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coun·ter·point - /ˈkoun(t)ərˌpoint/
def.: the art or technique of setting, writing, or playing a melody or melodies in conjunction with another, according to fixed rules.
ca·dence - /ˈkādns/
def.: a sequence of notes or chords comprising the close of a musical phrase.
=/\=
The lighting in his quarters began to brighten signalling a new day within the expanse of their starlit night.
Commander Chakotay groaned and turned within his sheets. He rubbed a hand sleepily across his bare chest.
His dreams had not been kind, and he vowed to take a few moments later that day for quiet reflection. He was in dire need of meditation, anything to help keep the torment of the images from his mind.
He rolled from his bed to place both feet on the floor and yawned.
From the stars outside, to the rumble of the ship's engines under his feet, he could tell they had just dropped out of warp.
"Janeway to Chakotay."
"Go ahead," he returned attempting to hide the sleepiness in his voice.
"Report to the bridge."
"Aye, Captain."
Chakotay released a held breath. A direct order at this hour? To the bridge?
It had been two days since she had last spoken to him. And this was it? An order? To a place he was already destined to be in a few moments. Clearly, his Captain had failed to read the day's duty roster he had carefully placed on her vacant desk the night before.
She had cancelled their morning meetings indefinitely, choosing to spend countless hours replicating a composition of mercurium isochromate instead. She was seeking a valuable offering for a scientist they were currently searching for.
She had been vacant from the bridge, locked away in the bowels of Voyager, hovered over a replicator with Lieutenant Commander Tuvok. If their concoction appeared to have impurities, they would begin again.
She was desperate for the right bargaining tool. She was hungry for perfection.
He was receiving reports that even the calm, collected Vulcan was losing his patience with the Captain. It was a rare sight Chakotay wished he could have been privy to.
Chakotay would see her, for a time, here and there around the ship, mostly locked in conversations with their new guest; seemingly lost in a dream.
Chakotay scoffed. He stood and reached for his uniform.
Kashyk, the Devore Inspector, member of the Devore Imperium, whose only mission, so it seemed, was tracking down every telepath in their sector, sometimes beyond.
The Devore considered these telepaths a danger; the ability to read minds a violation of their rights, as if these beings had something to hide.
Their current hunt – the kind Brenari people. Hunted and labelled criminals for something out of their control; a trait that should have been idolized instead of demonized. It was no wonder the Captain had taken pity on them in their plight against the Devore regime.
At least that's what he thought.
Until a few moments inside her ready room alone with Kashyk resulted in bringing the enemy on board.
And now she had granted safe passage to the self-claimed deserter.
The truth was, Chakotay did not trust him. He had known men like him. He had seen it before, time and time again; the strong exploiting the weak. Those who craved the mask of deceit, who longed to see others dangling on the end of a line like a worm.
Chakotay straightened his sleeves as he exited his quarters and ran his palms on either side of his hair flattening it.
What worried him most, was his Captain's desire for an ally, and her ability to see the good in everyone; to see their worth. Would it make them a target now? A desirable prey for the Devore Imperium, and the ships they kept trying to evade.
"Good morning, Commander," Captain Kathryn Janeway greeted merrily as he stepped onto the bridge.
She was excessively exuberant for first thing in the morning, he thought. They must have managed to find the scientist they were searching for.
"Good morning, Captain," he returned, rubbing the sleep from the corner of his eye as he moved into the centre of the bridge.
As he turned, he saw him; smug faced with his legs crossed, sitting in his chair. He approached Kashyk and stopped in front of him.
"Oh, right," Kashyk said, putting on airs. "This must be yours." He stood quickly from Chakotay's chair and moved to be closer to the Captain.
"We have a small ship within range, Captain," reported the freshly demoted, Ensign Tom Paris from the helm.
"Distance?" Janeway asked.
"Seven hundred thousand kilometres," Paris returned. "We should be seeing it soon."
"On screen."
Slowly, stars passed by, moving aside, making way for a small blinking light in the distance. The ship was speedy, but no match for Voyager even at impulse.
"Let's drop to one quarter impulse, Mr. Paris," Janeway ordered. "We want to look threatening, but not too threatening".
"Yes, ma'am." Paris' hands moved quickly in front of him. "Five hundred thousand," he reported.
Slowly, the image started to take form. It was a small craft, and one that had obviously caught wind of the significantly larger vessel on its tail.
"Three Hundred Fifty."
Kashyk moved forward to get a closer look. "That must be him."
"Ensign," Janeway said looking over her shoulder toward Operations.
Ensign Harry Kim looked down at his screen and glanced up quickly. "The ship has the schematics of what we were provided and is fuelled with mercurium isochromate."
Janeway smiled and turned back to the view screen. She moved forward. "Hail him," she ordered.
