CHAPTER 17
An entire continent away Seven of Nine stood at the terminal in her lab
transfixed by the simulation results on her screen. Her initial hypothesis had
been destroyed by the simulation results, but a different idea of how to
accomplish her goal had appeared out of the wreckage. She stared at the readouts,
her mind racing. Fingers danced over terminal contacts and her brow furrowed
slightly in frustration. Giving into it, she drew her left hand back, extended
her assimilation tubules and directly interfaced with the computer serving her
lab.
The research assistants assigned to her, while not exactly comfortable with
their resident genius utilizing her remaining Borg implants to interface with
their computers, were at least past the gasping and paralyzed-by-fear stage.
They had been working in the new lab for several weeks and so far had not been
disappointed by their leader. Seven of Nine was driven and her brilliance had
not been exaggerated. While she was not the warmest of superiors she did seem to
make an effort to be civil and that was more than some of the lead researchers
at the Institute could claim. But beyond that she remained an enigma to her
staff.
Her explanations of what they were attempting were complete and as detailed as
required. But no one in the lab had missed the haunted look that crept into her
eyes as she watched simulation after simulation fail. They couldn’t know that
the concepts they were now testing had taken root and been growing in her brain
since the first year she had been on Voyager. The slipstream drive on Arturis’
ship had been the spark. When they had safely returned to Voyager, she had
declared her intention of developing a version of slipstream drive that Voyager
could safely utilize. The designs and theories had sprung into her brain and she
had developed them as best she could. But on Voyager there was always the
concern that simulations would draw critical power from a primary system or that
using more than allotted CPU access would jeopardize another project critical to
the safety of ship and crew. That research would have drawn needed resources
away from the all-consuming focus of returning home.
And now, now that she had the laboratory and the time and the access and the
power and the freedom to test and expand her theories and ideas, now there was a
different danger. Now the Borg threatened. And Kathryn would lead the fight
against them. If Seven didn’t develop a working slipstream drive soon Kathryn
would be forced to go against the Borg at a critical disadvantage and would most
likely be killed. Kathryn had given her life back to her. Kathryn had showed her
how to feel, to function, to be free. Kathryn had shown her how to love and how
incredible it was to be loved. Now the fear of losing Kathryn drove her. The
mantra ‘hurry, hurry, hurry’ ran constantly through her mind. She could not,
would not lose Kathryn because she failed in her quest. She would design the
slipstream drive Kathryn required. She would protect her wife, her collective,
the best way she knew how. As Seven withdrew her tubules from the access port
the frown on her features eased.
“Reset the simulation and prepare to run it once more. This time set the
tolerance of the lattice array to no more than .6800 and lock out any phase
variances.”
“But, Dr. Hansen, won’t that force a cascade failure in the processor?” asked
one of her senior assistants.
“It would under normal circumstances, yes. But with the lattice array set to a
maximum tolerance of .67999… I believe we can avoid the cascade failure. Are we
reset?”
“Yes, ma’am, it’s ready to run again.”
“Begin the simulation.” All eyes in the lab fixed on the read outs flashing
across their screen. This time, as the compression ratios climbed, the lattice
array of the superprocessors absorbed the power fluctuations and continued
functioning as they had been designed to.
“Run time: five minutes. Power utilization nominal. Processing speed, 800 EHz…
875 EHz… 930 EHz… 980 EHz… Dr. Hansen, we’re approaching Zetta hertz speeds!”
“Continue the simulation,” Seven said firmly.
“Run time: seven minutes. Power utilization nominal. Processing speed…400 ZHz
and climbing!” The young researcher couldn’t keep the rising excitement out of
her voice.
Seven’s eyes never moved from the numbers flashing across her terminal.
“Verify that the power utilization curve is within acceptable parameters. Give
me constant temperature readouts and continue the simulation.” Her assistants
bent over their boards, fingers flying.
“Verifying; power utilization curve is .763 microvolts below projections! We’re
using less power than we expected!”
“Temperature holding steady at 22°C. That’s below standard room temperature!”
“Run time: nine minutes. Power utilization nominal. Processing speed…this can’t
be right!” The young woman’s face froze as she stared at the readouts of her
board.
“Your perceptions are irrelevant! Give me the data readouts from your board.”
“Processing speed….I’m reading 256 Yotta Hertz! That’s impossible! Nothing has
even worked at Zetta hertz speeds let alone Yotta hertz!”
Turning to another assistant Seven snapped, “Verify those speeds using secondary
protocols as well as primary protocols.”
Tight silence reigned in the lab until the second assistant spoke up in a
whisper. “The secondary protocols match the primary simulation results: our
processor is functionally working at over 250 YHz. We’ve just increased the
processing speed of our computers by a factor of three…” All eyes in the lab
turned to Seven as she stared at her board trying to find a flaw, any flaw. But
the longer she looked the more convinced she became: there were none. They had
done it. By incorporating a lattice array into power interfaces she had managed
to remove the final barrier to the processing speeds she needed. The lattices
kept the temperatures down and allowed the circuitry processing power to explode
exponentially. Standard cooling protocols would insure that the super-processor
would be fast enough.
