Chapter four
After everything I've dealt with in the course of my career in Starfleet – particularly during my years in the Delta Quadrant – I really shouldn't have been surprised by what happened here. But I was.
Despite everything I knew about them, I wasn't expecting the Breen to enter orbit almost two days early.
I had not expected to drop out of warp into what looked like a war zone – my plan had hinged on intercepting the Breen ships before they arrived in the Marsadan system.
If I had known how things would turn out, I would never have agreed to the Paris-Torres family's request to accompany me. Although, perhaps it was a good thing I was so unsuspecting. For if B'Elanna and Tom hadn't both been here to play their parts in preventing those mines from going off, it would have been a very different story. Without their skills and their quick thinking, I might have found myself forced to beam down to Sekaya's house on Marsada to deliver her brother's dead body – presuming there would have been enough left after the explosions to place in a container.
XxX
When Tom and I beam over to the cramped bridge of Sveta's battered little ship, the contrast to the sleek curves and latest spec technology we've just left behind on the Pantera is staggering. Sveta's ship is considerably bigger than Chakotay's Alpha Flyer, but it has the feel of something from another era of space travel entirely. It looks like more than half of the body of this vessel has been replaced – cobbled together from parts of other ships. I can't shake the feeling that I've just beamed aboard the Frankenstein's monster of small ships.
Tom scans the motionless forms of Sveta, Chakotay and Kohana with the medical tricorder. Once I collect myself, I secure primary systems. We spend a few minutes working in silence until I cross to stand next to him and he gives me his triage report. All three have concussion, cracked ribs, and some sizeable contusions, but none of them have life-threatening injuries – nothing he can't patch up with a field medic's kit. His first patient is the long-limbed Sveta. He treats her impossibly thin wrist while she's still unconscious. Then I help him prop her up in her seat and he begins to treat her concussion. I turn back to Chakotay.
Whatever else I may be feeling as I stand over the unconscious form of the man who is the real reason I'm here, I know that my heart is still caught in the retreating swell of the tsunami of relief that hit me when we beamed in. The impact was such that I found myself clutching Tom's arm. It was the first time I knew for sure that one of the life-signs we picked up on this ship belonged to Chakotay. It wasn't until that moment that I realised just how terrified I'd been of beaming aboard and finding him already dead.
Chakotay and I have both cheated death before. As most people know these days, death and I have an unconventional relationship. Today, I felt as if it was nearby again. I haven't felt that way in months.
As I stand over him now, I realise that even though I may not trust him any more, there's no denying what the sight of this foolhardy, fallible, stubborn man lying here at my feet does to some primitive part of me. For a moment, I almost drop down beside him on the deck – if only to reassure myself he's really still alive and warm and whole. I almost reach for him, to touch his face, to dab away the blood that's congealing around a cut across his forehead and colouring the blue-grey lines of his ancestors an angry dark red-
But I resolve to do no such thing. My chin angles up as I remind myself of every reason I have to ignore that primitive part.
Then movement catches my attention as Chakotay's cousin stirs.
As I watch, Kohana manoeuvres himself up to sitting. His groans attract Tom's attention. He's done with Sveta now, so he manoeuvres himself further back in the cabin and helps Kohana sit more comfortably. I can feel Kohana's dark eyes looking across at me. He nods a cautious greeting. I acknowledge him with a tight smile. It's the best I can do right now. As Tom treats him, he fills him in on everything that's happened. Kohana listens in silence.
There's a strong family resemblance between this tall, broad man and the one still lying unconscious at my feet. I watch Kohana's almost familiar face watching me as he listens to Tom. It heightens the sense of anticipation building in my gut about how Chakotay will react to my presence. Chakotay told me he and Kohana were close as boys, his cousin being only two years his junior. I imagine they might well have been mistaken for brothers. I don't know much about him other than that he's an engineer, he lives in Ohio and he's married to a Terran woman with whom he has four young children. I'm sure he's a charming person, but I'm in no mood to deal with him right now, so I keep my distance.
I look down again to see Chakotay's eyelids flutter, as if he's dreaming. He blinks two, three times, his face still slack in repose and then he looks up at me, eyes still seeming unfocused. His brow furrows for a moment before his eyes close again.
A moment later, he seems to come around properly. He slowly props himself up on his elbows and our eyes meet in earnest for the first time since he shimmered into nothingness in front of me in my apartment.
"Kathryn." He's hoarse, and his tone suggests he's still in the process of convincing himself I'm really here.
What happens next alarms me. As his dark eyes rake over my face, despite everything he's done and hasn't done, I suddenly feel myself being pulled down again towards him, like a paperclip to a magnet.
