The BLTS Archive- Old Friends
by Tricia Donovan(gaharay@reveuse.org.uk)

---

DISCLAIMER: Paramount owns Kashyk and all known species of the galaxy.
This story is mine. Please do not post anywhere else without my
express permission.

Asterisks enclosing a word indicate italics.

---

The face that appeared on the viewscreen was familiar.

"Kir!" exclaimed Kathryn Janeway.

Clearly there was nothing wrong, because the Brenari was smiling
broadly.

"You are about to enter our space, and my people and I should like to
extend our hospitality."

"*Your* space?"

"Yes, indeed, Captain. We have a new home. And it is all thanks to
you. We have much to tell you. We also have some property to return."

"Property?"

"Your shuttlecraft."

This was greeted by smiles all round on the bridge. Kathryn reflected
that it was the most heartening news they had had in a long while.

Some seven hours later, accompanied by Tuvok and Tom Paris, who was
piloting the shuttle, Kathryn left Voyager for the planet's surface.

As they came in to land, she could see a sizeable settlement beneath
them: buildings of honey-cloured stone set among lawns and gardens.

Tom put down the shuttle on a large green area. From the air it had
looked like grass, but they discovered on landing that it was a herb,
which, when crushed, released a faint spicy aroma into the warm air.
Kir and his wife, and the rest of the little group of refugees were
waiting for them. There was much excited talk, and hugging, and
shaking of hands.

"You will meet some more of our people later. For now, let us go
inside for refreshments."

Kir gestured to a nearby building, larger than the others Kathryn had
noticed, but built of the same pale gold stone and surrounded by
brightly-flowering shrubs.

Soon they were sitting in a comfortable room with long windows that
opened onto a paved terrace. Beyond, the gardens stretched to a tall
hedge. Kathryn could hear the gentle sound of a fountain.

A smiling Brenari woman served the visitors with cool drinks and a
sweet, grape-like fruit. Kathryn looked at her companions. Tom was
clearly enjoying himself, and Tuvok gave a small lift of the eyebrow
that she knew meant approval.

She turned to their host. "Kir, what did you mean when you said 'more
of our people'?"

"I said there was much to tell you. A new wormhole has opened up in
Devore space. Doubtless it cannot last for long, but our people are
managing to come through in quite large numbers. There are almost a
thousand living here on New Brenar."

As if the word Devore held no meaning for her, Kathryn asked "And the
original inhabitants? Surely a planet this beautiful couldn't have
been uninhabited."

"No indeed, but the indigenous population has proved most
accommodating."

She was silent as she pondered the changed fortunes of the man who sat
next to her.

"What are you thinking?" he asked.

"Don't you know?"

"My dear Captain, *no*. Emphatically no. We never read another's
thoughts without permission. Except when it is necessary."

"I have never been able to understand how it is possible *not* to."

"You ask that only because this faculty is strange to you. But,
consider your own species. There are certain impulses or urges that
you learn to control. It is rather like ..."

"Toilet training," said Tom Paris.

"Well, yes," laughed Kir. "That is not what I was going to say, but it
is the perfect analogy. Besides," he went on, turning back to Kathryn.
"If we read everyone's thoughts indiscriminately, the result would be
chaos, and ultimately madness."

He offered her some more of the sweet fruits.

"I should like you and your crew to spend some time with us, if you
are in agreement. We can never repay our debt to you, but we can at
least ensure that you and your crew enjoy a memorable Christmas. And
no, Captain, I did not read your mind. I heard Mr Paris telling my son
about the festival. I am guilty of no more than eavesdropping."

Kathryn said that she would have to consult with her senior officers,
but she had already made up her mind that they would take a week or so
to enjoy the delights of New Brenar. She had her own reasons for
wishing she were ten parsecs away, but would not allow her personal
sadness to deprive her crew of a much-needed holiday.

