Beth6787
March 2018
Hindsight
A sequel to 'Collateral Damage'. The events of Endgame happen as in canon. Is there a way back for J/C ? ...
She collapsed onto the sofa for possibly the last time. The evidence of Captain Janeway's journey through the Delta Quadrant, and by extension, her life - if she could really call it that - sat in boxes piled at her feet marked 'Ready Room 1 through goodness knows what'. Suffice to say that they sat in accusatory stacks : the hard copy of all her mistakes. Waiting to condemn her publically for all that she had long since hanged herself for in private.
The others had all now disembarked to Starfleet HQ and the Fleet logistics team were just waiting for her to follow suite, before finally clearing the last of the 'cargo' from Voyager. Then the temporary crew would board and she would be flown to Utopia Planatia for decommissioning. At least Admiral Paris had allowed her the courtesy of waiting for her disembarkation before the temporary command team boarded. She could not face handing over command on the Bridge of her own ship. At least that would now be done at HQ.
Her ship...Voyager was more than that. Voyager was her home. Had become so over the last seven and a half years. First by necessity and then, over time, by choice. She belonged here. Not down there. It was ironic. She had spent the last seven years boosting morale with umpteen 'pep talks' to the crew, both communally and individually, promising to get them home : to Earth. Yet, now that she was here, it was blatantly obvious to her that this planet had become a psychological crutch. Something...hypothetical...a convenient ghost from the past to give her Voyager family a common gaol. A cause , if you like, to strive for. To keep them together. So now what? No family and ...no home either.
And she had brought it all on herself. Here in the cold and unforgiving light of lunar spacedock she stared, at the haunted ghost in an outdated Captain's uniform, reflected forlornly back at her. She was alone. Finally and absolutely alone. More so than she had ever been out there. She had lost him - and now she knew why.
'They'; 'The Command Team' ; 'Kathryn & Chakotay' : were no more. Had unravelled in an instant. The moment B'Elanna told him of her discovery. She did not blame B'Elanna, if the tables had been turned then she hoped fervently that she would have had the decency to do the same. The fault was entirely hers. But her former friend and Chief Engineer had been ultimately wrong. Even the Captain would not have ordered her to keep quiet, yet alone Kathryn. Oh, no doubt Kathryn would have begged her to whereas the Captain would have resorted to that old chestnut of doing what was in the best interests of their Voyager family. Of Chakotay.
But that wasn't really the truth was it? She, Kathryn, could not stand the thought of Seska having the ultimate hold over the man she loved. Seska's eyes staring back at her - taunting - ever time she saw Chakotay holding that baby. The child she had so desperately wanted to be able to share with him, conceived in love. Not forced on him by a woman he despised. And as the child grew, his Cardassian features emerging, how would he have been received? Could Chakotay have truly loved him? The ultimate reminder of Seska's duplicity, the seed of the race that destroyed everything he held dear. And what of the other former Maquis? No. She had not been entirely selfish, she had done what she had for the cohesion of their Voyager family and, for that, she would never be sorry.
But Chakotay had not seen the bigger picture. He had only seen the loss of his son. Possibly the only child he would ever have. The choice taken from him by her deception. At least that is what she assumed. She did not know for sure. How could she? Chakotay had never said a word to her. He had just withdrawn his support, his friendship, and ultimately his love. And she had been oblivious until the Admiral had shattered her private world into a billion pieces during their little 'walk and talk'. Had he known that she would spill the beans? He was hurting, wanted revenge for what he saw as her duplicity...her manipulation. So what better revenge than using her protege, her surrogate daughter, her... 'child' ?
So, Chakotay had started dating Seven. Maybe, in some sick way, he had even deluded himself that he was in love with her. Though Kathryn knew the truth, even if the Admiral and Captain did not. He was hurting her the only way that was truly left. By erasing their future and ensuring that history repeated itself. The Admiral may have gotten them back to the Alpha Quadrant sixteen years earlier but that just meant sixteen less years with her Voyager family and sixteen more alone in that Admiralty apartment overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge. Another sixteen years of emptiness and regret : staring back at her every time she stood by the window, trusty coffee mug in hand. Her only source of warmth from now on.
—
Four weeks later...
The debriefings were over for everyone except Captain Janeway. The former Maquis and Equinox crews had been discharged the service. The Maquis honourably, with full back pay for the entire duration of service in the Delta Quadrant and the Equinox crew had been spared a court martial on condition that their Starfleet service records were marked accordingly and that they would never serve in space again, in any capacity.
So they had all dispersed, back to what remained of their former lives. Some to family and friends here on Earth and others to their various home worlds and colonies across the Quadrant. She knew that Chakotay had headed out towards the Bajoran sector a few days ago, without so much as a goodbye to anyone, and that Seven was visiting her aunt in Sweden. Presumably trying to reconnect with her roots. B'Elanna and Tom had no idea about the state of play between her and Chakotay but 'Lanna secretly suspected that Seven had no more idea of his plans than the rest of them.
Having finally settled Miral for the night B'Elanna was curled up on the couch, planning to read one of her Klingon romance novels. There had been so many new ones published since they had left that there was enough to keep her happy for many months ahead. But her heart was not in it. Every time she started to read the subject matter it sent her mind reeling back to the plight of two of her dearest friends : Chakotay & Kathryn. Yes, Kathryn too. She still thought that the Captain had made the wrong decision - and for highly questionable motives - but she couldn't help empathising too. The wrong decision was to steal Chakotay's autonomy from him. Not necessarily to leave Seska's child with Maj Cullah and the Nistrim. B'Elanna certainly didn't relish the idea of a half Cardassian child with Seska's personality traits running loose around Voyager's decks for the last several years. Besides, this was not the first time that Kathryn Janeway had faced such a dilemma.
B'Elanna's mind cast her back towards the beginning of their Delta Quadrant odyssey. When Tom Paris had broken the warp 10 barrier and gained his place in space flight history. They had all been so thrilled initially...until the full ramifications came to light. And the whole bizarre episode had resulted in Tom & Kathryn producing four 'offspring'. It had been possible for the Doctor to re-sequence Tom and Kathryn's DNA from their medical files and Transporter buffer profiles. Of course, no such templates existed for their young but it may have been possible in time. Had the Captain decided to set up a suitable environment for the juvenile amphibians in the cargo bay and taken them along for the journey home.
What if she had done just that and succeeded? Kathryn Janeway & Tom Paris would now be the proud parents of five year old quadruplets. So she and Tom would never have gotten together, married and started a family of their own. If the Captain could sacrifice her four 'children' for the good of the ship and crew had she not just made the same decision with Chakotay and Seska's son?
So what to do now? Chakotay had left without so much as a goodbye to anyone and Kathryn Janeway was still being interrogated for every decision she ever made out there. By sanctimonious popinjays who would not have survived for one year, yet alone over seven, in her opinion. And she should know : she had been there every step of the way, holding that ship together - almost literally - by the skin of her teeth during crises too numerous to recall. So abandoned by the love of her life and torn to shreds by the organisation she had moulded her whole philosophy of life upon : what was left for the woman who had given her all for others? She did not know how to repair the damage but she was at least partly culpable. After all, she could have made the other decision. The pragmatic one : and corrected the imperfections in the Doctor's amended memory files. Chakotay would never have known that Seska succeeded in her plan and Kathryn Janeway would now be starting that life she had clung to the possibility of for all those years. It was the Maquis way. Since when had she morphed into a 'Starfleet Brat' ? Just how much had she changed since becoming a Torres-Paris? And had she lost more than she had gained?
