Chapter Text
Celes Tal watched as Andreas Murphy—a man most of the crew of Voyager called "Serious Murphy" owing to there also being Ensign Michael Murphy in Stellar Cartography, who everyone called "Fun Murphy"—lifted the first of the Baxter boys out of the pool to swing him around and send him splashing off, giggling and laughing, and thought not for the first time that Voyager’s propensity for nicknames had missed the mark.
Andreas was fun. He just tended to keep it for when he wasn’t on duty.
The holodeck program was a favourite among the kids, and she decided it had been a good choice. The Janaran Falls of Betazed provided gorgeous clear water, the white noise of the waterfall, and—most centrally—a way to tire out the energetic Ocampa and half-Ocampa children of Voyager.
Also, if she was being honest with herself, she enjoyed watching Andreas Murphy in nothing but his yellow trunks.
"Do you think mom and aunt Veronica will find the ben-a-mite?" James said, and Celes turned her attention back to the children in her immediate area—James and Nen Taitt, the son and daughter of Lieutenant Zandra Taitt and Crewman Abol Tay. Like all the Ocampa, they were growing fast, and she thought they could pass for eight year olds, had they been Bajoran.
"That’s the plan," Celes said, with a bright smile for the young boy. They had their mother’s warm, brown complexion, though they both favoured their father’s dark, near-black eyes.
"And ben-a-mite ore will mean we can make the crystals," James said.
"Also the plan," Celes said, nodding.
James pushed off for a quick swim and a think after that.
Nen, for her part, was enjoying just floating on an inflatable ring, but Celes could tell she was paying attention to the conversation. She always paid attention. Nen already reminded Celes of when she’d reported directly to Lieutenant Taitt, and had always felt like she was being observed for any mistakes.
Which, in fairness, she’d made aplenty.
With Nen, though, it was more that Nen didn’t want to miss anything. That was a trait a lot of the Ocampa had. Their minds were incredible to Celes—they remembered everything—and if they found something interesting, it was more than remembering, it was like they instantly understood.
Frankly, she was jealous. Most of the galaxy seemed designed specifically for Celes Tal to not understand.
She smiled at her own thoughts, because they were an old habit and one she was still working on breaking. She did understand her place in the galaxy better these days—though she’d taken a bit of a hit when she’d felt something change inside at the end of last year, which Atara Ram said was being disconnected from the Prophets.
Given Celes hadn’t exactly thought she’d ever been connected to them in the first place, beyond what had happened on Nechan, she tried to take it in stride. Not having control of things and barely understanding them was her natural state, really, so the old habit served her mostly well.
But she was where she belonged now, and she reminded herself of that. She enjoyed working with Chief McMinn—Voyager’s quartermaster—keeping their stockpiles of food and other essentials organized, and working in the Mess Hall to ensure everyone had what they needed throughout their day was a genuinely enjoyable experience.
And she loved running the day care. Andreas loved time with the kids, too. So did Billy. Her two boyfriends had also discussed how someday, when they got home, that they might make a life of that. Billy thought she could run an orphanage, given how well she was running Voyager’s day care.
He had a lot of faith in her. They both did.
Celes thought of James’s question about the benamite again. The Undine had pointed them in the direction of a potential source of the incredibly rare ore, and if they found it, it would the first step in potentially creating benamite crystals.
And if they did that?
Quantum slipstream.
"That’s faster than warp, right?" Nen said, from her floating ring.
Celes turned, smiling but offering a slightly stern expression as well, and Nen gave her a sheepish look.
"Sorry," Nen said. "Your thought was loud."
"It’s okay," Celes said. "I know you don’t do it on purpose. But yes. Quantum slipstream is faster than warp. A lot faster."
Nen smiled. "Do you think if we get to Betazed we could go to the Jananran Falls with Aunt Veronica for real?"
Celes paused. She never lied to the kids, but she also knew the truth wasn’t always simple. The last Voyager had heard, Betazed had been occupied by an enemy—the Dominion—and it was possible the real Janaran Falls had been destroyed in the attack. It was possible Betazed still might not be free.
"I think that will depend on a lot of things," Celes said. "But if it’s possible, I’ll bet it could happen."
Nen nodded. Another roar of laugher and splashes came from the next pool over and she turned, aiming a borderline annoyed glance at the the three Baxter boys and Andreas.
"The boys are always so loud, and they always make each other louder," she said, then turned back to Celes. "Do you think it’s because they don’t have a sister?"
Celes laughed, leaning back in the water and considering the question. "I think it’s probably more that they like to be competitive with each other."
"Hm," Nen said. She closed her eyes and laid back in her inflatable ring. "I bet mom will find the ore."
"If anyone can," Celes said. "I’d bet on it, too."