No one had yet mentioned Kashyk, and she did not want to be the first
to do so. She had not spoken of him to anyone (*would* not speak of
him) since that terrible parting, but had pressed the hurt tightly to
her, as if to staunch the bleeding of a wound. She had begun to think
of him less often, but from the moment Kir appeared on the viewscreen,
the memory of Kashyk's kiss, and his betrayal, was again uppermost in
her mind, and she bled afresh.

---

It was the afternoon of Christmas Day. The people of the city had
opened their homes to the crew of Voyager, and feasted them royally.
Now the wanderers were taking their ease in the pleasant warmth of the
twin suns of New Brenar. Kathryn walked alone in the gardens. The
effort of appearing cheerful had proved exhausting, and she was glad
of solitude.

Everything had been carefully planned to delight the senses. Flowers
and shrubs had been placed together so that not only their colour and
size complemented one another, but their scent. Small,
brightly-coloured creatures flew overhead. Kathryn did not know
whether they were insects or birds, or something quite else. Their
melodic cries provided the perfect counterpoint to the gentle
splashing of fountains.

Kathryn was reminded of an old tale from Earth's most ancient past:
The Garden of Eden.

But despite all the beauty that surrounded her, despite the warmth and
friendliness of her hosts, Kathryn's pleasure in what she saw was
filtered through her sorrow at the memory of the man who, she thought
ironically, was responsible for this place of delights.

"Kathryn, may I join you?"

Although he spoke softly, Kir's sudden appearance startled her.

"Forgive me," he said. "I had not meant to alarm you."

Kir did not seem to want to talk, for which she was grateful, and they
walked on in a silence broken only by his pointing out to her some new
enchantment.

"Let us sit awhile," he said, pointing to a bench. "Would you care for
something to drink? The bench also functions as a replicator. Perhaps
... coffee?"

"Mind-reader!" she said, half in laughter, half in astonishment.

"I know you, Kathryn," he laughed in his turn. "Would you believe," he
went on, while busying himself at a small console in the arm of the
bench, "that this was an arid wasteland when we arrived?" He handed
Kathryn a delicate cup. "Colombian."

"How ... of course! The shuttle replicator."

"I hope you don't mind. Some of us acquired a taste for coffee while
we were with you."

"Mind? How could I mind?" She inhaled the familiar aroma. "Besides,
since I've turned you into addicts, the least I can do is see that
you're well-supplied with the stuff."

"Kathryn," he said gently. "It has not escaped my notice that you are
... downcast. If you wish to tell me anything, you will find that I am
a good listener. Sometimes it is easier to tell a stranger matters you
would not speak of to anyone else."

"I cannot think of you as a stranger."

"Nor can I, in truth, think of you that way. But tomorrow you will be
gone, and we shall never meet again."

They were both silent, thinking of what this meeting, and their
imminent parting might mean.

Kathryn sipped her coffee. It was just the right strength and
temperature. These people were amazing. In many ways it would be hard
to say goodbye.

To prevent any further probing, however gentle, on his part, she
rushed into speech. "Kir, tell me more about all this." She gestured
at the garden in front of them.

He was silent for a moment. Then he began to speak, hesitantly at
first, as if he were not sure exactly how to explain. "You must
understand that we are a people who have ... we have a sense of the
beauty inherent in all things ... No, that is not exactly right. We
see the order, the pattern, if you will, underlying all things. It is
in that pattern that the beauty resides." He was silent again. "Once
you have a sense of the pattern, you can manipulate it. We saw the
possibilities in this desert place, where others saw only desolation."

Kathryn watched him, fascinated. She could sense some very strong
emotion in him, but what it was, she could not be sure.

"That is where we differ from the Devore. They seek to impose their
own patterns, without being aware what those patterns are. They are
like explorers searching for the rarest of rare blooms; crashing
through the forests so clumsily, that they do not even realize they
have crushed the blossom underfoot."

Kathryn thought of the child taken from her hiding-place.

"And speaking of the Devore, ... "

Here it was. The afternoon stilled. She thought, bizarrely, of a hand
holding a pebble.

Holding it above a deep and silent pool.

