Chapter 3
Six days, two starships, and an incredibly foul mood later, Jacob Paris got his first look at Earth in over a year. He usually took the more leisurely route home, when he bothered to make the trip at all, and spent nine days moving between transport vessels and transit stations. This time he had been ordered home, and so he had caught a ride, first to Vulcan and finally to Earth for the last leg of the trip. To say he wasn't pleased was a bit of an understatement. Jake did not appreciate being pulled out of his comfortable, quiet little space station with little choice in the matter. Nechayev had informed him, without even trying to mince words, that he would be taking command of the USS Aegeus or she would find an outpost so uninteresting, and so under populated that even the Borg would ignore it, and stick him there until the base's bulkheads rotted.
She didn't exactly paint a pretty picture, but then, Alynna Nechayev rarely attempted to. Since she wasn't in the mood to play, Jake decided he wasn't either. He demanded to know what was so all-fired special about the Aegeus and why he was being given an ultimatum now, when Command had been perfectly happy to leave him alone for the past four years. In response, the Admiral had sent him the ship's mission brief. He only managed to read two sentences before he read a name that had him seeing red.
Janeway.
All at once Paris was able to do the math; two plus two equaled six, which was exactly the number of pips he wanted nothing to do with, and he wasn't going to stand for it. Nechayev could put him any damned place she pleased, but he wasn't going to capitulate because someone else had decided to meddle in his life.
It was late when he stepped off the transporter pad at Headquarters, after 1900 hours. The ship that ferried him to Earth from Vulcan had let him off at Earth Dock, and from there, he had beamed to the surface. The central computer system at HQ told him that his quarry was still in the building, though, so he made his way up to that level. Level 52 had a good view. On another day he might have decided to enjoy it, and he was certain that some Admirals must get to live the good life, but Jake was in no mood for that.
He swept into the Admiral's office and tossed the standard issue duffel he was carrying onto a chair in front of the aide's desk. "Is the Admiral still in?" He knew that must be the case, since the aide wouldn't still be present otherwise. It must be nice holding up the lives of mere mortals for the sake of professional gain and not having a personal life. Jake didn't wait for an answer. He walked right past the aide and through the doors that would admit him into the Admiral's inner sanctum.
"I'm willing to admit that you probably got pulled into a bad situation," he began, not caring about the surprised look he was getting, or the fact that he could be interrupting something. He'd had several days to work up a full head of steam, after all, and since he was headed to the most remote, run down outpost in the known galaxy, he didn't really care if he was addressing a superior officer in a manner that would get him busted back to lieutenant… or possibly crewman. The night was young and he was on a roll. "I told that old mule to stay out of my career, so maybe you can tell me why the two of you think my future prospects are any of your damned business."
Kathryn blinked a few times. It took her a moment, because he was a few years older than the picture that had accompanied his service record and his hair was streaked through with more silver than brown, but the flashing blue eyes, the unhappy twist of his mouth, and the beleaguered manner quickly gave it away. Jacob Paris had finally landed, and apparently she was the perpetrator of all the current wrongs in his life. She opened her mouth to respond, but he carried on before she could. While he ranted, she looked behind him to where Decan now stood, prepared to contact security. She dismissed him with a barely noticeable shake of her head.
"If you need another reclamation project," he paced the floor in front of her desk; he flung his hand in her direction, gesticulating angrily to make his point, "I'm sure you can find one, but the last time I checked I had already put my ass on the line for this Federation. I don't need you fighting Owen's battles with his next wayward progeny."
Her lips twisted together in an effort to suppress her smile. It was rather difficult. If he thought he didn't have anything in common with the rest of his family, he was mistaken. She couldn't even count the number of times he had watched Owen work himself into a full fit of temper like this, and he was willfully carrying on in a manner that she might have expected of Tom. With her amusement growing at each accusation, Kathryn tilted her head and tried to look as though she was seriously considering his words.
