STAR TREK - VOY - 10 - Bless The Beasts

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CHAPTER 1

THE U.S.S. VOYAGER SWEPT THROUGH THE LONG NIGHT of the Delta Quadrant and all

around it the unknown stars were white diamonds strewn across the black velvet of space.

Captain Kathryn Janeway gazed at the vast starlit field on the bridge's main screen and pondered the

distance between Voyager and home. Seventy-thousand light-years. It was a figure that haunted her

dreams.

"Captain?" The voice belonged to Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres, chief engineer.

Janeway swung her command chair to face her. "What is it, B'Elanna?"

Torres peered at the diagnostic screen of her engineering console. A frown wrinkled her already

corrugated brow. "Our power levels are much lower than they should be. I've detected a problem with

the theta-matrix compositing system. It's not recrystalliz-ing the dilithium fast enough."

"Can you fix it?"

"Unknown," Torres responded. "I suggest we supplement with additional dilithium stores while I run a

level-one diagnostic on the system."

Janeway might have paused to wonder where in this vast quadrant she would find a fresh source of

dilithium. But her expression was one of complete confidence and self-possession the armor of command

"How much time do we have before this problem becomes critical?"

"Perhaps twenty-six hours before we experience serious power fluctuations. After that I won't be able to

guarantee our warp capability."

"We'll initiate a priority search for dilithium immediately," Janeway said.

The crew moved to do her bidding as smoothly as well-maintained microrelays. The sound of the

captain's voice-the confidence and certainty within it-kept morale high, an important consideration for a

crew traveling through an unknown quadrant.

"Initialing short-range scans," announced Ensign Harry Kim. Voyager was his first deep-space mission

and he was obviously determined not to disappoint Janeway.

"Bearing zero-three-five, mark-two-five," he said. "Negative results."

"Mr. Tuvok, assist Mr. Kim."

Tuvok, with that deep, steady Vulcan composure which had seen him and the ship through so many

crises, moved swiftly to respond. Only his expressive eyes occasionally betrayed him, and they now

revealed that although the head of Voyager's security was controlled he was not at ease, not at all.

"Long-range sensors reveal no trace of dilithium, Captain," Tuvok said.

Janeway's nod was barely perceptible. "Increase sensor range."

Harry Kim bent over his scanner. As he reconfigured his scan parameters the young ensign forced himself

to look unperturbed, but his hands gripped the console and his heart began to pound. The fate of the ship

might depend upon his search.

Then he saw it. There. Quickly double-checking to be sure, he smiled with relief as the scanner

reconfirmed his findings. "Raw dilithium crystal deposits," he reported. "Class-N planet bearing

three-two-nine, mark one-seven-five."

"Excellent," Janeway said, smiling briefly. "Good work, Mr. Kim. Mr. Paris, divert to the planet on

half-impulse power."

"Full impulse would be faster," Torres said.

"And use up our resources more quickly, too." Janeway let that sink in for a moment before turning back

to the helmsman. "As soon as you're ready, Mr. Paris."

"Ready now, Captain."

"Engage."

The ship shot forward through the cold night, hurtling toward its goal.

This is not a diversion, Captain Janeway told herself. This is a necessary step on the long path home. And

we are going home, even if it takes us years to get there.

A sudden arcing light, the sparking of electrical components, and a startled cry brought Janeway to her

feet.

Tom Paris was sprawled motionless at the base of the helm controls. The explosion had left his console a

fused and blackened mass.

Commander Chakotay, the Native-American first

officer, was already on his knees beside the fallen pilot, searching quietly for a pulse.

Janeway was again grateful for Chakotay's rocksteady dependability in a crisis. He had been a

formidable antagonist for both Starfleet and the Car-dassians in his days as captain of a Maquis ship, but

fate-and the Caretaker-had led him to the Delta Quadrant and bound him to Voyager.

She tapped her communicator. "Sickbay, medical emergency on the bridge. Initiate emergency medical

holograph on screen."

A moment later the image of a sour-faced, balding man in medical uniform appeared on the viewscreen,

"Please state the nature of the medical emergency."

"Explosion. Crewman unconscious."

On screen, the doctor read the ship's internal sensors. "Hmm. Second degree burns on the left hand and

arm. Shock. Blood pressure dropping. I'll transfer him to sickbay. Please ask Kes to meet me there. I'll

need her assistance to treat him properly."

Commander Chakotay looked at Janeway, who nodded. "Transporter," Chakotay said. "Prepare for

intership beaming, on my signal." The bearlike first officer tapped in coordinates and Tom Paris

disappeared in a shimmer of light.

