After her team was nearly killed on a planet nicknamed "Sizzle", she finally learns that it's good to check out a planet BEFORE landing on itCautious after their experience on Sizzle, she ordered an exhaustive series of sensor sweeps, looking for any aberrations on the planet or in the atmosphere, anything that might produce an unexpected phenomenon. Only after she was satisfied that she wouldn't be blindsided again did she order the away teams to the transporter room.
p.23 (flashback)
Yes, Jeri Taylor never saw the TNG episode "Gambit". It's good to know that this woman was keeping an eye on Voyager's continuity.Many believed that an alien group from another galaxy had "seeded" the primordial soup of all the planets at the point when the building blocks that would produce life first began to develop
p.25
Voyager is crippled by an attack from a Kazon vessel that, by all rights, they should have seen coming. Why can they detect incoming Borg vessels while they're hours away and they get about 5 seconds warning on this Kazon ship? And how could the Kazon ship knock 43% off their shields so quickly? The amazing random Kazon threat level continues."Bridge to Captain, we have a rapidly approaching"- and then a horrendous explosion. Sparks flew from her monitor
...
"A Kazon vessel, Captain. It stayed in high warp until the last second, then dropped out and attacked. We were sitting ducks.
...
"Shields at fifty seven percent, hull breaches on decks four and fifteen."
p.27
I still don't know why the Trek writers think that it should be impossible to find things in nebulae. They way they describe nebulae, they're much more cluttered and dense than planetary atmospheres."Set a course for that planetary nebula we passed, Lieutenant. Then put us into rapid high warp- let's see if we can't catch them napping."
...
The sudden leap to warp did indeed catch the Kazon by surprise; Voyager had several minutes advantage and was able to enter the planetary nebula, which, with its clumps of star matter millions of kilometres across, offered a perfect hiding place.
p.66 (flashback)
p.82Kathryn had wanted to attend the Institute. Each state had such a school geared for a pre-Starfleet Academy curriculum, and created to channel the best and the brightest right to San Francisco
...
Kathryn would have been much happier at the Institute. She wouldn't have had to take such pointless, traditional studies as piano, ballet, and cooking. Cooking, for heaven's sake! Who would ever need to know how to cook? She could have concentrated on mathematics instead.
Interestingly enough, it seems that the phaser heating application may require particular types of material in order to work.It was pitch black. Wrist beacons began to snap on, and Tuvok spied magnesite, which he infused with phaser energy for light and heat.
p.109
Another sci-fi attempt to ape the dramatic tension of WW2 submarine movies.The first strike of the Kazon ship arrived with only seconds of warning, snapped by Tom Paris from the conn position. "Kazon weapons powering, Captain." A scant heartbeat later Voyager was rocked with the unmistakable thoop of percussive plasma flares.
"They're trawling," said Chakotay softly. "Just sending out flares and hoping they hit something."
p.135
p.137The Kazon had been trawling for over an hour, peppering the nebula with percussive plasma flares. Sometimes they seemed close; sometimes they were only a distant vibration. At one time Janeway thought they had given up and gone away, as they hadn't felt any jolts for almost thirty minutes. But then, in the distance, their sensors registered the distinctive thoop of the bombs growing closer once more.
p.146 (flashback)On the bridge, Janeway looked toward Paris. "I want to go to warp from within this nebula, Lieutenant. What's your assessment of the repercussions?"
Tom Paris hesitated only a second. "It's always dicey to go to warp from a full stop, but I'll increase power to the inertial dampeners; we might get bounced around, but I think we can do it."
"And the effect on the nebula gases?"
"That's another matter. There are volatile elements in here, and the sudden energy charge of our warp engines could ignite them. I'd say it's unpredictable."
Janeway hesitated only briefly. "We have to try. Let's do it."
"Yes, ma'am." Paris deftly fingered controls and Voyager shot into warp; inertial dampeners held but the crew was bounced around like rag dolls for nearly twenty seconds. Then things smoothed out.
p.151 (flashback)"I know Cheb. He has a silver tongue. If he'd lived four hundred years ago, he would've been a salesman."
