STAR TREK - VOY - The Nanotech War

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CHAPTER 1

CAPTAIN KATHRYN JANEWAY clung grimly to the arms of her captain's chair as the ship bucked

and shuddered beneath her.

"How much longer?" she bellowed over the noise.

"About ten minutes!" Ensign Harry Kim yelled back from the science station. The bridge lights were

dimmed, indicating an ongoing emergency.

"Shields at fifty-two percent," Tuvok reported from tactical. A nearby sensor panel exploded in a noisy

shower of white sparks. The lieutenant commander's calm Vulcan features didn't even twitch. Janeway,

however, had to work at keeping her own face schooled into a calm she didn't feel-this ion storm was

one for the record books. Even Tom Paris's boyish face was grim as he bent over the navigation board in

a desperate attempt to keep the ship at least halfway steady. To Janeway's left, First Offi-

cer Chakotay's fingers stabbed madly at his own boards. Though Janeway suspected he was doing

nothing but monitor data, at least he could do something. All Janeway could do was watch and issue

orders.

Janeway's chair dropped several centimeters as another barrage hit the ship and her morning coffee

sloshed around her stomach.

"Janeway to engineering," she said. "B'Elanna, can we go to warp yet?"

"I wouldn't, Captain," came B'Elanna's voice over the intercom. "We'd do some serious damage to the

plasma manifolds, and the injectors are already misaligned. I'm trying to route more power to the in-ertial

dampers, but it's a losing battle."

"Shields at forty-six percent," Tuvok said.

Janeway clamped her teeth together.

The stars on the viewscreen leaped and squiggled into white worms as another ion onslaught hit the ship.

Janeway was about to tell Tom to blank the screen when something flicked past. An alarm buzzed at

Tuvok's station.

"What the hell was that?" Janeway demanded. The ship shook again.

"A ship," Chakotay interjected before Tuvok could reply. "It dropped out of warp and coasted past us."

"It is emitting a distress call," Tuvok said. "The ship is damaged. I am detecting only minimal shields."

"Mr. Paris, match course and trajectory," Janeway ordered. "Tuvok, can we extend our own shields

around it?"

"Extending the shields would lower them to less

than thirty percent," Tuvok replied. "An inadvisable move at this juncture."

Another panel sparked, and a small cloud of acrid smoke exploded upward. The ensign staffing it

jumped back with a yelp. Automatic fire-suppression units kicked in, filling the bridge with the chemical

smell of extinguisher compound.

"I'm reading one life sign on the ship," Harry Kim said. He was operating the board with his left hand. His

right was currently clutching the top of his console for balance. "It's a small ship, barely big enough for a-"

His eyes widened. "Captain, the ion storm is eroding the shields around that ship's warp core. Breach in

one minute."

"Extend those shields, Mr. Tuvok," Janeway snapped. "Lieutenant Torres, all power to the shields."

"Yes, Captain."

Tuvok's long fingers moved swiftly but unhurriedly over his panel. "Shields extended. They are now at

twenty-eight percent."

Janeway shot a glance at the viewscreen. The ship was indeed small. It looked like a needle with an

octagonal disk fastened to the back. Small protrusions stuck out from each corner of the disk, and

Janeway, once a science officer, made an educated guess that they were either warp nacelles, thrusters,

or both.

"The other ship's warp core is stabilizing," Harry said with genuine relief. At this range a warp core

breach from even so small a ship would do far more damage than any ion storm. "The life sign is also

remaining steady."

Voyager shook again. Janeway's knuckles were

white on the arms of her chair. The darkened bridge was lit solely by the red-alert emergency lights, and

she could still smell fire-suppression compound.

And then it stopped. The floor settled down, and the chaos simply ended. Janeway's ears rang in the

sudden silence on the bridge.

"We have passed through the storm," Tuvok reported.

Janeway stood up, wincing at the cramps in her fingers. She hadn't realized how tightly she'd been

gripping her chair until she let go. "Stand down red alert," she said. "All stations, I want full damage

reports. Open a hailing frequency."

The computer chimed once. "Open," Tuvok reported.

"Attention alien vessel," Janeway said. "This is Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation Starship

Voyager. Can you respond?"

A static-strangled voice gargled from the speakers, and the viewscreen showed a fuzzy image. Tuvok's

fingers danced over his panel. Voice and picture cleared a bit. The screen showed a creature

approximately the size of a large St. Bernard. It had four legs and a long segmented neck with a flattened

head perched atop it. The mouth was wide, the eyes spaced far apart. A pair of arms jutted from the

place where the neck met the body and ended in six-fingered hands. Janeway blinked as Tuvok's

ministrations brought the creature into clearer focus. Its body was covered in some sort of coating that

shifted and scintillated like strings of tiny rainbow beads caught in a breeze. Janeway's mind tried to

find a pattern to the movement and failed. It was simultaneously beautiful and unnerving.

