Note: This story will make much more sense if you read 'Reversal' first at s/12100941/1/Reversal.
Chapter 1 – Miss me?
Wonica's gaze is focusing everywhere but on me. "Captain," he utters with a loud cough.
His companion has his back to me. He staggers forward, then regains his balance and swivels to stand at attention. His eyes too avoid mine.
"At ease, crewmen," I say in what I hope sounds like my normal command voice.
"You want to inspect our work, Ma'am," O'Donnell says, hands clutched behind his back.
The mountains of muscles in front of me look like they've just seen their worst nightmare.
I put my hand up, glad to see it's not shaking. "This is not an inspection. Lt Torres told me you're still having a problem with the wastewater pump," I explain. "She said you think the ingress pipe is the trouble."
The two men have been ostracised by everyone since what I've come to call the Maquis experiment ended, only ten days ago. I can't order the rest of the crew to befriend them, but I want to ease their comeback into Voyager life for when they finally leave the protection of the brig.
They too are part of my crew. I simply can't let them suffer the consequences of what they did to me for the remainder of our long journey home. As to following Seska, let's say they are not the only ones who succumbed to her duplicity.
Wonica relaxes his stance, obviously reassured I am not a threat.
"Yes, Captain. We've rebuilt the isomagnetic pump, checked all the assembly lines and recalibrated the molecular extraction system. All is working perfectly, but the efficiency is way below what it should be."
He walks up to the diagnostics screen and brings up a graph showing the output percentage steadily decreasing over time.
"We think there is a blockage in the ingress pipe at the last bend. It's the only portion of the entire plant which is not easily accessible." He points to the reinforced ceiling above our heads.
"I see." Not really, but then I'm no expert in waste and recycling systems. "I trust your judgement. So, what's the plan?"
I'm glad the two men have put a lot of effort into what is – in reality – their punishment for being too eager to use their fists rather than their brains.
"Take the plant offline and pull the deck above to pieces so we can access the bend and replace the whole length of pipe. It's a big task because many of the ship's utilities run through the ceiling."
O'Donnell leans over my shoulder to show me the plant schematics and very nearly makes me jump. "We'll also have to realign the valves. Taking them offline for more than a day will muck up the compression rings. If not, we'll have another problem in six months' time, and frankly, we've just about had it with this place," he adds.
He straightens up. "Sorry, Captain. Not my place to say."
"I completely understand, O'Donnell. I am sure you don't want to be back here if you can avoid it."
I hold his gaze for a few seconds. He nods, curtly.
"I see why Lt Torres isn't too keen on dismantling the entire deck." I scrutinise the schematics, rotating the screen to see if there is a better access to the ceiling pipe.
Our reserves of water and food are dwindling fast, and while the recycler plant is not a vital part of the ship, without it we will use more energy to replicate those essential items. Dilithium is already at a premium as it's hardly a surprise that the maps Culluh gave Chakotay have proven less than reliable in finding good sources of ore.
But I can't leave this region of space without destroying what's on board Culluh's ship, so obtaining dilithium and food take second place to locating the Kazon-Nistrim. Like the two men in front of me, the Starfleet-designed torpedoes that Seska has secreted on board the Kazon ship are my responsibility. I just can't forsake them.
"There's a quicker solution," I say, enlarging the offending section on the screen with two fingers. "The internal diameter of the pipe looks about right, and the closest access valve is on the mezzanine floor, not far from the bend."
I take my uniform jacket off. Wonica glances at me, an eyebrow up. Then a wide smile comes on him. If he dared, I think he would slap me on the back.
Five hours and a short sonic shower later, I reflect on the unlikely impact my decision to crawl through a never-ending length of smelly, slippery, dark and narrow pipe has had on the two men who almost succeeded in killing me. As well as the cause of the blockage, we've found new grounds for mutual respect this afternoon and made our peace. In return, I can now face them and Deck 15 with equanimity, and we've saved a few tonnes of dilithium from going to waste, so to speak.
