CHAPTER SEVEN
It is Logical
"The ship has set itself to self-destruct," Tuvok said, breaking the silence. "The four Kazons have beamed to the surface of the planet. There is one minute and six seconds until the ship will explode."
The crew had watched, hearts stopped, as the Enterprise slipped unnoticed under the Kazon-controlled ship. Voyager had finally been able to get readings on the vessel, and there were only four crewmen on board, all Kazon. Voyager had been able to diminish the ship's shields enough for the Enterprise to penetrate them at its weakest point, but the damage they had done to Voyager was, by far, worse. There were no causalities, but the Doctor was being flooded with injuries and the ship's blasts had broken through their outer-hull. If the stakes of getting Kirk and his crew back to their own time-frame were not so dire, Captain Janeway would have retreated. But, together, they had been able to defeat the ship. Spock had remained silent and stiff the entire time, and Janeway couldn't help but notice. The Spock, Ambassador Spock, the elder version of the science officer that this crew knew, didn't stand by watch anything silently. Time, and death, had yet to change him.
"What's the status on the Enterprise?" Janeway asked. The ship began breaking apart before them, and the Enterprise was still sitting under it, motionless.
Chakotay looked at his screen. "They are still trying to bring their warp core online. They're dead in the water, Captain."
"Forty-seven seconds," Tuvok updated.
"Janeway to Engineering. Are we able to jump to warp?"
"Yes, Captain."
"B'Elanna, I need everything we can spare focused on the tractor beam."
"Understood."
"Tom, the second we lock onto the ship, get us out of here as fast as we can without compromising the beam," Janeway demanded and he complied. They grabbed onto the historic ship and jumped to warp, the blasts from the remaining systems on the enemy ship hitting them like ripples in the water. They beat the explosion with just enough time, the discharges barely searing the aft shielding.
Another ripple hit Voyager, a big ripple, and Janeway stumbled. "Report," she said walking over to the helm. "Was that another explosion?"
It was Chakotay, again, who responded. "No, it was the Enterprise," he said, his voice marked with confusion. "They're sending a warp pulse up the tractor beam."
"What? Why?" She leaned over and examined the console next to Tom. "Hail them, Harry."
"Communications took heavy damage. Attempting to bring back on-line," Harry replied.
She turned to Spock. "What are they doing?" she sternly demanded from him, but Spock coolly raised an eyebrow. The intimidation she was able to command over the rest of the crew had no hold over him.
"Captain, I have been here, with you, for the entirety of the conflict. I have been restricted from use of your ship's scanners, and I have seen and heard only what your crew has reported aloud. It is therefore illogical to assume that simply because I know these people, I should have blind insight into their every course of action."
Another ripple hit the ship. "It's the Enterprise again," Chakotay reported. "They've broken the hold from the beam and they're," he looked up and locked eyes with Janeway, "reversing course back to the planet."
"Drop out of warp, Lieutenant. Go after them." Janeway crossed her arms and took in the sight on the view screen. The Enterprise, still without warp drive, was headed back to the site of the explosion at full impulse, as fast as their ship could go.
"I can offer you only this, Captain," Spock said, taking a few steps closer to her. "If Captain Kirk is trying to get back to the planet, he does have a reason for doing so."
"Communications back on-line, hailing the Enterprise," Harry narrated.
"On screen, Ensign."
The view screen flickered in and out for a few seconds, and when the image came into focus before them, Tuvok raised an eyebrow and everyone else on the Bridge stiffened. Including Spock.
Janeway swallowed the lump in her throat. "Mr. Scott, where is Captain Kirk?" she asked, afraid of the answer.
"The enemy vessel beamed him onto the surface of the planet just before they exploded. I'm sorry if the warp pulse did any more damage to your ship, Captain, but we weren't getting a signal from you and we needed to get your attention. Our warp core is still off-line, our engineers are busy trying to adjust the anti-matter reactors so we can get it back without risking a cold-start implosion. Can you lock onto us with another beam and bring us back at warp speed?"
Janeway let it all sink in. The Kazons had somehow decided to lock onto Kirk and beam him, and only him, to the surface of the planet. A million thoughts ran through her mind. Why couldn't they have picked a red shirt? Was he a prisoner, a hostage? Did they beam him to a detention center, or out into the middle of the desert? How did they know he was of any importance to Voyager? Or did they just pick someone from the Bridge? And of course, in the midst of a million unanswerable questions, was the pang of guilt threatening to overtake her composure.
"What do plan on doing, Mr. Scott?" Janeway asked, arms once again folded. "Demanding they release him? I hate to remind you that our ship, on the very cutting edge of 24th century Federation technology, was no match for that ship. The only reason the Enterprise escaped unharmed was because they didn't look twice at your ship until it was too late, and if they had, we wouldn't be having this discussion now." Mr. Scott was loosing his polite disposition, and a steaming McCoy in the background looked like he was going to jump through the screen and strangle her. Janeway sighed. Obviously she wasn't going to leave Kirk there, but they needed a better plan. An actual plan. "Lets all take a breath and meet to discuss our options. We can-"
"But, Captain," Scotty interrupted. "By the time we-"
"Lieutenant Commander Scott," it was Spock who stepped up to the screen and interrupted him. "I do not need to remind you that in the absence of the Captain, it is I who am in command of the Enterprise. We will retreat until we are able to discuss our options."
"Aye, sir." Mr. Scott said, defeated.
"If we keep the ships behind the moon of the nearest planet, we should be hidden from their sensors but with a probe we might be able to get readings from the planet's surface," Ensign Kim offered. Janeway nodded.
"Lock onto the Enterprise with another beam, but don't jump to warp. We don't want to draw any attention to ourselves. Lay in a course for that moon." Tom nodded, and on the screen Scotty directed Uhura to end the link.
