The Favor
by VoyWriter

Paramount was given a land grant to StarTrek and mineral rights to the characters
– Janeway, Chakotay, et all and all associated StarTrek business – but despite
manifest destiny, we persevere. There is no final frontier.

Please send all feedback to VoyWriter@aol.com

Kathryn Janeway was surprised to find Chakotay waiting in the hall when she
rounded the corridor to Samantha Wildman’s quarters. The Ensign had asked for a
half hour of Janeway’s time to discuss something important. Apparently she had
wanted Voyager’s First Officer as well as Captain to be present.

“Commander,” Janeway nodded a greeting to Chakotay.

“Captain…” He was clearly as surprised as by her presence as she was by his.

“Did Samantha give you any indication as to what this is all about?” Janeway
wondered.

Chakotay shook his head. “Not a clue,” he told her. “I rang for her already. It
sounded like she said just a minute, but the screaming was pretty loud. I think she
had her hands full with our youngest crew member,” he grinned.

At that moment a harried looking Samantha Wildman appeared in the opening
doorway. The baby was still screaming and Samantha shifted her from arm to
arm, patting her back, but to no avail.

“Perhaps we should come back, Samantha,” Janeway suggested loudly.

“No. Please. Come in. I know how busy your schedules are. She’ll calm down in a
minute or two. Samantha managed to usher them in between the screams.

Janeway and Chakotay sat on either end of the couch while Samantha took the
chair opposite, the baby on her knee.

“She’s getting her tongue scales,” Samantha apologized, rubbing her hand on the
baby’s back in an effort to soothe her. “It happens very early with Ktarins, well
before her teeth or roof crest,” she explained, “and it’s quite painful.”

“Have you tried a gel pack – not quite frozen?” Chakotay suggested, reaching out
to brush a finger along the baby’s cheek.

Janeway gave him a look that might have been surprise or amusement.

“Nothing the Doctor gave us worked, but Kes suggested the same thing,”
Wildman sighed. “I guess it’s worth a try. If you wouldn’t mind waiting, maybe I
could get her calmed down and we might be able to have some quiet.”

As Wildman left for the nursery with her daughter, Janeway raised a quizzical
eyebrow at her First Officer. “Just a little something you picked up in the Maquis,
Commander?” she asked dryly.

“The galaxy is full of children, Captain,” was his soft unrevealing reply.

Janeway caught her breath at the unexpected response, struck yet again by how
much she had to learn about this man. He was not a simple read – more than the
sum of his parts.

She had breached some of his mystery during their stay on New Earth, but clearly
there was more to learn.

“It worked almost immediately,” a grateful Wildman announced as she returned
to the room alone. “I put her down for a nap.”

She retook the chair opposite the couch and folding her hands nervously.

“I want to thank you for coming,” Samantha began. “And I’ll try not to take too
much of your time.”

“Take whatever time you need Samantha,” Janeway offered graciously.

“What I have to ask you is very important – important to me,” she said. “You may
have heard that I’ve set a date for the christening and decided on a ceremony…”

“And you’d like me to officiate,” Janeway realized. “Of course, I’d be…”

“No. Well. That’s not it. Tuvok is going to perform the ceremony.”

“Tuvok,” Janeway repeated. “Fine. Well, then?”

Thus far Chakotay had said little. “Is there some other ceremony or tradition
practiced by your people or the Ktarins that you would like us to help with?” he
wondered.

Samantha took a deep breath. “What I’d like…What I’m trying to ask – is I would
like for you to be my daughter’s godparents. Would you consider it?”

Janeway sat in surprised silence. Chakotay spoke first, leaning forward to take
Samantha’s hands in his own.

“This is an important decision, Samantha, and a great honor” he said softly. “I
know you have close friends here on Voyager…”

She nodded. “It’s true, Commander, there are some of the crew I’m very close to,
but they’re not who I’m choosing. I’ve given this a lot of thought and I think the
two of you could do the best job raising my daughter if the days comes when I
can’t.”

“Tell us why, Samantha,” Janeway asked gently. “I mean there must be couples…”
she stopped, glancing pointedly at Chakotay.

“There are several couples who would love her and raise her as their own,”
Samantha admitted. “But I don’t want her raised as someone else’s child. I want
her raised as mine – as human and Ktarin.”

She rose and knelt before Chakotay. “Commander, there may not be anyone else
on this ship who understands the importance of heritage and traditions the way
you do. That’s why I’m asking you.”

“And Captain…” Samantha edged onto the couch beside Janeway. “There’s no one
who will fight more fiercely to do what’s good and right for her – that’s why I’m
asking you.”

Wildman stood and faced them both. Janeway was visibly touched, her eyes moist
and fluid. Chakotay’s expression was both tender and protective. It was exactly
the reaction Samantha had hoped for – anything less would have caused her to
question her decision.

“I know this is a surprise – maybe even a shock -” Samantha said. “I don’t expect
an answer right now. What I would like is for you to think about it, discuss it, and
then tell me your answer. If either of you feels uncomfortable, or if it’s too much
of a burden, I’ll understand and I’ll find another way, but I hope you will accept,
and that you’ll agree to raise her together if anything should happen to me.”

Janeway glanced from Chakotay to Wildman. “When do you want our answer,
Samantha?” she asked quietly.

“The christening is in three days. I know I’m not giving you much time, but if you
could tell me by tomorrow evening, it would give me enough time to make other
arrangements if you say no.”

Janeway nodded. “We’ll have an answer for you by tomorrow night.”
“Commander?” she looked questioningly at Chakotay.

“Tomorrow night will be fine, Captain. Samantha.”

Both Captain and First Officer rose and took their leave, walking in silence to the
turbolift, even this decision a burden, let alone should they actually have to take
on the responsibility for the rearing of a child.

As the lift started moving, Janeway finally spoke. “Well, Commander?”

“I don’t think this can be decided in a turbolift,” he replied.

“Agreed,” Janeway said. “I suggest you come to my quarters when our shift is
over. We can at least have some discussion over dinner and that will give us the
night to consider it and tomorrow if we need to talk about it further.”

Chakotay nodded. “Fine.” And then he said. “You know it is a great honor…”

Janeway grinned. “Surprised the hell out of me, too, Commander.”

The door chime sounded some twenty minutes after shift’s end. Janeway had used
the time to change from her uniform to a comfortable tunic and tights. When
Chakotay entered she saw he had off duty clothes on as well – loose pants and a
belted shirt, cuffs rolled up and the neck open.

“Come in, Commander,” Janeway called, pulling two steaming plates from a
stasis tray Neelix had left. “I hope you don’t mind vegetable stir fry. I promised
Neelix I’d be his guinea pig.”

Chakotay grinned. “There’s not much even Neelix can do to vegetables” he said
optimistically.

They both found out how wrong that assumption was. Quansi fruit and vegetables
definitely did not mix. “Soup and sandwiches from the replicator?” Janeway
suggested as they tactfully dumped Neelix’s feast down the recycling bin.

“Soup is fine,” Chakotay told her.

“Good. That’s enough for me, too,” she said, calling up a creamy cheese vegetable
soup that was as close to her mother’s recipe as she could remember.

“So how did you know that little trick with the gel pack?” Janeway asked when
they were finally settled at the small table near her desk, soup before them.

Chakotay blushed. Janeway found it charming.

“Babysitting,” he revealed. “My father insisted I learn how to care for the little
ones – that we all learn. It was considered a community responsibility,” he
remembered, “and I told my father that men didn’t take care of children.” A rueful
smile tipped his lips.

Janeway nearly choked on her soup. “From what you’ve told me about him, I can
just imagine his response. Was he furious?”

“Disappointed is more like it. It was a damned stupid thing to say, but I really felt
that way at the time.”

“What did he say?”

“He said I needed to understand there is no pleasure without responsibility.” A
faint blush rose again.

“Sound advice,” Janeway nodded approvingly.

“Not what a very contrary fourteen year-old boy with raging hormones wants to
hear,” Chakotay laughed, “but yes, sound advice. I agree. And the lesson caring
for the little ones was even more valuable,” he added.

“Really? Even at 14?” Surprise registered in her voice.

“Actually, I came to consider my time caring for them to be very important,”
Chakotay told her.

“In what way?” Janeway asked, frankly curious. She hadn’t considered children
herself – her career was demanding and fulfilling – but somehow she could see
Chakotay with children of his own – gentle and nurturing, teasing and comforting.
It was a surprisingly vivid vision and left her feeling oddly isolated.

“To be honest,” Chakotay was saying, “before that time I was a fairly selfish
child. I saw the world only from my own view.”

“Don’t you think that’s natural for children – to be somewhat myopic?” Janeway
interjected.

“I think I was more self-involved than most,” he said frankly. “That’s one reason
my father struggled so hard to make me understand the traditions and heritage of
my people.”

“To give you perspective.”

“Yes. He said once he wanted me to understand I wasn’t the only star in the sky.
There’s actually a story that goes with that.”

He flashed a quick grin. She had enjoyed his stories on New Earth. It had become
something of a ritual. He would generally cook dinner. They would eat together,
usually outside, and clean up and then he would tell her a story. It was often the
first and only time of the day when both weren’t busy with camp duties or off to
their own pursuits.

