, too.”

“But it looks better on me than it does on him,” said Elise, causing a round of chuckles in the room. Not everyone was smiling, though, and Alison noticed that Adele Hamilton wasn’t looking nearly so charmed as the other board members. In fact, her expression was faintly distasteful as she watched Lynne and Melanie making their small talk. Of course, Adele often had that expression, so it was difficult to determine whether it meant anything or not. Sometimes Alison wondered what Charles had been thinking when he married her; they were polar opposites in personality. But perhaps Charles had been looking at something other than her personality.

Lynne made her way methodically around the table, greeting each of the six regular board members by name and putting them at ease with some personal comment. It was an excellent performance, and even though Alison knew exactly how much forethought had gone into producing it, she couldn’t help but be impressed by the result. By the looks on their faces, most of the board members were equally impressed, though at the same time they were still a bit wary of this new person in their midst. Lynne clearly knew a lot about them, but they knew very little about her, and none of the people on this board were the type to be comfortable with an imbalance of information.

After shaking Kirabo Koekemoer’s hand and briefly discussing how far African politics had come in four hundred years, Lynne turned to her own group and began introducing them. She stepped from one to the next as she gave their names and a two- or three-sentence biography, and Alison enjoyed watching as the regular board members realized who their guests were. She thought she even detected a little awe from several of them when Captain Janeway was introduced, but they were all too well-bred to say anything.

“Well, now that the formalities are over, shall we get down to business?” asked Brian. There was a general shuffling as everyone returned to their chairs. Kathryn flashed Alison a quick smile as they sat next to each other, and Alison remembered her comment about sitting close to the door. She glanced toward the door, then back at Kathryn, who covered up a snort and nodded her head.

When the shifting had settled, Brian opened the meeting with the ease of a man used to control. “Ms. Hamilton, I took the liberty of asking the board to convene an hour prior to your arrival. I’ve briefed everyone on the true history of the Foundation and your role in recent events, so you won’t have to cover that territory.”

“And a few of us were very surprised, I can tell you,” said Kirabo in her rich voice. “We had no idea.”

“Nor were you supposed to,” said Brian patiently. “Not until the situation had been resolved.”

“Yes, but I did notice that we weren’t all surprised,” said Saleh bin Tariq, fixing his dark eyes on Adele.

“Oh, give it a rest,” said Adele. “I don’t think it’s unreasonable that family members would know a family issue before the whole board does.”

“But this is not just a family issue, is it?” asked Carlos.

“Enough,” said Brian, without raising his voice. “Who did or did not know the full truth regarding Ms. Hamilton is no longer important. You all know it now. What we need to be discussing is her place within the Foundation, and its future direction.”

“Are you interested in the day-to-day operations of the Foundation, Ms. Hamilton?” asked Nadia Cristescu.

“Lynne, please, not Ms. Hamilton. And the answer is no, not in the slightest, so don’t be tossing around titles like president. And the CEO post is already taken by someone highly qualified.” She sent a quick smile in Alison’s direction. “I’m interested only in guiding the missions and goals, which would mean a role on the board. Now, I know my parents left instructions that I should take over as Chair. But I also know that I’m not qualified for that. So I’m open to alternative suggestions.”

“Well, a seat on the board shouldn’t be a problem,” said Charles. “As long as you don’t want to be Treasurer.” He laughed at his own joke, and Elise chuckled as well.

“Or Vice Chair,” she added. “That one’s taken.”

“Actually,” said Lynne calmly, “I’m not certain that any of the officer positions should be considered taken right now. The board may soon need to reconsider who’s filling which role.”

Here we go, thought Alison. She looked around the table and saw the surprise she’d expected. What she hadn’t expected was the brief look of amusement on Carlos’ face.

Brian was the first to recover. “Perhaps you can explain your reasoning behind that suggestion.”

“I’d be happy to. And then you’ll understand why I’ve brought so many guests besides my lawyer, which I’m sure you’ve been wondering about.”

“We have,” said Saleh. Several of the others nodded.

“First I have a question of my own. Brian, did you brief them on the assassination attempt?”

“Yes, I did.”

“And we were horrified, believe me,” put in Melanie. “We are so sorry that you had to go through that. It’s simply incomprehensible.”

“What a terrible homecoming,” added Kirabo. A general murmur of agreement filled the room.

“Thank you,” said Lynne, looking at each in turn. “Unfortunately, there was not just one attempt. There were two.” Over the gasps, she continued, “The second was four days ago, on a ski run in the middle of nowhere. They not only knew where I was, they even had my resort badge information. And they ruined my best run of the day. But at least this time they were just trying to kill me, and not my friends as well.”

Several of the board members spoke at once.

“How did you escape?”

“What happened?”

“Did they get away?” That last was from Charles, and Alison looked at him with narrowed eyes.

“Damn it!” swore Brian. “Why didn’t you stay at Starfleet Headquarters?”

“Because the first attempt took place on Voyager, right on the front lawn of Starfleet Headquarters, with a full contingent of security officers on board. Starfleet can’t keep me safe. For all we know, there might be Starfleet personnel involved.” She shifted her gaze to Charles. “And no, they didn’t get away.”

Once again the members talked over each other, but they all seemed to be asking the same question. Lynne raised her voice to be heard. “I don’t know how it happened. That’s what we’d like to find out. But we do know one thing: someone tried to have me killed after my first meeting here, after the officers of this board knew that I was who I claimed to be. Clearly, that person—or persons—had a very great interest in making sure that my identity was never confirmed by the Federation. If I’d died before that confirmation, and before my testament could be filed, the current arrangement regarding my trust fund and its managers would have remained static.”

All of the board members turned toward the other end of the table, where Brian, Charles and Elise sat with nearly identical expressions of dismay. Brian shook his head. “You can all stop looking at me like that. I had nothing to do with it. I’m just as shocked as you are. Actually I’m outraged.”

“So am I.” “Me too,” said Elise and Charles at the same time.

“God,” added Elise, “this is unbelievable! No one even knew where you were! We offered you the full financial capacity of the Foundation to take whatever security precautions you needed. We tried to protect you.”

“That’s the problem. I can’t trust that you weren’t simply trying give the appearance of protecting me,” said Lynne. She held up her hand, forestalling their objections. “I’m not accusing any of you. I can’t, there isn’t enough evidence. But I have to acknowledge that the officers of this board are the three most likely suspects of my attempted murder.”

“And that is the reason for my presence,” said Commander Tuvok, speaking for the first time.

“You’re her bodyguard?” asked Carlos.

“No, that would be me,” said Kathryn.

“And me,” added Revi.

“And me.” Seven looked around the room as if daring any one of them to try anything.

Lynne’s lips twitched into a tiny smile, but Tuvok went on as if they hadn’t spoken. “I’m here as a representative of Starfleet, in whose jurisdiction this investigation has fallen. When this board meeting is concluded, I would like to speak with the three of you.”

“We’re under investigation?” asked Charles incredulously.

“Of course we are,” said Brian, giving his son-in-law an almost contemptuous look. “We will be happy to give you any information you require, Commander. The sooner this is cleared up, the better off we’ll all be.”

“Speak for yourself,” said Elise. She was rigid in her chair, and her speech had become clipped. “I for one am not happy at all. I’ve done nothing and I don’t appreciate being accused of murder.”

“Attempted murder,” corrected Tuvok.

“Whatever! I didn’t do it! And I can’t believe Brian or Charles would, either. You’re looking at the wrong people, Commander. We didn’t even know where she was. How did the killer know that, hm?” She turned a hard stare on Alison. “As I recall, you were the only person they trusted with that information. Are you investigating her, too?”

“I already have.”

Alison looked at him, startled. He had?

“And?” Elise demanded.

“She is not a suspect at this time. She had nothing to gain by the death of Ms. Hamilton.”

“Well then, how did it happen? How did that information get out?”

Alison met her stare with a schooled expression of calm. “Someone planted a microtransmitter in my office. I have no idea how long it was there, but someone has been listening to everything I’ve said, and everything anyone else in my office has said. Which is how they heard Lynne and Kathryn tell me where they were going.”

“Jesus,” murmured Nadia.

Elise’s glare did not diminish at this news, but Alison refused to back down. Only when Tuvok spoke again did Elise look away, leaving Alison to take a quiet, calming breath. Emotions were already running high, and the meeting had barely started.

“We’re tracing the components of the transmitter now,” Tuvok was saying. “In addition, I’ll be speaking to Foundation employees, attempting to determine who had access to Dr. Necheyev’s office. The assassins are professionals, but the person or persons who hired them are not. We will find out who is responsible.”

The room was quiet for a moment. Tuvok’s voice had carried absolute certainty, and Alison for one believed him. He had a way of inspiring confidence.

“Which brings us back to the issue of the officer positions,” said Lynne. “It’s very likely that this board will experience a shakeup when Tuvok’s investigation is concluded. However, I have no intention of waiting for the end of that investigation to do a little shaking up of my own.”

“With all due respect,” said Brian, “we’ve held no elections. It may be merely a formality, but you’re not even a member of this board yet. I don’t blame you for wanting to take some form of action, but acting out against us when you have no proof is not in your best interests.”

“I have no intention of dictating to this board. It will make its own decisions regarding the officers when that time comes. But I do have full control over my personal trust fund now, and that also means control over my choice of fund managers. And I’m not interested in retaining fund managers who are currently under suspicion of trying to murder me. So consider this your notice. Brian, Charles, Elise—as of this moment you’re all fired.”

“What?” Charles was white faced.

“I recognize that this is completely unfair to whichever of you are not involved in this mess,” Lynne continued, ignoring Charles. “So here’s the deal. Help Tuvok find out who’s responsible. You’re the ones who know each other the best. You’re our best hope of catching whoever considers my life, and the lives of my friends and crewmates, to be worth less than an annual income. When this is resolved, I’ll revisit today’s decision. But until then, your income from my funds has just come to an end. Your names have already been removed from all of my holdings. Mr. Saator has copies of the notifications for each of you; we’ll need your thumbprint signatures to acknowledge that you’ve received them.” She took a breath. “I apologize to those of you for whom this is an unjust punishment, but it has to stand until I know who I can trust.”

“You can’t—” Adele began, but then stopped, her lips pressed in a thin line. Lynne watched her, waiting for her to finish the sentence, but Adele sat back in her chair and glared at her husband. For his part, Charles looked positively ill.

“Ms. Hamilton is well within her rights.” Saator’s voice was deep and measured, his Vulcan calm a contrast to the tension in the room. “The moment her identity was confirmed by the Federation, she assumed ownership over her trust fund. How she chooses to administer those funds is now entirely up to her.”

“Of course it is,” said Brian, his eyes on Lynne. “But I would caution you against making hasty decisions. Your funds are immense and complex. Firing the three people who are the most familiar with the complexities may cause financial consequences that will be very difficult to recover from.”

“I realize that. But I have two things in my favor. One, I have more money than God. I could lose ninety-nine percent of it and still be wealthier than I’ve ever dreamed. And two, I’ve already hired an excellent manager.”

“For your sake I hope he’s extremely competent,” Brian said.

“Well, I haven’t known her long, but Dr. Necheyev strikes me as one of the most competent people I’ve ever met.”

