Chapters 6-10

Chapter 6

The next six months were dedicated to finishing my degree, and my family all came to San Francisco for my graduation. We had a big party, and at the party I met Lauren, whom you know was my girlfriend throughout most of my ordeal. No need to go into too much detail about that meeting; let’s just say we liked each other, started dating, and within a year were living together in Guatemala, where she had a house on Lake Atitlan.

I started working for the Office of Diplomatic Affairs as a legal correspondent to the Ambassador General of Earth. I was extremely lucky to get such a good job out of the Academy, and I tried to make my gratitude known on the job every day. My boss, Patrick, was three levels below Ambassador Villeneuve herself, and Patrick and I became close friends rather quickly.

I hadn’t been thinking about Tuvix that much, although the story did stick in my craw, I can’t deny. And mostly I was curious why the story wasn’t discussed more openly.

My job was pretty routine; requests for exchange and trade came into the Ambassador’s office all the time from Federation worlds and worlds beyond the Federation, and it was my job to summarize those requests to Patrick, who would send them up to teams that would decide on how to respond. In some cases I’d respond with whatever they’d decided, but in most cases I never found out what happened to those requests.

One day a request from Bajor crossed my desk, asking that a team of xenobotanists could be permitted to stay on Earth for a year to study Earth plantlife. Very routine, and the kind of request that would usually get an approval in a day.

But there was one aspect about the request that made my eyes wide like saucers: when I read the formal request, I saw that they were to be hosted by The Doctor.

The Doctor from Voyager. The hologram. The first hologram to be granted personhood by Earth (a move the Federation has not yet supported, although I personally think they should).

The Doctor had moved to Borneo, not too far from my old home, where he was doing some research on the local flora and fauna--something he did in addition to his singing, acting, and writing. No one had embraced the celebrity of the Voyager story as much as The Doctor, and he’d definitely become the most famous person in Asia. Ironic, as he is more a combination of photons and force fields than human.

I had put aside my discomfort about the whole Tuvix situation, mostly by necessity. I knew there was no way for me to pursue the matter further, because pursuing it would mean sitting down with some of the most famous and prestigious people in the Federation. Janeway, Chakotay, and The Doctor hardly would have time to indulge the questions of a mere law clerk. I wasn’t so naive as to think they would.

But this--this was different. This was an opportunity, and I felt an ethical imperative to take it.

“Computer, voice message to Patrick’s inbox: Patrick, I just received a request from Bajor. Team of five scientists want to come stay on Borneo for a year. I normally wouldn’t flag this for you, but it seems pretty obvious to get approved since they’re a small group and they’ve got a local sponsor. If it does get approved, I’d like to ask a favor: can I be touchpoint on this case? I’m asking because I used to live near Borneo, and this seems like a great opportunity for me to meet up with some friends I still have there.”

Not exactly the truth, but this seemed like the kind of innocent white lie you use in the workplace, like when an engineer tells a captain a problem will take 5 hours to fix when it really takes 3. I thought nothing of it.

Little did I realize this would be the first in a series of lies I’d tell to get to my end goal. And I regret none of them.

Patrick got back to me later that day with two notes: yes, it’s approved, and, yes, I can be touchpoint. This means I’d be personally involved in approving their visas, offering support if they have any questions or concerns on their stay, and keeping the Bajoran Embassy aware of any problems or emergencies if they show up.

Perfect.

I wrote a message to the secretary of the Bajoran party: Tora Krees. “Hello Tora, my name is Jason and I am a Legal Correspondent to Ambassador General Villeneuve, who has personally approved your request for a one-year visa to Earth for your team. Please inform me of when your ship will arrive so that I may welcome you to Earth. Thank you, and we look forward to being your host.”

Her reply was in my inbox the next morning; I read it with my morning coffee. “Thank you Mr. Li. We will be arriving on May 15th at 8:00 GMT at Singapore station, where we hope to beam to Borneo thereafter. Yours truthfully and walk with the prophets, Tora Krees.”