The creature was working in a cloud of smoke. Wires and bits of equipment dangled from panels that

gaped like open sores. Janeway winced in sympathy. Another wash of static distorted the image for a

moment.

"... your help," the creature said, voice still slightly garbled. "I would otherwise have been destroyed."

"Is your ship heavily damaged?" Janeway rose and walked closer to the viewscreen.

"Yes. Many of my systems are nonoperational. Who are you? I was unable to understand the first part of

your broadcast."

Janeway repeated the information.

"Federation starship?" The creature ducked its head in what looked to Janeway like confused curiosity.

"You are a part of an intergalactic federation ? Have you then been watching us ? "

"We are a member of a galactic federation, yes," Janeway said. "But we haven't been observing your

civilization. Our presence here is coincidence. We were stranded in this quadrant several years ago, and

we're trying to make our way home. The ion storm caught us just as it did you," she concluded. "My

name is Captain Kathryn Janeway."

"And my name is Zedrel Vu of the planet Chi." Zedrel's head leaned forward, as if to get a better look at

Janeway and her crew. "I... that is, perhaps it would be... I mean, I should say..." Zedrel smacked broad

lips in a sound Janeway took for exasperation or uncertainty, though she had nothing but instinct to base

this on. "I beg your pardon, Cap-

tain Kathryn Janeway. I am the first-" More static. "-travel outside our own solar system and I was

unaware that I would meet another species so-" Static. "-not trained as a diplomat."

Uh-oh, Janeway thought. Sounds like first contact. She raised an eyebrow at Chakotay.

"His ship does have warp drive," the first officer reminded her, adding. "Or it did until a few minutes ago."

Janeway nodded. Her thoughts were running the same way. Starfleet's Prime Directive forbade contact

with any species that was not already capable of warp travel, but the Chi had just barely passed that

threshold. This was, however, still a first-contact situation, and such were always delicate. There was no

way to know exactly how a given species would react to the new knowledge that other forms of life

populated the galaxy. First-contact situations therefore made Janeway a little edgy.

"Do I understand, correctly, that this is your people's first warp ship?" Janeway asked carefully.

"It is," Zedrel replied. "I-" Static. "-and built it myself. With the government's aid, of course. People

already call it the Zedrel Drive."

Janeway couldn't decide whether the remark was meant to be self-deprecating, boastful, or merely

matter-of-fact, so she ignored it. "Do you need further assistance?" she said instead.

"I haven't fully assessed the damage yet," Zedrel admitted.

"The vessel's 'Zedrel Drive,' " Tuvok said with, possibly, a note of irony in his voice, "has been ren-

dered inoperative by the ion storm, as have its thrusters. The ship appears to have spent only a fraction of

a second at warp before the drive went offline, and it is uncertain whether the problem arose from the ion

storm or faults in the engine design. Life support is functional. Communications are functional but starting

to fail. The ship is completely unarmed."

"An excellent damage report, Mr. Tuvok," Janeway said. "Do you suppose you could also assemble one

for my ship?"

"Of course, Captain," Tuvok replied, not seeming to notice the sarcasm.

Janeway turned back to the viewscreen. "Captain Zedrel-"

"I'm not really a captain," Zedrel interrupted, and a spurt of static disrupted the image. "-an engineer."

"Engineer Zedrel, then," Janeway continued, nonplussed. "Our ship has also been damaged by the storm.

Once we've assessed the extent of it, may I contact you again and see what we can accomplish? Perhaps

together we can ensure our mutual safety."

"A fine idea, Captain."

Janeway nodded. Was Zedrel staring at her? Perhaps that was the custom of his people. Unplanned first

contacts were always complicated. With no background data there was no way to tell if you-or

they-were being polite or abrupt, helpful or offensive. A word or phrase could lead to war, peace, or the

accidental betrothal of your firstborn child. The best you could hope for was that everyone would un-

derstand you were trying to be polite. In this case, it looked as if Voyager was in some position of

power, but there could be factors Janeway knew nothing about.

Zedrel's wide-spaced eyes continued to fix on Janeway, and the odd body covering glimmered and

shifted.

"Good luck to you, then," she said. "We'll contact you soon. Voyager out."

The screen went blank, and Kathryn Janeway heaved a small sigh of relief.

