#putting them back in the delta quadrant would fix them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

myenterpriseisparked · 3 years

Text

The Voyager Bunch

Or, Rascals: Voyager Edition

-----

Based on this post

This is dedicated to @jellybeansarecool @bizships @emilie786 @joyful-voyager and @subtle-spock for providing ideas, encouragement, and for generally being really awesome people. Also they are the nicest folks ever. Go follow them.

This ain’t my first fanfiction rodeo, but it is my first Star Trek fanfiction rodeo so I beg for your patience. Also, I am perfectly aware that there are some plot holes in here. This is because I am an animal scientist, not a Starfleet physicist/biologist/whateverist. Swiss cheese also has holes and swiss cheese is good so please consider that.

Click here to read on AO3, if you prefer. Thanks for reading!

-----

Despite having only been a captain for a few years, Kathryn Janeway had seen more unusual occurrences, courtesy of the Delta Quadrant, than most Starfleet captains combined. Some days, she felt a little overwhelmed by the summary of the last three years of experiences. Other days, she was grateful for the callouses such challenges had built over her nerves, preparing her to face even the strangest incidents without panicking.

Today was a day to be grateful, because without having seen everything she had seen, the prospect of her Chief Engineer, Chief of Security, Head Helmsman, and most brilliant Ensign being reverted into child-like versions of themselves would have launched her straight into a spiral of panic.

“How-” Janeway paused for a moment to pinch the bridge of her nose, “how exactly did this happen?”

“Well, ya see, ‘Lanna and Harry and I were in that shuttle and then this big black thing showed up and we flew into it and there was a big flash and-”

Janeway held a hand up, cutting off the shockingly fast string of prattle. “I think I understand that part, Tom, thank you.” She spoke as gently and patiently as possible. “What I don’t understand is how Tuvok got into this.... predicament.”

She turned toward the tallest of the four children, who stood with his hands behind his back in a way that would have been exactly like Tuvok, if the pre-teen boy weren’t fidgeting with the hem of his shirt and looking around the bridge, open mouthed and starry-eyed. “Tuvok?”

The Vulcan turned toward her. “The shuttle was stuck in the anomaly and the tractor beam wasn’t working, so I rammed my ship into theirs to dislodge it.” Tuvok nearly smiled, which was jarring to see on his features, no matter how much younger he looked. “It worked, but I got sucked into the anomaly too. When we came out the other side, we looked like this.”

He motioned to Tom and B’Elanna, who were standing next to him, both of which appeared to be around the age of 5 or 6. Harry, who looked to be about a year old, was currently tucked into Chakotay’s arms, playing contentedly with the rank bar at the large man’s throat.

Janeway looked the group over, ignoring the humored smiled playing at her first officer’s lips. With a sigh, she turned to the members of her senior officer team that were not currently under the age of 13. “I’m open to suggestions.”

“I would like to run some experiments first, but I am wondering if I can age their DNA back to the correct age in a process similar to the one I used to turn you and Mr. Paris back into humans after the, ah, Warp 10 incident,” The Doctor said.

“That might put their bodies back at the right age,” Kes said, brow furrowing, “but their minds appear to have reverted to their new biological age as well. Will the DNA reversal process fix that?”

The Doctor tilted his head. “I’m unsure. I need more time to research and run simulations.”

Janeway nodded. “Get started on that right away. In the meantime,” she turned back to the children and her commander, “let’s get you four something to eat.”

Neelix jumped to his feet, practically lighting up the room with his enthusiasm. “I’ll fix you kiddos up something real nice!” He dashed over to the door with a wild grin. “Give me ten minutes, and I’ll have the best grilled cheese sandwich you’ve ever smelt!” He saluted the whole room and practically bounced out the door.

Janeway glanced over at Chakotay who, for the first time since he had picked up baby Harry, looked nervous. His worried glance met her own and he tilted his head.

“Well,” Chakotay sighed, “hopefully these guys aren’t as picky of eaters as I was.”

-----

As unappealing as Janeway found Neelix’s cooking to be, it was, apparently, perfect for kids, as evidenced by the unrestrained glee with which Tom, B’Elanna, and Tuvok devoured their sandwiches.

The captain couldn’t help but smile as Tom downed the second half of his sandwich in a few bites and think how the older version of Tom would have been appalled to see himself eating Neelix’s cooking with such enjoyment.

As the older children ate, Janeway found herself spooning some kind of mashed vegetable mix into Harry’s waiting mouth. At first, she was a little uncomfortable with the idea of feeding one of her best officers, but, once she was able to get past the strangeness of the entire situation, she found herself enjoying the funny expressions and eager attitude of the baby in front of her.

“Gosh, he’s such a cute baby.” She said with a grin for the fourth time.

Chakotay leaned over, his shoulder brushing hers as he smiled at Harry. “I’d like to agree with you, Captain, but you keep hogging him so I can’t get a good look.” He turned to look her in the eye, raising his eyebrow teasingly.

She shoved him playfully with her elbow. “You got to hold him earlier in the conference room. It’s my turn.”

“I think your turn ended about ten minutes ago,” he grinned.

“I think I can find something else for you to do if you’re going to take Harry away from me, Commander.” She returned his grin.

“Fine,” Chakotay shook his head with a chuckle, “but I get him later.”

-----

Several hours had passed since lunch and, much to Chakotay’s disappointment, baby Harry was still firmly in Janeway’s possession, perched on her hip and looking for all the world like he belonged there.

Chakotay tried not to think too much about how naturally Kathryn had taken to caring for Harry as he watched her pace the bridge, checking on various scanner readings and flight paths, from his position on the floor by their command chairs. Beside him, Tom and B’Elanna rolled a ball back and forth between them, excitedly chattering about... well... everything.

“Do you think the whales were really THAT big?” Tom spread his arms out to the side.

“Yeah they were!” B’Elanna exclaimed loudly enough that the entire ship could probably hear it. Despite Chakotay’s best efforts to get her to lower her voice, the young girl seemed to only have one volume. “I saw a big fake one in a museum once and it was HUGE!”

“Whoa!” Tom’s eyes widened. “Bigger than this ship?”

B’Elanna tilted her head. “I don’t know, but it was definitely bigger than me!”

The two kids laughed, rolling the ball back and forth faster.

“Hey Tom?”

“What?”

“You’re my best friend!” B’Elanna suddenly reached forward and gave Tom a hug.

Chakotay glanced up at Kathryn to exchange a look of awe before he turned back to the kids on the floor. “But B’E, I thought you just said a few minutes ago that I’m your best friend.” He raised an eyebrow, hiding his smile.

The young girl gave him a look that he had seen far too many times on her older counterpart’s face whenever he said something particularly dumb. “I can have two best friends, duh.”

He laughed. “Fair enough.”

Suddenly, he saw Kathryn’s purposeful walk stop out of the corner of his eye.

“Chakotay,” her voice was even and tense, “where’s Tuvok?”

Eyes widening, Chakotay glanced around the bridge. Tuvok was no where to be seen.

“Chakotay to Tuvok.” He stood as he tapped his commbadge. “Tuvok, please acknowledge.” They waited a moment and, upon receiving no response, moved simultaneously toward the turbolift.

“It’s possible he hasn’t figured out how to use his comm.” Janeway tucked Harry closer to her side as they stepped into the lift. “Computer: locate Tuvok.”

“Unable to comply.”

Janeway gave the ceiling a glare. “Why?”

The computer did not respond.

“Maybe the de-aging effect has made it difficult for the computer to locate him.” Chakotay rested a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure he’s alright; he’s probably just exploring the ship; you saw how amazed he was by everything in the conference room earlier.”

She nodded tightly. “Let’s hope so. Where do you think he’s gone?”

“Maybe to the holodeck?”

“Or his quarters.”

“What about the mess hall?”

“He just ate.”

They both paused, mulling it over.

“Alright.” Kathryn straightened. “I’ll check holodeck one and his quarters, you check holodeck two and the mess hall.” She turned back to the lift door. “Holodeck one.”

Chakotay swallowed around the lump in his throat, trying not to think of all the ways a small child could get hurt on a spaceship like Voyager. As the turbolift began to move, Janeway’s badge chirped.

“Kes to the captain.”

Her brow raised as she tapped the emblem. “Go ahead.”

“I think I’ve found something you’re missing.” Kes’s usually lighthearted tone was even lighter, clear amusement seeping through.

Kathryn turned to look Chakotay in the eye, a hopeful smile brightening her face. “I’m on my way.”

-----

Honestly, Janeway was a little ashamed of the fact that she didn’t think to go looking for her best friend among the orchids and other plants in the aeroponics bay, considering his horticulturally-related hobbies. As she and Chakotay stepped into the room, smiles crept onto both of their faces as they watched Tuvok carefully transfer one of Kes’s sprouts to a bigger pot. After patting the soil around the plant firmly, he wiped a hand across his forehead, smearing dirt on his face to match the dirt on his uniform.

Kes smiled up at the command team. “He came down and asked about a hundred questions about our system and then offered to help me with my work while we talked because its ‘more efficient to talk and work than simply talk.’”

Janeway chuckled at Kes’s approximation of Tuvok’s speech pattern. “Thanks for letting us know, Kes.” She reluctantly handed Harry to Chakotay, who flashed his dimples, and crouched next to Tuvok. “Hello there.”

Tuvok glanced up quickly before resuming his work. “Hello, Captain. Did you know that these Talaxian green beans take only a week and a half to reach maturity?”

“I did not.” Janeway raised a brow and tilted her head. “That’s very impressive.”

“I thought so too when Kes told me.” He patted the soil around another plant and set it aside, retrieving another sprout.

“Tuvok,” the captain reached forward and rested a hand on his shoulder, “I’m glad you’ve found something to do, but you have to tell someone where you’re going before you wander off. We didn’t know what happened to you and Chakotay and I were really worried.”

Behind her, Chakotay’s heart flipped. There was something rather... intimate about the way she had referred to both of them being worried about a child.

“I’m sorry, Captain.” Tuvok nodded his head. “It won’t happen again.”

“Good.” Janeway smiled and stood. “Why don’t you help Kes down here for a while and then come back up to the bridge when you are ready?” She looked at Kes. “That is, if Kes is alright with that.”

The young woman smiled. “Of course, I’d love some help.”

Janeway nodded and turned back to Tuvok. “Be sure to let us know when you’re on your way back up.”

“Of course, Captain.”

She patted him one last time on the shoulder and turned back to Chakotay. They fell into step beside one another and entered the elevator.

As the doors whooshed closed, Janeway turned to Chakotay with the intention of reclaiming Harry, but stopped. A smile grew across her lips as she watched Chakotay bounce Harry gently, allowing the little boy to palm his tattoo in curiosity. Even as one of Harry’s chubby fingers poked him in the eye, Chakotay simply chuckled and took the tiny hand in his own.

He finally turned to look at her. “What?”

Kathryn just shook her head, grinning wider. “I was going to take Harry from you, but I can’t bear to break up this cute little arrangement.” She motioned to the two of them with a long finger.

The corner of Chakotay’s mouth kicked up a little higher. “Captain, did you just imply that I’m cute?”

Her brow arched, but her smile didn’t diminish. “It would be hard for anyone to look unappealing with a cute baby in their arms.”

Her heart stopped suddenly as she realized what she had just said. From the look of Chakotay’s face, he had caught it too. Implying that he and the baby were cute was one thing; calling him “appealing” was another. Before she could say anything else she might regret, Kathryn turned back to the lift door, schooling her features back into the face of the Captain.

If she had turned but a half-second later, she would have seen a wide smile break across Chakotay’s face.

-----

“I’m sorry, Captain, but I need more time. I won’t deactivate myself until I have a solution, but this situation is very delicate and I can’t risk rushing my tests. You’ll need to find somewhere for the children to sleep. Hopefully I’ll have a solution tomorrow.”

Kathryn nodded. “Of course. Thank you, Doctor.”

With a grim smile, the feed from sickbay switched off, leaving her to look at her dark reflection in the black screen. Something like relief swept over help alongside a touch of regret. On one hand, she could really use her senior officers back in functioning shape. On the other hand....

Her eyes drifted back down to Harry, who had pulled a bit of her hair out of it’s ponytail and was curling it around his tiny fist in unbreakable fascination. A smile tugged at her lips as she cuddled him a bit closer.

She could get used to this.

The thought struck her before she even knew what she was feeling and, as soon as she admitted it to herself, she took that feeling and shoved it as deep into the recesses of her mind as she could. She was the captain of a ship that was constantly in danger and she shouldn’t dwell on things she couldn’t have.

Kathryn sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “Well, Harry, looks like we need to find you a place to sleep.”

Turning back to the computer, she moved to set him down so she could use both hands to search the crew quarters layouts for a suitable place to keep the children overnight. As soon as Harry’s feet touched the ground, a wail rose from the back of his throat and his face scrunched.

Kathryn quickly scooped him back up. “Harry? What’s wrong?”

The boy’s cry of protest faded into whimpers and he buried his head in her shoulder, clinging to her tightly.

A warm feeling washed over her. “Ah,” she smiled, “I see.”

She pulled him closer and turned back to the computer, tapping buttons with one hand. “You can stay up here with me, then.”

The door to her quarters chimed.

“Come in.”

Before she could turn to greet her guest, mischievous giggles rose from the door. Eyebrow raised, she whirled around to find Chakotay standing in the doorway, a stack of PADDs in his hand, a tiny engineer on his left leg, and a tiny helmsman on his right.

He stepped forward with far less difficultly than she would have expected, given the extra weight on his legs. He crossed the room quickly and passed the PADDs to her. “The crew reports you requested.”

“Thank you.” She smiled, glancing down at the still giggling forms. “Not to alarm you, Commander, but it would seem that you have a couple of lifeforms attached to you.”

Chakotay’s eyes grew wide in mock surprise. “Really?” He turned his head and shuffled around, as if to look at his back. “Where?”

Tom and B’Elanna’s laughter grew. Suddenly, Chakotay leaned over and scooped the two of them off his legs, lifting them both up over his shoulders as their shrieked in delight.

He turned back to Kathryn with a wide smile. “Not to worry, Captain, I’ve apprehended the life forms.”

She smiled back with a soft chuckle. “We need to find a place for the life forms to stay tonight.”

Chakotay’s smile faded into a more serious, but not displeased look. “The Doctor doesn’t have a solution yet, then?” He lowered Tom and B’Elanna to the ground. They scampered off to the viewport, excitedly chattering about the stars.

“No, he needs a bit more time.”

Chakotay nodded. “Maybe I could take them for the night, that way someone is there to keep an eye on them.”

Kathryn shook her head. “I have no doubt in your babysitting abilities, Commander, but four children is a lot for one person to watch alone and your quarters are not big enough for Trouble 1 and Trouble 2 to run around in.” She gestured to the kids at the window.

“Fair point. Maybe I should take Harry and Tuvok then, and you could take Tom and B’Elanna?”

She turned Harry away from Chakotay. “Trying to take my boy again, are you Chakotay?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Do you have another idea, then, Mom?”

Her breath caught in her throat, but she managed to smirk at him and continue speaking without any indication that his previous sentence had impacted her. “My quarters are the largest on the ship. If we set up cots here in my living room we could easily both keep an eye on the children overnight.”

“Sounds good to me.” He glanced up at the clock on the wall. “How about I go collect Tuvok from aeroponics and some food from the mess hall while you get the cots set up?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

He gave her one last lingering smile, which she returned, before heading out the door and down the hall.

-----

Apparently the lunch they had shared earlier that day had been misleadingly easy. Supper was, to put it lightly, a challenge.

“B’Elanna, eat your own food and stop taking from Tom’s plate,” Kathryn said firmly.

“But Tom isn’t eating it!”

“I was going to eat it! I’m just a slower eater than you are!”

“Well eat faster then!”

“B’Elanna!” Chakotay set down the spoon he had been using to feed Harry and fixed her with a stern look. “That food isn’t yours, and Kathryn already asked you to stop taking Tom’s food. You won’t be asked again.”

B’Elanna mumbled out an apology and stuffed another bite of her own meal into her mouth.

Kathryn shot Chakotay a grateful smile and turned to Tuvok, who was holding up one of his vegetables to the light. “Tuvok? What are you doing?”

“I’m looking at the xylem and phloem of this plant.”

She bit back a smile. “I appreciate your curiosity, Tuvok, but I need you to stop studying your food and start eating it.”

The young Vulcan turned to her and nodded. “Of course.” He politely chewed and swallowed his food and turned back to the captain. “Did you know that this particular plant is a distant cousin of Terran broccoli? You can tell by the-”

Chakotay smiled as he watched Kathryn listen to Tuvok’s fourth lecture of the evening on plant biology. Neither of them were certain of what he was talking about most of the time, but his enthusiasm for the subject was nearly infectious and neither of them minded listening.

“Chakotay?”

He turned away from the scene across the table and looked at Tom next to him. “Yes?”

“After dinner, will you read to us?”

“Of course.” Chakotay smiled and ruffled Tom’s hair. “Anything particular you want to hear?”

“I want to hear about your missions with the Maquis!” B’Elanna bounced in her seat, all of that barely-contained Klingon energy starting to spill over.

“Or perhaps you could read to us from a classic story,” Tuvok raised a brow. “I’m fond of the works of Tolkien, maybe Tom and B’Elanna would like ‘The Hobbit’ too?”

“What’s a hobbit?” Tom’s face scrunched in confusion.

“Maybe,” Kathryn interjected before Tuvok could give a detailed recounting of the beloved childhood book, “Chakotay could tell us a story from his tribe.” Her eyes met his across the table. “He is pretty good at recounting ancient legends.”

Heat crept up the sides of Chakotay’s face as he held her stare. “Maybe.”

“Nah,” Tom’s voice broke through the pleasant tension between them. “I wanna know what a hobbit is!”

Chakotay chuckled. “Alright, ‘The Hobbit’ it is.”

-----

It took some time to get the older three to settle into bed, but finally, they began to yawn and snuggle deeper under their blankets. As their heads grew heavier, Chakotay wrapped up his story telling and the command team began to tuck their young companions in for the night.

As Chakotay wished Tom and Tuvok a good night’s rest, Kathryn carefully extracted B’Elanna from where she was snuggled into her side and took her over to her cot. As she got the small girl settled, she suddenly reached up and captured Kathryn in a tight hug. Surprised, Kathryn’s eyes widened, but she returned the gesture in earnest.

“Kathryn?”

“Yes, B’Elanna?”

“You’re my best friend.”

Kathryn blinked and pulled back to look B’Elanna in the eyes with a small smile. “I thought Chakotay and Tom were your best friends.”

“I can have more than one best friend.” B’Elanna’s voice was filled with deep confidence, despite how sleep-laced it was.

“Fair enough,” Kathryn chuckled, pulling the blankets tightly around the girl. “Goodnight.”

She met Chakotay in her bedroom, Harry still in his arms.

“Any time I try to set him down he starts crying.” Chakotay grinned sheepishly.

She grinned back. “I had a similar experience earlier today.” She reached up and brushed hand over the boy’s soft, black hair. “Its a good thing he weighs next to nothing.”

At Kathryn’s gentle touch, Harry stirred. His dark eyes found Kathryn’s and he reached out for her. With a look of mock hurt, Chakotay transferred the boy to his desired location.

“I’m trying not to be offended right now, Harry.”

Kathryn simply grinned and bounced the baby in her arms gently. “It’s alright, Chakotay. He has excellent taste.”

Chakotay shook his head, dimples flashing. “I suppose I can’t argue with that.”

She turned toward the bed and settled herself on one side, her back resting against the pillows and Harry resting against her chest. “Let’s see if we can get this one sleepy enough to not notice if we set him down.” She looked back at Chakotay, who was still standing, rather awkwardly. She patted the bed next to her with a smirk. “Come on, Commander. Get some rest. We’ve has a big day, wrangling the kiddos.”

He smiled and crossed the room to the other side of the bed, gently sitting next to her, his legs stretched out. “It has been a long day,” he said with a sigh. “But, I can’t say I haven’t enjoyed it.” He tilted his head to look at Kathryn, who was already looking up at him.

“Nor I.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Suddenly, Chakotay was very aware of how close their faces were. He watched as Kathryn’s eyes slid down to his lips. Before he could do something he couldn’t take back, he took a deep breath and turned away.

“Well,” Kathryn cleared her throat, sounding more like the Captain now, “it’s been fun but we should get some sleep. I’ll keep an eye on Harry here and take him to his cot in a few minutes. You should go ahead and rest, Commander.”

“Of course.” He tilted his head and gave her a small smile. “Goodnight, Kathryn.”

She grinned back. “Goodnight, Chakotay.”

-----

Apparently, Kathryn didn’t stay awake long enough to take Harry back to his cot, as evidenced by the weight on her chest as she stirred awake the next morning. She slowly became aware of her surroundings and the previous day’s events came flooding back to her.

She also became distinctly aware of the warm, comfortable presence beside her. As she opened her eyes, she realized that her first officer’s arm was settled around her shoulders and that his shoulder was currently her pillow. His head rested atop hers and the hand that was not draped around her shoulders was resting on top of Harry’s back next to her own.

The situation was all rather snuggly and, were it not a violation of every professional barrier Kathryn had erected between her and the commander, she would have had no issue in savoring the moment.

Then again.... maybe she could allow herself just a few moments to pretend that the baby in her arms wasn’t her star technical officer and that the man holding her close wasn’t her XO and that this was a perfectly normal situation.

Before she could get too far into her fantasy, however, Chakotay stirred next to her, his dark eyes fluttering open to find her own.

“Good morning,” he said, his voice huskier than her own as sleep clung to it.

“Good morning.”

They looked at each other for a moment before Chakotay carefully extracted himself from her side, helping her up so she could carefully place Harry in his cot in the living room without waking the boy or the other children who were still sleeping. Without a word, they quietly prepared breakfast and coffee, steeling themselves for another day of handling the kids.

-----

“I’m afraid I’m a bit.... stuck,” The Doctor ground out with obvious difficulty.

The captain raised an eyebrow. The EMH admitting that he was struggling to solve a problem was a rare instance indeed. “How so?”