Finally she looked up from her boards, a slow smile spreading over her face. “I
believe the breakthrough we have been looking for has been achieved. Your
efforts have been most acceptable. Tomorrow we will run this entire simulation
twice more. With a breakthrough of this magnitude results must be beyond
question.”
Glancing at the chronometer on the wall she shook her head slightly. “Much as I
would like to continue tonight, shut the simulation down and we will pick up
again in the morning. You have all earned an early night. Go out and enjoy
yourselves.” Talking excitedly among themselves, her assistants began stepping
down the simulation to close it as Seven walked into her office adjoining the
lab. She sat at her desk, made some rapid log entries in her laboratory journal
and stopped to consider what they had done.
With the increase in processing speed they had just demonstrated and with an
enhanced interface matrix she had some ideas about there was every indication
that she and her assistants could build a safe and functional slipstream drive.
The only factor that had ever limited slipstream travel was the processing
speeds of conventional computers. They were just too slow to compute phase
variances in the quantum field and transmit corrections to the deflector arrays
to maintain the slipstream corridors. Now that they had apparently tripled
conventional processing speed and were about to increase the interface matrix
tolerances there would be nothing physical stopping their construction of a
slipstream drive.
Theoretically, a quantum slipstream drive would be capable of speeds far in
excess of the Borg transwarp drives, a tactical advantage that would be hugely
valuable to Starfleet. Kathryn would have the advantage necessary to keep her as
safe as possible. Once they had designed the slipstream drive Seven had some
ideas about shields, armor and weapons that she would need to develop. Kathryn
deserved no less.
But there was so little time.
Hurry, hurry, hurry….
* * *
The walk to the transport center in Cambridge was cold, but Seven never noticed
as her mind continued to pore over and analyze their simulation results.
Controlling the harmonics in the lattice arrays had done the trick; the
processor was more than capable of handling the computations necessary to keep a
quantum slipstream corridor stable. The matrix enhancements for the interface
between the processor and the deflector array were important to maintain a
stable slipstream. Perhaps she could ask B’Elanna for help with them. Voyager’s
Chief Engineer was brilliant and would add critical knowledge to the design.
Seven decided to contact her the next day and ask for her help.
She began to block out the simulations and tests that would have to be run
before they could begin building a prototype drive. She made a mental note to
inform Dr. Pedersen of their find so that the Institute would be on top of the
developments. A quantum slipstream drive would have military applications which
would require the Institute work in conjunction with Starfleet.
Looking up she realized she was at the transport center. Stepping onto the pad
she stated firmly, “San Francisco, Russian Hill” and felt the tingle as the
transporter did its job. When she rematerialized on their neighborhood pad she
stepped off and began the uphill trek toward home. Seven was running a bit late;
perhaps Kathryn would be waiting for her. The thought warmed her as she walked
and caused a smile that stayed on her face as she keyed the entry code to the
Fremont Lane gate.
When she entered their house Seven heard soft jazz playing on the comm system
and followed the sound of quiet, slightly-off-key humming to her love. Janeway
was holding a glass of neat whiskey and staring out at the glittering vista of
city lights trailing down to San Francisco Bay. Seven came up behind her and
slipped her arms around the smaller woman drawing her in close.
“Hello, my love,” murmured Janeway with a soft smile, “How was your day?”
Both women relaxed into the embrace as Seven replied. “It was acceptable,
Kathryn. We made progress in our current project. I hope to have it completed
within a week. How was your day?”
Janeway sighed, “It’s going along like we thought it would. I haven’t heard one
plan or protocol from Starfleet that makes me think we’ll survive a Borg attack.
In fact, it seemed apparent this morning that even Admiral Quinn has been
overruled by the Federation President or the Council. He didn’t look at all
pleased with the discussion. I’m afraid we’re going to have to go ahead with our
plans.”
“Did you initiate them?”
“Somewhat. I didn’t contact our staff yet, but I asked Jean-Luc and Will to
dinner here tomorrow night. They’re bringing Bev Crusher and Deanna and I
thought I’d invite Admiral Pulaski and the EMH to join us. That way we can talk
to all the major players at the same time. If I’m going to commit mutiny I want
the best company possible.” Seven’s smile widened at the wry tone of Janeway’s
voice.
“I did some research, Kathryn, and technically what we are doing is called
‘barratry’. You are not staging an illegal uprising to take control of a
Federation vessel or facility; rather you are committing ‘an act of gross
misconduct which may not be in the best interests of the ship-owner’.”
“Wonderful. I’m committing barratry, not mutiny. I’m sure that will be a source
of great comfort to me in whatever penal colony we wind up.” The irony in
Janeway’s tone made Seven’s smile grow even wider.