"I can't give you more than war p one, and then only for short bursts," reported B'Elanna Torres. The bar

on the collar of her uniform gleamed softly in the subdued light of the conference room. Although Torres

was Janeway's chief engineer, the bar indicated her status as a provisional officer. A few tiny braids had

been artfully woven into her shoulder-length brown hair.

Torres's husband, Lieutenant Tom Paris, sandy-haired and blue-eyed, sat to her left. Harry Kim kept his

hands folded on the table next to Tuvok. Seven of Nine stood against one bulkhead like a statue, hands

behind her back, features even more impassive than Tuvok's. Her severely styled blond hair and

blue-gray eyes combined with the Borg implant over her left eye to make her expression seem even

stonier. The Doctor drummed his fingers with a hint of holographic impatience.

"The impulse engines and life-support systems weren't even touched," Torres continued. "But the plasma

injectors are a mess, and the-"

"Bottom line, B'Elanna," Janeway interrupted. "How long are we talking for repairs?"

"Without a shipyard or a station? Ten days if we're lucky. I'm betting on twelve. We also lost almost half

our stock of dilithium."

"What?" Janeway said, still trying to take in the idea of spending ten days on repairs. "How?"

"When we extended the shields to protect the 'Ze-drel Drive,' " Tuvok said, "enough ionic radiation

penetrated cargo hold seven to irradiate the dilithium stored there. It has been rendered useless."

"We can continue recrystalizing what we have," Torres put in. "But having such a small stockpile makes

me nervous."

Janeway puffed out her cheeks. "What else?"

"Sickbay is running perfectly," the Doctor said smugly. "I've successfully treated five cases of mild

radiation poisoning and a dozen minor injuries related to the turbulence. Nothing serious."

"Long-range sensors were hit pretty hard," Harry said. "Short-range seem to be all right. There's still a lot

of leftover radiation washing this sector, though, so I wouldn't count on using the transporters until it

clears up."

"Not unless you want to arrive looking like one of Neelix's souffles," Tom interjected wryly.

"The astrometrics lab has taken minor damage and requires repair," Seven said. "I assume, however, that

you would prefer I assist in engineering."

Janeway got up to stand behind her chair. "You assume rightly. B'Elanna, how long would repairs take if

we had the facilities of a shipyard or space station?"

Torres shrugged. "It would depend on the facilities. A full-blown shipyard could have us up and running

in a few hours. A decent space station? I'd guess a couple of days, maybe three."

"Well, then, I think it's time we had another talk with Engineer Zedrel." Janeway headed for the door as

the crew scrambled to their feet behind her.

Back on the bridge Chakotay looked up from his panel as the bridge crew relieved their substitutes and

took their places. Torres and Seven both headed for the turbolift to engineering.

"How bad is it?" Chakotay asked. Without sitting down, Janeway gave a quick explanation, and he

grimaced. "Could be worse."

"Could be better," Janeway said. "Mr. Tuvok, open a hailing frequency."

"Open."

"Engineer Zedrel, this is Captain Janeway."

Static crackled across the main screen again, and a distorted Zedrel shuddered into view. The odd body

coating continued to shimmer and shift, though it had settled into varying shades of blue instead of the

rainbow riot Janeway had seen earlier. "Captain. I have just now completed my damage survey."

"As have we." Judiciously, she explained their situation. "What's your status?"

"The ion storm destroyed most of my tool and repair programs," Zedrel reported. "I am unable-" Static.

"-than the most rudimentary work. The only systems that seem to be operational are life support and

communication." The picture fuzzed out for a moment, then came back into focus like a candle

that would soon gutter out. "... will probably fail soon as well. I will be stranded."

Janeway raised her voice. "We can tow you back to your planet if you send us the coordinates."

"Gratitude, Captain. I am sure my people would also-" The screen fuzzed again. "... gratitude. Perhaps

we-" More static. "-your repairs at our orbiting station."

"That would be most kind," Janeway said, mentally filling in the gaps. "Perhaps you should send us the

coordinates before your communications system fails completely."

". . . course, Captain."

"Got 'em," said Tom Paris at the helm just as Ze-drel's image vanished entirely from the screen.

"Engineer Zedrel's communication system has gone off-line," Tuvok reported.

"We're about four hours away by impulse," Paris added. "B'Elanna will be happy-we don't even have to

think about going to warp."

"Set a course, Mr. Paris," Chakotay ordered. "Tuvok, put a tractor beam on Zedrel's ship and let's get

moving." He turned to Janeway. "What did Zedrel mean by 'tool and repair programs'? Do you think his

ship is automated?"