And now the hand was unclenching to let the stone ...

... drop.

" ... we have an old friend staying with us."

Such unremarkable words. And from the commonplace utterance, dropped
so casually into the afternoon stillness, the ripples began to spread
out in ever-widening circles.

---

She had not expected *this*.

"He's here?" She had known at once who he spoke of, but had not meant
to say that. Not, at any rate, in that strangled voice. Had meant only
to look at him in polite enquiry.

"He arrived here just before you. His shuttle had taken heavy damage
and was venting plasma. He beamed down seconds before it exploded. I
do not know who was the more ... surprised at his arrival among us."

Kathryn said nothing, but a part of her, the 'I' that observed
everything, wondered why Kir had hesitated before the word 'surprise.'

"He was quite unharmed."

Still she said nothing.

"He told us he was a fugitive from the Imperium. That he was under
sentence of death for aiding and abetting an alien ship to smuggle
telepaths. We did not know whether to believe him. Of course, your
arrival lends a degree of credence to his story. We had not known up
until then whether you had, indeed, survived."

Emotions, memories, dreams tumbled through Kathryn's mind, like a
raging river. One fact stood out clear like a jagged rock in the
middle of the current. He was here.

Somehow she managed to speak. Her voice sounded so controlled and easy
to her ears, that this in itself calmed her.

"You have not read his mind?"

"He will not allow us to do so. He is using mind-shielding techniques.
It does not help his case, but it *is* understandable; he has a
lifetime of conditioning to overcome."

"His case?"

"Inspector Kashyk has been guilty of the most terrible crimes against
our people. Against children." His voice trembled. "However, his
actions on board Voyager must be weighed against that. We were
prepared to grant him amnesty for all his past crimes in return for
what he did there. Your coming here was fortuitous. For him. I shall
recommend to our council that he be given asylum. Unless there is
anything you have to tell us?"

There was much she could say, but she did not. She thought of these
good people and what they had suffered under the Imperium. She knew
she had a duty to speak out, yet did she not also have a duty towards
Kashyk? Perhaps his apparent betrayal of her had been the only way in
which he could ensure her safety. He had, after all, allowed her and
her crew, even the telepaths, to go on their way unharmed. She had
heard him say that nothing would appear on record. Perhaps everything
else had been a charade for the benefit of his men.

There was a momentary flicker of joy at the thought that his betrayal
might, after all, have been an act of selflessness. But she had
grasped at this particular straw too often in the first days after it
happened, not to be well-rehearsed in the counter arguments.

It was not often that Kathryn Janeway manipulated her conscience until
its promptings coincided with her desire. Her course of action was, as
a rule, clear to her, and she followed it resolutely, whatever it cost
her.

"May I see him?" Only then would she be certain where her duty lay.
She pushed away the thought that she already *knew* where her duty
lay, and was merely following a selfish impulse.

"Of course. We can go now if you wish."

"Perhaps I could freshen up first."

It was not so much that she wanted to delay the encounter, but she
wanted to be out of the muggy heat, away from the too-bright blossoms
with their sickly scent, and, above all, away from this kind, wise
man.

Kir led her back to the building where they had been entertained when
they first landed, a week ago. Kathryn now knew it was the meeting
place of the High Council of New Brenar. He showed her to guest
quarters; like everything else she had seen here, they combined the
functional with the aesthetically pleasing.

"You may wish to lie down, Captain. It *is* rather hot today. And
please, help yourself from the replicator. I have programmed it to
recognize your voice. I shall return in one hour."

At the door he turned. "I hope this meeting will not be too painful
for you. It did not escape my notice on Voyager that you and the
Inspector had become ... close."

---

When Kir had gone, Kathryn began to pace up and down the small room.
She could feel the beginning of a headache, and knew if she relaxed it
would develop into a full-blown migraine. The last time she had seen
the Doctor he had been entertaining (if that was the word) the Brenari
with selections from Puccini. It was his holiday too, and she did not
wish to spoil it. It had been a long time since she had thought of him
as nothing more than a program.

