The Sequel to "Yesterday's Terrors"
Chapter 3For Kathryn Janeway the trouble with pre-launch preparations was that there was never really anything left to prepare. So she had spent the entire afternoon pacing her apartment, which overlooked the San Francisco bay. Her bags had already been packed hours before the briefing at HQ that morning. Starfleet officers, especially captains, were accustomed to being called to duty at a moment's notice. With way too much time on her hands, she had attempted to distract herself with a little music. But even Tchaikovsky had failed to raise her spirits. She had picked up a padd with a gothic novel that she had not read yet, only to catch herself staring at the text without really taking in any of it. Her mind kept wandering back to the morning's briefing. Eventually she had tossed the padd aside and picked up another one. It had soon followed the first one. Exasperated she had finally given up on reading and resorted to pacing again, staring out of the window but not really seeing anything. Instead her eyes were focusing inwards on the turmoil within her. The beautiful view of the bay, which had been a decisive factor in choosing her apartment, held no beauty for her today. She might as well have been looking out onto a brick wall. Unsuccessfully she had tried to focus her thoughts on the upcoming mission, but they kept straying to Nechayev and Chakotay, two people she longed to wipe from her memory. At least she would have been able to sleep then.
Usually when she felt like this she would take her dog for a long walk across the bay, but that had not been an option either. She had already deposited Molly at her mother's house in Indiana. However, there had been plenty of time for brooding...
Starfleet Command had thrown one insult after another at her, and she was keenly aware of it. She knew that Marlow was no more than an extravagant babysitter, a watchdog, assigned to this mission to keep an eye on her, reporting everything -- every word she said, every order she gave, every move she made -- straight to Starfleet Command. They did not trust her anymore. What had Nechayev called her again? A liability! She could not remember a time when she had felt so completely and utterly patronized, degraded and humiliated. It was one thing for Nechayev to tell her in confidence that Starfleet command was having trouble trusting her. But to dress her down like that in front of one of her officers -- a Vulcan at that -- a perfect stranger and a renegade who was wanted by the Cardassian and the Federation authorities for his terrorist actions in the DMZ! It was too much. How did Nechayev expect her to gain her crew's respect now? Oh, she was well aware that no love had ever been lost between herself and Admiral Nechayev, but this was taking their mutual dislike one step too far.
In frustration Janeway bit her lip and balled her hands into tight fists. She wanted to throw something, hit something, anything to get the pent up aggression out of her system, but she could not. She had to rise above such things. She could not just throw a tantrum. She simply expected more from herself. It was important for her to get in control of her feelings; otherwise she was never going to cope on Voyager. After all, how could she expect to control others if she could not even control herself?
As if she did not already have enough on her plate, there was of course the matter with Chakotay. He had completely ignored her this morning, and it ruffled her. Somehow she had expected something else... a stronger reaction on his part. She had been prepared for a shouting match, or at least a small argument. She had been ready for that, but this total silence was something she found very hard to deal with. She wanted to clear the air between them, but how did you do that with someone who treats you like hot air? How do you have an argument with a statue?
When their eyes had met for the briefest of moments, she had felt the strangest sensations. Her heart had been racing, and she had felt the blood rise to her head. There had been a fleeting flash of emotion in his eyes. But what kind of emotion? Hostility? Certainly. Hurt, maybe. Love -- definitely not. Or had that flicker of a fire been more than just hostility?
No. Wishful thinking, Kathryn! she thought dejectedly.
Even if there had been the slightest smolder of love, what would she do with it? Had she not avoided him for the past three months, because there could be no such relationship between them? Had she not gone to extreme lengths to forget about how good it felt to lose herself in his strong arms, to feel his lips on hers?
No, don't go there, Kathryn!
She had to focus on something else, anything but those memories.
Marlow! Expert on all things Cardassian... that thought alone
made her shudder. Would she be able to work with him? Nechayev had
basically given command of the ship over to him. Sure, she was still the
Captain, but he was the one with the real power behind the captain's chair.
It was ridiculous. Marlow was Starfleet Intelligence material, not
a starship captain trained in the art of space combat. His diploma was in
sociology, not strategy. It was absurd to have him in charge of Voyager
in a possible battle situation.
To round matters up, Kathryn Janeway, outstanding cadet, protégé of the revered and much feared Admiral Paris, quick mover through the ranks of Starfleet and firm believer in the Prime Directive had just become one of the galaxy's most hunted criminals, together with her crew. The latter was nagging at her conscience. She had dragged her crew into this! It was her job to protect them, not incriminate them.