"Are you ready, Captain?" Chakotay asked, popping his head through the door of her Ready Room. "No one's getting any younger, you know."
All of the senior officers from both ships, except for The Doctor who was still treating injuries in sick bay, were assembled and waiting for them in the Briefing Room on Voyager. She would have preferred to meet on the Enterprise to limit their contact with a century's worth of advancement, but Voyager's sensors were more accurate and the game had slightly changed. They still had over a week to get to the conduit's next opening, but they had no idea who took Kirk and why, or what they were going to have to do about it.
"Coming, coming," she said, putting down a PADD and heading for the door. But Chakotay walked all the way in and the doors shut behind him.
"Kathryn, this isn't your fault," he said abruptly. She stopped in her tracks and looked into his eyes, his gaze penetrating her soul. How does he do that? "I know you're letting yourself think it is. You're thinking that you shouldn't have pulled them out of the conduit, even though there was no way they would have been able to reverse course back through it. You're blaming yourself for jumping to warp before the Enterprise could beam Kirk back, even though there was no way to know they took Kirk, and still even if we had stayed behind even a few seconds more, both ships would have been consumed by the explosion. You're thinking that the Enterprise was an innocent bystander in a fight with a species that you made an enemy of, even though it was the Kazon that declared war on us, and all we did to provoke them was refuse to violate our principles." He moved closer to her. "This isn't your fault."
"Chakotay..." She hadn't even really had time to stop and examine all the ways she felt guilty, she had been too busy trying to devise a plan to retrieve Kirk. But he had already examined it and moved to counteract it, and she loved him for that. I love him. "Chakotay, I-" he shook his head and put a finger on her lips, and she quieted. He moved even closer to her and put his hands on her arms, and left them there for a moment to gauge her reaction. When she didn't move away, he pulled her into him, his hand holding her head on his chest.
"You're not alone," Chakotay whispered and she smiled against his chest. He did have blind insight into her course of action. She couldn't explain what had happened or why all of the sudden all the walls of protocol that were keeping them apart seemed less important. Maybe the cowboy-attitude of Kirk's crew was getting to her. When Kathryn mentioned the Temporal Prime Directive to Dr. McCoy when they had been deciding which ship to meet on, he had replied, To hell with the damned Temporal Prime Directive! Spock had remained emotionless and simply looked over at McCoy, but his Vulcan silence loudly echoed his agreement.
That certainly wasn't about to become Janeway's attitude about Starfleet standards. But the warmth of Chakotay's embrace just strengthened her, revived her spirit. And maybe it wasn't such a bad thing for a Captain to have.
She broke away from him and looked into his eyes, "Are you ready, Chakotay? No one's getting any younger, you know."
Janeway and Chakotay finally made their way to the Briefing Room, which looked like something straight out of a holonovel. Kirk's crew was outnumbered eight to three, with only The Doctor and, of course, Kirk missing. Janeway couldn't help but marvel at how many more voices she had to listen to than Kirk did – and she was grateful for it.
The crew made the contrast between centuries evident; Janeway's crew on one side of the table, and Kirk's on the other. To Voyager's officers, the early Starfleet uniforms looked like something they would wear to bed, or, of course, as a costume to a party. And to the Enterprise's crew, Voyager's uniforms just looked incredibly uncomfortable.
Everyone had been sitting in silence, unsure of what to do or say before the Captain and First Officer arrived. Janeway and Chakotay had walked in on an air of awkward stares. Everyone trying to get a reading on one another.
B'Elanna was staring at Scotty, mulling over all the contexts in which she remembered his name coming up at the Academy. Scotty was staring at Seven, mulling over all the contexts in which a dinner invitation would be appropriate. Seven was staring at her PADD. Neelix was shifting his gaze back and forth between the Vulcans, who seemed to be staring at each other, sharing some kind of Vulcan connection through the intensity of their locked gazes. McCoy's eyes were fixed on Neelix, and he looked only moments away from grabbing a medical tricorder and scanning the Talaxian. Harry and Tom were staring at each other, for no reason at all.
"I'm sorry for the delay," Janeway started, carefully breaking the trance they were all in, as she and Chakotay took their seats. "I'm sure introductions were already made in our absence, now lets get to work. Mr. Scott, what is the status on Enterprise?"
"We have taken care of the damage to the aft shielding, and are still trying to adjust the anti-matter reactors and re-enforce the core," Scotty replied. "The repairs should take about a week... but I'll have it ready by this time tomorrow."
"Captain, with the work Mr. Scott's team has already done to the core, we can fix the rest of the damage to the Enterprise's reactors without even leaving Voyager, it should only take about an hour or so," B'Elanna said, offering a PADD to Scotty. "But Voyager is going to need some serious work. We suffered multiple breaches to the hull, decks six through nine are without power, and almost all internal systems sustained some damage from the Kazon ship's torpedoes."
"Thank you, lass. I appreciate the assistance. With your approval, Captain, I could send a team of engineers to assist Lt. Torres with the repairs to your ship," Scotty offered. "We might not be much help figuring out your technology, but we can point a laser where ya tell us to." Janeway let the offer sink in.
"Any help would be great, Captain. We have a lot of ground to cover," B'Elanna said. She wanted to work with Mr. Scott, but her double-motives aside, it was imperative they have Voyager up and running as quickly as possible.
"All right. I will allow you to beam aboard a small group of your senior engineering staff. B'Elanna, you'll be responsible for them. Keep them focused on minor malfunctions while you and your team take care of the bio-neural reboots and worry about the core. Understood?" They both nodded. "Seven, what can you tell us about the planet's shielding?"