Janeway’s eyes widened in pleasure at the memories as well. Those evenings had
been so idyllic, she almost found it hard to believe it had been her life, rather than
some fantasy. The reality of it faded more as time passed and she welcomed the
chance to recapture it, if only for an evening – and to learn more about the
complex man before her.

“I’ve missed your stories,” she told Chakotay softly. “If you’re finished, I suggest
we move to more comfortable chairs. It’s been a long day.”

In a faint imitation of earlier days, they cleared the dishes and settled in her
informal sitting room, the slashing viewport window commanding a view of
space beyond.

Janeway took one end of the couch, tucking her feet up reflexively, settling back
against the cushions. Chakotay sat on the floor, cross-legged, leaning against the
coffee table so he could see her as he spoke.

“Ready?” he asked.

She nodded and closed her eyes to listen, imagining them back on New Earth,
soft winds rustling the trees, the freshness of the forest scenting the air,
Chakotay’s soft tones warming the air.

“Legends say,” he began in his calm, soothing voice, that mother earth created the
stars to hold the sky in place at night, when the weight of darkness threatened to
crash it down around us.

She had made the clouds, too, but they could not bear the burden alone in the
dark and so the stars joined them.

Each star is like a pole in a teepee, or a beam in a house, or,” he smiled at her, “a
pin in a coil of hair, holding the sky in place. And all the stars must equally bear
the burden lest one bit of the sky begin to tremble from some weak point. And all
must know that none is more important than another for all the sky must be borne
up not just a single point.

Some of the stars joined to make a web that was stronger than each by itself and
these became our constellations. Sometimes a star will fail, because it cannot
bear the burden alone, and it will fall back to mother earth or lose it’s sparkle and
dim and fade.

That the stars might shine at all in the sky was a gift from mother earth so all
would recognize their efforts and sacrifice. And in the day, they are permitted to
rest so they can gather their strength for the burden each night.

For many millennia, the stars all worked in concert to keep the sky in place. And
then there came a time when one star decided that he should shine as a sun,
brighter and bigger than any star in the sky, and so he abandoned his task, filled
with self-importance. And when he left, the sky trembled and broke from his
absence and the shards would have fallen to earth had the clouds not been there to
catch them.

But this willful act angered the clouds and so even today they will hurl these
shards to earth as bolts of light, charged with their fury.”

Janeway smiled softly. He had a wonderful way with words and imagery and his
voice was a warm blanket against the cold world.

She uncurled her legs and reached out to touch his sleeve. “That was lovely.
Thank you.”

He grinned. “It was told to me as a lesson of what might happen should I fail to
control my willful pride and selfish ways. It was a fable about arrogance and the
importance of community and the sharing of burdens.”

Janeway shook her head – selfish was not a word she would use to describe
Chakotay. Proud, yes. But not arrogant nor selfish. She told him so.

“I’m a different person now, Kathryn,” he said slipping easily into the comfortable
relationship they had enjoyed on New Earth, using her first name unconsciously.

She still liked the sound of it, hearing it, being Kathryn not Captain for a while.

“What changed you?” she asked.

“Other than life itself?” he grinned and then his expression grew serious. “I
learned that I’m not the only star in the sky,” he said intently. “And looking back, I
realize I learned some of that from those children my father insisted I care for.
Their dependence forced me to see beyond myself.”

“And after that. Did it cause you to want children of your own?”

“It’s a tremendous responsibility,” he said frankly. “It scared the hell out of me
when Seska said her baby was mine.”

Janeway nodded. “We tend to organize our lives,” she said thoughtfully,” and they
become so directed that there’s not room or time for anything beyond what we’ve
planned. A child-” or a lover, she thought “-threatens to disrupt all that careful
planning.”

“I was angry at Seska for what she had done – for what she had stolen from me. I
didn’t feel ready to take on a child I hadn’t even participated in making,” he said.
“I wanted it to be my own choice – who and when – that free will is what I really
thought she took from me. But I realized that was my own burden and it wasn’t
fair to project it on the child.”

“You never told me how you came to the decision to go after the baby,” Janeway
said, rising and walking to the counter where a thermos held hot tea. She offered
him a mug and he started to get up to accept it.

“Stay,” she motioned him back. “You look comfortable. Besides, I owe you for a
few meals on New Earth. Just a little honey?” she remembered.

He nodding, watching her return with the mug. She looked utterly relaxed, yet
exuded life and strength and vibrancy that both charmed and seduced him.

His expression still held that wonder when she handed him the mug of tea and the
intensity of it caught them both off guard a moment.

“Thank you<" he said finally. "The tea." She busied herself stirring the honey into her mug. She was still reeling from the raw emotion in his gaze. It made her throat ache with unfulfilled promise. She drew herself in, emotionally and physically. "You were going to tell me about your decision to go after Seska's baby." He looked at her frankly for another minute and then averted his eyes, glancing down at his own tea. Whatever was happening between them had to be her prerogative, her initiative - and she was simply not ready. He called on reserves of patience that went as deep as his passion and when he looked up at her again, he gaze was calm and steady and as impersonal as he could manage. He picked up the thread of the story and began to answer her question. "After you and I talked about rescuing the child, I returned to my quarters and contacted my spirit guide and through my guide, my father." "You asked his advice?" "Actually, I vented my frustrations on him," Chakotay replied dryly, stretching and straightening his legs. "And as usual, he presented a different perspective - one that caused me to consider my real objections. I found there was still a selfishness within me." "You were rejecting the baby because it hadn't happened according to your terms." He nodded. "Because the conditions weren't of my choosing - not the mother, not the timing, not the circumstances - and I didn't know if I could get by that." "But you did." "I remembered I was not the only star in the sky," he smiled softly. "Not the brightest. Not the most important. Not the first to shoulder a burden. And I remembered I would not be alone. You had already offered your support. It meant a great deal. A constellation is stronger than a single star." "It was the right decision," she said with certainty. "It almost got us all killed," he countered. "It still balances," she insisted. "Samantha was wise in her choice of you as godparent, you know. You will be a fierce advocate." "And you will keep her grounded in tradition and wisdom," Janeway told him firmly. "But I'm still concerned about the actual obligation should something happen to Samantha. She's asking us to raise the baby together," Janeway said pointedly. "Did you plan to have children?" he wondered, rising to stretch his legs and refill their tea. "No," she said quietly. "I never saw motherhood as my destiny as many of my friends did. It just wasn't part of my expectations." "You would have a lot to offer." "Would I?" It wasn't insecurity that spoke, simply surprise. He laughed at her astonished tone and set his tea aside before crossing to crouch before her. He took her hands in his. "Kathryn you are warm, capable, intelligent - who better as a role model for a child?" "You," she said, the admission surprising them both. He was silent a moment. "I would like children, Kathryn," he told her. "In time. With a woman who wanted to share that part of her life, take on that responsibility with me, share that joy." With you, Kathryn, he added silently, unaware of what his eyes revealed. She reached up and gently touched his cheek. "I think we both need to sleep on this. Samantha doesn't need her answer until tomorrow night. We can talk again tomorrow." He was still holding her hand. He set it gently back in her lap and rose. "Goodnight, Kathryn." "Goodnight, Chakotay." Sleep found Kathryn uneasily that night with dreams of dark eyed sons and daughters and their father just beyond her vision. She held Samantha's baby in her arms and it became her. And when she awoke empty handed, her arms ached for the loss. She spent the day half focused on duty, the dream haunting her. When she met Chakotay after their shift, this time in her ready room to talk, she had decided to tell him about the vision. Confronted with him there before her, she changed her mind. It was too private, too suggestive, too misleading. "Samantha expects us in a half an hour," she said. "We need to make a decision." "I'd like to do it," Chakotay said, sitting casually at his usual spot at the conference table. "We will become ship of families, a community, if we're out here 70 years," he said. "It's inevitable. I think it's important to recognize that. This is a way of doing so, quite publicly." "And on a more personal level, I would like to have connection to this child - it's our first, Kathryn - Voyager's first." She met his gaze without flinching. "I'm inclined to agree, though I'll still admit it scares the hell out of me." Chakotay smiled softly. "Kathryn. I will help you hold the sky." finis

First Child

by VoyWriter

disclaimer: Paramount holds all rights to name and characters.
Please feel free to distribute this electronically intact and without revision.
Permission from the author is required to include it in any anthology or post it on
a web page.

email comments to VoyWriter@aol.com

“There it is,” Kes pointed out excitedly, adjusting the tricorder ever so slightly to
make the tiny heartbeat appear on the medical monitor.

Kathryn reached out and met her fingers to the screen while her other hand
splayed across her still flat belly.

She was filled with a wonderment that defied speech and a quiet joy bubbled
inside her.

Chakotay covered her hand with his own, protectively embracing her and their
child in a gesture so old as to be timeless.

He grinned broadly. “Are you ready for this?” he whispered.

“I’m scared to death,” she replied.

He laughed. “A little late, Kathryn,” and touched his lips to her forehead.

