Sandcastles: Part One
Standard disclaimers.
Notes: This is long, It's an A/U about season two characters who don't know each other well, and takes place right after Basics. But in this case, the child was Chak's. It was written right after that ep. I have no idea how the child ended up on Voyager.
Chapter 1: Introducing the Problem
Kathryn Janeway looked at Kes with equal measures of sympathy and exasperation. The Ocampan had been avoiding bringing up the real reason she'd come for nearly fifteen minutes. Janeway felt her patience start to give out. She finally said, as gently as she could, "Kes, maybe you could just get to the point."
With that, Kes looked up and grimaced, but immediately looked back down again. "I'm trying, Captain. But this is very difficult to say correctly." She took a deep breath, refusing to meet Janeway's gaze. "There are two members of the crew whose health seem precarious to me. I've become very concerned."
"Why hasn't the Doctor informed Commander Chakotay or me of this? If someone's ill-"
"Captain, its not that serious." Kes sighed and continued. "I'm sorry to worry you. The problem's not possible to document yet. It's too early. In fact, the Doctor doesn't even think there is a problem. But I do and I thought you should be informed."
"Kes?"
"I'm trying, Captain."
Janeway was relieved and disturbed. And frustrated, she silently acknowledged. She mentally erased the next two meetings on her schedule. It was clear her conversation with Kes was going to take a while.
Kes finally got to the point. "It's Commander Chakotay and the child."
Janeway sighed and waited. When nothing further was forthcoming, she tried again. " I know the Commander's been having some difficulty adjusting to the demands of raising a child. That's to be expected, of course, but I wasn't aware it was physically affecting his health."
"It's not. At least, not that I'm aware of. It's the physical health of the child that I'm concerned about."
"I thought the Doctor gave it a clean bill of health."
"He did. This is difficult to explain. While the child's physically healthy, there are still early indications of problems. For example, he cries continually and doesn't sleep even though for his age and size he should be adjusting. He eats, but he has to be coaxed constantly. And, although he's in the norm for most things, he seems listless and somehow frustrated."
"Aren't a lot of babies like that?"
Janeway realized, with some annoyance, that she had no idea what babies *were* like. Children weren't a part of her life, except for her nieces. She'd tried to be sympathetic to her sister's concerns, but...well, that was a thought best left back in the Alpha quadrant. Of course, she'd taken classes along with everyone else on command track concerning the management of vessels with children on board at the Academy. But the issue had never had to be considered on ship she commanded before. Now, out here, in the Delta quadrant, she was looking at the possibility of a generational ship. The thought was troubling. Up to now, she'd done her best to avoid the inevitable implications, hoping they could wait. She got up and began to pace the room.
Of course, her first officer, in his infinite ability to unsettle her, had started the problem. Inadvertently, she had to admit, but none-the-less he *had* started the problem. It was typical. She turned back to the conversation at hand.
Kes continued. "Perhaps other human children do display some of these characteristics. But this child is part Cardassian, part Bjorian because of the changes Seska underwent, and human. Captain, there really is a problem."
"What is it?" Janeway decided she shouldn't be surprised. It was Seska's child, after all.
"I don't think he's bonded with anyone."
Janeway'd already imagined a number of dire scenarios. Bonding didn't fit in any of the subcategories she listed under "dire". She stopped her knee-jerk reaction of rejection and tried asking for clarification instead of making assumptions. "Bonded? It's just a baby."
"Yes, Captain, and you've just demonstrated what I suspect is the cause of the problem. 'It's' a person, a he, a living creature with emotional needs, even though an infant. As I said before, this is difficult to explain.
"The Commander is a responsible parent. All of the child's needs are being met physically, but emotionally there's just no connection between them. I don't think the Commander even likes to be in the same room with the child but he still insists on being the primary caretaker. It must be difficult to spend the majority of your time physically caring for a demanding life form to whom you have such a complex connection. Unfortunately, the child care plan we've set up for when he's on duty rotates responsibility, so the child is never close to anyone other than the Commander for an extended period of time."
With that, Janeway felt more hopeful. Maybe there was a procedural "out" of what she suspected was going to be a "what they didn't want to hear about in reports" type of problem. "Kes, you set up the schedule. Perhaps you can simply adjust it."
"No, Captain, I can't. Perhaps you or Chakotay could, but I'm just working with what's left after shifts are arranged. And even if I could, it wouldn't help."
All right, that hadn't worked. Janeway braced herself and then asked the obvious question. She had a feeling she wasn't going to like the answer. "Kes, what are you suggesting? "
"I think the baby needs an emotional bonding with a parent. And the Commander... well, I think the problem's affecting the Commander as well. Someone needs to intervene. I've tried but he won't discuss it with me, and I have no authority to do anything about the child. But, Captain, you do."
It was as bad as she thought. She tried to avoid the inevitable. "Kes, while I sympathize, you say that the child's physical condition, as well as Chakotay's, is within acceptable limits. I don't think I can interfere."
"Captain, I'm sorry, but that's where you're wrong. You are the only one who can interfere successfully."
"Kes -"
"Captain."
Janeway sighed. "Kes...?"
"The child is a member of your crew. Granted, the newest, and the youngest, but still a member. Your treatment of him will be mimicked and accepted by the rest of the crew. Have you even seen him yet?"
Janeway shook her head, admitting the oversight. "It's been busy lately. "
"I didn't think so."
Kes seemed determined to finish now that she's started. "Most of the crew ignores him. I think that's why Chakotay spends most of his time alone now. Oh, some of us have tried, but I think he agrees with most of the crew. Your Starfleet regulars see the child as his mistake and Seska's revenge; with the Maquis it's more complex. Most feel betrayed, I think, and see the child as part of that betrayal, but hurt for Chakotay."
"But Captain, 'it's' just an innocent baby. The crew's ambivalence is affecting the baby. They're reacting to Chakotay's actions, and ... I'm sorry, Captain, but your attitude on this is also being weighed fairly carefully."
Janeway hoped all those years of command school had helped. She kept her expression featureless, immobile, and distant.
Kes tried again. "Captain, think about it. The child's been on board Voyager for nearly two months now, and Chakotay still hasn't given him a name."
Janeway had to admit that as evidence, it was damning. Kes was really on a roll.
"Frankly, I don't know what else to do except to ask for your help. I believe that the consequences of lack of intervention will be long term and significant for them both if something isn't done soon."
Janeway sighed and admitted defeat. "What do you suggest? Chakotay will certainly treat any advice I have on child rearing and his personal life with the disrespect it deserves."
"I'm not asking that you talk to the Commander. It won't help, at least not right now. But please, get to know the child. Spend time with him. Your willingness to accept the child as part of Voyager will change the crew's view, and will help Chakotay to integrate him into the community. It may even help Chakotay accept him, and ultimately help a bond develop between them."
Seska's child. It was a lot to ask. But Kes was right. She should try, if only to help Chakotay integrate the child into Voyager. It was her responsibility... but ... the "newest member of her crew." It didn't feel right to her. "All right. I'll look into it, but I'm not sure my presence will be viewed as anything more than interference."
"Thank you, Captain."
Janeway spent the rest of the day listening to the crew, talking to some of the caregivers, and unobtrusively watching Chakotay. Finally, she began to plan strategy.
Chapter 2: Janeway starts her strategy
Chakotay signaled for entrance to Carey's quarters after his shift in order to retrieve the child. Odd, that Carey, a Starfleet officer, had been nearly the first to volunteer to help. But then, Carey had a wife and young children on Earth. Perhaps taking care of the child helped him reconcile his own loss in some way.
Carey was slow in responding. He finally opened the door, and looked surprised. "Uhhh...Commander? How are you? I'm sorry, sir. I didn't expect you."
Chakotay ran Kes' schedule through his mind, silently acknowledging that he'd expected he'd mess it up eventually. The schedule was amazing, complicated, and erratic. Twenty crewmembers were participating; their shifts often lasting as little as an hour at a time. Like Carey, most of the volunteers had children at back in the Alpha Quadrant. He didn't know what to make of it all, except to be grateful. He supposed that a child, any child, was important to some of the crew who had left family behind. But not all the crew were quite so tolerant. He'd also heard the grumbling and gossip when they thought he wasn't around.
He was too tired lately. He wasn't paying enough attention to detail. "I'm sorry to disturb you, Carey. I thought you were listed. Do you know who has the child?"
