FIRST PLACE, "LOVE THROUGH THE YEARS" FANFICTION CONTEST

BASED ON "CARETAKER"

UNIFICATION

By Diane Running Horse

Rated G

It was nearly time.

Captain Janeway poured her fourth cup of steaming coffee, sipped it cautiously and set it down past the point where a careless elbow might send it splattering across her desk. She treasured the delicate china cup, one of a kind, originally designed for tea. Stacks of padds chronicling everything from Tom Paris' recent promotion; the acquisition of two alien but friendly crewmembers, to the temporary reassignments of the surviving Starfleet personnel and a list of the captured Maquis cell surrounded her monitor.

The death of so many crewmembers, her own first officer included, had been a harsh blow to this mission, harsher than their present situation. She silently vowed that Voyager would lose no more crewmembers on the long return home. It was a vow impossible to keep, she knew, but she made it nonetheless. Their greatest loss had been that of their doctor, but perhaps, temporarily, they could manage with that eee-lec-tronic man as Neelix had called him, she thought, smiling in spite of herself. But, first things first. She put on her best captain's face for the coming interview.

She folded her hands and glanced at the chronometer. Precisely on schedule, her door chime sounded. He was admirably prompt. 'Come in,' she said.

Chakotay, Captain of the Maquis ship Liberty, stepped gracefully through the entry and stood at attention, hands locked behind his back. 'You wanted to see me, Captain.'

Disciplined. Courteous. Professional. Respectful - but tense, as if he anticipates the worst. He's got the bearing of a first-class officer, despite that outfit. She smiled slightly to ease the moment and gestured toward the chair before her desk. 'Have a seat.'

'Thank you, Captain.'

'Would you care for coffee? Tea?'

'Tea would be fine, thank you.'

She expertly poured and set the Starfleet-issue cup before him. 'I was hoping you would say coffee. It would help if we had similar tastes.'

An expression of quizzical astonishment flitted over his dark features, as if he couldn't gauge whether or not she was joking. 'Captain?'

'There is an important matter that I would like to discuss with you. It concerns your crew...and mine...since we now occupy the same vessel. Again, I offer my condolences on the loss of your ship.'

'She ran a good course. As for myself and my crew, we naturally anticipate being assigned permanently to the brig.'

'Do you think that's necessary?'

'The question is, does Starfleet think it's necessary.'

'Wouldn't you agree that we're a long way from Starfleet right now?'

'Only from my chair to yours, Captain.'

She arose, china cup in hand, walked around her desk and ascended the two steps to the upper level. She stared at the unknown stars streaking past the broad window for a moment, lifting the cup to her lips. That cup suits her, he was thinking as he patiently waited for her to collect her thoughts. Feminine, graceful, delicate -- but able to withstand bitter elements at high temperatures.

'Audietur et altera pars,' she said in a strong voice, then turned to regard him. 'You went to the Academy, Chakotay,' she prompted.

'May the other part also be heard,' he translated, smiling.

'Assigning any of the Maquis to the brig was never an option. Our situation is the consequence of my decision. And, as it stands now, we're going to need the expertise of every person on board this ship. We're all going to have to work together, wouldn't you agree?'

'It's going to be difficult. Two crews...two captains. How are you going to work out the logistics of that?'

She measured her words slowly. 'There won't be two crews, Chakotay. We wouldn't survive that way, and you know it. I'd like to hear your thoughts on unifying our people – not your Maquis crew and my Starfleet crew. Just one crew. A Starfleet crew.'

'My thoughts? Captain, every one of us has spent the last two years as sworn enemies of the very uniform you wear. How can you ask us to swear allegiance to our enemies?'

'Because it's time to put those differences aside until we get home.'

'What happens after we get home? Do you turn us in?'

'Why take that into consideration now? Seventy thousand light-years means...

'A long time to get acquainted.'

Now was no time to crack a smile. 'That's right,' she replied. 'Are the Maquis capable of that?'

He set down his cup, rose from his chair and joined her on the upper level. 'I'm capable of it, Captain,' he assured her, looking her straight in the eye. 'As for my crew...' he sighed, 'I'll talk to them.'

'Do more than talk, Chakotay, because this is how it has to be.'

'Captain, every one of them is going to have difficulty with this. Some will rebel; some will refuse outright. And there are one or two who could be a danger to the ship.'

'It's up to you to make sure that doesn't happen, because I'm appointing you as my first officer, full rank restored and field commission granted. You'll be responsible for every person on board this ship.'

He was silent for a long minute. 'Captain, I appreciate your confidence in me when you hardly know me, but with all due respect, Lt. Tuvok is the obvious choice for your first officer.'

'You are the obvious choice. I'm familiar with your Starfleet records, which were exemplary. You wore this uniform not so long ago, and you were their captain. They respect you. I can't think of a better way to manage both crews. Besides,' she said with a smirk and a twinkle in her eye, 'two captains would be rather cumbersome, don't you think?'

He nodded solemnly, his allegiance to her growing by the minute.

'Under ordinary circumstances, I'd agree, but I'm going to need Tuvok in security and for tactical. I'm calling a staff meeting tomorrow to begin sorting everything out. So...are we in agreement?'

'Your crew may have problems accepting the authority you've given me,' he cautioned.

'Not if we present a united front. They're professionals, remember. I didn't say it was going to be easy, Chakotay, but I think it's possible to meld the two crews into one. We have to – for our own survival.'

He looked down at the delicately small but somehow dynamic woman. She had earned his respect during their recent dealings with the Caretaker. She had earned his trust, not lightly given. He knew in his heart that he would follow her to the end of the universe. She offered her hand and he took it, sealing the bargain. He had entered this room expecting to spend the rest of his life incarcerated and instead found a friend and ally. She called on him to join her, because her tribe was too small and weak to defend itself from all its enemies. The long road ahead would be dangerous and difficult – but together, they would get their crews home.

'Now,' she grinned, heading back down toward her desk, 'let me introduce you to coffee.'

The End