"I was wondering the same thing." Janeway took her seat. "Zedrel is the only one on board. Doesn't that

seem strange to you? You'd think these Chiar would send more than one person out to test something as

important as their first warp drive."

On the viewscreen a green beam of light flashed out and caught Zedrel's needle-like ship. Chakotay

shrugged. "Maybe they wanted to minimize the risk.

Something goes wrong, only one person is in trouble instead of an entire crew."

"But if something goes seriously wrong-as it certainly did-you'd want to have at least one more person to

help with repairs, don't you think?"

"Perhaps," Chakotay said philosophically. "We can ask when we get to Chi."

CHAPTER

JANEWAY TOSSED THE PADD ASIDE. It clattered on her ready room desk, and she rubbed her

face with a heavy sigh. The Federation prided itself on having regulations and guidelines to cover every

first-contact situation a Starfleet captain might encounter. First Contact with a Warp-Capable Species

That the Federation Has Been Observing Section II, Subsection A. First Contact (Accidental) with a

Post-Industrial Species That Has Not Developed Warp Capability Section III, Subsection B. First

Contact with a Species That Previously Had No Concept of Alien Life and Therefore Wants to Destroy

All Other Species Section XIII, Subsection D.

Janeway reached for her coffee mug. Unfortunately, Starfleet didn't seem to have any specific rules and

regs for First Contact with a Species That Has Just Field-Tested Its First Warp Drive Some-

what Unsuccessfully Right Under the Nose of a Starfleet Vessel Which Is Lost In a Foreign Quadrant

and Doesn't Intend to Stick Around Any Longer Than It Takes to Make Basic Repairs.

She would have to wing it.

Janeway sipped the bitter brew Neelix had conjured up for her from the galley. He called it "coffee,"

though it bore only a passing resemblance to the real thing. At first she had started drinking it so as not to

hurt his feelings and to save on replicator rations, but over time it had begun to grow on her.

The padd lay quietly on her desk. Janeway grimaced and was reaching for it again when the door chime

rang.

"Come in," she called.

The door hissed open to grant Chakotay entry. He was half a head taller than Janeway, with the chiseled

features and facial tattoos of his heritage. His movements were relaxed and fluid as he approached her

desk, a striking contrast to Janeway, who felt stiff as a board after her study.

"We're about ten minutes from Chi," Chakotay told her. "The residual ionic radiation has faded some, so

the transporters are safe again. Any luck with the regs?"

Janeway shook her head. "Not really. I guess I'll have to make it up as I go."

"It seems like we do that a lot," Chakotay said with a wry smile.

"No disagreements there." Janeway stood up and stretched, wincing as her back and shoulders popped.

"When we get back to the Alpha Quadrant, I'm going to spend the next decade in front of the re-

view board, I just know it. Has Zedrel-or anyone else-tried to contact us?"

Chakotay shook his head. "Zedrel's communication system must still be down." He paused. "Is Zedrel a

'he' or a 'she,' do you think?"

Janeway laughed. "I've been wondering about that, too." She headed for the door. "For all we know, the

Chiar have only one sex. Or a dozen."

"Zedrel strikes me as male," Chakotay said, following. "I can't put my finger on why."

"Just be prepared to adjust your perceptions when we learn more about them."

The bridge was calm, filled with the soft hum of the ship and beeps of panel displays. Various crewmen

glanced at Janeway as she took her chair, Chakotay beside her. An engineer was working on the panel

that had exploded during the ion storm. The viewscreen showed Zedrel's ship still bathed in the emerald

light of the tractor beam.

"We're within sensor range of the planet Chi, Captain," Harry Kim said. "M-class planet, second from

the sun. One moon-uninhabited-one space station, and several hundred satellites in orbit. And

Captain-I'm detecting considerable dilithium deposits."

"Do they know we're coming?" Janeway asked.

Harry shook his head. "I don't know. We haven't been scanned that I can tell, but they may have sensors

we can't detect."

"Put the station on screen."

The stars vanished, replaced by a blue octagonal disk, the same shape as Zedrel's ship, though much

larger. A hemispherical hub was set on either side of the disk, and windows peppered many of the sur-

faces. It wasn't ring-shaped, which told Janeway that either the Chi had developed gravity generators or

they didn't mind working in weightlessness. Spinning an octagonal space station to simulate gravity would

be fraught with problems. As she watched, several smaller objects-ships, presumably,- coasted up to the

station or drifted away from it. Ground-to-orbit shuttles, then, were common. Another bit of information

for the mix.

