Star Trek Voyager: Unworthy Page 31

  “No,” he assured her, shaking his head slowly. “My past experiences with the woman we call Valerie Archer were, on the whole, fascinating and productive. I believe to this day that we share much more in common with Species 8472 than they will ever willingly acknowledge. And seeing Willem struggle in open space, so desperate to reach his home … I felt nothing but compassion. There were days when we were first thrown into the Delta quadrant where it seemed we were floundering just as hopelessly and I would have been grateful to find aid from any friendly quarter. I didn’t know for certain that I could make Valerie understand, but I didn’t doubt for a moment that it was the right thing to do.” After a moment he added, “But I can only imagine how painful it was for you to watch.”

  Meeting his eyes with as much openness as she could muster she replied, “It was, though probably not in the way you might imagine.”

  “How so?”

  Eden shrugged beneath the complicated emotions still unsettled within her. “He betrayed all of us, but I must admit, I took his actions a little more personally than I imagine the rest of you did.”

  “Of course you did,” Chakotay said.

  “Even though my heart felt the same compassion yours did, my head wasn’t as easy to convince,” Eden said. “Part of me wasn’t sure he deserved our sympathy.”

  “I know what that’s like,” Chakotay agreed. “Once Seska revealed her true nature and joined the Kazon, I suffered the tortures of the damned wondering how I could have been so stupid as to believe in her. But that didn’t mean I was happy to see her die, even after she assaulted me, lied to me, and left me and my crew for dead on the barren wasteland of a planet.”

  “And now that we know he conspired with Meegan to make his escape, I’m willing to grant him even less,” Eden added.

  “We’ll probably never know the circumstances of that illfated alliance,” Chakotay conceded. “But I’m inclined to believe that he might not have had much choice in the matter.”

  “I’ll guess we’ll have to ask Meegan when we find her.”

  “Most definitely,” Chakotay agreed.

  “Willem played all of us against each other to cover his tracks, and succeeded in making me believe, at least for a little while, that you were the real threat. I should have known better.”

  “No, you shouldn’t have,” Chakotay countered.

  “I …”

  “Captain, you knew him for years. You’ve known me almost no time at all. He’d already earned your trust. Though I’m assuming you no longer think the worst of me, I don’t blame you for taking your time. All you had to go on was my word.”

  “And an outstanding Starfleet record and the faith of your former crew which they were quick to voice as often as doubts about your intentions were raised,” Eden said.

  Chakotay smiled faintly.

  “That record has seen better days,” Chakotay acknowledged. “And, my recent resignation probably didn’t make it any easier for you to determine exactly where my loyalties lay.”

  Eden pulled herself forward. “Why did you resign?” she asked.

  “Starfleet and I have always had a challenging relationship,” he said, smiling. “It was easy to forget that serving with Kathryn. She always represented what was best in the organization—its passionate ideals, its curiosity and determination. Once we returned and she was promoted, I started to see that those were her attributes and I suppose I took Command’s ability to settle time and again in the name of political expediency a little harder than I should have. When she died, I lost sight of those ideals completely until I remembered that being a leader was never about Starfleet for Kathryn; it was always about the people she led. I could accept Starfleet’s decision to take Voyager from me. It was predictable. But that didn’t mean I could abandon my people. Seven’s circumstances were unique. To have assumed command of another vessel and left her to fend for herself was not an option. I did the only thing I could do at the time.”

  “Do you regret it?” Eden asked.

  “Not a bit.”

  Eden rose from her chair and moved behind her desk to retrieve a padd. “I’m sorry to hear that,” she replied enigmatically.

  Chakotay stared at her, puzzled.

  “We made contact with the Esquiline three days ago. Along with Achilles and Curie, they have successfully established our communications link to the Alpha quadrant. Using the relays they dropped, we are able to maintain contact with the Alpha quadrant and even in the deepest reaches of the Delta quadrant we should suffer nothing more than a seventy-two-hour delay.”