With a huff, The Doctor turned back to his desk, flipping through experimental results from a stack of PADDs. “Kes was right; the DNA reversal process I initially thought might work will not account for the de-aging of the officers’ brains, so I decided to look at the type of radiation that might have caused this and, to be completely honest, Captain,” he turned back to look her in the eye, “I have absolutely no idea how this even happened. There’s no evidence of radiation, the temporal energy around them is unidentifiable, and I can’t figure out how their cells and their minds were reversed.” He lowered his head. “I’m unsure of how to even proceed from here.”

Kathryn nodded, taking the emotions that were beginning to tumble in her chest and stuffing them as far down as she could. “Very well, Doctor. Take a rest and we can all come back to the issue later once we’ve had time to think.” She rested a hand on his shoulder, causing him to look up. “Don’t despair yet; there’s a lot of other brilliant minds on this ship besides your own. We’ll figure it out together.” She smiled and gave his shoulder a squeeze before heading into the turbolift.

As the doors slid open, she found Tuvok waiting in the lift for her. She smiled down at him and stepped inside, calling for the bridge.

“Chakotay to the captain.”

She tapped her badge. “Go ahead.”

“We need you on the bridge, there’s a bit of a situation.”

She raised a brow, glancing down at Tuvok, who was gazing at her intently. “On my way.”

-----

“So they want to.... interview us?”

“They want to interview you specifically.”

“To see if we are worthy of going through their space.”

“Something like that.”

“And going around their space isn’t an option?”

“It would add another 7 months to our journey, so this interview is our ideal option.”

“No pressure, eh, Commander?” Janeway shifted Harry from one hip to the other with a long sigh. “Alright. Hail them.”

After a moment, a blue and red humanoid alien appeared on the screen.

“Greetings, Ambassador.” The Captain flashed a polite smile. “I’m Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation Starship Voyager.”

The alien woman inclined her head. “Hello, Captain Janeway, I’m Ambassador Tel Parah of the Doonian Delegation.” Her eyes swept the bridge. “You’re ship is heavily armed, which, according to the laws of our people, requires that we do a personal interview of the commanding officer to ensure that violence or other manners of chaos will not be instigated as you pass through our space.”

“Of course, I understand.” Janeway smiled again. “What questions may I answer for you?”

Over the course of the next 30 minutes, Janeway was grilled on their purpose in passing through Doonian space, the types and numbers of weapons they carried, and the journey they had made so far. Just as Janeway thought there wasn’t possibly anything more she could tell them, Ambassador Parah paused and looked up from the computer device in her hand to study Janeway. After a moment, she spoke again.

“Just one more thing, Captain Janeway,” a slow smile slipped onto her face, “What’s your son’s name? He’s absolutely precious.”

Janeway raised her eyebrows in surprise and glanced down at Harry, who she had nearly forgotten was still in her arms. At some point, he had removed her combadge and was currently turning it over and over again in his tiny hands, taking a moment here and there to bite parts of the object he must have found particularly interesting. Kathryn exchanged an amused glace with Chakotay, who shrugged off screen, before turning back to the ambassador.

“This is Harry.” Janeway smiled, turning the boy so the ambassador could see him better.

The other woman smiled widely. “How adorable. He has the brightest eyes.”

“He does.” Kathryn smiled back down at him.

“You know,” Parah leaned back in her chair, “I usually don’t allow anyone through our space that isn’t from a system or planet we are already know and trust and so I wasn’t planning on letting Voyager pass. However, when I saw your baby and how well-cared for and happy he seems, I felt that I could trust you somehow.” She smiled again. “We value children highly in the Doonien Delegation. Children are often a reflection of a parent’s character. I can tell by Harry’s disposition and curiosity that you are of a fine character, Captain.”

Janeway cuddled Harry a little closer, heart warming. “Thank you, Ambassador, I take that as a high compliment.”

“As you should.” Parah leaned forward again. “You may pass through our space. We will have you stop at three checkpoints on your way though which I will send you the coordinated for in a moment. Have a safe journey.”

The screen went blank and Kathryn turned to Chakotay.

“Should I feel bad that I let her believe Harry is my son?”

Chakotay chuckled, stepping close enough and lowering his voice enough that the rest of the bridge could pretend not to hear him. “Are you saying he’s not?”

Her gaze grew softer. “I guess he’s sort of been like a son to me since we got on board.” She looked back down at him. “I feel very protective of him.”

Chakotay rested a hand on her shoulder. “I know.”

They smiled at each other again. Chakotay opened his mouth to say something more but, suddenly, there was a tug at Kathryn’s elbow.

“Captain? Now that the negotiations are over, I think I have an idea about how to fix Tom, B’Elanna, Harry, and me.” Tuvok’s eyes were bright and eager.

“Alright,” Captain Janeway smiled down at him. “Let’s get The Doctor up here and we’ll hear your idea together.”

-----

Chakotay exchanged glances with The Doctor and the Captain over the table as he bounced both Tom and B’Elanna on his knees. “Could that really work? It seems almost too easy.”

“Well, if this is a phenomena that’s inexplicable and is tied only to the anomaly the shuttles passed through, I feel like sending the children back through isn’t our worst idea.” The captain rubbed the back of her neck. “Doctor?”

The holographic man continued typing into his PADD for a moment before stopping and reading. “I- I honestly think this could work.” He slid the PADD over to Janeway. “It’s hard to predict, since we have no idea what exactly caused this, but if we send the shuttles through the anomaly opposite of the way they first went through, I think it just might turn them back to their usual ages.”

“How do we know it won’t just make them even younger?” Chakotay watched as B’Elanna slipped off of his knee, pulling Tom along with her to go play in the corner.

“We’d have to run some tests to be sure that they don’t. Perhaps we could send a plant through first, or some other organic life form.” The Doctor took the PADD back and made a note.

“We would also have to make sure that, if the tests show some promise, Tuvok can take the shuttle back through the anomaly.” Janeway turned to the boy sitting at her right. “Well, Tuvok? Do you think you could pilot the shuttle?”

He shook his head. “Since I don’t have my older self’s memories I don’t think I could.”

“We could use the tractor beam to send the shuttle through,” Chakotay said. “If we give them enough of a push to go through the anomaly, they should be able to pilot themselves back to Voyager once they get out the other side and have returned to their normal ages.”

Janeway raised her eyebrows. “Well, it’s worth a shot and I don’t have any better ideas. Commander, set a course for the anomaly. Doctor, prepare the experiments.”

-----

Tom and B’Elanna seemed to sense that something was up as they suddenly became even more clingy. The whole trip back to the anomaly, B’Elanna shared the captain’s chair with Kathryn, insisting with all of her Klingon passion that the older woman tell her more stories from earlier in their journey through the Delta Quadrant. At the helm, Tom hung on to Chakotay’s arm, watching the stars go by and asking Chakotay a hundred questions about piloting starships. Tuvok sat in Chakotay’s usual seat, interjecting with questions of his own here and there, and Harry sat on Kathryn’s knee, chewing on her jacket sleeve, her combadge still clutched tightly in his left hand.

After they reached the anomaly, it took a couple of hours for The Doctor to complete his experiments and, once he had declared that plants that had gone through the anomaly twice were returned to the same age the started as, they began preparing the children to enter the anomaly themselves.

“Will it hurt?” B’Elanna asked in the smallest voice she had ever used in her life as Kathryn tucked the small Starfleet uniform that she had come through the anomaly with around her shoulders.

“It won’t,” Tuvok said. “It didn’t hurt when we came through the first time, did it?”

She shook her head, but didn’t look very reassured.

“It’s okay, ‘Lanna!” Tom grabbed her hand. “I’ll be right beside you.”

Kathryn stood and took a step back, feeling almost as if someone had filled her chest with some of Neelix’s heavy stew. She had to let them go, of course, this wasn’t the way they were supposed to be, but she was certainly going to miss seeing the level of innocence her officers had now. B’Elanna was unburdened by trust issues, Tuvok was passionate and bright, and Tom - well, she supposed he hadn’t changed all that much, but at least he seemed to be genuinely happy, not just putting up a front of humor to protect himself.

It would be hard to see them go back, but maybe, now that she understood how the world and time had changed her friends, she could help them.

She was shaken from her thoughts by a tug at her collar. She looked down to see Harry pulling at her pips, completely enamored by the gold metal.

“Oh, Harry.” She nearly choked on his name. Since he was so young now, she didn’t have any insight into his personality after having seen him as a baby, but she was going to miss his innocent curiosity and familiar weight on her hip.

Before she could think too much about it, she handed Harry over to Tuvok. The younger boy scrunched his face up and whimpered at the change of hands, but Tuvok bounced him gently and he settled down, reaching for the pointed tip of Tuvok’s ear.

Kathryn took a step back, feeling Chakotay step up behind her so that they were nearly touching. “Best of luck, you four.” She gave them her most reassuring smile. “See you on the other side.”

She and Chakotay hurried up the bridge and gave the go ahead for the ensign who had taken over Harry’s post to begin using the tractor beam to move the shuttle out into the anomaly. They stood side-by-side on the bridge and watched the shuttle go through. At come point, they grabbed each other’s hands and squeezed each other tightly.

There was a flash as the shuttle passed through the anomaly. After a few terrifyingly quiet moments, the shuttle came bursting out of the other side and a voice crackled over the comm.

“Cochran to Voyager,” confusion leaked through Tom’s voice. “What the hell just happened?”

Kathryn and Chakotay smiled at each other in relief. “What’s the last thing you remember, Tom?” Chakotay asked.

“B’Elanna, Harry, and I were coming back to Voyager when we- wait a second, how did you get here, Tuvok?”

Janeway laughed. “Why don’t we get you four back on board and then we’ll explain everything.”

“Copy that. See you in a few.” Tom’s voice grew quieter, like he was leaning away from the comm. “I have a feeling this is going to be one heck of a story.”

-----

After everyone had been debriefed and left to process the last two days of strangeness, Chakotay found Kathryn in her favorite spot; on her couch and staring wistfully out at the stars as they drifted past. She had shucked her jacket and taken her hair out of it’s clip, leaving her in her grey turtleneck with her hair falling around her shoulders and face.

“Got a lot on your mind?”

She turned to smile at him, a note of sadness in her eyes. “It’s been an interesting couple of days.”

He settled on the couch a ways down, turning to face her. “It sure has.” He was quiet for a moment. “I’m going to miss our kids.”

“Me too. It was fun having little ones around, playing at being a parent.” She fidgeted with the seam on the couch. “It was different and they sure did give us some challenges,” she chuckled, “but I loved it.”

“Have you ever thought about having kids of ou-” he coughed, “your own?”

Her crystal blue gaze caught his. “Yes.” She smiled and looked out the window again. “I always thought someday I would be a mother.” With a snort and a smirk, she continued; “Of course, I never thought I’d be mothering my helmsman, security officer, engineer, and technical officer.”

Chakotay laughed softly. “I think you were mothering them before they were turned into actual children.”

“Perhaps.” A pause. “What about you? Did you ever think about being a father? Outside of the whole instance with Seska, of course.”

He nodded. “When I was in the Maquis, no. My life was too fast-paced to be a proper father. If I was going to be a dad, I wanted to do it right and I couldn’t have done that from a Maquis ship.” He took a deep breath. “After joining this crew, though.... I’m in a better place now, and I think I’d be thrilled to be a father.” He looked over at Kathryn to find that she was already looking at him with something like wonder in her eyes. He held her gaze for a moment and, finally finding a bit of courage, he said: “I’m more at peace.”

A smiled played at the corners of her lips, and her eyes looked a little like they were silver-lined, though Chakotay couldn’t quite tell for sure in the low light of her quarters.

“You were really good with the kids. You would make an excellent father, I have no doubt.”

He smiled. “You would make an excellent mother. You’re a natural.”

“Thank you, but I barely felt like I knew what I was doing.” She chuckled.

“You could have fooled me.” He grinned for a moment, before his countenance grew more serious. “I hope you get your wish someday, Kathryn. I hope you get to be a mother.”

She was quiet for a moment, and Chakotay suddenly felt his chest tighten. Had he said too much.

Before he could fall too far into his panic, her hand slid over to his, giving it a squeeze. He looked up into her eyes, which definitely had tears in them now.

“I hope you get to be a father too Chakotay. Someday.”

He squeezed her hand back and they both fell into a comfortable silence, enjoying the view of the stars outside Kathryn’s window.

#whew okay that got emotional there at the end #lets all take a breather and remember cute little Harry #Okay that's better #anyway #thanks for reading!#hopefully this wasn't too plot-hole-ridden #star trek voyager #kathryn janeway #captain janeway #janeway #chakotay #harry kim #b'elanna torres #tom paris #tuvok #neelix #kes #the EMH #the doctor

35 notes · View notes

justanalto · 3 years

Note

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOTS

"Keyla, I wish I could tell you I was joking." Had she laser vision, Keyla would have far beyond destroyed the incriminating PADD in Michael's hand, but as it was, no radiation had found her yet, so an angry glare it was. "But Starfleet has orders, and we have to follow them."

"Did you tell Starfleet they're making the most ridiculous mistake of their lives?" Keyla demands. "What ensign -- what rookie trainee decided this was a good idea? No ensign would make this mistake. Hell, not even Grudge could make this mistake!" She points an angry finger towards Grudge, who simply meows in annoyance. "Sorry, Grudge. But anyways, you can't do this! Starfleet can't do this!"

Michael sighs. "May I remind you that we owe a lot to this new Federation for picking us up and taking us in?" Another sigh. "Keyla, I promise it's temporary. We'll have you back on the Discovery in no time. But Admiral Vance needs a pilot for the USS Sisko, and it's practically unexplored territory --"

"So send us!"

"I already asked to send us, Keyla. Vance wants to keep the Discovery close to home." Keyla pouts, much to the amusement to the bridge crew. Michael just sighs again.

She'd told Vance separating her crew was a bad idea. But this one was worse than most: you didn't take a pilot from their ship, especially not one so attached to it like Keyla was the Discovery, and of course, there was the whole matter with...well, Michael suspects it's the only reason the pilot looks like she's about to mutiny.

"It's three weeks!" Keyla exclaims. "Three whole weeks!" She plops back into the pilot's chair, crossing her arms. "I'm not going."

Was this how Philippa felt sometimes? Michael resists the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose. "Detmer, you're better than this, come on." The corners of Keyla's mouth twitch at the usage of her surname, but she still doesn't budge. "Keyla..."

"Keyla," This time, it's Joann that reaches out with a placating tone, leaning to put one hand on Keyla's arm. "It's three weeks. The Discovery's going to be fine. Go. We'll be okay." When Keyla gives her a long look, Joann squeezes her arm. "I'll be okay."

"I won't," Keyla mutters. "How 'm I supposed to fly without my emotional support Owo?"

This time, Michael really does pinch the bridge of her nose. She knows three weeks' separation will be hard, but was it really that bad --? "Keyla, are you really telling me that Owo --"

"Nah." Keyla shakes her head. "I'll be fine to fly. Really," she adds when Michael fixes her with a doubtful look. "I was just hoping I could get Jo to come with me." She shrugs. "Everyone knows we fly better together."

Except Vance, Michael wants to mutter. Regardless, crisis averted; another minute and she would've resorted to getting Vance on the line anyways. Or maybe --

"Bryce, get me a line to Admiral Vance,"

"Aye, sir."

The whole of Keyla's face lights up, but Michael only holds up a hand in caution. "This may not work. But I still haven't forgiven him for the time he sent us to the Greek quadrant and Tilly got stuck on Delta Phi rushing a sorority for four days, so."

"Communication established, Captain."

Michael rolls her shoulders. "Good. Now who wants to see a shouting match and Tilly in sorority wear?"

#ask things #aleksandrachaev #kat's quest for boots

4 notes · View notes

summahsunlight · 4 years

Text

This Way Became My Journey, CH. 13

Chapters 1-10 / Chapter 11/ Chapter 12

A hot bath and a cup of tea was all Sarah Barrett really wanted when she stumbled into her quarters for her break. They had been traveling at warp speed for the past hour or so to get to Illidaria to ask for help in getting the trapped ship out of the event horizon and Sarah had spent just as long brushing up the rest of the crew on first contact protocols. It had taken a little longer than she was hoping, since the Maquis had no first contact policy and she had to start from scratch when it came to them. By now her feet were killing her and she had walked the equivalent of several miles on board the ship going from department to department.

Thankfully Chakotay's idea of routing power from deck seven had provided some power to the replicators in the mess hall so Sarah had been able to replicate a cup of red tea, with lemon, on her way back to her quarters. She sat in the living room, sipping it, while she waited for the bath to finish filling up. Pulling off the tunic of her uniform she decided to change into something more comfortable. She had one hour before she had to get back in uniform and man her office, there were several rookie space travelers that had requested to speak to her and she had somehow managed to cram them in; however she was going to make the most of this time off.

After slipping into a pair of navy blue cotton lounge pants and a spaghetti strap gray tank top she proceeded into the bathroom to check the water. The tub was almost full. Leaning over she turned the water off as the door chime rang out. Grunting, she pulled herself up. What now?

"Come in," she called, trying to keep the edge out of her voice. She wasn't surprised when Tom Paris sauntered into the room, carrying a bottle of champagne and what appeared to be a picnic basket. "What do you want, Tom?"

"I thought we'd celebrate."

"Celebrate what?" Sarah asked, bewildered.

"In case you didn't realize, it was one week ago that we were pulled from the Badlands into the Delta Quadrant, and there's no better way to celebrate than a lunch of champagne and emergency rations," Tom pointed out, pulling out two tumblers from the basket and placing them down onto the dining table. He popped the cork and the champagne fizzled a little before he poured each of them a generous portion.

"That's something to celebrate? Being stranded seventy five thousand light years from home?"

Tom laughed. "Come on Sarah, you know me better than that. We're celebrating surviving our first week out here." He handed her a glass of the bubbly alcohol and clanged his glass to hers. "Drink up; we've only got about three thousand eight hundred and ninety-nine more weeks to go."

She watched as he took a sip of the champagne. "You have a twisted sense of humor, you know that?" But, she reasoned, a glass of champagne would certainly help her unwind a little after the horrendous morning and afternoon that she had just had. She figured Tom's probably wasn't much better. Finally she took a sip out of her own glass and immediately felt her senses tingle. This was a clear violation of the terms that Starfleet insisted that she agree upon if she wanted to go back to work; hell it was a clear violation of Starfleet protocol period, no drinking on duty. But if they were discrete, no one would have any idea they had shared a drink together during lunch.

Tom plopped his tired body down onto her sofa and spread his arms out along the back, the glass resting between his fingers. "You know, I've always loved how the bubbles tingle my nose."

Sarah was shocked how he could toss aside all that was going on around them and just focus on the moment. How often had she wished in the past that she had that ability? She stood there in the middle of the room, her feet bare, hair curling over her shoulders, staring at him. Was this for real? Or was the champagne a facade so he could see her because there was a deeper problem at hand?

"What?" he asked, noticing her stare. "Do I have something up my nose?"

She blinked, snapping out of her trance. "Why are you here?"

"I already answered that question; to celebrate surviving our first week," Tom replied, restlessly.

"No, why are you really here?"

He let out a dejected breath. "I should have known you'd see right through me."

"The champagne may have been a little too much of a give away," Sarah tried to joke, but noticed that it was coming off all wrong. He frowned at her and she saw the anguish flash through his blue eyes. She didn't even think Tom Paris was capable of such an emotion and it immediately thrust her into counselor mode. "Tom, what's going on? You seem…upset."

Leaning forward, Tom's eyes met hers. "Do you ever feel that we've been set up to fail?"

"You mean Captain Janeway's decision to strand us here?" Sarah drawled, trying to understand where he was coming from. "She did what she thought was right. If we hadn't destroyed the array what would have happened to the Ocampa?"

Tom shrugged his shoulders. "Sometimes, Sarah, I feel like we did what was right, that their needs out weighed ours, however, other times I feel that being back in New Zealand would be better than facing uncharted space. If this was solely a Starfleet crew I wouldn't be worried, however, we're talking about integrating enemies of the Federation into this crew, our chances of survival aren't good. We just as well will kill each other before we work together. Janeway had to have known that when she pulled the trigger, right?"

"To be honest Tom, I'm not sure what she was thinking when she made the decision," Sarah answered, sitting with him on the couch. "It wasn't like we all had time to discuss it." She tucked her feet underneath her legs and drew them closer to her. "I guess, we just have to have a little faith, after all, it seems that Captain Janeway has some faith in all of us." She laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. "We'll get through it Tom, we'll make it home."

A sad smile stretched across his face. "You know something when I hear you say it, and hear Janeway say it, I believe it."

"Counselor Barrett, report to the Bridge."

Tom saw Sarah's eyes close and a dark look come over her face. The calm demeanor which she had regarded him in just mere seconds ago was gone, replaced with a worried and stressed look.

"We must be coming up on Illidaria," she murmured. Getting up she downed the rest of her champagne in a chug that impressed Tom, who was known for his chugging during his Academy days, and strode into the bathroom. He heard water draining from the tub and a few moments later she appeared from the room, clad now in her uniform, hair roughly tossed back and boots in her hands.

So much for the bath, Sarah thought as she put her boots on. She tapped her combadge. "Barrett to bridge, I'm on my way."

"The Captain would like to see you," Lieutenant Commander Tuvok instructed her when she stepped out of the turbolift. Sarah grimly nodded her head and proceeded to the ready room door, tapping the chime.

Janeway admitted her a few seconds later and she stepped into see an obvious flustered captain. "Is everything alright, ma'am?" The room was, putting it bluntly, a disaster. The product of having two children spend the whole day cooped up in there. Several toys littered the upper level, one of Ava's bottles had tipped over onto the coffee table and had leaked out, and Michael had made an elaborate block city that weaved around the entire area. Right now, both children were snuggled up, sleeping on the sofa taking what was probably a much needed nap.