It occurred to Janeway that this situation was very similar to the tim e when the Vulcans first contacted

humans. Right after the legendary Zephram Cochran had tested his new ship, a passing Vulcan ship had

spotted the warp trail and followed it back to Earth, sparking the eventual genesis of the Federation.

Now Janeway was playing the part of the Vulcans. The humans had greeted the Vulcans with peace,

friendliness, and, according to some historians, a fair amount of whisky. How would the Chiar greet

Voyager?

May as well get this started, Janeway thought, and ordered Tuvok to open a hailing frequency. She

schooled her features into neutrality and reminded herself that if she smiled, she should do it

close-mouthed. Although humans saw smiling as a friendly gesture, some species regarded it as baring

one's teeth.

"Attention, Chiar station," she said. "This is Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation Starship

Voyager. We come with peaceful intent. Engineer Zedrel Vu encountered an ion storm that damaged his

ship, though Zedrel himself is uninjured. We have offered him aid and are assisting his return to you.

Please respond." Janeway paused and waited.

She didn't feel overly tense, but there was still a certain feeling of stress in the air.

"No response," Tuvok said after a few moments.

"Continue broadcasting that message on a multi-band carrier," she said. "Tom, slow to half impulse."

"Half impulse," Paris said, and tapped his console.

"Mr. Kim, scan the station for-"

"Captain," Tuvok interrupted, "I am receiving a transmission."

Janeway lifted a hand. "On screen, then."

Another Chiar appeared on the screen. This one was a bit larger than Zedrel and was flanked by two

other Chiar whose faces were wrinkled and creased in what Janeway could only call consternation. The

delicate shimmering substance covered all three of them just as it had covered Zedrel. A fourth Chiar

head poked itself into the picture. Someone who wasn't visible spoke a sharp word, and the head hastily

withdrew.

"Attention, Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation Starship Voyager," said the first Chiar. "My

name is Nashi Ki, Secretary of State and Chief Diplomat of the Goracar Alliance of Chi. I welcome you

on behalf of the Chiar people and extend gratitude for your assistance. This is an historic moment for us.

We were .. . we were not expecting so early to meet an alien... that is, another species in our

explorations. Until now we had no proof that other life-forms existed. Your arrival is causing a stir."

Janeway smiled without showing her teeth. "I can imagine, Secretary Ki."

"Secretary Nashi is my correct title, actually," Nashi said politely. "And how properly should I address

you?"

"As Captain or Captain Janeway."

"Captain Janeway," Nashi repeated. "Captain, I am frankly uncertain what sort of protocol to apply to

this situation. In advance I hope you will forgive me and my people if I say or do anything that causes

offense out of ignorance."

Janeway relaxed slightly. "And I hope you and your people will do the same for us."

The two other Chiar, meanwhile, remained still and quiet, though colors continued to ripple across their

bodies. They looked at Janeway with what seemed to be curiosity, but they didn't stare with the same

intensity Zedrel had. Janeway decided not to ask who they were, opting instead to see if Nashi would

introduce them instead.

"May I speak with Engineer Zedrel?" Nashi said. "His family is relieved to hear he is uninjured, but they

are understandably concerned still."

Janeway awarded the Chiar silent points as a species-Nashi's first concern was for Zedrel's safety and

not whether his warp drive had been successful. She quickly corrected that instinct. Just because one

Chiar demonstrated compassion didn't mean that all, or even most, other Chiar had the same trait.

"Engineer Zedrel's communication system malfunctioned soon after we rescued him from the ion storm,"

Janeway said. "But as I said, he himself is uninjured."

"And the drive? Did it function? And from where do you come? Do you have a specific mission with

Chi? Can we-" Nashi broke off with a chuffing noise. "Apologies, Captain. I am supposed to be a

diplomat, but my tongue seems to have run away from me."

Janeway leaned an elbow on the back of Paris's chair. As protocol dictated, Paris and the rest of the

bridge remained silent and bent over their tasks, though Janeway caught them sneaking as many looks as

they could at the Chiar. No matter how many alien species they came across, a new one was always

fascinating.

"Perfectly understandable, Secretary," Janeway said cheerfully. "The short answer to your first question is

that the Zedrel Drive was a qualified success."

The two Chiar in the background shook their heads like a pan- of dogs shaking off bathwater. A sign of

what? Mirth? Glee? Disappointment? Secretary Nashi's eyes widened. "It works, then? Praise to the

moon! "

"It was a qualified success," Janeway said. "According to our readings, Engineer Zedrel stayed in warp

for only a fraction of a second before both our ships were hit by an ion storm." She went on to describe

the storm and the rescue. "As a result, Secretary," she concluded, "we find ourselves in a difficult

position. Our ship also needs extensive repairs, and they will be difficult to complete in space before the

next storm hits."