A good result for everybody involved.
I'd love to tell Chakotay over breakfast of my less-than-orthodox method in dealing with crew morale, while he reveals B'Elanna's latest opinion on Starfleet maintenance schedules. Chakotay and I are finding our way around each other slowly, and our combined crew is doing the same, one day at a time.
But that morning the foe I've been chasing since coming back on the bridge returns to taunt us, pushing us headlong into a murky future where trust becomes the first casualty.
###
Hello, Chakotay.
The message flashes on the private console in the darkness of my quarters.
Miss me?
There's no audio and no visual, but I know who's talking to me, a reminder the past always has a way of catching up with me.
Wondering what I've been doing? Or have you been too busy holding Janeway's hand?
More posts trickle in over the next days, a few lines at a time no doubt to avoid detection.
The great Maquis leader serves under a Starfleet captain. What a waste!
They are urgent, demanding, their author confident I will do as she says and follow her.
But it seems you've got second thoughts. You aren't very imaginative encrypting your personal logs. And, boy, do they make for fascinating reading. Let me see if I can recall some of the more juicy bits from the past few: 'Janeway is not listening to me. She's too interested in keeping to her sacred Starfleet principles.'
Can't say I didn't see that one coming.
Or this one: 'This quadrant is made for people who know how to fight quick and dirty. This is what I do best. I made a big mistake bowing to Janeway's terms. I don't belong here.'
Perhaps, I've misjudged you, after all.
Be my guest, get B'Elanna to try and find out the carrier wave I'm using. But ask yourself, Chakotay, do you really want to? Because I've got a proposition for you.
Come back to who you really are, Chakotay, and bring me what I want.
###
Thus begins my betrayal, first officer turning against captain, mutual respect collapsing under my repeated attacks. The rest of the crew stands aghast as I destroy our newly fledged alliance with the recklessness of a rogue starship.
We keep our worst for the bridge. Over the next few days, spurred by Seska's words from across space, I shape ammunition from slurs and contempt while the captain reinforces her walls with the Starfleet rulebook.
"You've exceeded your daily allocation of holodeck time by more than three hours, Chakotay. Care to explain?"
"Nice boots, but they aren't Starfleet issue I believe."
"The Alpha shift starts too early for you, Commander? Should I remind you what the Maquis' lack of discipline got us into?"
"Starfleet protocols exist for a reason. You are my first officer. Bring yourself to apply them."
"Your dissatisfaction with my orders is duly noted once again, Commander, but I am the captain. I expect you to follow my orders."
"Request to disembark denied, Chakotay. What you will do is remind yourself you are on a Starfleet vessel and start behaving like a Starfleet officer. Dismissed."
"What was that brawl about in the mess hall? I won't tolerate my first officer picking a fight with the ship's pilot. You've gone too far this time. Tuvok, please show the Commander to the brig before he hits somebody else."
A week after Seska's contacted me, and all is ready for my hasty departure.
###
"We should stop meeting like this. The crew will begin to talk." I ease myself in the command chair of the Baxial.
"I can assure you that nobody knows we are meeting, Captain. You are still in sickbay where the Doctor is impersonating you, discussing your food intake, or lack of. As for me, I am meditating in my quarters," Tuvok answers.
My Vulcan friend is sitting down at the helm to avoid the low ceiling, his profile a dark line against the gloomy space.
Those very few who know of Seska contacting Chakotay are reduced to using paper notes, or meeting in the strangest locations for rare face-to-face talks.
The Baxial is the only place that's not linked to Voyager's computer system. Everywhere else is a no-go zone as far as confidential conversation are concerned. We are pretty certain Seska has visual access to only a few areas, maybe just the bridge, but the multitude of PADDs, consoles and sensors that crowd the ship are another matter completely.
"Yes, of course. My apologies. It was a bad joke. Hanging around in Voyager's bowels is something I thought I'd left behind me."