"Commander, I *was* scheduled to have him. But the Captain came and picked him up two hours ago."
"The Captain?" Chakotay couldn't manage to keep the incredulity out of his voice.
Carey noticed his astonishment. "I'm sorry, sir. I assumed she'd mentioned it to you. " Carey looked as uncomfortable as a man could be, given the circumstances.
"Yes, well, it probably slipped my mind. Again, I'm sorry to bother you, and thank you." He could nearly feel Carey's relief filter through the air in reaction.
"No problem, sir. You know, he really is a cute little guy, even though he is a little cranky at times. Reminds me of my second son in a way."
He forced Carey to look at him directly, and said with absolute certainty, "Carey, she'll get us back. You'll see them again."
Carey looked away for a moment, and then back again. "Yes, sir."
Chakotay forced what he hoped was a smile and changed the topic back to the original point. "But in the meantime, I appreciate all you've done to help."
"It's no problem, Commander. I like him."
"Yes... well, thanks again."
He retreated, hoping he'd covered his confusion sufficiently for Carey not to read anything into his comments. Why had Janeway chosen to become involved with the child? Of course, she'd acknowledged its presence in the last two months, even asking about its health, but the interactions had been superficial and casual. She'd left his personal life *personal* until now. He couldn't remember if she'd ever even seen the child. He didn't think so, except, of course, for the day when he'd first brought it on board. A casual Command attitude about its presence was far less worrisome than this latest development.
The truth was he'd been distracted recently. He'd needed to reconcile this new responsibility with his work and other obligations. It was difficult, but he didn't think the problem had escalated enough to affect his performance overall.
"Computer, locate Captain Janeway."
"Captain Janeway is in Commander Chakotay's quarters, deck –
"End." She'd overridden the security codes into his quarters. Nearly unheard of on any starship. Her concerns must be serious if she'd gone that far to make a point. She was clearly unhappy about something. Perhaps the child's presence was causing problems, or Kes's lists, - or more likely - his own performance. Damn.
It had to be his performance. Serving as XO to a diverse crew in a completely unknown area of space wasn't exactly the simplest thing he'd ever done. It was difficult even when he was focused, and took the combination of his experiences in Starfleet and the Maquis to make it work.
Starfleet and Maquis; now that was a dichotomy. Ironically, the current situation had dulled the differences in his mind lately. He was tired. He couldn't even remember what was what, which was probably the problem. He was usually on top of the nuances on the ship. He'd clearly missed something.
As he reviewed the past, the memories merged into a synthesis of sorts. Life in Starfleet in the Alpha quadrant had been a question of either feast or famine. Months would go by where nothing happened except calm exploration in the Alpha Quadrant. Then, a crisis - an attack or anomaly or political problem - blew up and the entire focus of the crew would center on survival. In the Maquis, it had been different. There, life was always on the edge.
Life on Voyager in the Delta Quadrant had elements of both, with its own unique twists. Like life in Starfleet, there were calm periods, but they were intensified by the ship's isolation. Unlike Starfleet, when it was calm the focus of the crew shifted to what had been lost, and on personal differences. There was no future to plan for except the present, and so there was ample opportunity to brood about the small details of daily living. It made the crew tense and command precarious. During the crises, the mood was unlike Starfleet, more like the Maquis. There was no "backup", no way to repair safely. They were on their own.
The crew reactions to the problems were predictable. The Maquis responded with a clear sense of relief in crises, almost as though they were grateful for the chance to be back in action and for the distraction. Although Starfleet personnel handled each crisis professionally, they did it with a distinct unease that was missing from the Maquis. On the other hand, during the calm, Starfleet professionalism really kicked in and the Fleeters tolerated life in the Delta Quadrant with a stoicism that was missing from the Maquis. It was the Maquis who created the most unrest during the calm when they had time to brood.
It had been calm. And he hadn't been paying attention. There'd been some incidents, but he thought he'd gotten to them in time. Evidently, he was wrong. He ran through the latest incidents in his mind. There was the brawl between Ayala and Dalby, the verbal explosion between deAlgier and Carson in Stellar over a misplaced star chart, and on and on. Nothing out of the ordinary. None of it should have gotten to the Captain, unless he'd missed something. He probably had.
He palmed the security code to enable entrance to his quarters, took a deep breath and walked in. The scene was indecipherable. Janeway was working at the terminal at his desk with the child asleep on her shoulder. Her hair was down and she was in casual clothes. The "kitchen" area of his quarters was a disaster. She'd clearly fed the child, replicated some food for herself, and left it all to clean up for later. It was so unlike the Janeway he knew that it left him speechless. He simply stood in the doorway absorbing the image.
She looked up from her work. "Hello, Commander. Nothing to say?"
"Captain? Is there a problem? "
"A problem? I wouldn't call it that. Kes simply suggested that I needed to get to know the 'newest member of my crew'. I decided she was right."
"I'm sorry she bothered you. I know she's become somewhat zealous about 'the schedule' but to ask to you be involved was unwarranted."
Janeway interrupted. "You're mistaken, Commander. She didn't ask me to be part of the schedule. I decided to volunteer myself."
She turned her head to look at the child, and then looked back at him. "Kes told me that he was refusing to eat and sleep, but that seems to be in error. He ate everything designated on his charts, and he's been sound asleep for the last hour."
He couldn't seem to find a response to that other than amazement, so he just kept silent. He felt his stomach turn over from tension. He knew her well enough to know that if she'd decided the child was a problem, or something that demanded command attention, she'd be completely tenacious in her analysis until she found a solution that she felt was satisfactory.
He didn't like being the focus of problem she felt compelled to solve. He'd been there once, when she'd been sent after him, and look at where that had gotten him.
The child stirred and settled back into another position on her shoulder.
He finally found his voice. "Captain, it's my responsibility. With all due respect, I think it would be preferable if you let me take over now."
"Commander, 'with all due respect,'" she said ironically, with an edge in her voice, "he's not an 'it'. You're exhausted, he's calm now, and I'm working on Tuvok's latest recommendations for security enhancements. We're fine, but *you're* not. Why don't you get some rest? This review will take another three hours. I can watch the child during that period."
"Captain, I-"
"Commander, consider it an order. You're exhausted."
She paused, looking up from her work. "Chakotay, it's all right. Please, let me help in this."
It was the last part that undid him. He suddenly realized that he was tired, emotionally and physically. It had been a harrowing two months. He still didn't like it, and still didn't see the point of it all, but he wasn't sure he could fight the determined look in her eyes.
" I suppose if it's really only three hours-"
"Thank heavens. The man shows some signs of sanity. Go to bed."
"Aye, Captain." He couldn't keep the confusion out of his voice.
He stumbled into his sleeping quarters, threw off his boots, and fell into the bed.
He woke from a deep sleep with the feeling that something wasn't right. Then he remembered Janeway and the child.
"Time."
"0215, stardate 5-
"Stop". Two in the morning. He's slept seven hours, and she hadn't woken him. If the gods were with him, she'd left and the child had actually slept .
He looked towards the crib next to his bed. No.
He stumbled into the main part of his living quarters and found her still at work with the child asleep on her shoulder. The room had been picked up, but there were uncountable numbers of coffee cups by his desk. He tried to wake up, to focus, but he was still dazed by how deeply he's slept.
"Hello, Commander, I hope you're feeling more rested now."
"Captain, it's two in the morning. What are you doing?"
"I told you. I needed to finish this. Here was as good a place as anywhere, and you needed the rest."
He didn't fall for it. He could tell from her expression that she hadn't expected he would.
He decided to get to the point. "The child and I are doing fine. Thank you for your concern but perhaps you should get to the real reason you're here."
"I told you that. I wanted to get to know the child."
His expression must have conveyed his disbelief, because she followed up, angrily. "Chakotay, quit being an ass and accept the help when it's offered."
He stiffened and used her title for emphasis. "*Captain*, Starfleet regulations do not permit you to become involved in my personal life. As I said, the child and I are fine."
"The hell they don't. And the hell you're fine. You're exhausted; he's exhausted."
There it was; the comment he'd been waiting for. He decided to get the situation over with.
"Are you suggesting my performance has been affected?"
"I'm telling you that you need help with him."
"Understood. I'll make sure it doesn't happen again."