"Oh, everything is just wonderful, Lieutenant," the older woman drawled, answering her question, her blue eyes staring intently at the younger woman. "I've got a trapped ship I cannot help without making first contact with a species we know nothing about, second, my children are running rampant all over this ship, third, I don't know who to put in charge down in Engineering. Do you know I tried to do as Chakotay suggested and get to know B'Elanna? She just stormed out of here, right before you came in. I was hoping that you would have made it here before she left. Tell me, Sarah, what am I doing wrong? I've tried to be accommodating, I've tried being welcoming to the Maquis, nothing is working."

"Captain, I don't think there is much more you can do…for the Maquis that is," Sarah responded quickly. "I've tried to get to know B'Elanna as well, all I meet is aversion. Of course to her, I'm nothing but a Starfleet brat."

Janeway had heard that term often enough as well growing up, since her father had been Starfleet. Perhaps that was the problem with many of the Maquis, they believed that she had not earned her way to this position, thus did not have the authority to dictate their lives. So what did that mean, that she get on the comline and tell her life story?

"Sickbay to Captain Janeway," the Doctor's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Yes Doctor?"

"May I request that you activate your emergency medical holographic channel?"

Sarah watched as Janeway moved to sit behind her desk and activate her personal computer. Harry must have fixed it quickly, she thought with mild amusement, recalling how the Captain had burst forth from the ready room to get a status report that morning with the broken terminal in her hand, placed it in Harry's lap and told him to see if he could fix it. When he asked what had happened to it, her answer had been, a one year old.

Janeway was gazing at the newly fixed screen with a funny look and briefly Sarah wondered if Harry hadn't fixed it. "Doctor, I'm getting a distorted image. Mister Kim obviously didn't fix my computer thoroughly."

"No captain," the Doctor's voice came over the computer. "You're computer is working properly. This is how I currently appear. I'm…shrinking."

"Shrinking?" Janeway repeated, eyebrows arching in fascination. She propped her chin in her elbow to hide the smile that was no doubt making its way across her face.

The Doctor saw her amusement and scowled, telling how much he was shrinking by. "I've informed Mister Kim; apparently, he has more pressing matters to tend too, for example fixing your computer. However, my…personal problem, is not what I'm calling you about. Several crew members have reported severe headaches, muscles spasms, and sudden waves of dizziness. I've treated them of course."

Let's just add this to the list of things I have to deal with, Janeway thought bitterly. "This could be related to the quantum singularity we encountered a few hours ago," she told him, and immediately saw his face cloud over with disgust. Oh dear, no one informed him.

"Quantum singularity?" the Doctor repeated, in a harsh tone.

"It was sending out strong spatial distortions it might have affected the crew. And your systems as well," Janeway mused.

"You know Captain, if we were in the vicinity of a quantum singularity, I should have been informed."

She gave him an apologetic smile, realizing that since he was their only doctor at the moment, and seeing how he did not have the freedom to come to bridge, there had to be a way set up for him to get information on what was going on, other than by word of mouth. "You're absolutely right. I'll look at linking your program into the ship's database." Suddenly the ship jolted and Janeway was tossed about in her chair.

Stumbling to her feet both Janeway and Sarah left the ready room, neither of them realizing that the Captain had failed to terminate her link with the Doctor, who was calling after Janeway, "Hello? Captain?"

"Report," Janeway ordered, stepping up into the command station.

"It looks like we're running into more spatial distortions," Chakotay answered her, turning to face her.

"I'm reading a highly localized disturbance off the port bow," Harry Kim said.

"On screen," Janeway said, facing the view screen. An image of another event horizon appeared, very similar to the one they had left behind to go to Illidaria to get help. "Mister Tuvok?"

Tuvok ran his fingers over his console, gathering readings. "It is another type four quantum singularity. The physical and temporal dimensions are identical to the one we encountered earlier."

A beep came from Tom's instruments and the young pilot, who had taken his station after Sarah left her quarters, glanced over his shoulder at Janeway. "Captain, according to these coordinates, we've returned to our previous position. This isn't another singularity, it's the same one."

B'Elanna Torres didn't know why, but she was nervous sitting in the staff meeting that had been called to discuss why they were going around in circles and ending back at the same singularity. Joe Carey, who had been called to the meeting as well, looked smug and not the least bit fazed. There were rumors running rampant that this meeting was the one where Janeway was going to make her decision about chief engineer. B'Elanna figured she had ruined any chances of getting the position when she had stormed out of Janeway's office not even an hour ago. But she would be lying if she didn't want the job, for some reason she wanted to prove to Janeway that she was not going to fail, even if the woman was trying to set her up just to do that. However, at the same time, she knew that she wasn't officer material.

In fact, she was so lost in thought that she wasn't aware the holographic doctor had been speaking over the view screen in the briefing room until he was done. He glumly reported that he was still shrinking and cut the connection.

Janeway was leaning forward on her elbows. Chakotay was seated to her right, Sarah Barrett to her left, followed by Tuvok, Harry Kim, Joe Carey, herself, and Tom Paris. What a motley crew, B'Elanna mused, looking about the table as Janeway began to speak to them.

"I've finished my study of the spatial distortion coming from the singularity," the Captain began. "I can give you a long, boring analysis. All I can say is, I don't know what is going on. The readings are confused, the data contradictory, none of it is making any sense. Anyone have anything more constructive?" she asked the group hopefully.

"Ship wide diagnostics have revealed nothing out of the ordinary," Tuvok reported.

"I tried sending out a tachyon signal to scan the singularity, but all I got back was static," Carey said.

B'Elanna was still lost in thought and only brought out of it when Chakotay asked her if she could work with Carey to clean up the signal. "Yes," she replied, eyes flicking to Janeway. "But it won't work. I mean it was a good idea to try, but it won't work."

"You have another idea?" the Captain asked her.

"I was just thinking about the Doctor's problem with the holographic projectors," B'Elanna responded, leaning forward in her chair and resting her elbows on the table. "It seems like the spatial distortions might be interfering with the projector's phase alignment."

Janeway looked intrigued. "That was my guess too."

"If that's the case," B'Elanna continued, "I might be able to screen out those distortions by setting up a localized dampening field around the projectors."

"Is our priority here really the medical holographic system?" Carey questioned, feeling like he was being out matched.

"My point is," B'Elanna said, " that if the spatial distortions are also interfering with the transmission we received from the other ship -," she didn't get the chance to continue, the Captain finished for her, following her path, stating that they could set up a similar system around their external sensors and communicate with them. "Exactly," the Klingon replied, "And they may know more than we do about what's going on."

"Let's give it a try," Janeway said enthusiastically. "Dismissed."

The group of officers got up from the table, with the exception of Janeway and all filed out of the room back onto the bridge. Chakotay turned around at the door to look at her, asking her a silent question. A small smile spread on her face and she gave him a gentle nod of the head. He returned the soft smile, before following the others out onto the bridge. Janeway leaned back in her chair, let out a calming breath and stood up, slowly making her way after her officers. She found them all hard at work, just like she knew they would be.

"The emitters are online," B'Elanna reported, with Janeway now standing over her shoulder, arms over her chest. "I'm rerouting the dampening field through the deflector grid."

Janeway moved towards operations. "Open a channel to the other ship." Immediately the bridge was filled with a garbled message, just like the one they had heard about hours ago it felt like now. B'Elanna announced that she was ramping up the field intensity.

"It's working," Kim said. "We're cutting through the distortions." The message still sounded garbled however. Janeway ordered him to remodulate the EM band to try to clean it up. "Compensating for amplitude distortion," he told her as he typed away at his console. A few moments later a clear transmission filled the bridge and it shocked them all. It was the Captain's hail from hours before when they had first come across the singularity.

"That's your hail," Chakotay told her, even though she didn't need to be told.

"I'm applying our dampening field to our visual scanners to see if I can clear up the image," B'Elanna said. When she did it, it was another shock to the bridge crew, because the ship they were trying to rescue all along was Voyager. All this time they had been trying to save themselves. Suddenly it hit B'Elanna and Janeway as well, they were the ones trapped in the singularity all along, there had never been another ship.

"Red alert," Janeway ordered, the lights dimming and an alarm blaring a few warnings.

"Sensors confirm it's definitely U.S.S Voyager," Tom reported, peeking at his console between staring at the screen.

"I've been hailing the ship on all frequencies," Tuvok said, "But I've gotten no response."

Janeway narrowed her eyes. "I don't think you'll get a response, Commander," she told him, patiently. "That message we unscrambled is the same message I sent out hours ago."

"Could we have traveled back in time and met ourselves?" Kim asked.

"No," B'Elanna said firmly, "that's not it." She moved towards Janeway across the back of the bridge and went to stand face to face with her. "I think I have an explanation." For a moment their eyes met and then Janeway nodded towards the briefing room again, asking that the senior officers move in there.

B'Elanna moved with the others into the briefing room that they had occupied a mere five minutes before, but didn't bother taking a seat like the rest of them. She was too nervous that Janeway was going to think she was crazy. Instead, she nervously paced around the table giving her explanation as to what was going on. "Think of it like this," she started, "you're sitting at the bottom of a pond, which is frozen over, and you look up at the surface and see a reflection of yourself. Now, you might think you're looking at another person, sitting at the bottom of another pond, looking back at you."

To her surprise, Janeway was buying it. "And in this case, we'd be staring up at the surface of the event horizon and seeing a time delayed reflection of ourselves."

"Are you saying we're the ones trapped in the singularity?" Chakotay asked.

"Unfortunately, yes," B'Elanna replied.

"You're right," Janeway agreed, "it's the only theory that explains everything that's happened to us. We've probably been in this singularity since we felt the first jolt."

Paris was confused. "Wait a minute," he interjected. "Let me get this straight. We were cruising along at warp seven, and then picked up a distress call. So we moved into investigate, but now you're saying that the other ship is just a reflection of us, and that the distress call is just the captain's opening hail. But we picked up the distress call before she sent the hail. How could we have been seeing a reflection of something we hadn't even done yet?" He looked around the table to see that everyone was staring at him, and that Janeway had a smirk on her face. "Am I making any sense here?"

"No," Janeway replied, "but that's okay. One of the more difficult concepts to grasp in temporal mechanics is sometimes effect can precede cause. A reaction can be observed before an action that initiated it."

"So how do we get out?" Kim asked.

"I'm not sure," B'Elanna replied, intensely. "But, I do know one thing. That as we slide deeper into the singularity, the spatial distortions are increasing. If that's the case, then we might not have a lot of time before they crush the ship."

Janeway got up from the table and moved around it to stand next to her. "If your analogy is correct, how do we get through that sheet of ice?"

"Look for a crack!"

"Or make a crack," Janeway said in response to B'Elanna. "Take something and slam into the ice until it buckles."

"Wait a minute," B'Elanna said. "What if we already made a crack in the ice?"

"When we first entered the event horizon," Janeway mused along with her.

"If we can find our entry point we might be able to slip out the way we came in," B'Elanna replied.

"So we would be looking for a subspace instability in the event horizon," Janeway speculated. "What would make it show up on our sensors?"

Silence passed between them for a couple of seconds and then they both said at the same time, "Warp particles!"

"If we saturate the event horizon with warp particles we might be able to see them escaping through the rupture we made when we entered!" Janeway exclaimed turning about on her heel and leaving the room. The rest of the officers, most of them stunned by what had just taken place, followed suit.

B'Elanna heard Paris remark to Barrett, "What the hell just happened?" Out of the corner of her eye, B'Elanna could see a small smile creep across the counselor's pretty face as she turned to reply to the hotshot pilot, "I think B'Elanna Torres just got promoted to chief engineer."

She felt satisfaction in hearing that. But she didn't know how much truth was behind the words that Barrett had just said. After all, B'Elanna may have found a way out of the event horizon for them, but that didn't mean Janeway was seriously going to take her on as chief engineer. She still wasn't sure how she felt about the whole thing herself. Was she capable of leading? I guess there's only one way to find out, she thought to herself as she went to stand in the command station with Janeway and Chakotay, while Tuvok took the main deflector off line. Kim was rerouting the power of the plasma flow to the main deflector so they could use it to generate a warp field.

B'Elanna stood rigidly next to Chakotay, realizing that if this didn't work, she was fresh out of ideas on how to get them out of the event horizon and Voyager would be crushed. Well I gave us a week to survive out here, but I didn't think we'd be crushed to death by a quantum singularity.

"Release the warp particles," Janeway ordered. A steady stream of particles emitted from the deflector dish and into the even horizon, filling the bridge with a bright orange glow. Paris immediately began to scan the singularity for an changes. But B'Elanna was anxious.

"Anything?" she rasped out, harshly.

"Not yet," Kim reported, coolly. "Warp particles at full intensity."

"I'm picking up something," Paris announced, fingers running across the conn. "It could be a rupture in the event horizon."

B'Elanna exchanged a relieved glance with the Captain before she ordered to have it put on screen. Sure enough, there was rupture. Now if only its big enough for the ship to get through, B'Elanna thought hopefully. But Paris was already delivering the bad news that it was too small. She felt anger taking a hold of her. "It must have collapsed since we first past through it."

"We found the crack," Janeway said, trying to calm her. "That's the important thing. Let's focus on how we can make it bigger."

"Put a wedge in it and force it open," B'Elanna retorted still feeling angry. "We could try a dekyon beam."

Janeway nodded her head and ordered Paris to move them closer to the rupture, but he turned in his seat and looked at her pensively. "Captain, if we get too close to the rupture our warp engines might make it collapse even further."

Damn it, B'Elanna thought as the Captain asked if they could emit the beam from their current position. Kim told her that they didn't have enough power to emit one from this distance. Another damn.

"Alright, we'll take a shuttlecraft," Janeway said, placing her hands on her hips.

It didn't surprise B'Elanna that Tom Paris was standing up, offering himself up to pilot the shuttle. It did surprise her though that Janeway was putting him down. He had made a valuable point, that she needed her best pilot and that was him. But hers was maybe a little bit more valuable; she needed someone with her that understood temporal mechanics. Once that was out, B'Elanna suddenly realized, Kahless, she means me!

Sure enough Janeway told B'Elanna that she was going to accompany her, and with a final order of leaving Chakotay in charge, the two women left the bridge, en route to the shuttlebay.

#star trek voyager #star trek voyager fanfiction #kathryn janeway #chakotay #tom paris #sarah barrett (oc)#harry kim #b'elanna torres #tuvok #neelix #kes #the doctor (emh)#janeway x chakotay #tom paris x ofc #this way became my journey

4 notes · View notes

sharpnothashtag · 4 years

Text

The Good Ship CrushWay, Chapter 27

Bev, exhausted from a day of surgery and tutoring, collapses in her bed. Seven of Nine immediately enters her quarters.

Bev: We just had a 17 hour day, Seven. What could you possibly need? Seven: I wanted to update you on the number of Borg we have in the recovery chamber. Bev: And that couldn’t wait until morning? Seven: There are surgeries in progress right now. The number might change. Bev: FiNe. (is so tired she starts to change in front of Seven and prepare her bed for the evening) Seven: (in proper Seven fashion, unphased) We have 20 humanoids recovering from surgery right now. Erin is able to speak in full sentences and sit up on her own now. I predict she will make a full recovery. Bev: (wearing her blankets as capes) Splendid. Now go away. Seven: (on autopilot, not budging) Counselor Troi reports that her counselors are beginning week 2 of their studies, and the results in conventional trauma volunteers are promising. Bev: (in the middle of a hot milk toddy, in a comfy nighty, sitting on the bed) Brilliant. Leave. Seven: The Doctor--(interrupted by the sight of KJ coming out of the bathroom. KJ sees the look on Bev’s face of pure exhaustion.) KJ: Seven, you’re dismissed. That’s Starfleet for “Get out.” Seven: (as if back on Voyager) Yes, Captain. (turns and leaves)

KJ snickers and lays down next to a weary Bev. Bev rolls over to face KJ.

Bev: Tell me about your trip here. I’m really glad to see you. (small kiss) KJ: (kisses back briefly) Bev, we can talk about that tomorrow when you’re not asleep with your eyes open. Bev: No, (yawn) no. I want to know about your day. What about your mother? (through a yawn) What did she say about u--(sleep)

KJ smiles. She kisses Bev on the forehead as if to say, “Sleep well; I love you.” She rolls over and tries to fall asleep. As she does, visions of the last week fill her head. She flashes back.

Gretchen Janeway: Katie. My Katie. KJ: Hi, Mom. (they hug for a while. from the hug) GJ: I thought I’d never see you again. KJ: (confused) You’ve seen me since I got back from the Delta Quadrant. GJ: (incredulously) Are you forgetting you fought the Borg since then? KJ: Well...I, uh--I guess I forgot you knew about what was going on. GJ: (finally letting the hug go) Katie, I’m old, but I’m not blind. Or deaf. Do you know how many people ask me if we’re related when I’m out walking Rocco and Molly? (on cue, two large Irish setters emerge from behind the dog gate and tackle KJ) KJ: (laughing) I am so glad to see you guys! (petting, loving on, and playing with them) GJ: (sitting down on the floor) They’ve missed you so much. (Beat) She asks about you, you know? KJ: (a look as if her blood ran cold) You mean she woke up? GJ: It’s touch and go. The last time she was awake, though, I told her how you were coming home. KJ: After all the damage done, she still remembers me. GJ: You’re her sister. Of course she does. KJ: But her brain...it’s being eaten, cell by cell. GJ: You don’t have to put it that way. KJ: Yes, I do. That’s what’s happening. GJ: Just because that’s the science of it doesn’t mean you have to actually phrase it that way. KJ: What would you rather me say? Hmm? Would you rather me say that my baby sister tried to kill herself? That she was dead for an hour? That the doctors thought they saved her? GJ: They did save her, Kathryn. KJ: She had a stroke! GJ: One of their interns had asked to be in on the original surgery. She wanted to know exactly how to repair a spine from that kind of fall. She didn’t know she was sick. KJ: Is that supposed to make me feel better? GJ: The intern was immediately terminated from her position. Phoebe was supposed to make a full recovery. They spent another full day in surgery to try to make sure they cleared all signs of the virus. KJ: Phoebe is literally being eaten alive, inside out, by an infection. GJ: WHY do you have to say it like that?! KJ: BECAUSE. (struggling, trying not to sob) If I say it the way you want me to say it, I’m going to lose all my shit. GJ: (taking her to the couch gently. Molly whines at KJ because she knows she’s upset. KJ pets her absently and goes to the couch. Molly hops up on the couch with her and tries to distract her.) Katie, come on. Phoebe is dying, yes. She won’t be with us anymore. The way the doctors talk, it won’t be long now. Before too long, she’ll be completely wasted away in front of us. But the way I see it, this way, I get to say goodbye. KJ: What do you mean? GJ: If she would have succeeded, I would have never gotten the chance to tell her I love her one last time. I never would have gotten to replicate her her favorite breakfast, or help her paint, or dictate a story she came up with. I have cherished the last few years. And now that you’ve come home, I want you to cherish this time with her, too. KJ: What do I do? GJ: She’s your sister. Treat her like you would normally. KJ: Okay.

GJ and KJ join hands. They walk to a room. The door opens on a very sick woman. She’s completely emaciated; her collarbone juts out. She’s in a lot of pain, but upon seeing KJ, she smiles broadly. Rocco goes to her with a proud sense of loyalty.

Phoebe Janeway: Katie! KJ: (chuckling in spite of herself) Hey there, Pheebs. (looking around, she sees a portrait of her, standing on a starship bridge with her hands on her hips.) What’s this? PJ: Didn’t you know? KJ: Know what? GJ: Oh, Katie. You’d better sit down.

KJ in the present wakes up in tears. She goes to the living area. She replicates a fuzzy blanket and some coffee. She takes a few sips of coffee and then, lying down on the couch, starts a few breathing exercises. They don’t work, and she continues to try to cry quietly.

Bev wakes up to go to the bathroom. When she sees KJ isn’t in bed, she gets up to look for her.

Bev: Kate? KJ: (sniffling) Yeah? Bev: (going to her on the couch) Kate! What’s wrong? KJ: (sobbing profusely) My sister killed herself because of me. Bev: What? No. (obviously still exhausted) What happened? KJ: Three years ago, when Voyager was declared lost, Starfleet command asked my sister to paint a portrait of me to hang at headquarters. She went up to the roof of her apartment building, and she began to paint. Hours later, when she was done, she sat back to look at the painting. My “death” weighed so heavily on her that she threw herself off the roof. Bev: Oh no, Kate.(stroking her hair) KJ: Someone found her immediately and got her to medical. Her spine and skull were severely fractured, but the doctors got right to it. One of the interns asked to assist in the surgery for first hand experience of how to fix a spine and skull that were so badly fractured. She didn’t realize she was very ill until halfway through the surgery. She became ill within a sterile environment with an extremely vulnerable patient unconscious before her. The doctors did all they could to clean her wounds out, but the day after her surgery was over, she had a massive stroke. The viral parasite was in place, and there was nothing they could do to remove it. Bev: Viral parasite? KJ: Basically, it’s a strain of a virus so vicious that it’s comparable to a parasite. (Bev nods) while I was home, she told me all this. Bev: and you think if you wouldn’t have left, she wouldn’t be like this. KJ: she would be alive and well and able to be my maid of honor if I get married. But she’s...not. She’s dead. (rocking back and forth, sobbing profusely) Bev: Computer, replicate weighted blanket, ten pounds, jersey knit. (Bev retrieves the blanket and places it over KJ’s shoulders. KJ relaxes a bit, but still collapses into a puddle of tears in Bev’s lap.) Kate, I am always going to be here for you. The late nights, the tears? I signed on for that, too. I will be there at the funeral, right by your side. Nothing is more important to me than you right now, right here. So cry all you need to. I’m going to shut up now and just hold you for as long as it takes. I love you.

1 note · View note

mia-cooper · 5 years

Text

2018 Fanfic Year in Review: April

I Stand Relieved (T) | @jhelenoftrek | ST:VOY | Janeway x Chakotay, Paris x Torres | 32,054 words

Decisions, decisions. Which ones are right and which ones are wrong? Armed with only a smattering of strange and disturbing clues, the crew of Voyager enters a race against time to change fate.