The holodoctor smiled thinly. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'll attend to my patient."

"Of course, Janeway said.

The doctor's image rippled and was gone.

"B'Elanna," said Janeway. "I want some answers. To begin with, I want to know why that panel went

up."

The engineering chief was already examining the damaged comm with obvious chagrin. "I wish we could

fix machinery as quickly and easily as that

doctor does flesh," Torres said. "Sometimes I envy him." Crawling beneath the console, she pulled at a

protruding wire and half a panel came loose, narrowly missing her head. "Captain? I could use some

help."

"Mr. Kim," Janeway said.

Ensign Kim covered the space between his station and the helm in two long steps, taking his place at

Torres's side. Already deep into her diagnostics, she gave him the barest nod of acknowledgment.

Janeway watched quietly, musing on the strange fate that had brought a rebel half-human, half-Klingon

engineer into Voyager's life and engine room. Thank goodness, she thought, for the woman's quicksilver

brilliance and for her surprising friendship with Harry Kim. Their joint victimization on the Ocampa planet

as subjects of the Caretaker's biological experiments had welded a solid rapport between them. Janeway

had to acknowledge that Harry's interest in physics didn't hurt the bond.

The two crew members worked smoothly together, probing, quietly commenting. Soon Torres stood up,

brushed herself off, and nodded with studied control.

Janeway steeled herself. "How bad?"

Dark eyes met hers. "Not good. Backup flight controls can be temporarily improvised from engineering,

but it'll make an unwieldly system worse, and even that won't last very long."

"We need to replace the parts and rebuild the helm," Janeway said. Her heart sank at the thought of yet

one more obstacle blocking their path back home, but she banished the notion that Voyager was an

accursed vessel. She'd had her share of bad luck, yes, but most ships did. "Any thoughts as to what

caused the damage and how likely it is to happen again?"

Torres shrugged. "My guess is that a power surge

caused it, but I won't know for certain until I've run more tests. As to its source, and whether it will recur,

unknown."

Janeway felt that word grating upon her. Unknown. It just wasn't acceptable. An unknown power had

brought her ship and crew halfway across the galaxy. But she fought back her irritation. "Get started,

B'Elanna. Mr. Tuvok, how far off course did that power surge send us?"

"Approximately fifteen degrees off course," the Vulcan replied. "Might I suggest. . ."

Harry Kim burst in, garnering a frown from the protocol-conscious Tuvok. "Captain, there's a class-M

planet in the next system, fifth planet from a type-B binary sun. We might find dilithium mineral deposits

there-or metals that we could refine and use."

"Well," Janeway said. "We don't have much choice, do we, Mr. Kim. Chakotay, you'll work helm

temporarily from engineering. Let's get into a wide orbit. Mr. Kim, once we're in range, scan that planet

within an inch of its life. And get Mr. Neelix up here in case he can identify it."

"Aye, Captain."

Under the first officer's steady guidance, Voyager limped into orbit.

The lift doors flew open and the short, stocky figure of Neelix, a Delta-Quadrant native and volunteer

member of Voyager's crew, entered the bridge. His coxcomb of stiff orange hair straggled above his

heavily freckled scalp, looking even more unkempt than usual.

"Captain," Neelix said. "I was just popping a meeg truffle souffle into the oven. If it falls I don't know

what the crew will have for dessert."

"Somehow we'll manage, Mr. Neelix," Janeway

said dryly. "Take a look and tell me if that planet ahead seems familiar."

Neelix squinted at the viewscreen and muttered, "Could be the Donyx System-that has a binary sun. In

which case that's Donyx Five. But its landmasses are the wrong color. Maybe the Giddis System? No,

the suns are too small and far apart." He ran a hand through his sparse hair. "Now, don't rush me."

"Captain," Ensign Kim said. "I've finished my scan and I have good news and bad news."

"Report, Mr. Kim."

"The planet is inhabited, and its civilization is advanced enough to provide at least rudimentary

engineering. They seem to have some mass transportation and communications systems and there are

signs of developing air travel."

"And the bad?"

"The system's binary suns are very active, even volatile. I'm getting some odd energy readings from them.

There's no telling how the ship's systems might be affected."

"Can we compensate?"

"For the time being."

"That doesn't sound too bad considering how few choices we have," Janeway said. "Anything else?"

"The planet-it's a pre-warp civilization."

Janeway and Tuvok exchanged guarded looks of dismay.