She stood up and took the child into the sleeping quarters, returning almost immediately without him. "You don't understand. And I should have expected that you'd play the martyr in this. But I'm not going to argue with you about it, at least not now. Go back to bed, Commander. There's a good chance he might continue to sleep. Goodnight."
She left the room before he could react. He went back to bed, too tired to care. The child started crying an hour later, but he'd at least gotten some sleep. He got up, put it on his shoulder, and began working at his desk.
Chapter 3: The Janeway Wall
Chakotay waited throughout the next day for Janeway to finish the conversation. In preparation, he'd gone through the logs but he hadn't found anything that merited the Captain's intervention in the XO duties. He'd been a captain under desperate, impossible circumstances. He knew what merited intervention from his own view. And by now he knew what Janeway thought merited intervention with the world of Starfleet protocol behind her. Either way, there were no incidents.
He'd reviewed their conversation so many times that he was bored with the memory. He couldn't see anything in it beyond her concern about his performance, but she hadn't said that directly, and she hadn't dressed him down. And he was tired enough that he suspected if she *did* try to dress him down he'd probably resign his "commission".
Starfleet be damned. He'd gotten into this because he was Maquis. A nice irony, that. If her version of Starfleet couldn't handle a child he was resigning.
Damn. He had to get a grip. Resigning his commission because he was tired, annoyed, and irritated was hardly rational. A Starfleet cadet, even a Maquis insurgent, knew better than that. They were in the Delta quadrant, for heaven's sakes. What was he going to do? Sleep? Stay in his quarters for 67 years?
He shook his head. The sleep sounded pretty good. Still, he'd better get it together and fast. That was the part that worried him.
He'd talked to Kes, Janeway's one reference to someone else, but all Kes would say was that she thought it was healthy that the Captain was taking an interest in the child. Unfortunately, he couldn't order Kes to tell him anything. The thought was unhealthy anyway.
If Janeway had a problem with him, it was best that he dealt with it with Janeway.
But Janeway was unavailable. She spent the morning in Engineering with B'Elanna working on warp core adjustments, and he had already committed to the afternoon in Environment, so he couldn't change that without questions about his performance, or lack thereof.
After his shift, he gave up worrying, checked the schedule, and went to pick up the child from Hendrickson from Stellar Cartography.
"Hello, Hendrickson."
"Commander, I didn't expect you. The Captain -"
Gods. He should have expected it. Unbelievably stupid on his part. He tried to rally and interrupted, " - came and picked him up two hours ago."
"Yes, sir."
Hendrickson looked as confused as he felt. Chakotay pulled himself together and smiled. "Of course. I just wanted to thank you for helping earlier."
"No need, Commander. You know, I kind of like the little guy."
"Yeah. Well, thanks again."
He slumped against the wall of the corridor after the door closed and sighed.
"Computer locate Captain Janeway."
"The Captain is in the Mess Hall, deck six."
"Stop." Not his quarters. She'd taken the child into a public forum, with the alpha crew at dinner.
Janeway was a lot of things, but she wasn't stupid. And *he* wasn't stupid enough to presume that she didn't know that he'd never taken the child into a public situation before. She'd done it deliberately without asking him. The child was *his* problem, and his responsibility. Even Starfleet allowed him that. He knew the regs about children. He'd enforced them on the Einstein.
Command was not allowed to become involved in family decisions concerning children, only in those issues that affected the health, performance of duty, or safety of the crew.
Taking the child to the Mess Hall without his permission violated at least five Starfleet regulations. She was deliberately breaking the regs and was clearly intent on blurring the lines between personal and professional.
And he couldn't discuss anything with her in public, unless he wanted the gods only knew what to fall apart.
The scene in the Mess Hall was as bad as he'd expected. Janeway was feeding the child, discussing the day with crew members who stopped at the table to talk. B'Elanna and Paris were sitting with her. Paris took the child from Janeway ... Paris... he moved in and took it before something happened.
Paris looked at him with surprise and suspicion, a grin finally spreading over his face. "Commander, I do have six nephews, you know."
No, he hadn't known, but he'd be damned if he was going to let Paris get to him.
Somehow, he managed to mumble something like thanks to Paris and started to turn away to take the child back to quarters, but Janeway interrupted.
"Commander, you must have forgotten. I promised to bring him with me to see the Doctor later. He wanted to give him a check-up. Why don't you get some sleep?"
He stared at her, unable to say anything that wouldn't make the situation worse than it already was. He looked away, trying to hold in his anger at her presumption. The room seemed suddenly quiet, and Paris' grin was disappearing.
Paris interrupted. "You know, Chakotay, I wouldn't mind taking him for a while. I can -"
B'Elanna broke in. "Stow it, Tom, and put any suggestions you have back in that black hole you call a brain."
Janeway smiled at the interaction. "Good idea, Tom. I want the crew to get used to the baby. Why don't you take him while I finish whatever it is that Neelix has decided to call dinner."
She looked up at him, an unreadable expression crossing her face. "As you can see, Commander, everything's under control here. Why don't you get some sleep? I'll bring him back to you later tonight."
He started to argue, but she stared him down and said quietly, so that only he and perhaps Tom and B'Elanna could hear, "Don't make me make it an order."
He turned and left.
Chakotay went back to his quarters, and fumed. He was furious at her for taking decisions out of his hands and for her interference and furious at himself for the relief he felt at being able to relax for a few hours.
Finally, he admitted that he was also annoyed at his irrational refusal to her offer of help. To all appearances, her intentions weren't hostile, even with the comments from the night before about his performance. She hadn't put him on report, and she seemed to actually tolerate the child.
Her only stated motive so far was to give him a chance to sleep. He didn't trust his view of that at all. Janeway was never that obvious or that simple to read.
After an hour of unproductive meandering, he decided to give in to inevitable nova that was Janeway on a roll, and sleep on it.
Paris showed up at the door at 0130 with the child, looking as nervous as a Cardassian kumar who'd sighted a predator. Chakotay eyed him with resignation and some amusement. Amazing, what some sleep could do.
"Lost her nerve, did she?"
"Commander ?
Chakotay took the child. " Don't worry, Lieutenant. I never shoot the messenger. Thanks for looking after him."
"Actually, the Captain did most of the looking after. You know, Commander, I kind of like the little guy. But, he certainly does sleep a lot."
"Really. Well, thanks again. Goodnight."
The impasse went on for two weeks. Every night, Janeway took the child before he was off duty and Paris showed up at 0130 to bring him back. He slept from 1800 until Paris arrived, and then worked most of the night while the child slept fitfully.
At first he was too tired to care what she did. But by the end of the second week, the child was sleeping more regularly and he seemed to be coming out of some sort of daze.
She was gradually introducing it to all of the crew. He knew that from the comments he got. By the end of the two weeks, Kes' list of volunteers had risen to include nearly half of them.
Janeway wouldn't talk to him. She had avoided him except in public forums since the night in his quarters. Once, when he'd tried to confront her in her Ready Room, she'd beaten Tuvok out of the bushes before he'd had a chance to start.
He'd sent messages, one a day, since the whole fiasco began, requesting an audience. They always came back "request denied". For strategy, he supposed it was unparalleled. The "Janeway wall". She'd done it to him before.
He just wished he knew what she was up to so he could start to reconcile how he felt about it.
Although now more resigned than angry, he still couldn't decide whether he wanted to murder her or admit that he needed to thank her for at least some of her dictatorial and misguided interference. Maquis humor. He considered murder as an option, but decided against it. He didn't have the energy for the mutiny afterward and he'd he be irritated that she wasn't around to help fix the mess she'd created.
Finally, he just continued to let her play out whatever game she had in mind, and waited for her to get around to explaining the rules. The humor in the situation was Paris' sheepish and somewhat confused expression as the weeks went on. After the first week, they developed a routine where Paris simply handed him the child without comment.
At the end of the second week Chakotay decided to break the impasse.
"What does she have on you, Paris? I'm going to have to readjust the duty roster if she intends to switch you to gamma hours."
"Commander, it's not what you think. All I do is pick him up at 0125. The Captain's the one who's been taking care of him. Although I must say, a lot of us like him a lot. He's a-"
"- I know, a 'cute little guy,'" Chakotay finished with irony. If one more person tried to convince him of it, he might *really* be tempted to violence. And he didn't want to even think about the Captain watching him for the last two weeks.
