Title:   Colony
Author:  Jemima
Contact: jemimap@crosswinds.net
Series:  VOY
Part:	 3/20
Rating:	 PG
Codes:	 crew, J/C
Date:	 November 2000

Disclaimer:  Copyright has expired on the works of Alfred, Lord
	     Tennyson quoted herein.  Certain of the names below have
	     been trademarked by Paramount; be assured I am not
	     conducting trade with them.

*****

Section II: Sky

Part 3

*****

   Eye, to which all order festers, all things here are out of joint:
   Science moves, but slowly, slowly, creeping on from point to point: 


Chakotay, Janeway and Torres left the security detail, the Leigan
patients and a beacon at the improvised camp where the shuttle had set
down.  They took what engineers they had found back to Voyager,
leaving the rest to continue the search for survivors and Voyager's
scattered crew.

"The ship is in bad shape," Chakotay admitted to the Captain and Chief
Engineer.  They had gathered in the back corner of the shuttle, around
the replicator.  The Captain drank coffee while B'Elanna tore
voraciously at a broiled Karada leg.

"How bad?" B'Elanna asked around a mouthful of food.

"We have life support for the moment, and the shuttles, but that's
about it.  The Doctor is running off his mobile emitter.  Decks six
through eight have been evacuated due to a hull breach - we couldn't
spare the energy for internal force fields so we sealed them off
manually.  Communications and sensors are down.  Phasers are down.
We're out of photon torpedoes.  Shields are still down."

They seemed to be taking it well, so he continued, "We had to eject
the warp core.  I was hoping it would blow, but the aliens--"

"The Periti," the Captain contributed.

"--did something to disarm it when it got too close."

Trying to blow up another ship with a critical warp core - she hadn't
seen that one since the Kobiyashi Maru.  "I'm amazed you're alive,"
the Captain commented.

"They were gloating at us," he said, emotion building in his normally
impassive voice.  B'Elanna didn't like the sound of it - an old,
half-forgotten tone he had once reserved for Cardassians.  "They were
broadcasting purple descriptions of death by vacuum and towing our
warp core in with a tractor beam when a Leigan patrol intervened."

"Where is it now?"

"The core or the patrol?" he asked, but didn't wait for an answer.
"I sent another shuttle out for the warp core when I left.  The patrol
was destroyed.  The Periti blew themselves up and almost took us out
with them."

Who told *them* about the Kobiyashi Maru? she wondered.

*****

The warp core was anchored to the floor of the shuttlebay with
magnetic clamps and steel cords.  String and sealing wax, B'Elanna
thought, wondering how bad the damage was.  The core was a sensitive
piece of equipment not usually left on the floor or near magnets.  She
rushed toward it.

Chakotay, however, insisted that they both go to sickbay with the
other crewmen who'd weathered the attack on the surface.  B'Elanna
heard something about "regulations" and "returning from a war zone" as
they tore her away from the beached whale that had been her engine.

*****

     Comes a vapour from the margin, blackening over heath and holt,
     Cramming all the blast before it, in its breast a thunderbolt. 


B'Elanna looked healthy enough for the Doctor to pass her along to his
medic for minor dermal regeneration.  He mused on the Klingon tendency
to grow healthier under stress.

"This place looks like you let Chakotay drive," B'Elanna commented
bitterly to Tom.

"Don't blame me, I was unconscious.  How were things planetside?"

"Worse."

Tom looked askance at the medical tricorder - B'Elanna hadn't rated a
biobed, and they were all occupied at the moment anyway.  "What were
you doing down there - cleaning out a reactor?" he asked.

"No, just digging people out of the rubble.  Can I get back to
Engineering now?"

"Hold on a second.  Doc, check the Captain for theta radiation
poisoning."

"Confirmed," the hologram replied.  "It's a very mild case."

"We weren't near any power sources," the Captain protested, as the
Doctor injected a cure.

"Except the sky," B'Elanna replied.  "I think that planet is in
serious trouble.  Of course we won't know for sure until we get
sensors back online.  I need to get to Engineering."

"Hold still," Tom said, as he administered the hypospray of
counteragent.

"You're both released. Try to get some" - the Captain and Chief
Engineer were out the door before the EMH could complete his
prescription - "rest."

*****

The Captain listened as B'Elanna interrogated Carey.  "Why didn't you
bring the warp core down here?"

"It's no use to us - the dilithium was reduced to a powder by whatever
the Periti used to disarm it.  We don't have enough to replace it."

"We were about to visit the dilithium refinery..." B'Elanna said.

"You're lucky, then," Harry said.  He was in Engineering helping
with repairs.  "There's an awfully big crater where the refinery used
to be - big enough to be seen from space."

Once B'Elanna had gotten what she wanted from Carey, she headed for the
impulse drive, her face set with determination.  The Captain called
her off.  "Before you get under that, B'Elanna, I'd like to have a
short staff meeting."  