Harry Kim watched them, his discomfort obvious. "I know that Starfleet prohibits contact between

pre-and post-warp technological societies."

"Except in an emergency," Janeway said. "And this surely qualifies." She saw Tuvok frown but decided

to i gnore it. The ship had to get repaired.

"Folog's Moon?" Neelix mused. "No, they don't

have any atmosphere anymore. Sar Este Fourteen? It's the right size, but there should be warning orbitals

and a gas giant. ..."

Janeway waved him away. "Never mind, Mr. Neelix."

"Captain," Ensign Kim said. "The planet-the people below. They're hailing the ship, or trying."

"It appears that the first-contact decision has been taken out of our hands," said Tuvok.

Janeway nodded. "Open a hailing channel, Ensign."

"They're coming in on some strange frequency," Kim said. "It'll take me a moment to-there, got 'em.

Audio only." His eyes met Janeway's. "You're on, Captain."

She stepped forward, took a deep breath, and said, "This is Kathryn Janeway, captain of the Federation

Starship Voyager. I send greetings and request your aid. Our ship is in urgent need of repairs. We

request your permission to send down a party for supplies."

In response the universal translator spat and whistled, producing birdlike twitterings almost beyond the

range of Terran audibility.

But they did not, apparently, outstrip ultrasensitive Vulcan hearing. Tuvok flinched as a particularly high

squeal climbed several octaves in as many seconds. "Mr. Kim, I request that you lower the volume."

"Yes, sir." For the first time Harry Kim reflected that possessing enhanced physiological abilities was

perhaps not always a blessing.

The translator fought with itself, yielding gibberish and static from which only one or two words-

"deputized" and "planet"-could be understood.

"Can you make anything of that?" Janeway asked, glancing at Tuvok.

He shook his head.

"Please repeat your message," Janeway said. "We regret that we are having difficulty receiving it."

Again the translator warbled. Then the gibberish resolved into comprehensible words and a smooth male

voice could be heard to say, "Voyager. Greetings from the planet of Sardalia. You and your crew are

welcome, most welcome. Come ahead. We will have people deputized to meet you. Please hurry, we

await you most eagerly."

"Friendly, isn't he?" Janeway said sotto voce.

Tuvok stood and approached Janeway. "Captain, I suggest caution."

"Of course, Mr. Tuvok. That's why I'm going to send you and Commander Chakotay down to the

surface. I can't think of two more cautious individuals, can you?"

CHAPTER

THE PLAZA WAS A GRACEFUL SPACE FILLED WITH THE

rustle of orange leaves on the wind and the splash of water against stone, a quiet refuge in a bustling city.

Near the fountain at the center of the plaza stood three tall, thin beings dressed alike in long silver tunics

and leggings that ended in tapered boots. The two males wore their fine feathery purple hair in elaborate

bead-flecked braids. The female's hair fell unconstrained around her oval face. All three had large slanted

golden eyes encircled by elaborate silver tattoos.

By Terran standards, their arms and legs had an elongated look, as if each limb, each digit, had an extra

joint somewhere. Their arms were clasped on their chests in an oddly birdlike manner, and when they

walked their legs had a reversed bend that drew their feet up flush against their knees. Nevertheless their

unusual proportions gave them a peculiar grace, and their faces were remarkably humanoid, save for the

color and size of their eyes and the two delicate

vertical slits in the middle of the face where a nose would be.

Peculiar humming set the stones underfoot to vibrating as blue-white light filled the plaza. When the light

had faded, two strangers, one garbed in black and gold, the other in black and red, stood suddenly on

the mottled pavement before the fountain.

Their golden eyes widened with surprise, but otherwise the Sardalians maintained their composure and

almost-but not quite-managed to convey the impression that they were fully accustomed to the daily

materialization of unknown space travelers from thin air.

"Welcome," said the smallest, thinnest dignitary in an incongruous basso voice.

The Starfleet officers smiled. At least, Chakotay did. Beside him, Tuvok nodded gravely.

Chakotay thought that the tall, elegant natives of this planet in their glittering clothing resembled ancient

Terran illustrations of children's tales, marvelous and fanciful. Repressing a smile at the thought, he sniffed

the breeze appreciatively. There was a spicy tang to it that he liked very much, and a hint of salt and

moisture that he associated with memories of a visit to a water planet.

The tallest Sardalian, evidently a female, held her many-jointed hands out toward them. Her voice when

she spoke was rich and fluting. "You are from the spaceship, the Voyager? Welcome, yes, come and be

welcome. Our city is called Vandorra. We often receive visitors here from above."

