NEW VS7.5 Disciples of Altruism [PG] (all) 7/9

[Christina]

Title: Disciples of Altruism
Author: Christina and Penny Proctor
Contact:seas...@yahoo.com
Series: VS7.5 story 38
Codes: P/T others
Rating: PG
Part: 7/9
Date Posted: 11/3/03

"Getting ambushed isn't recommended, either." She turned to Paris. "Get
ready, Tom. It doesn't matter which direction we go, just be prepared to
go quickly."

Without breaking his concentration, Paris nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

She was asking a lot of him, she knew. He had to stay focused on the
defensive maneuvers and lay in the calculations for transwarp. There
weren't many pilots who could handle that simultaneously, but she had
faith in Tom.

"Ha!" Ishtak shouted. "Weapons are down on the third attacker."

She nodded in satisfaction. "Good work. Auraan, if they aren't talking
to us, are they talking to each other?"

"Not on normal frequencies." Then her eyes lit with inspiration. "Maybe
there's something here... yes, there's definitely something. It's not
voice communication, but there's some kind of signal passing between the
ships on the low e-m bandwidths."

Voyager shook again, a little harder this time. Janeway slapped her comm
control. "B'Elanna?"

"Stand by, Captain. We need another minute."

"Two more ships approaching," Ishtak said, then added, "They're Vidiian."

On the viewscreen, she watched as two gleaming light cruisers, nearly
the size of Voyager, swooped in and began firing on the three alien
ships. After an initial return of fire, the three ships broke formation
and fled, streaking into warp drive.

"Stand down transwarp drive," Janeway ordered at once.

"We're being hailed," Auraan said. "Captain Fren of the Sodality Defense
Force."

"On screen." Janeway stood, and greeted the uniformed Vidiian who now
faced her. Although his face was lined with fine scars, he looked
healthy and fit. "I'm Captain Kathryn Janeway. Thank you, Captain. Your
timing was excellent."

"Happy to be of assistance," Fren replied. "Although you seemed to be
doing well enough."

"Do you know who they were?" she asked. "They never contacted us or gave
a reason for the attack."

He frowned. "Specifically, no. Generally, we know there is a band of
renegades operating in this sector. They're a conglomeration of
disaffected Kazon, Talaxian, and I'm sorry to add, Vidiians who are
little more than pirates and thieves. My guess is they were after your
transwarp technology."

She considered that for a moment. It was plausible, so plausible it was
almost too easy. Or was she just paranoid? In any case, it didn't
matter. The ship was damaged, and Vidiia was the closest port where
repairs could be made. She smiled her best diplomatic smile. "That
explains it, then."

"There may be more of them nearby," Fren said. "The Sodality suggests we
escort you the rest of the way. A convoy faces less danger of attack."

"A wise precaution. We accept your assistance." Then she added, "We will
need to begin slowly, though. I'd like to stay at Warp 2 until my
Engineer confirms the damage to the engines is repaired."

Fren nodded. "Of course. We'll follow your lead."

The screen went dark. "Were the engines damaged?" Paris asked. "I missed
that."

She smiled. "It wouldn't be prudent to push the ship until we have
ascertained all the damage." She turned to Auraan. "Did you get that e-m
signal?"

"Only about forty seconds."

"I want a report on it in an hour. If there's anything that confirms or
refutes Fren's pirate story, I want to know."

She didn't like this. She didn't like this at all. They were heading
into Vidiia with far too many unanswered questions.

Act Four

*Who*, Mark wondered, *who wrote the algorithm for love?* Surely not
Lewis Zimmerman, at least, not Lewis fifteen years ago. Back then, the
only love his legal father had understood was that of self. He knew for
a fact that nothing Lewis had created was responsible for the fact he
now stood here, in the public lobby of the President's Residence in
Vidalia City, hoping for a glimpse--just a glimpse--of Denara Pel.