Alison braced herself as every eye in the room turned to her. Carlos had that amused expression on his face again, Kirabo and Nadia actually looked rather admiring, and Saleh was clearly surprised. But the five Hamiltons on the board were staring at her with varying mixtures of disbelief, contempt, and anger.

“You have got to be kidding me,” said Elise. “She’s not a financial analyst!”

“No, but neither are you,” said Alison. “You contracted that responsibility out to another firm. I can do the same thing.”

“You think it’s that easy? An investment firm can’t make the decisions. Are you qualified to do that?”

“Dr. Necheyev is responsible only for the bottom line,” said Lynne. “How she gets there is her own business. If she contracts the majority of that task to a reputable firm, that’s fine with me. At least she has the capability of determining which firm that should be, and monitoring its progress, which is more than I can do at the moment. Besides, she has the same incentive to succeed that the fund managers have always had—two and a half percent of the annual gains. Times three, of course, since she’s now the only manager.”

“You’re giving her seven and a half percent?” asked Charles faintly.

“Oh, this is rich!” Elise was bristling. “Don’t you see what’s going on here? She’s the only one who knew where you were, someone tries to kill you, and now you’re rewarding her?”

“Ms. Hamilton,” rumbled Saator, “I am not your lawyer, but I would nevertheless caution you against making such accusations.”

Next to him, Tuvok nodded. “Dr. Necheyev has been eliminated from my list of suspects. You have not.”

Elise gave him a look that Alison interpreted as eliminate this, then turned to her uncle. “Then perhaps the board should take a vote on whether to retain Dr. Necheyev as CEO. Since there seems to be a conflict of interest here.”

“You will not have my support if you call that to vote,” said Kirabo immediately. “My oath was to uphold the best interests of the Foundation. Firing Dr. Necheyev based on suspicion, despite her having been cleared of all wrongdoing by a Starfleet investigation, would not be in those interests. If we did that, we might as well fire the officers as well. Until we have proof, this board should not take any action to remove any individual.”

Saleh, Carlos and Nadia all nodded, quietly voicing agreement, but Elise was not in the mood for sensibility. “I’m sure we could come up with a majority without your assistance,” she said.

“Not without me,” said Brian. As Elise stared at him in surprise, he added, “Kirabo’s right. In addition, there is no conflict of interest. Lynne’s private trust is separate from the Foundation funds, just as it was when we managed it. So long as Dr. Necheyev has the time—and the expertise—then she’s fully capable of fulfilling her duty to both without compromising one or the other.”

“Thank you,” said Alison. “I recognize my own lack of expertise in this matter, and though I’ll certainly do my best, it’s not a position I would have applied for under ordinary circumstances.”

“Oh, I suppose you’re doing it as a favor,” said Adele.

“Actually, I am.”

Adele and Elise let out nearly identical snorts. Though Melanie hadn’t said anything, her expression was thunderous. Charles still seemed to be in a state of shocked disbelief, but Brian was looking at her thoughtfully. Then he shifted his gaze to Lynne and said, “Dr. Necheyev has performed admirably for the Foundation, and I’ve no doubt she’ll do the same for you, so far as it’s within her capabilities. But she understands the limitations of those capabilities, perhaps better than you do. I would strongly urge you to retain at least one other manager who is more experienced in the demands of the position. This is not a request for reinstatement. It’s merely advice.”

“I understand,” said Lynne. “And I appreciate it. But all of you seem to think this is about money, and whether or not my funds keep making more of it. It’s not about that at all. It’s about who I can trust, and that’s Alison. She wasn’t lying when she said this was a favor to me—I had to talk her into it. But the sad truth is, I’m sitting in a room full of Hamiltons, and I don’t know which of them might have tried to kill me. Apparently family doesn’t mean the same thing it did in my time.”

The room was silent for a moment as her words sank in. Then Carlos leaned forward and said, “With all due respect, you’re wrong about that. Family does mean the same thing now as it did then. Or it should.”

Kirabo nodded. “That’s right. I’m appalled at the homecoming you’ve received. Your family name should tell you precisely who you can trust. That it does not is a grave injustice, and I sincerely hope that no one in this room is responsible for that.”

“It’s more than an injustice,” said Saleh. “It is morally wrong. Please don’t take this as an example of how our culture is based in this century. If you bore the name of bint Tariq I would embrace you as my own, and protect you against all who would wish you harm. That’s the blessing and the responsibility of family.” His thick eyebrows drew together as he looked at Elise. “One of your own has come back to your family from the past, and your response is to propose firing the one person that Lynne feels she can trust? Simply because she trusts her? There are no words to politely express what I think of that.”

“Thank you,” Lynne said. “I appreciate that support. And I’m sure you can all understand why I had to remove any financial incentive for killing me, regardless of who might or might not be involved. You should also know that I’ve gone to the media. No, not about the murder attempts,” she added as several board members started to speak. “I don’t want any negative publicity for the Foundation. But I’ve been informed that eventually the word will get out about who I am and where—or when I came from. I decided to make that happen sooner rather than later. You’ll be seeing it on FedComm tomorrow. So if I suddenly die a mysterious death, there’s going to be a media storm descending on the Hamilton Foundation. Whoever is responsible for this is now operating in a very public arena.”

“Smart,” said Nadia. “I think you’ve taken some very necessary steps. Difficult, but necessary. And I hope this situation is resolved very soon, not just for your sake but also for the sake of the Foundation.” She looked around the table. “Shall we get back to our agenda, then? We were discussing which role Lynne will play on the board.”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” said Saleh. “There really is only one position that makes sense, both in terms of her current capabilities and her future path. I move that we elect Lynne Hamilton to the board—as Vice Chair.”

“Excuse me?” said Elise in disbelief.

“What’s your rationale, Saleh?” asked Brian. “I trust you’re making this motion in the interest of the Foundation, and not as a punitive measure against Elise.”

“I hope you know me better than that. Lynne has already said she’s not interested in the day-to-day operations, so positioning her as president is not an option. She is interested in directing policy. That means she’s best suited to the board. Now it has always been clear that the Foundation is a family operation—the fact that the Hamiltons hold a majority on the board makes that self-evident. So family should be taken into consideration when deciding her role on the board. As the senior member by far of the Hamilton family, as the daughter of the founders, and—as we’ve just learned—the reason this Foundation even exists, I believe she should hold the role of Chair. This is also the role the founders wished her to take. But it’s also clear that she’s not yet ready for that responsibility, and won’t be until she’s learned far more about not just the Foundation, but the world in which it operates. So she needs a role that not only acknowledges her status, but enables her to learn what she should know before assuming the Chair. And the best position for accomplishing both of those objectives is that of Vice Chair.”

Alison sat back in her seat, fighting down a smile. It was precisely what Lynne had been aiming for, but she hadn’t wanted to be the one to suggest it. Now that Saleh had done it for her, it would be difficult for the Board to reject—largely because it made perfect sense.

By the expression on his face, Brian thought so too. “Does anyone else have further input for Saleh’s proposal?”

“Just that I agree with it,” said Kirabo. “I think it’s an elegant solution for a rather unusual situation.”

“Elegant for everyone but Elise,” said Melanie. “She’s done a fine job as Vice Chair and had every reason to expect that she would take over as Chair upon Brian’s retirement. How can we expect her to step down now, simply because we need to find a position for Lynne? Is that really in the best interest of the Foundation, to lose Elise’s expertise and replace it with a complete lack of it? No offense,” she added, glancing at Lynne.

“None taken,” said Lynne mildly. “But you might find that I have more expertise than you’re assuming. For instance, I know that before the abrupt shift in policy caused by my parents’ orders, the Foundation was considering the possibility of branching out into research on teleportation, which has the potential of revolutionizing space travel but also carries an extremely high cost-to-results ratio. It would be a substantial shift of funding. I’m familiar with the current body of study in that field, and I can make a valuable contribution to our discussion of whether Foundation funds should be risked on that concept. I also know every project the Foundation has funded in the last ten years, what it’s funding now, what it’s considering funding in the future, and what Starfleet is asking it to support. And I’m familiar with how the Foundation, Starfleet, and the Federation have grown together, and what the political, economic and military ramifications of our current policy have been.”

Half of the board was looking at Lynne with expressions of surprised approval, but not everyone was impressed.

“So you’ve done your homework, then,” said Adele, effortlessly dismissing what Alison knew had been a heroic effort. “That’s admirable, but being Vice Chair isn’t just about knowing where the Foundation is spending its money. It’s also about knowing how to bring more money in. It’s about knowing the right people, and recruiting them into our interests. You may be intelligent and prepared, but that kind of social network can’t be crammed into an all-night study session. It has to be developed. Elise has been developing hers all her adult life.”

“That would be the point of making her Vice Chair,” said Kirabo patiently. “So that Brian could take her under his wing and bring her into that network. The title is important to that objective. Which is why I’m seconding the motion.”

Alison noted that Kirabo was assuming Brian’s innocence, but she could certainly understand it. She was having a hard time suspecting him, too, and his behavior in this meeting was making it even more difficult.

“Elise will not be losing her place on the board,” added Carlos. “Her expertise, her experience, her knowledge and her network will all continue to be available to the Foundation—unless she chooses to resign, of course. Saleh is only proposing a change of title.”

“Don’t even pretend that title doesn’t mean something.” Melanie seemed to be entering a parental mode of defending her daughter, and had given up attempting to sound impartial. “She’s worked for it and she’s earned it.”

“I agree,” said Charles, who had finally recovered his voice. “Elise has worked for this board since practically the moment she finished her graduate degree. She has earned her title.”

“Lynne has survived alien abduction, temporal displacement, Borg assimilation, life-threatening injuries in a firefight, and two assassination attempts just to sit here in this room and speak to you about her parents’ legacy,” said Alison. “What has that earned her?”

The entire board looked over at Lynne in startled silence.

“Brian,” said Kirabo, “I think that biography you gave us of Lynne was missing a few important parts.”

“I think so too,” said Brian, still staring. He shook his head and said, “I’m satisfied that the motion was brought with an appropriate purpose. I also think further discussion is probably not going to change anyone’s mind about their vote. So—all in favor?”

Saleh, Kirabo, Carlos and Nadia all lifted their hands. “Aye.”

“And against.”

Charles, Melanie, Elise and Adele raised theirs. “Nay.”

Alison almost rolled her eyes. That couldn’t possibly have been more predictable—a Hamilton party-line vote. Elise was already looking triumphant, but Brian’s gaze was on Lynne.

“Before I give my vote, I want you to understand something about the Chair’s role on this board. Where the other members must look to the interests of the Foundation, I have the additional responsibility of interpreting the original wishes of the founders. Most of the time, those wishes coincide with what we feel is in the Foundation’s interests. Occasionally, such as when we radically altered our mission upon discovering your existence, they do not. Interpreting the wishes of people who formed a foundation nearly four hundred years ago is not always easy, nor is it something I’m always comfortable doing. I think, however, that would be a valuable role you could bring to the board. You know better than anyone here what your parents would have wanted.”

Lynne nodded, waiting.