Kathryn smiled. They'd studied about salesmen in school, about the time in Earth's history when people actually tried to talk people into acquiring things they didn't need, just to make money. It sounded so bizarre that she wouldn't have believed it if she hadn't studied the era and seen examples of the persuasive techniques such people used.
...
"When do you go back to school?" Hobbes, she knew, was returning to Indiana University, one of the most prestigious non-Starfleet institutions in the country and one of the hardest to get into.
"In about a week. I'm finishing up an honors thesis I've been working on this summer."
"In what subject?" Kathryn realized that she'd known Hobbes since they were children, but had almost no idea of his interests, his studies, his hobbies. Did he still play tennis?
"Philosophy. That's my major field." He chuckled. "Probably not too thrilling to someone on the science track at Starfleet Academy."
"I've always enjoyed philosophy."
p.162 (flashback)Admiral Paris was no longer on the active faculty of the Academy, having been transferred to Starfleet Command; it was bold of her even to approach him with her request. And if he did agree to be her advisor for her junior honors thesis, she would have to work twice as hard as anyone else, for Paris was that demanding.
p.172William Riker smiled, and if he was handsome before, he was gorgeous now. Just like Cheb.
...
"I hear you landed the Scorcher for your junior thesis."
"Is that what he's called? I'd never heard that."
"He leaves only scorched earth in his wake. No prisoners."
"He's demanding, but I thought he was awfully nice. Very devoted to his family. Are you doing a junior thesis?"
"I'm focusing on exopaleontology. Someday I want my own ship, and I think a broad educational base with an emphasis on the evolution of galactic cultures is the best background I can have."
Some interesting revelations about warp drive. And note: she's putting the entire ship at grievous risk yet again, in an attempt to rescue a landing party that was put down on the planet solely for scientific curiosity."Mr. Paris, have you ever achieved orbit directly from warp?"
"No, ma'am, I can't say that I have."
"Well, this is your chance."
Tom Paris turned and glanced at the captain, though he knew she was serious. "Ma'am?"
"I want to get our people back. But in all likelihood, the Kazon are still monitoring the planet. I want to stay at warp speed until we're behind the limb, then go directly into orbit."
Janeway watched as Tom pondered this dangerous feat. She could almost hear his mind working, making the necessary calculations. A moment passed, and then he glanced up at her.
"Captain, begging your pardon, but have you ever accomplished this?"
"No, Lieutenant, but I've heard of its being done. Therefore, it's a possibility."
"Yes, ma'am. What warp factor did you want to use?"
"The highest we can and still pull this off."
Tom turned again to his console, and ran his fingers over the touch-sensitive surface. Janeway knew he was entering parameters for one of the most difficult calculations he'd ever attempted to perform. The navigational computer, assisted by the multivariate computational skills of
Voyager's neural gel packs, would consider rates of acceleration and deceleration, the gravitational fields of the planet and its sun, the effect of the drag from the farthest reaches of the planet's atmosphere, and the peformance efficiencies of the ship's warp nacelles. Tom was reviewing these numbers as they flashed across his screen.
But even the extraordinary power of Voyager's computer system couldn't make the final choice among several viable trajectories; no computer could possibly take into account every subtle variable and contingency in such a complex calculation. Only the intuition of a gifted and experienced pilot could be trusted to make the final choice of heading and speed. And Janeway was banking on Tom's ability to do just that: to make a choice based on what felt right.
Finally, she saw him take a deep, quiet breath. "I think I can pull it off at warp four point two, Captain," he said, his voice betraying no hint of anxiety over the importance of this decision.
"Then do it."
"Aye, warp four point two. Engaging ..." There was a slight hesitation as he took a careful breath; she sensed him stilling his mind, concentrating on the task. "Now."