Nice letter--short, to the point, and with a signature that combines both Earth and Bajoran cultures. I had a feeling I’d like Tora. Perhaps unfortunately, I was right.

On May 15th, I beamed to Singapore station and saw Tora and her team after they’d beamed down and had cleared their paperwork with border patrol. On the land side of the station, I shook Tora’s and her team’s hands one by one, saying “welcome to Earth” to each.

“Please come walk with me,” I said as we went from the large lobby where new arrivals to Earth were walking in transit to their next destinations. I didn’t know if travel on Bajor was anything like Earth, so I thought it best to explain just in case. “Earth has ten stations where off-planet arrivals are authorized: Singapore is one of the largest. After beaming to Earth and passing border control, travelers then can transit to the transporter rooms dedicated to whatever region they are looking to visit. As we are beaming to Borneo, which is just a thousand kilometers away, we’ll be going to the local-regional transporter rooms: there are thirty at Singapore, all of which are dedicated to transporting parties to different parts of southeast Asia.”

“Very interesting,” said Koraal, one of the elderly doctors. Bajorans look very much like humans, so my guess that Koraal was in his late fifties was probably accurate; Tora, on the other hand, looked to be my age, but with lighter hair and skin. And, of course, she was female.

“Is transport like this on Bajor?” I asked, hoping my friendly tone communicated over the universal translator. I wasn’t sure if Bajorans would take offense to the question.

If they do, Koraal didn’t. “Not exactly. We don’t get so many visitors, so we only have one such station in Ashalla. Intraplanetary travel is still done mostly by shuttlecraft.”

I nodded. “The vast majority of travel on Earth is shuttlecraft. We need to limit transporter usage because of the high energy it takes, so all citizens and visitors are given credits: five roundtrip transports allotted per person per month, with 20 to 100 for Starfleet.”

“That’s quite the difference,” Koraal noted.

“Well, Starfleet is all over Earth, so we tend to need to move around a lot,” I said, adding, “as guests of The Doctor, you are all allotted 50 credits per month.”

“Excellent!” Tora said. “There’s a lot of Earth I would like to see.”

“I would be happy to arrange a guided tour,” I said, trying to sound as if I were addressing all of them and not Tora alone. “Anytime. I’ve been assigned to help make your visit here as enjoyable as possible, so please contact me anytime you need to for anything you might need. I’m here to serve,” I said.

“Humans are truly wonderful,” one of the scientists said. I had been told her name but, in all honesty, I forgot it.

“I’m sure after a year among us you might not be so sure of that,” I said with a smile. They chuckled, apparently interpreting my statement as I wanted them. I was pleased to be getting along with them so easily, if not too surprised; Bajorans deserve their reputation as kind and friendly people.

We arrived at the transporters, seeing just four parties in a queue at Transporter Room 4, so we walked down to the corridor and stopped at the room’s glass doors. In less than five minutes the four parties had been beamed to their destinations, and we were up.

“Borneo, The Doctor’s residence,” I said, beaming the security codes to the technician. He nodded, wordlessly.

“If you would all step on the platform, please,” I said. “The Doctor’s staff will be there to greet you, but please let me know if you need anything in the meantime.”

“Of course,” Koraal said. “Thank you for your help.”

“Anytime--I mean it. Please do keep in touch,” I said, meaning it. “Energize.”

Chapter 7

I had to wait four days, and I admit those four days were agonizing. But it was Tora who messaged me.

“Hello Mr. Li. I remember your offer to arrange a tour. I would very much like to visit Italy, Switzerland, and southern France sometime this weekend, but I know little about the regions and was wondering if you could arrange an expert or at least chaperone to come with me? Thank you again for everything.”

I replied with a voice call.

“Hi, it’s Jason. I saw your message. I know a bit about Europe and would be happy to accompany you.”

“Thank you, that’d be wonderful!

“But the region is really quite big and there’s a lot to see. Is there anything in particular you want to see?”

