Kathryn Janeway was a woman of her word. When she said she would do something, she did it, to the best possible intention and effort, even if it meant using roundabout or not-so-conventional means.
The problem was, even those means sometimes didn't reveal the answers one looked for.
"I assume you know what I called you here for?" she asked her second-in-command quietly, looking up at him from behind her desk.
He nodded. "Is it also safe to assume it's not good?"
"I searched the Federation database records for entries pertaining to Sara."
"Ah." Now he understood. "Did you find anything to suggest why she might be a telepath?"
“There are numerous comparisons. Betazoids born different than the others, the same as Sara was, telepathic abilities turned on.” Janeway cited. “But none of them have found the peace that she seems to. In fact, they were all hospitalized repeatedly throughout their lives for stress-related symptoms – mania, belligerence. Either they died early deaths or they isolated themselves on remote systems.”
“Died?” Chakotay’s eyebrows raised. “Died from what?”
“Suicide.” She was blunt. “They couldn’t take the stress that they were subjected to.”
“I didn’t know Betazoids weren’t born telepathic,” he said, bewildered.
“They aren’t – abilities develop during adolescent years. Twelve, thirteen, as late as fourteen, as early as ten. Regardless of age, it doesn’t usually occur until an age of comprehension, words, when they can at least understand the noise that gets thrown at them and are able to tell others what they are experiencing.”
“It explains, at least, why she likes to be around the doctor.”
“Or on the holodeck,” Janeway agreed. “If she was born reading minds, and I think she was, it’s actually a typical response – to remove themselves from the noise of others’ thoughts.”
“She’s just so…different,” Chakotay was at a loss. "Did you find anything else that could be of use?"
"Surprisingly little," she activated her console and swung it towards him, displaying a Federation birth record. "She is who she says she is. I confirmed that. Sara Elizabeth Ann Thompson, born June 30 roughly 15 years ago."
Chakotay scrolled down the screen. The usual information was there -- name, date and place of birth, height, weight, eye and hair color, names of the mother and father...
Names of the mother and father.
"See any name that looks familiar there?" Janeway questioned softly.
"Jayden Thompson? That's her father?" Chakotay didn't know what else to say.
"Apparently so, unless someone falsified a birth record, which I find highly unlikely." she affirmed. "Do you remember him from your academy days?"
"Do I," he looked as though he wanted to shudder. "Mean-faced man. His eyes were so cold...others were tough, but I'll tell you, he was one of the toughest. You couldn't please him. Ever. Even scoring perfectly on an exam didn't please him."
"And I thought I was the only one," she mused, shaking her head. "I never thought him capable of having a child, for that matter. But Chakotay, this...this one record...is all I can find."
"What?" he was shocked. "Nothing else? Absolutely nothing?"
"Nothing," she confirmed. "Everything else -- family records, personnel record, classroom logs, personal logs even, they're all sealed. Entering in Sara's full name as a search target pulls up this, and only this. A search on any other subject, her parents' names, even a search for comparable last names pulls up absolutely nothing."
"Even the mother?"
"Even her mother...Corrine." she repeated. "Chakotay -- what the hell is going on here?"
"Don't look at me." he spread his hands. "I have no idea."
“How did you find her?” Janeway was curious.
He smiled. “She stowed away on a shuttle that docked on my ship, that’s how. Hid for a week before anyone found her. People heard noises, scuffling in the tubes, put it down to others doing maintenance work. But soon enough we came to realize that it wasn’t the case.
“We almost found her when she was in the conduits – but she fell down a ladder before anyone could grab her. At the time, we still didn’t know what was going on; for all we knew, we had a Cardassian traitor on board, or a wild animal. She hid under my bed, tried to crawl out when I was already in it. I guess she thought I was asleep, but if she’s telepathic I don’t know how that could have happened. Maybe she just wanted to be found. I don’t know – either way, I found her.”
“And then what?”
