IGNORANCE
By Ammo
It was only when I started to write this that I realised
just how many inconsistencies there are in the series as well as things that
were never actually properly explained.
For example, why was Starfleet so eager to capture Chakotay? And why weren’t Tom and Harry on board
Voyager when it launched from dry dock?
Want to known why, read this story.
Disclaimer:- See part one
Rating:- PG13
Quick
recap:- (Okay, not so quick then) Janeway and Chakotay met on the Icarus, fall
in love then he apparently dies on a Cardassian moon. Upset, she finds out that he was actually a Ranger assigned to
protect her and goes to talk to Justin Tighe, a fellow ranger. They then fall in love and plan to marry,
until both Justin and Admiral Janeway are killed in a shuttle accident. Janeway grieves, but then recovers and takes
a post- command class and becomes the first officer on a science vessel. Chakotay meanwhile, now a full member of
Sector 31, was assigned to stop the shuttle from exploding killing Justin and
Adm. Janeway. A big conspiracy is
unravelling and he finds himself at the centre of it. A year later, he is assigned to track down a Cardassian infiltrator
who was on DS4. There he meets up with
Janeway who finds to her shock that her first love is not dead. Much arguing and harsh words later, Chakotay
captures his infiltrator who had befriended Janeway to get information from her
about Chakotay. He and the infiltrator
are then apparently killed in another shuttle accident and it is only then that
Janeway realises just how much she still loves Chakotay. Returning to her quarters, she’s surprised
to find him there and takes the opportunity to clear some of the air. They end up making love until he leaves,
slipping off into the night. A couple
of months later she finds herself pregnant, only to lose the child in a shuttle
accident, Chakotay blaming himself because it involved Sector 31. Returning briefly, he tells Kathryn to get
on with her life and forget about him.
She does and six years later the Maquis is created. Janeway get promoted to Captain, meets a
Vulcan named Tuvok and is eventually given Voyager, her orders; track down
Chakotay and bring him in…
So, on with the tale
Enjoy!
*-*-*
IGNORANCE
PART VII
*-*-*
THE BEGINNING CONTINUED
*-*-*
Damn, at this rate she was going to be late.
Increasing her pace, Kathryn Janeway rounded the corner and came upon the transporter room. Good, there it was, at this rate she was only going to be no more then a minute or two late, although the delay had been unavoidable, her briefing taking longer then expected. What was it with Admirals that prevented them from doing anything at a decent speed?
Nodding to the Ensign, she briefly brushed down her pristine black and red uniform before stepping onto the transporter pad. Well, she had to make sure she was looking her best now, didn’t see? A few seconds later, the world suddenly began to disappear.
“You’re late.”
Blinking, her rapid intake told her that she was now in another transporter room, her transporter room on her new ship; Voyager. Well, once it was finished anyway. Moving her gaze, her eyes resting on an aging figure in a red admirals’ uniform in front and slightly to the left of her. Well, in her opinion the years had not been too bad for him, for although he looked older, as was expected, there was still a twinkle in his eyes that she would recognise anywhere.
“Sorry sir,” she replied good naturedly, but offered no explanation.
“What’s the threshold of the H2 molecule?”
“14.7 electron volts,” she responded instantly.
“Third brightest star in Orion?”
“Viewed from where?”
“Earth.”
“Gamma Orinais, or Belatric if you prefer the original Arabic name.”
It was the very slight twitch of the admiral’s lips that finally gave him away.
“Not bad,” he commented with a nod, “now, give me a hug Katie, that’s an order.”
Her face breaking into a big smile, she stepped from the platform into the outstretched arms of an old mentor and friend who was second only to Admiral Paris.
“I wasn’t expecting a pop quiz,” she laughed slightly as she drew away.
“Just making sure those pips haven’t made you forget you’re a scientist at heart,” he admitted motioning her towards the door.
“How could they,” she quipped, frowning slightly at the memories as she followed him into the corridor beyond, “I still have nightmares about your fractal calculus final.”
The corridor, much like the transporter room, had a clean almost sterile smile to it. That would go in time though, to be replaced by a much more homely feel.
“There’s still some work to be done,” the admiral admitted as they passed another officer in gold working at an open hatch, “but once the sawdust clears, I think you’ll be impressed. Voyager may not be as big as a galaxy class ship, but she’s quick and smart, like her captain.”
