Star Trek: Voyager - The Neverending Night
Chapter 6
15 Sep 2021Captain Janeway sipped on her lukewarm coffee. She had come into her ready room to clear her mind and to contemplate her next course of action. But her attention was not on her personal computer screen. Rather, it was fixated on the empty cup of red leaf tea that Valen had left behind on her desk. For some reason, when Janeway went to recycle it in the replicator, her fingers refused to even touch the cup, as if it had been tainted somehow.
The encounter with Valen had disturbed her. She knew that Valen couldn’t be trusted, but she never expected him to act against Voyager so quickly. Nor did she think he was a cold blooded murderer. Even though she had taken defensive precautions given the first attack on Voyager, her lapse in judgement still left it vulnerable to attack. With only a single conversation, Valen had figured her out completely and knew exactly what she was going to do. No doubt drawing from his experience in dealing with Starfleet captains back in the Alpha Quadrant.
Again, she was reminded about all the different races Voyager had encountered. Adapting to new circumstances, taking the immoral action if it meant survival. Again, Janeway wholeheartedly disagreed with Valen’s choice of tactics. Yet, she couldn’t deny that they had proven effective. The Krebor was now flush with supplies, while Voyager had to struggle on with the table scraps.
Despite all that however, something Valen had said kept rolling around in her mind.
‘Having encountered numerous ships here, I can say for certain that none of them are affable.’
The more she thought about that statement, the more she thought that it couldn’t possibly be true. After all, had Valen encountered every single ship in the Void? Doubtful. What was more likely was that it was Valen himself that was the unaffable one. Perhaps there were other crews in the Void like her own, trying to survive but also willing to cooperate to their mutual benefit under the right circumstances. She wondered if that particular hole in Valen’s thinking was actually his most exploitable weakness. She also wondered if that was actually Voyager’s greatest strength.
Inspired, Janeway accessed the Voyager library computer and pulled up a document that she hadn’t read in decades, since her days at Starfleet Academy. She read in peace for less than half an hour before she was interrupted by the door chime.
“Come in.” She said toward the door.
The doors parted for Commander Chakotay and Lieutenant Commander Tuvok. The two stepped in with Chakotay carrying a data PADD.
“An updated inventory of our supplies.” Chakotay said, handing the PADD to Janeway. “We were able to recover less than half of what was stolen before the Raider was destroyed.”
Janeway read the PADD while the two stood there in front of her. “It doesn’t take two of you to deliver a PADD.” She said without looking up. “What’s on your mind?”
Chakotay and Tuvok gave each other a look. As if both were inviting the other to deliver the bad news. Chakotay cleared his throat before speaking. “We want to be clear about what our policy is going to be moving forward.”
“You think we should start stealing for ourselves now, like Valen? Become thieves and killers, just like everyone else in the Void.” Janeway asked.
“Of course not. But he and his crew have managed to survive for nearly a year in here.” Chakotay said.
Tuvok continued the line of thought. “Logic suggests that we may have to be more opportunistic if we intend to survive.”
“I’ve been thinking about that myself.” Janeway said, turning her computer screen around for Chakotay and Tuvok to see.
“The Federation Charter?” Chakotay said, confused.
“Not a very practical document, admittedly. Nothing about surviving in a void.” Janeway started. “Rather, it’s a statement of principles. About how respect and mutual cooperation are superior to selfishness and division. That the whole is greater than the sum of its parts.”
“What exactly are you suggesting?” Chakotay asked.
Janeway continued. “Voyager can’t survive here alone. But if we form a temporary alliance with other ships in the Void, maybe we can pool our resources together to find a way to survive. Maybe even escape.”
“As you’ve pointed out, the people we’ve encountered in the Void are thieves and killers. Hardly the ideal candidates for an alliance.” Tuvok observed.
“I agree.” Janeway stated simply.
“Then who are we going to form an alliance with?” Chakotay asked.
“Anyone who agrees to play by our rules.” Janeway declared. “No killing, no stealing, and above all: no giving up.”
“Forgive me, Captain.” Tuvok said, expressing his doubts. “But why would anyone who has survived by killing and stealing suddenly agree to those terms?”