"Enough, Lieutenant. My thanks for your help. I suspect Janeway will get around to relieving you of this new responsibility soon enough, but in the meantime-"
"Chakotay, I like him. Lots of the crew like him. We just wish you'd like him."
Paris retreated when he saw his expression. " I'm sorry, Commander. That was out of line."
Chakotay took the child, turned, and closed the door on him.
Chapter 4: Janeway breaks the impasse
In his more irrational moments, Chakotay thought she was never going to get to the point. Every day, at 1700, he checked for the child's location. He'd learned to do that after the first two fiascoes. It was always with Janeway.
Finally, the situation changed. After his shift, he went to Carey's quarters to pick up the child. Carey was waiting for him when he arrived.
"Commander, how are you? Here he is. You know, I think he's getting bigger. He feels a little heavier."
"Kes seems to think it's gaining weight."
" Could be. He certainly has an appetite lately. He ate two bottles today."
"Really. Well, it may need a diet if this keeps up. "
"No sir, you may not realize it, but he's thin for his age. My first son was a lot like that."
Chakotay almost interrupted, but stopped himself when he noticed Carey was still holding the child, practically refusing to release it. He was saying something about his oldest son and parenting, idiosyncratic stories, but they seemed important to Carey to tell.
"Commander, I don't mean to be out of line, but my wife was gone during my first son's early years. I have some experience with single parenting and I have a few practical tips I'd be glad to share."
Chakotay realized with surprise that not only did Carey really want to tell him but he wanted to hear what he had to say. The child seemed to be some sort of catharsis for Carey, a way to talk about the family he'd left behind.
He was willing to listen. " I'd appreciate that."
"Commander, would you care to stay for some dinner? I have some replicator rations stored up."
" Carey, if you're going to give me advice, I think dinner should be on me."
Throughout dinner, he listened to Carey describe his family. It was another side of the man, one he'd never seen before. If it weren't for the child, he never would have. Carey seemed to think he understood something, he wasn't sure what, but it was obvious that the man needed to talk. So he listened. The "advice" was fragmentary and disjointed, set among stories Carey remembered about his children's youth. In the end, Chakotay found himself aching in sympathy for Carey's loss. When he finally left, he didn't know if he'd helped or done damage by listening.
As he returned to his quarters with the child, he realized that although he'd known its presence would unalterably affect his relationships with members of the crew, the change was occurring in directions he'd never predicted. He suddenly thought of Janeway, and pushed the thought aside just as quickly as it came.
In his quarters, he found Janeway at his desk again, working. He hadn't expected her. He felt some satisfaction, petty, but there, in that she'd probably been waiting for three hours now. After all, he'd been waiting for her to get to the point for two weeks.
"Hello, Captain. Finally come out from hiding?"
She came over and took the child. He thought it strange how natural it seemed to let her have it. Although they'd barely spoken for two weeks, some piece of the barrier of protocol had shattered.
She finally commented, "You might say that. But it depends on if you've gotten enough sleep to develop some common sense." She began on the offensive.
He said mildly, "I don't like being manipulated. But I no longer have visions of my hands around your neck, if that's what you're getting at."
She looked up, smiling, not in the least bothered by his cynical, slightly off sense of humor. "It's a start. I was rather worried about that for a few days. It would have been bad for morale."
She sat down on the couch with the child. He slopped down next to her, waiting for her to continue, his eyes on the desert painting in front of him.
When she finally said something, the comment seemed disjointed, disconnected to what he thought she had planned.
"Where have you been?" Her tone was odd, almost possessive. He put the thought aside.
"Carey wanted to talk about his wife and sons. I listened. The child slept."
"I see."
"Kathryn, I suppose I need to thank you for what you've done. I won't say I'm not still angry about the way you did it, but you were right. I was tired, my performance was off, and I was too distracted to see it. It's better now that the child's finally sleeping. But I wish you would have just talked to me
about it."
"You weren't willing to talk to anyone. Is that all you think this was about?"
" I don't much like your other objective of introducing the child to the crew, but it doesn't seem to have had too negative an impact on morale, and no one's threatened it yet. I suppose it had to happen eventually. What I don't like is the timing of it being taken out of my control. It wasn't a command decision, and it wasn't yours to make."
"Were you ever going to make it?"
"I don't know. I'll never know now."
"You have a strange view of the crew's attitude. They like him, and having a child on Voyager has added a whole new layer of meaning to the sense of community we've been trying to establish. There's a waiting list of over half the crew on Kes' schedule."
"I know. And I know what you had to do to change their views. But, damn it, Kathryn, you could have asked."
"You weren't talking. You were locked up in a prison of your own making, isolated, unwilling to negotiate, playing the martyr."
"I grew up years ago. I don't need a dictator, no matter how benevolent or how good the intentions, directing my life."
There was silence in the room, as they realized how badly the discussion was degenerating.
"Damn." Janeway exploded on the word, trying to regain some control.
"What?"
"I haven't been in a name calling fight since I was ten years old. I'm sorry."
He sighed, his anger disappearing as rapidly as it had begun. "So am I." He paused, looking every where but at her. The time seemed to stretch to infinity, and the silence was uncomfortable. "So what's next in this game?"
"That's what I came to ask you."
That got him. He stared at her in surprise.
"I know you would have preferred another approach, but you have no idea how stubborn you are. But I'm not here to argue with you. I never intended to continue to manipulate the situation. I just wanted to give you a chance to regain your equilibrium. I'd hoped, after you were more relaxed, we could discuss some options about what to do in the future. You do need help with the child, and I'm volunteering."
" I don't understand."
"Chakotay, you need down time. You can't always have the child with you. And he needs consistent attention from someone else, someone he recognizes. The schedule works well enough for the work shifts, but he needs a connection. I've had him for the last two weeks, and he's calmed down considerably . I think we're developing that kind of connection. I'd like to continue it."
She was describing parenting. She was actually offering to help him parent the child and a part of him was elated at the thought. Unbelievable.
He started laughing; he couldn't help it.
"What?"
"Sorry, but it really is ludicrous - a Starfleet captain helping parent the bastard son of a Cardassian spy and a rebel Maquis. They'd have your commission in the Alpha quadrant."
"Damn it Chakotay, we're not in the Alpha quadrant, and I wouldn't care there either. Is that really how you see him?" She sounded appalled.
"That's not how I see him. That's what he is. How I see him, that's different."
"Tell me."
"You really want to know? You won't like it."
She was holding the child tightly, almost protectively, he noted. "Yes."
"All right, I suppose anything is preferable to this insane situation you've developed. But remember you asked."
He kept his eyes on the painting. "Initially, all I could see was what I suspect Seska expected me to see. Revenge. Betrayal. A lifetime of responsibility and a permanent reflection of my mistakes. At first, it made me ill just to look at him. It took nearly a month to get over that, and I still have waves of hit it me at times."
"Later, as the day to day grind set in, I saw the child as more of a responsibility, an obligation. And, I suppose I felt guilty. I'm his father. None of it was the child's fault and it shouldn't matter. I should care about the child, but I had a hell of a time getting past the anger. I still haven't . I didn't want him around the crew. And I didn't want him around you. You, of course, conveniently took that decision out of my hands."
He knew he was hurting her, but she needed to understand, to quit being so naive, so optimistic.
"Lately, I've been able to see him more objectively, as his own person. After all, I've only heard about thirty times about what 'a cute little guy he is'. There must be some truth to it."
He left out the rest. When he'd brought the child on board, he'd given up any hope that there might someday be something between them. How could he even think about it, when he had a permanent reminder of the darkest time of his life to see to? And she'd understood at the time, at least he thought she had, and had helped create the distance. Now he wasn't sure she'd really known, with her surreal offer to help him.
"I won't have anyone else paying the price for my errors, at least not more than I can help. Especially not you."
There. It was done. It was said. He prayed that she'd get up and leave him alone to deal with the problem and grant him what little peace he had left.
" Chakotay, I'm sorry."
He stared at her, completely astonished. It was the last possible thing he'd expected her to say.
" You have to believe me. Seska wasn't your responsibility. None of it was your fault. She was an expert. You couldn't have seen it. I didn't and I knew about the infiltration program."
"The what?"
"The Cardassian infiltration program. They'd been running it for about six months. They'd destroyed at least a dozen Maquis cells by the time Voyager was sent after you. It's where I got the idea for Tuvok." She grimaced and continued.