Kathryn couldn’t help but smile, she had always been one of the admiral’s favourite pupils, despite the arguments they would get into.
“Seven hundred metric tonnes, fifteen decks, computer systems augmented with biometric circuitry,” she recited stepping into the turbolift, “top cruising speed, warp 9.975.”
“Deck one.”
“Of course I plan on getting that up another notch or two.”
“Sounds like you already know your ship pretty well,” the Admiral smiled.
“I’ve been buried in its schematics for the past three months,” she admitted. “I could walk the corridor blindfolded.”
“You might not want to shut your eyes just yet,” he smiled walking out. “Captain on the Bridge!”
About twenty people suddenly snapped to attention as she followed him out. My god, this place was huge, much, much bigger then the Bridge on the Bonestell, and so wide and beautiful.”
“As you were,” she motioned to the crew, slowly walking forward to rest her hands on the rail separating the back of the Bridge from the command seating area. Two chairs, one directly below her and one to her left; captain’s and first officer’s. Conn was right at the front, security/tactical by her right at the back, mirrored by Operations to her far left. A perfect symmetrical design.
“It’s bigger then I expected,” she admitted, slowly moving to walk down the two steps.
“Schematics never really prepare you for the real thing,” the Admiral smiled, observing the way she was studying the Captain’s chair. Her chair. “Try it on,” he suggested.
Turning, Kathryn gently eased herself into it, her size threatening to be engulfed by the frame, but not her stature. Crossing her legs, she realised that she could well get used to this.
“Don’t get too comfortable,” the voice beside her warned gently, “I have more to show you.”
Rising to her feet, she nodded slightly and was led into a room off to the right of the Bridge.
“You’re home away from home.”
Now had she thought the Bridge relatively large, it was practically nothing compared to her ready room. Now she had seen a great number of ready rooms over the years, but this was definitely the largest, bigger even then the ready room on the Galaxy class ships. Designed in a pale green, it felt homely and comfortable already. Opposite the door was obviously her desk, jotting out fro the wall in an almost ‘L’ shape. On the far right was a wall with self that would easily hold any personal artefacts. To her left stretched the rest of the room. A wall of windows allowed her the opportunity to look out at the stars while sitting on the pale green couch that ran below them. A replicator was fixed on the wall opposite the door, part of the ‘discussion’ area and in front of the couch, a nice sized glass coffee table.
“Coffee?” she offered suddenly, making her way up the steps and across to the replicator.
“Arh, no thanks,” came the reply.
“Coffee, black,” she ordered, a smile lighting up her face as the mug materialized in front of her. With all the meetings today, she had missed her normal coffee fix and felt more then over due for her next one. Savouring the thick, smooth aroma, she slowly started to ship it, relieved to find the replicators actually working, before turning back to where the Admiral was waiting.
“Any word from Tuvok?” she asked suddenly, a lethargic feeling coming over her when thinking of her friend. She almost wished he could be with her, if only to point out how illogical her sentimental feelings were.
“Not yet,” came the reply she had expected.
“Shouldn’t he have made contact by now?”
“We know he’s aboard Chakotay’s ship. He’s probably decided not to risk exposure until he has to.”
Mention of Chakotay brought up a torrent of emotions. It had been over six years since she had read his letter and pledged to herself to move on and continue with her life. Then she had believed never to see him again, but now she was being forced to re-evaluate her life, her career, even her relationship with Mark. But then again, what relation? The whole thing was a practical farce. They were supposed to be engaged after all, so how comes it had reached this far then? Or was she deep down still only thinking about Chakotay?
She still loved him, both of then actually, but each in a different way. With Mark it was a more comfortable, friendly love, while with Chakotay just the briefest memories could make her lose concentration. What it would be like with him on her ship she did not dare to contemplate.
Then again, that was the other question. What was he doing in the Maquis anyway? Was this really a mission to apprehend him, or was that merely the cover for a rescue mission of some kind? Was he in some kind of danger? Was he still alive? For all they knew, he could be dead by now, or so well hidden he would be virtually impossible to find, even with a vessel like Voyager. What if he had really defected? With the skills he no doubt possessed, as well as the experience, this could be a challenge. Unless… there was someone who knew the area, had been on Chakotay’s ship even. Someone like Thomas Eugene Paris for instance.
She had heard, only a week ago, that the young Paris had served with Chakotay, but had deserted and been caught. She had decided there and then to do something for the guy, if only as a favour to his father to say thank you for all her had done for her over the years.