And then, of course, there was the fact that she was just about to launch herself into her favorite part of the galaxy: Cardassian space! She would rather have engaged the Borg -- single-handedly! At least they were automatons, unaware of the horror they inflicted on their victims. The Cardassians actually enjoyed torturing theirs.
Finally the chronometer took mercy on Kathryn Janeway. It was 19:30 hours -- time to go. The weather had decided to match her mood. It had already turned dark and a persistent drizzle saturated the chilly October evening air.
Kathryn left her San Francisco apartment and walked along the bay through the Academy grounds to Headquarters, a stroll that took her no longer than ten minutes. When she arrived in the Academy's transporter room most of the crew were already assembled, all wearing Starfleet uniforms, including the Maquis. It would have been too auspicious to have civilians roam the hallowed halls of Starfleet Headquarters. They were all going to change into Maquis clothing once they were aboard Voyager.
Her entrance had gone unnoticed. The crew was too busy renewing acquaintances to notice her. Janeway took the opportunity to cast her gaze across the crowd, isolating a few familiar faces. Tom Paris was there, looking his usual cocky self and animatedly chatting with the Maquis engineer B'Elanna Torres. Paris was going to pilot the ship. Lieutenant Stadi, Voyager's official helm officer, was on official leave due to a recent death in her family. She had taken a trip to Betazed in order to attend the funeral of her father. Janeway had a special affinity for Stadi and was going to miss her resident Betazoid on this journey.
Ensign Harry Kim stood alone at the far end of the room, obviously uncertain as to what to do with himself, shifting his weight from one leg onto the other and fidgeting with his baggage.
Finally she located Tuvok, her old friend and probably the only one she could really trust on this mission. He stood solemnly next to a large window, gazing out with no readable emotions on his face. Would he still be willing to accept her captaincy after what Nechayev had said this morning? As a Vulcan he had very little trust in humans. He saw their conflicting emotions as a liability. What impression had Nechayev's assessment of her psychological state made on him? Well, she was not going to get any answers by staring at his stoic face. She would have to ask him directly if she wanted to know what he thought of her. But that could wait until later, because Janeway was not entirely sure she was ready to hear the answer to this particular question.
Kathryn continued to observe the group assembled in the transporter room. She spotted some familiar faces among the Maquis, too. There was Kurt Bendera, Chakotay's loyal friend, a man without whose guidance some of her people might never have made it back to Earth alive, including herself. And that quiet, yet nosy Bajoran man, Lojal, was standing in the corner by the industrial sized transporter platform. She remembered him from subterranean Maquis hideout. He was the one who had brought the spare blankets and cushions to Chakotay's room, where she was supposed to spend the night on the couch...
Speak of the devil, Chakotay entered the room. She could not help but notice that he looked quite fetching in his command uniform. She had never seen him in Starfleet regulation clothing before, apart from the picture in his personnel file. Immediately the members of his cell gathered around him, smiling and welcoming him warmly into their midst.
She had to admit, she was a little jealous of the open and affectionate relationship Chakotay had with the members of his cell. She could never allow such familiarity to establish between herself and her crew. Kathryn caught herself staring at the Maquis leader in a way that went far beyond the professional and quickly averted her eyes, pretending to be busy reading one of the padds she had collected from her office. Damn... for a moment she had let her guard down. She only hoped no one had noticed, although to her the signs were terribly obvious. She was breathing rapidly, and her blood was pounding in her ears...
"Good evening, Captain. It's good to see you again. I had wanted to discuss a few matters after this morning's briefing, but you had already gone before I could ask you out for lunch."
It was Ross Marlow, her expert on all things Cardassian. She only hoped he had not noticed her lapse of self-control. Undoubtedly Nechayev had informed him in great detail of her 'relationship' with Chakotay during Voyager's last mission.
Rather frostily she responded,
"I had a lot to prepare."
Marlow was actually giving her a warm smile. It made her skin crawl. She chided herself. She should not allow herself to be so prejudiced. After all, she did not even know the man. So what if Nechayev liked him, that did not necessarily make him into an ogre... or did it?
"Maybe we can have some coffee once we're safely on our way?" he suggested, still that same smile on his face. His green eyes were shining brightly. They suited him with his almost black hair. That smile of his almost softened her resolve to hate this man. Under different circumstances she might have found him handsome.