"The shielded area of the planet is relatively small but is comprised of the same advanced technology used on the enemy ship. There is a dampening field over all of the planet which makes it difficult to get any readings at all. The only information our probe has been able to gather has come at sporadic intervals when their shields momentarily go down as they release a shuttle craft. Since we have arrived at this moon, they have deployed six crafts from their northernmost continent, all headed in the same direction," Seven informed them. To ease some tension she added, "In the opposite direction from our position."
"What has the probe been able to tell us about the surface of the planet?" Janeway asked.
"Well, not much," Harry responded. "There seems to be one main metropolis, where the shuttles are being launched. According to the Enterprise's scan for Kirk's life-sign, his initial location was somewhere just outside of the city. From what we can tell, there are a series of tunnels connecting the main metropolis with many smaller infrastructures... but there are few to no life-signs in many of them. My best guess is that this planet is used for weapons and ship testing, possibly even a prison. It would account for their intense security measures, and the shuttles headed in one direction. They might be traveling back home."
"We have come to the same hypothesis, Captain," Spock agreed, his hands intertwined in front of him. "The only way to get onto the surface of the planet is to take a shuttle and to beam down as a shuttle craft is launched from the city and the shields go down. Either one of our ships would be too easily detected by the planet's sensors."
"Agreed," Tom said. "I could take the Delta Flyer; it would have the best chance at surviving an attack should the planet detect us. I could beam down and send it back on auto-pilot."
"I will be the one beaming down to the surface," Spock stated firmly.
"Now wait just one damn minute, Spock," McCoy said. "What makes you think I'm going to let you beam down there into god-knows-what and let yourself get thrown into prison with Jim? What good will that do anybody?"
Spock raised an eyebrow and swiveled his chair around to meet McCoy's stare. "I was unaware I needed your approval, Doctor."
"Gentlemen," Janeway said curtly, standing up from her chair with a show of authority. "No one from either crew is beaming down onto the surface of the planet until we are positive that we have exhausted all diplomatic channels first."
Spock cocked his head to the side, fingers still laced together, and took in the situation. "With all due respect, Captain, I have weighed all of the options logically and I have made the decision. I am taking a shuttle to the planet, but it is unnecessary for you to put any member of your crew at additional risk. I will be going alone."
"I forbid you from stepping foot onto that planet until we have exhausted all diplomatic channels," Janeway repeated. She was in shock at his attitude, it was one thing for Kirk to be reckless and treat space like the wild, wild west – but Spock was a Vulcan, acting rash and... human.
"Using your own logic, Captain, I am already guaranteed success. Just as you have stated that you would never stand by and watch a Federation ship be destroyed, so therefore your involvement with us was always one part of a time-loop scenario, so must I reason here. I would never stand by and leave Captain Kirk a prisoner on an enemy planet, so therefore my involvement in his rescue must also be part of the same loop."
"That's a lot of what-ifs, Spock."
"I will be taking with me a pylic ion discharger, so even in the event that I am unsuccessful, the next rescue team would have a clear path to follow. Logically, if I were to be captured, they would hold me in the same center that they are holding Captain Kirk prisoner."
"The plyic ions would act like a trail of breadcrumbs..." Chakotay said. "And they would only be detected if the Kazons, or whoever else is down there, were scanning for pylic ions specifically."
"I'm sorry," Janeway said, turning back to Spock. "I just can't allow you to take that level of risk with the small amount of data we've collected."
It was Spock's turn to stand up and meet her gaze. "I apologize, Captain, but I must remind you that you, like Dr. McCoy, are not my commanding officer. From my temporal perspective, you are years from having been born. And from your temporal perspective, I outrank you."
"How do you know that?" Janeway asked, taken aback. He did outrank her; in the 24th century he was Starfleet's most revered Ambassador. McCoy and Scotty exchanged a perplexed look.
Spock let his hands part and with a stoic shrug responded, "It is logical."
"It is illogical," Tuvok stated calmly.
The Captain had sent him to reason with his fellow Vulcan. Half-Vulcan, as Tuvok had reminded her. As a young man, his modern history professors had taught him to revere Spock and his father Sarek, Vulcan Ambassador to Earth, along with many great Vulcan minds, but as they studied the actions of Spock's Starfleet records, it was always with a grain of salt. Little bits of human emotion poking through years of Vulcan discipline. He was certain he would not be able to change Spock's mind now, but he had to try. And while this version of Spock had yet to publicly say his most-quoted words of wisdom, Tuvok figured he'd use the Vulcan's own utilitarian logic against him now.
"The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few," Tuvok said.
"...Or the one," Spock said, looking up. He had echoed the same phrase countless times to his own captain, but something told Spock that somehow Tuvok already knew that. "Sometimes, however, the needs of the one outweigh the needs of the many. It is not logical, but it is often true. You are concerned that I will not succeed."
"The probability of you being able to beam onto the planet at the exact time the shuttle bay opens, then being able to avoid the guards we have detected posted outside the exterior of the main infrastructure, then being-"
"The probability of success is 84923 to 1. If this were a game of poker, I would 'fold.' But Captain Kirk has gone against worse odds to retrieve me, and I owe the same loyalty to him. I am not about to endanger either your crew, or Enterprise. The risk is mine alone. I have studied all of the data on the geography of the planet, and I believe I will be successful. And if I am not, then with the pylic radiation, the next attempt at rescue will have a probability of success of 534 to 1. It is a 'win-win scenario,' as Dr. McCoy would say."
"You are acting under the false assumption that Captain Kirk's life is the only one of enormous value to the future. If you were to be killed, the impact it would have on the time-line is unforeseeable."