"Then you must use our station and its facilities," Nashi said promptly. "It would only be proper after you

rescued Zedrel. I insist, Captain."

Janeway smiled again. "And we express our gratitude."

"There are, perhaps, other arrangements we can make, do you think?"

"Such as?" Janeway replied cautiously. Around

her, she could feel the rest of the crew come quietly alert.

"Trade," Nashi said, and the other two Chiar shook their heads again. "There must be many things you

have that would interest us and many things we have that would interest you."

"I see." Less tense now, Janeway stood upright and put her hands behind her back. "We are actually

running a bit short on dilithium, Secretary. Perhaps we could-"

"Why, the very thing!" Nashi interrupted. "Captain, we must talk indeed!"

"I should introduce you to our... trade ambassador, Neelix," Janeway said. "Would a few of you like to

come aboard to negotiate? Or would you prefer to do so on your station?"

Nashi's eyes widened again. "Come aboard your ship? Captain, I find you honor me."

"I can make arrangements to transport you aboard as soon as we're within range, if you agree," Janeway

said.

"Transport? You mean with a shuttle?"

"We have a more direct method," Janeway said. "A device that will bring you instantly from your station

to our ship."

Nashi's head reared back slightly. "I look forward to experiencing this device, Captain, when you are

ready. Truly, this will be a day of history."

"This is my first officer, Chakotay," Janeway continued. Chakotay, recognizing a cue, rose and came

forward. "He will contact you once we're within transporter range and arrange for you and your

entourage to come aboard."

Nashi's head bobbed once. "Then I look forward to hearing from him."

They exchanged formal farewells, and the screen blinked back to a view of the station again.

"That went well," Tom Paris said from his boards.

"Yes," Janeway agreed. "I'm almost suspicious. Commander Chakotay, once we're within transporter

range, hail Secretary Nashi and bring him or her aboard. I'm going to look at a few more regulations. Mr.

Tuvok, what is the status of Zedrel's ship?"

"Unchanged. The tractor beam is holding steady."

"Captain." Ensign Harry Kim raised a hand for her attention. "There's an ... anomaly I think you'll want to

look at."

There's always something. Janeway crossed the bridge and mounted the short flight of stairs that led up

to the ops station. "What is it, Mr. Kim?"

Harry stepped aside to give her a better view of the console. "The planet has four continents. Sensors

can't read one of them."

"Can't read?" Janeway bent over the boards. "What do you mean? Why not?"

"As far as I can tell, there's some kind of energy wave pulsing around the shore." Kim's fingers danced

expertly across the panel, and the tiny screen conjured up an image of Chi. Like most M-class worlds, it

had oceans of a gentle sapphirine blue. Three of the land masses showed various shades of brown and

green. Preliminary readouts on atmospheric makeup, humidity, ozone levels, wind velocities, seismic

activity, ocean depth, gravity, polar ice density, and other data scrolled beside the image. One irregular

chunk of the planet was black. A pulse

of light skimmed steadily and swiftly around the outer edge. Another readout indicated the pulse's

frequency and strength.

"Microwave?" Janeway said in surprise.

"Confirmed," Tuvok said from his own station. "It appears to be some kind of microwave pulse emitted

by a series of orbiting satellites."

"And it's interfering with sensor readings and transporter locks," Harry put in. "For all practical purposes,

the fourth continent is invisible to us and the transporters."

"We could just look out the window," Paris said.

Kim ignored him and tapped the display again. The image backed away until the planet was a tiny dot.

Curtains of energy that reminded Janeway of Terran northern lights coruscated across the screen. "I'm

also reading higher-than-normal levels of background ionic radiation. Ion storms are definitely a regular

event around here. My best guess says the next one will hit within eight days."

"That is two days earlier than Lieutenant Torres estimated completion of repairs," Tuvok said.

"And we won't be able to count on the transporters if ionic radiation levels increase," Janeway murmured.

"Lovely. Mr. Tuvok, can that microwave pulse be used as a weapon against this ship?"

Tuvok checked his readings, his dark Vulcan features their usual impassive mask. "Doubtful, Captain.

The pulse would not even be able to penetrate Voyager's hull. Our shields will be sufficient."

Janeway gnawed her lower lip and continued to exami ne the ops station data. "So what are they keeping

down there?"

"Perhaps," Chakotay said, "we should ask Nashi. Or maybe we should bring Zedrel aboard and ask

him."

