The Journey Begins
The petite woman in command red, emanating authority despite her diminutive figure, placed her hands on her hips and remarked softly so that only the man next to her could hear, "Well, this Suspiria has destroyed our only foreseeable way home, we've made an enemy of the Kazon and a ship has been lost. What a day," Kathryn Janeway looked at the former captain of the Maquis ship, the Liberty. "Speaking of which, you and I need to have a talk about it, and everything else that led up to this very complicated point. But"- she raised her voice and addressed the Maquis crewmember at the helm, who she had trusted to fly her ship after the most bizarre set of circumstances-"Ms Ryka, set a course for the Alpha Quadrant," Janeway commanded.
"Way ahead of you, Ma'am," Krystani Ryka looked back at the Starfleet captain, grinning. Sighing, Janeway folded her arms and admonished her:
"This could not be classed as crunch-time, Ms Ryka."
Ryka looked thoughtful. "One of us needs to change our definition, I guess."
"Do it."
Looking innocent, the woman turned back to her station. Janeway rolled her eyes before indicating to the side of the bridge.
"My ready room," she said, walking away.
Chakotay watched her then, with narrowed eyes, followed her. She hadn't commanded him; that would have raised his hackles over the issue. Yet it hadn't been a question either. This woman certainly appeared to possess all the qualities of an excellent captain- she fairly radiated all the superior principles and values Starfleet worked to instil in its cadets, giving the image of a sincere and honorable woman whose integrity was beyond reproach. Almost a little too good to be true, in fact.
He rolled his eyes, much as she had moments before. He couldn't afford to be cynical and uncompromising, not now that the time had come to see whether his impressions of her would stand true, when now was the time to try and ensure the wellbeing of his crew in this unenviable situation they found themselves in. How did we end up here, anyway? Chakotay wondered with more than a touch of exhaustion.
Janeway crossed over to her replicator, offering him as she went, "Coffee?"
He shook his head. "No. Thanks."
She eyed him speculatively. "You don't like it?"
"Never touch the stuff."
"I see," Janeway nodded, musing, "that's going to make things difficult. Another drink then? Earl Grey, perhaps?"
Chakotay shook his head, and then, feeling it was rather abrupt, shrugged and said, "I'm not very thirsty."
She continued smoothly, sitting on the couch and motioning for him to join her, "Sit down for a while. It's been a long day- one or two days, at any rate, if not more. Time does fly on a starship, given the artificial surroundings, and the night cycle simulations do little good at red alert."
Chakotay recalled that almost eerie feeling of desertion when the lights were dimmed to indicate nighttime, hardly any crewmembers were around and those few on duty mostly kept quiet, dreaming away the shift rather than talk and break the spell. An archaic Starfleet tradition from a couple hundred years ago, when the first crews to set out into space needed some sort of stability in their environment to remind them of home when venturing into such alien territories.
Sipping her coffee, Janeway went on, saying ruefully, "I hate to talk shop at the one moment we've been able to snatch from this very hectic misadventure so far, but I'd be interested in how you think we should handle the current state of affairs."
He looked over at her, wondering what she was leaving unsaid.
"What your feelings are about the course of action I should take," Janeway finished.
"My feelings," he repeated flatly.
"Mm-hum," she said, finishing off her coffee.
"Oh, you mean regarding the Maquis? So you're not going to just toss us in the brig, forget about us for the next, oh, seventy years and then hand us over to Starfleet when we reach the Alpha Quadrant?" he said wryly.
"Optimism, that'll come in handy," Janeway nodded again. "And no," she added, "I wasn't planning on taking that course of action."
Again, there was the sense of her leaving things unsaid, things that hung between them as an almost tangible entity, causing sudden annoyance to rise in Chakotay at the manner in which Janeway was playing games. "Yes, I can see how that would be impractical. A strain on resources, the constant threat of insurrection, not to mention the declining morale of your own crew, who I doubt would enjoy the idea of entertaining 'guests' on the trip back."
She appeared startled at his words.
"Captain"- she began, then paused, wincing with him at the memory of what had happened to his ship.
"I suppose, being without a ship, you can forgo the address," he said, voice neutral again, with some slight difficulty. The implications of the loss of his ship had occupied him all this while, but the personal repercussions were only just hitting him.
"I am sorry for your loss," Janeway said soberly, without the slightest hint of mockery in her voice.
"What happens to us now?" he changed the topic.
"What would you say if I suggested merging our two crews?"
Her tone, so casual in the introduction of such an idea, had Chakotay feeling like choking on the travesty. He studied her incredulously, but only saw determination and resolve. Janeway was deadly serious- and she was waiting for an answer.
"I'd say," Chakotay also managed a suitably casual manner, "that it's so crazy, it just might work." He could sense her triumph, suppressed as it was, and added honestly, "Also that if we had to be stranded out here with any Starfleet captain, we're lucky it was you, because I have a hard time imagining anyone else giving us that kind of deal." His preconception of her was certainly going to have to change; in no assessment of her character had this reckless, 'all-or-nothing' trait of hers jumped out at him.
"Firstly, this 'us' and 'them' has to stop if we're going to have one united crew- though I anticipate an outcry about that, from both sides." Janeway nodded, "And of course I reciprocate in kind; I can't imagine any other Maquis cell leader I'd rather have been assigned to capture," there was a mischievous gleam in her eyes, and she added, "Although I must warn you, I am determined to address the issue of your coffee aversion, with the intention of changing your position regarding it."
"Well, no doubt you'll have time for it on the way home," he replied gravely.
There was an expression of mock aghast on her face. "You don't honestly believe it will take me seventy years to force"- she smiled sweetly, "that is, convert, you over to my way of thinking?"
