STAR TREK - VOY - 17 - Death Of A Neutron Star

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Star Trek - Voy - 017 - Death Of A Neutron Star

CAPTAIN KATHRYN JANEWAY SAT IN HER COMMAND chair, staring at the image of the

speeding craft on her main screen. Around her the bridge was silent; a waiting silence, a holding-breath

silence, as her bridge crew stood or sat at their stations and watched.

At best the small craft was big enough to hold four humans, but the design was nothing Janeway had ever

seen before. Swept-back, finlike wings made it seem more like a bird in flight, while its long "nose"

curved upward like the front of a water ski. The craft was painted a gold metallic, with black stripes that

gave it the sense of motion. It seemed clearly designed for atmospheric use, but it was a long, long way

from any atmosphere.

Janeway was fascinated by it, especially since it seemed to be in a very great hurry. They had been

tracking it from a distance for the last ten minutes, and unless the craft had very good sensors, she

doubted that they had even seen Voyager yet.

She picked up her half-forgotten cup of coffee and sipped, letting the wonderful flavor fill her mouth.

Even barely warm, it was still delicious. Neelix had found some fascinating beans on an uninhabited

planet six days earlier, and had managed, for the first time, to really brew a good cup of coffee. It was

rich, with an aroma that woke her up and soothed her at the same time. There was only one small

problem. Unless they could do a decent replication of the bean, their supply was only going to last

another week, especially with most of the crew drinking it. It would be a sad day when the last cup was

poured. Until then hot, warm, or even cold-she wasn't going to waste a drop.

"Can't tell exactly where it's heading, Captain," Harry Kim said, finally breaking the silence.

"It seems to have originated," Tuvok said, "from a planet a few light-years away."

"Sure is a great-looking ship," Tom Paris said. "I'd love to get a look inside."

"I doubt you're going to," Kim said.

Janeway glanced around at her operations officer and took another half sip.

Kim shrugged. "From what I can tell with distant scans, they're overloading the engine."

Janeway set the cup down beside her and stared at the beautiful and very alien ship on her main

viewscreen. "Tom, take us in closer. I want more information."

She turned to Kim. "Ensign, hail them. Let them know we have no hostile intentions."

The bridge again fell silent.

"No response to the hail, Captain," Ensign Kim said.

"Keep at it," she said.

On screen the small ship seemed to grow in size. Janeway studied its lines, swept-back and beautiful.

Like Paris, she wanted to see the inside of the thing. But the real question was why was it out here in the

first place? And why was it pushing so hard? It was almost as if it were running from something.

She turned to Tuvok. "Do a long-range scan along the path the ship has taken."

Tuvok nodded and set to work.

"Still no response, Captain," Ensign Kim said.

"Captain," Tuvok said. "A large, unidentified ship is on an intercept path. It will overtake the smaller craft

in three minutes and seven seconds."

Janeway nodded, then turned back to stare at the beautiful small craft that now filled her screen. So she

had her answer as to why the craft was in such a hurry. It was being chased.

"Captain," Ensign Kim said, "the small craft's engines are about to overload."

"How long?"

Kim shook his head. "They'll go critical in thirty seconds, if they aren't shut down."

"Open a hailing frequency," she said, turning back to the screen. "This is Captain Janeway of the

Federation starship Voyager. You are about to self-destruct. Shut down your engines and we will offer

what assistance we can."

"Incoming message from the larger ship," Kim said.

She turned as he glanced up.

"They are demanding that we stand aside."

"They are not our match, Captain," Tuvok said. "In weapons, or in screens."

"Small craft powering down," Kim said.

Janeway nodded. "Mr. Paris, put us directly between the two ships. Ensign Kim, open a three-way

conference between us and the two ships."

She turned back to stare at the beautiful small craft, now floating almost dead in space relative to

Voyager. Her coffee was now completely cold, but she sipped it anyway, waiting, savoring the smooth

taste, and wondering what they had gotten into now.