Kathryn pulled herself together. She should really make an effort to get along with Marlow. She already had one tense relationship with Chakotay aboard Voyager. There was no need for another. After all, she would have to work with Ross Marlow. And besides, she had always found it difficult to say no to coffee.
Kathryn forced a smile.
"All right, Mr. Marlow. If everything goes well, I'll meet you in the mess hall at 22:00 hours."
There, that should keep him happy, she though, but much to her surprise Marlow protested.
"22:00 is great, Captain, but I had rather hoped for more private surroundings. I intend to discuss certain classified matters with you concerning this mission..."
Janeway sighed and her shoulders slumped infinitesimally.
"Fine. 22:00 hours, my quarters. Please excuse me now, Mr. Marlow. I have just spotted my tactical officer. I really must speak with him before we leave orbit."
She was just about to make her escape when Nechayev entered the room.
Nechayev addressed the assembled group and gave her 'farewell speech', wishing Janeway and her crew good luck and, having received a small ovation from the crew, watched them beam onto the vessel in groups of twenty. This was one of those moments when being in command came in handy, since it meant that Janeway could beam aboard with the first group. The sooner she could get away from Nechayev, the better!
Kathryn Janeway proceeded straight to her quarters in order to deposit her bag and to change into the Maquis clothes, whose design Nechayev had left "in Chakotay's capable hands". She only hoped he had not incorporated an act of revenge into the her attire...
Voyager's captain was relieved to find a wardrobe full of simple leggings and tunics in various neutral colors. Having changed into one of the outfits she left for the bridge.
Most of the bridge crew, similarly attired to her, was already at their stations. Tom Paris was at the helm, Harry Kim behind the operations console and Tuvok at tactical. Ensign Wildman sat at the science station. B'Elanna Torres, Lieutenant Carey and the rest of Voyager's new engineering team, a motley crew of Starfleet officers and Maquis resistance fighters, were already hard at work in main engineering.
Chakotay sat gloomily to her left in the late Commander Cavit's chair and did his best to ignore her presence. Janeway did not have to be a telepath to feel his hostility towards her. She longed to talk to him, but they could hardly have things out on the bridge, in front of the crew. She would summon him to her ready room, once they were en route to Cardassia. For now she would simply have to live with the sizzling tension in the air.
To make matters worse, a special seat had been fitted to her right, now occupied by Ross Marlow, who was just beginning to lean over to engage her in conversation.
Janeway stiffened. Before Marlow had a chance to involve her in another round of small talk she began the departure procedures.
"Ensign Kim, status report!"
The new cloaking device put great strain on Voyager's systems, but it was an amazing piece of technology all the same. All day the NCC - 74656 had been orbiting Earth, invisible to even the most sophisticated sensors. Currently all systems were functioning within acceptable parameters.
"All right, people. You know what we're here for. Lets do it. Mr. Paris, lay in a course for Cardassia Prime, Warp 6. Engage!"
A brief flash of light was all that was visible of the cloaked vessel as it leapt into warp.
Janeway took inventory of her bridge crew. Trying to lighten the mood a little she quipped,
"Mr. Chakotay, you did great job with the clothes. I think you missed your calling as a tailor."
As soon as the words had left her lips they felt wrong. It was the first thing she had said to him for three months. Seeing the storm brew on his forehead she knew she had made a mistake.
"Whatever you say, Ma'am. I'm glad I'm good for something," he replied, sarcasm dripping from his voice.
A few crewmembers, who had overheard the exchange, looked up briefly, their eyes full of questions.
Oh, this was never going to work! Kathryn Janeway jumped out of her chair, fury burning in her eyes.
"In my ready room, Mr. Chakotay! Now!"
She stormed ahead, the sound of his footsteps falling in behind her.
The hydraulic doors slid shut behind them. Janeway, quickly standing behind her desk, glared at him with barely controlled rage.
"How dare you! How dare you make a scene in front of my crew?" she exclaimed.
Chakotay took a few steps towards her. There certainly was no remorse in his posture.
"How dare I? If you wouldn't mind telling me, Kathryn, why the hell you haven't spoken to me since our return to Earth, then I'd be happy to answer that question!" he shouted.
Kathryn brushed his comment aside.
"Oh, this is insufferable, Chakotay! I expected so much more from you. How are we supposed to work together if you can't at least maintain a professional demeanor?"