“Catching up with him in the Badlands is going to be tricky,” she admitted, leaning against the back of the chair, “even in a ship as quick and smart as Voyager. I’ve heard about a pilot who might make the job easier.”
“Who’s that?”
“Tom Paris.”
“Admiral Paris’ son,” he frowned slightly. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but he’s serving…”
“He’s made some mistakes,” she pointed out quickly, holding his eyes, “but everyone deserves a second chance.”
The Admiral seemed to look doubtful for a moment, but one look into her eyes said she was serious.
“I’ll look into it,” he conceded.
That was all she could ask for.
“If it’s not too late,” she suddenly continued, brightening considerably as she moved to stride back out onto her bridge, “I’d like to recalibrate the navigation sensors, I think I can enhance the range.”
“You’re coffee’s not even cold, you’re already making changes?” the admiral smiled as he followed her over to the conn.
“Excuse us Ensign,” Janeway asked politely as they reached the station. “I like a ship who knows where she’s going,” she continued.
“I assure you Voyager has the best sensors in the fleet.”
“Well, there’s always room for improvement, wasn’t that your motto Admiral?”
*-*-*
The bunk was hard beneath him, but he was used to it by now. Staring up at the ceiling, Chakotay found sleep hard to come by. He could feel the tension building around him. The Cardassians, the Maquis, Starfleet. He knew his time with the Maquis was running short, his days numbered, but truth be told, he didn’t want to go. It wasn’t as if he was enjoying himself here, not with the fact he could trust no-one and anyone was a spy, but the fact was, he did not want to go back to section 31.
He had been away fro over a year and had little intention of going back now. For the first time in over a decade, he had control of his own life, being able to go where he wanted, when he wanted and do what he wanted and how. There was no Sloan checking is every move. There was no guilt about what his own actions would bring about. He did not have to lead interrogation sessions, leave rooms with the screaming agony of prisoners ringing in his ears, pretend to be people he wasn’t. Here in the Maquis, it was different. He could be himself and even if his life was in danger, so be it, he would rather die then go back to Section 31.
He had even told Tuvok that. It had not taken much to figure out the Vulcan. He had after all seen the list of all past and present ’31 members, well, part of it anyway, before it had been destroyed. The Vulcan’s name had been there so too had a description.
Neither of them mentioned ’31 directly, but they both knew. Chakotay only needed to say, “I’m never going back,” for the Vulcan to understand, so Tuvok continued with his secondary objective; protection. They both knew that it would not be long now until ‘Starfleet’ came after them both. It would only be another month or so before the USS Voyager would be complete. Tuvok never told him, but Chakotay guessed which vessel would be sent after them. A renegade Section 31 operative hiding as a cell leader in the Maquis, stood to reason they would send the newest most up-to-date vessel after him if they were ever to have a chance at all. What he did not know, however, was which Captain would take control of the new Intrepid class vessel. He never asked and Tuvok never hinted, but to him, it made no difference; he was not going back and that was final.
*-*-*
“Your briefing room.”
Walking in, Janeway stopped, her lips pursing together as she gripped her now half empty coffee mug. What was wrong with the designers? Decorated in the same colour scheme as her ready room; a soft peppermint green, she found the room feeling a little… now what was it? Cold? Yes, that was the closest. Cold. It was hard to believe that this was one of the most important places on the ship, where the senior officers would meet probably at least once every second day, or if Tuvok had his way, twice a day.
“Starfleet’s most up-to-date vessel and they still can’t design a comfortable place to hold a meeting,” she announced, glancing round to notice the blond Ensign from the Bridge standing by one of the consoles. “What do you think Ensign?”
“Captain?”
“What’s your opinion of this room?”
She suddenly got the distinct impression that the Ensign was at a loss of words. No doubt, she had to find something neutral to say that could not contradict either the captain or the designers.
“It is… an efficient design,” she said finally.
Janeway felt her lips twitching. Well, you could not get much more neutral then that could you?
“Now, there you have it Admiral,” she smiled in mock defeat, “it’s efficient, I must be wrong. Carry on,” she nodded to the Ensign before putting down her mug and walking out.
Joined by the Admiral, they made their way to the nearest turbolift.
“I hear you’ve put that poor lad of yours out of his misery and agreed to marry him Katie.”