—
Chakotay crawled along the access way between the inner walls of the freighter and the outer hull plating. It was cramped and suffocatingly hot, not to mention claustrophobic in the extreme. Still, he had no choice in the matter, having paid for his passage in this dilapidated tug offering his services as a fix-it man. A freelance engineer in the loosest sense of the word. Canon fodder to the vagaries of space flight. So here he was, replacing burned out circuitry whilst in flight mode, with no safety protocols whatsoever. If the hull punctured, as it was frequently apt to do on the slightest impact from space dust : he was toast. The deflector was - intermittently - sufficiently charged to generate a field, but it was sporadic at best and would not deflect anything greater than ten grams in weight. So a small asteroid, chunk of ice or even a dense cloud of cosmic dust would consign his body to the ether.
So, if by some miracle this thing held together long enough to reach it's destination he would alight at the space port on Taglin II, the last outpost before entering Cardassian held territory. Even now, after the decimation of the Dominion War. He had heard word that Haglar may still be based there. It was a long shot but worth a try. After all, he really had nothing left to lose. It was all gone. Seven, the least of those loses ...Kathryn whom he had thought his soulmate and his pre-destined future...and his only child. His son. The greatest loss of all. But to have to reconcile that irreplaceable loss with the fact that Kathryn was it's cause? Inconceivable. All he knew was that in order to survive, to... keep his sanity, he needed to find a purpose for what was left of his life. He would search for his son. It was an exercise in futility, he knew deep inside, but there was a long shot. So long to be infinitesimally small but still...Haglar was it. He would have to sell his soul to the highest bidder and cast aside any remaining vestiges of Starfleet ideals and morality. But if Haglar still traded in outlawed and officially non existent Romulan espionage technology...
He made it out of the aft junction hatch just before the outer hull section breached and the forcefield cut in. But not before he had sustained some nasty burns to his hands and face. Well, with no dermal regenerator it would have to heal the old fashioned away. At least he would now fit right in with the likes that frequented that God forsaken place he was bound for.
—-
So history would not repeat itself. At least for her. She would never achieve the rank of Admiral, not with the verdict of the debriefing panel that had just been officially incorporated into her service record. They had - begrudgingly - allowed her to retain her rank of Captain but she would be under constant supervision for the next three years. Working in tandem with another Captain who would outrank her. She would be in a subordinate role for the next several missions with no room to manoeuvre and no autonomy. Everything by the book. That or resign her commission. Having delivered their scathing verdict they then had the audacity to inform her that she was to give a series of interviews as the 'returning heroine' having beaten all the odds : due entirely to her extensive Starfleet training and discipline of course! No credit for her own ingenuity, for 'thinking outside the box' and absolutely no mention of Maquis tactics saving the day. Although without both Chakotay and B'Elanna's unique takes on so many situations none of them would be sitting here today.
So, sell out all her friends and colleagues and play 'poster girl' for Starfleet whilst being professionally subjugated : or resign the service and start a whole new life...doing what exactly? If she was no longer Starfleet what was left of her? All that she had had before Voyager had long since vanished into the mists of time and vagaries of fate. Now all she had were Starfleet and Chakotay. Only she no longer desired the former and had lost the latter to an error of judgment that she could not now rectify.
As she forced her mind back to the present and looked at the assembled panel of Starfleet and Federation representatives sitting in a semi circle on the raised platform in front of her : the decision was made. She said not a word as she approached the Chair. Looking the Fleet Admiral in the eyes and never wavering, she slowly removed the four pips from her collar then placed them on the table in front of him. Then turned and walked out without glancing back : so ending twenty seven years of service and burying Captain Janeway for good.
—-
Haglar was dead, some time ago. No one knew - or at least admitted to - the details. But there was always another scumbag ready and waiting to fill the shoes of the last. Besides, it didn't really matter as long as the contact on Deep Space 9 was still Quark. He heard through the grapevine that Quark's nemesis, the changing Constable Odo, had returned to his people in the Gamma Quadrant and would not be back. There was now a Bajoran Constable in charge but he was a lightweight and no problem for Quark to deceive. So, the latest scumbag running things on Taglin II was Ro'ak, ironically a half Cardassian, half Bajoran product of the occupation. He was young, mid twenties at most, but had inherited a ruthless streak from his Cardassian soldier father and the bitterness of his mother's suffering as a 'comfort woman'. So volatile...
As far as Chakotay was concerned it just meant that he would have to bide his time, gain the lad's confidence, then access to his contact in the Tal Shiar. His boy would already be five years old, six in a couple of months time, yet he had never set eyes on him. Raised, no doubt, to be a Kazon Nistrim Warrior. Chakotay wondered whether he even knew he had had a non Kazon mother? He certainly would not know of his human father. And it would likely be another year or two before he would be in a position to put his plan into action.
Some plan at that! More like a vague hope. That the rumours were true. That the Tal Shiar had developed technology that punctured wormholes through subspace. He had the spatial coordinates of the Nistrim territory, initially from Voyager's relatively primitive stellar cartography lab and later in far more detail from the Astrometrics array technology that Seven had developed. Combined with Seven's uniquely vast repository of Borg knowledge he was sure that he would have enough data not only to create a passageway to the right region of space but also to locate his boy. A bio marker tag could be developed using the medical DNA codes for both himself and Seska which Voyager's EMH would still retain access to. He just had to get the Doctor on board with the idea once he had acquired the technology. He was confident that Annika would help him. Apart from B'Elanna, the Doctor and Captain Janeway, Annika was the only other person who knew the truth. She had been furious to discover that the person she had considered her most trusted confidant was capable of such deception, such duplicity. And Annika was very fond of the Doctor too. Although she did not reciprocate his more amorous feelings, she did consider him a very dear friend. And to think that Captain Janeway was capable of manipulating his memories...his mind...at whim, had shocked and disgusted her in equal measure. Annika also thought the Captain had made the wrong call. The baby was Chakotay's son and therefore it should have been Chakotay's choice where he was raised and by whom. Annika had told him how angry and abused the Doctor had felt when he discovered the truth so Chakotay felt that his cooperation would likely be a given. So now, just a matter of locating this Ro'ak and offering his services.
The old tug lurched hard as it 'landed' on the only pad still operational in the dilapidated and almost deserted space port. As he and the other fix-it men struggled to lever the bay doors open they were met by the smog and acrid smell of rotting supplies left to fester from the last transport. Coughing and squinting into the early morning crimson haze of the red dwarf star that - just about - kept this planet alive he hoisted his backpack and made for the squalid outskirts of the city where Ro'ak plied his trade.
—
Kathryn Janeway opened the door to her old house and took in her surroundings. It was a time warp. Everything was just as she had left it on 13th October 2371. Even that day's newspaper was still neatly folded on the coffee table. There was little sign of dust, no one having ventured over the threshold in almost all that time. Obviously Mark had cleared the fridge and kitchen cupboards of perishables once Voyager had been first declared lost. Eventually the services had been suspended and it had taken her most of the last week to get everything re-initialised. It was apparent to her that she would need to re-locate in the near future should she want any peace and privacy. She had been an ordinary citizen, firmly under the radar, when she last resided here. Now she was famous : whether she liked it or not. Under the circumstances, that was just another dreaded trial to endure. Still - she had resigned her commission and so was no longer entitled to Starfleet accommodation although, given her unique circumstances, Owen Paris had insisted that she still retain her Starfleet security detail for the foreseeable future.