  “That’s quite an accomplishment,” Chakotay said, though his consternation remained clear.

  “I took the opportunity to make a full report of our first mission to Admiral Montgomery, including the loss of Admiral Batiste, and have just received our new orders.”

  Chakotay nodded for her to continue.

  “Before you left Earth to rendezvous with us, did you receive confirmation from Starfleet Command that your resignation had been accepted?”

  Chakotay considered the question. “No,” he finally replied.

  “Why not?”

  “I guess I assumed it was a mere formality, and I was a little busy at the time.”

  A slight smile teased Eden’s lips. “It wasn’t.”

  “Well, surely by now …” Chakotay began.

  “At this moment Starfleet is short capable officers in all areas,” Eden cut him off. Offering him the padd she continued, “I was asked to advise you that your resignation was not, in fact, accepted.”

  A number of emotions tumbled across Chakotay’s bemused face as he scanned the padd’s contents.

  “In Batiste’s absence, I have been given a field commission of fleet commander, though I still retain the rank of captain. That leaves Voyager without a captain. I have been authorized to offer you that command once again and I do so with every hope that you will reconsider your decision and accept the position.” Dropping the formal tone, Eden crossed back to stand before him and he rose automatically to face her.

  “You said you could never abandon your people,” she continued cautiously. “I hope that’s still the case because they need you on this mission. What’s more, I need you, Captain.”

  Eden searched his eyes for an affirmative response as the silence between them stretched out over too many tense seconds.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Chakotay paused for a moment before entering the mess hall. He knew well what awaited him on the other side of the doors and, as always, found it difficult to imagine enjoying any celebration convened specifically in his honor. Memories of previous parties held in this room drifted through his mind’s eye, particularly those that had taken place when Kathryn had commanded Voyager . At the time, those celebrations had felt a little like whistling in the dark. Everyone had grown accustomed to the cloud hanging over them—their return to the Alpha quadrant was probably going to take a lot longer than any of them hoped. And as each new danger was met and conquered, as comrades were lost and new faces added, it was easy to imagine that they were making the most of the hand they had all been dealt. Neelix had been an amazing host, almost assaulting his guests with food and drinks meant to banish for a few hours the often more grim reality that awaited them when they returned to duty. But once Voyager had made it home and so many of her crew had scattered, it had somehow become impossible to recapture the camaraderie that had sustained them during those seven years together.

  Standing just outside the range of the door’s sensors, Chakotay decided that the time had come, once and for all, to put the past behind them. There was important work to be done. Though he had willingly accepted his need to leave Starfleet to do what he thought he must, part of him was grateful that he had not been forced to wander too deeply into the wilderness alone. There would most certainly be new trials to face in the coming weeks and months, but he would face them with his friends—his family— by his side.

  The uniform he had abandon
ed felt a little more restrictive than he remembered. The pips gleaming on his collar seemed a little heavier than they once had. But his heart was full and his step was light as he entered the mess to find dozens of happy faces turning toward him and a raucous cheer raised along with many glasses lifted in his direction.

  Tom and B’Elanna were the first to hurry toward him, their smiles beaming. He immediately extended his arms to take Miral from B’Elanna. As the child began to tug at his shiny pips Tom said, “It’s good to have you back, Captain.”

  “Is it possible I’m holding my future captain’s assistant in my arms?” Chakotay asked as he grinned at B’Elanna.

  “She’s yours if you want her,” B’Elanna replied, “but I’m telling you now, she’s more trouble than she’s worth.”

  “P’tak!” Miral cried out gleefully.

  “Miral!” B’Elanna shushed her in wide-eyed horror.

  “Just like her mother,” Chakotay teased. As Miral began to squirm and Tom relieved Chakotay of his burden whispering softly to his daughter about words we don’t use around company, Chakotay said, “I understand you’ve decided to go back to work, Commander Torres.”

  B’Elanna blushed slightly as she nodded.

