The Best of Intentions
Disclaimer: Star Trek Voyager, its characters, etc. are owned by Paramount.
Chapter Three
Chakotay pressed the door chime to the Ready Room, his sweaty hands clasped behind his back, his breathing far more ragged that he would have liked.
"Come in," she called, and he breathed out in relief, thankful she hadn't asked who it was. He stepped into her inner sanctum, wondering if it would be the last time he would face her across her desk, wondering what would be left of him—of her—when this was all over.
Her head was bent over a console, everything in her focused with fierce intensity on the screen in front of her, her fingers flying as she punched in commands. She didn't acknowledge that anyone had entered the room.
"Captain," he said finally, and she looked up.
It only took a split second for the realization to sink in, for the anger to explode in her eyes, and then she was suddenly standing, her fists clenched on the desktop before her.
"Would you care to explain to me exactly what you are doing here, Commander?" Her voice was so soft, so deadly, that Chakotay had to steel himself not to wince, not to look away, for if he lost the upper hand for even one glance, it would all be over.
"I'm here to relieve you of duty, Kathryn." There. He'd said it. The words were out, and there would be no way to rein them back in.
Her eyebrows raised, just a fraction of a centimeter, and that was all. She hit her commbadge as he had known she would.
"Mr. Tuvok, please report to my Ready Room immediately." Her voice was oddly calm, oddly matter-of-fact. Chakotay didn't move, didn't speak.
The doors to the Ready Room charged open, the stirred air raising goosebumps on the back of Chakotay's neck, and Tuvok strode in.
"Yes, Captain?" he queried.
Kathryn's gaze didn't waver for a moment. "Put him in the brig, Tuvok," she spat. There was a moment of quiet, a moment of almost-hesitation that seemed to drag time to an utter standstill. Three pairs of eyes met and held, two brown, one blue. One overtly calm, one anguished, one on fire. And then Tuvok spoke.
"I'm afraid I must disobey that order, Captain," he said quietly, folding his hands in front of him.
"You-what?" she sputtered. Chakotay exchanged a glance with Tuvok.
"We're in this together," he said. "All of the senior staff." Kathryn's face went white, and then in a lightning move, her phaser was in her hand. Despite himself, Chakotay retreated a step.
"Captain, I must inform you that we took the necessary precaution of temporarily disabling all weapons in this room," Tuvok announced. "Your phaser has been rendered useless." Tuvok stepped towards her, his hand outstretched.
"Not like this it hasn't!" she snarled, and then she swung her arm upwards, using the momentum to slam the weapon into Tuvok's face. He staggered, blood instantly seeping from a gash across his cheek, as the phaser clattered to the floor behind him. Kathryn moved toward the door, her hand reaching for her commbadge, but Chakotay caught her fingers in his, managing to rip the device off her uniform. She clawed at him, but he stood behind her, clamping her arms tightly to her sides, carefully gauging how much pressure to use. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. She continued to struggle in his grip.
"Kathryn," he pleaded, "please don't make this any harder than it already is."
She exploded, catching him off guard, and suddenly she was right in his face, yelling at him like she'd never yelled at him before.
"Don't make this any harder? Don't make this any harder? Don't you dare try to play your guilt off on me, Chakotay! Don't you dare!" she bellowed, her lips a mere fraction of a space from his. "This is wrong and you know it!"
"Kathryn," he said, struggling to breathe. He was feeling dizzy from her anger, his self-doubt, her closeness.
"Commander, I believe it is time," Tuvok said. He calmly walked over to the struggling pair and slipped a hand to the niche between Kathryn's neck and shoulder. She immediately slumped in Chakotay's grasp, and he gently lowered her to the ground. His hand unconsciously strayed to her wrist, checking for a pulse, and he smoothed an errant hair that had fallen across her cheek.
"She will be fine, Commander," Tuvok assured him, although Chakotay could not discern whether he spoke out of compassion or impatience. The Vulcan strode over to Kathryn's desk and swung the console to face him. He tapped in several command sequences then studied the results for a moment. A slight chirping noise emanated from the computer, and Tuvok nodded.
"Ensign Kim has input the programming," he remarked. "It should begin…now."
Instantly, the familiar whine of the alien intrusions filled his ears. Chakotay winced, even though he knew it was only a simulation. The Ready Room went dim to showcase the flashing red lights, and Harry's panicked voice issued from Kathryn's commbadge on the floor.
"Kim to Janeway! The aliens have returned! Fissures have opened on Decks 1, 3 and 11!"
Tuvok swung his phaser and shot randomly into the air, blackening the walls and furniture in random locations.
Chakotay drew a deep breath and shouted, "Captain! Look out!"
Tuvok increased his phaser fire, and Chakotay joined him.
"Tuvok to Ensign Kim," Tuvok called above the shriek of the weapons. "Send out another energy pulse along the deflector dish!" The whining abruptly halted.
"It worked, Tuvok." Harry's voice, jubilant. "The aliens have withdrawn to their realm."
"Excellent work, Ensign. Did we take damage to the shields?"
"No, sir. Shields are still at maximum."
"Maintain course for the Equinox. And alert Sickbay that Captain Janeway was injured in the attack. I'm initiating a site-to-site transport. Tuvok out."
Both men watched silently as the transporter beam engaged, and Kathryn's still form shimmered out of existence. Chakotay's throat ached, and he found himself unable to control the trembling in his fingers.
"Our plan has been executed admirably thus far," Tuvok commented. Chakotay gave a rueful laugh.
"All that's left is to rescue Seven of Nine, convince Ransom that what he's doing is wrong, and try to talk the nucleogenic aliens out of destroying us all," he responded wryly.
And repair whatever relationship I might have left with Kathryn.
"All in a day's work, Commander," the Vulcan replied, and this time Chakotay was absolutely certain he caught a slight quirk in the man's set lips before Tuvok turned and left the Ready Room.
Chakotay stood still, his eyes taking in the room before him, this place that bespoke so thoroughly of Kathryn. Her coffee cup occupied its customary spot next to the computer console. A leather-bound book had been perched neatly on the table next to the couch. A precarious stack of PADDs clung to the edge of the desk. But even without the physical evidence, there was no doubt that something of Kathryn, intangible yet ubiquitous, remained in the room. It was hers. And he could never make it his own so he surrendered to that certainty and headed for his office.
He paused for a moment in the doorway, his gaze once again caressing the familiar details his mind already knew so well. Then he unexpectedly encountered his own eyes, staring at him from a holopic on the table. It was where the picture of Kathryn, Mark, and Molly had stood for so many years. When had she taken it away, to be replaced by a picture of the two of them standing shoulder-to-shoulder, smiling at something in the distance, a rare moment of relaxation on some planet they had encountered several months ago?
And why hadn't he noticed it before?
"I'm sorry, Kathryn," he whispered to the empty room. "I'm so sorry."
To be continued…