"Seska wasn't your fault. If anyone, I should have seen what she was, but she was too good. I've never blamed you for anything more than an overactive sense of responsibility. And the universe knows I understand that problem. When you brought back the child, the only thing I felt was a blistering, furious anger at her for hurting you and at myself for not having caught her. I'd never felt that way before, about anyone or anything. I pulled back, and left you to misunderstand and accept all the responsibility. I'm sorry."
"Kathryn, that's insane. You have an astounding ability for twisting reality and accepting responsibility where there is none. You didn't sleep with her. I'm the one she got close enough to make this all possible."
"I told you. They were good. Very very good. They had a hundred per cent success rate, or so HQ claimed, when Voyager left. And Tuvok didn't see it either. He was on your ship for six months, knew about the infiltration program, and he's Security."
"If all this is true, why didn't you tell me before now?"
She looked extremely uncomfortable. "I didn't realize until after you went after her to get back the transporter how responsible you felt. And after, you'd seemed to resolve it. It was over, we knew who she was; the past was no longer relevant. I didn't want to destroy what we were building on Voyager."
"Why now?"
"The child. I may have been wrong about not telling you about Seska, but you're wrong about the child. Seska's actions were a betrayal directed specifically against both of us. But the child's innocent, with his own destiny, and a part of you. He's easy to care about. But he needs help, and he needs connection. We're both responsible for him lacking that, but it's something we can fix. The crew's already seen it. They've accepted him for what he is - a new life, new hope for Voyager, a connection to the future, not the past."
"He's my son, and my responsibility, biologically, legally, and morally. You don't owe anything, not to anyone, even if there was a 'Cardassian infiltration program' you neglected to mention. I won't accept your feeling responsible for the situation."
She shook her head, and sat silently for a moment. "All right, if that's what you want. But can you accept that he really does need help, and that I want to help you both?"
"I don't know. I told you, I don't want you near him. But I know you're right about his need for a connection, and I just can't seem to help him."
He paused, unable to take it in, to absorb everything she's said. It was tempting, to let go of the anger, to let her accept some of the responsibility, to absolve him of guilt, and to have her back in his life, in his child's life. It felt like she'd thrown him a lifeline, one he should ignore, but he couldn't seem to stop himself from grabbing onto. "I suppose we could try something on a temporary basis for a while."
"Thank you."
He could see relief, hope, and something else in her eyes. He looked away. It was important not to read too much into her offer. He was exhausted again. The conversation had been too intense, too demanding, too full of nuances he needed time to comprehend.
"I need some sleep. Is there anything else?"
"When did you stop calling him it?"
Damn her. He hadn't even noticed. "Kathryn, don't push. I can't give you answers but I'm willing to give you a day at a time. You're going to have to live with that. "
She handed him his child, and left quickly. "Goodnight Commander. Sleep well."
He watched her go, then looked down at his son. "You've certainly made your presence known. I'd like to know how you got her attention that fast."
He was rambling. He realized with some surprise that it was the first time he's ever said anything to the child directly. Afraid to test his luck with putting them both to bed while the child was asleep and he was so tired, he simply kept him in his arms while they both rested.
Chapter 5: Janeway's motives
He was able to accept Janeway's involvement with the child once he had learned her motives. Those boiled down to two words - responsibility and guilt. He understood the implications of both well, not that he thought she was right.
She felt responsible and guilty about Seska, and felt an obligation as Captain to help resolve the problems he was having with the child that were affecting his performance. In the latter, she was within her rights as the CO of the ship. And he had to admit that he probably wouldn't have accepted the help from anyone else. She also felt responsible for the child, as it was a member of her crew now. Given that perspective, her intervention did make sense, temporarily.
His own motives for agreeing to her involvement were much simpler and far more awkward. The child needed the help. He needed to sleep and to adjust to the demands of raising the child. And, although it was embarrassing to admit even to himself, he liked having her back in his life, even tangentially.
He rarely saw her for any extended period of time, but he still felt connected to her. The truth was he missed New Earth. And that was a thought he should erase immediately from his mind. That was over, and he needed to remember it.
They had developed a temporary pattern of sorts. She'd pick up the child, take him wherever, and bring him back at 0130. Often, he was asleep when she put the child in his crib and he'd wake later to find the child there and her gone.
She'd taken to coming and going in his quarters with her own unique erratic regularity; sometimes needing something, at others asking questions. She never asked for permission, and he couldn't seem to broach the topic, even though he normally hated his privacy being invaded.
It didn't seem to matter.
She accepted his authority on issues related to the child, although he could tell that it often went against her natural inclinations towards leadership and control.
Their working relationship also settled into a pattern. In this, her decisions were absolute and unquestioned. They were both polite, professional and distant. And careful.
He had maintained his early evening sleeping schedule even though the child now slept through most nights. He got huge amounts of work done in the night as there were no other distractions.
He started taking the child to the gym in the early hours of the morning. His son slept, and he worked out. No one was around, the gamma shift not yet off duty, and alpha still asleep. He grew to value the time with the child when they were alone without distraction, or complication. Once he'd started, he kept talking to him, and he swore, at times, that his son understood.
But the situation with Janeway had to stop. He couldn't continue to take advantage of her sense of responsibility indefinitely. He was sleeping, and the child clearly feeling better. They were over the rough period. He was grateful for her intercession, but there was no reason to continue it any longer.
If the Doctor could verify that the child was indeed healthy, he needed to talk to Janeway.
He took the child in to see the Doctor and Kes for a checkup.
"He's fine, Commander. In perfect health. He's gained weight and he's showing advanced growing signs and neural path development for a child of four months and 1/2, as far as I can determine given his unique biology."
"Thank you, Doctor." Four and a half months. Amazing. It had only been four months. One while Seska had him, then two alone, and the last six weeks with Janeway fighting him or helping him, he wasn't sure which.
"Commander?"
"I'm fine, Doctor."
"Are you? Kes told me that you've been shifting your sleeping pattern to accommodate the child. Now that he's sleeping regularly throughout the night, you should readjust . And, Commander, some social interaction would be beneficial as well."
"I'll think about it." So that was that. There was no possible reason to permit Janeway to help with the child any longer. It would be an unacceptable encroachment to continue to take advantage of her sense of responsibility.
Kes stopped him as he was leaving. "Commander, could I speak to you for a moment?"
He nodded, and she continued. "It's about the child and the Captain."
Chakotay stiffened. " Go on."
"You may not be aware of it, but the Captain's quite taken with the child."
"I know she' s felt obligated to help. I intend to relieve her of that responsibility now that he's sleeping regularly."
"Commander, please let me finish." He stopped. " I think you should watch the Captain, and listen, before you decide what to do. As I said, I think she's developed a connection to him, and one that's healthy for her as well. It must be difficult to be that alone, with so much responsibility. The child is an easy connection, don't you think?"
No, he didn't. But that didn't mean Janeway didn't see the child that way.
Strange, but possible, if Kes was right. The child could be an easy connection for her, with simple needs and simple requirements. Still, it was unlikely. He just didn't see Janeway as the maternal type. Even the thought made him smile.
Later, after Janeway had taken the child for the evening, he sat in his quarters and considered both the Doctor's and Kes' recommendations. The problem was he had assumptions and perceptions, but very little data. He needed to see Janeway with the child to have a better understanding of the situation.
But it wasn't only the question of what Janeway thought about the child that he'd missed recently. The universe only knew what he'd missed concerning crew morale during his self-imposed isolation of the last three months.
Luckily, there'd been no command problems during that time beyond B'Elanna's eternal fidgeting with the warp core. The last four visits to planets had been peaceful, simple missions to locate resources.
He thanked the gods for their intervention, or patience, and decided it was time that he made an appearance at Sandrines.
He'd forgotten how much of a madhouse Sandrine's could be when Paris was bored. And of course, Paris *was* bored, given the current calm. He walked in, unnoticed, and observed the insanity. Sandrine appeared, gave him his favorite beer, and disappeared into the crowd.
It took him nearly fifteen minutes to see Janeway with the child at a table in the back of the bar along with B'Elanna, Kes, Tuvok, and Kim.
His son, as usual, was asleep. Now that the child had finally gotten the hang of sleeping, he did it constantly, no matter what the situation. Chakotay realized that he'd be worried if the Doctor hadn't assured him that it was normal for his age.