“The pregnancy is progressing normally,” the holodoctor reported as he checked
the detail of the scan. “It’s still very early, of course, but there’s no reason to
expect anything other than a full term healthy baby. I’m glad to see my advice
paid off. Practice does make perfect.”

“Oh, and congratulations,” he added.

“Oh yes!” Kes echoed, hugging them both. “Congratulations both of you. This is
wonderful.”

“I’d like to see you again next week,” the doctor advised. “By comparing today’s
readings with another set I should be able to pinpoint an exact due date.”

Janeway nodded. “All right, Doctor.” Due date. Dear god. She would have this
child. It would be born. It was all suddenly very, very real. Her eyes widened in
alarm.

“Kathryn?” Chakotay’s concerned voice reached her.

“I’m going to be a mother,” she said slowly, comprehension dawning.

He laughed. “Yes, I know,” and guided her into the corridor and toward the
turbolift.

“When we talked about this it all seemed so abstract,” she told him. “And
everything I read-”

“Which was everything in the ship’s entire library,” he said dryly. “Read aloud…”
he added.

She ignored the teasing comment and stepped into the turbolift. “All the books
kept saying what a miracle this is – and I thought, fine, nice trite statement. But it
is you know. And…” she was still talking when they reached the bridge.

“Well?” Tom Paris turned and demanded.

The rest of the bridge crew looked on expectantly.

Janeway raised an eyebrow and silently took the center seat. Chakotay leaned
against the upper railing.

“Status report, Lieutenant,” Janeway ordered evenly of Paris.

“Oh fine – go ahead and torture me,” Tom grumbled. “Just want a little
information here and we’re going to play games…”

Chakotay grinned, a match to Kathryn’s, and then he nodded and winked at her.

She took a breath. “We are officially pregnant,” she announced.

“Well, all right!” Tom pronounced gleefully.

“My congratulations,” Tuvok echoed.

“Wow! That’s great,” Harry managed, slightly awestruck.

Kathryn knelt before the toilet, a towel in hand. In just a week she had gone from
almost no morning sickness to constant nausea.

Chakotay rested a hand on her shoulder. “You ok?

She nodded weakly, looked at the toilet and threw up again. “I can’t believe there
is nothing the doctor can do about this.” she protested snappishly, willing her
stomach to stop heaving.

“One of us needs to get to the bridge,” Chakotay reminded her.

“Fine. You vomit. I’ll go.”

“Kathryn.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, rising and tossing the towel in the recoiling bin. “I’m ok. Go
ahead.” She hadn’t meant to snap. Her hormones were a disaster.

He nodded and pressed his mouth to her temple, touching his hand to her belly
before heading for the door of what a year before had become their quarters
instead of his.

“Have B’Elanna run a check on the port phaser bank,” she called after him. “I
noticed they were sluggish in the simulations yesterday.”

“Aye, Captain,” he called back. “Anything else?”

She felt another wave of nausea draw over her and left the question unanswered
as she dove for the bathroom.

***

“Kathryn, this problem with the phasers is going to take longer than we thought.
Can you reschedule with the doctor?” Chakotay asked, calling up to the bridge
from Engineering.

She’d made it up there an after he had and immediately sent him down to work
with Torres.

“Finish up,” she told him. “I’ll go ahead. This is just to confirm the due date. I
don’t think I need any hand holding quite yet.”

“If you’re sure…”

“Positive. We need those phasers back on line.”

***

The doctor rechecked the medical tricorder and then turned to Kes, shaking his
head. Her eyes filled and she took Janeway’s hand.

“What is it,” Kathryn demanded, instantly alarmed and visibly shaken by Kes’s
reaction.

“I’m sorry. We no longer can discern a heartbeat,” the doctor said gently. “It
appears that the baby is no longer viable. We can wait for your body to naturally
expel the pregnancy or I can give you something to speed the process.”

Kathryn sat up, her hand flattening over her belly. Her head swam. She pushed
her feet to the floor and felt her legs buckle. For the first time in her life, she
fainted.

She awoke to Chakotay, hip touching hers as he sat on the edge of the sickbay
bed, her hand firmly in his grip. His face was wet. He’d been crying she realized.

The doctor was explaining that this was not an uncommon outcome for early
pregnancy – that they could have more children. It was all absurd. Unreal. The
baby was still inside her – therefore it must still be alive.

Chakotay noticed she was awake. “Kathryn? The doctor sedated you.” He pulled
her hand to his face and caressed the knuckles, a sad loving gesture, that brought
tears to Kes’s eyes. She had watched him hear the news from the doctor, seen his
pain, could even feel it.

“We lost the baby,” Kathryn said flatly, a weariness to her voice that cut to the
bone.

“I know Kathryn. I’m sorry.” His voice broke and he drew in a quick breath.

She was numb. Exhausted. Still physically ill with morning sickness. None of this
was fair.

“The doctor wants to know if you want to let your body take care of this naturally
or if he should intervene,” Chakotay asked gently. He would make decision for
her if he could, to ease her pain if he could, but the choice was not his to make. It
was not his body that grew and nurtured and carried their child. He could not
decide it’s path.

Kathryn could not meet his gaze and manage the stoicism she needed – though did
not feel – to survive this. She turned her head to the waiting doctor.

“Do what you need to,” she directed him, and she willed her hand away from her
stomach just as Chakotay’s touched it protectively, one final futile effort.

The procedure was fast and with only slight cramping, relatively painless. The
doctor wanted to see her in 24 hours, but otherwise she was fit for light duty,
although he recommended bed rest.

“You may continue to feel the symptoms of pregnancy for several days,” the
doctor told her. “But it should ease after that and you should feel like your old
self again.”

“Doctor!” Kes hissed at the insensitivity.

“I am simply describing a normal biological process to a fellow scientist,” the
doctor declared, puzzled by Kes’s manner.

“This normal biological process was a child,” she trembled, her voice hushed and
reverent.

“It’s all right Kes,” Janeway appeared at her side, back in uniform. She patted the
younger woman’s shoulder. “The doctor’s right.”

“And as I was telling the Commander,: the doctor sniffed, “you are quite fit
Captain, and there is no reason you will not be able to conceive again and carry a
pregnancy to term.”

“Of course,” she replied automatically. “Thank you, Doctor.” “Commander,” she
turned to Chakotay, “I believe we both have duties…” She headed for the sickbay
door, reached it and crumbled. Chakotay was immediately at her side. He knelt
down and pulled her into his arms, rocking her while she wept – while they wept
together.

After a few moments, the doctor appeared, resting a hand on Chakotay’s shoulder.
“It was delayed shock. I’m sorry. I should have recognized it. And if I seemed
insensitive…”

Chakotay waved him off, a gesture combining forgiveness and dismissal.

“Please,” he said softly. And the doctor for once understood and left them their
privacy.

***

The crew took the news hard. It had been the ship’s child and them all expectant
aunts and uncles. No one knew, though, what to say, or how to act, save Tuvok,
who revealed to Janeway and Chakotay one late evening that he and his wife, too,
had lost a child. Their second. A son. Shortly after birth. He expressed his sorrow
at their loss, offering no other words of well meant, misplaced encouragement or
hope, knowing that time alone would ease their terrible grief.

They worked and ate and slept, mechanically at first, eventually reaching a point
where they were able to gather up the early baby gifts and pack them away in a
wooden box Chakotay had crafted to keep first shoes and first tooth – the data
padd with the tiny heartbeat imprinted on it, a stuffed lion from Tom, a traditional
Ocampan doll from Kes….

And then on the top they laid the pieces of their hopes and dreams for this child
which could not be puzzled back together and the slice of innocence and wonder
which would never again be regained.

Kathryn cried as Chakotay fixed the lid shut, so a mother’s tears sealed it as a
father’s hand closed it.

Another child was due in five months. Already Kathryn’s stomach was expanding
to make room, just as their hearts were opening to accept the new life. But despite
this warming love, there would never quite be the same boundless unabashed joy
as they had experienced in anticipation of their first child.

finis

Legends
by VoyWriter

disclaimer – Paramount owns the rights to the names and characters – but not my
vision of their future. This is one version. There are others.

Rennit Janeway slipped quietly back into the dimly lit room. Her father lay dying
there, his strength ravaged by a series of strokes that had felled the body and
clouded the mind.

She crossed over to the bed and sat on the edge, taking his hand as so many times
had taken hers. She wondered now, even as an adult, who would keep her safe.

Her brother was here as well, on emergency leave from his ship, leaving the
Captain’s chair to come home to New Earth for this final gathering, his ship
patrolling the near star system without him.

Now he slipped into the room, as tall and dark as Rennit was slight and patrician.
She was her father’s daughter and he their mother’s son in every legacy save
appearance, and both parents had found it ironic that the daughter who so
resembled her mother and carried her name, had found her way as a leader among
their people on the New Earth colony, following the old ways and treasuring the
traditions; while the son had the face of a renegade and the soul of a Starfleet
career officer.

Rennit’s long braid twitched as she turned to greet her brother and he could see
the motion in the feather tied at it s end. She wore the casual tunic and pants of
New Earth fashion, while he still had on the scarlet and black which market
Starfleet’s command chain, 4 pips on his collar.