"Yes, I know, you did such a fabulous job with the last one, believe me, I've heard all about it, but my life isn't off the rails." Paris snorted indignantly, "I know your type, you and my Uncle, and you're always chomping at the bit to go on the next great adventure. Well I've had enough adventures for a while. You can take your starship, your taskforce, and find another flying monkey because I'm perfectly happy sitting on my Starbase counting space rocks." He came to a stop directly in front of her desk and faced her. Jake stared at her, hands on his hips, and glowered darkly at her. He waited the space of a few beats for her to respond, and when she didn't, his teeth ground together. "Well?"
If she was aware of anything regarding the Captain's disposition following his little tirade, it was that he had absolutely no problem speaking his mind. Kathryn decided that would bode well, as long as he did it within reason. She appreciated an officer that was willing to tell her when they thought she was wrong. She may not want to hear it, but Kathryn wasn't in the habit of surrounding herself with those incapable of thinking for themselves. While she rubbed her lips together in a final attempt to suppress her mirth, Kathryn could see the Captain gearing up to launch into another round of accusations and judgments about her character. She held up a hand to ward him off. "Chakotay, I'm going to have to call you back. Something has come up."
"Yes, I can hear that." Had he not been able to see Kathryn's amused response via the comm, he might have been concerned. He choked to cover a low chuckle when he saw her jaw working as she tried to retain a stoic façade. She was failing miserably, at least to his eyes. "I'll call you tomorrow and let you know how the run went."
"I would appreciate that, thank you." She reached over and cut the link. As her computer terminal went dark, she folded her hands in her lap and regarded the Captain in front of her. "I suppose that was your way of telling me that it was okay for me to speak now. I have to admit, I wasn't exactly sure." She had allowed him to vent, and now she could only assume that he was finished. "I feel that I should also add, Captain, that if this is how you treat your superiors then I feel incredibly sorry for your first officer."
Paris's blue eyes flashed. He opened his mouth to respond, but then he saw the way her lips pursed. He took a moment to take a breath and realized that her eyes were sparkling at him and they had crinkled at the corners. She was amused. He huffed a sigh. Jake dropped his long body into the chair in front of her desk and scowled at her. "How did my smart-mouthed little cousin survive seven years with you and get his commission restored if you're such a sarcastic pain in the ass?"
A single, perfectly sculpted brow rose in response to his statement. That alone was enough to earn him a formal reprimand, and possibly cost him a pip, if she was willing to file all the paperwork to make it happen. Luckily for him she wasn't in the mood, instead she averted her gaze to her nails and made a show of checking them. "Well," she said at length, "unlike his older and obviously less wise cousin, Tom has learned to stop when he's behind." Finding her nails still perfectly manicured, she propped her elbow on the arm of her chair and rested her chin atop her fingers. "At the risk of tempting your ire again," there was a falsely demure note in her tone, "let me assure you that your commission was not requested by this office."
The captain's eyes narrowed. He wasn't sure that he believed her, but she was certainly making a good case at displaying how unaffected she was at his displeasure. Cool as the proverbial cucumber, as some would say. Jake folded his arms across his chest. "And yet, it's your name on my mission orders," he pointed out.
"Yes." Kathryn replied easily. "I was informed that your name was on an incredibly short list to replace Captain Ellis, and given the specifics of the mission to which the Aegeus has been assigned, it was decided that you were the better candidate. As I understand it the only advisement that Admiral Nechayev took into consideration was her own. That your dissent has been brought to my attention, instead of being lodged more formally with the Fleet Admiral's office tells me that you are aware of how futile that action would be." She stroked a single finger across the curve of her chin while she regarded him. If he was feeling at all chastised, he wasn't showing it. He met her gaze and while he appeared to have calmed, he was no more pleased than he had been before. "I suppose you made the assumption that my involvement bore some sort of partiality, a favor if you will, for my mentor, your uncle, or the old mule as I believe you called him, given his obvious opinions about your career path. I can assure you now that is not the case. My name appears on your mission orders because your ship was already assigned to my taskforce before you were recalled form Starbase 234. Admiral Nechayev chose you because you are familiar with the area. You can provide insight and have the added advantage of having commanded a starship before. As far as Admiral Paris is concerned, he and I have not discussed your return or your inclusion in the taskforce, as he and I have both been very busy. I believe, if the rumors are true," her eyes sparkled happily, "that your uncle is occupied with preparing for a transfer to Startfleet Intelligence."