Her future? Whatever that held. At the moment she was still shell-shocked and could not contemplate giving the matter any serious thought. Besides, with eight years back pay for a 365 day year : 24/7 that was a small fortune. She had more than enough material resources to last her the rest of her life so there was no hurry on that score.
Time was only pressing if she chose to pursue Chakotay.
B'Elanna had obviously been talking to Tom. She couldn't blame them, they were wife and husband after all. She surmised that they had come to the joint conclusion that all was not lost with regards to her friendship with Chakotay. Bent, cracked and distorted beyond measure : but not actually broken. Though whether Chakotay would see things that way she was not so sure. Perhaps a little distance and time would give them both a chance to heal and some perspective...or perhaps it would kill their connection stone dead for good. She had no idea but she did know that he had headed out to the Bajoran sector a few days ago.
Neither B'Elanna or Tom had heard from him directly and it seemed that it was vague second hand hearsay from Seven. Considering Chakotay and Seven were still involved - as least she had to assume so - then Seven would hardly encourage her interference. And the Doctor was still furious at her tampering with his program: yet again. She couldn't blame him, after all his angst concerning the death of Ensign Jetal and his Captain's subsequent behaviour. At least her motives had been selfless that time but with Seska's baby she had to admit there was a strong element of self interest, self preservation to be absolutely honest.
So here she was. Standing in this mausoleum of a house, frozen in time, wondering how to start the clocking ticking again. First things first. Unpack the sparse possessions she had been allowed to retain from her quarters and Ready Room then order some groceries. She would then sleep on it and hope and pray that the dawn would bring some much needed clarity.
—-
He had found digs above a seedy bar that Ro'ak and his associates were known to frequent. Each day and night had followed the same pattern so far. During the day he worked at the shuttle port, at least what was left of it, in exchange for a few credits. He had fallen back on his old story about being a displaced colonist who was now homeless and moved about the sector wherever there were rumours of work to be had. He was a 'fix-it' man, a basic knowledge of engineering learned through bitter experience of keeping the old freight tugs from disintegrating in deep space. Actually, that story bode true for a lot of the former Maquis, and with his newly acquired facial and forearm scars, visually : he fit the bill. No one asked questions and no one seemed to notice him which was just as he had planned. During the evenings he sat in the bar below his squalid temporary digs, obstensibly just killing time with a beer or two, but in reality surreptitiously observing the comings and goings. Ro'ak had appeared on the fourth night and spent no more than five minutes with his contact. But it was enough for Chakotay. The man in question was staying in the same dump as him. Room two doors down the corridor. So, now all he had to do was buy the guy a beer and drop into the conversation a little of his 'history'. Just enough of a hint to make Ro'ak bite ...
Five nights later, as he was cutting through the back alleys after his shift at the port, Ro'ak stepped out of the shadows. "Amal Kotay?" Chakotay just grunted "Maybe ...who's asking?"
"I hear you have some ...unusual talents...talents that could make you indispensable to the right people. You want well paid work?...where your talents will be appreciated...then follow me."
Phase one of my mission accomplished he thought to himself as he followed Ro'ak into the smog.
—-
Eleven days later...
Mark had just called to confirm that the sale was completed and that he had transferred the credits into her bank account. She still felt guilty about extracting yet another favour, so long after they had all moved on with their lives, but he had been more than happy to oblige. Selling the property in the name of Johnson had kept the press away and allowed her to relocate discreetly. Most of the contents had been sold with the house and the few personal possessions she had retained would easily fit into the one bedroomed apartment she had just leased for the next twelve months. Again, this had been done through an agent for a Miss Martha Johnson, Mark's fictitious sister. So, she now had an assumed identity should she need to travel anonymously. Reg Barclay had assisted her in creating a very convoluted, encrypted, transfer trail for her finances so she could access the funds of Kathryn Janeway via her new persona. So, she was all set.
She still wasn't sure whether this was a crazy idea that would backfire completely or even whether she would even be able to locate him. He had had a three week start on her and could, by now, be almost anywhere. Even if she did manage to locate Chakotay there was no guarantee that he would listen to her...forgive her. But she HAD to try. She had no idea what she planned to do with the rest of her life and no real motivation to give it any serious thought. All she had truly held onto ever since that fatal day in the Badlands, was him. Just then her tumultuous thoughts were interrupted by an urgent rapping on the door. She pressed the intercom and asked who was there only to be met by an intentionally muffled reply "a friend".
Worried, and wondering why her security detail had not intervened, she grabbed her phaser and stood just behind the sliding doors. Setting the weapon on stun and aiming she pressed the door release. A tall male figure slipped in and Kathryn fired on instinct. He crumpled to the floor, out cold. It should take him at least twenty minutes to come round and she would have him well restrained before then. Turning the man over and pulling the scarf away to reveal his face she froze in shock. It was Chakotay's close friend and her former Lieutenant : Mike Ayala.
—
Thirteen hours later...
So she was finally standing in Chakotay's old shoes. She was an outlaw. Using an assumed identity and all the ingenuity of her former Maquis crew she was at the helm of the Delta Flyer again. Fortunately Starfleet had yet to examine her in any detail, the space dock engineering research teams being fully occupied with dissecting Voyager. With the number of modifications they had all carried out over their long journey through the Delta Quadrant that should keep the 'Fleet engineers fully occupied for months yet. So the Flyer still had many tricks up her sleeve that Starfleet had no knowledge of. She had engaged the ablative armour and masked their warp signature with ease. Mike believed that it would be possible to acquire a cloaking device, for the right price of course, once they entered orbit around Taglin III.
Once Ayala had regained consciousness he had told her the whole story. It would seem Mike was the only one that Chakotay had confided in. As soon as Kathryn had seen who it was she had abandoned any thoughts of contacting security although she was puzzled how he had tracked her down. Reg Barclay was adamant that he had said nothing to anyone. Ayala just replied that the Maquis 'had their ways'.
So she had discovered that Chakotay had headed out to this hell hole to contact this... Ro'ak person : in order to obtain some illicit Romulan technology that could bore wormholes through subspace. At least that is what was being claimed. Ordinarily, Mike thought that Chakotay would have been as incredulous as his former Captain was about this story, but these were far from ordinary circumstances. Chakotay felt abandoned and deceived : yet again. First Seska, then Tuvok and Tom Paris and now Kathryn : the only woman he had ever truly loved.
He had seen her start to close off at that last statement but Mike had persisted. By the end of a very long night there had been many revelations about his former life. Events that Mike Ayala had been a direct witness to, that made Kathryn re-evaluate. Chakotay had suffered so much more than she had known. Those five years he spent as a Maquis fighter before they met were...gruelling, to say the least. And he had been betrayed more times than she could comprehend. Now he knew that the one person he thought would always act in his best interests, that he had implicitly trusted, come what may - was no better than all the rest.
So, Ayala was sure, he was on Taglin II with the sole aim of acquiring the technology he needed to return to Nistrim space and recover his son.