“I do not wish to cook tonight, Kathryn. Shall we go out to dinner?”
“Whatever you want, darling. We’ll need to talk about tomorrow night and make
some plans whatever we do.”
“Very well. Would you like Chinese food?”
“Xinh Xao’s? You know I can’t resist their Chow Mei Fun.”
“Then Xinh Xao’s it is.”
Settling in at their table several minutes later Seven remarked on their good
fortune to live where they did. The neighborhood was filled with cafes, bistros,
gourmet shops, coffeehouses and eateries of all descriptions. It was never a
walk of more than ten or fifteen minutes to whatever cuisine you fancied. Seven
was enchanted with her new home and its locale, not to mention her new roommate.
They ordered and began a desultory conversation on no particular topics.
“Do you wish me to cook for dinner tomorrow, Kathryn? Given the state of my
research it might be difficult for me to break free early enough to do so.”
“Then let’s just have it catered, love. I’ll call and order something in the
morning. The caterers can either deliver the food or send the programming parms
to our replicator. Either way, no one will need to cook. That’s just simpler.
But remind me to open a few bottles of the Chateau Picard early enough to
breathe.”
“I will, Kathryn.”
“Is there any particular cuisine you’d like to serve? I don’t know everyone’s
preferences but most people enjoy Italian food. How about some seafood and
fettuccini in a white sauce?”
“I would prefer scallops in a white clam sauce. And it would be easier on
everyone if the pasta was penne rather than fettuccini. It is easier to eat and
not as inclined to drop onto your clothing. Perhaps a crisp green salad to start
and Italian ices for dessert? With cappuccino?” They were briefly interrupted as
their dinners were served.
“Your palette is amazing, love. I can’t believe it was less than six months ago
that you were still saying that taste was irrelevant and that you did not
require solid nutrition. That sounds like a perfect dinner. I’ll take care of
ordering it first thing in the morning. Now, tell me about your day. You said
that your research was acceptable. For most people, that means that they would
be jumping up and down for joy. What happened?”
“While examining the results of a failed simulation, I saw a pattern in the
cascade failure of the processor. By strengthening the lattice array and
reducing the harmonic amplitude by thirty-two percent we held the temperature
fluctuations to near zero, reduced power requirements by twenty-five percent and
increased the processing speed by a factor of three. Our processor was working
at slightly over 250 YHz when we stepped the simulation down.”
Janeway’s fork clattered unheeded to her plate as her jaw dropped. “250 YHz?
Seven, that’s impossible! There have never been recorded processing speeds in
the YHz range; in fact, the Klingons Lursa and B’Etor Duras hypothesized that
computers working in excess of ZHz speeds would significantly increase the
possibility of subspace rifts. Are you absolutely sure?”
“Yes Kathryn, we ran the simulation for lengthy amount of time. We will re-run
it again tomorrow, but the results I saw today indicate the processor works. I
am forming a team to reinforce the interface matrices between the processor and
deflector arrays, but I am confident that with B’Elanna’s help that enhancement
can be designed and implemented very quickly. Once the two are joined, we are
only construction time away from a working prototype of a quantum slipstream
drive.”
Janeway stared at her lover in awe. “My God, you’ve done it. In less than a
month you’ve overcome the obstacles Starfleet thought would never be overcome. A
quantum slipstream drive! How fast do you think it could go?”
“Hypothetically, Kathryn, twice the speed of a transwarp ship. But there are
still too many unknowns to be making predictions like that. I will notify Dr.
Pedersen in the morning of our results so that she can set up the communication
channels with Starfleet. I am sure that the TPG will wish to monitor our
simulations and verify our results as well. Please do not tell anyone of my
results until the Institute releases the information officially.”
“Of course, darling. Seven, you’ve done it! Let’s order champagne and
celebrate!” As Janeway turned in her chair to signal a waiter, Seven laid a
gentle hand on her arm to stop her.
“I would rather do something else, Kathryn.”
“What, darling?”
“I would prefer that we stop at the wine shop on the corner and purchase a
bottle of champagne on our way home. And that we drink it in bed.” Seven’s
optical array arched in question as she explained her plan.
Janeway didn’t bother to answer her, just signaled frantically for the check.
* * *
The next morning Seven stopped in at Dr. Pedersen’s office before opening her
lab. The director’s assistant was not in yet, but the director was and welcomed
Seven into her office with a wide smile. Indicating a conversation area at one
side of the spacious office, both women sat down.
“You’re in bright and early this morning. Can I get you some coffee or tea, Dr.
Hansen?”
Remembering the Doctor’s social lessons, Seven replied, “No, thank you. There
were some unusual results in my lab yesterday that I felt you should be made
aware of.”
She handed the director a PADD with the results of the final simulation and
settled back in her chair as the other woman began to read. She watched with
veiled amusement as Dr. Pedersen’s eyes slowly widened and began to scan back
and forth faster and faster as she tried to absorb the contents of the PADD.