Jake sighed. He now felt appropriately taken to task. That really didn't make him feel any better about the whole damn thing. His arms dropped to rest against the sides of the chair he was seated in. His mouth turned down in a grimace. "Then I guess I owe you an apology," he said, just a little bit grudgingly. He didn't like admitting he was wrong. He could do it, but he didn't like it one iota.
"I guess you do." Kathryn pushed up from her desk. "Can I get you anything?" She walked to the replicator, suddenly more in need of a cup of coffee than the dinner that had been canceled just prior to Paris's arrival.
"As long as it doesn't come with a trip to the brig," Jake remarked wryly, "I'll take a coffee."
That was a point in his favor, she decided. Kathryn ordered the beverages and considered what to do with him while she waited for them to materialize. With the drinks in hand, she returned to her desk. "The first thing that we need to establish, Captain, is that if we are going to have any sort of suitable working camaraderie, you are going to have to learn very quickly to accept that coffee is a food group."
His brows rose in surprise. Jake thought about that as he accepted the cup. He watched her round the desk and reclaim her seat. He couldn't decide if she was joking or not. Finally, he shrugged. "I suppose I could see the validity of that argument. Technically, coffee is made from the coffee bean, which is actually derived from the seed of a plant, and produced when the beans are ground and hot water is added." A corner of his mouth quirked up in a crooked grin as he met her gaze, "by that way of thinking, you could even go as far as to suggest that the substance generated when the water is added to ground beans is a broth. So I guess you're telling me that you're always in the mood for vegetable soup?"
Kathryn decided she liked him. "If you can sell that to Starfleet Medical and get every doctor that I've ever known, particularly one incredibly stubborn EMH, off my back… Well, Captain, I'll sign the orders to send you back to your Starbase myself."
Jake chuckled quietly. He shook his head and slumped a little more comfortably in his chair. "I guess Sovereign-class isn't really like riding in a bucket of bolts. I'll just have to learn to like it."
"Damn." She sighed. "You were showing such promise, too. I'm going to have to look past this little disappointment and let your work over the coming weeks speak for itself. I will try not to hold this failure against you, but I have been accused of being biased. Quite recently, as a matter of fact."
He lifted his cup in a mock salute. "Then I guess we'll just have to learn to overcome our shortcomings together, Admiral."
"Therein lies the problem." Kathryn leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. She held her coffee cup cradled in both hands. "I don't have any shortcomings," she explained.
It was said with such a straight face that, for a moment, Jake thought she truly believed that. Then, just as he had earlier, he saw the way her eyes glinted at him, turning a darker shade of blue and crinkling at the corners. When she lifted her cup to her mouth, he realized she was hiding a smile. "I have a feeling that you're going to be trouble, Admiral." He tilted his head to one side and his lips lifted in a crooked, teasing grin. "So is that how you did it? You bluffed your way across the Delta Quadrant and beat the Borg Queen with a sly little poker face?"
She laughed, and it was a low, throaty sound. "If only it had been that easy." Kathryn tipped her head back and let it rest against the tall backrest behind her. "Although the poker face did come in handy with Her Highness a couple of times." Her gaze shifted and seemed to turn inward, while her expression looked almost rueful. "I can't take all the credit. I can't even take most of the credit. My crew did all the heavy lifting."
"I hear the pilot wasn't half bad." Jake watched her, saw her smile soften at the mention of his once wayward cousin. "You know, he had a pretty decent teacher." Her laugh, he decided, wasn't a half bad sound. Maybe he had been away for too long, or perhaps it was just the war, but he couldn't remember the last time he had heard anyone with an Admiral's bar laugh so freely. "If you're wanting to hand out some more of that credit." He leaned forward and placed his cup on her desk before he settled back, getting more comfortable. "I bet you get tired of being asked about it. I only read part of that mission plan, and it's pretty damn ambitious. It sounds like the kind of thing someone might come up with if they didn't want to be forever marked by something they'd rather put behind them."