Voyager leapt to warp. At this speed, the planet was only a few minutes away from the shell of gas and dust clouds surrounding the distant reaches of the star system. Getting there would be easy; the hard part would be bringing the ship into orbit a microsecond before Voyager slammed into the planet at over a hundred times the speed of light.
p.180 (flashback)
p.181 (flashback)"We are also an information-gathering mission," continued Paris. "We will be traveling near Cardassian space, at times quite close to their borders, and at those times we will be active uploading intelligence about their troop movements, weapons depots, fleet size, and other data necessary to ensure the defense of the Federation."
A long, solemn silence blanketed the room as he spoke those words. Kathryn found her heart pounding. The ship was on a spy mission. Her first venture into deep space wasn't an innocuous assignment to gather scientific data- it was an urgent military operation, crucial and dangerous.
Admiral Paris absorbed the stunned silence that greeted his announcement, and continued. "There are those on this ship who are part of an elite core of Starfleet's finest: a highly trained, disciplined group of Rangers who will also function as members of the scientific expedition. They will work among you without your knowing their identity. I am the only person on board who knows who they are."
...
"They know each other. It's important that they be able to function as a unit, and they've been training toward that end for over a year. But I assure you they are also so grounded in scientific technique that you will be unable to single them out."
p.185 (flashback)"Sir," said Ensign Rhodes, "are we going to war with Cardassia?"
"I hope not. That's part of the purpose of missions like this - to prevent war. But I'm afraid that's more up to the Cardassians than to us."
...
He stopped and looked down at the table for a moment. "Reports we've gotten about their treatment of some of our colonists they've captured aren't - pretty. They have some particularly advanced technology for causing pain, for example."
p.186 (flashback)"I was born on Klatus Prime. Ever heard of it? I didn't think so. It's a small mining colony in Sector 22309. My family had been miners there for generations. It wasn't quite as easy a life as you have on Earth ..."
The multiple levels of stupidity inherent in this scene are too numerous to count.Six months later, she sat next to Admiral Paris in the two-person shuttle, and reflected on that initial encounter with Justin Tighe.
...
It was a relief to get away from him and accompany Admiral Paris on this short mission to one of the moons of Urtea II, where they had mounted a sensor array three months earlier. There should now be valuable records of the behaviour of extragalactic neutron stars and nonbaryonic matter, two major components of the galaxy's distant halo.
...
"That's a Cardassian ship, Ensign."
A cold knot formed in her stomach. This wasn't Cardassian territory. What was it doing here? "Should I alert the ship?"
"Maintain communications silence. It's possible they're unaware of the Icarus. I'd like to keep it that way."
Kathryn was aware that he was running a fairly complicated series of evasive maneuvers. What was he anticipating? She willed herself to remain calm, and focused on the sensors, which showed that a massive ship was rounding the limb of the moon. In seconds, it would be within eyesight.
The shuttle was dancing in space, maneuvering gracefully but unpredictably, when the Cardassian ship appeared. It was huge, roughly arrow-shaped, with a variety of weapons systems prominently displayed along its hull. Kathryn felt her heart hammering, but her mind was focused and her hands on the controls were steady.
A deep violet tractoring beam suddenly emanated from the Cardassian ship, and Kathryn realized the admiral had been anticipating this; his maneuvers were an effort to keep them from locking on. He glanced over at her, and his grave eyes were worried. "This may get unpleasant for us, Ensign." he said. "Do your best, but don't be unnecessarily heroic." She didn't know what he meant.
For a few minutes he was able to avoid the tractor, but as they both knew, it was only a delaying tactic. Eventually, the larger ship with its fat tractor beam would ensnare them - and that's exactly what happened, with a bone-jarring snap that tossed them around like toys.
p.216
Just in case you didn't your recommended daily allowance of irritating technobabble. It's interesting that damaged phasers can "backfire" and explode, though. Wonderful design"It's something in the plasma distribution manifold," she told Janeway. "The EPS flow regulators are functioning perfectly, but when energy is released into the manifold, it isn't getting into the prefire chambers in the right sequence. If we try to use the phasers, we could end up with a backfire explosion."
"Have you tried recalibrating the magnetic conduits and switching gates?"
