Disclaimer: Paramount owns Voyager. I'm just taking the crew out for a spin.
Set following "State of Flux", season one, episode eleven.
Feedback always welcome.
Comfort
Harry was at Ops when it all took place.
Was second only to the command team and their security detail in learning that Seska had left the ship.
Seska, who'd teased and flirted and leaned closer, conspiratorially seeking juicy tidbits about his love life, about him.
Seska, who'd joined him countless times in the mess hall, in the holodeck, for the sake of simple companionship.
Seska, his friend.
And as he left the bridge that day, the story began to fill itself in, piece by improbable piece. Seska the Cardassian spy. Seska the traitor.
The rumours, the truths...they spread so fast it nearly winded him.
People whispered in the corridors, sidled up in the lifts. The mess hall was positively abuzz with what little they'd all been able to glean.
Harry lost his appetite.
He paced his quarters and battled demons on the holodeck.
None of it made any sense.
Seska was a Cardassian spy. That one was easiest to believe. She'd infiltrated the Maquis ship to serve her people. He could understand that. Relate, even.
But a traitor?
What was the point, so far from home?
Harry paced.
Why the Kazon? They were brutish, technologically primitive, politically fractured.
Not exactly ideal allies, even for a Cardassian.
Were they simply canon fodder for a planned take-over of the ship? Expendables to secure herself a faster way home?
Would she kill to take the ship? Could she?
He'd counted her among his friends. Had she done the same?
Harry's feet carried him blindly.
Had anyone ever really known the real Seska?
Every smile, every laugh, every playful touch...it was going to haunt him, now.
He'd always thought he was a pretty good judge of character. Had any of it been real? The camaraderie, the laughter...Could it all have been an act?
He tried to stop, but couldn't sleep.
Six hours on the bridge, two in his quarters...an hour fighting demons...he'd lost track of time. Pacing, wondering, berating, loathing. He would have to be on the bridge again in a few hours, but there would be no rest.
He needed to talk. To vent. Rage. Despair.
He needed someone who would understand.
Harry glanced around the corridor. Wrong section.
Letting his feet guide him, he went to the only other person he knew would understand.
He went to Seska's closest friend.
Harry hadn't seen B'eLanna since before the news had broke, and that was saying something. He was fairly certain he'd paced the length and breadth of the ship twice over by now, without so much as a trace of the Chief Engineer.
Stopping outside B'eLanna's quarters, he rang the chime.
He was answered by something heavy hitting the still sealed door. He rang again.
Something else shattered against the barrier between them, accompanied by a barely muffled stream of Klingon curses.
He'd definitely come to the right place.
The door slid open, revealing a fuming B'eLanna Torres.
She was a formidable sight. A sight for sore eyes.
Her rage emanated the way his seethed. She embodied his frustration, his powerlessness.
"Here to round up the rest of the Maquis 'traitors', Starfleet?," she spat, glowering at him from across the room.
"No, I..."
"Of all the self-centered, idiotic Cardassian schemes...This one takes the cake. Selling us out to the Kazon? What the hell was she thinking?"
"I don't know," Harry said, stepping cautiously inside. The doors swished shut behind him, sealing him in with her fury. He let it wash over him. a catharsis for his own turmoil.
"I know you Federation types all see the Maquis as some sort of criminals, but I hope this proves to you just how underhanded the Cardassians can be!"
She was pacing, had probably been doing so just as long as he himself... Only now, angry words spilled faster than her feet could move.
"Two years, Starfleet. She had us all fooled. How many of my friends have died because of information she fed back to the Cardassians? How many innocent people, the very people we were fighting to save? I've seen things, Starfleet. Things no one should ever have to see. How much of it was because of her?"
"I don't know," he said softly, his own turmoil quieted in the face of this storm.
"And now the Kazon?," she fumed. "At least as a Cardassian spy she was being true to her own people. But this? Who does this serve?"
"I don't know."
"God. I can't even imagine how Chakotay must feel right now," she chocked, clamping down on her tirade.
She stopped, momentarily, only to resume the relentless rhythm of barely suppressed rage once more.
"You're not the only one who feels this way, Torres. A lot of us are just as shocked and upset as you," he said, realizing the truth in his own words.
She'd betrayed them, all of them. Everyone on the ship must feel this way, to some extent or another.
"What do you know, Starfleet?," she growled. "What do you know of Seska's betrayal?"
"Look, Maquis," he said, grabbing her attention on the defensive, "You're not alone."
"What do you want from me, Harry?," she demanded, her face crumpling as her Klingon anger began to evaporate into very human pain.
"Nothing," he reassured softly. "I came as a friend, B'eLanna. Nothing more."
Her pacing stopped as she rounded on him, glaring even as tears filled her eyes. "Not even you could be naive enough to take me on as a friend," she shot back.
"Maybe I am," he replied, ignoring the insult. "Or maybe," he continued, braving a step forward, "You're not as scary as you think you are. And just maybe, I understand how you feel."
A tear spilled down her cheek, which she brushed roughly away.
"She was my friend, Harry," she chocked, another tear streaking past her Klingon defenses.
"I know. I may not have known her as long as you, but she was my friend too."
More tears spilled over as her human half seized control.
"I just can't believe...," she sobbed, stopping mid-sentence.
"I know. I feel the same way," he reassured, gingerly taking another step forward. "She fooled us all. I even overheard Tuvok admit as much to the Commander."
"Damn Vulcan," she muttered, reigning in her tears. "Always so smug, so sure."
"And just as blindsided by this as we are," Harry finished. She took a deep breath, steadying herself.
"So what happens now?," she asked. "Are we all under suspicion again, the way we were in the beginning?"
"No. And to prove it, I'd like to ask my Maquis friend to join me in the mess hall for a late meal."
"I hate Neelix's cooking."
"So do I. But it's just one more thing we can bond over."
She sniffled, a small, watery smile cracking her Klingon facade. Then, before he knew what was coming, she wrapped him in a bone-crushing hug.
"Thank you," she whispered, releasing him a moment later.
"Anytime," he replied sincerely, glad his feet had found their way.
It wasn't over, not by a long stretch. But Harry was sure now that Seska wouldn't be their undoing, no matter her intent.
One ship. One crew. No more lies.