It took a few minutes before she could see the split screen in front of her. The small craft's pilot had

features that were essentially human, but with broader forehead and larger green eyes. She looked

intense and full of a fighting spirit. Janeway suspected she would like this person, and have trouble with

her at the same time. It almost seemed as if sparks had flown from those green eyes.

From what Janeway could see, the small craft's pilot wore what appeared to be a streamlined, dark-red

tunic that did little to conceal her athletic upper body. Janeway had watched Tom turn around and raise

his eyebrows at Ensign Kim when the alien first appeared. Janeway had ignored the look.

Tuvok had reported that the small craft held only two, and was basically unarmed. Clearly not designed

for deep space.

The larger ship, however, was a different story. It had full weapons and screens, and carried a crew of

sixty-four beings. Its captain was male, with lizard-like features, slits for eyes, and skin that seemed

rough. It was covered with scales. He wore a thin tunic, with weapons banded over his chest. Clearly a

warlike race of some sort, at least at first glance.

Janeway spoke up first. "I am Captain Janeway of the Federation starship Voyager. We are from

another galactic quadrant, here for scientific exploration. We would like to help you resolve your dispute

without recourse to violence."

"Captain Qavim of His Imperial Majesty's frigate Falcon," the reptilian captain said. "We are pursuing the

two rebels who stole a yacht belonging to our royal prince. We demand that you cease your intrusion

immediately! Stand aside, or you will suffer the consequences."

"That's completely untrue!" the small craft's pilot said, her eyes even angrier. This woman's anger was not

to be taken lightly.

"I am Lieutenant Tyla of the Lekk Deep Space Force. Lekks are not a subject race in the Qavok

Empire." She faced Janeway directly. "They kidnapped us; we were trying to escape from their

captivity."

"Nonsense!" Qavim said, a snort of disgust clear as thin flaps where his nose was flared open. "Your

political leaders are voluntary guests in our world, preparing to take an oath of allegiance to the

Emperor."

Lieutenant Tyla looked at the Qavok captain in utter disbelief. "Lies! All lies! You Qavoks abducted our

First Citizen and his cabinet members under deception, and took them to one of your miserable planets.

Forced incarceration and coercion are a lot different from voluntarily taking a pledge of fealty!"

Turning her attention back to Janeway, Tyla went on, "When the abduction took place, Dr. Maalot and I

happened to be at the Congress Hall and were captured by sheer bad luck."

Janeway glanced over Tyla's shoulder to where the other passenger of the small craft stood, looking

timid. Clearly he was the Dr. Maalot she had mentioned.

"We commandeered this yacht and made a getaway. We are now trying to get home fast and warn our

people about the Qavok plan. If we give them enough time, they might be able to stop it. At least save

some lives."

"So you attempted a suicidal interstellar journey home with a small vessel designed basically for

interplanetary trips?" Janeway asked.

Tyla stood firm, her jaw jutting out more than before. "We did what we felt we must to save our people."

Janeway nodded. She could see the clear determination in Tyla's eyes. For the moment Janeway was

willing to accept Tyla's version of the events. The Qavok captain, on the other hand, was pushing the

envelope. Janeway compressed her lips in irritation.

"The Lekk woman is telling you a child's tale, Captain. It is a waste of time to listen to her. If you do not

remove your ship within the next five minutes, we will destroy your ship and take the yacht. It will be the

same to us either way."

"Captain Qavim," Janeway said, turning to face him squarely. "If attacked, we will defend ourselves. Do I

make myself clear?"

"We have the right to our property," he said, seemingly sneering at her, if she was interpreting his

expression correctly.

"Any attempt to destroy or capture the other craft before a peaceful resolution is reached will be

regarded as a hostile military action against us." Janeway stared at him, not blinking. "Trust that we will

respond accordingly."

The Qavok captain's eye slits seemed to enlarge slightly; then he cut off, leaving only Tyla on the screen.

"Stand ready," Tyla said to Janeway. "He will not wait the five minutes. He will attack."