“Elise is my niece. I’ve groomed her for the position of Chair, and she has a great deal of valuable experience. If I were voting solely on what I felt to be the best interests of the Foundation, I would vote nay. But this is one of those times when interpreting the founders’ wishes is quite simple. This is the Lynne D. Hamilton Foundation. Your parents wanted you as its head. So I have to vote aye.” His gaze shifted to Elise, who was staring at him in silent shock. “I’m sorry, Elise. That’s my decision.”

“And it’s a bad one,” said Melanie. “I disagree with your reasoning and I think you put entirely too much weight on interpretation.”

“There’s no interpretation involved,” he said patiently. “Lynne’s parents created this Foundation with the single purpose of enabling technology that would put the Human race into the stars. They didn’t do that solely out of a desire to advance science. They did it to make sure that when the time came, we’d have the technology to rescue their daughter. They even left orders that if Lynne were found, the entire resources of the Foundation should be diverted specifically to technologies that could bring her home. And then they left the future of the Foundation in her hands—this board isn’t deciding what the current mission should be; she is. Unless she chooses to bring the board into that discussion. Now, if she wanted, she could have walked in here, acknowledged her identity, and told us to carry on while she got back to her life. She has chosen instead to take an active role. I don’t think the board can do anything else but honor what her parents clearly wished for her.”

“Her parents couldn’t have had any idea what this Foundation would turn into,” argued Melanie. “They could never have anticipated its impact on an entire interplanetary government. If they had, they wouldn’t have left such decisions in the hands of someone they knew could not possibly be prepared for them. You’re making assumptions, and dangerous ones at that. This is a decision that has long term ramifications for the Foundation.”

“Yes, it does. And exactly what those ramifications are depends entirely on Lynne.” He turned his gaze on the subject of their argument.

“I understand,” said Lynne. “Believe me, I want what’s best for the Foundation. My parents left me a legacy, and it’s all I have left of them. So you can bet that I’ll do everything in my power to keep that legacy strong.”

“That’s all we can ask for. In fact, that’s nearly the wording of your officer’s oath,” said Brian. He looked around the table. “The vote stands, and I don’t see any advantage in discussing it further.”

“Then I resign as Secretary,” said Charles.

“What?! Why?” demanded Adele, staring at her husband.

“Because it’s not fair that I should hold an officer’s position when Elise isn’t. I joined this board when I married into the family; she’s been here a lot longer.”

“Thanks, Charles,” said Elise. “But I’m not sure that’s fair to you either. And frankly, I don’t really want to be Secretary.”

“Hasn’t anyone considered the option of co-vice chairs?” asked Lynne. “Or isn’t that done anymore?”

The board members looked at each other.

“Well, that is an old fashioned solution,” said Nadia. “But it might suit.”

Brian’s surprise was showing on his face. “I remember reading about that in a history text, years ago. I’m sorry I never thought of it. It would certainly raise eyebrows in the business community, but…do we care?”

“I’m not sure why it should raise eyebrows,” said Lynne, “but I think the fact that you’ve got a four-hundred-year-old woman on your board will already do that. So why not raise them a little higher?”

“What do you think, Elise?” asked Saleh. “To be honest, if I’d remembered that from my own history courses, I’d have proposed that instead.”

“I think I’d rather not lose something I’ve worked my entire adult life for. If that means sharing the role, then I guess I have no choice. Though the title is ridiculous.” Elise looked over at Lynne. “Thank you for making the offer.”

“You’re welcome.”

“It won’t be a ridiculous title forever,” said Brian. “Let’s not forget that Lynne’s position as Vice Chair is fully intended to prepare her for the role as Chair. When I resign, she’ll take my title and you can drop the ‘co’ from yours.”

Elise looked as if she were about to say something, but managed to stop herself. Alison thought she could make a pretty good guess at what had been going through her mind, though. ‘Small consolation’ didn’t begin to cover what the former heir apparent must be feeling.

When the motion was put to a vote, it passed unanimously, though the ‘ayes’ of Elise, Melanie and Adele were notable for their lack of enthusiasm.

“Let the record show that Lynne and Elise Hamilton are now Co-Vice Chairs of the board,” said Brian. “Welcome to the board, Lynne.”

“Thank you.”

Most of the other members echoed Brian’s welcome, but before the moment could become awkward due to a lack of full participation, Brian moved them on to the next topic.

“We have one other important bit of business to cover: the mission of the Foundation. We altered it in late 2376, when news of Lynne’s existence activated the old instructions of her parents. Those instructions have now been fulfilled. In fact, the original purpose of the Foundation’s very existence has been fulfilled. We now stand on the edge of a new era. Lynne, this is the one matter of Foundation business for which you have sole voting privileges, though you may choose to put it to a board vote if you wish. If you choose to return the Foundation to its original mission, it can be accomplished immediately. If you are considering any other alternative, I would strongly recommend that you open it to a board discussion and vote. Since you’ve educated yourself on the various ramifications of our current situation, I’m sure you understand that this is a decision of paramount importance. It would not be in the best interests of the Foundation to make any sort of hasty or uninformed decision.”

“I understand that,” said Lynne. “Which is precisely why I’m not prepared to make a decision at this time.”

“Oh, here we go.” Adele rolled her eyes. “Is this what you all wanted when you elected her Vice Chair? What the hell decision is there to make? Just tell us that you want to return the mission to its original wording. It’s not that hard.”

“Hey, Adele?” Lynne waited until their eyes met. “Shut up.” As Adele’s mouth dropped open in surprise, Lynne added, “I’m not some idiot off the street, and I don’t appreciate being treated that way. If you think I’m going to politely sit here and let shitty little comments like that go by me, then you’d better think again.” She looked around the table. “I said I’d do my best to keep my parents’ legacy strong, and I meant that. This policy has stood for fourteen months; it can stand for another few days or weeks. I promise that we’ll revisit it just as soon as I have the necessary information for an informed choice. As Brian said, this is a decision of paramount importance. I’m not rushing into anything. In the meantime, if anyone has firm ideas of other funding directions that the Foundation might consider, please send them to me. I’d like to take a little time to get more thoroughly acquainted with the possibilities before bringing the discussion back to the board.”

“Then you do plan to bring it before the board,” said Brian. “Are you also planning to share the responsibility of this decision?”

“When was the board scheduled for its next regular meeting?” she asked.

“In three weeks.”

“I’ll let you know then.”

The room was quiet for a few moments, until Brian said, “Well, that was possibly the shortest policy discussion we’ve ever had. Is there any other business we need to discuss?” He met each board member’s eyes in turn and waited as they shook their heads. “Then we’re adjourned. Our next meeting will be at the normal time, unless Lynne notifies me earlier that she’s come to a resolution on the matter of our mission. Lynne, I’ll have your officer’s oath sent to you for thumbprint signature.”

Amid the general shuffling of chairs, Alison leaned over to Kathryn and murmured, “She got what she wanted. But she also has Adele and Melanie in a solid bloc against her, probably Charles too since he won’t often go against his wife, and she made a serious enemy out of Adele within two minutes of her election.”

“I know,” said Kathryn. “I’m amazed it took her that long.”

 

 

 

 

---

chapter 29

 

 

“You know what?” asked Lynne as she accepted a glass of soda and lime from Alison. “That was actually fun! I think I could get into this.”

Kathryn couldn’t help but smile at her wife. With the exception of Tuvok and Saator, who were now speaking with the officers of the board, their group had moved to Alison’s office for refreshments and a little post-meeting relaxation. The last time they’d been here, Lynne had just survived a Cardassian attack and was shaken, angry, distrustful and more than a little lost. Now she was smiling at Alison and glowing with the knowledge that she was in the game, rather than just a victim of it.

What a difference eight days made.

When Kathryn had asked Tuvok to speak with Lynne in San Diego, she’d hoped he could get through to her. What she hadn’t dared hope was that he would reawaken the competitive instinct that was so much a part of who Lynne was. But the moment Lynne had come back into the house with him, something was different. She’d listened to his progress report in silence, but her whole body radiated determination and a kind of edgy impatience. The evidence Tuvok had already gathered seemed to galvanize her further, and when he was finished, she sketched out a strategy that had surprised Kathryn. For a while, Lynne hadn’t even been sure she wanted anything to do with the Foundation. Now she wanted to run it?

When Kathryn had gotten a chance to ask what had happened, Lynne had shrugged and said, “I’ve been sitting on my ass long enough. It’s time to get off it and do something. Besides, these people are pissing me off. They’re holding my parents’ legacy, and at least one of them is making a mockery out of it. And that I will not stand for.” But Kathryn knew there was a little more to it than that. After being tumbled around by events out of her control, Lynne had finally stopped, dug her heels in, and taken charge. It was good to see.

Kathryn accepted her own glass from Alison and raised it in a toast. “To the new Co-Vice Chair of the Hamilton Foundation board!”

“Hear, hear!” Five glasses clinked together as Revi, Seven, Alison and Lynne joined her in the toast.

“So it was fun, huh?” asked Revi when they’d finished their drink. “Funny, a couple of days ago you were dreading it. I distinctly recall being asked to attend just for moral support.”

“Haven’t you ever dreaded something you weren’t sure you were ready for? And then when you actually pulled it off, you wanted to go back and do it again?”

“I don’t think anyone else in that room would want to do that again,” said Kathryn. “They’ve been traumatized enough for one day.” Lynne beamed at her before taking another sip.

“I would never have thought of that co-chair strategy,” Alison said. “There’s one advantage you’ve got that nobody else can touch—a knowledge of arcane business practices.”

“Thanks. My arcane knowledge has come in handy a couple of times.” Lynne winked at her. “But really, I don’t know a lot about business. I tried to stay away from that stuff.”

“I’m curious,” said Seven. “If you knew that being a co-chair would satisfy your purpose, why didn’t you suggest it earlier, when the board was debating whether Elise should give way to you? It would have saved a great deal of time and probably some negative consequences. It’s clear that Melanie, Adele, Charles and Elise all feel that you’re encroaching on Elise’s territory.”

“Because of that very reason. If I’d proposed co-chair right away, then Elise would have been sharing her title and power with me. But when I was voted Vice Chair first, and then proposed to share it, that meant I was sharing my title and power with her. Completely different dynamic.”

“And very strategic,” said Alison, her eyebrows lifted as she looked at Lynne in some surprise. “I’m impressed. Didn’t you just say you don’t know much about business?”

“I don’t. That’s not business, that’s human nature.”

“Half of business is human nature. And another quarter is plain common sense. I’d say you’re doing fine in both departments.”

“Well, you certainly lit a plasma fire under the officers,” said Revi. “Did you see Charles’ face when he realized he’d just lost his income? I thought I might have to break out the cortical stimulator.”

“He did look pretty sick, didn’t he?” Alison swirled the ice in her drink. “But Adele just looked pissed off.”

“I think Adele looks like that most of the time anyway,” said Lynne, and Alison laughed.

“I can’t comment. Unlike you, I’m an employee here.”

“Well then, let me say it for you. Adele is just a class-A bitch, and I was happy for the chance to take her down a notch.”

“Oh, so that’s the ‘fun’ part you were referring to.” Kathryn nudged Lynne with her hip.

“Well…yeah. I mean, come on! She was nasty to Alison and she was nasty to me. She doesn’t even know me. She just has that ‘I’m better than you’ attitude that sends me right off the deep end. I never did tolerate that very well.”