“We went to New Orleans yesterday and saw the Christ Church Cathedral. The Doctor said it was based on the churches of Europe, so I’d love to see--”

“Say no more,” I said. “I know exactly where to go. Can you meet me at Singapore station? We can beam to Milan from there.”

She agreed.

We met in the morning and beamed directly to Milan, where I gave her a complete tour of Duomo di Milano and gave a lecture about the history of Catholicism on Earth, the colonization of America, and the myths around Christian architecture. I may not be an expert, but I think my mini lecture impressed Tora.

We left the cathedral and walked to a small restaurant that specialized in fried chicken and wine. Being as we were in Italy and she was Bajoran, I promptly ordered a bottle. “Cheers,” I said, and, after a sip, “I hope my lecture wasn’t too dull.”

“It is very strange to think that the Emissary’s culture has their own religion unrelated to the prophets, but it does make sense,” she said.

Oh, right. Sisko. That’s why they went to New Orleans. I’d completely forgotten about that.

“Yes, Captain Sisko was raised Catholic, I believe,” I said, although in all honesty I didn’t know, and I was sure she and most Bajorans knew more about Sisko than I did. “He is still in the Celestial Temple of the Prophets, isn’t he?” I mentally patted myself on the back for not calling it the wormhole.

“As far as we know,” she said matter of factly. I had never thought of it before, but I suddenly envied the Bajorans. Not only were they confident in their faith but they had proof that their religion was, to some extent, true; their gods, after all, lived 300 million kilometers away and could be visited at any time.

“I am saying this as a friend and not as a representative of the Ambassador of Earth,” I said, hoping the genuine feeling came through in my voice. “We humans really respect the Bajoran people--I can’t think of any alien race spoken of in friendlier terms, to be honest. I hope you join the Federation soon.”

“Me too,” she said.

“In any case, there’s a long future of happy and peaceful relations between our people.”

She laughed. “Now you’re definitely talking like a representative of the Ambassador of Earth.”

“Habit of the job, I guess,” I said, somewhat sheepishly.

“Your Earth is truly beautiful,” she said, looking outside the restaurant’s windows to the cobblestone streets outside. “How old did you say that church was?”

“About a thousand years old,” I replied. “Pretty new for Europe.”

“And for Bajor,” Tora added. “But truly grand even if it isn’t so old.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

As it was getting late in Borneo and it was early morning in Guatemala, we shook hands at the station and parted ways. I beamed back to my house on Atitlan, immediately hearing the lap of the water in the lake from the open living room window.

I knew what that meant.

“Lauren,” I called out to the kitchen. She turned around, her black curly hair bouncing around her round face as she did so.

“Jason, you’re back.”

I went to the kitchen and kissed her cheek. She’d already put coffee in the French Press. “I’m sorry I had to leave in the night, but you know I had that work thing.”

She waved her hand. “Don’t mention it. I guess you’re going to sleep now?”

Now I should explain: I loved Lauren. I truly did. I still do. She’s a beautiful human being inside and out, and she was a loyal lover and friend throughout our relationship. She didn’t deserve any of this. And even if she hates me, I’ll never wish her anything but the most happiness imaginable.

“I’ll wait until you go to work. I’m jealous of that coffee,” I said as she poured it into her mug.

“I can replicate some decaf.”

“Horrible thought,” I said. “Replicated and decaffeinated? Should be illegal.”

“Well, maybe one day you can prosecute me for it,” she said teasingly as she caressed the mug in her hands.

“So you’re going to work when you’re done?”

“Yes,” she said. “I’m going to drive up to Oaxaca. We’re still doing a molecular analysis of the jungle.” Like the Bajorans, Lauren was a biologist. “I should be back by tonight.”

“Great,” I said. “I’ll be awake by then. We can have dinner slash breakfast.”

“Only if you cook.”

“Of course,” I said, leaning over to kiss her on the forehead.”

“Is that wine?” she asked, apparently smelling it on my breath.