Once she'd dragged the unwilling engineer to the conference room, the
Captain began the meeting, saying, "It's nice to see you all again.
I believe the Engineering report is the most pressing."

"I'll make it short," Torres said in her usual abrupt manner.  "The
loss of antimatter containment was caused by the Periti antimatter
weaponry.  I may be able to repair the core, but we have no dilithium
to restart the reaction.  Nor does the planet beneath us have any
dilithium - it was all imported from other planets of the Leigus Union
and stored in the secure refinery facility, now a crater.  

"You know most systems are down.  I have made impulse engines a
priority, but life support is still shaky and I may not be able to
keep people on the impulse drive if the chewing gum falls off one of
the vital systems.

"I could also use more staff, especially some people trained in
spacewalk repairs to seal the hull breach manually."

When his turn came, Tom was equally matter-of-fact.  "Our orbit is
decaying.  We can stay out of the upper atmosphere for 2.3 more days.
However, if we want to land, we'll have to do it before then, since it
will be difficult to find a flat spot to coast her onto."  The islands
which passed for the planet's land masses were mountainous, volcanic
affairs.

*****

  Then her cheek was pale and thinner than should be for one so young,
  And her eyes on all my motions with a mute observance hung. 


She looked good in the dimness of the bridge's emergency lighting, Tom
thought - no longer the weary captain of a weary crew, but a tragic
heroine upon her lonely throne, ever vigilant--

"Is there something I can do for you, Mr. Paris?" the heroine asked.

"No, ma'am."  Tom turned his eyes from the sad queen to the dire helm
display.  They'd gotten a helpful push from a surviving Leigan patrol
ship, but their orbit was still erratic at best.

She felt weary.  There were still a few crewmen unaccounted for, but
hints from a Leigan official seemed to indicate that they were still
alive.  Don't push them, Chakotay had said, when she'd insisted
everyone be found and brought back to Voyager.  It had been days since
he had hinted that some of her crew might still want to give up on the
Alpha Quadrant to settle on war-torn Leigus Fifteenth, but she
couldn't quite believe that a few diehards would court death by
radiation poisoning to hang on to the lost paradise that was Leigus.

More worrisome than the deserters was the new Chakotay.  Had the last
seven years never happened?  He still wore the red and black, but his
eyes blazed like they had the first time he'd materialized on her
bridge.  He carried himself like there was a compression phaser rifle
strapped across his back again and Cardassians lurking nearby to use
it on.

Where was her old Starfleet Chakotay?  Most likely he had never been
there - it was always the Maquis who was loyal to her, the Maquis who
let her try all those harebrained schemes her late XO would have
nipped in the bud, the Maquis who stood by her when he should have
thrown her in the brig.  She made him wear the uniform and keep his
distance, but there were no pips on that man.

This had been a Maquis ship from the moment he had come aboard, she
chided herself, gearing up for a good mope.  The only Starfleet
regulation that had lasted these seven years was the one about not
getting involved with her first officer, and she'd made that one up
herself.  Sure, Picard had stomped on the Prime Directive and Kirk had
barely known what it was, but neither of them had violated it across a
whole new quadrant.  And with such pizzazz...

Then there was that alliance with the Borg.  Saving their sorry
cybernetic behinds from Species 8472 - whatever had come over her?
Couldn't she have waited until the menance of the galaxy was decimated
before attempting genocide on their enemies - two birds with one stone
and all that?

Oh, and that little incident with the Equinox - the only Federation
vessel in this God-forsaken quadrant, and she'd...well, that was all
best forgotten until the inquiry.  'Conduct unbecoming an officer'
they would call it - conduct unbecoming a Hirogen was more like it.
This was why Starfleet had so few female captains, not because they
were weak but because they were deadly when cornered.  She was only
protecting her crew, but the Board of Inquiry wouldn't see it that
way.  She could almost hear them now...

        "Did you forget about the auto-destruct, Captain Janeway?
        Your first officer's attempt to use the warp core as a hand
        grenade doesn't count."

        "No," she dreamed of answering them, "I know why there's a
        new Enterprise every few years.  What are they up to now, G?
        We didn't have Utopia Planetia around to churn out another
        Voyager whenever we got into philosophical difficulties, Your
        Honor.  And blowing up the ship wasn't my command style."

        "Ah, we've heard about your 'style'.  The Delta Quadrant will
        never be the same.  Let's get back to the charges, shall we?
        Genocide: Species 8472.  Genocide: the Borg Collective.
        Genocide: 53 photonic life forms caught in your helmsman's
        Captain Proton simulation.  Violation of the Prime Directive:
        I think it would be easier just to list the times you *didn't*
        violate it.  Don't you agree?"

There was a bright side to her impending court martial - maybe she'd
get to share a cell with Chakotay.  Now, how had he gotten back into
her thoughts?  She couldn't even concentrate on moping - it must be
the 18-hour shifts they were all pulling.  She turned her attention
back to the report on her PADD.

*****