Disclaimer: See Chapter one - but I do not own these characters, CBS/Paramount do.
What Next?
NB: Author note - I have lost count of the number of times I have tried to get this chapter going/finished, or the number of times I have changed the title so I know what the focus of the chapter should be; thus if this chapter appears to be a bit disjointed I hope you'll understand why!
=/\=
Tom Paris stood staring out of the window of his childhood room, in his parents' home contemplating all the events that had taken place over the last few months since Voyager's return and especially since Chakotay's complete disappearing act. It was unnerving not really knowing where the big guy was, only that he was safe for now.
"Who knows what'll happen when he reappears," he whispered sadly, knowing there were still people out there wanting to do harm to him for whatever reason. He felt as if the juggernaut that Janeway's open comm.-link had started was still rumbling along with no safe harbour in sight yet, more like the calm before the storm!
"Bother, I was hoping to get the family gathering organised," he swore softly to himself.
"Maybe we still can," spoke a voice he knew well, turning to frown puzzled at her.
"What do you mean?" waiting as she settled Miral into her cot for a nap.
"Well, even if Chakotay can't come, everyone else can!" her expression hopeful.
"Sure," giving her a beaming smile and taking her into his arms. "We'll get started straight away, invites and suchlike," he enthused.
=/\=
He stood before the mirror gazing at his true reflection, the mark of the Sky Spirits arching over his left brow once more, along with his usual strong facial features. Through that mirror his friend stood watching him, having been the architect of where he'd been hiding from his nameless enemies, some of whom could even be in the upper echelons of Starfleet itself.
"You alright my Friend?" voice concerned. He sighed deeply, then said.
"Just trying to take this all in," indicating his reflection, feeling the warp engines of the Starfleet vessel he rode on pulsing beneath his feet. "I wish, that Sheba could have come," his dejected tone revealing that he was missing his companion of the last few months.
"And really given the game away!?" his friend admonished him. "Sheba may have been a bit of the runt of the litter, but she is very definitely not a product of Earth." He nodded his understanding, still sad. "She'll be just fine with the boys. They adore her and she'll protect them just as she did for you - My Friend."
"I know," sighing again, then turned to look at the person in the Starfleet uniform of medical sciences teal. "Your Captain?"
"My Captain is well aware of who you are, Chakotay. And has no wish to see you as a scapegoat for others wrongdoing," the medic's tone of voice hard.
"You really don't care for Starfleet at present, do you?" his expression softly amused.
"Not the only one!" added another voice. The officer who'd spoken strode into the area unannounced and stood beside his science officer, the uniform marking his rank.
"Captain?" Chakotay questioned puzzled.
"The war has changed a lot of people in Starfleet and not for the better, I might add. From being a forward and outward looking organisation of exploration and knowledge seeking to introverted with tightened security measures, inside and outside the organisation," the Captain breathed deep to contain his growing anger. "Don't mind me, Commander," putting up a hand to stall Chakotay's response to that ranking. "You are more Starfleet than Maquis and they know it, Commander," stressing the Amerindian's provisional ranking. His friend nodded in agreement. "My current orders regarding your welfare and transport are directly from Admiral Paris; thus you'll be under his jurisdiction and protection, even when we reach our next port of call. The ETA is two hours. I suggest that you read up on all the data we have at present concerning the happenings on Earth," pausing a moment. "I'd like to know your thoughts on this… mess!"
"Acknowledged, Captain. Am I allowed any outside contact before then?" obviously hoping to reach out to his family on Earth.
"Afraid not, My Friend."
"Sorry," the Captain said apologetically.
"Soon," the Medic added softly. Chakotay nodded his understanding and settled in the ship's comfortable guest quarters; where he currently resided, knowing that he'd be transferred again before he reached Earth and the Paris' home.
=/\=
In those higher echelons of power within Starfleet, people went about their normal business or at least appeared to, from the perspective of the everyday Starfleet personnel; Cadet's, Ensigns, Lieutenants - junior and full grade, plus Captains. It was those of Admiralty who moved as if they're former hidden agendas had been thrown off course, by one who had been installed into their ranks.
Janeway and Owen Paris, sat in the latter's office feeling the undeniable buzz of thwarted plans being revised, bruised egos being dusted down and patched up; giving the place around them an air of nervous and therefore dangerous activity. Because of this neither felt like giving voice to their troubled thoughts or to the orders Paris had given to one Captain.
At one point Owen had gruffly cleared his throat, but his pensive expression, meant he said nothing to the other occupants. Janeway watched out of the main window, the comings and goings of the security personnel, along with the usual Admiralty staff, her coffee mug long since emptied, still cradled between her hands. Elliot watched them both, feeling the tension rise. Paris' current Aide sat with them, rather than in the outer office as the tension there was making the man uncomfortable with the strange looks and questioning comments he'd been getting from others in the main corridor that ran past this suite of offices.
"This is ridiculous," Janeway finally said, her body tense and ready for action, but what action could she take? she wondered.
"Until someone really shows their hand, we're groping in the dark," Paris said as if finishing her unspoken thoughts.
"Agreed," spoke the calm voice of Alynna Nechayev, having just entered their silent inner sanctum. The Fleet Admiral though wasn't alone; two other figures, familiar figures followed her in. Relaxed smiles of delighted surprise greeted these newcomers and especially the third as he materialised and said:
"Please state the nature of the medical emergency."