He stayed out of sight and watched them. Janeway held the child protectively, fielding crew questions and requests with a cheerful smile, but with a "hands-off" approach.
His son slept through it all, resting on her shoulder. He found a chair and just watched, mesmerized by them both, by her.
He'd forgotten how incredibly beautiful she was. He wasn't sure he wanted to remember, but he felt himself caught, entranced with her presence.
Comments from their last real conversation came back to him; things she'd implied but he'd not understood. But no, it was best to leave that alone, and accept the present at face value, not what he hoped might be there.
Paris, as usual, caught him out. "Commander, we haven't seen you in nearly three months. Why don't you come on in and join the fun?"
"Tom, I'm fine." But Janeway had seen him and was staring at them.
Now that he knew what to look for, he could see wariness in her eyes. Of course, it was only in her eyes. Her "command posture" had kicked in, her body projecting calm. But his son sensed her wariness too, and woke up, crying.
He felt like the enemy.
As crew members began to look at them, he remembered that the last time he'd been in a public spot with his son was the incident in the Mess Hall. He shouldn't have come. But he was here now, and he couldn't hide from the situation.
He walked over to the table. " Hello, Captain. Kes, B'Elanna, -"
She interrupted before he got through the salutations. "Commander, I thought you were asleep."
The child kept crying though it all. Most of the crew was beginning to be distracted. Even in Sandrines. Even in a "bored Paris" program of Sandrines.
He stopped whatever she was going to say. "Captain, maybe you'd better give him to me. He's making a scene. Inappropriate, and probably genetic. Predictable."
She handed him the child, who quieted immediately and fell back to sleep.
She looked surprised, and he realized that, against all probability, they'd both developed bonds with his son over the last month.
Kes was right. Janeway did care about the child. Even with their current arrangement of joint child care, they'd never discussed it. Now, obviously, was not the time or place. His presence was attracting a great deal of attention, and the incident with his son would spread gossip for days.
Best to tread lightly, under the circumstances.
"I'm glad to see you here, Commander. Does this mean you've decided to return to the living?" Janeway's tone was completely neutral. He realized, suddenly, that she was still worried that he'd come to take the child.
He hadn't intended to upset her. He was still adjusting to the idea that she cared about the child. He handed the child back to her.
"Here. He's better now. You'd better take him back. I'm 'off duty' for another four hours, so he's your problem, thank the universe." He said casually, "The Doctor suggested I readjust to a standard schedule now that he's sleeping through the night."
There was sudden movement at the table. Kes looked at Tuvok, who nodded. She then turned to Janeway and commented, "Lieutenant Tuvok and I want to introduce CJ to the new hydropool. Would it be all right if we took him now?"
Janeway nodded in the affirmative and handed Tuvok the child. Chakotay watched as the Vulcan and Kes left the table.
"B'Elanna, come on. Pool." That from Paris, no less. "Harry, come help."
Kim, slow on the uptake, looked at Paris in surprise. "I just beat you ten minutes ago."
"No time like the present to try again. Captain, Commander." Paris literally dragged Harry and B'Elanna away from the table.
The end result of Paris' machinations was that they were left alone in a room of probably 70 people. Chakotay wasn't sure how many holograms there were.
Janeway broke the silence that had settled. "You certainly have a sense of drama, Commander."
He winced. "Sorry. I'd forgotten what a cesspool of gossip Sandrine's is. I was awake and decided to come out and socialize. The Doctor DID recommend it." The last part came out somewhat defensively.
She sighed and shook her head. "You've every right to be here. You just took the crew by surprise. For that, I'm sorry."
"No, I'm sorry. I should have thought it through before I came."
They stopped talking. Awkward with so much to say and so many people around.
He felt unaccountably cheerful suddenly and smiled at her. "Well, as long as we've started gossip already, we might as well get some enjoyment out of it."
Janeway looked at him suspiciously. "What are you talking about?"
"Dance with me."
"Are you insane?" Her expression of astonishment was worth the risk. Even if she refused him, he'd caught her off guard. He was amused at the thought. He couldn't remember ever seeing Janeway off center before.
"Probably. Hell, Kathryn, one dance. It'll keep them busy gossiping for a month and give them something to do. It's quiet now. Besides, it'll keep my imagination busy for a month too. Forget about all of it and dance with me."
He gestured toward the middle of the room. "Look out there. There's at least 40 people, 30 or so holograms, who knows, on the floor. We'll hardly be noticed."
"You ARE insane. I've known it all along, I just didn't want to believe it."
"You should have figured it out from the Maquis part. C'mon."
He nearly dragged her out of the chair. She looked annoyed, and then resigned, as he saw her realize that to stop now would cause even more of an uproar than simply dancing with him.
The music was soft, and slow, and it was appropriate to hold her close while they moved.
She seemed small and fragile in his arms, but he knew her strength, and wasn't mislead by the feeling. She'd probably kill him for this, when she regained her balance. He decided to enjoy it while it lasted, and pay later.
He pulled her in closer, inhaling the scent of her hair, and enjoying the feel of her softness.
He looked around and saw that they were being studiously ignored. Paris had convinced B'Elanna to dance, and they'd set up a barrier so that the Captain and he weren't the obvious targets of curious eyes.
After a few moments, he noticed a few others join in the blockade; Carey and Robertson from Environment, Kim and a woman from Security, de Algeir.
By the time Janeway'd had successfully stifled her irritation and looked up at him, they were alone again, in a crowd of people.
He smiled. "It's all right, you know. Paris sent in the Cavalry. No one's watching. What did you do to him, anyway? I've been meaning to ask for what seems like months."
"I gave him a job at Conn. I'm hoping he won't realize for another 67 years or so that someone else would have eventually. Chakotay, I've been considering some alternatives to -"
"Kathryn, could we just relax, and enjoy the moment? I don't think I've done anything but worry for the last three months."
She shook her head, but settled into him, and he enjoyed the luxury of simply holding her, with no responsibilities or demands pressing at them.
It finally occurred to him that he'd been holding her for much longer than a simple dance. "We'd better stop, or there'll be gossip for a year, not just next month."
She looked back at him cynically. "Commander, if the Kazon don't murder you soon, I probably will."
He laughed. "I doubt it. You couldn't stand all the hours with the child. No ,one could. Although he seems to have straightened up nicely, recently."
He took her back to the table. "Kathryn, what's the 'CJ' business about?"
She smiled at him innocently. It made him very, very nervous.
She finally said, mildly, "You're not going to like it."
He smiled back and accepted the inevitable. "I'd already figured that out."
"They needed something to call him, and you wouldn't give him a name. It's a nickname. CJ."
"as in-
"Chakotay junior."
" Oh hell."
She looked totally unrepentant, even amused. It was annoying.
She finally commented, "Well, it's *your* fault, you know. He needs a name. Every sentient race in the Federation provides its members with a name. Your own tribe places special emphasis on names. Ergo, Commander, whether you want to get around to it or not, he needs a name."
He said mildly, "There have only been three times in my life, which is remarkable, considering, when I've actually been inclined to murder you. The first was when I beamed on to your ship and Tuvok suddenly changed loyalties. The second was after that fiasco of a scene in the Mess Hall. This is the third."
He couldn't help smiling, though. It was an awful nickname.
She laughed. "You're not going to murder me. You couldn't stand all those hours alone with the child." She mimicked him, and he smiled again.
Encouraged, she started in again. "Chakotay-"
"No. You know, I had no idea you had a sadistic streak. Gods, 'CJ'. What a thing to do to him. I'm going to have to keep better track of what's going on, if I've any chance of saving him from permanent damage. Why *that*, for heavens sake? "
"It was the best I could come up with at the time."
He suspected, suddenly, that it was also bad enough that she thought it would force him to act on the name issue. The innocent look on her face confirmed the suspicion. He stopped smiling and said, "Captain, it's not your -"
"I know. -my decision to make."
He sighed. "Kathryn, you're pushing again."
"Chakotay, it's hard. I'm used to being in control."
"I know. But it's not healthy."
She stopped smiling. "If anyone else said that to me, I'd throw him in the brig. I'm tempted to do it anyway, Commander."
He continued, more mildly, his voice sympathetic. "Kathryn, you've got to let go of it. It's not healthy for you, and it wouldn't be healthy for the ship. No one could survive that kind of pressure and come out sane."