"Maybe." He had been traveling for several days, but she didn't think the weary look in his eyes was entirely related to physical fatigue. Kathryn sighed as she put her coffee aside. "You weren't entirely wrong earlier. I was one of those types, always looking for the next adventure. I wanted to explore the galaxy, discover new things, and see the kind of phenomena that no one had ever imagined could exist. After I switched to command, that didn't change, but I planned to do it from the bridge of a starship."
"I think we all joined the Fleet with that kind of adventure in mind. I sure as hell didn't do it to watch my friends get blown apart." Jake leaned forward and rested his arms across his knees. His lips thinned, and a deep frown drew his brows together. "I wanted to command a ship of my own, but I wasn't in any hurry to do it. I liked my work. I liked getting to know a well-put together engine, or putting together just the right crew as the XO. I wanted that fourth pip, but I didn't think getting there was a race. I was on the Socrates for five years. I went from Chief Engineer to XO, but you know all that, because I'm betting by now you're as familiar with my service record as I am. Captain Andrews was a good officer, and she was a damn good friend. I still talk to her husband, usually around the anniversary. Both her kids want to go to the Academy and Paul is having issues with it. I can't blame him. You see, when that kill shot came, when we knew that there was nothing else we could do, that the Socrates was going to be lost, Maria ordered everyone off the ship. The hell of it is, the Jem'Hadar were picking off the escape pods. It's what they did. We were going to have to put the ship between them and the crew, or no one was going to make it out alive. Our weapons were gone, so we sent our Tactical Chief to make sure everyone got out."
As he spoke, his tone grew more somber, until it was rasping thickly, as if the grief and regret he felt was caressing every word that crossed his tongue. "The bridge had already taken pretty heavy damage, and our engines were damn near shot. Engineering had already transferred everything to the bridge so they could evacuate and I had my hands full. Aaron Michaels. I'll never forget him, he was a hell of a pilot, but it was like trying to turn the Titanic away from that godforsaken iceberg. He was probably the only one who could do it. When the relays blew Maria knew what was going to happen. She wasn't a half bad pilot, and she would have given it her all, but it was Aaron we needed in that moment. She put her body between him and the blast."
His jaw clenched. Five years later it was still fresh, still as keenly bitter as it had ever been. "He had some injuries, but he could still fly. He got the ship turned around. We turned our belly toward the beasts, made ourselves a bigger shield, and a hell of a lot bigger target. Then I picked up my Captain and we got the hell out of there. When it was over we lost thirty, out of a crew of almost five hundred. It was almost unheard of in those days. Ships were being lost with all hands, hundreds of thousands were lost on Betazed during the occupation, thousands more on Earth when the Breen attacked. We lost thirty, and Maria Andrews died to make it happen, but Starfleet put a medal on my chest and an extra pip on my collar. By the time I was cleared to get back out there the war was over. The thought of standing on another bridge, of watching the kids that were crewing those ships get put into a position where they might not see their parents again… Where someone that had barely had a chance to even live might have to make a life or death decision for someone else? The only choice I had was to take the pip or muster out. It felt like doing the latter would be a slap in the face to the sacrifice Captain Andrews made, to the nightmares her kids were having after she died. I found the posting on Starbase 234 by accident, but it was a lifeline. I found a quiet little corner and I crawled into it, and I'll tell you, the Counselors keep clearing me, but I think it might be because I'm not the only one waiting for hellfire and damnation to rain down on us again."
