Chapter 4

Most of the other ships had long gone, but a few wished to make formal good-byes. The Lamorians in particular had a long, drawn-out ceremony involving Commander Chakotay. He asked for, and was granted, permission to retire to his quarters to complete the farewell ritual. Janeway had no desire to have her bridge viewscreen taken up for what could conceivably be hours while the Lamorians dotted every I and crossed every T.

While she waited for him to return, she received a transmission from Kelmar. Kim put it onscreen.

“It’s good to see you, Kelmar. I’m pleased your ship survived the last battle against Arkathi.”

“I understand he was never captured or killed,” said Kelmar. “A pity. He was against you from the beginning, Captain. We were alert to his treacherous nature early on, when he contacted me and tried to play the two of us against one another.”

This revelation disturbed Janeway. “I wish you had told me earlier, Kelmar. The Kuluuk might not have had to die.”

Kelmar did not seem disturbed by her comment. “You were aware of his nature even without my alerting you to it, Captain. Nothing I could have said would have accomplished anything to help the unfortunate Kuluuk. A man is not a criminal until he has committed a crime. And you must remember, we were not too certain of you early on in our travels, either. You had befriended the Nenlar, who had cause to hate us.”

He was smiling, as if he was pleased about something. Janeway hoped she didn’t know what it was. “I hope you are not taking pleasure in their deaths,” she said.

Kelmar laughed aloud. “Hardly,” he said, “as they are not dead.” He motioned, and both Ara and Torar came into Janeway’s vision.

She gaped. “You’re alive! Thank goodness! What happened?”

“Commander Kelmar transported us aboard the Nivvika in the very nick of time, putting his own ship at risk,” said Torar. “A truly noble gesture, considering that he knew who we were all along.”

Janeway’s confusion must have shown on her face, for the Nenlar and Kelmar all suddenly laughed. “Remember I told you that there were terrorists among the Nenlar?” said Kelmar. “Ara and Torar are close to the top of that list.”

“What?” exclaimed Janeway. “You two are terrorists?”

“Were,” said Ara. “Never again. And with any luck, soon there will be no such thing as Nenlar terrorists.”

“We are going to return to Nenlar space,” said Kelmar. “There’s a chance it might be dangerous, but when you have two of the highest-ranking members of the Nenlar terrorist groups vouching for you, you feel a bit safer.”

Genuinely shocked, Janeway stared at Ara and Torar. “What happened to your Nenlar timidity?”

“It is still there,” Ara reassured her. “We have to battle with it every day.”

“I never imagined you two would be the terrorists Kelmar spoke of,” said Janeway.

“If we and Kelmar can return to Nenlar space together,” said Torar,

“we can perhaps teach the rest of my people that there is nothing to fear anymore from the Iudka. I know it is difficult for you to comprehend, Captain, but we do not enjoy terrorist activities. It goes against everything in Nenlar nature. We did it only because we truly believed that we had no alternative. I know the key people in the organization well, and if they can be convinced that there is nothing to hate about the Iudka, we will all be only too happy to turn our attention to peaceful, less frightening pursuits.”

Janeway shook her head. It was almost inconceivable to her, but she had served in Starfleet long enough to know that not every species—in fact, very few—thought about and reacted to things the way humans did. She wanted to believe Ara and Torar, but they had lied to her, and the Iudka, already.

“Kelmar, I feel compelled to point out that you are one ship, heading into Nenlar space. You’ll be quite vulnerable. And while I would love to trust Ara and Torar, they have misrepresented themselves before.”

“Although Kelmar knew who we were, it was we who chose to reveal our identities first. We did not need to reveal ourselves at all, Captain,” Torar pointed out. “Nor did the Iudka need to risk themselves to come to our aid. The fact that they placed hundreds of Iudka lives in jeopardy in order to save two Nenlar lives was not lost upon us. It will not be lost upon my people, either. We fought to prevent wrongs. We will not continue to harm people who have expressed such a willingness to befriend us.”

“The past is the past.” Janeway was aware that she was gaping at Kelmar. He threw back his head and laughed heartily. “Oh, Captain, hearts will not be changed overnight. I know that. And I’m certain that even Torar and Ara will clash with us from time to time. But that is so insignificant, compared with the riches peace has to offer. I’m willing to risk it. Thank you, Captain. We wish you the best of luck on your own journey home.”