Revi snorted, and Seven turned to look at her. “I still don’t understand that aspect of humor,” she said.

“What aspect?” asked Kathryn.

“I believe you call it ‘stating the obvious.’ I don’t see how verbally confirming a fact already universally known can incite amusement.”

“You mean that Lynne’s intolerance of people like Adele is a universally known fact?” asked Alison.

“Yes,” said Kathryn firmly, hearing both Seven and Revi echoing her at the same time.

Alison laughed. “Okay, apparently so!”

“Like I’m the only one in the room with that character trait,” said Lynne. “That’s part of the humor, Seven. It’s not just that I stated the obvious. It’s that everyone here is exactly the same way.”

“That’s not true,” protested Kathryn. “I think I tolerate that attitude better than most. I have to, it’s part of my job.” She was a little taken aback when Lynne, Seven and Revi all gave her knowing smiles. “What? You don’t agree?”

“Um, love, you just spent the last seven years of your life as queen of all you surveyed,” said Lynne, putting an arm around her waist. “You didn’t have anyone who thought they were better than you.”

“Oh, no. I completely disagree. And I can point to an example right here in this room.” Kathryn looked over at Seven, who actually appeared a little embarrassed.

“Seven is not even remotely in the same category as Adele,” said Revi loyally. “If she thought she was better at anything, it’s because she actually was.”

“Sometimes.” Kathryn was willing to admit that much. “But even leaving Seven out of it, I put up with a lot of bloated egos outside of our crew. I lost track of how many egotistical morons we had to deal with.”

“That’s true,” conceded Lynne. “But by the time you were finished dealing with them, their egos were usually badly punctured. Which sort of illustrates my point.”

“Perhaps we should allow Kathryn to puncture Elise’s ego,” said Seven. “It seems to be in need of adjustment.” Kathryn raised a glass to her, silently acknowledging the way she’d shifted the topic. For Seven, it was a rather smooth maneuver.

“She was a bit nasty,” said Alison, effortlessly taking the new lead. “Actually I was surprised; she’s usually very poised.”

“It’s not every day that someone gets their income cut off,” said Revi. “Stress changes people’s behavior.”

“Didn’t seem to change Brian’s.” Alison shook her head. “He really is a professional. If it turns out to be him, I’m never going to trust my judgment in people again.”

“That would surprise me, too,” Lynne agreed. “And I don’t think it’s Elise either.”

“Why not?” asked Kathryn.

“Because she was all over Alison like a ton of bricks. That kind of redirection would be too obvious if she were actually responsible.”

“Or she may be expecting others to think exactly that,” Revi pointed out. “My money is on Adele. She knew about Lynne because Charles told her. So she knew her lifestyle was at risk. And she looks just nasty enough to take action to prevent that.”

“What about Melanie?” asked Kathryn. “She knew, too, through Elise.”

“Yes, but she doesn’t have any motive,” said Alison. “Adele is connected directly through Charles; his loss is her loss. But Melanie’s wealth comes from the general Hamilton fortune, so it doesn’t depend on who the fund managers are.”

“Well, Tuvok is looking into everyone’s finances,” said Kathryn. “If there’s any clue there, he’ll find it.”

“I fail to understand the point of this discussion,” said Seven. “We have no more actual evidence now than we did prior to the meeting. You’re all theorizing without basis.”

“Maybe we’re theorizing just for the fun of it,” said Lynne, and Kathryn smothered a laugh at the look on Seven’s face.

“Seven’s right,” she said. “We don’t know any more now than we did before, other than a few behavioral observations. Hopefully Tuvok is being more productive than we are.”

“He could hardly be otherwise,” Seven muttered.

 

 

-----

 

 

“So how was your day?” Aunt Alynna settled back on her couch and looked at the viewscreen expectantly.

“Interesting,” said Alison. She tipped the bottle, carefully filling her glass. She’d just gotten home, and her aunt was clearly ahead of her in the relaxation department. Which was a sad statement, considering that San Francisco was an hour behind Denver. “What are you doing home so early?”

“Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.” The admiral took a sip of her vodka and sighed appreciatively. “Janeway will be back for the debriefings, and we’ve got a lot of ground to cover. Plus we have to prep her for the publicity tour and wrap up all the arrangements. So I thought I’d give myself an early night before all hell breaks loose.”

“You realize she’s dreading the parades.”

Aunt Alynna’s grin didn’t look in the least bit sympathetic. “Tough for her. She’s the best thing to happen to our publicity branch since the Treaty of Bajor was signed. She’ll just have to live with it.”

“Poor Kathryn.” Alison sipped her own vodka. “It’s a good thing we don’t have these little chats every day. I’d be asking for a raise to cover my vodka bill.”

“Well, you could drink something less than the best.”

“No, I couldn’t. Not at home. I had replicated vodka at the office today and it instantly reminded me of why I treat myself to the good stuff at home. Yick. I find it amazing that we can take a human being apart at the molecular level, reassemble her with one hundred percent accuracy, and still not get vodka right.”

“And a good thing for Russia that we can’t. Now, let’s get back to you. Tell me about the meeting.”

“It was short and sweet. Lynne got everything she wanted except possibly the goodwill of a few of the Hamiltons.”

“Didn’t make friends, eh?”

“Not exactly. She’s not very tactful.” Alison smiled at the memory. “She told Adele Hamilton to shut up, and characterized one of her statements as a ‘shitty little comment.’”

That got a laugh out of her aunt. “Perfect,” she said. “I knew she’d fit right in. So, was it?”

“A shitty little comment? Oh, yes. Adele’s used to the perks that the Hamilton name gives her. She doesn’t think she has to play by the same rules everyone else does. But today she ran into someone else who doesn’t play by the rules. Whose name is Hamilton, and who is not on her side. It shocked the hell out of her.”

“And how did the managers react to being fired?”

“Well, they were all a bit stunned. Brian recovered first. Charles looked like he needed to find the nearest restroom. And Elise—actually, I think Elise was more upset about losing her title and her fast-track to the Chair position than she was about losing her income.” Alison remembered the glare Elise had given her and amended, “Which is not to say she wasn’t pissed about that. If looks could kill, I wouldn’t be talking to you right now.”

“You knew that would happen.”

“I expected it, yes. I still didn’t like it.”

Aunt Alynna nodded thoughtfully. “You’re used to the power of the back rooms. This is your first time being right up front and center. Makes you a much bigger target, doesn’t it?”

“I felt like I had a bullseye painted on my forehead.” Alison sighed. “I would really have preferred not to get involved this way. I’ve put in hours and hours trying to get a handle on Lynne’s holdings, but it’s like learning the complete budget of an interplanetary corporation. It’s going to take awhile before I can see how all the pieces fit together and where everything is.”

“Is that what she expects?” asked the admiral shrewdly.

“No,” Alison admitted. “She said she didn’t even care if she lost money, since to her mind she never had it in the first place. But I care. I’m not going to take this on and fail.”

“Which is probably why she asked you to take it on.”

“I don’t think so. She asked me because she trusts me. Which still makes my head spin a little bit, considering that four days ago she was here in this house, threatening me with God knows what because she thought I’d betrayed her.”

“I’m still not happy about that,” said Aunt Alynna. “Next time I see her I’m going to make sure she knows it.”

“Well, she had reason—”

“I don’t care. You didn’t deserve it.”

Alison hid a smile behind her glass as she sipped. Long ago, she’d been bullied while playing in a park near her aunt’s house, and within minutes of arriving back at the house in tears she’d watched as her aunt had marched outside, still in full uniform, and proceeded to put the fear of God and Admiral Necheyev into those boys. The sense of utter protection she’d felt then was very similar to what she was feeling now, despite the fact that she was several decades older and a lot more capable of taking care of herself. Everyone, she decided, should have someone ready to ride to her rescue.

“No, but she apologized pretty nicely and then offered me the biggest raise in the history of mankind, so I’m not too upset anymore,” she said.

“Well, at least she knows how to apologize. I imagine she’s had a great deal of practice, with that attitude.”

Now it was Alison’s turn to laugh. “That attitude? You mean the same type you have? And how often do you apologize for it, Aunt Alynna?”

“Never mind that.” The admiral frowned, but Alison knew it was for show. “At any rate, she has redeemed herself somewhat. And I’m very glad this little puppet show is finally over. She’s official now, right?”

“Right,” said Alison, dreading the next question.

“So the Foundation mission has been reversed?”

“Ah…not exactly.”

“What? Why the hell not?”

“Lynne wants to explore the possibilities before making a decision.”

“My rosy ass she does!” The admiral thumped her glass onto the table and leaned forward. “The first thing she ever said to you was that she wanted to reverse that mission, and now all of a sudden she wants to ‘explore possibilities’? I’m not buying this for a second. What’s really going on?”

Alison put her own glass down. “We’ve just hit a little bump. Lynne is truly my employer now, which means I can’t speculate with you on her motives and decisions. If you want an answer to your question, you’ll have to ask her, not me.”

“Lord grant me patience, we’re back at this again. The problem is, I already know too much about this situation for you to back out now and expect me not to dig after you.”

“Do what you want. But you’ll be talking to yourself.”

“Thank you, I will.” The admiral relaxed back into her seat. “Explore possibilities, eh? We know that’s not the case, because she’s far too aware of the cost to Starfleet and the Federation if she continues to divert those funds. And she’s got a wife who is deeply invested in the Starfleet command structure; I’m sure she’s not going to want to jeopardize Janeway’s forward motion. So that’s a cover for something else. The question then becomes, what is she covering?”

Alison sipped her drink, listening in some admiration as her aunt picked the threads apart.

“Or maybe the question becomes, why is she delaying? She needs time before she commits. Because she needs the promise of that decision, doesn’t she? Besides her fortune, that promise is the biggest source of power in her hands. It’s leverage. So what is she leveraging?” She stared at a point above the viewscreen, deep in thought.

Alison was fascinated by the change in her body posture when she made the connection. Her head and shoulders shifted back, straightening her spine, and when their eyes met there was definitely a spark.

“Your boss is about to venture into political blackmail, isn’t she?”

“I told you, Aunt Alynna. This isn’t something I can discuss.”

“Oh, for the love of God. I know what you’re not saying.” Aunt Alynna dragged her fingers through her blonde hair, rumpling it up considerably. “Well, I just hope she’s learned a lot about negotiation from her wife, or she’s about to be eaten alive. She’s playing with the big dogs now.”

Alison picked up her glass and took a sip. She wished she could counter her aunt’s statement, but chances were pretty good that Lynne was about to be eaten alive. And she herself had a ringside seat to it; she’d made the appointment today.

The admiral suddenly smiled at her. “I wish I could be there. I have to hand it to her, that woman has ovaries of solid duranium.”

Alison couldn’t help her laugh. “Now on that topic, I can openly agree with you.”

 

 

 

 

---

chapter 30

 

 

The street looked like any other in Houston, a city that Tuvok found himself appreciating for its logical grid layout and its Vulcan-like weather. His companions didn’t seem to appreciate the heat quite as much as he did, judging by the sweat on their faces, but they were not about to complain. They were Starfleet security, trained to adapt to any environment.

“I am curious as to the July temperatures, given this level of warmth in February,” he mused as they strode down the sidewalk. “It might be a refreshing place to visit.”