Well, looks like good news travelled fast in a place like this she reasoned. Actually, she suspected that Admiral Paris may have had a hand in getting the news around and she smiled inwardly at the truth.
“Well you know,” she shrugged, the doors sliding open. “It had been six years now and Mark’s mother was starting to pressure him again.”
“Deck six.”
“Apparently, she wanted grandchildren soon.”
This time it was the Admiral’s turn to raise the eyebrow.
“Not thinking of settling down just yet are you?”
“No,” she grinned as the lift stopped, “could you image that?”
“A pregnant Captain could be worse,” he stated neutrally as they reached their next destination. “Arh, here we are, sickbay. We’ve added a new system we’re thinking of installing throughout the fleet…”
“The Emergency Medical Hologram,” she nodded. “I’m up-to-date. Computer, activate EMH.”
“Please state the nature of the medical emergency.”
Interesting… Kathryn found herself imitating Tuvok’s eyebrow raising as she studied this new piece of technology. He actually looked real, for a hologram that is, except for, of course, the hair, or obvious lack there of.
“It’s programmed with over four million surgical procedures,” she was informed.
“Five million actually,” the hologram corrected coming to life with a smug tone of voice that suggested that he knew everything. “And the medical knowledge of over three thousand cultures.”
“Impressive,” she announced smoothly.
“Did you call me here to chit chat,” the hologram continued with the annoying tone of disrespect of rank and position, “or is there an actual emergency.”
“It’s personality could use some work,” Kathryn pointed out dryly, much to the hologram’s disgust.
“I’m designed to practice medicine as effectively as possible,” he objected, “small talk only compromises my performance.”
Obviously.
“Thank you Doctor.” From the Admiral’s tone, Kathryn found it glad for the sake of the hologram she was commanding Voyager and not the admiral. “Computer, deactivate EMH.”
*-*-*
The air was warm, but without the stifling heat as the warm sun beat down on the planet below. Spirits were high; they were off the ship and had survived yet another attack as they fled to the Badlands, but they were alive.
A fair distance away, the leader watched as his mongrel crew moved around the camp site, each doing their part to build up this safe haven of a settlement. They were safe here, for the moment at least, but how long that would last they weren’t sure. Both Starfleet and the Cardassians continued to home in on their position, becoming more and more daring in their attacks. Only the fear of the Badlands kept them at bay, but fear was only there, of course, to be challenged and conquered.
Recent reports suggested that Voyager was practically ready to launch, although its Captain was still a mystery. All he knew was that this Captain was one of the best in the fleet, talented, resourceful, experienced in battle and someone who would never give up. Good, a challenge then.
That gave him about two and a half weeks then roughly. Two weeks to make a plan and make a difference. A raid was planned for the next week, the beginning of his plan. He would not be going back without a fight, that much was certain.
*-*-*
“Two minutes to your destination.”
Snapped out of her thoughts, Kathryn nodded her answer.
Three things had happened that day to put many things on her mind. Firstly and most worrying, her beloved dog Molly appeared to be ill. Growing up on a farm, she had always had a dog and had discovered early on that they were indeed man’s best friend. Molly was her third and latest dog, having raised her from a puppy some years earlier. Now though something was wrong and Kathryn did not like it when something was wrong with her friend. It worried her, especially when she wasn’t around. Mark would look after her though, he always did.
The second piece of news was that Voyager was now complete, two weeks before schedule. Launch had therefore been moved forward to next week.
Thirdly and probably most importantly, Command had finally given her the go ahead on her idea. That was why she was now entering New Zealand.
“It is now safe to leave the transport.”
Climbing out, she was surprised to find how warm it actually was here, especially in her red command uniform. Following the path, she made her way to the main desk, stating her name and business. Pointed in the right direction, she declined escort and slowly made her way over to where most of the noise was coming from.
Silently approaching, she stood and watched for a moment, observing the young man working away below her, seemingly oblivious to her nearness. His hair was fair, probably bleached a little by the sun, his figure tall and slight, but still strong. From what she could tell, he still maintained the impish boy-like look she had first seen over ten years before, on a picture in his father’s office.
“Tom Paris.”
Stopping his work, he looked up, blue eyes meeting hers in a daring sort of fashion.
“Kathryn Janeway,” she introduced with a slight smile. “I served with your father on the Al-Batarni. I wonder if we could go somewhere and talk?..”