"I am under the assumption that Captain Kirk's life is of enormous value to me." Tuvok raised an eyebrow at this open show of sentiment. "As my captain, I am sworn by Starfleet to protect him, even if the cost is my own life. But Captain Kirk is more than just my captain, he is my friend."
"Then your decision is based on emotion."
"I see no reason to stay here and be insulted, Commander Tuvok," Spock said, rising to his feet and meeting the Vulcan's emotionless stare. "Are you familiar with the ancient Earth concept of 'destiny,' Tuvok?" The other Vulcan nodded. "They believed that everything that had happened, or was to happen, was already decided by some omniscient being in the clouds who would not adhere to reason. You are requesting me to subscribe to the same notion. You are asking me, and my crew, to refrain from our natural course of action, lest we disrupt the path that has already been pre-destined for us to follow."
"The flaw in your analogy is in the fact that we do not claim to be omniscient beings with a secret hold over your destiny. We are from a point further along in the time-line, and therefore we, simply by default, know the details of your lives. And by the nature of your own career choices and diplomatic endeavors, you have placed yourselves in a position of high influence. It is illogical to assume that Voyager will simply stand by and watch the actions of a group of temporally displaced officers alter the entire status of the universe as we have grown accustomed."
Spock sat back in his chair and looked up at Tuvok, his expression unreadable. "Then it would seem that I must not fail."
Kathryn was pacing back and forth as Chakotay sat calmly in front of her desk in her Ready Room.
"I'm going with him," she said, stopping abruptly. Chakotay just shot her a look that said lets not have this fight.
Before she had a chance to start the fight, the doors beeped and Tuvok entered. Kathryn sat down. "Well?" she asked.
"It seems his resolve is not to be reasoned with. He is most irritatingly... human," Tuvok said. Janeway could almost hear the disdain in her security chief's voice.
"No one's perfect, Tuvok," Chakotay offered. Tuvok nodded slowly, somberly and exited.
"Captain, I am leading the rescue mission," Chakotay said forcefully.
"I'm going, Chakotay. There is no denying that I did get us into this mess, and I should be the one to get us out."
Chakotay opened his mouth to speak but the door chimed again.
"Come in," she said. It was Dr. McCoy, and Janeway held back her disappointment. The only person she really wanted to fight with right now was Chakotay.
"Excuse the interruption, Captain," McCoy began.
"You're not interrupting, Doctor. My door is always open to you and any of your crew," Janeway said diplomatically and braced herself for whatever rant he was about to unleash.
"First of all, you're not going to change Spock's mind about his mission to save the Captain," he said sitting down. "But I don't think we should allow him to go down there alone. I tried to get that through the rock-hard, pointy-eared, stubborn Vulcan head of his but he won't listen to me."
Janeway raised her palm to him and smiled. "I couldn't agree more, Doctor. I will be accompanying Spock to the planet." McCoy raised his eyebrows and Chakotay lowered his. She could tell her First Officer wanted to say something, but wasn't about to undermine her authority in front of Dr. McCoy... who already had no respect for her authority.
"I see." McCoy silently rubbed his lips together in thought. "Commander, do you mind if I have a moment alone with the Captain?" he finally asked. A baffled Chakotay obeyed and exited the room, shooting Janeway a glance that said this-isn't-over.
"What is it I can do for you, Dr. McCoy?"
"I'm going to give you some advice I gave Jim once... Are you okay with speeches?" She had just narrowly escaped one from Chakotay.
"Trust me," Janeway said slightly throwing her hands in the air. "I can't get enough of them."
"Well, all right then." McCoy adjusted himself in the seat in front of her and leaned forward a little. He crossed his hands in front of him. "You've had a century to correct my data on this one, but the truth behind it will be the same in the next century, and the one after that." He seemed like a different man here now, sitting before her. He wasn't furious... he seemed gentle, in an almost paternal way. "In our galaxy, there's a mathematical probability of three million earth-type planets. And in the universe, three million million galaxies like ours. And in all of that, and perhaps more, only one of each of us. Don't destroy the one named Janeway." She squirmed a little at the weight of his sentiment. "Now I know why Spock has decided to take it upon himself to go in blindfolded on this outrageous mission. He would do anything for that man down there. For all his green-blooded, ridiculous, logical nonsense there is one way his human side is constantly reasserting itself, and that's his love for Jim."
"I have heard Spock give many lectures at the Academy, occasionally about Captain Kirk. He always spoke of him in a way that I thought was loving, for a Vulcan. He spoke about you that way too," she smiled.
At that it was McCoy's turn to throw his hands in the air. "Don't you go tellin' me that the Vulcan and I become friends, Captain!" Janeway laughed and shrugged her shoulders. "Angels and ministers of mercy. That's why no one should know too much about their own future... poppycock..." he trailed off. "Anyway, my point is Spock is motivated out of love, which an okay reason to risk your life, in my book. But you are obviously motivated by something else."
He didn't really end on a question, but nevertheless sat patiently and waited for Janeway to answer. She was struggling with a response that would satisfy him, but wouldn't give out too much information. Or, worse, make her look weak. He had sprung from the demeanor of a security detail to one of a ship's counselor, and she was taken by surprise. The expression on her face gave him all he needed anyway, and he stood up.
"Send your First Officer, Captain. Whatever twisted logic you're using to justify the risk, it's not worth it. We need you here."
And with that, McCoy turned and walked out. As casually as if they had been old friends, and he was stopping by to check up on the family. She watched him leave, bewildered. As soon as he was out the door, Chakotay reappeared.
"Kathryn, you're not beaming down to that planet."
"I know. You are."
Whatever Chakotay's next prepared sentence was caught in his throat. "Excuse me?"
"You're right. It's too great a risk. Besides, in this circumstance, your experience with the Maqui makes you the more qualified rescue team."