“Yeah,” I said through a yawn. “Tora wanted to go to Italy so we had to get some wine after I did the tour.”

“Lucky you,” she said.

“I can open a bottle for dinner,” I said quickly.

“You better.”

Chapter 8

Over the next month, I continued giving Tora tours. It almost became a routine and so, for me, almost comfortable. That’s not to say I disliked Tora--I liked her very much--but I just did not relish battling the time zones and juggling meals and dates with my girlfriend with my duties as a Legal Correspondent.

No matter; many people have much worse jobs.

The way we did it was pretty simple: on Saturday and Sunday Tora and I met at 8am Borneo time and would walk around the tourist site of the day (Cannes, Florence, Bern, Tuscany, you get the idea), have lunch, go to another spot nearby for the afternoon, have a couple of glasses of wine, and part ways--her back to Borneo, me back to Guatemala.

The bad part about this was it meant I had to leave Lauren at 6pm on Saturday and Sunday nights, and come back the next day around 7 or 8 in the morning. Meaning she was spending weekend evenings alone, and sleeping alone, too.

I couldn’t tell Tora about this and I didn’t really want to; it wasn’t her fault, and her schedule with The Doctor was so packed that she didn’t have time otherwise. And I was proud of Earth; I genuinely wanted to show it off.

I also liked Tora. She had a crazy story, as did most Bajorans. She was 21 years old, so she was two when the occupation ended; her father had been a collaborator, so he was executed when Bajor got its freedom. Her mother had handed him over to the Bajoran rebels when the Cardassians left, having always been opposed to his treachery. Thus Tora had grown up to hate her father, love her people, and see loyalty as the greatest virtue a human being can have.

Her mother started a business selling animal feed to farmers in the Eastern Province, and she had a knack for it; she became quite wealthy, earning Tora a seat in an elite private school that made it a cinch for Tora to get into the University of Bajor, where she got her degree in xenobiology in two years. Tora had a desire to explore the galaxy, and her degree was how she planned to do that.

I learned her back story in bits and pieces as we traveled together, and I must admit the ancient European backdrop combined with the intense and dramatic stories that came so naturally to Bajorans because of their planet’s brutal past made for a very romantic atmosphere. I was beginning to see Tora as someone I could be friends with for a very long time.

Friends, yes, friends. I never wanted more.

Of course, you could say I was using her. After all, this above-and-beyond service was my way of getting into the good graces of the Bajoran team so that, eventually, they’d invite me to the Doctor’s house whenever he was going to have one of his fabled house parties. That was definitely part of why I was there, but it wasn’t the only reason. Even if that wasn’t on the cards, I would have remained friends with Tora. If I’d had the choice.

It took a total of seven weeks of these weekend trips until finally Tora messaged me at a rather awkward moment; the com rang literally fifteen seconds after Lauren and I had finished having sex.

Hearing the ring, I quickly tried to catch my breath by taking a big gulp of water and turning a fan on, putting it next to the bed, and sitting upright against my pillows. Seeing my attempt at zen made Lauren giggle.

“She’s gonna know,” she said.

“No she won’t!” I hissed, com signal still buzzing. I tapped. “Jason here.”

“Have I caught you at a bad time? It’s Tora,” she said. Lauren swallowed a laugh.

“Not at all, how are you?”

“Excellent, thank you again--I really had fun in Lisbon last week. But this weekend I wanted to propose something different.”

I knew it.

“The Doctor is throwing what he calls a ‘soiree’, and he’s asked the Ambassador to come. I thought it’d be nice if you and your girlfriend could come as well.”

Lauren’s eyes widened. She loved parties, she loved meeting people, and she loved the Voyager story. A chance to meet The Doctor? If she had to quit to make it happen, she would.

“That sounds awesome,” I said, worried that my voice sounded more relieved than elated. “We’ll make sure to be there.”

“Friday 5pm Borneo time,” she replied. “We’ll be having cocktails first and The Doctor will be serving food. We might even have a Dobo table, if I can convince Koraal to let me replicate one,” she said.

