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Chapter 3
The third time I saw her, she was a diplomat.
No one is more surprised than I am when Captain Janeway returns to the Brig the very next day, holding my medicine bundle carefully in her hands.
I jump to my feet, waiting impatiently as she nods to today's guard, who taps at her controls and lowers the forcefield on my cell.
"I scanned the contents myself," Janeway says as she hands the bundle to me. "I'm going to permit you to take this, Captain, but I want you to give your word that you won't abuse my good will."
"You have it," I say. I wonder why she would even trust my word. I'm just a no-good Maquis rebel in her eyes. Then again, she displayed a shocking level of trust toward that no-good rebel Tom Paris, too. Maybe naivety is her weakness. That little piece of information may come in handy later.
I cradle the medicine bundle in my hands, grateful to feel the shapes inside: the stone, and the wing, and the akoonah. Nothing missing. Janeway is more understanding than I thought.
"Your device is fascinating," she says as the guard reactivates the forcefield. "The images it sends… it was like a dream, only far more real. How does it work? Does it tap into brain waves, or-"
"You used it?" I interrupt in shock. My akoonah - it's sacred. We don't even show the contents of our medicine bundle to family members, that's how seriously we take it. I knew someone would have to open the bundle to inspect it, but to turn the device on…
"I had to make sure it was safe to give you," she says matter-of-factly. "It was remarkable… when I touched the device, it took me to a beautiful beach, just as the sun was rising." In the brightness of her eyes I can see the curious scientist that lies within every Starfleet officer. "And then-"
"Stop!" I interrupt her. "Don't tell me what animal you saw."
She looks surprised. "Why not?"
I sigh. Can I make her understand, or is she too much of a scientist? "What you saw was your animal guide. It's something like a… an advisor, or a counselor. It's a spirit that gives you guidance when you need it. It will appear only for you. If you speak of your experiences, you'll offend your animal guide."
Her mouth makes an o, and she doesn't immediately say anything. I think she looks more intrigued than contemptuous. That's something, then. But why do I care what she thinks of my beliefs? I myself was contemptuous of them once. And she's a stranger to me, so her opinions don't matter.
Or they shouldn't.
Janeway takes a breath to speak, but I never find out what she was going to say next, because at that moment, the Red Alert goes off. Tuvok's voice is heard over the com. "Captain Janeway, please report to the Bridge."
She leaves at a trot without a parting glance for me. The guard bends her head over her console, making her preparations for Red Alert. I know there will be another guard arriving soon, to help contain me in case a power outage knocks out the forcefield. I tuck my medicine bundle safely under the mattress and then sit down on the bed, wedging myself into the corner as best as I can while bracing my hands against the walls. If someone opens fire on Voyager, things could get real uncomfortable real fast in here.
But after the second guard arrives, the minutes tick by, and no blows rock the ship. All that happens is that I hear the warp engines power down.
More time passes. Then the guard's console beeps an alert, and she looks at the readout and then unexpectedly deactivates my forcefield.
"Come with us," she says, and the two armed guards escort me out of the Brig and down the corridor. Red lights are flashing at regular intervals, but still there is no weapons fire. We get in the turbolift, and as it takes us up to the Bridge the guards cuff my hands behind my back. Why didn't they do that back in the Brig? They must have been instructed to do it this way; Tuvok doesn't seem the type to permit incompetence under his command.
"Speak when you're spoken to, and not at any other time," the woman tells me briefly.
The doors slide open, and I'm taken onto the Bridge, past Tuvok standing impassively at Tactical. Captain Janeway is standing in front of the captain's chair, accompanied by an older man in a red command uniform; her First Officer, presumably. The man gives me a cold stare as I'm marched past him and placed in the center of the Bridge, facing the viewscreen. Guess he's not a fan of the Maquis.
And when I look up at the viewscreen, who do I see but my old friend Gul Evek?
The Cardassian's serpentine features pull into a grimace when he sees me. The feeling's pretty mutual. I guess he isn't too happy about the damage his ship took a few days ago when he failed to blow us to smithereens in the Badlands.
"As you can see, Gul Evek," Janeway says, with a subtly hard edge to her voice, "we are transporting the crew of the Val Jean to Earth, where they will be charged with violating the Cardassian-Federation treaty. Since you and I are both eager to see justice done, I'm sure you won't mind if we take our leave of you now and resume our journey."
"Actually, if you don't mind, Captain, I'd like to beam over several of my men to accompany you," Evek says. "This man is dangerous; he and his crew have destroyed a number of Cardassian facilities, and they are personally responsible for the deaths of eight of my crew. You're going to need our assistance to transport such dangerous terrorists."
Only eight? I confess myself disappointed. I thought we had taken out at least a dozen.
Janeway's smile is mask-like. "A very generous offer, Gul Evek, but I assure you, my crew is more than capable of keeping the Maquis secure."
"Are they?" Gul Evek said. "Well, far be it from me to criticize your crew, Captain, but the fact of the matter is, Starfleet has been promising for years that they would handle the Maquis problem, and yet our ships are still being harried from here to the Badlands. It seems Starfleet's methods in controlling the Maquis leave something to be desired. Better let my men accompany you to Sector 001, just to be safe."
"Unnecessary. You have my word of honor that the Maquis on my ship will remain in custody until I hand them over to the authorities on Earth."
"You have me convinced, of course, Captain," Evek says smoothly, "but unfortunately, my superiors will need a little more persuasion. Some of them - overly paranoid due to this long conflict, perhaps - have their doubts about whether Starfleet is trying as hard as it could to stop the Maquis. Some of them even suggest that Starfleet is harboring the Maquis, assisting them with information and weapons, and arresting them only to placate us until they later release the prisoners to wreak further havoc on our Empire. Now, I don't believe that for a moment, but my superiors require more than promises. If you will not permit an escort, then I will simply have to find some other way to keep an eye on you."
Two spots of color appear on Janeway's cheeks. "You know the terms of the treaty as well as I do, Evek. If your ship follows us into uncontested Federation space, you know what will happen."
Evek looks wounded. "There's no need for threats, Captain. I am a man of honor. Give me credit for that."
Gul Evek terminates the communication. There's a moment of uneasy silence on the Bridge. Janeway is looking at me with more than a little consternation.
"How the hell did they know where to find us?" she says. "The Vetar isn't known to patrol this area, and we haven't gotten within scanning distance of any other Cardassian ships since we picked you up."
"Surely you're not accusing me of giving Cardassians information?" I say pointedly.
"If it suited your purpose," her First Officer says, his lip curling in disgust.
"My only purpose is to kill Cardassians," I say bluntly. The man doesn't like that a bit, I can see. You just can't win with some people. Can't help Cardassians, can't kill them, can't do anything but bow to their whims Federation-style, apparently.
Janeway's in no mood to continue the conversation. With a wave of her hand, she dismisses me, and the guards march me back down to the Brig. Home, sweet home. I'm beginning to get fond of this little 8-by-8 cell.
I lay back on the bed and think about Janeway's diplomacy. It's been a long time since I've seen anyone even try such tactics. In the Maquis, you don't have the luxury of chit-chat. It's kill or be killed. But the old idealistic Chakotay deep inside me stirs, like a bear threatening to come out of hibernation. When I graduated from the Academy, I specifically angled for posts that would put me under the command of diplomacy-minded officers. None of those hair-trigger firebrand captains for me. Once upon a time, I would have itched to work with someone like Janeway.
But there's no going back. I'll never wear a uniform again. And I don't want to.
Do I?
TO BE CONTINUED
Author's note: What do you think will happen next? Share your thoughts in the review box!