She had needed no persuasion to accompany Mike on this 'rescue' mission. Whether that was 'simply' rescuing Chakotay from himself or from a whole criminal network orchestrated through this Ro'ak : she had no idea. Either way it would be emotionally fraught and there was no guarantee they would even find him. She had also had to give her Starfleet security detail the slip so was well aware that a sector wide alert would be issued the minute they became aware that Kathryn Janeway was missing. She could hardly implicate Mark in any of this, so Ayala had created yet another false identity for her. She now went by the pseudonym of Mrs. Rachel Ayala, Mike's wife. Her hair had been cut into short layers and dyed a mid brown so that she would blend into any crowd, unnoticed. They had also acquired some rather tatty, nondescript work overalls and had settled on a back story of being former DMZ colonists with saleable skills. She was to let it be known that she was an adept pilot and Mike had engineering knowledge from being forced to work on Cardassian freighters for the duration of the war.
So, with these 'credentials' they slipped into geostationary orbit of the dark side of Taglin III and Mike sent a covert communique to Quark. First things first : they needed to acquire that cloaking device before they could bring the Delta Flyer anywhere near Taglin II.
—-
So far he had gotten away with it : just. During the day he was working in the space port, repairing as best he could the equipment and any shuttles that passed through. By night he was hawking contraband that had been stolen from the few supply freighters that landed there. He had no idea what most of it was but he could make an educated guess by the amount of credits his 'customers' were parting with. A year ago, such an existence would have been inconceivable to him but now? Needs must and he was inching towards his objective day by day. With every shipment he sold his estimation in Ro'ak's eyes increased exponentially. Soon, very soon, he would have his trust sufficiently to start probing about the Romulan contact...
—
Twenty eight hours later...
Kathryn could finally let rip and she had completely forgotten for a second that it was Mike Ayala and not Chakotay here with her. There was so much that only her First Officer had been privy to all those years out there. To the rest of the crew she had always presented her professional 'poker' face. It had been a pig of a job fitting the Romulan device to the Flyer and trying to get the disparate systems to function as one unit. She was still doubtful that the cloak would hold for long without B'Elanna's expertise to keep it on an even keel. And that was after having sat here, rather pacing relentlessly, whilst she waited for Mike to cut the deal with Quark. It had cost her a small fortune to boot. She was sure that she could have driven a harder bargain with the nefarious and devious little Ferengi but Ayala had pointed out that there was still a chance Quark would recognise her. After all, Voyager had docked at DS9 for six days before departing for the Badlands all those years ago and she had spent some time on the station as Captain Janeway. Since their return her picture had been on all the news feeds virtually continually. Even with the fake ID and new look it was possible that Quark would see through it. Whereas Ayala had never set foot on the station before. There would be no old security footage of him to match up but he knew Taglin III and had mixed with it's colonists in a former life. He could 'talk the talk' and 'walk the walk' as needed. So Ayala had gone to make the exchange and she was trapped on the Flyer - hiding no less - behind Taglin III. When Mike had finally materialised he had bartered away nearly all the credits they had for this mission and the cloaking device looked dated to say the least. Kathryn strongly suspected it was inoperable without a major overhaul : which they could now neither afford or risk without drawing too much attention to themselves.
So she had spent the last twelve hours, non stop, dissembling the thing and trying to integrate the spare parts carried in the Flyer. Needless to say her language was getting a little ripe after the fourth 'test run' and subsequent power outage. She saw the look of shock on his face that he quickly tried to mask and had to suppress the impulse to laugh.
"It's alright Mr. Ayala, just my way of letting off steam when I'm out of my depth. Too much time spent with B'Elanna in the wee small hours in Engineering when the insomnia became too much. She and Chakotay are used to it..." a flash of pain passed across her face before she recovered herself " I just forgot for a moment where and when I was."
Mike felt for her. Out there, there had been no time to consider her as a human being at all. She was just the Captain. Infallible, invincible and with super human stamina. None of them had seen more than a brief glimpse of the woman inside. No, that was not entirely true, none of them : bar Chakotay. Here, now, her vulnerability was all too apparent. She had given up her Starfleet commission, her home and even her identity to come on this wild goose chase. Ro'ak and his associates were not to be trifled with. If he got even an inkling of who they truly were they would both be dead within seconds. There would be no beam out, no Starship or 'Fleet security detail to back them up or bring them to safety.
She was risking everything for a man who may well not forgive her. Not this time. Ayala knew Chakotay almost as well as he knew himself. He had loved Kathryn Janeway from afar for seven long years and Ayala had thought there was nothing that she could do that would ever break their bond. No one that Chakotay would put before her. The only possibility would be the fruit of his own loins. His own, flesh and blood child. Which, of course, they had all thought did not yet exist. Not only had Chakotay had a son but it was Kathryn Janeway who had stolen him away. Secretly and deliberately, entirely behind his back. Ayala could see it from Chakotay's point of view. Had someone set out to deceive him and steal away one of his sons he doubted that he could get past the pain and distrust and forgive them. But this was a unique situation. The mother was Seska. A supposed Bajoran ally who had been exposed as a Cardassian spy. She had then raped Chakotay to impregnate herself against his will. The child was half Cardassian but worse, half Seska. Ayala knew that Chakotay was creating a fantasy within his own mind. Vision quest images of himself with his 'look alike' tribal son doing all the things Chakotay rejected with his own father. In reality they would have had a Cardassian child running about on Voyager most probably exhibiting Seska's duplicitous nature. That was the child that his best friend was - in reality - setting out to pursue. He knew this and he had no doubt that Kathryn did too. Still she was willing to risk everything to try and save Chakotay from himself and hopefully salvage some vestige of a union with him. He sighed. He was not up to B'Elanna's level of ingenuity with a hypo-spanner but two heads were better than one and Kathryn certainly wasn't getting very far alone. However averse she was to admitting it.
He tapped her on the shoulder and as she turned to look at him, there was a steaming mug of her favourite blend of coffee being pro-offered. She felt a rush of tears that she fought to suppress as she stood to accept the mug from Mike. He was tall, dark and handsome and also had the same quiet considerate temperament as his alter ego. For a moment the faces of the two men merged within her mind and it hit her like a sledge hammer how much she was on the point of losing. Come what may she would track down Chakotay and she would help him retrieve his son. It was her error of judgment that had parted them and it was her responsibility to right that wrong : or die trying.
By the time she had finished her coffee Mike had pulled off some Maquis magic and the cloak activated. The power couplings held and he nodded to her to take the Flyer out at half impulse. At this speed they would be in orbit of Taglin II in ten hours. Just enough time to rest before their mission began in earnest.
—
Two days later...
'Amal Kotay' and Ro'ak waited in the smog behind the disused landing pad. The midday heat and acrid particles in the atmosphere were making it really hard to suppress a coughing fit. And the stench was overpowering. Chakotay had not been suprised at the price. He doubted that Levnok would bring the wormhole technology to this meeting. First, Amal Kotay would have to prove his worth by smuggling the defecting High Councillor's daughter safely out of Romulan space to Betazed without being detected. Once that was done he would trade the wormhole creating technology for a huge number of credits and, no doubt, insider information on Federation weapons systems.