Jake shook his head. While he spoke, he watched her face grow somber, watched her mouth turn down and sadness color her eyes to a pale shade of gray. He didn't want to bring her down so far, but she needed to understand. He thought maybe she already did, but it was hard to know when she hadn't been there for the war. She missed it all, but he didn't imagine that meant she'd had it any easier. "When you read about the greats, all those Captains that came before us, the ones that risked everything so we would be here today, you wonder what they would do. Pike said that Starfleet is a promise. I give my life for you, you give your life for me, and nobody gets left behind. Well, Admiral, we left people behind. The Dominion walked into our house and delivered a sucker punch to the Federation that it still hasn't recovered from."
"I know." Kathryn leaned forward. She clasped her hands together and laid them on the surface of her desk. She leaned against the edge with her weight on her elbows and met his gaze. "I want to prevent that from happening again. I won't say that our experiences were similar, far from it. My ship wasn't at war, even if it felt like it sometimes. There were days when we didn't know if the first contact situation we were in would lead to death, destruction, or the supplies we so desperately needed. We had no idea what was happening here, and to get back and find out how devastated our homes were in our absence was a traumatic experience of its own. We know that our friends and families suffered, that we lost colleagues and mentors, and entire colonies were wiped out. I can't imagine what it must have been like to live through that. I knew Maria Andrews. She was aboard the Billings with me. I considered her for first officer when Voyager was commissioned, but she was offered the Socrates. You're right, she was a hell of an officer, and I can easily picture her final moments on her bridge. That was the officer that I knew, too. I want to prevent another conflict, another war like that one. We could take advantage of the Romulan situation, but that isn't who we are. That isn't what the Federation was created to be. I left enough people behind in the Delta Quadrant," she said thickly, "I won't do that here. Not if I can help it."
He held her gaze for several long moments. Jake saw the truth of it in her eyes. She had been through her own version of hell. If some of the accounts of it that he read were true, she was lucky to get as much of her crew home as she had, much less get home at all. Like him, she wasn't looking to let the universe kick her in the teeth again. Jake had gone to a quiet corner of the quadrant to nurse his battered spirit and try to find a way to heal from all the things he had seen, and done, and been through. He realized, staring back at her, that she was doing that from her desk. Only her method was a little more proactive. It was also a bit humbling.
"Okay." Jake nodded once, decision made. "Tell me how I can help, Admiral."
Chakotay was still quietly laughing when his computer terminal went dark. He picked up the padd he was reading when he remembered that he needed to call and cancel their dinner meeting. It was the second time since that day in her office that one of them had needed to postpone. The first time, it was Kathryn. He thought she might be dodging him, despite her claims to the contrary, and while she might be an expert at the act of misdirection and avoidance, even she wouldn't fabricate a summons to Presidential Headquarters. Bacco and her senior advisors had requested a briefing on the Romulan situation and a status update on the mission plans. Kathryn, along with Admirals Nechayev and Akaar, and Captain Riker, made the trip to France to attend the meeting.
They rescheduled their dinner and had avoided moving it to a lunch date to prevent work from interfering again. Chakotay was beginning to wonder if maybe the universe was trying to tell him something. This time he was the one with the unavoidable change in plans. During Voyager's refit several months before, two of the items on Engineering's wish list had been a new warp engine and a navigation system. Many of the enhancements they made in the Delta Quadrant were folded into the refit, but over the last several months they had found that the ship just wasn't running the way it should. It didn't require any major maintenance, but Torres wasn't satisfied with the work that the engineers at Utopia Planetia had performed. She had taken advantage of their down time to do some upgrades and wanted everything tested and approved before much of the crew, herself included, went on leave.
The ship was going to be deployed in another couple of weeks and the mission plan was anticipating several weeks of patrol on the Romulan side of the Neutral Zone. The crew of Voyager, along with the crews of the other ships that were being pulled in for the taskforce, was being granted a rotating leave schedule so they'd have fresh, clear minds when they hit that sector of the Beta Quadrant. Chakotay couldn't disagree with B'Elanna's thinking. He wanted the ship's systems in top shape before they reached that area of space and ran into any potential trouble. With the Chief Engineer's corrections in place, Voyager was going to make a quick run to Vulcan and back, put the ship through its paces, and test out those engines. The ship was leaving first thing the following morning and Chakotay wanted to make sure that everyone was on board and accounted for, including the Vulcan Scientists they were giving a ride.