“She had a broken wrist, a broken ankle…some cracked ribs. She was skinny as hell, too. Looked like she hadn’t eaten in weeks. I healed her up, fed her, and put her in a spare cot in one of the storage compartments. Next day B’Elanna found out about her and had her fix some panels, places no one else could get their hands into to rewire. She’s really the one that took up the cause for Sara to stay, but it wasn’t that hard.
“I kept her because she couldn’t remember anything. Think about it, Captain – look at how small she is now, and think about her three years ago, though she hasn’t grown all that much from the outside. She’s smart, she’s quiet, she’s…Sara. That’s all I can tell you.”
“And you wanted to keep her safe? By keeping her on a ship of renegades?” Janeway was disbelieving. It just dind’t make sense.
“If I kept her, at least I knew she wasn’t getting hurt somewhere else. More than anything, I think, it was her eyes. Those damned eyes – they were so haunted, and yet her mind was so blank, except for the thoughts she got from others. They would have haunted me for a long time to come if I had sent her away. I was afraid for what would happen to her, from the fact that she didn’t remember, afraid that she’d stumble on to the wrong place or planet and get herself killed, sooner than if she would have stayed with us. Even if she did have parents that were looking, and missed her, I thought that if she stayed – at least until she remembered – then she’d have a better chance of survival than alone in the DMZ.”
Well, that was certainly true. “I’m still…mystified…over these encrypted entries,” Janeway changed the subject, though not entirely. “Do you have any speculations behind them?”
“Is Starfleet trying to cover something up?” he questioned, knowing at once he’d said the wrong thing, the way her shoulders stiffened.
“As much as I don’t like to admit it, there has to be some reason why they didn’t want anyone, even a Captain, to find out what happened…” her voice was quiet.
“What’s it classified?”
“Level Twelve.”
“Level TWELVE?” Chakotay repeated in disbelief. “The only people with that kind of clearance…” he stuttered, “…are top-ranking admirals, the head of Starfleet Command, and the President of the Federation.”
"Starfleet doesn't seal records for any trivial reason," Janeway was adamant. "Especially to the point of practically denying the existence of a person, let alone an entire family, even if Sara was the only child. It's been known to happen, but only in the case of duty, circumstances aboard ship..."
He was at a loss, his dark eyes as confused as her lighter, bluer ones. "What do you suggest we do?"
"What can we do?" she shrugged. "There isn't anything that can be done until Sara regains her memory and tells us what happened, or at least where to look. Until then...it remains as buried as whatever is locked up inside her head."
"Do you think she's lying?"
"No," Janeway shook her head emphatically. "I talked to the doctor. She's telling the truth. No memories of any time in her life before joining the Maquis."
"She didn't just magically appear on my ship," Chakotay countered. "And she didn't just materialize on Bajor."
"The doctor told me that she does remember being on Earth, for a short time, before meeting up with you. But for the most part, it's hazy recollections that no one can put a factual basis on."
"Maybe we should show her this," he suggested. "If we do, or tell her about what we found..."
"No." Again, the Captain was emphatic. "That's another reason I wanted to talk to you. What is said in this room, doesn't go beyond here. You're not to tell Sara one word of what you know. And keep your thoughts on it to a minimum, we all know we don't have to say anything for her to find out a secret."
"Am I allowed to question why?" Chakotay asked.
"According to the doctor, the name traumatic amnesia defines itself. The reason people lose their memories is, as he told us, because of a survival method, a way of blocking out the pain until some time as it chooses to deal with it. The problem is, only that person's body and mind know when they are. It's not for us to make the choice for her -- and it could have devastating results. Coma, death...if we force her in any way to remember, her brain will decide for us that it doesn't. And I for one am not willing to risk her life for answers."
Chakotay blew out his breath, nodding. "I agree. For now I suggest that we concentrate on helping her find a place here, on Voyager, with the rest of us."
"Agreed. I can expect this to be a topic of discussion at tomorrow morning?" she asked.
"You can indeed," he assured her, taking the padd she handed him, leaving without being dismissed.
More mysteries than answers.
Would Sara ever hold anything else? Would she one day regain her memory and be able to tell them everything that had happened to her?
Or would the mysteries be as sealed as the records had been by the Federation, until the day she died?