“Any word?” Rennit asked, reaching out her hand as her brother joined her.

Kolotay shook his head wearily – he’d been trying to contact their mother since
communications went on line with the first morning sun, but could do no better
than to learn her shuttle was still enroute.

“She’s been through the Paris Portal,” he told his sister, referring to the wormhole
now Admiral Tom Paris has discovered so many years before to bring Voyager
back into Alpha Quadrant space.

“She needs to be here,” Rennit murmured, a crease of concern contracting the
tattoo on her forehead, a marking which mirrored that on her father’s face.

He stirred now, and both son and daughter immediately turned to him. Amazingly
he had brief periods of lucidity during which he alternately recognized his
children and cursed his condition in the same soft voice that had cradled and
challenged them as they grew to adulthood.

“Father,” Rennit said, gently covering his hand with her own.

“Rennit.” He recognized her and managed to convey all his love and pride in the
one word. This daughter had taken his place as leader of the colony on New Earth
and he had passed generations of tradition along with that title.

“Kol’s here, too,” she said and her brother steeped forward and crouched at his
father’s bedside, opposite his sister.

“Father,” he said, resting a hand on his father’s shoulder.

Dark eyes met dark eyes, embracing son to father in a ritual perhaps older than
the traditions of their people.

Theirs had been as even and content a relationship as Rennit’s had been
contentious. Rennit was as contrary as her father, and the pair had locked horns
on many an occasion, their mother watching in amusement and smoothing the
way when needed.

“This is the child you deserve, Chakotay.” Kol could her his mothers teasing and
scolding voice and see his father’s scowling visage transform into an expression
of tenderness and love almost embarrassing to witness.

“This is all far more than I deserve, Kathryn,” his father would invariably reply,
the simple, heartfelt emotion touching them all and drawing them into its broad
embracing warmth.

And now his father lay dying, and his mother pressed to come home, calling in a
lifetime of favors to reach her husband before he was taken from her forever.

Kol caught Rennit’s worried glance. Both knew it was unlikely any transport
could close the distance across the quadrant in the short time that remained.

A shock shook their father and his eyes closed and his breathing slowed and
caught, before evening out again.

Another small stroke. It was so near the end.

“It’s time,” Rennit said softly, and her brother nodded his silent agreement
through threatening tears.

Rennit pulled a small pouch from the pocket of her tunic and from that a wrapped
packet. She opened it carefully and dipped one finger in the fine black powder it
held inside. She touched this finger to her father’s forehead and drew a streak
down its center, murmuring ritual words of comfort, mourning and passage.

Kol watched. He honored the traditions of his people, but had not adopted them.
This ceremony was for Rennit and their father. Kol would mark the passing in his
own way.

Rennit’s hands shook as she refolded the packet and tucked it away.

The soft adobe walls of the room were a pale yellow, warm in the dim light. The
bed was the same one where both children had been made, and born those forty
odd years before when at last their journey over, a legendary Starfleet Captain and
her renegade First Officer had finally set duty aside to make a home and start a
family.

Over the years, their father had provided the structure in their lives as their
mother’s duties to the Admiralty drew her away, and his to the new colony
permitted his presence home.

But absences aside, it was their mother who was the grounding for them all, and
both of her children, however, mature and settled in their own lives and careers,
needed that comfort now.

“Kathryn.” Their father’s soft voice was barely a whisper. He blinked his eyes
open and then closed them again.

“She’s coming, father,” Rennit reassured him, her face streaked with tears. She
recalled a story her father had retold so many times over the years it had become
as legend for their family. It began

“There was an angry warrior….”

“I don’t know if I can do this,” she choked, as salty tears overtook her face. How
they just watch him die? No heroic measures, he had insisted with a finality that
could not be brooked. And they knew nothing else would be fair, although other
paths might be easier.

Their father’s breathing faltered now.

Kol exchanged glances with his sister. It hurt physically so hard it was to watch
and bear. His father still would not give up. Waiting. Trusting.

And as yet one more whispered breath touched his lips, a still slight, strong figure
reached his bedside and drew her silvered head close.

“It’s Kathryn, love,” she whispered. And as her lover’s hand tenderly caressed his
face, her children withdrew to the doorway.

“Rest now,” she said ever so gently. “It’s all right. It’s time to rest now, love.”

It was an example of courage, dignity and compassion, but more than that, a
lesson in love and an act of a generous heart that neither son nor daughter would
forget.

Epilogue

“I’m going to tell you a story about your great grandparents,” Rennit said,
touching the tattooed forehead of her oldest granddaughter, a newly
commissioned Starfleet officer. “It starts like this…”

“There was a fair and lonely maiden who was lost among the stars…”

finis

Siren’s Song
by VoyWriter

disclaimer: Paramount holds all rights to name and characters.
Please feel free to distribute this electronically intact and without revision.
Permission from the author is required to include it in any anthology or post it on
a web page.

email comments to VoyWriter@aol.com

Chakotay sat in his chair on the bridge, his control station opened and active,
ostensibly reviewing second watch logs, actually watching the Captain work her
way across the lower level.

She stopped at the helm, leaning over Tom Paris’s shoulder, resting one hand
casually on the back of Tom’s chair for support while she pointed something out
to him on his station monitor. He nodded in response to whatever she had asked,
offered some explanation, and she shook her head and laughed. It was a throaty,
seductive sound. Her body swayed toward the conn and then back again and she
touched Tom on shoulder before moving on. Chakotay saw Paris shift in his seat,
heard him take a breath, as she left.

Did she realize what she was doing? Chakotay wondered. Every male on the
bridge was attuned to her – save Tuvok, maybe, and that was even in question –
and it wasn’t just because she was Captain, though the power issue was part of it
because it was so much a part of her.

He knew she thought the uniform protected her, made her sexless, or at least
genderless, but she couldn’t have been more wrong. The uniform only served to
emphasize her authority, define her as forbidden, enforce the tenuous barrier that
kept her separated from them all, driving them to find some way to cross it,
seeking that most basic level of connection where rank gives way to instinct. It
was a catalyst, not a deterrent.

She seldom appeared in off-duty clothes, none of them did. So the uniform had
become both civilian and standard issue wear. The line was not necessarily that
easy to draw, save here on the bridge where it was so absolutely defined. Yet even
here, there was that instinctive reaction to her presence that frustrated while it
seduced.

The regulation jumpsuit was certainly sexless of itself, yet enticing as she wore it.
Material whispering against slim hips and thighs. Breasts constrained by layers of
fabric just as she was constrained by the red and black. There was a ripe fullness
to both, awaiting revelation.

She crossed to the upper level. To Harry Kim. Chakotay found a reason to turn
and follow her with his gaze. The Ensign began an earnest explanation in answer
to her query. His enthusiasm charmed her and she smiled encouragingly, touching
his arm. It could have been a caress, but wasn’t. She was careful – always – to
maintain the appropriate distance. Discretion without fail. And that, too, drew
them. Moths to a flame.

Harry flushed at the attention. Mother. Girlfriend. Commander. Which did he see
now as he nodded vigorously, his eyes bright.

Tuvok had just stepped off the lift, returning from routine duties. She caught his
eye. The smile stayed, but altered subtly. There was a safety here. She reacted to
it instinctively, the barriers shifting from alert to caution. There was always
caution. It, too, drew. If she had rushed forth, her over eagerness would have
dispelled the image.

They spoke quietly, no contact save her eyes which met his with interest and
intelligence – as if he were the only reason for her being on the bridge, and his
report her only interest. It was sincere flattery and recognized as such,
appreciated, the reason even Tuvok was not immune.

Then her boot steps returned to the lower level and she took her chair. At his side
now. Grace and power. Her scent reached him. It was the perfume of soft hair,
delicate features, dignity and command. It was a siren’s song. You could drown in
her presence. The bridge crew was treading water.

finis

My version of what should have happened at the end of Resolutions.

Awakening
by VoyWriter

disclaimer: Paramount holds all rights to name and characters.
Please feel free to distribute this electronically intact and without revision.
Permission from the author is required to include it in any anthology or post it on
a web page.

email comments to VoyWriter@aol.com

Kathryn arched against Chakotay’s body, felt him find his own release as well and
heard their voices soar together. She was stretched a top the length of him,
unwilling for him to slide away, her breasts still taut and aching on his hard chest.
It was firm and muscled and strong against her softness. She reveled in the feel of
their bodies together, in the unison they had found in these short months on New
Earth since they had been freed from the bonds of uniform and command.

She remembered the night they first made love as clearly as if it had been
yesterday, not some two months prior. It had been her opening, his gentle urging
forward. Angry warrior he had called himself. And her his salvation. They were
both saved now.

His breathing eased beneath her and his arm curled around her, slid down her
back to rest possessively on her rear. Her own hand drew against his face, traced
his tattoo, cupped his jaw.

Brown eyes met hers, filled with love and amusement. Her passion filled him
with joy, he had told her, and her cries of pleasure at his touch brought that joy to
face and gaze.

She pressed her lips to his mouth, her tongue finding the edges of his lips, her
tongue the edges of his own. She felt him grow hard within her again and she slid
down against him until she felt him full inside her.

