Protocols Unknown: A Decision of The Stars

Lines We Cross

The ready room was quiet when they entered. The soft hum of the ship was ever-present, a familiar rhythm beneath the silence. Kathryn stood near the viewport, Astrea in her arms, the child nestled quietly against her chest. One small hand rested at the collar of her mother's uniform, fingers curling absently with the calm of deep trust.

Janeway didn't look up when the doors parted to admit Kashyk, escorted by Tuvok. She nodded once. "Thank you, Commander. That'll be all."

Tuvok's brow lifted by a fraction, but he inclined his head. "I will be outside the door."

When it shut behind him, Kashyk remained still, observing. Hands behind his back, posture straight but not confrontational.

"You wanted to speak?" Janeway asked, her voice low.

He nodded. "Privately. I thought it might matter more if we weren't both pretending."

Janeway arched a brow. "Are we?"

He stepped forward slowly, eyes drifting to the child in her arms. "She's calm."

"She's observant," Janeway corrected. "And she doesn't miss much."

Kashyk studied Astrea for a long moment. He didn't speak to her. Didn't try to close the space. But something shifted in his expression, just enough for Janeway to see it.

Kashyk watched her for a long moment, too long.

Then, almost to himself: "Do you know what she is?"

Janeway didn't answer. But her arms tightened slightly. She adjusted her stance, signaling something quiet and unyielding. Protection, without ceremony.

Kashyk's eyes tracked it. He nodded, not to her, but to the moment.

He stepped closer, eyes still on Astrea, the shift inward, an old instinct reawakening. "I didn't say anything," he murmured. "But she still answered."

Silence stretched thin between them.

He turned slower now, the weight of the truth catching up to the shape of it. "She's telepathic."

Janeway still said nothing.

Kashyk didn't flinch. Didn't raise his voice. But Janeway saw it—the way his shoulders lowered, the sharpness of his jaw easing.

"They'd destroy her. You know that."

Janeway's presence stayed steady. She didn't look away. She didn't blink.

Astrea finally looked up. Her eyes didn't flinch from Kashyk's. She blinked once, then pressed her face back into her mother's shoulder.

The silence settled. Something different now. Less threat, more gravity.

Kashyk's voice dropped, rough now. "They took her before because they knew. They didn't know how, not then. But they felt it. You think they wanted her for leverage? For pressure? They wanted her because she wasn't just a bargaining chip. She was the key to something."

Janeway's grip tightened.

Kashyk took one more step forward. "You think this was an accident?"

Janeway's stance shifted. Her back straightened, chin lifted. Controlled fury radiated from her in waves, but she didn't explode. She contained. Then her voice, low but lethal: "You're wrong. If you think for one moment that I'll stand here and entertain some Devore epiphany, you've forgotten who I am."

Kashyk met her gaze. "I spent twenty years hunting telepaths. I know the signs."

She finally moved, walking around her desk with Astrea still in her arms, settling the child gently on her hip. Her tone shifted, colder, sharper. "You didn't come here to warn me. You came to confirm what you already knew."