"Indeed," said the third official. He wore what appeared to be a silver badge of authority on his left

shoulder. "We're a regular refueling stop for the G'mein and the Rika freighters." He paused, obvi-

ously expecting recognition at the mention of the names. When none was forthcoming he continued

gamely. "And whom do you represent?"

"The United Federation of Planets," said Chakotay with a wry smile. What he said was true, but the

words still felt funny coming out of his mouth. He had been a sworn enemy of this very federation only a

short time before. "We're an alliance of approximately one hundred and fifty planetary governments and

colonies."

"The Federation?" Golden eyes blinked languidly. "We've never heard of it." "It's quite a distance from

here." "Ah, well, then that accounts for it. You are welcome. And which of you is the captain?"

Chakotay took another step forward. "I'm Commander Chakotay, first officer of the Starship Voyager.

This is Lieutenant Tuvok."

A look of what might have been confusion clouded the Sardalian leader's face. Chakotay wondered if the

Vulcan's severe appearance had alarmed him. Obviously, something was wrong.

"Am I to understand," said the Sardalian, "that neither of you is the captain?" "That is correct," Tuvok

said. The confusion hardened into outrage. "Well, this is terrible. Against all of our protocols. It simply

won't do, won't do at all. We must have your captain. What am I to tell the Lord Councillor? Oh, no, no,

no. I simply cannot present a lesser officer. It's impossible."

Before either Starfleet officer could say a word the Sardalians folded their arms across their chests,

turned as one, and retreated, muttering among them-

selves, leaving Tuvok and Chakotay alone in the plaza.

"So much for our welcoming committee," said Chakotay.

"How illogical of them to demand the presence of Captain Janeway." Tuvok sounded both puzzled and

intrigued. He would, of course, never show annoyance. "Nevertheless, alien protocols must be observed.

The captain must be told."

The first officer tapped his commbadge. "Away team to Voyager. Come in, Voyager."

"Go ahead." Janeway's voice was as clear as if she were standing in the plaza with them.

"Captain, we seem to have inadvertently offended our hosts. They demand that you beam down

immediately. From what we've gathered, their customs forbid them from presenting junior officers to their

lord Councillor."

"Chakotay, is it really that important?" The impatience in Janeway's voice was palpable.

"I'm afraid so."

Janeway's exasperated sigh could be heard on the far side of the plaza. "I'll be right down."

Lights flickered and dipped in the cavernous reception hall. The arched walls were embellished by richly

embroidered tapestries and lustrous mosaics whose sinuous patterns and strange anthropomorphic

shapes seemed to writhe against the dark stone.

The towering Sardalians, both men and women, were arrayed in great gauzy confections bedecked in

gem-encrusted embroideries, their fine purple hair piled high and braided, trailing wisps of lights and

shimmering silver plumes. The air was filled with

their perfume as they stalked gracefully through the hall.

Janeway had insisted that Chakotay and Tuvok accompany her, and she was glad of their company now

in this looming group. The scale of the room, of the very table and seats-more like padded perches-was

oversize by Terran standards. Janeway couldn't help feeling a bit dwarfed.

"We bid welcome to our honored guests," said Lord Councillor Kolias, holding aloft a crystal goblet

whose facets cast coruscating reflections against the walls and ceiling. "We Sardalians pride ourselves on

hospitality and we can assure you, Captain Janeway, that you will have the full benefit of it."

Murmurs of agreement and the tinkling of glasses filled the room.

"More snuff, Captain?"

Kolias was the assiduous host, perched beside Jane-way, serving and fussing until she longed to

frogmarch him to a safe distance of at least two body lengths. He seemed to have no recognition of the

concept of personal space.

However, diplomatic etiquette must be observed. Janeway held up her lacy sculpted goblet and smiled

graciously as Kolias filled it with sparkling silver dust. She pretended to sniff it-and palmed a bit of the

stuff for later analysis.

In a tall, reedy lot Kolias was easily the tallest and thinnest of all present a walking skeleton towering over

his comrades. His mane of braided purple hair was surmounted by an oddly peaked embroidered cap

and his golden eyes were rimmed by elaborate silver tattoos that resembled fleurs-de-lis. How such a

thin, enervated-seeming man had the energy to be so

loquacious was beyond Janeway's understanding- and nearly beyond her tolerance.

Throughout the elaborate proceedings Janeway had kept her expression pleasant despite her mounting

irritation. Maintaining the best of military poise, she had let herself be presented to this councillor and that,

had met what seemed like the entire population of the city, had responded to toast after toast. But she

had yet to discuss her specific concerns with the Lord Councillor.