I take a step back immediately. This is exactly why I kept my distance all those years on Voyager. Something akin to confusion flashes through Chakotay's expression.
Tom turns our way. He's finished treating Kohana, the latter is seated on the deck, leaning against the bulkhead, clearly exhausted. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Tom hesitate.
A few long seconds pass as I remain where I am, staring straight ahead, battling my frayed nerves into submission.
Then Tom steps forward, filling the space in front of me. He leans down and offers Chakotay his hand. Chakotay grasps it firmly and Tom helps him get up.
"Easy," Tom cautions, steering him to the pilot's seat. "You hit your head pretty hard. You may feel still a little dizzy." He presses a hypo-spray to Chakotay's neck. "This should help."
"Thanks." Then Chakotay looks at me. "I take it this means the situation's changed."
I hold his gaze. "It has."
"You mind telling me why you're here, Kathryn?" he asks, clearly none too pleased.
Our voices must have roused Sveta. "How long have we been unconscious?" she questions me.
"Not long." I reply. I moisten my lips, then address them both. "We've transported some things you may have lost into your cargo hold."
"Oh?" Sveta narrows her eyes.
"The detonators to your mines," Tom supplies.
"And the Breen ships?" Chakotay asks me.
"Left orbit," I reply.
Kohana watches from the back of the bridge, listening silently to our exchanges. Sveta huffs out a disbelieving breath.
"Why would they do that?" Chakotay is equally sceptical no doubt, but more graceful an orator than his friend.
"Perhaps she asked them nicely," Sveta remarks coolly, her unusual grey eyes on me.
"I sent the master of the lead ship some sample data," I reply, my tone equally chilly.
"Data?" Chakotay raises an eyebrow.
"Data about an uninhabited Federation planet I knew he'd find a lot more interesting than this entire system."
"The Federation council authorised you to renegotiate?" Chakotay is clearly finding my success here hard to fathom. Even though he was the one who suggested I work from within. Guess he underestimated me.
"Not exactly." I hold his level gaze, sure of myself once again now that we're in professional territory. "I persuaded the master of the lead ship to call off their advance so he could examine the data. Then B'Elanna cleared up your 'plasma storms' and got long-range communications working again. Just before we beamed over we heard from Command that the Breen negotiators have agreed to new terms that don't involve this system. I simply took it upon myself to share what I knew with the master of the lead ship here a little in advance of that decision."
"Well, that's certainly very good news." Chakotay rubs the back of his neck and holds my gaze. "Although you'll have to tell me more about this 'new data' for it to make any sense." Then he looks to Tom. "B'Elanna's here?" he asks cautiously.
Tom nods. "It was her idea to beam the detonators out of your mines. She borrowed a trick out of Seven's book from way back."
"I see," Chakotay replies a little tersely. "Makes sense." He watches me again.
"And the kids are here too actually," Tom adds.
Chakotay's eyes snap back to Tom.
"We weren't exactly expecting this to be a battle zone," Tom clarifies.
"If you hadn't disrupted long-range communication we wouldn't have had to have come out here at all," I interject, irritated by the way Chakotay's glance levelled an accusation of irresponsibility. "We'd have been able to get word through to both sides that another solution was in the pipeline."
Tom clears his throat. "Given the comm blackout, the plan was to intercept the Breen on their way here and give them the data before they entered the system."
"The Breen rarely accommodate the plans of others," Sveta dismisses wryly. Then she turns to me. "I too would like to know the nature of this data that you were able to send the master of the lead ship."
I explain how I found out about the Breen's initial interest in another Federation asset. Then I tell them how I managed to find out about Clavis.
When I've finished my explanation, Sveta inclines her head for a moment, then looks up. "So it was a stroke of luck – pure chance – that enabled you to intervene here."
"I'm sorry?" I'm taken aback and I'm sure it shows on my face.
"It was pure chance this captain should include a reference to the planet in his report, was it not? And it was a stroke of luck that you came upon it when you did. Without this coincidence, you would have had no strategy here, nothing to work with."
"Well I guess that's one way of looking at it," I reply tersely. There is simply no pleasing some people.
"And then you left, to come here," Chakotay redirects. "How did you persuade Starfleet to give you a ship?"
"I told them I intended to collect the advisor on interplanetary relations and her family and transport them to wherever they'd chosen as their new home."
He swallows. I imagine it occurs to him that eyebrows were raised when people believed he'd left it to me to come to the aid of his sister's family while he took himself off on some retreat. Can't say that I'm surprised he's uncomfortable with that dynamic. Or sorry.
He collects himself. "So, did you take what you'd found out to the press?"