If only she could talk to someone, but there was no one to give
impartial advice. Chakotay had very firm ideas where Inspector Kashyk
was concerned. Even the normally gentle Neelix would find it difficult
to make allowances for the man.

Tuvok was, perhaps, the most obvious choice of confidant, but Tuvok
had returned to Voyager. He seemed ... out of sorts, Kathryn thought.
He invariably found it difficult to unbend on occasions like this, but
she felt it was something more than that this time. She half wondered
if he was entering the Pon Farr.

Her hand hovered above her comm badge, but she did not want to discuss
the matter over an open comm link, and to beam up, covertly, to the
ship, for however a short a time, seemed like an insult to Kir and his
people.

'Oh, Kes, I wish you were here!" It was not the first time that
Kathryn had missed her wise counsel.

What would Kes have said to her? That only she could make the
decision? That she already knew the answer?

Kathryn felt energized by the memory of her friend. So much so, that
it occurred to her that she may have been linked telepathically,
however weakly or briefly, with Kes.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Instead of pacing frantically, she began to prepare herself for the
ordeal ahead. She discovered that the replicator held the full menu
from Voyager's database, and ordered, not coffee, but the herbal tea
Chakotay always recommended for stress.

She sipped slowly, looking out of the window at the gardens below. She
could see several of her crew, among them Tom and B'Elanna, who walked
slowly, hand in hand, heads close together. It was too easy to forget
that there was love and peace in the world. A cloud blotted out the
sun and the young couple looked up. Tom gestured towards the sky and
said something at which they both laughed.

Kathryn turned away from the window, and began to concentrate on
practical details. She would comb her hair, but she felt reluctant to
apply fresh lipstick or eyeshadow, uncomfortable with the idea that
she was making an effort to look good for Kashyk.

But Kathryn Janeway had never, except under the most difficult
circumstances, gone to any meeting other than 'bandbox fresh'. She
smiled at the quaint old expression her mother had always used without
understanding its origin. She would look good for herself alone.

By the time Kir came for her she was collected, and as calm as it was
possible to be. In a very short while she would know, beyond all
doubt, what her next course of action should be.

Kir showed her out of the room and a short way down the corridor to
another door.

"This is it?"

"What did you expect, Captain? A dank dungeon."

She was glad of the chance to laugh. "No, but surely a holding cell of
some kind, a force field ... "

"Inspector Kashyk has been confined to quarters, only since your
arrival. We were unsure how you would feel about meeting him."

Kathryn was once again struck by the extraordinary kindness and
sensitivity shown by the Brenari.

"Does Kashyk know that we're here?"

"No. We did not want to cause him any unnecessary distress. However,
he realizes that something out of the ordinary is happening, because
his freedom of movement has been curtailed. After today he will be
free to go wherever he wishes ... on the planet, that is. After all,
he is our guest. And what can he do? Where can he go?"

Kir keyed the entry code into the door panel and it slid open to
reveal a room almost identical to that which Kathryn had just left.
But this room appeared to be windowless.

Kathryn took a deep breath.

The sole occupant was pacing up and down, but turned at the sound of
their entry.

A look of horror came over his face. "Kathryn," he said, in a voice so
full of terror that she was immediately afraid herself."

Beside her Kir said "A visitor for you, Inspector." Then to Kathryn,
"Stay as long as you wish, Captain. I'm sure you have much to say to
each other."

He made as if to leave, but then added, in a conversational tone that
Kathryn found horribly chilling, "Ah, Inspector. You surmise
correctly: the Captain has told us all we wished to know."

---

She would realize the significance of Kir's parting remark later. For
now she could think only of Kashyk.

Gone was the confident, well-groomed man she remembered. His hair was
matted and dull, and he was unshaven. He had lost weight and his
clothes hung on him. But it was his eyes that held her. Red-rimmed and
deeply-shadowed, there was such a look of hopelessness in them that
she forgot all that had happened, and could think only of the
suffering she saw before her.