A familiar beeping sounded behind Chakotay at Operations, and he turned in his chair.
"No response."
Chakotay stood and moved to stand with Janeway. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Kashyk moving toward her as well, and for a single, fleeting moment, he read disapproval in the Devore's eyes.
"Try again," Janeway commanded, her eyes on Kim.
"He's trying to evade us," Paris said over his shoulder, hands feverishly moving across his console as he tried to keep up with the small craft on their viewscreen.
"Hail him again."
Chakotay pressed forward. "Mister Torat doesn't seem too trusting. Maybe he's been through one inspection too many."
"No response. He's deactivated his communication system," reported Tuvok.
"I think I can tap into his computer, override the lockout," Kim suggested.
Janeway looked back to the viewscreen. "Do it."
The viewscreen blipped and the backside of Torat came into view. He seemed a bipedal being and as he turned with disgust, Chakotay saw his deep-set eyes, his down-turned mouth, and ears set a long way back. He resembled someone who had possible Saurian ancestors.
"Go away!" Torat shouted behind him, his hands moving across his controls, still attempting to evade Voyager.
"This is Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation Starship Voyager. We have no hostile intent." She spoke clearly, reassurance in the inflection of her voice.
"Then why are you pursuing me?" he shrieked.
"We'd just like to ask you-"
"Federations. Imperiums," Torat interrupted. "Why do you people feel such a need to align yourselves with monolithic organisations?"
"I'd be glad to discuss that and any other philosophical issue you care to raise if you would just slow down and talk," Janeway offered calmly.
Chakotay knew Torat only had a few moments before the Captain would lose her patience.
"Sorry, can't do that. I'm late for a very important conference."
Kashyk leaned into Janeway, his lips close to her ear. "This is a waste of time. Disable his ship."
The Captain leaned back. "That's what we call overkill, Inspector. "Ensign," Janeway directed towards Kim. "Can we transport at this range?"
"Absolutely," Kim replied, impressed with himself. "Energising."
Quickly, the small man materialized in front of them. His hands pushed out at his sides. Chakotay smiled. Transport was always odd your first time.
"Welcome aboard, " Janeway greeted. "Your reputation precedes you."
Torat's nostrils puffed in and out. "What is the meaning of this?!" he exclaimed.
He took an aggressive step toward Janeway, causing Chakotay to place himself between the Captain and their new guest.
Torat slowly looked up at Chakotay. His eyes moved quickly back and forth. "What gives you the right to just take people forcefully from their own ships!" he yelled.
"Mr. Torat," Janeway replied calmly. She took a few steps toward Chakotay, placing a hand on his back to let him know where she was, immediately calming him. "I assure you, we mean you no harm. All we want to do is talk."
"Talk?! Talk?!" Torat was clearly agitated. His nostrils puffed in and out as he shrieked. He pressed himself against Chakotay causing him to straighten his back. "Do you always get into the habit of kidnapping people just to talk?!" He took a step back and raised his arms to the side looking around nervously at those present on the bridge. "This is an extreme inconvenience! As I have said, I have a very important conference to attend! Or perhaps you do not know the importance of punctuality, of getting somewhere on time?"
"You have no idea." Janeway smiled as she tilted her head. "Perhaps we can make this inconvenience worth your while?" She motioned toward her ready room. "Please. Right this way."
Chakotay moved to follow the group, remaining just a few steps behind. When they reached the door to her ready room, Janeway turned abruptly putting up a hand to stop Chakotay.
"It's quite all right, Commander," Janeway said. "Kashyk and I can take it from here. You have the bridge."
Chakotay placed his hands behind his back. He nodded. "Aye, Captain."
He watched as Janeway slowly lowered her chin, and turned from him.
Even he heard the sadness in his reply.
Chakotay turned and ascended the few steps to the bridge. He raised his head to see the eyes of Paris, Tuvok, and Kim watching him carefully. He turned toward the Vulcan who had tilted his chin, one eyebrow raised in a quizzical manner. Clearly his dismissal had not been lost on any of them.
Chakotay cleared his throat. "Has the tractor beam been engaged to tow Torat's ship, Mr. Tuvok?"
"Affirmative, Commander," Tuvok replied.
"Excellent. Continue on course, Mr. Paris." Chakotay moved across to his seat, looking down for a moment at his Captain's chair as he passed. "The least we can do is assist the man in getting to his conference on time."
=/\=
Chakotay edged around a corner on Deck 5 and came face-to-face with Lieutenant Ayala who was instructing a pair from his security personnel.
It wasn't until he neared them that he recognised the duo as the pair Ayala had assigned to take the last shift guarding their Devore guest.
Chakotay looked up from the PADD in his hand as he approached them.