"Actually, I didn't have to. Once we were en route here, I called my journalist friend. But before I could tell him anything, he asked me if I'd like to go on the record and give a statement about the information from the whistle blower from inside the Office of the President. Apparently, someone had already leaked the whole affair to the press. Needless to say, there are plenty of people who are very unhappy about the initial decision now all the facts are known."
Chakotay looks away, his expression unreadable, and Sveta doesn't react outwardly at all. She's already running her long fingers over the controls of her station, presumably seeing what state her ship is in.
"I told the reporter there was nothing I'd like more," I go on. "I gave him some useable sound bites. He said the councillor from Betazed had demanded an emergency meeting of the Federation council. As Tom said, we planned to intercept the Breen ships before they got here. It wasn't until we were a few light years away that we realised they were already in orbit."
Then Sveta looks up from the controls. "Had we not disrupted the atmospheric control systems and sent the Federation transports away, the Breen might well have arrived even earlier. Before you'd had time to make your very lucky discovery."
My hand balls into a fist at my side. "Yes, well, while you were all flying around preparing to blast yourselves and the Breen to kingdom come, I was using my 'lucky discovery' to secure this system's freedom."
"Without our atmospheric disruption and our mines," she counters, "they would have already landed and staked their claim to Marsada at least six hours before you dropped out of warp to save the day."
The sting of her flippant sarcasm causes my fingernails to dig deep into my skin.
"I doubt they would have ever agreed to pull out then. More likely they would have decided to enjoy both prizes," she concludes.
"Well, I guess we'll never know now, will we?" Tom puts in, unsmiling.
"I am not ungrateful for your intervention." Sveta's reply is curt.
"You could have fooled me," Tom shoots back at her immediately, although her comment was addressed to me.
"I simply wish to make a point," she continues, still addressing me. "Your disapproval is evident in all you say. Before you berate us for our actions, you might wish to consider the things I have said."
From the look on Chakotay's face I wouldn't mind betting that he agrees with her, at least in part, but he's not fool enough to say so right now. He's learnt how to handle me. Or so he thinks.
Circular thoughts I'm so tired of thinking make their way out of my mouth. This time I'm less inclined to keep the abrasiveness of my tone in check. "You might wish to consider that if Chakotay had asked for my help weeks ago, then it's quite possible I could have made these discoveries earlier."
"I do not follow how that can be true," Sveta throws back instantly. "You did not discover the existence of this planet as a result of your efforts to help the Marsadans. There is no logical reason to presume you would have read that particular report any earlier if Chakotay had asked you for help."
Chakotay and I lock eyes and I feel a quiver of tension. My pulse accelerates uncomfortably, but I'll be damned if I let it show.
"Enough, Sveta," he intervenes. "There's nothing to be gained by debating the 'what ifs'."
While I'm thinking just how convenient it would be never to examine what we could have done differently here, I realise Tom is trying to catch my eye.
"I should check each of them over thoroughly before we beam back, Admiral,"
He gestures to Kohana and Sveta, asking them to show him to a cabin for some privacy.
Kohana has the good sense to take Tom's hint and immediately gets up off the deck to lead the way through towards the cabins. Sveta doesn't seem to catch on – I find I'm not surprised. I wonder whether the words 'good sense' and Sveta often find themselves in the same sentence.
"Would you give us a moment?" Chakotay asks her when it's clear she isn't going anywhere. She nods and checks the readings on her console one last time before finally disappearing.
Chakotay's fingers were moving over the controls of the screen to his right while we waited for Sveta to leave. He was looking at the sensor readings to see exactly what I arrived in.
He quirks an eyebrow. "I see you made the trip in style."
The Pantera is small and light, with limited cargo space and crew quarters. It's wonderfully sleek and surprisingly powerful. This is only its second outing. We'd spoken about this new ship design over dinner just a couple of weeks ago before all this happened – in what seems like another lifetime right now.
"Guess Starfleet still trust me." I reply pointedly.
"You did get Voyager back in one piece." He smiles, and leans forward in his seat to reach for my hand. I'm too fast for him though. My hand is up and pinching at a muscle in my neck before he can intercept it. He clasps his hands in his lap instead and he carries on talking immediately, smoothing over the meaning of my evasion. "I bet Tom's eye's lit up when he saw it."
I'm in no mood for this, so I don't reply.
"Will you beam down and see Sekaya before you head back?" he asks, trying another tack. "Have to admit I'm envious. I've seen a little too much of the inside of this ship."
"I'm sure the children would welcome the chance to get off the Pantera for a few hours," I finally sigh out a reply as I step away from him, moving to lean against the tactical station where Sveta usually sits. It seems Chakotay thoughts follow me there.