“But… but…” she sputtered as her eyes flew up to lock with Seven’s. “Is this
even possible? Have you duplicated your simulation? Are you sure this isn’t a
one-time anomaly?”
“My assistants are setting the simulation up again this morning. We will run it
for the entire morning and then re-stage it again this afternoon. But the
results are clear: we have broken the YHz barrier. I will instruct another team
of researchers to begin developing enhancements to the interface matrices
between CPUs and deflector arrays. I would like to bring in a Starfleet engineer
to help with that enhancement. Once they are in place, and if our processing
speeds hold, we are ready to begin design of a prototype slipstream drive.”
“A month…less than a month. You’ve been here less than a month and you’ve
cracked the barriers to a slipstream drive…” Pedersen whispered in amazement.
Recovering with a small shake of her head she laughed out loud. “Dr. Hansen, I
suspect that the highlight of my curriculum vitae as director of the
MIT-Daystrom Institute will be the fact that I lured you here to join us. With
results like these I can be perfectly content with that. Please, would you
object to me joining you this morning? I haven’t been involved in research this
exciting in a long time and it would be…fun…to be there with you and your team.”
Seven considered her internal chronometer. “We should be ready to start our
simulation by 0715 hours. Please join us if you can.” She rose and extended her
hand to the director. “And thank you for ‘luring me’ to this Institute. If these
results hold and we do build a slipstream drive it will be because this facility
provided the research environment to do so.”
“I’ll be in your lab by 0710 hours. Count on it!” They shook hands and Seven
left for her laboratory area. Pedersen collapsed into her desk chair and
contemplated what she had just been told. MIT-Daystrom has just opened the door
to a working slipstream drive, not to mention untold weapons, navigational and
shielding technologies. And those are just the military applications. I’ll need
to contact Leah Brahms as soon as we get the interface matrices locked down.
Seven of Nine just beat the pants off the TPG and they had a year’s head start!
Her smile widened as she anticipated watching the morning’s simulation run.
Her anticipation was rewarded by 1115 hours. Seven’s team had run a full scale
simulation and their processor had steadily maintained the 256 YHz speed. Even
when they instituted power fluctuations the lattice arrays moderated the
fluctuations and kept the processor working without a hitch. They stepped the
simulation down and brought it to a halt with no apparent discrepancies in the
processing speeds. The team began a full set of diagnostics to ascertain if the
processor had sustained any damage from the long simulation. Dr. Pedersen asked
Seven to join her in the office. Once away from the excited research team she
faced her newest scientist with a smile.
“Well, you’ve convinced me. It works. I have no doubt that your simulation this
afternoon will produce the same results. I’ll start putting together an
independent beta-test team for the processor. We can be ready to go when you
return from your honeymoon. But I can’t see any reason why the processor won’t
pass with flying colors. You realize that I’ll have to bring Starfleet and TPG
on board once you finalize your results, don’t you?”
Seven nodded. “I knew they would have to be brought in fairly soon. It would be
extremely difficult to construct a working prototype without a ship and
Starfleet’s cooperation in that would greatly facilitate matters. But please do
not do so until we have our interfaces fully tested and implemented as well.
That way we can present them with not only the enhanced processor but the
necessary deflector linkage as a single design.”
Pedersen nodded in agreement. “That was my plan as well. Congratulations, Dr.
Hansen. I know I won’t be the last to offer them to you, but please let me be
the first.” After a few minutes’ additional discussion on the best way to handle
events with Starfleet Dr. Pedersen returned to her office and Seven to the lab.
Her team was poring over the results of the most recent simulation and
formulating ways to try and ‘break’ the new processor. The more variables they
could program in their simulations the less chance the beta test team would
succeed in finding a flaw in their processor. So deep was their focus on the
next simulation that none of them thought about lunch.
By 1330 hours they were ready to run the simulation again. Just as Seven gave
the order to power up the matrices the comm unit in her office chimed. She
instructed her assistants to cycle up the simulation as she moved to answer the
comm. The security officer in the main lobby of her building was hailing her.
“Dr. Hansen? There’s a Commander Shelby from Starfleet Headquarters here to see
you.”
Seven frowned at this news. She knew who Commander Shelby was, of course, but
could not help but wonder what she was doing on the wrong side of the country.
* * *
“I appreciate you seeing me without advance notice, Dr. Hansen.”
“I believe we agreed that you would call me Seven, Commander. How may I be of
assistance?”
Elizabeth Shelby took a deep breath. The very survival of the Federation could
hinge on how she phrased her request. But Seven of Nine, a former Borg drone
would not tolerate the typical political double-talk necessary in Starfleet
Headquarters. Only the unvarnished truth would suffice here.