"Oh, no, of course not. What was I thinking?" Chakotay said dryly. He shook his head, "Is this the way things are decided in Starfleet these days?"
"You better believe it."
They shared a grin.
Janeway stood. "Shall we break it to the masses, then?" she said.
"They're not going to take it very well," he predicted as they left together.
The members of the former two crews, now one, couldn't believe what they were hearing. A truce? Reconciliation? When Starfleet and Maquis were as far removed from each other as could be, when the two groups of people had such vastly different beliefs and values? Each side, of course, was convinced that their side had the right of it, and several slanging matches broke out.
However, Janeway and Chakotay, already an impressive command team, would have none of it and quelled the rebellious members in short notice. Her tone brooked no retorts as she outlined what little she and Chakotay had agreed upon, that the ship would be run as a Starfleet ship, following Starfleet protocols- this did provoke mutters, of course, from the former Maquis. She stressed that no one would be prejudiced against because of their background when it came to assigning positions on the ship- resulting in murmurs of disapproval from the original Starfleet. What she avoided discussing was the uniform policy.
Janeway was aware that the amalgam would be troublesome enough; insisting the former Maquis wore a uniform for an organization most of them viewed with distrust, if not outright opposed would be asking for mutiny. Chakotay had impressed that on her, though she did not read any threat in his words, accepting it as a recommendation that her new First Officer was entitled to make. Although she did not agree with it totally, preferring not to have visible divisions in the crew, she knew it was a battle she was best to avoid. Trying to make the former Maquis conform to their new positions on Voyager when many of them were not even familiar with the protocols and regulations on a Starfleet ship would only provoke mutiny.
But despite the discord in the air, not all were against the merge. When the tension and rising level of hostility in the atmosphere seemed close to robbing the senses of some of the more self-righteous in the crowd, Torres stepped in, effective in shouting down any who tried to protest. Ryka, seemingly a good friend of Torres' was right beside her in shutting up the most passionate protesters and Janeway noticed with amusement that not many dared to stand up the two women.
Janeway appreciated that Ryka, in particular was openly supporting her, even after rejoining her crewmates. In the short time when she had been discovered on board after the Caretaker mistakenly returned her to the wrong ship, Ryka had gained Janeway's trust and made a favourable impression. She was skilled at the helm, open-minded and cooperative, and very persuasive when it came to the subduing dissenters. She could handle a position of responsibility on the ship.
Chakotay then began an impromptu speech.
"Everyone, here's the lesson for today: Life isn't fair. Nobody planned to be picked up and deposited halfway across the universe. But it happened," Janeway noticed he looked around, making eye contact with everyone. "We're going to have to be pragmatic about this twist, because it's not going to disappear like a bad dream. It seems that the way to handle this is to merge the two crews and unfortunately, some of you have decided that that isn't what you wanted, as has been demonstrated by some," there was a grim emphasis on the last word, suggesting that those who took that position would be encouraged to change it- or else. Janeway wondered what was going to come next; his lip curled as he continued simply, "Tough.
"We need to be united, one crew in truth, if we're going to make it through this in one piece. Some days are going to be like this one, worse, and if we don't build on a strong foundation," he shrugged, "we'll die. So have the good grace to co-operate with each other, be nice and don't break too many bones- because one day, it'll be that person you can't stand that you'll be counting on to haul your ass out of whatever mess we happen to be in at the time." Chakotay looked at her, raising his brows. She smiled faintly. "So," he reiterated, "play nicely all of you."
After one last sweeping glance at their captive audience, he waved their attention back to her and she detailed what would have to be done. The emergency medical hologram, as the entire medical staff was deceased, was going to process the additions to the crew and conduct basic check-ups while some of the Starfleet officers cleared out the quarters of those original Voyager members who had died on or since their arrival in the Delta Quadrant.
Thankfully, Janeway thought, despite Voyager's relatively small dimensions that characterised the sleek design of the Intrepid-class ships, she was more than large enough to accommodate the entire crew complement to the extent that each crewmember could have their own room. That was a luxury that many on other vessels such as the Galaxy-class were not afforded.
She wound up her speech, saying simply. "Dismissed." The Starfleet members automatically turned to leave, conditioned to respond, and even some of the ex-Maquis reacted to the firm, authoritative tone in her voice. At this instinctive movement, both the groups looked at each other in appraisal, then in mutual accord for once, looked past each other and filed out without fuss.
Janeway let out a sigh, lowering her head to her hand in a moment of weariness. "If it weren't that I don't believe in lost causes," she said, voice a little muffled, "I would be more than a little discouraged at the moment."
"Sleep on it?" her First Officer said with a note of wistfulness.
She shot him a wry look. "Don't go leading me astray, Mr Chakotay. We have too much work for that now. And believe me, I'll be keeping your nose firmly to the grindstone."
Chakotay sighed as well as he led the way to the door. "This is why you resorted to coffee, isn't it?"
The Captain clapped a hand on his back. "Such a bright mind you have. I knew you'd figure it out sometime. Come on, my quarters. You need to brief me on my new crewmembers. We need an official crew complement. Positions must be filled, people need to be assigned to departments, ascribed replicator and holodeck and assorted privileges," she whirled on him. "Are you reconsidering yet?"
He looked resigned. "It seems I'm going to have to get used to receiving what I formerly used to dish out."
"Highly enjoyable being the First Officer, isn't it?"
"Captain," he ventured with slight curiosity, as they entered the turbolift. "What would you have done if our roles were reversed? If it were my ship we were on now and I was in command?"
She looked at him for a long moment, and he almost thought she would answer him. Then the door slid open and she moved out, smiling enigmatically, "That's the nice thing about being Captain. You don't have to answer things you don't want to."
Chakotay stared after her, shaking his head. "It's going to be a long night," he murmured to himself as he followed the woman he now called Captain.