“We’ll offer to share our food and medical supplies. We’re also going to defend ships that are under attack by raiders.” Janeway paused for a moment. “They say it’s easy to be a saint in paradise. And although these principles were drafted halfway across the galaxy, I believe that they are in fact universal. And that if we do our job in sticking to them, they will do their job and keep us alive.”
Chakotay and Tuvok both gave each other another look of doubt. “Captain.” Chakotay started. “I think you should take another look at that PADD. Our food stores are empty. The theta radiation is continuing to drain our shields. And without more deuterium, our power reserves are almost gone. Voyager can limp on for another week, two at best, before we’re finished. Should the crew be ready to die for those principles?”
Janeway could see the reason in what Chakotay was saying. For a moment, just a moment, doubt crept into her mind. But then, she suddenly remembered a quote from her childhood hero: Leonardo Di Vinci.
‘I love those who can smile in trouble, who can gather strength from distress, and grow brave by reflection. ‘Tis the business of little minds to shrink, but they whose heart is firm, and whose conscience approves their conduct, will pursue their principles unto death.’
Janeway rose from her chair.
“You’re right.” She said, pacing around her desk. “Maybe we’ll only survive for two days instead of seven. Maybe we’ll just be handing away our supplies for nothing. Maybe no one will come to our aid. Or maybe if we share what we need instead of hoarding it, we’ll find others who will do the same. Maybe we’ll find people willing to combine technology, supplies and knowledge just as we are. Maybe we’ll find minds like our own, willing to work long and hard for the benefit of all and ultimately get the hell out of this place.” Janeway finished pacing and stood next to the pair. “We may lose a little weight gentlemen, but we won’t lose who we are.”
Captains Log, Stardate 52094.6: For the past several days, we’ve been making every effort to recruit new members into the alliance, but it hasn’t been easy. Our supplies and power reserves continue to drain. Hastened by the fact that we’ve been giving away food and medicine freely to those who request it. Still, I hold out the hope that if we stick to our principles, they in turn will come through for us in the end.
“Whenever a new ship gets pulled into the Void, they’re immediately attacked.” Janeway said.
She sat at the head of the conference room table, which had hosted at least a dozen alien crews over the past week. Flanking Janeway on either side was Commander Chakotay and Neelix, the Voyager appointed Ambassador to the Delta Quadrant. Across from them this time sat Captain Garon and two members of his own staff. Compared to most aliens Voyager had encountered in the Delta Quadrant, Garon actually looked quite human. His main distinguishing feature was the ridges on his nose and forehead, making him look almost Klingon. He and his aides wore very similar uniforms as well, colored entirely crimson except for a utility harness that extended around the shoulders and waist. A great deal of the captains she had met so far had either taken advantage of the food and medical supplies Voyager offered, or simply turned Janeway down outright. One of them just laughed at every suggestion Janeway had made, not even bothering to listen. Janeway hadn’t given up hope though. Captain Garon, though guarded, seemed more receptive than most at least.
Janeway continued her thought. “Instead of attacking the ship, you’d have to help defend it.”
“And how is that in my interest?” Garon asked bluntly.
Janeway gave a warm smile. “Because it would encourage them to join our alliance.”
“And if they refuse, then we raid them?” Garon asked.
Janeway had encountered this line of thinking before. Most captains who actually took Janeway’s words at face value listened, all the way up until she said they would cease all raiding. To ask them to give up the one thing that had kept them alive for so long in the Void was a difficult proposition to make it would seem. Janeway couldn’t say she blamed them.
“Everyone in the Alliance must agree not to launch unprovoked attacks against other ships.” Janeway said. “Including those who refuse to join us.”
“Then how are we supposed to get supplies?” Garon asked, diligently thinking through the potential consequences of joining the Alliance.
Chakotay leaned forward to speak. “The idea is to recruit new members, share technologies and resources. The hope is that together, we can make the little resources we already have extend further than they would have if we were alone.”
Garon considered that for a long while. Janeway actually thought for a moment he was about to join, until he asked his last question. “How many ships do you have in this Alliance?”
Janeway didn’t want to say the answer, but she had to give him the truth. “You’d be the first.”