She sighed and then grimaced at him. He watched her anger diffuse. She finally commented, "Good advice?"
He laughed. " How does it feel?"
She sighed again. "Not very damn well. All right, I get the message. But will you at least think about it?"
"Enough. I'll think about it."
"Thank you."
They fell silent for a while. He finally brought up the issue that was hovering in the air. "Kathryn, we do need to talk about the change in my schedule. It going to have some effect on how we arrange things from here on out."
"I know. I've been waiting for it. Perhaps we can talk about it tomorrow." It was more a statement than a question. He nodded and she continued. "But right now, we better pick up 'CJ' and head back. 'Shift change' is almost here, and I need some sleep, even if you don't anymore."
"Aye, Captain."
Chapter 6: Chakotay starts some strategy of his own
Chakotay picked up the child early, beating Janeway to it. He thought it was best for them to talk privately. He had an idea about how to do that. He was a reasonable cook. Replicators were few on Maquis ships and on Maquis worlds. He thought she might enjoy a meal away from Neelix's mess hall. He knew he would.
She walked in, unannounced, an hour later. He was in the middle of completing a particularly complicated sauce, Bjorian in origin, but stopped when he saw her expression. " Captain, what's wrong? Voyager-?"
She sat down on his couch, and looked back at him. Her tone was completely controlled.
"Nothing's wrong with Voyager. I thought you agreed to discuss it with me before you decided on any changes in CJ's schedule and my involvement."
"I did, that is, I intend to. At least, I'd planned to tonight. I thought we'd agreed to that."
"So did I."
"Damn." Something was burning - the sauce. He went back to see if he could save it. It was possible, barely. Still looking down, he continued, "I thought you'd like some real food for a change. In the Maquis, everyone took a turn in the galley, and I was considered a pretty fair hand at it. So I picked up the child early in order to do some advance prepara-."
He looked up, suddenly realizing what had upset her. "I'm sorry if it appeared differently. I wanted to thank you for your help, and give us a chance to talk. Picking up the child early was just a convenience."
"I see." She looked relieved, and then interested. "It smells heavenly. What is it?"
"It doesn't have a name. I've composed it from traditional dishes of the Anasazi culture around the Colorado and Escalante rivers. That's the area that was underwater before they destroyed the Glen Canyon dam in the Eugenic Wars. I spent a lot of time canyoning there, first on breaks from the Academy, and then in between missions. I developed a taste for the food, so I spent some time researching what traditional food might have been like historically and adapted the ingredients. The sauce, however, is Bjorian. They just seem to work well together."
She moved over next to him to watch what he was doing. "Looks terrific. Anything I can do to help?"
"Yep, you can spend some of those outrageous numbers of replicator rations you have stashed away and 'buy' us some beer. I'm low. And then you can put that on the table." He pointed towards a number of dishes and utensils.
She startled look she gave him was worth the joke. "How in the universe do you know about my stash of replicator rations? I have that account blocked."
"A good XO knows everything. They taught us that at the Academy."
"I'm not going to touch that one. And don't tell me what else a 'good XO' knows. I don't think I can stand the strain. Modesty was obviously missing from your course. I bet you took it from Harrison. "
He smiled at that. She was right; he had taken the class from Harrison. The man was famous throughout the Academy for his pedantic, arrogant approach to the world. But he was an excellent scholar.
She moved over to the replicator to produce two cold beers, and then began work on the table. "Where's CJ?"
"Asleep."
"Again?"
"Yeah, he's definitely making up for lost time. And quit calling him CJ."
"Then -give him a name." They finished it simultaneously.
"I'm thinking about it." He brought the dishes he'd prepared to the table and joined her. "This is ready. Come sit down and eat." She sat, and they dug into what he'd prepared.
"This is incredible. How did you manage to find the ingredients in Neelix's supplies?"
"I had a fair number of replicator rations stashed myself, but most of this is fresh from the hydroponics bay. It's from Kes' project to grow food from the Alpha Quadrant. I offered to 'test' the results of her pilot and report back. I've been eyeing the corn for the last month. I decided to get to it before someone else beat me to it."
"Thank the stars for initiative and strategic planning." There was silence for a time and then she said, "Tell me about the canyoning."
"The canyoning... all right. After I left Danab V, relations were strained with my father and the tribe, so I spent most of my free time on Earth. I did some mountaineering and climbing in the Himalayas and the Andes but the ice started getting to me. And then I found the canyons."
"I thought most of that area is barred from visitors."
"It is. It's one of the World Reserves. But some passes are authorized each year and scientists are still allowed access. I connected with some archaeologists while I was at the Academy, Redbrooke and Huntington, and so they set up access for me when I had leave."
"Free trained help is at a premium in academic circles. I didn't mind going in alone and they weren't worried about me with my Starfleet survival training. I'd also worked in Redbrooke's lab during summers while I was at the Academy, so he trusted my 'tracking' ability, even if he still thinks I shouldn't be allowed near the excavation of a ruin. Essentially, I 'found' sites, or rather, verified their locations from scans, and Redbrooke and company analyzed the worthwhile ones later. Not many, and not often, but the vacations were spectacular."
"Tell me more."
"More.. all right...The canyons never leave you once you've seen them. The images remain strong, but somehow, overall, the word I'd use for them is subtle. The variety of the landscape catches up with you slowly in understanding. The mesas are flat, stark landscape, with unending blue skies above. But beneath, sometimes thousands of feet below, through the canyon cracks, the desert comes alive. It's another world to climb down into or, depending on where you are, to ascend to above.
"Each canyon's unique. In some, there are rivers with beaver dams and cottonwood forests, but they often end in slot canyons. Around you, throughout, the walls are immense, sheer slabs of browns and golds with streaks of black and gray. There's tumbled rock larger than Voyager, often of fantastical shapes made by the water rushing over sandstone for thousands of years. And there's wildlife. I remember the footprints; coyote, snake, lizard, jackrabbit; trails in the sand."
He smiled. "They aren't easy to experience. Not the best of them. For example, slot canyons often require wriggling through holes a meter in diameter, and swimming through deep water to get to the next opening, although occasionally you can slide step the sides to get through. And I did a lot of rock climbing. Sometimes I used ropes, although I usually preferred to do without when possible. But the quiet was worth it all."
He looked up and smiled apologetically. "Sorry. I tend to get carried away. It's not for the out of shape, but nothing that spectacular ever really is. It reminded me of Danab V, or at least parts of it. Somehow when I was there, I felt like I was home."
He paused. "There are other worlds - Vulcan, parts of Mars, with far more spectacular scenery, but to explore on Earth, and to identify ruins over 2000 years old, still lost...well... there was something incredibly special about it."
"It sounds incredibly special. Maybe someday, I'll see it. "
"You can now, if you'd like."
"What do you mean?"
"The last time I went to the canyons was immediately after I'd resigned from Starfleet. I knew I'd never see them again, so even though it was highly irregular, if not illegal, I got Redbrooke to agree to let me take a holocamera. The deal was that I was never to admit it to anyone and to view it alone. I suspect he thought I probably wouldn't live long enough for it to matter, and from his perspective right now, he probably thinks he was right. But I'd guess that if he knew where we were, he wouldn't mind if I showed it to you."
"Chakotay, does everything HAVE to be slightly illegal or off center? How about a nice calm legal scenario with very little drama and no adrenaline rushes for a change?"
"You'd hate it."
She laughed. "You're probably right. I can see how much you've corrupted me. All right, I admit it. I'd love to see it, legal or not. Sometime when our schedules permit."
And that brought them back to the point of the dinner. Reality, and Voyager, and responsibilities, needed to take precedence again. And schedules.
"Do you want anymore of this?" He was procrastinating, but then, that was what he did best except for crisis, and he wasn't up for one of those right now.
"No, thanks. But it was delicious."
He got up, and she joined him, companionably helping him clean up something as simple as a meal in his quarters. It gave him the confidence to follow up with his proposal. It was a long shot, but he'd lived with those all his life.
He took a deep breath, and prepared his comments carefully. "I want to thank you for taking care of my son for the last month. It's helped him, and helped me. But I'm sleeping now, and he's sleeping though the night, and I don't see how we can continue to intrude on your good nature so much."
