Please read!!
Author's Note: This is a first-person-present-tense-Janeway story. If you don't like Janeway, you won't like this story. This is originally a NC-17 story… and it's still pretty hot. Nothing graphical, though, but consider yourselves warned. :)
Thank you to Cress for helping me remake this story!
Pairings: Mainly J/C, a little J/Harry. Mention of P/T, D/7, and C/7. Don't let that frighten you though - it's not as bad as it sounds.
Rating: PG-13
Feedback: Send any and all comments about this story to nameless_ensign@hotmail.com.
Disclaimer: Paramount owns everything in this story. No the story in itself, though. Not until they pay me for it, anyway. ;) And that will never happen.
To the journey (post Endgame)
PG-13 version
by Nameless Ensign (nameless_ensign@hotmail.com)
Part Eight - A mission
Vulcan is all the tranquility I hoped for. It is, as always, extremely logical. Right now that's exactly what I need. I've seen Tuvok reclaim his role as a family father, seen the pride, however illogical, he harbors for his now grown children and young grandchildren. I've seen him settle into his newfound role as Seven's guide in human emotions. An unlikely scenario, it seems, but not so strange as it seems. Perhaps Tuvok's detachment is helping her understand, and to some degree control, her recently unleashed emotions. I've spent days meditating with Tuvok, something I've never done. I regret that, but I guess I haven't needed it before. It has helped me reach clarity about some things. About a lot of things, actually.
Seven seems at peace, happy, and more human than I've ever seen her before. That makes me proud, even though it's been years since she broke free of the bond we shared from the moment I severed her from the Borg collective. It also eases the guilt I still have for those actions. It seems her romantic interest in Chakotay was short-lived, and his for her as well. I guess the Alpha Quadrant came into the picture too quickly for their relationship to survive. We've spent hours talking, and of course we've been talking about Chakotay too, but she has not mentioned why they broke up. I don't feel as uncomfortable talking about their relationship as I did only a month ago. That surprises me slightly, considering the strength of my initial awkwardness and anger at them both. Maybe it's Vulcan, maybe it's the time I spent with Harry, I don't know why. Seven doesn't seem to take the break up too hard, though. I hope the same goes for Chakotay.
I have also had the utter pleasure of getting to know T'Pel, Tuvok's wife. She is a lovely woman. Of course, when I told her that, she only nodded. She is Vulcan after all. And she's not as used to humans, or at least not as used to this particular human, as Tuvok is. Still, she is lovely company, and I've spent enough time around Tuvok to notice her subtle, very subtle, displays of emotion. Like this morning, when their oldest son visited us, with his own son, Tuvok's and T'Pel's grandson. I could see the small ways in which their facial expressions, glances, and voices changed when the child was around.
I can't really say that their emotional control has rubbed off on me, though. I'm as unpredictable as ever. But the tranquility has allowed me to bring out and examine my emotions. Everything seems clearer now.
"Kathryn."
Tuvok's voice calling me is pulling me back to reality, and I realize I've been sitting with my diary open but not writing, for almost half an hour. I smile up at him, standing in the doorway. When I asked Tuvok to call me Kathryn, he stated that it was illogical, which made me tell him that what was really illogical was calling me 'Captain' when we weren't on duty. So he calls me Kathryn now, albeit very uncomfortably. Poor Tuvok. "Yes?"
"We have received a transmission from Starfleet. Seven is talking to Admiral Paris now. I believe he wishes to speak with you as well."
"Starfleet? What do they want?"
Tuvok reveals not emotion, no clue to whether it's good or bad news. "I think the Admiral would prefer to tell you himself."
"Of course, Tuvok," I say, get up, and leave the room with him. "You're right, as always."
He simply nods at the acknowledgement.
When we reach the main room, where the terminal is, Seven is just getting up from the chair. I try to make eye contact with her, but she doesn't look at me. I look at her curiously as she leaves the room, then sit down in front the screen displaying Admiral Paris' face.
"Admiral," I say, as this is obviously not a social call. I see Tuvok walk out of the room as well, leaving me to talk to the Admiral privately.
"Captain," he says, equally formal. "How is Vulcan?"
"Logical," I deadpan.
A small smile grace the Admiral's face at my words. "Of course," he says. "Well, to the point. We have a mission for you."
"A mission? For who?"
"For Voyager."
"But she's not built..." I start, thinking he's talking about the Voyager being built. Then I realize my mistake "Oh! you mean our Voyager, the old one."
"Yes," he says, "with her old crew. We're trying to round up everyone. Can I count on her Captain agreeing?"
"That depends on the mission, Admiral."
"I see you've inherited your father's skeptical side," Admiral Paris says and smiles.
I simply nod. My father did raise me to be a skeptical.
"We need someone to deliver supplies from Earth to a science station in on of Bajor's neighboring systems. If you agree, you will leave in one month. The duration of the mission will be six months, the science station also need the help of a few able scientists and engineers for a while."
The Admiral studies me intently as I think about what to answer, trying to gauge my reaction. If it weren't for his last words about them needing scientific help, I might have objected, saying that Voyager wasn't a supply shuttle. But I probably would have agreed anyway. I'm dying to get back into space.
"Yes," I say, lifting my chin, "I'm in. How many of the rest of the crew have agreed to this?"