I chuckled. “Lauren would love that. Definitely, we’ll be there.”

“See you then!”

“She sounds nice,” Lauren said--this had been the first time she’d heard Tora speak.

“Oh she is,” I said. “I can tell you two will get along well.”

Chapter 9

Lauren and I took a shuttle to Borneo; while it was a long trip, Lauren said she preferred the hour journey to keep her transporter credits. Which was fine by me--I spent the time reading up on Voyager.

Beyond the Missives, a lot of books have been written about Voyager, some by former crew, some by experts, others by talking heads. They all had one thing in common: no mention of Tuvix.

But a lot had been written about The Doctor. He was an incredibly vain figure, it seemed, but also a genuinely caring and upstanding person. He had to be; his ethical subroutines required it. But he also had interests in art, particularly European opera, and that was going to be my in: I’d spent the last month going all around Europe, so striking up a conversation on this topic would be easy.

When we arrived, I immediately realized my plan was just a bit faulty. There were over two hundred people there, with more beaming in every few minutes. The house was a sprawling mansion; his land credits could not have been sufficient to afford this kind of palace, which told me something else was going on behind the scenes.

I saw the Doctor a couple of minutes after we arrived, holographic glass of champagne in his hand, talking to the Ambassador--my boss’s boss’s boss’s boss, who probably didn’t know I existed. And that was a situation I wanted to keep going.

“Jason!” I heard a familiar voice from behind me. It was Tora.

I turned around, she smiled and gave me a hug. “Thanks again for the invite,” I said, then gestured. “This is Lauren, my girlfriend.”

Another hug. “I’ve heard so much about you,” she said to Lauren after their embrace. “Jason really loves you quite a lot.”

“I’m sure he paid you to say that,” she said lightly. We all laughed.

“So let me give you a tour--it’s my turn to be guide,” she said as she walked us into the house from the front garden and up the spiral staircase in the center of the lobby. The house was incredibly tacky; it looked like a mansion from 19th century Boston, horribly out of place in Borneo.

“The Doctor got approval to set up this as his research lab and home,” Lauren said. That explained the big size: this was all Starfleet property. “I don’t know how he got approval to design the whole thing too, but this is all to his specs.”

“Quite an amazing hologram,” I said wryly.

“I know--with peculiar tastes.”

“How’s the work going?” Lauren asked.

“Quite good, actually--I’ve been stunned at Earth’s biodiversity,” she said. “You’re a biologist too, aren’t you? Jason told me.”

“I am,” Lauren replied.

“We need to talk!” Tora said with genuine giddiness in her voice.

“You guys can talk biology later,” I said. “Not with me around.”

Tora laughed. “My boyfriend was like that too,” she said. “Got so bored hearing me talk about plants that he forbade it as a dinner conversation topic.”

“Fortunately, Jason’s too smart to try to forbid me from doing anything,” Lauren said.

Yes, they were getting along fine. This was all great.

“Okay, you two have fun,” I said, as I looked over and saw The Doctor walking alone through the lobby downstairs. “I’m going to go do some networking.” I slipped away before they could respond.

I zipped down the stairs as fast as I could and walked to the doorway The Doctor had just gone through--they were swinging saloon-style doors, and as I opened them I saw a massive kitchen, like what would be in a restaurant, with a multitude of cooks working. The Doctor was barking orders.

Definitely not a chance to get him. But if i just waited outside--

“Jason.”

I didn’t recognize the voice, but I recognized the face when I turned. It was Koraal. “Greetings, sir,” I said, extending my hand.

He took it. “It is a pleasure to see you again. I see you took Tora’s invitation.”

“Yes, sir, it’s really quite an honor, and I’ve always wanted to see Borneo.”

“It’s a lovely place,” he said. “You definitely should see a bit of it before you live.

“Indeed,” I said. And at that point I saw The Doctor quickly slam open the saloon doors, walk straight past them and into the front garden.