There's no way we can disable Seska's hacking program without also severing our only link to the Kazon ship, so we make our plans out of the reach of her prying ears, and without the knowledge of most on board. I am less than happy about the need for deception when the crew is still raw and edgy over the events of the first two months of our arrival in the Delta quadrant.
But we've been unable to find Culluh's ship. If the mountain will not come to me, I must go to it, guided by a ruthless Cardassian. It is a breakthrough I can't afford to ignore.
Tuvok's silence breaks through my thoughts. "Is the shuttle ready?" I ask.
He nods. "The tracer is embedded in the hull matrix itself. Quite impossible to detect with Kazon technology."
"Good. Unless they blast the shuttle, you'll be able to know where the Kazon ship is located. This could give you a tactical advantage if Culluh decides to come after Voyager."
He remains silent, his back too rigid, his eyes too intent on meeting mine.
"What's worrying you, old friend?" I ask, putting my hand on his arm.
With Seska potentially listening to our every word on the ship and time running out, he has not been able to fully advise me. There are quite a few gaping holes in that plan of mine, especially around getting back to Voyager, but the stakes are too important to think too much about that.
"Your abduction is not required for the plan to succeed. Lieutenant Torres is the more logical choice to accompany Commander Chakotay."
He is not touching on his main disquiet, and for that I am grateful.
"Torres is needed on Voyager. I know her methods are unorthodox, but they are effective. It would send the wrong message to the rest of the crew to ask her to go."
Tuvok's eyebrow rises, a sign I am not giving him the response he wants.
"Ultimately, I am the one responsible for the protocol breach those torpedoes represent. I was the one who gave Chakotay the chance to take over Voyager, and in doing so, I basically helped Seska deliver the weapon schematics to the Kazon-Nistrim."
The consequences of her treachery are something I can't let out of my mind.
"Your reasoning in this particular instance is flawed, Captain. The circumstances were highly—"
"It doesn't matter." I want to pace my anger away, but the Baxial deck has limited space to do so. "The fact remains that the Kazon-Nistrim are running loose with Starfleet weapons on board their ship. I can't let that continue. Not on my watch."
Tuvok nods his agreement. "The facts are hard to refute. However, being a Cardassian, Seska may see through your subterfuge. She is skilled at deceit as she has proven to us already, and she also knows both Maquis and Starfleet tactics."
"It's a risk we'll have to take. There are a few things that should work in our favour. She needs help to make those torpedoes work otherwise she wouldn't have called on Chakotay to bring a weapon expert with him. I also don't think she has had the time to get Culluh's full confidence as yet. The Kazon are not renowned for trusting women. We can capitalise on those points."
And improvise on the others, because I suspect this is going to be one rough ride, but I don't tell Tuvok that. He is not a strong believer in gut feelings.
"How's Chakotay?" I ask instead.
"Lt Torres came in to talk to him when I was leaving the brig. It is fortunate for the Commander that the force field of his cell only lets through Klingon insults," Tuvok says.
I smile at his attempt to lighten my mood, even though Torres' reaction to Chakotay's deception is no laughing matter.
I loathe to leave her in the dark, but the fewer people know what we intend to do, the better. We don't know for certain if there aren't any of Seska's sympathisers remaining on Voyager. Her abrupt departure might have pushed them in the background, and news of her reappearance have to wait.
"This whole affair is taking its toll, but it can't be helped. Once we are on the Kazon ship and you've shut down Seska's link to Voyager, you'll be able to tell the senior staff what's going on, so there are no more misunderstandings."
I get up, keeping my head low although I'm unlikely to bump into the ship ceiling. "For now, we need to see the second part of the plan to its end. Are Paris and Ayala ready?"
"They assure me they will make the Commander's escape very believable."
"In that case, I'll continue to play my part. It's time for me to go and visit Chakotay. Good luck, my friend."
My greatest thanks to my betas: Helen8462, Mia Cooper, and a very nice young lady who shall remain anonymous.