I don’t think I’d ever actually read a Voyager horror story until this one, and this Invasion of the Body Snatchers-style fic works brilliantly. The suspense just keeps on climbing and the ending makes you breathe a sigh of relief, but in the best horror tradition, there’s an epilogue… Don’t read this one just before bedtime. (There’s also great J/C, fantastic lower decks crew interactions and POVs, and a giving-up-command dilemma for Janeway, so... just read it. It’s great.)

In Expectation (T) | Katherine | ST:VOY | Voyager | 1,175 words

She came to awareness of herself in what her crew designated the Delta Quadrant, near-incalculably far from the shipyards where her shell had been made.

Speaking of horror, here’s a Demon Seed-style story that I bet Tom Paris and Rain Robinson would put on their Top 5 Scifi B-Movies list. Normally, I roll my eyes at both Sentient Voyager stories and anything resembling babyfic, but something made me read this, and I’m glad I did. It’s short, which leaves me wanting more and feeling quite unsettled by the conclusions I’m drawing to fill in the blanks, and although Voyager tries to put the crew at ease as to her intentions, her method of doing so only makes it creepier.

Thanking My Lucky Stars That I’ve Found You (T) | Byrcca | ST:VOY | Paris x Torres | 3,135 words

He lay there and tried not to hate John Torres. From what little B’Elanna had said of him, he’d imagined a large, stone-faced monster. But John Torres was small. Not in stature, in personality. He was small, and quiet, and inconsequential. Faded. It didn’t seem possible that that nothing of a man had done so much damage to the woman Tom loved.

What I love most about this story – Tom’s POV on B’Elanna’s first conversation with her father in decades – isn’t just that his love for her shines through so strongly. It’s that his respect shines through. He’d give anything to take away the pain of her childhood trauma, but he knows he can’t, and he knows she wouldn’t want that anyway, because she doesn’t need to be fixed. There’s nothing wrong with her, and Tom knows that. So he doesn’t try to make up for John Torres’ abandonment of his daughter. He just shows that daughter she deserves better, and that he’s there for her.

Identify Yourself (G) | gingercinderella | ST:VOY, BSG (2003) | Apollo, Paris | 3,481 words

The Voyager messes up and tumbles headlong into a wormhole that takes them to a part of space that's far, far away and a long time ago.

The Galactica finds themselves facing down a new ship one day.

I’m still figuring out what to make of this one. The author notes they’re not very familiar with Voyager, and for a fangirl like me I picked up on that (the nerdy bits about warp speed aren’t right, and Janeway’s big decision seems both untimely and somewhat out of character) but it’s an exciting and fascinating read anyway. I admit to not having watched BSG since it aired (I hated the finale so much I threw the TV remote across the room in disgust) but from memory, the characterisation, interactions and language are spot on in this story. And I like the little hints of flirtation between Apollo and Paris (feels like there’s a Greek tragedy in the making there…) I wish we could get more though. It feels as if the story ends abruptly. And not exploring the Seven of Nine/Six parallels is a wasted opportunity. So all I can hope is that this is a WIP (it’s not marked as such), because I need to know more. I need more!

The Damage Done (T) | Byrcca | ST:VOY | Paris x Torres | 2,245 words

Because it’s unreasonable to assume that Tom was celibate until he and B’Elanna came together in Revulsion. Set sometime after Faces.

This story has all the angst and miscommunication you could want in a slow burn, pre-romance teaser tale. Byrcca has such a knack for detailing the inner lives of both Tom and B’Elanna, to the point where I’m starting to ship them hard, so thanks for that Byrcca, I needed another ship in my life. At least this one has a canonical resolution and a happy ending … But in the meantime, there’s wounded, emotionally fragile B’Elanna with her easily-crushed ego, and lonely, traumatised Tom with his bad decisions, and it rips my heart apart and it’s delicious.

By Honor Bound (M) | @weary-hearted-queen | ST:VOY | Janeway x Chakotay | 13,312 words

When a trade deal goes south, it is up to Chakotay to rescue the away team.

Diplomacy gone wrong, alien prison torture, heroic Janeway protecting her crew, Chakotay to the rescue – what’s not to love? And Seren has the most beautiful way with words – it’s almost poetry, and it’s so redolent you can smell and hear and feel the things she’s describing. I love that we get to watch the action through the eyes of a couple of lower-decks crewmen. The prison camp is horrible and Janeway’s sacrifices heart-shattering. And though this story is full of darkness and hopelessness and doom, there’s something beautiful about it, and especially about the steadfast love and allegiance this crew shows each other throughout their ordeal.

It’ll be a few days before I continue posting these monthly fic recs – they take quite a while to prepare, especially as I delve further back in time. And I feel the need to get back to my own writing for a bit. Thanks for your patience – in the meantime, check the #miarecs2018 tag if you’re looking for something to read.

#miarecs2018 #fic recs #st:voy #bsg

19 notes · View notes

delwin47 · 6 years

Text

Fic Commentary: True North

@captacorn asked:

For the commentary meme, from the last section of True North. The passage starting with "Have you slept at all?" until the end (which is a bit more than 500 words, but I am really curious about the space western they are watching. Are they watching Trek on Trek? Are you being super meta?)

First, a quick plug:

True North …on compasses, relative direction, centers of gravity and Tom Paris…

FFN AO3

Commentary below the break...

So to start, this section is written in the second person, which is a departure from the norm for me and one which I very much enjoyed. I wanted something that would balance the emotion of the previous Tom and Owen section but to do so with more of a sense of quiet intimacy -- the second person was an attempt to achieve that effect.

Instead you ask, "Have you slept at all?"

Tom shakes his head, no. You do a quick calculation: thirty-six hours since he'd volunteered his piloting skills to the away mission - and argued to keep you off of it. In those thirty-six hours, Tom had delivered a child into the world with his own hands and used his skills and knowledge to convince its tiny heart to begin beating. And then, for good measure, he had fought to save a civilization from extinction.

But, when his eyes finally close, all he'll see will be crashing shuttles, burnt and bloodied bodies, a subterranean laboratory and Durst's ripped and stolen face, slaughtered children on the fields of Tarakis - and Joe Carey.

One more nightmare to add to the list.

This scene takes place in the immediate aftermath of ‘Friendship One’ with both Tom and B’Elanna processing Joe Carey’s death. The ‘--and argued to keep you off it’ is intentionally set off with a dash, hopefully to draw the reader’s attention to it -- and to the reminder that Joe could very easily have not been on the away mission at all. In which case the only two human hostages would have been Tom and B’Elanna themselves.

And then there is the balance of all of Tom’s heroics over the last 36 hours against the deaths that, in his head at least, are on his hands. For Tom, the heroics can never truly balance out the deaths. B’Elanna’s understanding of this is a mark of the mature stage of their relationship: in the first fic I ever wrote set in season 2, B’Elanna furiously accuses Tom of wanting to ‘play the hero’. By this point she understands how Tom sees himself, and how little he values his own heroics.

Running his fingers back through his hair, Tom lets out a long breath and then tosses the PADD onto the glass-topped coffee table. He turns, eyes focusing on you for the first time. "How are you doing?"

An impossible question to answer two-thirds of the way through a pregnancy and running a now yet more short-staffed engine room on the wrong side of the galaxy.

"My feet are swelling again."

As hoped, he grins, "That I can do something about," and leans down to remove your boots before pulling your feet up into his lap - slowly, giving time for you to ponderously turn your body. He stretches a long arm across the sofa to prop a pillow behind your back. "Better?"

"You're too good to me."

His fingers work skillfully and methodically across the tension points in your feet and calves. (You had once suggested he should try practicing Chopin with those fingers; that night, he'd been more than happy to prove that he had a half dozen better uses for them.)...

So this is more than a little bit about setting up the Chopin reference but also giving a sense of the normalcy and stability that these two have found in their relationship -- a touchstone amidst the unpredictability of the Delta Quadrant.

...He's back to chewing on the inside of his lip though, and his brow is again lined as his eyes steal back to the still active PADD. You wait: patience, such as it is, has been a late coming and hard won virtue.

"It was senseless: Joe's death."

Senseless, irrational, the act of a single man pushed past the point of reason. It had been Tom himself who had recognized all of that - had based his argument to the Captain upon it - had saved a world and the lives of thousands with that argument.

But it's a single life - and that single senseless death - that will haunt him.

A tiny foot kicks hard into your diaphragm. You gasp reflexively and Tom looks up in concern. With a half-smile of apology, you reach to guide his hand to the top of your abdomen so that he can share in the show your suddenly very awake daughter is putting on.

His awed reaction has become familiar but that takes away none of the impact of his delighted expression. But, too soon, the corners of his mouth fall as his eyes are drawn yet again to the PADD on the table.

"What is it?"

He shrugs in something between anger and frustration. "All the fuck ups, the wrong turns, the endless mistakes - and I get you. Both of you." He looks back to meet your eyes. "How does that make any sense?"

You hold his gaze and you see the boy who grew up reading tales of heroes and knights, who still plays in a world of black and white fantasy where the good guy always wins...

This is pretty much the heart of the scene -- this is Tom questioning his own moral compass. In my mind, Tom is someone who wants -- and on some level still expects (or again expects) -- good things to happen to good people, or to people who do good things. This is the theme I explored in No Good Deed where Auckland-era Tom desperately tries to hold on to his idea that he has done The Right Thing despite all consequential evidence to the contrary. When his idea finally collapses, we get the cynical, self-destructive Tom who is willing to sell out his former shipmates for an early release.

...Your mother, you think, would have liked this blue-eyed husband of yours.

I sort of love this line and am going to resist interpreting it because it is intentionally left uninterpreted for the reader -- and my guess(hope?) is that each reader will have a slightly different interpretation depending on how they read Tom, how they read B’Elanna and how they read the relationships between both B’Elanna and Tom and B’Elanna and her mother (and her Klingon heritage) at this point.

The baby kicks again, connecting squarely with Tom's hand. "Ouch." He winces in sympathy even as he again smiles, pulled back from his dark mood by the child that you've somehow created together. You consider, not for the first time, that the simple biological odds stacked against her conception might well be the least improbable aspect of this child's existence.

All the fucks ups, the wrong turns, the endless mistakes and I get you – and you get me.

You place a hand on top of Tom's, your fingers brushing against the edge of his wedding band. "Maybe it doesn't make sense. Maybe it was never supposed to."

And this is the resolution, the counter to Tom’s downward spiral pre-Voyager: that here he is again facing the reality that the universe makes little sense in who or what it rewards, but now he has an alternative grounding point -- and he’s no longer on his own.

Maybe interestingly, this piece is intentionally written in reverse chronological order: the first scene takes place in the original Voyager timeline, 8 years in the future; the second scene takes place in the altered timeline, a few months later than this one. This scene is meant to be grounding point for the other two: that Tom’s ability to counsel Kathryn and reconcile with Owen both stem from the solid foundation that we see here.

You stay on the sofa with him, eventually sliding over so you are resting against his chest, his right arm wrapped around you and his hand lying along the curve of your daughter's back. You watch a half-dozen episodes of some absurd television series that Tom terms a 'space western' but mostly you wait for the inevitable moment when Tom's eyes finally flutter closed. On the television, a saucer-shaped vessel speeds its way across an endlessly repeating star field; the effect is oddly soothing. Shifting so that your abdomen is better supported against sofa cushions, you let your own eyes close as well: whatever the coming night might bring, you'll navigate through it together.

Ah, the ‘space western’! In my mind it is Lost in Space because the title is appropriate and it may well be the most absurd television show I’ve ever sat through a late night marathon of. But it is also intentionally open to interpretation. Mostly I wanted that early sci-fi repeating star field -- no sense of relative direction or an external fixed point by which to navigate.

Thank you so much for the ask! I don’t think I had read through this piece since I posted it and I very much enjoyed revisiting it.

#my fic #voyager #tom paris #b'elanna torres

5 notes · View notes

crossroadsdimension · 7 years

Link

I promised Angst for breakfast and you are all getting Angst for breakfast!

Putting the chapter under the cut for those of you too lazy to go to AO3 or hunt it down on FF.net!

Be warned: there’s some torture in the beginning of this chapter. Cipher’s got some anger and he needs to let it out on someone.

Chapter 14 – Business As Usual

When the Master returned, he came back with a tenseness that caused Ford to stiffen as one of his tails started to ache.

He hardly had the time to prepare himself before he heard a snap of fingers and his tail ripped itself in two, getting only a short yell of from him as the pain subsided.

The Master laughed, and the tension in the air lightened up a little. “AH, I NEEDED THAT! NOTHING LIKE A GOOD SCREAM OF PAIN FROM A PET TO GET THE TENSION OUT!”

Ford’s tails spread themselves out a little under his trench coat; now that he had three instead of two, he had to arrange them differently than he had before.

“BUT THAT ONE DEFINITELY ISN’T ENOUGH.”

Something pulled on Ford’s collar from behind and lifted him up abruptly into the air, leaving him gagging for breath as he dangled in the middle of the Fearamid, wrists and neck attached to chains that stretched up to the ceiling.

“I’M UP FOR SOME OLD NOSTALGIC TORTURE SESSIONS TO GET ME IN A GOOD MOOD.” The Master rubbed his hands together, eye crinkled up in an eagerness that should have left Ford feeling a sense of dread.

Now, however, there was only a hollow preparedness. As he couldn’t escape, the best he could do was endure what it was that the Master had planned.

The Master’s fingers sparked with electricity, shooting back and forth between his fingertips as the voltage increased with loud crackles that caused the fur on Ford’s tails to rise because of the static charge alone. The feeling of the electricity coursing through his fur was enough to make them twitch out of discomfort.

The Master’s hands lunged forward, and Ford was caught in the electrical blast. The scream it ripped out of him was quickly coupled with the Master’s crazed laughter of delight. The dissonant noise caused Ford’s ears to slam down against his head in order to block it out as best he could.

However, it was impossible to block out one’s own screaming, and the Master’s laughter cut through everything as Ford screamed himself hoarse.

Eventually, the electricity stopped, leaving Ford to hang limply, burns covering his body and his clothes burned and torn through where the electricity came into contact with him.

The Master snapped his fingers, repairing the burns and the clothes but leaving the pain behind. “AH, THAT’S BETTER. I SHOULD DO THAT MORE OFTEN – IT’S VERY SOOTHING!”

Ford said nothing, still trying to catch his breath from the electrical firebrand that was burning in his skin and seeming to melt his insides.

Something flickered across his skin – a rippling aura of some kind that caught the Master’s attention.

“OH? SEEMS SOMEONE’S CAUGHT ANOTHER ONE!” The Master released Ford from the chains and held the kitsune in one hand. “GO TO, FORDSY! YOU KNOW THE DRILL!”

Ford nodded as the world flashed around him, placing him in new surroundings: a large chamber with glass windows looking into other, smaller chambers. Gray metal made up the walls and domed ceiling, but Ford didn’t follow the walls up to see where it was they went.

His eyes were trained on the group standing in front of him.

His counterpart – wearing the black portal garb he once had – shook his head slowly and tried to pull back and away, but the large scaly lizard-creature holding him by the neck kept him from going too far.

The little, short-haired girl with a ragged sweater that had a faded shooting star on the front tried to pull the lizard’s claws from around her neck in order to get away, but his claws only tightened, causing her to cry out.

Ford’s ears flicked back a little at Mabel’s terrified expression as Stanford instantly turned his attention to his niece before glaring at Ford.

“Yer the one, then?” the lizard monster grunted.

Ford gave a curt nod.

“There’s posters out fer ‘em both; Dimension S-D-687. “ The lizard paused. “If he wants ta find me, tell ‘im ta look fer The Collector in the Silvian-Delta Quadrant. He’ll know.”

Ford nodded again, then stepped forward and took hold of the energy leads that were attached to the cuffs on Stanford’s and Mabel’s wrists. The lizard let go of their necks, and the two captured Pines instantly started struggling and pulling back from Ford.

That didn’t save them from being warped to the Fearamid with Ford.

The two of them stopped pulling for a moment, and then Stanford let out a roar and started to pull even more ferociously than he had been before. “No! You can’t be doing this – I refuse to –“

“Grunkle Ford? Wh-what is this?!” Mabel pulled closer to Stanford, nervous and teary-eyed as she looked around at the throne room. She let out a strangled gasp when she saw the banners above the seat of petrified humans. “Wendy! Soos!”

“This is not our dimension,” Stanford snarled. He glared at Ford. “Where have you taken us?!”

“RIGHT WHERE YOU NEEDED TO BE, SIXER!” The Master was suddenly hovering over the top of them.

“You!” Mabel looked up at the triangle in fear and anger. “What did you do you dumb triangle?!”

“Mabel,” Stanford hissed.

“WELL, FORD OF DIMENSION—“ The Master fixed his gaze on Ford.

“Dimension S-D-687, Master,” Ford provided. His counterpart stiffened and started turning red in the face while Mabel started to look more and more alarmed by the second.

“AH! ONE OF THE DAILY DOUBLES, I SEE! QUITE THE LUCKY CATCH!” The Master cackled. “OTHER ME’S GOING TO BE SO PLEASED!”

“Other…there are more of you?!” Stanford glared up at the triangle, gritting his teeth in anger.

“WELL, THERE’S MORE THAN ONE OF YOU, SO WHAT DO YOU THINK?” The Master patted Ford on the head; his expression didn’t so much as twitch at the contact. “WELL, DRIFTER AND FALLEN STAR, I’D SAY YOU TWO JUST MADE SOMEONE’S LUCKY DAY!”

“G-grunkle Ford, what’s he talking about?” Mabel squeaked nervously.

“TO PUT IT SIMPLY, FALLEN STAR, I’M TURNING YOU IN AS THE MIDDLEMAN FOR A BOUNTY THAT’S ON YOUR HEAD.” The Master hooked a finger under Mabel’s chin and lifted it up, eye crinkling in amusement as her expression went wide-eyed and paled with horror. “YOU’RE GOING TO HELP MY OTHER SELF DO WHAT I’VE DONE WITH THE PLACE! AND I THINK YOU’RE GOING TO LIKE WHAT HE’S GOING TO DO! IN FACT….” The Master turned his eye to look at Ford. “HOW ABOUT I GIVE HIM A LITTLE INSPIRATION? YOU CAN TAKE HIM TO THAT CIPHER. TELL HIM IT’S A GIFT FROM ME. I’LL TAKE CARE OF GIVING THE BOUNTY TO….”

Ford knew what information the Master wanted. “He called himself the Collector of the Silvian-Delta Quadrant, Master.”

“AAAAH. TO LET GO OF A PRIZE SO EASILY MEANS HE WANTS THE BOUNTY EVEN MORE.” The Master rubbed his hands together, eye crinkling at the edges devilishly. “I’LL MAKE SURE THAT THE DELIVERY COMES EXTRA SPECIAL, AFTER YOU’VE SENT THEM ON THEIR WAY.”

Ford bowed his head, and as he raised it, his world flashed again, changing to another room made of brickwork. There was something…off, about this one, however.

While the brick was black, it was also purple and green and yellow at the same time – swirling together but still separate at the same time and Ford could tell that it was hurting and yet not hurting his eyes to look at.

“Well well well well well well well well well well well, what have we here?”

Stanford moved closer to Mabel as Ford turned his head, catching sight of a Cipher, hovering over where the throne had yet to be.

“Drifter, Fallen Star, and another Fordsy to play with! This must be my lucky day!”

“I am only here as a messenger, nothing more,” Ford replied. “The Master decided to send you a gift.” He held out the leads attached to the cuffs on his counterpart and Mabel. “He said he would pay the bounty as well.”

Cipher paused to consider that, his body tilting to the side ever so slightly. Then his eye brightened. “You gave up.”

Ford bowed his head as Stanford suddenly looked murderous.

“You…you bastard!” Stanford lunged for Ford, holding his cuffs as wide as he possibly could in order to wrap them around Ford’s neck.

Ford wove out of the way with practiced ease and slammed an elbow into his counterpart’s back, sending him slamming to the floor before planting a foot on his back.

Mabel’s eyes were watering – whether from tears or from the pain of looking at the place they were trapped in, Ford neither knew nor cared.

Cipher burst out laughing. “Excellent! I thought I’d heard that there were some Ciphers who’d gotten into your dimension, but I hadn’t seen the results before! How’d he get you on his side, huh?”

“I am not allowed to say unless the knowledge is unable to be passed to those who work against the Master.” Ford’s gaze flicked between Stanford and Mabel before looking back at Cipher.

“Hm. Well then, in that case.” Cipher held out a hand.

Ford handed over the energy leads without hesitation and stepped back from Stanford, allowing Cipher to yank him to his feet and pull Mabel away.

“Well, since your position is so intriguing, I’ll put these two aside!” Cipher snapped his fingers.

Mabel was in the middle of a scream when she and Stanford were abruptly transformed into sparkling crystal statues made of pink and red hues.

“So. How did Other Me do it?”

Ford’s gaze moved from his counterpart and his great-niece to Cipher. “The Master removed the willpower of myself and my family, then transformed us to suit his needs. We are, at present, his puppets, to follow his orders as he chooses.”

There was a moment as that sank in.

“He did that to….”

“The four of us.”

Ford might have felt something, once, at saying all this. But now, he was only empty. Three hundred years of serving Cipher, seeing counterparts pass through Cipher’s palace and see worlds in his own dimension fall to Cipher’s whim had changed him.

What was the point in feeling something that he had no use in feeling anymore?

“Hmm…interesting, interesting…” Cipher steepled his fingers. “And he wouldn’t feel angry with me if I, say, did the same thing?”

“The Master sent me as inspiration; I have no say in what you can or cannot do with them.” Ford motioned to the two crystallized humans.

Cipher’s eye brightened in an instant. “Excellent! In that case, I know exactly what I can do with these two!” He motioned with a “shooing” motion. “Go on, then. I can handle this from here.”

Ford bowed in response, and when he raised himself up again, he was back in the Master’s Fearamid.

Mabel flashed into view next to him a moment later, looking more forlorn than she had before.

“PACKAGES DELIVERED?” The Master asked slyly.

“Yes, Master,” Ford and Mabel responded at once.

Ford didn’t see the need to ask what it was that Mabel had just delivered; he could guess, but he didn’t have the permission to.