  “I guess I’m not the only one onboard who’s not really ready for retirement,” she replied as Lieutenant Conlon approached their group.

  She immediately extended her hand and said, “Congratulations, Captain Chakotay. I look forward to serving with you.”

  “As do I, Lieutenant,” Chakotay replied, shaking her hand lightly. “B’Elanna has been singing your praises for weeks, as has Captain Eden.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Conlon replied.

  “He’s lying about one thing,” B’Elanna quickly interjected.

  Conlon’s face fell into curious lines as she turned to B’Elanna.

  “I never sing,” B’Elanna explained, which brought an amused chuckle from Conlon.

  “With good reason,” Paris added.

  “Hey!” B’Elanna said, feigning offense and smacking Tom lightly on the back of his head.

  “Are you still excited about having her as your fleet chief?” Tom quizzed Conlon.

  “Do you think I’m dumb enough to say otherwise right now?” Conlon shot right back.

  Chakotay was pleased to see their easy banter. It suggested that only after a few tumultuous weeks, the staff had begun to bond. From the corner of his eye, however, he noted Harry, standing well apart from the group and casting only quick glances in his direction.

  “Excuse me, won’t you?” he asked and casually wove his way through the throng toward Harry.

  Chakotay found him engaged in conversation with Ensign Gwyn. The last words he heard were, “… telling you, you really have to try it. I’d be happy to set up the holodeck program for …”

  “Sounds like fun,” Harry tossed back without serious commitment as he turned to greet Chakotay. “Captain,” he said, sounding more than a little strained.

  “Ensign, would you give us a moment?” Chakotay inquired of Gwyn in a tone that clearly left no room for refusal.

  “Of course, Captain,” Gwyn said dutifully, and thankfully without her normal flirtatious undertones.

  Once she was out of earshot, Chakotay said, “Are you all right, Harry?”

  Kim immediately straightened his shoulders and replied, “Of course, sir. It’s good to … uh … I mean I’m glad …”

  “Harry, at ease,” Chakotay ordered.

  Harry deflated a little, though his face remained a mask of concern.

  Chakotay was struck by a sense of unusual sadness. He suddenly wondered if everyone was truly as happy as he was that he was once again in command of Voyager.

  “I know that the last several months we served together weren’t my best days,” Chakotay said sincerely. “And I’m probably a little late in offering my apologies directly to you. I know you suffered terribly after the battle at the Azure Nebula, and I was as relieved as anyone to hear that you pulled through. I don’t know what else I can say, but if you ever want to talk about it, I’m here.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Harry said a little more warmly.

  A heavy pause hung between them. Finally Chakotay placed a hand on Kim’s shoulder and added, “You’ve never failed in your duty to me or this ship and I want you to know how much I appreciate that and will continue to count on it in the days to come.”

  “Then Tom didn’t tell you?” Harry asked out of the blue.

  “Tell me what?”

  “I’m putting in for a transfer to the Esquiline.”

  Chakotay’s heart sank.

  “May I ask why?”

  “I’m surprised you have to,” Harry replied.

  “Harry, it’s me,” Chakotay said, searching the young man’s dark eyes. “Whatever is bothering you, I’m sure we can work it out.”

  “After I told Captain Eden that I agreed you were most likely the one sabotaging the ship, I’m surprised you think there’s anything to discuss,” Kim said.

  This revelation hit Chakotay like a blast of cold water to the face. “You had good reason to think so,” he finally replied. “Trust isn’t something I take for granted. I know it has to be earned, and I hope you’ll give me the opportunity to regain yours.”

  “I appreciate that, sir,” Kim said, obviously taken aback, “but I still think it would be best for everyone involved if I went ahead and transferred now.”

  Chakotay truly couldn’t imagine what would have led Harry to this place. For ten years, his had been such a positive and reassuring presence on the bridge. Chakotay doubted he understood the depth of the loss Harry was asking him to contemplate.

  “What does Tom say?” Chakotay asked.