"Oh, what have they done to you?" she whispered.

"If you hadn't come ... have held on. Why?"

He was barely coherent. He stumbled into silence and his head sank
onto his chest.

Kathryn walked over to him and took him by the arm. He started and
looked around him in terror. Kathryn realized that he had been asleep
where he stood. She led him to the bed and made him sit down, then she
sat beside him.

He rubbed his eyes, then took a deep breath and rushed into speech,
like a man who must leap over a chasm and knows that to pause in his
run-up, or on the point of leaping is to be lost.

"I have not slept for a week, not for more than a few moments at a
time. I could have held on longer, but there is no point now. They do
not need to read *my* mind. They know everything. They know I betrayed
them."

And me, Kathryn thought, but did not say it.

"They will have their way now."

"Do you blame them?" All at once Kathryn was filled with a cold anger
as she thought of so many lives destroyed, so many atrocities
perpetrated against innocents by this man and others like him.

"A thousand minds, all concentrated against mine, night and day,
without a moment's respite. But I held on. There was always the hope
of escape. Or death."

He took a deep shuddering breath. "And now there is no hope of either.
Do I blame them? Ask them about the Hro D'gar."

His eyes became glassy and his head drooped.

"The Hro D'gar?"

" People ... of this planet. Sleep ..."

And he was instantly and profoundly asleep. Kathryn stood up and tried
to make him more comfortable. He did not stir as she placed a pillow
under his head, then lifted his feet from the floor and swung his legs
up onto the bed so that he was lying full length.

She pulled a chair close to the bed and sat down. For a few moments
she watched him as he slept, defenceless as a child. She smoothed the
tangled hair back from his forehead, the ridges unfamiliar beneath her
hand. She looked at the strong curve of the nose, and the mouth,
relaxed in sleep.

She leaned back in the chair. Kashyk's left hand was dangling over the
edge of the bed, and absently she took it in both of hers.

Kashyk's last words repeated themselves over an over in her mind, and,
as a sort of discordant counterpoint, Kir's assurance that the people
of this planet had been 'most accommodating'.

The picture she had formed only a few days ago was changing. Like a
kaleidoscope, it was composed of the same pieces, but the pattern now
taking shape was very different. Kathryn could not see the whole of it
yet, did not even know whether she was close to being right, but once
more she was afraid. Afraid for Kashyk, afraid for her crew, afraid
for herself.

She hit her comm badge. "Janeway to Voyager."

There was no reply. She realized that she had not expected one. The
time had come, she decided, to take charge of the situation.

She looked at Kashyk's hand, the capable palm and the strong
well-shaped fingers. Musician's fingers. Smiling sadly at the memory
the action evoked, she kissed his hand. Then she stood up and gave a
little tug to her uniform. Anyone on Voyager would have known that
Kathryn Janeway was going into battle.

Outside the door was a guard who snapped to attention when he saw her.

"I wish to see Kir. Immediately."

"Of course, Captain. If you would like to follow me. Kir is expecting
you."

"Yes, I've no doubt he is."

---

A smiling Kir greeted Kathryn at the door to his office.

"Captain, I trust your interview was satisfactory."

"Why have I been prevented from contacting my ship?"

"Prevented? My dear Captain, I can assure you that no one has done any
such thing. However, this planet does suffer from intermittent EM
disturbances. That would certainly account for any difficulties you
may have experienced. Perhaps you would care to try now."

Kathryn slapped her comm badge. "Janeway to Voyager."

"Tuvok here."

Kathryn sighed. "Tuvok, good to hear you. I wasn't able to get through
earlier."

As she said this she looked at Kir. He was working at his desk, and,
apparently, did not return her glance. Yet she knew that nothing she
did - or thought - escaped his notice.

"Captain, is there a problem of which I should be aware?"

"No Tuvok, no problem to speak of. I'd like you to start beaming up
the crew shortly. I'll have a word with Commander Chakotay, and the
two of you can liaise on this." She paused. "I'm in Kir's office."

