A/N: I don't own "Star Trek."
The Targ escaped Trill territory without suffering too much damage. Tom finally admitted to having a bit of experience flying ships, acted as Ayala's co-pilot, and wound up doing most of the work. Tuvok, still in his "other" personality, did a remarkable job at tactical, taking out Trill ships like flies, while Paris maneuvered the ship through the debris field.
When they finally reached Turkana IV, Tuvok performed another meditation, returning to his default personality. When the Vulcan rose, appearing as his usual emotionless self, Harry couldn't help asking the personal questions everyone else was scared to ask.
"Do you remember, being the 'other' Tuvok?"
"Vaguely." Tuvok glanced around the room. "It is not unlike awaking from a dream." He blinked. "Stadi is dead…as is Mr. Cavit."
"And Kenny McCormick." Janeway added flatly. "They knew the risks."
"You will need to assign a new first officer." Tuvok reminded her. "Given my…condition, I may not be the ideal candidate, despite being next in line."
"Let's worry about getting our ship, first." Janeway said.
Janeway and Tuvok met Jadzia and Bashir in a trashy inn. The young Trill grinned brightly when Janeway approached her with the metal container. Julian, who had some medical experience, performed the joining right there, on the un-made bed. Everyone held their breath as the symbiont was slid into its pouch on Jadzia's stomach. Jadzia Dax took a deep breath, and opened her eyes. Janeway, Bashir, and Tuvok crowded around the bed, staring down at her. Jadzia Dax's expression changed, and Janeway feared something had gone wrong.
Without even moving her head off the pillow, Jadzia Dax slapped Janeway across the face. "That was for kidnapping me! And taking me on that wild-targ-chase though the catacombs, and letting me get swallowed by a cave viper!"
Janeway held a hand to her burning cheek.
Dax's eyebrows rose humorously, and she sat up on the bed. "But this…" she hooked an arm around the back of Janeway's neck. "…is for uniting me with Kurzon's favorite girl." She kissed Janeway, not too passionately, but definitely not platonically.
Janeway popped one eyebrow, as they broke off the kiss. Julian Bashir watched, silently snarling with jealousy. Tuvok looked unimpressed by everything that had just happened.
Janeway cocked her head at Dax. "Does that kiss come with a ship?"
"Of course, Captain." Jadzia Dax slid off the bed. "Right this way…"
Voyager was docked in a barren, rocky part of the planet, a safe distance from the city. It was hidden in a massive crater, which had been converted into a docking port for starships. No one could enter Voyager without encrypted pass codes known only by Dax, until she handed them over to Janeway. Janeway then contacted the rest of her rebel cell, and soon the entire crew was at Turkana IV, getting to know their new ship, and celebrating with some long-needed shore leave. Word soon spread that Captain Kathryn Janeway was hiring hands for a rebel crew for the intrepid-class warship's maiden voyage. In less than two days, Janeway's crew compliment more than doubled, as new rebels, mercenaries, and space-farers who just needed a better job signed up to join.
Chakotay didn't mind a drink now and then, but he was far less interested in celebrating than getting to know the ship he'd now be living on. He followed Janeway and Tuvok, as they explored the vessel. The dark halls and red lights could either give it a relaxing atmosphere, or put one in a fighting mood. Smart design.
Carey was in engineering, getting familiar with his new territory. The Irishman stood silhouetted against the warm, red and orange swirls of the warp core, when the three of them came to take a look around. Carey proudly informed Janeway about the gel packs, and the ship's warp capabilities. Everything was in almost peak shape, except for a few power cells that were having problems he couldn't identify.
Next, they looked around the bridge. There were two black chairs, one for the captain and one for the first officer, with pointed angular designs. On one wall hung a metal plaque with the name of the ship—I.S.S. VOYAGER—over an engraving of a sword cutting through the planet Earth, the symbol of the Terran Empire.
The only section that wasn't entirely up to speed was—unfortunately—sickbay.
"Computer," Janeway said, "Activate Emergency Medical Hologram."
When nothing happened, Janeway asked the computer for an explanation. What they ultimately got didn't thrill the captain.
"The I.S.S. Voyager has not yet been installed with the Emergency Medical Hologram. EMH program must be downloaded into the ship's database."