Garon and his aides sighed all at once. Joining an already established organization was a much easier pill to swallow than to be the first member to help build it.
“Technically, Captain, that’s not correct.” Neelix said, breaking the silence. “I consider myself the first member of the Captain’s coalition. Four years ago, I offered her my services and the resources of my ship. In return she’s supported me, given me a place to call home and a crew to call family. Captain Janeway always stands by her word and she has never failed to help me when I needed it most.”
Always looking to help in any way he could, Neelix would do everything in his power to support Janeway. Even if it meant stretching the truth a little. Janeway appreciated those qualities in Neelix. The unerring optimism, the unwavering loyalty. The very fact that Neelix felt it necessary to go up to bat for Voyager time and time again, only emphasized the fact that she had made the right choice all those years ago in asking him to join her crew.
“It’s a noble idea, Captain.” Garon said. “But good intentions are like deuterium reserves. They tend to get lost in the Void.”
“All I ask is that you consider our proposal.” Janeway concluded.
“I will.” Garon said, rising from his seat.
“In the meantime, we’d like to offer you food and medical supplies.” Janeway added.
Garon looked at her askance. “And what do you expect in return?”
“Nothing.” She stated. “Consider it compliments of the Alliance.”
Just before Garon left, Janeway could have sworn she saw the slight look of approval cross his face. Janeway stood up to leave and Chakotay left to resume his station on the bridge.
“I tried.” Neelix said reluctantly.
“I know.” Janeway said, patting him on the shoulder.
Janeway made her way down to her quarters. Even though it had been a few days since her encounter with the warp core which almost killed her, she was still feeling the effects of it. She wasn’t sure if it was the radiation or the arithrazine treatments that was causing the migraine eating away at her temples. Whatever the cause, right now all she wanted to do was to read a book and take a very long sonic shower.
“Captain, there’s been a theft.” Seven of Nine said catching up to Janeway in the hallway.
“Oh?” Janeway’s curiosity was piqued. “What’s missing?”
“My phase compensator.” Seven replied. “No doubt it was stolen by one of your prospective members of the Alliance.”
“I’m afraid it wasn’t stolen.” Janeway said. “I gave it to the Nygeans. They needed it to repair their sensor array.”
The flippancy of Janeway’s decision irked Seven. “I presume that you obtained something equally valuable in return.”
“I think so.” Janeway said with a bit of levity. “We gained the goodwill of a potential ally.”
“They agreed to join?” Seven asked in surprise.
“Not yet.” Janeway replied.
Seven’s shoulders slumped down in frustration. “Captain.”
Janeway held her hand out in a placating gesture. “I know Seven, it’s not exactly the most efficient policy.” She paused for a moment to rub the sides of her forehead before continuing. “You think I’m being inefficient, Tuvok thinks I’m being illogical, the Doctor thinks I have a death wish.” Janeway threw her hands up in a gesture of acquiescence. “You could all be right.”
The pair stopped just outside of Janeway’s quarters. Before stepping inside, Janeway turned back to Seven to offer her one last thought. “But you know Seven, maybe the best way to get help is by giving it first. You should try it before writing it off.” She turned to go inside and Seven turned around to leave.
“Oh and Seven?” Janeway said after her.
Seven looked back at Janeway.
“I’m sorry I gave away your favorite phase compensator.” With that, Janeway retired to her quarters.
Normally, Seven would return to either the astrometrics lab to continue her analysis of the Void or cargo bay four to regenerate. Even though she had been freed from the Borg Collective and most of her implants had been removed, her primary method of rest and energy consumption was to step into her Borg alcove located in the cargo bay. The alcove provided a number of benefits to her, the most useful of which she found was the fact that she needed only four hours of regeneration per night instead of the normal eight required by humans. However, she didn’t feel particularly drained nor did she want to return to the astrometrics lab just yet. Instead, she decided to go to sickbay to check up on the creature she and B’Elanna had found on deck eleven.
The sickbay doors parted as Seven approached. When they opened, the characteristic swishing sound was replaced by opera music. It only took Seven a moment to identify the source of the piece as being Rigoletto Arias from the Italian composer Giuseppe Verdi written in the Earth year of 1851. One of the other benefits of being a former drone was that her mind contained the entire collective knowledge of the Borg, including that of Starfleet crewmembers which had been assimilated into the collective.