“Seven, I cannot carry out my orders. It is not possible to configure the
planetary sensor arrays to provide adequate warning of Borg exit apertures. No
matter how minutely we configure the arrays, unless the exit aperture forms
within one thousand kilometers of a sensor pod, we will not have advance
warning. You and Captain Janeway implied that you knew how it could be done in
an…unconventional…manner. I need the specifications you were thinking of when
you and the captain visited me in my office. I need your help, Seven. The
Federation cannot stand against the Borg without it. I realize that now, even if
Starfleet doesn’t.”
Seven considered the woman seated next to her for a long moment. That she was
being forthright was a point in her favor; however, Seven was not knowledgeable
enough about Starfleet politics to comfortably deal with her. She wished that
Kathryn were with her at this moment.
“What would you have me do, Commander? I am considered a security risk by many
of the ranking officers of Starfleet. I cannot walk into Headquarters and demand
that they listen to me.”
“No, you can’t. But you can convince Captain Janeway that I’m not her enemy. We
can work together to protect the quadrant. You can give us the benefit of your
knowledge. You can do those things, can’t you? And I will do my level best to
show Starfleet how big a mistake they are making in cutting you out of the
process of defending Earth.”
What Commander Shelby proposed was precisely what she and Kathryn had tried to
suggest to Shelby earlier. That the officer was now willing to consider it gave
ample testimony to the degree of desperation she felt. Seven made her decision.
“Do you know the transport center at Lombard and Van Ness?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Meet me there this evening at 1740 hours. We’ll be attending a dinner party.”
“Uniforms required?”
“No, actually, civilian attire.”
Shelby stood to take her leave. “I’ll be there.”
* * *
When Seven stepped off the transport pad that night Shelby was waiting. The
Starfleet officer was dressed in a beautifully tailored black suit with a dove
gray silk t-shirt. Seven greeted her warmly and the women began the short walk
to the Janeway-Hansen residence. Shelby was impressed with the location of their
home and commented on it to Seven.
When she opened the front door and called out to Kathryn, Seven hoped that her
partner had calmed down from her initial response on their call that afternoon.
Janeway was not at all pleased that Shelby had tried to use Seven to get around
her, but Seven had been adamant that the Commander wanted only to work with
Janeway and not against her. She persuaded her stubborn Starfleet captain to
give Shelby a chance. As the two women walked through the foyer and into the
great room Kathryn came out from the kitchen to greet them. After a
slightly-longer-than-brief kiss for her fiancée Seven excused herself to change
for dinner and Janeway fixed Shelby and herself a drink. Cocktails in hand, they
moved toward the sofa in front of the fireplace just as the caterers finished
setting up. After a quick conference with Janeway they adjourned to their
hovervan where they could wait in comfort and she returned to the sofa and her
guest. Settling in with her drink she contemplated the Starfleet expert.
“Well, I was certainly surprised when Seven called me to tell me she’d invited
you tonight. Any particular reason you accosted her instead of me?”
Shelby carefully considered her answer. “Because I’d already alienated you by
sticking with Starfleet standards. I knew that Seven would understand that
nothing is more important to me than protecting Earth and the Terran Sector.
Even if I was foolish enough to ignore what I knew and opted to go along like I
always do. But this is too important. This isn’t just political; this is
survival for the human race. I can’t just ‘go along’ on this one. I have to
succeed even if it means I go against Starfleet. The alternative is too horrific
to contemplate. So I went to Seven to try and convince her to trust me. Once I
got here I planned to apologize to you and beg for your help.” She regarded
Janeway with a steady gaze.
“I see. Well, it worked. You’re here. Now tell me what’s really going on.”
“Would it be possible to wait for Seven to join us? I know I’m going to need her
help too and I’d just as soon brief you both at the same time.”
“In that case we’ll wait until dinner. This dinner party has a purpose; a
nefarious one by Starfleet standards. We’ll see where everybody stands and then
come clean together.”
“Who else is coming tonight?”
“Picard, Crusher, Riker, Troi, Pulaski and our EMH.”
Shelby nodded in understanding. “The entire command team. That makes sense. If
you’re going to accomplish anything you’ll need all of them working together.”
Janeway merely nodded in answer, her eyes swinging to the hallway as Seven
emerged from the bedroom dressed in raw silk slacks of light gray and a sapphire
silk shirt. Her heart skipped a beat as it always did when she saw her love in a
flattering outfit. As she swung her gaze back to Shelby she caught the other
woman staring openly at her fiancée.
Chuckling softly she called her on it, “Eyes front, Commander.” Shelby flushed
darkly and stammered an apology.
“I understand completely. How can I expect people to keep their eyes off her
when I can’t; they only see her occasionally and I live with her. But she is
something, isn’t she?”
Shelby looked her directly in the eye and stated emphatically, “You are an
extremely lucky woman, Captain. Not only to have made it back from the Delta
quadrant but to return with such an amazing partner. I envy you a great deal.”