In place of having dinner with Kathryn, and finally having a conversation he thought they were overdue for, Chakotay found himself in his ready room reading through the last engineering report. At the sound of his door chime he put the report down again and suppressed the urge to sigh. At this rate he might never get it read. "Come in."
Tom appeared, carrying with him another report. He waved it in greeting as he approached the Captain's desk. "Ensign Breon and I just finished running the final diagnostic on helm control. Everything checks out, and B'Elanna is promising me we won't have that delay in the port thrusters anymore." He passed the report into the Captain's hands and, when he was invited to sit, lowered himself into one of the chairs in front of the desk. He tugged at his uniform jacket; Tom wasn't sure he liked the new style. "I thought you had plans tonight," he asked, "shouldn't you be getting out of here if you're going to make it on time?"
"We decided to wait until Voyager gets back from Vulcan," he replied, already skimming through the new report. Chakotay put the padd aside, with the others that were waiting for his attention, and leaned back in his chair. "It's just as well, she had an unexpected… appointment… arrive while we were talking." Thinking back on it, Chakotay fought the urge to laugh again. "Your next family gathering ought to be interesting. I got the impression that Captain Paris isn't thrilled about his reassignment."
"I'm looking forward to not being the black sheep in the family anymore," Tom grinned. "From ne'er do well to first officer on one of the most well known ships in Starfleet? It's about time my dad had someone else to focus all his well-meaning advice on. These days the only thing he asks me for are new pictures of Miral. It's not my dad I'm worried about right now, though." Tom smirked. "I doubt Jake has any idea what he's getting into. I wouldn't mind being a fly on that wall, as the saying goes. It's been too long since I was able to watch Admiral Janeway take someone down."
"She was still a Captain the last time either of us had that opportunity, I think." Chakotay shared a nostalgic look with his XO. Times had changed. It was his ship now, and if anyone had asked him seven years ago if he thought that either of them would end up where they were, he'd have laughed at the absurdity of it. "What can you tell me about him?"
"Jake?" Tom shrugged. "There's not a lot to tell, really. We weren't close, mainly because he was older than me. It wasn't like I grew up with him. Jake was already at the Academy when I was a kid." He scrubbed a hand through his hair, but grinned as he thought back. "He used to take me to the flight simulator. I was barely big enough to sit in the thing." At Chakotay's surprised expression, Tom shrugged. "It started out as a lark. He found me sitting outside my dad's office one day. The old man was running behind, again, and I was about two seconds away from having my dad's aide shove me in a shipping container headed for Deep Space 6. I guess I could be a bit of a handful as a kid."
The Captain laughed. "Paris, you were a handful as a Lieutenant." He settled more comfortably in his chair and gestured for him to continue. So far the other Paris didn't sound too bad, but it wasn't hard to look out for a kid that wasn't getting the attention it needed. "What happened?"
"Jake was headed over to the flight control building. He was a fourth year, I think. He took me with him. Jake was on Nova Squad, he was getting ready to use the simulator to test out a flight plan. I had been in the sim before, but my dad didn't always have time to hang out. Jake hadn't believed the stories he'd heard from dad or the FCO about the little kid that was handling the simulator better than some ensigns. After seeing it once, if he was free and my dad got held up, he told Dad's aide to contact him and we'd go over and get some flight time in. Fourth year Cadets don't have a lot of free time, but Jake was a fleet brat like me. Uncle Cole was always deployed somewhere, so Jake knew what it was like." The commander shrugged. "Those might be some of my better memories of my dad when I was a kid. I get it now, but I didn't back then."
"He doesn't sound like a bad guy." Chakotay grinned crookedly. "Actually, when he barged into Kathryn's office and started reading her the riot act while we were talking, I thought he sounded more frustrated than insubordinate. I guess we'll find out if he survived the encounter. She looked like she was trying to decide whether to laugh or find a ship with some particularly nasty plasma manifolds to toss him onto for a while."