“Do you know where the wine is?” I asked.

“Oh, outside.”

“Excuse me, then,” I said, again picking up my stride as I tried to catch up with The Doctor.

I was outside, but too late--he was already talking to someone else, this time an extremely beautiful woman--a human possibly from the Indian subcontinent.

Damn.

I didn’t know if Koraal was watching me or if he cared, but I went to the bar and got a glass of red wine. Sip, pucker mouth, swallow. It was replicated, it was synthehol, and it was disgusting.

No matter. I’ve got the cocktail party artillery: drink in hand, I can now walk around looking as if I’m mingling, and so I started to walk towards The Doctor.

“The best sunsets in Borneo are unquestionably in the wet season,” I heard him tell the beautiful Indian. “You see, in the wet season if you’re at the right elevation and the rain has just stopped, the reds and purples in the sky cascade across all the drops of water on the flowers. Many avoid the wet season in Southeast Asia. I embrace it.”

What was this? Was he...was he hitting on this woman? I mean, of course holograms can have sex (I shudder to think of the disgusting sexual things holograms have been used for, trillions of times across thousands of light years), but do they like sex? Do they desire sex? And is it creepy that he’s hitting on this woman who looks to be half his age? Or is it creepy because, technically speaking, The Doctor is still a teenager?

My head was starting to hurt going through these thoughts, and the bad wine wasn’t helping either.

Better to just try to butt into the conversation.

“I can agree,” I said, unsure if The Doctor was annoyed that I was talking to him or annoyed that I was interrupting his attempt at courtship. Either way, his face was an open book: he was annoyed.

Still, I pressed on. “I lived in Malaysia for most of my life, and the sunset in the wet season is exquisite, especially if you get a cool breeze at the same time.”

“I was just telling The Doctor I’d never seen an Earth monsoon,” the Indian replied. “I lived on Mars my entire life--I only moved to Earth last month.”

“Well, as I work for the Ambassador of Earth, let me officially welcome you to Earth,” I said with a short nod, to which she smiled. The Doctor’s frown deepened. “My name is Jason.”

“I am Saritha, nice to meet you.”

I turned to The Doctor. “And thank you for throwing this party,” I said. “I’ve never been to Borneo, and it’s a great honor.”

That mollified him, somewhat. “Yes, I like to open my doors to whoever can come,” he replied, the tone clearly having a twinge of contempt. I did not know if he was bad at hiding his feelings or wanted me to feel inferior; either way, I definitely did not feel great about myself at that moment.

“If you will excuse me,” Saritha said, “I see Dr. Nordstrom.”

Bye, Saritha.

“So, Doctor,” I said, turning to The Doctor before he had a chance to escape my grasp. “I was wondering if you’re planning on doing an Opera anytime soon--I have only heard recordings of your work, but I’d love to see you in concert.”

Whatever contempt he had for me, whatever rage he had for interrupting his flirting, was gone. He smiled. “Ah, a music fan are you?”

“I like good music.”

“Explains your interest in my opera,” he said dryly, but he clearly was in no rush to end our talk. “I have in fact been contemplating a performance in the near future--but my work hasn’t given me the time, sadly.”

“Quite sad. But, you know, what I’d love to see is for you to perform an original opera.”

That took him off guard. “Original?” he asked, surprised.

“Sure,” I continued. “You’ve written some great holonovels, and you have some great experiences from your time on Voyager. Why not write an Opera about Voyager?”

“That’s not a bad idea,” he said, looking genuinely interested. Vain The Doctor very clearly was. “But so many things happened--I’m not sure what I’d write about.”

The lump in my throat felt like it was going to choke me. “What about Tuvix?”

He looked me dead in the eyes.

“Why Tuvix?”

“It seems like such a great drama,” I continued, still unbearably nervous, hoping my voice didn’t waiver. “A captain forced to choose the life of two good friends or one newly created being--”

“It was a hard choice,” The Doctor said immediately. “I do not know if she made the right choice or not, and I fear thinking about it too much would screw up my programming.”