Janeway left to "have a word" with Jadzia Dax about the condition of the ship, and returned some time later in a sour mood. Apparently, Voyager hadn't quite finished being built and prepared when Sisko had mysteriously vanished, leaving it about one percent uncompleted. When the captain cooled down, she reassured everyone that T'Pai would serve well as chief medical officer, until they could find a hologram to assist her (and hopefully train her into something resembling competence).
That night, the entire crew gathered in the mess hall, for a final celebration before taking off. Like the rest of the ship, it was dimly lit, but sported a bit more decoration. Bright red and blue banners hung around the walls, baring black symbols of the Terran Empire, or stylized pictures of great conquerors, like Captain Kirk and Spock. A Bolian chef named Chel—who'd just left his job at a pub here on Turkana IV, to join Janeway's crew—passed around booze and refreshments. They all took a moment from their joy to acknowledge the passing of John Cavit, Stadi, and Kenneth McCormick. Then the party resumed.
Tom and Harry were at a table, getting to know some of the newer crewmembers. "Getting to know" here meaning, "Getting drunk and flirting with." Harry's face turned as red as the warp core, when Lindsay Ballard took a seat right on his lap, kissing him on the cheek. Still flushed, Kim kissed her back on the mouth, his hands running through Lindsay's choppy red hair.
"Hey, save some of that little thief for me!" Tom laughed at Lindsay, as she and Harry broke off their kiss. Tom took Harry's face with one hand, and kissed his young lover.
Chakotay took his eyes away from Tom, refusing to acknowledge his jealousy. He turned his attention to the woman next to him—Sonya Gomez. Sonya was quite stunning, with large dark eyes and thick hair the same color, dangling with little beaded braids. She still wore her two-piece fighting clothes she'd worn back when serving as a merc under Wesley Crusher. Her name and appearance suggested that her ancestors came from South or Central America, like Chakotay's, so they had some common ground already.
"What's that you have there?" Chakotay asked, gesturing with his own frothing mug.
"Hot chocolate." Sonya said. "Not alcoholic, but just as addictive. Wanna try it?"
"Sure."
She giggled, and raised the cups towards his lips, provocatively.
"Excuse me—"
"Captain!" Sonya gasped, jumping where she sat.
Sonya and Chakotay both got some splashes of hot chocolate on their faces, but most of it wound up on the front of Janeway's cargo suit. Poor Sonya covered her mouth, either in humiliation, or fear. Behind her hands, Chakotay heard her groan, "Not again."
"My apologies, Gomez." Janeway held up a gloved hand. "Bad timing." She glanced down at her dirty top. "I was going to head for my new quarters anyway. I was wondering if you'd care to join me, Mr. Chakotay."
Chakotay looked up at Janeway, uncertain if she was joking or not. Her blue eye and black patch had no humor in them. He looked back at Sonya, feeling slightly guilty to end their flirtations so abruptly. Sonya just smiled nervously and said, "See you later."
Chakotay pushed himself up, and followed Janeway out of the mess hall. Chakotay honestly had no idea if he was about to be sent on a mission, privately reprimanded for something, seduced, or some combination of the above.
Once inside the captain's quarters, Janeway poured two glasses of a red drink.
"Red wine, grown at home on Earth." Janeway said, handing him a glass. "Hard stuff to come by, especially these days."
"Thank you," Chakotay took the glass.
Janeway sipped deeply, and closed her eye for a moment. She opened it, looking out the window at the dirty city, her lips pursed. "I have a lot of good fighters, Chakotay. Damned good fighters. But sane ones are a bit harder to come by." She turned back to him. "I'm impressed by how you kept your cool back there, in the catacombs. After seeing your childish lover quarrels with Mr. Paris, I'll admit I was worried you'd be a problem down there. But you didn't panic when those reptiles ambushed us. You were very attentive. You saw Wesley over in that car, on the way to Dax's cell. You saved a few of us just before we got phasered. The only time you didn't stay cool was when you punched Cavit, but after that little stunt he pulled with the holo-bomb, I can't imagine who wouldn't." She narrowed her eye at him. "You said you had no experience fighting with the Rebellion, before joining my crew?"