Is this what it would be like? For the next ten years? The next forty? Until death
us do part? The words they had repeated that first night of finding love, certain
even then of their commitment to one another. The words he repeated now in
fervent breath against her temple. The words she pressed into his mouth and groin
with her touch.

He captured her, rolled her gently beneath him, began the ministrations of a lover
upon her body, upon her soul. She felt the abandon their passion allowed and her
cries and whimpers mingled with his groans and panting breath.

This time they did not rock to completion. There were limits even to what passion
would allow the body to accomplish, but it was the act not the finish that was of
import, the touching and closeness, not the closure.

He slipped them onto their sides, cradling her against him, wrapped within his
warm embrace and they slept, her hand upon his chest, his hands against her
back, her hair a veil that blanketed their forms.

Kathryn awoke slowly, finding awareness, pushing the hair from her face, easing
against the arms which caressed her even now. She turned her gaze into the room
and found her breath suddenly low, her vision dim.

A whisper left her lips as she found the three familiar, but long lost forms in the
brightening morning light.

Hushed and soft. “Tuvok.” And Harry and B’Elanna at his side.

She allowed herself a look at her lover and then returned her gaze to the three
who waited.

“We have come to take you home, Captain,” said the voice of friend, and to that
end now, a would-be foe.

The body spooned around her stirred and woke as well and saw her vision as his
own. He clasped her tight as if he could protect her from this inevitable fate
which would take them both away from the freedom this new life had allowed
them to embrace.

“You did not answer your comm badges and we were concerned.” Tuvok spoke
again.

No. They had been set aside along with uniform and duty. In a drawer. In a box.
Separate. Tokens instead of symbols.

She managed another whisper. “Please. A minute.”

Tuvok nodded then, set his own comm badge on the table, gathered up Kim and
Torres and led them from the room. “I apologize for the intrusion. Please contact
the ship when you are ready.”

She turned into her lover and the warming comfort of his embrace. His eyes
beheld her torment.

“Whatever you want,” he told her, his lips pressing against her temple, his eyes
closing, his breath holding as he waited for her to decide and rule.

She was silent and then spoke. There was no compromise, no quarter in her
words. They were defining. They were a declaration and a definition. “You,” she
said. “And my ship. I intend to have you both.”

finis

The Interview
by Voywriter
Disclaimer – Paramount holds all rights to StarTrek and it’s characters. Please feel
free to distribute this electronically with comments intact and without revision.
email your thoughts to Voywriter@aol.com

Kathryn Janeway reached across her desk for her mug and absently claimed a sip
of now lukewarm tea, grimacing at the temperature. She had closeted herself
away in her ready room for a few hours to review personnel reports – a daunting
task and not always pleasant.
Beyond the standard performance evaluations, there were other issues to be dealt
with – personality conflicts among them. Some conflict was not unexpected
given their situation and the stress it imposed. Most of these issues were minor
and easily resolved over friendly game of pool at SandrineÕs or an informal chat
with both parties to allow each to vent their frustrations.
Some situations had required intervention by Tuvok with short term confinement
to quarters the usual outcome. A very few instances had necessitated more
dramatic measures, but those were rare. In fact, recently there had been a new
feeling of unity among the entire crew, especially since their successful recovery
of Voyager from the Kazon. The change afforded them all some breathing space
and she was grateful, whatever the cause.
When the Maquis crew had first come aboard Voyager, Janeway had wondered if
they would ever be able to function as a unit – no, she had doubted they ever
would reach that point, her usual optimism failing her. It had been such a difficult
time – not just the transition to their new life, but the loss of so many friends and
crew – doctor, engineer, first officer among them. She and Cavit had not been
particularly close friends, but they had found an efficient working arrangement
that suited both. She had certainly not planned on a renegade Maquis Captain as
her second in command, nor how much she would come to depend on him – his
calm commanding presence, his grasp of tactical situations, his ability to simply
listen without judgment. It was every bit as unexpected as his presence on the
ship.
Deciding she merited a break, and new cup of tea, Janeway pushed back from the
viewscreen, cradling her mug between her hands as she walked over the thermal
canister Neelix had left for her, still rolling those early days in the Quadrant back
in her mind. The door chime interrupted her.
ÒCome in,Ó she called out, refilling the mug with spicy honey colored tea. This
was NeelixÕs newest foray into the culinary arts using herbs that Kes grew in the
hydroponics garden. It wasnÕt bad.
The door slid open to reveal Chakotay, a stack of data padds in hand. ÒI brought
you the last of the crew evaluations,Ó he told her, stepping inside at her waved
invitation.
Janeway groaned audibly at the sight of the reviews and the look on her face
elicited a quick grin from Chakotay. ÒTough work?Ó he commented, setting the
padds on the cluttered desk surface. He had spent the last 4 days getting the
reviews in order and knew how daunting a task it was.
Before Janeway even looked at the appraisals, Chakotay went through them all,
adding his evaluation or simply commenting on performance, issues or problems.
So far, she hadnÕt found much to disagree with – his evaluations were right on
target with no bias toward his fellow Maquis members. She would have been
disappointed with anything less. (1)
ÒIt may be possible youÕre too thorough,Ó she told him, pulling out a mug and
offering him a cup of tea. ÒStay. I need a break.Ó
He nodded and accepted the warm liquid and the offered chair. ÒI reviewed
Suder, too,Ó he told her quietly. ÒI thought it was appropriate. His last action was
in defense of the ship.Ó
ÒI agree,Ó she said, dropping back into the chair behind the desk. ÒAnd while a
Starfleet commendation may not be meaningful to him at this point, I think itÕs
important to have the records in order.Ó
Janeway paused to take a sip of the hot tea and to dig through the stacks of padds.
She was seeking one particular data record. It was near the bottom. She pulled it
out and slid it across the desk. ÒI read your self-evaluation earlier today. Very fair.
IÕm not sure if I could be so objective about myself. But I did add a few remarks.
Read it at your leisure. If you disagree with anything, let me know.Ó
Chakotay tapped his fingers on the padd and nodded. ÒIÕll do that.Ó
ÒYou know I never expected that we would work so well together, or that I would
count you as a friend,Ó she said, repeating her earlier thoughts. ÒIn fact, I
wondered what would happen the first time you challenged one of my decisions.Ó
ÒAs I recall, we didnÕt exactly see eye to eye on the issue of an Engineering
Chief,Ó Chakotay reminded her.
ÒTrue,Ó she conceded, Òbut thatÕs not quite what IÕm talking about.Ó She settled
back in her chair, her mug between her hands. ÒEven youÕll agree that BÕlanna
was not the usual candidate for Chief Engineer. No, I was talking about you
Chakotay, about the risk I took making you my First Officer. It wasnÕt just
because I wanted to unite Maquis and Starfleet crews, you know. We had to live
together. Your ship was destroyed. No, I saw in you the best qualifications for the
position. I just wasnÕt sure what it would be like to work with a Federation felon.
And you didnÕt give me much encouragement,” she remembered, “- at least not at
first.Ó

The tall Maquis Captain had refused a seat when Janeway invited him into her
ready room, instead perching on a corner of the meeting table facing her desk.
She shrugged and took her own chair, noting what seemed to be an almost
permanent scowl on his distinctive face. If she hadnÕt seen his Starfleet record
and witnessed his selfless bravery against the Kazon, she might have thought him
dangerous. As it was, she simply questioned his choices.
ÒWe do not find ourselves in an easy situation,Ó she began. ÒYet it is clear that we
need to find some accommodation.Ó
ÒWhat exactly do you have in mind?Ó came the unexpectedly calm reply.
Janeway raised an eyebrow. Was he really that cool? ÒI have a proposal for you,Ó
she began, her hands neatly folded on the desktop. ÒIÕve been looking at your
Starfleet record.Õ
Now it was his turn to raise an eyebrow.
ÒItÕs not unimpressive,Ó she noted.
ÒI left by choice, not invitation,Ó he reminded her.
ÒTell me about that,Ó she asked, leaning forward. ÒTell me what caused you to
leave.Ó
He met her gaze with one equally steady. ÒIsnÕt that all in my record?Ó He
gestured toward the display monitor.
ÒIÕd prefer to hear it from you,Ó Janeway insisted.
A moment of silence followed and then he finally nodded. ÒAll right. ItÕs not very
complicated. My father was killed. I returned to our world and took up his cause.Ó
ÒAgainst the Federation.Ó
ÒAgainst Cardassian rule..Ó
ÒA small distinction,Ó she challenged.
ÒPerhaps,Ó he agreed with a shrug of his wide shoulders. ÒI believe the Federation
did not have the right to sign treaties on our behalf. From that perspective, I was
against the Federation.Ó
ÒAnd from other perspectives?Ó
ÒI joined Starfleet because I believed in many of the same principles that exist
within the Federation,Ó Chakotay insisted.
ÒYou took an oath to that Federation when you graduated the Academy,Ó Janeway
reminded him. ÒYou promised to uphold Federation law and protect the people of
the Federation. What happened to that?Ó
ÒUp until the treaty, my people were counted among the people of the Federation.
What happened to that?Ó he spat. ÒJust who broke the trust, Captain?Ó
She took a deep breath. Finally, a reaction. Anger, but contained. Civil, if not
polite, restraint. Good. She looked back out at him. He was watching her as well.
That was fine.
ÒWhy did you defend my decision to destroy the array?Ó she wondered. Torres
had been horrified at JanewayÕs decision to eliminate their only way home.
Chakotay had backed the Captain without reserve or question.
ÒTorres is impatient. She likes to make her own decisions. She knows the
command structure. She just doesnÕt have much use for it.Ó
ÒYet you risked her disapproval. I wasnÕt your commander at the time.Ó
ÒShe was wrong,Ó he said. ÒYou were in command of Voyager. It was your
decision.Ó
ÒThat simple?Ó she asked.
ÒIÕm not a revolutionary, Captain. I am a Maquis officer. I was a Starfleet officer.
I respect discipline. I understand the need for it. I am not an incendiary. I simply
went home to support my people and honor my fatherÕs memory.Ó