*-*-*
The raid had initially been a success, until they walked straight into the trap. The Cardassian ship had been lying in wait for them, they had known that they would be there. The only thing Chakotay could come up with was that someone had tipped them off. But who? Was it him they were personally after or just his crew in general because they were Maquis?
This was not the time to be thinking like that, Chakotay snapped his thoughts back to reality. B’Elanna’s voice behind him announcing angrily that she couldn’t get anything more out of the engines.
“Be creative,” he snapped back, ignoring her reply as the view screen flickered on. The Cardassian ship was hailing them.
“Maquis ship, this is Gul Evek of the Cardassian fourth order, cut your engines and prepare to surrender and we…”
Pushing a button, he switched off the screen. Well, now he had his answer. It was him they were after personally, and they wanted him alive. Maybe that in itself would work in their favour.
“Initiating evasive pattern omega… mark,” he announced as a warning, tipping the ship sharply away from the hard beating of phaser fire the Cardassians were throwing at them.
“Shields down to fifty percent.”
Damn it, he wasn’t about to give up now. The Cardassians were not about to win this battle and he had no intention of losing his life which would be the outcome if they captured him. He’s kill himself before they got any information from him.
In front of him, he could see the Badlands looming ever closer, its orange swirls a haven for the crew if only they could get there. Behind him he could hear B’Elanna and Tuvok arguing the best way to get power to the engines, any power.
“Tuvok, shut down all phaser banks,” he ordered calmly despite the raging emotions around him. “If you an give me another thirty seconds at full impulse I’ll get us into the Badlands,” and to safety he added silently.
“Phasers off line.”
It wasn’t going to be enough was it? They still needed more power, more speed.
“Throw the last photons at them and then give me the power from the torpedo systems,” he conceded. That had to be enough, it had to be.
“Acknowledged, firing photons.”
He could feel the engines responding as they were flooded with new energy. This would work. It had to. All they had to do now was to get away from the Cardassian’s clutches. Escape the lion’s mouth.
“Are you reading any plasma storms ahead?”
“One,” came the reply, “Co-ordinates 1-7-1 mark 4-3.”
Jaw clenched, he knew he had to take the risk.
“That’s were I’m going,” he announced grimily.
“Plasma storm intensity increasing by fourteen percent,” Tuvok announced in his calm stoic way, “twenty, twenty-five.”
“Hold on.” Tipping the ship, he took them in, finally reaching the Badlands and the dangers that itself contained.
“Cardassian ship is not reducing power,” Tuvok stated without pause, “they’re following us in.”
Damn it. They weren’t going to give him up without a fight were they?
“Gul Evek must feel daring today,” he conceded, throwing in an explanation for the Cardassian’s strange behaviour.
Then it was over. They were safe.
“They’ve taken a hit on their port blade,” the Vulcan reported, the faintest hint of relief in his tone. He too of course knew what capture would ensure. “They’re sending out a distress signal on all Cardassian frequencies.”
It was over… for now. But he who fights and runs away, lives to fight another day.
Rising to his feet, Chakotay moved to leave Tuvok to plot a course through the plasma fields. He had important work to do. Someone on this crew had betrayed him and he was determined to find out who.
“We can use this time to make some repairs,” he reported, stopping only as a bright light flashed across the Bridge. “What was that?” Another trap? A plasma storm? What?
“Curious,” he heard the Vulcan state as he retook his seat, “we’ve just past through some kind of coherent tetrian beam.”
Tetrian beam? Some kind of trap?
“Source?”
“Unknown. Now there appears to be a massive displacement wave moving towards us.”
“Another storm?”
“It is not a plasma phenomenon.”
Damn it, not now, not now.
“At current speeds, it will intercept us in less then thirty seconds.”
If this was some sort of elaborate Cardassian trap then it was a damn good one.
“Anything left in those impulse generators B’Elanna?”
“We’ll find out.”
No matter what they did, no matter what they tried, Chakotay knew it wasn’t going to work. He could feel it.
“It’s still exceeding our speeds.”
So this was it then. The end.
“Maximum power.”
“Wave is continuing to accelerate. It will intercept us in eight seconds… five…”
The end then. This was how it ended.
*-*-*
Molly’s fur was smooth and Kathryn found that she could quite willingly stroke it forever.
Her mind though wasn’t on her beloved mutt, although never far from her. She was currently contemplating the meeting from earlier in the day.