How could a hologram feel a lump in his throat, sense his pulse racing
and his breath pant? There was no factual basis for these sensations,
and yet he felt them, fully and completely and undeniably. The mere
thought of seeing Denara again excited him in ways he could not explain.

Kes was to blame, he decided, as he walked with exaggerated casualness
to examine another piece of statuary. When he realized he was staring at
a nude woman, he recoiled for a moment, but then studied it with
professional detachment. The goddess--or so he surmised from the pose,
which was reminiscent of the famed statue of Nike on Earth--certainly
displayed divine endowments. Not even Seven ...

With a wrench of his thoughts, he moved on to the next statue, a
representation of some type of noble bird. Yes, he could lay place the
origin of his current state of mind directly with his private reunion
with Kes. She asked about Seven, and when he described her decision to
leave Voyager in general terms, her entire demeanor changed. *You loved
her very much*, she had said.

He couldn't deny it. His feelings for Seven were already known by those
closest to him, and who was closer than Kes? *I did*, he said, *but she
didn't feel the same way*.

*I'm sorry*, she replied, and for once, he was willing to accept the
sympathy. *But love is never futile, you know. If you learned to love
deeply once, you will again*.

*Did you?* he had wanted to ask, but didn't. He was afraid he knew the
answer, and it wasn't a happy one.

But ever since then, he had been thinking about Denara. She had been his
first lover, and his first love. Well, to be accurate, he had loved her
as much as his programming at the time allowed--but in his memory, there
was little difference between that and what he had felt for Seven. When
it came to emotions, 100% was 100%, no matter the total capacity.

And yes, he loved Kes with all his matrix, too. But it was different.
Kes was his teacher and his student, his friend and confidante. She had
taught him the basics of human interaction, and in that respect, she was
like his mother.

Eeew. Make that sister. Yes, he probably couldn't appreciate his sister
Haley nearly as much if he hadn't known Kes first.

A woman holding the hand of a small child jostled him, trying for a
closer look at the bird. He tried to find some special quality, noting
the beak and the eyes and the wingspan. It looked like a crow. Perhaps
it held some place in Vidiian mythology.

He began to walk to the next statue when he saw her, coming down one of
the five marble corridors that led to the public lobby. Denara. She wore
a simple suit of mocha brown with a white blouse underneath, but it set
off her coloring. Her hair had grown back thick and long, and at a
distance, her face appeared free of scars.

He forgot to maintain the appearance of breathing. She was beautiful.

She didn't notice him as she walked purposefully across the lobby, and
he didn't want to disturb her. The conference was about to begin, and
she surely had more important things on her mind than him.

But then she slowed and looked around, as if suddenly uncertain of her
surroundings. One hand pressed against her temple, a universal sign of a
headache. Then she walked slowly to one of the benches lining the wall
and sat down.

If she hadn't looked so forlorn, he would have left her alone. He had
promised Captain Janeway he wouldn't disturb her before the conference.
But she seemed vulnerable and in need of support.

He had no idea how she felt about him. It was likely he was a pleasant
memory, at best. But as he watched her slump forward and massage her
forehead, he thought he had never seen anyone in as much need for a friend.

Without thinking any more about it, he walked over to her. She didn't
look up as he approached. "It can't be that bad," he said quietly.

Her head jerked up in surprise, and her mouth opened a bit. The sudden
light in her eyes was more than gratifying. "Schmullis! I mean, Dr.--oh,
I'm sorry, I don't remember."

"Zimmerman," he told her, holding out both hands. "But you can call me
Schmullis."

She grabbed his hands to pull herself up, and didn't let go when she
stood in front of him. Her face was only centimeters from his. "Oh," she
breathed, "you haven't changed."

"You have," he said honestly. "You're more beautiful than I remembered."

Her face flushed, and her eyes turned to the floor. "You don't have to
say that. I know the truth."

"I told the truth," he said, squeezing her hands. "This is the real
you--not a hologram and not a Phage victim. How could you be anything
but beautiful?"