He smiled at Lieutenant Natalie Jamieson. She was a former member of his crew aboard the Val Jean, a damn good shot, and it was no wonder Ayala had placed her at the top of his security team from the moment they stepped on board Voyager.
She had once been Chakotay's choice for Chief Tactical Officer before it had been suggested by his commanding officer that a certain Vulcan officer, a deserter from Starfleet, be chosen instead. Jamieson had a knack for sniffing out trouble before it hit them, and Chakotay strongly believed that if he had listened to his gut, and put her at Tactical, Tuvok never would have stepped onto the Val Jean that fateful day.
They never would have been flung into the Delta Quadrant.
They never would have been hotly pursued by a Starfleet crew.
Gone would have been their destiny to become members of Janeway's crew of misfits.
The corners of Chakotay's mouth fell and he inhaled slowly.
To Jamieson's right was straightlaced Crewman Sadhil Dewal. He had been a difficult man to get to know over the past few years. He was jittery, and a constant ball of nerves around authority, and as hard as Chakotay tried, his attempts to get Dewal to relax around him had failed.
On paper, Jamieson and Dewal seemed a pair destined for failure, but if anyone was capable of getting these two to function as a single unit, Ayala was the best man for the job. In all his years, Chakotay had never seen a more dedicated soldier, officer, and instructor.
He and Ayala had shared many stories. They had spent many hours together on the holodeck. With Ayala, his secrets were safe, and he knew Ayala placed the same trust in him; a true vindication of his loyal nature. He was blessed to call him friend.
"Commander?" Ayala greeted him formally. "Dewal and Jamieson have something to report."
Chakotay placed his hands behind his back and looked at the pair.
"Well go on," Jamieson nudged Dewal. "Tell him. He won't bite."
Dewal stepped forward and Chakotay watched the young man clench and unclench his fists. "Well you see, Sir... it's just…What I mean to say is… "
"Spit it out, Crewman," Ayala coaxed quietly.
"I... just..." Dewal trailed.
Jamieson sighed loudly. "The Captain is with Kashyk, Chakotay."
"And…"
"She has been. For hours. In his quarters, Commander... Sir." Dewal swallowed loudly. "We just felt it should be reported, Sir. "
Jamieson rolled her eyes at her partner.
"I fail to see the importance," Chakotay added. He hoped his tone was hiding his true feelings.
"We just thought you should know, Chakotay," Jamieson retorted. Her tone was friendly, but behind it was the implication he was to seek out his own speculation.
"Very well." Chakotay relaxed his shoulders, and looked down at the PADD in his hand, nonchalantly entering keystrokes. "Thank you for your report." Chakotay looked up and nodded. "You're dismissed."
Chakotay moved aside. He watched as Jamieson smacked Dewal lightly on his arm, a friendly disappointment in her eyes, as they moved down the corridor, locked in a quiet argument. Dewal's hands flew out in his defence.
When his security team were out of sight, Ayala turned back to Chakotay. "Those two – constantly keeping me on my toes."
"They seem like a good pair, Ayala," Chakotay said honestly. "You were right to team them together."
"They have their moments. While frustrating at times, they seem to work." Ayala turned, smiling, but the lines on his face fell suddenly as he looked to his friend. "Listen, Chakotay. About the Captain... Is everything all right?" he asked.
In his quarters? What was she thinking? With a guard posted outside his door? She knew the crew was bound to talk.
That it would eventually get back to him
What could they be going over for hours? She had offered no report after their meeting with Torat; no instruction thrown his way. Just left him to manage the bridge while she paraded off with Kashyk.
He could still see the smug look Kashyk offered him as he left the bridge with Janeway by his side.
"Chakotay?"
Chakotay shook his head from his dream. "I'm sorry?"
"Is everything all right? Should we be worried about the Devore?"
"No. It's fine." Chakotay offered a reassuring smile. "The Captain has everything under control."
Ayala nodded, and reached out to place a hand to his friend's shoulder. "You're worried about her, aren't you?"
Chakotay swallowed and his eyes fell to the floor. After all this time, he could still read him like a book.
Ayala patted his shoulder. "Say no more," he whispered as he began to move from him.
Always the understanding Ayala. He knew his position kept Chakotay from being honest with him, and he was not offended. He knew Chakotay could not give an honest answer, as regulations and protocol kept them buried.
Without Ayala, he would have lost the faithfulness demonstrated by his Maquis. Their necessary integration into one Starfleet crew would have been a complete failure. Tyranny would have erupted, and a battle for the overthrowing of power would have come to pass if Ayala had not had the ear of his people; if he had not upheld their unified front.
"Ayala," Chakotay called after him as he moved down the hall. "We're still on for sparing at 1900?"
"Wouldn't miss it," he replied, turning, grinning. He pressed a hand to his right cheek and rubbed it gently. "And this time, I'll be ready for your left."