Two hours later Chakotay was sitting in his bed sit staring at the wall, his mind a whirl of impossibilities. Not only had Levnok and Ro'ak known all along who he truly was, they had only allowed him to live because they wanted Voyager's technology. They knew of the extensive Borg inspired upgrades and had heard rumours on the underground web that a certain Admiral from the future had equipped a shuttle with impressive armaments. So he had to smuggle the Romulan woman into Federation space AND give them the Delta Flyer. To show good faith, Levnok had brought a microchip and left it with Chakotay. When he played it back it showed the Romulan Tal Shiar conducting clandestine tests apparently in the Gamma Quadrant. Assuming that the footage was not faked then the technology was the only means of return to Kazon space within his lifetime. His only chance to retrieve his son. He had no idea how Ro'ak and Levnok had acquired his personal information : but they had. So now he somehow had to pull off the impossible. And he had to find Captain Janeway if he stood any chance of accessing the Flyer. Now all he needed was a pretext to make that call...
—-
This was the third bar they had tried tonight and it was furthest from the city centre. On the outskirts of what was left of the space port with a few dilapidated tenement apartments clustered around. It looked foreboding and forgotten about, as did the clientele slumped around the dirty and dinghy bar. Mike had made subtle enquiries about work and had been told that the 'fix-it' man to talk to was an Amal Kotay who sometimes frequented the place. When he had mentioned this to Kathryn Janeway he could have sworn he saw a spark of... recognition? ...in her face. Though how a Starfleet brat, born and bred, would ever have known a person who lived here of all places was beyond him. It must just be that she was pleased that they had the chance of making progress at last. He had suggested that he go alone for this first reconnaissance, as he was still first and foremost a security officer and - although he was on this unofficial 'mission' purely as a friend - he had no intention of letting any harm come to her. Regardless of the latest emotional mess those two had made of their lives he knew that Chakotay would never forgive him if any harm came to Kathryn.
So here they were. Mike and 'Rachel' Ayala. Slouching on bar stools with two grubby looking glasses of whatever the local poison was. He supposed they would have to attempt to drink them at some point to avoid arousing suspicion so he just hoped that the Flyer still carried the full emergency medical kit.
Eventually Brell showed up. He was the guy who had tipped Mike off. From his general demeanour and nervous, furtive surveillance of the doorway they had to assume he was a pretty lowly operative in whatever pecking order there was around here. It seemed that someone called Ro'ak was THE boss but his ruthless right hand man, this Kotay, was the one who did all the hiring and firing. The firing was quite literal it seemed : so both he and 'Rachel' would have to tread carefully.
A few minutes passed then suddenly a large man burst into the place and slunk to the far end of the bar. It was hard to see in the dim lighting and murky atmosphere but his features were badly burned and his hand appeared to be too. Brell just nodded to Mike then slunk away into the gloom.
Kathryn felt a deep sense of foreboding. As soon as Mike had mentioned the contact's name she knew they had found him. For some reason she couldn't yet fathom she had said nothing to Ayala. She supposed her sixth sense was trying to buy herself a little time. Of course, she should have let Mike make the first contact alone. She had no idea how Chakotay would react to being found at all and her presence could jeopardise the whole situation if he reacted badly. She had just been so worried, and had missed him so much, that she had let sentiment override her better judgment. All her instincts confirmed this was Chakotay but the evidence of her eyes begged to differ. This man was physically and mentally scarred and his 'associates' feared him. Perhaps he had reverted to that 'Angry Warrior' he had told her all about many years ago. At the time it had been expressed as a charming declaration of love and redemption and she now realised, she had never fully considered the reality of that time and how his life had been. She had not wanted to and it seemed no longer to matter. He had moved on : redeemed himself and begun a new life. Now she could see how naive that had been. The angry warrior had just been suppressed, dwelling still, deep within his psyche and her betrayal had been the trigger that had raised his demons once again.
She tapped Mike on the arm and indicted that she would return to the Flyer. Mike looked as shocked as she did by the appearance of the man who, mercifully, had not so much as glanced their way so far. She gritted her teeth and braced herself. Mike had to know for sure who it was before he said a word to him. It was also better that Chakotay thought Mike was here alone. She watched the surprise followed by confusion and ...something else...wariness of her?...pass across Ayala's face. It was obvious to him that she had chosen to conceal her knowledge of Amal Kotay. She would have to repair the trust issues with Ayala later. When he returned to the Flyer, perhaps with Chakotay...
She slowly lumbered up, imitating a slightly inebriated stagger, and slumped towards what passed for the toilets without looking back. Once she was sure that she was far enough from the bar and any last residential slums she called for a beam out. As she materialised in the Flyer - and some semblance of her normal reality - the floodgates opened.
—
Meanwhile back in San Francisco ...
B'Elanna had checked and re-checked the data. Still doubting herself she had gone to Reg Barclay and Geordi La Forge for a second opinion. Although the Doctor's mobile emitter was developed in the twenty ninth century she had had enough years to find her way around the basics. Besides, the advanced, futuristic data storage technology was virtually impossible to tamper with : most importantly, the Doctor acquired his emitter long after Seska's demise. So she could not have altered its database. And the two sets of data did not match. Whilst the sickbay EMH records had appeared to show the original DNA data confirming Chakotay's paternity the mobile emitter showed only one set of readings for the baby that could be easily aligned to Seska's genome but there was no match to Chakotay's DNA at all. As the Doctor had temporarily treated a few Kazon whilst the crew were deposited on that pre-historic planet, there were a few Kazon DNA files within Voyager's database. There was no exact match to an individual but, then again, the Doctor had never taken a blood or tissue sample from Maj Cullah : but the father was Kazon.
B'Elanna felt terribly guilty. If only she had followed her instincts and done things the Maquis way all along. She could have just tidied up the Captain's manipulation and left the Kazon data in place. It turned out that all the Captain had actually done was correct - presumably - Seska's original tampering. Although, no doubt, Kathryn Janeway had believed that Chakotay was the father and had carried the guilt for all these years for a deception that she had never instigated. So now Kathryn had lost the man she loved and Chakotay was goodness knows where, searching for a son that only exists in his mind. Somehow she has to find him before he does something stupid. He had headed out to the Bajoran sector and she could guess where to : Taglin II was the hub for all illicit transactions on the borders of Bajoran and Cardassian space. If he was selling his soul to find a route back out there then...
It was time to call Seven. She had the best chance of knowing his plans and, even if she didn't, Seven's Borg ingenuity would be needed to find him should he have gone to ground. Perhaps she would try and contact Ayala too. If anyone could get through to the big guy it was him. She hugged her little girl a bit closer to her chest and thanked the fates for the stability of her new family.
—
Ayala called for transport a little over an hour after Kathryn had left the bar. When he materialised he had a nasty gash across his cheek, a split lip and some obvious swelling on the left side of his face.
Without saying a thing she gestured for him to sit whilst she gathered the emergency medical kit and tended to his wounds. He did not need to say anything for her to realise that it was Chakotay who had done this. Though certainly not the Chakotay she thought she knew. Whatever had transpired down there he certainly did not want his friends around. She was relieved that she had make the prudent choice of keeping her distance. If he had reacted this way to his best male friend then seeing her would have tipped him completely over the edge. Whatever he was involved in down there, blowing his cover at this point would just get all three of them killed. Of that she was sure enough.