"Several times. And I've run a diagnostic on the command processor, just to make sure the glitch isn't in the computer. Now we're remachining the nadion injectors, in case there's an undetected burr in the valving assembly."
p.227 (flashback)
p.262A month later, she, Justin, and her father were seated in the prototype ship Terra Nova as it entered the Tau Ceti system. It was an impressive vessel, small and lean, highly maneuverable - and heavily armed. It was Starfleet's response to the mounting threat of war with Cardassia.
...
The Terra Nova was designed to function in a variety of battle conditions. One of the innovations of the ship was warp thrusters, which provided quick bursts of speed without engaging full warp engines, allowing them to maneuver quickly out of dangerous circumstances, change position, and return to the fray from an unexpected direction. Computer simulations had originally indicated intractable stresses to the hull from the maneuver, but Admiral Janeway had eventually solved this and a host of other design problems.
...
"Solar winds are kicking up, Lieutenant," her father said. "Let's give the port thrusters one more burst and then call it a day."
"Aye, sir. It's been a good first run."
What happened then occurred so quickly that, years later, she couldn't pinpoint exactly what the sequence of events was. All she could recall was that one moment she heard her father say "Wind shear -" and the next she was falling through space ...
p.268It was not the Federations.
The beings that hovered before them were huge brown parasectoids nearly half a meter long, with fierce-looking mandibles and an elongated snout that contained a large, powerful jaw with sharp, wicked teeth. Their underbellies were a mottled green, and they were coated in a coagulated substance that dripped from them like thick jelly.
He realized that they must be the Tokath, but was unsure as to the significance of their appearance. Had the Federations found these beings and made use of them as an advance unit? Were they intended as a diversion, allowing the Federations to escape? Or was this Miskk's doing, his vengeance? Sittik didn't know the answers to these questions, but he was certain their departure from the pit did not bode well. And as if they read his mind, the creatures behan a disturbing sound, somewhere between a click and a squeal. He made an automatic response.
"Fire," he ordered his men, and they immediately unleashed their weapons on the creatures.
Under the withering barrage, the creatures began to emit a high-pitched shriek that assaulted the eardrums like a knife point. As they tumbled back into the pit, dead or mortally wounded, a wretched odor began to emanate from them, fouling the air even further.
But to Sittik's dismay, more and more of them began to appear, rising from the dust-occluded pit which was now becoming a graveyard, chittering in that unnvering wail that chilled his blood and rent his ears. Where were they all coming from? How could there be so many?
...
Something wet hit his face and he daubed at it, then screamed as it began eating into the skin of his cheek and his hand. Frantically, he pawed at the awful substance, which was quickly making a paste of his skin; the more he tried to wipe it off, the deeper he gouged it in. He sank to his knees, desperate with pain, trying to make a poultice of dirt, smearing it into the wound but quickly realizing nothing helped.
Another glob of the stuff hit him in the forehead, and the process was begun again. Around him, he was vaguely aware of his men in the same circumstances, and he realized that these hideous creatures were emitting the noxious liquid, spraying it from their underbellies, reducing his proud squad to a wailing, helpless mass, squirming on the ground and begging the gods to put an end to their misery.
It appears that range dissipation is a problem for Kazon disruptors."Captain, the shields are starting to degrade. The closer we get to their ship, the more impact their weapons have," observed Chakotay.
p.270
Note that Trakis is a Trabe who'd been captured and forced to do an examination on a captured Tokath. He would soon be beamed out and onto Voyager.Nimmet leapt for him and in one sweeping motion Trakis grabbed the lifeless shell of the dead creature and presented its green underbelly towards Nimmet's slashing blow. The knife laced through the belly and, as Trakis had hoped, directly into the parasectoid's poison sac. Nimmet jerked the knife out and then began to scream, clawing at his hand as the toxic fluid began eating into it.
p.272
This is Trakis speaking."The Tokath are what we call a parasectoid species, hard-shelled creatures lacking intelligence - but which are vicious and deadly. They'd adapted to survive in almost any habitat - air, water, even space. They were an almost ideal defense force, and they kept this planet safe from all invaders for centuries."