"Understood. I shall keep this comm line open."

Kathryn felt a great sense of relief now she had spoken to Tuvok. But
why had she not told him openly of the danger she was in. Since Kir
knew everything anyway, what was the point of subterfuge? She looked
again at the Brenari leader. He was intent on the screen before him,
but she sensed that he was laughing at her.

"Janeway to Chakotay."

"Go ahead, Captain."

"Chakotay, I'm in Kir's office. I want you to start transporting our
people back to Voyager right away. I've spoken to Tuvok. He's waiting
to hear from you."

"Captain ... "

"It's all right, Chakotay. I shall be joining you shortly, as soon as
I have ... made my farewells. Wait for me at the beam-out site."

"Acknowledged."

"My dear Captain, I am sorry you have to leave. Can I not persuade you
and your crew to remain for the evening celebrations. I believe my
people have something special planned.

Kir smiled urbanely as he said these last words. Then he laughed, and
added "You are in no danger, no danger at all. Indeed, we can never
repay you for the service you have rendered us, both in rescuing us
from the Imperium, and today."

"You read my mind." Kathryn said flatly. "You assured me on our first
day here that you would never do that without permission."

"As far as I recall, I said that we would never do so *except when
necessary*."

"But why the charade? Once you knew that Kashyk was lying, why did you
need to bring us face to face in that way? That was nothing less than
an act of calculated cruelty."

"Do you think Inspector Kashyk merits any particular consideration?"

"But what of me? I risked my crew, my ship, my life to save you and
your people. You knew that I had ... that I *had* had feelings for
him. Is that how you chose to repay me?"

Kir made no answer, and Kathryn continued. "And what of the Hro
D'Gar?"

An expression, so brief that she could not catch it, flickered across
Kir's face. He seemed uncomfortable with the question, yet, when he
spoke, the polite smile was back in place.

"As I told you, they have been most accommodating."

"What have you done with them?"

"Done with them? Why nothing. Nothing except raise them up from the
filth in which they lived, cure the diseases that riddled their
bodies, clothe them, house them."

Kathryn did not speak.

"They were like animals: living off berries and plants and raw meat,
and barely able to grunt out a few words. Providence had given this
beautiful planet into their keeping, and what did they do to it?
Fouled it, Captain, as a bird fouls its own nest. They proved
themselves unworthy custodians."

"What have you done with them?"

"We have taught them how to use fire. How to farm the land. How to
build themselves homes. How to keep themselves clean. We have made
them aware of beauty. In short, we have civilized them."

"I do not see them here."

"They would not feel ... comfortable with this level of
sophistication. They have their own designated areas."

"Reservations."

"Such outrage, Captain. Commander Chakotay might find that a trifle
ironic, if the historical accounts I found in your database are
accurate."

"My people were guilty of great wrongs in the past, but we learned
from that. We have moved on."

"Really, Captain? And what is your Federation, but a reservation of
another sort, where he who does not conform to its ideals is outcast
and marginalized?"

"The Federation acknowledges and seeks to preserve the diversity of
its cultures." She was uncomfortably aware that many citizens, among
them a good proportion of her crew, had found the Federation wanting
in this respect."

"That sounds like a recruiting speech, Captain." He smiled thinly. "I
do not think the Maquis would altogether agree with you."

"I am not here to debate Federation ethics with you," Kathryn,
wondering if even her most fleeting thoughts were laid bare for this
man to read. "I doubt if there would be any point - we seem to be so
completely at variance on such matters as the rights of the
individual. It would appear that you have learned much from the
Devore."

At this Kir began to laugh, a harsh and hollow laugh that was
completely without mirth. Then he went through an elaborate pantomime
of wiping his eyes and shaking his head. The overstated performance
was the most horrible thing Kathryn had seen on this strange
afternoon.

The laughter stopped abruptly.

"*We* learn from the *Devore*? But, my dear Captain, it is *they* who
have learned from *us*. Although they proved, as students, to be more
willing than apt. What, in our hands was an instrument, if you will,
of great subtlety, they have fashioned into a crude blunt instrument."