Thomas Eugene Paris had struck her as a bit of an enigma. Despite being the son of the Admiral, she felt that young Tom was nothing like his father, both in appearance and in personality. Tall and slight, he took his build from his mother’s side of the family, as well as his fair hair and facial features. The only thing he shared with his father were the eyes, the same shade blue and the way they held your gaze square on regardless.
There was, however, an air of pride about the young man. He knew he had done wrong, yet he wasn’t afraid to stand up straight. She found she liked that about him if only he would loose that cock-sure arrogance. He seemed to use sarcasm and wit to keep people way, including her, and she wondered if it was because he was afraid of getting hurt should he allow anyone to touch him. In some ways he almost reminded her of the Justin Tighe she had first met; confident, sure of himself, yet afraid of intimacy and friendship.
“What do you think Molly? Do you think I can help him?”
Big dark brown eyes lifted to meet hers, before the head dropped once more to her lap. Wait a minute. Stopping the stoking, she gently mover her hand around, frowning as the thought grew.
“Mark,” she called suddenly, “Mark, come her a moment.”
“Just a sec Kath,” the familiar voice called back. A few moments later, a head poked round the door, tea towel in hand, as he dried his hands. “What is it Love?”
“I think I know what’s wrong with Molly,” she grinned broadly.
“What?”
“She’s pregnant. She’s going to be a mother.”
The look on Mark’s face was priceless. Surprise, amazement, and wonder soon faded into absolute horror.
“No way,” he said fiercely noticing her look, “absolutely not. We are not keeping the puppies…”
“But Honey…”
“Don’t you dare ‘Honey’ me Kath,” he replied fiercely. “One dog fine, more, no!”
“But…”
A sudden bleeping noise interrupted her plea and glancing across she found she had an urgent communiqué from headquarters. Her smile fading, she slowly rose to her feet. Something must have happened, she figured. Passing Mark, she smiled ruefully. “This isn’t over yet,” she declared, before reaching her office to take the call.
“Yes Admiral, what is it?”
The Admiral’s face was grim as he greeted her, even more so then when she had greeted him on Voyager’s transporter room just a month earlier.
“Katie, we’re getting reports from the Badlands and it doesn’t look good. The vessel Chakotay was on had appeared to have vanished, no trace of it had been found. Reports show it was chased into the Badlands by a Cardassian cruiser, but then while there it vanished.”
Oh my God. Chakotay was on that ship, and Tuvok.
“Was it destroyed?”
“We don’t know,” the Admiral responded seriously. “No wreckage or evidence had been found to support that, but anything is possible. For this reason, we’re moving forward Voyager’s launch date. Katie, you leave tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?!”
“We know it’s soon, but it’s necessary. I’m sure you’re crew will understand.”
Again, she thought bitterly, then a thought struck her.
“Admiral, two important members of my crew won’t be available if we launch tomorrow.”
“Which ones?”
“My operations officer, Harry Kim is currently on Batezed with his girlfriend and won’t be returning home for another two days, and our guide, Tom Paris won’t be released for another two days pending the paper work.”
Hesitating, the Admiral had a feeling Kathryn wasn’t about to leave without them. Turning away slightly, she could see that he was talking to someone else behind him, who, she couldn’t tell.
“That shouldn’t be too much of a problem Katie,” he conceded after the pause. “We want Voyager to rendez-vous with the Explorer first anyway before heading on to DS9. That should give us plenty of time to get Mr Kim and Mr Paris to DS9 to meet you. Is that okay.”
Well, the best she could have hoped for.
“Agreed.”
“Good, now we’re sending you your new briefing and will be contacting each of your crew to inform them of the change. Hopefully they’ll be no more problems and I’ll see you at the launch tomorrow fourteen hundred hours. Good luck Katie.” And then the screen when blank.
Great, she thought, sitting back, just great. Now, how to tell Mark she would be leaving tomorrow?
*-*-*
The throbbing in his head wouldn’t cease, nor would the feeling that something significant had just happened.
Carefully lifting his head, Chakotay glanced around, his eyes grim as he took in the result of striking that wave, what ever it had been. Everyone around him seemed to have been thrown somewhere, but all appeared to be alive if the groaning was anything to go by.
Damn it, he cursed as he checked the ship’s systems, sensors were damages again. For some reason that pin pointed their position as being over seventy-five thousand light years from the Badlands. They were going nowhere without those damn sensors working.