“So you weren’t part of it?” I asked, even if I already knew the answer.

“When I found out how we could separate them, I didn’t know how much of an individual Tuvix had become,” The Doctor said. I noticed he’d made the wine glass in his hand disappear. “I didn’t have my mobile emitter, and not many people were in sickbay those few weeks. Of course there was Kes, but Kes didn’t want to talk about Tuvix, so I didn’t know he’d developed a life.” He seemed frozen for a moment, a look of pain on his face. “If I had known, I wouldn’t have kept going with my research, and I would not have told the Captain about it.”

This was big. The Doctor clearly felt some responsibility for Tuvix’s death, and he clearly saw it as a murder. And The Doctor was not the type for subterfuge or guile; he wore his emotions on his sleeve, and he was clearly telling the truth.

If anyone was Tuvix’s murderer, it was not The Doctor.

“Doctor, I wonder if you could do me a favor.”

Chapter 10

I had honestly thought the party was a complete success. I’d made progress with The Doctor, and Lauren had had a good time. We didn’t talk much throughout the evening, but I did see her chatting with several people at the party.

When we got home, I quickly discovered how wrong I was.

“You should have told me,” Lauren said with a frown. She didn’t seem angry--more disappointed, as if I had let her down.

“Told you what?” I was genuinely confused.

“Think about it from my perspective,” she continued. “For the last two months I’ve been alone every weekend while you’ve been globetrotting on the most romantic vacations possible with another woman.”

“Romantic?”

“Florence, Venice, Paris,” she continued. “You should have warned me just how beautiful Tora was. I’m not accusing you of infidelity, but you didn’t prepare me at all. I feel like a fool.”

“You know she’s Bajoran,” I said, feeling a pang of guilt at my own racism. The stereotype that all Bajoran women are beautiful and all men handsome was a bit naff, but in my limited experience it had seemed true.

“Yes, but I didn’t know she was so young...or flirtatious.”

“I don’t think she’s flirtatious at all--”

“Give me a break, Jason,” she said curtly. “She was flirting with everyone at the party, even me.”

I sat down on the couch and looked outside--the lake was extremely still that night, glowing in the sunlight. “She’s never flirted with me, I swear.”

“If you want me to trust you, you have to be honest with me, and this is not honesty.”

That worried me. Lauren and I had been dating for a while now, and we’d lived together for almost six months. I genuinely loved her and had come to assume we would stay together for many years, if not the rest of our lives. Her wit, charm, and intelligence were all captivating, and I had no desire to lose her. Especially over some silly spat of jealousy over another woman whom I had no interest in and who had no feelings for me. This had to be nipped in the bud.

“Lauren, I promise you, my work with Tora has been just that--work. Correspondents of the Ambassador are legally obligated to improve diplomatic relations with--”

“Don’t give me that crap,” she said flippantly. “There’s a galactic crisis with billions of refugees from the Romulan Empire, and you’re busy eating gelato with a pretty young girl at the steps of the Trevi Fountain?” When she put it that way, I felt equal parts silly and stupid. And I also felt that I was doing Lauren a disservice.

She had to know the truth.

So I did something I should not have done. I did something illegal. And my lawyer will hate that I am admitting this, but you already know it is true and I refuse to lie when my cause is just. Sure, I told her about Tuvix; I told a non-Starfleet officer secret information. I had her read the record I’d saved illegally on my personal padd. I betrayed my oath, my loyalty to Starfleet, and everything I am supposed to believe in. At the time I did not expect this to get me into trouble--and, in a way, it didn’t, as my current circumstances are the result of many, many more grievous sins. You could say they all started with this one.

But no matter what Starfleet says about loyalty, that loyalty must be earned--constantly earned by an institution that must prove to each of its members that it is worthy of that loyalty. If Starfleet fails to do the right thing, it deserves to be betrayed.