"You haven't answered my question yet, Kathryn. Why didn't you reply to my messages? Why did you just disappear like that? After all we'd been through together, I would have thought I'd deserve a little more..."
Hidden behind the anger and bitterness she could hear the pain in his voice. This realization was sobering enough for her rage to turn into guilt. What had she done? He had every right to be angry with her. What had she been thinking? How could she have been so goddamn egotistical? She should have told him three months ago that they could never be anymore than brief acquaintances. At least he deserved an explanation...
"If you have nothing more to say, Captain, then I'll get back to the bridge," he said and turned to walk through the door.
A brief surge of panic went through her. She had to clear the air between them now; otherwise the entire mission would be in jeopardy. It was essential to its success that they were able to work together.
"Chakotay, wait," she exclaimed a little too fast.
He stopped. Janeway sank into her seat.
"Please, have a seat, and I'll explain."
He sat down in the chair on the opposite side of her desk. She could see that he was still fuming. This was not going to be easy... Softly, so as to spare him any more pain, she hesitantly began,
"When we..."
She swallowed, looked down at her hands and then looking him straight in the eyes started again.
"Chakotay, there can never be anything more than a professional relationship between us. Whatever attraction we might have felt at the time when we made love, it was a reaction to the circumstances. If we hadn't met under a barrage of Cardassian torpedoes, do you really think we would have ended up together? I doubt it. Our world's are too different..."
He interrupted her.
"The last time I checked we were living in exactly the same world, in precisely the same timeline, Kathryn."
He was deliberately twisting her words. She hardened once more,
"You know exactly what I mean, Chakotay. I'm a Starfleet captain and you're a Maquis renegade. We stand on opposite sides of the law. We have totally opposing principles..."
He cut her off with a movement of his hand,
"Nonsense, Kathryn! That wasn't the impression I got when we were on the asteroid. If I remember correctly, we did indeed start out on different sides, until you realized that we'd been on the same side all along. Don't you remember how terrified you were when Gul Camet and his troops came to hunt you down like an animal, when you realized that the Cardassians had no intention of honoring that goddamn sham of a treaty? And what about those laws you're talking about? Have you forgotten that it was you who killed Camet? According to Federation law its a crime to kill an ally, Kathryn, and according to that so called "treaty" that's exactly who Camet was. Starfleet and the Federation don't care that Camet was going to have your head turned into a wall mountable trophy. They only care about the fact that stabbed him. And isn't that exactly why they are trying to distance themselves from Voyager, from her captain and from her crew? Take a good look at yourself, Kathryn. You and I, the Maquis and your crew -- we're all on the same side of the law! Don't you ever forget that!"
She had allowed him to vent his anger. There was no point in interrupting him. They would never come to an agreement that way.
Frostily, fighting back the tears that were gathering in her eyes at the cruel memories he had invoked, she replied,
"I haven't forgotten a thing, Chakotay. I wish I could forget. I wish all of it had never happened, but it has. And now I have to live with it. Lets face it, Chakotay, our friendship, or whatever you want to call it, was born under the attack of three Cardassian warships. It's a cliché! The old adage all over again: The enemy of my enemy is my friend. I admit that I allowed myself to get carried away for a while. But take look at the conditions! I was a hostage. My life was in danger, and from more than one side. Psychology has a name for it: Stockholm Syndrome. It all comes down to a basic survival instinct that kicks in during hostage situations and the likes. On top of that we both thought we weren't going to make it out of that asteroid alive, so we clung to each other. We were surrounded by hostile forces, falling rocks, debris, fire, ... All that adrenalin made us react the way we did. There's nothing more to it."
There was a silence between them, then he said,
"I see. Then why didn't you tell me all this three months ago, Kathryn?"
When no answer was forthcoming he continued,
"I'll tell you why! You didn't believe it yourself, that's why. Stockholm syndrome! It's ridiculous. You know I would never have harmed you. I did everything to protect you from Camet and his troops! On one occasion I even gave myself to them to gain some time for you to escape. Some counselor probably spoon-fed you all this psychoanalytical garbage. Then some admiral, and I'll bet ten to one that it was Nechayev, dropped a hint that you'd better not get involved with a Maquis, or your precious Starfleet career might just go flying out of the window. You couldn't trust yourself to talk to me, so you ran away in order to convince yourself of all that rubbish they fed you in the counseling sessions."