“EXCELLENT, EXCELLENT. YOU BOTH PERFORMED ADMIRABLY.” The Master motioned for the two of them to take up their positions in front of his throne. “NOW, I’VE GOT SOMETHING ELSE IN MIND TO TAKE UP SOME OF YOUR TIME.”

Ford’s ears twitched towards the Master as he knelt next to Dipper.

“THIS DIMENSION’S GETTING A BIT TOO TIGHT FOR ME AND THE HENCHMANIACS.”

We are less than nothing to him, Ford reminded himself. The Master had no reason to include them when speaking of those in his court. They weren’t Henchmaniacs, they were…less than that. Far less.

“SO I AM GOING TO USE YOU TO LIBERATE ANOTHER DIMENSION AND ADD IT TO THE PARTY!”

Ford saw Stan stiffen on the other side of the throne.

“IT’S NOT GOING TO BE ANOTHER DIMENSION LIKE YOURS, OBVIOUSLY – MY OTHER MES ARE GOING TO WANT THOSE LEFT ALONE. CAN’T HAVE MORE THAN ONE SET OF PINES PER CIPHER.” The Master chuckled darkly. “IF SHE KEEPS DOING WHAT SHE’S BEEN DOING, THOUGH, THAT MIGHT CHANGE.”

Ford had no desire to ask who “she” was.

“NOW, I CAN’T GO TO OTHER DIMENSIONS BECAUSE THE NIGHTMARE REALM DOESN’T EXACTLY LET ME HAVE A PHYSICAL FORM ANYMORE. THAT DOESN’T MEAN THAT YOU’VE LOST YOURS, BUT YOU’VE GOT JUST ENOUGH WEIRDNESS THAT YOUR PRESENCE CAN WEAKEN THE BARRIERS BETWEEN DIMENSIONS.” The Master laughed. “I’LL BE ABLE TO BREAK THROUGH WITHOUT NEEDING ANOTHER PORTAL!”

Anyone else would have had a sinking feeling at this point. Stan definitely did – the hair on top of his head was rising and gaining more of a feathery quality to it than it was supposed to have. His anger was still present, still filling him in the way that emptiness was all that was left of Ford.

Ford closed his eyes. If the Master was planning on using them to bring more dimensions into his chaos, that was his decision, not Ford’s.

“SO! I’VE SET YOU A TARGET – DO WHAT YOU HAVE TO DO IN ORDER TO STAY ALIVE AND STAY OUT OF SIGHT OF THE WIDER WORLD UNTIL I CAN COME IN. IF ANYONE FINDS YOU, FINISH THEM. UNDERSTOOD?”

“Understood, Master,” the four of them said at once.

“THEN GET MOVING!”

The Master snapped his fingers, and Ford’s vision went white.

#cross' fanfiction #gravity falls #puppet au #torture #pines family #kitsune!ford #star fairy mabel #BILL #also #drifting stars au #but only for a moment #getting closer to that needed Triangle Punching all the time I promise #we just have to slosh our way through the angst first #it's going to get worse before it gets better #but it WILL GET BETTER I SWEAR

10 notes · View notes

voyagerafod · 7 years

Text

Star Trek Voyager: A Fire of Devotion: Part 4 of 4: Hotter Than Hell: Chapter Twelve

Janeway struggled to her feet, still feeling dazed from when she and the others had all slammed against the wall. She was grateful that the Cyberman ship’s inertial dampeners, or whatever their equivalent was, hadn’t failed or she and the others would be so much splattered mess. She looked around. Tom had already gotten up and was frantically trying to hail Voyager, even though he had to know it was no use. Vorik was helping Gilmore to her feet, while Lydia Anderson was checking the back of Jaffen’s head for injuries. “Report,” she said. “We’re near Earth,” Tom said, sounding dejected. “Just not our Earth.” “Can we contact them?” she asked. A part of her hoped that perhaps the Earth of this reality, the one where the Cybermen had originated, would have something they could use to re-open the rift just long enough to get home. At least the fact that Voyager hadn’t replied when Tom tried to contact them meant that, presumably, the rest of her crew had made it home. Tom glared at the image of the planet on the main monitor. “No,” he said. “I was able to tap into the satellite network. The Earth of this universe is still in the early 21st century, though unlike us they didn’t have a Eugenics War. This Earth is more advanced in their 2014 than we were in ours, but not enough to do any good. They don’t even seem to have noticed us yet near as I can tell.”

Tears began forming in Tom’s eyes. He punched the navigation console. “Dammit, dammit, dammit!”

Janeway wished she had the words to help Tom, but she just didn’t. He had every right to be upset after all. Being separated from people you loved by over seventy thousand light years was one thing, but now there was an entire universe and hundreds of years separating him from his wife and newborn daughter, a child he’d spent mere days with. She looked back at the others. She could see sadness beginning to take hold over Anderson and Gilmore already. Jaffen seemed fine, if a bit dizzy. Vorik was as implacably Vulcan as usual.

Will we forget them too? she thought. Like we forgot about the Cybermen when they came to our universe? Or is it different for us now that we’re in their realm?

“So. What do we do now, Kathy?” Jaffen said. Janeway took a deep breath. She felt deep down like what she was about to say was a lie, but she needed to say something to give her people hope. Her crew, anyway. Jaffen would be happy wherever they were so long as he was with her. That was something she was glad for at least.

“The barrier between our worlds has been breached more than once,” she said. “It can be done again. I don’t know how long it will take, but we will find a way. I’ve gotten my people home before, I can do it again. Hell, if we’re lucky, it won’t take us seven years this time.” She added a smile to that last line, surprising herself at how genuine it felt. This speech was as much for her as it was for the others. “There is a man here, a time traveler, who helped Captain Picard and the crew of the Enterprise defeat the Borg/Cyberman alliance ten years ago,” she said, though Tom and Jaffen already knew that part. “If we can find him, I imagine he could get us home to our universe.” “How do we find him though?” Marla Gilmore said. “She’s right,” Tom said, slumped in his chair. “You heard what Seven said about him. He goes all over time and space, seemingly at random, in a ship smaller than one of our class 2 shuttles.” Janeway thought about it for a moment. Tom was right about that, but she remembered something else from that briefing; about the kind of man the time traveler was. Everyone looked at her, patiently waiting for what she would say next. “We make an impression,” she said. “Vorik, Gilmore, let’s get this ship in the best shape we can. Tom, go over this ship’s records. I want to know where the major hubs for information and trade are in this universe.”

“Ma’am?” Tom said. “It’s simple. We fix this ship up, we go around looking for sentients in need, and we help them,” Janeway said, now feeling genuinely hopeful instead of just trying to project it. This plan she was formulating had so many ways it could go wrong, but it was the best she had.

Besides, she thought, is this really that much more difficult than some of the crap we went through in our own reality?

Vorik raised an eyebrow. “With all due respect, I fail to see how that helps us return to our reality, Captain.”

“This time traveler,” Janeway said, “this man who simply calls himself The Doctor, has been an enemy of the Cybermen for centuries. Sooner or later, word is going to get to him about a ship belonging to one of his oldest and most dangerous enemies going around doing good in the galaxy.”

“And if I were in his place,” Anderson said, “that sure as hell would get my attention.” “Exactly,” Janeway said. Jaffen walked over to Janeway and casually put an arm around her waist. “I gotta say,” he said, smiling, “I like this plan.” “Can’t hurt to try, I suppose,” Tom said, sighing. Janeway looked up at the monitor. It was almost eerie how the Earth here looked just like the one she called home. She wondered for a moment if maybe it would be so bad to settle here if The Doctor never came.

No, she thought. I’m not ready to give up yet. Either we get to go back to our home, or we die here as heroes.

---

B’Elanna Torres cradled her daughter in her arms as she looked at the picture of Tom on the table in Admiral Paris’ home. Physical pictures weren’t the norm amongst the people of the Federation anymore, not with digital photo frames that could easily hold hundreds, even thousands of pictures instead of just one having been available to humanity even in the time before Zefram Cochrane’s first warp flight. The practice had never gone away completely though, and with the fear that the Voyager crewmembers who were trapped on the Cyberman ship when it got pulled through the rift would be forgotten an ever-present reality, they went from a mere act of sentimentality to a necessity. The new project that Admiral Paris, Reg Barclay, Lewis Zimmerman, and others had started on Jupiter Station required physical copies of photos of the lost crew, any information they had on them written down on real paper. The computer records of them were not lost completely but were spotty, incomplete, and easy to miss unless you knew what to look for. Or even that there was something to look for.

“Thank you for letting me stay here, Admiral,” B’Elanna said. “Please,” the Admiral said. “No need to be so formal. I’m off-duty, and you’re my daughter-in-law. Call me Owen. Besides, you don’t exactly have a place of your own right now.”

“That’s certainly true,” B’Elanna said. “I don’t even have a ship anymore.” Owen Paris sighed. “You heard about that, huh?” “I figured R&D would want a look at all that Delta Quadrant tech we brought back with us,” B’Elanna said, shifting on the couch slowly so as not to jostle the baby too much. “I don’t understand why they had to hide Voyager away though.”

“That was Nechayev’s idea,” Owen said, sighing. “She has this idea in her head that the new technologies inside Voyager would be a prime target for the Federation’s enemies. She’s not one hundred percent wrong, I’m sure the Romulans would love to have a look at that slipstream drive, even if it is burned out. But Elena is, well, Elena. Just keeping Voyager in the Sol system isn’t secure enough for her, she has to move it to one of her,” Owen groaned before completing the sentence. “Black Sites as she calls them. I don’t know if she doesn’t know the history behind that phrase or just doesn’t care.” B’Elanna nodded. “I knew that there was a chance, even with the pardon, that I might not get to serve on Voyager again, but that doesn’t make the mental image of a bunch of Intelligence types pawing at her warp drive any easier to stomach.” “With your credentials, record, and reputation,” Owen said, “I don’t doubt that once your maternity leave is up that you’ll be in anything less than high demand. There are a lot of captains in Starfleet who would kill to have an engineer with your skills on their team.”

“I don’t know,” B’Elanna said. “I might just try to join the team at Jupiter trying to figure out how to get Tom back from the other universe. If I didn’t have Miral, I’d be feeling so helpless right now.” “I can see about that,” Owen said, surprising B’Elanna who just assumed that he would be against it, perhaps arguing that she was too close, too emotionally invested. “Fact is, having people there who have more cause to care than anyone about the people we lost in that rift is probably the best way to ensure that they aren’t forgotten. If my own science training wasn’t a few years out of date since becoming an Admiral I’d be there myself.”

“Maybe we’ll go to Jupiter together then,” B’Elanna said. “It would certainly make it easier for you to spend time with your granddaughter.” “Speaking of,” Owen said, motioning towards Miral, “May I? I haven’t actually had the chance to hold her since you got to San Francisco.” “Of course,” B’Elanna said.

---

Harry Kim stood outside the airlock to the U.S.S. Delaware, reluctant to go inside. He reached into his pocket and fiddled once again with the folded up paper photo he had of his best friend, what was his name? The one who was in another universe now, or something like that. Why was it so hard for him to remember the name of his own best friend? “You understand, Lieutenant,” Lieutenant Ayala said coming up behind him “that the ship can’t take off from starbase with you standing in the connector.” “Right, sorry,” Harry said. “I guess it just doesn’t entirely feel real. I guess I just assumed I’d be going back to Voyager once I returned to duty.”

“I did too,” Ayala said. “But I guess R&D had other plans. The jerks.” Harry chuckled. “Yeah. Jerks.” He took a deep breath. “Okay, Let’s do this. At least I’ll have somebody from the old crew here. That should make it easier to adjust.” “More than one somebody,” Ayala said. “Didn’t you hear? Todd Mulcahey and Susan Brooks got assigned to the Delaware as well.” “I didn’t know that actually,” Harry said. “I’ll make sure to say hello after I report to the Captain.” The two men made their way through the open airlock onto the Nova-class ship. Harry had to admit it was a bit odd being on one of this class again, considering his last experience with one was the Equinox, but he didn’t want to dwell on it. He felt something in his pocket, not sure how it got there, but he figured he’d take it out later, once the Delaware was out of the Sol system.

He went through the open airlock first, Ayala close behind. The two quickly made their way to the nearest turbolift and rode it to the bridge, only to find it almost unoccupied. The only person there was a short haired red-headed human woman. Only when she turned around and Harry saw the four pips on her collar did he realize that this was his new commanding officer, Captain Kilkenny. “Ah,” she said, smiling. “Lieutenant Kim. Lieutenant Ayala. You’re early. I would’ve arranged for you to meet the rest of the senior staff if I’d known. Welcome aboard.” “Captain,” Harry said, standing at attention. “I look forward to serving with you.” “And I look forward to hearing some of your war stories,” the Captain said, practically radiating enthusiasm. “I mean, you two served aboard Voyager. You’re practically legends, and here I am, the one who’s going to be giving you orders.” Harry blushed. He looked over at Ayala, impressed at the man’s ability to maintain his composure. Harry turned back to face the Captain, but something behind him caught his eye, something sitting on one of the arms of the captain’s chair.

Is that a plush cat? He thought. The Captain realized he was looking at something behind her and turned around. “Oh, I see you’ve spotted Desmond,” she said. “Desmond?” Ayala said.

“My kitty,” Captain Kilkenny said casually, as though it should’ve been painfully obvious to him and Harry. “He’s been with me since my first assignment; the Kilimanjaro.” She sighed. “She probably would’ve been my first command if we hadn’t lost her to a Dominion sneak attack during the war. Could’ve been worse though. Out of 900 crew members 893 made it out alive. “But enough about old war wounds,” she said, her smile suddenly coming back. “Command has cleared us for departure at 0900 hours.” She checked the PADD in her hand. “Both of your quarters are on Deck 3. Feel free to get some rest before we head out.” “Aye, sir,” Harry said. “Aye, Captain,” Ayala said.

---

“A pleasure to finally meet you in person, Doctor,” Bruce Maddox said, extending his hand to The Doctor. “Likewise, Commander,” The Doctor said, accepting the handshake offer politely. “I was sorry to hear about what Starfleet Command decided to do with Voyager,” Maddox said. “Any plans, since you’re losing your sickbay?”

The Doctor looked around, his gaze falling on the Golden Gate Bridge off in the distance. “Not really. I have been offered a teaching position at Starfleet Medical,” he said. “I may take it, but not this semester. Some of my Voyager crewmates have invited me to meet their families. I think they feel they owe me since I treated them during our time together, as if I ever would’ve not. I imagine their spouses, children, and what not wish to thank me for making sure their loved ones made it home. I appreciate the sentiment, but because of it I can’t help but think about all the people on Voyager I couldn’t save.”

“I don’t think you need me to tell you even the best doctors Starfleet has can’t save everyone,” Maddox said.

“I’m well aware of that,” The Doctor, “but it doesn’t make it any easier to accept.”

Maddox nodded, and turned to look at the bridge as well. “I imagine that seeing the faces of your crewmates’ families might help. It won’t make the guilt go away, unless you decide to remove it from your program. But if Commander Data can learn to live with the downsides of having emotions, I doubt you will have any problems.”

“I suppose you’re right,” The Doctor said. “In that case I probably should go then. My first invitation just for today is meet with Lieutenant Carey and his family. Perhaps I’ll see you some other time.” “I wouldn’t mind that,” Maddox said. “I can read the Voyager logs anytime I like, but hearing about it from someone who was there is an experience no report can properly convey. If possible, I can even arrange for you and Data to meet. He’s mentioned that he finds your story inspiring.”

The Doctor smiled. “I would very much love to meet with him. I’ll get in touch once I know I have some time to spare, and we’ll see what we can do.”

---

Seven of Nine pulled her robe tight around her as the air grew colder. She looked at the night sky on the Ktarian homeworld and was amazed at how many stars you could see, even this close to a major metropolitan area. She watched as off in the distance at the spaceport the ship that had brought her and her family here, the Starfleet passenger courier Lois McKendrick, took off. Naomi was on the other side of the city, spending time with her father and his parents. Icheb had, mere months after arriving in the Alpha Quadrant, earned early entry into Starfleet Academy. Samantha had fallen asleep on a small couch in the room they were sharing while they were here, until their leave was over. Or so she’d thought until she heard Sam walk up to her. She didn’t turn to look as Sam slipped her arms around Seven’s waist and rested her chin on Seven’s shoulder. “Trouble sleeping?” Sam said. “Not tired yet,” Seven said. “Just... thinking.” “Still hoping we’ll see them again?” Seven didn’t need to ask to which ‘them’ Sam was referring. “The barrier between the universes has been breached before,” she said. “At least twice, and that’s just what I know of. Who’s to say-” “It’s okay, babe,” Sam said. “I think we’ll see them again too. If I know Captain Janeway as well as I think I do, she’s probably already got a plan in motion.”

Seven chuckled. “Probably an ill-advised plan with a low probability of success.” “Yeah, well, those have worked out for her pretty well so far,” Sam said before kissing the back of Seven’s neck. “Now, if you aren’t going to come to bed, at least close the balcony doors. Ktarian cold winds can sneak up on you. And don’t forget we’re meeting my sister tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Seven said, watching Sam as she went back inside. Seven turned and looked up at the stars one last time before doing so herself. Even if her crewmates never did return from the other universe, even if they hadn’t survived the breach, she would make sure that they wouldn’t be forgotten.

~The End~

Dedicated to my Dad, an OG Trekkie, for introducing me to Roddenberry’s vision.

My biggest regret was that he didn’t get to see how this story ended.

#a fire of devotion #Part 4 #chapter twelve #the end #star trek voyager #fan fiction #sam7

1 note · View note

zenosanalytic · 7 years

Text

DS9: Season 2 Doldrums

DS9 S2E 5-7(Cardassians, Melora, Rules of Acquisition) are Infuriating.

Their Premises aren’t actually bad:

Cardassians is about Cardassian war-orphans left on Bajor because 1)Cardassian culture takes a “fuck ‘em” approach to anybody unfortunate enough to lose/get separated from their parents and presumably 2)they’re interspecies children; this doesn’t get mentioned in this ep, but I can’t imagine the Cardassians would have taken half-Bajoran kids when they withdrew

Melora is about a scientist from a “low gravity” planet(that idea bugs me because it assumes life-bearing worlds are generally earth-sized, and thus, earth gravity is “standard”, but idk what else you’d call it |:T) assigned to DS9 for a survey mission in the Delta Quadrant.

Rules of Acquisition is about a female Ferengi masquerading as a male to escape the misogyny of Ferengi society and pursue a life in business who happens to be working for Quark when the Nagus brings him a unique opportunity.

And their execution isn’t universally terribly, either, but each has something about it that’s so frustrating/off-putting that it soured whatever was enjoyable about the episodes for me.

Caradassians is probably the best of the bunch. It’s built around this Cardassian boy named Rugal, who was left during the withdrawal and adopted at a very young age(4-6 it seemed like) by Bajoran parents, who raised him as a Bajoran(aside from the obvious Talks about how he looks different and how to deal with people who are mean to him for his heritage, obvsl). In summary, Gul Dukat plots to have him brought to the station to create a diplomatic incident to be used as an excuse to repatriate the boy as a way to embarrass his Cardassian “father”, Kotan Pa’Dar, of the Civilian government, thereby short-circuiting an investigation into crimes committed during the Occupation and discrediting the Civilian government in general. The plot’s very convoluted, but Bashir and Garak get to be sleuths and that’s super-fun to watch. It ends up being the case that Rugal was kidnapped by Gul Dukat from his family’s home after a resistance attack on it(raising the question of what, exactly, Dukat knew of that attack, and if it was carried out by Bajoran resistance at all or simply made to look as such; there’s an implication that Pa’Dar was opposed to the Occupation even when he was part of the colonial government there. Questions never examined further, unfortunately) and placed in a Bajoran orphanage, leaving Pa’Dar to think he had also been killed. Since he wasn’t dead, Pa’Dar leaving without him would be considered abandonment in the eyes of the Cardassian public given how much they care about Family(who, again, don’t give a single shit about all the Cardassian kids with no living relatives willing to claim them they left on Bajor), and that’d end his political career.

What annoys me about it is the transparent insincerity of the Starfleet officers’ concern for Rugal‘s opinion about the whole thing. There’s alot of platitudinizing that what ultimately matters is what Rugal wants, regardless of what the inquiry discovers, but the ep literally ends with a voice-over of Sisko saying his Cardassian “father” is “obvsl the real victim in all this”, and Starfleet handing him over to Pa’Dar with zero input from Rugal. Rugal’s real parents, the Bajorans who raised him, are nowhere to be seen and, iirc, don’t even speak at all in the second half of the ep. The Bajor government has zero input in any of this. So yeah, it’s just really offensive.

The thing is, if this was presented as Sisko just coolly making the politically expedient and strategically correct choice(save the moderate’s career by preventing the case from going public while doubling his debt to you by handing over the son he thought was dead and wanted back) regardless of what Rugal wanted, it wouldn’t bother me as much; It’d be a good early example of the cold-blooded political and strategic savvy Sisko would become known for. What really bugs me is that the sheer duplicitous sanctimony of their protestations to care about what Rugal wants are never presented or treated as such, even as they, in the end, hand him over like a poker chip. Oh, and also there’s this scene about O’Brien’s hatred of Cardassians and Keiko’s wrong-headed awkward do-gooderism ham-fistedly squashed in there that they really didn’t need.

Melora presents Melora’s natural lower-gravity biology as a disability and illness, which right off the bat was annoying. She’s not sick, she’s just from a different density planet from everyone else. Usually she uses a servo-harness and anti-grav chair to get around that won’t work for some McGuffiny reason so they have to put her in a wheelchair instead. But here’s the thing; why wouldn’t she just be in an anti-grav harness? The Fed uses Synthetic gravity Fields, so one could imagine a harness which generates a “filter” field around her, lessening the gravitons she’s exposed to to natural levels for her and thus allowing full mobility. Hell, depending on how Synthetic Grav fields work, I wonder if one could not simply program the central computers to weaken the field as it applies to her or her surroundings, keying the reduction to her comms badge or lifesigns. Or, given that there’s at least one whole planet of Federation members for whom low-grav is natural(and realistically if there’s one there’s gotta be more low grav worlds), why don’t they, IDK, have low-grav-exclusive crews? I mean, they clearly have the tech to not have to segregate like that, but it’s another solution that the writers choose to avoid by just deciding Melora’s species generally has no desire to leave their homeworld(so how’d they become warp-capable, DS9 writers???)