That caught her off guard, he realized. Her eyes widened in surprise and
then looked away, unable to face him. *Too much too fast*, he thought,
and deliberately changed his tone to be light and cordial, but not
intimate. "So. You're an ambassador now."

"Yes." She relaxed visibly, and smiled. "For two whole days now. I never
expected this."

"You'll be wonderful." *Be careful*, he told himself. *She's got too
much on her mind as it is. Be her friend, but don't pressure her*. "I
shouldn't keep you. I know the conference starts soon."

"Yes, I've been meeting with President Dop all morning. We have to
convince the Federa--you--we aren't behind the strange things that have
happened." The light faded from her eyes and she gripped his hands so
tightly that a bone might have broken, had he been flesh and blood.
"Schmullis, I promise you, we weren't. We aren't."

"I believe you." And, somewhat to his surprise, he realized that he did.
Denara wasn't capable of a deception this passionate; she was honest to
her tiniest cell. "I'm sure Captain Janeway and Ambassador Diaza will, too."

She smiled, the tremulous gesture becoming more confident as he smiled
back. "I'm so glad to see you," she finally said. "Ever since I heard
Voyager was coming back, I've been hoping you were aboard."

His heart soared. That was exactly what it felt like. He couldn't
explain it, he just reveled in the feeling. "And I've been looking
forward to seeing you again." Still holding her hands, he added, "I know
you have to go. Why don't you call me when the conference is over? I can
come back then, and we can talk. Perhaps you can show me around. I've
never been to Vidiia before."

"I know," she said. Her eyes were shining again. "I'd like that."

They stood, neither moving nor speaking, for several seconds. Mark could
have remained like that longer, but the woman with the child walked by,
and the tot stumbled, grabbed Mark's leg, and righted himself. The
contact brought him back to reality. "Good. I'll wait for your call." He
dropped her hands and stepped back.

She smiled once more, her eyes taking him in. Then, without warning, she
pressed a kiss against his cheek. "Wish me luck," she whispered, and
then turned and hurried down the corridor.

"Good luck," he said softly, watching her disappear into the shadows.

***

The conference room in the Vidiian Official Residence, home and
workplace of the President, had seen better days. As the Federation and
Ocampan delegation waited for the Vidiians to arrive, Kathryn took the
opportunity to study her surroundings rather than stare down Diaza. The
Andorian had told her in no uncertain terms that he expected her to
defer to him in this session. Rather than indulge in a fruitless
argument, she had said nothing.

But if he thought she was going to let the Vidiians--or anyone
else--side--step the issues, he was mistaken.

So, she sat quietly and tried to determine what clues to the Vidiian
mind might be found in the walls and furniture. At first blush, the room
seemed exquisite. The high ceiling was coffered with gleaming dark wood
inlaid with what appeared to be mother-of-pearl. Four large windows
reached almost to the ceiling, ending in palladium arches and providing
a view of Vidalia City in every direction. The walls were covered in
pale green jacquard silk, broken by crown molding in gleaming dark wood
and decorated with oil paintings in elaborate frames. The conference
table and chairs were carved from the same dark wood and upholstered
with the same jacquard silk. It spoke of opulence and age.

Especially age, she realized. On closer inspection, the table--although
highly polished--was nicked and scratched in many places. So were the
arms of her chair. The cushion of the chair next to her sported two
shades of green, the original color and an area faded by exposure to the
sun. The room was clean and well-kept, but it had been a very long time
since it had been refurbished.

She was pondering the implications of this when the double doors opened,
and three people walked in. She recognized President Dop and Denara Pel,
but the identity of the third was a mystery to her. Clearly approaching
middle age, the man carried himself with an aura of confidence that
almost eclipsed the presence of the President. Taking her cue from
Diaza, Kathryn stood.

"My apologies for keeping you waiting," President Dop said to them. "We
were waiting for a last bit of data." He placed his palms together and
bowed at the waist.