Chakotay looked at her as confused as she had looked at McCoy, and then he looked at the door. "Did he give you some kind of hypo-spray? Are you drugged?" She laughed and walked over to him. They locked eyes and this time it was Kathryn who moved to embrace him in a hug.
"Be careful," she whispered against his uniform. "You know, love is a worthwhile motivation for personal sacrifice, I've been told," she said looking up at him. "So please don't make me become a martyr to bring you back."
He tightened his hold on her. "I'll do my best."
Kathryn lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling. This would have been the eleventh night in a row she had been awoken by an inappropriate Chakotay-dream. Fortunately, however, she had avoided the issue by avoiding sleep all together. Instead, she tossed and turned in her bed, occasionally asking the computer for the time and counting down the hours till the rescue mission, which she still didn't agree with, would begin.
She couldn't remember a time when she felt less in control.
She had lost control of Chakotay, but that was only as a direct result of her loss of control over her own emotions. Talk about mixed signals, she thought to herself. That poor man.
She had lost control, or, rather, she never had control, over Captain Kirk and his crew. Which, if she had to be honest with herself, was understandable. Never once had she sat back and allowed someone else to dictate her command, or the fates of her crewmen. The officers of the Enterprise were certainly no different, and to them... their focus was on the present. Not on the past, not on the future. It had to be. They were living in the now—and now their captain was captured, their ship had been flung to another time, into another quadrant, and they had get him back and then get themselves back. How ridiculous to ask them to put their lives on hold so Voyager could treat them like relics and decide their fate.
And Kirk was correct, if the tables were turned, she wouldn't blindly follow him wherever he may lead. But that didn't change the fact that now they were ultimately in control over the outcome of Voyager's past, present, and future. The lives of her crew were being decided by the actions of a third party, which was wholly unacceptable. Kathryn could only allow them so much understanding and autonomy, as she wasn't about to risk the future – the past – of the entire Federation to save his crew the discomfort of not being in control. She just had no idea what to do about it.
"Computer, time."
"0500HRS."
Kathryn sighed and got up. The rescue team was scheduled to leave in six hours. Spock had agreed to let Chakotay accompany him, and to let Tom pilot the Flyer in case they fell under attack, but only after some serious pressure from her end.
"Coffee, black," she told the replicator.
A pie appeared. She leaned down and examined it. "Blueberry..." she said, taking the pie. It was Chakotay's favorite, maybe she would save it for him.
"Either you're still mad at me for snapping at you the other day, or B'Elanna's team still hasn't gotten around to fixing you guys yet." She stroked the top of the machine. "Which is it, hmm? I am sorry for being so curt with you, it wasn't your fault I was angry the other morning. Should we try for some coffee again?"
Her door chirped and she jumped. Whoever was at the door couldn't hear her talking to her replicator, but she blushed anyway at the absurdity of the scene. "Just a second," she called as she went to grab a robe to throw over her pajamas. I hope it's not Chakotay, she thought. No, that's not true. I do hope it's Chakotay. No, that's not true, she thought, shaking her head on the way to the door. I hope it's Seven. I don't want to have things be any harder than they have to be with him. But it's probably Chakotay.
She pressed the pad and her door opened. It was Chakotay. She smiled in spite of herself. His hair was tussled and his uniform was un-pressed... he looked like he had just climbed out of bed.
"Come in, Commander."
"Did I wake you, Captain?" he asked.
"Oh, no, I was just... no, no you didn't," Kathryn replied. "What can I do for you?"
The doors shut behind Chakotay and he sighed. He looked miserable, and something told her that she hadn't been the only one up all night. He didn't say anything, but he headed for her couch and took a seat. She followed, cautiously, and watched his eyes land on the pie on the dining room table.
"Oh, I replicated this for you!" she said grabbing it and bringing it over to him with a warm smile. "Kind of a bon-voyage gift."
He examined her for a moment and then let out a hearty laugh. His whole face brightened about twenty watts. "If you want coffee, you have to ask it for blueberry pie," he explained, taking the pie. "I do have to say, this has been one of my favorite replicator malfunctions... luckily, you seem to be the only one who knows of my affinity for the dessert. Otherwise I'm sure I'd be up to my knees in them by now."
She laughed and rolled her eyes. "Nothing gets by you, does it?"
"Not a thing," he said, taking a bite. She went back over to the replicator and asked for a blueberry pie, and, sure enough, it gave her a steaming cup of coffee. She mouthed "thank you" to the machine, then returned to her seat in front of him and steeled herself for whatever discussion he wanted to have in her quarters... at five o'clock in the morning. He took the cue and set down the pie.
"Listen, Kathryn, I know – trust me, I know – that your position on us isn't going to change. And you know my feelings. But clearly something has changed these last few days, and I want to talk about it."
Mixed signals.
I'm sending him mixed signals, that's what he wants to say but he's too polite to say it. Dear man. She was hot, she was cold. She was flipping the switch between Kathryn and Captain too quickly for him to keep up. He kept pressing on the barriers that kept them apart, and she kept letting him push them down. Then she built them back up again. But it had been her who went to hug him last night, and it had been her who vocalized her love for him just the night before that. What did she expect from him now? She didn't even know; it was impossible for him to know.
It was Kirk's story about Edith Keeler, mainly. Having to watch her be hit by an automobile, fully able to pull her out of the way but duty-bound to let her die. She still couldn't get it out of her mind. And just having them all here, blissfully unaware of their futures, which her crew knew well enough to write reports on. Would history have looked back on Kirk differently, had he taken a wife? But it wasn't about marriage, it was about marriage to a member of his crew. And Kirk knew the line to draw. He certainly wasn't short on romance, but he did keep his hands off his yeoman.