"Thank you," Janeway said, smiling. "We can take care of ourselves. You just hold your position."

"Thank you, Captain," Tyla said, and cut the connection.

Janeway turned to Chakotay and nodded.

"Shields up," he said. "Stand by weapons."

Janeway sat down in her chair as the first volley of the Qavok's directed energy weapons hit Voyager.

"Short five minutes," Tom said.

"The guy's predictable," Janeway said, holding her coffee cup to keep what was left of it from spilling in

the slight shaking.

"Screens holding," Chakotay said. "One hundred percent."

"No report of damage, Captain," Kim said.

"Return fire," she ordered. "Target their weapons only. We don't want to destroy them and start an

all-out war."

It took only five quick shots, less than three seconds, before the Qavok frigate was disarmed.

"Cease fire," Janeway said. "Hail Captain Qavim."

"Hailing, Captain," Kim said.

A few moments passed. "No response, Captain."

Janeway leaned back in her chair and sipped her cold but still wonderful coffee. "We'll just let him sit for

a minute," she said. "Give him time to have a cup of coffee and think over his options."

On the bridge of the Qavok frigate, reports of damage poured in. A faint smell of smoke filled the air,

and Qavim's junior officers standing at three stations seemed far too excited for their own good. Excited

officers are reckless officers, he thought. He would have them replaced later.

"Gun Turret Number One totally destroyed!" Qubo, his executive officer, said. "No survivors."

"Go on," Qavim said.

"Gun Turret Number Two completely demolished. No crew reporting in. All presumed dead."

Qavim nodded and the list of damage continued. The naturally cheerless atmosphere of the Qavok bridge

was now grim. Only the executive officer's voice droned on through the faint smoke and smell of burnt

wires.

Qavim partially listened while thinking back over the last few minutes. He had underestimated his enemy.

He would not make that mistake again, providing there was an "again." Surviving to have another chance

at that ship would have to be his priority.

After the list of damage was finished, he stood up from his captain's chair as if trying to regain a measure

of control over his destiny.

"They hail us, Captain."

"No response," he said, staring at the screen and the alien ship floating between him and the yacht.

"Withdraw from the combat zone immediately."

"Yes, Captain!" His executive officer executed the order without delay.

As the ship turned and moved off, Qavim again sat down in his command chair. He had made a mistake

that should have gotten them killed. For all he knew, Voyager's captain could have been as bloodthirsty

as many of his fellow officers in the Qavok Space Forces. She might still come after his frigate to finish it

off, if he provoked her sufficiently. But he didn't feel she would. He had been taught that retreat could be

the wisest course of action under some circumstances. Not often, but now seemed to be one of those

times.

He would retreat, repair their weapons, and possibly watch from a safe distance for the next move

Voyager would make. The fact that his enemy only disarmed his frigate signalled to him that the

Federation ship did not wish to engage his powerful vessel in battle. This Voyager captain was wise.

But now was not the time to let professional respect get in the way of his plan to exact revenge from

Voyager. The real question was, how he could pass the buck for his own failure to recapture the prince's

yacht. The Voyager captain was no longer his immediate enemy. It was certain that someone's head

would roll. His task now was to make sure that rolling head was someone else's.

"Orders?" Qubo asked.

"Start repairs on weapons. Hold position."

He watched his men start to work, then went back to the most important problem facing him: survival.

Would the admiral believe it if he said his ship had been ambushed? No, that would probably not work.

Nobody would believe that the renegade Lekks would have been able to set up an ambush in advance of

their escape. Especially not in interstellar space. He needed a story that would be corroborated by his

crew, or at least not refuted by the ship's records.

There was no doubt that Qubo was looking for an opportunity to take over as captain. There was no

way that Qubo would lie for Qavim; by simply telling the truth he would be in line for promotion. That

thought gave Qavim an idea. Suppose he made his executive a collaborator with the Lekks? His mind

started working on a scenario that might convince the admiral. Qavim would first tell Qubo a story that

was calculated to cause him to compromise himself. And, then, he would see where that would lead.