"Excuse me." A Sardalian male with blunt features and an officious expression blocked Janeway's path.

His clothing was quite subdued compared with that worn by the others in attendance a tunic, robe, and

leggings in varying shades of blue and purple. The silver marks around his eyes were thin, unembellished

lines. "You are the space captain?" His tone was urgent.

"That's right," Janeway replied. What a refreshingly direct question, she thought.

"You must talk with me. There is great need-"

"Borizus," said a fluting female voice. "Just what do you think you're doing?"

The girl stood half a head taller than Janeway. Her amethyst hair hung to her waist in long polished

waves. Her skin was smooth and lustrous, her golden eyes slightly tilted, and her silvery robes were

encrusted with gems. But her tone was icy and her manner toward her countryman was that of cold anger

mixed with undisguised contempt.

"How dare you intrude upon our guest's enjoyment without being introduced?" she said. "Did you have

my father's permission to address these visitors? Did you?"

Borizus bristled. "I don't require Kolias's leave to speak."

So this was Kolias's daughter, Janeway thought. And spoiled rotten by the looks of her.

"You're only second minister," the girl said. "That doesn't entitle you to take such liberties." She put her

hand upon Janeway's arm as if to lead her away from something ugly.

But Janeway was not so easily deflected. "Excuse me." She pulled her arm free and turned to confront

the man. "Sir, is something wrong?"

Borizus opened his mouth to speak. His entire manner cried out that yes, yes, there was something

extremely wrong. But before he could communicate his problem, Lord Kolias himself was looming over

the group, asking, "Just what is happening here?"

"Lord Kolias." Borizus's tone was ingratiating. His face changed in an instant to a smooth closed mask. "I

merely wanted to invite our guests to tour the city's power facilities."

"You forget yourself, Borizus. They must first tour the Central Palace. But your enthusiasm is

commendable." Kolias smiled tightly at Janeway. "Please forgive this transgression."

Janeway knew better than to become involved in local politics. She nodded with chilly courtesy and said

to Borizus, "I hope there'll be time to see the power plant later."

He bowed and backed away.

Kolias proffered his multijointed arm. Janeway took it, allowing herself to be ushered toward the center

of the room.

"It is a lovely evening, yes?" Kolias said.

Janeway felt a sudden urge to grab one of the lofty councillor's elbows and yank him down to her own

eye level. Enough small talk. Instead, she smiled her brightest smile and said loudly in the voice she

reserved for dealing with especially recalcitrant admirals, "Lord Kolias, on behalf of my officers and

crew, I thank you for this splendid welcome. Your hospitality is both capacious and memorable."

There was the light tinkling of delicate notes upon the air. The assembled courtiers and guests were

tapping their snuff glasses to indicate their approval.

"However," Janeway said. "We've already stayed too long and our ship urgently requires our attention.

Therefore, we would like to meet with your top engineers as soon as possible."

Her words were met with a look of pained disbelief from the Lord Councillor and a mutter of

disapproval from the crowd. Janeway didn't care. She had wasted enough time.

"But this is quite irregular, Captain," said Kolias.

"In that case, we bid you good night. We will discuss arrangements for later meetings from our ship."

Giving her senior officers a nod to follow her, Janeway strode toward the huge, looming doorway.

"Captain!" It was Kolias, hurrying after her in his strange storklike way. "Please, wait. We're not

accustomed to such abrupt departures."

Janeway's smile as she gazed upward would have melted the heart of an icebound moon. "Lord

Councillor, perhaps I should apologize for our bluntness. It's part of our culture. However, the hour is

late and we have much to do."

"But have you sampled our golange dust? The mosquibas powders?" Kolias sounded as though he were

on the verge of tears.

"Wonderful, simply wonderful." Janeway kept the sharpness out of her voice. Would this Sardalian

diplomat never get beyond trivialities? "Councillor, I'm sure you can appreciate my position. My ship is in

dire need of repairs, and . . ."

"You must be exhausted. Let us not speak of such tiring matters now. Good night." Kolias folded his

arms across his chest and turned away.

Janeway knew that she had been dismissed. She didn't like it. For a moment her gaze locked with

Tuvok's, and she saw what she might have taken for sympathy if the eyes into which she stared hadn't

belonged to a Vulcan. It galvanized her into action. Kolias may have dismissed her, but she had not

dismissed him.

