The Murdered Sun - Christie Golden [97]
It was again Janeway's turn to continue the narrative. "But about three hundred years ago, the Akerians discovered that the pocket in space that housed Blessing was shrinking at an accelerated rate. They had used the Verunan people for their purposes up to now. Now, they used the Verunan sun."
The next scene that played itself out was a three-dimensional recreation of the incident that Harry Kim had shown her and Tuvok earlier. Once again, the propaganda was trumpeted, and the Akerian ships, linking their generators, siphoned the hydrogen of the Verunan sun into the gaping maw of the concavity.
"It worked, all right," said Janeway. "The concavity stopped shrinking. But the cost was deadly."
"It became Sun-Eater," said Viha Nata, pain making her voice catch.
"Now we know. Now we know that the Akerians deliberately murdered our sun for their own purposes!"
Even in the dim lighting, Janeway saw the empress's eyes flash angrily.
She forestalled the angry retort. "This is the past," Janeway reminded them both sternly. "It cannot be changed. Only the future can be, and if you wish to change it for the better, you must listen and learn--and forgive, both one another and yourselves. Commander?"
"This is where the past merges with the present," continued her first officer. "The Verunans rediscovered their past, learned from it, resolved to fight. You all know what happened from this point. But Captain Janeway is right. You, Viha Nata, are one of the leaders of your people. Empress Riva, the populations of whole planets listen when you speak. Sun-Eater is no more, Nata; but Empress, neither is Blessing.
"But both of you and your people are left," he emphasized.
Janeway watched him, watched how the K'shikkaan descendants all responded to him. He knew how to speak to them.
"Nata, the colony ship Soul is ready to be reactivated. Riva, you have the technologies to help the Verunans in their quest for a new home.
The death of the Verunan sun is still inevitable, but the death of Veruna Four has been postponed a full century.
You come from the same race. You were never, ever, meant to be enemies, but allies--even sisters."
The two leaders, old and young, looked at one another uncomfortably.
"But... it is difficult, letting go of hate," admitted Nata.
Riva hesitated, then offered quietly, "It is more difficult to ask for forgiveness."
Those words hit Janeway almost like a physical blow. Hope made her eyes sting. They were wise, both of these leaders. And that might mean their people--all of them--would survive.
"We, myself and my crew, are members of the United Federation of Planets," said Janeway. "Many worlds, many peoples, gather together.
We have difficulties. Some of us," and here she glanced slyly over at Chakotay, who smiled slightly, "were even on opposite sides for a time.
And take it from me, you don't know what difficult is until you've tried to get multiple races, with no common background save a history of fighting one another, to sit down and hammer out a peace, much less work together side by side."
"But it can be done," said Chakotay, moving to step closer to Janeway.
"We're one crew now. And we've faced a lot of difficulties. You at least have the benefit of being of the same race with the same heritage."
"I am," said Nata, "reminded of the tale of the starving man. He wanders from house to house, begging for food."
"And only the poorest man fed him, giving him the last yissh fruit he had," chimed in Riva--the keeper of the Word, Janeway recalled, feeling gooseflesh rise on her skin beneath her uniform. "But from the seeds that remained after the two had shared the fruit, a glorious orchard grew that fed the whole