The show does a good job, for it’s time, presenting ableist-induced frustrations(from Bashir modifying her chair without informing her or asking her consent, to Jadzia implying Bashir knows “her condition” better than she does, to Sisko treating her desire to have her agency and opinions respected like those of any officer as essentially ridiculous, to stupid unnecessary frames jutting out every-goddamn-where in the station due to absurd Cardassian architectural tastes in Bulkhead design, to people assuming she must be sheltered and ignorant of galactic cultures because she’s “fragile”, to people babying her for the same reason, to random do-gooders wanting to “fix” her, to ect ect ect). The problem is, almost invariably, the show comes down on the ableists’ side, presenting her objections as unwarranted acts of rudeness meant to keep the world away(again: she grew up in a frigging low-grav culture where EVERYONE IS JUST LIKE HER! YOU GUYS ARE THE WEIRDOS TO HER!!! WHY WOULD SHE HAVE THESE PERSONALITY TRAITS!X4). It even has this weird pixie-dream girl element where she’s super-agile and strong and able to “fly” in low-G(which, if everything on her planet is evolved for low-g, why would they have the muscle mass to fling themselves into the air and stuff as Earth-G people do on the moon? Idk, maybe this makes sense scientifically, but it bugged me), which she teaches Bashir how to do because, of course, he immediately starts hitting on her and she totally goes for it once he proves his “brilliance” by jerkily eviscerating her distancing techniques. So you can see why I disliked it.

Then it ends with the survey being accomplished in a single ep(like, 3 or 4 days at most), which is stupid. And there’s this sub-plot about a partner Quark betrayed seeking revenge, which inevitably ties into the main-plot and I’m meh about that. And, of course, Bashir never mentions this deeply intimate romance, for the sake of which he developed an entirely new “treatment” for gravity intolerance off the discredited theories of an obscure medical researcher -which insultingly locates her physical difficulties in her brain rather than lower-density bones and muscles, a low-grav body plan, and a metabolism, equilibrium, and body-chem adapted for lower-g- ever again. Yeah.

Rules of Acquisition, of course, makes the female Ferengi, Pel, fall in love with Quark. This is the first ep she’s ever been in, and no reason is ever given for why she’d feel this way about him. Everything she does is, of course, driven by her love for him, and not a desire to gain profit, or prove herself, or any other personal ambition. The ep is filled with lines written for Jadzia to say justifying, excusing, or treating as a joke, misogyny.

Just: either get rid of Jadzia’s excuse-making for Ferengis, or make Ferengi misogyny less pervasive, as they do in much later eps with Rom and(to a lesser extent) Quark.

Pel really should have been intro’d earlier and been a recurring character for a time, with her gender being revealed in this ep. I also don’t get why Ferengi women would have such softer, more melodious, non-scratchy, non-nasal voices compared to the men. Having her natural voice BE her Male!Pel voice, or at least very close to it, would have made the point about gender equality far better.

If there was going to be a romance in it that needed to be developed(preferably over many eps); Pel needed to have a reason for being drawn to Quark, even if it was just “I think he’s sexy”. Personally, I’d like it if -behind his sleazy bluster- Quark(and Rom) was actually less misogynistic and creepy towards women than most Ferengi men as a result of his mother(though still with lots of room to grow), and willing to take hits to his business to stand, in evasive ways, for those principles, and that this was at least in-part why Pel found him endearing.

Pel’s primary motivation ought to be that of any Ferengi -making profit to achieve social status and personal power- with any attraction to Quark coming second, though still personally important enough to prevent her from betraying him.

Pel is responsible for nearly every success they achieve in this ep and Quark really needs to be written as less hapless, which is honestly a problem with his characterization in general. In one ep, Quark is dealing hard-nosed and unflinchingly with the worst kinds of galactic scum(though he hates violence and tries to prevent it, which is a consistent characteristic I love for him, and which Shimerman does a wonderful job of both presenting, and presenting Quark’s attempts to hide and feelings of ambivalent pride/shame over it), and the next he’s grovelling and incompetent before the merest aggression and resistance. I’m not saying he shouldn’t be a physical coward(that’s an important bit of his character and it works), he just needs to have a tolerance for menace appropriate to the line of work as a black-market Fixer and Mastermind that he’s chosen for himself. Plus, I don’t really buy that Pel as presented, with her intense dedication to the Rules of Acquisition and business acumen, would find someone as out of his depth as Quark in this ep attractive. Of course she shouldn’t have to, since Quark is SUPPOSED to actually be a good entrepenuer, hampered by his occasionally quixotic bouts of ethical behavior, but the writers just can’t help writing in these “funny” scenes of Quark being useless.

The plot is actually sort of decent for this one, though Rom’s rather immediate jealousy doesn’t make any more sense than the other things which needed long-term building up to work in this ep. Maybe the discovery of her gender could be accomplished some other way? Perhaps have the Nagus screw them at the end of the deal and have Pel throw her lobes in his face out of rage as he’s compligloating at them about their acumen in realizing his true objective and brokering the meet? Or maybe have Quark accidentally discover her gender in this ep, decide to keep it quiet, then have them both present in a later ep for the Dominion negotiations and have the Dominion agents reveal it out-of-hand half-way through, without realizing the difficulties they’ve put her in(maybe as bred merchants, they have an acute sensitivity to biochemistry or something and can just smell that she’s very likely female). I really like that possibility, because it’d put the Nagus in the position of having to keep her on to finish the negotiations, both for her aptitude and the chance that kicking her off would offend the Karemma, and it’d set up an exit for the character that would be a clear step-up for her; maybe the Nagus, to avoid personal embarrassment and because the Karemma connect with her so well during the negotiations, decides to make her his Delta-quadrant-side silent factor, working through Quark; an effective exile that hides the importance of a female to one of his greatest deals, but still leads to huge profits and a notable position of importance for her. This would also give a good reason for her to pop up as a guest character in later episodes.

#Star Trek #ST: DS9 #DS9 S2 #DS9: Cardassians #DS9: Melora #DS9: Rules of Acquisition #zA's Outside Viewing #zA's Trenchant Literary Criticism #Long Posts #DS9 Rewrite

1 note · View note

myenterpriseisparked · 3 years

Text

Hold Me Tight

Time to publish my compulsory Endgame Fix-it Fic.

This assumes that C/7 never happened.

In the seven years aboard Voyager, Chakotay had been through a lot; he’d been linked up to a hive mind, he’d been brainwashed into committing mutiny, and he’d watched his friends die more than once (some of them dying more than once per person, in fact). He’d seen death, he’d seen new life, he’d been tortured, he’d been healed. Somehow, all of that experience (and, frankly, trauma) did not prepare him for the absolute rollercoaster that was their final day in the Delta Quadrant and their first day back in the Alpha Quadrant.

From the arrival of Admiral Janeway to the heart-stopping moment that Earth came onto their viewscreen in the wake of an exploded Borg cube, each moment had taken its toll on the first officer until, in the quiet moments after they had come into orbit around Earth and were ordered to stay put until Starfleet could confirm their identities and open a bay for them, he was certain he was going to fall asleep on his feet.

He stood at the helm, too afraid to sit for fear of actually drifting off, keeping an eye on the sensors as Earth passed, blue and green and more beautiful than he ever remembered, quietly below.

“Commander Chakotay: my ready room.”

Her husky voice sounded much more awake than he felt. “On my way.”

She was standing at the window, watching Earth drift below just as he had been a moment before. Her hands were clasped behind her back, but she seemed more relaxed than he remembered seeing her in quite some time. Quietly, he stepped up next to her and mirrored her stance.

“Well, we made it.” It felt stupid to say because, of course they had made it, Earth was right there but he couldn’t think of anything else to say. The weight of their journey was heavy in the air and yet, Chakotay felt just a bit lighter than he had in the Delta Quadrant before the admiral had arrived.

“We did.”

He heard the smile in her voice and glanced down at Kathryn for just a moment; the morsel of joy gracing her lips was somehow more beautiful than the vast planet below.

He turned back towards the window as a pleasant warmth settled in his chest. “I-”

Suddenly, slender fingers were grasping the collar of his jacket, pulling him downward with a surprising strength. Soft lips met his with a firm but brief pressure. Just as he registered what was happening, the moment was over and nervous blue eyes were looking up into his.

He froze for a moment, scarcely believing that Kathryn Janeway had kissed him. He’d dreamt of such a scenario, imagined what it would feel like to finally push away all of their parameters and show her exactly what she meant to him. A thousand different scenes of such an action had run through his mind in the seven years they had been in the Delta Quadrant. None of them compared to the real thing.

Every cell in his body wanted to lean back down and kiss her until someone told them to stop. Every cell, that is, save for one.

“Kathryn,” he swallowed, trying to clear away the rasp in his voice, “are you sure?”

She held his gaze with a look he had seen in her eyes many times before, the one where she was nervous about the result of her actions, but too stubborn to back down from the decision she had made. “More sure than I have been in a long time.”

“But our parameters-”

“The hell with them.” She swallowed. “I’ve taken you for granted for far too long, Chakotay. You’ve always been there and I’ve always kept you at arms length. Now that we’re back home, I-” Kathryn gave him a small smile. “Well, I realized that no place could ever be home without you.”

He smiled back cautiously. “Are you sure you’re really ready for this? Because to love you openly, Kathryn... I’ve got seven years of pent up romantic tension behind me and I might get serious about this very quickly.”

“Good.” She smiled even wider, her eyes lined with silver. “Because I also happen to have seven years of dreaming about a future with you behind me and I want to get started as fast as possible.”

The last bit of his mind that was holding him back let go and he smiled fully, his heart suddenly very full. “That almost sounds like a challenge.”

Her smile became a playful smirk and she tilted her head. “Maybe it is.”

“Good. Because I want a big house with a dog and lots of kids and I want to be so affectionate that Harry Kim refuses to be seen with us.”

She laughed aloud at that, throwing her head back and patting him on the chest. “I’ll agree to all of that save for one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“I want two dogs.”

“I’ll agree to another dog if we can also get a cat.”

“A cat? I didn’t take you for a cat person.”

“No that’s right - you thought I was a bear person.”

The reference to their earlier years on Voyager made her laugh again as he tucked her into a tight embrace, her head resting nicely under his chin. They stayed like that for a moment, savoring the closeness they had both craved for years.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to- to let us be like this.” Her voice was quiet.

Chakotay leaned back and lifted one hand to softly cup her cheek. “Hey, don’t blame yourself. I was holding us back too, I’m just not as good at hiding my feelings. What’s important now is that we’re here.”

Kathryn leaned into his touch with a smile. “I love you, Chakotay.”

The smile he gave in return was nearly blinding. “I love you too, Kathryn.”

He wasn’t sure who kissed who this time; maybe they leaned forward at once. What he did know was that kissing Kathryn Janeway with the hopeful future they had just laid out before them in his mind was the most at-home he had ever felt, on a planet or in space or otherwise.

#this was originally going to be a lot more subtle #but then i said #nah #lets make it mushy enough that a baby could eat it #This will also be on AO3 #Star Trek Voyager #chakotay #kathryn janeway #I'm certifiably in love with Captain Janeway #captain janeway #J/C #J/C deserved batter

13 notes · View notes

summahsunlight · 5 years

Text

This Way Became My Journey, CH. 3

Word Count: 4363

Pairings: Janeway/Chakotay, Paris/OFC

Characters: Kathryn Janeway, Chakotay, Tom Paris, Sarah Barrett (OC), Harry Kim, B’Elanna Torres, Kes, Neelix, the Doctor

Master List

Against her better judgement, Kathryn Janeway has taken her children with her on the trip to the Badlands to track Chakotay and the Maquis rebels. But when the ship is thrown into the Delta Quadrant, Janeway is forced to join with the Maquis in order to survive the treacherous, unknown part of the galaxy.

Voyager's conference room wasn't as grand as some of the other ones he had seen in his day, but Tom Paris reasoned it was functional. Sarah Barrett herself had requested that he join the senior staff for a briefing. She hadn't said what admiral would be briefing them, but she had mentioned something about a conference call. She had made it a point to walk in with him; she wanted the officers who opposed of him to know she wouldn't stand for it.

"What is he doing here?" Commander Cavit asked hotly.

Sarah raised her chin slightly as she took her seat. "I asked him to be here, Commander. He is after all here to help us find the Maquis."

Derek Evans, the Chief Engineer, leaned back in his chair with a scowl on his face. "We're perfectly capable of finding the Maquis in our own," he grumbled.

Tom noticed Sarah's response was a hard glare at that man, which made him divert his eyes. She's two for two, he thought whimsically as he took his seat next to her. He was happy for the support, he needed all of it that he could get. Glancing across the table he met the eyes of Harry Kim. He was certain at some point during this three week mission that even young, ambitious Harry would see him for what he really was, a screw up and no body wanted to be friends with a screw up.

Kathryn Janeway walked briskly into the room and called the meeting to order. "We'll be receiving an update from Headquarters any minute. Has there been any sign of the Maquis?"

"None yet," Kim replied. "Short and long range sensors are picking up nothing; we appear to be the only ship in this sector of space."

"I haven't detected any other warp trails in the vicinity," Stadi said. "We're still following the trails of the Gul Evek's ship and the Val Jean."

Janeway curtly nodded her head. "Keep all sensors scanning for that ship." The comline beeped then and she pressed a button on a panel near her chair. "Janeway."

"We're receiving a transmission from Admiral Hanson, Captain."

"Patch him through."

"Aye Captain."

Tom turned his chair about, not looking forward to this message. Hanson had been one of the admirals adamant that he be ushered out of Starfleet permanently. The good Admiral was probably not happy that Janeway had asked to use him on this mission. The Admiral's face soon filled the viewscreen. He looked older and more haggard than Tom had last seen him.

"Captain Janeway," Hanson began, "I wish I had some good news to bring you. Unfortunately we still haven't heard from Mister Tuvok. Headquarters believes that the ship was lost in the Badlands. It's your mission now to bring in the wreckagec for further analysis."

"What exactly are we looking for?" Janeway questioned.

"Leave that for us to determine, Captain, Hanson out."

The screen went black and Janeway quickly ushered the senior staff back to work, except Sarah. Tom caught a glance of her lingering behind to speak with the Captain before the doors shut and he went about his business.

Janeway stood at the head of the table, palms leaning against the surface. "Your opinion on that message."

"I'm not sure how they could determine that the Val Jean had been destroyed when there has been no sign of wreckage. As for what we're looking for, I'm not sure. There's been speculation that a Federation ship was responsible for shooting the Val Jean down, but it's just speculation," Sarah answered. "If it was, then Headquarters has a bigger problem that the Maquis on their hands."

The Captain shook her head. "A ship just doesn't disappear without a trace like this."

Sarah stiffened slightly. "Captain, the Badlands aren't your average trip through space. Plasma storms could completely destroy a ship without leaving a trace. There have been lots of ships that have disappeared without a trace."

Janeway grinned sadly. "At least in those cases traces of something had been found. We're grasping at straws here."

"Isn't that part of our job, ma'am?"

"I suppose it is, Counselor," Janeway said, with a wave of her hand. "Thank you, you're dismissed."

Sarah left the room to find Tom standing outside waiting for her. "Thanks, for sticking up for me."

"I'm just doing my job," she said, getting into a turbo lift.

Tom followed her. "I know what people think of me, it can't be easy doing your job."

"Deck two," Sarah ordered the lift. She looked patiently at Tom.

"That's where I'm going too."

Sarah didn't think it was coincidence. "Perhaps you don't know a lot about me Mister Paris, but I'm not a fan favorite around here either. My job was going to be rough from the start whether or not you were here."

"You wound me, Counselor," Tom said. "Here I thought it was because you liked me."

The lift doors opened. Sarah led the way out, glancing over her shoulder at Paris. His grey-blue eyes were fixed upon her face in a look that she had seen far too often from men, but there was something different about his look, she just couldn't put her finger on it. "Tell me something, Paris, were you born this arrogant or did you learn it over time."

Tom quirked a grin. "That's not arrogance, sweetheart, it's charm."

"Sorry, I get them confused all the time," Sarah said, typing in the access code to her office.

"Don't worry about it; join me for lunch?"

"I have a date...with a few personnel reports," Sarah said, slipping into her office. The door slid shut and she closed her eyes and sighed. She shouldn't like him, he really was cocky, arrogant and self-centered, but she couldn't help it. For whatever reason Sarah liked Tom Paris but there was no way she was ever going to admit it to him, that would only make him even more cocky, and the ship didn't need that.

The mess hall seemed to be the place if you wanted a lot of social interactions. There were at least twenty people in the room when Tom Paris had entered, one of them being Harry Kim sitting with the First Officer and the Doctor. There was no doubt in his mind that the officers were telling young Harry all about what he had done previously to land him jail. He found that it made his blood boil, because Harry had been the only one to be civil to him, with the exception of Janeway, and that pretty counselor, Sarah Barrett. Paris tried to ignore the angry feelings as he went to one of the replicators.

"Tomato soup," he ordered the computer, his eyes glancing over his shoulder at the group. The CMO and Cavit were facing him and both saw him looking their way. For a brief moment their eyes met in glares, but Tom turned back to the computer when it started to babble at him.

"There are fourteen varieties of tomato soup available from this replicator," the computer responded, beginning to list off all of them. Paris rolled his eyes. All he wanted was a bowl of tomato soup and the blasted computer had to go into a full blown out menu.

"You need to be specific," a small voice said.

He glanced down to see a small boy standing next to him. He was unaware that there were children on board the ship and the sight of a five year old shocked him. The kid was of average height for his age, with short dark hair and dazzling blue eyes. Paris couldn't help but feel he had seen the boy's face somewhere before.

"Plain," Paris instructed the computer. It stopped its listing.

Before the computer could reply, the boy said, "You're going to have to be more specific than that."

"Hot or chilled?" the computer asked. Sure enough the kid had been right.

Paris found that he did not like it when the boy was right. He scowled at the replicator. "Hot, plain, tomato soup!" It materialized before him and as he took the tray in his hands, he saw the Doctor and First Officer get up to leave. But as he tried to move, he found that the boy was still standing there looking at him. "Can I help you with something?" he asked, stiffly.

"Mama says you're from jail," the child quipped.

"That's right," Paris said with a huff. "Who's your mother kid?"

"Captain Janeway," the boy replied.

Paris raised his eyebrows. No one wonder the kid had looked familiar to him; he was a spitting image of Janeway. Paris had not even been aware that the Captain had a child on board. Guess I should have paid more attention to the gossip that wasn't about Sarah Barrett, he thought, as he tried to move away to go have a seat with Harry, but the kid just would not move. "Is there something else?" he asked, exasperated.

"You worked for the Maquis," Michael stated.

"Yeah, not for long though."

"Mama says you got caught, that's why you were in jail," the boy said.

Is there anything that Janeway has not told her kid about? Paris thought suddenly, with a little bit of anger. Apparently nothing was going to be sacred on this trip; even a child knew about his past. "Yeah, I worked for the Maquis," he said, bitterly. "And got caught; now can I go eat my soup?"

"Sure, but you're not going to like it," the kid countered. "The replicator's food is awful."

"Then why are you down here?" Paris couldn't help but snap.

"Ava wanted chocolate milk."

"You couldn't have gotten that in your quarters?" Paris questioned, wondering who Ava was. Did the Captain have more children that he wasn't aware of?

"Well…" the boy began to say as Cavit stepped up.

"Michael you've wasted enough of Mister Paris' time," he said. "Move along now; your mother made it clear that you're to stay in your quarters, unless you're with her."

The child scampered away. Cavit just gave Paris a stern look before he too left the mess hall. Tom was finally able to go and have a seat with Harry. He set his tray down across from the young ensign who was looking at him sternly. He immediately knew what had transpired. It was only a matter of time before someone told the young Harry what Tom had done. "There you see, I told you it wouldn't take long," he said, sitting down.

"Is it true?" Harry asked.

"Was the accident my fault? Yes. Pilot error, but it took me a while to admit it." He took a bite of his soup and found that Michael Janeway had been right; it was awful. He pushed the tray away from him. "Ugh, fourteen varieties and they can't even get plain tomato soup right."

Harry ignored him. "They said you falsified reports."

"That's right."

"Why?"

"What's the difference?" Tom asked. "I lied."

Harry frowned at him. "But then you came forward and admitted it was your fault."

Tom straightened slightly. "I'll tell you the truth Harry. All I had to do was keep my mouth shut and I was home free. But I couldn't," he looked at Harry mockingly. "The ghost of those three dead officers came to me in the middle of the night and taught me the true meaning of Christmas."

Harry rolled his eyes at the sarcastic remark.

Tom looked down at the table for a moment, thinking of what to say next. "So I confessed. Worst mistake I ever made, but not my last. After they cashiered me out of Starfleet I went out looking for a fight and found the Maquis. And on my first assignment I was caught."

"It must have been especially tough for you being the son of an admiral," Harry replied.

Tom looked angry. "Frankly I think it was tougher on my father than it was on me." He picked his tray up and began to leave, looking down at Harry. "Look I know those guys told you to stay away from me, and you know what? You ought to listen to them. I'm not exactly a good luck charm." He started to walk away again but Harry turned around to look at him with a slight smile on his face.

"I don't need anyone to chose my friends for me," he informed Tom.

"Janeway to Paris," the Captain's voice came over the comm.

"Go ahead," Paris said.

"Report to the bridge. We're approaching the Badlands."

When Kim and Paris entered the bridge, Janeway was the one to inform them that they had approximated the Maquis' course. The two young men exchanged glances before Harry went to his station to take over. Janeway went around the tactical station and down the steps to sit in her seat; Cavit was instructing Stadi to adjust their course to the new coordinates.