Once Mike was as healed as she could manage with the emergency dermal regenerator she went to fix some rations and hot coffee for them both. As she busied herself in the cramped kitchen area the story unfolded. Chakotay, or rather Amal Kotay as he would be referred to for the rest of this mission, had recognised Ayala immediately. Mike had stuck to the script and asked whether there was any work going for a fix-it man who knew his way around Cardassian freighters and had also been put to work on the shields of their battle cruisers. Amal Kotay had tried to dismiss him until he said he was travelling with a competent pilot who may be of use to his organisation. At that point Amal Kotay had dragged him outside to 'discuss' the issue. Before Ayala had had a chance to say another word Amal Kotay had laid into him. Telling him to 'sling his hook' and take the scumbag pilot with him. The man was drunk and had a few pounds on Mike so he had taken a pounding before he knocked him out. Then Ayala had dragged him onto the doorstep of the bar and left him for the others to find. He had walked a couple of miles beyond the derelict space port and ensured he was alone and unobserved before calling for beam out. He told Kathryn that he was sure Amal Kotay thought the pilot in question was one Tom Paris. He had not had a chance to correct the man but, with hindsight, he was glad. This was not the Chakotay he knew, even during the worst of times when he was a Maquis. He did not trust him anywhere near their former Captain for now.
As they sat and ate, Kathryn had listened intently. She was struggling to reconcile this Amal Kotay with the one who had rescued her from the nefarious forces on Quarra. She wished he had chosen another pseudonym. In her mind she needed to switch off Kathryn and focus on dealing with this as Captain Janeway would. She cast her mind back eight years in time and tried to remember as much of the intelligence files she had read as possible. How had she planned to deal with his capture? What had been his most recent experiences with the Cardassians? It was such a long time ago that she really needed to access Starfleet intelligence files. But she had resigned her commission and no longer had her command codes. There was no way she could contact Owen Paris with this, he must already have an alert out on her after hers and Ayala's vanishing act. If they didn't know already they would soon discover that the Delta Flyer was missing. All the former Maquis had been honourably discharged so B'Elanna would no longer have access either, but if she remembered rightly, Tom Paris had retained his rank and been recommended for promotion. So Tom may well have the authority of a Lieutenant Commander. Not the level of access she ideally wanted but it would have to do. She turned to Ayala "Mike, I need to send an encrypted message to Tom and B'Elanna's home without it being traceable to our current location. It would help if there could be a covert energy variance that B'Elanna would realise as belonging to the Flyer. Are your Maquis subterfuge skills still up to the task?"
Ayala grinned at her. "No problem, Rachel dear. Leave it to me." She grimaced at the reminder to stay in character for now. Hopefully by the time the information was patched back to her she would have started to formulate a plan of action.
—
Three hours later...
B'Elanna had heard the console 'ping' whilst changing Miral. Glancing across quickly she saw it was yet another message for Tom. Since his promotion a whole sector of opportunities had opened up for him whilst she had found herself unemployed and trying to find fulfilment as a full time mother. Although she cherished the time spent with her baby daughter she longed to be able to exercise her mind. At least to know there was something in the offing in a few months time. Once Miral was weaned. Although she had been honourably discharged, with a sizeable remuneration for time served aboard Voyager, she needed to use her engineering skills. Routine maintenance on the home appliances was just not sufficiently challenging for her.
Half an hour later with Miral fast asleep she made a coffee and glanced back at the console. Surely Tom wouldn't mind if she just sorted the messages out. Perhaps there was even something she could deal with herself and save him the extra work. The most recent message caught her eye, it was encrypted but the algorithm was slightly out of phase. Perhaps there was a fault with their console? As she peered closer she noticed an unmistakeable Borg phase variance. This was either a reply from Seven or another member of their senior staff. But why was it addressed to Tom and not her? She had been the one to send the message to Seven asking after Chakotay. Blow it. She was still a Maquis at heart and a damn fine engineer to boot. She would de-encrypt the message and read it. Should it only concern Tom then she could just as easily re-set the encryption and no one would ever know it had been looked at.
Fifteen minutes later she had gleaned that Kathryn Janeway and Mike Ayala were somewhere in the Delta Flyer and requesting all the old Maquis data files on Chakotay. Something was very wrong and she was going to find out exactly what. First things first, trace the location of that transmission. She grinned to herself as she recognised Ayala's handiwork. Not bad Mike, she thought, but not quite good enough to get past me. With that she set to work.
—
Four hours later...
Tom Paris had come through for them. An encrypted subspace message had found it's way, via a very convoluted route, to the Flyer with all the old intelligence files regarding Chakotay's cell and also the timeline to the Maquis's eventual demise. It would take some time to process and she was still unsure of how she would go about resolving anything. Ayala thought the best plan of action was to lock onto Amal Kotay's bio-signature and beam him aboard within a security forcefield. If necessary they could stun him and place him in a containment field whilst they made their way back to Earth. However to do that they would have to temporarily disengage the cloak and this close to the Bajoran system Starfleet would pick up the Flyer's unique energy matrix within seconds. They had already noticed a build up of 'Fleet traffic around DS9 these last few days. No doubt the Intelligence services had deduced that Chakotay was somewhere in the vicinity and by extrapolation herself and the Flyer. She just hoped that they had no interest in Mike or any idea that he was involved.
No. Somehow either Ayala or herself would need to go back down and make contact with Kotay again. Perhaps a change of approach...she had noticed there were quite a few girls plying their trade around those dives when she and Ayala had first searched for Chakotay. Perhaps an altogether different disguise would lure him somewhere discreet where Mike could lock into them...she would just need to ensure that he did not recognise her before she could stun him. Now that there was so much Starfleet traffic in the area that still left the issue of how to drop the cloak for transport without being detected. How she wished - not for the first time - that B'Elanna was here to help.
—-
Chakotay had drawn a complete blank. No one knew the whereabouts of Kathryn Janeway since she had resigned her commission. This latter piece of news had stunned him. The one thing he had always assumed that she held most dear was her allegiance to that organisation. She had been born into it after all, her father obtaining the rank of Admiral and she was destined for the same. Was it not Admiral Kathryn Janeway who had ultimately brought them all home. So she had suddenly rejected all she held dear and vanished. Along with the Delta Flyer! He would stake his life on it that she was here with Ayala. The more he thought about it the more it made sense. If he hadn't drunk so much of the local poison last night his mind would have been sharper. Joined the dots. As if Paris would have bothered to come looking for him! But Kathryn Janeway? That was another matter entirely. He had to assume that Janeway was on an undercover mission to capture him for Starfleet. And she had fed some cock and bull story to Ayala to gain his co-operation. After all, the former First Officer of the now infamous Voyager, going rogue and joining Ro'ak's seedy operation out here would hardly make for good publicity for the Federation,and particularly the 'Fleet Brass, would it?
So all he had to do was slip a message back to Brell that he was interested in the Ayala fix-it man and his pilot buddy after all. And wait for them to take the bait...
—-
The following two nights Ayala hung around the various haunts in the district Kotay had made his 'patch'. It had been a devil of a job to dissuade Kathryn Janeway from joining him. Now she had grasped the full gravity of the situation she seemed more determined than ever to dive straight in. Chakotay had called her a 'gung-ho girl' once...during that Hirogen WWII scenario and Ayala did not know what it meant at the time. Once he had read up on the antiquated Old Earth colloquialism, it stuck him as very apt. The term could almost have been created just for her.
So the plan was that he would attempt to locate Kotay, either directly or through this Brell character, and somehow persuade him that they were there to assist his quest to find his son, rather than thwart him at every opportunity. He had absolutely no idea whether Kotay would play along, even if simply to satisfy his curiosity, or whether he would be walking straight into an ambush. Anyone else and he would have assumed the latter. He just hoped that there was enough of his friend Chakotay remaining under all that hurt and bravado to exert some self control.