Kathryn realized that his words did not surprise her.

"Perhaps, my dear Captain, you are developing telepathic powers," said
Kir, the false smile stretching his lips. "I must ask you to leave New
Brenar and our space immediately," he went on briskly, as if he had
tired of the game.

"Not without Kashyk."

"My dear Captain ... "

"Inspector Kashyk requested asylum on Voyager, and I granted that
request."

"That was nothing but a ruse. The man betrayed you."

"The conditions under which I grant asylum to an individual are a
matter for me, and me alone. If Kashyk has in any way failed to meet
those conditions, that is for me to deal with as I see fit, on my
ship, and according to Federation law."

Kathryn leaned across the desk that separated her from the Brenari and
said carefully "And, Kir, I am becoming accustomed to betrayal."

"If I refuse to allow him to leave? Captain, Starfleet is very far
away. You will hardly find any allies on the nearby planets. We have
already built up substantial trade networks with those of our
neighbours who have warp capability. As for those who have not ..."

He let the sentence hang.

"No, Captain, that would not do either," he said, as if she had spoken
aloud. "To reach the Imperium you would have to go back through our
space, and I'm afraid we could not allow you to do that. Besides, if I
am not mistaken, your ship has committed a serious offence under their
law."

"You have seen my ship's firepower ... "

"And you have seen how we were able to block the simplest transmission
from here to your ship. Your weapons are useless. And we have another
weapon at our command."

Kathryn was never fully able to describe what happened to her next.
The best she could say was that it was as if a powerful searchlight
had been turned on her mind. Pain seared through her and she
staggered, and grabbed at the desk for support.

Then Kir was holding her.

"Forgive me, Captain, but it *was* necessary. Now, if you have
recovered sufficiently, I shall take you to your transporter site.
Commander Chakotay is becoming a little anxious."

---

Chakotay had taken one look at his white-faced and trembling captain,
and had ordered her beamed directly to sickbay.

Kathryn had suffered no neural damage, but the Doctor had recommended
that she rest in her quarters for a few hours. It was, of course, a
pointless suggestion.

Now she sat with her senior officers in the briefing room. She felt
strangely detached from events. Doubtless this was one of the side
effects the Doctor had mentioned. She forced herself to concentrate on
what was being said.

"... had I believed, for one moment, that you or any of the crew were
in danger, I should not have returned to Voyager."

"Why *did* you leave the planet, Tuvok?"

A kind of blankness came over Tuvok's face, and from that and the look
of surprise on the faces of the others, Kathryn realized that he must
already have explained that.

"I'm sorry, Tuvok, but would you please go over it again."

"I left New Brenar because while, as you know, my first reaction to
the planet was favourable, as the hours progressed I received an
overwhelming impression of great sadness. I was unable to say from
where, or whom the emotion emanated; suffice it to say, that I was
unable to tolerate the sensation. I would add that Ensign Vorik was
similarly affected."

"The Hro D'Gar?"

"From what you have told us of their history, it would seem a logical
assumption."

"And neither you nor the other telepaths sensed anything ... unusual
from the Brenari during their stay on Voyager?

"Nothing. But in the light of what we now know, I would venture to
suggest that they were themselves using a form of mind-shielding."

Kathryn knew that something more was required of her, but, in the
dreamworld in which she was presently moving, speech seemed beyond
her. She was aware that Chakotay had begun speaking, and if she
concentrated hard she understood what was being said. She was even
able to interject the odd word.

When the meeting drew to a close, Kathryn agreed to return to her
quarters. She realized she had no choice: in her present condition she
would have been a liability on the bridge.

Sitting in her comfortable chair, the lights dimmed, there was nothing
between her and the thought of what Kashyk must be suffering. The
instant of pain she had experienced was only a thousandth of what the
Brenari community had inflicted on him. At that moment Kathryn was
profoundly grateful for the tranquillizing affects of Kir's attack on
her.