Sarah Barrett was seated next to Janeway's chair, a PADD in her hand. Her deep blue eyes were running over the report, but Tom knew she was watching him. He had called her service record up after meeting her in the ready room. She was a lot like him in certain senses, the child of an Admiral, spent some time in prison for dereliction of duty and drug rehab afterwards. Janeway had probably asked her to come on board for her expertise in terrorists, not for her counseling skills. Although, he didn't doubt she knew what she was doing, since she had been one of the first people in Starfleet to issue a report on the psychological mind of the Borg Collective. If she could break down the Borg, she could break down a simple human.

"The Cardassians claim that they forced the Maquis ship into a plasma storm where it was destroyed," Janeway was informing Paris, who was following behind her to the command station. Her voice brought him out of his intense thoughts on Barrett. "But our probes haven't picked up any debris."

"The plasma storm might not leave any debris," Paris offered.

Janeway looked at him thoughtfully from her chair. "We'd still be able to pick a residence trace from the warp core." She faintly heard a warning beep going off at the ops station.

"Captain," Kim said, studying his controls. "I'm reading a coherent tetryon beam scanning us."

Janeway looked up at him. "Origin Mister Kim?"

Kim shook his head, typing at his controls. "I'm not sure, there's also a displacement wave moving towards us."

"On screen," Janeway ordered, turning to look at the view screen. The Badlands came into view, but with an energy wave spanning the pink clouds, quickly approaching her ship. She felt a lump forming in her throat.

"That's no plasma storm," Barrett bluntly stated, anxiety laced in her voice.

"Analysis," Janeway ordered Kim, feeling her own anxiety growing.

"Some kind of polarized magnetic variation," Kim answered her.

"We might be able to disperse it with a graviton particle field," Cavit suggested from his position behind Stadi.

"Do it," Janeway ordered him. He moved away from the conn and quickly moved to tactical. "Red alert," Janeway said, standing up, Paris behind her. The lights on the bridge dimmed as the alarm sounded, flooding the cabin in a red glow. "Move us away from it Lieutenant," she ordered Stadi.

Stadi quickly complied. "New heading four one mark one zero eight," the Betazoid announced.

The ship lurched to its new course trying to outrun the displacement wave.

"Initiating graviton field," Cavit announced from tactical.

Janeway watched on the screen as the graviton field was dispersed into the displacement wave. A warning blare from Ops told her what she needed to know before Kim announced that the field had no effect. The wave was still moving towards them. "Full impulse," she told Stadi. However faster they seemed to go, the wave seemed to match. She felt her heart quicken. The wave had the potential to tear her ship apart, killing her crew along with herself and her children. I should have listened to my mother! My children are going to die because of my selfishness!

"The wave will intercept us in twelve seconds," Kim announced. It sounded like a death sentence to Janeway's ears.

"Can we go to warp," she asked, anxiously.

"Not until we clear the plasma field, Captain," Stadi replied, nervously looking up at the view screen at the fast approaching displacement wave.

"Five seconds!"

"Brace for impact!" Janeway ordered turning about to find her chair as a bright light engulfed the bridge. She was just getting there when there was a flash of white light and the ship was thrown about violently. She grabbed a hold of whatever she could but it was no use. The power of the wave hitting the ship forced her hands to lose their grip on the arms of her chair that she was clinging too and she was slammed onto the deck, where for a few brief seconds everything went black.

When she came too she managed to crawl up on her knees. There was smoke in the cabin, mangled pieces of pipes hanging down from the ceiling, and sparks emitting from broken power lines and conduits. The lights were low. Glancing about she noticed her First Officer lying on his back near the conn station. Janeway pushed her self up onto her knees and crawled towards the injured Cavit. He had been trying to get back to his chair as well when the wave hit. Hair in her face, she placed a hand to Cavit's neck to find a pulse but there was none. Taking the dead officer's hand in her own she closed her eyes briefly and said a silent prayer.

"Report!" she yelled over her shoulder to a hopefully unharmed Harry Kim.

Kim had been thrown from his station but was not hurt. He quickly rushed over to his beeping controls. "Hull breach, deck fourteen. comm lines to Engineering are down. I'm trying to reestablish," Kim announced.

Janeway got to her feet and went to the nearest station, moving Paris out of the way by gently touching his arm. "Repair crews seal off hull breach on deck fourteen," she ordered, accessing the computer to hopefully locate her children. Oh please, don't let them be hurt, she prayed to herself. She heard an "Aye captain," come over the comm. line but she was not sure who it was. Her mind was in a state of flux; she had to find the children.

"Casualty reports coming in," tactical said. "Sickbay is not responding."

"Bridge to sickbay," Janeway called. There was no answer. "Doctor, can you hear me?" she asked, glancing to her left. She noticed Paris at her feet, leaning over an injured Stadi. The young woman's dark eyes were frozen open in pain and horror; blood covered her face and uniform. "Paris how's Stadi?" she asked, fearing the answer.

"She's dead," Paris answered, softly making eye contact with the Captain. The older woman looked away from him. He moved about on the floor trying to gain his bearings. That's when he saw Barrett, laying on back at the foot of her chair. She had a gash running down the length of her face and from where he was situated it appeared that she was not breathing. He crawled towards her and checked for a pulse. It was fairly strong and she was breathing. He guessed that the blow to the head had knocked her out and she had a concussion.

Pulling out his tricorder he hoped that he could get some form of readings on her even if the instrument he was holding in his hand wasn't a medical tricorder. The tiny device managed to give him her vitals but other than that, he wasn't sure the extent of her injuries.

Barrett groaned and her eyes opened slightly to look at him. "Paris?" she whispered.

"Hold on," he told her, putting the tricorder away. "You have a nasty cut on your head, maybe even a concussion and it looks like you took a pretty good tumble out of your seat there. You should lay here until we can get you to sickbay."

"Help me up," she instructed him.

"Counselor, you really shouldn't move until a crew can take you to sickbay."

She reached out and grabbed a hold of his upper arm and used it to force her self up into a sitting position. "Damn it, Paris, I'm fine! Now help me up! That's an order!"

He hated how she had pulled the rank on him to get what she wanted but did as he was told, stating, "I don't think your in much a position to be ordering me around, but have it your way." She made it to her feet, but not without a few wobbles before she could gain her own bearings. Immediately she went to help the others. Like a true Starfleet officer, Paris observed going to stand besides Janeway who was furiously running her fingers over the conn.

"Is the main computer up?" Janeway was yelling at tactical. She had a frayed tone to her voice and Paris immediately thought of the little boy in the mess hall. The woman was trying to find her kids. He came to stand besides her and began using the controls, while Rollins replied that the main computer was off line.

Of course, it would be too easy to ask the computer where the kids were, Tom thought as he accessed the internal sensors. It would be easy enough to refine them to search for two human children, since they were the only youths on the ship; it was just going to take a little bit longer than asking the computer.

Janeway was growing increasingly more frustrated. All she wanted to do at that moment was locate her children but everyone yelling different reports at her kept her from doing what she desired. It was making her mind go in what felt like five thousand directions. She wasn't sure what problem she should focus on first; there were just so many of them she didn't know where to start.

"Captain, there's something out there," Kim announced.

She rolled her eyes. "I need a better description than that Mister Kim."

"I don't know… I'm reading," he paused, "I'm not sure what I'm reading."

Janeway felt helpless, confused. The wave should have ripped the ship apart in the Badlands but somehow it was here, all in one piece, mostly. It was something that she was going to have to figure out later. Right now, they had more pressing matters. She opened her mouth to say something to Kim when Paris whispered, "The kids are okay, they're in your quarters, and life signs are strong."

She looked at him gratefully and silently acknowledged him. "Can you get the view screen operational?" she asked Kim.

"I'm trying," Kim responded. Suddenly the static on the view screen disappeared to show a massive array with several arms in the middle of space. It was dispersing a pulse of energy every few seconds that shot out into the distance of space. Janeway or anyone on the bridge for that matter had not seen anything like it ever and it was mesmerizing. What is going on? Janeway thought. There were no reports of a space station anywhere near the Badlands. She heard another beeping noise from the operations station.

"Captain if these sensors are working. We're over 70,000 light years from where we were. We're on the other side of the galaxy," Kim announced.

Paris glanced at Janeway whose eyes were locked on the array. This is not what I had bargained for, he thought.

"Captain, the Maquis ship is out there, but I'm not reading any life signs," Kim reported.

Janeway stepped around a crew taking Stadi's body off of the bridge. "What about on that…that array?" she questioned stepping up to Kim's station. She glanced over her shoulder at the alien array. A few minutes ago they had been in the Badlands and now her new operations officer was telling her that her ship had been hurled across the galaxy, over seventy thousand light years from home. This isn't how she had envisioned the mission to retrieve the Maquis to go. Then again, she reasoned, nothing every seemed to go right when you were a Starfleet officer. It was just a part of the job.

"Our sensors can't penetrate it," Kim's voice cut through her thoughts.

"Any idea what those pulses are coming from it Mister Kim?"

"Massive burst of radon energy. They seemed to be directed towards a nearby G-type star system."

"Try hailing the array," Janeway said, making her way up to the command station. There was a comm. signal as she did so.

"Engineering to bridge. We have severe damage. The Chief's dead. Possibility of a warp core breach."

Janeway took a deep breath before turning about. "Secure all engineering systems! I'm on my way." As she passed by Kim he looked at her gravely.

"No response from the array," he told her.

"Ensign, get down to sickbay. See what's going on," Janeway ordered Kim, she looked over at tactical. "Sarah the bridge is yours," she said disappearing into the turbo lift.

Paris turned about to see Kim get into another turbo lift. He sprinted towards the lift, calling, "Harry, wait for me." He grabbed a hold of Sarah's arm, who had been helping Rollins. "Come on Counselor, time to get fixed up, and I won't take no for an answer. You're not going to be able to pull rank on me this time."

"But," Sarah sputtered, "Captain Janeway left me in charge of the bridge."

"And you're not fit to command right now."

His grip was too tight for her to attempt to break free. As he yanked her into the turbo lift she managed to yell out, "Mister Rollins you have the bridge!" She was just going to have to go unwillingly with Paris, throbbing head and all.

#janeway x chakotay #star trek voyager fanfiction #star trek voyager #kathryn janeway #chakotay #tom paris #sarah barrett (oc)#harry kim #b'elanna torres #kes #neelix #the doctor (emh)#tom paris x ofc

6 notes · View notes

summahsunlight · 5 years

Text

This Way Became My Journey, CH.1

Word Count: 3535

Pairings: Janeway/Chakotay, Tom/OFC

Characters: Kathryn Janeway, Chakotay, Tom Paris, Sarah Barrett (OC), Harry Kim, B’Elanna Torres, Tuvok, Kes, Neelix, the Doctor

Lowering her body with a heavy sigh, Captain Kathryn Janeway propped her feet up on the coffee table in the living room of her posh San Francisco apartment. It was quiet now, since her dog Molly had been sent to the kennel. She found that she missed that auburn ball of fur more than anything at that moment.

It had been a long day, securing everything before her next assignment. Between packing up some personal belongings and transporting back and forth to New Zealand, Kathryn found she was drained. This was her first deep space assignment in nearly two years. She had forgotten how much work went into the preparation for such an assignment not to mention the strings she had to pull to get a few extra things she believed she needed on this mission. Asking the Admiralty for a few favors was never an easy thing.

There was a knock on the door. For a moment she didn't respond, used to the chime of a starship. "Come in," she called out.

The large glass doors swung upon and she watched as Gabriel Dawson, a friend from her Academy days stepped down the marble steps towards her. "I thought you would be halfway to Deep Space Nine right now. Seeing you after you got that commission, I swore you were going to move in on Voyager immediately."

Kathryn laughed and gestured around her apartment. "I had a few things to clean up here first. Besides, I don't think Starfleet was quite ready for me to sit in that Captain's chair just yet."

Gabriel sat down on the sofa with her. "They're making the right decision. If anyone can track down the Maquis, it's Kathryn Janeway."

She chuckled. "Thanks for your vote in confidence in me; I'll note it in my log." Her face grew serious. "What brings you down here?"

"Just checking up on you," Gabriel said, his look matching hers. "This is your first deep space assignment since… the massacre at Ohniaka III."

The lighthearted mood that she had enjoyed was soon squelched at his mentioning of Ohniaka III. Images of the science station that had once been there flashed through her mind; images of its destruction as it was seen on the news vids, images of a long lost love.

Kathryn turned her blue eyes away from Gabriel. She tried not to think of his brother, Bryan Dawson, who had been a scientist at the outpost when it was attacked by the Borg. Thinking of Bryan brought such a strong urge to scream and cry that she very often found her self trying not to think about him. He had, after all, been her husband of four years when he had been killed along with all his colleagues. "I was holding up just fine until you said that."

"I'm sorry Kathryn," Gabriel said. "But you were my friend long before you were my sister in law. Can I help it if I still worry about you?"

She looked at him with sad eyes. Yes, it was true, he had been her friend; he had been the one to introduce Bryan and Kathryn a year or so after her father had died. Bryan had been a life savior, showing her that there was life after the loss of a loved one, but his death, at the hands of a ruthless enemy, had left a bitter taste in her mouth for so long. "I appreciate your checking up on me, but really I'm fine," Kathryn said, going to the food replicator to get a cup of coffee.

"Are you really? I spoke to your mother, she told me you had a hard time parting with the children," Gabriel replied, his eyes studying the back of her uniform. He saw her shoulders stiffen at the mentioning of her children. "I figured there would be some separation anxiety on their part, but yours Kathryn?"

She bit her lip before taking a sip of coffee. "It's my first time away from Ava for more than a week."

Gabriel pondered what she said for a moment. Kathryn had been devastated when his brother was killed. She had taken their son, Michael, on some trek across Earth, stopping in places like Paris, New York, the Bahamas. And then suddenly she cut the leave time that Starfleet had granted her short, dropped Michael off to her mother, and returned to the Billings. Unbeknownst to any of them at the time she had found out she was pregnant with Ava. Whether she was in denial or not, she refused to tell anyone, she had kept working, hard, to the point where it ended her up at Starfleet Medical with pregnancy complications. All her assignments after the baby's birth had been local, only assignments that stretched the span of a week. Being given command of her own ship, that had been something she had wanted for a long time, and he knew she had eagerly taken the Voyagercommission. "Ava will adjust. Children are resilient, Kathryn, much more than adults."

Kathryn looked at him. "I know. I'm afraid of her adjusting a little too much," the new Captain whispered. "Being given a command like this means I won't be going on short little missions; Voyager is a deep space vessel. How much am I going to get to see of her now that I have a highly advanced, deep space vessel in my command?"

"I thought you had talked to Admiral Patterson?" Gabriel questioned. "Didn't he approve of accommodations for the kids on the ship himself?"

"Yes, he single-handedly went to bat for me," Kathryn replied. "The Council wasn't too keen on my request, the building of the new rooms set back the launch date three weeks. But what else am I supposed to do? I'm a single parent with a job that takes me away far too often. I want to be able to see my children."

"You could get a post at Command," Gabriel said. "You'd make a great instructor at the Academy."

She smiled wistfully. "You know me Gabe; I'm not an office girl."

He returned the smile. "I know, I had to try, and I also know that Bryan didn't want you to give up your career to become a house wife. Why do you think he let you keep your name?"

"The name stayed because the clerk in Bloomington didn't know what she was doing," Kathryn replied her eyes narrowing a bit. "Instead of putting Janeway-Dawson as my new name, she put Dawson-Janeway as Bryan's." The memory played out in her mind. She had been so mad. And they had always meant to go back and fix it after they were married, however, Michael had been born, Wolf 359 had happened, and her assignment to the Billings. They never found the time to go back. We never found the time for a lot of things, Bryan, Kathryn thought sadly.

"How did New Zealand go?" Gabriel was asking her, trying to get her mind off of her late husband.

"It went," she said with a chuckle. "Tom Paris is as cocky and arrogant as his service record indicates. But, he's the only one in Starfleet who can help us track the Maquis."

"You're taking a big risk on him," Gabriel said. "He's a convicted traitor of the Federation."

"I've been told I'm taking a lot of risks on this assignment," Kathryn retorted.

"Lieutenant Barrett?"

"Yes, how did you know?"

"I was her council at her hearing, remember?" Gabriel said. He shook his head, remembering the burnt out, broken young woman who he had defended in a court martial for dereliction of duty. "Starfleet came down too hard on her, trying her like that. What she needed was the rehab not the brig time."

Kathryn set her cup down on the coffee table. "You got her that rehab time, Gabe. You opened the door for someone like me to take a risk on her. Besides, my father worked with hers. He was a good officer. I think Jason Barrett's daughter deserves a second chance, don't you?"

"You know I do, but she's only been out, what six months?"

"Yes, your point?"

"She could relapse."

Kathryn scoffed. "Not on my shift."

Good damn it Kathryn, why are you so stubborn! The Captain's personal computer was beeping, indicating an incoming message. She rose from the sofa and went to turn the console on. It was resting on a small end table towards the back of the living room. From his seat he could see an image of Gretchen Janeway appear, she looked hassled, in the background a baby was crying, it was Ava.

"Mom?" Kathryn asked concerned. She could hear her baby screaming in the background and it was breaking her heart that she couldn't be there to comfort the child.

"Katie," Gretchen breathed. "I think you need to meet me at the transporter station. Ava's got an ear infection."

"A what?"

"An ear infection. I can't get her to calm down, she's been screaming for you for hours, and no matter how much pain reliever I give her, it doesn't help. She needs to see her doctor, Katie," Gretchen replied. "We could be there in ten minutes, as long as you meet us at the station. I can't very well traipse through San Francisco with a screaming baby, now can I?"

Kathryn closed her eyes. She was due to leave in two hours for Deep Space Nine. There was no way she was going to get an appointment with the children's doctor now. Making a split second decision, that she was sure she would regret at some point later down the road, she told her mother to pack bags for the kids; they were coming with her on Voyager.

"Welcome aboard Voyager, Lieutenant Barrett."

Sarah Barrett noticed a middle aged man in command reds standing at the base of the transporter pad. Reaching back into her mind to place him from all the personnel files that she had shuffled through the past few days, she offered him her hand. "Commander Cavit, it's nice to meet you sir." God, I hope I'm right about who this is, she thought as the man took her hand and shook it.

"Likewise, Lieutenant," Cavit said to her, in a professional tone. He released her hand and gestured for her to follow. "Captain Janeway sends her regrets, but will not be able to meet with you until later. She is…busy tending to other things."

The tone of his voice suggested that he wasn't happy about what these other things were. "That's alright, sir. I can meet with her at her earliest convenience. Actually, Starfleet Command wanted me to meet with you as well, regarding our observer."

"Oh yes, him," Cavit scoffed, pressing a button to open the turbo lift's doors. The two officers stepped inside and she waited for him to say something more, but he didn't. He looked mutely ahead while the lift ascended. An awkward silence passed between them.

She decided to break the ice. "I know what the feelings are regarding Mister Paris. Starfleet command just wanted me to make sure that everyone on this ship is willing to put those feelings aside to get the job done."

Cavit glared at her. "Miss Barrett, I can assure you that this crew is not going to let their feelings for a convicted felon get in the way of their duties."

She cocked an eyebrow. "Are you?"

"Computer halt turbo lift," Cavit ordered. The lift came to a halt and he turned to fully face her. "I'm aware of your history Lieutenant. You have some nerve questioning me when it comes to duty."

Sarah knew when she had pushed too many buttons. "I'm sorry sir. You're right. If this crew is any reflection of Captain Janeway, she would insist that her crew treats Mister Paris with respect, there fore not allowing him to interfere with their duties."

He set his jaw and ordered the computer to resume. The lift started to move again and they rode the rest of the way to the deck where her office was stationed in tense silence. When they got to the office she noticed that he had been carrying a couple of PADDs in his hand. She was surprised when he handed them to her. "These are additions to the crew roster. I suggest that you look them over briefly and then report to the Bridge. We'll be leaving in a couple of hours."

Sarah scanned the PADDs and realized that the new additions to the roster were children, the Captain's children. "Kids? Starfleet is letting kids on this mission?" This wasn't a Galaxy class starship; there were no accommodations for children. Why would Starfleet ever let kids on this ship?

"Apparently Captain Janeway has a few supporters at Command. Apparently Admiral Patterson approved of it himself," Cavit replied. "Believe me, Counselor, I'm not any more thrilled than you are about this, but it's not my place to question Captain Janeway… on her parenting skills."

"I'm not questioning it either, but as far as I'm aware, Kathryn Janeway has never taken her kids on any mission with her," Sarah said, recalling information from the Captain's personnel file. "Why the sudden change of heart, sir?"

Cavit's reply was curt. "I don't know."

Sarah's eyes fell on the reports again, reading bits and pieces. The children's lives hadn't been easy to say the least, shuffled between their mother's apartment in San Francisco and their grandmother's home in Indiana. Before that even, the oldest, a boy, had lived with his father on some science station. Maybe Kathryn Janeway was tried of the shuffling or maybe it was just another commanding officer using their influence to get their family on board their ship. Sarah's father had done the same, when he was the Captain of the Alaska. Who said being of higher rank didn't have their perks?

She had hated every minute of living on that ship. Being told that Janeway's children would be making the trip brought back old memories of lying around crew quarters bored out of her mind as a child. "I don't suppose more kids are coming on board, sir? After all, someone else must want their children with them besides the Captain."

"Your displeasure of the situation will be duly noted in my log, Lieutenant," Cavit replied, ignoring her sarcastic tone, and turning about. "I'll see you on the Bridge."

Sarah disappeared inside of her office, dropping her travel bag. It landed on the floor with a thud. She dropped the PADDs Cavit had given her onto the glass desk and went to look out the window. Taking a deep calming breath she was glad that it had been Cavit to inform her of the children and not Janeway. She was certain the Captain would not have taken kindly to her…reactions. Maybe there was some circumstance that Kathryn Janeway was forced to take the children with her. Their grandmother was sick and she had no last minute child care, they were dropping the children off along the way to stay with family; she had let her temper get the best of her without knowing all the facts.