Sure enough, third bar of the night and by now almost sunrise. Well, the dark crimson smog was turning a spine chilling blood red, as he glanced through what was left of the cracked window pane : there stood Brell. Half way through the door. He had spotted Ayala and indicated with his eyes that he should follow. Getting up as casually as he could he staggered just enough to look as though he had had a couple too many. Just for maximum effect he deliberately misjudged where the exit was and collided with the doorframe. Several expletives and a couple of kicks later, he emerged into the dawn smog with the laughter of his fellow bar flys still ringing in his ears. Brell smirked too as he rounded the corner out of sight.
They must have played cat and mouse for another half an hour and Ayala was well aware that he was being led further and further from civilisation. So this was to be an ambush, as he had expected. He bit down on the alarm locator that had been embedded in his fourth molar and sent the signal to the Flyer. If he gave a second signal there would be an emergency beam out and he and Kathryn would have to engage the ablative armour on the Flyer and leave the system. Most likely without Chakotay. Ayala had no intention of giving that second signal without retrieving his former friend and captain although Janeway did not know that. Had she suspected for a moment there is no way in hell she would have agreed to stay up in orbit. He may have to sacrifice himself but he was damned if he would let her do the same.
Eventually Brell stopped and opened the door to what looked like an obsolete hover car servicing station in the distant past. It looked as though it had not seen active service for a couple of decades at least. Come to that, he had not seen a single operational hover car anywhere on Taglin ll since their arrival. Once Ayala was clear of the doors Brell vanished from sight. The next thing he knew was that the man had doubled back behind him and escaped through the only entrance, locking him inside. Ayala waited and sure enough Amal Kotay emerged from the shadows with what looked like a young Cardassian man...no wait, not quite. He had Bajoran nose ridges. So one of the 'Bastards of the Occupation' as they were known. Ayala's guess was this was the head thug, Ro'ak. He was the only one who was expensively dressed. Along with him and Chakotay there were two local thugs he had not seen before.
Chakotay/ Amal Kotay raises his weapon and levelled it at Ayala. "Give us the Delta Flyer and Janeway and we will spare your life."
As serious as the situation was, Mike Ayala had to suppress the urge to laugh. This whole situation reminded him of one of Paris's juvenile gangster holo-programs. He was tempted to pinch himself and tell the computer to halt the simulation. However neither the look in Kotay's eye or those of his associates convinced him they were anything but deadly serious. He needed to buy himself some time to get Kotay alone.
"Alright, that may be do-able. I'm just here for the big fat payment from Starfleet security to bring you in. Of course, I made sure I had an insurance policy. Persuaded Starfleet that Janeway and I should fly this mission alone. Last night I sent an encoded message back to HQ to say you had kidnapped Janeway. The whole sector will be crawling with Fleet security within hours. If you want to get out alive and obtain the Flyer and Janeway, make me a better offer."
He watched Kotay and Ro'ak whispering. Then Ro'ak called off his two thugs and left him and either Amal Kotay or Chakotay standing there. He was about to find out which.
—
Damn! Where were Chakotay and Mike? She had knocked out the two local morons with one slug of her fist each and the Doctor had anaesthetized Ro'ak. The latter would be secured and beamed back to the brig on the U.S.S. Endeavour before the day was out. She was unwilling to burst in as she had seen a brief flash of, presumably, Chakotay holding a weapon pointed at what could only be Ayala. All the rest of them were accounted for. She had to find a way in without being spotted.
B'Elanna signalled to the two security staff to beam out the three they had already caught and cover their tracks. She knew she was treading a fine line with this emergency field commission. Be seen to be doing everything by the book and her husband might just retain that shiny knew promotion of his otherwise...the implication was clear. But this was not a Starfleet issue or truly a Maquis one. It was personal. Between Chakotay, Kathryn and a little boy living in the far reaches of the Delta Quadrant. A child that everyone bar Chakotay, Kathryn and Ayala knew was not his.
She was just about to double round and see whether she could gain access through the roof space when she felt the familiar tug of the Flyer's Transporter beam. On materialising inside she found herself staring at a very confused but unharmed Ayala.
—-
"Drop the gun, Chakotay." He froze for an instant whilst he calculated how far behind him she was. Assured that he could take her he lunged round and fell flat on his face as he swiped at a holographic illusion. Before he could regain his balance he heard a blast and his phaser evaporated in front of his eyes. Standing several feet away to his right the real Kathryn Janeway came into view with her phaser pointed directly at his head.
"One more move like that and I'll stun you and have you in the Flyer's brig before you have a chance to draw your next breath. Understood?"
He had underestimated her yet again. Some things never changed. So here they both were, almost as if the last eight years had never happened. The Starfleet Captain, probably Admiral after she brought him in, standing - phase aimed - waiting to haul in her prey. The only thing that suprised him at this point was that she had not changed back into uniform. She had always hidden behind her Captain's mask and costume before. Perhaps she was now so feted, so famous and so highly regarded that both the mask and uniform were obsolete. And here he was, Maquis scum; violent criminal; contraband smuggler; you name it. He didn't give a damn. All he could think about was his little boy fading further and further into the distance. Any chance of saving him and by extension himself, lost forever. Let Starfleet do their damnedest. He couldn't care less anymore.
"Let's just get this over with shall we? Just stun me and haul me into the brig. If you need an excuse I'm more than happy to oblige. What will it be. Your call."
She could hear the sneering contempt in every word and she had to suppress the bile that was rising in her throat. How had they come to this? Surely even the loss of his and Seska's child could not have resulted in the man crumpled on the floor in front of her. Looking at him she realised that she would have to take an enormous risk to get him to talk to her. Deactivating her phaser she threw it at Chakotay's feet.
"On the contrary, it would seem it is YOUR call. You have the phaser, I am now unarmed. If you hate me that much then just pull the trigger. No one will be able to get to me in time to stop you. Though I was hoping we could at least talk first. What more have you got to lose at this point by hearing me out?"
He considered. As much as his heart was raging against Captain Janeway, all that he could see standing in front of him was Kathryn. Dressed in her fawn dungarees and black top that she often wore on her holodeck excursions to the di Vinci program. He remembered she said it was very practical for crawling about on the floor adjusting their various 'inventions'. Damn her, but she still knew just how to manipulate him. He could have shot that Starfleet uniform but not this...Kathryn...standing in front of him now.
She watched as his thoughts reflected in the dark pools in his eyes. Chakotay was still in there she knew, buried deep. She so wanted to reach him before they were both beamed to the brig of the Endeavour. After all, she was now a civilian who had stolen the Delta Flyer, for a completely unauthorised personal crusade : to save a former colleague who had spent the last few weeks running a drugs and illicit weapons technology cartel on the edge of Hell as far as she was concerned.
"I'm guessing we have ten minutes at most before we are both beamed to the brig. Just before I beamed down I retrieved Ayala and B'Elanna who would have materialised on the Flyer. B'Elanna's not in any trouble and I've left a note to exonerate Mike but whether that will count for much.."