...
"A massive plasma eruption burst from the star's equatorial zone thousands of years ago. It created an electrical disturbance in the planet's atmosphere which would eventually kill almost every living thing on the planet - which is the only one in the system that supports life. The Krett were technologically advanced, and had spaceships. They could evacuate, but there was no way to take millions of the Tokath with them. So they transformed the Tokath habitat into hibernation chambers, put them into stasis, and departed - hoping one day to return to their world."
p.278 (flashback)
Biographical info on Tom Paris. Could someone explain again why they didn't just call him Nick LeCarno, which was the name of the identical character played by the identical actor in TNG IIRC?The news that evening was tragic, but it was to spare the Paris family for now. Tom had been leading a fighter squadron in maneuvers; one of the cadets had made a miscalculation, which led to an error, which led to an accident, and two of the vessels collided, killing the pilots. Tom had risked his ship to prevent the mishap, but to no avail.
p.279 (flashback)
So they assigned Tuvok to her ship in order to babysit her and make sure she followed the regs? This is just too funny.Tuvok began to speak, and in a few minutes her cheeks were flaming and her heart thudding in her chest: she was furious. She worked to control her temper as the Vulcan's rich voice droned on and on. "... and tactical logs indicated that there were no test firings, no battle drills, and only two weapons reviews during the mission. All told, there are exactly forty three violations of tactical procedures, ranging from the minor to those I would consider significant."
With that pronouncement he set down his last padd and folded his hands in front of him, solemnly regarding her. A deep hush had fallen on the room, and Kathryn realized she was going to have to defend herself. Admiral Finnegan turned to her, and though his voice was quiet, it held no hint of pliability. "You may feel free to answer the charges, Captain."
Kathryn took a moment to compose herself, then stood. "Sir, I was raised in the traditions of Starfleet. I learned the precepts of this organization at an early age; I admire and honor them." She paused, looking from one to the other, but studiously ignoring Tuvok the Vulcan.
"It has always been clear to me that Starfleet is first and foremost an institution which is dedicated to exploration and investigation. Its primarily responsibilities are the acquisition of knowledge, the seeking out of new worlds, and the establishment of cordial relations with other species. Those tasks represent the mandate we have created - a mandate which is both positive and powerful." She looked directly at Admiral Finnegan. "This is not, strictly speaking, a military organization. It functions as such only when there is a need for self-defense. The military aspects of Starfleet- its command structure and nomenclature, for example- are in place primarily as a framework within which its members can function according to clearly established guidelines."
Now she turned directly to Tuvok, looked him square in those shielded eyes of his, and drilled into him. "Tactical functions, weapons checks, battle drills - those are activities I consider low-priority. As long as I am assured that we are at the ready in case of attack, I see no need to spend large amounts of time drilling the crew in the mechanics of war ..."
...
"Captain, you completed your first mission in fine style, and I'm entering a commendation from Admiral Paris into your record; he feels the pulsar data you compiled is of extreme value."
"Thank you, sir."
"You show all the potential to become an able captain, indeed. However, Mr. Tuvok here is quite right in his insistence that tactical regulations not be ignored because of your interpretation of Starfleet's charter. From now on, you're to stick to the rules."
"Yes, sir." Kathryn was stung by the rebuke, but swallowed her feelings.
"However, we had a thought which might serve everyone's best interests. We've been looking for a suitable post for Ensign Tuvok, who is eager to return to deep space. We've decided to assign him to your ship to serve as tactical officer on your next mission."
...
"I'd like some time to think it over, sir." she replied.
The admiral nodded genially. "Take all the time you'd like, Captain. But realize- this decision has been made."
p.285
p.291All the bridge crew stared in astonishment at the viewscreen, watching as the brown cloud rose from the planet, all but obscuring it from view. It was densely thick, a solid mass of undulating matter that spread relentlessly from the planet's surface, through the atmosphere, and into space, toward the two ships now poised in anticipation, their own conflict forgotten for the moment.