She had wanted action, and instead her officers had given her words as
they neatly countered all her arguments for mounting a rescue
operation. Tuvok had confirmed that their weapons were powerless
against the planet's force field. In any event, as the Capain's
experience had proved, the crew would be unable to stand against the
Brenari's less conventional weapons.

Seven had calculated that, even if they maintained an average speed of
warp six, it would take them about two years to return to the
Imperium. The Brenari had ordered Voyager to leave their space, so
retracing their course was no longer an option.

Someone, Kathryn thought it might have been Tom, pointed out that
Voyager was wanted for capital crimes under Devore law. Kathryn
recalled that Kir had said much the same thing.

Tuvok, she was sure it was Tuvok, added that if the Devore had found
the wormhole, they would either have sent warships through in pursuit
of fugitives, or have simply shut down the escape route. If the
latter, it would be logical to assume that, while they could deal with
small groups of unarmed Brenari, they, too, were powerless in the face
of an organized defence.

Kathryn had mumbled something about the Prime Directive. Every
Starfleet brat knew this by heart before the age of five. Since
arriving in the Delta Quadrant it had become almost a mantra to
Kathryn to remind her of who and what she was.

Tuvok, this time she knew it was Tuvok, said that the Prime Directive
did not apply in this case, because the Hro D'Gar culture had been
contaminated before Voyager's arrival, and nothing they could do would
alter that. To blame herself for the contamination was an emotional,
and erroneous, response on the Captain's part. True, it was the
Captain who had rescued Kir and his party, but had she not done so,
other Brenari would have found the second wormhole. There was no
logical reason to assume that Kir, and Kir alone, was responsible for
the Brenari aggression towards the Hro D'Gar.

Kathryn's comm badge chirped. "Sickbay to the Captain."

Kathryn sighed. The last thing she wanted was the doctor's cheerful
officiousness. She was in her quarters as he had ordered, but if he
now insisted on bed rest, she would be strongly inclined to deactivate
him for a few hours.

"What is it, Doctor? I'm following your orders."

"I'm very pleased to learn that you are ... for once. But I am calling
on another matter. There is something here in sickbay I think you
should see."

"Can't Chakotay deal with whatever it is?"

"I'm afraid this requires your presence, Captain."

"Very well."

Kathryn felt too tired to argue. She wished that the human mannerisms
the Doctor had adopted did not include her species' infinite capacity
for self-dramatization.

The Doctor met her at the entrance to sickbay and led her to one of
the bio-beds. The lighting in this area was subdued, but she had no
trouble in seeing the unconscious form of Inspector Kashyk.

"He materialized here about ten minutes ago."

"Oh," she said, almost unable to comprehend what she was seeing. She
moved closer to the bio-bed and tentatively stroked the ridged
forehead as she had done on New Brenar. It's contours felt familiar to
her fingers. "Is he going to be all right?"

"Inspector Kashyk is suffering from extreme exhaustion and a degree of
malnutrition, but beyond that there is no lasting *physical* damage.
Until he is conscious I shall be unable to carry out a full
psychological assessment."

"When do you expect him to regain consciousness?"

"I have sedated him for twenty-four hours to allow his system time to
recover. During that time I shall replace essential nutrients ..."

"But he *is* going to be all right?"

"As far as I can see, Captain. As you know, he will be receiving the
very best of care. Now I must insist that you return to your quarters.
Oh, before I forget, there is a message for you. You may take it in
here."

Kathryn went to the console and activated the screen.

Kir's face smiled blandly up at her.

"My dear Captain. How are you? None the worse for your ordeal I hope.
You will forgive me, but it was necessary to make a point. I am sorry
that we parted on less than amicable terms. I owe you an immense debt
I can never repay.

It occurred to me that I had not given you a Christmas present, and I
hope this will go some way to redressing that. I understand that the
custom is to gift wrap it, but I am sure you will see why I found it
impossible.

I wish you joy of it .. of him.

Kir out."

---

The End