"Chakotay... I know. I'm sorry." She wanted to sit next to him, hold his hand, let themselves take comfort in each other but she knew she had to stop giving in. She had to draw the line, right here, right now. She stood up. "I'm sorry, but we can't do this. You're right, we can't have a relationship. I love you, I do, you know I do. And I can't really tell you what has made me... open up these past few days, but it needs to stop."
Chakotay looked up at her with a sad smile. "So... you're breaking up with me, then?"
She tried to laugh, but it was a pitiful attempt. "It's not you, it's me."
"Of course it is," Chakotay said, standing up and moving towards her. His hair was a mess, and all she wanted to do was brush it away from his face. It took her entire reserve of strength to keep her fingers from stroking the top of his forehead. "You're my best friend, you know," he said simply.
"You're mine."
"That's enough for me, Kathryn. It really is. You know what Tennyson said, 'Better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.' I've loved being allowed to hold you, to touch you, these past few days but I don't look at it as loss. I don't need that. I don't need physical contact to be happy. I need you."
"I told you once that I couldn't imagine a day without you. If it was true then, it's my entire foundation now, Chakotay."
"Can I at least have one last hug?" he asked with a valiant attempt at a playful tone. She began to decline the offer but he spoke first. "I might die on this mission, you know."
She scoffed and slapped his arm, and he chuckled. It wasn't funny. Twisted, sick man, she thought angrily. But she moved in and allowed him to scoop her up and hold her, and, once again, it took every ounce of strength she had to break away from his embrace.
Hours of research and planning later, the group of senior officers from two different time periods were gathered in front of the Delta Flyer to see the rescue team off and discuss last-minute tactical information and strategy.
They all said their good-byes in a very Starfleet manner; a lot of "good lucks" and "god-speeds." Janeway and Chakotay only nodded somberly at each other, their sentiments had already been exchanged. Dr. McCoy's furious demeanor was back, and he was hounding the senior science officer to be careful and to "not do anything Jim wouldn't do." Spock just nodded along, arms folded, not even barely hiding his annoyance at the ranting doctor.
Tom and B'Elanna held on to each other, silently, until Tom gently pushed her away and scanned her face. "Hey," he said pulling the Klingon's chin up and looking into her eyes, which were growing misty, "this is just one step up from routine, B'Elanna. We're going to be fine. I really don't know why you're so worried."
"I know, I know," she said, blinking away the tears. "I don't know why I'm being so emotional. Just... just be careful, Tom," she smiled. He nodded and pulled her into him again before heading to the Delta Flyer.
B'Elanna walked off and took her place beside her fellow chief engineer. Scotty tenderly put his hand on her shoulder. "He'll be back soon, lass. What do you say we head back to Engineering and get our hands greasy?"
B'Elanna smiled at him and stifled a laugh. "There is absolutely, positively no grease on my warp core, Mr. Scott."
"Ah, well, that takes a bit o' fun out of it," he joked. "Y'know, you can just call me Scotty."
She turned her head towards him and took in the invitation for a first-name basis. "And you can call me B'Elanna... Scotty," she said with a smile. "I've always wondered, do they call you 'Scotty' because your name's Scott, or because you're Scottish?"
"That's a very good question," he chuckled as they walked off. "And if you get a few rounds o' whiskey in me, I might start a-talkin'." He slapped his hand on the side of the Turbolift. "Say, are these things still running on dilithium?" B'Elanna didn't stifle her laugh at that one.
Captain Janeway watched as the engineering team left, marveling for a moment at how quickly they had forged a friendship. The rest of officers exited the shuttle bay to allow the Delta Flyer to take off, and she shot one last glance over her shoulder at it. Well, at Chakotay.
The look on her face was not lost on Dr. McCoy.
"Twenty seconds to launch. Powering impulse engines," Tom narrated. "Bringing aft thrusters online."
"Ten seconds to launch," Chakotay counted down. Spock sat in back, he had received explicit instructions to not interact with any of the technology on the Flyer. He was to sit back and let Lt. Paris and the Commander fly the shuttle, and so far he had no reason to doubt their competence.
"Close the hatch," Tom instructed.
"The hatch is sealed."
"All right, here we go, gentlemen! Give me aft thrusters!" Tom said enthusiastically. Chakotay complied, and they felt the vibrations as the Flyer lifted gracefully out of the shuttle bay and flew away from Voyager. "At current velocity, we'll reach the planet in about fifteen minutes. Should be a pretty smooth ride."
"All right," Chakotay said getting up and sitting in the back next to Spock. "Lets go over this one last time."
Spock cocked his head at Chakotay. "I have been briefed, and then re-briefed, on the objectives of this mission, Commander. I do not feel that it is necessary that we regurgitate the details to each other now."
"I know, but humor me. I'm only human," Chakotay said with a grin. Spock was not amused.
"We will enter orbit of the planet directly opposite the position of the metropolis, and wait for a shuttle to be launched and the shields to dissipate. We will then remain just long enough for Lt. Paris to beam us to the surface of the planet. The coordinates we have chosen are 5.786 kilometers from the outermost infrastructure. Lt. Paris will use a biomatter scrambling field generated from the Delta Flyer in an attempt to mask our transport signal from the planet's sensors, and then he will return to Voyager. We will be able to contact the ship with your miniature communicator, your 'comm-badge,' but there will be no way to conceal the communications signal and therefore we must remain out of the contact with the ship until we have found a way to retrieve the Captain. Is this a satisfactory analysis of the plan?"
"Yes, Mr. Spock, thank you. I only want to make sure we're prepared. We don't know what we're going to find when we get down there. As a Maquis, this kind of infiltration was commonplace, and with your resourcefulness, I'm confident we'll be able to bring Kirk back safely."