With luck, he would return with ten ships and destroy this Voyager.

"Return to home base," he ordered. "Pace one."

"Captain," Ensign Kim said. "The Qavok ship has jumped to warp, heading back in the direction it

came."

"Giving up, or going for reinforcements?" Jane-way said. "I'd wager on the latter."

"So would I," Paris said.

"The yacht apparently suffered damage during the pursuit," Chakotay said. "It's going to need some

major work on the engines."

Janeway nodded. "Is the yacht small enough to be brought into our shuttle bay with the tractor beam?"

Chakotay glanced at his screen, then nodded.

"Fine. Do it and let me know when it's aboard. I want to talk to our guests."

Chakotay only nodded as he set to work.

Janeway stood and took her empty coffee cup. "I'll be having a word with Mr. Neelix."

Chakotay glanced up at her and smiled. "Don't worry, B'Elanna will find a way to replicate the coffee."

"I sure hope so," she said, laughing. "But until then, I'm not missing my second cup for anything."

Tyla watched the Qavok ship retreat in disbelief. In all her years, she would have never imagined such a

day. But she would have also never imagined being captured and then escaping in the Qavok prince's

royal yacht, either.

She dropped down into one of the plush chairs and looked around. She felt comically incongruent in the

posh quarters of the princely yacht. The tapestries on the walls of the living quarters alone must have cost

more than she had earned in her entire life. Even the simple boxes on the dressing cabinets were inlaid

with gold and encrusted with glittering jewellery.

Unfortunately, the lavish extras hid no console for weapons systems in the ship. Judging from the absence

of anything warlike, Tyla assumed the ship was never intended to travel any great distances without a

military escort of some sort. The yacht was clearly designed solely for the comfort and privacy of the

prince and his guests.

Tyla had laughed as she searched the vessel. The prince's taste in women was truly ecumenical, judging

from the various holophotos of Qavok women in various stages of undress. She wondered how many of

them were his wives. Or were they just slaves, like the Lekks were supposed to become.

The small ship jerked slightly as the alien ship Voyager took it under control.

Tyla glanced at Dr. Maalot and tried to nod reassuringly. This Captain Janeway looked trustworthy, but

too much was riding on how Tyla handled matters next. If she could reach an understanding with the

captain of the Voyager, she might be able to get home in time to save her home world.

Tom Paris watched as the bay doors closed behind the flowing lines of the Qavok yacht. He'd seen a lot

of beautiful ships, but this one was right up there near the top of the list. He wanted to just go over and

stroke the gold- and silver-plated surface. Even sitting on the deck, the ship looked as if it wanted to fly,

as if it were speeding through a blue sky over a calm ocean.

But he didn't move. Instead he stood waiting alone as the door in the side of the yacht slid silently open

and Lieutenant Tyla stepped out onto the deck, followed by a Lekk man.

Tom felt the tightness in his chest as Tyla stopped and looked around the bay, then turned and strode

toward him. She was gorgeous, in a dark red tunic and black tights. The tunic accented her bright red

hair. Even more beautiful than she had appeared on the screen.

Behind him the door to the shuttlebay slid open and Seven of Nine entered, moving to his side.

He forced himself to swallow and then smile, making sure Tyla had a friendly face to greet her.

"Welcome to Voyager," he said, stepping forward and extending his hand.

The vivacious redhead grasped his arm firmly when he extended his hand toward her. Apparently, an

arm-grasp, quite similar to that practiced in ancient Rome, was the Lekk custom of greeting, at least in

their military.

"I'm Lieutenant Paris. Tom," he said. "Welcome aboard Voyager."

"Second Lieutenant Tyla of the Lekk Deep Space Force," she said. Her gaze held his for a moment, and

then she smiled. "A real pleasure!"

Turning toward her passenger, she added, "This is Dr. Maalot, ship's astrophysicist."

"Seven of Nine," Tom said, taking a deep breath and forcing himself to do his share of introductions.