His harsh words wounded her deeply, but she could not allow him see how much of an effect her was having on her. The captain's mask firmly in place she straightened and said,
"Believe whatever version makes you happier, Chakotay. Lets just get right down to the basics, shall we? We have an important mission to accomplish. A lot of lives are on the line. If we can't find a way to work together, this mission is going to fail. People are going to die. I won't stand for that. And I refuse to believe that you would jeopardize the lives of your people because of our personal problems. For their sake if not for yourself, lets try to make this work."
It was difficult to remain angry when she was being so goddamn professional about the whole thing. Chakotay jumped out of the chair and began to agitatedly pace the room. He wanted to slap some sense into her.
"Chakotay..." she began hesitantly, suddenly not sounding all that sure of herself anymore.
He turned to face her. He was still furious with her, but she had a point. There was no time for things to get personal now. Too many lives were on the line -- lives he happened to care a lot about.
"All right, Kathryn. For the duration of this mission I'm willing to put our differences aside. But this discussion isn't over yet."
With those words he stormed out of the ready room and back onto the bridge.
Drained of all her energy Janeway dropped her head into her hands and allowed the tears she had held back to silently spill from her eyes. The argument with Chakotay had worn her out. His hurtful words repeated in her head time and again. Did he have a point? Had she indeed only been fooling herself? Was she after all in love with him?
She was so tired, but it did not look like she was going to get much sleep tonight. Her head was spinning. Feeling so much older than her years, she brushed her tears from her cheeks, pushed herself out of her chair and replicated some coffee. Every movement was an effort. Maybe the coffee would help. She was too tired to pace the room, so she stepped onto the upper level of her ready room, sank into the couch under the viewport, holding the mug of coffee with both hands, as if it were her anchor. A pleasant warmth spread from her fingers to the rest of her body lulling her into slumber. She allowed herself to lean back and closed her eyes.
She was just about to dose off when her combadge chirped. It was Marlow reminding her of their meeting in her quarters at 22:00 hours. She glanced at the chronometer on her desk. She had less than twenty minutes to herself...
When she arrived at her quarters Marlow was already standing at the door, a couple of padds in hand. Janeway sighed inwardly. She had hoped to have a couple of minutes to unpack before the meeting. Her bags still lay untouched where she had discarded them on her bed, and it was getting late.
She offered him a seat on one of the command red upholstered armchairs in her lounge, replicated some coffee for both of them and took a seat on the couch opposite him. She had no patience for small talk, so she got straight to the point.
"So, what is it that you wanted to discuss, Mr. Marlow?" she asked.
Marlow adjusted a cushion on the armchair, making himself more comfortable. He was obviously intending to stay for a while...
"Please, call me Ross. May I call you Kathryn? Putting away with the formalities makes things so much easier, don't you think?"
Janeway inwardly winced. She had no intention of getting informal with Marlow, but what was she supposed to tell him?
'I'm sorry, Mr. Marlow, but I just don't like you, so you will continue to address me as "Captain Janeway"?'
Hardly... So she went along with it.
"I was hoping you could help me to develop a plan of action, Kathryn."
"I was hoping you already had one," she replied wryly.
Marlow did not seem to notice the sarcastic undertones in her voice. He sighed and continued,
"I wish I did. It pretty much depends on the conditions we find when we get there. How much do you know about Cardassia Prime?"
She admitted she did not have much knowledge about the planet's defenses. Marlow filled her in.
The planet was surrounded by an extremely efficient orbital defense perimeter that would destroy even the smallest particle of dust that came within its targeting range, unless a clearance code was transmitted from the approaching vessel to the perimeter. Three hundred weapons platforms, each armed with one thousand plasma torpedoes, were an incredible force to reckon with. The clearance codes were unique, so attempting to fake one was out of the question.
Firing on the platforms in an attempt to destroy them was not only implausible because of their sheer number, but also because each platform was surrounded by a regenerative force field, making them immune to weapons fire.
Powerful as they might be, the defense perimeter had a weakness. It lay in its central power source. With the use of her main deflector dish, Voyager could imprint a false signature on the central power source, which was located planetside, in the basement of Central Command. The platforms would read their own power source as an enemy and subsequently destroy it. Once the main power source had been taken out, the platforms would deactivate themselves.