"Captain," whispered Trakis, voice hoarse with anxiety, "you must go. Now. Quickly. They'll overwhelm the ship. They emit a caustic substance which will gradually neutralize your shields and then eat through your hull. They'll be inside of the ship in an hour and they'll kill everything that moves."
As she watched the approach of the brown sludge, Janeway was tempted to agree. There was something almost unbearable ominous about this vast aggregate. Her ship was in peril.
But so was her away team. She turned to Trakis, who had gone pale at the approach of the Tokath. "Is there a way to repel them?"
"I don't know of any. They're relentless - it's impossible to destroy them all. You might kill thousands, but they just keep coming."
Janeway watched as the umber cloud rose higher and higher, gaining definition now, a roiling mass of organic matter in which one could begin to distinguish discrete forms. They vaguely reminded Janeway of beetles, one of the most abundant life forms on Earth, except that they were much larger and, of course, had apparently adapted to survive in space.
...
"Is conventional weaponry effective against them?"
"Yes. But there are simply too many of them. When your weapons arrays are drained of energy, they'll still be coming."
"I have no wish to slaughter creatures who are only going on instinct." Janeway turned and addressed Rollins, "Voyager may have a few tricks that ships in the Delta Quadrant lack. Rollins, prepare a polaron emission. Maybe that will make us less attractive to them."
...
She was convinced that success was just minutes away. The first contraindication to that assumption was a seemingly insignificant one. Rollins' voice was calm as he noted, "I'm reading a minor disruption on the shields, aft port ventral."
"Nature of the disruption?"
"Unknown. If it's the Tokath, they aren't doing much damage."
"Increase the level of the polaron emission."
"Aye. Now at maximum."
They descended silently for a minute more, and then Rollins spoke again, this time more urgently. "Captain, I'm reading further disruption to the shields. This time more widespread."
"The Tokath?"
"I think so- I'm reading life signs penetrating the shields. Aft port ventral is beginning to degrade."
...
"Captain, the shields are degrading pretty rapidly," said Chakotay. "Down to sixty three percent and falling."
Janeway acted. "Mr. Paris, abort landing sequence. Set a course away from the planet."
...
The Kazon ship was no longer firing weapons, and was listing randomly, apparently powerless. Voyager streamed past it, and finally broke free of the swarm of Tokath, which was clustered between the planet and the Kazon ship. They watched intently to see if any of the creatures followed them. After a few moments, Paris ventured, "It doesn't look like any more are coming after us, Captain."
"But the ones on our shields aren't letting go," added Chakotay. "Shields now down to forty seven percent."
p.298 (flashback)"Lieutenant, set a course for the primary star of this system. We're going to burn those things off our shields."
...
"Can we implement the metaphasic shielding program?" she asked.
"I'm not sure. We've routed so much power to the shields we don't have much to support the metaphasic program."
"Get it from somewhere. We have to get closer to that star."
"Aye, Captain, he replied, and began working a console. "Borrowing some from the impulse reactors ... environmental ... transporters ... let's give it a try. Establishing metaphasic program - now."
Almost immediately, there was relief from the heat. The metaphasic shielding program, an innovation implemented just before Voyager was commissioned, had been developed on the former flagship of Starfleet, the U.S.S. Enterprise-D. It had been added to the defensive systems of certain classes of starship, and was supposed to provide enough protection from heat and radiation that a ship could actually enter a star's inner corona. Because it was a new technology, there hadn't been the opportunity to accumulate much data on its reliability. But it was the only hope Janeway had now of providing enough protection to take her ship closer to the fiery star.
"Mr. Paris, move us closer. Thrusters only."
"Aye," said Paris, and they watched as the solar disc grew larger still.
"I can't guarantee how long we'll be able to keep the metaphasic program stable," Chakotay warned. "It's draining our power reserves pretty rapidly."