“Refreshing?” Lieutenant Terrill, current Chief of Security for Voyager, looked over with a raised eyebrow. “With all due respect, Commander, ‘refreshing’ is a dip in a cold mountain lake. Houston in July is more like ‘debilitating’.”

“Not if you’re a Vulcan,” said Ensign Mulcahy. His Irish pale skin was currently closer in color to his hair, but he retained the cheery attitude that had not left him for a minute since being assigned to Tuvok’s team. “I hear Vulcans don’t think it’s warm enough until they can fry an egg on a rock.”

“A colorful but inaccurate metaphor, Ensign. It would be more accurate to say that we don’t consider it warm enough until we can fry an egg on a rock in the shade.”

Mulcahy grinned, but Terrill clearly wasn’t sure if his humor had been intentional or not. Tuvok stared straight ahead, allowing her to draw her own conclusion—which, by the easily readable expression on her face, was to the negative. “Then you’d probably love this place in July,” she said. “I don’t know how it compares to Vulcan, but I can tell you that it’s a lot like Cardassia.”

“You’ve been to Cardassia?” He was intrigued; she certainly hadn’t been posted there by Starfleet. And Cardassia was not known as a popular vacation planet.

“Yes, sir. I was part of the Bajoran Resistance. My entire team got wiped up. Most of them went to the camps, but some of us were sent to Cardassia as house servants.”

“No shit?” said Mulcahy. His face immediately turned even more red. “Sorry, sir. That just slipped out.”

“I presumed as much. I also presume that your vocabulary includes alternative means of expressing surprise.”

“Yes, sir.” Mulcahy faced forward again, and Tuvok turned his attention to Terrill.

“If I may ask, how long were you in service on Cardassia?”

“Six years. I was captured right before the Cardassians withdrew from Bajor. But they somehow forgot to return all of their captives.”

Though her tone was matter-of-fact, Tuvok understood a great deal that was not being said. “Your survival is impressive, Lieutenant. Bajoran servants had a very short life expectancy on Cardassia.”

“Yes, I know.” She offered nothing else.

“How did you escape?”

“The Battle of Cardassia. It was the best distraction anyone could have wished for.” She looked up, and he nodded at her to continue. “A number of us managed to make our way to the Federation forces who were fighting with the Cardassian Resistance. I went expecting to find Humans in charge. You could have knocked me over with a feather when I found one of my own people directing those Cardies.”

“Commander Kira Nerys.” He had read about the Dominion War as soon as the data files had reached Voyager. The Battle of Cardassia had been the turning point that ended the war, though not without enormous casualties. Eight hundred million Cardassian civilians had died in mere days. By contrast, the forty-one-year Cardassian occupation of Bajor had resulted in the deaths of ten million Bajorans. Even the most revenge-minded Bajorans had given up their blood thirst after seeing the decimation of Cardassia.

“Yes. She’s the one who encouraged me to apply for Starfleet. She said the discipline required might help me channel my anger.”

“Clearly it has. You seem to be very centered.”

“Thank you, sir. It’s just taken a while to learn where the right targets are.”

He made a mental note to share this information with Captain Janeway, who had been less than impressed with the Lieutenant’s performance to date. There was more to Terrill than was contained in her Starfleet record. With more specialized training, she could be a very good security officer indeed. Anyone who could survive six years in captivity on Cardassia had great strength of body and will.

“There it is, sir,” offered Mulcahy, who appeared eager to make up for his prior lapse.

Tuvok followed his line of sight to the small shop tucked between two larger storefronts. The sign read “MODERN ANTIQUES,” an oxymoron that perfectly described the wares in its window displays.

An antique bell tinkled over the door as they entered, drawing the attention of the small, overweight man behind the counter.

“Hello, hello!” he said, smiling. “What can I do for you?”

“We’re interested in your work with microelectronics,” said Tuvok. The man nodded cheerfully.

“Certainly! I can put a personal communicator in anything, though as you can see, the antique watches are my best-selling product. A lot of professionals out there love the statement that a twenty-second century watch makes on their wrist, but they love the fact that they can actually use it as a comm unit even more. It looks sharp and it’s one less thing they have to carry around.”

“Actually we’re more interested in the products you don’t sell openly, Mr. Amberg. Such as microtransmitters for monitoring private conversations.”

Amberg’s smile fell. “I don’t mess with that kind of stuff. You want that, you need to find someone else to sell it to you.”

“I think not.” Tuvok pulled a small vial out of his pocket and held it up. “This is your work, I believe.”

There was a moment of silence before Amberg shook his head. “Never seen anything like it. You’ve got the wrong guy. Wish I could help you, but I don’t know anyone who works with those.”

“Mr. Amberg,” said Tuvok patiently, “we traced the components of this transmitter. It uses an unusually dense form of isolithium, which we tracked to a supply company on Mars. That company has records showing a shipment of isolithium to your store.”

“Doesn’t prove anything. Yes, I buy isolithium from Red World Alloys. So does anyone else working in quality microelectronics. They make the best alloys.”

Tuvok set the vial on the counter and pulled out his tricorder. “Red World Alloys uses an identifying molecular marker in its shipments, as required by the regulatory agency for intersystem alloy trade. We scanned your shop from orbit. The molecular signature from your remaining supplies of isolithium match the signature of the alloy in this transmitter. In addition,” he said as the readout popped up on his screen, “you have an active transmitter in this shop right now, operating on the same frequency as the one we found illegally placed in the office of a private citizen. I can understand why you’d want to record the conversations of your customers, given the type of people you deal with.”

Amberg looked around, no doubt weighing his chances for escape, but Mulcahy was blocking the front door and Terrill was poised at the edge of the counter, ready to vault it.

“Look,” he said, raising his hands, “I don’t want any trouble. I don’t know who you guys are, but—”

“Commander Tuvok, Starfleet Security.” He opened his vest to expose his commbadge. “That’s Ensign Mulcahy by the door, and Lieutenant Terrill there. And I am pleased to hear that you don’t want trouble. Your sensible attitude will make this very simple.”

Amberg’s eyes widened. “You’re Starfleet? What the hell does Starfleet want with me? Listen, okay, I sell transmitters, but not to non-Federation species and not to criminals.”

Tuvok lifted an eyebrow. “And how do you know that your clients are not criminals?”

“They’re just transmitters, all right? It’s not like I’m selling weaponry! Transmitters aren’t used for serious criminal activity. They’re just for listening, for gathering information. Small stuff. Nothing big.”

“That must be a comforting fabrication for you. In fact—” he indicated the vial— “this particular transmitter was used to enable a murder attempt. Would you call that ‘serious criminal activity’?”

Amberg’s mouth opened and shut again as he shook his head. “I’m not responsible for how they’re used. I just sell them. You can’t get me on an accessory charge and you know it.”

“You are correct. But I can file charges against you for conspiracy. Also for knowingly selling devices used for privacy violations of Federation citizens. I’m certain that a little more thought would result in additional charges.”

“You might check his accounts,” said Terrill. “Since the transmitter sales are clearly done in the back room, I’d guess he’s not paying his Federation percentage on those sales.”

“An excellent idea.”

Amberg looked back and forth between them, his eyes narrowing. “You don’t want to file charges. Otherwise you’d be doing it instead of talking about it. You want information.”

“Very astute, Mr. Amberg.” Perhaps this investigation was going to be easier than he’d thought.

“I can’t give out information on my clients. If I did that, I’d be out of business.”

Then again, perhaps not. Tuvok sighed. “Apparently you have not realized that you are already out of business. Your dealings in spy equipment are illegal, and they have ended as of this moment. However, Starfleet has an interest in your product. This transmitter is of a quality we haven’t matched. So we’re offering you a deal. Tell us what we want to know, and you can continue making transmitters—for Starfleet. This has the added advantage of keeping you out of the New Zealand prison colony. Or, you can go to the colony. These are your only two options.”

It didn’t take Amberg long to make his decision.

 

 

-----

 

 

Kathryn stood in the central square of Starfleet Headquarters, looking up at the building she was about to enter. Somewhere in there, a panel of four admirals was waiting to continue the debriefing that had first begun with MIDAS array-enabled messages ten months ago. She remembered how carefully she’d phrased some of her responses then, grateful that she’d had one day between each transfer of messages to fine-tune her answers. It had gone on for weeks, and she’d thought then that she was putting it behind her.

She’d been an idiot. Of course Starfleet was never going to let her get away with being able to control her own debriefing. That had been made abundantly clear the moment Necheyev had stepped aboard Voyager. And now, after two weeks of what she couldn’t exactly call vacation, she was going back in to have every difficult decision of the last seven years questioned.

“I guess I’m really home,” she said, and started up the stairs.

The lobby hadn’t changed much since the last time she’d been here, but the age of the officers certainly had. These kids didn’t look old enough to pilot a transport, let alone a starship. She felt like she’d stumbled into an Academy building by mistake. Maybe it was Cadet Day and they were from the Academy.

“Captain Janeway!”

She turned and found what appeared to be a twenty-year-old saluting her crisply. A twenty-year-old in full lieutenant’s pips. There went the Cadet Day theory.

“Welcome home, Captain! May I just say that it’s an honor.”

She acknowledged his salute and smiled. “Thank you, Lieutenant. It’s good to be back.”

His grin made him look even younger, and she cringed inside. God, she thought crankily, I’m a damned veteran.

She must have been saluted by fifteen more young officers before finally coming across someone who actually looked old enough to be wearing lieutenant commander’s pips. By the time she was escorted into the debriefing room, it was almost a relief to see the four admirals waiting for her. Paris gave her a welcoming smile, while beside him, Necheyev looked as stern as ever.

“Welcome back, Captain Janeway,” said Necheyev. “You remember Admiral Hayes and Admiral Finnegan.”

“Yes, of course. It’s good to see you both.” She shook hands with Hayes first, then smiled at Finnegan. “We were in a room just like this many years ago.”

He laughed. “I remember it well. Your very first review board after your very first command. You were most displeased to learn that any part of your performance could be improved on.”

“As I recall, I was mostly displeased with that arrogant Vulcan who seemed to take a very un-Vulcanlike pleasure in noting my every lack,” she said. “And even more displeased when I learned that he’d been assigned as tactical officer on my next command.”

“So after all these years, Captain, are you ready to tell me I was right?” Finnegan gave her a broad grin.

“I can’t even imagine what the last seven years would have been like without Commander Tuvok,” she said. “And frankly I don’t think we’d have survived without him. So yes, Admiral, I’m prepared to say it. You were right.”

He clapped her on the back as they moved toward their chairs. “Well, I’m glad you don’t hold it against me.”

“I trust you’ve had some time to relax since getting back.” Admiral Hayes was a little more rotund than when she’d last seen him, and she wasn’t sure what to think of the beard.

“Some time, yes,” she said.

Necheyev smiled thinly. “A very careful answer, Captain. Perhaps you’ll find it easier to speak openly if I tell you that everyone at this table is aware of the situation with your wife. Now that her identity is confirmed, I thought it best to bring things into the open.”

“Simply shocking.” Finnegan shook his head. “Attempted assassination for economic gain—truly, the Dominion War has cost us in more ways than we can count. The catastrophic losses on all sides seems to have cheapened the value of life and social order. We’ve had more violent crime on Earth in the past five years than in the two decades before.”