“Frankly, Commander, I’m constantly surprised that half of Starfleet hasn’t shot
me to have a chance with her.”
Seven came out from behind the kitchen counter with a glass of her favorite
sparkling cider in hand and sat next to Janeway on the sofa.
“Have you two agreed to a truce or is a duel scheduled for dawn tomorrow?” she
asked with a quirk to the corner of her mouth and a cock of her optical array.
Their answering laughter relieved her unease with the situation.
“Commander Shelby has decided to join us in our sedition; excuse me, our
barratry. She will be part of the solution we decide on tonight.” Their heads
turned at the sound of the door chime. Janeway rose to answer it and invited
Jean-Luc, Bev, Will and Deanna inside. As she was turning to close the door
behind them Admiral Pulaski and the EMH hailed her from the cul-de-sac on their
way to the door.
When everyone was settled with a drink in the great room talk turned to
Voyager’s return from the Delta quadrant. Janeway and Seven gave their guests
the official Starfleet version of their final confrontation with the Borg. The
full details couldn’t come out until they had agreement from all the officers on
a course of action. Then they could explain why they were determined to go
against their orders, not until.
Half an hour later Janeway rose and indicated the way to the dining room. When
they had seated themselves, been served and the caterers returned to the kitchen
conversation around the table became more focused on the problems at hand. It
was obvious that Picard and Riker knew there was trouble brewing and had
explained as much to their companions: neither Deanna nor Beverly said much at
all, allowing the command officers freedom to discuss their orders. Janeway,
Picard, Riker and Shelby spoke frankly of their assignments and their feelings
of futility with Starfleet’s inability to ask for the help it so obviously
needed. Pulaski stayed silent but listened attentively. Seven remained silent
until finally, Janeway broached the subject at the center of their plans. When
she explained to Pulaski, Picard, Riker and Shelby of her intention to violate
her orders and utilize every bit of help Seven could supply the officers looked
at each other and three of them nodded their agreement.
“Count me in,” said Shelby immediately.
Picard seconded that opinion. “I agree with you, Kathryn. I believe it’s the
only way we can possibly succeed in our mission.”
Will chuckled and said simply, “I learned a long time ago that Jean-Luc was
usually right in his choice of action. I went along with him then and I’ll go
along now.”
All eyes turned to Admiral Pulaski. The distinguished looking woman sat deep in
thought for several long moments. Finally she looked up and replied, “It’s no
secret that I’ve disagreed with Starfleet on more than one occasion in my
career. To this moment, I’ve never deliberately violated my orders. But if what
I’m hearing is even half true, the battle plan Starfleet has designed will do
nothing but cause the cream of Starfleet to die needlessly. We did that in the
Dominion War and it didn’t work out too well for us. And it won’t do a damned
thing to save humanity from assimilation. So I guess this is that moment when I
deliberately defy my orders. I’m a physician: I won’t watch sentient beings die
or be assimilated if I can help it. I’m in. So what’s the plan?”
Seven joined in the conversation at this point, explaining in detail how they
had escaped the Borg armada in the transwarp hub and made it back to the Alpha
quadrant. When she began discussing the technology Admiral Janeway had brought
with her Picard frowned.
“Kathryn, I don’t know what your experiences with the Department of Temporal
Affairs have been, but mine have never been good. If Temporal Affairs or
Temporal Investigations seized that technology there’s no way we’ll ever get it
back even with Starfleet’s approval. They value the Temporal Prime Directive
above everything else – even humanity.”
Janeway’s wicked grin caused several eyebrows around the table to rise. “That’s
the beauty of our plan, Jean-Luc. We don’t need Temporal Affairs; we’ve got
Seven of Nine. She was the officer responsible for the installation of the
ablative hull armor and the configuration of the transphasic torpedoes.”
Her meaning dawned on Pulaski and Crusher at the same moment. “Of course!”
gasped Beverly turning to Jean-Luc, “Her cortical node! She’d got an eidetic
memory and a functional cortical node Jean-Luc! She’s already got the schematics
we’d need!”
Turning back to Seven she asked gently, “And you can download the schematics
without damaging yourself?”
“I can,” Seven replied with a smile.
At this point the EMH chimed in. “It will be an extensive download, but I’ll
monitor her while she does it and we’ll get her into her alcove immediately
afterward. That will recharge her cortical node and Borg systems and allow her
to recover from the effort. Believe me, she’s downloaded much larger data files
without harm.”
“So what all are we talking about here?” asked Riker.
“The complete schematics for the ablative hull armor and transphasic torpedoes,
the formula for the neurolytic pathogen that the Doctor came up with to break
the Queen’s control of the hive mind and a little something Seven came up with
all on her own: anti-Borg nanoprobes.”
“Anti-Borg nanoprobes? What are those?” demanded Pulaski.
