TITLE: A Sense of History
AUTHOR: Sally M
SUMMARY: Chakotay’s built quite a collection of objects during his time on Voyager. On their final night onboard, Kathryn and Chakotay come together to sort through it.
RATING: PG
DISCLAIMER: Story – mine, characters – theirs, well, most of them.
Thanks, as always, to SaRa, for teaching me new things about grammar!
The noise had been going for some time now, Kathryn realised as she pulled her head out of her closet. First would come a thump, then a muffled curse in his own language, followed by a barely audible groan. He was obviously involved in the same task as she was, packing in order to leave Voyager, but he was evidently having a harder time of it than she was.
“Janeway to Chakotay.” The answer came through the wall by way of a large crash, followed by the sounds of someone attempting to cross what must be a very cluttered floor area. “Never mind,” she chuckled. “Janeway out.”
Her curiosity now peaked, she put her own task to one side, exited her bedroom, and left her quarters. If nothing else, she attempted to reason, it sounded as though Chakotay was desperately in need of some help. At his door she paused, and then keyed in her override.
“Need some help?” she called out cheerfully as she entered.
“Kathryn?” The voice came from the bedroom.
“No,” she retorted. “It’s Neelix.”
“Ha ha, very funny.”
She got to his bedroom and stopped in the open doorway in amazement. Everywhere she looked there were storage boxes. They were on the floor, on the bed, in the open closet. “What is all this?” she gasped.
“My,” Chakotay paused briefly and his head emerged from around one stack on boxes, “stuff.” He winced as he said it.
“Your stuff?” Kathryn repeated. “You had less than I did when you came on board. How the hell did you manage to accumulate so much?”
He stood up and wiped his hands on his pants. “Actually, a lot of it is historical artefacts, from the different planets we visited.”
She gaped at him. “You took it?”
“No. I was given a lot of it. Once some of our contacts discovered my interest in archaeology, I was presented with it as gestures of goodwill.” He shrugged. “It’s nothing too valuable for them to lose. Meanwhile, I thought about maybe putting together a museum collection once we got back. ‘Delta Quadrant Artefacts’ or something.” He took a despairing look around. “However, I had no clue that I’d gathered so much.”
“What are you trying to do?”
“Roughly catalogue it,” he replied. “I’d like to create a definitive list of everything I have.”
“Want some help?”
He looked very relieved. “Would you mind?”
Kathryn laughed and sat down on a clear corner of the bed. “Not at all. Pass me a padd and I can enter in whatever you tell me.”
“Thanks.” He began to recite off various facts about different items; what they were, where they had come from, who had donated. Kathryn quickly entered in the details. Eventually she became aware of the silence and looked up.
“What is it?”
He was holding up a decorative bowl. “This,” he smiled sadly, “is from Kes. It’s a… it’s a… well, it was actually supposed to be a gift to you.”
“For me?” her eyes widened.
“Yes.” Chakotay looked a little awkward. “It has a special significance, but she didn’t tell me that at first. Anyway,” he said quickly, “it’s an Ocampan ceremonial bowl, presented by Kes of Ocampa.” He hastened on to the next item.
“So why isn’t Seven helping you?” Kathryn asked idly a few minutes later.
Chakotay laughed. “She took one look and declared that history was irrelevant.”
“It probably is, considering her own. Do you think she’ll ever call herself Annika?”
He shrugged. “Probably not. I’ve thought about trying the name out, but something always seems to stop me.”
“Hmn,” Kathryn mused. “Well, you know the old saying. ‘Those who do not learn from history are condemned to repeat it.’ What?” Chakotay was grinning at her. “Phoebe married a history teacher. She quotes it a lot in her letters.”
Chakotay pulled out another item. “Damn,” he muttered softly. “This was also meant for you.” He passed over a small metal item, with a chain affixed to it.
“Amelia Earhart’s dogtags,” Kathryn breathed. “I always thought these were in a museum already.”
“Different set if they are.” He looked apologetic. “She wanted you to have them, but I guess they got mixed in with some other stuff I got from there. I’m sorry.”
She smiled back. “It’s okay,” she replied. “It’s amazing just to actually have them.” She put the chain over her head and held the band of metal gently in her hand. “Thank you.”
Down near the bottom of one of the last boxes was a strange metallic item that made Chakotay shudder as he drew it out. “I don’t know why I have this.”
Kathryn peered at it. “It looks Borg.”
“It is,” he told her quietly. “It’s one of yours actually.” He shook his head. “When we got you back, and saw what the Borg had done to you… Tom felt the same. It’s different with Seven; we didn’t know her before she was assimilated, though occasionally I still have flashes of a scared little girl on the Raven. Residual flashes, I suppose, from when I was linked with her. But it wasn’t the same compared to when I saw you and B’Elanna in sickbay.” He took a deep, cleansing breath. “You know, you, Picard and she could make a pretty good discussion team on the subject of the Borg.”
“Seven’s probably going to be highly in demand,” Kathryn commented. “The information she has on the Borg is quite valuable to the Federation.”
“Yeah,” Chakotay grimaced, “and they probably won’t be able to get rid of me fast enough.”
“I doubt it.” Kathryn was quick to reassure. “You’ve been quite valuable yourself over the past few years.” Trying to put the Borg artefact and all the resulting memories and emotions, out of her mind, she glanced around the room. “I can’t believe you even have stuff in your closet. Where are your clothes?”
“I recycle them. I only need a couple of things, besides my uniform. I’m not like you, who feels the need to have a different outfit every time she appears on the holodeck.” A smile appeared at the corners of his mouth.