“And the same thing is happening all over the Federation,” added Hayes. “A few species—the Vulcans, the Betazoids, the Risans—seem to be going along just as before. But many others are reporting the same upswing we’ve experienced.”

“It’s not surprising,” said Paris. “The same thing has happened after every large conflict in our recent history. It will swing back to normal eventually.”

“Yes, with the passing of a generation,” said Finnegan.

Kathryn listened with interest. “Do you know, I hadn’t thought of that—I mean, that the war might have changed our social fabric. It has been rather surprising, I must admit. I told Lynne that crime of any kind was nearly unheard of on Earth in our time, and yet sometimes it feels like we never left the Delta Quadrant.” Kathryn still felt guilty about that. She’d told the truth, but circumstances had made it a lie.

“Compared to what Earth societies were like in her time, even these elevated levels are miniscule,” said Necheyev. “But I don’t imagine it feels that way when it’s directed at her.”

When it’s directed at us, you mean. Kathryn met her gaze and nodded. “No, it doesn’t. And it’s especially demoralizing after all we’ve gone through to get to this point. We’re home, but we still can’t let our guard down.”

“I’m sorry to tell you this, Captain, but none of us can let our guard down. We may have won the Dominion War, but the Federation still faces threats on all sides, the greatest of which is almost certainly the Borg. Which is why this debriefing is so important. Your discoveries and knowledge can be immensely helpful as we face our future.” Necheyev activated the holographic recorder and picked up right where she’d left off, the day Voyager had landed on Earth. “Let the record show that this debriefing is being attended by Admirals Necheyev, Paris, Hayes, and Finnegan, and Captain Janeway. The date is February fourth, twenty-three seventy-eight, stardate five five zero one three point six. Captain Janeway, will you please recount for us your experiences with Borg transwarp technology, beginning with your theft of a transwarp coil from a Borg ship?”

 

 

-----

 

 

Gretchen answered the call on her FedComm unit and found her daughter looking back at her. “Kathryn! Are you done?”

“Not by a long shot.” Kathryn sighed. “Necheyev finally acknowledged the inconvenient human requirement for food. Five hours of debriefings, and I’ve got half an hour to eat before we go back and start it again. Apparently everyone is having so much fun that they’ve decided to put off my public relations coaching until tomorrow. But I wanted to see how Lynne’s doing. Is she around?”

It was kind of cute the way she was so protective of Lynne. Not that Gretchen would ever say so. “Believe it or not, she’s out cleaning the barn. I’ll transfer your call.”

“Cleaning the—you put her to work? Mom, you said you’d hire Daniel MacGruder’s boys!”

“Calm down, it wasn’t my idea. She got bored. She said she needed to move.”

“Oh. Sorry.” A small smile transformed Kathryn’s tired face. “That does sound like her.”

“And Seven and Revi are out there with her. They seem to be as reluctant to leave her alone as you are.”

“Thank god for that. Knowing they’re there makes it easier to be here. Yes, would you transfer me?”

“No problem.” Gretchen reached for the button.

“Hey, Mom?”

She paused. “Yes?”

“Thanks for looking after her.”

Gretchen nodded. “Anytime. You know that.”

“I do.” Kathryn waited, and Gretchen hit the transfer button. She stood in the kitchen for a moment, looking out the window toward the barn. There had been something in Kathryn’s eyes when she’d said thank you, and it took a while to put a definition to it.

Solidarity. It was an acknowledgment that they were on the same team, working toward the same goal. A thank you not just for being there, but for being on her side.

Well, Edward, she thought, our Goldenbird is finally figuring it out. And all it took was seven years’ exile and marrying someone who got under her skin.

Humming, she picked up the book she’d been reading and headed for the living room. I wonder if Lynne knows about her childhood name? She’d never heard Lynne use it or mention it, and given how much that woman loved to tease, that had to mean she didn’t know.

A smile spread across her face as she sat in her favorite chair and opened her book.

I wonder how much Kathryn will give me not to tell her?

 

 

-----

 

 

“Okay, that’s it. We have to go.” Revi dusted off her hand, frowned at it, and tried rubbing it on her pants. That didn’t help either.

“Give it up,” said Lynne. “Besides, you’re going to shower anyway. Right? Tell me you’re showering before subjecting that poor woman to your stinky selves.”

“Hey, the reason we’re stinky is because we’re out here helping you. A little gratitude would be appropriate.”

“Did I ask for that help? Seems to me like you two invited yourselves.”

Seven shoved the crate she’d just finished packing onto the top of the neat stack in the corner and dusted off her own hands. “Have you noticed that since Lynne became a Vice-Chair, things such as gratitude are now unworthy of her?”

“Come to think of it, I did notice that,” said Revi. “She leaves that sort of thing to the unwashed masses.”

Lynne grinned at them. “You said it, I didn’t. And you could fix that part about being unwashed. I’m afraid you’re stuck with the other part, though.”

“Come on, Seven. Let’s leave Her Greatness to the dust and the mice.”

Seven walked over to stand next to Lynne. “You’ll be all right?”

All levity vanished from Lynne’s expression. “I’ll be fine. Actually this is great therapy.” She looked around the old barn appreciatively. “It may not be made of wood, but it still feels like a barn. It’s…comfortable.”

Revi sneezed. “Great,” she said, rubbing her nose. “Dust makes you comfortable. Then you’re exactly where you should be. But we have to go to our own therapy.”

“Good luck,” said Lynne. “Don’t give the counselor too much trouble.”

“We won’t,” said Seven.

Revi caught her hand and smiled at her. “Yeah, this is just our first appointment.”

Lynne snorted. “See you on Voyager tonight, then.”

 

 

-----

 

 

Kathryn stifled a sigh of relief when the aide came in to speak to Necheyev, forcing a break in the debriefing. Even the other admirals were looking tired. Paris gave her a wan smile as they waited, politely ignoring the whispered conversation at the other end of the table.

The aide straightened and left the room while Necheyev deactivated the holographic recorder. “We’ll pick this up again tomorrow,” she said. “Captain Janeway, there’s been some progress in Commander Tuvok’s investigation. He’s waiting outside to fill us in.”

Kathryn’s ears perked up. Now this was more like it. The other admirals pushed their chairs back, standing up with a few stifled groans. Kathryn stood as well, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries as they took their leave, and waiting with a smile as Tuvok entered. “Fancy meeting you here,” she said. “How was Houston?”

“A most agreeable city,” he said, nodding his greetings to them. “With very cooperative inhabitants.”

“So Mr. Amberg saw the light,” said Necheyev.

“It would be more accurate to say that he saw the benefits of cooperation. Not only that, but in the interests of self-preservation, he has been recording his customers for some time. We now have not only a voice print but also an image of the man who purchased that microtransmitter. The staff at Data Records are already running them through the system, and seem confident that we’ll have a match within the hour. Then it’s simply a matter of finding him. We’ve already shown the image to the transporter operator in Bloomington, who confirmed him as the man who had been asking about Captain Janeway.”

“Have those records been run through the Starfleet database yet?” Necheyev asked.

He nodded. “That was the first thing we did. He is not a member of Starfleet.”

Kathryn met Necheyev’s eye and saw her own relief mirrored there. “Thank god,” she said quietly, and Necheyev nodded.

“My sentiments exactly. That closes the door on a whole host of unpleasant possibilities. Then it must have been this man who accessed the Starfleet relay and downloaded the destination data for your beam-in to Voyager.”

“And if he has those kinds of engineering skills, then it wouldn’t have been hard for him to tap into the ski resort system to access our records there,” said Kathryn.

“Agreed,” said Tuvok. “This end of the investigation is coming together. But I now believe it’s the wrong end. The Cardassians almost certainly hired this Human assistant, but that still doesn’t tell us who hired them. For that, I’m convinced that the most viable thread of inquiry is inside the Hamilton Foundation.”

“I’m sure Alison will give you any assistance she can,” said Necheyev. “She’s been keeping her eyes open for quite some time now.”

“I’ve already spoken with her, and will be returning there tomorrow.”

“Excellent work, Tuvok,” said Kathryn. “Having you on the case is making me feel a lot more confident that we’ll get this mess wrapped up quickly.” With a start, she realized that she had probably just insulted Necheyev’s staff, and turned to see the admiral looking at her with a raised eyebrow. “Ah…I just meant that Commander Tuvok is an exemplary investigator,” she added lamely.

Necheyev stared for a moment longer before allowing a small smile on her face. “Not to worry, Captain. I’m in complete agreement with you regarding the Commander’s skills. However, I do think you might wish to acquaint yourself with the caliber of officers here at Headquarters, especially as you’ll likely be working with them in the future.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Kathryn accepted the rebuke with an internal twinge. Certainly she’d deserved it, but…damn, that stung. And in front of Tuvok, too.

“Is there anything else of note, Commander?” asked Necheyev.

Tuvok shook his head. “No, Admiral. I’ve recorded all the details in my report.” He pulled out two PADDs, handing one to Kathryn and the other to Necheyev. “I will update this daily.”

“Very good,” said Necheyev, accepting her PADD. “You’re dismissed.” As the door closed behind him, she looked back at Kathryn. “Dual reports for us. Nice touch.”

“Commander Tuvok is one of the most thorough officers I’ve ever known,” said Kathryn, who felt that was a safer response than, Yes, because I’m still his Captain even if you’re the nominal head of the investigation.

But Necheyev seemed to hear her unspoken words. “Your staff have an extremely high level of loyalty to you. Do you think that might affect their ability to reintegrate into the Starfleet structure?”

Kathryn straightened her spine and looked Necheyev in the eye. “They’re not just my staff, Admiral. They’re Starfleet.”

Necheyev nodded. “I’m glad to hear it. And don’t look so offended; that loyalty is a testament to your leadership.” She picked up her PADD from the table and tapped it. “Now that we’re done with today’s debriefing, I have a few other items that have been needing your attention. Quite a bit has been happening during your leave.”

Tell me about it, thought Kathryn darkly. But of course the admiral wasn’t referring to Lynne’s brushes with death.

“We have a…situation with the Doctor,” said Necheyev, still looking at her PADD.

That got Kathryn’s full attention. “There hasn’t been an issue with the ruling, has there?” Surely she’d have been notified if that were the case. One of the many last-minute items on her to-do list at Terellia had been making sure that the Doctor would be treated as an individual upon their return to Federation space. She’d been assured that the legal precedent set thirteen years earlier by Lieutenant Data’s case would apply to the Doctor as well—namely, that since he could not be categorically defined as non-sentient, he also could not be considered Starfleet property. The fight for an actual declaration of sentience would be a much larger issue, as she’d explained to him, but one that she was willing to back him on. In the meantime, he’d planned to stay with Lieutenant Barclay until the more immediate issues of where he might go and which career he might follow had been settled.

“No, the ruling stands,” Necheyev said. “He has no concerns that Starfleet will consider him its property. However, an issue has arisen regarding his mobile emitter, which is Starfleet property. Starfleet has requested its return, and he has refused. I’m sure you can see the potential for trouble here.”

Indeed she could, and she’d prepared for this long ago.