"I can't believe we're missing that." Tom groaned. "This might be the first time that I really thought our promotions were inconvenient. You know, I remember this one time that Jake was able to pick me up at Dad's office. Dad got held up in this meeting. It was another cadet, younger than my cousin. Jake said she was crazy, beyond nuts. She had gotten my dad to be her advisor, and he made her write a thesis proposal in a single weekend. Even fourth years weren't made to do that, but that's my Dad. He didn't waste time with people who couldn't meet his expectations. I didn't know who it was until after we got back." That was after he had finally talked to his father and actually listened to what the other man had to say. Their relationship was better than it had been. It wasn't perfect, but it was nice to be able to talk without every conversation ending up a shouting match. His dad had told him some interesting stories about his former Captain. "As it turns out," Tom continued, missing how things on Voyager used to be, just a little, "Jake was right. She is a little insane. She likes to fly through binaries and stick it to the Borg, and man can she hustle a mean game of pool."
Chakotay snorted a laugh. "You should see her play velocity." He was sure his shoulder would never be the same. After that, he had begged off, deciding it was safer to play with B'Elanna, and convinced Kathryn to teach Seven the game instead.
"Captain, with all due respect, everyone who was on board knows that you gave those games a wide berth. You had more evasive maneuvers when it came to the Admiral and Velocity than I had in the middle of a Kazon ambush." There was also a part of Tom that was still wondering why the two of them were still evading each other. B'Elanna thought that they might have just missed their chance. After all, time wasn't going to stop or slow down just because their relationship decisions were still up in the air.
"Speaking of evasive maneuvers," Chakotay had witnessed Tom's expression turning a little too inquisitive. He wanted to cut any more questions or comments about the Admiral short before they could turn too personal. "Since I had to cancel dinner with the Admiral so that you and our Chief Engineer can test the new navigation system and her engine upgrades, let's make sure they work."
"Aye, Captain." Tom stood up and straightened his jacket again. He could recognize a dismissal when it was issued and decided the hour was too late to try pushing his luck at finding out more. He had a few other tasks to complete before he could call it a night, and he knew that Miral would have him and B'Elanna up well before their alarm sounded. As he headed toward the door, he called out a jaunty, "One successful trip to Vulcan coming right up."
"Good." Chakotay reached for the engineering report again. "And Tom, try not to break the new helm officer. This is the third one in six months. They aren't all going to be you."
The first officer paused at the door. His brows rose in mild surprise. "Captain, was that a compliment?"
Chakotay narrowly avoided rolling his eyes at the other man. "An observation."
"No," Tom drawled. "I think it was a compliment. I think you're finally going to get around to admitting that you like having me around. That's why you wanted me to be your XO."
"Actually," Chakotay turned back to his reading, but his dimples appeared when he grinned, "I just thought you could keep the spot warm for Harry. He's still a couple of promotions behind." The truth was far more astonishing; there was no one he trusted more to be in that position now than Paris. "You're dismissed, Commander."
Chakotay waited until he was alone again to toss the report back onto his desk. He was wishing that he hadn't canceled dinner. Aside from a healthy dose of curiosity for how that meeting had turned out, he was looking forward to their evening. He missed her. He couldn't remember the last time they had been able to just sit and talk without being rushed or interrupted. If he thought hard enough, he decided it might have been before she had offered him Voyager. It was enough to make him wonder if the ship was just destined to be an obstruction, the one thing that would always keep them apart.
He rubbed a hand over his face. There was nothing he could do about it at the moment. He had a transport run to make, engines to test, and a crew that needed to go on leave before they got deployed to a volatile location. Chakotay resolved to put it aside until they got back from Vulcan. He would reschedule with Kathryn then and they would have the conversation they had avoided for entirely too long. If they didn't do it soon he didn't know what that would mean for them, or if it would even mean anything at all.
-TBC-