  “I haven’t discussed it with Commander Paris,” Harry replied icily.

  A light went on in Chakotay’s head. B’Elanna had mentioned the tension between Tom and Harry since her return, but it seemed beyond comprehension that these two old friends hadn’t come to terms by now.

  “Very well,” Chakotay replied. “I will take it under advisement, but I’m not promising you anything right now.”

  “Sir?” Kim asked. It was true that Chakotay had the right to refuse the transfer, but it was usually not done except under extreme circumstances.

  “We won’t be meeting up with Esquiline for a few more days. In the meantime, I want you to give it some more thought. I don’t want you to go, Harry.”

  “I understand, sir, but I …” Harry began. Under Chakotay’s hard stare, however, he backtracked and finished, “Thank you, sir.”

  “Thank you,” Chakotay replied, then turned and made a beeline toward Counselor Cambridge, who was chatting amiably with Captain Eden.

  Seven and the Doctor were enjoying a fascinating conversation with Doctor Sharak. Perhaps it was his relative newness to Starfleet service, but the novelty of exploration, and the discovery of the Indign in particular, had whetted the Tamarian’s appetite for more. His golden eyes were lively as the Doctor shared Seven’s most recent developments and he turned them on her regularly with penetrating intensity.

  The Doctor had conferred with Sharak about Seven’s catoms, in hopes that together they would be able to test the limits of one another’s thought processes and push each other toward new developments. Seven decided that working in conference with other experts was a skill the Doctor had not mastered until he had worked with the Federation Institute.

  Sharak had taken to the research readily and was amazed at how far Seven had come. She understood his curiosity and had answered his rapid-fired questions as patiently as she could.

  “Then you have resolved not to change your designation to Annika, though you do reject your Borg identity of Seven of Nine as insufficient?” Sharak asked.

  “I do,” Seven replied. “The truth is, neither ‘Annika’ nor ‘Seven’ is an appropriate designation, but both are equally insufficient. I am a human, who was once Borg, and now also am part Caeliar. Only time w
ill tell which, if any, of these pieces of my heritage will prove dominant. It is my intention, however, to focus my continued efforts on exploring the area which I have always found most challenging.”

  “Which is that?” the Doctor asked.

  “My humanity,” Seven replied.

  After a moment, Sharak asked, “Do you believe the Indign will be able to abandon their admiration for the Borg?”

  “Initially I was horrified at the thought of any sentient beings admiring the Borg. But the Indign were not malicious. They were simply naïve. In some ways, their fascination with the Borg was more like my inappropriate adulation of the Caeliar.”

  “That’s news to me, Seven,” the Doctor noted.

  “I have discussed it at some length with Counselor Cambridge, and I’m sure our future discussions will add to my insight. The Caeliar are a powerful race. However, the perfection I once attributed to them does not exist and would be, I believe, a rather boring way to spend eternity.”

  “Alra and Hevra and the well of Irin,” Sharak said, nodding as if he understood completely.

  “I beg your pardon,” the Doctor said.

  “Apologies,” Sharak said, realizing he had lapsed into his native tongue.

  As he began to explain the Tamarian reference, Seven glanced toward Counselor Cambridge, who was staring appraisingly at her. There was something so intent in the look, she was momentarily disarmed. The feeling passed quickly, however, as he returned his attention to Chakotay and Eden.

  Seven felt her heart flutter in her chest. Chiding herself internally, she wondered why a simple look had the ability to elicit such a visceral response. She set the question aside. It was irrelevant to their continued working relationship and might, in fact, hinder her ongoing psychological exploration.

  Peeking toward him again, however, Seven found his eyes searching for hers. Returning her full attention to Doctor Sharak, she found herself smiling faintly.

  The following morning, Tom was the first to arrive on the holodeck. Captain Chakotay—he smiled every time he thought about it—had given him the next three days off. Ostensibly it was to devise a schedule to accommodate the requirements of B’Elanna’s new position and Miral’s needs.