“Admiral, with all due respect, I think someone in the legal branch has overstepped their bounds. I listed that emitter on a Form G979 a year ago. The approved form was returned via MIDAS communication, and has been filed in both Voyager’s records and here at Headquarters.”

The Admiral stared in surprise. “You listed the emitter as a gift from a foreign dignitary? And somebody actually signed off on that?”

“Yes.”

“Who was that stupid?”

“I don’t recall who signed the form.” This was a lie, but she wasn’t about to say that Admiral Hayes was stupid. Though it was true that he probably hadn’t read her list as closely as he should have.

Necheyev shook her head. “Never mind, I’ll get a copy and see for myself. Tell me, Captain, is there anything else I should know about that’s been categorized as a gift? The Borg alcoves, maybe?”

“No, ma’am. Those were categorized as souvenirs.”

Necheyev’s jaw actually went slack. “You are joking.”

“Not in the slightest. I picked them up in the course of Voyager’s travels. They had no impact on the operation of the ship or its mission, and though they did require ship’s power to function, so did any number of other electronic devices purchased, gifted, or otherwise acquired by the crew over the last seven years.”

“Those alcoves have tactical significance to Starfleet! Are you telling me that you paper-shuffled them right off your ship? And that someone here actually allowed that to happen?”

“The alcove technology has tactical significance, Admiral. Not the alcoves themselves. The blueprints for their design have already been filed in my reports. If Starfleet wishes, it can manufacture all the alcoves it wants. In fact I’m certain that Seven of Nine would lend her expertise to a short term project if it were needed.” Kathryn took a deep breath. This was the opening she’d needed to take the final step and get those alcoves off Voyager. “But I’m glad this topic has come up, because I was going to requisition the use of Starfleet resources to dismantle the alcoves and beam them to my mother’s farm. I’m sure you agree that it would be more efficient for Lynne, Seven and Revi to regenerate there than to do it on Voyager.” They’d done that the night after the second assassination attempt, when Revi had informed her that the three of them had gone as long as they could on the portable regenerator, and desperately needed a full recharge. The regenerator’s output was being severely taxed with all three women using it. With Necheyev’s approval they’d all gone to Voyager, where Kathryn had spent a sleepless night watching over them in the alcove unit, while an entire security team stood guard in the main cargo bay. They were scheduled to do the same thing tonight, since four days was the maximum that Revi was comfortable with. And Kathryn was devoutly hoping that this would be the last time.

Necheyev appeared to be momentarily speechless. When she finally spoke, her voice was solid ice.

“I’m sure that if I check the records, I’ll find this has all been properly filed and approved, won’t I?”

Kathryn braced herself. “Yes ma’am, you will.”

“And how exactly did you list the alcoves so that they flew under the radar?”

“They’re listed as medical technology used to recharge prosthetic devices. Personally owned and operated by three members of the crew with prosthetics.”

The room crackled with tension as Necheyev glared at her. Finally she said, “You have some nerve, Captain. I’ve more than half a mind to discipline you right now for flagrant abuse of Starfleet policy. The regulations exist for a reason, and for a captain to knowingly co-opt them sets a terrible example for everyone else. How are we supposed to enforce respect for regulations if our officers just brush them aside?”

Kathryn said nothing, waiting for the rest of it.

“But I’m also thinking that you’ve left yourself a way out, haven’t you? You said three members.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And there are four alcoves.”

“That’s correct.”

Necheyev shook her head. “You’re a perfect match for your wife.”

“Excuse me?” That threw her; she had no idea what Necheyev was talking about.

“Never mind. The point is that I can respect the difficult situation in which you found yourself, and the fact that you managed to work around it in such a way as to protect everyone’s interests. Three alcoves go home with you, and Starfleet keeps one alcove and the blueprints. As well as a promise that Seven of Nine will be available to consult on building additional units, do I have that right?”

“Yes ma’am, you do.” Kathryn was cautiously hopeful.

“Then you’ve won this round, Captain. And I’ll approve the use of Starfleet resources to remove three of the alcoves, because that will be cheaper in the long term than having an entire security team guarding Ms. Hamilton while her would-be killer is still unidentified. I’d rather that take place on your mother’s farm, where the Hamilton Foundation can absorb the cost of security.” She stepped closer, putting them almost nose-to-nose. “But understand that this sort of gamesmanship is not something I want to see again. You’re not on your own anymore. You’re part of a larger entity, with larger goals, and I expect you to work with Starfleet, not around it. And if you forget that again, I will come down on you so hard that you’ll wish you were still in the Delta Quadrant. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Abundantly.

“Good.” With that, Necheyev appeared to dismiss the whole thing and went back to her PADD. For the next half hour she fired off rapid questions, getting clarification and answers to issues that had come up in the last two weeks—especially in the ongoing fine-toothed combing of Voyager’s systems, which had been giving some of Starfleet’s top technicians more than a few fits.

By the time she was dismissed, Kathryn was more than ready to leave. As the office door closed behind her she took a deep breath, letting some of her tension dissipate on the exhale. She’d known that the alcoves were not going to be an easy sale, but she had a feeling she’d just burned up some of the goodwill between her and Necheyev.

Oh well. It had to be done. A sudden smile creased her face as she realized that tonight would indeed be her last night of standing guard in the cargo bay. Tomorrow Lynne, Seven and Revi could take care of the alcoves. Maybe B’Elanna would be willing to help. She might be stuck in debriefings, but at least they could get something useful done. And then there would be no more dependency on technology that Starfleet could, in all reality, have taken away from them.

As she trotted down the steps and made her way across the courtyard, she felt unexpectedly cheerful. It hadn’t been a bad job for her first day back at work.

 

 

 

 

---

chapter 31

 

 

“Welcome. I’m so glad you’ve come.” Counselor Deanna Troi beamed at them as they entered her office. “Please, have a seat wherever you’d like.”

Seven considered the options—an L-shaped sofa, a pair of soft armchairs, a set of harder chairs around a wooden table—and looked back at the counselor. “I’m familiar with this test. Our choice of chairs will tell you something about our states of mind, correct?”

Troi’s smile grew larger. “Perhaps with some types of counseling, and with some counselors. But I’m an empath—I have no need for little tests to know what you’re feeling. Besides, this isn’t my office. This is just a temporary space I’ve been granted for my work with Voyager’s crew.”

“Don’t try to analyze the analyst, darling,” said Revi. “It’ll just drive you mad.”

“I thought we were already mad, and that’s why we came.”

Troi laughed, a light, breezy sound. She seemed genuinely happy to see them, which puzzled Seven.

“I suppose the Collective wouldn’t have considered the concept of counseling worth the space it took to store the data,” she said. “If all you know of it is what you’ve read, then you might have a few misconceptions. I’m not here to assign some mental pathology to you. I’m here to listen. I hope that you’ll eventually be comfortable enough with me to let me do that.”

“Seven’s just shy,” said Revi, striding over to the couch and plopping onto it. “You wouldn’t know it to look at her, but it’s true.”

“Revi is shifting her own characteristics onto me,” countered Seven as she walked over to join her partner. “She’s the reserved one.”

“Except when I’m not.”

Troi sat gracefully on the other couch section, crossing her legs as she faced them. “You two are quite a team.”

Seven felt her hand grasped and squeezed. “Yes, we are,” she said, smiling at Revi.

Tilting her head, Troi said, “I don’t often counsel couples. There aren’t that many on a starship to begin with, and even when there are, the social dynamics of ship culture mean that guarding privacy is even more important than in a normal society. So it’s usually the stable, committed couples who come to me. And they’ve usually been together for years in order to achieve that stability. I’ve familiarized myself with your files; you can’t have been together for long. Yet I sense a connection between you that seems much older and deeper than the data would indicate.”

Seven was pleased to hear a professional counselor confirm what she had always thought to be true. “I have no prior experience with romantic relationships,” she said, “but there has never been a doubt in my mind that my first will also be my last.”

Revi winced slightly. “I have to admit to more doubt than Seven, which has been a problem for us in the past. But Counselor, we’re not here for couples counseling. We just came together because I didn’t want to come alone.”

“And because Kathryn encouraged me to come,” added Seven.

“Kathryn…do you mean Captain Janeway?”

“Yes,” they said in unison, and she chuckled.

“I’m probably going to have to get used to that,” she said. “Your emotions are intertwined as well. Is that a Borg influence?”

“Not an ‘influence’,” said Revi. “A gift.”

“We have an intact Borg interlink,” Seven clarified.

“Fascinating. And how extremely valuable that must be in your relationship.”

They smiled at each other and then at Troi. “Thanks for being so accepting of it,” said Revi.

Troi lifted a hand. “It’s a part of you. There’s nothing to accept. Though it’s going to be a bit of a challenge for me—at the moment I’m not sure which of you is generating which emotions. But I think I’ll be able to work through that in time, as I get to know you. Now, if I may—you referred to Captain Janeway as Kathryn. It sounds as if you’ve moved past the professional boundary with her.”

“She is our friend,” said Seven proudly.

“She’s the best friend I’ve ever had.” Revi’s voice was matter-of-fact, but Seven felt the emotions packed around the statement. Judging by the look on Troi’s face, she had as well.

“Those are strong words,” she said.

“And not ones I’d say lightly. Kathryn picked me up when I was at rock bottom. She gave me hope when I’d given up on the concept.”

“She could have done that as a caring captain.”

Revi smiled. “She could have. And I think at first she did, just the same as she did with Seven. But somewhere along the line she offered her friendship as well.”

“It’s a true gift, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is. And it’s one I cherish.”

Troi gazed at her for a moment, then looked at Seven. “I apologize for making an assumption about why you’re here. Perhaps you can tell me what you hope to get out of our time together.”

Seven didn’t know how to answer that. “I’m here because Kathryn said that I should come.”

“Is that the only reason? Isn’t there anything you want?”

Weren’t counselors supposed to know these things? “I don’t know,” she said. “I have no experience with professional counseling. What should I want?”

Troi’s smile was kind. “Remember when I said I wasn’t here to assign a mental pathology to you?”

“Of course.”

“Well, I’m not here to tell you what you should want, either. Counseling isn’t like other areas of Starfleet. There’s no expected behavior or performance.”

Seven frowned. “Then how am I supposed to know if I’m doing it right?”

Revi’s amusement swept through her even as her partner laughed out loud. “I’m sorry,” she said, chuckling. “Gods, but you’re cute when you’re overachieving.”

Seven looked back at Troi, waiting for her expression to turn patronizing. To her surprise, the kindness in Troi’s face was unchanged.

“There is no right in this, Seven. There’s only what you want, and how I can help you with that. But I do need a starting place. I can’t help you until I know where to begin.”

“But I didn’t come because I wanted to. I came because Kathryn asked me to, and then Revi said she wanted to come see you and asked me to come with her.”

“We did talk her into it,” said Revi.

“I see,” said Troi. “So you’re here strictly as a support for Revi, and to satisfy a request from Captain Janeway, and not for any reasons of your own.”

“Yes.” But that didn’t quite feel right. She looked at Revi for help.