"I am unfamiliar with that species, Commander," Spock said with a hint of curiosity.
"Maquis? Oh, no, it was... well, it's not important," Chakotay brushed off Spock's inquiry.
"You know, Mr. Spock," Tom called behind him. "I've always been an admirer of the internal design of the original Enterprise."
"It is a great deal more... vibrant than your ship, Mr. Paris."
"Oh, that's not what I mean. I designed this shuttle actually, with a bit of homage to early space ship designs," he replied. "I love the way the buttons, knobs, and levers make you really... feel the ship you're piloting. Today everything is flat and responds to your touch. It's... you don't get to connect with your vessel."
Spock raised an eyebrow. "I fail to see the advantage of being able to 'feel' the ship. Eliminating the knobs, buttons, and levers would only boost the efficiency of the pilot."
"Well, yeah, sure, if you want to strip all romance out of it," Tom said.
"You would get along with Seven of Nine, Spock," Chakotay informed him. "She loves efficiency.
"The cyborg?" Spock asked.
"Yes, although she is almost completely human now."
"Fascinating. What is the meaning of her designation 'Seven of Nine'?" Spock asked.
The ship shook violently and Chakotay returned to his station. "Structural integrity at 67%. Report, Tom. What was that?" he demanded.
"I'm getting mixed signals. We've been hit by some kind of spacial force field, Commander. It's locked onto us and it's pulling us towards the planet, but we're also caught in beam that's pushing us away. We're being pulled and pushed in both directions... the spacial force field is winning."
"They have detected the shuttle," Spock asserted. "What is the current distance between this vessel and the planet? Are we within transport range?"
"At the rate we're being pulled in, less than a minute and we will be," Tom answered.
"The field is tearing micro-fractures in the hull," Chakotay reported. "We need to break free of the field, Tom."
"We need to get within transport range, Chakotay. The Flyer will hold up against the field as long as-" A blast hit the ship. "-as long as they don't open fire! Evasive maneuver gamma nine."
"The good news is the planet has had to lower its shields to deploy its weapons."
"I can still engage the biomatter scrambling field, but it might not be effective if they're watching us. I'll stick around for a minute and keep their eyes on the sky while you guys find somewhere to hide, but I'll only be able to fend them off for another few minutes." Another blast rattled the ship. "Engaging the field, sending the coordinates to the transporter. You guys ready?"
"We're ready. As soon as we're on the surface, don't worry about us. Retreat to Voyager. Understood, Lieutenant?"
"Aye-aye, Commander," Tom said, not taking his eyes away from his console. "Engaging the transporter." He looked up. "Good luck."
Spock and Chakotay nodded and with a swirl of lights they dematerialized from the Flyer.
"All right, Kazons," Tom said quietly. "You want to dance? Lets dance."
The door to her Ready Room chirped, and Janeway looked up from the pile of data she was trying to lose herself in. "Come in." It was, yet again, Dr. McCoy. He seemed to really want to test the theory that her door was always open.
"Good afternoon," McCoy said as he strode in casually, taking a seat on her couch against the wall, back again to his friendly demeanor. His smile was warm enough to melt ice and she couldn't resist but to grin back at him. "How are you doing, Captain?"
"Doctor, can I assist you with something? Or did you just come here to chat?"
"I just came here to chat," he stated very matter-of-factly.
Janeway laughed softly at his honesty. "Well, doctor, I'm sorry, but-"
"We're not in Sick Bay, ma'am," he interrupted. "You can call me Bones." Everyone on Kirk's ship seem to be on a first-name basis. Well, a nick-name basis. Everyday was casual Friday, Janeway thought, amused.
"Okay, Dr. Bones," she said with a smirk. "I am sorry, but I have a mountain of paperwork to get through. I've been distracted for the past few days, and now I really do need to focus. Perhaps we could grab lunch in the Mess Hall tomorrow?"
McCoy was unfazed. "What has you so distracted, Captain?" he asked coyly.
"Well, I can see it's not of much consequence to you, Dr. McCoy, but the Enterprise has cast a pretty huge shadow over my week," she said playfully.
"No, I don't think that's it. I think your mind has been on your First Officer," McCoy said nonchalantly, yet deliberately. She turned her chair towards him and gave him her full attention, jaw slightly dropped. She couldn't believe the nerve he had to come in here and accuse her of harboring secret feelings for her First Officer.
"Excuse me?" she said, an eyebrow up, with a tone that dared him to continue. He continued.
"Listen, Captain," McCoy said getting up and flattening his uniform. "I understand why you don't want to talk about it. And I promise that you're not as obvious about your feelings as my previous statement might indicate. In fact, if Spock hadn't said something, I would have been completely oblivious to the stolen glances and dilated pupils you two kids share when you're in the same room."
She wanted to bury her face in her hands, but she forced herself to maintain eye contact with the Doctor. Spock had alerted him of her feelings? If these people could tell after five minutes alone with her and Chakotay the feelings they had for each other, there was no way the crew was oblivious to them.
He paused, searching for his words, and continued. "But I also understand that you're trapped out here in the Delta Quadrant with no one to talk to but your crew, who you can't confide in because... well, because they're your crew. And the one person with whom you should be able to discuss your feelings and opinions openly, well, he's the source of the problem."
McCoy leaned against her desk and met her dangerous glare with soft, mischievous eyes. "And, thanks to you, I find myself useless. Jim is gone, Spock is gone, there are no wounded crew on the Enterprise. I have been prohibited from visiting your Sick Bay and have been restricted from contact with your chief medical officer. There is nothing for me to do but act as counselor to a Captain who has none. And, to add icing to the therapeutic cake, I will soon be gone and unable to share your feelings with anyone! I am the perfect confidant! If it makes you feel better, I'll even sign a doctor-patient confidentiality agreement."