His sneering laugh cut her off. "You seriously expect me to believe that you are now a civilian outlaw, acting alone? That Starfleet would dare to place you in any brig, ever? Please! Just how gullible and stupid do you think I became out there under your command? Oh, I have to admit, I spent over seven long, long years following your every order. Indulging your every whim. No doubt you took that as a weakness on my part. Thought I happily accepted playing your little lap dog? Desperate for any crumbs you threw me? One minute you are flirting outrageously and the next you are giving me the cold shoulder. Day in day out, month in month out, goddamn year in year out. And what did I get for it. Sweet fuck all ! That's what. Not only that, I find out a couple of weeks before the end of our little odyssey that you had stolen my only child from me over five years ago. Just like that. No consultation. No input from me whatsoever. The great Captain Janeway wants to eliminate an inconvenient truth so she alters the ship's log, the Doctor's memory files and off we all sail happily into the sunset. Leaving my son in the hands of Cullah and his thugs. Much as I despised Seska for her duplicity she would have protected her son come what may. Only she was dead, wasn't she? And you knew it. So who was going to protect the child now? Cullah? A half Cardassian hybrid. How do you think the Kazon women would have taken to that? Do you seriously believe they would have nurtured him as they would one of their own? Hell, they even abandon their own sons to the sects bloody warfare as soon as they reach puberty. My boy would now be six years old, in another six years he could be dead. Slaughtered in a pointless turf war. And that is solely your fault. Don't try to tell me you did it for the good of the ship or of me. You cast him aside because he was Seska's son and you were jealous that I had something that you chose to deny yourself all those years. That you would be too old to create by the time we returned home. So, if you had to be childless you chose to condemn me to the same fate. Isn't THAT the truth of the situation?"
Kathryn had listened to this tirade and had expected at least a part of it. But it was one thing to suspect a hypothetical and quite another to have the bitter truth verbally assault you. And he was right that a part of her was jealous of Seska and repulsed by the thought of a child that shared Seska and Chakotay's genes. But it was not as simple as that. She had genuinely looked at the situation with her Captain's hat on as well as acknowledging Kathryn's feelings. And in the end she had weighed it up and decided that it was in the best interests of crew cohesion, Chakotay himself and even the child, to let Cullah take him. A third of her crew were former Maquis who had had their families and friends massacred by the Cardassians. They had thought Seska a Bajoran ally in their suffering only to discover, half way across the galaxy, that she was a duplicitous Cardassian spy. A member of the Obsidian Order and Gul Dukat's oldest daughter to boot. They were then attacked multiple times by the Nistrim, yet more Voyagers' lives were lost until they were stranded on that planet. Finally, Seska was no more, and they had the chance to start the healing process with what was left of their crew. How could having Seska's son on board have helped that? As he grew and began to look less human and more Cardassian, could you, Chakotay have loved him as a son. Looking at a Cardassian face with Seska's eyes staring back at you? Yes, I concealed the truth from you. But it was not done with malice but with love. Did I not also make the same decision for my own children? The ones I gave birth to whilst in amphibian form after Tom's warp 10 flight. Alright, we were already on our way home at high warp by the time the Doctor had returned Tom and I to our human forms, but I could have ordered the ship to turn around and retrieved them. Perhaps in time the Doctor could have reprogrammed their DNA. By now I would be a mother of four six year old children myself. Of course I think of them often. Do I regret my decision? On a personal level yes, every day. But professionally, did I make the right decision to leave them behind, yes. I believe so. Over the years I have had to learn to forgive myself for the decisions I have made. You taught me that. Guilt only eats away at us and some things cannot be changed. However much we may want them to.
I have talked for a long time with Mike Ayala and I hope that I now have a greater understanding of the situations that have shaped you. B'Elanna and Ayala beamed back onto the Flyer just before I confronted you. Whilst we have been talking B'Elanna and Ayala have re-configured the controls to obey only your commands. If you wish to leave and pursue your son you only have to request a beam out. No one will stop you. She still has her ablative armour and Mike and I installed a now obsolete, highly illegal, Romulan cloaking device that we acquired at Taglin III. B'Elanna should just about have finished those upgrades. Your associates Ro'ak and the other two locals are in the brig of the USS Endeavour which was sent out here to capture me, not you. I did resign my commission a few weeks ago and so I'm now as much of a civilian outlaw as you. The choice is yours. Stay and I'll do my best to help you through this or leave now."
He just stared at her intently. She could no longer fathom what was going through his mind or even if she had reached him. Finally he spoke and what was left of her hope crumbled. "Very good Kathryn, I'm sure anyone else would have been convinced by that 'heartfelt' speech. But not me, I've heard all your self righteous justifications for the unjustifiable once too often. No doubt this is a trap but I'll take my chances up there. If my son is still alive, and in my bones I sense he is, then I will find him or die trying. You may have decided to sacrifice your children for Starfleet ideals but I guess I'm just not as saintly as you. Delta Flyer, one to beam up."
And with that he was gone. Before she had a chance to react she found herself on the Transporter PADD of the Endeavour facing Captain La Forge and her good friends B'Elanna and Mike. In a daze she found herself being escorted to guest quarters rather than the brig. Once she was left alone with B'Elanna she felt the last of her stamina fall away. As she crumpled into a sobbing mass on the sofa she vaguely heard B'Elanna beginning to talk. "Kathryn, about Seska's child...there is something you need to know."
—-
Chakotay found himself beamed into the cockpit of the Flyer. After having the computer confirm that there was no one else on board he activated the ablative armour and set course for the Bajoran wormhole, maximum warp. He should be at the threshold within the hour. No doubt the Endeavour would set a pursuit course but he intended to cloak just after he exited the Taglin system. He was suprised to find that the Flyer was, so far, obeying his commands as Kathryn had said it would. He still doubted her story and her motives, but he was just too tired to think straight. Forcing himself from the pilot's seat to the replicator he ordered a peppermint tea and a round of cheese sandwiches then slumped onto the recreational seating. Before he could take his first bite, who should emerge through the sleeping quarter doors than the Doctor!
Before he could react the Doctor sat down opposite and started to speak. By the time he had finished Chakotay felt reality shifting around him again. He had just destroyed everything he held dear for yet another lie. He suddenly felt icy cold and clammy and felt the room staring to swirl around him. Then a pain in his chest and head and the muffled voice of the Doctor before he started to fall. He opened his mouth to say something then the world went black.
—
Eighteen days later...
He was finally being discharged from Starfleet Medical. Since he had regained consciousness it had been a long and painful journey back to himself. To finding his equilibrium, his peace. But by some miracle Kathryn had not deserted him. Neither had any of his friends. He had been forced to spend way too much time with that Councillor Troi, sometimes alone and sometimes jointly with Kathryn. He did not know for sure what the future held but they would face it together.
It was Spring time in San Francisco and the Golden Gate Bridge was glinting in the early morning sunshine. Kathryn had looped her arm through his and they were going to stay in her apartment for a little while. Just until the dust had settled and they both felt able to make some decisions about each of their futures. As he looked around he spotted an ice cream vendor in the park and thought back to an adventure they had in Los Angeles in the late twentieth century, when they had first encountered Braxton and the Doc had acquired his mobile emitter. He had been walking arm in arm with Kathryn then too. It their civvies. Just a normal couple enjoying the sunshine. And he had brought her an ice cream. Coffee flavour : of course. He grinned to himself and guided her to a bench. "Sit here and close your eyes."
She looked sceptically at him but decided to humour him, just this once. A couple of minutes later she heard his voice in front of her "Open your right hand" and as she held it up she felt something being pressed between her fingers. She opened her eyes to see a coffee flavoured cornet and felt her vision blur momentarily. He had remembered.
Suddenly she knew that reality had reset and all would play out as it had always been destined to. Kathryn and Chakotay : together for ever.
THE END.
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