Diaza mimicked the gesture. "There is no need to apologize, Mr.
President. We have not been waiting long. May I introduce our delegation?"

"Please do."

"First, the representatives of the Ocampan people--Councilor Vestris,
Councilor Mairel and...Kes."

Vestris glanced briefly at Diaza with barely concealed annoyance. "Kes
is our most respected advisor, Mr. President. She may not have title,
but only because she rejects every one we suggest."

Dop bowed again, directing the gesture to Kes alone. "So I understand. I
am honored to see you again."

Kes smiled warmly. "The honor is mine." She was looking well today,
Kathryn thought. She had spent a great deal of her time on Voyager
resting, and often Kathryn had feared she had taken on too much for one
of her advanced years. At the moment, though, Kes appeared strong and
healthy.

"Our Federation delegation includes my attaché, Commander Daeja Thev,"
Diaza continued, "Captain Geordi La Forge, commanding the Odyssey, and
Captain Kathryn Janeway, commanding Voyager."

Dop acknowledged each of them with a nod. "I had understood that Captain
Janeway also served as fleet commander for this expedition."

She smiled. "You are correct, Mr. President." She found that she liked
Dop. With his somewhat thinning white hair, Phage-scarred face and
slender build, he was as far from threatening as one could imagine. He
had once been a professor, she recalled, and she could easily picture
him as a Vidiian Mr. Chips.

"Allow me to introduce my colleagues." He gestured first to his left. "I
believe some of you already know Ambassador Dr. Denara Pel. She is a
physician by profession and inclination, but has generously agreed to
represent her people in this important assignment."

It had been a decade since Kathryn had seen Dr. Pel, but the time had
been good to her. Although she had been ravaged by the Phage when she
left Voyager, only a few fine scars were left to attest to it. Her dark
hair was fully regrown and long, although streaked ever so lightly with
silver. She was, perhaps, too thin, and she looked nervous. "It's good
to see you again, Dr. Pel," she said, earning a glare from Diaza. "I
never had the chance to thank you for your assistance when Chakotay and
I were ill."

Denara's smile was quick and genuine. "I was glad to help, Captain. It
was the least I could do. And Kes, it's good to see you again."

Kes nodded. "And you."

President Dop turned to his right. "None of you will have met Mupano
Tar, one of our leading citizens. Like Kes, he has no title because he
has declined to accept one--yet. I have asked him to join us today, for
reasons that will become clear as we talk." With both hands, he
indicated the table. "Shall we begin?"

Everyone took a seat. Kathryn made certain she was sitting between Kes
and La Forge, and directly across from Daeja Thev. She wanted to be able
to see her old friend's reaction to events.

"I would like to begin," President Dop said, "by reiterating how much
this alliance, and the proposed new colony, means to Vidiia. And to me,
personally. This presents an opportunity we had not anticipated. It is a
chance for us to show that we have put the past behind us, and are again
ready to be partners with our galactic neighbors."

"And it is important to the Federation," Diaza replied. "We, too, hope
to put the past behind us and open a new chapter in relations between
the Alpha Quadrant and the Delta Quadrant."

Kathryn willed herself not to betray any response to this. But she found
herself wondering if she could convince Diaza to try diplomatic contact
with the Hirogen.

"And if I may speak for the Ocampans for a moment, it is of vital
importance to them." Diaza paused, and his face settled into a mask of
concern. "However, recent events have raised certain questions that must
be resolved before we can proceed."

"Indeed," President Dop said, leaping in. "I think we can save a great
deal of time, Ambassador Diaza, if we address those now, without going
through all the normal diplomatic discourse. Not that I don't appreciate
it," he added. "In its own way, it's a form of art. But I think we all
feel time is of the essence, and sometimes diplomacy simply takes too
long. Let's start at the top: you suspect that the Phage has not been
cured as we represented."

Diaza looked rather shocked, and his antennae curled straight backwards.
"Well, yes."

TBC