He dropped down off the table and crossed over toward the observation port.
Unfamiliar stars met his gaze. It reminded him of his first night on earth at the
Academy. An unfamiliar sky had greeted him there was well. He had learned to
count it as a friend. He turned back to Janeway.
ÒIÕd like to ask you a question.Ó
ÒPlease,Ó Janeway encouraged.
ÒWhat do you intended to do now?Ó he asked.
Janeway met his gaze. ÒIÕm hoping youÕll help me figure that out,Ó she told him,
frankly.
ÒIÕm not so sure IÕm the right person to ask.Ó
ÒI judge you to be an honest man,Ó Janeway said.
ÒFor a wanted felon?Ó he finished.
ÒYour words.Ó
ÒYou could just lock me up for the next 70 years.Ó
ÒItÕs always an option.Ó And one she might consider if she couldnÕt get him to
open up a bit more. This wasnÕt quite working. She needed more. Heroism was
fine. Championing right causes was fine. He clearly had no shortage of anger or
passion. That could be good. But she needed more. Needed to know more. (2)

ÒAt that point I was ready to lock you up,Ó Janeway smiled with a shake of her
head. ÒIt was an exasperating conversation.Ó
ÒI thought I would just let you play out your agenda,Ó Chakotay told her, rolling
the mug between his hands and taking a sip of tea before a teasing grin appeared
on his lips. His eyes lit with humor.
ÒOr maybe I was planning my takeover of your ship,Ó he teased. ÒAnd I was
simply trying to buy a little time.Ó
ÒPower has never been your motivator, Commander,Ó Janeway said dismissing
his suggestion with a wave of her hand. ÒI could tell that even then . YouÕve
always been more concerned with getting the job done than getting credit for it.Ó
She had never known Chakotay to ask for any more than respect for his rank and
position. That, and the right to do his job -something Kathryn may have been too
slow to grant in the beginning. Still, he wasnÕt threatened by taking orders – not
even from a woman and lord knows Janeway had seen enough of that in her
tenure in command. It all combined to made him an effective second chair. It was
a good partnering – on many levels.
ÒI could tell you were frustrated as hell by my answers,Ó Chakotay
acknowledged, taking up the thread of their conversation.. ÒBut I wanted to see if
you could keep your cool. And I wanted to know what you would do if you didnÕt
immediately get your own way.Ó
ÒAh,Ó JanewayÕs eyes widened knowingly. ÒSo you were testing me. Fair
enough,Ó she allowed with a nod. ÒBut you didnÕt allow much latitude,Ó she
chastened. ÒI almost gave up on you.Ó
ÒI was as lost as the rest of you,Ó he told her, rising to fill his cup with more tea.
ÒAnd I was scrambling to figure out what the hell to do stuck on a Starfleet ship
70 years from home. I had just destroyed my own ship. It was more than a little
overwhelming.Ó
ÒYou might have let on a little,Ó she advised him, ÒIn fact I was frustrated by what
I perceived to be your casual attitude toward our situation..Ó
ÒPanic isnÕt exactly my style,Ó he insisted. ÒBut I had lost as much as anyone and
I was frankly thrown by it all.Ó
ÒYou adapted well on New Earth,Ó she reminded him. ÒFar better than I did.Ó She
recalled his easy transition to their new life. It was Chakotay who made their
home and nurtured their future until she had finally accepted their situation. If he
hadnÕt built their life, she would have had nothing to turn to after the storm
destroyed her tests and equipment. He had saved her in more ways than she cared
to admit.
ÒMaybe IÕm more of a fatalist,Ó Chakotay suggested, his own memories following
her train of thought. ÒOr maybe IÕm just better at accepting my fate.Ó
But even as he said the words, he knew better. He knew it was Kathryn who had
kept him going and given him determination that there should be a future. Her
unflagging optimism had been a beacon which he could follow. It had given him
purpose and direction that were his alone. He truly believed she had led him from
the darkness to the new sense of ease he now felt.
He had shared those feelings with her one sultry evening on New Earth when the
moon rose high and the wind swept softly past their camp, but she had been
characteristically unconvinced of her influence, dismissing his words with a soft,
self-conscious laugh.
ÒI donÕt quite view myself in the role of your savior, Chakotay,Ó she had told him,
reaching across the table to cover his hand with her own. ÒI think itÕs more likely
you saved yourself.Ó
But in so many ways, she had saved him, and Chakotay knew it. Her acceptance
of him as First Officer been the first step. He had never asked her if she made the
decision alone, but he did know she had sought TuvokÕs counsel on the matter.
ÒWhen did you talk to Tuvok about me?Ó Chakotay wondered.
ÒActually I talked to him several times. Before I met with you and again after we
talked.Ó
ÒAnd did he support your idea?Ó
ÒHe felt it was logical,Ó Janeway allowed. ÒFor a Vulcan thatÕs as close as you get
to support,Ó she said dryly.
ÒYet you didnÕt immediately bring it up with me,Ó Chakotay noted, slipping back
into the chair facing JanewayÕs desk.
ÒNo,Ó she allowed. ÒI didnÕt.Ó
ÒBecause you still werenÕt sure of me,Ó he realized.
She tapped a finger against the side of her tea mug. ÒYou were not an easy man to
judge, Chakotay. In many ways you seemed too good to be true. I just had to
know more.Ó

Janeway decided to take a new tack with her Maquis guest – a more direct one.
Decisions had to be made and she didnÕt like unnecessary delays. It was time to
make some progress.
ÒTell me,Ó she began. ÒAre you a dangerous man?Ó she asked bluntly. She was
still seated behind her desk, fingers tightly knit, the only sign of her impatience
and uncertainty.
Chakotay turned from the observation window. ÒWhat do you think?Ó
She studied him a moment. Many would call him a handsome man, she among
them, but there was an unsettled look about him that was disconcerting. His
actions bespoke a heroic nature, and his choice to leave Starfleet and go fight for
his homeland could be viewed as overly dramatic were it not so clear he did little
he did not believe in. But was he dangerous? To her – as Captain of Voyager? No.
His manner was neither threatening nor intimidating. To the safety their mission?
No. He had carried out his Starfleet oath in good faith. His service records
bespoke that. To the rest of the crew? He was a natural leader, experienced in
handling a wide variety of dedicated and not so dedicated followers. So, no. But
was he dangerous? Yes. On some level the answer had to be yes. Just how, was
what she needed to find out, had to find out.
The tattoo on his forehead was part of the answer. The almost, but not quite,
arrogant attitude was part of the answer. The calm, cool exterior and angry
flicker in the eyes was part of the answer. The contrary side of his nature was part
of the answer. She wondered if this was a puzzle she would regret taking on.
Janeway met ChakotayÕs intense gaze. He had been studying her as well. ÒAre
you a dangerous man?Ó she repeated. She nodded. ÒYes, I think itÕs possible.Ó
ÒThen youÕre in good company,Ó he replied. ÒThe last I heard the entire
Federation agreed with you.Ó He grinned. It threw her off for a moment. He had a
dark sense of humor. She told him so.
ÒBÕlanna would agree with you,Ó he said, pacing around her desk to finally take
the empty chair she had offered earlier. He dropped down gracefully and rested
his hands lightly on the armrests. ÒIt irritates her. Ó
Janeway wondered which spoke more to his contrary nature – his refusal to take
the chair until he was ready, or the knowledge that he deliberately baited his chief
engineer. Both bits of information added to her knowledge base – two more parts
of the puzzle to piece together.
Now Chakotay studied her. Efficient. Calm. The essence of control. But more.
There was a quiet dignity about her you could not ignore, and that he found hard
to challenge despite his best efforts. Respect was the only reaction possible. Her
expression was veiled, but there was no guile. She simply was not choosing to
open herself up to him. That was fair. That was a reasonable reaction. Still, her
eyes challenged him.
He had watched her with her crew, too. She knew her strength, but did not bully.
He appreciated her style. It tended to bring out the best in people. He wondered in
passing if she could find the best in him. So far he had been unsuccessful – as had
Starfleet – as had his father before that. It could be worth the price of admission
just for the promise of that, he thought, however, selfish it might be.
ÒTell me about your relationship with Tom Paris,Ó Janeway asked, deliberately
keeping all judgment from her tone.
Chakotay reacted immediately by pushing up from the chair and standing legs
apart, fists on hips before her. His eyes were charged with defiant anger. Here
was the danger – or a piece of it- Janeway realized.
ÒTom Paris and I had nothing close to a relationship,Ó Chakotay said coldly. ÒHe
interest was in latinum, nothing else.Ó
ÒYet you needed mercenaries like Tom to fill your ranks,Ó challenged Janeway.
The Maquis did not answer. The truth was cutting.
ÒTom saved your life in the Ocampan tunnels,Ó she reminded him.
This truth was even harder. Paris may have used the incident, but he had saved
ChakotayÕs life and at no small risk to his own. It was a redemption, of sorts – or
a start at one. ÒItÕs true that I owe Tom,Ó Chakotay acknowledged, and he
managed to keep the grudging tone from his voice. Janeway added another piece.
ÒAmong my people it would make me his protector,Ó Chakotay added.
ÒAre you?Ó
What was she asking, he wondered. Was he going to do harm to Paris? The man
was no better or worse than any of the mercenaries who had fought with the
Maquis. Chakotay simply disapproved of the whole lot. Did he spare any feelings
for pucah? He had few to spare. So what was the real question. He decided to ask
Janeway. (3)
She appreciated the directness. Another piece to fit into place.
ÒIÕm thinking of making Tom my helmsman,Ó she advised.
There was silence initially. Then ChakotayÕs reply startled her. ÒIf itÕs of any
value,Ó he told her, Òmy opinion is that Paris is both capable and qualified. HeÕs
simply unmotivated.Ó
Janeway was stunned. Just like that. Just like that Chakotay had affirmed her trust
in him, in his judgment, in his ability to separate his personal feelings from the
situation, in his ability to access the qualifications and value of a crewman.
Starfleet had lost a fine officer, she repeated to herself once again.
But there was still the question of his loyalties. He was loyal to his people, to the
Maquis, to his crew. It was a fine start.
She pushed away from the desk and rose. ÒWalk with me,Ó she asked/directed,
gesturing for him to proceed her to the door. ÒI want to show you my ship.Ó