Pitching her voice at a near-shout so that it would carry, she said, "Lord Councillor, I'm afraid that I

simply must beg your indulgence."

Kolias was already halfway across the wide ballroom, covering astonishing distances with his long

spidery legs. At the sound of Janeway's voice he turned, but before she could say more he faltered,

clutching his head and gasping for breath. Janeway watched in horror as Kolias stumbled and collapsed,

nearly striking his head on the banquet table.

Yet his plight seemed to go unnoticed. No one in the crowd reacted except a lovely young girl with

streaming lavender hair, who went quickly to his side. It was the same girl who moments before had so

contemptuously dismissed the upstart Borizus Kolias's daughter.

"Father," she cried. "Quickly. Inhale this." She held a faceted bowl filled with a pink powdery substance

below his nose slit and tenderly propped up his head on her arm.

The stricken man sniffed, then inhaled more deeply. The contents of the bowl disappeared.

In a short time the Lord Councillor seemed to rally. His breathing came more easily, his eyes brightened,

and he sat up. Joint by joint he racheted himself to his feet.

Janeway turned to Tuvok and Chakotay, and said quietly, "What do you think that was all about?"

"Some kind of a seizure, perhaps?" said the Vulcan. "I am no doctor, nor a judge of these people, but

that man looked severely ill."

Chakotay shook his head as if to clear it. "These Sardalians seem obsessed by formality and the rules of

their etiquette," he said. "But not one of them except the girl made a move when Kolias fainted just now.

They didn't even look surprised. It was as if they expected it."

"Strange. And I haven't been able to get even one of them to introduce me to an engineer," Janeway said.

"Nor to discuss our repair needs, the manufacturing of parts, anything." She eyed her officers. "So what

have we learned about this place this evening?"

"The people seem peaceful and prosperous," Tuvok said. "It appears to be a pleasant place. But one

wonders how they ever accomplish anything besides ritual socializing." He raised an eyebrow, an obvious

sign of his desire to be finished with receptions and back at his post aboard Voyager.

"Captain." Lord Kolias approached, his odd jolting gait slowed to a hobble. He leaned heavily on his

daughter's arm. "Forgive me. Marima here tells me that I have been remiss and must listen more closely

to what you have been saying. A true host never ignores his guests' needs. Please tell me whatever it is

that you may require and we will do our best to assist you."

Janeway's smile was swift and sincere. "Thank you,

Lord Kolias. We're desperately in need of replacement parts for damaged equipment. It would be most

efficient if we could put an engineer in communication with our chief of engineering."

"It shall be done. I shall dispatch our best engineer to you tomorrow, Captain." He turned to leave, but a

nudge from his daughter brought him back to the group. "Ah, yes, perhaps I should mention that we're

interested in trade and in the exchange of knowledge, of ideas. Perhaps we could arrange for one of your

crew members to stay here and teach us?"

"I'm sorry," Janeway said. "We have barely enough crew to run our ship. I'm afraid I can't spare anyone.

And it is against our cultural system to barter crew members for materials. Please forgive our primitive

customs."

"Of course," Kolias said. "We fully understand. Captain, our own cultural practices put great emphasis on

hospitality, as you have undoubtedly noticed. Forgive us. We will help you repair your ship without other

conditions." He bowed.

Janeway swiftly thanked the lord councillor and, with Tuvok and Chakotay, took her leave of the

gathering. As she ordered Voyager to beam them up she felt odd misgivings nagging at her. She didn't

trust the Sardalians. They were nice. Much too nice.

CHAPTER

RESTING HER HEAD AGAINST THE HIGH GRAY BACK OF HER ready-room chair, Janeway

mused upon her strange odyssey. So many worlds, so many questions.

By dint of determination-and a bit of desperation -she had forged a crew out of the renegade Maquis and

the survivors of Voyager's nightmarish trip from the Alpha Quadrant to the Delta.

Janeway had always had itchy feet-had longed for the adventure and exoticism of strange new places.

And here she was, seventy thousand light-years from home with a mongrel crew and patched-together

ship. She wondered if some malicious god somewhere was laughing and asking if she was having fun yet.

Her eyes came to rest upon the holopicture of her lover Mark Mason and her beloved dog Molly

Malone. She felt the same familiar longing, the same gut-wrenching tug every time she looked at them.

/ will get back. I'll get home. I swear it. Please be there.

She forced her eyes up and away from the photo.

The visual scan of the planet Sardalia played across her viewscreen, and she fixed on it gratefully. Tuvok

was right It seemed like a very pleasant place. Three major landmasses were linked by colossal bridges

that looked like golden spun silk. One continuous ruddy ocean surrounded t he land. Delicate boats

scooted along the sea-lanes under orange skies.