"A Borg?" Maalot asked, somewhat shocked.

"I was with the Collective, once," Seven said. "I am no longer."

Tom managed not to smile. He'd seen Seven go through this sort of introduction a number of times now.

Maalot nodded; then with one long, last gaze at Seven, he turned back toward Tom.

"Lieutenant Paris," Tyla said, moving to a more formal posture. "I must report to your captain. I have

important information your ship will need if the Qavoks return in force."

"I don't see a problem with that," Tom said, smiling at Tyla. "But first the captain ordered me to see to it

that you two receive medical attention, if needed."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Tyla said, relaxing a little and touching his arm again. "But we are fine. We are

most anxious to talk to your captain immediately."

Tom wished he had an excuse to delay her for just a little while longer. But duty called.

"And your science officer," Dr. Maalot said. "Since much of my report is of an astrophysical nature, I will

need to talk to a science officer."

"I think the captain will, most likely, be the best person on both counts."

"I will also be able to supply needed information," Seven said.

"Good," Dr. Maalot said, again glancing somewhat fearfully at the Borg. "There isn't much time left."

Paris glanced at Tyla, who only shrugged. "He's right."

"I think Voyager can handle the Qavok ships," Tom said.

"It's not the ships I'm worried about," Dr. Maalot said. "It's the dying neutron stars."

Seven stepped forward suddenly and faced Dr. Maalot, towering over him. "Explain."

Tom pulled Seven back gently by the arm. "I think it would be better to tell it all to the captain."

Seven glanced at Tom, then nodded and turned toward the bay entrance without saying a word.

Tyla and Dr. Maalot both looked a little shocked.

Tom smiled and shrugged. "She gets a little excited when science comes up."

"So should we all, Mr. Paris," said Maalot, whose tone reminded Tom of one of his stuffier professors at

the Academy.

"Uh, yes, well Please come this way," he replied, gesturing for the two to follow him. They did, at a

distance. This was going to be a long day.

JANEWAY HAD JUST FINISHED THE LAST OF HER SECOND cup of coffee when Paris

escorted their two guests onto the bridge.

Tyla looked around, taking in all that she saw. She was a striking officer, with her red hair and tunic, but

Janeway's gaze was drawn more immediately to the man with her. He was Dr. Maalot, she presumed.

Like Tyla, he had deep green eyes. But unlike Tyla, with her confident demeanour, his eyes were filled

with worry. Deep worry. How did two such different personalities end up escaping together?

Janeway rose from her command chair and moved up toward her guests. Tyla stepped forward, directly

in front of Janeway, with Maalot hanging back a little.

"Captain, I don't know how we can thank you," she started off saying. "If you would just help us get our

ship repaired, we'll be gone as quickly as possible."

Janeway waved the lieutenant's comments aside. "You needed help and we were close by. I assume this

is the Dr. Maalot you spoke of?"

Tyla nodded and turned as Maalot took half a step forward and stood in front of the captain. "A pleasure

meeting you, Captain. And thank you from all our people."

"Glad to have you both aboard. Please follow me. We'll go where we can talk."

Janeway led her two guests into the meeting room off the bridge. For some reason Dr. Maalot was

bothering her. There was something disturbing about the Lekk doctor that she couldn't put a finger on.

Chakotay, Paris, Ensign Kim, Seven, and B'Elanna joined them. Janeway waited until all were seated,

then turned to Lieutenant Tyla.

"I'd like a brief account of how you have ended up in this situation? If you wouldn't mind?"

"Captain," Dr. Maalot broke in. "I fear the neutron-star situation is approaching a critical point, if only I-"

Janeway cut him off with a raised hand. "First things first, Doctor, if you don't mind. I have a military

situation on my hands here and that must be dealt with first. It will only take a moment, I'm sure."

Maalot swallowed and nodded.

Tyla glanced at her companion, and then faced Janeway. Janeway could see sparks of irritation in the

woman's eyes. She wasn't exactly happy at the moment. Probably because Janeway had ignored her

request to have the yacht fixed.