ÒI remember that first tour of Voyager,Ó Chakotay said with a reminiscent grin.
ÒEven after the pounding from the Kazon, Voyager was cleaner, faster, newer
than anything we had in the Maquis or anything I had served on in Starfleet.Ó
ÒWere you jealous?Ó Janeway teased. She leaned forward expectantly.
ÒI wanted to be a part of her,Ó Chakotay said intently.
ÒItÕs what I had hoped you would feel.Ó
ÒSo you were dangling a carrot in front of me hoping IÕd follow.Ó
ÒPerhaps thatÕs true in a way,Ó she admitted. ÒI wanted to see your reaction.Ó
ÒAs I recall I mostly asked questions.Ó
ÒYou gave me exactly what I had hoped for,Ó Janeway said exuberantly. ÒInterest.
I knew if I could get you interested, if you could believe in Voyager as I did, you
would take up her cause.Ó
ÒI believed in you, Kathryn,Ó Chakotay said candidly.
ÒI needed your trust, but not your blind faith.Ó
ÒFaith is a powerful tool,Ó he reminded her. ÒAnd your pride in Voyager
reminded me of the way my father spoke of his Maquis soldiers. I wanted to be
party to that, too.Ó
Janeway knew of his unresolved differences with his father, and of the hurt he
had carried for years. Time had been a balm, but ChakotayÕs experience with the
Sky People had perhaps made the greatest difference. He was at peace with the
memory now and visited his father with his spirit guide whenever he sought a
greater truth.
ÒDid visit your spirit guide before deciding to accept my offer?Ó Janeway
wondered.
Chakotay shook his head. ÒMy way was clear,Ó he said. ÒDo you remember asking
me what I was leaving behind?Ó
Janeway nodded. ÒYou told me you preferred to focus on what was in front of
you.Ó
ÒIt was easy to say that with nothing behind me.Ó
ÒYou left the Maquis.Ó
ÒI wonder if I was really ever with the Maquis,Ó he sighed. ÒIt was my fatherÕs
fight.Ó
ÒI think you do yourself a disservice. Tuvok was most impressed with your efforts
and dedication.Ó In fact, the Vulcan had volunteered the information.
ÒNow who has the blind faith,Ó he laughed.

ÒNever blind,Ó she denied. ÒBut I did learn to have faith in you, Chakotay. IÕm
only sorry it took me so long.Ó
ÒI remember asking what it would be like to work for you,Ó he said. ÒYou told me
we would have to find common ground.Ó
ÒAnd you said I might be surprised at how much we already shared,Ó she nodded
her head. ÒI remember. I also remember the look of surprise on your face when I
asked you to become my First Officer.Ó
ÒWe were in the turbo lift, coming up from engineering,Ó Chakotay recalled.

ÒHold,Ó Janeway called out, and the lift stopped. Chakotay looked at her
expectantly.
ÒWhat do you think of my ship?Ó she asked.
They had walked every deck save for storage. The ship was amazing. There was
no question about that. Neural gel packs to speed processing. Advanced replicator
systems. Power capabilities as close to warp 10 as possible. It was clearly the
jewel of Starfleet.
And the crew was dedicated. There was no doubt about that. No one was being
paid bars of latinum to serve on Voyager. It was an honor to be assigned to her.
More than one crew member had said that and with all sincerity.
But what struck him most was its Captain. Kathryn Janeway was someone worth
serving under. He could see it in every face who greeted them. It made Chakotay
feel more of an outsider than he ever would have expected on a Starfleet vessel.
He didnÕt like the feeling. Being an individualist was one thing. Spending 70
years standing apart from the rest of the crew was something entirely different.
He did not want to just be a passenger in his life. He thought Kathryn Janeway
just might be able to help him make the transition. What he didnÕt know was her
price.
ÒI understand why Voyager was the flag ship,Ó he told her, repeating some of his
observations.
ÒIÕd like you to be her First Officer,Ó Janeway said with more abruptness than she
intended.
Chakotay was stunned. It was maybe the last thing he expected. ÒStarfleet doesnÕt
take too kindly to wanted felons in their command structure.Ó
ÒWeÕre a long way from home. I think I can safely make this decision.Ó (4)
ÒWhy me?Ó That was the crux of it. What her answer would be. He had no
intention of being her token peacemaker. If she wanted to bring the crews
together, she would have to find another way. But Janeway did not even list that
as an issue.
ÒYouÕre Academy trained,Ó she said instead. ÒYou have Starfleet command
experience plus you commanded in the Maquis.Ó She paused and took a breath.
ÒAnd I think I could trust you with my ship should the need arise. Frankly, there is
no one better qualified.Ó
ÒTuvok,Ó Chakotay suggested.
ÒI judge you to be a better fit for this.Ó
ÒBecause IÕm Maquis,Ó he flared, Òand you can use me to heal the breach?Ó
ÒWhatever breach this may heal with your crew, itÕs likely to open with mine,Ó
she said frankly. ÒSo I think my net gain is even or losing. But yes, I do think itÕs
important to bring the crews together. I would like to integrate your people into
departments on Voyager.Ó
ÒThis wonÕt be very popular with your crew,Ó he warned.
ÒMy crew will be just fine. Can you say the same for your fellow Maquis?Ó
Janeway wondered.
ÒI canÕt speak for them,, but it seems we have a choice – participate or watch.Ó
Ò I judge youÕre not the type of man just to watch.Ó
ÒNor are most of the Maquis,Ó Chakotay noted flatly. ÒAre you prepared for that?Ó
ÒI would give you a field commendation and raise your rank to Commander,Ó she
told him, momentarily ignoring the question. There would undoubtedly be
animosity and tension between the Maquis and Voyager crews. One of
ChakotayÕs jobs as First Officer would be to diffuse it. She told him as much.
ÒWhat about authority ?Ó
ÒI don’t need a figurehead,Ó she replied. ÒIÕd expect you to do your job and IÕd
give you the latitude to do it.Ó
ÒAnd you would back me?Ó
ÒThis will not be easy for either of us at first,Ó she warned. ÒI can only promise to
try to be fair. But I expect the same from you.Ó
ÒAnd if this doesnÕt work? What then?Ó
ÒThen I lock you up for 70 years.Ó