"I'm sorry if Sveta angered you. She doesn't always know when to hold back."
The irony of his misreading of the situation causes me to huff out a mirthless breath. If only that abrasive woman really was the one I was angry at. That'd make things a lot simpler for him, wouldn't it?
"She hardly instils confidence," I remark. "I wouldn't trust her to command anything."
I watch as he tenses up visibly. "I didn't really have a great deal of choice if I wanted to keep my face out of all this." His jaw sets. "I thought you'd have appreciated that."
Frustration fizzes through my veins. "You expect me to be grateful that you didn't flaunt your involvement and ruin your career a little faster?"
"I'm saying I thought you would understand why I couldn't take command here."
He slides awkwardly off the pilot's seat, clearly stiff from his injuries, and moves into my personal space. I'm up against Sveta's station so I can't back away from him and he knows it. His face is suddenly very close now as he looks down at me. Some of the tension seems to leave his expression, as if he's shifting gear internally. He gently clasps my upper arms.
"I told you I intended to find a way back from this," he reminds me, his voice low. "A way back to you and to Starfleet too if possible - and I meant it."
I hold myself rigid, making the few centimetres that separate me from him count. I glare up at him. "Can't say it looked like there'd be much of a 'way back' when we arrived. If you'd detonated those mines it could have meant the end of the peace agreement with the Breen. It could have cost so many lives!"
"We can't know that. And it was a calculated risk." The urge to justify puts the edge back in his tone. "The aim was to stop them landing here, nothing more."
"Nothing more?" I shake my head in disbelief. "I honestly don't understand how can you say that!"
"What is it that you want me to say, Kathryn?" A frown forms on his face as he begins to lose his cool. "That I'm sorry I came?"
"That'd be a start." My biceps tense further beneath his fingers.
"You know I can't."
I finally push past him, desperate for some space that isn't dominated by his large frame. I stand on the other side of the small bridge. "Actually, I don't want you to say anything. Just get yourself back to your home colony so you can maintain your damn cover story."
His bows his head, perching his hands on his hips, and I suspect he's no longer really listening to me.
"Although, perhaps you should actually go on a spiritual retreat," I toss across the distance I'm guarding between us. "I'm sure this little operation has given you plenty to meditate about."
His eyes flash up to mine and I feel a satisfaction as bitter as my tart retort. Guess that got his attention.
"Just get yourself back to Earth in time to captain Voyager on her next mission."
He pulls himself up to his full height. "Understood, Admiral." He holds my gaze, dark eyes unflinching. "Now, I'd be grateful if Kathryn could explain exactly why she's so angry with me. Because, frankly, I don't understand."
"No. You don't."
"Tell me then. Tell me why you're still so mad."
He's struggling to keep his frustration in check, and for some reason it just incenses me more.
I know what he's thinking. The situation now is far from the disaster it could have been. No one has had to leave their planet, no one was killed, no one from Starfleet will know Chakotay was here, and, even if they did find out, the operation he helped plan was aborted in the nick of time. The crisis has been resolved in just over a week. Things may have been hard, but as long as I can take the long view, find the good in it, he thinks that he and I will be okay.
I'm not sure I even want to talk to him now, but words come tumbling out, detached from any further reflection.
"What on earth did you think so few of you could achieve with such limited, antiquated technology against a force like the Breen? From where I was standing it looked like a suicide mission."
This seems to get to him, because he falters and steps back to lean against the pilot's chair again, rubbing a hand across his face.
I remember that he has a concussion and several cracked ribs, although right now I'm finding that I'm not particularly interested in his comfort. I take a deep breath to try to centre myself. "I'm angry because you still don't trust me. Still, after everything."
"Kathryn, this-"
"You need to let Tom finish treating you," I cut him off. "I'll send B'Elanna over to help with repairs to your key systems. As soon as you've said your goodbyes to Sekaya and her family I suggest you get out of here."
My curt response leaves him looking stricken and furious at the same time and it throws me off balance again. I straighten my spine, ball my fist and push back against the invisible force that pulls between us.
I wouldn't even try to deny that I still love him. But love alone isn't going to keep us together. I have to face reality. If you want to share your life with someone, then you need to be able to do just that – share. And it seems at least one of us doesn't know how. Maybe I'd been kidding myself before. Maybe he's too set in his ways to ever really let someone else in.
At that moment Tom's head appears in the doorway. I refuse to look at Chakotay. "Chakotay is ready for you," I announce.
Then, with what feels like a physical wrench, I call for a beam out and I leave him behind.
[TBC]