The Nivvika terminated the signal, and Janeway watched the huge Iudka vessel follow the receding ball of fire.

Only one ship now remained. “Hail them,” she told Kim.

The ugly, mottled visage of the Hirogen Alpha filled the screen. Janeway took a deep breath, determined to try one last time.

“Alpha, I would like to take this opportunity to once again urge you to utilize our holographic technology. I know you understand the benefits, and—”

“Yes,” said the Alpha, completely unexpectedly. “If you will transport it over, we will welcome it.”

Janeway and Chakotay exchanged pleased glances. “Kim, get on it.

Alpha, within a few moments you’ll be in receipt of the technology. May I ask why this sudden change of heart?”

“It was pathetically easy for prey to frame us,” grumbled the Alpha.

“Our reputation may strike fear into the hearts of prey, but it also a liability. I had not realized we were so….predictable. Had it not been for your ability to look more deeply into the situation, I am certain that we would have been killed. I have no wish to die for something I did not do, Captain. Perhaps if we learn to use this holographic technology for our hunts, we will not be so easy a target for others’ hatred.”

She could see it materialize in the far corner of the viewscreen. The Alpha glanced back, then returned his attention to Janeway.

“The transport of your holographic technology was successful,” he said. “We thank you for it.”

“I hope it will prove useful, and that you have many fine hunts with it,” said Janeway.

The Alpha inclined his head. “As I said, we also owe you thanks for coming to our defense when the rest of the caravan would have enjoyed opening fire upon us.”

“We believe in serving justice and in clearing the innocent,” said Janeway. “I’m only sorry that Sinimar Arkathi escaped without having to account for his actions.”

The Alpha shrugged. “It is of no importance to us. We will soon be in our own space. Again, thank you.”

Janeway settled into her chair and watched the Hirogen ship disappear as it leaped into warp. The turbolift door hissed open and Chakotay entered.

“The Lamorians are gone,” he said.

“You sound tired,” she observed.

He smiled slightly. “I am. I enjoy ceremony as much as the next person, but even I would go insane if I had to live in that culture. How did the rest of our farewells go?”

“Fine, I hope. I’d like to believe that the Nenlar and the Iudka are truly about to launch a new era of peace.”

“They all seemed like decent people. Let’s think positively.”

She nodded. “Bridge to engineering. Status?”

“Everything’s back to normal, Captain. Once the gateways had stopped draining our power, it’s as if it had never happened. We’re ready to head back into No Man’s Land.”

Janeway sighed. Their troubles were far from over. They were back where they had started, back to navigating, alone, a treacherous part of space in which—

“Astrometrics to bridge.” Seven’s voice broke Janeway’s dark musings.

“Go ahead, Seven. What’s the next challenge? Asteroid belt? Black hole?”

“That’s why I’m contacting you,” said Seven, and there was puzzlement—and irritation at that puzzlement—in her voice. “There are no more challenges.”

Janeway sat upright. “Explain.”

“The route which we charted several days ago is now completely clear. It is normal space ahead for as far as our sensors can determine. We could proceed safely at warp eight, according to my calculations.”

“I don’t understand,” said Janeway. “I saw what you showed us. Four asteroid belts, as I recall. Singularities, red giants, gravity waves….”

“Captain,” and now there was irritation in that smooth voice, “I know precisely what you saw, because I charted it. I was not incorrect. My readings were completely accurate. However, I repeat: None of the obstacles we had anticipated traversing is present. Nothing.”

“Some stellar phenomena are mobile,” said Chakotay, his voice hesitant in the shocked silence that followed Seven’s report.

“Not red giants. Not singularities,” said Janeway. And then she understood.

Q.

She wouldn’t let him send them home, but he obviously had wanted to find some way of thanking her for returning his child’s adored pet. So, if he could not finish this strange odyssey for them, he had at least cleared their path. It would certainly be a safer voyage now, and a shorter one. Silently, she thanked him.

And in her head, she heard an answering: You’re most welcome, Kathy.

“Captain?” Chakotay was looking at her, concerned.

She smiled then, an easy, relaxed, heartfelt smile such as she had not indulged in since they had learned about No Man’s Land.

“I say, let’s not look a gift horse in the mouth,” said Janeway. “Mr. Paris, plot us a new course with Seven’s updated data. Straight as the crow flies. Let’s shave a little time off this journey, shall we?”