"We've only talked to the senior staff yet," he says, and then looks down before continuing, raising my suspicion. "All but one of them have agreed."
"Who hasn't agreed?" I ask, a little too quickly. I have a bad feeling about this.
"Commander Chakotay," he says, confirming my suspicions.
"Where can I find him?"
"I'm sorry, Captain, but he has requested that his whereabouts remain a secret."
"Owen..." I say, my voice lowered, "I'm not just anyone. Please... tell me."
He sighs slightly, turns his head from the screen. I have a feeling he's giving up a bit too easily, but I'm not going to argue with him about that. "I suspected you'd react like this. He is on Dorvan. I'm forwarding the details."
"Thank you," I say as the information appears on the screen. "I'll talk to you later, Admiral. Give my best to Tom and B'Elanna."
He smiles and nods, then terminates the link.
I call Dorvan immediately. I'm furious at him for not agreeing. Which is good, because it momentarily overshadows all the other emotions he stirs in me. My thoughts are ended abruptly when someone answers my call.
"Yes? Can I help you?" The pleasant face of a beautiful woman fills the screen.
A thought that she might be the reason why Chakotay doesn't want to leave flashes through my mind, thinking that he might already have found someone else to share his life with. Then I notice the similarities. This must be Chakotay's sister.
"Hello," I say, as pleasantly as I can muster, "I am Captain Kathryn Janeway. I'm looking for Chakotay."
She glances to her side quickly, then turns back to me. "I'm sorry," she says apologetically, "Chakotay does not wish to speak with anyone from Starfleet."
Anger boils up in me again. Just who does he think he is?! I'm willing myself to calm down, and take a deep breath before I speak again. "I'm not from Starfleet," I say, then, I take a chance. "I'm a friend."
"Oh," she says, uncertain to how to reply. Then she glances to her side again, probably at Chakotay.
"Please," I say, quietly.
Then he comes into view. His big hand on her shoulder is the first of him I see, and I can't help but stare, mesmerized.
"It's ok," he says to the woman I hope is his sister. She moves away and he takes the seat in front of the terminal, and I find myself speechless. I had forgotten how handsome he is in civilian clothing, and I had forgotten how strong the pull of my attraction towards him was. Now it's all coming back to me, a bit too clearly.
"Kathryn?" he says, not knowing how to interpret my staring. I mentally shake myself. Just say what you called him to say.
"Chakotay," I say, "I just received a call from Admiral Paris about a mission. I understand you turned him down?"
"That's correct," he says calmly.
"Why?"
"I don't need to explain myself to you."
Again, fury at him takes the lead. "No," I say, willing myself to stay calm, "you don't. But as your friend, I'd like to know."
"Don't friends usually stay in contact? I haven't heard anything from you since we came back to Earth?"
"You haven't called either."
"I didn't feel comfortable calling you in Harry's room," he says, eyes blazing.
I cringe. How did he found out? Does everyone know? The momentary embarrassment is immediately replaced by anger, though. "Well I didn't feel comfortable calling you in Seven's room," I retort.
"In any case, I'm not sure I can serve under you knowing you're sleeping with Harry Kim."
This disagreement is turning into a row, but I don't care. He has just crossed the line. "I served with you while you were sleeping with Seven. What's the difference?"
"Seven and I broke up."
"Well Harry and I broke up."
There is a moment's silence and I suddenly realize just how childish we're acting. I can't help but chuckle.
"What?!" he says, still angry.
"Listen to us, Chakotay," I say softly, "we're behaving like children."
He doesn't say anything, but his expression is growing softer. I take on a different approach. "Please," I say, pleading with him. "Please come home. Come back to Voyager with me."
My words obviously stuck a chord, because his expression changes from anger and bewilderment into something resembling hope and longing. But he doesn't say anything so I reach out and put my hand on the screen. "I need you, Chakotay. I need my friend and I need my First Officer."
It's an admission I hadn't planned on making, but it's nevertheless true. And it's obviously working, because suddenly he is looking into my eyes through the screen, and is reaching out to touch the part of the screen where I'm holding my hand, as if we could touch through the computer link. It's so much like another time when we held hands, after a very different conversation, on a very different planet. In a very different life. Images of New Earth come into my mind, unbidden. Then he speaks.
"Ok," he says, softly, "I'll come."
When I've ended the call I notice that my hands are shaking, and I feel strangely nervous. It's not an emotion I'm used to, being the alleged fearless Starfleet Captain. I bury my face in my hands, both to stop my hands from shaking, and to calm myself. I see a shadow from the corner of my eye, and lift my face to see T'Pel sitting next to me.
"Is Commander Chakotay the source of your distress?" she asks me.
I smile a little. Such a Vulcan question. "He is also the source of my well-being," I say.
T'Pel nods. "Perhaps you should tell him that."
I draw in a shaky breath. "Yes," I say quietly, "I'm going to. It's just... hard."
"It is only as hard as you make it."
I smile at her again. She is of course completely right. I just have to learn not to make things so hard for myself. "You're a wise woman, T'Pel. I'm honored to call you my friend," I say, and wish I could take her hand. But she, being Vulcan, would not recognize that as the friendly gesture it is.
To my surprise, she puts her hand on mine instead. "So am I, Kathryn."
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