"Computer, magnify." She tucked a loose strand of reddish hair back in place, feeling more like herself.

The spires of Vandorra, surmounted by gold and silver caps, glittered in the sunlight. Graceful arched

dwellings radiated outward from central hubs that might have been meeting halls. The immaculate streets

of Sardalia's biggest city were thronged with people moving in a slow and orderly fashion. Vandorra was

obviously prosperous, her people diligent and well rewarded.

Plant growth was abundant and well tended There were parks everywhere, most buildings displayed at

least one flower box, and most had cascading roof

gardens.

But despite the beauty of the land and their own exotic grace the Sardalians on the streets appeared

gaunt, even listless. Why was that? What was wrong here? Janeway remembered Kolias's sudden

collapse. Her sense of uneasiness increased. "Viewscreen off," she ordered brusquely. The image died.

Janeway tapped her communicator. "Engineering."

B'Elanna Torres's voice filled the room. "Captain?" "B'Elanna, what's the status of our repairs?" "I think

we'll be able to work with the Sardalian materials Kolias provided, Captain. They're crude but usable.

I'm analyzing the first samples now."

"Keep me posted. Janeway out."

The captain stood and stretched. She was fidgety. A walk through the ship might calm her.

The mutter and chirp of relays, call and respond of systems checks, and low murmur of officers running

through their daily routines had always been a tonic for Janeway, and she availed herself of it now.

Striding along the corridors, Janeway also took comfort from Voyager's sturdy bulk, her steel gray

curves. A fine ship, with a fine young crew welded together by their common dilemma, determined to get

home. Nothing would deter them from that goal, nothing. Janeway would see to it.

And yet everywhere she looked she saw crew members staring wistfully at their own viewscreens, some

with open longing, others with tight, haunted expressions. Sad faces and sighs. Tear-filled eyes. No doubt

about it, the planet Sardalia had exerted a powerful spell on Voyager's crew.

Janeway preferred action to speculation-especially when the well-being of her crew was involved- and

now she didn't hesitate.

"Janeway to Chakotay."

"Captain?"

"Meet me in my ready room in two minutes."

Chakotay was waiting for her, his brush-cut head bent over a viewscreen. At times he displayed an

almost Vulcan composure, stoic and ironclad. His impassivity bespoke deep thought and deeply held

beliefs whose most obvious stigmata were the sweeping feathers tattooed across a quarter of his brow a

tribute to his tribe, bestowed by his father.

"Am I disturbing you?" Janeway asked.

Her first officer got to his feet in a hurry, for once

looking a bit embarrassed, as though he had been caught doing something forbidden. "Captain. I was just

looking at the planet."

"You too?" Janeway shook her head in mock despair. "Chakotay, I've been strolling the ship and

everybody seems fascinated by Sardalia. A bit too fascinated, if you know what I mean."

A half-smile lit his face for a moment. "You have to admit that it's an appealing place."

"Yes, for a pre-warp society. But do I detect a melancholy note in your voice?"

Chakotay shrugged. But Janeway refused to let it go. She leaned closer to him, staring into his eyes.

"You're more attuned to the crew than I am," she said. "They're less guarded around you. So tell me,

why this fascination? Why this particular place?"

"It's the first planet we've seen in a while that looks, well, homelike. The Sardalians aren't as

alien-seeming as some races we've encountered. And Van-dorra is a lovely city filled with gracious,

welcoming people. Small wonder that the crew's drawn to it. It looks like a nice spot to live. Or visit."

"You're suggesting shore leave?"

"Why not?" His eyes twinkled.

Janeway refused to be charmed. "I can think of a dozen reasons, Chakotay, beginning with the gap- no,

make it the chasm-between their primitive technology and ours."

The first officer nodded slowly. "But our personnel have been trained to be careful in these situations.

And I don't have to tell you the kind of pressure they've been under. They'd probably benefit from feeling

the ground beneath their feet, smelling fresh air, maybe even walking along a beach."

Chakotay was right, Janeway thought. What harm

would there be in a walk along a beach if it made her crew's eyes shine again? "All right. Schedule leaves,

to commence immediately."

Her first officer's grin banished any lingering misgivings she might have had.

The announcement of shore leave was greeted with general delight-and a few cheers-by the crew. The

Talaxian Neelix and his Ocampa companion Kes were among the first to sign up for a trip to the surface.