This strategy was useful where surveillance systems were relatively remote. But in the immediate proximity Cardassia Prime it was impossible to pull off such a stunt without being discovered. The Obsidian Order and the Military would pick up the deflector array's energy emissions in no time. Also, in order to use her deflector dish in such a way, Voyager would have to come out of cloak. Otherwise there would not be sufficient energy left over for the deflector to operate. In a nutshell, tempering with the defense perimeter was a bad idea.
Marlow explained that Voyager's main advantage was her cloaking ability. To his knowledge, the defense perimeter's sensors were unable to read cloaked ships. As long as Voyager was able to hide behind the cloaking device she was safe and could literally land on the planet without anyone noticing.
Janeway, however, did not like the odds much. The cloaking device used up a lot of energy. Should Voyager have to make use of her phaser banks or torpedoes, she would have to decloak. There just was not enough energy to operate both weapons and cloak at the same time. Even using the transporters was risky while the ship was cloaked. Fluctuations due to the constant high-energy drain made it extremely difficult to keep patterns stable.
Janeway suggested hiding Voyager in a nearby nebula or behind a moon, and only sending one or two cloaked shuttles to the planet, since Voyager's shuttles had also been fitted with the device. But according to Marlow the energy reserves of a shuttlecraft were insufficient for it to remain cloaked over longer periods. The warp engines of a small craft simply were too small to hold the amount of energy required cloaking. The transporters would be the best way to get to the planet if they wanted to avoid discovery.
Janeway relented, albeit reluctantly. It was obvious that Marlow was far more interested in the accomplishment of the mission than in the safety of her crew. Janeway despised his approach, but since he was the expert on Cardassia, and ultimately the one in charge, she was willing to give his plan a shot. However, she was determined to come up with plan B.
Voyager's E.T.A. at Cardassia Prime was at 6:00 hours, less than eight hours from now. Once there, they would wait for a message from Dunar. He would contact them on a subspace frequency so low in widthband that it was impossible to track without knowing its exact configuration. The message would contain the rendezvous coordinates.
A small away team was to beam down to those coordinates, wearing the black cloaks of Delphidian monks. This way they would not be unnecessarily spoken to by anyone since the members of the relevant religious order on Delphi Argu were infamously reclusive. The cloaks would also serve to hide their identities -- up to a point.
It suddenly struck Janeway.
"Why didn't Starfleet consider changing some of us surgically to appear Cardassian? And why did they change you back? I would have thought your former Cardassian appearance would have given you an edge for this mission. Aren't Cardassians immediately suspicious of aliens?"
It seemed Marlow had an answer to everything.
"Don't forget, we are supposed to have fallen into disgrace with Starfleet and the Federation. Voyager is officially a Maquis vessel. How would the Maquis find a surgeon who'd be willing to perform that kind of surgery? And even if they did managed to find someone corrupt enough to do it, they couldn't afford the price he'd ask for."
It made sense, but she had the odd feeling that something was wrong. Marlow was hiding something... They continued to talk about the composition of the away team. Janeway wanted to take Chakotay, Tuvok, Kim and Marlow. Marlow protested against taking the Vulcan, since he was the only senior bridge officer on Voyager except for Janeway, but she insisted. Tuvok was her security chief. He also knew how to keep a clear head in the presence of danger. He had proven himself invaluable on away missions on countless occasions. Also, he was the only person aboard Voyager she trusted right now. She would be a fool not to take him with her. She was not going to change her mind in this case.
Once they were planetside, they would locate the Cardassian dissidents and their families, and then, one by one, have them beamed aboard Voyager, having fitted them with pattern enhancers to counteract the energy fluctuations. The away team would beam back last. Once everyone was onboard, Voyager was to lay in a course for some secret coordinates that Starfleet was going to provide in a highly encrypted subspace message.
Janeway and Marlow went through a couple of strategic maneuvers, on the off-chance that Voyager might find herself in hostile pursuit. It was getting late, past midnight. Janeway stifled a yawn.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Captain. I had no idea it was this late. Please accept my sincere apologies for keeping you up this late. We've discussed everything I wanted to discuss, anyhow. I was just enjoying the company. I'll see you tomorrow morning," Marlow excused himself.
Janeway was more than happy to see the back of him. He was just about to walk out of the door, when he turned back one last time.
"May I meet you for breakfast in the mess hall?"
The man was a pest! Still, she knew how to get herself out of this one.
"I don't think I'll be having breakfast in the morning, Mr. Marlow. There's simply too much to do."
But Marlow was not easy to get rid off.