"I am reading something else of interest, Captain," Tuvok said from his own station. "It would appear the

Chiar have a stockpile of rhometric weapons."

Janeway stared at him. "Rhometric? What kind of idiots would keep rhometric weapons on their own

planet?" A volatile mix of compounds distinguished by a core of unstable dilithium, a rhometric reaction

could render vast areas of land uninhabitable for generations.

"Indeed," Tuvok said. "In any case, the weapons readings are accompanied by a supply of chemical

propellent, so I assume the weapons themselves are delivered by missile. They would pose little threat to

Voyager, though if one got through our shields, it would irradiate a large part of the ship."

"What are the chances of that happening, Commander?" Chakotay said.

"Negligible," Tuvok replied. "Even a weak phaser blast would destroy the missile, and a simple shield

would keep the radiation from affecting us. However, I felt it advisable to mention their presence."

"Noted," Janeway said as an alarm beeped softly on Tuvok's panel. She closed her eyes. "Now what,

Mr. Tuvok?"

"It appears," Tuvok replied, "that Engineer Zedrel has managed to repair his communications array. I am

detecting a faint audio signal being broadcast to the station."

"Can you read it?" Janeway asked, instantly suspicious.

In answer, the speakers came to life. The voices

were filled with static, but Janeway recognized Ze-drel and Nashi.

". . .fascinating people, Secretary," Zedrel was saying. "I would have found my way back never if it were

not for them. They are clearly far more advanced than we."

"We must be cautious, Engineer," Nashi admonished. "It would be a lie to say they do not frighten me,

even though they have done nothing aggressive. Thus far."

"Secretary," Zedrel's voice was pleading, "you must allow me to come on board with you. This is a

dream for me-the chance to meet an alien species and see from the inside their ship! They are a

captivating, fascinating people, and Captain Janeway seems to me trustworthy."

"You are not a diplomat, Engineer," Nashi countered. "She saved you, but she may have an ulterior

motive. I myself found her a pleasant person, if very strange to look at"- Chakotay raised an eyebrow at

Janeway, who shrugged-"but that means nothing. We must act with caution."

"I still want to come aboard. I think I have earned it."

Nashi sighed. "You have certainly paid enough, Engineer Zedrel. Very well. I will ask their Commander

Chakotay if this can be arranged." Nashi paused. "I am glad Captain Janeway referred to Chakotay as

'he.' Janeway immediately struck me as female, but this Chakotay was a mystery."

Tom Paris coughed wildly, and Harry Kim put a hand to his own mouth. Chakotay sighed.

"Monitor the rest of the conversation yourself, Mr.

Tuvok," Janeway said. "Let me know if anything else of interest turns up. I have more regulations to

read." She strode for her ready room, fighting to su-press a smile.

Commander Chakotay was striding for the transporter room when he almost ran into Seven of Nine as

she emerged from a side corridor. She was staring down at a padd instead of watching where she was

going. He caught her by the shoulders just before they would have collided, and her gaze snapped

upward. Chakotay found himself trying to puzzle out whether her eyes were more blue or gray.

Gray, he decided.

"My apologies, Commander," Seven said. "I was not paying attention."

"No harm done," Chakotay replied. He realized he was still holding her shoulders. He quickly dropped

his hands. "What are you working on? Must be pretty intense," he said to cover his consternation.

Seven tilted the padd closer to her chest, though Chakotay was hardly adept at reading upside-down. "It

is a new holodeck program."

They fell into step together, though Seven was careful not to let the padd display tip into Chakotay's field

of view. He was seized with a wild impulse to snatch it away.

"What's it about?" he asked.

Seven blanked the padd screen. "It is unimportant."

"It had your attention so riveted that you almost knocked me flat," Chakotay teased. "Come on- what's it

about?"

Seven gave him a long look. "It is an educational program."

"Who for? Naomi?"

"It is for me." Seven reactivated the padd and tapped at it as they walked. She kept her gaze down, as if

she were ... embarrassed? Chakotay had never thought of Seven as someone who got embarrassed.

Probably it was simple uncertainty.

"If it makes you uncomfortable to tell me about it," he said, "don't feel you have to-"

"It does not," Seven said, still looking at the padd. "It is just something I did not feel you would... take an

interest in."

'Try me," he said. "If it's boring, I'll let my face go all slack and disinterested so you'll know."

That actually elicited a small smile from her. "You are as persistent as Mr. Neelix."

"Did you tell him what it was?"

"No, though he was most insistent."