As Seven entered sickbay, she saw that the creature was still occupying the biobed on the far side of the room. However, instead of cowering in the corner as he used to do, he was seated comfortably on it. In fact as Seven approached, she noted that the creature seemed quite enthralled with the music that was now playing over the sickbay sound system. Not even taking note of her entry.
Seven stepped up to the Doctor who was reading off the main sickbay console. “How is he?” She inquired.
“Much better.” The Doctor said with elation. “He seemed to relax when he heard me humming an aria from Rigoletto, so I had the computer play the full orchestral version. Once he let me get close, I was able to treat him for his injuries and his theta radiation poisoning.” He paused to look at the creature, still lost in the sounds of the opera. “Fantome seems to be a music lover.”
“Fantome?” Seven said incredulously.
“After the Phantom of the Opera.” The Doctor elaborated. “A tormented character who was soothed by music.”
Seven could hardly believe it. “In four years, you haven’t chosen a name for yourself. Yet, you’ve given Fantome one in merely a few days.”
The Doctor gave a slight eye roll. “Choosing the right name for myself is extremely difficult. I am a complex individual.”
“Implying that Fantome isn’t?” Seven pointed out the contradiction in the Doctors statement.
“On the contrary.” The Doctor said. “I believe he’s quite intelligent, and his physiology is very sophisticated. Did you know that his epidermal layer is made entirely out of morphogenic tissue?”
“Morphogenic?” Seven asked.
The Doctor nodded. “Yes, it took me a few days to dig up anything related in our database. The closest thing I could find was research done by a Dr. Mora back in the Alpha Quadrant. The morphogenic cells allow him to mimic other forms of matter. In effect, transforming parts of himself into them, like an advanced camouflage of sorts.”
“Which is why our sensors didn’t detect him.” Seven added.
“Mhmm.” The Doctor agreed. He studied Fantome before giving a sigh. “I wish we could find a way to communicate with him. I suspect he’d have a lot to tell us.”
That statement sparked an idea in Seven’s mind. Fantome may not be able to speak, but if he could hear and was receptive to differential sounds, then perhaps there was a way to evoke a response from him. Seven paused the opera playback. Fantome immediately noticed the lack of music and for the first time took note of Seven’s presence.
The Doctor turned to her, annoyed. “What are you doing? We were enjoying that.”
“Exactly.” Seven said, still contemplating her next course of action. “He may not be able to speak, but he can hear.”
Seven picked up a medical instrument lying on the console in front of her. She held it up so that Fantome could clearly see it. She then instructed the computer to play a sustained A-sharp tone. Fantome looked confused. Seven set the instrument down and then picked up a nearby bowl. C-flat this time. At this point the Doctor caught on to what Seven was attempting. He observed both her and Fantome with fascination. Seven set the bowl down and played A-sharp again.
Fantome was hesitant at first. But after a moment, he made his way off the bed and onto the floor. He then crept forward cautiously until he was just on the other side of the console. He snatched up the medical instrument.
“He understands!” The Doctor proclaimed with jubilation.
Seven then played C-flat again. Fantome in turn responded by placing the medical instrument down and then holding the bowl up. Just then, Seven felt something she hadn’t really experienced before. Was it pride? Or perhaps triumph? As she was processing these new emotions, Fantome did something completely unexpected. He set down the bowl and held up the hypospray. Seven didn’t need telepathy to understand exactly what he was asking.
What is this?
Seven played a G tone this time and Fantome examined the hypospray with unbridled curiosity. Seven’s mind quickly started working through the possibilities for communication. A syntax could be developed around different tonal qualities. Harmonic frequency combinations could be used for verb conjugation perhaps. Flats and sharps could be used to indicate modifiers such as adverbs and adjectives. While simple notes strung together in rapid succession could be used to describe nouns. The beginnings of a language. It would take time though. Time that could be spent working in the astrometrics lab. But then, Seven recalled the suggestion that the Captain had just made to her, about giving help without expecting anything in return.
Seven regarded Fantome and decided right then that she was indeed going to help him.