So I betrayed it.

“I haven’t been telling you everything, Lauren, and I’m sorry. Sit down. Let me tell you the full truth. And I’m not sure if you’ll be relieved or angry--you’ll probably just think I’m crazy--but you need to know everything.”

She sat down.

“Firstly, I have no interest in Tora,” I said immediately. “I do like her as a person, as she’s quite smart and funny and has a fascinating life story--I didn’t know Bajor still had a capitalist society! Imagine having to work to eat. But that does not mean I want to have sex with her or ever did. I love you and only you. But,” I continued without pause, “you may be wondering why I am spending so much time as a personal guide, especially when this is such a banal task that an intern could do--or better yet, send her off to one of the many tour services for off-world tourists. I have wanted to get close to Tora for tonight: to get to meet The Doctor.”

“But why? You don’t care about celebrities.”

“I don’t,” I replied, “but I do care about someone who died many years ago. You see, when Voyager was in the Delta Quadrant there was a transporter anomaly that resulted in a new and wholly unique individual being created: his name was Tuvix. He lived for several weeks aboard Voyager and was a beloved crew member. But he had been created by fusing two crew members together--”

“Tuvix, oh I get it. Tuvok and Neelix?”

“Exactly.”

“That’s just plain cute,” she said, a brief smile belying her previous jealousy.

“Right, so Tuvok and Neelix died on the transporter platform, but Tuvix was born. Then weeks later when The Doctor found a way to reverse the--”

“So they brought Neelix and Tuvok back--”

“By killing Tuvix, yes,” I said. “Tuvix didn’t consent to the procedure. At least that’s what The Doctor told me. And I don’t know what the other crew members had to say about it--if anyone tried to protect Tuvix or not. But I have reason to believe that, both legally and morally, Admiral Janeway murdered a sentient being in cold blood and has not been brought to justice for that.”

“That’s...weird,” was all Lauren could muster after a pause.

“Yes, I know it’s weird, but you have to think about it: what if one day someone showed up and said to you, ‘Lauren, you’re actually a combination of two people--I don’t know, Laurel and Jen. And now we’re going to split you into those two people because that’s what we want and you have no say over the matter.”

“That’s horrific,” she said.

“Exactly.”

“But,” Lauren replied immediately, “Janeway is beloved. She’s set the Borg back more than anyone in the Federation, and by all accounts she worked tirelessly to bring Voyager home.”

“I don’t dispute any of that,” I said, “but it doesn’t excuse this act of homicide if, in fact, it went down the way I think it did. And The Doctor seemed to confirm that to me, at least in part.”

“Still,” she continued, “why should you meddle in this? Why not go to security--”

“An entry-level law clerk accuses one of the most decorated admirals in Starfleet of being a murderer?” I laughed. “You realize how much that will blow back on me.”

She nodded. “You’d need more evidence.”

“And that’s why I need you to be patient with me,” I said. “I’m going to need to take some more trips--I need to talk to more of the Voyager crew to see what happened. Was he pinned down, kicking and screaming? Was there an attempt at a mutiny? The record is sparse on details, and there is a lot that might have happened with regards to this case. Some of that background could help build a viable case that I could then produce and bring ahead of the Attorneys General Office.”

“I see,” she said, but I could tell there was a bit of doubt in her voice. And I could tell she was looking at me differently--in a way, this seemed worse than jealousy. She might not think I was crazy, not quite yet, but she also didn’t seem eager to go along with my flight of fancy. And what she said next made it clear she did not approve of my quest at all.

“If you pursue this, you could still be putting your career at risk. Wasting time on a frivolous pursuit, leveraging the ambassador office resources for this--you could be putting yourself in danger.”

“Small price to pay to avenge the cold blooded murder of an innocent man,” I said steely.

She had nothing to say to that, but the mood had definitely shifted in the house. She was no longer worried about infidelity--at least not to another woman. But she was beginning to think I was no longer the same man she had fallen in love with.

And, of course, she was right.