Paris, too, looked at her with a confused expression in his blue eyes. Then he shrugged, grinned, and said, “Looks like we got a break for once,” then turned back to the conn.

“Something happened,” stated Chakotay. He leaned in toward her.

“Didn’t it?”

Grinning, she, too, leaned in to whisper conspiratorially, “Yes. Something did.”

Then, taking a playful enjoyment in Chakotay’s confusion, she reclined in her chair. She was going to enjoy the next several days, which promised to be uneventful.

Q? she thought.

Yes, Kathy?

You really ought to put a collar on that animal.

The Alpha stood in front of the viewscreen, his eyes on the peculiar fiery ball that Captain Janeway had told them would guide them home. Thus far, he had no reason to question her or the orb itself, which had told them things that had convinced him that it was to be trusted. Shortly after they had parted company with the human captain, they and their vessel had undergone a strange shimmering sensation, during which light-years had been traversed. According to their databanks, they were well on course for home and should arrive within a few hours.

It had been a bizarre encounter, with its share of difficult moments. Yet, as always, the Hirogen had emerged with honor and victory. They had kept their word to the prey, and while he had no problem acknowledging the role Janeway and her vessel had played in showing the Hirogen innocence, the outcome had never been in any real doubt as far as the Alpha was concerned.

Who in their right minds would have believed for a moment that the noble and proud Hirogen, master hunters, would stoop to slaughteringprey that collapsed and died of fright? The very concept was ludicrous. And even if the prey had decided otherwise, more of them would have died than Hirogen, if had come down to it.

Fortunately, it had not. The Alpha loved his life as much as any living creature, and while it would have been no shame to lose it in pursuit of prey, there was nothing to be gained in throwing it away either.

His gaze flickered from the stars to the piece of equipment Janeway had given him. He had let her think that she had convinced him of the rightness of this path, the path of nonkilling killing. It was simply easier, and the more she believed that she had tamed the Hirogen, the less carefully she would look at them when they left. So he had accepted the holographic technology she offered, had nodded at her smile of pleasure. And then he had had it beamed aboard and placed down without a second thought.

He would not use it to create substitute prey. No one in his crew could use it for that pathetic purpose. They would examine it, and might find other uses for it. He mused for a moment, realizing that this would be a superior way to set up an ambush for living prey. Perhaps Janeway had indeed given them something to add to the thrill of the hunt, though not in the least the way she had expected.

The Alpha turned completely around and gazed at the prize, the prize that had been snatched from space in that brief moment when all eyes had been on the rainbow-hued gateways, and none on a tiny escaping vessel.

Sinimar Arkathi hung from chains fastened about his wrists and ankles. He had put up quite a fight when they had beamed him aboard, attacking two fully armed Hirogen and fleeing through the ship for an astonishing twenty minutes before the Alpha himself had corralled him and defeated him with his bare hands. He was greatly pleased.

But now Arkathi was quiet, except for the occasional moan. The Gamma Hirogen stood stiffly at attention, awaiting his Alpha’s orders. The Alpha strode up to the prisoner, grabbed the ugly head in one big hand, and turned Arkathi’s face to his.

“You were worthy prey,” he stated. “You contrived a scheme that was nothing short of brilliant to ensure that the Hirogen would be blamed instead of you. With a single plot, you exonerated yourself, and diverted suspicion to an enemy you knew was a true threat. If you had picked a species other than the gutless Kuluuk, you might have gotten away with your scheme. But even the foolish prey know of the mighty Hirogen, know that we would never stoop to such pathetic prey. The relic of a Kuluuk would be nothing to us.”

At first, Arkathi’s eyes seemed dead, empty, without focus. The Alpha tasted disappointment. He had hoped that this prey would delight him to the very end. But as the Alpha spoke, Arkathi came back to life. Understanding stirred in those eyes, and then, most satisfactorily, fear.

He nodded in approval, and continued. “You erred, and that was your downfall. You underestimated us. I dare say that you are not underestimating us at the moment.”

Arkathi shook his head wildly. “Please,” he began, “you may have the rest of the crew. But let me go.”

The Alpha stared, then broke into loud laughter. “And amusing, too. Ah, Arkathi. It has been a glorious hunt. And the sweet irony is that what we will do with you would be considered a justice by the other prey. What a tale we will have to tell when we encounter other Hirogen. And you will be the evidence that the tale is true.”

He glanced over at the waiting, eager Beta, and nodded.

Arkathi began to scream.