ÒI remember the feel of the uniform,Ó Chakotay said, touching the fabric on his
sleeve. ÒI was used to civilian clothes, but when I put it on, it felt right somehow.Ó
ÒI understand that several of your crew gave you a hard time with the decision.Ó
Chakotay nodded. ÒSeska and BÕlanna were very against it at first. And there
were others who disagreed.Ó
BÕlanna had figured it out for herself and now made a fine Chief Engineer for
Voyager. Seska had never understood why Chakotay didnÕt at least attempt to
take control of Voyager. But it was now clear there were many things about him
that Seska had not understood.
ÒHow did it make you feel to know your fellow Maquis…Ó
ÒConsidered me a traitor?Ó he finished for her. And the hard look that flickered in
his eyes told Janeway more than his words. Of course this would not have been
easy. The Maquis were fighting against the Federation. To most of them, Starfleet
was the Federation. To his fellow Maquis it must have been a stunning shock
when Chakotay changed sides and urged them to do the same. After all, he had
come to them from Starfleet and with TuvokÕs recent Òdefection…Ó
ÒWas it that bad?Ó Janeway asked sympathetically, reaching out to rest her hand
on his arm. ÒI was so busy dealing with our situation, I really didnÕt stop to
consider how difficult it could have been for you. IÕm sorry for that. What reason
did you give them?Ó (5)
ÒI considered saying that as First Officer I could better represent Maquis interests
on the ship,Ó Chakotay told her.
ÒBut that wouldnÕt have been the truth.Ó Janeway knew.
Chakotay took a breath. ÒNo. It wouldnÕt have been the truth, although it was
what most of them wanted to hear.Ó He could still remember SeskaÕs flashing
anger when he told her his decision, and the resounding slap of her hand across
his face. BÕlannaÕs fury had ricocheted off them all. Both had acted as catalysts to
fuel already surging emotions. Ironically it was Suder who was the voice of
reason.
ÒSuder?Ó Janeway was surprised. Still, there had been sanity and sense there once.
ÒWhat did he say?Ó
ÒHe said better to have one of our own to take orders from then one of yours,Ó
Chakotay revealed. ÒEven Seska could grudgingly admit the truth of that. And
when they all finally calmed down, I was able to make a few points about 70
years with nothing else to do.Ó
ÒWas there ever talk of mutiny?Ó
ÒMore times than you would care to know.Ó
ÒAnd?Ó
ÒAnd I said if I heard any more talk of it IÕd personally throw them all in the brig.
It seemed to settle things.Ó Except for Seska. But there was no point in bringing
that up again. She was dead. It was done.
Janeway let out her breath and took a sip of tea. ÒYou had a lot to overcome. I
appreciate that you were willing to take it on.Ó She meant it. And he was a
damned fine First Officer. ÒYou know that was one of the things I was concerned
about. I thought you might just get fed up with it all and step down. Decide to
take your people and find some new world to call home or some new cause to
fight for.Ó
Chakotay nodded. ÒI remember. You asked me about commitment.Ó

Janeway and Chakotay had returned to her ready room. JanewayÕs proposal was
on still the table, but the Maquis had yet to accept. She fixed herself a cup of tea
and offered him one.
ÒThank you. IÕd like that,Ó he said, walking about the room. He was trying to
judge the occupant by the contents. There was precious little personal in the
room. Not really enough to get an impression. It was strange. Perhaps this Captain
simply preferred to keep the private and the professional separate.
ÒLooking for something?Ó Janeway asked as she handed him the tea.
ÒSigns of the owner,Ó he told her candidly. ÒI was a pretty good tracker when I
was growing up. I just wanted to see if I could figure out where you came from.Ó
He took the proffered chair and she seated herself across the table.
ÒHow about where IÕm going?Ó Janeway wondered.
ÒThat, too. IÕm always interested in the journey,Ó Chakotay told her. ÒThe start
and finish are inevitable.Ó
ÒTell me about your journey,Ó she suggested. There were still pieces missing. Still
a few questions to be answered. Even though she had offered the second seat, it
didnÕt mean there was nothing to be learned.
ÒMy journey isnÕt that interesting, Captain,Ó he demurred. ÒBut clearly there is
something thatÕs still bothering you. Would you like to withdraw your offer?Ó
Janeway raised an eyebrow. ÒI donÕt think that will be necessary. I just need a bit
more reassurance.Ó
ÒAbout?Ó
She took a sip of tea and then deliberately set the cup aside. ÒFrankly, I question
your level of commitment. I wonder how many things have you finished in your
life,Ó she told him. Might as well be candid. Then she could see his reaction as
well as hear his answer.
ÒNow you sound like my father.Ó He bit out the words, more than a hint of anger
and passion behind the cool soft tones. She could see the muscles in his hands
tense as he gripped his cup.
Chakotay forced himself to relax. It was a fair question. That was the reason his
father had asked it so many times. That was the reason Chakotay asked it of
himself so many times. The problem was the answer.
ÒI finished at the Academy. Served in Starfleet,Ó he offered. It might be enough.
ÒAnd left to join the Maquis. And may now leave that to rejoin Starfleet.Ó
He looked down at his tea. All right. Time for the truth, he decided. As much as
he understood it anyway. He met her gaze in frank return. ÒIÕm searching,
Captain. IÕve found worthy causes. There are plenty of them – Starfleet and the
Maquis among them. But they are not my true direction. I have yet to find that.
And when I do, I think peace will follow.Ó
ÒAnd you think you might find it on Voyager?Ó This was interesting. She hadnÕt
expected him to be so candid. He was not the simple Maquis commander she had
initially presumed him to be. Not merely a revolutionary. Not merely a warrior.
Angry. Contrary. Frustrated. Restless. At odds with himself. Thoughtful. That was
the most welcome surprise. She liked to surround herself with thoughtful people.
It made life more interesting, and more challenging. ÒWell?Ó He hadnÕt answered
her question. ÒDo you think you will find the peace youÕre seeking here on
Voyager?Ó
ÒYou donÕt?Ó
ÒSo far peace is the last thing that weÕve been experiencing around here,Ó she said
dryly. ÒIf youÕre looking for peace, I think youÕd better search elsewhere.Ó
ÒI think youÕre wrong,Ó came his flat answer. ÒAnd I think you may help me find
it,Ó he said intently.

ÒI wasnÕt sure what you meant by that,Ó Janeway recalled.
ÒPerhaps because the meaning was unclear to me as well, at that time. But I think
it has come to pass. I have found peace here, Kathryn. And you are responsible.Ó
She raised an eyebrow, recalling his words on New Earth. ÒIÕm not sure I ever
needed a keeper,Ó she told him.
He laughed. ÒNo. YouÕre quite self-sufficient,Ó he agreed. ÒExcept here.Ó He
reached over and touched her heart. ÒAnd here.Ó His fingers grazed her temple.
ÒHeart and soul?Ó she guessed. ÒPerhaps,Ó she conceded. ÒYet you did care for me
on New Earth in a very real sense. The campsite. The bathtub.Ó She grinned at
that memory. ÒAnd I have to admit I liked it. And as my First Officer, you care for
me here as well.Ó
ÒI think youÕre a very worthy cause, Kathryn. You hold the future for us all.Ó
ÒAnd you hold me together?Ó
ÒSomething like that.Ó
Janeway smiled. ÒStarfleetÕs regulation definition of the relationship between
Captain and First Officer is a symbiotic relationship. It was based on some very
strong historical perspectives – Eleanor and Franklin Roosevelt of Earth, TÕKar
and Simak of Vulcan, James Kirk and Spock of the original Enterprise.Ó
Chakotay nodded. ÒWhen I first studied it at the Academy, it brought to mind the
relationship between the earth and those who inhabit her. My people have long
viewed that as the greatest of all symbiosis. Man owes a great debt to mother
earth and must serve as her protector and caretaker. In turn, it is she who grounds
him and nourishes his being.Ó
Janeway was silent a moment. ÒI appreciate what you bring to this partnership,
Chakotay,Ó she said finally. ÒOf everything weÕve experienced in this strange new
quadrant itÕs perhaps the most unexpected.Ó
ÒBecause I was a Federation felon?Ó he teased.
ÒTell me, what would you have done if we were unable to reach an
accommodation?Ó she wondered.
ÒWhy I would have taken the ship, Kathryn. WasnÕt you who decided I was a
dangerous man?Ó He met her gaze and then rose and picked up the data padd she
had earlier pushed his way. ÒIÕll listen to this later,Ó he said, making his way to
the door.
ÒThe danger was not at all what I thought it would be,Ó murmured Janeway as the
door slid shut behind him.

EPILOGUE
It was several hours before ChakotayÕs schedule permitted him time to listen to
JanewayÕs comments. He had changed into off duty clothes – comfortable loose
pants and a tunic he did not bother to fasten. He was barefoot. He set the padd on
the desk and directed it to recall while he fixed himself his own tea and then sat
to listen..
First came his own self-assessment. He reviewed it again. He had rated himself
strong in adaptability, weaker in patience. He was working on improving his
knowledge of engineering, but it was a challenge. BÕlanna was helping when she
had time. His rating on tactical was higher than TuvokÕs according to computer
simulations. He reacted quicker – from the gut – and his response was usually
right on target. In the Maquis his life had depended on it. There were more
standard assessments after that and several other computer determined scores,
and then JanewayÕs comments.
Her distinctive voice touched him and for a moment it seemed she was with him
in the room. She went through his review points one by one, but offered little
disagreement with his ratings. She left only a short message beyond that.
ÒCommander Chakotay came to us seeking not merely direction, but a sense of
peace. It seemed to me a worthy goal and he a worthy risk. From all appearances,
he has achieved his goal along with a renewed commitment to himself and his
future. And as for the risk – here was a man who had little to lose and much to
gain. The same could be said for Voyager, her crew and her Captain, all of whom
have benefited from his presence.Ó

finis