“I do not,” Kathryn retorted. “Besides,” she continued, crossing her arms over her chest, “I recycle too. I just have certain clothing preferences.” Her face turned slightly pink and she grinned. “Mind you, I do still have that blue jumpsuit thing from Quarra.”
“You’re kidding.” Chakotay shook his head. “That thing was so not you, Kathryn. It was skin-tight.”
“And there was I thinking you liked that style of clothing,” Kathryn pouted. “I don’t know that I shouldn’t be offended.”
“Yeah, well, trust me, Seven won’t be staying in those catsuits for long.” Chakotay ignored Kathryn’s raised eyebrow at the comment. “My sister will never tolerate it.”
“You are going to introduce her to your family, then?” Kathryn asked.
“I think so”
“Good.” Kathryn smiled warmly at her friend. “I wish you all the best.” She picked up the long discarded padd. “Now, what’s next?”
PART TWO
“Welcome to Voyager,” the guide said, smiling at her tour group. “As I’m sure many of you are aware, the ship turned one hundred last year. Quite an achievement for a Starfleet vessel, but then few become museums.” The children stared in a mixture of awe and disbelief; all had heard the Voyager story from their history teacher. Now they were standing in one of its turbolifts, just outside the bridge. “What you’re going to see first is the bridge, Captain Janeway’s ready room, and also the briefing room, where you’ll find more information about the ship’s senior crew. Now, I do have to warn you about the holographic figures you’ll see…”
Voyager, one hundred years old, was a museum piece. It had been retired upon its arrival back in the Alpha Quadrant and, after an extensive refit, had begun a new life as an exhibit five years later. No longer did uniformed crew roam its corridors. Instead, tourists flocked to it from all over the Federation, and it had long overtaken Alcatraz as San Francisco’s top attraction.
The tour continued. The guide talked and the children, who were around twelve years old, were encouraged to ask questions. Such groups were typical.
“And here we come to Chakotay’s office,” the guide said, pointing to an open doorway.
“Was he really an outlaw?” one boy asked, excitement glowing in his eyes.
The guide laughed. “Well, I guess he was. Many thought he was a traitor, leaving Starfleet as he did. Certainly, his crimes were considered serious enough for the Federation to want to capture him, which is, of course, why Voyager was sent after him.” She looked over at the group of parent chaperones. “Have you read the book he co-wrote with Captain Janeway?” The adults nodded. “In it, there is a wonderful old quote that he uses. ‘Those who cannot learn from history are condemned to repeat it.’ In the twentieth century, a British leader named Neville Chamberlain made a treaty with Adolf Hitler. It was, of course, and a huge mistake. We know that now.”
A girl with dark eyes and black hair spoke up. “That was a bad time in my people’s history.” She wore a small Star of David around her neck. “My mommy says we should never forget it.”
“And you shouldn’t,” the guide replied. “Humans like to think that we’ve moved beyond that now, but the treaties made with Cardassia were similar to the ones made with Hitler. Territories and planets, such as the one Chakotay was from, were left to fend for themselves and were eventually destroyed by the Cardassians.” She paused. “By all accounts, Chakotay was an upright, loyal man, someone you could trust. And in his book he certainly doesn’t come across as a cold-hearted killer, someone who stood up for what he believed in.”
She began ushering the children into the room. “This was his dream, to one day have an exhibit of some of the artefacts he collected in the Delta Quadrant. He loved history. Take a look around while I chat with your parents, and if you have any questions – ask.” She didn’t need to remind them not to touch; there were individual force fields around each item.
The children scattered and the guide turned back to the adults. “What did you make of the book? Did you enjoy it?”
“I’ll say,” one mother laughed. “That’s some story.”
“It was originally meant to be a catalogue of the items here,” the guide replied. “He was going to describe the items, while she explained why they were on that particular planet. But it turned into the story of their lives. I believe it was only finally finished a few years before he died.”
“It’s certainly romantic,” another mother commented. “I always wonder it took so long for them to get together.”
“Starfleet was very different to what it is now,” came the reply. “Back then, commanding officers were not allowed personal relationships with their subordinates, and Chakotay was Janeway’s subordinate.”
“But he had a relationship with Doctor Hansen,” the first mother remembered. “Wasn’t that almost the same?”
“Not quite. Seven of Nine, as she was called then, was a civilian. She was never given a rank on Voyager, and her affiliation with Starfleet only began after 2378.”
“Is that why they broke up? It’s not in the book.”
The guide laughed. “Rumour and speculation abounded, of course it did. But it may have simply been that they grew apart, and the relationship came to a natural end, the way a lot of relationships do.”
“So Janeway didn’t have a hand in it?”
“No. We have other documents that confirm that Janeway was always there for someone whom she considered to be her closest friend. We know she defended him vociferously at his hearing upon their return. But it wasn’t until around the time that Voyager opened as a museum that they realised just what they really meant to each other.”
“Excuse me, Miss,” a young voice interrupted.
“Yes?”
“There’s supposed to be some sort of bowl in here. That’s what the information padd says. But we can’t find it. What happened to it?”
“You mean the Ocampan Mating Bowl?”
“It just says Ocampan ceremonial bowl here.”
The guide laughed. “It was traditionally given by a man to his bride when they married. It’s in the captain’s quarters, next floor down, where some of her personal effects are. We’re actually quite lucky to have it, as it was never officially part of the collection. But after she died, we discovered that the captain had willed it to us. Anyway, you’ll see it shortly. Our next stop is the messhall, home of Neelix’s infamous leola root.”
The tour continued.
FINIS
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