Chakotay laughed. "Fine, don't tell me, either. Keep it a secret. My feelings won't be hurt."

"Good." She continued to work.

"Uh, Seven? That was sarcasm."

She looked at him. "So your feelings will be hurt if I don't tell you."

"Maybe a little," he said airily. Then he made a mental pause. That sounded like something Tom Paris

would have said.

It was disconcerting.

"... comply."

He blinked. "What?"

"If my reticence would hurt your feelings," Seven said, "then I must comply. The holodeck pro-

gram is meant to help me... recapture my childhood."

Chakotay shook his head. "I don't understand."

"Every human has a childhood," Seven explained. "But I did not. I was assimilated by the Borg at age six,

years before my childhood would have come to an end. I am aware that my background sometimes

makes it... difficult to interact with people, and I have lately come to wonder if part of that is because-"

"-you had a deprived childhood?" Chakotay interjected.

"An interesting way to put it," she said, and frowned. "But, yes. I have been observing Naomi Wildman

as well as teaching her." Naomi Wildman was the daughter of Ensign Wildman and the only child on the

ship. "She has a certain ... exuberance that I have come to admire, and I suspect that certain human

behaviors stem from recalling this childish-"

"Childlike," Chakotay corrected amiably.

"Childlike behavior," Seven finished. "Tom Paris, for example."

Chakotay laughed again. "Want some help with it?"

"I had considered asking Naomi Wildman to join me," Seven admitted. "But I ultimately decided that it

might compromise our teacher-student relationship."

"I meant me, Seven," Chakotay said.

Seven stopped. "But you are not a child."

"No," Chakotay was forced to admit. "But I do remember what it was like. I might be able to give you a

few pointers the holodeck computer might miss."

"I would appreciate that," Seven said. "I have holodeck two reserved for nineteen hundred hours. Please

be on time." And she walked away.

Chakotay blinked, and realized he was standing outside the door to transporter room one.

Seven of Nine kept her face an impassive mask as she walked up the corridor. This was a new feeling,

and she wasn't sure what it meant. She found it oddly pleasing that Chakotay had asked to join her in

what she had intended as a private holoprogram. Pleasure, of course, was nothing new. It was pleasing

to sing a new aria with the Doctor. It was pleasing to focus the astrometric sensors on a rare type of

nebula and recover new data. It was even pleasing to sample certain of Neelix's recipes in the mess hall,

especially when he had created something new just for her. But this was pleasing in a different way. She

couldn't quite explain how it was different, and that bothered her.

As she continued her way to the turbolift, she found herself thinking more and more about her

conversation with Commander Chakotay. It felt as if she could still feel his hands on her shoulders when

he stopped her from colliding with him, and this, too, was pleasing. Everything was pleasing.

Perhaps she would have to find a different word.

The turbolift opened and Seven ordered it to take her to engineering. Now that Voyager had arrived at

Chi, the Captain would go through a certain amount of diplomatic maneuvering before the ship would be

allowed to dock with the Chiar space station, even though the Chiar had agreed to it. There would be

first meetings, speeches, and tours of the ship. A waste of time, in Seven's estimation. It would be so

much simpler and make more sense for Janeway to tell the Chiar that Voyager required repairs, and

since Janeway and the crew had saved their Engineer Zedrel, the Chiar owed a debt of obligation.

Experience, however, had taught Seven that this approach rarely worked for the Federation. They were

unwilling to take the steps necessary to ensure efficient compliance from the lesser civilizations.

Decks fled rapidly by as the turbolift dropped toward engineering. After the diplomacy, Lieutenant

Torres and the rest of the engineers would have to take stock of the station's facilities before beginning

repairs. Seven was sure she could find efficient ways to facilitate the process, though once again

experience had taught her that it would take a certain amount of (inefficient) diplomacy of her own to

make Torres understand that her ideas were superior.

Chakotay had known Torres longer than anyone else on the ship. Perhaps she would ask him about it.

Commander Chakotay stood at the base of the transporter pad. He had already caught Bethany Marija,

former Maquis and now transporter technician, hiding a smile as she stood at the controls. For a dreadful

moment he thought he had said or done something to let slip his recent thoughts about Seven. Then he

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CHAPTER1CAPTAINKATHRYNJANEWAYclunggrimlytothearmsofhercaptain'schairastheshipbuckedandshudderedbeneathher."Howmuchlonger?"shebellowedoverthenoise."Abouttenminutes!"EnsignHarryKimyelledbackfromthesciencestation.Thebridgelightsweredimmed,indicatinganongoingemergency."Shieldsatfifty-twopercent,"Tuvokre...

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