Delicate and elfin, Kes was a tiny blonde whose exotic beauty and sweet nature drew most of Voyager's

crew members to her, especially the males, much to Neelix's jealous displeasure. He had rescued

her-with Janeway's help-from a brutal group of Kazon-Ogla and now was extremely protective of her.

Kes returned-and reciprocated-his affection.

Just now Neelix was anxious to beam down and begin sampling the planet's food selection. He took his

duties as Voyager's chef very seriously, priding himself on the belief that his time spent as a scavenger

and scout in the Delta Quadrant could be put to no better use than in the service of the ship. But as he

strode eagerly toward the transporter room, Kes lagged behind.

"Is something troubling you, my sweet?"

Demurely she raised her eyes from the floor and gave him a searching look. "I hope the Doctor forgives

me," she said. "He really wanted me to stay here and continue learning procedures. He's come to rely on

me, Neelix. I hate to disappoint him. And besides, he never gets to go anywhere."

Neelix snorted. "He's just a program, Kes. He doesn't need a shore leave. And if he ever wants a

vacation he can always go down to the holodeck and indulge himself."

Kes looked pained. "Neelix, please don't speak about him that way. It's true that the doctor is a

hologram, but I've come to regard him as a real person. Just because he's not made of flesh and blood

doesn't mean that you can dismiss him so lightly."

The Talaxian rolled his eyes. A hug from Kes melted him in a moment. "Sorry, dear. Although you will

admit that he's easy to dismiss. After all, that's the nature of holograms. One command and they vanish,

poof."

Tom Paris approached. Neelix flashed him a sour look that said Paris was interrupting a private

conversation.

"Neelix." Paris gave him a perfunctory nod and turned toward Kes. "You're looking lovely today."

Kes dimpled. "Hello, Tom," she said. "How's the arm?"

"Completely healed, thanks to the doc. And you."

"Are you going on shore leave alone?"

"No. I'm waiting for Harry Kim to meet me here. Maybe we'll bump into you on the surface."

"That would be nice."

Before Kes could say more the transporter sang its song, a halo of light enfolded them, and they were

gone.

As B'Elanna Torres watched other crew members make plans for shore leave she felt a deep stabbing

envy that surprised her. Harry Kim had invited her to accompany him ashore and, with barely contained

disappointment, she had turned him down.

It wasn't fair, she thought. The planet below was a

treasure-house waiting for the right scientists She and Harry could have had a marvelous time prowling

around. The other members of the crew were competent but just not quick enough to see the possibilities

in things. Harry, at least, showed a creative flair when it came to engineering.

Why should I stay here to oversee all of the nitpicky details and paperwork? she thought. Any one of my

subordinates could do that.

The half-Klingon had never felt at home anywhere, except perhaps aboard a spaceship. Her brilliant and

restless nature, coupled with her natural tendency toward rebellion, had resulted in her decision to leave

Starfleet Academy during her second year. Joining the Maquis rebels had seemed like a natural next step.

Most of her Maquis friends and comrades were with her now, aboard Voyager, first among them being

Chakotay. And she was even grudgingly coming to appreciate the company of many of the Starfleet

officers she had encountered.

Never in her wildest dreams had B'Elanna Torres imagined that she would run the engine room of a

magnificent ship like Voyager. It occurred to her that she might be one of the most contented members of

the crew. She had her friends with her and enough engineering challenges to occupy even her agile mind.

Her warring selves had achieved if not a lasting peace, then at least a workable truce. Although she was

loath to admit it, this strange lost mission might have been the best thing that ever happened to her.

Impulsively, she tapped her commbadge. "Engineering to the bridge."

"Yes, B'Elanna?" It was Chakotay.

"Chakotay, I've been thinking. What if I went

ashore to supervise the collection of equipment and raw materials? I could expedite our collection

process and perhaps discover other sources for our repairs. You know that nobody can prospect for

components the way I can."

She waited eagerly for his reply.

"Negative, B'Elanna. We're down to skeleton crew as it is. I think you'd better concentrate on repairing

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CHAPTER1THEU.S.S.VOYAGERSWEPTTHROUGHTHELONGNIGHToftheDeltaQuadrantandallaroundittheunknownstarswerewhitediamondsstrewnacrosstheblackvelvetofspace.CaptainKathrynJanewaygazedatthevaststarlitfieldonthebridge'smainscreenandponderedthedistancebetweenVoyagerandhome.Seventy-thousandlight-years.Itwasafigure...

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STAR TREK - VOY - 10 - Bless The Beasts

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