After a moment's hesitation, Tyla started into her report. "The Qavoks have been scheming to annex our

planetary system into their empire for decades, but their first outward actions began about a year ago

when they attacked the heart of our home system."

"You beat them back," Janeway said.

Tyla smiled, the memory of the victory obviously a good one. "Soundly," she said. "They were

humiliated."

Janeway nodded. "So what happened next?"

Tyla's smile faded. "We are not naturally a military people, Captain. After we won, our leaders saw little

option but to negotiate. Many of us disagreed, but we lacked the means to counterattack."

Janeway nodded sympathetically. Maintaining the balance between peace and force was the hardest part

of her job and any other Starfleet captain's. It had taken humans centuries to learn that balance.

"During an initial meeting two weeks ago," Tyla said, "they deceived our political leaders and abducted

them. Our leaders were all taken to one of the Qavok planets, and are now hostages there. Dr. Maalot

and I happened to be present in the Congress Hall for an astrophysical report when the kidnapping

occurred, and we too were captured."

Janeway saw where Tyla's report was leading. "I see. You and Dr. Maalot, then, are the only people

who managed to escape?"

The lieutenant nodded. "Yes, Captain, so far as we know. There is something I must make clear here.

My people are in a state of war with the Qavoks. I believe the yacht is rightly a spoil of the war. I have

no intention of returning it."

Janeway raised her eyebrows, surprised at the seemingly sudden demands. The woman clearly had

courage, but not much working knowledge of diplomacy.

"That issue will be settled later," Janeway, said. "I'm sure we can come to some agreement how long

were you in flight?"

Tyla started to say something, then snapped her mouth shut Her face turned almost as red as her hair.

Janeway knew right at that moment the woman was going to be trouble.

Janeway maintained eye contact until Tyla finally answered. "One full day, at top speed."

"So at least two full days for Qavim to get back to his base, regroup, and come back to this location with

more ships."

Tyla nodded. "At least. If he doesn't get executed for failing when he reports back. It is a Qavok

tradition. Kill all failures."

"Couldn't happen to a nicer guy," Paris said.

Chakotay frowned at him and Janeway ignored the comment.

"Anything else you can think of that might help us in a fight with the Qavoks?"

Tyla shook her head.

Janeway nodded and turned. "Okay, Doctor, it seems we have a little time. It's your turn. How about

starting at the beginning so we follow you?"

Dr. Maalot nodded, swallowed hard, then said, "This might be a little technical"

"We'll manage," Janeway said, glancing at where Seven sat, staring at the doctor.

He glanced at Seven also, and then started. "Two weeks ago I was on a medium sized asteroid near the

outer edge of our home system, tinkering with a signal enhancing device attached to a large array of radio

antennae. I detected weak, rapidly variable, periodic signals from a binary pulsar."

"Binary pulsar?" Janeway asked, leaning forward. "Those are very, very rare."

Dr. Maalot could only nod. "From its extremely short orbital period of barely eight seconds, I

immediately deduced the nature of this neutron-star pair. Judging from the binary system's high relative

velocity with respect to the local stars, the pair might have been ejected from a triple-star system through

a cataclysmic event of some sort"

Maalot sounded quite proud of his discovery, as he had every right to be, as far as Janeway was

concerned. What he had found was one of the rarest things in known space.

"A pulsar binary with such a short orbital period?" Seven asked. "Are you certain?"

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StarTrek-Voy-017-DeathOfANeutronStarCAPTAINKATHRYNJANEWAYSATINHERCOMMANDchair,staringattheimageofthespeedingcraftonhermainscreen.Aroundherthebridgewassilent;awaitingsilence,aholding-breathsilence,asherbridgecrewstoodorsatattheirstationsandwatched.Atbestthesmallcraftwasbigenoughtoholdfourhumans,butth...

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STAR TREK - VOY - 17 - Death Of A Neutron Star

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