: Maybe you should tell her why Kathryn asked you to come. :

But before Seven could open her mouth, Troi was saying, “Let me tell you what I learned from your file. I learned that you have been disciplined on several occasions for defying orders from your captain and for acting without authorization, and that the last such occasion was just seven weeks ago when you went to the Terellian Gifting in Captain Janeway’s place. I also learned that when you have acted against authority, it has almost always been because you were strongly convinced that your actions were in the best interests of your crewmates or someone you cared for.” She leaned forward. “You don’t strike me as the kind of person who simply gets talked into things. You think things through and then you take action, usually with the motive of upholding the best interests of others, and rarely with your own benefit in mind. Would that be a fair assessment of your normal decision-making process?”

Seven stared. Troi’s calm and welcoming persona had hidden an intelligence and forthright manner that she hadn’t expected. This was the sort of thing Kathryn would say to her when they were having a ‘philosophical discussion,’ and Seven felt a surge of anticipation at the possibility of another intellect who could challenge her—someone else she could learn from.

“Yes,” she said. “That’s a fair assessment. As a Borg I always acted for the best interests of the Collective. As a Human, I…tend to have the same motivation.” She remembered their discussion while sitting in Kathryn’s favorite willow tree, and smiled slightly. “The only thing that has changed is the nature of my collective.”

“Which became the crew of Voyager.”

“Initially. And to a certain extent that remained true until we landed here. But recently I have redefined my collective as consisting of my friends and family.”

Troi nodded. “Then let me rephrase my original question. Are you here because you personally hope to benefit from our talks, or because you feel your presence here is in the best interests of your current collective?”

After a moment of thought, Seven answered, “Both. I want to do anything I can to ease Kathryn’s concerns about me, and to help Revi.”

“I can see how that would be in their interests. But how does it benefit you?”

“I love them,” she said simply. “I feel better if they do.”

Troi sat back in her chair, examining her with the black eyes that were characteristic of her species. “All right. If you don’t mind, I’d like to break this down into the two halves you’ve given me. Let’s talk about the interests of your loved ones first. What exactly are Captain Janeway’s concerns about you?”

Revi squeezed Seven’s hand. : There you go. :

“You were at the party on the Enterprise,” said Seven, and Troi nodded. “So you must have seen the altercation between Lieutenant Maris and me.”

“From a distance. It did stop everything in the room.”

“Maris threatened Revi and hurt B’Elanna—Lieutenant Torres,” she clarified, seeing Troi’s forehead wrinkle.

“Of course. Thank you.” Troi gestured for her to continue.

Seven took a deep breath. “When she struck B’Elanna, I wanted to kill her.” She waited for Troi’s reaction.

“Okay. Then what?”

Taken aback by the counselor’s completely calm acceptance, Seven stumbled a bit. “I…reached out for her, because I was going to crush her throat, but Lynne came between us. Other than Revi, she’s the only person who could have physically stopped me.”

“You’re speaking of Lynne Hamilton? Captain Janeway’s wife?”

“Yes. She held me back until Kathryn got there and ordered me to stand down. That was when I was able to control my anger. But Kathryn was worried about my violent reaction. She told me that she understood my protective instincts, but that if they got out of control, they could harm both me and Revi.” For herself, she hadn’t been concerned. But for Revi…

She looked at her partner in surprise, then back at Troi. “That’s what I want,” she said. “I want to make certain that I won’t hurt Revi.”

Revi’s own surprise tingled through her. “What? That wasn’t what this was about.”

“Yes, it is. Kathryn said that if I didn’t learn to control those instincts, I could easily do something that I might regret later, and that it wouldn’t just be me paying the price, but you too. I don’t ever want you to pay a price for being with me.”

: Darling…you’re the only one who’s paid so far. :

Seven shook her head, just as Troi said, “That’s an understandable sentiment, and it does you great credit as a partner. But it’s not realistic. All partnerships involve sacrifice of one kind or another, on both sides. There is always a price to be paid. But what I’m hearing is that you want to limit the potential of that cost by learning to control your reaction to a powerful impulse.”

“Yes.” Seven appreciated that the counselor could put an emotional concept into a logical frame. “That’s exactly it.”

Troi nodded. “And that’s a very achievable goal. I think the first thing we need to establish is that the impulse you felt—to protect your loved ones—is completely normal. You can’t control your instincts, Seven. They’re natural and powerful and they exist for very good reasons. What you can control is how you react to them and how you allow them to affect your actions. Emotions can’t be changed. They simply are. But we are all able to choose how we allow our emotions to direct us. For you, I suspect it will be merely a matter of teaching you a few tricks to use. And I have no doubt that you’ll pick them up quickly.”

Seven stared, the realization washing over her with a suddenness that had her clutching Revi’s hand. “How long will you be available to talk to us?”

“My medical exchange is for ninety days. Why?”

“Because I just realized why Kathryn always said she wished she had a counselor on board.” Seven smiled, almost giddy with the knowledge. “You’re what she was talking about. You are the resource I’ve been missing all this time. You can teach me what I need to know about being more Human and less Borg.”

“And is that for the benefit of your collective?”

“No.” For the first time in their interview, Seven felt completely confident that this was the right answer. “It’s for me.”

“In that case,” said Troi with a brilliant smile, “we can get cooking on that right away.”

Revi was looking back and forth between them. “Wow. That was something to feel.”

“It was,” agreed Troi. “And I think I’m starting to get a sense for your emotional individuality. Revi, what are you hoping to gain from our sessions?”

“A little peace of mind.” Seeing Troi’s brow furrow, Revi said, “If you’ve read our files, then you know I was in the Borg Collective for three years. And I’ve read your file, Counselor Troi. I know you were the counselor on board the Enterprise when Captain Picard was assimilated. So you know precisely how much damage assimilation does to a person.”

“Yes,” said Troi quietly. “I do.”

“Then take the damage a few days caused a strong man like Captain Picard, and multiply it by whatever factor you like to imagine what it could do to someone less strong, over a much longer period. That will give you an idea of what a mess I am.”

Troi tilted her head again, assessing Revi with a frank gaze. “I do have some ideas,” she said. “For one thing, I know for a fact that you’re far stronger than you give yourself credit for. Captain Picard himself would be the first to tell you that he’s in awe of your survival and recovery, and how you managed to adapt after such a long period of assimilation. He was extremely impressed by you at the party on the Enterprise, and told me that if you were available he’d snatch you up and count himself fortunate for the opportunity.”

Revi looked away, embarrassed.

“And,” continued Troi, “I have an idea that a large part of the mess you say you are comes from a poorly developed sense of self-worth that dates back to long before your assimilation.”

That brought Revi’s eyes up, and Seven felt her surprise zing through both of them. But her voice was calm as she said, “I might not have been a poster child for emotional perfection before Wolf 359, but neither was anyone else I knew. I was normal. I’m not now. The Borg fucked me up and fucked me over, and that’s what I need to deal with.”

Troi nodded. “Yes, it is. And we will. But the Borg didn’t create your lack of self-esteem. They just made it much worse.”

 

 

-----

 

 

“Hey, welcome back,” said Lynne as Seven and Revi walked into Voyager’s mess hall. She and Kathryn were already relaxing at a table by one of the large viewports. “How’d it go?”

“Okay,” said Revi.

“Very well!” Seven said with a bright smile.

Kathryn looked between them. “Well, that’s not quite the reaction I was expecting.”

“Counselor Troi is extremely knowledgeable in her field,” said Seven, taking a seat across from her. “She says that teaching me about my humanity is not only feasible but probably much less difficult than I thought, because I’ve made so much progress already.”

Kathryn couldn’t help but smile back at her. Seven was practically glowing with pride and excitement, and it was impossible to resist. “Sounds like you and Counselor Troi really hit it off.”

Revi pulled out the chair next to Seven and sat down. “Hit it off? I think Troi wanted to take Seven home with her.”

“Revi is exaggerating, as usual.”

Lynne reached across the table and patted Revi’s hand. “See, I told you that you should have taken a shower first. If you had, maybe Troi would have wanted you, too.”

“Fuck off, Hamilton. See if I ever help you with your dirty work again.” But Revi’s tone didn’t match her words. To Kathryn’s eyes, she seemed more tired than anything else.

“Was it difficult?” she asked quietly.

Revi slumped back in her chair and sighed. “No, it’s just the same old stuff. Except worse.”

“Worse?” Now Lynne was outraged. “She made it worse?”

That got a chuckle. “First you insult me and now you’re all up in arms about what someone else did?”

“You’re my friend. That means I get to mess with you. Sometimes,” Lynne amended. “But not everyone has that right.”

“Calm down, she didn’t mess with me. She just…saw too damn clearly.”

“Isn’t that her job?” asked Kathryn.

“Yeah. I guess I forgot that counselors are as hard to bullshit about mental issues as doctors are to bullshit about physical issues.”

“Wait.” Lynne frowned. “Why were you trying to bullshit her?”

“She wasn’t,” said Seven. “She was bullshitting herself. Counselor Troi merely saw through it.”

Kathryn stared at Seven, then at Revi. “And now you’ve taught her this word?”

“It wasn’t me!” Revi pointed across the table. “Who on this crew loves that word the most, hm?”

Lynne silently pointed at Kathryn, and Revi snorted with laughter.

“I believe I’ve picked up that particular word from all of you.” Seven kept her expression admirably straight. “And my vocabulary is much the richer for it. Appropriate use of profanity is an important aspect of my reassimilation into Human culture.”

“But not a part Counselor Troi will have to help you with,” said Lynne. “I think we’ve got that one covered.”

“That’s for damn sure,” Revi said. “And a good thing, too. I really don’t see Troi as the swearing type.”

“No, I don’t either,” said Kathryn. “But then, I don’t know her personally. There may be a big gap between her professional persona and her private one.”

Revi just looked at her, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “At any rate,” she said, “I went in there hoping for some help with my Borg past and got slapped with a reminder that I have more than that to work on. It was kind of like reporting for a normal duty shift and being told that it had just turned into a triple.”

Kathryn made a mental note to thank Troi the next chance she got. This was exactly what Revi needed, and something she had never been able to touch on her own. “Yes, but when that duty shift is over, I’ll bet you sleep like a rock,” she said.

Revi’s expression shifted. “I hope so. I really do.” She turned to Lynne. “So, no trouble getting here?”

“Would you believe that Kathryn came to get me? As if I couldn’t stand in Gretchen’s living room and get beamed over all by myself.”

“I’m taking no chances.” Kathryn leaned over and gave her a quick kiss. “Besides, you’re a very important person these days. You need an escort.”

Lynne rolled her eyes. “How times have changed, eh? First I was the security escort, and now I need one of my own.”

“Well, I’m not so worried about potential assassins,” said Kathryn, lying through her teeth. “I’m more worried about the throngs of people who now think you’re the story of the century. Necheyev said that the main Starfleet comm channel was flooded with requests about you today; apparently that FedComm report made a huge impression. See, I told you—I’m about to become Lynne Hamilton’s wife.”

“I don’t think you’ve got much to worry about, Captain Let’s Start The Parade.”

Kathryn groaned. “God, don’t remind me.”

“So when is the first parade?” asked Revi.

“The day after tomorrow.” She brightened. “Want to come? I’m sure the organizers would love to have two ex-Borg and the famous Lynne Hamilton along.”

“No,” said all three of them in unison.

Kathryn slumped in her chair. “That’s what I thought.”

 

 

 

 

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