Fucking stupid indecisive bitch.It was that ship whose fuselage now projected from the water bed, nose up, violated and broken, looming out of the water like a huge and formidable iceberg. It was that ship in whose cabin she could clearly see her father and Justin, dazed and bloody, but alive.
She had immediately gone into action. Of course, she would - she was accustomed to pressure, to emergencies, to disasters. They were simply challenges, and Kathryn Janeway had always risen to the challenge ... A console was flickering in the section of the cabin in which she'd ridden to the surface. There was still power, something was working. She flew to the controls and began entering commands; to her relief, they responded. She might be able to transport her father and Justin from the shell of the ship's cabin.
She focused intently on the console, quickly realizing she'd have to cobble together several circuits in order to have enough power for a site-to-site transport. To transport two people she'd need eight hundred megawatts. Their patterns would already be encoded within the ship's systems, of course, standard practice for the crew of any vessel.
She glanced over her shoulder to take a visual sighting of their positions, and made a mind-numbing discovery: the ship's fuselage was sinking. It was almost a meter lower in the sea than when she'd begun working, though the two men in the cockpit were still safely above the yawning pit of black water.
She turned back, working quickly. Two emergency microfusion generators were still on-line. They could be routed to the primary energizing coils. She brought the targeting scanners on-line and initiated a coordinates lock. This process would verify that the transporter system was functioning within operational standards, something else she couldn't be sure of because of all the damage.
The scanners refused to lock on to the two figures in the ship's cockpit. Quickly checking the system, Kathryn understood why: the annular confinement beam was too unstable to hold two bodies in the spatial matrix within which the dematerialization process occurred. She had enough power to transport only one person. Not two. One.
Fear clutched at her. Though the air was bone-chilling, she didn't notice the cold. Adrenaline coursed through her body, her heart hammered, and her head pounded with every heartbeat. She looked back at the sinking ship, its two occupants slumped over their seats, moving slightly, still alive. Justin, her fiance, whom she loved and adored, and with whom she would spend the rest of her life. And her father, beloved Daddy, who had challenged and inspired her and made her what she was.
How could she choose that one would live and the other die? Flash visions of life with Justin - knowing she had sacrificed her father to allow him to live - flooded her mind. How could she be happy with Justin after paying that price?
Life without Justin, knowing she had sacrificed him to save her father, was equally intolerable. How could fate have presented her with this bitter dilemma?
p.300 (flashback)
She turned to the console, mind racing with every fact and figure she could remember about this experimental ship. The phaser banks were recharged through a neodyne capacitor circuit. If the capacitors retained enough residual charge, she might be able to bring the annular confinement beam up to eight hundred megawatts - the minimum she'd need to transport both men. But the only way to find out was to tap into the capacitors. She'd have to try to engage the beam and see if it gained enough power.
Rerouting through the phaser couplings, she drew a deep breath and activated the transporter circuit. She needed that eight hundred megawatts only long enough to make one transport. Just five seconds, to dematerialize her father and Justin, transfer their molecular patterns to the storage buffer, and rematerialize them. It had to be possible.
Little by little, the beam gained power. It was working! Just seconds more, and she'd have them both safely on land, next to her. The emergency medical kit was in her section of the cabinl; she could stabilize their injuries and keep them warm until a rescue ship found them. They were being tracked on Starfleet scanners and it shouldn't be too long before help arrived.
The annular confinement beam power inched upward in maddeningly slow increments ... five hundred eighty megawatts ... six hundred ninety ... seven hundred forty ... valuable seconds ticked by as Kathryn concentrated with all her intensity on the readings, willing them to reach the needed number. Seven hundred seventy-five ... seven hundred ninety ... and then finally, the beam power registered eight hundred megawatts. She could transport them both. Quickly, she initiated automatic pattern lock, bypassing the diagnostic process in order to save precious milliseconds, manually activated the annular confinement beam, and whirled to meet them.
The ship's fuselage had disappeared, sunk beneath the inky waters of the alien sea.
...
She had lost them both.
ROTFLMAO