She started to interrupt, but he stopped her. "Let me finish. I know you've developed a connection to him, and I don't want to break that. But *you* never have any free time anymore, and because he's always asleep when I have him, I can't judge very well how he's doing. And he is my responsibility. I need to know that. So I have a proposal for you that I think will work, but you're not going to like part of it."
"I'm listening."
"I'd like to give him to you for three days a week; and I'd like to have him myself for two days. That'll give you some time to yourself and give me an opportunity to have some time with him as well. The rest of it, well, the rest of it I thought we might play a day at a time."
He paused and took the plunge. She had agreed to dance with him, after all.
"For example, we might spend some of it together with him. Or, depending on schedules, each take a turn at it. You can decide on how much you want to be involved."
"Chakotay, I'm used to having him all the time off duty."
"I know, but we both know that can't continue. This way, you can have responsibility for part of the week, and choose to be involved as you like with the rest."
She looked ready to protest, so interrupted her again. "Kathryn, I appreciate your help, and I know you care about him, but I have to take back the responsibility. I'm trying to work it out with you equitably, so that you can choose how much involvement you want. But part of that is going to involve having me around, if you want to spend more time with him than I think is appropriate to allocate to anyone else."
She looked at him consideringly, and then nodded. "I can live with it. All right, I agree. But I have two conditions. On the other two nights, we take him into public situations with the crew. I want them to see that we're in agreement on integrating him into the community. Your absence hasn't helped."
"I suppose it hasn't. " He sighed, and then looked at her cynically. "I suppose I don't need to ask about the other condition."
"I never faulted you before for being slow on the uptake before."
"I'll give him a name."
"Thank you." If he was inclined towards that sort of thing, he'd have said that her smile nearly blinded him in its intensity.
He gave him a name. After some thought, he gave him his father's name. It wasn't practice on his homeworld, but it was something the Voyager crew would understand. And if he didn't survive, it was a choice he hoped his son would understand someday, given that the child was going to grow up on a ship whose crew placed emphasis on generational continuity through names. Identity and connection. He hoped his son would know that he had planned to return to Danab V and that there was a place waiting for both of them on that world. If his son made it back, the rest would be taught to him, provided the planet was still there. If it was destroyed, and the culture gone, then the child would know that he'd intended a connection for him.
At least he hoped he would. There was a chance that Kolopac would be confused because he'd broken tradition in the naming. He decided to leave a log, and tell Janeway, even though it went against his inclinations towards privacy. Some things were better said, rather than left unspoken.
He let Janeway take control of the naming ceremony after he'd thought about the expected traditions that could be adapted to fit within the context of a multicultural crew, and what had to be left private, for later. He set up conditions, and she agreed to compromise. He supposed it was progress, of a sort.
Janeway and he settled into the new schedule warily at the onset, careful of each other's privacy. On the two days of "joint custody", they took the child to dinner in the mess hall, and then to Sandrine's or the gym. She beat him at pool consistently, and occasionally, he convinced her to dance with him. In the gym, he taught her Maquis tactics, and she came back with a few moves of her own from akido that often threw him, literally.
He believed now, although she denied it, that her comments about the importance of his presence for the crew to accept the child was just smoke designed to draw him out socially. Kolopac had found his own place in the crew, with or without his approval. On Janeway's "integrate him socially days", the child was often spontaneously watched over by volunteers and returned to them later. The child was a focus and a sense of hope for many.
But his "adoption" often left him alone with Janeway for hours at a time.
And so they began to talk, when one of them wasn't picking themselves off the floor after a particularly challenging defense maneuver . He learned a great deal about her mind, and the way it worked, and found the experience fascinating. He realized now that he'd never understood her, not even on New Earth. Voyager, and science, and Starfleet were as integral to her as breathing.
She was a real scientist in the true measure of the word. He'd known a number of "brilliant" scientists in his life. They littered the Academy. In his experience, they tended to fall into three categories: "the egos" who didn't give a damn about anyone or anything who were driven by their desire for fame and success. Then there were the "pros". They were highly intelligent individuals with a focus and drive that would have made them successful in nearly any field. They'd just chosen a career in science and so learned to think that way.
Janeway was of the third group; rare, and unusual, different. She had been "born" a scientist. Methodical, oriented toward detail and practical example, and unwilling to generalize without ample proof, she had an inherent and systematically deductive approach to the world and in everything she did.
But, like all the really great scientists, her logic was cut through with moments of brilliance, usually under stress, when the solutions to a problem meant the life or death of them all and came to her in lightning fast logical connections that often left the rest of them in the dust.
Because her view of everything was inherently deductive, her social reactions and attitudes towards the crew were particularly complex. Here, she was a paradox, one even after watching her and talking to her about it, he still didn't completely understand. She was a brilliant leader, almost Machiavellian in her approach to broad general issues related to crew morale and performance. She'd be frightening to watch when maneuvering through political situations with HQ.
But at the personal level, she was a mystery. Part of it was learned. He knew from discussions about her past that she'd grown up - trained, really -in the highly complex political structure of Starfleet HQ. On the surface, she was charismatic, poised, and confident, able to say the right thing instantly to create a "community" and a sense of belonging and to leave each individual feeling like they'd had personal contact with the Captain, a captain who "understood". And yet, he knew her well enough now to understand that it was all completely distant to her. The crew viewed her separation from them as being appropriate; she was "the captain". He supposed another part of her style came from command training as well. But he'd taken the same courses, commanded his own ship, and knew that it wasn't simply learned. The training had served to enhance characteristics and tendencies inherent in her psychological make-up.
In personnel situations one to one with the crew, she treated each incident as unique, not to be generalized into supposed patterns of behavior, or predictable outcomes. It was outside of her character to engage in any sort of "gossip", or assumptions about crewmembers attitudes towards each other.
Not that she was unobservant. She just didn't discuss it or generalize in any way. In many respects, he thanked the gods for her approach. Another captain, one with preconceived views or who generalized more, would never have accepted the Maquis as easily as she had.
But it had also made life as her XO difficult. At first, her silence and distance had bothered him. It was highly unusual in command crews. He thought she'd been testing him or just didn't trust him. Not letting him into the plans for the search for a spy on Voyager had left him jumpy for months, speculating on her reasons. Now that he knew her mind, and the way it worked, he was certain that her attitudes toward him and his performance as XO had been reactions to each incident individually as it occurred. There were no generalizations or personal opinions or suspicions that were being withheld. She simply didn't have any except about the specifics of an incident at hand. She was totally objective, and distant. They were completely opposite in that.
He hadn't joined Starfleet for the science, although he was adept enough at the basics in nearly any area of the ship. He'd joined because of his fascination with other cultures and individuals reactions to the cultures. He'd been around long enough to believe that in group behavior, there were patterns, predictable attitudes, and sometimes with careful thought about the politics of a situation, problems could be end-run before they started. Very soft science, from her view, but there was a logic to it. It was imperfect. Sometimes he guessed wrong, and something blew up, but more often than not he guessed right.
It was a sore point in communication between them. He couldn't even begin to explain to her why he set up the duty rosters the way he did; she'd think he was out of his mind. Maybe he was. But it was better to be careful than sorry later. He had his own blind spots, usually when he was personally involved somehow ...Seska.. he'd missed it completely. Unbelievably stupid, no matter what she said; at least that was how he felt about it still.
Knowing her now, he understood why the biggest professional conflicts between them had been over his responses to the "blow ups" between crew members. He was in charge of crew discipline, and after incidents he preferred to get to the root of the problem, discover the cause and solve that. She saw no logic in it, seeing each incident as separate, and something that should be handled on a one-time basis, with discipline, if necessary, and then left alone. Her approach would have worked perfectly on a Starfleet ship in the alpha quadrant, but out here, with such a multicultural crew, it made his job a great deal more complex, although she backed his decisions once made. Starfleet protocol. And so he usually tried to get the decision made before she even heard of the problem.
But the end result was that he had absolutely no idea what she really thought of people. Even of him. Especially of him, because his view of that was clouded by his own emotions. The maneuvering she'd gone through with Kolopac was typical. Identify the problem, select a solution, and use Machiavellian tactics, if necessary, to assure that the process was complete. Objective, and distant, although he suspected she'd surprised herself in how much she'd become attached to the child. And he thought he saw signs that she saw him as a friend, and an acceptable companion, lately.
He'd hoped to continue to get to know her better. Then the Delta quadrant blew up on them, and there was no time to concentrate on anything except survival.
TBC …