And besides this was only a three week trip. If they were staying on the ship the whole time the children could be sent back to their grandmother when they returned to Earth. Better to find out the whole story before jumping to conclusions Barrett, she chided her self. If she was lucky she'd get that whole story when she met with the Captain later.

Which reminded her, she had to catch up on Tom Paris'. Reaching for her bag, she pulled the zipper open. Inside where a few uniforms and what seemed like hundreds of thousands of PADDs, it however, did not take her long to find the one she was looking for. She had placed his on top.

Settling down onto the sofa, she scrolled through the report. Their observer certainly was an interesting read. His history was not that different from her own; child of an Admiral, attended the Academy and had been involved in a controversial incident. Here the history veered differently from her course. He had been ushered out of Starfleet, due to his cover up and joined the Maquis. She wondered briefly if she hadn't been so forth coming with her drug addiction if they would have ushered her out of Starfleet as well.

Tossing the PADD down she left that thought for another day and another time. She had to report to the Bridge and prove to Cavit and who ever else doubted her abilities, that she was capable. It was time to start all over again.

"Master Thomas, we weren't expecting you."

"Don't worry Nadia," Thomas Eugene Paris commented as he stepped into his parents' home for the first time in years. "I wasn't expecting me either. Is my father home?"

The hall was just as he remembered it; his mother hadn't changed it in years. An oil painting of the Paris' family still hung on the wall; his father dressed in a crisp, Starfleet uniform, his mother an elegant dress of red. Tom was eight at the time the portrait was made; he was wearing a dress suit, standing behind his sitting mother, a hand draped over her shoulder. His sisters were seated on the floor in front. Tom had spent countless hours staring at that portrait as a child, wondering how the painter had captured a happy family when really it was a suffocating atmosphere, at least for Tom. He could never live up to his father's expectations.

Nadia, their housekeeper for years, looked anxious. "No, no, he's at Command. He won't be home until late."

Tom shoved his hands into his pockets. He hadn't come to see his father anyways, he'd come to see his mother. After being cashiered out of Starfleet he'd cut ties with his mother and his sisters. He'd been ashamed of what he'd done but too proud to admit he was ashamed. "I actually came to see my mother. Is she here?"

"Oh yes, Miss Erin is home," Nadia replied, closing the front doors and ushering Tom into the drawing room, his mother's favorite place to entertain. "I'll go get her."

He was left alone the large drawing room, standing amongst his mother's treasured antique furniture. As a child he hadn't been allowed in this room because of all the valuables; his parents thought his rough and tumble ways would surely break something. Which, now that he thought about, would probably have come true if he'd been allowed in here. Now that he was in the room he realized it wasn't such an extraordinary room after all. In the mind of a nine year old, because it was off limits it was, but really it was a space filled with useless, delicate, old furniture and art.

Tom crossed his arms over his chest and his fingers impacted with the combadge that had been issued to him prior to catching his transport to Deep Space Nine. He wasn't used to wearing a Starfleet uniform, hell he never thought he'd been in one again. Captain Kathryn Janeway had insisted on the uniform and badge, yet she wouldn't let him fly the ship. Tom had to admit that Janeway was attractive in a sort of authoritative way.

"Thomas, what are you doing here? If your father knew you'd stopped by," Erin Paris said as she entered the room.

Tom turned to smile half-heartedly at his mother. "I won't be here long Mom."

"What are you doing in that uniform? Did they let you back into Starfleet?" Erin inquired, straightening his collar.

"I'm doing the Federation a favor. They need me to track down the Maquis."

"Oh, them," Erin huffed. "Haven't they caused you enough trouble?"

"Mom, I got myself into trouble."

"If your father hadn't pushed you in the first place—"

"Mom," Tom interrupted, "I didn't come here to listen to you blame Dad for my mistakes. I came here to tell you that once I get back from this mission I'm taking the first transport out of the Federation. There are plenty of independent traders out there that could use good pilots."

Erin looked horrified. "What about the rest of your sentence?"

"Captain Janeway promised she'd help me at my parole hearing at the end of the month. If I find Chakotay, I get the hell out of that prison," Tom snapped.

"Thomas, you can't be serious about this, leaving Earth, permanently?" Erin gasped.

"I am."

"But...that's ridiculous."

Tom felt drained and he'd only been there for fifteen minutes. "You know something, Mom, I don't know why I came," he breathed, turning about and leaving the room. He had a transport to catch. Swinging the front door open with a dramatic pull he turned slightly to face her. "Tell Dad I said hello and good-bye; I'll be in touch." And with that he slammed the door in her face and hurried down the driveway, making his way for the transport station. He didn't even look back once.

#star trek voyager #star trek voyager fanfiction #kathryn janeway #chakotay #tom paris #sarah barrett (oc)#harry kim #b'elanna torres #kes #neelix #the doctor (emh)#janeway x chakotay #tom paris x ofc #originally written in 2008

5 notes · View notes

delwin47 · 7 years

Text

Fanfic (ST:Voy), Reckonings

One more early Voyager fic from me -- Happy Voyager Anniversary, everyone and thank you to @alphaflyer @rikerssexblouse and @pg1890 for joining the fun!

Summary: Voyager's first three days stuck in the Delta Quadrant: two crews, one ship and, of course, Tom Paris.

Originally posted on FFN and AO3

Reckonings

Stardate 48321.46: 12 hours after the destruction of the Caretaker's array...

He might as well paint a giant red X on his back.

After all, an X, no matter how large and how red, couldn't possibly be as conspicuous as the uniform in his hands.

Starfleet command red. The Paris legacy. And now the unmistakeable sign of Tom Paris's treachery to the three dozen or so Maquis with whom he will apparently be sharing Voyager's fifteen decks for the immediate future.

Sliding the silky material through his fingers, Tom's expression twists into a humorless grin.

He's so very screwed.

Mustn't forget to add to those Maquis a crew of over a hundred Starfleet personnel all of whom think that he is the worst sort of disgrace to that same uniform...

...except the Captain.

The captain who put him back behind the helm of a starship.

Tom's fingers twitch as he mentally runs through the series of banks and turns, twists and dives that he guided Voyager through as they battled the Kazon less than twelve hours before. Whoever developed that bio-neural circuitry knew their stuff: Voyager responded to his commands like no other Starfleet ship he'd ever piloted.

And her captain evidently makes command decisions like no other captain Tom has ever encountered – and he's known a few. Who but Kathryn Janeway would hand over her ship to a paroled convict with a more than checkered service record?

Tom shakes his head in bemusement as he pulls on first the uniform pants and then the shirt. At least he'll provide a subject upon which Voyager's crew and their Maquis...guests? passengers? prisoners? can agree – everyone (except the Captain) hates Thomas Eugene Paris.

As he pins the communicator to his shirt, it promptly chirps to life :Kim to Paris:

"Paris here," Tom responds. "What can I do for you, Harry?" And he can't help smiling to himself: make that 'except the Captain and Ensign Harry Kim'.

:Do you have an hour or so? I'm in the middle of trying to figure out how to adapt the navigational systems to our...current coordinates and I could use a second pair of eyes:

All crises having passed for the moment, Tom has nothing if not time. Answering Harry in the affirmative, he slips on his boots, does a quick check in the mirror (the empty gray collar still pulls his attention like the gap from a missing tooth) and heads out the door – eyes straight ahead, mouth firmly and wisely set shut.

As it turns out, the corridors of Voyager are next to empty. Tom passes two or three of the Voyager crew but not a single Maquis. Come to think of it, he isn't sure what happened to Chakotay, Torres and the others once Janeway cleared her bridge – he and Harry were busy trying to find a relatively safe section of space into which to move Voyager. Are the Maquis now confined to quarters? Or the brig?

Having spent more than his fair share of time in starship brigs, Tom feels a brief flash of sympathy for the possible fate of the Val Jean's crew, but mostly he's glad to be spared becoming walking target practice, at least for the moment. When the doors of his destination slide open, he exhales heavily.

"Tom!" Harry turns to greet him, pausing in his work at the sole terminal in the room to do so. "Thanks for coming down."

"No problem." Tom glances around the gridded room appreciatively. "They made them bigger."

Harry follows his gaze and frowns. "The holodecks?"

Tom nods, estimating. "It looks like they increased both the area and the height. That gives some interesting extra potential for programs with multiple participants."

"Are you a holo-programmer?" Harry sounds surprised.

Tom considers that as he walks to join the younger man at the terminal. "Only as a hobby," he clarifies. "And 'was', not 'am'. I haven't been in a holodeck or holosuite since...for a couple of years."

Harry glances over, obviously trying to decide which tack to take in navigating the hazardous topic of Tom's recent history. "Well, now you are," he tries with only somewhat forced cheer. Then, with a grimace, "And we're all certainly going to need some new entertainment over the next seventy years so you'd better brush off those programming skills."

There are any number of questionable assumptions built into Harry's comment, but Tom chooses to address one of the less personal ones. "Given the circumstances, Harry, I'm pretty sure Janeway's not likely to authorize the use of energy for holodeck entertainment."

Harry shrugs. "The holodecks are on a separate grid from the rest of the ship. Their energy is incompatible with the main systems." He turns back to the computer. "That's actually why I'm working down here: it's more energy efficient to run simulations through the holodecks than through the main computer."

Despite everything, Tom chuckles. "So we may all starve out here, but even unofficial crew might be able to score holodeck privileges? Hell, maybe I'll invite Chakotay and his gang down to play some Velocity."

"Now that may be more difficult."

Which is interesting in itself, but even more interesting is the tone in which Harry drops his hint – the tone of someone with a nugget of information that he is all too eager to share. The straight-as-an-arrow Ensign Harry Kim is, Tom surmises, a first rate gossip hound.

Given that this particular nugget is one in which he has a personal interest, Tom has no problem biting. "And why is that?"

As expected, Kim pauses in his work and gives Tom his full attention. "Well, according to B'Elanna..."

"When were you talking to Torres?" No, not 'Torres'. 'B'Elanna'. When had that happened?

"The Captain ordered us both back down to Sickbay so that the Emergency Medical Hologram could make sure that virus or whatever it was that the Caretaker put into our systems was completely cleared out," Harry explains offhandedly, clearly impatient to get back to his point. "Anyway, B'Elanna said that all of the Maquis had been packed into various crew quarters and confined there."

Which is good news for Tom as evidently the lack of Maquis roaming the corridors this morning wasn't just a coincidence. But he finds himself backtracking through Harry's statement. "So are you okay? With the virus, I mean?"

Harry shrugs again, unconcerned. "Oh yeah. The EMH fixed that right up." Then he looks at Tom more directly. "By the way, I never did thank you for coming after me – or us – down there. We were in pretty bad shape before you found us. You probably saved our lives."

Tom scratches at the back of his neck. "You and Torres are both pretty stubborn. I'm sure you would have clawed your way out of there eventually."

Harry just grins. "So there's that, plus the Ferengi thing on DS9, not to mention your...help on the bridge yesterday – that's at least three I owe you, Paris."

The tone is light and casual: this is part of the script, the usual back-and-forth between crewmates who are used to putting their lives in each other's hands on a regular basis.

But it brings Tom up short. Because he and Harry are not, in fact, crewmates. And he disqualified himself from this sort of banter more than two years ago. Which no one seems to have any trouble remembering – except Harry.

Speaking of owing someone...

"Hey, Tom?" Harry glances over at him quizzically. "You okay?"

Tom blinks away his train of thought and turns back to his friend. "Yeah, Harry." Then he grins and briefly clasps the younger man's shoulder. "I'm fine." He turns his attention to the console. "Weren't you looking for my help with something?"

They spend the next hour working out how to compensate for the Delta Quadrant's lack of Federation navigational infrastructure until Harry is due to report back to the bridge. Once they part outside the holodeck, Tom begins to make his way back to his quarters, passing through still quiet and nearly empty corridors.

So at least he is running good there.

Stardate 48324.2: 36 hours after the destruction of the array...

So much for running good – though it was nice while it lasted.

Tom walks through the doors of the mess hall to find it – as expected – crawling with a dozen or so leather-clad Maquis.

An attempt to replicate breakfast in his quarters an hour earlier had been frustrated by an inactive replicator and a cheerful explanation from the computer that all meals were to be taken in the mess hall in order to maximize power conservation and centralize ration distribution. His brief musing on whether that would include the Maquis was answered by playing back an obviously hastily composed message from Harry which strongly suggested that Tom might want to wait until the ensign's shift break to head down to the mess hall for a meal.

Maquis included then.

Tom had taken a moment to wonder exactly how the negotiations on that one had gone down. Most likely Chakotay had pledged the good behavior of his crew – a pledge, no doubt, made in good faith and one that would be largely effective.

With the notable exception of behavior toward a certain ex-Maquis-turned-rat.

Having sent back a quick note declining Harry's well-intentioned but ultimately futile offer – Tom couldn't exactly hide behind the younger man for the next seventy years – Tom had made the decision to head directly into the line of fire.

His entrance immediately draws the attention of every person in the room, including the two Starfleet security officers who have clearly been stationed there to maintain order.

Neither of them looks exactly glad to see him.

Tom nods in their direction anyway but doesn't bother to wait for their acknowledgment. Feigning unconcern, he grabs a tray and makes his request of the replicator before moving to an open table where his back will be to the replicator and the door but he'll maintain a clear view of the full room and its occupants.

His attention ostensibly on his food, Tom takes a census of his fellow diners. Henley and Jonas occupy one table with two other Maquis whom he doesn't recognize. At the sight of him, Henley looks somewhat obscenely like a cat who's just been presented with an unexpected bowl of milk – or perhaps more accurately with a mouse with which to play. On the other side of the room, Chell's blue head glows as he whispers animatedly to the fellow Bolian seated across from him, his pointing finger and equally pointed gaze leaving little doubt as to the subject of his commentary. At a third table, Ken Dalby sits alone, tray pushed away. Slouched against the back of his chair, his arms are folded tightly to his chest and his calculating eyes are locked on Tom.

The other half dozen Maquis are unknown to Tom, evidently having joined Chakotay's crew after his own precipitous departure. But, based on the glares they are aiming in his direction, that's not affecting their ability to take Tom's betrayal personally.

Thirteen.

And all of them with very little left to lose.

A glance over at the gold-uniformed Starfleet officers confirms that help from that corner will be slow to arrive at best. Both men have subtly turned their shoulders, suggesting that it might well take an extra few seconds for them to notice any trouble starting in the direction of Voyager's observer.

And Tom well knows that a lot can happen in a few seconds.

He scans the room once more for potential sources of aid...like whom? Unless Harry cuts out in the middle of his bridge shift for a snack of ration bars... Chakotay, maybe? Tom did save the guy's life and, whatever else one might say about the man, one couldn't really doubt his sense of honor. Torres? An odd twist in his gut reminds him just how thoroughly he's burned that bridge.

"Tom Paris?"

He jumps violently at the soft voice. Little good it does keeping a view of the room before him if he misses the entrance of someone from behind. Twisting around, he identifies the voice's owner and hastily stands to cover the severity of his reaction. "That's me, yes." And then, regaining his composure, he adds, "It's Kes, right?"

The young woman nods, smiling and, despite the roomful of Maquis, Tom feels some of the tightness in his back and shoulders ease.

Motioning with the food tray in her hands, she asks, "May I join you?"

Tom nods, indicating the other chair and going so far as to pull it out for her. Kes sits, her back now to the room. Looking over her shoulder, Tom doesn't fail to notice that the security officers are once again on full alert: Tom Paris might be an easy victim to sacrifice but the elfin newcomer who has somewhat unwisely chosen to join him evidently is not.

Although, as Tom surveys the rest of the mess hall, the officers' renewed attention may be unneeded. The Maquis have turned back to their meals and the tension in the air has abated. He finds himself unsurprised that Kes seems to have called out the better angels of the freedom fighters' natures.

She might as well be an angel herself, with that air of innocence and kindness that seems to emanate from her. 'Unearthly' might be a fair descriptor and perhaps appropriate for a species that only lives nine years.

"I've been looking for the chance to thank you," Kes begins, interrupting his thoughts.

"To thank me?"

"For helping to rescue me." At what must be his somewhat blank look, she clarifies, "From Jabin."

"Ah." He has somehow almost forgotten about finding her beaten and half-starved in the Kazon encampment – had that only been two days ago? The holographic doctor did its work well and quickly in healing her. Not quite so innocent, then, and that kindness is more hard won than he was giving her credit for. "That wasn't our intent in going down to the surface," Tom explains honestly, then adds, "but I'm certainly happy to have helped."

Kes smiles warmly and, without thought, Tom smiles back. It's such an easy, natural interaction, without calculation. When did that become so unusual?

They both take a bite or two of their meals and Kes's gaze moves to the mess hall's expansive viewports. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" she comments, indicating the starscape outside those ports. "And it's so amazing to be traveling through open space like this."

Having spent far too much of the last year landlocked, Tom can agree with that sentiment wholeheartedly. "You've never been off-planet before, have you?"

"No." Kes's eyes are still on the stars. "Neelix told me stories – about his ship and all the different systems and planets – all the different species." She gives a self-deprecating shrug. "They seemed like fairy tales at the time."

"And now you're going to live that fairy tale," Tom points out to her. "You and Neelix can travel to all of those places."

"That's true," she agrees, taking another bite of food. "Still," and she looks back out at the stars, "I can't help but wonder what it would be like to see it all from this ship – to be a member of a starship crew." She turns back to him with another enchanting smile. "It must be a wonderful life."

Tom chokes a little on a bite of food that seems to have gotten caught in his throat. At the sound, Henley glances back in his direction, likely hoping to witness his untimely demise courtesy of a ration bar. Jonas says something to draw her attention back and she joins in her tablemates' laughter. To the side of the room, the two security officers are chatting quietly with each other. For the moment, Tom Paris is forgotten.

Which is about the best that he can hope for.

"Yeah," he agrees roughly. And his own eyes turn to the starscape. "It must be."

Stardate 48326.94: 60 hours after the destruction of the array...

Two quadrants away from Earth and San Francisco, but "Hurry up and wait" is still evidently the unofficial Starfleet motto for those lacking in rank insignia.

How many times during their first weeks at the Academy did Tom and his cohorts sprint in order to arrive at designated place X at appointed time Y only to spend the next half hour cooling their heels and waiting on someone higher up in the Starfleet pecking order?

Of course, at that point, 'someone' could have been just about anyone in uniform: it was pretty much impossible to get lower in the food chain than a freshly arrived Academy cadet.

Well, pretty much impossible unless you happened to be Thomas Eugene Paris. Seems like he's managed to accomplish that feat quite neatly.

Across the bridge at the tactical station, the lieutenant on duty – Andrews, maybe? – hasn't stopped glaring at him since Tom walked onto the bridge.

Perhaps 'rushed' more than 'walked'. Old habits die hard and one wouldn't want to be late when summoned by the captain of the ship to her ready room. Particularly when that captain put the helm of that ship in one's hands three days before. Even more particularly when one hasn't heard a word from that captain since finally, reluctantly turning that helm back over to someone whose gray collar wasn't bare.

Not that he blames her for the lack of communication. Right now Kathryn Janeway has bigger issues to deal with than the ex-Starfleet-lieutenant, ex-Maquis-pilot, current-convict-on-probation who happens to be an observer on her ship.

Like what to do with the three dozen not-so-ex Maquis who also happen to be residing on that ship.

Andrews hasn't let up his glower, and Tom begins to wonder if he's managed to do something to piss off the guy personally, beyond the usual 'cashiered out of Starfleet and convicted felon' stuff. Doesn't he have a station he's supposed to be monitoring anyway?

"Lieutenant?" comes Harry's voice from behind Tom at ops. "Could you confirm that the energy signature in grid forty seven is just a pocket of ambient radiation? My reading is unclear."

At which Andrews finally looks back down at his board. The corner of Tom's mouth twitches upward into something between a smirk and a grin, but he resists the urge to look back at Harry, instead mentally adding to his tally of what he owes the younger man.

Tom's actually been doing a good bit of mental calculating in the last couple of days – and not with good results. The inescapable conclusion of his ruminations has been that Voyager needs the Maquis. Without them, she simply will not have the manpower she needs to function sustainably, not to mention to begin a journey home.

And, if he's being honest, Tom knows that most of the Val Jean's crew are good people with talents that could serve Voyager well. Hell, Torres by herself would probably cut the length of the journey back to the Alpha Quadrant in half if given a crack at the engines. A captain would be foolish not to utilize those talents and foolish Kathryn Janeway is not.

Which is not good news for Tom Paris.

The Captain will not ask him to leave, he knows that. For one, he's his father's son, and secondly, it is by her request that Tom is on Voyager and in the Delta Quadrant to begin with. The combination of loyalty and slight guilt will ensure him a bunk and rations. But, if his existence is going to be limited to draining Voyager's resources and staying one step ahead of a Maquis lynch mob, he might as well still be in that penal colony in New Zealand.

From the conn, Culhane calls over to where Tuvok sits in the captain's chair: "Sir, I have the results of the navigational surveys that you asked me to run."

Without meaning to, Tom looks over at the ensign and Voyager's helm. Had it been for an hour, maybe two that he had occupied Culhane's seat?

The chance to fly again had been an unexpected and incredible gift; even more so had been the act of faith which had put him at the conn – the particular type of faith that a captain must have in her crew and that Tom thought he had forfeited forever.

Tom's eyes move again to the helm, so tantalizingly close.

Yet still absolutely out of his reach.

He may have raced like a new cadet to answer Janeway's summons, but the news awaiting him in the ready room can only be bad.

Despite that, he'll take the opportunity to thank her for giving him one more chance to fly a starship and to feel – if only for that short time – like a member of a crew again. For that, she has his endless gratitude.

The ready room door slides open, and Chakotay walks out, distracted and thoughtful. He glances Tom's way, but his look is without acknowledgment and inscrutable. He continues without pause to the turbolift and exits the bridge without a word.

Drawing on years of practice, Tom tries to school his own features back to impassivity as he steps up to the ready room door and sounds the chime. But, even though he refuses to glance back at the helm one more time, there is a tightness to his jaw that he can't ease as the door opens before him and he steps through.

Time to be cut loose again.

#star trek voyager #fanfic #delwin47 fanfic

11 notes · View notes