“It is a modified nanoprobe that assimilates only other nanoprobes and renders
them inoperative. Essentially, when these nanoprobes strike any Borg technology
they immediately begin to destroy it,” supplied Seven. “If incorporated into the
particle beam of a phaser, for example, a shot at a drone will immediately begin
breaking down Borg exoplating and cybernetic limbs. If encapsulated in a photon
torpedo and fired at a Borg vessel the exterior armoring of the cube will begin
to disintegrate immediately. I must credit the Doctor with the idea; he was the
one that first modified nanoprobes to fight Species 8472. I merely took his idea
a step further.”
“And the Borg would never be able to adapt to them because the nanoprobes would
just go after the adapted shielding instead,” said Riker in awe. “My God, Seven,
that’s the perfect anti-Borg weapon!”
“Quite right, Will, but ultimately useless to us unless we can get within
shooting distance of the Borg. We cannot access their transwarp hubs from this
quadrant; there are only exit apertures here. Without propulsion equal to Borg
transwarp engines our weapons can be used only defensively. Once they’re in the
quadrant it will be too late,” added Picard.
Seven said evenly, “Captain Picard, my lab has had a major success within the
past forty-eight hours. I am confident that within weeks the Institute will be
contacting the TPG with preliminary schematics for a quantum slipstream drive.”
Deanna Troi spoke up for the first time. “Seven, you’ve only been at the
Institute for a couple of weeks. Are you saying that you’ve made the
breakthrough Starfleet has been seeking for years in just two weeks?”
“No, Counselor. I have been working on the problems of a quantum slipstream
drive for over three years. Now I have the facilities to test and refine the
theories I have formulated. Our success has been a long time in coming.”
“Seven, are you sure that the slipstream drive will be functional in time for us
to utilize it?” queried Picard gently.
“Yes, Captain. We have solved the processing speed problem. A working slipstream
drive requires only enhanced interfaces between the processor and the deflector
array to make it feasible. I have started one of my teams on those enhancements
while the other is retesting the processor speed results. So far we have had no
failures and our speeds have held steady in every simulation. I believe we can
bring the TPG into the development of a prototype for space trials within a
month.”
The realization that Starfleet might finally possess reliable faster-than-warp
propulsion caused excited discussion around the table. Ideas were flung into the
mix, debated and either accepted or discarded as unworkable. Finally, after
nearly an hour the talk wound down. Seven summoned the caterers to clear the
table and serve dessert and coffee.
“So are we all clear on which projects we’re working on?” asked Janeway when
they were alone again with their desserts. Affirmative nods from everyone around
the table answered her question.
“Needless to say we need to keep this quiet, but that doesn’t mean you can’t
bring trusted members of your senior staff on board. Just make sure they know
that it’s our careers if Starfleet gets wind of what we’re doing before we can
reveal it ‘legally’. The more people that know the greater the chances of being
found out. In the meantime our primary goal is to get Seven named to head the
fleet refit team. Bev and Deanna, if either of you think of some way to convince
Starfleet for heaven’s sake let us know ASAP. We’ll need all the help we can
get.”
“Does anybody know what the status of all this is? Has the Federation decided to
formally aid the Free Borg? Is there a treaty in the works? I think knowing
those answers would greatly help in figuring out what it is we need to
accomplish,” commented Deanna.
Admiral Pulaski spoke up. “I don’t know about a formal treaty; I assume we’ll
all hear about that when it comes out. But the EMH and I have been busy working
on the drones from Ronnik’s ship and I know that the official position of
Starfleet Medical is to give them all the aid and support we can. We’ve been
removing rejected implants in eight separate surgical suites around the clock
since they docked at McKinley and plans are to continue until we run out of
drones to work on.”
“The logs from Seven’s surgeries and Dr. Crusher’s notes from removing implants
after Captain Picard’s assimilation have provided a good knowledge base for our
physicians to work from. There are a lot of Starfleet medical officers gaining a
lot of experience in Borg implants and exoplating in a big hurry. But that can
only work to our advantage if they do attack,” commented the EMH.
Pulaski shifted in her chair and looked carefully around the group. “What I’m
about to tell you is classified. The Holo-Imaging Labs on Jupiter have been
ordered to provide holo-emitters for Ronnik’s ship and for Korok’s ship and to
download the complete program files for our Mark lV EMH. Ronnik’s ship will be
equipped with the Mark lV and it will carry the schematics for holo-emitters and
the program installation parameters back to Korok. They have been given
permission to equip every ship in Korok’s fleet with a Mark lV.”
“And the Mark lV is being programmed with all of my subroutines that deal with
the Borg. So it will be fully qualified to care for the drones in Korok’s
fleet,” added the EMH. This was news to the rest of the people at the table.
“I suppose I shouldn’t mention this since it’s only a rumor, but best to get
everything out in the open,” said Shelby. “You folks on Voyager probably didn’t
hear this, but rumor has it that Reg Barclay expanded on the work he did with
micro-wormholes that enabled you all to communicate from the Delta quadrant.