*
"I have good news and I have bad news," Lieutenant Zandra Taitt said, sitting at the Science station of the Delta Flyer and frowning at the results scrolling by. Not for the first time, she considered how impressive the vessel was, especially the sensor acuity.
"I’m in an eat-my-dessert-first kind of mood," Lieutenant Commander Veronica Stadi said from where she worked the Conn. "Good news first."
"I’ve definitely got benamite ore readings on a class M planet with a bemonite mantle—I’d guess the benamite is beneath."
"Is the bad news that we’re going to keep saying bemonite when we mean benamite?" Lieutenant Sahreen Lan said from Ops.
"I believe the 'bad news' is the ion storm’s worsening conditions," Seven of Nine said. She had the engineering station, and Taitt fired a wan smile her way, though despite the situation she quite liked that Seven was taking part in the banter. They all knew full well the ion storm was trouble.
"Got it in one," Taitt said.
"I don’t think we’re going to be able to outrun it," Stadi said.
"Agreed," Seven of Nine said.
"Any chance we can let Voyager know we’re in for a rough ride?" Stadi said. Taitt thought it a measure of just how much she was pushing the Delta Flyer that she wasn’t checking herself. They were flying at the vessel’s top speed and then some, and had been since the ion storm had whipped itself up into being behind them and seemingly set itself an agenda to ruin their day.
"I’ve been trying," Lan said. "But the storm is between us and them."
Taitt pulled up a scan of local space, frowning. Lan was right. The storm had spread behind them like a cresting wave, and it blocked the direct line they needed for a comm signal…
"Pool," Taitt said.
"Pardon?" Seven of Nine said.
"If the pocket is blocked, let’s do some geometry and get our ball around it," Taitt tapped in another series of scans. "If we aim our communication signal at an angle, lining it up just right with that Type O star—"
"The signal will reflect around the ion storm," Seven of Nine said, already working her station. "I am adjusting the interplexing array. It should increase the signal strength and offset some of the reflective decay."
"This is why I always ask for all the smart women on my Away Teams," Stadi said.
"A prudent choice," Seven of Nine said.
Taitt laughed, and opened a channel.
*
Cavit rose from the big chair on Voyager’s Bridge, frowning at the amount of static on the viewscreen. It wasn’t Lieutenant Commander Stadi on the viewscreen either, it was Lieutenant Taitt, which meant Stadi was busy.
This can’t be good.
"We read you, Zandra, but you’re a little fuzzy," he said.
"Can’t be helped, Captain," Taitt said. "There’s an ion storm between us and it’s going to hit us shortly. We set up a trick shot to get this signal to you, but it won’t last. But we might need you to come our way." Her voice never lost its cool professionalism, but Cavit could read between the lines. "On the plus side, we found the benamite ore."
"Well done. Louis, do we have the storm on sensors?" Cavit said, glancing at Ensign Louis Culhane, who had Ops while Lieutenant Lan was on the Away Mission.
"Multiple ion stormfronts," Culhane nodded, raising his gaze. "Both are showing at least level two."
"Batten down, Lieutenant," Cavit said. "We’ll collect the troops and be on our way."
"We will, sir," Taitt said. "Delta Flyer out."
The screen returned to a view of the stars, and Cavit moved to the helm. Ensign Vesaya turned to face him as he approached. "Ensign," he said. "Plot in an intercept course that allows us to pick everyone up along the way. Scott, Louis, reach out to all the survey shuttles and call them back—I want everyone back aboard as soon as possible so we can get to the Flyer."
"Aye sir," Rollins said.
Cavit eyed the viewscreen again. They’d spread out the crew and Voyager, along with their multispatial probe, to best narrow down where the Undine had picked up their reading of benamite ore. Ro had the Pel, and Baxter, Russell, Arkinson, and Stiles all had shuttles. It was going to take them time to get everyone back aboard and get underway.
He heard Rollins speaking quietly into his side-display, where he had a channel open to Commander Ro, and decided to join him at the Tactical station.
"Captain," Ro said, the moment he stepped into view. "We’re fully stocked here, and I’m sure Ensign Baytart wouldn’t mind playing catch-up."
He’d expected the offer—he imagined it would repeat from Baxter and the others as well—but he shook his head. "There are multiple level two ion storms out there—and we all know how they like to interact." Ion storms were notoriously unstable, and tended to birth further storms when more than one was in close proximity to another.
"Understood," Ro said. "We’re on our way."
*
"The first wave will reach us in ten seconds," Seven of Nine said. "Nine. Eight. Seven."
Zandra Taitt braced against her station. They’d adjusted the shields, the Delta Flyer was the toughest shuttle they’d ever built, and she had Stadi at the helm, not to mention Seven of Nine and Sahreen Lan on board.
It should have made her feel better. It didn’t.
"Three. Two. One."
Everything went white.