"That's right." Chakotay nodded. "Unless that uprising on Terek Nor counts. There were a lot of former Rebels involved. I worked with Will Riker."
"And what, if you don't mind my asking, were you doing before Terek Nor?"
"I was on Dorvan V. I was born and raised there."
"Dorvan V." Janeway's eye flicked up to the tattoo over his eye, for just a moment. "That planet was settled by American Indians back in the days of the Terran Empire, wasn't it?"
"Yes. We—our planet—it fell into the possession of the Klingons. We worked the land for them, tilling food and coffee and other resources, so they wouldn't have to take time out of being warriors to do it themselves." He smiled humorously over his glass.
"You were doing more than farming on that planet." Janeway said.
"Of course. I was still taught how to hunt and fight. The Klingons were lenient on us. They didn't mind us having our own culture…in fact Kor'Vak—my tribe's owner—he used to brag about how his slaves could beat the Cardassians' or the Bajorans.'"
"Quite a resume," Janeway was impressed. "You learned how to fight without modern weapons, survive in the wild, track animals…"
"The whole deal."
Janeway let a silence pass before asking in a flat voice, "What happened?"
Chakotay sloshed his wine around. "Kor'Vak had some political disagreement with a Cardassian. None of us saw this, this was over on Cardassia. Kor'Vak pulled a knife, the Cardassian pulled a phaser rifle, and, well, Kor'Vak didn't make it. The Klingons needed to keep the peace between the Cardassians, so they handed us over to them as an apology." His fingers tightened on the glass. "The first day, the Cardassians," his voice got stuck.
"The Cardassians…?" Janeway sounded like a school teacher, urging a slow student towards an obvious answer.
His jaw clenched. You know what Cardassian do, you bitch.
Chakotay didn't look at her, but his eyes crept up to the window, where he could see her reflection over the dark city. She was watching him carefully. She was looking for a reaction. She was deliberately goading him on, testing that "cool head" of his. If Tom Paris, or Seska, or maybe anyone was in this room right now other than the captain, he'd have tossed the glass into the wall and let them have it. Instead, he downed the rest of his drink with a quick swig, and delivered the story to Janeway like a report.
"The Cardassians killed the elders, and raped the women and girls. We rebelled. My father was killed in the fight. My grandfather snapped, when they shot the first few elders. My grandfather was a bit unstable, and he wound up killing a couple Cardassians with a farming ho before they managed to shoot him. The Cardassians eventually decided we were too much trouble, and decided to make a little money off of us, so they sold us off the planet. I never learned where my mother or sister went until after Seska got me. She let me track them down, talk to them over a monitor once. Sekaya's a consort to some Bajoran. Says he's terrible in bed, but the food's good. Our mother was with her, as a maid. Seky'd convinced her owner to buy her mother. I only spoke to them once, and I haven't heard from them since."
"Have you ever thought of trying to free them?" Janeway asked quietly.
"I thought of it. But free them into what? They've got it as good as it's going to get. Unless the Empire returns."
Janeway gave a long, understanding nod, like it made sense to her.
"What about you." Chakotay asked.
"Mr. Chakotay," Janeway said sternly, "You sound like you're under the mistaken impression that I called you here to socialize. You're here for an interview. I need a new first officer. Tuvok's next in line, but after that catastrophe with John, I don't want to take on another madman as my number two."
"But Tuvok's madness is controlled, isn't it?" Chakotay asked.
"His madness is separated and contained. But once it's turned on there's no telling what the hell that damned Vulcan will do. I want a first officer who can keep his head during fights, not between them. Tuvok's going to stay at tactical, using his logic for acting as my security chief and his other side when acting as my assassin. I don't want him in that seat next to me if I can help it. Now I want you to answer me honestly Chakotay, don't just tell me what you think I want to hear. Does your grandfathers' condition run in your family?"
Chakotay hesitated. "Not anymore. Before I was born my parents had the crazy gene turned off, with the permission of the Kor'Vak. Unless there's some force out there that can turn back the clock on DNA I should be fine."
"In that case," Janeway said. "You'll be going by Commander from now on. If you don't mind the responsibility."