“B’Elanna.”
“Yeah,” the muffled reply came.
“Get on those sensors. They’re malfunctioning again and we need them.”
“On it.”
“Tuvok? What’s our weapons and engines status?”
“Off line,” came the stoic answer after a pause.
Damn it!
“View screen?”
“Should be working.”
Switching it on, the bile rose up in his throat at the view that greeted them. What the hell was that? A Cardassian illusion? Some kind of trip or trap? What? What was it?
Glancing across, he watched the Vulcan frown, so Tuvok had never seen anything like this either then.
“Umm… Chakotay…”
Glancing down, he watched as B’Elanna pulled herself up from under the console.
“The sensors are working perfectly. I can’t find anything wrong with them.”
What the hell?
“Why? What do they say?
He showed her, her answer; a string of Klingon he was not about to translate.
*-*-*
Four days had passed since Voyager’s launch. Four days and she had been right. Smiling slightly, Kathryn leaned back in her new ready room chair, her mind replaying that last conversation with Mark. So, Molly was pregnant then. He really could read her like a book though. ‘Love me, love my dog’ indeed, but didn’t that sum up their whole relationship though? If you want me, you’ll have to take me on my own terms.
The chime on her door ringing, she dragged herself away from those thoughts.
“Come in.”
Arhh, just the two people she wanted to see.
Voyager had docked at Deep Space Nine only a few hours earlier, patiently waiting for the arrival of the two newest members of the crew, while undergoing one final briefing.
Tom Paris certainly looked different from the last time she had seen him, the red and black of his uniform suiting him. Harry Kim on the other hand, she was yet to meet, and it showed. The poor Ensign looked almost petrified as he stood bean pole straight. God, had she ever looked so young? But he was the best, or so she had been told. Maybe that was why she had picked him.
“Gentlemen,” she nodded, walking round to the front of her desk, *her* desk, leaning against it as she studied them, “welcome aboard Voyager.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
Ensign Kim’s crisp reply brought a twitch to her lips. Had she ever been so young, so inexperienced? Was this how she had come across to Admiral Paris at first, or maybe even Justin?
“Mr Kim,” she responded sharply, but the humour was refusing to leave her tone, “at ease before you sprain something.”
The surprised, almost concerned, look that crept into his eyes was a tribute in itself, yet his body only relaxed marginally. So, this young man would be a challenge then.
“Ensign,” she continued with a slight smile, “despite Starfleet protocol, I don’t like being addressed as ‘Sir’.”
“I’m sorry, Ma’am!”
She would see the wince on Paris face as Kim replied and it was all she could do to stop herself from laughing.
“Ma’am is acceptable in a crunch,” she reasoned, “but I prefer Captain. Now, we’re ready to leave, let me show you to the Bridge.”
Leading them out, she glanced behind her at the younger Paris.
“Did you have any problems getting here Mr Paris?” she asked politely.
“Not at all…” he replied with a touch of that cocksure tone, before adding, “…*Captain*.”
So, Mr Kim had amused him too then, although she was sure young Harry wouldn’t pick up on the sarcasm.
Ignoring Paris’ response, she stopped as they reached the centre of the Bridge, a tall, greying man rising to greet them.
“My First Officer, Lieutenant Commander Cavett,” she introduced. “Ensign Kim, Mr Paris.”
Reaching out a hand, he shook Harry’s hand, put plainly made a point of ignoring Paris as he greeted them. Damn it, she would have to have words with him about that later. Truth be told, she was still fuming at Command for not being able to chose her own first officer.
Shooting a quick glance at Tom, she tried to reassure him, slightly relieved to find that the young man did not appear ruffled by the lack of hospitality. Water off a duck’s back, she thought wryly, before switching her attention back to the young ensign.
“Ensign Kim,” she guided towards the back of the Bridge, “this is your station. Would you like to take over?”
“Yes Ma’am.”
This time she could only stop half the smile.
“It’s not crunch time yet Mr Kim,” she teased gently, touching him reassuringly on the arm. “I’ll let you know when.”
Turning, she nodded to Cavett, ordering them to get underway, before slowly making her way over to her seat.
“Initiate launching sequence,” she heard him order as she sat.
“Sequence underway.”
But as the Captain, she got to give the final one word order.
“Engage!”
*-*-*
TBC