Scuttlebutt is that he’s developed a portable system that can be deployed from a
starship to create a wormhole, send a data stream to a pre-programmed location
and maintain the wormhole for twenty-four hours if necessary to receive an
answering data stream. And that the system is going back to the Delta quadrant
for Korok to use.”
Seven was fascinated at the idea. “A system that would create its own
micro-wormhole…of course, the destination location at Starfleet would remain
constant. So the wormhole would always appear at the same place, only its origin
would change…. Kathryn, this would enable your fleets to be in constant contact
with Starfleet from anywhere in the galaxy. And for Korok to communicate
immediately with Starfleet as he discovers new intelligence on the Borg.”
“So let’s take stock of what we’ve got so far,” said Janeway ticking items off
on her fingers. “Starfleet Medical is removing all the Borg systems it can from
the drones on Ronnik’s ship, all of Korok’s fleet will have EMH Mark lVs and at
least Korok will be able to communicate directly with Starfleet Command. That’s
a lot of technology being shared with an unknown group. I’d bet a treaty is in
the works that will recognize the Free Borg as an ally of the Federation. And if
Korok eventually manages to settle his forces on a planet they could actually
become Federation members.”
Picard nodded in agreement. “Enterprise has been on enough diplomatic missions
for me to recognize the activity. I think Kathryn is correct; there’s a treaty
being ironed out right now for Ronnik to carry back to Korok.”
“How firm is that rumor about Barclay’s communication system?” Riker asked
Shelby.
“I got a whiff of it about four months before Voyager returned but haven’t heard
anything more about it since.”
Riker turned to his wife. “You were close with Reg on Enterprise. How would you
like to be our Mata Hari and find out what he’s up to?”
“Mata Hari?” asked Deanna.
“Early 20th century Earth reference. Mata Hari was an exotic dancer and
courtesan accused, tried and executed for being a spy during the first global
conflict of the 20th century…World War l I believe they called it.”
Deanna raised an eyebrow at her husband. “She was executed and you want me to
behave like her?”
Riker grinned rakishly and replied, “Well, we’d expect you to be better at it
than she was.”
“Better at being an exotic dancer or a courtesan?” asked Seven innocently.
Riker flushed crimson as the table dissolved in laughter. Deanna elbowed him
sharply in the ribs and joined in the laughter.
“Believe me, if any of you have ever dealt with Reg you’ll know how funny that
really is. The poor man is incapable of keeping a secret with me. Trust me, if I
ask him more than once he’ll tell me everything. I believe I’ll pay a visit to
an old shipmate before we head back out.”
“Well then, there’s only one more thing we need to discuss before we can be
social. How do we communicate securely?” asked Janeway.
“I have an idea about that,” said Picard, explaining how to encode a message in
an innocent looking written communication.
“All right then, send those memos and communiqués to my aide, Ensign Ethan
Radcliffe. Use the words “Upcoming Visit” in the subject line. That will alert
him that there’s more to the message than just the text. We’ll use Ethan as our
clearing house.”
“Are you sure you want to involve your aide in this, Kathryn?”
“Ethan’s young, no question, but he’s going to need to learn that sometimes
there are issues bigger than politics and that we all have a greater duty than
may sometimes be apparent in our orders. Besides, he’s fiercely loyal and he’ll
be crushed if he finds out what’s going on and that he wasn’t included. He’ll
love it. Agreed?”
Once that last issue was settled Janeway and Seven and their guests adjourned to
the great room for more coffee and conversation. The caterers cleared the dining
room and quietly left while Janeway served brandy or Bailey’s to go with the
coffee. Several loose ends were tied up and the conversation turned to the
upcoming wedding.
“So when are you two leaving for Indiana?” asked Beverly.
“We’ll be in our offices two more days – through Friday – spend the weekend here
and go to Indiana at the beginning of next week. There are get-togethers planned
for most of the week with various old friends and family and it will just be
easier if we’re there instead of constantly beaming back and forth. Besides,”
Janeway said with a mock sigh, “who am I to deprive my kid sister her final
opportunities to harass me about having to go all the way to the Delta quadrant
to find somebody willing to marry me?”
Seven beamed at her fiancée as the group laughed. Shelby remained quiet during
the discussion of how everyone was getting to the wedding since she had not been
invited. Seven noticed that she was not participating in the conversation and
using the guise of bringing Shelby more coffee quietly asked her if she was
functioning adequately. Shelby smiled and merely said, “I was just listening to
the conversation, Seven. I’m not invited to the wedding; I don’t know the
captain well enough.”
Seven gave a small frown. “Do you have a dress uniform?”
“Of course. Every Starfleet officer has one.”
“Then I am inviting you to the wedding. 1800 hours next Saturday. Bloomington,
Indiana. I will expect to see you there.”
Unexpectedly touched by the Borg’s concern Shelby could only nod her acceptance
and smile.
“I’ll be there.”