Chakotay palmed the control panel to Sara’s room – actually the small extra storage compartment that had happened to have a cot in it, to find her sitting on the floor, back to the wall, staring at the opposite one. It wasn’t an unusual activity for her; she could sit stiller than still for hours on end and stare at walls. He found it somewhat unnerving.
She stood when he came through the door, clasping her hands in front of her shirt and looking up at him with quiet respect, such as she always gave him, both as her commander and as her friend – if she even considered him that. He thought she did, but had never asked her.
“Bored?” Chakotay’s voice was quiet.
“No sir,” Sara answered automatically, gazing at him steadily with her beautiful crystalline blue eyes, giving him the same respect she had for the last two weeks, the same respect one would give a commanding officer.
But not a friend.
In his hand he held a padd that he extended to her. “Take a look at this.”
Sara sat down on her bunk, taking the padd and flicking through it, her braids falling over her shoulder and cutting a line through her face. Chakotay sat next to her, keeping a slight distance so that her small elbows didn’t jab into him. “I found it on Bajor,” he explained quietly. “It looked rather interesting.”
In truth, he knew what it held – classic stories such as Robinson Crusoe, Moby Dick, Treasure Island and others, along with simple games and some not-so-simple games. Chess, checkers, several versions of cards including gin rummy, poker, solitare, and something called spider solitare that Chakotay hadn’t even begun to figure out. The chess branched from simple two-player – the living player against the padd -- to three-tiered, interdimensional forms at several settings of difficulty.
Chakotay swallowed, looking at Sara as she checked through its contents, her eyes for the first time garnering a bit of sparkle, widening and closing, cheeks flushing a bit as she thumbed the excerpts of certain stories. As she went on he almost saw the haunted shadows fade from her eyes a bit as they glazed, reading further and further.
He didn’t know if she ever suffered loneliness. She wasn’t given to complaints, said nothing and objected even less about any task. Leisure time was the problem, not that Sara said a thing about that either. Being a telepath was an advantage in all things except games of sport, such as cards or chess – she instantly knew her opponent’s next move, could anticipate and counter before they’d so much as completed a strategy.
It made for a solitary existence, or so he surmised. At his last excursion to Bajor for some spare parts and a swift check of other recruits he’d come upon the padd from the salvage pile – part of the loot from a raid, he supposed. When Chakotay checked the contents, he thought that Sara would be able to use something like it.
“Have you read any of these?” he said, just to break the silence that was stretching.
“Some…” she murmured, not taking her eyes from the padd. A small smile flickered on and off her face.
“Well,” Chakotay stood, “I have work to do.” With that, he walked to the door.
“Here.” Sara stood up and extended the padd to him.
“Keep it.” He didn’t turn around.
“What?” Sara was confused. “When do you want it back?”
“I don’t.” Now he did turn, to see her staring at the padd and back at him.
“You mean I can keep it?”
Chakotay sighed in exasperation, rolling his eyes. “I mean if it gets damaged or broken don’t expect me to find another one. Understand?”
Realization spread over her features, smoothing them a bit more, though they remained solemn. “I understand.”
“Good.” He exited, leaving her to discover the mysteries it held. Halfway down the hall he paused, looked back at the door, smiled to himself, and continued about his business.