"Captain, I would seriously advise you to have a good breakfast in the morning. You don't know when you'll get the chance to eat again. We may get stuck planetside. Why don't we meet at 5:00? I'll have to make sure that the captain leading this important mission is keeping up her strength," he said.
The smile he gave her would have been disarming if he were not so damn insufferable.
"I'll have something to eat in my quarters. Going to the mess hall will take too much time. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd really like to get some sleep. It's been a long day."
When she was finally alone, she quickly unpacked her bags, took a sonic shower -- she was too tired to indulge in a bath, which she usually preferred -- and went to bed. But Kathryn Janeway was restless. It was always like this before a dangerous mission, and the confrontation with Chakotay did nothing to calm her nerves.
She disliked the plan of action Marlow had come up with. It was too dangerous. The way he had planned things, the slightest change in a single variable would mean disaster. Having tossed and turned for almost an hour, she gave up on sleep, donned a robe and went into the lounge to replicate some more coffee. She had to come up with plan B...
Her doorbell sounded. Who would pay her a visit at such a late hour? She sincerely hoped it was not Marlow.
"Come in!" she called warily.
The doors slid open, and Chakotay stepped into her quarters. He was still fully dressed. It seemed that she was not the only one who had trouble sleeping tonight.
"I'm sorry, Captain, but I have to speak to you about tomorrow. The safety of my people is involved. I need to know what you're planning." he said heatedly.
Despite their differences and the overt hostility in his voice, Kathryn was almost glad that he had come. She needed to talk to a third party. She had meant to consult Tuvok, but now that Chakotay was here she might as well ask his opinion. Maquis or not, he was no fool. What did Chakotay think of Marlow and his plan? She told him to help himself to the replicator and began to unravel the details of Marlow's strategy. As it turned out she was not the only one who mistrusted Nechayev's expert. Chakotay disapproved of his plan as much as she did. Kathryn felt a little relieved. Now she did not have to carry the entire burden of this mission on her shoulders. Together they would come up with an alternative.
Surely they could send a cloaked shuttle to the surface. Kathryn was determined not to use the transporters under the current treacherous conditions. Chakotay suggested consulting B'Elanna about the possibility of improving the shuttle's energy output. Knowing full well that Torres was an extraordinarily talented engineer -- some of the things she had done to the Maquis base on the asteroid were revolutionary and simply amazing -- Kathryn agreed but insisted on Carey being brought into the discussion as well. After all, he was Voyager's chief engineer. She did not want any bad blood between her Starfleet crew and Chakotay's Maquis. This mission had plenty of problems as it was. Minutes later, Carey, a rather grouchy half-Klingon and a small group of Voyager's top engineers quietly made their way to the shuttle bay.
As the night went on, Kathryn and Chakotay became more relaxed, and the tone between them less strained, although it remained distantly polite. They helped themselves to several cups of coffee whilst searching Voyager's extensive database for information about Cardassia Prime's orbital defense systems. Much to their surprise, there was no information whatsoever on Cardassia Prime or its surrounding colonies. Someone must have tempered with the files... It was an odd, to say the least.
After awhile Carey contacted them to let them know that the shuttle's energy output could be adjusted so that its reserves were being used more efficiently, thus leaving more for the cloaking device. Janeway gave orders to proceed.
At 03:00 hours, with the engineering team still full at work in the shuttle bay, Voyager's captain and the Maquis leader called it a night.
"I'll see you in two hours in the conference room." she said, rubbing her stiff neck. Her shoulders, neck and temples had been throbbing for hours. It had been a tough day.
Chakotay noticed her discomfort. He had a sudden urge to rush over to her and massage those strained muscles, but he caught himself. She would not welcome it, and he did not want to start another argument so shortly before crunch time. He turned and walked out of the door.
Kathryn Janeway crawled back to bed, feeling a little more at peace with herself now that plan B had been initiated. And she was going to make sure that Marlow did not get any wind of it. She had two hours before the start of the final briefing. She might as well try to catch some sleep...
In his quarters, Ross Marlow was still up and about. He had been busy preparing for the next day. Now he activated the small personal console that stood atop his desk under a viewport. He entered a message.
To Admiral A. Nechayev
Classified
Security Clearance Level 10 required
Time: 03:00 hours
Admiral,
Everything going according to plan. No one suspecting anything, however, get the feeling Janeway does not trust me. Might have to terminate her earlier than planned, should she try to stand in our way. Will contact you again when mission carried out.
R.M.