She rested her chin in her palm and took in his words. He actually seemed to genuinely want to help ease her burden. She didn't understand this man at all, and before she could analyze the consequences of her actions, she stood up and motioned McCoy back to the couch. She wasn't sure if it was because of his kind, Southern quality that made her want to open up, or because of the sheer emotional exhaustion she felt. Maybe it was because she still couldn't shake the feeling that she knew him.
"Okay, Doctor," she said. "Lets talk." He smiled widely.
They sat down and she let out a deep breath. She hadn't even said anything yet, but she felt as if a ton of bricks had been lifted from her shoulders. It had been years... nearing a decade, since she had been able to speak openly with someone. Except Chakotay. But even then, Dr. McCoy was right, he was the source of her emotional turmoil. McCoy was looking at her expectantly, and she took another deep breath. She had forgotten how this open-conversation thing worked.
McCoy understood the hesitation and began for her. "Well, what's keeping you guys apart?"
She laughed at the mixture of innocence and absurdity in the question. "You're not actually asking me that, right?"
"I most certainly am asking you that! I get it, Starfleet protocol, blah blah..." he trailed off and waved his hand in dismissal. "You might never return to the Alpha Quadrant. You better have a damn good reason why you're willing to sacrifice your life, your soul, to uphold a rule in some footnote of some line of some paragraph of some Starfleet command manual."
She cocked her head at him. "It's a little bit more important of a rule than that. Especially because we're lost out here and may never get back to the Alpha Quadrant, although I'm far from giving up on returning home. I need to maintain the command structure."
"I see," McCoy said, absorbing her argument. "So... is it Chakotay that you don't have faith in, or is it your crew? Or, even worse, do you just not have faith in yourself?"
"Excuse me?" her voice was defensive, but his candor with her was like a splash of cold water on a summer day, and she soaked it in.
"Do you not trust that Chakotay would be able to compartmentalize enough to keep his feelings for you out of his duties as First Officer? Or do you not trust that your crew would still recognize your authority if they knew you were... giving into biology? Or do you not trust yourself to be able to separate the Captain and Kathryn?"
He sounded just like Chakotay while they were waiting on New Earth to be taken back up to Voyager, before he had given up and subscribed to her insistence that they couldn't have a relationship beyond their professional one. She sighed. She had easily dismissed Chakotay's arguments then, but now, sitting here with a random historical third party, years later, she wasn't so steadfast. After all, she had been separating the Captain and Kathryn this entire time.
"Chakotay would be great. He wouldn't be caught off guard, and he would keep his hands where they belong while we were on the Bridge," she said with wry smile. "And the crew... they would be gallant and gracious and... and they would be happy for us. I, however," she pinched the top of her nose, "I am a nervous wreck right now, and we're not even together."
"Good golly, I didn't say it was going to be easy!" he said, exasperated, shaking his head. "I'm going to tell you something I told Spock once, after Jim had fallen for a woman who turned out to be a highly advanced android... who didn't know she was an android..."
Kathryn gave him a confused look, and McCoy shrugged. "It's a long story. Anyway, I told Spock that I felt sorrier for him than I did for the captain, who was devastated and broken-hearted, because Spock'll never know the things that love can drive a man to... the ecstasies, the miseries, the broken rules, the desperate chances, the glorious failures... and the glorious victories. All of these things he'll never know, simply because the word 'love' isn't written into his Vulcan book of rules. You're denying yourself the same thing, because it's written into your book of rules and regulations that you must. Love's not an easy thing, Captain. But it is a powerful thing. A strong thing. And a good thing."
"But it's selfish to put my own needs above the needs of the crew, Doctor. If we had met on a deep space assignment that had an end in sight, I know exactly how it would have panned out. We would have subtly flirted in the Turbolift, but maintained a professional distance from one another. We would brush up against each other in the halls, letting our hands touch slightly..." she felt herself slipping into helpless fantasy and she re-focused and returned to the conversation. "But then we would keep walking and not look back. And as soon as our assignment was completed, we would have given everything to each other. If the circumstances were different, we would probably be married with children by now. I can't imagine my life without him. But I demand Starfleet standards from my crew, and I must demand them from myself," her voice was firm but her eyes threatened to well up and spill over.
"It's a mistake, you know," McCoy said softly, leaning forward and putting his hand over hers. He squeezed it gently and, looking away, she let a tear escape. Who is this man? she wondered, suddenly sure that she had felt his hand cover hers before today. "You've held yourself together long enough, Captain. You've taken care of yourself and this ship, and I'm sure countless other crews you've encountered. It's time to let him take care of you. You're absolutely right; it'll hurt worse when he beams down into the unknown of an uncharted planet. It'll be harder to maintain your composure when he's on a shuttle that's under fire." She looked back and him and wiped at tears on her face. "But the times in between the dangers, the moments when it's just you and him, that's what makes the struggle the rest of the time worth it."
Janeway looked back into his eyes. This strange man was yelling at her one minute and spelling her life out to her the next. She loved Chakotay, but she just wasn't sure she was up to leading a double-life.
"Dr. McCoy, I-"
Harry's voice over the intercom cut her off. "Captain, the Delta Flyer is within range. It's sustained heavy damage, but there's one life-sign aboard. Tom's hailing us now."
"Acknowledged. On my way." She shook her head and wiped her face one more time, and steeled herself before she stood up. She wanted to say something to McCoy, to thank him, but he just smiled and shook his head. He didn't need to hear it. The doctor stood up and tenderly led her out to the Bridge.
